Blind Retribution

by K. T. Roberts

  “Yes, I do, and I also know how much you hated Jeffrey,” Cory fired back. “You knew Helen wasn’t allowed to drive his car, so why wouldn’t you have set those bombs to go off to get him out of the way?”

  Jack appeared shocked by Cory’s words, and when the reality finally hit, he lowered his head down onto the table and sobbed, releasing the unshed tears he’d held in too long. Cory’s anger turned to pity, but he could not let up, not if Jack was guilty. He needed to know that right now. When Jack finally raised his head to look up at Cory, the pain in his eyes ran deep. “I promise,” he begged, “I will never lie to you again.” Cory handed him his handkerchief. “C’mon, man, we’re family,” Jack’s tormented voice blurted out. “Everyone makes foolish mistakes, and I can’t bear to think that I’ve lost you too.” Cory couldn’t help but wonder if this was how the scene with Helen had played out when Jack found out she was leaving. Jack dried his tears while Cory stared in silence.

  “Did you set those bombs?” Cory asked as though pleading a case in a court of law.

  “Christ, no!”

  “Did you set them intending to kill Jeffrey, and then when Helen walked out and got into the car, you couldn’t warn her in enough time? Is that what happened?”

  “No.” Jack’s fist pounded the table. “No, no, no.” His shoulders shuddered. “Did I drive past her house? Yes, I did. Why? Because I thought I could convince her to stay with me.”

  His hands rifled through his hair. “Why didn’t I admit that to you? Because I knew you’d tell me what an ass I was, and you’d be right.” He blew his nose. “And all that shit about how they claim I threatened to kill her, I swear I did not. It was exactly as I told you it was.” He held up his hand. “But dammit, I don’t know how I’m going to prove it.”

  Saddened by Jack’s display of emotion, Cory watched his breakdown, the guilt raging in his own gut. He’d never seen Jack so upset before, and he automatically sat down next to him.

  “I’m not going anywhere, bud.” He sighed and allowed Jack to release his pent-up regrets.

  Cory walked back to the parking lot worried about Jack and why he was lying so much. Had he killed Helen?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Rossini?” Max said into the phone when he called her the, her voice still frosty from his outburst and abrupt call disconnection the other day. He’d not given her a chance to say anything. Still, she wished she hadn’t missed him so much.

  “I’ve discovered some interesting facts about the Barrett case I think you need to know. I’m on my way over.”

  “I’m busy right now.”

  “Fine, Detective. If you’d rather not know about it, I can continue doing my own thing, but don’t come crying to me when it blows up in your face.” He clicked off the call abruptly, deciding Max Turner was the most stubborn woman he’d ever met. He smiled when his phone rang so quickly after disconnecting and her name flashed on the screen.

  “Dammit, Cory, you didn’t give me a chance to tell you what time I would be free. Weren’t you taught that it’s rude to hang up on people? Not to mention it’s immature.”

  “Then what time is good for you? Is that mature enough for you, Detective?”

  “Listen, Cory, you’ve told me other things about this investigation that proved to be wishful thinking on your part. If this proves to be viable and I’ve missed something, you’ll have my undivided attention.”

  “Then when can I see you?” he asked.

  “Give me an hour.” They disconnected the call, at the same time.

  Cory was smiling to himself afterward. It was obvious Max Turner didn’t like being on the receiving end of impatience. The truth was, she had every right to be mad at him, but if her anger included any expectation of him stopping his investigation because they’d had dinner, she was sadly mistaken. He didn’t need any more female grief. He’d already had more than his share.

  Max twisted her mouth and chewed on the inside of her lips, curious about what Cory had found. Had she rushed to judgment too quickly on Jack’s guilt? No, dammit, she hadn’t. When had she become so insecure about her arrests? Max blew out a frustrated breath. This guy was doing a number on her heart. Allowing that to happen was a big mistake. She had work to do and couldn’t afford to let anyone or anything get in the way of solving her case. She raised a dismissive shoulder, set the timer on her phone for an hour, and then delved back into her research until her alarm alerted her that Cory would be in her office shortly.

