by Robin Mahle
Ward followed him inside. “Yes, it will. That’s why this couldn’t wait. I have to know for sure.”
“Then we’d best go find out.” The doctor continued into the corridor, flipping on the lights as they walked through. Eventually, he approached the room where Chloe was still being kept on ice. “The autopsy hasn’t been performed yet, but I can draw additional blood and test for the presence of the pregnancy hormone until such time as I can complete the autopsy and take a look.”
“How long do you think it will take to get the results back?” Ward asked.
“On a pregnancy test? Minutes. We’re going to find out right now.” The doctor pulled Chloe from her steel cabinet and folded down the sheet to her chest. With a careful touch, he exposed her right arm and drew the blood.
“So, even after her death, you’d still be able to detect the hormone?”
“Absolutely. I could also perform an ultrasound, but if this girl was pregnant, God forbid, she wasn’t far along and probably not far enough along to see anything inside. So we’ll go this route first.” He began to draw the blood and turned back to Ward. “How did you discover this news?”
“We found a cell phone and she told someone she was pregnant. That someone is now dead.”
“Justin Rehnquist. The young man you brought in earlier?”
“That’s right. They’re linked.”
“So, would he be the father?” the doctor asked.
“I don’t know, but I doubt it. Unfortunately, I think it may be a little more insidious than that. I think this girl was caught up with what we think could be the mafia.”
“Well, that’s not something we see every day here in Owensville.”
“No, sir. It is not,” Ward replied.
The doctor withdrew the vial and started toward the back room, where it would be tested. “Let’s see what she’ll show us.”
Ward followed him inside the small lab. “I really should consider spending more time with you. These are things I should probably learn.”
“It’s not like we have a daily or even monthly need for such things. But that appears to be changing.” He began to test the sample. “This shouldn’t take long. I wouldn’t mind a coffee from the machine if you’d like to grab some for us?”
“After dragging you down here at one in the morning, it’s the least I can do.” Ward stepped into the hall toward the coffee machine. It was usually horrible stuff that came out of these machines, but it would help keep him awake.
Upon his return, he held two paper cups in his hands. “Here you go.”
“Just set it over there if you would.” The doctor observed the results. “I’m sorry to say, Captain, but Chloe Dawson was indeed pregnant. And given these increased levels of the HCG hormone, I’d say she was roughly four weeks at time of death. Not enough to see on autopsy, but enough to pick up in the bloodwork.”
“Damn. This wasn’t the conclusion I was looking for, Doc. Now we’re dealing with three murders. And I don’t have a clue who’s responsible.”
Smoke from his cigarette drifted into the night sky as Blake stood on the balcony of the apartment where they were holed up until morning. He considered what Jacob had said, wondered if he’d been lied to; not by Jacob, but by the man running the show, which, for him, was Virgil Howard. It was he who convinced Blake that Jacob could draw Hammond out of the woodwork, or had it been a ruse? To what end, he didn’t know. But his girlfriend was dead and now he believed she was pregnant, a troubling revelation that made Blake feel queasy at the mere thought of it.
But the question remained, who killed her? Why? Now that these ideas swirled in his head, he couldn’t think clearly. All he could see was Chloe with a swollen belly, not the girl who now lay in a morgue, concrete still stuck to her body and inside her mouth. So how could he get to the truth? Morning was only a few hours away, when they would head to the plant to destroy any remaining evidence and to find Jacob—and kill him. But not before doing what it took to get him to talk about Hammond. Blake didn’t know what was more important to Virgil: getting revenge for Costa’s death or finding George Hammond. Right now, he didn’t care. Right now, he was feeling more certain that Hammond had played a role in Chloe’s death. Jacob was onto something. The two had met. And Howard didn’t know about Chloe. Yeah, it was starting to look like Hammond did the deed. Now Blake had to take matters into his own hands and find him and it had to be before Virgil did. Because once that happened, there might not be anything left of him to answer the questions Blake had. And there was only one person he could turn to.
He pressed the end of his cigarette onto the wrought-iron bars of the balcony. He turned and peered inside, where a couple of the men were still awake and playing video games. But not Virgil; he’d gone to bed. The time for him to break away was now.
He walked inside and looked at the men who hadn’t noticed his return. “I’m going to get some food. I’m starving. You guys want anything?” When they didn’t reply, Blake grabbed his car keys and walked out the door.
Getting to Kelly Hammond, George’s wife, was the first step. Jacob had tried but was unsuccessful. But that was because he didn’t know what George was involved with; Blake knew all too well. This would work to his advantage when it came to Kelly. She wouldn’t want to pay for her husband’s mistakes. It was unclear if she’d been approached by Virgil Howard. In fact, it seemed strange to Blake that she wouldn’t have been at the top of the list when it came to tracking down her husband. Perhaps she had been confronted before Blake was dragged into this when George disappeared. And then of course, he turned tail and pointed directly at Jacob. Something he now regretted. This entire thing was so screwed up. Chloe was gone. That stupid friend of hers was gone. Blake no longer knew where he stood or with whom.
