Burn in Hell: A Jake Carrington Mystery (Volume 2) (Jake Carrington Mysteries)

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Burn in Hell: A Jake Carrington Mystery (Volume 2) (Jake Carrington Mysteries) Page 25

by Marian Lanouette


  A phone started ringing. Jake looked around to see which one it was. The office and his cell both had similar rings. Noting the out-of-town area code on his cell, Jake answered immediately.

  He didn’t even get a chance to greet the caller. “Jake, Sergeant MacDermid here. We’ve found a witness who saw Stack leaving a bar on Route 16.”

  “Excellent. Didn’t we conduct interviews at all the bars this afternoon?” Jake held up a hand as Detective Green walked into his office. Shit, I should learn to close my door. Jake listened to MacDermid, taking notes, then paused, tapping his pencil on the desk.

  “I’ll be there in about fifty minutes depending on traffic.” Jake hung up, turned to Green.

  “What’s up?”

  “New leads on Stack?”

  “Yeah. Close the door.” After reading Detective Green’s jacket, Jake decided to use him in the investigation. He liked clean cops.

  “I don’t want this to get around. Trooper Sergeant MacDermid found a witness putting Stack at a bar around noon.”

  “You’re not going to tell the other guys?”

  “Nope. I’m sharing with you because I’m going to make you the lead detective with me on this. You’ll be the only one privy to any information I have until I deem it necessary to share with the rest of the department. Understood?”

  “Yes…I mean no, you don’t think someone in this department killed him, do you?”

  Definitely not stupid. “No, this is how we run a homicide investigation, Green. It’s on a need-to-know basis only, and the witness doesn’t want to be identified. She’s scared.” Jake thought he’d call Louie later to explain why he was using Green instead of him here. He was sure Louie wouldn’t mind. At least he hoped he wouldn’t mind.

  Green nodded.

  “Okay, Joe, go grab your jacket, and let’s head out.”

  Traffic was light. They made it to the store where the witness worked in forty-five minutes. Green said little while they drove. Every now and then Jake would look over at him. Green’s face was a study in concentration. Had he made the right decision, using Green on this case, or was he too close to the victim? Jake hated when he second-guessed himself. As they pulled into the parking lot, Green spoke for the first time.

  “You never answered my question before. You believe Stack was dirty?”

  Jake looked over at Green, made direct eye contact, and decided to take a chance. “Yes.”

  “Jesus.” Green wiped his brow.

  “If you’re not comfortable working the investigation let me know, because you’ll take heat if he is, I mean was, and we expose it.”

  “I can take the heat. I hate dirty cops,” Green spit out. “I will tell you, he was weird.”

  “How so?”

  “Never wanted to work with anyone. Every now and then he’d get a phone call. He’d tell the caller he was busy, hang up, and leave the squad room to go outside the building and get on his cellphone. It always made me curious.” Green scratched his head.

  I made the right choice, a good cop with good instincts. “Could be I’m wrong. His last case file just isn’t gelling for me.”

  “How so?”

  Jake ran through the Church case with Green, waiting patiently for his comments. After a long period of silence, Jake asked, “Well?”

  “He certainly didn’t follow procedure. That in and of itself doesn’t mean much, but I can’t fathom why he didn’t interview any of the neighbors or process the scene properly. My first question would be why? He was a solid investigator. I guess there’s only one answer there…he didn’t want it solved. Right?”

  “That’s my take.”

  Jake climbed out of the car, waited for Green to join him. Together they approached a shop named Treasured Things and walked in. The bell overhead rang. A petite woman with jet black hair stood behind the cash register. Jake put her at around fifty. He looked around for Trooper Sergeant MacDermid. He hadn’t arrived yet. He dialed MacDermid’s cell. He answered on the second ring.

  “Cale, its Jake Carrington, we’re at the store. Do you want us to wait for you?”

  “No, I already interviewed her and sent you my notes. I thought you’d want a shot at her alone. Her name’s Emily Swisher.”

