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Sweet Jayne

Page 22

by K. Webster


  “Exactly. Your boss man has been having me do shit for him for the better part of six years. Collecting evidence like this from crime scenes to keep certain local politicians and businessmen out of trouble.” He runs a hand through his greasy hair and scratches his scalp. “And then he just fires me. I do his goddamned dirty work and he lets me go for doing shit he told me to do. He’s the dirty cop, not me. I was just following orders.”

  Tensing up, I grit my teeth before speaking. “You have anything to back up these claims? These are hefty accusations—accusations that could land you in prison because of your part in them.”

  He scoffs and throws his hands in the air. “You think I give a fuck about that right now? Word on the street is Chief fired me because I checked out his woman. Can you believe that? The actual bogus shit he fired me for isn’t what got back to my wife. No, Sandra hears this stupid rumor about me lusting over some chick and decides to leave me. Took my boy with her. Says I’m a cheating manwhore. I ain’t slept with nobody but her in sixteen years, Ghost. So now I’ve got no job and no wife.”

  I sigh and pull out my phone. “There’re ways we handle this. Internal Affairs deals with this stuff all the time. I’ll call Mark and—”

  “No,” he grumbles and waves me off. “Chief has all his friends in high places. Mark Smart is another one of his fucking minions. This whole town is full of crooked bastards hiding mistresses from their wives, money from the IRS, and crimes from the police department. Logan Baldwin carries the broom. He sweeps it all under the rug. For the longest time, I lifted that rug. Helped him do his dirty work.”

  I raise my eyebrows at him. “So what do you want from me?”

  “I want a clean cop. I want someone to involve the Feds and bring him down. The motherfucker should go to prison.”

  Turning away from him, I stalk to the corner of the building and peek around. Satisfied that nobody is watching or listening, I stride back over to him. “So you want me to bring this information to the Feds? I need substantial proof, Stokes. If he’s dirty like you say, and I honestly believe you, then we need unmitigated evidence against him.”

  “We have it,” he says in a triumphant tone. “Storage shed near the airport. He pays rent on the thing. Was always sending me out there. The place is damn near full of all the skeletons he’s been paid to hide. I know this because I was his fucking errand boy.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “We’ll need a warrant and—”

  “And who the hell you think you’re getting a warrant from, Lieutenant? Judge Ackerson? The man got a seventeen-year-old girl pregnant. You think he’s going to help you when Chief Baldwin got rid of the statutory rape case filed by her parents? Or hell, maybe you think Judge Miller would get you that warrant. Well, funny thing is, her son Josh should have more DUIs than any normal person and should have gone to prison years ago, but somehow that guy still drives a bus for the school district. His record is clean. Who do you think ‘handles’ Josh’s mishaps?”

  “I see your point,” I grumble. “So you have the number to the storage unit? What about a key?”

  He lights another cigarette and sucks in a drag. With a smoky exhale, his eyes meet mine. “It’s in his safe. Whenever he needed me to run something out to the unit, I came and got the key. Afterwards, I was to give it back. For my troubles, he always paid me in cash, under the table. It really helped out because with Kenneth playing varsity ball, we could afford to send him to tournaments and on trips. I ain’t dirty like him, Kasper. Just did my job.”

  Of course Logan would have someone doing his deeds for him but also kept a careful eye on the fact it was secure.

  “I’ll get in his safe. But he always locks up before he leaves. I’ll need you to distract him so I can get in there. If I go through all this trouble and there is no key or storage unit, I’ll have one of the unis bring you in for falsely accusing an officer of the law.”

  He takes another drag of his cigarette and hands me a sticky note with a number written on it. “The key’s there man and here’s the unit number.”

  “Fine. I’ll get it today.”

  Stokes flings yet another burning cigarette into the grass before stalking off toward the back of the building. When he’s out of sight, I stomp both of the butts out and head inside.

  Lena regards me with raised brows when I pass by her desk. “Chief is on a tirade today. Did you hear someone set his Tahoe on fire last night? He’s like a raging bull. I’d steer clear of him if I were you, Ghost.”

