Faye Kellerman_Decker & Lazarus 10

by Serpent's Tooth

“Repeat it to you?”

  “No. Repeat it to Lieutenant Decker.”

  “When?”

  “Now.”

  “Now?”

  “Now!”

  Joachim looked at her. “He’s your superior, isn’t he?”

  For once, Cindy didn’t have to lie. “Yes, Joachim. Lieutenant Decker is my superior.”

  33

  Reading yesterday’s paper at one in the morning. Decker wondered why he bothered. The news was never uplifting. Sitting in his pajamas and bathrobe at the dining table, sipping weak coffee, wishing the nightmares would vanish. Still, he couldn’t complain. Only five weeks since Estelle’s and he made it through the night about half the time.

  He heard a bedroom door open, turned around. Sammy froze in his tracks, an odd smile on his face. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” Decker put the paper down. “Trouble sleeping?”

  Sammy shrugged. “I guess. Thought I’d get something to drink.”

  “Anything specific on your mind?”

  “No, I’m fine.” The teen rubbed his hands together. “Are you always up this late?”

  “Sometimes. I like it when the house is quiet.”

  “So then…no one’s called here in the last half hour?”

  Decker’s eyes bored into the boy. “What kind of phone call would come through at one in the morning?”

  “Yeah, silly question, huh?” The teen looked away. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Bye.”

  The boy scooted out.

  Now what the hell was that all about?

  Within minutes, Sam materialized. Again, that funny smile. “I’m going back to bed.”

  “Good night, Sam.”

  “’Night.”

  Decker watched his stepson disappear behind his bedroom door, went back to his paper. A few minutes later, an engine purred, headlights shining into the house. Then silence and darkness. A door opening and closing. Again, he put the paper down, got up, and peered through the bay window.

  What in the world?

  A shadow resembling his daughter. He opened the front door and in walked Cindy. Decker’s eyes shot down to his naked wrist where his watch usually sat.

  “It’s one-fifteen,” Cindy informed him. “Glad you’re up. I’ve got someone in the car you need to talk to as Lieutenant Decker. I’ll give you a few minutes to get dressed.”

  Then she walked out. Decker was stunned. Resisted the urge to bolt after her. Instead, he went to get dressed. By the time he was back, Cindy had brought in a boy. Way too young to be a date. A gawky kid of around seventeen, garbed in baggy clothes. Peach fuzz sat on the face. But the eyes were alert and well focused…anxious as well.

  Decker nodded. The boy nodded back. Unnoticed by his stepfather, Sam had tiptoed in, stopped, stared openmouthed at Cindy and Joachim. Cindy’s eyes drifted over her father’s shoulder to Sammy, who was making gestures at her. Slitting his throat with his finger.

  Still, she plowed ahead. “Lieutenant, this is Joachim Rush. I believe the name is familiar to you. Joachim, this is Lieutenant Decker.”

  Instantly, Decker’s chest started pounding. That was all he needed—a heart attack at one in the morning. The boy extended his hand.

  “Sir.”

  Decker shook it, managed to keep his expression neutral, hoped he could do the same for his voice. “Have a seat. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  Decker crooked a finger at his daughter. Cindy looked past him at Sammy, who was gesticulating frantically, swinging his arms out, mouthing the words: no, no, no.

  “What are you looking—” Decker turned around.

  Sammy gave him a little wave.

  Cindy said, “Good night, Sam—”

  “Hold on a minute,” Decker said. “You’re not going anywhere. Can someone tell me what’s going on?”

  Cindy spoke to the teen. “We’ll get down to business in a moment. Sam, why don’t you keep Joachim occupied for a little bit? Take out a Scrabble board.”

  Her stepbrother had the same sick grin on his face.

  “Do it now, please,” Cindy said.

  Sam tightened his bathrobe. “Sure.”

  Before Decker could speak, Cindy took her father’s arm, steered him into the kitchen, out of Joachim’s earshot. Still, she whispered. “Dad, give me a chance and I’ll explain everything.”

  He was a fraction of a second away from exploding. But his daughter’s expression held him back. A look of intensity, of purpose. He spoke quietly. “You’ve got thirty seconds. Make it good.”

