ReDefined

by Michele Zurlo

  “It’s Monday morning, not the weekend. You take weekends off, not weekdays.”

  Sometimes it was useless explaining that they were always on call, that their nights and weekends were frequently spent working. They scheduled time off whenever their overtime threatened to break the department’s budget. “I was with the other witness,” Jordan supplied. “I know you made a statement, and we’ll read it later, but right now, we’d like to hear the details from you.”

  Inaccuracies in memory tended to be exposed with repeated retellings. He and Keith would analyze all versions of the story from everybody involved.

  Slightly mollified, Caldwell seated himself on one of the chairs facing Keith’s desk. Jordan took the place next to him. He pressed his fingertips together thoughtfully. “Walk us through what happened, Your Honor. What time did you leave the reception?”

  Herman Caldwell exhaled, and some of his dudgeon deflated. “Margie was getting tired. She had her hip replaced last year, and it looks like we’re going to have to get the other one replaced soon. I went to get the car so she wouldn’t have to walk all the way around the building and then across the parking lot. It was about ten o’clock, and some idiot closed the bar an hour before the reception was supposed to end.”

  Jordan refrained from chuckling. Amy had said people would leave once the bar was closed. He hadn’t doubted her, but he liked this confirmation of the depth of her understanding of human nature. He shifted, spreading his hands wide to encourage their witness. “So you left the building right after the bar closed?”

  “I’d finished my drink an hour beforehand. Margie finished her drink right after they closed the bar. I think I left to get the car at about quarter after. She stayed behind to freshen up and was to meet me out front in ten minutes. Did she raise the alarm when I didn’t come? Is that why you were out looking for me?”

  They knew better than to answer questions while a witness or victim was giving their account. Keith cleared his throat. “What route did you take to the parking lot?”

  “I turned left out of the front door. I walked around the side of the building, and when I got to the dark part just before the parking lot, that’s when they grabbed me.”

  Jordan frowned, making a mental note to check out the lights in the parking lot. Having a well-lit parking lot seemed like something Amy would insist on before choosing a venue. Also, they’d only arrested one individual. It looked like the man who’d been shot was one of the assailants. “Can you show me how you were grabbed?” He stood, intending to play the part of the bad guy.

  Keith came around the desk to play the part of the guy who got shot.

  Caldwell walked them through a reenactment that included an assessment of the body odor and breath of the perp. “He didn’t smell like alcohol, but he also hadn’t bathed or washed his clothes in a while.” He positioned Keith a few feet away. “I didn’t see you until after the guy grabbed me. He had his arm around my throat and a gun pointed at my head. The other guy came out of the shadows. He said, ‘Good job, now kill him.’ The guy holding me refused. He shook his head and said, ‘I don’t want to do this. Don’t make me do this.’ I was hoping to play on that, so I told him to resist the devil.”

  Jordan eased his hold on the judge. He didn’t want to set off a fear reaction that might derail the retelling. “What did he do next?”

  “The guy holding me threw me behind the trash bin. I hit my head against the brick on the building. I spent the night in the hospital getting x-rays and a CAT scan. I have a mild concussion.”

  Jordan didn’t follow through with throwing the judge against a wall. He let go and faced Keith. “What happened between the two guys?”

  Judge Caldwell sat back down. Though he tried to hide it, the man was shaking. “They argued, but my hearing aid had been knocked out, so I couldn’t make out what they said. And that bump on my head left me fuzzy. I heard the shots, though. I was trying to sneak away behind the trash bins, and I froze. I didn’t know what had happened. I didn’t see that the other guy had a gun. I closed my eyes and prayed. The next thing I knew, Chief Lockmeyer was there. The paramedics showed up a few minutes later. Margie can’t drive, you know. She rode to the hospital with me. My daughter picked us up at five in the morning. They wanted me to stay for observation, but I refused.”

  Mentally Jordan filled in the cracks. Amy had caused a distraction when she’d stumbled into the fracas, and neither of them had seen the judge cowering in the shadows behind the trash bins. He handed Caldwell his card. “Thanks for coming down this morning, Your Honor. We appreciate it. If you think of anything else, call me.”

