Jessie Black Legal Thrillers Box Set 1

by Larry A Winters

  “Thanks,” she said.

  Novak slurped his frozen drink. By the time he’d sucked the final dregs from the cup, she was grinding her teeth. After that, they sat in blissful silence, punctuated only by an occasional breeze buffeting the car. They watched the house.

  “If we can’t use our phones, how are we supposed to not die of boredom?” Novak said.

  “You were a cop before cell phones existed. You tell me.”

  “You say that like I’m a hundred years old.”

  “How about talking?” Graham said. “You want to talk?”

  “Now you sound like my wife.” His voice was dour, but he cracked a smile. “What do you want to talk about?”

  Graham exhaled. She was feeling fidgety, just as bored as Novak. She needed to focus her mind on something while her eyes continued the dull task of staring at the house.

  “How about our other lead?” she said. “You make any progress finding Jordan Dunn’s teacher-with-benefits?”

  “Not really. I checked in with Eldon. He scoured Jordan’s laptop and came up empty.”

  Graham took a swig from a bottled water. “And we still don’t have her phone.”

  “Nope. Wasn’t in her house. Wasn’t at the crime scene.”

  She looked at him with more interest. “Do you think that’s meaningful?”

  Novak shrugged. “Hard to say.”

  “Well, we should look harder for it. Add that to the To Do List.”

  “Agreed.” Novak yawned. “There are seven male teachers employed by Stevens Academy, and an eighth who was employed but retired last year. None of them was Jordan Dunn’s teacher at the time of her death. I suppose we’ll have to interview all of them. More items on the To Do List.”

  “The nonstop thrills of a homicide cop,” Graham said.

  Even while talking to Novak, Graham focused part of her attention on the house. Now something caught her eye—movement near the side of the building. She leaned forward and peered into the darkness. It was Kaelee Teal, walking from the house to a Mercedes Benz parked in the driveway. There was no attempt at stealth. She strode with purpose, opened the door, and slid behind the wheel. A second later the engine thrummed to life and the headlights went on.

  “She’s on the move,” Graham said, starting their own vehicle.

  “In Daddy’s Benz,” Novak said. “At least I hope it’s her parents’ car. If it’s her car, then I was really deprived as a child.”

  The Mercedes drove past them and down the quiet street. Graham waited until it made a right turn onto a side street, then put their unmarked car in drive and followed.

  “Where do you think she’s going?” Novak said.

  Graham didn’t know, but she was going to find out. They tailed the Mercedes from the suburbs to downtown Philly, keeping two cars between them when possible. Pretty quickly, Kaelee’s destination became apparent. “She’s heading for Stevens Academy.”

  “At 10 PM? Is the school even open at this hour?”

  “I guess we’ll find out.”

  Kaelee parallel parked along the street in front of the school. Graham and Novak circled the block once, then parked a block away and followed on foot, arriving at the school just in time to see her climb the fancy wrought-iron fence and leap gracefully over it.

  “Guess all those private lessons paid off,” Graham whispered.

  Novak smirked. “Cheerleader skills in action.”

  Kaelee had swapped her skirt, blouse, and heels for sneakers, black yoga pants, and a sweater—an ensemble that probably cost just as much, but was eminently preferable for skulduggery. Graham supposed if you’re going to sneak around at night and break into your school, you may as well do it in style.

  “How are your climbing skills?” Graham said.

  Novak stared doubtfully at the fence. “I’ll go around, try to find another way in.”

  “Okay. Call for backup, too.” She faced the fence, then turned back to Novak and added, “and Jessie Black. Let her know.”

  Novak let out a quiet laugh. “You two are tight now, huh?”

  “We girls gotta stick together.”

  “Even though she’s a lawyer?”

  “Nobody’s perfect.”

  She spent a few seconds studying the fence, then took a running jump, hit it about four feet off the ground and clung like a monkey. The wrought iron was thankfully rust-free, but the metal was cold and bit into her bare hands. She grimaced. Her legs swung beneath her and the pull of gravity was more intense than she’d anticipated, but she managed to haul herself up to the top of the fence, swing over, and drop. Her shoes hit the grass on the other side with a silent but ankle-jarring impact. She looked back through the bars to give Novak a reassuring nod, but he was already gone.

