He disappeared through the front doors.
Callaway debated going after him, but he had a different plan in mind. It was a risky move, but now was not the time to be timid.
He dialed a number, spoke a few words, and hung up. He checked his watch and then spotted an alley across from the building. He walked over to the alley and hid in the shadows. He never once looked away from the apartment building.
Almost an hour later, after making one more call, he sent a text.
I WANT MY MONEY.
After hitting Send, he typed another one.
I’M COMING TO GET IT.
He watched the building’s main doors for any sign of movement. Five minutes later, the doors swung open and the man emerged. He was carrying a backpack.
Callaway came out of his hiding place, crossed the street, and approached the man.
“Hey buddy, where you going?” Callaway asked, cutting him off.
“Who the hell are you?” the man replied.
“I’m the guy who’s been texting you.”
The man stared at Callaway for a moment.
He scowled. “I’m outta here.” He turned to leave.
I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Callaway thought.
Fisher appeared from around the corner. She had one hand on her weapon, and she held up her badge with the other.
“What’s going on?” the man asked, genuinely confused.
Callaway reached over and grabbed the backpack from him. He unzipped the pack and found bundles of hundred-dollar bills inside.
Callaway turned to Fisher. “Does this bag look familiar to you?”
“It sure does,” she replied. “If I’m not mistaken, Dillon Scott was seen carrying that exact same bag the night he met his blackmailer in Milton.”
“And if we traced the currency to withdrawals from the production company’s bank account, do you think we’ll get a match?”
“I think we will.”
The man looked like he had seen a ghost.
Callaway added for good measure, “Do you suppose he had something to do with Gail Roberts’s death?”
“We can charge him and find out,” Fisher replied with a wry smile.
She reached for her handcuffs.
The man raised his hands. “Wait! I didn’t kill her!”
Fisher scoffed. “Tell it to the judge.”
“No, seriously. I had nothing to do with her, but I know who did.”
“Sorry. You can’t lie your way out of this one.”
“Hold on,” the man pleaded. “I got proof. It’s all in my apartment.”
ONE-HUNDRED AND FOUR
Brad Kirkman was led into a room at the Bayview PD. Detective Armen Woodley was in charge of Gail’s case, so it was fitting that he bring Kirkman in for questioning.
Fisher and Callaway were behind a one-way mirror. They watched as Kirkman took a seat. Woodley took one across from him.
“Why am I being dragged here?” Kirkman complained.
“I could have arrested you, or you could have come on your own accord,” Woodley replied. “You chose the latter, which is why you are not in handcuffs.”
“What’s this about?” Kirkman asked.
“It’s about Gail Roberts.”
“Listen, the last time you were at my office, I told you everything I knew. I was on a flight—”
Woodley put his hand up. “I am fully aware of that. You had even shown me your boarding pass.”
“Then you know I didn’t—”
“Mr. Kirkman, do you know a man named Osman Maxwell?”
Kirkman blinked. “Um… that name doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Well, he knows you very well.”
“I’m not sure how. I would have remembered that name, you know.”
“We have Mr. Maxwell in custody. He is being charged for a crime which I’ll get to later. In return for leniency, he has provided us with some information.”
Kirkman swallowed. “What kind of information?”
“He has audio recordings of conversations between you and him.”
Sweat broke across Kirkman’s forehead.
“In your conversations, you clearly confess to killing Gail Roberts.”
He looked down at the table.
“Would you like to listen to these audio recordings?” Woodley asked.
Kirkman shook his head.
“Do you mind telling us what happened that night, or would you prefer I throw out a dozen theories and see which one sticks?”
Kirkman let out an audible sigh. He shut his eyes and said, “I was only doing it to protect Dillon and our production company. We had money invested in so many productions that even the slightest negative publicity could derail the company. Dillon was involved in certain activities that I didn’t approve of.”
“What kind of activities?” Woodley asked.
He hesitated.
“Mr. Kirkman, you have far more pressing things to be concerned about than how this will affect your company.”
Kirkman nodded. “There were accusations against Dillon. Women were saying he had attacked them, assaulted them, even raped them. Dillon denied all these allegations, of course, but I knew how this could play out, so I worked out a deal with these women. In return for a lump sum payment, the women signed non-disclosure agreements, barring them from ever speaking about these incidents in public.”
“How does this relate to Gail Roberts?” Woodley asked.
“Gail found out about these agreements and accusations. She was appalled. She couldn’t believe we were condoning this behavior. She wanted Dillon charged and prosecuted for these crimes. Naturally, I couldn’t let that happen. I tried to reason with her. I even threatened her with legal action. She was an employee of the company, and as such, whatever was discussed within the company was confidential. She didn’t care. She said she was going to do what was right.”
“Was Mr. Scott aware of what she was up to?”
“Yes, of course. He knew everything.”
“Then what happened?”
“Gail told me she was going to the press to expose all the lies to the world. I was scheduled to fly out the night before she did this. I was grateful for that. I didn’t want to be around when it happened. But then my flight was delayed due to bad weather. I knew Gail lived a short drive away from the airport, and I chose to go see her. In hindsight, it might have been a terrible mistake.”