  Rolling my eyes, I say, “I can handle myself.”

  I make my way straight to his office. When I enter his doorway, I stealthily cram the sticky note into the latch catch of the door and lean against it to hide my evidence. “Any leads on the perp?”

  Logan’s rage-filled eyes meet mine and he grumbles. “Security footage conveniently lapsed during that time. Fucking bastards. I know Donovan had something to do with this shit. I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  My body is tense but I try to school my features. I’d put an entire magazine of bullets in his skull before I even let him breathe in Amethyst’s direction.

  “We can send some unis to interview some of the staff and guests from the party. I’m sure something will come up,” I tell him.

  A screech behind me has Logan and I looking out into the hallway. Lena is hurrying toward us.

  “Chief, I’m so sorry to interrupt you but it’s Bart Stokes. He’s outside swinging a baseball bat. Took out three sets of headlights on some squad cars out front before I could even gather my thoughts to come get you. I don’t think he’s done either!” she blurts out quickly.

  Logan’s face turns bright purple and he looks like he wants to turn over his desk at any moment.

  “Get some unis out there now!” he barks as he grabs his gun and holster from the desk. When he stands, he eyes me warily. “I still want eyes on Donovan. Get on that, Lieutenant.”

  I nod and step out into the hallway. He carefully takes the time to lock up his office before trotting after Lena toward the parking lot. As soon as he rounds the corner, out of eyesight, I pull out my pocketknife and wedge it in near where the latch is supposed to connect. But since I stuffed the sticky note inside, I’m able to pry open the door easily. The moment the door pops open, I push my way in and head straight for the safe.

  “This better work,” I mutter to myself.

  I attempt the numbers from yesterday I’d seen him enter and it unclicks, gaining me entry. There isn’t much inside except for stacks of cash, a file, and a key. I swipe both the file and the key. Once I’ve shoved the file into my zipped-up jacket and pocketed the key, I open his desk drawer and find a random file to replace it with. Then, I yank off one of my keys from my ring that opens the supply closet in the back. Once I’m satisfied that nothing looks amiss, I close the safe and tidy up any evidence that would indicate I was here. The last thing I grab is the sticky note from the door latch and lock the door, pulling it closed behind me.

  There is all sorts of commotion in the lobby, but I head straight for my office. Once inside, I lock the door behind me and take a seat at my desk. Pulling the file from my jacket, I set it down so I can stare at it. It’s thick and bulges with paperwork. My stomach turns when I see my sister’s name scrawled on the tab.

  That motherfucker.

  This file is four times as thick as the one I’d checked out of storage on her long ago. Fury bubbles deep inside of me but I contain it at the moment. I refuse to let my anger cloud my judgment.

  With a deep breath, I flip open the file. The first few pages are the same as in the file I have. Nadia Jayne’s testimony. Her million fucking “I don’t knows” and “I can’t remembers.” But then, I come across another statement. And another. And another. Each one a tiny detail. One little morsel she’d remembered. A lead she’d researched and thought the department should follow up on. All kinds of leads.

  I pull up another handwritten statement in her girly flourish.

&n
bsp; I’d gone to a hypnotherapist to help me remember. She’d helped get me back to that day. I could still smell the lingering scent of the cigarette she’d thrown in the street. The way the grass tickled the backs of my thighs. Everything seemed to go in slow motion. A black vehicle, a Suburban, with a lift kit and gigantic tires. On the windshield, it had red vinyl angry eyes. Like a beast.

  My body ignites with a hate so furious, I can barely control myself to continue reading. I know that goddamned vehicle. I flip the page to another statement that had come several months later.

  I woke up from a nightmare but I’d remembered something. Something important. The man had on black slacks. And his boots were the kind you’d wear with a uniform. He even had something silver that glinted in the morning sun at his belt. I think it was a badge. I’m worried he may’ve been a policeman or a fireman or a member of the military.

  My rage blinds me for a moment.

  Focus, Kasper. Fucking focus.

