“Whichever way ends this quickly, Jim. No injuries, if possible.”
Noones grabbed the bullhorn and flipped the switch, speaking directly to the suspects.
“This is Captain Noones of the Wilkesbury Police Department. I’d like to open communications with you. Please use the number on the display from your last call. It will come directly to me.”
Jake waited beside Noones. The rest of the department scattered around the block, circling the bank. Jake looked around. Oh yes, now the excitement begins. He spotted the reporters for Channels 8, 3, and 61 with their live cams. Their helicopters hovered overhead, offering a dramatic view of the incident. It gave the suspects the whole view as well, including tactical positions, and the number of responding officers. The information age made these events more difficult to manage, Jake thought, endangering countless lives.
“Have the schools been locked down?” Noones asked Longo.
“Yes, first thing.”
“Good. My kid’s at Kennedy,” Noones said.
“Mine too,” Longo responded.
“Mine are at Resurrection and Lord of the Cross, thank God,” Louie said.
Jake started to say, ‘Still in the area,’ then changed his mind; why worry Louie. He caught movement at the entrance to the bank. “Here we go.”
Noones grabbed his bullhorn, waited. The gunman used the bank manager as a shield.
“Send over one unarmed officer only. Take the letter I’ve written with what we need. We don’t need or want any heroes today. If our demands are met, everyone will go home healthy, understood?”
The suspect stood six feet tall. He wore his black hair spiked on top, a red streak running down the center. When he turned, Jake saw a long braided tail touching his shoulder blades. So eighties, he thought. Dressed all in black, even his wallet, which stuck out from his back pocket on a chain; he also wore black gloves despite this being a warm day in April. His gun hand shook—not a comforting sign in Jake’s opinion. He looked to be in his twenties, a solid hundred-eighty. He wore mirrored sunglasses. His body was marked with a tattooed cross and a skull in the middle of his bicep, on his right arm. Jake memorized every detail for his report.
“Noones, who do you want to send over there?” Lieutenant Longo asked.
“Why don’t I go?” Jake spoke up.
“Any objections, Nick?”
“None,” Lieutenant Longo said.
“No heroics,” said Louie.
“Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll be back before you know it.” Jake grinned.
“We’re sending over Detective Carrington. He’s unarmed. In good faith, you need to release one of the hostages,” Jim Noones said.
“Just send the detective over for the letter,” the gunman replied.
“Is anyone hurt?” Noones asked.
“We’ll talk after you read the letter.”
“Okay, he’s starting over now,” Noones replied.
They purposely didn’t use Jake’s rank. Sweat poured down Jake’s back in buckets as he got closer to the gunman. The gunman sweated just as much. It poured into his eyes. Jake wondered how the guy could see. He noticed that the gunman’s hand shook more than before as he approached him. The bank manager looked petrified, Jake observed, as he held his hands up and away from his body as he approached. If things went wrong, his ankle holster—if he could get to it—would provide necessary protection. ‘Dear Lord, let’s not make today my day to die. Jake stopped four feet from the gunmen.
“Okay, that’s far enough. I’m going back into the bank with this woman here. When I reach the door, you can bend down and pick up the letter. But not before I reach the door. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He whispered in the manager’s ear, started backing up with her.
When they reached the door, Jake bent down and picked up the letter. He stood and started backing up himself. The door to the bank opened; the gunman stepped inside, pushing the bank manager out. Jake ran forward to grab her, and rushed her to safety.
“Well,” Jake said when they reached the command post. The woman started crying. Jake hoped no one could hear how fast and hard his heartbeat pounded in his chest.
“I’m Lieutenant Longo,” Nick said. “You need to pull yourself together right now so we can help the others. What’s your name?”
“Sorry, it’s Adeline Smith,” she replied, wiping her face.
“Adeline, we need to know exactly how many people are in there. Is anyone hurt? How many gunmen are there? Where are they located?” Longo shot questions at her.
Jake’s opinion of her went up as she composed herself.
“There are two tellers behind the counter. The assistant manager’s at the counter with the second gunman, at least he was when I came out. There are only two gunmen, three customers…oh; one was shot in the leg. He’s a regular customer. Officer Tommy Sullivan. I don’t think it’s bad. We were able to stop the bleeding by tying it off with a ribbon.” Jake appreciated how she tried to control her shaking.
