Into The Heat (Sandy Reid Mystery Series Book 6)

by Rod Hoisington

  “No way.”

  “Never had a gun in your apartment?”

  “Already said, no.”

  “Holly says she saw a gun. So what’s with the gun? When did you flash the gun, when she first came in?”

  “You’re doing it aren’t you? Trying to get me. I can see right through all your shit. No sex—no first time—no second time. Now let me out of here.”

  It was time for the detective to come out with a lie. “Well, you see, Bruce, that gives you several problems because Holly spent the next morning being examined for sexual activity, and the tests prove it was you. No big deal, about that. She admits she went to your place to have sex, and she admits the first time she was cool with it. Says, she carefully undressed and folded her dress and put it on a chair. Does that sound about right?”

  Bruce turned away from the detective.

  “Let me get this straight. This pretty girl went there to have sex with you, and she gets undressed. Are we okay so far Bruce? Bruce look at me.”

  “You’re lying about all of this.”

  “No, I’m okay with all of it. This pretty girl went there to have sex with you, and she gets undressed. Okay? The problem is afterwards she wanted to go home, and you forced her to stay. She’s yelling, no, and you didn’t stop. Either you’re lying or she’s lying—and she’s the one with bruises on her body.”

  Bruce raised his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. “Never happened.”

  “Now, you expect me to believe you invited her up there and that pretty girl undresses and is smiling at you—and what? Nothing? Help me out here, Bruce. I’d like to close this file right now and we could both go home. But what do I put down? She’s smiling and you fell asleep, your zipper stuck, you tell me. You don’t like women—you couldn’t get it up, what?”

  Bruce brought his eyebrows down and pursed his lips.

  “Come on, Bruce, you’ve got to help me out. You’ve got some explaining to do about what happened after that gun came out.”

  His eyes darted over and he stared at the detective. “That dumb bitch is flat out lying about the second time. She really liked it that first time, said how totally amazing I was. I didn’t touch her after that. She might have stumbled or something going out. There’s no gun at all. You’ve got to believe me. She’s the one who’s lying. Can I go now?”

  “So you did have sex the first time.” He said it quietly. The scheme had worked. Fowler had lied about no sex at all and then admitted to the first time. That was another lie. He had already lied about not having a gun, and they have a witness, Holly, who says he does. Plus, if a .45 were fired in his apartment, there would be evidence somewhere. They probably had all they needed for the search warrant. He still wanted to get something incriminating on the attempted rape, in case the gun wasn’t found. He went on, “You shouldn’t lie to me, Bruce. Okay, we’re still cool and I believe you. Well, I guess that does it.” Jaworski ran his finger down the file paper in front of him. “Oh, here’s something. Why didn’t you want to have sex again?”

  “I don’t know!”

  “Hello, she’s there! The evening had just started. Most guys would be thinking more than once—like maybe all night. You just couldn’t handle it again, is that it?” The detective stopped talking for a full minute. “Holly went up there to be with you assuming you’d no doubt have sex. Didn’t I tell you that? So, was it you who didn’t want to make it happen again? Maybe you just weren’t good to go again—hey, that can happen. She wants it and you want it, and you’ve already told me there was no second time. Or maybe it was her, she didn’t want to. Oh, that’s right. You told me she wanted to go home after the first go around.”

  Bruce looked confused. “She had to get home, or something.” His head was drooping down, and he was slumped in the chair.

  “Well, damn, that’s a woman for you. So, you wanted it and she refused. Is that what we’re getting to?”

  No response for a minute. Then, “Am I under arrest?”

  “No, Bruce.”

  “I want a lawyer.”

  “Okay, no problem, but first we’ll take a little ride.”

  If Fowler had been able to see through the mirror in front of him, he’d have seen three people high-fiveing. They probably didn’t have enough for the attempted rape charge, but they had enough for a warrant.

  State Attorney Melvin Shapiro had the search warrant prepared in advance. And Detective Sergeant Edwin Jaworski had his team on standby. By 3:45 p.m. that afternoon, a search warrant was issued.

