The Mystery of Jessica Benson

by Laurence, C. K.

  Over the years, everyone had witnessed one of Will’s hotheaded pursuits at some point or another. He got away with his attitude because his clearance record was so high, but every now and again he’d get stuck on a suspect who was not the guilty party. He would bang away at him or her, sounding like a broken record, until someone finally caught a lead that took them in another direction. Then Will would reluctantly move on, and more often than not, would be the one to end up solving the case. Karen supposed she was more sensitive to Will calling for Kyle’s head because she had her own insights into who Kyle really was, but could in no way share them with Will or anyone else in the Department. At least not yet.

  This afternoon, though, Will was tied up in a bunch of administrative bullshit, so Karen took the opportunity to call Kyle and ask to meet with him that evening. It was a risky move on her part, but she felt as though another face-to-face with him, this time without her partner’s input might net some answers or at least give her a better feel for Kyle’s part in this quagmire. If anything came of the meeting, she’d find a way to tell Will.

  As a precaution, however, she told Garcia about the meeting with Kyle. This way no one would be able to claim she had some clandestine plan should anything come from the session. As far as Garcia knew, her only knowledge of Kyle was through the case, and he was close enough to her that he would not spill what she confided in him to Will or anyone else on the force. She told him nothing about her past relationship with the quarterback because that would have put Garcia in a bad position. He would then have to withhold information in order to protect her from suspicious minds. If subsequent events made it necessary to face Will with what she had done, she knew Garcia would be by her side, and would not have to lie about how much he knew.

  Without the slightest hesitation Sands agreed to see her but joked that her ‘bodyguard’ would not be welcome. She assured him she would be alone, and now, here she was, not five minutes from his apartment, breaking every Department rule and then some. She was risking her career and feeling no guilt at all, for the moment at least.

  The Blue and Green Diamonds were the tallest buildings on Miami Beach. They reminded Karen of the twin towers that had risen over New York City, before being leveled by terrorists. She turned into the entrance and was struck by the splendor of the landscaping. Subtle lighting drew attention to the tropical plants and flowers bordering the driveway and decorating the grounds. She remembered something from years ago when the buildings were young. One of the towers was going into bankruptcy. Apparently, it had survived, because nothing about either of these towers spoke to anything but comfort and wealth.

  An immaculately uniformed valet had the door open before the engine of her car was off. He extended his hand and helped her from the car. She asked which entrance was for the Blue Tower and he told her that the one entrance was common to both buildings. “Once you’re inside the concierge will direct you. Will you be staying the night?”

  The question caught her off balance, and a quick picture of what that might be like crossed her mind. She couldn’t suppress a grin. “No, I shouldn’t be too long.” Dammit!

  “I’ll keep her up top here for you then, Miss.” She nodded, wondering if it was that obvious. “Miss?” She headed inside.

  The interior of the building was as elegant as it was understated. The lobby overlooked the ocean, dark now, save for a shimmering beam of moonlight dancing on the water. Erte prints lined the walls and verdant plants warmed the atmosphere. The concierge stood behind a reception desk of dark marble, which was surrounded by a wall of black and white television monitors flashing a labyrinth of hallways. He too was meticulously groomed and sported a well manicured goatee.

  “Good evening. May I be of assistance?” Very slightly accented English.

  “Hello, uh, yes, thanks. I’m here to see Kyle Sands.”

  “Ah, yes, of course. Mr. Sands called down a few minutes ago. You would be Detective Brandt?”

  “I would.”

  He pointed to a bank of glass elevators. “The first one on the left side is the express. It’ll take you directly to the penthouse. Mr. Sands resides in Penthouse II. I’ll let him know you are on your way up.”

  Kyle had just finished showering when the concierge buzzed. He pulled on jeans and grabbed an old team jersey as he trotted to answer the ringing doorbell. He wasn’t sure why she was here. He didn’t know her anymore, and the thought crossed his mind that it wasn’t going to be any kind of a private meeting as she had stated, that she might have handcuffs out, ready to arrest him. Why she would have lied, he thought, other than to make sure he wouldn’t bolt and he’d be relatively calm. He couldn’t figure it, but it had been bothering him all afternoon. Maybe it was because she’d sounded nervous when they’d spoken, a sure sign that something wasn’t what it was supposed to be.