  Flipping the page, I find one dated the day Nadia disappeared off my radar.

  He had a tattoo. Something colorful and artfully done. I couldn’t make out what it was but it had peeked out between the bottom of his long-sleeved shirt and his wrist. Feathers maybe? Fire? I’m not sure but I feel like this is useful information.

  It’s useful for sure.

  I’m still flipping through the file trying to make sense of this shit when I realize several hours have passed. I scrub my face with my palm and pull my phone out to let Ames know I won’t be making our lunch date. When I open the display screen, I see I’ve missed some texts.

  Ames: I’m going to talk to Nadia while Logan is at work. I’ll find out what I can from her about Kasey and also give her the number to the women’s shelter. See you soon, handsome. Turns out I do miss that monster cock of yours, Kaspy. ;)

  This text was sent not long after I left her at my place this morning. Not even a half hour later, about the time Stokes was pulling his crap, I missed another text. This one from Logan.

  Chief: Something came up at home. I’ll be out for the rest of the day. Keep your eyes peeled for Stokes. He drove off before I could get to him. Also, keep Donovan in your sights like we talked about.

  I’m already rising to my feet before I even finish reading his text.

  Fuck!

  Quickly, I dial Donovan. When he picks up, I start barking at him. “Meet me at Logan’s. Right fucking now. Some shit is going down.”

  “Leaving now,” he bellows back before hanging up.

  Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

  I drive twenty over the speed limit the whole way there with my lights flashing. Motherfuckers still drive like shit and I nearly run a couple off the road. As soon as I pull into Logan’s driveway, I’m glad to see a sleek, black Lexus pulling in behind me. We both clamber out of our vehicles. Upon first inspection, the garage door is open but only one vehicle remains in the three-car bay. His white Ford is missing along with his ruined Tahoe.

  “It’s Logan. I found the file on my sister. That motherfucker has kept all this shit from me. I can’t fucking believe this,” I grumble as I pull my 9 mm from its holster. “His truck isn’t here, but that doesn’t mean anything. Keep your eyes peeled.”

  Donovan shocks me when he pulls a Glock from the back of his pants and holds it at his side. I give him a nod before silently climbing the steps. Once on the porch, I slip past the windows and try the door handle. It turns easily to which I push through.

  “Nadia?” I call out.

  The house remains quiet aside from the heavy breathing from both Donovan and I.

  “Nadia? You here? Is Ames here?”

  This time, I hear a muffled moan. Donovan and I both dart toward the back of the house. The moment we enter Logan’s dark bedroom because of the heavy curtains hiding the afternoon sun, I fumble for the light switch.

  As soon as the room is lit up, Donovan lets out a choked gasp. “Nadia!”

  My stomach roils in disgust at the scene before me. Nadia is naked and handcuffed. Her cheeks are stained from the mascara she wore last night having bled off from crying. The normally pretty hair on her head is matted and tangled. She’s bleeding from several lacerations all over her badly beaten body. But the disgusting thing is the metal stuck in her ass.

  “Is that a fucking hook?” I demand.

  Donovan is kneeling beside her, his hands roaming all over her flesh, and I can see him working out what to do next. How to help her. “How the fuck do I undo this shit?” His voice is hoarse and emotion-filled.

  I take in the ball gag stuffed in her mouth. Slobber runs down her chin. The hook that’s stuck in her ass is attached to a chain that travels up her spine, around her neck, and hooks on through a loop of the ball gag. A lock holds it all in place.

  “What in the ever loving fuck?” I mutter and run my fingers through my hair.

  “I-I-I need something to cut through this chain,” he says as he strokes the hair out of her eyes. “Baby, I’m going to get you out of this. Just stay calm, okay?”

  But she’s not calm.

  Her eyes are on me as tears roll out. Muffled cries. Pleas maybe. Whatever she’s trying to convey to me isn’t coming through.

  “Is Logan here?” I question.

  She starts to shake her head and lets out a scream behind the gag. The stupid goddamned contraption pulls at the hook in her.

