by V. K. Powell
“Good morning, ma’am, I’m Donna Burke. May I help you?”
“Yes, please, my name is Eva Saldana. I have an appointment with Chief Bryant.”
“Of course, he’s been expecting you. Welcome to New Hope.”
“Thank you.”
“Vaguely familiar. She wouldn’t know a celebrity if one bit her on the nose,” Donna muttered. “Sorry. One of our detectives thought you looked familiar. Obviously she doesn’t watch CNN or she’d know who you are, Ms. Saldana.” Without waiting for a response, she said, “The chief is on a conference call right now, but he’ll be with you in a few minutes. Could I offer you something to drink while you wait?”
“No, thank you.”
How much about Eva’s visit had the chief relayed to his secretary? Did she know the reason for their meeting this morning? If so, would she be as cordial? Donna motioned to one of the red-cushioned armchairs in front of her desk and Eva sat down.
“If you don’t mind my asking, how long will you be in New Hope, Ms. Saldana?”
Eva searched Donna’s face and found only sincerity. “I’m not sure yet.”
“Have you found a place to stay? I could recommend something.”
“I’ve made arrangements in Hurley at an extended-stay facility.”
“That’s a shame. Hurley’s a thirty-minute drive, and it’s not nearly as welcoming as New Hope. I think you’ll like our town.”
Eva relaxed a little. Why was she accepting Donna’s questions without reservation? Her voice, which had a slightly Southern accent, genuine and hospitable, helped make some of Eva’s stress about her meeting evaporate.
Donna smiled conspiratorially. “Well, if you change your mind, I might be able to help with a place much closer and cheaper. A private home with more of a personal touch.”
“You’re very kind.” Why did small-town residents try to assimilate anyone who crossed their borders? Eva thought of Lagos, grimaced, and decided she wouldn’t be staying long enough to find out.
The door to Chief Bryant’s office opened and a tall, silver-haired man strode toward her. Weather-etched skin crinkled around his eyes and mouth when he smiled. He extended his hand. “Ms. Saldana, I’m Sam Bryant. It’s a pleasure to meet you, though I’m sorry it’s under such unfortunate circumstances.” His deep voice was soft and soothing. “I was a big fan of your father’s work and of yours as well.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Chief Bryant released her hand and motioned her into his office. “We can talk inside. Donna, hold my calls, please.”
As Eva walked by, Bryant’s lanky frame loomed at least six inches above her, foreshadowing the enormity of her task. What happened here today would determine what she would be doing in the immediate future. Would she be on assignment in yet another foreign location or stay in this quaint little town? Either the police department would grant her request or she’d have her next assignment right here.
Bryant crossed to a corner fireplace, repositioned the logs with a poker, and pointed to a mahogany-colored leather chair near the heat. “Have a seat, Ms. Saldana, and we’ll get started.” Bryant pulled a matching chair alongside and joined her.
Eva began her rehearsed speech. “Chief Bryant, I’m very concerned about the investigation of my brother’s death, which was ruled an overdose. Paul was a very stable and socially connected person. He didn’t even use over-the-counter medications. He believed in natural alternatives. I believe your detectives missed something and I’m requesting that they reexamine his death. I can’t accept their conclusion. It simply isn’t possible. You don’t know Paul as I do—did.” She released a sigh at having finally said the words she had repeated over and over in her head for weeks. She couldn’t say any more. Tears burned behind her eyes but she maintained her composure.
“I’m sorry about your brother, and I understand that you have concerns. I’ve asked Sergeant Fluharty of the homicide squad to review the case to make sure we didn’t miss anything. He’s in the best position to do that.”
“Thank you. I appreciate his time and yours.”
Chief Bryant’s gaze never left Eva’s. “I not only want you to think that we did our best, but I also want you to know that we did. And I apologize for having to ask this, but you’re sure your brother wasn’t into recreational drug use?”