  That was not the case. There was no nasty partner, no handcuffs, and no gun pointed at him, just the face of someone very special he had known so well during his youth. Older, but still fresh and open, perhaps even more beautiful with the extra years and the maturity they brought.

  The two stared at one another for a moment, but after the initial awkwardness of the situation, Kyle put his arms around her and gave her a long, tight hug. Then, realizing that might be really bad form, he let her go and stepped back. He shook his head and apologized.

  “I’m sorry, Karen. It was just my gut reaction. I’m sure the chief suspect hugging the detective is a breach of some kind of cop etiquette.”

  He thought to himself that if she were angry at him for his display, she was putting forth a cordial enough face. But she didn’t seem the least bit bothered by his indiscretion and smiling, asked, “Are we going to stand out here all evening or may I come in?”

  He led her to his living room which had floor-to-ceiling windows. Starlight shimmered over the ocean on this dark night. A rich, hunter green leather sofa and two armchairs separated by a mahogany coffee table sat on a thick, sculpted area rug of patterned jewel tones and formed a conversation pit. The wall displayed floating glass framed life-size paintings that froze dramatic moments on the football field. Kyle was the subject of none of them. In fact, there was nothing in the room that highlighted him or his career save for two photographs: one of his family and one of her brother Brett.

  Book shelves lined the inner apartment walls, filled with an eclectic collection of classics, mysteries and atlases, all in hardcover. There were the complete works of Shakespeare, Bartlett’s Quotations, Elmore Leonard, Tennessee Williams, John Sandford, and Barbara Parker. Al Franken’s latest lay open on a coffee table. He was not your stereotypical dumb jock.

  Kyle motioned toward the sofa and told her to make herself comfortable. “May I get you a drink?”

  “Water, please.”

  “That happens to be something I have plenty of.”

  He went to the kitchen and came back with a bottle of Zephyrhills and a lead crystal glass of ice with a lime wedge affixed to the rim. He handed her the glass and placed a coaster and cocktail napkin on the table. He stood, towering above her, not completely sure of what to do next. Finally, he shrugged and sat beside her on the sofa.

  “What? No Perrier?” Then, feeling a little stupid for her comment, “I could lose my badge for being here.”

  Kyle gave a tight grin. Still into the Perrier comment, “Nah, not into the designer waters, sorry.” A second later when the remark about losing her badge penetrated, he continued, “Does that mean you’re not going to arrest me tonight?”

  “I think I can safely assure you that I’m not. Failure to supply designer water is not an arrestable offense in Miami-Dade County. Beverly Hills, maybe.” She smiled an open, guileless smile, her eyes twinkling. He felt it throughout his body. Then suddenly, she knit her brows together, and looking quite serious, said, “Unless of course, you decide to confess and surrender yourself to me.”

  “Not in this lifetime, little girl.”

  “I’m not a litt
le girl anymore, Kyle.”

  “No, you’re sure enough not, Karen. You grew up to be a cop like your dad, though, just like you always said. And here you are, gold shield and all. If it weren’t for this ugly situation I’m in here, I’d be damned happy to see you right now, and right proud to boot.”

  She looked down, not wanting to break the spell he seemed to be casting over her, but needing to tell him, “He passed away, you know. Two years ago.”

  “I’m sorry. No. I didn’t know. Funny how you seem to lose touch with the people you care the most about. And your mom, everything okay with her?”

  “You know. Mom’s Mom. She hasn’t changed much really. Well, maybe she’s a bit more cynical than she was before she lost the two most important men in her life. But considering, she’s dealt with it all better than most would have. At least I think she has.”

  Again silence. Then Kyle decided to help her get to wherever it was she was going.