  Okay, Jake thought, the sergeant kept him in the loop, but delayed the information. Jake didn’t begrudge him. He would’ve played it the same way.

  “Thanks, Cale.”

  Jake interviewed the clerk, who turned out to be the owner of the store. What brought Stack to her attention? Raised her suspicions? Stack parked toward the street at the end of the parking lot, although many spaces were available in front of the bar. After a few minutes of watching him, he pulled out of the parking lot. She walked out to throw the garbage away and noticed his vehicle out back minutes later. In her mind he was casing the place—her words—and she planned to call the police. As she reached for her cellphone he pulled out, so she went back inside. A customer distracted her when she re-entered her store and Stack was forgotten until she heard about the accident.

  “You see, Lieutenant, that’s all I know. I feel bad he died. Maybe I could’ve saved him if I’d called. He wasn’t acting right.”

  “Did you see him actually enter the bar?”

  “No sir, I didn’t. I never saw him again.”

  “Were there any other cars out back you didn’t recognize?”

  “No, Lieutenant.”

  “Thanks for your time, Mrs. Swisher.”

  “It’s Miss, Lieutenant.” She gave him a full smile while she patted her hair.

  Floored, Jake couldn’t believe the woman was flirting with him. He gave her a tight smile and walked out of the store with Green. “Not a word, Detective. Understood?”

  Jake detected a smile behind Green’s hand but let it go. Green answered, “Yes, sir.”

  “What did you learn, Green?”

  “That Stack was nervous about his meeting, and he didn’t trust whoever he was meeting.”

  Jake nodded at him. Good, Green was quick. He climbed in the car, waited for Green to do the same. “Why here?”

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  “Call me Jake. I said why here? What significance does this place hold? Green, sorry Joe, do you prefer Green or Joe?”

  “Either works, Lieu…Jake. You want me to run the place, see who owns it?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  Green pulled out his laptop and started the search. Jake pulled out of the parking lot, headed back to Wilkesbury. By the time they reached Wilkesbury, Green had the data on his laptop that Jake requested. He like how efficiently Green did his job.

  “It’s owned by a holding company, called Limited Holding, LLC.”

  “Run it deeper. I want to know who the principals are,” Jake said. “Also…”

  Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, thinking, he added, “Run all businesses that are held by that company. Let’s see how deep their pockets are.”

  In the lobby of the station they broke off and headed in different directions. Jake headed to Homicide. Green headed over to Missing Persons. Jake rubbed his temples. The low-grade headache he’d been fighting off all day intensified when he got a load of the pile of paperwork on the desk, waiting for his attention. The hours in the day didn’t triple, only his work load did. It was well after five when he checked his watch. He cursed and called Kyra.

  “Kyra, I need to push back our dinner, maybe eight-thirty, is that good with you?”

  “If you need to cancel, that’s okay, Jake.” Not getting out of it this time, Kyra, he thought.

  “No, I’m only going to be late. Plus, we need to talk.”

  Little did he know that it wasn’t going to happen again tonight.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  It would’ve been nice if Jake cancelled our plans for tonight. He’d been trying to have this talk with her for the last several weeks now. You don’t have to talk to him, Kyra. Who died and left him boss? What a stupid thought. Oh, grow up. Imitati
ng a television gangster in her head, she thought, I don’t wanna talk—I don’t talk, it’s as simple as that. What’s the worst that could happen? You don’t get your week’s worth of sex from him before he drops you for another woman? Big deal. It is a big deal. I love him and I want every minute I can get with him. She wanted the connection to him and wasn’t that pathetic? Could she still make love to him knowing he was dumping her? The argument played out in her head—it was a no-win situation.

  Jake arrived with dinner closer to eight-thirty than eight, and put the Chinese food on the counter. Kyra looked over the selection.

  “Jake, there’s enough food here for ten people,” she said, amazed.

  “I couldn’t decide and didn’t know what you liked, so I got a little of everything.”

