“Do you still see her?” The question—and her urgent need for an answer—surprised her.
“No,” Nick answered without hesitation. “Like I said, it was just that one time. In fact, I haven’t been back to the bar since. I don’t see that group anymore. I hang out with different people.”
Carly knew what he meant. There was a group of cops who regularly frequented Rachel’s. They were hell-raisers, always on the edge. Most were married, and all boasted about female conquests. She’d never liked the idea of Nick going out drinking with them. He’d always told her she had no reason to worry. Yeah, right.
“You hang out with church people now?”
“Yes, I do. That night in the bar, those guys—you know who I mean—they egged me on, taunted me about being a man.” He looked at Carly, his eyes liquid blue. “It’s not manly to cheat on your wife. It’s not anything but pure destructive foolishness. I’m not trying to shift the blame, but I learned a hard lesson. Now I hang out with people who support me, not people who want to drag me down.”
The emotions raging within her made Carly shift in her seat. The closeness with Nick now, the feeling of intimacy, made her swallow a hot gulp of coffee as she grasped for a distraction. She fought the overpowering urge to reach out and take her ex-husband’s hand by clinging to her coffee cup.
“I always said they were knuckleheads.” She fidgeted with her cup and her stomach growled. “You got anything to eat in this house?”
The subject change lifted the mood. Nick found the fixings for omelets and fried some up. The rest of the conversation centered on neutral work issues. They skirted the shooting. Carly relished the omelet, her first meal since the funeral.
When the phone rang, Nick answered it in the kitchen. His side of the conversation was unrevealing, a stream of yes and no and one or two ums. He wasn’t happy when he hung up.
“That was Jeanette, Garrison’s secretary. They want me in the office ASAP. Will you be okay?”
“This early in the morning?” The sky outside the kitchen was just beginning to brighten. “Did she say why?” Carly couldn’t admit she didn’t want him to leave. This is getting too comfortable.
“No, you know how she is. I just have to be there—orders.”
They both looked at the clock, which said it was a little after six.
“I’ll be fine. Just leave me your backup. Homicide took my backup, and my duty weapon is in my locker. I think I’ll try to go back to sleep.”
“Okay. My 9mm is in the bedroom nightstand. I’ll hurry home.”
His concern touched her, and warmth spread throughout her body, as if she stood next to a raging fire. But when she thought he was going to lean over and give her a kiss, she tensed. Instead, he picked up her dirty dishes and put them in the sink.
Carly went back to bed while Nick showered; she lay there until after she heard his car start up and drive away. Sleep wouldn’t come, so she got up to start the day.
After she showered and dressed, she thrilled Maddie with the leash. “How about a walk around the old neighborhood?”
The dog barked in excitement. Still somewhat anxious, Carly grabbed Nick’s gun and shoved it in her jacket pocket before she left the house. Though the day was bathed in brilliant morning sunshine, she knew the wary feeling would be with her for a while, tickling her mind, making her wonder if someone was lurking in the shadows.
The pair walked for an hour through the familiar housing tract, Carly’s mind active with thoughts flitting from Derek to Teresa to Jeff and finally settling on Nick. Her ex-husband posed a dilemma that last week she would have said was impossible.
Two days ago I couldn’t tolerate being in the same room with him. Now I feel myself missing him after one stressful night. I can’t get so comfortable having him around. I can’t forgive and forget. I can’t.
The effort it took to drum up anger at Nick surprised her. Back at the house, Carly’s mind seemed tangled in a cascade of confusing thoughts as she unlocked the front door. It was the low growl in Maddie’s throat that made her stop in the entryway.
“What is it, girl?” Carly followed the dog’s gaze down the hallway. Not again. She heard nothing. Quietly she reached into her pocket and took out Nick’s 9mm, clicking the safety off. Maddie barked.
“Nick, is that you?” Carly called out, still trying to hear what the dog heard.
“Carly, it’s me.” The male voice made Carly jump and sent Maddie straining at the leash in a barking frenzy. Keeping a tight grip on the gun with one hand and trying to calm the dog down with the other, Carly backed toward the door.
