Done Rubbed Out: Reightman & Bailey Book One

by Jeffery Craig

  He looked up but wouldn’t meet her eyes. He started at the wall behind her. “Yes,” he finally answered.

  “Why?” She didn’t have to explain the question. He knew exactly what she wanted to know.

  “It just happened. I’d just gone into the store and realized I didn’t have my wallet. I started to go back to the car to check if maybe it had slipped out of my pocket. When I turned around, I saw you through the windows, coming from the parking lot. I thought about the phone I still had with me and I panicked.” Riley looked over toward his brother and then finally, at her. “I figured if I could somehow pass you the phone, it would be out of my hands. You’d know what to do. I didn’t mean to crash into you so hard, Detective. I swear I didn’t.”

  “And when I tried to get up, that was you too, wasn’t it? Pushing me back to the concrete with your foot.”

  “Yes.” Riley was flushed now, remembering how he had forced her face down into the pavement. “I couldn’t risk you looking up and recognizing me,” he admitted. “I dropped the phone in with the rest of the stuff scattered on the ground and then I ran back to my car. I was parked around the corner from the entrance, and I hoped you wouldn’t see me once I made the turn.” He inhaled a shaky breath. “I got in the car and sped out of the lot.”

  “I could have been hurt, Riley. I was hurt, a little,” she said as she touched her face, feeling the tender skin.

  “I know,” he said, regretfully. “But, I watched from my car once I made it to the parking lot across the street – the one by the dry cleaners. I saw other people stop and help. I saw you walk back to your car and get in. I watched you drive away...” his voice trailed off as the enormity of what he had done began to sink in.

  The room was perfectly silent, except for the sound of Peter Riley’s shaky breath. “After you drove away, I went back to the store,” he continued. “I looked on the ground by the entrance to see if I could spot the phone. When I didn’t see it, I went into the store and asked if anyone had turned a phone in. No one had. I was still worried about you, but I was more relieved the phone was gone.”

  Reightman viewed him through narrowed eyes until Riley averted his face. Shaken by the pitiless expression on her face, he took another drink of water and worried the plastic cap in his fingers. After taking another deep breath, he forced himself to continue. “When…when you called to check on the status of Guzman’s autopsy, I was relieved. I started to ask if you were alright.”

  “You did ask, Riley,” Reightman interrupted as she replayed the last few days in her mind. “You did ask, although it was well after the time your concern would’ve done me any good. I remembered thinking you were acting weird, but chalked it up to you catching crap from Lieberman.” As the events of the last few days came together, another small piece fell into place for her. “You also sent me a note through the interdepartmental mail, didn’t you? A note telling me to check the phone. That was you as well, wasn’t it?”

  He didn’t answer until his brother nudged him with his elbow. “Yes,” he replied, relieved that the worst was over.

  Reightman stood up and walked over to the other side of the table, and looked down at him from a couple of feet away. “I want to just punch you, Peter Riley!” she told him heatedly. “For knocking me to the ground and shoving my face down with your foot. “ She watched him shift nervously in his chair and lowered her voice. “Why didn’t you just bring the phone to me, or to Detective Jackson? We would’ve believed you.”

  “I was afraid,” he said simply, as if it explained everything. “It would’ve been Dr. Lieberman’s word against mine.” When he couldn’t think of anything else, he added, “I just wanted to do the right thing.”

  “Which you accomplished, in absolutely the worst possible way.” Reightman shook her head in disgust. She looked at him with very little pity, and with a great deal of annoyance. “What about the necklace and earring Tom and I found stashed in your desk?”

  “When we…right after we had the body back at the morgue, and had removed the earring and the necklace, Lieberman placed them in a little clear bag and laid it to the side. They were eventually logged in with the rest of the victim’s things.” Riley thought through the events of that night. “He – Dr. Lieberman – wasn’t being careful you know? He was kind of rough and …disrespectful I guess, with the way he handled the body. He practically ripped the earring out of the lobe of the ear. He was more careful with the necklace and even polished the pendant a little. It was really weird, because I thought I recognized the star. It looked like something he used to wear. He even kind of played with…with…well, with some of Mr. Guzman’s body parts and I think maybe he also cut off...” Riley blinked his eyes rapidly as if he was trying to erase the memory from his mind. “When I realized what some of the things he was doing were, I was appalled, but when Lieberman saw me looking at him, he stopped.” Riley took a gulp of the water in front of him and paused to settle his disturbed thoughts before continuing. When he spoke again, he was more composed. “I didn’t think any more about the jewelry until a day or so later. That officer, the one that brought down the photocopy, came down a day or so later right after Lieberman returned from being out sick, and handed him something.”

