“You’re not going to request the son or the daughter?” Louie asked.
“No, according to the DNA report there’s no relation with the deceased.”
“Okay. Should we hit up Judge Warner again?”
“Might as well, he’s familiar with the case. I’ll walk it over now, see if I can get a rush on this.” Jake walked back to his office to grab his jacket. Louie followed him in. Slipping on his jacket, Jake continued talking. “You coming, Louie?”
“So much for leaving on time,” Louie said.
“You want to leave on time, Louie, get a desk job,” Jake joked.
“Yeah, like I’d be an asset in an office.”
“You? Of course you would. You’re so anal with your paperwork, they’d love you.” Jake laughed.
“That’s true, but you’d miss me.” Louie smiled.
In the lobby, Jake headed for the front door. Louie grabbed hold of his arm, “Hey, we’re not driving over?”
“It’s two blocks, Louie. It would take us a half an hour just to find a parking spot. Suck it up.”
They walked up from the station toward the center of town. Jake spotted two drug deals going down. If time permitted, he would have busted them for being so bold. He checked his watch—Christ, where’d the time go today? He really needed the subpoena. Picking up his pace, he reached the courthouse with fifteen minutes to spare. Louie complaining in his ear.
The judge’s clerk made them wait in the outer office for ten minutes. Finally, the judge opened his door and called them in. His chambers reflected the judge’s personality in the way he decorated it—rich and formal, unlike the outer office, which reflected standard governmental decorating. Grey everything. Here his personal tastes showed in both art and color. The forest green wall behind his desk complemented the green and ivory drapes. A large, dark, cherry wood desk shouted important man here. The office setting demanded respect, as did the judge himself. He still wore his robe, presenting a fierce, authoritative figure even while seated at his desk.
“Jake, Louie, what can I do for you today?” he asked, pointing to the clock on his wall. “At this late hour?”
“Thanks for seeing us, your Honor. We just got the DNA report from the car on the Chelsea Adams case. There are two sets of DNA found in the car, besides the Adams womans’. One’s male and one’s female. We’d like a subpoena for the ex-husband, his new wife, and the new wife’s ex-husband. Their names are Jeff Adams, Lola Adams, and Nick Pilarski,” Jake added respectfully.
“Why Lola Adams’ ex-husband?” Judge Warner asked, disrobing.
He wore a black suit with a fine gray pinstripe, a white shirt, and a gray tie with black stripes. Jake guessed him to be about sixty years of age, though he looked younger. Warner kept himself in shape. The judge’s reputation intimidated a lot of detectives. He was known for being tough in the courtroom, though he was also known to work with the police to get results. Jake liked and respected him. He made a bet with himself that Warner would issue the subpoena even this late in the day.
“Jake, how’d the other warrant go last week on the Wagner case?” he asked. Judge Warner seemed to know everything in and out of his court room. This slap on the wrist reminded Jake not everything needed to be expedited.
“We brought in Chloe Wagner for questioning, but released her while we investigate the new allegations.” Jake danced around the fact he’d pushed Judge Warner last week on the warrant for Chloe’s arrest.
“Pending further investigation of what new evidence?” Warner pushed.
“We recovered the victim’s ring. We also found out she was gay. We didn’t pick up even a hint last year of her sexual orientation. Everyone kept quiet for their own reasons. We also discovered today she kept a diary her whole life. The one covering the month she died is missing. She always kept the current one in her purse.”
“How did you get this information?”
“Her sister Chloe let it slip in her interview last week about Shanna being gay. The ring her father tried to hock at JC’s Pawn on Thursday. The diary we just discovered from a witness we missed last year at Shanna’s school.”
“How did you miss the witness, Jake?” He looked over his glasses at Jake.
“Your Honor, the witness’s father died the same weekend Shanna went missing. She headed home to Nebraska for the funeral. She didn’t get back to school for over two weeks. We discovered her today when we re-interviewed everyone at the school.” Jake looked over at Louie.
