The Rogue Element (Scott Priest Book 1)

by John Hardy Bell

  For a moment, all the doubt and paranoia went away. For a moment, I only saw my friend – the man whose hands I would most trust my life to be in. In that moment, I had no choice but to nod my head and say “okay.”

  As the group made its way outside where patrol and CSI units were already gathering, one of the SWAT guys led Arturo’s girlfriend to a waiting female officer. The woman was physically and emotionally ravaged, as I suspected she would be. The SWAT officer handed her off with instructions to conduct a thorough body search before the reading of her Miranda’s.

  As the uniform turned her around to execute the pat down, the woman’s eyes unexpectedly met mine. They were so swollen from crying I was surprised she could see through them, but it was obvious that she could see me just fine.

  “Any needles or other sharp objects?” the officer asked the woman before she stuck her hand in the deep pockets of her soiled overalls.

  She didn’t reply, choosing instead to keep her focus on me.

  “Ma’am? I need to know if you’re carrying anything that’s gonna stick me.”

  The woman’s response was directed at me, and it was one I wasn’t the least bit prepared for.

  “Don’t believe what they tell you, detective. Not a damn word of it.”

  CHAPTER 14

  I managed to slip away from the scene before I could be cornered for an official statement, opting to catch a ride back to HQ with a couple of uniforms. The two young patrol officers, Hicks and D’Agostino, were quiet for the entire drive, as if they were hesitant to speak freely in my presence.

  My thoughts immediately drifted back to the two officers I encountered outside of Marisol’s apartment earlier in the day. They were just as inhospitable as these two, and I began to wonder if someone simply took a piss in the morning pot of coffee or if something else was happening; something related to my meeting with Hitchcock and Fitzgerald.

  “It’s an issue that affects multiple units in the department, from patrol to narcotics to homicide.”

  Hitchcock’s declaration echoed in my head as I watched the officers from the backseat. Were these the kind of guys I was supposed to observe and report on? A couple of no names fresh out of the academy with an unquenchable thirst to clean up the streets and not enough real world experience to understand the depths of their futility?

  Or was I supposed to observe the guys who knew the game? The guys who stood callously over Arturo Sandoval’s dead body as they concocted ways to justify his end?

  More to the point, did it even matter who I was supposed to observe? Was it all just process to prove to the brass that something was being done to clean up the problem they were all convinced existed? Did it matter that much more that a cop with the Priest last name was involved in that clean up?

  A million other questions followed these, not one of them containing anything approaching a discernible answer. All I knew for sure as we made the insufferably long drive was that I wanted to get away from these assholes Hicks and D’Agostino as quickly as I could.

  *****

  I jumped in my own cruiser the moment I got back to HQ, knowing that I was dangerously close to having the department hounds put on my trail. As far as I was concerned, the inquest into Arturo’s shooting meant nothing. They could ask all the questions they wanted. I wasn’t interested in corroborating Kimball’s version of events. He had his army of frat brothers to do that. The only thing that mattered to me was that my suspect was dead, and he took any real hope of closing Marisol’s case with him.

  I hit the street with no particular destination in mind. I’d considered paying a visit to Marisol’s daughters, but I was certain they would mistake my news as a sign of victory, and the last thing I wanted was some kind of hollow praise for a job well done. In my mind, the job was far from done.

  I’d barely gotten a mile away from HQ when my cell phone began ringing. The hounds were already sniffing. I’d had every intention of ignoring the calls, but as soon as my phone stopped ringing, it started up again. After the fifth cycle of this, I finally took it out of my pocket. The lone name I saw on the message screen was not the one I was expecting.

  I redialed Kyle McKenna’s number with a surprising lack of hesitation. She answered on the first ring, her heavy breathing making it evident that she’d sprinted to the phone in order to do so.

  “I’ve been trying like crazy to reach you.”

  “And I was trying like crazy to avoid you. Guess we know who succeeded.”

  “What just happened?”

  “With what?”

  “Arturo.”

  “Since when are you on a first name basis with my suspect?”

  “Since he became one of the most reliable confidential sources I’ve ever had.”

  The only thing that surprised me about Kyle’s statement was my lack of surprise in hearing it. “Your reliable confidential source is dead.”

  “I’m well aware of that.”

  “Are you also aware that he was the prime suspect in Marisol’s murder?”

  “Is this how the DPD is dealing with murder suspects now?”

  I sighed heavily into the phone. “Somebody really needs to confiscate your police scanner.”

  “We need to talk, Scott.”

  “We are talking, Kyle.”

  “In person, and away from the prying ears of your department cell phone.”

  At least I wasn’t the only one who was paranoid. “I’m three blocks away from the City Perk Café.”

  “I’ll meet you there in ten.”

  CHAPTER 15

  I had just sat two large coffees on the far back table I’d scoped out when Kyle walked up.

  “What the hell?”

  “Nice to see you too, dear,” I replied with a limp smile. “I got your favorite. Three creams, no sugar.”

