“It’s detective.”
“One hour, Ms. Steele.”
Grabbing two rocks from the ground, I place one on either tombstone. My gut tells me I should call this in, but I’m stubborn like that. Some things you have to face on you own, like death. No one can save you from that.
***
Children have an innocence about them I wish I could have held on to. You know just put it in a jar, letting a little bit out when needed. Relishing it over a longer period of time. Feels like it’s wasted on the ones who know nothing. The rest of us adults no longer see the joy of rolling around the grass. There’s no time, we’re stressed, children demand attention. The ability to ignore everything around you and be truly happy is lost. The park still brings some joy to my heart, though. Like a distant memory, it’s a flash and then it’s gone.
Sitting here on a park bench, I envy those children in the park. They have no idea I’m sitting here. They have no concept of violent crime. They know slides, tag and swing sets.
“This seat taken, Ms. Steele?”
I don’t bother to look at his face. I know he looks like his son the officer who tried to end my life. Just like the photos with a smug look of superiority.
“Garrison, you wanted me here. Talk.”
“It’s beautiful here, isn’t I? My son Keith used to love it here. That’s my park you know. When you killed my son, I donated the money to rebuild it in his honor.”
“Your son shot me, Mr. Garrison. I cared so little about him, I never even knew his first name.”
I can feel the older man tense next to me. This is a game of cat and mouse. The first to show weakness, loses. I would prefer a stalemate right now. I don’t trust what I would do if he cowered. I don’t trust myself not to kill him.
“We’ve both made several mistakes in our lives. I’m here simply to offer my assistance with your investigation as a truce.”
“What would you know about my investigation, Mr. Garrison?”
“Don’t play coy with me. I know you have people digging into everything attached to me. What you’ll find won’t be useful, legally speaking.”
“Money always gets people into trouble.”
“If you can put the money on the person you are in fact accusing of said crime. You and I both know money is virtually untraceable. Regardless of your friends, this conversation will get you nowhere.”
“Then what the hell are you offering me?”
“Harry Brandt or as your techs know him D.B.M.”
Taking a calming breath, I force myself to focus on the children in front of me. I knew in my gut he was connected, but to openly admit when I can’t use it in court pisses me off. He knew this when he came here. He’s one-upped me and I am forced to play his little game. I hate this shit.
“You funded his company.”
“Yes, among other things.”
“You know about his company’s designs then.”
“If you are referring to his open source programs, yes. They have been used by several individuals I do business with. Mr. Brandt has handled a lot of this for me.”
“He kill for you?”
I feel the bench shake as Garrison laughs at me. He’s calmer since he’s in control. It won’t be pretty when I flip the switch.
“Mr. Brandt is many things for me, but a murderer is not one of them. He is hired help on a contractual basis. He’s muscle, if you will.”
“What about Walter Miller?”
“An old friend with a disgusting habit.”
“You knew he was a pedophile and did nothing about it?”
“Ms. Steele, he wasn’t going to have a plaything as long as he was taking my money, using my name for fundraisers and more. I might not live up to your standards of a human being, but I do have limits. What he viewed in his private home on his own private devices was not my concern.”
Seeing the kids laughing, I wonder if he sees how false that statement was. I tire of this conversation. He’s worse than non-stick pans at this point. He has everything fall into the circumstantial world of nothingness. I stand up and straighten my jacket. I need to put distance between the two of us. He has only fortified what I already knew. Either way it doesn’t make me feel any better.
“He works freelance for others who need things handled. When Walter decided the young woman was to be his, Harry had a change of heart. He asked for my advice.”
“Kaley was raped and murdered,” I spit out at him.
He turns his head and finally looks at me. His eyes look more human in person than I hoped. I wished he looked more evil, more vile. Yet, he looked just like anyone else in this park. I prefer my version of him.
“Yes, she was before Mr. Brandt and I could handle things.”
“You had Miller killed and sold his organs online.”
He stands, looks at his watch and smiles at me. That’s the smug son of a bitch I was expecting to deal with.
“Mr. Brandt handled the situation. What he did to dispose of the evidence is of little concern to me. Now, you have your information about the person behind this hired job. I trust this will get you to calm your horses.”
“You covered up my brother’s murder. You can say whatever you want, Mr. Garrison, but this will never be over.”
“I didn’t say it was over, dear. I just said you ought to take a step back and focus on the case at hand. You won’t be able to connect me to any of it. That I promise you.”
He walks away from me and I really want to just pull out my gun and watch him fall to the ground. I feel that darkness rolling around in my gut again. I want to give in, fall into oblivion, but I have too much to fight for. Grabbing my cell phone, I dial Logan.
“Detective, how can I help you today?”
“I just had a meeting with our friendly financier. I need you to check into everything Brandt has at his disposal. Garrison threw him under the bus and I want to know why.”
“Maybe he’s just expendable.”
“Probably. Either way he couldn’t have run this entire operation on his own. He needs help. I want you to rip apart his company brick by fucking brick. And lock down all his assets. I don’t want to know how, just make it happen.”
“You got it boss.”