“Okay, Adeline, you did great. Go with these detectives. We’re going to keep you segregated from the press until this is over. Are you going be okay?” Nick asked.
“Yes. Is everyone in there going to be okay?”
“We hope so. These detectives will take your statement.”
Louie started to escort her to the ambulance. Adeline leaned over and thanked Jake for helping her. “No problem. You sure you’re okay? The EMT’s are going to check you anyway, to be sure.”
“Really, I’ll be fine. I’m worried about the others. If I knew they were going to let me go, I would’ve let someone else go out. He put a gun to my head…I thought I was a goner.” She finished her statement, then leaned over and threw up on the spot.
Jake motioned for the EMT. Louie took her statement, handed her off to a patrolman and then headed back to the command post.
“How is she?” Nick asked.
“She’ll be fine. The gun to the head freaked her out,” Jake said.
“That would do it.”
“What do they want?” Jake asked.
Louie added a question of his own. “Did they call Noones yet?”
“Yes. They want the usual. You know,” Nick replied to both.
“Yeah, I don’t know why people think they can get away with it today,” Jake said. Everyone’s radios crackled to life.
It seemed the Channel 8 News chopper had picked up a hot pursuit on Route 8, heading from Wilkesbury to Bridgeport. They didn’t know if it was connected to the bank robbery. The State Police had tried to pull the car over on a routine check when it took off. They were now closing down entrance ramps, rerouting any cars not involved in the pursuit. Never a dull moment in this job, thought Jake, shaking his head.
After seven long hours, the bank robbery suspects gave themselves up. Both were recently laid off. They’d run out of funds, with no job prospects in their future. They were running out of food to feed their families. After a night of drinking, they came up with this bright idea, not thinking it all the way through.
The pursuit on Route 8 ended quickly. It seemed the kid panicked when the police tried to pull him over. He had over an ounce of pot on him. Instead of throwing it out the window and playing it cool, he’d just given himself a record and a tough future.
Louie reminded him again about the party for Marisa the following week.
“What, do I look like I have no memory?”
“No, Marisa said to remind you. I guess Gigi keeps asking if you’re coming.” Louie laughed.
“Great. The only women interested in me are children and the elderly,” Jake moaned.
“Well, be nice. You can crush a girl for life if you don’t handle it right.”
“You handle it.”
“No, you can do it, just let her down gently. It’s no big deal.”
“Okay, for Marisa.” Jake changed the subject. “Does Sophia want me to bring anything?”
“No, we’re
all set. You know Sophia. She’s already hired the band and the bartender. Good thing I’ve got a job.”
“Are you kidding? You get into this as much as Sophia. You don’t fool me.”
“You’re right, I love it.”
Jake dropped Louie off at his house before he headed home.
*
The rest of their week remained pretty quiet. They fell into the routine of murder—following up with witnesses, the lab, and the ME.
The next day, Louie ran the airlines to see if the ex-husband or the new wife were in town on the weekend of April sixteenth, while Jake called Chief Beau Taylor in Neptune, Florida back.
Jake got him on the first try. “Hi Chief. This is Jake Carrington in Wilkesbury, Connecticut again. How are you today?”
“I’m fine, Jake. Please call me Beau. How did your situation turn out?” Jake knew he must have heard the call go out on the armed robbery.
“We got the guys. The officer who got shot’s doing great. Thanks for asking.”
“Good. Okay, I checked on Jeffrey Adams and his lovely new bride Lola. I do need to tell you—what a mouth on that one, and I don’t mean that in a nice way.” Beau laughed. “She wasn’t happy to see me.”
“No?”
“No. She started off telling me she wasn’t going talk to me without an attorney before I even explained why I was there. Now, you know, that just gets my eye a-twitching. Y’all understand my meaning, Connecticut?”
“I do, Chief. Did she know about the murder?”
“She said how she got a call about the ex-wife’s murder. She just knew someone would come there bothering them with questions. I pointed out Mrs. Adams was probably not happy about being dead, either.”
Jake couldn’t stop laughing. “Sorry to interrupt, I would’ve loved to have been there.”