“Who’s there?” She jerked Maddie’s leash and pulled her toward the door. The gun she kept pointed down the hall.
“It’s Jeff. I’m going to step into the hall.”
“Slowly, very slowly.” Carly shushed the dog, who eventually sat obediently, still very attentive.
Jeff stepped out to where she could see him. At the end of the hall stood the emaciated, bearded man Carly remembered from the restaurant.
“How did you get in here?”
“I’m Nick’s best friend, remember? I know where he keeps his spare key.” He held both hands out, palms up. “Are you going to keep pointing that gun at me?”
The fear she’d felt paled as anger flashed. “I ought to just shoot you! Do you have any idea what’s been going on? You’re wanted for killing a hooker and maybe the mayor. The whole department thinks you were on the take. Give me one good reason I can trust you!”
“Because I know why Derek Potter tried to kill you.”
24
The clock in the kitchen chimed nine times. Carly opened the living room blinds and let daylight spill in. Jeff was dressed as an electric company representative. She kept the gun in her hand even after she was sure it was Jeff.
“It’s me.” He smacked his chest with his hands for emphasis. “I couldn’t get in touch with you any sooner. I turned my phone off because I couldn’t risk anything tipping them off to where I was.” He rambled on like a speed freak and did nothing to put Carly at ease. “Disappearing was my only option. Elaine can’t have the slightest idea where I am. I took a big risk coming here this time of day, but after what happened with that prostitute, we need to talk.”
“The prostitute? Yeah, we need to talk about that, but how do you know about what just happened to me? And how do I even know if I can trust you?”
“I think you know, and I bet you do trust me. If you didn’t, you would have dimed me out by now. I’m not a murderer.” He bounced from foot to foot and then moved to stand to one side of the window, where he could watch the street.
Carly studied the skinny shell of a man in front of her. I threw in with him when I stonewalled Sergeant Tucker. I still feel like I made the right decision, in spite of the mess my life seems to be in. Reluctantly she slid the gun into her pocket.
“I hope you have something to say that will give me a clue as to what is going on. Take a seat.” She pointed, and Jeff relaxed slightly but shook his head.
“It’s been a rough couple of days,” he said.
“No kidding!” Carly sat while Jeff remained standing, peeking out the window every so often.
“Look, I’ll tell you what I know. But I swear, you still can’t trust Nick, and I can’t believe you’re here at his house. I shouldn’t be here, but I needed to come and warn you.” Anger flashed across Jeff’s face like lightning.
“Why?” Carly refused to be cowed by Jeff and vowed to get some answers. “How can you say that about your best friend? Part of the reason I believe you’re not a murderer is because Nick believes you’re not.”
“Someone in the department—it has to be a sergeant or higher—is feeding information about police department staffing and procedures to Mario Correa and Galen Burke.”
“The harbor superintendent and the grieving widower?” Carly frowned.
Jeff nodded and began to pace behind the sofa. “Correa is responsible for 80 percen
t of all the foreign narcotics shipped into Las Playas and therefore into the rest of Southern California. I made that big bust a few months ago because I ignored department restrictions about surveillance. The narcotics section has been set up to ignore Correa; by omission they help his smuggling flourish.”
“What does that have to do with Nick? He’s never worked narcotics.”
“Right after I shared with him how I was able to make that bust, the hammer came down and narco’s surveillance of the harbor was cut to nothing.”
“That doesn’t mean Nick—”
He stopped and faced her. “Just be careful; that’s all I ask!”
“Okay, okay. Now what about last night? Why on earth would Derek Potter want to kill me?”
“I’ll get to that. There’s one more thing I want to clear up.” He paused for a minute before continuing. “You have to believe me—I wasn’t having an affair with Teresa Burke.”
