by Jordan Dane
Perhaps he only wanted to meet her, to size her up for himself. She wasn’t complaining. His curiosity had given her the same opportunity. And having one more link to Harper got her closer to answers. She headed for the door to his office, but something made her turn around.
“There is one thing.” Jess had no idea why she was in a sharing mood, but something in the way Humphries talked about Harper warmed her up to the notion. “The police took a blood sample from Seth that might help his case. Getting a quick turnaround on that tox screen sure wouldn’t hurt.”
She shrugged and left the man’s office without waiting for a response, heading back the way she’d come. But when she walked by the door to the small-yet-spotless break room, she noticed an employee bulletin board and wandered in to check it out, playing a hunch.
Humphries struck her as someone who would take his job seriously, going above and beyond his normal duties to see that his ship ran smoothly. A captain with enough resolve to go down with his sinking vessel rather than being the first rat off the ship. And it wouldn’t be a stretch to think he’d be the gatekeeper to anyone above him, but how Harper fit into the puzzle was still a mystery.
She scanned the notices posted on the corkboard. Nothing stood out, except for one thing.
All employee notices were on the letterhead of Pinnacle Real Estate Corporation. Something about the name clicked with her, but not enough for the fog to clear from her memory.
“Can I help you?” A woman’s voice came from behind her.
Jess turned and came face-to-face with the humorless administrative assistant to Jonathan Humphries.
“I was just looking to see if you had any openings.” Jess grinned. “’Cause I can totally see me working here.”
Surprisingly, the woman humored her with a smile, one of those enigmatic Mona Lisa numbers. “Come on, I’ll show you out.”
When she got to the door that led to the lobby, the woman let her pass, and added, “Tell Seth…let him know he’s in our prayers.”
More than a little speechless, Jess nodded and watched as the woman shut the door. Seth had a family here. People who didn’t believe for one second that he could murder anyone. They knew a hell of a lot more about him and were willing to keep his secret. And Jess had a feeling she hadn’t even scratched the surface of what that secret might be.
As Jess climbed into the van in the parking garage, her cell phone rang. She recognized the number.
“Yeah, Sam. What’s up?”
“Harper has got a bail hearing in an hour, give or take, depending on the docket. Thought you’d want to be there.”
“An hour?” Even time was conspiring against Seth. Getting out on bail was a long shot at best, but without that tox result, the odds of him seeing daylight anytime soon just got shot to hell.
Sam gave her the particulars, and continued, “The DA wants Harper remanded without bail. They plan to argue he’s a flight risk due to his sketchy background with no apparent ties to the community. And with the strong evidence they have against him and the brutal nature of the crime, they can make a convincing argument he’s a danger to the community. Even his big, brown, puppy-dog eyes won’t help. It doesn’t look good that he’ll be out of jail anytime soon.”
“Thanks, Sam. I’m on my way. And I’ll call you later to let you know what happened.” But Jess wasn’t hopeful Harper would be with her when she made that call, even if she could scrounge up bail.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Sam interrupted. “I looked into the police records for Beladi and Pinzolo. These are two nasty dudes. Beladi runs hookers and sells drugs, but he’s real cagey, and some of his business dealings are legit. The DA has had a hard time making an arrest stick. And Pinzolo is his muscle, suspected in more than one murder. We may never know if Beladi was Desiree’s pimp or dealer, but if Harper got between her and Beladi, he may have crossed paths with the wrong guy. And now, you have, too. Watch your backside, Jess.”
“Oh, great. And here I thought Fugitive Recovery was a great way to meet people.” She shook her head. “Call me when you know something more. And thanks, Sammie.”
Jess ended the call and put the key in the ignition to start the van. Seth’s blue monster. Driving his car—the one he had given her out of kindness—made her feel her connection to him all the more. The guy didn’t have a malicious bone in his body. And forcing him to stay in jail while he waited for trial would drain what was left of his spirit. She had already seen the damage from his incarceration over a weekend.