  “Joachim knows nothing about your suspicions regarding Jeanine Garrison, that she had planned Estelle’s as a front for her parents’ hits. My opinion? Joachim had nothing to do with Estelle’s, period. He was at a Scrabble tournament when the shooting went down. I’ll tell you how I found that out later. Actually, this isn’t about Estelle’s at all. It’s about David Garrison. There have been rumors at Westbridge Prep that Sean Amos might have hired someone to ice David Garrison with a needle. Make it look like an accidental OD because everyone knew David was a hype. Prime candidate as hit man is a student/dealer named Malcolm Carey. I’d say more but my thirty seconds are up.”

  Decker stood speechless, then forced words from his throat. “Good Lord, what have you gotten into?”

  “Me? Nothing. I’m just a conduit—”

  “How’d you…” He glared at her. “Sammy drag you into this?”

  She returned his fiery expression. “Does it matter, Dad?

  The point is, you’ve finally got a way to get to Jeanine Garrison—”

  “Estelle’s isn’t even my case anymore—”

  “Oh screw that—”

  “Shhh. Give me a moment to think. To absorb what you just threw at me.” Decker’s brain was awhirl. “What kind of rumors?”

  “Might be better if you heard it from Joachim.”

  “Cindy, how do you know the kid’s not onto you, snowing you with lies?”

  “I have my reasons. But talk to him yourself. If you disagree, I’ll defer to you.”

  “But you don’t think he’s involved in any crime?”

  “Dad, far as I can tell, his only crime is dishonesty. He sells his brain, writes papers and essays for people like Sean Amos.”

  “For a price.”

  “Yes, for a price. Matter of fact, Joachim was negotiating a paper with Sean Amos when Martinez spied them in the school’s parking lot. The envelope that he saw exchange hands…money for an English essay.”

  “You asked him about that meeting?”

  “Of course not. Everything was done indirectly. Daddy, he didn’t tell me about the plagiarism scheme. I guessed it. That’s how I tripped him up. Joachim not only cribs for Sean, but for others. I told him I was Cindy Cohen, hired by the school to investigate a big homework deception scandal—”

  “You figured out that cover by yourself?”

  Cindy nodded.

  “Just…made it up? On the spot?”

  She smiled. “You’re impressed?”

  Decker was very impressed! But he didn’t tell her. Instead, he said, “And he fell for it?”

  “No, not completely. Now he thinks I’m a narc. He thinks I’m working under your command. Actually, I sense that he doesn’t know what to believe. Except he knows that you really are a police lieutenant. So he’s scared enough to talk. I suggest you take advantage.”

  Decker cocked his head over his shoulder. “What’s Sammy’s part in all of this?”

  “He overheard you and Rina talking about the Garrison case, had some ideas of his own. He didn’t know how to broach you, so he called me.” Cindy waited a beat. “He did it because he cares about what matters to you. So do I.”

  No one spoke.

  Cindy said, “Dad, Joachim might not be the break you need. He might not pan out. But he is an in to Westbridge. If you had hired your own private detective, you couldn’t have done any better, correct?”

  Decker didn’t answer.

  Cindy said, “Mal
colm Carey’s got a lock on Westbridge. You want chemicals, you go to him. Deals in pot, rock cocaine, powdered coke, roofies, ice, and heroin. He’s a bad boy. Certainly Joachim is entitled to talk to the police about criminal activity at his school. Just hear him out. You know I’m making sense.”

  “Yes, I know. But I’m not objective right now.” Decker spoke to himself. “I need a third party.”

  “How about Rina?”

  “Better yet, I’ll call Marge. Go take care of your charge and I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

  Cindy said, “Thanks for keeping your cool, for not playing irate parent—”

  “That’ll come.”

  “No doubt.” She kissed her father’s cheek. “But nothing I can’t handle.”

  Marge had brought Oliver. Martinez and Webster had wanted to come as well, but Decker had nixed the idea. Too many people. Might make the kid choke.