It was a thirty-minute drive that would put Blake at Kelly Hammond’s house at roughly 2am. The children would be asleep and so would she. And Blake wasn’t a monster. He would do everything in his power not to disturb or frighten those kids. All he wanted was to know where George was and if he had anything to do with Chloe’s death. And if she didn’t offer information, then he would revise his technique. He had options—she didn’t.
He contemplated his plan of action and carefully considered the words he would use to get his point across. And, he had a gun, if necessary, to reinforce his point.
On arrival to the gated home, Blake pressed the intercom button. No answer. He tried again, this time, pressing the button longer. She was there. She had no place else to go. Finally, a groggy tone sounded through the speakers. “Blake? What are you doing here? It’s two in the morning.”
Blake eyed the security camera mounted on the gate’s column. “We need to talk, Kelly. Please. It’s important.”
“I already told Jacob I don’t know where George is. You need to leave, Blake.”
“Not until we talk. Kelly, I know about Chloe Dawson. And I bet you do too.” He waited to see if she would take the bait.
The gates started to swing open and Blake returned to his car, pulling inside the circular driveway until he reached the front of the home. As he stepped out, Kelly opened the door, wrapped in a long bathrobe with her arms folded and an expression that suggested she knew exactly who Chloe was.
“I’m sorry it’s so late, but I had to see you.” Blake approached her.
Without a word, Kelly stepped aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. “Let’s go into the study to talk. I don’t want to wake the kids.”
Blake followed her into a grand room lined with cherry bookcases and a large, ornate desk. A small seating area fronted the fireplace and he followed her to one of the chairs.
“Can I get you a coffee or water?”
“No, thank you. I need to ask you something important and I need you to be honest with me.” At this, he pulled open his jacket just enough to reveal his sidearm.
She eyed it but didn’t seem distressed by the reveal. “Like I said, I don’t know where he is. Jake came b
y looking for him and I told him the same thing—after he hopped my fence, of course. I don’t know where that son of a bitch went. He cleaned out our accounts and he’s gone. No note. No text. Nothing. I haven’t told the kids yet. I don’t know how to.”
Blake sat down on the chair. “Kelly, I have to know, were you aware if George was seeing a girl named Chloe Dawson?”
“No, I wasn’t aware, but it sounds like you are. Care to let me in on the secret?”
He hadn’t expected that response. He regarded her with concern and believed she could be lying. “It would be helpful for you to be honest with me. You know the people George worked with. The people George has pissed off by deserting.”
“Oh, I have a feeling it’s all part of the game. I knew what he was up to. He’s been working with those people for too long not to be noticed.” She looked around. “I mean, do you really think the owner of a small architecture firm could acquire a place like this? You’re not stupid, Blake.”
“Where is he, Kelly? You have to know because I don’t believe he would’ve left you and the kids without warning. Especially to deal with the likes of Virgil Howard. He loved you.”
She laughed. “Really? He had a funny way of showing it. I don’t know where he is, Blake. I’m not sure how many different ways I can say the same thing. And as far as this woman you’re asking about, I wouldn’t put it past him to have an affair. But if he was, I was in the dark about it. Just as you are about his whereabouts. Just as we all are.”
Blake reached into his jacket and pulled his weapon. “Please don’t make me do this, Kelly. It’s not what I want.”
She eyed the gun and a hint of fear flashed in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Blake. I don’t know. You have to believe me.”
He shook his head. “You know what, Kelly? I don’t. I think you know a lot. And it’s time you fessed up. I’m pretty sure your kids would be lost without their father—and mother.”
The captain returned to the station and tracked down Riley, who was still with Moody.
“You’re back.” Riley pushed from the desk where she sat with the lieutenant. “Well?”
“It was positive. Chloe Dawson was pregnant, about four weeks, according to the blood test.”
“Christ.” Moody appeared as disheartened by the news as Riley had been. “So now we’ve got a multiple homicide on our hands and that doesn’t include the Rehnquist boy.”
“Appears so,” Ward replied. “Please tell me you two got somewhere with Rehnquist’s phone.”
“I sent my guy the numbers. We’re still waiting on a response. He said it would take a couple of hours,” Moody replied.
“We don’t have a couple of hours.”
“Captain, this isn’t something we have control over, not this time.” Riley turned to Moody. “But once we get the intel, it should open this up for us, right?”
“It’ll tell us who this kid was talking to and what part he played in the death of that girl, and her unborn child, if any.”
Riley, of course, had some idea. She’d seen it, but explaining that to Moody wasn’t something she could do. It would have to be proven and that was what they were waiting for now.
“Riley, can I have a quick word?” Ward asked.
“Sure. You’ll excuse us, Lieutenant?” Riley followed Ward back to his office. “What’s wrong?”
Ward closed his door. “Any word from Jacob about this Blake Rhodes situation?”
“No, he’s still waiting. He’s getting antsy, though.”
“We all are. What we know now changes things. We have no real leads on this girl’s death, except for what you saw, and we can’t use that.”
“Especially since I don’t recognize the woman or the man who killed Justin. I feel completely useless right now.”
“Don’t. If it weren’t for what you’ve discovered so far, we wouldn’t know about Chloe’s baby. But I need you to remember that Moody can’t get suspicious. You have to watch what you say around him.”
