In the Line of Duty

by Carolyn Arnold

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  Chapter 28

  BACK IN THE DEPARTMENT SEDAN, Madison turned to Terry. “They’re involved somehow, I just feel it.”

  “Unfortunately, the law requires more than feelings.”

  She angled her head. “We still don’t know who Coleman’s friend is, and Sommer doesn’t have an alibi.”

  “Neither does Godfrey, but we need more than that.”

  “And who knows if they’re telling the truth about Coleman.” Madison put the car into gear. “The reports should be back on known relatives. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  Sadly, when they got back to their desks twenty minutes later, the reports still weren’t ready.

  “We don’t know who all is involved in this Devil’s Rebels gang,” Madison said, tapping her fingers on her desk as she thought, “and the gangs unit hadn’t heard of them. But what if there’s another way to prove their existence and find out more about them?”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking about Marsh’s informant.”

  “You really think he’s going to let you talk to his CI?”

  “It’s worth a shot.”

  MADISON AND TERRY TRACKED DETECTIVE Marsh down to interrogation room three, where they watched him question a meth addict. The addict’s face, neck, and arms were covered with scabs—just one sad consequence of the drug’s use, which caused its users to hallucinate that something was crawling under their skin and they needed to dig it out.

  Marsh tapped the edge of a closed file folder against the table and headed for the door. Madison and Terry hurried down the hall to catch him.

  Marsh opened the door and stepped back when he saw them standing there.

  “We need to speak with your CI,” Madison said.

  He gestured toward her but addressed Terry. “Is she serious?”

  Terry pressed his lips together and nodded.

  “They talk to me.” There was no room for negotiation in Marsh’s voice.

  “Well, I need information. And quick.”

  “Stop dancing around here, Knight. What’s going on?”

  “We have a new lead and believe it may tie back to Russell Coleman and Barry’s murder.”

  Marsh slid his gaze to Terry. “What’s this lead?”

  “A gang that calls themselves the Devil’s Rebels.”

  “All right, you mentioned them in the briefing, but I’d never heard of them before that.”

  She pressed on, knowing he’d say that. “You’ve seen the decal that was on the shooter’s car?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, it’s affiliated with the Devil’s Rebels. We first want to confirm they are a gang, and if anyone will know, it’s the people on the street.”

  “You just referred to them as a gang, and now you’re not sure?” He barked a laugh. “And you want access to my CI to confirm whether or not they are?”

  “Yeah, that’s right.” How did she manage not to roll her eyes?

  “No.”

  “No? What do you mean no?”

  “N-O.”

  Madison crossed her arms. “They could lead us to Barry’s shooter.”

  “She doesn’t know the word no, apparently.” Marsh looked at Terry, and Terry wisely didn’t give any impression he heard him. Marsh continued. “They’re used to dealing with me. You go in there and you could mess everything up. Forget could. You will. And you do realize SWAT’s planning to hit the Hellions tonight…”

  “Like I said, I think these people might be connected to Coleman. And if you’re not going to let us talk to your informant, you’re going to have to talk to him for us.”

  “And I take orders from you now?”

  “For Barry,” she said sharply.

  Marsh’s expression softened, and he nodded. “Fine. You can talk to her, but if you mess this up—”

  “Her?”

  “Yep. My CI is a woman.”

  “Where can we find her?”

  “Hold on there,” he said. “I’ll reach out and set up a time.”

  “Make it quick,” Madison responded.

  Marsh rolled his eyes. “You’re going to have to give me some time, Knight.”

  “Fine,” Madison grumbled.

  She looked at her watch. It was only midmorning. They were at a standstill with the investigation, but there was something she and Terry could do…

  “DO YOU REALLY THINK THIS is a good idea?” Terry asked her from the passenger seat.

  “I don’t think it’s a bad one.” Madison was driving them over to Joni’s house. They’d stopped into a department store to pick up a couple of gifts for Emily that tied into her love for ponies. “Andrea—” She stopped there. If she wasn’t with Troy anymore, she’d have to go back to addressing Andrea by her position, not by her first name. “The chief thought doing something to acknowledge her birthday would be nice for her.”

  “As you told me, but, man, it’s gotta be rough on the kid.”

  “I’d think everyone forgetting about her special day would only make it worse.”

  Madison approached the house, and there was a horse trailer out front and a man arguing with an officer. She parked the car and went over to them. “What’s going on here?” The smell of manure and fresh hay hit Madison’s sinuses, and she sneezed.

  “He’s determined to set up here,” the officer explained.

  “I was paid in advance. I can’t just leave,” the man protested. He was in his late fifties with a round face and pleasant eyes.

  “I’ve tried to explain to him that there’s been a death—”

  The man looked her square in the eye. “I offer no refunds.”

  Her last concern was payment, but her first priority was making the little girl happy. If people from the department were going to be stopping in throughout the day to bring Emily gifts, what would a pony hurt?

  “Give me a minute.” Madison left the two men and Terry behind, and headed for the front door. She was still holding her gift, and she tucked it under an arm and knocked.