  Immediately upon leaving the judge’s chambers, Shapiro called Sandy, who was in Martin’s office with Martin and Nigel waiting for the news. It was good. The judge had signed the warrant, and Jaworski’s team was on the move.

  The joy of having the warrant implemented was short lived. The three continued sitting in Martin’s office filling the next hour with small talk to avoid focusing on the possibility of failure. Until Martin said, “Situations such as this quickly separate the pessimists from the optimists. Will the gun be there or not? And if it is there, will it be the murder weapon?”

  “I’m optimistic,” she said. “If the murder weapon is found in Fowler’s apartment, then Keller is a goner and this case is all wrapped up. I have to be optimistic because right now I can’t think of a Plan B.”

  Martin said, “I agree.”

  “That’s not surprising,” Nigel said. “I notice it takes quite a bit to make you disagreeable.”

  Martin smiled at him. “Well, which are you?”

  Nigel shuffled around before answering. “Although I should play nice and agree, I must admit that I’m pessimistic about a gun being found. I reserve the right to explain later.”

  “At least we all agree that waiting is painful,” Martin observed.

  Nigel said, “I can see how the successful interrogation was accomplished. At first Fowler says he didn’t touch Holly, then Jaworski lies and tells him Holly claims there was a second time and the second time was rape. Faced with that false evidence, Fowler then changes his story and admits to the first time, thereby destroying his credibility. I get that part. However, I’m bothered by the idea that the police are permitted to lie to get a confession.”

  Martin explained, “It goes back to an established theory that an innocent person would never confess to a crime they didn’t commit, even if confronted by false evidence. Therefore, it’s considered a legitimate interrogation technique to trap a guilty person with false evidence and not a violation of rights to lie to an innocent person.”

  Nigel shrugged, meaning he supposed it made sense.

  There was no further word until just before 6:00 p.m., when Shapiro called again, “Not good news, Sandy.” He went on for some time explaining, before ending with, “I’m so sorry.”

  Chapter Thirty-six

  “I didn’t expect the gun to be found in his apartment,” Nigel was saying.

  “Wait, Nigel, I’ll move closer so you can kick me,” Sandy said. “Okay, okay, Fowler was smarter than I thought and ditched the gun.”

  “We all knew it wasn’t a certainty,” Martin said, coming to her defense. “If that’s what you’re getting at, Nigel.”

  The server placed a second round of drinks on the table and picked up the empties.

  “No, you had him pegged correctly,” Nigel said, “and I agree he was too dumb to get rid of the murder weapon—at least at first. But that was earlier. He foolishly kept the gun around and indeed, it was the murder weapon that Holly accidentally fired. After he fought with her, and she fired the gun, I believe that was the point he got spooked enough to come to his senses. He considered that a close call—and finally tossed the gun only a day or two before the search warrant was issued. You guys did everything right—it was worth a try.”

  “If she fired that gun, where’s the slug?” Martin asked. “What did Mel say about that?”

  She explained, “They found evidence a bullet went in and back out of the mattress. After passing t
hrough, it must have lodged in some object by the bed such as a book or stack of magazines—something Fowler then threw away, perhaps unknowingly. There’s no proving when that mattress was damaged—might have been years before. Anyway, no slug was found, so no comparison can be made with the bullet that hit Charlene.”

  “So now we’re left with nothing. I’m so far down right now, everything looks like up,” she said. “If I die in the middle of this Bloody Mary, will you finish it for me?”

  Martin nodded. “Your drink looks good, Nigel, what is it?”

  “I asked for a Bacardi Breezer—my favorite in the UK. The bartender shook her pretty head and said she’d try to fake it. I told her never mind and asked for something Floridian. She fixed up this Margarita special for me.”