  Okay, she thought. Time to find the cheerleader and see what the hell she’s up to. The school grounds were lit sporadically with in-ground spotlights and a few blue safety lights mounted on the side of the school building, but it was still hard to see. She peered into the darkness. Then a sound reached her, quiet but instantly recognizable. The sound of a metal key clicking and scraping against a lock plate as it searched for a keyhole. Graham jogged in the direction of the sound.

  There she was, blonde hair tucked into a neat ponytail, dressed all in black except for the stray designer label catching the ambient light. The world’s most glamorous burglar.

  Apparently, she had a key to the school. Graham pondered that. Maybe a leftover from her days on the cheerleading squad? Her theory was somewhat confirmed when Kaelee pulled the door open and Graham saw that it led to the school’s gymnasium.

  Kaelee slipped inside. Graham debated waiting for backup, then dismissed the idea. Even if this girl turned out to be True_Man, she wasn’t a physical threat. Graham waited a beat, then followed her inside.

  The gym was even darker than the nighttime grounds outside. Graham entered quickly and moved to the side so she wouldn’t be silhouetted by the light. The smell of the gym’s waxy hardwood floor brought a rush of memories, most of them unpleasant. She saw Kaelee head for a door to what she assumed were the locker rooms. She almost laughed. She’d spent a good chunk of her high school years trying to avoid the gym locker room. Kaelee was breaking into one.

  She pursued the girl into the locker room. At first all she saw was darkness. She took a tentative step forward, touching a hand to the cold metal lockers lining one wall in an attempt to keep her bearings.

  The lights went on in a blinding flash. Graham raised a hand to shield her eyes, then realized her mistake as Kaelee charged past her, almost knocking her over. Shit! Graham turned and gave chase. Kaelee pounded halfway across the gym before the lights in the gym came on as well. This time, it wasn’t Kaelee who’d turned them on, but Novak. He stood with two uniformed officers. Kaelee looked at them and stopped running.

  “Do you want to call your lawyer now?” Graham said. “Because this time, you are under arrest.”

  27

  “The locker room?” Jessie held her phone to her face as the taxi sped through the mostly-empty streets, rushing toward the school. “Why?”

  “We don’t know yet.” Graham’s voice sounded tense through the connection. “She must have spotted me or sensed I was there. I don’t know. I never had a chance to see what she sneaked into the locker room to do. She blinded me with the lights and bolted. We’ll have to see what information we can get out of her once her lawyer shows up.” The detective did not sound optimistic.

  “The locker room,” Jessie said again.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Not sure yet. Let me go. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” She ended the call and made another—this time to the mobile number of Clark Harrison, the principal.

  “Hello?” She heard a TV in the background.

  “This is Jessica Black, the assistant DA—”

  “I remember.” The sound of the TV cut off. “Is something wrong?”

  “I’m on my way to the school. T
here’s been a break-in. One of the students tried to access the girls’ locker room, and we believe it may have something to do with the shooting.”

  “What student?”

  Jessie watched the street signs pass her window as the taxi drew closer to the school. “We can talk about that later. Right now, I need you to tell me who has the ability and the legal right to open the lockers.”

  “Oh. Well, I guess I do. I have a master key in my office. It opens all of the lockers in the school.”

  Jessie nodded. “That’s what I was hoping. Can you meet me at the school now?”

  “Whatever you need.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jessie arrived at Stevens Academy a few minutes later. The taxi dropped her off behind two police cruisers. The gate was open. A uniformed cop stood beside it, drinking a Red Bull. Jessie showed him her ID and he let her through.

  Harrison arrived soon after her, looking disheveled in jeans and a sweatshirt. They walked to his office first and she waited patiently while he collected a keyring from his desk drawer. Then they walked together through the darkened hallways toward the gym.

  “Can you tell me who broke into the school?” he said as they walked.