“You don’t owe me—”
“Yes, yes I do. My involvement with her probably led to her death. It’s not something that’s easy to live with.” He moved to sit directly across from Carly on the arm of the sofa and closed his eyes, then opened them and leaned forward. “Our relationship was not sexual. She came to me after the big drug bust. She realized that if I was willing to go after Correa, I wasn’t one of them. She was suspicious about her husband. She feared he was involved with Correa in some way. Well, everything I’ve seen so far says she was right. She disappeared the day after I told her what I knew.”
Jeff’s moist, haunted eyes held Carly’s. “I decided to lie low when I read about her disappearance. I’m convinced if I hadn’t, I’d be dead too.” He looked down and took a deep breath.
“It’s not your fault,” Carly said.
“You don’t understand. I know my own coworkers tore my house apart with a search warrant, and when they didn’t find what they wanted legitimately, they sent thugs to do a more thorough job the next night. At first I didn’t know why they went to all that trouble; I had nothing there for them to find. Nothing to help them connect me to Cinnamon’s murder like they want. But now . . . now I know what they were looking for.”
She could see anger replace grief on his face.
“I got a letter from Teresa. She used snail mail because someone had hacked her e-mail. She must have mailed it the day she died. I hadn’t checked my PO box for nearly a week because I was afraid it was being watched.” He sniffed and straightened. “Anyway, when I checked it, there was this letter from her, telling me she was going to confront her husband. I had told her how her husband was using her good name for illegal purposes. Because of that she felt responsible to confront Galen. She didn’t fear him. Don’t you see? I made her confront him, and he killed her.”
“It’s still not your fault. The only one responsible for her death is the dirtbag who strangled her. What’s important is catching the right killer.”
“I know. It’s just . . . well, reading the letter, I knew she believed Galen wouldn’t hurt her. She was naive. I should’ve explained it better. I should have told her how evil he was.” He got up and checked the window before beginning to pace again. “She also sent me a thumb drive that she said would hang Galen and Correa. I’m sure that’s what whoever tore my house apart wanted.”
“Jeff, if you have evidence, let’s give the drive to homicide! Isn’t that something that will clear this mess up?”
“For the illegal activity, not the murders. We need to get something that will implicate Burke and Correa in the murders. That’s where Derek comes in. Before Teresa’s murder, I conducted my own personal surveillance around the harbor, specifically of Correa’s unofficial office in the Harbor Administration building. Ever since Derek went on stress leave, he’s been working for Correa. And I know he was tailing me at one time.”
“Tailing you?”
“Yeah, I caught him once and was able to shake him. I’m also convinced he was working as Correa’s muscle. I lost track of him after Teresa’s disappearance. But I thought I saw him when we met at the Apex, and it spooked me.”
“You did see him there. He stopped me on my way out.”
Jeff cursed and stopped pacing. “He must have seen us together. I’d bet my pension he reported directly to either Correa or Galen Burke. They might have thought I told you something that would implicate them. I’m afraid Teresa may have told them everything I knew and suspected before she died. Anyway, I’m sure you were to be eliminated because you talked to me. They think you know something.”
“I don’t know anything!”
“Maybe not, but you’re poking around, and that bugs them.”
“So they try to kill me because they think I know something?” Carly laughed humorlessly. “I just want the truth, for heaven’s sake. I believe Londy is innocent. They want to kill me because of that?” She stood and faced Jeff with her hands on her hips.
“I’m afraid so. Jackson and Akins have to take the fall for Teresa’s murder so the investigation will be closed. Burke and Correa don’t want their operation uncovered. They make millions smuggling out stolen goods and bringing in drugs.”
“And Cinnamon? Who killed her? She was just a prostitute. What did she know?”
“When she turned up dead, Derek was my prime suspect. She was Derek’s squeeze. He used to visit her a lot, on duty.” He pounded his palm with a fist. “She might have known what he was doing, or she might have known more about Teresa’s murder; we’ll never know. I think Derek killed her more to flush me out. If they find me, I’ll be eliminated resisting arrest. This business of them publicly blaming me for the murder was meant to squeeze my wife. I hate to stay away from her, but the less she knows, the better.”