  They walked the judge to reception where his daughter was waiting. Dark circles under her eyes told the story of her night. She wore sweats and an old shirt, and her blonde hair had been hastily thrown into a ponytail. She rose when she saw them.

  Caldwell patted her shoulder. “Heidi, I’d like you to meet Agents Rossetti and Monaghan. They’ll be handling the case.”

  She smiled tightly, an expression of worry and exhaustion. She shook Keith’s hand first, and then she focused on Jordan. “Chief Lockmeyer said you’d already caught the gunman.”

  “I did, but there was another person involved who had not bee located.” He handed a card to Heidi as well. “This has my cell number on it. Take your father home, and both of you get some rest.”

  As they headed back down the hall, Dustin joined them. “And here you thought you’d have the day off. I take it you and Amy didn’t have an enlightening conversation?”

  Keith chuckled. “Probably not. Kat said Amy ran away from Jordan. She wasn’t able to get details, though. One wonders what you said to make her leave like that? ‘Call me Daddy’ doesn’t sound all that threatening.”

  Jordan narrowed his eyes at Keith’s mirth. “I didn’t get a chance to say anything. I messed up, and she ran away. When I went after her to explain, that’s when it all went to shit. Then she wouldn’t talk to me last night, and this morning, her parents came over.”

  Keith wrinkled his nose. “They can be unpleasant. I’ve heard stories.”

  “They jumped to conclusions because I answered the door shirtless.” If he had his way, they would soon be the right conclusions. Nevertheless, he didn’t blame her parents for being upset. If that had happened with his daughter, he could imagine being less than polite. “But they were fine after I explained that I crashed on the sofa.” The pillow and blanket there helped corroborate his story even though it wasn’t technically true.

  Dustin shook his head. “Man, you need to talk to her.”

  Jordan agreed. “First I need to see the file on and question Brian Gartrell. I’ll straighten things out with Amy later today.”

  Keith clapped a hand on his shoulder, and Dustin made a similar move on the other side. Dustin shook his head. “Buddy, you can watch. You can even talk into our earpieces. But you cannot go in there. If you kill the only person we have who can describe our other perp, we’ve got nothing. That parking lot isn’t under video surveillance. Nothing in the area is.”

  “I won’t kill him.”

  Keith chuckled. “Right. Because he didn’t put his hands on your woman and hold a gun to her head.”

  Cold rage, the kind that had boiled in his veins last night, coursed through him. He hadn’t harmed the suspect last night, but then again, Keith and Liam had arrived soon after he’d caught up with the man.

  “Thought so.” Dustin gave him a shove toward the room where the feed from the interrogation rooms went.

  Liam Adair was inside tweaking the controls. He grinned and jerked his thumb to the chair behind his. “I saved you a seat.”

  Brandy Lockmeyer looked up from the file she was reading. “Gartrell has been sitting in there for three hours. He has a severe headache and diarrhea.”

  Those were symptoms of cocaine withdrawal. Gartrell was probably feeling like he had a really bad flu. Rossetti and Brandt would play upon his discomfort during questioning
. He took the seat on the other side of Brandy and opened the file she gave him.

  She touched his forearm gently. “Jordan, it was my order to keep you out of there. I know how emotional you dominant types get over your women, and we can’t afford any missteps with this. A Federal judge was assaulted last night. Caldwell is a highly respected and influential person.”

  “I know. I get it. I’m calm.” At her snort, he looked up from the file he hadn’t yet started reading. He scowled at the shrewd knowledge in those green eyes. They’d been through a lot together, and she knew him better than most of his friends. When she didn’t let up, he sighed and let the tension drain from his shoulders. “I’m fine.”

  “After Rossetti and Brandt wrap this up, I want you to take the rest of the day off.”

  “Can’t. I have to go get Amy and bring her here to give her statement.”

  Brandy tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “We have your statement, Judge Caldwell’s statement, and now we’re getting Gartrell’s. Amy’s statement can wait until tomorrow. She probably saw less than you did.”

