RUN FASTER: A Hallie James Mystery (The Hallie James Mysteries Book 2)

by DK Herman

  Ben was on a run to Brew's for more coffee. I hoped he didn't come back with another bag of sweets.

  He'd just returned with three cups of coffee and a paper bag of mini éclairs when Jessie came out of her office crying.

  "Jess, what's the matter?" I asked while Ben led her to the couch in my office.

  "They're trying to arrest Andy," she sobbed. "The drugs he found in that guy’s car, he locked them up in the evidence locker before he went home last night. But they were gone this morning!" Jessie wiped her eyes. "Nobody saw him put them in the locker. Some detective has been questioning him since nine this morning. You know, the mean asshole."

  "Kasey," I said. He is a mean asshole and over time, he'd turned extremely cynical and self-serving. A few months ago, he’d tried to lock me up on murder charges.

  "Yeah, him. He won't let Andy leave or talk to me. I have to find him a good lawyer." Jessie stopped crying and stood up. "Who's the best lawyer around, who's not afraid of Kasey?"

  I told her to call Karl Beyer. A half hour later, Karl was on his way to the police station.

  I had one more appointment before I could go home. Since Jessie was busy, and Linda had off today, I waited in the reception area for my client. It was quiet without Linda and Poppy. Poppy was spending time with her family. They were all having supper at my house later.

  My client showed up promptly. It was another infidelity case. This time a wife was convinced that her husband was doing the babysitter. Instead of a lamp, she went home with a special teddy bear.

  I was ready to go home. Jessie left a note that she had to leave. So, Ben and I locked up, and he walked me to my car.

  "What time are we surveilling the drunken shithead?" Ben asked.

  "The mother said, he starts drinking in the afternoon and goes home by nine. So, I'll meet you in the office at eight. We'll meet Harry here too, and grab some equipment out of the storeroom." I climbed into my car and watched Ben go into the door to his apartment.

  It was almost noon when I pulled into my driveway. Poppy and Woody's fifteen-year-old Blazer was parked next to Aunt Jeannie's SUV. As I opened the front door, I could hear laughter inside the house.

  Buddy and Princess ran to greet me, which meant Rupert must be shut inside Gram's rooms. I squatted down to get some kisses.

  "Hey, Hallie. Look who's here," Poppy said, beaming at her mother.

  "Hi, Laura," I said. "How've you been?"

  "Terrific, except for not being invited to my only daughter's wedding," she replied, giving Poppy a playful spank. Laura Ruhl was short, thin, and dark haired, just like her waifish daughter.

  "I said I was sorry, Mom." Poppy put her arm around her mother. "We didn't have any time before Woody started the winter semester. We went to a JP's office, and I recorded it on my phone for you."

  "That's not even close to what I've always dreamed of for you." Laura returned her daughter's hug. "But, I know you love Woody. If your happy, so am I."

  "Oh good. Hallie, your home." Aunt Jeannie came out of the living room and into the hall. "Lunch is ready, everyone come into the dining room."

  Gram, George, Woody, and Jack were already seated at the table. Gram patted my arm as I passed by. George gave me a little finger wave and grinned happily. It was obvious they were pleased to have so many loved ones gathered around the table.

  Jack greeted me warmly too. "Nice to see you again, Hallie." Even his eyes smiled at me through thick, metal framed glasses. Jack is of average height and carried a few extra pounds. His dark hair was thinning on top, but he made no attempt to hide it. He possessed an openness and self-confidence that makes him seem more attractive.

  I smiled back. "Nice to see you, Jack. My eyes went to Liv, who'd just pushed her cart into the room. All three shelves were loaded with food. There was a platter of turkey, and ham salad sandwiches on thick slices of Liv's homemade bread. Next, a platter of sweet potato fries and a huge bowl of green salad was passed down the table. Italian, French, and Ranch dressing followed. And, oh my! Liv placed a chocolate, peanut butter pie on the sideboard.

  Putting a large serving of salad on my plate, I forced myself not to empty the bottle of ranch dressing on top of it. Someone else may want some. I took a half of a thick ham salad sandwich and some sweet potato fries. Then picking up my fork, I started on my salad.