  Good, maybe he’ll be too busy eating to talk, she thought. Jake looked tired and discouraged. It couldn’t be all about Mia. Managing the two departments must be getting to him—or was it about today’s incident? Kyra’s stomach jolted as it raced to her throat at the thought. What would she tell him? Could she trust him? Or would he lock her up?

  Honestly, she wanted to come clean and walk away. The only reason she hadn’t done it before was Trevor. She needed to think about him. Tom was not a stable parent, and Trevor needed his mother. I’m not the best person in the world. But I’m a good mother. I love my son. She spooned some pork fried rice onto her dish along with some boneless spareribs and an egg roll, smeared the hot Chinese mustard on before sitting down.

  “That’s it?” Jake asked, eyeing her plate.

  “This is my idea of Chinese food, Jake.” She watched him shake his head then pile the food onto his plate. “Think you have enough there?”

  Putting a forkful into his mouth he curled his lips. She turned her attention back to her food. Avoidance, she thought. Tonight was supposed to be all about sex, not her life. Maybe she should cut him out of her life tonight and avoid the complication of his curiosity. Or was it more? Had he discovered something about the cremations? She paled at the thought.

  “You okay Kyra?” he asked, concerned.

  “Yes…I’m…I’m just fretting over the upcoming court date for custody.”

  He grabbed her hand. “If you need it, I’ll testify as a character witness.”

  Kyra couldn’t control the tears at Jake’s unexpected offer. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Jake continued to hold her hand, rubbed his thumb over the top to calm her. The simple gesture ignited her passion for him. She reached across the table, kissed him gently on the lips. He took the kiss deeper. Okay, she thought, maybe we won’t talk tonight, excellent. He broke the kiss, letting go of her hand to eat.

  “I’m not very hungry, Jake.”

  “Sorry, I am.”

  She picked up her fork and started playing with her food. Throughout her whole life, Kyra could predict if something bad was about to happen. Her stomach would get queasy and swirl its contents around. It was the same feeling she got when riding a rollercoaster as it hit the top of the track, that slow agonizing pull, knowing that in seconds your life would be on the line; then it drops you over the edge, where you defy gravity and logic. Giving in to your fear as your mind screams, ‘this is the end.’ Then it hits the next low and you celebrate life, before you face the next drop and the loop continues. It seems to last a lifetime, when in reality it was mere minutes. Since Jake’s call today in the middle of the encounter with Joe, Kyra’s stomach felt like the first car on the rollercoaster, just before the drop.

  She watched Jake continue to shovel food into his mouth, wondering when he ate last. He cleaned his plate, put down his fork, and Kyra knew it was time.

  *

  Tom Russell left O’Malley’s bar on East Main Street, slightly drunk, and headed into the parking lot to get his car. Most of the lights in the parking lot were broken or burned out. Tom fumbled for his keys in his pocket as a man appeared out of the shadows. Too drunk or too stupid to care, Tom ignored him and walked by.

  “Mister, you okay to drive?”

  “What’s it to you, buddy?” Tom cursed because he couldn’t find the right key.

  “Just asking, that’s all.”

  Tom turned to his car and leaned on the hood for balance when the man pounced on him, throwing a fist into his kidneys.

  “What the fu…” he screamed, as he started to fall to the ground.

  The man spun him around, pulled him up by his jacket, and started pounding his fist in Tom’s face and stomach. Drunk, Tom was no match for his assailant. His coordination was off from all the whiskey he’d downed. He couldn’t land one punch. Tom tried to focus because the man was speaking to him, but pain exploded in his face and body, the words just noise in his ears. He thought he heard Kyra’s name. God, he hoped they hadn’t attacked Kyra. The man blurred in his vision as the blood dripped down his forehead into his eyes.

  “Take my money,” Tom murmured, slumping against the car. If the man hadn’t held him up with one hand as he beat him with the other, he would’ve been on the ground. Doesn’t anyone in the bar hear what’s going on out here, he thought.

  “Can you hear me, Tom?” the man asked, as he stopped pounding on him, grabbed him by both of his lapels.

  “Yes,” Tom said, praying the fight was over.