  “Kaelee Teal.”

  “Hmm. Kaelee is, well, I guess you could call her headstrong.”

  “We understand she was recently cut from the cheerleading squad.”

  He shot her an anxious look. “That was based purely on grades. The policy’s been vetted by our legal counsel.”

  Jessie gave him a sideways glance. Did this guy have any mode other than ass-covering? She tried to imagine him in a teaching role and couldn’t quite manage it. “Let’s take it one step at a time,” she said.

  They found a strange assemblage of people in the women’s locker room. There were three uniformed cops, all of them men and one of them, who was sitting on a bench, looked almost young enough to be on a high school sports team himself. Kaelee Teal stood with her back to a row of metal lockers that had been painted a garishly bright green. Graham stood beside her but didn’t speak. Jessie knew they were waiting for the girl’s parents and lawyer to arrive. Novak was checking something on his phone.

  When Jessie entered the room, Kaelee’s back straightened. At first, she wondered if the girl knew who she was—Jessie had watched her meeting with the detectives through one-way glass, but they’d never met—then realized she was probably responding to Harrison’s entrance, not hers. Apparently a roomful of cops didn’t rattle this girl, but the school principal did. The thought was almost comical.

  “What are you doing here, Mr. Harrison?” Kaelee said.

  “Cooperating with the police. I’d recommend you do the same.”

  She shook her head. “I know my rights.”

  Jessie said, “My name is Jessica Black. I’m an assistant district attorney. I understand you’ve invoked your right to counsel. No one will ask you any questions about the shooting until your lawyer arrives.”

  She was hoping this statement would draw a reaction, and it did. “The shooting? What are you talking about? All I did was sneak into the school.”

  “I’m sorry I can’t say more,” Jessie said. “It’s a legal restriction. If you’re willing to waive your right to counsel, then we can talk and hopefully sort all of this out.”

  Kaelee opened her mouth, and for a second, Jessie thought she might do it. But then she closed her mouth and shook her head. The girl was too smart to fall for the usual tactics.

  “Okay,” Jessie said. “That’s fine. We’ll wait for your lawyer.” She turned to Graham. “You searched the room?”

  Graham nodded. “We didn’t find anything.”

  Jessie turned to Harrison. “Which locker is Kaelee’s?”

  Harrison checked a document he’d brought from his office. “214.”

  “Open it.”

  “You can’t do that!” Kaelee said. She positioned herself in front of the locker to block Harrison. Harrison glanced at Jessie, unsure what to do. Jessie looked to Graham. Graham gently took the girl’s arm and forced her to step aside. Kaelee glared at Jessie.

  “In my experience,” Jessie said, “when a suspect sneaks away right after a police interview, it’s usually not for a lawful reason. It’s usually to hide something, to cover something up.”

  “I have rights! You can’t just open my locker!”

  “I’m not going to engage in a legal debate,” Jessie said. She was confident that the law was on her side, and wanted to minimize her exchanges with Kaelee before her lawyer and parents arrived.

  Harrison opened the locker. “What the hell?”

  There was a stuffed teddy bear attached to the inside of the locker door with strips of duct tape, its furry face pressed to the door as if it were looking out through the gaps in the metal slats. Jessie didn’t know what she’d expected to find, but it hadn’t been that. Everyone else seemed equally surprised. For a moment, no one spoke or moved.

  Then Graham put on a pair of latex gloves and stepped forward. She pried the bear loose and studied it under the locker room’s fluorescent lights. “There’s a pinhole camera in the left eye,” she said. “Wireless nanny cam would be my guess.” One of the uniforms held out an evidence bag, and she dropped the bear into it.

  Jessie pivoted on her heel, following what would have been the bear’s line of sight when the locker door was closed. The shower, of course. Jessie shook her head. Seriously?

  “It was just a prank,” Kaelee said. “A little revenge on those bitches for not sticking up for me when I got cut.”

  “Revenge?” Graham seemed to think that over. “What were you going to do? Record nude video of them and upload it to the internet?”