“Was your intention to go to her apartment to hurt her?” Woodley was trying to see if it was premeditated. This could raise the charges from manslaughter to murder in the first degree.
Kirkman shook his head. “No, I only wanted to talk to her. I thought maybe I could try to reason with her one more time. I had helped Gail get her apartment, and I had an extra key. I should have given it to her earlier, but I forgot. I knocked on her door but got no response. I then used the key to gain access to her unit. I thought maybe I could find incriminating evidence against her so I could use it as leverage to make her change her mind. I was desperate. I wanted to make this problem go away. I checked her laptop, her personal belongings, but I found nothing. Then I sat down and came up with a plan. I called Gail on her cell phone, and I told her it was urgent that I speak to her in private. I lied that Dillon was prepared to own up to his crimes and that maybe we could put out a statement together. She didn’t sound convinced, but she was willing to listen to me.”
ONE-HUNDRED FIVE
“I then turned up the heating in the unit and hid inside a closet,” Kirkman said. “When she arrived, the apartment was hot. She immediately went and opened the door to her balcony. She then stood by the railing to allow fresh air into the unit. I then got out of my hiding spot and approached her from behind. Before she could turn, I grabbed her by her legs, and I…”
He stopped and bit his bottom lip.
“You did what, Mr. Kirkman?”
Woodley wanted a confession on tape.
“I then lifted her up by her legs
and pushed her over the balcony. I heard her scream. I didn’t even bother to look down to see if she was dead. I knew she would be. We were fifteen floors up. I then raced out of the unit, and I spotted someone at the elevators. I then took the stairs and exited the building.”
“When you took the stairs, a homeless woman saw you leave, didn’t she?” Woodley asked.
“Tamara Davis,” Kirkman admitted.
“She was a witness who could place you at the scene of the crime, so you hatched another plan, didn’t you? This plan involved Osman Maxwell.”
“I knew I had to get to Tamara before the police did, so I asked Osman to find her. He was my supplier. From time to time, I bought drugs from him. This business can be stressful at times, and the drugs helped me relax. Osman hustled the streets, so he knew where to look. He found Tamara hiding in a crack house.”
“So, when did you get the idea to blackmail Mr. Scott?” Woodley asked.
“I was so angry at Dillon. Gail was dead because of him. If he had stopped taking advantage of those girls, I wouldn’t have had to silence Gail. I decided to force money out of Dillon.”
“But if I’m not mistaken, didn’t you give Mr. Scott the money to pay Osman Maxwell?”
“Yes.”
“Wouldn’t it have been easier to borrow or take the money yourself without going through the charade?”
“This wasn’t the first time I found myself in money trouble. I had previously siphoned cash from the company to pay off my gambling debts. Dillon had found out, and he was not pleased. He didn’t fire me because I knew his secret, but he warned me to never let it happen again, or else he would look for a new business partner. The blackmail was my way of making him squirm. I told Osman how to get in touch with Dillon. I also told him where to meet him in Milton. I needed that money to pay back some really bad people whom I had borrowed money from.”
“But then Mr. Scott was found dead, and Tamara Davis was found dead as well,” Woodley said.
“I don’t know how much Osman told you, but he killed Tamara. He told me so on the phone.”
“Do you have any proof of this?” Woodley asked.
Kirkman opened his mouth but then shut it.
“Don’t worry. We have already charged Mr. Maxwell with her death. On the day Tamara Davis was found dead from an apparent overdose, a man wearing a ski mask had stormed the crack house and punched an inhabitant in the face when he went to answer the door. The victim provided a description of the assailant. Although his face was covered, the height and build matched Mr. Maxwell. The victim also remembered Mr. Maxwell speaking to Ms. Davis that very morning. Furthermore, we have ordered another autopsy, and I have full confidence that we will know exactly how Ms. Davis died.”
Both men were quiet for a moment.
Woodley said, “Is there anything you would like to say that you haven’t already?”
Kirkman stared at Woodley, but then he shook his head.
Woodley stood up. He pulled handcuffs from his back pocket. “Brad Kirkman, you are charged with the death of Gail Roberts and the blackmail of Dillon Scott.”
Woodley handcuffed Kirkman, took out a card, and proceeded to read Kirkman his rights.
ONE-HUNDRED SIX
Fisher and Callaway watched as Kirkman was led away. They knew he would spend the rest of his life behind bars.
She turned to Callaway. “We work great as a team.”
“Better than you and Holt?” he asked with a grin.
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, let’s not get carried away. Holt is a detective with the Milton PD…”
“And I’m just a PI,” Callaway finished.
“No, it’s not that you’re just a PI, it’s that you don’t like to follow the rules.”
Callaway shrugged. “I can’t argue with that.”
Fisher said, “We have Rachel Scott in custody.”
“For what?”
“She’s been charged with Dillon Scott’s murder.”
Callaway’s eyes widened. “Who? What? When? Where? How?”
She quickly filled him in on what had happened while he was in Bayview.
When she was finished, he said, “Does that mean that…?”
She nodded. “Once I get back to Milton, I will make sure Jimmy is promptly released.”