  Joni answered, her gaze going first to the box in Madison’s arms and then beyond Madison to the trailer. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s Emily’s birthday today…”

  Joni looked at her blankly as if she didn’t need to be told when her daughter’s birthday was.

  “Did you read the card from Barry?” Madison asked the question, and dread sank in her stomach. She knew it wasn’t appropriate to ask a widow something so personal.

  “I…” Joni wrapped her arms around herself.

  Madison touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry to ask that. It’s just… In the card, Barry mentioned finding the perfect gift for Emily… She loves ponies, right?”

  “Yeah.” Joni’s chin quivered. “He got her a pony?”

  Madison nodded. “It sure looks like it.”

  “What am I supposed to do? She’s walking around the house staring at the floor. She woke up in the middle of the night sobbing.” Joni broke down now, crying and shaking.

  Madison hugged her. “Barry already paid for the pony, and—” Madison made sure to soften her voice “—he wanted her to have the experience.”

  Joni stopped crying as if a switch had been flipped and sniffled. She nodded. “You’re right. She can’t have her dad, but… Let me ask her.” Joni turned, likely to go get Emily, but the girl was already standing there.

  “Mommy, is that a horse?” Emily pointed toward the trailer.

  “Yeah, sweetheart, it is.”

  “I thought the party was canceled.” Emily’s blue eyes were wet and wide as she looked at her mother. Then she noticed the gift in Madison’s arms and her jaw dropped slightly. “Is that for me?”

  “It is.” Madison pressed her lips together, the closest she could get
to a smile at the moment, and handed her the gift.

  “Thank you.” Emily put the box on the floor and wrapped her arms around Madison’s legs.

  Joni tapped her daughter’s shoulder. “Do you want to see the pony?”

  “Can I ride him, Mommy?”

  Joni glanced at Madison, and Madison waved at the men at the curb and caught the pony owner’s eye. He nodded and worked on getting the pony from the trailer.

  Joni got down on her haunches, took her daughter’s hands, and said, “This gift is from your daddy, sweetheart.”

  Madison was having a hard time holding herself together. Oh, the tears wanted to fall… She expected Emily to cry, but instead, her face lit up into a wide smile.

  “He was always the best at birthday surprises!” She squealed and went deeper in the house, galloping and whinnying.

  This time Madison couldn’t help but smile.

  She turned to say something to Joni, and her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was Marsh.

  The appointment was set for her to meet with his informant at one that afternoon. That was only a couple of hours from now. She’d better enjoy this downtime while she could.

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  Chapter 29

  MARSH’S CI’S NAME WAS LULU, a name that gave Madison the impression that the woman worked the streets. But she wasn’t a call girl and she didn’t take money in exchange for sex. However, she did have a close—and likely sexual—relationship with Lonnie Hogan. According to Marsh, the man trusted her with his life. So when two years ago, at the age of nineteen, Lulu had almost died due to a cocaine overdose but had survived to face charges in connection to an armed robbery she’d taken part in while high, she’d been given the option to go to jail or become an informant. The choice had been an easy one for her.

  Madison was set to meet Lulu alone at a coffee shop. She’d dropped Terry off back at the station to get started on looking at the reports that would have come through by this point, and now she parked down the street and around the corner from Java Joint. The time on the dash read 12:55.

  She entered the coffee shop and looked for a woman of Lulu’s description—dark hair and dark eyes, bone thin, with a tendency to go heavy on the makeup. Madison spotted Lulu hunched in a corner booth holding a cell phone and texting with one hand, leaving the other one free to hold a cardboard cup. She’d lift it for tiny sips every few seconds. She was nervous.

  She looked up at the door as if she sensed someone’s eyes on her, and when she met Madison’s gaze, she subtly dipped her head. Then she lifted her cup to her lips again.

  Madison casually walked up to the counter and ordered a large coffee before joining Lulu at her table. “Glad we could get together today. It’s been too long,” she said to create the pretense of two friends meeting for coffee.

  “Yeah, terrific.” Lulu spoke without looking at Madison, her eyes on her cell phone, both hands cradling it now.

  Madison took her own phone out, brought up an image of the decal, and held the screen for Lulu to see. “Do you recognize this?”

  Lulu took her eyes from her screen but didn’t seem impressed by the interruption. Her eyes were ringed with thickly applied black eyeliner, her lashes were coated in mascara, and her eyelids were painted a dark mocha.

  She looked at the logo for about five seconds. “It’s the symbol for a group of wannabes from the east end of the city. The Devil’s Rebels.”

  The door chimed, and it had Lulu anxiously looking around Madison to see who had entered. Madison followed her gaze to a middle-aged woman in pajama bottoms and a coat. She made it to the counter, and as she was skimming the menu, she was chewing on a fingernail.

  Madison shook her head and turned back to Lulu. “Tell me about them.”

  Lulu put down her phone but kept in on the table in front of her. “I’m not sure what all to tell. Do you know about the graffiti downtown on the back of the court building?”