  A small, cruel smile appeared on Kaelee’s lips for a second before she could hide it. “You know what they say. High school is temporary, but the internet is forever. I wanted to teach them a lesson.”

  The natural follow-up question was whether she’d taught her former squad mates the same lesson through Russell Lanford, but no one asked it. They had to wait for her lawyer, or any response she made would be considered tainted, inadmissible evidence.

  “Does that key open all of the lockers?” Jessie asked Harrison. When he nodded, she said, “Please open the other cheerleaders’ lockers. Maybe we’ll find something else.”

  The uniformed officers, detectives, and Kaelee stood in silence as Harrison opened each of the sixteen cheerleaders’ lockers, one by one, with his master key. The process took on a strange rhythm—the click of his key in the lock, the squeak of the hinges, the clang of a metal door flung open. Harrison picked up speed as he went. Within a few minutes, all of the murdered cheerleaders’ lockers were open.

  Jessie walked the length of the locker room and peered inside the open compartments. The girls had died in their cheerleading uniforms, during practice, and their street clothes were still in their lockers, waiting for owners who would never return. Jeans. Skirts. Sweaters. Blouses. Some were neatly folded, others carelessly shoved in. Shoes, too. Looking at these articles of clothing made Jessie’s heart ache. The sight of shirts, pants, boots—it was so mundane. How many of the girls had doubted for a second that they’d be changing back into their clothes right after another routine practice?

  “You didn’t check the lockers as part of the initial investigation?” she asked Graham.

  Graham looked sick. “We were focused on the primary scene. The field. I…. It was a mistake.”

  Jessie let it go. In addition to clothing, she saw phones, some jewelry, purses and bags, other personal items. Each narrow rectangular space was like a snapshot of a life cut short.

  She turned to Harrison. “Which one was Jordan Dunn’s?”

  The principal looked surprised by the question. “Who?”

  “Jordan Dunn,” Jessie said more slowly. “She was one of the cheerleaders.”

  Harrison nodded. “Oh, right. Jordan. I know who she is. A good kid. Model student, really.” He checked
his list and told her the number.

  Jessie and Graham approached the locker. It didn’t look much different than its neighbors. A pile of clothing—Jordan, not surprisingly, was one of the folders rather than stuffers—and a nice pair of shoes. A coat and a book bag.

  Graham, still wearing her latex gloves, reached for the bag. It was a dark red Jansport backpack. Graham unzipped it and began removing its contents. Textbooks, two spiral notebooks, a tin of Altoids mints. Pens and pencils and one of those bulky Texas Instruments graphing calculators.

  “What are you looking for?” Harrison said. “Why are you interested in Jordan?”

  Jessie debated telling him, but decided not to.

  Kaelee Teal wasn’t as tactful. “She was banging a teacher.”

  Harrison’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “Yeah,” Kaelee said. Her voice had an ugly, gloating tone. “How’s your model student now?”

  “You had no idea?” Novak asked Harrison.

  “No.” The principal fumbled with his keyring, looking extremely uncomfortable with the subject matter. “I don’t really hear rumors like that. The students tend to go silent when I walk down the hall.”

  “Any idea who the teacher might be?” Graham said. “Someone with a history of inappropriate behavior, maybe?”

  Harrison’s face flushed red. “No teacher here has a history of inappropriate behavior. That kind of … relationship with a student wouldn’t be tolerated even once. We have very strict rules at Stevens Academy. The safety of the students always comes first!”

  “Gather up everyone’s things,” Jessie said. “Maybe we’ll find something useful.”

  “What about her?” Graham said, indicating Kaelee.

  The girl glared at Jessie. Jessie glared right back. Her parents and lawyer were apparently taking their time getting here. Once they did, full questioning would be in order.

  28

  It was close to midnight when she returned, exhausted, to her apartment. She was bone-tired, and the only thing she wanted to do was stumble into her bedroom and drop onto her bed. It wasn’t until she saw Leary sitting on her couch with a bottle of wine on the coffee table in front of him that she remembered they’d made plans to watch a movie and share a bottle of Cabernet.