  "How did things go at the office this morning?" Poppy inquired from across the table.

  "Good. We got another contract for background checks. I need to hire another computer person." I tried a sweet potato fry and found them delicious.

  "I know somebody who's looking for work," Poppy said.

  "Are they as good as you?" I asked. Poppy could be a little bit flaky, but she was a major talent in her field.

  "Rayna's even better. She graduated with me. We both tutored for extra money."

  "She is very good, Hallie," Woody added. "And a very responsible person.

  "Have her contact me on Monday." I smiled at Woody, who was holding his wife's hand. He and Poppy were a great couple. I hope they lasted forever. Speaking of great couples, I turned to Aunt Jeannie. "Have you heard from Karl?"

  "He called and said, he would be here later," Aunt Jeannie said. "Andy Ross went home. But, the man he caught with the drugs is out on bail. They couldn't make the drug possession charges stick without the evidence. He was only charged for having the gun without a permit."

  "Damn," I mumbled. Andy must be upset. He was a good cop and would never lie or take evidence. I made a mental note to call Jessie after lunch, and see how they were doing.

  After the decadent pie was eaten, I helped Liv clear the table and load the dishwasher. Then I excused myself and went to my suite. The dogs followed me.

  I lit a small fire and laid on the floor with my fur buddies. I don't know if they were attracted by the warmth of the fire or were mesmerized by the dancing flames. I enjoyed both and relaxed in the flickering warmth.

  I heard my phone ringing and realized, I must have dozed off. The caller ID said it was my office. "What the hell." Nobody should be there until Monday morning. "Hello," I answered anxiously.

  "Hallie," Jessie said, her voice shaky. "I'm trying to contact Karl Beyer, I misplaced his number at home. Andy needs him, really bad."

  "What's going on Jess?" I sat up and adjusted my shirt.

  "Andy's been arrested for murder."

  "Whose murder?" I looked at my watch. It was almost three.

  "Chet Marlowe's, he was found dead behind the police station, twenty minutes after he was released on bail"

  I found my Aunt Jeannie and Karl, sipping coffee in the sunroom. I told him what Jessie had told me.

  Karl leapt to his feet. "And Detective Kasey probably prevented him from calling me. That man has never heard of a Miranda right that he hasn't trampled on." He bent and kissed Aunt Jeannie. "I'll be back as soon as I can, darling"

  Aunt Jeannie smiled. "I'll walk you to your car."

  "Hallie, please call Jessica back. Tell her, I'm on my way to Andy, and I'll call her when I know more." Karl took Aunt Jeannie's hand, and they walked toward the hall.

  I took my phone out of my back pocket and did as Karl asked. Jessie agreed to go home and wait to hear from Karl, but she declined my offer to keep her company. Her kids were home, two girls, ages twelve and fourteen. If she could, she wanted to keep them, and her ex-husband, out of it.

  I told her to call me if she needed anything. I hung up and started when Poppy touched my shoulder.

  "What's wrong with Jessie?" She looked concerned.

  I told Poppy what I knew.

  She sat down next to me, looking dazed. "That's terrible," she said. "Jess and Andy were talking about getting married. I don't know what I'd do if I lost Woody." She closed her eyes and shook her head violently, as if she couldn't bear the thought in her mind.

  "I know Andy didn't murder anyone or lie about those drugs," I assured her. "Don't worry, the truth will come out."

  Poppy pu
t her head on my shoulder. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

  "Let's go up to my suite and snoop a little. Can you hack into the police files?"

  "Let me get my laptop," Poppy said eagerly. She was on her feet and out of the room before I could get on my feet.

  I followed her into the hall. Her laptop bag was on the hall table. She grabbed it and scampered into the living room to tell Woody, she would be upstairs with me for a while. Then we made our way to my sitting room.

  The fire was still burning low in the fireplace, and the dogs were still asleep in front of it. Poppy sat on the couch while I got us a cold drink out of my mini fridge. I folded my legs underneath me and sat next to her.

  She connected to my router and worked her magic. "Give me a minute to hide where I am," she said. "There…. now if they notice anyone snooping around in their files, they'll think I’m in China. What are we looking for?" Poppy asked.