The question made her shudder. She’d asked herself that many times in the four months since his death, and the answer was always the same. Paul was the straightest arrow in their family, focused and completely above reproach, as far as she was aware. But you never truly know another human being, especially someone in your family. She couldn’t say that to the chief of police. She had to go with her gut. “My brother wouldn’t defile his body with drugs.”
Bryant silently studied her, offering, it seemed, an opportunity to reconsider her answer. “You evidently have astute investigative skills, Ms. Saldana, so we have our work cut out for us. If Sergeant Fluharty doesn’t clear things up, feel free to call.” He pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to her. “All my numbers are on there. In a small town, it’s a requirement to be available twenty-four seven.”
Something in Sam Bryant’s eyes reassured Eva that he and his staff would hear her concerns and take them seriously. “I’m willing to listen.”
“Thank you for that. Fluharty runs a tight ship. I’ll have Donna call the evidence room. Someone will bring your brother’s personal effects to you shortly.” Bryant preceded her to the door and held it open. “To the right.”
When they approached the door marked Homicide Squad, Eva stopped and drew a ragged breath. She silently promised her baby brother again that she would uncover the truth about his death. Then she promised herself that when this was over, she would settle down and have a real life. Her nomadic lifestyle didn’t satisfy her any longer, though the work defined her in so many ways. Paul’s death had proved that no one is guaranteed tomorrow.
Bryant opened the door and waved her inside.
When Eva stepped into the room with the homicide detectives, her game face slipped on and her posture tightened. This was about her loved one, not an anonymous face in some third-world country. This small group of strangers had already judged the events in the most important story of her life and she wanted to try to reverse that decision. At least she didn’t know any of these people, so it should be easier to be objective. But as she gazed at the woman holding center stage in the room, something else became clear. Greer Ellis, friend or foe, would be an issue.
Chapter Two
Eva walked into the narrow room crowded with battered metal desks. A patchwork of bulletin boards, wanted posters, and phone numbers covered the faded beige walls, riddled with nail holes. The room smelled of scorched coffee and fresh donuts. Eva smiled at the old cliché but focused on Greer Ellis.
As she and Chief Bryant entered unnoticed, everyone was staring at Greer, who stood in the center of the room, hands raised. She debated a dark-haired, middle-aged man with no neck and a football-player build. His checked shirt needed ironing, and he strummed his fingers on the desk as she spoke.
“Come on, Sarge. I wasn’t even a minute late. Besides, I was helping some lost woman in the parking lot. Really, when I came in, she was—”
“Sit down, Greer. We’ve had this discussion before. I don’t like to repeat myself.” The man’s tone was calm and fatherly.
“Jeez, Sarge. I promise, I was helping a lady.”
Chief Bryant whispered into Eva’s ear, “Greer obviously had too much caffeine this morning.”
The comment implied a level of familiarity that Eva didn’t share with her own staff or colleagues.
“And another thing, Greer. What do you mean pulling that stunt yesterday? You know we don’t make any kind of arrest, especially felonies, without backup. You need to be more careful. We have rules for a reason. I don’t want to be the one to tell your Aunt Bessie…” The man shuffled some papers uncomfortably.
Greer straig
htened and the muscles along her shoulders twitched. “I’ll do better.” The statement sounded obligatory but not binding. Greer Ellis obviously found it easier to get forgiveness than permission.
The sergeant started to speak again, but glanced at Eva and Chief Bryant at the back of the room and sprang from his seat. “Good morning, Chief.”
The detectives swiveled, then straightened in their chairs. Maybe because of the chief, or maybe because of her. Greer pivoted on her heel and swept her piercing stare over Eva again, making her uneasy.
Chief Bryant grinned, shaking his head as Greer sat down. “Good morning, folks. This is Ms. Eva Saldana, CNN investigative journalist. She’s here in an unofficial capacity, inquiring about the death of her brother, Paul Saldana. I believe JJ handled the case.”