“Oh yeah, a refreshing break in my routine. I told her to call her lawyer; then we’d meet at the police station. After a few minutes of a staring contest, the ex-husband says they’ll be happy to answer any questions I have. Imagine that,” Beau finished.
“I’m imagining. Did they give you anything?” Still laughing, Jake shook his head because he could see the scene play out.
“Well, the ex-husband worked all weekend on his second job. He’s an assistant manager at a small restaurant here in Neptune. His alibi checks out. Now Lola, that delicate, shy creature, claims to have spent the weekend with her girlfriend over in Miami while her husband worked. I called her girlfriend. She hemmed and hawed when I asked her to verify Lola’s visit on the sixteenth. At first she agreed, until I let her know if she lied, she could face charges, including prison time. She immediately corrected her previous statement. Said she hasn’t seen Lola since her wedding. Connecticut, do you want me to verify flights on my end?”
“Thanks, Beau, I’ll check them out from here. Can I get the girlfriend’s information in Miami? I really appreciate your time on this. If I run into any problems with the flights, I’ll give you a call back. It’s been fun,” Jake said, a smile on his face.
“Anytime, Connecticut. I’ll fax it right over.” Beau hung up.
“What’s the smile all about, Jake?” Louie asked.
“Well, we might just have to head down south,” Jake said, pulling out the phonebook.
“Awesome, I’ll pack the sunscreen for you. What have you got?”
“What I got is a liar, imagine that.”
“Yeah, imagine that. Someone lying to a cop. Florida got more information for us?”
“Yep, it seems the new younger wife does not have an alibi for the weekend. The ex-husband does. It seems he needs to work two jobs to support the new and improved model.”
“The poor fellow, my heart bleeds.” Louie snorted. “Where was the current wife?”
“When interviewed, she states she spent the weekend in Miami with her girlfriend. Girlfriend gets all nervous when it’s explained to her she could go to jail if she lies, so she recants. She hasn’t seen the current wife since her wedding, last year.”
“‘Oh, what evil webs we do weave when once we try to succeed.’ I love that quote.”
“You and your quotes.”
“Hey, we can’t go down south until after Marisa’s party. She’d kill us. I’m already taking enough grief from her over it.”
“Don’t worry. If we have to go it wouldn’t be right away. We have other leads to pursue first.”
“Good, ’cause I’d hate to miss how you’re going to handle her friend Gigi who has, and I quote Marisa, ‘the world’s biggest crush on Uncle Jake’. I think it’s going to be fun.”
“Thanks, Louie, I owe you one.”
Chapter Five
Jake walked into Louie’s house—the noise level, created by all the seven-year-olds running around, screaming at the top of their lungs, immediately pierced his ear drums. He dodged a few as he passed the living room; he noticed Louie Jr., whom everyone called LJ to distinguish between father and son, with his friends, playing some video game and ribbing each other as young boys often do.
Jake caught LJ’s eye. “Hey, Uncle Jake. Dad’s out back.”
“Thanks, LJ. I’ll see you later.” Jake continued to make his way to the kitchen. He could only hope the noise level would be lower outside.
Jake walked into the kitchen, looking around at the organized chaos. He spotted Sophia in the center of it, talking to a dark-haired woman in a low-cut red sundress with a jacket. The woman left him breathless. At five-nine those tall high heels she wore showcased her long, shapely legs. His thoughts ran wild. He knew exactly where he’d like her to wrap them. She laughed at something Sophia said. Her laughter vibrated through him—sounding like music. He thought of a line from an old Bogie movie, ‘Boy, she was a tall drink of water’—he wanted a sip of that. She wore large gold hoop earrings, a gold bracelet, and an emerald ring on her right hand, nothing on her left. Good detecting, Jake thought, laughing inwardly. Sophia moved around the kitchen while they spoke, each movement automatic. Food dishes containing different kinds of treats littered the counter. In his peripheral vision, he saw Sophia pull something out of the oven that smelled heavenly, though Jake never took his eyes off the other woman.
They’d yet to notice him. He cleared his throat. “My God, Sophia, you’ve outdone yourself this time. Whatever it is smells great. I want to be the first to taste it.” He leaned over, kissing Sophia on the cheek.