  “Did I order this second Bloody Mary?” she asked. “This feels too much like a celebration. I know Mel now thinks Fowler wasn’t the hitman, and Keller had nothing to do with it. If that’s not bad enough, Eddy still doesn’t seem all that warm and friendly with me.” She wagged a finger at Nigel, “And don’t you say anything.”

  Martin said, “Keller has contacts in the police department and undoubtedly has heard about what happened. If there’s any evidence or paper trail left behind, he is busy destroying it as we speak. And probably thinking that Julia is more of a threat to him than ever.”

  “There are two more murders waiting to happen,” Nigel said. “Keller won’t let either Bruce Fowler or Julia Bardner walk around with what they know. My guess is this time he’ll do it all himself. Julia’s body will be found—an unfortunate suicide. Fowler will strangely disappear. And you might also be at risk, Sandy, since Julia told you everything.”

  “Enough of feeling sorry for ourselves,” she said. “What now? I’ve thought all along it would be tough to connect Keller directly to the murder. First, we have to somehow connect Fowler to the murder, and then worry about connecting Fowler to Keller.”

  “So where do we start?” Nigel asked.

  Martin said, “Well, Fowler had to be paid. We could look for money he received and try to trace the source. We think Keller obtained the gun, but Fowler might have practiced with it, perhaps at the gun range. Maybe he talked to someone out at the gun range. Maybe he went in a gun shop to buy cleaning supplies for a Glock. Angles such as that might give us a start.”

  “Following the money might not work,” she said. “Keller no doubt has several bank accounts with large amounts going in and out constantly. Fowler does have a new pickup truck. I guess that’s something. But him having sudden money is purely circumstantial and doesn’t connect him with either the murder or Keller. That gun itself is now at the bottom of the Intracoastal. We are not in a good situation, and we’re still without any help from the police.”

  Her phone rang, Mel Shapiro said, “You okay? I understand you are unbelievably disappointed. If the murder weapon had been found, Keller would be a goner. Fowler certainly would have turned on him.”

  “It was our big chance,” she said. “Even though all of this was officially about an attempted rape charge, Keller must now suspect we’re on to him about the murder. After all this, are you any more inclined to help me go after Keller?”

  “I’m not aware of any new evidence. As much as I’d love to nail him, I don’t see where anything has changed. I realize you want to keep going after him, but why don’t you put the case out of your mind and take it easy for a couple days. Maybe we can find something to do together. I’ll give you a call later. Okay?”

  Nigel had been thinking. “If I were Fowler, I’d be totally shook right now. First, Jaworski does a job on him in that interrogation room, then he’s sitting nervously around police headquarters for a couple of hours wondering what the hell is going on, while they get the warrant. Next, he’s in a squad car going God knows where, and suddenly he realizes they’re taking him to his own apartment! Then he watches the cops bust in, tear his place apart, find a hoard of stuff he doesn’t want found and rip his mattress apart. It’s hours before he gets out of those cuffs and they let him go. He has to be a basket case right now.”

  Martin said, “You’re right. And by now, Keller has heard about it and wishes he’d hired a professional from Chicago to do the dirty work.”

  She stared at Nigel for a moment, frowning in thought, and then her face brightened. She gave him a thumbs up and pushed away her untouched drink. “Nigel do you still have that text from Holly on your smartphone, with the address of Fowler?”

  “What are you doing?” Martin asked.

  “I’m crawling out on a limb. Nigel, access the white pages on your phone and get the number of the occupant of #12 in that apartment building. I talked to the guy, his name is Gene something.” She waited while Nigel’s thumbs went waltzing around the screen.

  After a moment. “His name is Eugene Vaulter. Want his number?”

  “Call him, please.”

  After another moment. “Mr. Vaulter? Can you hold please for Sandy Reid... well, it’s nice you would hold on forever, but that won’t be necessary, sir. She’s right here.”

  She took the phone from Nigel. “Hello Gene, I understand you had some excitement in your building today... yeah, we sent the cops after him. We’re about to solve your undesirable neighbor problem for good. Is it possible for you to check and tell me if Fowler is home right now… oh, out the rear window you can see his pickup? Good. Thanks. We’ll chat some time and I’ll explain it all. Bye.”

