Elusive Justice (Kensington-Gerard Detective series Book 2)

by K. T. Roberts

  “I’d heard about that, but it seemed harmless at the time, so I didn’t pay much attention.”

  “Do you remember that rash of burglaries that affected all the vacationing residents in the area the two-one covered that led them to Jackson?” He shook his head. “He thought he would get away with it.”

  “Yeah, what about them?”

  “My aunt and uncle were among the victims whose jewels were lifted.”

  “Oh man, that stinks. Did they ever recover their property?”

  “Nah. But they did have insurance on the stuff. I feel bad though, because I was the one to insist they call the department to watch their place while they were away. I don’t think they’ll ever let me forget that.”

  “Hey, you didn’t know. There’s no way to predict how or what people will do. But I understand how embarrassing that can be.” Zach shrugged.

  “The problem is it gives the rest of us in the NYPD a bad name. You know how these old people can be—set in their ways and figure one rotten apple must mean we’re all bad.”

  “I hear ya.” Zach remembered Sam was a talker and tried to hurry him along.

  Sam unlocked the cage-like door and gave him access to the huge warehouse. “Good to see you, Zach. Say hello to your lady.”

  Walking down the aisle, Zach could see what Sam was talking about. Some sections were well organized, but most had boxes tiered in columns on unorganized shelves and had Zach shaking his head wondering why something hadn’t been done before this. He stopped at aisle twenty and found what he was looking for. The name Thomas had been scribbled across the end of the box. He pulled the box off the shelf and carried it over to the row of old tables with chipped edges and wooden benches scratched with deep gouges. Removing his jacket, he draped it over the bench and pulled the lid off the box.

  Right on top of the pile of belongings in the box was a framed picture of Jake and his father. It gave him a sense of sadness which was a total surprise to him. He wasn’t much for showing his emotions, but he understood Jake’s sense of loss and it reminded him of his own past. Holding the picture in his hand, he remembered the expression on Jake’s face when he realized his father was dead. He hoped the boy was being treated well and wished he could see him again.

  Enough, he told himself. This melancholy crap had to stop. This wasn’t like him at all. If Jess were sitting across from him right now, she’d be laughing her head off.

  Taking a deep breath, he dug deeper into the pile of photographs and pulled them out wondering why the items weren’t packed in Jake’s bags when he left. Realizing how sappy he was getting, he knew very well why none of these had been packed. Jake was leaving his old life behind and nothing from his past could be on his person. Nothing. Even if he had found something that had the kid’s DNA on it, with so many people handling the items it would have likely been compromised by now anyway.

  The poor kid. Witsec whisked him off so fast he didn’t have time to think about it. Of course, the US Marshals had probably moved that quickly so he wouldn’t have time to whine about what he wanted to take. The sooner the kid was in a stable environment, the better.

  Placing the items in his pocket, he walked back out to the front and told Sam he was using the photographs for evidence and that he’d put the box back on the shelf where he’d found it.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  LIEUTENANT MILLER called out to Zach when he saw him enter the precinct. “What’s going on with the Thomas case?” he asked.

  “The usual typical crap. One step forward, two steps back. You know how that goes.”

  “I do. Keep in mind that if all the cases were easy to solve they’d replace us with robots. Think of it as job security.”

  Zach snickered. “Good thought, sir. I’ll try to remember that.” He chuckled. “McGee and I are currently searching for more information on Harold Thomas and we’re coming up empty-handed. We can’t find a thing from his past. Nothing. McGee checked his social security number, but even that’s not a solid piece of evidence as proof. There’s so much information on the Internet about how to change your identity, who knows.”

  “What about his DNA?”

  “It hasn’t come back yet. Do you have any idea where they took the kid?” Zach asked.

  “No, and why do you want to know?”

  “I thought if I could talk to him he might have heard stories about his father’s life before he came along that would help our investigation. We really didn’t have that much time together before they whisked him away.”