  Nervously closing the file folder, Max shoved it into her drawer, then raced to the restroom to primp. Swells of nervousness waved in her stomach after not seeing or hearing from him since they’d sounded off on one another. In hindsight, she knew her tone the other day was uncalled for, but once the words were out, it was too late. Cory had every right to continue his investigation, but his harsh words were uncalled for too. Julie’s suggestion came to mind. She’d wait to see how he acted before inviting him to dinner.

  Applying a coat of gloss to her plump lips, she licked off the taste of cherry and remembered Cory’s comment about her tasting like a bowlful of cherries. Fluffing her hair, she took one last critical look at herself in the mirror and headed back to her desk. That’s when she heard his manly laugh—one of the many things she liked about him. She could see Riley nodding in her direction, and Cory turned to look. Her stomach flipped over at the sight of him. He was tall and masculine with a tight body that didn’t have an ounce of fat. This man did things to her mind no other man could claim, and she wasn’t quite sure why. Well, that wasn’t quite true—of course she knew. He was a turn-on, handsome, he smelled good, and just being near him gave her butterflies. Was she just too damned lonely, or was her mind playing tricks on her, telling her they might actually be good together?

  Max heaved one more breath to quell the anxiety attacking her insides and walked up behind him, warning herself about combining sentimentality and business. It was too easy to throw caution to the wind where he was concerned. It wasn’t that she couldn’t have a life and still work, just not if it jeopardized her cases.

  Max wasn’t quite sure how to act around Cory after that last set of calls. Should she show that she was happy to see him, or treat him like anyone else who had an appointment? Or should she be mad he’d hung up on her? She shook her head, unable to believe she was acting like a schoolgirl with him, questioning his motives, her motives. It was enough to give her a full-blown headache.

  Cory smiled when he saw her, and her heart melted. She extended her hand in greeting and told herself to act normal. Damn him was all that came to mind.

  The trio entered the interview room, each taking a seat around the Formica table.

  “So what do you have that we don’t?” she asked.

  “A lot of coincidences that don’t add up—maybe too many.”

  “Okay, shoot,” Riley said, and pulled out his pad.

  “I went to the hospital to snoop around. While I was in the cafeteria, I overheard two nurses conversing about a suspicious transplant that involved Senator Stansbury’s daughter.” Max’s brows rose. Cory filled them in on the details about his findings. “Then at their suggestion, I went to see the hospital administrator to converse with her about the rumors, but she told me she had nothing to do with transplant patients and asked her secretary to schedule an appointment for me with the organ procurement and transplantation coordinator, a Melanie Chambers. But the interesting thing about my meeting with the administrator is she received a call and said she needed to take it. After she greeted the caller, she gasped, grabbed her coat, and ran out of the office. Before rushing off, she told her secretary something. She also showed signs of disbelief, then the administrator rushed into the elevator. It may not be anything, but it’s worth checking. I asked the secretary about what happened, but she wouldn’t tell me. I could tell she’d been crying, but she put on a professional face and told me Morrison was fine.”

  “Interesting. So whe
n are you meeting with this Chambers woman?” she asked.

  “Unfortunately, she didn’t have anything available until October twenty-eighth.”

  “She’s a busy woman.”

  “So it would seem.” Remembering the photographs, Cory smiled. “I’ve saved the best for last,” he said, holding up the photographs from Senator Stansbury’s office.

  “Holy crap,” Max exclaimed, “where did you get these?”

  “I went to see the senator at her Midtown location to ask if she was aware of the rumors I’d heard about her daughter’s transplant.