  Amy wasn’t trained to assess a situation the way he was. She’d likely focused on the immediate danger to herself, and then when that had passed, she’d focused on his needs. Without needing to be told, she’d assured him that she was all right, and then she’d headed into the reception hall to alert the other agents. “Fine. I’ll let her know.”

  Keith and Dustin entered the interrogation room while Jordan watched on the monitor. The pair had a presence that, even on camera, made them seem larger and more prominent than the sweating man sitting with his head in his hands.

  Dustin set a water bottle and a small paper cup on the table as he took his seat next to Keith. “Headache? I brought some extra-strength Tylenol.”

  “They already gave me some.” Gartrell rocked back and forth. “I’m a dead man anyway. The pain doesn’t matter. I feel like I’m gonna throw up again.”

  Keith maintained the stoic expression for which he was known. “Why are you a dead man?”

  Gartrell squeezed his head between his hands, and then he reversed direction, pulling what remained of his hair. “I messed up. They’re not going to let this go. I’m dead. The judge is dead. The girl in the dress is dead. And the guy who arrested me is dead.”

  Dustin leaned forward, frowning doubtfully. “Are you making threats?”

  Gartrell rocked again, and this time he shook his head violently. “All for some rocks. I could have gone out and looked for a new job. I wouldn’t have lost my wife or my kid, and I wouldn’t be here now. Why? Why? All for some fucking crack!”

  “Brian, walk us through what happened. We may be able to help.” Dustin pushed the water and Tylenol closer. “Drink some water. You have to keep hydrated. It’ll help with the detox symptoms.”

  Gartrell downed the pills with a long swig of water. This was the first time he looked up so the camera could see his face. “I don’t deserve this.” He set the half empty bottle down. “I don’t deserve to live. I deserve what’s coming to me. But that judge don’t. That poor woman don’t, and that cop don’t.”

  Keith nodded thoughtfully. “What were you doing at that reception hall in the first place?”

  Jordan started as he remembered Gartrell’s face. He grabbed the microphone from Dare. “Dustin, Gartrell is one of the homeless guys who has been crashing in that Mexican restaurant church.”

  Though Brandt didn’t openly acknowledge Jordan, his blue eyes flashed with recognition.

  But Gartrell was talking. “They said I had to do it. At first it was just robbing a few places, and then that kid died. I never shot no one who was innocent before, and I didn’t like it. It was an accident, and I was sorry, and I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want him to die, but he did, and now they want more. I didn’t want to do it, but they got me. They own my ass. I was going to give myself up, but they know where my ex-wife and daughter are. They’re going to kill my daughter. I done enough to her with being a shitty dad. All I got left is protecting her, and I’m going to do it.”

  Dustin let silence fill the room after Gartrell stopped to take a breath and drain the rest of the water. Then he clasped his hands together. “What is your affiliation with the New Day Church?”

  Gartrell blinked. “It ain’t a fucking church. It’s where they get you by the balls and make you their bitch.” He looked around, and then he started trembling. He put his head in his hands and rocked back and forth. “Dead. We’re all dead. Joe don’t like no one seeing his face.”

  “Joe who?” Keith frowned, a severe expression that struck fear into the hearts of many, but Gartrell wasn’t paying attention.

  “Don’t know his name. I call him Joe because he don’t tell us his name. I had to shoot him because he was going to kill the judge. He tried to take the gun. I wish I’d let him have it. He’d-a shot the judge and me, and we’d both be dead, and I wouldn’t be here waiting to die.” Suddenly he shot forward, trying to leap across the table, but the handcuffs only let him move so far. He crashed to the table, falling flat on his face. “Make sure he don’t kill my wife and daughter. They ain’t done nothing bad but give me a chance.”

  Keith and Dustin stared. They’d both shot to their feet when Gartrell had leaped. Keith grabbed Gartrell by the collar and lifted him. The man flopped around, dead weight. “He passed out.” He shook Gartrell and slapped his cheek lightly. “Wake up, Brian. It’s not nap time yet.”