A fortysomething man with a buzz cut, blue eyes, and pale crow’s-feet offered his hand. “Jake Johnston at your service. Call me JJ. I’ll be glad to answer any questions.” JJ was moderately handsome with his bronze skin and flashy smile, but a bit too eager.
Sergeant Fluharty elbowed JJ aside and shook Eva’s hand. “It’s good to meet you, Ms. Saldana. I’m Sergeant Fred Fluharty, welcome to NHPD.” Fluharty, as tall as Chief Bryant, was heavier, with a small potbelly. His oval face glowed when he smiled, sending a blush up to his retreating hairline. “JJ’s our most experienced detective. We’ll try to address your concerns.”
Chief Bryant headed for the door. “I see you’re in good hands, so I’ll leave you to it, Ms. Saldana. Let me know if you need anything else.”
Sergeant Fluharty relaxed his posture when the door closed behind the chief. “Let me introduce you to our other three detectives.” He motioned toward the others in the room. “Since our squad is so small, everybody usually works on the major cases.”
He pointed to a young, dark-skinned man with an inscrutable expression. The Fu Manchu–style facial hair that encircled his mouth and chin made him appear serious. His body was muscular, his bearing militaristic. “This is Detective Derrick Bastile. We call him Breeze.”
The man nodded. “Welcome, Ms. Saldana.” His rich baritone voice suggested confidence and authority.
“Breeze?” she asked.
“As in cool, I would imagine. You’ll probably get a nickname if you’re here longer than an hour or two.”
Eva turned her attention to the other male. “This is Craig Myrick,” Fluharty said, “our resident computer guy and an excellent detective.”
Myrick glanced up from his laptop long enough to mumble, “Hey, I like your stuff on CNN,” and returned to his work. His pale skin contrasted to his jet black swept-back hair and droopy eyebrows.
“Thank you.” Eva’s pulse hiked as she and the sergeant approached the final officer, who had been so rude earlier. She breathed deeply to control her response, but this woman made her wary and excited.
“And this is Greer Ellis.” Fluharty gave Greer his best be-nice stare.
The vibrant blue of Greer’s eyes churned like the depths of the ocean, briefly emitting pleasure, pain, and confusion. Eva stared at the mysterious scar that carved a clean path through the woman’s brow and clung to the strong hand that covered hers. Strangely familiar warmth crawled down her spine and grounded her. Eva couldn’t force herself from the overwhelming visceral sensations until Greer’s full lips moved.
“Eva Saldana. Now I know why you looked familiar.” Greer radiated mischief and rebellion like a neon warning sign on the roadway.
Eva struggled to maintain her equilibrium as sensation flooded her. She hadn’t responded to a woman this strongly or quickly…ever, not even with her recently increased appetites. But she needed to control her overactive libido right now.
JJ cleared his throat and announced, “Hey, Greer, shouldn’t you let the lead detective take the lead?”
When Eva realized they still held hands and locked eyes, she stepped away.
Sergeant Fluharty said, “Ms. Saldana, if you’ll follow me, we’ll get started. JJ has court this morning, but we won’t need him.” The detective looked disappointed as he gathered his briefcase and headed out.
Fluharty closed the door to his office and motioned for Eva to take a seat. Then he poured a cup of coffee and loaded it with sugar. “Care for some?”
“No, thank you.” Fluharty’s office seemed like a closet full of filing cabinets.
“I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. It isn’t easy to lose a loved one especially unexpectedly.” He sat down and spread his huge hands across a file folder on his desk. “Now, how can I help you, Ms. Saldana?”
Fluharty’s eyes looked tired and bloodshot. Eva hoped he hadn’t been up all night on a case, because she needed his full attention. “That should be obvious. I don’t believe my brother overdosed.”
“What do you base that on?”
“He didn’t take drugs of any kind.”
“To your knowledge.” Fluharty’s statement sounded like an accusation.
“I’m in a better position to know what my brother would do than a group of strangers. No disrespect intended, Sergeant.”