  All I had to say to the secretary was that I was investigating her daughter’s transplant and her finger was on the buzzer to her boss. But the senator had come rushing out of her office with something that needed immediate attention anyway. When I told her why I was there, she sent me to her office to wait. Needless to say, I snooped around.” Max’s eyes widened in surprise, but he continued anyway. “I found these in an open drawer sitting right on top.” Cory watched their expressions as they flipped through one picture after another. Leaning over to see which photograph they seemed to be lingering on, he tapped the edge of the photo.

  “Now, I ask you, do you see how close these two are wrapped in each other’s arms? And feast your eyes on those loving smiles. What does that tell you?” His head dipped as he arched his brow. “For sure, it’s this photo that has me more than convinced there’s more going on with this case than just Helen Barrett’s death.” Cory leaned back in the chair, feeling smug about his find.

  “I can’t believe you stole these photos from her desk drawer!”

  “Hey, it was open and they were out in plain sight. That’s allowed if it relates to my case, isn’t it?”

  “Oh my God, Cory,” she shrieked. “That’s only if you’re a detective.” She lowered her voice. “That was definitely a gutsy move. These probably won’t be admissible in court given the way they were obtained.”

  He shrugged. “So we’ll find another way to prove it.”

  Max was having difficulty fathoming that Cory was gutsy enough to do something like steal the photos. “Okay, go on.”

  “Anyway, I pressed on a little harder and asked how long she’d known Barrett, and she still lied. She said they’d just met as a result of her daughter’s surgery, but if you’ll notice in this particular picture,” he said, removing one from the pile, “the date stamp is June 2011, which proves she was lying. She knew him prior to her daughter’s surgery.” Cory chuckled. “When she walked behind her desk and noticed the photographs were gone from her opened drawer, her entire demeanor changed, and it was obvious she was shaken. She knew I had the goods on her. I didn’t expect her to say ‘You stole the photographs of me and my lover.’ But they clearly are romantically involved, and she’s definitely lying. My questions remain: What is being hidden about her daughter’s transplant, and why is she lying about it and her relationship with Barrett?”

  “Both good questions,” Max said and left Riley to scrutinize the photo, but the image spoke for itself. “You’re right, they’re cuddling,” she said, “and it’s obvious they’re on a boat.” Max fired up her computer and keyed in something. “Okay, this appears to be noteworthy. The senator’s reelection is this year. That means, if this picture was taken in June of 2011, that’s the year she was elected to office.”

  Riley put the photo down. “You’re right, Cory. This woman is definitely standing a lot closer than a candidate would. They look like they’re ready to jump each other’s bones.”

  Cory continued. “Further into our conversation, her cheeks flushed, and she tried to hide it by bending down to pull a file out from her drawer. She stumbled over her words, unable to focus on anything except getting away from me as fast as she could.”

  Deep wrinkles creased Max’s forehead. “Maybe she was afraid if she told you she had been seeing him, it would raise stronger suspicions about the gossip.”

  “But she knew I was aware of the truth. Why lie?”

  “So you think she’s responsible for Helen Barrett’s death?” Max said, pushing back in her chair.

  Cory nodded. “It wouldn’t be the first time two lovers were in cahoots and wiped out the third party.”

  “What else did you find?”

  “Nothing else at the moment.” Cory slid his teeth over his bottom lip. “Are you going to investigate this further or not?”

  “Yeah, we’ll check it out.” Max could tell by Cory’s expression he didn’t like her lack of enthusiasm.

  “Look, you can be pissed at me all you want, but I’m giving you valuable leads that might be crucial to your investigation and you’re acting nonchalant?” he fired at her.

  “And we’re very appreciative. I said we’d check it out, and we will.”

  “I guess I expected a bit more of a reaction from you. Seriously, if you think I’m wasting your time, I can go directly to Jack’s attorney instead.”

  “You’re certainly entitled to go wherever you think is appropriate, Cory. Thank you for your time. I appreciate your help, and yes, we will investigate it.”

  Cory stood. “I don’t understand why you don’t think Jeffrey had anything to do with his wife’s murder.”