“Your thoughts on this, Sergeant?” Warner asked.
“It’s frustrating when we’re not given all the pieces up front. I’m just glad they’re now starting to fall into place, so we can close the case,” Louie offered.
“Okay, I’ll sign your subpoenas. Jake, from now on, do try not to make everything an emergency.”
“Your Honor, the subpoenas will be served in Florida, by the local police.”
“It’s your call, Jake.” He signed the subpoenas, handing them to Jake, and walked out of his office without another word.
They walked back to the station at a more leisurely pace, allowing them to savor the mild night with temperatures in the seventies. Jake scanned the streets, unconsciously looking for the dealers he saw on the way to the judge’s chambers. Not seeing them, he stopped in Vice, letting Detective Carey know what he saw, also supplying a description of the dealer.
When they stepped into Homicide, Jake said, “Louie, why don’t you call it a night? I’m just going to call Chief Taylor, let him know what to expect tomorrow with his mail. I want Katrina to send out the subpoenas in a Fed-Ex envelope.”
“Katrina’s gone home already. Doris is on the desk for the nightshift. You only have twenty minutes to make the Fed-Ex drop for today or drive it up to their office in Watertown. I’ll take care of it and save you a trip. Call the Chief.”
“Thanks, I forgot the time.”
“You always do.” Louie headed to the copy machine before heading to Doris’ desk with the original subpoenas.
Jake dialed the Neptune police chief. “Hi, Sammy, do you work twenty-four seven?”
“It seems like it. Let me guess, Lieutenant Carrington from Connecticut?” she asked.
“Wow, you’re good.”
“I have a good ear. I expect you want to talk to the chief?”
“Yes, please.”
“Hold on a minute,” she said. The chief didn’t keep him waiting.
“Hey, Connecticut. What can I do for you today?” Beau Taylor asked.
“Hi, Beau. We just got the lab reports back on the car Chelsea Adams was found in. It contained DNA for one female and one male, besides Adams’. So I have two subpoenas going out in Fed-Ex to you, for DNA samples of Jeff and Lola Adams. Are you able to do it and save me a trip?”
“Oh, sure, I look forward to seeing that delicate creature with the gutter mouth.” He laughed. Jake remembered the last time Taylor saw her, he said she was a nasty screaming bitch.
Jake loved his sarcasm. “Sorry, next time I’ll try to get a sweet-mouthed beauty,” he joked.
“I hope there won’t be a next time,” Chief Taylor said seriously.
“Me too. Thanks, Chief.”
“Do you want our labs to process the samples or overnight it back to you?”
“Please overnight the samples back to us. They’ll go directly to UConn Medical Center. The Fed Ex envelope will already be addressed for you. It’s where all of our state autopsies on suspicious deaths are performed. The case number’s on all the vials so you don’t have to label the samples. I’ll let you know the results. Once again, Beau, thanks for the help,” Jake said graciously.
“Not a problem, Connecticut. We don’t want any murdering bastards here either. I’ll let you know when the samples are on their way back to you.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
This woman just doesn’t get it, Jake thought. Why is she calling me? Only one way to find out, Jake, answer the damned phone.
�
�Chloe, do I need to remind you that you are required to go through the switchboard to talk to me.”
“I know. I’m not harassing you. I just couldn’t wait until tomorrow to tell you that I got a weird phone call from Mark Cavilla. He wanted to know what you guys told me when you arrested me. How could he have known about the arrest?”
“I don’t know, Chloe. What else did he want?” Why would he be calling Chloe now after all this time?
“I’ll run through the phone call for you…if you have the time now?”
“I do, go ahead.”
“First, he said he heard about the arrest and figured I needed a friend. That was pure bullshit. I haven’t heard from him in months. I asked if he was nervous and told him you were closing in and he got petulant. He wanted to know what you told me about the case and exactly why I was brought in. When I wouldn’t tell him anything, he caught an attitude with me. What do you think?”