  “This is definitely not the time.” The scowl on her face affirmed the seriousness of her verbal warning.

  I pulled out her chair before sitting in my own. “What do you want me to tell you? The shit got away from us.”

  “The shit got away from you? Is that the official explanation?”

  “I’m sure it will be after the quote ends up in your paper.”

  Kyle shook her head. “You can deflect with the best of them, I’ll give you that.”

  “Look, you’re nowhere near as pissed off about this as I am, okay?”

  “Arturo was a friend, so I seriously doubt that.”

  “You need to choose your friends a bit more carefully.”

  “And you need to tell me why he’s dead.”

  “Get a grip, Kyle. Even if I wanted to tell you, I couldn’t. You’ve been around long enough to know that.”

  “And you’ve been around me long enough to know that I have an extremely low tolerance for bullshit.”

  “As do I. So why don’t you cut to the chase and tell me why we’re sitting here.”

  Kyle took a long drink of coffee in an apparent effort to steady herself. “It’s really simple. Arturo knew this was going to happen.”

  “Knew what was going to happen?”

  “He knew that the police were going to kill him.”

  “And he told you this?” I asked in the calmest voice I could summon.

  “Last week.”

  “Did he also tell you that he planned to shoot a homicide detective who simply wanted to ask him a few questions? Because that’s exactly what he tried to do to my partner.”

  Kyle rolled her eyes. “Of course he didn’t tell me that.”

  “Right. Then maybe you should wait to hear the entire story before you start hurling accusations around.”

  “Well, until you see fit to tell me the entire story, I only have his, and it didn’t involve any plans to gun down your partner.”

  “How is it that you know his story at all?”

  For the first time since the conversation began, Kyle hesitated. “He was the source of my information pertaining to Marisol and Oliver Brandt.”

  I�
��d had a sinking feeling that she was going to say that, though hearing the words out loud felt a whole lot worse. “Go on.”

  “The two of them had become close from their time working in Brandt’s home.”

  “How close?”

  “If you’re asking whether or not there was a romantic relationship, I don’t have an answer for that. All I know is that they confided in each other quite a bit. In turn, Arturo confided in me.”

  “About what?”

  “His affair with Bethany Brandt.”

  I nearly choked on the sip of coffee I had just taken. “Affair?”

  “That’s what this whole thing was about, Scott. The phone conversation that Marisol overheard was between Arturo and Oliver Brandt.”

  “Let me guess, Brandt knew about the affair and threatened to kill Arturo if he didn’t end it.”

  “According to Arturo, the threat wasn’t quite that explicit, but it was definitely implied.”

  “And Marisol was subsequently fired because she overheard this implied threat.”

  “That’s right. When Marisol confronted Arturo about what she’d heard, he admitted everything, including his concern that they would now both be targeted by Brandt because of it.”

  “When did he tell you all of this?”

  “Last week after my story ran about Brandt possibly being on the telephone with Detective Walter Graham the moment he was shot.”

  “You mean Arturo just called you out of the blue?”

  “That’s usually how it works with confidential sources.”

  “So why did he choose you to tell all of this to?”

  “He had been following my investigation of Brandt’s connection to Detective Graham and he thought he could offer some useful insights into the man’s character.”

  “I see. So following your line of thinking, both Marisol and Arturo were killed by Brandt in order to keep his wife’s affair a secret. Does that about sum it up?”

  Kyle sat back in her chair and shook her head, clearly irritated by the level of sarcasm in my voice. “I can see I’m wasting my time here. My fault for not knowing better.”

  “I’m open to anything, Kyle. You only need to show me proof.”

  “Where is your proof that Arturo killed Marisol?”

  “I imagine most of it will come through a DNA swab. But for now, I have Arturo on surveillance camera entering a hotel suite with Marisol two hours before her body was found there.”

  “And?”

  “The .357 Mag casings that Arturo tried to fill Detective Kimball’s chest with.”

  Kyle sighed. “The only thing the former proves is that he and Marisol were possibly sleeping together. The only thing the latter proves is that Arturo believed you guys were coming to make good on Brandt’s threat.”

  Now I was the one shaking my head. “You’re right, Kyle. You are wasting your time here. And now you’re wasting mine too.”

  “You were just at the scene of an officer-involved shooting, which means you should probably be off somewhere giving a statement, but you’re here instead. So you obviously thought I had something meaningful to say.”

  “I did think that, until you actually started talking.”

  “A company man through and through.”

  “I am, until you show me proof that I shouldn’t be.”

  Kyle mumbled something indecipherable as she gathered her coffee and messenger bag and stood up.

  I put my hand on her forearm before she could walk away. “Show me proof.”

  “Have a nice day, detective,” she responded as she tried to wiggle away from my grip. I responded by tightening it.

  “I’m asking you to show me proof.”

  The look in my eyes stopped her cold. “You’re serious.”

  I held her stare as I released her arm.

  She nodded as she pushed her chair in.

  “As far as everything we’ve talked about here?” I asked as she started to walk away.