  “I know you’re not here to make small talk with me, Karen, under the circumstances.” He grimaced and continued. “This is some ugly mess I’ve gotten myself into, do you think?”

  “Yeah, I do think. Look, Kyle, I had to talk to you alone. I wasn’t kidding when I said I could lose my badge for this, but I couldn’t leave you hanging out to dry. My partner has a real hard on for you. If it were up to him, he’d have closed the case Saturday. I can’t believe, even though so many years have passed, that the Kyle Sands I knew would ever be capable of murder, certainly not a murder this violent, th-this horrific!”

  “I didn’t murder her, Karen. I swear it.”

  “I believe you. I believe you because I know you. I grew up with you. I saw you with my brother when he was dying, when none of the other kids could even look at him, he was so emaciated, and, uh, oh, damn! Kyle, I know you couldn’t murder anyone. But it couldn’t look more like you’d done it if you’d signed your name to it. If you know anything at all about what happened to Jessica, please be straight with me. I know my partner is intimidating. He takes pride in it. But the truth is, we’re after the same end.” Her words came in a rush, but then she stopped for a moment, apparently to compose her thoughts. When she spoke again, her words were measured.

  “There’s a chance that you might know something that you don’t know you know.” She smiled for a second. “I sound like who was it? Bush’s guy? Rumsfeld! ‘Known knowns and unknown unknowns.’” She went quiet again, and looked to Kyle as though she were trying to shake something free from her mind and translate it to him in words. “I’m sorry. Being here with you is harder than I had anticipated.”

  Yeah, it isn’t much of a picnic for me either, kid, he thought. He wanted to say something clever, maybe lighten the moment a little for both of them, but he was unable to find the right words.

  A tiny scar just above her right eyebrow caught his attention and he flashed back to the afternoon she had tripped over a bat lying in his backyard. She had fallen hard and gashed her head on the sharp edge of a tiny rock. She was a tough kid, always trying to show Brett and him she could go toe to toe. But whether from shock, embarrassment, or pain, that day she was just a little girl with a boo-boo, and had broken down and cried. And the two of them had taken turns hugging her and trying to make it all better.

  “So even after all these years you’re still wearing that gash over your right eye, huh? It’s looking damned sexy now though.” He had a fast thought that he was out of line big time now.

  But Karen’s mouth dropped open and she laughed out loud.

  “You haven’t changed a bit, Kyle Sands. Someone’s been killed, your life is at stake, and you go making a joke. What are you thinking?”

  “Well, for starters, it wasn’t a joke. It does look sexy…”

  “Thank you, then. No one’s ever put it to me quite that way. And I’d love to go on sharing sexy scars with you, but we really ought to save it for some time when the balance of your life isn’t hanging over our heads.”

  And that sobered them both for the moment.

  “I hear what you’re saying, but I wish you could see it from my view. I wake up one day and the world as I knew it ceases to exist. People who aren’t accusing me of murder are telling me I should be able to figure out who did kill her. One of the homicide detectives wants my ass well done, not rare. I’ve got my coach telling me to shake it off or lose my starting job. Two games left and he’s hassling me about keeping my mind on the fucking game…” He stopped suddenly and took a deep breath, letting the air slowly out. “Wow. I guess that’s more than you needed to know, huh?”

  Kyle held her eyes with his for a moment and an undeniable spark of electricity passed between them. He realized that although three years had been an insurmountable difference in age when they were kids, as adults it was nothing. Jessica had been only twenty-five, he thought. Then he looked away from her and the spell was broken.

  “I’m sorry, Kyle. I can’t even begin to imagine what this has done to you. It’s the most vicious murder I’ve ever investigated, probably one of the most sadistic ever on the Beach. The killing has ‘passion’ written all over it, and her last night with you plays out like a ‘B’ thriller. That’s the reason you’re at the top of the list of suspects. And the reverberations of your break-up that night seem to have hit everyone in town one way or another.”