“I don’t know, Chloe, just don’t go anywhere alone with him or Meryl, okay?”
“I won’t, Jake. He really spooked me. If I’m not mistaken, I heard fear in his voice. Do you think he or Meryl killed my sister?” She was asking for comfort, but he had none for her. Chloe could still be the killer, Jake thought.
“Chloe, I don’t think anything. We have to follow the evidence. When we make an arrest the evidence will be what convicts the person—just stay close to home, we’ll talk again.” Then he added, “At the station.”
“I really miss my sister, Jake. Please believe me when I say, I didn’t kill her. Don’t waste time investigating me when it was someone else.”
Jake hung up without another word to her.
*
Jake walked in the door to his home at seven-thirty. He took off his jacket, locked up his guns; then headed into the kitchen to grab a beer while he reviewed his files. He sat at the kitchen table with the beer, writing up his notes on the call from Chloe. He also wrote up his notes on his conversation with the chief in Florida.
Cavilla’s call to Chloe occupied his mind. What did he want? How did he know about Chloe’s arrest on Friday? They kept it off the books on purpose. The only one who called the station for information was Meryl Drake. Someone at the station had to have called him, but who? He reached for Shanna’s file, looked up Drake’s phone number. She wasn’t happy to hear from him.
“Hi, Meryl,” he said when she answered.
“Yeah, what do you want?”
“It’s Lieutenant Carrington,” he identified himself.
“I know who it is. I repeat, what do you want? I already spoke with the Sergeant.”
“I understand. Meryl, this is important. It’s for Shanna. Have you spoken with Mark Cavilla lately?” He didn’t directly ask about this weekend, on purpose.
“No. I don’t speak with the bastard. I can’t stand him. The last time we spoke we got into an argument. He thought he owned Shanna.”
She always sounded angry, Jake thought. “Okay. Thanks, Meryl.”
“That’s it? What’s up?” she asked curiously.
“Nothing, I’m just putting all the players in order, assessing their relationships to each other. Thanks.”
“For some reason, I don’t believe you. There’s no relationship with Cavilla. He’s a dickhead. Are you going to give me anything else on this?”
“No, it’s just what I said it is, Meryl. Thanks again. Good night.” She hung up on him. He got that a lot lately. He must be hitting some nerves.
Jake understood he’d perked up Meryl’s curiosity though it couldn’t be helped. Until a definite suspect emerged, was arrested, and locked away based on the evidence, he couldn’t give any one of them information. He needed to put his prime suspect at the scene—so far he hadn’t been able to. He was sure the killer kept the diary as a souvenir—find the diary, find the killer. It sounded so simple—he wished.
He pulled a couple of burgers from the fridge, along with another beer, walked out to his deck, and lit the grill. After he placed the burgers on the grill. Jake sat and popped his beer pulling out his cell phone to call Mia.
“Hello.”
“Hey.”
“How’d the rest of your day go?”
“Great, actually, a lot of things are coming together on both cases.”
“Wonderful. So what are you doing now?”
“I’m just sitting on the deck, drinking a beer, grilling a couple of burgers, and talking to you.”
“I just ordered a pizza.”
“Really? Here’s an FYI. I love pizza. Did you choose an outfit yet?”
“I’ll keep it in mind. I did choose my outfits, not outfit. My room’s back to normal, everything put away.”
“Are you nervous?”
“Yeah. I love my story. Now I have to get other people to love it. It’s hard to take criticism on your work.”
“It’s hard not to take it personally.”
“True. What time tomorrow do you want to come over?”
“Can I call you during the day? Let you know? I have several interviews and I don’t know how long they’re going to take.”
“Sure, I just need at least an hour’s notice to cook,” she said.
“Don’t cook. I’ll bring dinner. That way we’ll have more time together.”
“Sounds good, til tomorrow then,” she said.
“Miss you,” he chanced.
“Miss you, too,” she whispered.