  “It doesn’t leave this table,” she assured me.

  I had no good reason to believe her. In fact, I had every reason in the world not to believe her.

  But right now there were simply no better options.

  CHAPTER 16

  I walked back to the car with my sights set on another aimless trip when another cell phone call came through. This time I knew I couldn’t ignore it.

  “Hello Lieutenant Hitchcock.”

  “What’s going on, Scott? Nate is climbing up the goddamn walls over here because he can’t find you.”

  “I needed a few minutes to clear my mind, sir.”

  “Clear mind or not, you need to get back here. Everyone who was at the Sandoval scene is being questioned, and you’re the only one unaccounted for.”

  “How much do you know about what happened?”

  “Only what Commander Brandt has told me. But from what I’ve gathered from the other statements, it all seems to line up.”

  “Great, so why do you need me?”

  “I don’t make procedure, Scott. Just make yourself seen, ASAP.”

  “Okay,” I said to a dead line.

  *****

  I entered the Homicide bureau to the sight of Hitchcock and Brandt huddled outside the lieutenant’s office. From what I could tell, Brandt was doing all the talking. Both men turned to look at me as I sat down at my desk. Hitchcock acknowledged me with a nod, Brandt with a glare.

  When they finished, Hitchcock opened his office door and went inside. The door remained open just long enough for me to spot Kimball sitting in the exact same chair I had sat in just a few hours earlier. It was clear that his nerves were no less frayed than mine had been. Hitchcock glanced at me one more time before closing the door.

  “Hell of a time for a disappearing act.”

  I heard Commander Brandt’s voice before I realized that he had walked up to my desk. A cold smile lined his face. “The boys and I were starting to worry that you’d jumped ship.”

  I resisted the urge to tell him and his boys exactly where they could go. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Brandt’s smile grew. “Of course you don’t, because that’s not the kind of thing you’d do.”

  “No offense, but how would you know the first thing about what I’d do?”

  “Because I knew your father. I knew what kind of cop he was, what kind of man he was. And I knew he raised you and your brother to be the exact same way.”

  This was the second time in two conversations that he had brought up my father and brother, and I was suddenly very curious to know why. “How did you know my brother?”

  “Through the narc unit, the same as your father. He came in right around the time Carl was leaving. It was a shame your old man couldn’t have stayed on longer. Those two would have made a hell of a duo.”

  “Were you around when Matt was killed?”

  Brandt’s frigid smile suddenly went away. “It happened just after I’d joined up with SWAT. I sure as hell wish I had been around. Maybe I could have done something to stop it.”

  I bristled at the comment.

  “Sorry, Scott. I know it’s still a sensitive subject.”

  “My fault. Never should have brought it up.”

  “No, I’m actually glad you did.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I always admired the way the two of them handled their business on the street, your father especially. Some of the up and comers around here could learn a lot from him. I certainly did.”

  I was deathly afraid of where this was going. Unfortunately, that fear wasn’t enough to prevent my next question. “What exactly did you learn from my dad?”

  Brandt helped himself to a seat at Kimball’s desk. He wheeled the chair close to me before he spoke. “Aside from the obvious stuff about loyalty to the shield, the dangers of bringing the job home, or home to the job, he taught me the importance of knowing when to toe the line and when not to. There are situations we encounter out there that require us to ma
ke choices. Some choices are easy. Some are difficult. Some threaten to go against the fabric of everything we think we stand for. Whatever that choice is, it’s always important to remember that the decision doesn’t just affect you. It affects everyone around you. In the case of a police officer, that could mean your partner, your unit, or the entire department.” He paused as he moved his chair closer to me.

  “Your father and brother worked the toughest assignment that a cop can work. They saw things out there every day that the average person couldn’t begin to imagine. And they dealt with it. They dealt with it damn well, in fact. They also had to make some tough choices along the way. A lot of times those choices went against their personal code of ethics. But out here it’s not always about your personal code of ethics. It’s about getting the job done. It’s about making sure the guys in your unit get home safely to their families at night. It’s about looking out for this shield and making sure nothing stains it. God knows there are plenty of people out there right now trying to stain this shield. That bitch Kyle McKenna immediately comes to mind. And she’s probably going to double her efforts with this whole Sandoval situation. We can’t let that happen, Scott. That means we have to stand together on this thing. No matter what you may think, Kimball is your partner. From what he’s told me, he’s also your friend. Make the right choice for your friend. Prove to people that the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  I sat back in my chair and smiled; a vain attempt at suppressing my desire to slam his pasty, bloated face against the edge of the desk. “I don’t have anything to prove commander, to you or anyone else. And don’t ever compare yourself to my father or brother again.”

  Brandt’s eyes were expressionless as he wheeled the chair back to Kimball’s desk and stood up. “Same goes for you, detective.”

  I ignored the dig, even though it was probably the single hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. “One more thing. I wouldn’t call Kyle McKenna a bitch if I were you. You don’t want to make her more upset than she already is.”