  “Yes.” It was a common topic that hit local papers, how awful it was that anyone would disgrace such a prestigious building in the community. Madison thought back to the images that were showcased in color in the local paper. A true irony, as on one hand people were complaining about the graffiti, and on the other, they were gratifying it. Madison recalled the signature—a swirly circle that could be a capital D with an R in the center.

  The Devil’s Rebels were responsible…

  But defacing buildings was a far cry from the crimes Sommer declared they were involved in, though. Violence against animals and people, murder… Pajama woman had moved down the counter and was closer to them now. Madison made sure her voice was low when she asked Lulu, “Do you know if they’ve killed anyone?”

  Lulu burst out laughing so hard tears came to the corners of her eyes. “Murder?”

  Madison settled against the back of the booth, letting Lulu get it all out, and took the first sip of her own coffee. She had taken a few by the time Lulu calmed down.

  “There is no way that they—” Lulu covered her mouth to stifle another outburst. She shook her head and snorted. “No, they are small-time.” She punched out the last two syllables. “I’d be surprised if they even knew how to fire a gun.”

  Pajama woman turned to them now, obviously hearing Lulu say the word gun. Her eyes took in Lulu and then bounced to Madison, who gave her a look that told her to mind her own business. The woman complied, but not before dishing out a cold glare of her own.

  Madison waited until the woman had her coffee and was halfway to the door before she responded to Lulu. “You know all this for sure?”

  “I’m positive.” The word positive came out in three distinct syllables. “Do you think they killed that cop?”

  “I can’t say.”

  Lulu held out her hand. Madison glanced at it, knowing that Lulu was likely looking for a payout for the information she’d provided. But as far as Madison was concerned, Lulu had already benefited. She wasn’t behind bars.

  Lulu held eye contact with Madison for a while before snatching her hand back. “Unbelievable.”

  Madison managed not to say anything as she stood up and left the coffee shop, but she couldn’t help but think that what was really unbelievable was the fact that cops were forced to make deals with criminals in exchange for information.

  She walked to the car, cognizant of her surroundings and making sure no one was tailing her. Confident she was on her own, she got into the car and called Terry to fill him in on what she had learned from Lulu.

  “Well, I got news for you, too. We have a lead on the shooter’s car.”

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  Chapter 30

  TERRY HAD THE PICTURE OF a man on his screen when Madison got back to the station. He was in his late thirties, had blond hair, and was cleanly shaven with brown eyes. There was nothing menacing about his appearance.

  “Meet Phil Brown,” Terry said. “I found him when comparing Cousins’s detailed background to the list of BMW 3 series owners. He’s the kid’s uncle, and he has a Glock 17 registered to him.”

  “They fire nine-millimeter rounds.”

  Terry nodded. “Now Brown doesn’t fit the physicality for the shooter, though, but he does the driver.”

  “But Coleman claimed he drove.”

  “Claimed may be the appropriate word here.”

  “So we have two potential drivers, but no leads on a shooter?” She moaned. “What else do you have on Brown?”

  “His criminal history is clean,” Terry continued. “He owns his house outright, has no debt, holds a steady job.”

  “Role model for the community,” Madison stated sarcastically. “Except for being connected with Cousins, a guy who’s roommates with two Devil’s Rebels members. Even possibly a member himself.”

  “We need to connect either Cousins or Brown to Russell Coleman,” Terry said. “Now, Brown was married but got divorc
ed a few years ago. The record states irreconcilable differences.”

  “How long were they married?”

  “Fifteen years.”

  “And it took them that long to realize they didn’t work together? There had to be something more. He probably cheated on her.”

  Terry angled his head. “Basing that assumption off your past experience?”

  “I’m over that.” The conversation with Chelsea came to mind, as did Troy’s cheating ex-wife. “Maybe she ran around on him,” she said, retracting her initial judgment.

  “Anyway, Brown’s parents are deceased, died in a car accident, but he has a sister, Kara Brown, whose last known address put her three hours outside of the city. Brown’s ex-wife is here in Stiles. Her name is Joy Pope. After the divorce finalized, she changed her name right away.”

  “So the divorce definitely ended on bad terms.”

  He shrugged. “As it stated, irreconcilable differences.”

  “We’ll talk to her.”

  “Her opinion could be tainted,” Terry suggested.

  “You’re right, but that might prove useful to us.”

  “Hold up. You just said that I’m what?” He pulled out his cell, swiped a finger across the screen, and held the phone toward her.

  “You want to record me?” She scoffed.

  “Please repeat what you just said a few seconds ago.” He was showcasing a cheesy grin.

  “You want to record me?”

  “No, the other thing.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Shut up, wiseass.”

  “That’s not exactly what you said, but you did just admit that I’m wise.” He lifted his head, stretching out his neck, and tilted his nose to the ceiling, basking in his self-made compliment.

  “Yeah, and a—”

  “A donkey? That’s what you were going to say? They are cute.”

  “Terry.” She gave him the best I’m warning you look she could muster.

  “Ha.” He waved a finger in her face with one hand while he tucked his phone away with the other. “I got you to smile.”

  “No, you…” And then she couldn’t help herself. She was smiling. “Cut it out.”