“I know…” Riley swung around as Moody rushed inside.
“We’ve got a name. Come quick.” Moody led the way to the workstation and turned the monitor so they could see it.
Riley stood behind him and peered at the screen. “Wait. What the hell is this?”
“What’d you all find?” Abrams moseyed over.
“And your guy is certain this is who was in contact with Rehnquist?” Ward asked.
“Pretty damn certain.” Moody eyed the two of them. “So do we go after Hammond’s wife now or wait until morning?”
23
The clock on the satellite TV box in Carl’s apartment flashed 12:00. The red glare hadn’t prevented Carl from drifting off to sleep in his recliner, however, it forced Jacob to continually check his phone for the actual time. His anticipation was palpable while he waited for news from Riley.
It was past two in the morning and no word from Blake. Jacob wondered if he’d planted the idea well enough to lure his colleague into turning against Howard and spilling the beans on their entire operation.
Jacob pushed off the side chair quietly in an effort not to disturb Carl. The time had come for him to take action. He was going to have to steal the old man’s car. Perhaps “steal” wasn’t the right word in this instance. “Borrow” might be better suited and sounded far less devious.
He walked to the kitchenette and grabbed the car keys from a bowl on the counter before slipping out the door and locking it behind him. The old car was inside the storage unit where Riley left it and that was where Jacob was headed.
In the alleyway, he raised the storage unit’s door. The old beast waited, ready to be put back into action. Jacob slipped into the driver’s seat and keyed the ignition. Adjusting the rear-view, he peered into the alleyway, knowing the narrow garage left little room for error. He reversed the green monster out, getting clear of the storage unit and closing the door behind him.
The town was asleep as Jacob rolled along the streets with no clue as to a destination. Perhaps he should have laid out a better plan. “Blake,” Jacob said. He was going to have to make contact and determine if in fact he’d swayed his former partner enough to take action. With his cell phone in hand, he texted Blake and waited for a reply.
A brief reply came and read, “at Hammond’s home.”
It turned out, Jacob had been able to plant enough doubt to force Blake’s hand. Only this hadn’t been the desired outcome. Jacob eyed the road ahead, illuminated by the yellow lights of the old Lincoln, feeling just as impotent as he had sitting in Carl’s home for the elderly. And then she called. “Riley,” he answered the line. “I was wondering when you were going to call. What’s happening?”
“Looks like Moody’s an ally after all,” Riley said.
“What’s that?”
“I’ll explain later. Suffice it to say that Moody’s decided to put his resources to better use. He found a name associated with a cell number that appeared on Justin’s burner multiple times. Jacob, the number belongs to Kelly Hammond.”
“George’s wife knew Rehnquist?”
“She knew him, very well, in fact. Moody retrieved her social media information and found a picture of her. She’s the woman I saw at the plant with Justin. She’s the one who convinced him to bring Chloe there.”
Jacob slowed to a crawl on the road, stunned by the revelation. “Oh my God.”
“He made the call to Captain Pryce to relay the news, figuring he was going to be reprimanded for going against orders, so he was surprised instead when Pryce said he was going to bring in Mrs. Hammond for questioning,” Riley continued.
Jacob immediately thought of Blake. “Um, Riley, there’s something you should know.”
“Yeah?”
“Blake Rhodes is with Kelly Hammond right now. You remember what we talked about earlier? Well, turns out I was able to convince Blake that he should consider the idea George was behind Chloe’s death and that was the real reason he fled with the money. And if he had any w
ay of knowing how to draw George out of hiding, then he needed to do so.”
“He’s there? Right now?”
“Yes.”
“And Pryce’s team will be there within minutes, I imagine,” Riley added.
“What does this mean for Blake?”
“Jacob, he’s going to be arrested. He’s part of the group. Pryce is after these guys, like, hard after them. I don’t know how far he’ll go. My guess is, pretty damn far.”
“Should I warn Blake?”
“That depends. He’s involved in this. He was the one who helped to frame you. Do you want to see him free or pay for leading Virgil Howard to your girlfriend, and to you?”
Jacob considered her question. Blake had deceived him already and had almost cost his life and Rachel’s. Regardless of what George had done, did Blake deserve a get-out-of-jail-free card?
“Well?” Riley asked.
“If he gets arrested along with Hammond’s wife, we might never find George. He’ll always be out there and I’ll always be looking over my shoulder.”
“The good news is, if Blake or Kelly Hammond know where George is, they’ll use that information as a bargaining chip. Pryce will get George Hammond one way or another. Blake doesn’t deserve to get out of this, no matter that he suddenly found a conscience because his girlfriend and possibly his child were found murdered. We’ll get justice for Chloe. Blake can go to hell, for all I care.”
Jacob was silent while he pondered her reasoning.
“Where are you right now, Jacob? Please tell me you’re still with Carl?”
He broke his silence. “I can’t do that.”
“Jacob.”
He heard the disappointment in her voice. It was the same disappointment he’d heard years ago when he decided to leave Owensville. “I couldn’t stay there. I thought if I could just figure out what Blake had planned, maybe meet up with him if he’d been able to get a line on Hammond, then I could track him down.”