  "Anything that mentions Chet Marlowe or Andy Ross." I watched her fingers fly over the keyboard.

  "Here's a preliminary report from the coroner," Poppy said.

  "Great, let's start there." I leaned towards the screen and began reading.

  The deceased was identified as Chet Marlowe, forty-one years old, from New York City. He was Caucasian with brown hair and eyes, five foot ten, and one hundred and eighty pounds. He had several scars and tattoos. My eyes scrolled down the screen. Time of death was around noon today. The cause of death was ligature strangulation.

  There was a picture of an object, thought to be the murder weapon. It was described as a thin, three-foot length of metal wire with a short, wooden rod attached to each end.

  "What is that thing?" Poppy asked, looking at the picture. "It looks so... evil." She grimaced.

  "It's called a garrote. It is evil," I said. "The killer loops the wire around their victim’s neck, usually from behind, and pulls the wire tight. The wooden rods keep the wire from slipping through the killer's fingers."

  Crap, another really ugly case. If it wasn't Andy's life at stake, I'd walk away. After all, the dead guy was a dirt bag, drug dealer. But I was curious, what was his connection to Hank?

  "Good job. Is there anything about Andy?"

  "Yep, look." Poppy turned her screen toward me. "Here's the arrest record and police file."

  It wasn't good. Andy was accused of lying about the drugs, he claimed to find in Chet Marlowe's car. Detective Kasey sited jealousy of Marlowe's close relationship with his older brother, Hank Ross, as the motive. Kasey also believed, Andy became enraged when he couldn't get the charges against Marlowe to stick without evidence. He waited outside the police station for Marlowe to be released and murdered him, in an outside basement stairwell.

  That was where the body was found, around one p.m., by Herville police officer Jason Brady.

  Jason Brady was an arrogant jerk and didn't have the temperament to be a good cop. He used his mouth before engaging his brain. He once accused me of burning down a garage. Jason was working the four till midnight last evening with Andy.

  He gave a statement that when he arrived on the scene of Marlowe's arrest, Marlowe was handcuffed in the back of Andy's squad car. Andy had already begun searching the suspect’s vehicle. He also stated that later at the police station, he saw Andy walk toward the evidence room with a bag in one hand, but he couldn't be sure what it was.

  There were no outsider’s fingerprints on the evidence locker and no sign of a break in, anywhere in the building. There was trace evidence collected from the body and murder scene, sent to the lab for analysis.

  Andy was being arraigned at four o'clock on a slew of charges, including first degree murder.

  THREE

  After dinner, Jack, Woody, and Ernie, an old friend of George's, took George out for a small bachelor's party. Ernie, tall and thin with white hair, offered to be the designated driver until Jack told him that meant he couldn't drink. Then Woody got the honor.

  Gram and Laura relaxed on reclining chairs in the living room. Poppy was asleep on the living room couch. She'd been upset about Andy, so I'd given her a nip out of my bottle of tequila. Big mistake. After coughing and choking for five minutes, she got all giggly before telling me she had to lay down.

  Settling her on the living room couch, I checked to make sure she was lying on her side. Then I went back upstairs to get ready to meet Ben and Harry Ikeler at the office.

  Brushing my teeth and hair, I put on a warm jacket with a hood. I pushed my remote starter button before saying goodnight to Gram. Laura said they were all going to spend the night, so I needn't worry about Poppy.

  I happily headed for my nice, warm car. I turned on my radio and let it scan through all the stations. My taste in music is extremely diverse. I enjoy everything from ACDC, to Glenn Miller, to Tchaikovsky. I stopped the tuner at Patsy Cline and sang along on the way to town.

  Lights were on in my agency as I pulled up and parked. I hustled inside and found the men in Ben's office.

  Smaller than my own, Ben's office held his desk, a love seat, an armchair, and a coffee table. The walls were painted cream with brown trim, and Ben had hung a poster of Jim Rockford, in a frame, near his desk.

  "Let's grab some equipment and get going," I said.

  The men got to their feet and followed me. I grabbed canisters of pepper spray for Ben and me before offering one to Harry. He declined, but grabbed a handful of zip ties.