  “Jesus,” I bellow. “Don’t move. Don’t fucking move. One blink for yes and two for no.”

  She blinks once showing her understanding. I wish Donovan would look around for a key or something but he’s about three seconds from having a meltdown. He just keeps stroking and kissing her.

  “Is Logan here?”

  Two blinks.

  Good.

  “Is Amethyst here?”

  One blink.

  Shit.

  “Where?” I demand.

  Tears spill out as she glances past me.

  “In the basement?”

  One blink.

  When I start for the doorway, she starts screaming through the gag, effectively halting me. Two blinks. Two blinks. Two blinks.

  “Can he see us right now?”

  One blink.

  “Fuck!”

  “I need something to cut through this, Kasper. Do you see a key lying around anywhere?” Donovan demands, desperation making his voice husky.

  I frantically start flinging drawers open. Nadia is screaming again, so I turn to her. “Do you know where the key is?”

  One blink.

  I sink on my knees beside her. “Where is it?”

  She sobs and I hate that I can’t help her.

  “Is it in this room?” I try again.

  One blink.

  “Am I close?”

  One blink.

  “Fuck, does a handcuff key work?”

  A sob but one blink.

  Scrambling at my keys, I locate the one that will work.

  “What’s that sound?” Donovan shouts.

  I’m focused on trying to unlock the padlock without tugging on the fucked up hook thing it’s attached to. She starts screaming again and I think I’ve hurt her.

  “KASPER, WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SOUND?”

  I pause to listen.

  Gushing.

  Gushing.

  Gushing.

  Sounds like water.

  I twist the key in the lock and thank fuck it unlatches. As soon, as I unhook it and pull the lock off, I tug the ball gag from her mouth.

  “Kasper, go! Before it’s too late!”

  Donovan takes over unwrapping the chain from around her neck and then gently removes the hook from her body. I was right. A thick, metal hook shaped device with a round ball the size of a butt plug at the end was shoved up her ass. At least it wasn’t sharp.

  “What are you talking about, Nadia?” I question and toss Donovan my pocketknife as I stand. He sets to sawing the rope binding her knees together.

  “He finally did it. We have to get down there
. Tell me you have the code!”

  “Is Ames down there?”

  “Yes, and they’ll drown if you don’t get down there now!!”

  I’m already sprinting down the hallway before the words leave her mouth. With shaking fingers, I unsuccessfully enter the code.

  Denied.

  Denied.

  Denied.

  Fuck!

  I enter it again, forcing myself to slow down.

  Click.

  Donovan is helping a naked, hobbling Nadia down the hallway just as I get the door open. “Get her out of here, Donovan. I’m going to save Amethyst!”

  He nods and starts past me with Nadia but she starts screaming. “No! I have to get down there! I have to help save them!”

  Them.

  Them.

  Hope, a bitch of an emotion, floods through me as I stomp down the steps, adrenaline coursing through me.

  “Ames!” I call out.

  The basement is pitch black and I fumble for the small flashlight I keep on my belt. The sound of water rushing is loud. I can’t hear anything over it. It sounds like it’s rushing from several different locations.

  “Ames!”

  I locate my flashlight and push the button right as ice grips my ankles. Light illuminates my path in front of me.

  Water.

  Cold ass water.

  And lots of it.

  Coming up the bottom few steps.

  “We have to save them!” Nadia shrieks as she shoves past me, wading her naked body right into the icy abyss. Donovan is on her tail and I follow after them, trying to light the way. Nadia seems like she knows where she’s going. The water is already to her chest and about waist deep for Donovan and I. I don’t understand where exactly the water’s coming from but it shows no signs of stopping.

  “There!” she points to an open doorway under the stairs. “Shine the light there!”

  I wade over to her and follow her inside. My small beam of light flashes across the bedroom fashioned with a large bed. When my gaze lands where she’s gesturing frantically to on top of a dresser, my whole world spins. Everything around me tilts and whirls. Like I’m on some stupid ride at a carnival.

 

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