  “Helliman?” Jackson asked for clarification.

  “Yes,” Riley confirmed.

  “Did anyone else see Officer Helliman come in?”

  “No, there wasn’t anyone else around. About an hour after Officer Helliman left, I saw Lieberman swinging the pendant around by the chain, kind of like an old-timey hypnotist, and then he put it in his lab coat pocket. After he left for the night, I snagged the coat and found the necklace and the earring as well. I dug around and found a box of paperclips and I emptied them into the top drawer of my desk. I put the jewelry in the box and hid it in the back of the drawer.” He shot Reightman a quick glance. “I was going to send it to you, Detective, like I did with the note.”

  “Why were you going to do that, Riley?”

  “I thought that maybe you’d get it back to whoever it belonged to. Someone must have wanted those things to help remember Mr. Guzman.”

  “Well, you’ve certainly been a very busy man over the last few days Dr. Riley.” Jackson looked up briefly from his notes when he heard the scorn in her voice. The doctor flushed a deep red, but to his credit, didn’t look away. The four of them set in silence until Jackson finished with his review of the notes he’d taken throughout the entire interview.

  “Did you see anything else? Anything that struck you as odd?” asked Jackson.

  Peter Riley took his time, thinking things over carefully before turning toward Jackson. “Nothing else like that, but Lieberman was really strange. Like I said, he wasn’t respectful to the body. He made… incisions he didn’t need to make, especially around the neck. It was almost like –”

  “Like what, Dr. Riley?”

  “I’m not sure, Detective Jackson, but it was almost like he was trying to confuse things.”

  “Confuse things in what way?”

  Riley shook his head. “I don’t know.” He looked toward Reightman. “Remember, Detective, when I said he wasn’t letting me do my job or assist with anything? And I told you he was always sending me away?” Reightman nodded. “Well, it was like he didn’t want me to see what he was doing. He knew if I was too close, I’d know some of the things he was doing were not only unnecessary, but harmful in terms of preserving evidence. He also seemed to be taking his time with things – delaying almost. Like with the toxicology samples. He was really mad when I went ahead and sent them out for testing.”

  Jackson flipped back a few pages and read the notes he had taken since the beginning of the interview. He tapped his pen on the paper a few times, looking at Riley intently. “Is there anything else, anything at all, you’d like to add?”

  “No, Detective Jackson.”

  “Alright then.” Jackson closed his notebook and stood to address the attorney. “Detective Reightman and
I are going to step out into the hall for a minute.” Melba and Sam left the room and once in the hall Jackson leaned against the wall. “What do you think?” he asked.

  “I think I’m glad Dr. Riley only works on dead bodies and not live ones. I can’t believe he was so stupid!”

  “I agree he wasn’t very smart, but Melba, we have no idea what it must have been like down there with Lieberman.”

  “But, Sam, he could have come to us! We would have believed him.”

  “Maybe. But as he said, it would’ve been his word against that of a more senior, respected professional who’s been the City Coroner for several years. Lieberman’s also well connected.” Sam contemplated his partner as she leaned against the wall, mirroring his own pose. “We might have believed him, but would anyone else? You know how things work, Melba.” He regarded her for a minute more and then straightened. “You want to charge him, Reightman?’

  “With what, stupidity?” she asked from her slouch against the wall.

  Sam chuckled. “Well, we could definitely make that charge stick.” Then, more seriously, he suggested, "I was thinking more along the lines of tampering with evidence and assaulting an officer.”

  Reightman shook her head, “No, Sam, at least not with the assault charge. As for the other, I think we should run it by the Chief. I say we let him go for tonight, but advise him and his attorney brother that we may have further business.”

  As she straightened from the wall, she shook her head and then rubbed her temples. “It’s a shame.”

  “Yes, it is,” Jackson agreed. They both knew they were talking about young Dr. Peter Riley’s actions and the probable result those actions would have on a career he’d only just started. Sam held the door open for her as they went back into the interview room.