*
While Jake was on the phone with Mia, Louie sat down to dinner with his family. As usual, Louie couldn’t get a word in edgewise with the chatter of the kids, and Sophia breaking up arguments. That was okay with Louie; he couldn’t get his cases off his mind. He let the kids control the conversation. The case was a race to the finish line, with no clear individual standing out. Louie felt frustrated. He started reviewing all the new evidence in his mind, when Sophia interrupted him.
“You okay, Louie? You seem distracted.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just that so much has come down the last few days. I’m trying to put it in order.”
“Well, why don’t you do it later? For now you can re-introduce yourself to the kids.” She smiled at him.
“Funny, Sophia. Hi, kids. I’m your dad.” He laughed.
“Oh, really?” said Marisa, reminding him of her mother.
“Yes, really, Marisa. So I take it you missed me?”
“Not really, Mom brought this other guy over to fill in for you. A great substitute. He’s much better looking.”
Yes, just like her mother. “Well, I’m glad to hear I wasn’t missed. So next week, you can go to him for your allowance,” Louie said with a straight face.
“Jeez, Dad, I was only joking,” she complained.
“How are you doing, LJ,” he asked his oldest son.
“Good, Dad. Mom said I needed to ask you first if I could borrow the car Saturday night. I have a date. Her curfew’s eleven.”
“Your mother’s curfew is eleven? Good to know,” Louie joked.
“Come on, Dad. My date’s curfew.” The kid never appreciates my humor.
“Who’s the girl?”
“Melissa Phelps.”
“Where are you going?”
“What’s this, the third degree? I’m not a suspect,” LJ said, annoyed.
“No, you’re not a suspect. You’re my son…my underage son. I’d like to know where you’re going. You’re only sixteen, remember that.”
“I thought we’d go to the movies and get something to eat after,” he replied, still annoyed.
“LJ’s got a girlfriend, LJ’s got…” Marisa taunted.
“Stop it, Marisa. Leave your brother alone. You can have the car, LJ, and you’ll take your mother’s cell phone with you, in case of an emergency.”
“There won’t be any emergency, Dad. Give me a break.”
“I hope not. Take your mother’s cell phone with you.” Louie looked at his younger son who remained silent through the whole meal. “What’s u
p, Carmen?”
“Nothing, Dad,” he sulked.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Do I have to go to school every day?”
“It’s the law,” Louie answered.
“Well, it sucks,” Carmen said, playing with his food.
“What happened?”
“That bully Greg’s at it again. He took my lunch today. If I were only two feet taller, I would’ve smashed him right in his face.”
Louie hid his feelings. There would always be bullies in the world. Carmen, the runt of the litter, would have to fight his way through life. Louie would love to kick the kid’s ass for him, but the law was the law.
“Carmen, you have to tell the teacher, or I will. This has been going on way too long now.”
“Oh Dad, it would make it worse.”
“I’ll swing by the school tomorrow and walk him home,” LJ offered.
“You’re too old to get involved, LJ,” Louie pressed.
“I know. I’ll do it where no else hears me.”
Louie left it there. He knew LJ would use discretion. They finished dinner. Louie helped Sophia clean up; afterward they moved into the living room, sat down. The kids all raced to their rooms to call friends on the pretense of doing homework.
“It’s been a tough couple of weeks, Louie,” Sophia said.
“Yeah, it has. Sorry for missing so many dinners.” He smiled over at her, grabbed her hand.
“It’s part of the package, I know. I missed you too.”
“Since when did Marisa become such a wise guy?”
“Since always. You just used to think it was cute.”
“Well, someone’s going to kick her ass someday, if she doesn’t watch it.”
“Louie, watch your language, the kids will hear you. She’s just joking with you. What’s really bothering you?”
“I don’t know. I’m frustrated with the cases. Jake’s frustrated with the cases. So much evidence came in this last week on the Wagner case, but it still doesn’t point to any one person. That case is ripping Jake apart. You know last week, I walked into his office… Christ, tears were running down his face…”
IF I FAIL: A Jake Carrington Mystery Page 24