  “You’re not going to find out where they took the kid.” Miller jerked his head back and made a face. “That’s why they call it witness protection. But I’d like to get this case wrapped up soon, so see what you can do to speed things up because Springer’s starting to give me heartburn. He called again today looking for the return of the firearms.”

  “Yeah,” Zach said, “well, he’ll get ‘em back when I’ve got the ballistics reports in my hand.”

  “Okay,” he mused, “But work as quickly as you can. If the kid is in WP, and the father is dead, it shouldn’t be that hard to close out the case.”

  “On the contrary, sir. Not if Thomas and his son aren’t who they claimed to be. I get that ATF would like to wrap up their case sooner rather than later, but the perpetrators are already behind bars, so it’s not like they’re running free. Springer better get used to it. Until I figure out who shot Thomas, they’re not getting squat from me.”

  It was obvious by Miller’s expression that he wasn’t quite sure about how to deal with Zach Gerard. He simply turned and headed back down the hall while Zach sat down at his desk and gave McGee a quizzical look.

  “Nothing,” McGee threw up his hands. “I’ve been working on this since you left. What did you come up with?” he asked.

  “Some photographs from the property warehouse. I thought they might tell us a story.” Zach emptied his pockets and placed them down on the desk. “Here,” he shoved them across the desk. You look through these and see if we can piece a story together. Maybe there’s some old pictures of people in here we can check. In the meantime, I need to make a call to the US Marshal Service.”

  Zach keyed in Deputy Marshal Frasier’s number. He tapped his fingers atop his desk impatiently waiting for someone to answer. “Yes,” he said to the operator, “can you transfer me to Deputy Marshal Frasier.” He waited, still tapping his fingers until the man’s voice came through the phone. “Frasier,” he said matter-of-factly, “Zach Gerard here. I was hoping you could help me relative to the Thomas boy.”

  “What about him?”

  “I want to get a hold of him. I need more information about his father’s background and a sample of the kid’s DNA.”

  “Not happening, Gerard.”

  “You’re being unreasonable,” Zach countered.

  “Just because you’re in law enforcement doesn’t give you special permission to find out sensitive information.”

  “Then I want to speak to your supervisor right now.”

  “Listen Gerard, you can threaten me all you want. You’re antagonizing the wrong people here. The US Marshals are the oldest law enforcement organization in the country. We have jurisdiction in all fifty states, and in case you haven’t done your homework, let me give you a little bit of information: My boss was appointed by the President of the United States. Do you really want to mess with us?”

  Zach slammed the phone down and called the lab to check on the results of the DNA and received the same kind of resistance. Frustrated, he dialed Jessie’s number. “Jess. What are you doing tonight?”

  “You’re taking me to dinner. That’s what I’m doing.” She released a low laugh. “What’s going on? You sound frustrated.”

  “I am. I thought you might be able to help me.”

  “Oh, I can help relieve that frustration all right. What else did you have in mind?”

  “You’re such a tease.” He sighed. “Ya know, you’re the only one who knows ho
w to keep me grounded.”

  “Oh, so that’s it! You want me for my brains?”

  “All of the above. What time will you be getting off tonight?”

  “Another two hours and I’m out of here.”

  “I don’t know if I can wait that long.”

  “Okay. Want me to talk you down off that chip you have on your shoulder?” she asked.

  “I’m not having much luck today,” he whined. “No one is cooperating and I’m really getting pissed. They’re jerking me around.”

  “Who’d you bulldoze over now?”

  He grinned, “a few agents.” His jaw tensed. “I’m not sure I like the fact that you know me so well.”

  “Who are you kidding? You love it!”

  “Okay. I do.”

  “Besides the obvious, I think you need a taste of Manhattan tonight, so you come to my place. We’ll have a nice dinner and we’ll talk. But before you get here, call those guys back and try to be a little nicer. You know that old adage: you get more with honey?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said slightly embarrassed, but feeling better. “I love you, Jess.”