  He croaked a humorless laugh. “And I’m a passionate kind of guy, is that the deal? I hear what you’re saying, but I have no way to prove I didn’t kill her. Christ! The evidence is so damning that I wouldn’t believe I hadn’t done it if I didn’t know for sure. I’ve lost my life right along with Jessica’s. They just haven’t thrown the last shovel of dirt over me yet.”

  “Cooperate with me, Kyle. Someone killed her in a mad rage, If not you, then who?”

  “God, Karen! Don’t you think I would answer that question if I had the first clue? It seems everyone I speak to knew Jessica better than I did. It’s as though I’d been dating a vision of my own creation.”

  Karen saw the torment in his face and heard it in his voice. She fought the urge to hug him, and the implications of her feelings shook her to the core. Objectivity in this investigation was cloudy for Karen, and if that became public, she’d be a homicide detective without back up. Will Kaufman was not the only cop who would turn his back on her, and he would. She would become a pariah in the Department with support from no one. The virtual signing of her resignation.

  Kyle watched silently as she chewed on her lower lip. Something was clearly bothering her and he half-worried whether he had said something incriminating. The painful silence continued until Kyle, unable to stand it, spoke her name. She reacted with a deep sigh and placed her hand on his arm. Something passed between them again, yet she was clearly not giving in to the moment. She quickly pulled her hand away and the sense of connection between the two dissolved.

  “I’ll do whatever I can to help you without crossing the line any further than I already have. Will knows me too well. He’s been angry with me since our interview with you. I feel like he’s watching my every move. I know it sounds trite, but I really do love my job. I always wanted to be a cop. Remember when you used to send me on ‘missions’ around the neighborhood when I was a kid? You had me recording license plate numbers of suspicious vehicles in the area. I wrote up every car within the five blocks I was allowed to travel. You guys were just trying to get rid of me, but I took my job very seriously, and at night I’d show dad the fruits of my labor and he’d tell me I’d have my gold shield before I ever got on the force. I started college and joined the Department as a clerk. I was a dispatcher by my sophomore year and when I graduated, just like dad predicted, I moved right up the ranks. Up until Friday it had all been so black and white to me. Idealist that I am, all I had to do to make the world safe was get the scumbags off the street. It was always so easy, until your name came up as one of the scumbags. Now I’m caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place.” She closed her eyes for a second, an
d then seemed to will herself to go on.

  “You’re a strong suspect. I know you recognize that. If you weren’t the quarterback for the Demons, they probably would have hauled you down to the station and read you your rights by now. But the unofficial word from the top is to handle you as gently as possible, which, of course, makes Will even more determined to take you off the streets.” She stood suddenly, but kept her eyes on his. “Please listen to me, Kyle. It’s best you keep to yourself. Don’t give any interviews, and when you talk to an arm of the law, have your lawyer with you. Don’t take any chances. Whoever killed her is still out there. I’ll do everything in my power to find him, or her. I won’t let you go down. Now I better get out of here real quick, before I ruin things for both of us.” She turned to leave.

  Kyle stood and reached for her. There were sparks. He’d been right about that. He grabbed deep inside himself in an attempt to find the right words. “I’d take that chance.” He smiled, but made no move to let go of her.

  She looked as though she wanted to scream, but she spoke very softly. “It’s your life, Kyle. They may cut you slack during the investigation because of who you are, but if you’re charged, they’ll bury you for the same reason.” She walked to the door.

  Kyle realized that for the first time in two days he was not thinking about Jessica Benson.

  CHAPTER NINE

  T he Homicide Division of the Beach Police Department was a study in disorganization on day three of the Jessica Benson investigation. Papers flew, cops darted back and forth, and a general sense of bedlam raged. Every available detective had been dragged into the hunt and caucused at least twice daily with either Karen or Will, or both.

  Will met with the Captain each evening, and was grilled about everything to the minutest details. The meetings always ended with the same heated warning. “It’s taking too freakin’ long! The media is biting the Mayor’s ass and he’s taking chunks outta mine. Do whatever you have to do, but close the goddamned case!” This, of course, did nothing to help Will’s already noxious frame of mind.