Blood, a Bullet, and a True Sinner

by Kelly Shade

  “Where are we heading?” Ryan was confused because Jane was driving and she hadn’t told him what the plan was.

  “I think it is too late now. Let’s call it a night, okay?” It was dark outside.

  “Okay, I’ll drive you home then,” smiled Ryan.

  ‘’Well, I’ll drive myself home!’’ Jane winked.

  When they arrived at Jane’s house, she hurried to get out of the car. Ryan sat in the driver’s seat.

  “Hope, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Gray shouted through the window. “We have to be at the precinct at nine.”

  Jane smiled and waved goodbye.

  Chapter 4

  The Wesley’s

  The morning came, and Jane’s first thought was to go to the police station. This was her first official case. She felt different. Of course, it wasn’t the first time she was helping the police, but she never had the pleasure of assisting in an arrest. For the last seven years, Jane had put a significant number of criminals behind bars, but she always got their money as a reward. Maybe that was the reason Blake never thought about herself as a thief; she was more like an artist. In her head were thoughts ranging about that so crucial first case. She would never admit it in front of Ryan Gray or Connor Hunt, but she felt worried and pressured. She knew if they found the killer quickly with her help, she would be allowed to continue working with the police.

  Besides the fun of playing a real detective, Jane would have access to her own files, because for Blake computers weren’t as easy to understand as people. When she performed her cons, she would always hire people to get the information she needed. Those people were usually teenagers with high IQs, excellent skills, and low "salary." Kids with lots free time and poor parental control that Jane didn’t trust with her personal data, so she never allowed them to access her files.

  The first case, let’s do it, Jane thought, standing in front of the Los Angeles Police Department building.

  “Hey!” Ryan Gray shouted while taking huge, quick steps to get to Jane, “I’m glad you came!”

  They walked into the homicide office, a room filled with four desks, computers, uncomfortable looking office chairs, a whiteboard and a large shelf with files. At the end of the room, there was a door to another office, the head detective’s, Hunt’s. Jane looked around to see if there was a coffee machine nearby, but before she asked, Ryan took her out and pointed to a kitchen space with coffee machine, fridge and table.

  “I noticed you like coffee a lot, so . . .” Ryan said.

  “Yeah, I do. I was just looking for it.” Jane went back to the office to meet the team.

  Two men were sitting on their desks, pretending they were working, but they were staring at her. One of them had a sly smile on his face, not very tall, brownish hair and light eyes, muscular. The other guy had dark hair and eyes, a little bit shorter than Ryan, wearing a dark blue suit and poker face. Hunt went in with his regular severe expression.

  “Jane meet Nick Lee and Ian Valdez. I would introduce you to the chief too, but she is busy now,” he said.

  “Hi, I’m Jane Blake, but you already know that,” said Jane while the two thirtyish looking men extended their hands to her.

  “You are way too pretty for that dangerous work. I think you would feel much better in my place, waiting for the man.” Nick Lee didn’t have much info about Jane.

  “Is that right? I believe you are the ladies’ man, who always wakes up alone. I see some issues as a kid. Your mother loved her haircut more than she loved you. Sleeping with many girls made you feel wanted as you never felt with her. Your dad was great, but your mom was a cheater, just like you will be if you ever find a woman willing to have a relationship with you. You spent too much time in the fitness gym trying to get all the attention, but you are the clown in the crowd . . .”

  “Enough,” said Nick and sat back in his chair feeling ashamed and angry.

  “I’m Ian Valdez, no need to make me out a psycho profile.” This was said with a poker face.

  Hunt was apparently amused by Jane’s words; trying not to laugh, he spoke, “I think it is time to get to work. As Jane said yesterday, the suspects are the people from his family photos. I called them in. Lee, Valdez you get Derek and Fred Wesley, sons of Jonathan Wesley. Gray, Blake you are coming with me to speak with the victim’s mother.”

  Nick and Ian went to one of the interrogation rooms. Jane and Ryan followed Hunt to the other.

  They found an old, skinny lady, with gray hair, sitting on the edge of the chair, crying. Hunt said he would listen to the conversation from the other side of the glass and let Ryan and Jane go inside alone.