  “You do?” she teased. “Now see, I didn’t know that.”

  “Bye, Jess,” he snorted. “See you in two hours.”

  “I’ll be waiting with bated breath.”

  They disconnected and he felt refreshed. He enjoyed it for a few minutes before calling Frasier back. “Deputy Frasier, Gerard here again.”

  “Now what?” his voice was cordial but firm.

  “Listen, I’m sorry about before. I’m frustrated I’m not getting the answers I need or catching a break. Based on lack of evidence, I’m beginning to think this case involves more than we know right now. I don’t need to see the boy, but I’d be very appreciative if you’d get me a sample of Jake’s DNA. Will you do that for me?”

  “Yes, Detective,” his tone changed, “I’ll see what I can do. Let me make a few calls and I’ll get back to you.”

  “Thank you.”

  McGee looked up, “not much in these pictures. Disney World, pictures of a few islands, but there aren’t any photographs of other people, except maybe a few of Irene.”

  Zach filled his cheeks with air and blew it out in one fell swoop. “Okay, I’m going over to the lab to schmooze a little. One of the lab techs is a little sweet on me, so maybe I can convince her to put a rush on Thomas’ DNA results. Why don’t you check with ballistics? The Lieutenant said Springer’s been giving him grief about the return of the firearms.”

  “Okay,” McGee said, pushing out from the desk. “I’m not having much luck here so maybe doing something different will make me more productive.”

  Zach was surprised to hear McGee mention productivity, and decided he’d suddenly decided to join the real team and get some work done.

  Two hours later, Zach returned with DNA results in hand. Rushing over to the database, he keyed in the numbers from the results and ran a full search. What he saw astonished him. He printed out the results and ran to the lieutenant’s office.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ZACH RUSHED into Lieutenant Miller’s office. “You’re never going to believe what I found out?”

  “Enlighten me,” Miller said.

  “I tested Thomas’ DNA against all the databases and found a match in the military database, but it belongs to a Stanley Bingham, not Harold Thomas.”

  “No kidding. I’ve been suspicious ever since you mentioned you couldn’t find anything on him. That was too good to be true.” Miller rubbed his hand over his chin. “Did you schedule something with military personnel?”

  “Yes, I’ll be meeting with them later today to find out a little more. They’re also checking to see if Bingham was actually in the military, if he still is . . .. Now, the search is on to find out who this Stanley guy was and why he’d changed his name.”

  “What about the kid’s DNA? Maybe he isn’t who we think he is either,” Miller said.

  “I requested a sample from Witsec, but they haven’t come through yet. But you’ll be happy to know that I’ve turned the guns back over to Springer, so he won’t be bugging you anymore.”

  “Good. Happy to hear that. It sure was a pain in the ass.”

  “McGee got the ballistic reports and it turns out the bullet that killed Thomas . . . Bingham; whatever his name was . . . came from the gun of Clavo Ramirez, one of the smugglers—which leads to another question. Was Ramirez connected to Thomas and the shot was intentional, or an accident? I mean,” Zach’s brow rose, “that would have been the perfect set up to wipe him out. Right now though, I’m going with random, but you never know. The victim may have known too much and Ramirez may have figured if he was going down, so was Bingham.”

  “Can never be too sure. Good job. How much more time are you going to take on this case?”

  “I’m dancing as fast as I can, Lieutenant,” Zach said leaving the room.

  “Well, learn how to do the quick step,” Miller shouted after him. “I don’t want cases lingering on forever.”

  Zach pretended he didn’t hear the second comment. He wasn’t going to let the lieutenant rain on his parade. He was happy to have confirmed his suspicions. He keyed in Jessie’s phone number happy to share his find with someone who would appreciate it.

  “Hey you,” she said, when she answered. “I was thinking about you.”

  “Where are you? It sounds pretty noisy there.”