He hangs up on me before I can say anything more. Not like there’s anything more to add. Mr. Garrison bothered me greatly. He pushes buttons in me I swore I would never allow. Maybe Tyler’s right. Maybe I do want revenge instead of justice. Maybe I just need to invest in a Taser. That way I can make him squirm a bit. If my mother was here, she’d smack me in the back of the head. I can’t tumble down the rabbit hole.
***
The house is dark by the time I come home. I ignored everyone for a bit. I needed to just sit at the waterfront and clear my mind. There’s so much noise in the frustration, it was hard to think straight. I try to be as quiet as possible, but the damn door squeaks when the seasons shift the house comes to life. Not in a good way either. Everything has a sound depending on the season. The floor sounds creaky one season and like a groaning old man the next. It is beyond annoying. Closing the door behind me, I feel the wall for an open key hook. I lock the door but before I turn around, the light goes on illuminating the room and blinding me.
“You could have told me you’d be late.”
Turning around, I see Frankie sitting at the kitchen table, an empty whiskey bottle in the center of it. I guess this is where one would explain they were in wicked trouble. I know I am.
“What is going on?”
I open my mouth to speak but she raises her hand, abruptly cutting me off.
“I don’t want to hear about the case giving you stress. Don’t lie to me, please. I think I’ve earned the right to ask for honesty.”
She has and then some. Sitting across from her, I play with an empty shot glass on the table. Part of me wishes there was some liquor left. I’d take some just to feel it burn all the way down. To feel something other than this anger.
“
I was at the cemetery today. Before you ask, no I didn’t want to bring Chase. I needed to go alone. I still do that sometimes. Helps me.”
She stays quiet, her eyes never leaving mine. It’s a bit overwhelming at times, her gaze. It’s full of support and love. She lets me know in one look what many people search for in a lifetime.
“Irving Garrison gave me a call today.”
She sits upright, her muscles tensing. I see her mood shift, but her eyes still show no fear.
“He wanted to meet me at the park.”
“And of course you did,” she tries to hide the sarcasm but her voice betrays her.
“I know you’re upset, but you know I had to. I needed to see his face.”
“What did he want?”
“A truce. He wanted me to get off his back for a bit. In exchange he gave me information about my case.”
“He’s not going to testify in court, so you basically put yourself in harm’s way for nothing.”
“He pointed me in the right direction. He also showed his cards in a way.”
“That’s not the point, Jasmine and you know it.”
“Brandt was behind the murder of Walter Miller. Miller killed Kaley.”
“Can you prove it?”
“Brandt uses the software for a side business. Consider him the handyman of the Dark Web. It’s a very lucrative side job.”
“It explains a lot, but not enough. He already has millions.”
“Not necessarily. His money is hidden. We’re going to cut him off and see what happens. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he makes a mistake.”
“How?” she stops herself.
She knows I’ve involved Logan before I can admit it. She leans back, obviously upset with me, trying to distance herself. I reach for her hand, but she slides it just out of reach.
“Does the rest of the department know about this?”
I don’t answer, which in essence is one.
“If anything happens to him, Hadley will never forgive you. She’s just getting her life back on track. She’s been working on a new film and Logan has been a huge part of that. If he gets hurt…” she doesn’t finish.
“Kaley deserves justice.”
“The man who killed her is dead. Justice was served in spades.” Her anger is rising and I don’t know what direction this conversation is taking.
“And her little brother?”
That stops her dead. She knows I’m right. We need to finish this case so we can all move on. I can move on to bigger fish.
“You need to focus on this case and let the rest go. You have to or you’ll go crazy. I know you want to bring Garrison down, but you have to let someone else do it.”
Before I can say anymore, Frankie leaves me alone to my thoughts. She’ll calm down in time. She always does. I have to figure this all out before I lose my mind. I need to be able to focus on one case at a time. That much is true, but I need to be involved in bringing that man down. I don’t know how, but I have to be a part of it.
Chapter Nine
I have always felt that sleep, like food, was overrated. It’s a simple concept really. You eat only what you need to live and you can sleep when you die. Frankie tells me I need to change my perspective about it all and just enjoy the little things. Seriously, I’m not a foodie. I hate cooking and if it can come in shake form with all those vitamins I need, I’m good.
As I stare at the perfectly white painted ceiling, I can tell you honestly it is all a control issue. My job is one huge ball of stress and nerves. No matter how much I want to do a good job or help someone, I know eventually I’m going to fail. I have several cold cases in my drawers. Answering machine messages asking for me to open them back up. Tears and screaming children looking for their family member. Those are the worst calls. The kids don’t know any better. The parents put them up to it, but fuck if it doesn’t eat you up inside.
Hell, just walking around the city, people spit on you, call you names and taunt you. I’m not in uniform, but it’s like they have x-ray vision and can see my badge in my ass pocket. I’m one of the good ones, but it doesn’t matter. I’m evil because I carry a badge. I’m an equal opportunity victim. I’m gay and will rot in hell. I have a kid I’m raising in a sinful situation, again rotting in hell. I have a badge, I’m a murderer, bad cop supporter, whatever. Once again, rotting in hell. On a case by case basis, I have a condo in hell.