  “Hello, Mrs. Wesley!” Ryan said softly “I’m sorry for your loss. Can you tell us more about Tim? What was he like?”

  “Tim was a good son but an awful brother to Jonathan. When they were kids, they were always fighting and tattling on each other. Tim was stealing everything his brother wanted. He got on the football team instead of Jonathan. He didn’t even like the game that much. Then he stole Jonathan’s girlfriend. It was hard for me to watch my kids like that, so one day I made them sit with their father and me and talk for hours about their behavior. They were in their last year of high school. It was a long, exhausting conversation, but from then on they were different. By the time they graduated from college they had become closer. They were brothers at last.” Mrs. Wesley stopped to wipe away tears.

  “What about after? What was it like when they married? How did they meet Debby and Vanessa?” Jane asked quietly.

  “I don’t really know, but they were happy about each other. We used to have a house out of the city. The two families went there all the time together,” said the old lady still sniveling.

  “What happened with that house?” Ryan asked.

  “Well, it was an old house, so we knocked it down. The plan was to build a new one, but my husband passed away and I didn’t want to do it anymore. The land is still mine.”

  “Okay, thank you for your time, Mrs. Wesley. You may go now!” Jane said and stood up. They helped the lady out and went to Hunt.

  “I had more questions, Jane. Next time, please don’t rush,” said Ryan grumpily.

  “We got what we needed from her.” Jane glanced at him with gratification in her eyes.

  “What do you have?” Hunt asked Nick and Ian the moment he opened the office door.

  “We spoke with the sons, but they don’t know anything. From what I noticed they don’t like their father, Jonathan, but they used to adore their uncle, our victim.” Ian Valdez spat all the info and glanced at Nick to speak.

  “We spoke with the victim’s maid, Betty Christof. She was still in slight shock, but she didn’t know what happened. She went in at 3 p.m. and found him dead. She said she ran out to the reception area to call the police. We believe her.”

  “Yeah, sounds accurate,” said Jane thoughtfully.

  “Vanessa and Jonathan Wesley didn’t come, why?” Hunt asked.

  “I told Ryan not to call them in,” Jane answered with the same thoughtful expression on her face.

  “Since when you are the boss, Caroline?” Hunt asked in a low tone.

  Everyone froze, everyone except Jane. She knew Conner Hunt didn’t have some kind of sudden amnesia. He was just prepared.

  “You read my file. Congrats! You can read. I no longer use the name Caroline, so please have some respect and call me Jane or Blake.”

  “Or Thompson,” snored Hunt.

  “Call me Thompson one more time, and you will regret it.” Jane was sitting calmly on the chair.

  “Guys, please.” Ryan wanted to prevent the disaster. “And Jane, what the fuck? Who is that Caroline Thompson?”

  “Me.” Jane looked at him with eyes full of sadness and hate at the same time. “So you didn’t read my file?”

  “No, I wanted you to tell me whatever you are hiding, not the file.” Ryan sat on the desk next to her. “Look we are a team. We have to trust each other, all of us. It is better
to tell us now instead of having everyone look at your documents five minutes from now.”

  “Okay. I was adopted, and the people who adopted me gave me that name. I changed it on the day I turned 21. That’s it,” Jane said.

  “Why?” asked Nick and Ian together.

  “Because I didn’t want to be connected with these people,” Jane said simply.

  “Was it because you were stealing . . . you don’t want them to be involved?” Ryan asked curiously.

  Jane almost laughed. She looked at him and continued speaking with the same calm voice.

  “No, Ryan, it wasn’t because of that. These people were never my parents. They are the most annoying, manipulating, selfish, narcissistic pieces of shit that I have ever met. I was a trophy child for them.”

  “Wow! Do you know something about your real family?” Nick couldn’t help spitting out that question.

  “No, that’s why I’m here. They told me I was left in front of an orphanage without any documents,” said Jane in a monotone.

  “Well, there is nothing in your file too . . . I’m sorry.” Hunt actually felt compassion.

  “Why choose Jane Blake?” Ryan was very curious by nature. Maybe that was why he was a self-taught hacker. He wanted to know everything.