“Listen to you—‘they’ and ‘them.’” Carly tried to digest what Jeff was implying. “You say Burke and Correa wanted me dead. Who else is involved?”
“Like I said, they’ve got people in the department and people on the city council. They’re powerful; look what they’ve accomplished so far.”
“What you’re saying is outrageous. I can’t believe I believe you.” Carly held her tongue for a few moments. Derek Potter hired to kill me? She changed the subject for the sake of her sanity. “Galen Burke is in the middle of all this?”
“As far as the murders, I can only guess, but he’s no better than a common street hype. His business was in trouble because of his habit. He went to Teresa for money over and over again until she finally cut him off. I think that’s how he got involved with Correa. Galen’s business is basically Correa’s now. Somehow, their businesses and the city’s redevelopment fund are intertwined completely and illegally. I just can’t find the common thread.”
“Jeff, if you know all this and you have the thumb drive, why don’t you go to customs or the FBI or someone?”
“First off, I don’t know who to trust, and no one I know will testify against Correa because they’re afraid. Secondly, I’ve been running and hiding. I haven’t had time to check the drive out thoroughly.”
“Nick has a computer.”
Jeff shook his head. “I don’t trust him. And I don’t know what kind of encryption is on the drive and if, when I work to unravel it, bells and whistles will go off and tell them where I am.”
“You are more paranoid than Sergeant Knox.”
Finally he smiled. “If I start dyeing my hair, then I’ll worry.” The smile faded. “These people play for keeps. Teresa and Cinnamon prove that.”
“I get that.”
“I’m so sorry I got you involved. I didn’t realize until it was too late how much of a threat they considered me. I guess I also underestimated the lengths they’ll go to. My mistake caused Teresa’s death.”
Carly struggled for a moment with the implication that city officials from every department were complicit in the murder of a mayor.
“What about Darryl Jackson’s confession?”
“That was a surprise.” Jeff shook his head. “But I have a theory.
Jackson did grunt work for both Correa and Burke. I could never prove it, but I’m sure he fit into the drug trafficking somewhere. He was simply a street thug. Anyway, I think someone else killed Teresa and stashed her in the trunk. Before the body could be disposed of, Jackson boosted the car.”
“What makes you sure he didn’t do both—kill Teresa and take the car?” That would get Londy off the hook.
“No motive. Burke has all the motive. Then Jackson gets arrested and faces a murder charge that could mean the death penalty. Maybe he wants to tell stories for Burke and Correa to save his own skin. They convince him to point the finger at his buddy. They probably promised him something, maybe a lighter sentence. If I’m right, he did, after all, steal the car. If he sticks to his story, it could make the public defender try to cop a plea for the other kid, guilty or not.”
“Londy doesn’t have a PD. His mom hired a private attorney.”
“That could be worse for the kid, make him an obstacle. These people excel at removing obstacles,” Jeff said. “I’ve been here too long. Just a couple more things.”
“More to scramble my mind?”
He nodded. “If you know the kid’s lawyer, see if you can go up to juvenile hall and talk to him again. Find out what he knows about where Darryl worked. If my hunch about Darryl is right and he happened on Teresa’s car after someone else killed her, I might be able to find some physical evidence. There are ten different places at the harbor that are possible locations, and I don’t have time to look everywhere. See if the kid can narrow it down.”
Carly yawned, a yawn born of confusion and too much information being relayed at one time. “Maybe that’s a good idea,” she conceded. “If Darryl is so ready to lay out his friend, Londy should be willing to return the favor.”
Jeff nodded. “Friendship among thieves only goes so far. Look at the fact that dirty cops will try to frame other cops and even kill other cops. A crook is a crook, blue suit or jeans.” He peered out the window and looked ready to leave. After one step toward the door, he stopped. “And please be careful around Nick. If I’m wrong about him, all you’ll do is hurt his feelings. If I’m right about him, and you don’t tell him what you know, you may just stay alive.”
Accused Page 16