  The burst of activity in the house had awakened Rina. She walked into the brightly lit living room, eyes squinting, a dazed look on her face. More than anything she wanted to know why Sammy was playing Scrabble at 1:45 in the morning. Cindy took her into the kitchen, tried to explain things. But it left Rina even more confused. Still, she didn’t argue. Instead, she made a pot of decaf, deciding to sort it out later.

  Sam finished his game with Joachim by two, put away the board and tiles, then retired. Rina went to sleep ten minutes later, leaving the group sitting around a table, coffee mugs in hand. Decker gave Joachim center stage. He told his story, speaking slowly and carefully.

  Marge was the first one with a question. “Has Sean heard these rumors?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “What did he say about them?”

  “Shrugged them off.”

  “Did they bother him?” Oliver wanted to know.

  “No,” Joachim said. “At least, that’s my perception. I told Cindy…is that really your name?”

  “Yes. Go on, Joachim.”

  “It seemed like Sean enjoyed the notoriety,” the kid said. “Made him look like a hard case. Because up until then…he was just another whiny rich boy. No one took him seriously.”

  Cindy said, “He’s popular. You told me that.”

  “You have that kind of money, you’re superficially popular. But that doesn’t prevent people from talking behind your back. Sean’s a first-class slacker.”

  “He’s on the tennis team,” Cindy argued.

  “Yeah, he does athletics,” Joachim said. “But mostly he parties—gets drunk or stoned, then screws around. Also, he and his friends like to tag on the weekends. Mostly street or stop signs. Their big forays into criminal activities.”

  Joachim made a face as if to say Amos couldn’t even cut it as a felon.

  “Sean did get some brownie points when he started doing Jeanine. Impressive at first, but even then people started poking him behind his back.”

  “Could be they were jealous,” Oliver said.

  “Yeah, I’m sure they were,” Joachim said. “Still, he was getting a rep of being pathetic, that she treated him like a trained dog—‘Fetch, boy, roll over and play dead.’”

  He paused.

  “I never saw it. But you’d hear things.”

  The teen licked his lips.

  “I’ve known Sean for a while. Seen him react to all kinds of situations. The talk about Jeanine…it got to him. He started acting weird. Especially after Estelle’s. Because the dissing got worse.”

  “Why?” Oliver asked.

  “Because everyone kept saying that Jeanine was going to dump him now that she’d inherited money. See, up until then…no one could figure it out…him and Jeanine. I mean, no one had any trouble understanding his attraction to her. But why would she be interested in Sean? They figured she had to be after his bread.”

  “Wasn’t Jeanine rich in her own right?” Marge asked. “Even before her parents died?”

  “I have no idea. But I do know that Sean’s dad is really rich…Texas oil money. Sean has lots of toys.”

  “What kind of toys?” Oliver asked.

  “Typical Westbridge stuff—the sports car, the skis, the wet suit and surf boards, the five-eight-five PC with CD-ROM, the winter vacations in Switzerland, the summers on the Riviera. Plus the private tennis lessons. Sean plays the local circuit. He’s not very good. But I know professional instruction doesn’t come cheap.”

  Marge asked, “Do most Westbridge boys belong to Greenvale, Joachim?”

  The teen nodded.

  “And most of them are rich?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then Jeanine could have had her pick of boys.”

  “Probably.”

  “So why do you think Jeanine chose Sean?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Decker said, “After Jeanine’s parents were killed, you said kids began to razz Sean.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And he began acting weird?”

  “Yes.”

  “Define weird?”

  Joachim thought a moment. “Short-tempered. Also physical. Apparently, he’d gone psycho at a couple of parties, got into a few shoving matches. Also…” He sighed.” “He raped a girl. Sean claims it was a party thing…that everyone was drunk and the girl consented. But she claims it was rape. You know…rophynol…roofies.”

  “Any charges filed?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “So you have no way of knowing whether any of it is true or not.”

  “No. But when you hear the same story over and over…”

  “What about Sean’s drug use?” Decker asked.

  “I tutored him,” Joachim said. “I’ve seen him use.”

  “What does he use?” Decker pressed.

  “Pot, coke…heroin. He used to smoke it. After he hooked up with Jeanine, he started chipping.”