  “Well, Jane is no one . . . you know, like Jane Doe. I thought it was suitable for my situation. And Blake, I just liked. There is a ring to it, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah,” Ryan said sadly. He wasn’t expecting that.

  “Okay, team, I know Jane’s story is fascinating and all but we have work to do,” Hunt broke the silence. “Any suggestions? What should we do now?”

  “We have to go to Jonathan Wesley’s house.” Blake stood up and took few steps toward the door. “Come on.”

  “And why is that?” Hunt was annoyed again.

  “Because we want to catch the killer, don’t we?” Jane said energetically. “Come on! I have a plan. You said you’ll let me lead that one, right Hunt?”

  “Okay, do what Jane said. I’m staying here. Call me if you have a lead.”

  The guys nodded and went after Blake.

  “So, we go with one car or separate?” Jane asked.

  “Huh, we are not using our cars, Blake. I’m driving,” said Nick with a huge smile.

  They went in the parking lot, and Jane walked after them. Nick pointed the keys, and that familiar sound of a car alarm indicated which one was theirs. A black Lincoln Navigator was waiting for them.

  Nobody spoke on the way to Wesley’s house. For all of them it was a weird situation. Nick and Ian were offended by the fact the new girl was in charge and Hunt never picked either of them to lead. Ryan was still thinking how little he knew about Jane and that drove him crazy. Jane was worried about the case. She had a great guess as to who might be the killer, but what if she was wrong. The Wesley’s house was in front of them now.

  Nick stopped the car, and by the time everyone got out Jane was already knocking on the door. Mr. Wesley’s wife, Vanessa, opened the door and when she saw Blake again, she almost fainted. Undisturbed by the lady’s look, the junior police investigator, Jane Blake, went in and headed directly to Mr. Wesley, who was sitting on the couch, reading a book.

  “Please, Mrs. Wesley, join us,” said Jane and sat on the couch next to Tim’s brother.

  Mrs. Wesley slowly sat on one of the armchairs.

  “What is it? Did you find anything about Tim?” asked the wife with trembling voice.

  Tamara went in. Jane nodded for her to sit down, too.

  “As you know, my name is Jane Blake, and these are my colleagues_Nick Lee, Ian Valdez and Ryan Gray. We are here to ask you a couple of questions. If you don’t mind, of course.”

  “Yes, what is it?” Vanessa Wesley was whiter than the freshly painted white wall behind her.

  Jane looked straight at her and asked: “Were you with Tamara from 5 until 6:30 a.m. today?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, do you want to share what you were talking about?” Jane asked and shushed Tamara as she wanted to answer instead of her aunt.

  “I just went to see her. We had coffee in front of the bar, and I went to work. Nothing special.”

  “Where do you work, Mrs. Wesley?” Ryan asked politely.

  “I’m a secretary at a construction company.”

  “And your husband?” Ryan continued.

  “He is retired now, but he used to be a chemical engineer. I don’t see how that’s relative to Tim’s death?” At that point, Vanessa looked frustrated.

  Is not like they didn’t already know, but it was a good conversation starter.

  “Where is Debbie?” Jane asked, noting Jonathan’s body language.

  Mr. Wesley was furious. His face became vicious and evil. His hands were clenched in a fist as he stared at his wife.

  “We told you, we don’t know where my mother is. She ran away, remember?” Tamara was annoyed.

  Vanessa was very emotional, and she started crying. Jonathan Wesley leaned toward her and told her to shut up. He looked anxious. The woman appeared to be terrified of her husband.

  Jane stood up and circled around Mr. Wesley. She took a long breath and spoke.

  “I believe Tim Wesley had a terrible gambling problem. Mr. Jonathan Wesley here was giving him more money so he could continue to play. Am I right, Jonathan?”

  “Yeah, so what! Of course, I helped my brother,” he said nervously.

  “Yeah, you were helping yourself. You wanted to feel you are better than your brother. Tim had everything as a child, the girls, the fame, the teachers liked him more.”

  “This is just ridiculous.” Jonathan made fake laughter.

  “Is it really? Maybe it will get more ridiculous.” Jane laughed too. “Where were you at the time of the murder, Mr. Wesley?”

  “Here, as always. I never go out,” he answered and gestured toward his scars. “People are afraid of me.”

