“This is a small island compared to the big city, where millions are jammed in with some of the worst of the worst in the world. You believe you can walk into this community without catastrophizing or falling back on profiling based on race and gender? Because the policing here needs to be modified to our conditions. Before I let you loose anywhere, you need to prove yourself to me and show me you will respect the people here first and foremost. These are people who live here, real people with complicated lives, complicated issues, and you need to understand that.
“Our two main problems here, out of which stem a lot of other problems, are mental illness and a lack of housing. The alarm going off on Gillespie is for a multimillion-dollar property that sits vacant fifty weeks out of the year and is owned by a Hong Kong resident. If you’d have read the report, you would know the alarm has gone off twenty-two times in the last thirty days because of faulty wiring. No one answers the phone at the management company, so the monitoring company for the alarm has been contacted and told to fix the problem. Which, if any, of these calls did you forward to Detective Zarko?”
Roberta blinked. “Well, I was assuming I would handle it, Chief.”
“So you didn’t call Carmen about any of these complaints? I noticed my phone didn’t ring, either. When I left here, I was quite clear with you. Answer the phone, and if there’s anything important, you call me or Carmen.”
She said nothing.
Mark held out his hand. “Where are the messages? Give them to me.”
She hesitated only a second, then walked over to Gail’s desk, where he noted files stacked. It seemed she’d been looking through them. She handed him a scrap piece of paper covered with numbers he couldn’t read and names and notes that made no sense.
“What the hell is this? Is this what you do in New York?”
“It’s my Coles Notes version. It works for me.”
He just stared at her, realizing she was serious, and gestured at the desk. “And all these files are out because…?”
“Since I’m doing nothing, I was getting myself caught up on the cases, anything that’s been overlooked.”
He wanted to snarl. This entire day was snowballing downhill, picking up speed until it could blow up in his face. But he reminded himself that he’d dealt with worse. “Put the files away. I’m not having you second-guessing anything when you can’t even take a proper message. Less than ten seconds ago, you were on my ass about not being able to police. Well, congratulations. Neither can you, based on this mess. You! Get over here.” He jabbed his finger at Dwayne, who quickly jumped up, maybe from the pissed-off expression on his face, which would have told anyone he was long past being reasonable.
“You two, put your heads together right now and get these messages written properly. I want a phone number, a contact name, the time and date the call came in, the address, and exactly what the emergency is. Start with the dog that’s tied up. If that phone rings again, I don’t want to see sloppy shit like this. A good cop would know better. You both have five minutes to do a one-eighty, or you can use that fucking door and leave. I don’t give a shit what you signed with the council or who you’re related to. Do you understand me?”
Roberta only nodded, and Dwayne reached for the paper and said, “Of course, Chief. I’ll get it to you right away.”
Then Mark walked toward his office, where Billy Jo was still staring at him from the door. He moved around her, his hand on her shoulder, and she said nothing as she closed the door. He kept walking around his desk, but he didn’t sit. He needed a second to pull it together. He forced himself to breathe in and out.
“Are you about to tell me how off base I was and that I’m only making things worse for myself?”
She made a face and shook her head. “No, I’m completely behind you. She was out of line. The envelope is in your bottom drawer, by the way. So…Desiree and Steve Jackson, you know, the murdered parents of Sunday Byrd, are very much alive and well in California.”
He pulled in a breath, doing his best to shake what felt like the island working against him. “You sure they’re alive?”
She shrugged. “Why don’t you let me check into it? That way you’ll stay off Ash and the council’s radar.”
It would be easier, but then she’d be in the line of fire. “No, but thanks. I’ll check it out and then deal with the rest of this crap. Dinner tonight…?” He looked at the clock and knew it would be a late one.
Billy Jo reached for her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I’ll take Lucky with me. You finish up what you need to do here, and I’ll figure out something for dinner for us.”
She slid her hands over his chest and rose up on her tiptoes, then pressed her hands to his cheeks and kissed him softly. Then she pulled back. It was unexpected, and he just stared as she walked straight over to the door. She was wearing blue jeans that fit her nicely, and something else about her seemed so different.
When she pulled open the door, Dwayne appeared with a handful of notes, smiling at Billy Jo as he walked past her into Mark’s office.
“Here are the messages, Chief,” he said.
Mark glanced at the notes, the names, the numbers, something that made sense. “Roberta, get in here,” he called out, then handed a message to Dwayne. “Get the animal shelter to pick up this dog, and stop in at this other address. Call Carmen now and tell her to get out to the beach and take care of the nuisance complaint.”
Roberta stepped up beside Dwayne and said nothing.
“And you, Roberta, call back the lady about the landlord wanting her naked photos and videos, and get a statement from her. When you find out the landlord’s name is Freddie White, who’s had a dozen complaints filed against him from women trying to rent a place, find out if she gave him anything and whether he took money from her. Then you get the file on my desk, and I’ll have a word with him again. Then I want you to go into the database and find out everything you can about a couple in California, Desiree and Steve Jackson. They have a sixteen-year-old daughter named Sunday.”
He took in the two cops, whom he still didn’t have a clue what to do with. Both were standing and staring at him.