“Damn it, Harper. You gotta let your friends help you.” She headed for the exit and the courthouse at 26th and California Avenue. “Who the hell are you protecting?”
Cook County Criminal Courthouse
Being held in the Cook County Jail, Harper was a block down from one of the busiest felony courthouses in the country—only a short hike to public humiliation.
Jess had parked her car in a pay lot on a nearby street, not knowing how long she’d be waiting for Harper’s bail hearing. After securing her Colt Python in the glove compartment of the van, she stood in line with the masses for the metal detector and finally made her way to the room where Harper would be taken. The wood-paneled courtroom was packed with the ebb and flow of concerned parties for every case heard before Judge Joseph Bellinger, the presiding judge of the criminal division.
Overworked public defenders with their bland expressions handled one case after another. Prisoners wore civilian clothes or DOC jumpsuits and were brought in from a side entrance. Family members and other interested parties crammed the small room. Controlled chaos.
Dressed in a red prison jumpsuit, Harper was escorted into the room. Jess craned her neck to get a better look at him and tried catching his eye. When that didn’t work, she stood. Seth looked dazed, but eventually he found her standing toward the back of the room. He locked his gaze on her and with a subtle shake of his head, she knew he wished she hadn’t come, but the kid was scared. Really scared.
When his lawyer sidled up next to him, Harper turned around and lowered his head, and the proceedings began as she sat back down.
Handing the judge a case file, a court clerk said loud enough for the courtroom to hear, “Docket number 34521 People v Seth Harper, voluntary manslaughter.”
The judge flipped through the filing papers and cleared his throat.
“Voluntary manslaughter,” Judge Bellinger repeated the charge without looking up. “What’s your plea, Mr. Harper?”
Seth kept his head down, barely looking up at the man in the black robe. Jess could only imagine the terrible blur his life had become. And today was another sickening spiral of degradation.
“Not guilty, Your Honor.”
Jess barely heard his voice through all the commotion near her. After Harper choked out his plea, the judge asked for the People to present the evidence against him. Stacy Nichols, a slender blonde in a rust-colored suit spoke up, a young attorney with the DA’s Office trying to make her mark. She knew of the woman and her ruthless reputation. Ruthless in a prosecutor was a good thing normally, as far as Jess was concerned, but not when directed at Harper.
“He was found with the body in a motel room, and he was covered in blood, Your Honor. A bloody handprint at the scene was identified as belonging to the defendant,” the ADA said. “The People have strong and sufficient evidence against Mr. Harper, and we consider him a flight risk. He’s got no ties here, and given the heinous nature of the crime, he’s a danger to the community. We recommend he be remanded without bail, Your Honor.”
Harper jerked his head up for a moment and stared at the woman but quickly dropped his chin to his chest. It broke Jess’s heart to see him look so defeated.
The public defender appeared disorganized as he fumbled through paperwork. The older man in a rumpled suit looked burned-out and jaded, having seen far too many days as a public defender to be an effective advocate for Harper. Jess knew her first impression of the man wasn’t fair, but she hated to see he
r friend not get a fair shake when he needed it most. Harper would have an uphill battle even if he had the best mouthpiece money could buy.
“I just got assigned this case, Judge, but my client has no priors. And he’s…”
Before the man pleaded his hasty case for bail, a voice came from the back of the room and interrupted the proceedings.
“Please…may I interrupt, Your Honor?”
A tall, extraordinary-looking man with gray hair and riveting dark eyes came forward from the back of the room, dressed in a suit that screamed the word “money.” He walked with fluid grace and the confidence of a wealthy man used to getting his way. And his deep baritone voice exuded poise, enough to make the judge look up.
“And who might you be?” he asked. “Please state your business before this court.”
“My name is Anthony Salvatore. I’m a local business developer in town. My holdings are under the name of Pinnacle Real Estate Corporation.”