  “I believe there is no one to confirm that?” Jane added.

  “I was sleeping. My wife saw me before she went to work, right Vanessa?” Jonathan glanced at her with contempt.

  “Y-yes,” she stuttered.

  “Mr. Wesley, you were a great chemist. At least that’s what the certificates on the wall say.” Jane stopped in front of the five frames with gold edging; all were appreciation certificates and rewards for the fantastic work of Jonathan Wesley at the Chemical Institute of the Future technologies.

  Ryan, Nick and Ian were puzzled. They stood speechless, waiting for Jane to do their job.

  Vanessa Wesley spoke, provoked by her husband’s almost invisible kick under the table. “Ms. Blake, why are you harassing my husband. I told you he was at home.”

  “Because your husband is a killer,” Jane answered without hesitating.

  Everyone in the room stared at Jane, everyone except Jonathan.

  “That is outrageous. Is this how you catch killers? Get out of my house!” shouted Jonathan.

  “A stay at home mom would never leave her child like this. Did you kill Debbie, too?” Jane stood in front of him, face to face. “Oh, no, so she is alive. Where is she, Jonathan? Where do you keep her?”

  “I . . . what? Lady, you are crazy!” Jonathan started the fake laughter again. “Is that the police nowadays? You are a joke!”

  “This time the joke is on you,” Blake said calmly. “Ryan would you please call officer Thompson. Tell him to go to Mrs. Wesley’s property and get Debbie Wesley for me.”

  Jane was hoping Ryan will get the hint when she used her adoptive family name and will fake a conversation with the imaginary officer Thompson.

  Gray looked at her with confusion, but he did as she said. Jane went even closer to Mr. Wesley. Jonathan lifted his arm, but Ian grabbed it.

  “You have no right to search my house! Where is your warrant? On what basis will you do that?” he shouted, and Ryan turned around. Ian was holding Wesley’s arm tightly and thinking of a reason for an illegal search.<
br />
  “Vanessa,” Gray had only one chance “Will you let my partner look around your land, please?”

  “Y-yeah,” she sobbed, and Ryan said, “Go in!” to his phone.

  Everyone went quiet, waiting for Jane Blake to explain what was going on. Jane moved away from the man’s face and went to Tamara.

  “The drugs you use, you can’t afford them . . . but your uncle is giving you plenty to keep you around. How do you pay him? You can talk. He can’t touch you now.”

  Tamara’s stooped body was shaking; her head was sweating, and she was going to faint. Ryan patted her on the back and helped her sit properly. He leaned and whispered in her ear.

  “It’s okay; you can trust us.”

  “My . . . my uncle is making me drugs . . . I . . . I let him . . . when I’m high . . . he is . . .”

  “If you don’t say it we can’t help you, Tamara,” Jane said coldly.

  “He . . . we . . . have . . . a . . . sexual intercourse . . .” Tamara cried and shrank again, this time into Ryan’s arms. Jane saw he was feeling uncomfortable, but with her eyes, she encouraged him to stay.

  “Do you see how disgusted she is with you? No teenager with self-respect will use the phrase “sexual intercourse“ unless she is ashamed of it.”

  Ian gripped Jonathan firmly. Mr. Wesley was staring at his niece. He ignored his wife’s loud cry.

  Blake’s behavior, voice and facial expression hadn’t changed from the moment they went in the house. She even smiled a little before she continued.

  “I guess you didn’t start taking drugs by yourself. One day you just needed them. Well, your amazing uncle was drugging you every day until you were an addict,” Jane breathed. “I suppose you don’t remember when or why your mum left?”

  “N-no,” Tamara wept.

  “Jane, what about our murder victim?” Nick was guarding the exit door in case someone decided to run.

  “Oh, yeah,” Jane said and sat on the arm of the sofa. “Tim suspected his wife didn’t run, so he went to see Tamara. Jonathan didn’t let him in because Tamara was drugged. Tim pretended he believed she was not at home and left, but he started digging. Our killer here noticed Tim talking to Vanessa, so he prepared a plan to kill his own brother. Vanessa, you and Tim were talking about Debbie; you both knew something wasn’t right?” Jane turned to the lady who was covering her eyes with her hand and quietly crying.