“So you saw your brother often and spent long periods of time with him?”
“No. We have separate lives, like most siblings.”
“He lived in Lagos, Portugal. Is that your home as well?”
“My work requires a great deal of travel, but what does that have to do with Paul’s death?”
“I’m trying to understand your relationship better.”
Fluharty’s professional tone contained no hint of compassion for her situation. He seemed to be trying to paint an ugly picture of her brother’s life. “Sergeant, my brother didn’t have a complete personality change. I know what he is—was—like.”
“How many deaths have you investigated during your career?”
“That’s not the point.” Eva’s skin prickled.
“It is certainly a point. Jake Johnston has investigated death cases for ten years. Nothing gets by him. If he says your brother died of an overdose and the autopsy shows nothing to the contrary, that’s how he died. I know how difficult this is for you.”
The warmth in Eva’s veins turned hot. “I’m sorry, but I don’t share your confidence. Is your idea of a case review to simply defend your decision?”
“Hardly, Ms. Saldana. The chief told me three days ago that you were coming, so I’ve studied every detail of the case numerous times. JJ followed every lead, considered every angle, and explored every possible scenario. I wish I could tell you that I have questions, but I don’t.” Almost apologetic, he showed the first signs of emotion.
Despite his warmth, Eva clenched her hands into tight fists and struggled to contain her anger. A man in Fluharty’s position would probably use her volatile emotions to justify his point. “But I have questions, Sergeant. I just want your detectives to review the case once more.”
“We don’t have the manpower to revisit cases every time a family member asks. That’s why I went over this one again personally. Unfortunately, drug deaths are a fact of life here, and we get more every day. I can’t spare an officer to look into a closed case.”
Eva willed her voice to remain calm. “Then give me access to your files and I’ll investigate it myself.”
“I can’t release departmental files to a civilian. Besides, that would hardly be an objective third-party review.”
“What about a compromise, a joint review? I’ll study the facts with one of your men supervising.”
Fluharty blew out a long breath. “That’s against policy too. I wish I could do more, but my hands are tied.”
“Change the policy. Nothing is carved in stone.” Except your rules and regulations, apparently.
“That’s not how we do business, Ms. Saldana. This isn’t one of your CNN cover stories. We have departmental guidelines for a reason. If we make one exception, the whole system comes under scrutiny.”
Fluharty threw up roadblocks to every suggestion, and Eva slipped into
panic mode, an uncommon state for her. She’d faced far more dangerous opponents on assignments throughout the world, but this one was personal. This man’s decision threatened to dislodge one certainty in her life—Paul’s basic goodness. “Please, Sergeant, I know my brother. Consider another possibility.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, there is no other possibility. People lie. Evidence doesn’t. We found a half ounce of cocaine in your brother’s room. His nasal cavity looked like upstate New York during a blizzard.” He stopped, as if reconsidering his comment. “I’m sorry, that was unkind. But he had enough drugs in his system to kill him twice. Nothing in his room or on his person pointed to foul play.” Fluharty waved the file in front of her like a red flag. “Everything we have points to an overdose. I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but these are the facts.” His final statement rang with genuine regret.
Eva was standing over Fluharty’s desk with her fists clenched at her sides before she realized that she’d risen. “My brother did not do drugs. Are you listening?” Her voice sounded strained and foreign, its pitch higher and shaking with emotion. “You must believe me.” Fluharty’s expression told her she was wasting her breath. To him, she was just another bereaved relative incapable of objectivity.
The beige folder on his desk with her brother’s name scribbled across it looked blurry through her tears, but she refused to let them fall. This man had no idea how much this case meant to her or how far she would go to uncover the truth. She straightened and locked stares with him. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time. I’ll continue this conversation with the chief.”
It took every ounce of her willpower to walk slowly out of his office and into the parking lot. All she saw was the red of her anger and the dark abyss of her situation.