“What are you waiting for?” he said. Dwayne walked out of the office, but Roberta’s expression told him she had something else to say.
“So what, exactly, do you want me to look for on this Desiree and Steve Jackson?” she said.
He glanced to the front door, where Billy Jo was walking out with Lucky. Damn, he really did love her. Maybe he should tell her so. Then he dragged his gaze back to Roberta. “Anything. What they do for a living, an address, a phone number, parking tickets, how many kids they have, any red flags of any kind. Find out anything and everything you can about what they’ve done in the last month. Then you give it to me and no one else.”
Her face was an open question, but, to her credit, she only shrugged, walked to the door, and said, “Sure, Chief. I’ll start working on it now.”
Chapter Twelve
“You just stay right here. I won’t be long,” Billy Jo said, running her hand over Lucky. She had rolled the window down enough that a breeze was blowing in, and Lucky lay in the backseat of her new car as she stepped out at the beachside access, where she’d parked beside a sleek silver Jag.
She started down the narrow trail and steps that led down to a rocky beach, and there she was, her blond hair hanging in soft waves, blowing in the breeze. She wore a brown cardigan and blue jeans, her arms were crossed, and she was staring out at the waves crashing against the shore. Billy Jo walked carefully over the rocks to join her, and Sunday glanced only once her way. She was a few inches taller, slender, curvy, and her blue eyes were filled with something Billy Jo didn’t understand.
“You’re probably asking yourself why I said Ash killed my parents,” she said.
That was one of many questions she had, among which was why Sunday had called, wanting to meet with her, the minute she climbed in her car with Lucky.
&nbs
p; “Well, you called me out here to explain. I don’t understand why you showed up at the chief’s with that story. You know your husband paid him a visit and warned him off, and I have to wonder if you had your hand in any of what he alluded to. I think you know what I’m talking about, the implication that Chief Friessen might suddenly find himself under investigation for sexual impropriety with a sixteen-year-old. You.” She really emphasized the last part.
The ocean rustled Sunday’s hair as she said nothing in response, just looking out.
“So tell me, Sunday, was any of that bullshit story you told us when you knocked on Mark’s door true?”
This time Sunday looked right at her. “Some. My mom was working in Hollywood, and she did find herself in trouble, but it was the other way around. Ash was the one getting her out of the hot mess she’d found herself in. You know, most people have no idea that in Hollywood, you can get access to things no one else can. I remember hearing that in one of my earliest memories. I met so many big-time Hollywood players who came through because they had a problem, from a high-profile divorce, to being outed as gay, to drugs, sex, and gambling. He even scared off a few reporters who were hassling this big star. They were always being caught doing things they shouldn’t have been doing, and I’d hear everything as Ash listened to their whining, their freaking out.
“He had an open door, as he said. ‘You come to me with a problem, I solve the problem, and you pay me, but if you lie to me, you’re dead.’ You know, every one of those Hollywood elites knew I was just a kid, yet when they realized I was his wife, they smiled and said nothing. I could see the envy in their eyes, a few of the men. When I told him I was leaving him, before I had Sammy, he said the only way I would leave was six feet under.
“Ash records every meeting, every conversation, and all his recordings are encrypted. He knows how to terrorize someone, how to turn your life upside down so your personal information is no longer your personal information. If someone was causing a problem, he’d do anything and everything until that person could barely function. He’d run them off the road, make threatening phone calls in the middle of the night, cut their brakes, slash their tires, even disengage a locked electronic gate and disarm their security. I know he made sure explosives were planted in one’s office, and a tip was called in to the FBI. The C4 and grenades they found were enough for federal charges, and the guy was locked away. So I know when he says six feet under, he’ll never let me go.” She was looking right at Billy Jo, young and old at the same time.
“Does he hurt you?”
Sunday only stared at her. “He has a girlfriend down in San Diego. I have no idea why he wanted me.”
“You’re not answering me. Does he hit you, hurt you?”
She smiled and let out a laugh. “No, Ash is the perfect gentleman. He just doesn’t share what’s his with anyone.”
What the hell did she mean by that? Billy Jo had to remind herself that everyone had a story, even though she wanted to turn around and walk away. “So you want to leave Ash, is that what this is about? What about your parents? Can you not call them and go home?”
The way she looked at her again reminded Billy Jo of the unfeeling adults who had hurt her when she was just a kid. “Steve and Desiree care only about Steve and Desiree. They were the ones who took me to Ash and okayed this sham of a marriage. They took away my freedom, and now I’m stuck in this hell and can’t do anything. Yes, I want to leave and get as far away from him as I can so that he can’t find me or our kids.”
Billy Jo could feel her anger. “So you want to disappear. You know, Chief Friessen doesn’t know you’re meeting me here, and your going to him only put a target on him. I have to know, are you suddenly going to accuse Mark of something that could destroy him?”
She smiled and shook her head. “No, that’s more Ash’s style, not mine. I heard the new chief was the kind of guy who didn’t look away when someone needed help and that he had a thing for the island social worker, you. Seeing you at his place when I knocked on the door, I have to say I didn’t expect that. He’s a very handsome man, attractive…”
Billy Jo crossed her arms over her chest and fisted her hands. “Is this a game to you? Because you’re not messing with him. You may be married to Ash Byrd, but I’ll take a chunk out of you if you do anything, say anything, or tell any lies about Mark. I may not be on your husband’s level, but I do know how to fight, and I will come out swinging for someone I love.”