When Jess heard the man’s name, she knew exactly who he was, and by the look on the judge’s face, he did, too.
CHAPTER 11
Now she knew why Anthony Salvatore’s Pinnacle Real Estate Corporation had rung a bell when she first saw the reference at Harper’s posh new hangout. The influential man owned half the prime real estate in Chicago, a major player on the local money scene. Chicago’s version of Donald Trump—only with good hair.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” she said under her breath.
As Anthony Salvatore came forward, an officer of the court accompanied him. The uniformed man escorted him from the public seating area behind a wooden railing to the defense table.
“It’s my understanding this young man has not been very forthcoming with his background, no doubt to his own detriment. But I believe he was mistakenly trying to hide his ties to me, to protect what he perceives to be a stellar reputation.” With a charming smile, the man put his arm around Seth. Harper’s head drooped as Salvatore continued, “And despite what the DA’s Office has presented, Seth has very deep ties to this community. He was born and raised here and is the son of a very good friend of mine. A police detective by the name of Max Jenkins. After an unfortunate divorce, Seth’s mother had the boy’s name changed.”
“I know Detective Jenkins.” The judge nodded. “He testified in this court many times. He’s a fine man and a good cop. Did he retire? Where is he these days?”
That name rushed from Jess’s past like a sudden and icy wind that stifled the breath deep in her throat. She was suddenly bombarded by ugly memories. Jess wanted to stand again—to stare into the face of Seth Harper, who’d kept so many secrets from her—but she didn’t think her legs would hold her. Salvatore kept talking, with Jess barely listening.
“Max is indeed a fine man, sir. And he would have been here today if he could.” Salvatore cleared his throat and glanced at Harper. “He’s not in the best of health. I believe the Danny Ray Millstone case took its toll on him. Seth is caring for his father at the Golden Palms Villa, a nursing home facility. So as you can see, this young man has deep connections and obligations to this community.”
The courtroom quieted as the judge’s face turned more somber. “I remember the Millstone case…all too clearly.”
The name Danny Ray Millstone hit Jess like a punch to the gut. She’d blocked that name out of her memory even though it lingered in the dark fringes of her mind. The man who had stolen her life! She shut her eyes, and Millstone’s old house on High Street leached into her brain like a chilling night terror, blocking out the courtroom and everyone in it.
With eyes still closed, she sat back and gripped her hands together, struggling to regain her composure. But as her heart pounded out of control, and a trickle of sweat crawled down her spine, she tried to breathe and found the air stifling and hot. In a rush, the images pummeled her psyche.
She was back there again. In short bursts of memory—like the stark flicker of a strobe light—she was back at the house on High Street. When she recognized the symptoms of a panic attack, she took deep breaths and forced herself to calm down and listen.
Finally, the resonating voice of Salvatore served as a lifeline to bring her back. And she was grateful. Very grateful.
“Quite frankly, if this young man didn’t already have an outstanding father, I’d proudly claim him as my son…if he’d lower his standards for parental material.” Salvatore had deftly changed the subject. And his remark drew a soft chuckle through the courtroom. Even the judge smirked.
“Seth is one of the most trustworthy people I know,” the man continued. “And he is no killer.”
“A nice guy who happened to brutally stab a young woman to death. Let’s not forget the victim here,” the assistant district attorney objected.
“And what about the bloodwork you did on Seth?” Harper’s wealthy advocate glared at Stacy Nichols and hit her with a roadblock she hadn’t seen coming, given the look on her face.
Before the woman had a chance to regain her composure, he added, “I believe you’re withholding the results of that tox screen to keep Seth in jail until you bolster your case.” The man directed his attention to the judge. “This boy was drugged, Your Honor. And Ms. Nichols knows that the bloodwork will cast the shadow of reasonable doubt on her case.”
“Is that true, Ms. Nichols?”