  “We’ll get back to you. Thanks for stopping by.” She watched Cory’s determined walk out of the office. She knew he was pissed, but she brushed it off because she was just as annoyed with him as he was with her. What was even more frustrating was how she’d missed the relationship between the senator and Jeffrey—a major oversight on her part. Maybe she was letting her feelings with Cory interfere with her investigation.

  “It’s hard to believe Barrett was involved with another woman after the way he took his wife’s death,” she said to Riley.

  Riley offered her solace. “Maybe Barrett’s a very good actor. Or maybe it’s just a photograph that is being misconstrued. But Cory’s right. Why lie about it? I’m sure we’re going to find out a whole host of things we never expected. We’re just starting our investigation, and besides, shit happens.”

  “And, on that note, let’s call it a night and use what little time we have left of the weekend.”

  “I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Riley said.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “How about you keep investigating Barrett and the senator,” Max said as their last assignment Sunday evening, “while I talk to the boss. See what else you can find out. I want to get the good doctor in here for questioning to find out what he didn’t tell me.” She tapped her finger against her mouth. “If Barrett was having an affair with her during his marriage, I’ll bet the dirt-bag is still screwing the woman.”

  “No doubt, Max,” Riley said watching as she walked away.

  Twenty minutes later, Max was back and noticed Riley holding a magnifying glass over the top of one of the photographs.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I want to get a closer look at this photo. There’s no doubt they’re on a boat.” He squinted and adjusted the magnifying glass midway. “Aha!” he said. “Wait a minute . . . it looks like there’s another boat in the background behind them.”

  “What?” Max asked.

  “Take a look for yourself.” Riley held the magnifying glass over the photograph.

  “I see what you mean.”

  “I’m going to find out more about whose yacht that is in the background.” He sat down at the computer and typed in the name of the yacht. “Well, I’ll be a son of a bitch,” he said. “Mister’s Mistress is owned by none other than Jeffrey Barrett.”

  “Even the name screams affair. As soon as I return from talking to the boss,” Max said, “we can start our suspect board. Evidence is building up pretty rapidly now, and I don’t want to sidestep anything important.”

  “Then while you’re talking to the boss, I’m going to get a list of marinas near their homes and visit to see where they dock their yachts.”

  “I’ll be anxious to hear what you’ve f
ound. You know, Riley,” Max said, “we may be getting ahead of ourselves, but if the senator is the jilted lover, isn’t it possible she hired someone to plant those explosives hoping to kill the doctor? There’s too many questionable things at play here,” she said, shaking her head. “All right. See you in a little while.”

  After leaving the lieutenant’s office, Max’s quickened pace was exaggerated by her frustration at missing something that was right in front of her nose. Her own worst enemy, Max set an often too-high standard for herself. If it was true that Barrett was having an affair with the senator after his pathetic display of grief, she was really going to be pissed.

  Riley had a smug expression on his face when he walked back to his desk. “Barrett’s a member of the Bayside Country Club and Marina. It’s an exclusive private club, and that’s where he docks his yacht.”

  “Is the senator a member?” Riley shook his head. “Do they allow outsiders to dock their yachts there?”

  “The attendant said they don’t. It’s only for members of the club. So I checked out the other marinas close by, and she’s docked at The Peninsula, a few miles up the road.”

  “Now, isn’t that interesting. She’s not in the same club, yet they met at sea, maybe for a party. He anchors his yacht and climbs into hers?” Max paced in short succinct steps while thinking. “Refresh my memory. Were there any other boats besides Barrett’s and the boat they were standing on?”

  “Not that I could see in that photograph.”

  “Regardless, Cory’s right about her hiding something. It may turn out to be something completely innocent, but it deserves our attention.” Max rubbed her hands over her chin, thankful Cory had discovered another aspect of the case. The more she thought about it, the more she realized the things Cory had revealed about the case had given new meaning to the term bedside manner, but she still wasn’t sure how this Valerie Morrison’s unexplained departure fit into the scope of things. She decided it might be worth pursuing.