Callaway felt like jumping in the air and pumping his fist, but he was surrounded by police officers, and it would look highly unprofessional.
Fisher looked around and then said in a low voice, “I followed up on the footage from the taxi that Scott and the girl took from Yonge Avenue.”
Callaway froze.
“I think I have an idea of what might have happened that night,” she said.
Does she know about Becky? he thought.
Callaway swallowed. “What are you going to do?”
Fisher shrugged. “Nothing. We found Scott’s killer, didn’t we?”
Callaway sighed with relief. “Thanks, Dana.”
“No problem. You’re lucky Holt wasn’t around.”
“Is there a way to permanently transfer him out of Milton?”
Fisher smirked. “Not a chance. He loves it here.”
Callaway grinned. “What if we get him fired.”
Fisher rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Lee!”
ONE-HUNDRED SEVEN
The sun had begun to set. Callaway stood next to his Charger outside the Milton PD. He checked his watch for the umpteenth time.
Why is it taking so long? he thought.
A few minutes later, the doors swung open and Jimmy emerged. He spotted Callaway and came over.
“Hey, kid,” he said with a broad smile. “It’s good to be free again.”
“It’s good to see you.”
They shook hands. Jimmy reached over and hugged him. In all the years Callaway had known him, Jimmy had never once shown him affection. Jimmy’s mantra was “Grown men don’t hug and kiss; only wussies and children do that.”
Callaway suddenly felt misty.
“Thanks for everything, Lee,” he said.
“Don’t thank me. It was Fisher who saved your butt. If it was up to me, I would have let you rot in there.”
Jimmy continued smiling. “I got the feeling Detective Fisher knows more than she lets on. She’s A-okay in my books.”
“She’s one of the good ones.”
“PI’s are always better,” Jimmy said with a wink.
“No doubt about that.”
“While I was doing the paperwork for my release, Detective Fisher filled me in on Gail’s case. I knew Kirkman was hiding something. I never imagined he actually committed the crime.”
“It’s always the people you least expect.”
“Just like Rachel Scott.”
“Yep.”
They were quiet for a moment.
Jimmy said, “Can an old man give you a small piece of advice?”
“He can.”
“Don’t waste your life like I did. You still got a kid that adores you, and an ex-wife who doesn’t hate you as much as she should. If I were you, I would try to spend as much time with them as possible.”
“I have an offer on the table to have dinner with Patti and Nina. Right after I leave here, I intend to go straight to their house and take them up on their offer.”
Jimmy’s smile widened. “I’m proud of you, kid.”
ONE-HUNDRED EIGHT
A few days later
The day was bright and sunny with not a cloud in sight. The air was cool and fresh as Jimmy, Becky, and her mom walked through the cemetery together.
They stopped at a grave.
Becky said, “Go ahead.”
Jimmy nodded and moved closer to the grave.
“Read what it says,” Becky said.
He read the inscription on the headstone.
James Miller. Age 39. A wonderful father, a loving husband, a devoted son to his mother, and a man any father would be proud of.
Jimmy fell to his knees. He began to cry.
“I’m so sorry,” he repeated between hot tears. “Please forgive me.”
Becky leaned down and hugged him.
Jimmy sat next to the grave for a very long time.
He wiped his eyes and got to his feet.
“Do you want to come to our house?” Becky asked him.
Jimmy looked at her mom. She smiled and nodded. “You’re family, Jimmy.”
He smiled back.
He held Becky’s hand as they walked back to the car. He vowed he would spend the years he had left on earth atoning for all the mistakes he had made in his life.
He knew he had a long road ahead of him, but he was ready for it.
READ LEE CALLAWAY’S INTRODUCTION IN THE ROSE WATER (ECHO ROSE #4). CLICK THE LINK TO GRAB YOUR COPY TODAY!
AMAZON
If you enjoyed reading the book, please consider leaving a review. It will be greatly appreciated.
Please sign-up to receive news and updates!
Your email will not be shared with anyone else, and you will not receive any spam! Plus, when you sign up, you will be eligible to receive exclusive benefits (ie. discount on books, free short stories, cover reveal, and much more!)
www.finchambooks.com
Thomas Fincham
HYDER ALI
The Silent Reporter (Hyder Ali #1)
The Rogue Reporter (Hyder Ali #2)
The Runaway Reporter (Hyder Ali #3)
The Serial Reporter (Hyder Ali #4)
The Street Reporter (Hyder Ali #5)
The Student Reporter (Hyder Ali #0)
MARTIN RHODES
Close Your Eyes (Martin Rhodes #1)
Cross Your Heart (Martin Rhodes #2)
Say Your Prayers (Martin Rhodes #3)
Fear Your Enemy (Martin Rhodes #0)
ECHO ROSE
The Rose Garden (Echo Rose #1)
The Rose Tattoo (Echo Rose #2)
The Rose Thorn (Echo Rose #3)
The Rose Water (Echo Rose #4)
STANDALONE
The Blue Hornet
The October Five
The Falling Girl (A Private Investigator Mystery Series of Crime and Suspense, Lee Callaway #3) Page 24