  “Good. Now listen carefully. Kyra says to back off or there’ll be more of this. Understand?”

  “Kyra…” Kyra wouldn’t do this…would she? Was it her cop?

  “Yes, Kyra.”

  “Who are you?” Tom wiped the blood off that ran down his chin with the back of his hand.

  “Understand that Jake won’t put up with you messing with her. Got it? The next time the beating will be worse.” Tom hit the ground when the man let go of his jacket, walking away from him.

  *

  “Kyra, let’s go sit on the couch and talk,” Jake said.

  They walked into the living room, sat on the couch, and half turned to each other. She got comfortable, put her feet up under her, sitting on them. Staring at one of the candles she lit earlier, the flames danced with the movement of the air.

  Blue to yellow and then back to blue. She decided to speak first.

  “About what, Jake?” Play dumb, she thought.

  “What went on today at the casino?”

  “I don’t know…not really,” she said, when she saw Jake’s expression.

  “Why would this guy…or casino host, right?” She nodded. He continued. “Why would he try to force you into the car?”

  “Jake, just before that he tried to talk to me inside the casino, and I told him to blow off. That I didn’t want to be associated with him ever again.”

  “Why were you there to begin with? I thought you weren’t gambling anymore?”

  “I haven’t been, but today I just wanted an escape and I took the afternoon off. I was headed to the beach, but decided at the last minute to go to the casino.”

  Why was she explaining herself to him? He wasn’t her husband. In fact, he was the man dumping her. She held his gaze, trying to figure out where he was headed with his questions.

  “You’re annoyed that I’m questioning you?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Why does it concern you? As of next Monday, I’m not in your life. Your choice, remember?” Good, Kyra. Put him on the defensive.

  “I remember, Kyra. I’m concerned for you. You could’ve been hurt today, or worse, killed.”

  “I appreciate your help and your concern, Jake. I think the guy just blew a gasket today. I’m sure he won’t try that again. Besides, I wasn’t even there for an hour. Bored, I was on my way out when he approached me. It’s the reason I was in the garage in the first place.”

  Silence! Never a good thing, she thought. Jake’s probably lining up his next set of questions. Damn, she had an idea where he was going to go with them. A cold, imaginary hand squeezed her spine causing her to shudder involuntarily. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she waited him out.
Kyra learned a long time ago that filling the silence wasn’t to her advantage. Jake shifted on the couch to look at her head-on, took her hand in his. Kyra adjusted her legs. They were falling asleep under her, and she needed to break eye contact.

  “Kyra, I’ve been putting this off since I first met Phil Lucci. He’s the head of the Connecticut mob. Did you know that?”

  “I had a feeling he wasn’t aboveboard, and that’s why I only dated him the one time.”

  She watched a frown play over his face, glad she hadn’t completed her thought. She almost told him that Joe introduced them.

  “Since I met you, Kyra, I’ve had a feeling that not all is kosher with you. Something’s off. I can’t put my finger on it.”

  “Nice, Jake. Now that you’ve decided not to date me, you’re going to start playing games?” She remained on the offensive.

  “You know that has nothing to do with anything. I’ve been asking to speak with you on this subject since the beginning.”

  “But you always got sidetracked with sex—isn’t that right?” Kyra tilted her head to the side and gave him a skeptical look.

  “No…” he said loudly.

  Understanding his frustration, she pushed. “I think so, Jake. I believe you were jealous that Sunday on the beach when you met Phil, and you’ve had him in your sights ever since.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I deal with human garbage every day and Phil Lucci’s at the top of the pile. His kind kills people because they feel like it or because they look at him wrong. Women are a means to an end with men like him. He has no respect for them.”

  Wow, he nailed Phil. “Lower your voice, Jake, you’re shouting.”

  The front door bell rang.

  Kyra got up to answer the door without looking through the peephole. Surprised when her visitors turned out to be two uniformed cops, she turned to Jake.

  “I think you have visitors,” she said to him.

  “Mrs. Russell? Kyra Russell?”

  Confused, she turned back to her door. “Yes?”

 

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