The only thing I can control is my body and mind. I focus, sometimes obsess over things too much, preventing myself from getting a good night’s rest. I have to get these cases done, help those people out. It’s part of my DNA. If I fail, I won’t eat or sleep until I do get it right. Frankie will cook, make me meals for work and whatever else she can to help. I just get so involved in what I’m doing, I forget to eat or sleep.
Just like now. Except I know my body is not far away from cracking. I might end up in my condo sooner than I’d like, but I don’t control that. Lord knows I wish I did. I wish He gave me that talent. Then again, according to many people, He doesn’t listen to me anymore. So my head asks the question, why has humanity forsaken me and my family when I have not left them? Maybe like me, they want some control in this world and I refuse to relinquish it.
The light of my cell phone illuminates the room and breaks me from my daze. Grabbing the phone, I see Logan’s name on the caller ID. I can’t count on a lot in this world. Mainly I trust humanity will always find a way to be a bitch and my team never works their fingers to the bone.
“Steele,” I whisper hoping not to wake Frankie.
“We locked down all of Mr. Brandt’s financials. Based on what you told me, I decided to put a tracker on anything D.B.M. in the dark web. I was hoping for something to pop up, maybe an order or something. Anything connecting it to Harry Brandt.”
“And?”
“Several encoded messages were posted on various boards ensuring that if an order had been placed, it will be filled. There’s more, but I think it’s best to not discuss over an unsecured line.”
“But you could tell me all of that with no problem?”
“It pertains to more sensitive materials. Hadley also told me using physical graphs or charts would assist in making things a bit more clear for you.”
Leave it to Hadley to explain my inability to program my DVR. She laughed at me once when I tried to fix the time on the damn thing. Then I realized the clocks moved forward and it automatically changed. It was like Christmas for me not to have to fix it.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I expertly slip out of bed without waking Frankie. It’s something us insomniacs are very good at due to loads of experience. Of course, getting dressed in the dark without kicking said furniture, that is something I have yet to master. Exhibit A would be my now stubbed toe and my hopping around trying to get the hell out of the room alive.
Leaning against the wall in the hallway, I see a flash of light coming from Chase’s room. He’s got to be playing video games again. I’m all for playing all hours, but he’s been doing it a lot lately. I knock on his door, but he’s got his stereo headset on. I sit on his bed, causing it to dip and him to jump a foot in the air. I point towards the television and shake my head. He turns to the screen in time to see his character get shot and die. He takes his headset off and gives me the puppy dog eyes.
“Not gonna work this time. I told you last time not to play this late.”
“Well, actually you reminded me not to let Frankie know I play this late.”
“Chase, don’t make me be the bad guy and take the system out of your room. It’s bad enough I get shit from all the other parents at your school telling me how it should be in the living room. Not to mention the ‘Chase is too young to be online. You should have parental controls on it.’ Bullshit. You’re not giving me many options here.”
“Aunt Jazz, half the kids from school allow parents to password protect the system. They all know the codes or how to hack them. We’re not dumb.”<
br />
“Yeah well I didn’t need to know that,” I slightly smile, “but it does make me feel a bit better.”
“Everyone sneaks games at night. Who do you think I’m playing right now?”
“Some random stranger who wants you to join some great new movement for independence in a third world country?”
“Funny, but no. My friends from school. We all sneak on at the same time.”
“Okay, that’s great and I appreciate you not hanging out with some creepy guys from other countries, but enough. You have two choices, I tell your Aunt Frankie and she throws a fit. She might sell or destroy your system that cost me a hell of a lot of money. Or you can stop playing when it’s bedtime. Choose wisely.”
“Come on it’s not like I’m…”
“Don’t care.”
“But maybe…”
“Not an option.”
“Fine.” He turns off the system. “I’m not happy about this.”
“I’ll talk to Frankie about allowing more game time on the weekends, okay?” He huffs and puts his headset away.
He lays back in bed, arms folded, pouting. His bottom lip stuck out ever so slightly beyond the top one. He definitely picked this up from Frankie. I don’t pout, I just give in to Frankie because if she’s happy I will get what I want eventually anyway.
“Goodnight, pouty face.”
I close the door and hear him huff one more time. I wait a few minutes until I hear his breathing even out. He must have been tired to pass out that quickly. I wonder how many days these kids have been playing late into the evening. I guess now the question is do I let the other parents know or do I keep my mouth shut? Or I tell Frankie, let her know I handled it and have her deal with it? I’ll take option number two. Anything to get me out of parental confrontations. Can’t stand those.
***
A morning without coffee is a morning that should not exist. I’m sure I’ve said this plenty of times before, but damn I need a hot beverage to wake me up. Not to mention I am entering the domain of the intelligent technology people, I need to be awake. Sadly, no decent coffee shop is open at this hour. I’m desperate, not dumb. Here’s praying that the tech guys appreciate good coffee or they explain things on a Sesame Street level. I doubt my brain could handle more of the techno-babble.
Melting Steele Page 13