Surprises hit wave after wave. Salvatore had bluffed his way into making the ADA look bad on her own turf. And Jess had no doubt that Humphries had fed him the information he’d gotten from her. The bulletproof Ms. Nichols suddenly looked off her game.
“We ran an extensive tox screen, Your Honor, not the standard analysis. That takes time, and I don’t have the results. And I’m not required to share the findings until the preliminary hearing.”
“Obviously you suspected more than alcohol was at play here, Ms. Nichols, or else you wouldn’t have gotten a warrant to do the blood test in the first place. And the fact you didn’t settle for a standard screening speaks volumes.” The judge took a moment to consider his ruling before he said, “Bail is set for one million dollars.”
The judge assigned a date for Harper’s preliminary hearing and moved on to his next case. Harper was ushered from the courtroom, soon to be released if Salvatore had anything to do with raising bail.
But when Seth turned, he found Jess staring back, a look of shock still on her face. The secret he’d kept from her was now in the open—between the two of them. Harper’s father was the cop who had saved her life. And in the process, Detective Max Jenkins had killed the man who took her from her mother. A good thing in her mind, but in killing the man, Seth’s father had severed the only lifeline to her mother. She’d never found her. And in the wake of her rescue, nightmarish images remained to taint her childhood with dark memories of abuse and torture that no child should have had to endure.
Her skin prickled with Seth’s betrayal. Trust had never come easy for her, but his deception hurt far more than it should. He’d been a friend, or so she thought. Why had he kept his father’s identity from her? And why seek her out in the first place? She had far too many questions and needed time to think.
Jess wasn’t sure she could handle anything Seth had to say—not the way she felt now.
Near the courthouse
A bar had a way of stopping time, luring patrons with the promise of oblivion and dark anonymity. Danny’s Bar and Grill fit the bill and was conveniently located down the street from the courthouse. Utterly numb, Jess stared into a glass of single malt scotch, watching an ice cube melt and give way to gravity. She’d ordered the drink but only nursed it as she sat at the bar alone, losing track of time. Not even the jukebox music or the sounds of laughter from across the dark room had proved to be a distraction from her misery.
Her cell phone vibrated again, but she didn’t have to look to see who was calling. Seth Harper had collided with her life. Or perhaps in hindsight, she realized her life had derailed his—the chicken and the egg argument.
&nb
sp; “Something wrong with the drink?” the young bartender asked as he wiped down the counter in front of her. “I can freshen it up for you.”
She smiled. If only life were that easy. Hate your life, freshen it up.
“No, I’m good. What do I owe you?” she asked. After he told her, she pulled cash from her pocket and tossed it onto the bar, leaving enough for a tip. “Thanks.”
She walked out the door into the dying light of day, squinting until she put on her shades. The bar had been a convenient place to take a break from her world and stop for a while, but her mind didn’t get the message. She pulled out her car keys and headed for the lot where she’d parked the van. She had good reason to wallow in pity like a pig in a mud bath, but she had better things to do.
Harper’s behavior had been highly influenced by his sphincter—no doubt—but the guy still needed her help.
Cook County Jail
The bail hearing for Seth Harper had ended and apparently not gone as planned for one man. Private investigator Luís Dante had been retained to report the outcome to an anonymous man he’d never even seen. Everything had been arranged by phone. He’d been hired with cash delivered by a courier service—an impressive retainer—and he only had the number of a disposable phone to contact his new client. He’d checked into the number when he first got the business, not wanting to be played for a chump. But in Luís’s world, money was money. And as long as he wasn’t breaking the law much, he figured his dealings were business opportunities.
When his client heard about the kid getting bail set, he was pissed. But the bail amount of a million smackers calmed him down until he told the man about the involvement of Anthony Salvatore. Then the shit hit the fan again, as if his client had never seen it coming.
“I figured you’d want me to stick with the kid. I’m outside county lockup now. He’s probably made bail already. But I gotta tell ya, it’s real ugly here.” He took a last drag off his cigarette and flicked the butt to the ground.