  I grabbed three pairs of day/night vision binoculars. They were like regular binoculars, giving you 12x magnification. But at the press of a button, a green laser is activated that allows you to see in the dark up to 150 yards away. Press another button, and they'll record whatever you're seeing through them.

  I got three walkies with an ear piece and passed one to each of the men. "Channel two," I said looking at my watch. "Can either of you think of anything else we might need?"

  They shook their heads in the negative. We put in our ear pieces, and I made sure Harry had the address on our way out the door.

  Ben drove me in his truck, and Harry took his own pickup.

  The target's home was in a poorer section of town, but recently remodeled. The siding looked pale blue in the street lights, and the house number matched what I'd been given by the girl’s mother. Harry took up a post across the street, from the front of the duplex. I had Ben drive around the back and park in the alley.

  I checked my watch. It was eight-forty, time to watch and wait. I got out my binoculars and scanned first the alley, then the yard, and the back of the house. I saw no one.

  "So, what are these people's names?" Ben asked quietly.

  "The drunk is Trace Mottern. He's twenty-five and works at the recycling plant. The girl is Abby Wilson. She's nineteen and waitresses at Brasko's Diner and The Pancake Palace.

  "Why do girls put up with being hit?" Ben asked.

  "I'm not sure. But I think it's a mixture of things, fear mostly. And the bastards that abuse them, usually isolate them from friends and family. Then they destroy their self-esteem." I shut up when I heard Harry key his walkie.

  Harry's voice came through my ear piece. "I'm in place, one light is on in what looks like the living room. I've seen no movement inside."

  "10-4 Harry." I picked up my binoculars again. "Back of residence shows a kitchen/dining room through a set of patio doors. The girl is at the stove preparing food. She's a redhead, dressed in blue sweatpants and a ..."

  "10-12," Harry whispered.

  That meant I should stop talking.

  "I think our boy is a little early tonight,” Harry continued to whisper. "I'm recording a very inebriated male, staggering up the sidewalk. He's about our guys age and has long brown hair, hanging from under a ball cap. He has on a red jacket with jeans. Yep, it must be him, he just fell up the porch steps of the target residence."

  Ben and I were watching the girl in the kitchen. She must have heard her boyfriend on the front porch. She looked nervously in that direction.

 
; "He's inside the house. More lights just came on inside," Harry said.

  I started recording. "We've got him in the kitchen with her. He just sat down at the kitchen table. Abby's bringing him a plate of food and what looks like, a glass of milk."

  The asshole took one look at the plate in front of him and began yelling at the poor girl. She recoiled and burst into tears. She knew what was coming.

  I handed my binoculars to Ben and told him to keep recording, no matter what. I got out of the truck and ran toward the back of the house.

  "I'm on foot, going in closer," I said. I got to the back porch and saw the room inside explode into violence.

  The plate of food hit Abby in the face, followed by the glass of milk. When I got to the patio doors, Trace had knocked over his chair and had Abby by the hair, slamming her into a wall. He punched her twice in the face and blood ran from her nose.

  "I'm going in before he kills her," I panted. My adrenaline levels were through the roof. I whipped the sliding door open and roared, "Get the hell away from her, you son of a bitch." I stepped inside. "Come try that shit on me, asshole!"

  "Who the fuck are you?” Trace slurred. He looked confused by the crazy woman, who'd burst into his kitchen. But he'd let go of Abby, who quickly scuttled away and out the door.

  He realized Abby had escaped, so he took me up on my offer and came after me. Raising one fist, he staggered across the room. "I'll kill you, bitch. You don't come in my house, and tell me what to do!"

  I waited until he was right in front of me before taking a step, and raising my knee as hard as I could into his groin. His squeal of pain gave me a sick satisfaction, but he raised his hands again, trying to grab me.

  I took out my canister of mace, and holding it in my fist, I punched him between the eyes. He fell back, bellowing like a castrated buIl. He shook his head and blinked before coming at me again, yelling curses and threats.

  I took aim with the pepper spray, and pressed the button with my thumb. After a good five second blast, he was crying and rolling around on the floor with both hands over his face.