  Gartrell, however, didn’t respond.

  Keith pried open Gartrell’s eyelid and checked for signs of other problems. “He’s completely out of it.”

  “I guess we’re done for now.” Dustin headed for the door. “Leave him here. Nobody’s going to carry him to the holding tank.”

  As his fellow agents exited the interview room, Jordan turned to Liam and Brandy in the monitoring room. “That was Tylenol, right?”

  Dare shrugged, more an indication of not caring than not knowing.

  Frown lines creased Brandy’s chin. “As far as I know.” She went to the door and called out. “Rossetti, Brandt, get in here.”

  Keith and Dustin entered wearing matching frowns. “Has he been awake all night?”

  Dare pulled up a digital log of Gartell’s activities since he’d arrived late last night. “He spent the night curled up on his cot. He may or may not have slept.”

  Dustin motioned toward the file in Jordan’s hand. “Double check the drug test. Maybe he’s on more than just cocaine.”

  “His pupils weren’t dilated, and they were responsive to light.” Keith looked at the slumbering man on the monitor. “Run his blood work and another drug test.”

  Jordan looked over the test that had already been done. “Just cocaine. No alcohol or anything else. You’re sure that was Tylenol?”

  “I took it from the break room.” Dustin rushed out the door as he said it. Cocaine withdrawal shouldn’t have induced the kind of reaction Gartrell was having.

  Brandy shot orders at each of them. “Monaghan, call the paramedics, and see if anybody else has taken anything from that bottle. Rossetti, get forensics and run every test you can think of in that room and in his cell. Adair, check all the surveillance footage in this building for the last forty-eight hours.” She continued as she ran down the hall after Dustin. “Forsythe, I want tests run on everything in that room. Hardy, seal off the break room. Brandt, get everybody into the briefing room—now.”

  The break room would be the best place to carry out his task. He rushed there and called the group to order to ask his questions, though he didn’t think there was anything wrong with the Tylenol. Not enough time had passed between Gartrell taking the pill and him passing out for there to be a connection. Once he ascertained that the agents were fine, he surveyed the support staff. Two administrative assistants had taken pills, so he sent them with medics for testing.

  While the hustle and bustle was happening, Jordan slipped into the interrogation room. He found Sydney and
Jack from forensics. “Where is the prisoner?”

  Sydney waved him away. “Medics took him in a body bag.”

  Jordan got out before they could rail at him for breathing on their possible crime scene. He intercepted Keith coming down the hall. “Where is Gartrell?”

  “He died. The coroner is suiting up right now for the autopsy.”

  Jordan stared at Keith, a thousand possibilities running through his mind. He had to find Dustin. “Where’s Brandt?”

  “Lockmeyer pulled him from the investigation until he’s cleared. He’s in her office.” Keith grabbed him before he could storm into Brandy’s office. “Do this by the book, Monaghan.”

  “Fine. I’ll help Dare go through the surveillance footage.”

  Keith nodded. “That’s where I’m headed now.”

  When an intern came by for their dinner order, Jordan realized he hadn’t called Amy. He excused himself. “Hey, babe. Something came up, and I’m not going to make it back to get you today. Lockmeyer rescheduled you for tomorrow.” His eyeballs felt like glue from staring at monitors, searching for something to clear one of his closest friends.

  “That’s okay.” Amy’s neutral tone raised a red flag. “I don’t need my car until the morning anyway.”

  “I’ll have someone bring it back by seven.”

  “Okay. Thanks. Have a good night.”

  “Amy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “We’re going to discuss this.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. Listen, my parents are still here. We’re about to have dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Jordan stared at his phone. She’d been polite and considerate. He could understand if she’d been angry or disappointed—she had every right to both emotions. The lack of reaction bothered him, but he couldn’t dwell on it now. When he returned to Dare’s computer lab, he found both Keith and Liam on the phone.

  “I’ll be home in an hour, Kitty Kat. I love you.” Keith pocketed his phone and regarded Jordan solemnly. “Dustin went home a few hours ago.”

  “I know. I’m going to call him after I talk to Brandy.”