  “I’m at the mall revisiting the scene of the abduction. I showed Abby the footage, but she didn’t see anyone she recognized.”

  “What do you hope to gain by visiting the scene seven years later?”

  “I noticed an ATM in the surveillance footage last night, which is directly across from where Abby and her brother sat. I wasn’t sure if it was owned by a bank or a private individual. Either way, I wanted the contact number. According to the evidence, there are no entries regarding the ATM.” She jerked to the side when a teenage boy cut her off while running to catch up with his friend. “Geez,” she said, irritation spiking her voice, “Don’t kids know they shouldn’t run in a crowded mall?”

  “He didn’t even see you, Jess.” Zach smiled at a fellow peer passing by. “Are you hoping they’ll have surveillance from the ATM machine?”

  “I was.”

  “I have my doubts about that, but it’s certainly worth checking. You never know. Did you ask her about her father?” he inquired.

  “I did ask a lot of questions and when she became suspicious, I told her I was covering my bases.” She sighed. “What about you?”

  “I had a good find today,” he said with enthusiasm. “It turns out my victim isn’t who he said he was. How about that?”

  “Holy shit!” she said. “Why did you let me go on and on about my trials and tribulations when you had such good information?”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Are you kidding? It’s freakin’ genius. Wow,” she said. “nothing is ever easy, is it?”

  “Well, in the words of the illustrious Lieutenant Miller, if this job was easy, they’d replace us with robots.”

  She laughed. “I guess that’s true. Sometimes I feel like a robot.” She stopped by a window momentarily to check out a cocktail dress, and then moved along. “Okay, I need to get going. See you later?” she said.

  “I’m not sure, Jess. Miller’s getting impatient that we’re taking so long to close the case.” He groaned, “Sorry, I may need to work late.” He shook his head in disgust. “It’s always about the damn numbers with these guys.” He paused seeing a clerk mop up the coffee he’d unknowingly spilled on the floor. “Best I can do is let you know later.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too,” she said and clicked off, feeling good that Zach had called to share his good news with her. She smiled remembering the last time they’d made love. The glow and deep connection they felt afterward was always an added bonus, especially the way he’d look
at her. It was as though they were making love with their eyes. Waking up next to him wasn’t bad either.

  And one of the nicest things was Zach serving her a cup of coffee when she got out of the shower. The warmth of loving him waved through her chest, wishing she was with him right now instead of having to wade through the throng of customers celebrating a Macy’s day sale. An elderly woman walking toward her, stopped next to her.

  “You have such a loving smile on your face.”

  Jess chuckled. “I guess it’s because I just got off the phone with my boyfriend.”

  “It shows, my dear. I hope you always feel that way.”

  “Me too. Thanks for stopping to share that with me. You’ve made me realize what a lucky woman I am.”

  “Oh,” she grinned. “I think you’ve known that all along.” The woman gave her a loving pat on her arm. “You enjoy the rest of your day.”

  Jess snapped back to reality when several customers were blocking the aisles but she continued to push through. She rarely came to the mall, but seeing grown women wading through the piles of disorganized knit tops on counters, pulling things off the racks and having total disregard for picking things up off the floor and returning them to hangers made her wonder what their homes looked like.

  She finally made her way through to the ATM for the telephone number on the device. Writing it down, she couldn’t wait to get outside to the parking lot. Inside her car, she keyed in the phone number. When she learned that transactions were kept a minimum of forty-five days as required by law, she felt disappointed. She’d known it was a long shot, but if she hadn’t tried, she never would have known. Shrugging off the dead end, she headed back to the precinct to begin her search for Abby’s father, Alexander James Cavanaugh.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  EXHAUSTED from a long day, Zach noted the time on the wall clock and stretched his arms overhead. One more task for the night and he was heading home. The night crew had arrived and provided an increase in chatter. He loved what he called the free hour before one shift left and the next arrived. It provided him time to get a lot of work done without the interruptions that normally took place during the day.