Sunday actually lifted her hands and laughed as she stepped back. “Whoa, there. Cool off. I get it: He’s yours, and you don’t want anyone messing around with him. I just want to leave Ash. And my parents, they can go straight to hell.”
Billy Jo dragged her gaze back out to the waves, then nodded as she glanced back to Sunday. “You would’ve set up Mark with no remorse if your husband told you to.”
She supposed anyone else would have denied it, but Sunday only blinked, far too calm. “It’s too bad that you happened to be there when I knocked on the door,” she said, and the knot in Billy Jo’s stomach tightened as she stared at a teenager who didn’t seem to have an ounce of empathy.
“Keep your phone on. I’ll make a call. But, Sunday, when you leave, disappear. I don’t ever want to hear from you again.”
Then Billy Jo walked back to the stairs and started up them. When she reached the top, she looked back at the teenager, a shell of a girl who should have been innocent. As she stared at Sunday Byrd, the pieces were falling together: the lying, the lack of remorse or empathy. She figured if she looked closer into the girl, she might also find that she was cruel, manipulating and hurting others, with no idea of right and wrong. Mark would walk right into her trap, doing anything to help her, and when he figured out what he was dealing with, even Billy Jo wouldn’t be able to save him.
She lifted her cell phone, and it rang only once.
“Hello?”
She watched Sunday shove her hands in her sweater pockets, and she thought of Gail, who’d given her this number.
“Hello,” Billy Jo said. “Vera Scott sent me.”
“Tell me where you are.”
She nodded, wondering what Gail knew about Sunday that she didn’t, and she turned away and started up the trail to her car, rattling off her address. The woman hung up on her after saying she’d call her back, and Billy Jo pulled open the door and slid behind the wheel. Lucky kissed her face.
“Just one more stop, boy, and then we’re going home.”
Chapter Thirteen
The chime of the doorbell had her holding her breath for a moment, and she reached down and ran her hand over Lucky, who was right beside her. When the door opened, staring down at her was a familiar unsmiling round face. The way he looked at her reminded her why she’d never liked Tolly Shephard.
“What are you doing here?” he said.
Okay, so now it was awkward.
“Hi. Is Gail here?” Billy Jo did her very best to put all the friendliness she could into her voice as she looked up at a man who had never made a secret of how much he didn’t like her, either.
He stepped back, then bent down to the dog. “Hey there, Lucky. Missed you.”
At least the dog was welcome.
Tolly gestured to her. “Well, come on in,” he drawled and stepped back. “She’s in the kitchen, just getting dinner on.”
Billy Jo slipped off her sandals and walked inside, and she heard Gail fussing over Lucky, who had walked right in. She followed the dog and took in Gail at the island with what looked like dinner preparations underway, a pot on the stove, a cutting board out, and a mix of vegetables cut up.
“Well, this is a surprise,” Gail said. “What brings you by?”
Billy Jo found herself looking back for Tolly, but he wasn’t there. She took another step back, angling her head to the front door.
“He’s likely in his den,” Gail said, evidently knowing what she was doing. She gestured to the front of the house. “Hides out in there more an
d more as of late.”
“Well, remember your visit earlier to my office?”
Gail turned off the stove and gestured sharply for her to be quiet, pressing a finger to her lips. She walked to the back door and pulled it open, and Billy Jo followed her outside onto the deck. The dog had already gone out ahead and was down on the grass.
“Let’s go for a walk,” Gail said and started down the steps onto the grass of the backyard, which stretched out for a long way. The view of the ocean in the distance was breathtaking, and so was the privacy.
“So I met with Sunday Byrd,” Billy Jo said. “She lied about her parents being murdered. I don’t understand why she’d do it. She wants to leave him, though. I’m here because it seems as if I’m the only one who doesn’t understand what’s going on. I mean, come on, Gail. You showed up with all this cloak and dagger stuff, which is starting to weird me out a bit. I made the call, used the name…” She gestured widely.
Gail made a face and pulled her arms over her chest, looking down at her as they walked. “You know, this view never gets old. It was why we bought this place, why we built the house where we did. A wonderful place to raise the kids, growing up on the island in a small community where you know your neighbors. If someone does something, you know who it is. Just like in the big city, bad things happen to women in smaller communities, but we have even more strikes against us and nowhere to go.”
Billy Jo found herself looking back to the house as they approached two red Adirondack chairs set up in the middle of the grass. She thought they’d sit, but Gail kept walking, taking her further from the house. “You warned me about Sunday. I guess I need to know why.”
For a moment, Gail said nothing. They were closer to the edge of the yard, and she could see the valley and the ocean in the distance. “I heard you and Mark paid a visit to Ash Bryd,” she finally said. “The phone rang right after you were there. Ash called Tolly, told him he gave Mark everything he needed to keep his job. Did Mark open the packet?”
The Stranger Next Door Page 9