  She winked at both men as she took out her own phone and dialed. “Hello, Julie, Sandy. I was worried about you… you haven’t been home. You ever make it to the Georgia mountains? No, you’re still at the lodge… How did I know about the lodge? Well, I guess you told me… No? Whatever. I have some interesting news for you. Someone just told me the police located the hitman Keller used to kill Charlene… I don’t care if you believe me. Yeah, was some handyman. Someone said the police just searched his apartment. He admitted Grant paid him to shoot you and he shot Charlene by mistake. Says he wants a lawyer. It’s still confidential and might just be a rumor, so don’t pass it around. But you may never see Grant in street clothes again. Just thought you might like to know. Take care of yourself. Gotta run.”

  She got up, walked over to Nigel and planted a kiss on his cheek.

  “What’s that for?” the surprised young man said.

  “You’re pretty good at this cops and robbers game.” She turned toward the door. “Come on, let’s all take a ride over to Bruce Fowler’s place. I’m going to give him some good advice.”

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  It took the passing of three days before the elements of excitement began to decrease to a customary level of activity around the Bronner and Reid law office. Sandy had come down from her adrenaline high and was already becoming slightly bored with the return to the quiet normalcy of the office routine.

  Martin had been pretending to work, but he was planning something he had in mind for her. They had often enjoyed lunches, after-work drinks together and several dinner occasions, which had all gone well. Recently, he’d mentioned having her over for dinner at his place once again. She seemed enthusiastic. Now, with the serious office business out of the way, he was fairly certain the timing was right and she would accept. He had yet to ask her.

  Nigel had immediately started on some esoteric programming concoction to maximize the office computers, which no one else understood. Just now, he was taking a break with Sandy and Martin in her office talking about the arrest of Grant Keller. He said, “The paper didn’t give you any credit for handing Charlene’s killer to the police, but Detective Eddy Jaworski certainly was prominently mentioned.”

  “That’s what I had in mind all along. Eddy deserves the credit.”

  “When you phoned Julia, after the warrant turned up nothing, and lied to her about Fowler naming Keller, weren’t you taking a chance she might not immediately call Keller to warn him?”

  “Not in my mind. I knew she still loved the
guy even though he would have killed her to stay free. When I went out to see Fowler, I told him Keller was coming after him because he thought Fowler had already confessed. That’s when he admitted Keller had just called minutes before I’d arrived and wanted to meet with him out at the county dump late that night. When I told him Keller had intended to kill him all along, and he was as good as dead—he was ready to confess.”

  “It seems Keller sent a wimp to do a man’s job,” Martin said. “Of course, he has to have been enraged at Fowler killing the wrong person, but he was stuck and had to pay up to keep him quiet until he could do away with him. Keller is the most evil of the entire group. He greedily puts himself into a shady real estate deal to make a million, and then when the deal gets screwed up, he tells Julia he’s washing his hands of the entire affair including her.”

  She said, “Keller and Fowler are conspirators charged with first-degree murder. Both are in jail facing long trials. They’ll never step free again.”

  “Julia thought it easier to get rid of Coleman, rather than ruin her real estate career,” Martin said. “She now faces a possible charge of conspiracy to commit murder, and certainly charges of fraud and larceny. In spite of all that, it’s likely the prosecution will cut her a deal, if she’ll testify against Keller. However it plays out, she’ll serve some minor time. And she’ll never sell real estate again, which was her livelihood. But she’s smart and after she does her time, there are other jobs in real estate and property management that don’t require a license.”

  “Lester should be furious with Julia,” Martin said. “She lied to him and cared so little for him as to hand him a gun, set him up to go murder someone and suffer the consequences.”

  Sandy said. “As of right now, they’re both out on bail and living together in her house. He told me he approached Julia about them forgiving each other and putting all differences aside.”