  “Mainlines?”

  “Don’t know.” He was quiet. “You know, you get a rep as a real badass if you use a needle. That and doing hookers without wearing skins. It means you don’t give a shit. Viral Russian Roulette. They’re all crazy. I mean, they’ve got everything and all they can think about is frying their brains. I don’t get it.”

  The room went silent.

  Joachim said, “That’s when the rumors about Sean popping David Garrison got started. When Sean started using a needle.”

  Again, the boy paused.

  “You know, it worked. The badass image, I mean. People stopped razzing Sean after David Garrison OD’d. I think they were…afraid of him.”

  Decker said, “Tell me about Sean and Malcolm Carey. Are they buddies?”

  “Malcolm’s kind of a loner. But he and Sean did start hanging out together after David Garrison died.”

  Decker said, “Malcolm is in charge of Westbridge’s drug distribution?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Does he have any competition?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Who does he buy from?”

  “Don’t know,” Joachim said. “But he speaks fluent Spanish. And he took French in school. I know this because I’ve tutored him.”

  “Is Malcolm a rich kid?” Marge asked.

  “His father’s an entertainment lawyer who became an agent. I’m sure he makes an obscene amount of money. Still, Mal is not in Sean’s league.”

  Marge said, “You think Malcolm would do real nasty things for money?”

  “Things like stick Garrison with pure heroin?” Joachim nodded. “Without question. Probably do it just for the kicks. But I don’t know this for fact.”

  Oliver asked, “Did Malcolm suddenly start showing off any new toys after David Garrison died?”

  “You mean like buy a new car or something?”

  “Exactly.”

  Joachim thought a moment. “I don’t know. But I don’t pay attention to Malcolm. I could check it out—”

  In unison, the detectives told him No! Don’t check anything out!

  Firmly, Decker said, “Joachim, it’s imper
ative that you don’t get involved. That you stay away.”

  Marge added, “That way you don’t get hurt and we can run our investigation.”

  Joachim looked at Cindy. “Your questions…they were just a front. This is really about David Garrison, isn’t it? I mean…my doing papers for other people. You don’t care about that, do you?”

  “Nah, I don’t care,” Cindy answered.

  “So I’m not in any trouble with my school or with Yale’s Office of Admissions.”

  “Nope.”

  Joachim sat back in his chair. “God, you’re a sadist!”

  Cindy shrugged.

  The boy said, “Don’t be too remorseful.”

  Decker said, “Officer Cohen was just doing her job.”

  “So you are a cop!”

  Decker tossed his daughter a surreptitious wink. “And a very good one at that.”

  Holding back a smile, Cindy said, “Sorry for the subterfuge. And I appreciate your help, even if it was coerced.” A pause. “You know, Joachim, being accepted to Yale…you might want to keep your nose clean for the next nine months.”

  “You’re absolutely right.” Joachim looked down. “It was never the money, you know. I don’t care about money. I’m not saying I did it because I had to. I didn’t have to. No one made me write the papers. But…sometimes you do things…because it makes your life easier.”

  Decker said, “That’s valid. But I agree with Officer Cohen. Keep your nose clean.”

  Joachim tapped his foot. His eyes grew big. “You know, if you want Malcolm Carey, I could help you—”

  “No, Joachim,” Decker said. “We don’t want your help—”

  Joachim blurted out, “Don’t you use informants, Lieutenant?”

  “Not minors,” Marge said.

  “I turned eighteen a week ago,” Joachim said.

  The room went quiet.

  Joachim bounced his leg up and down. “I wouldn’t even have to be involved in any transaction. Just keep my ears open. I blend into the crowd there. People talk around me—like I don’t exist.”

  Marge said, “Joachim—”

  The teen interrupted, “If you wanted to catch Sean doing a buy from Malcolm…that would be hard. Probably they deal at Sean’s house. But if you want Malcolm…” He waved his hand in the air. “That’s a snap. First off, he’s got more shit in his car than the Medellín Cartel. Second, he deals openly at parties. All I have to do is keep my ears open. All you’ll need is a couple of narcs and a warrant—”