“Jake, you finally made it. This is my friend Mia Andrews.” Sophia introduced her.
Mia held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Sophia talks about you all the time.”
He took her extended hand, surprised at the firm handshake and pleased with the soft skin, each sensation shooting through his body. Jake wished he’d dressed for the party. Instead he’d wore broken-in jeans with boots, a collared cotton shirt, the sleeves rolled half way up his arms—his idea of dress-up. He had a thing for belt buckles. Today he wore a silver American Bald Eagle.
“Nice to meet you, Mia. I’ll have to speak with Louie. He never mentioned you.” He looked over at Sophia.
“Louie’s out back, Jake. He’s on grill duty,” Sophia said innocently.
“I’ll see him in a moment. For now, I think I’ll help out in here. What do you need me to do?” He hoped Sophia wanted him to do something because he didn’t want to leave the kitchen. Or leave Mia, until he got to know her.
“She won’t accept any help. Everyone’s offered,” Mia said.
“Oh, that’s our girl. Come on, Sophia, what do you need?” Jake pushed.
“Nothing. Everything’s done. It just has to be taken out when Louie finishes cooking. In fact, let me check with him to see how he’s doing out there. I’ll be right back.” Sophia left them alone.
“Subtle, isn’t she?” Mia said.
What a smile, Jake thought. Gleaming white teeth, though her eyes were what caught his attention. When she smiled, they lit up like stars; cerulean eyes that stared directly into his, igniting a fire whi
ch shot straight through his core. Jake brought himself back to earth, willing himself to look away, breaking the stare. He didn’t want to appear rude.
Marisa and her friend Gigi came running in. Jake had almost forgotten the reason for the party.
“Hey Uncle Jake, is that for me?” Jake still held the wrapped pink box.
“It’s for the prettiest fourteen-year-old girl who happens to have a birthday in a couple of days. Know anyone who fits that description?” Jake teased. Marisa threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly as she planted a kiss on his cheek.
“Thanks, Uncle Jake. What is it, it feels light?”
“I guess you have to open it to find out, Marisa.”
“I can’t. Mom said I have to wait ’til after we eat to open my gifts,” Marisa said, in a frustrated voice.
“You know we always break the rules. Go ahead. Open it.” A kid himself when it came to presents, Jake encouraged her with a wink.
Marisa tore at the wrapping paper like a crazed dog searching for food. “You better hurry before your mother comes back in,” Jake urged her.
“You’re a bad influence, Jake,” Mia said.
“No, he’s not.” Marisa scorched Mia with a look.
Sophia came into the room. She looked from Jake to Marisa, then back at Jake.
“Jake!” she yelled. He started laughing.
“You’re the best, Uncle Jake! Look Gigi, a gift card to the mall. Uncle Jake, how’d you know? I can’t wait to use it. I know just what store, and what outfit I’m going to get. Thank you!” She threw her arms around him again, gave him another kiss. “Mom, can we go to the mall tonight, after everyone leaves?”
“No, not today, we have company. We’ll go tomorrow. Jake, this is way too much; you shouldn’t have,” Sophia said, looking at the gift certificate.
“What good is money if you don’t spend it?” he answered, giving Sophia a big hug.
*
Mia watched the exchange, feeling like an intruder, though it gave her some insight into Jake. When Sophia suggested she meet Jake, she’d agreed with reluctance and skepticism. She’d heard cops were bad news. They lived hard. They played hard. She knew Sophia and Louie must be the exception to the rule. Sophia pushed until Mia agreed to come to the party. Now, she was glad she did. She liked the way he looked; he was handsome, in a rugged sort of way. Boy, he sure could fill out a pair of jeans, she mused. Eyeing him, she took in the rest. Unusual color hair, almost red, mixed in with brown. His eyes were a vivid shade of green. She liked tall men. He stood just over six feet tall, so her height wouldn’t be a problem. She could tell he worked out, because those jeans certainly held a great ass. Pleasantly surprised, he wasn’t what she was expecting. She liked a firm body. He seemed to be good with children; you could tell he was part of this family.
IF I FAIL: A Jake Carrington Mystery Page 7