  Jackson was the one who gave him their decision. “Dr. Riley, I think we’re done for the present. We will not be pressing charges at this time, although our position may change after review with Police Chief Kelly. We may also have further questions for you and will expect your cooperation should the need arise.”

  When both of the Riley brothers signaled their understanding and agreement, Jackson looked toward Reightman with a raised brow. After she gave a curt nod of agreement, he concluded, “I think we are done here for the evening.”

  The brothers stood and Peter Riley spoke from across the table. “Detective Reightman, I’m really sorry about the night at the grocery store. I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”

  Reightman offered all she could to a former co-worker. “I am as well, Dr. Riley.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll see you around tomorrow, Detective,’ he added, hoping to normalize the situation.

  She looked him full in the face without speaking for several seconds. Finally, she said, “No, Doctor. I don’t think we’ll see each other around here again.”

  As the meaning behind her words became clear, he paled and dropped back down into his chair.

  “Mr. Riley,” she addressed the brother standing at his side, “We’ll be in touch.”

  “I’ll wait for your call, Detective,” he acknowledged before gathering his things and ushering his brother from the room.

  Sam and Melba followed, and when they reached the door, she flipped off the lights, causing Jackson to arch an eyebrow her way. “Just trying to save the city some money, Sam.”

  “Why, Melba? You hoping for a raise?”

  “Like that will ever happen!”

  “Yeah, it sucks to be us, doesn’t it?”

  “Well, I can only speak for myself, but I guess it sure must suck to be you.”

  “Not as much as it would suck to be you.”

  “Sam?” she grinned over to where he was walking by her side.

  “Yes, Melba?” he grinned back.

  “Just shut up!” They laughed like children and kept it up all the way down the long hall, until turning to make their way, side by side, to their desks.

  ♦♦♦

  Later that night after a long traffic laden drive home that included a brief update to Chief Kelly, Melba unlocked the door to her apartment, struggling with her purse and a handful of mail. She dropped the mail on the counter and slipped out of her shoes. After removing her weapon and locking it away, she changed into her usual comfy set of sweats and made herself a salad while heating a can of soup. “It sure beats a five day old carton of take-out,” she decided with satisfaction as she shoved the vegetable peelings down the disposal and turned it on. She plated her salad and rinsed out the chipped mixing bowl and then poured the warm soup directly from the small sauce pan into a mug. She set them on the bar and took a seat on a stool and ate her dinner while looking through the mail.

  After finishing her solitary meal, she dug in her purse and pulled out her phone. She rehearsed a few words to herself as she dialed her daughter. “Hey, Abby,” she said when the call was answered.

  “Hi, mom. I was just about to call you. I thought you should be home about now.”

  “Yes, I got in a few minutes ago and just finished dinner. The girls in bed?”

  “Yes, finally! I didn’t think I’d ever get Emily out of her pretty princess dress and into her PJs. I wish she was easy, like Melissa.”

  “Emily takes after you, Abby,” Melba teased. “Although in your case it was a ballerina dress. You insisted on wearing it every day until it finally fell apart in the wash.”

  “I loved that dress,” Abby replied wistfully.

  Melba allowed herself a rare moment to reflect back on happier times. “I know you did, Abby.” Making an effort to pull away from bittersweet memories, she forced some brisk cheer into her voice. “I was more than ready to see the end of that dress by the time it met with its unfortunate demise.”

  “Death by washing machine!”

  They both laughed, and then caught up on the girl’s antics. Abby asked the best way to get grape juice stains out of carpeting. After Melba gave her daughter the best advice she could come up with, she moved to the other reason for her call. “Abby, I wanted to talk about this weekend.” she started.

  “Ummmm…Mom, would you be terribly upset if we postponed?”

  “Postponed?”

  “Yes. You see, the thing is, I’ve met someone. I think I’ve talked myself into asking him to the company picnic this weekend.”

  “Sounds promising,” Melba replied neutrally.

  “I think it is promising, mom. He’s really nice. I’ve only been seeing him for a little over a month, but…I think I like him. I mean, I really like him.”

  Melba wondered what kind of life she was leading when she had no idea her daughter had been seeing someone special for over a month.

  “Mom?” Abby asked after a pregnant pause.

  “Sorry, Abby. I’m here.”

  “Okay. You’re not too upset are you? I know you were looking forward to seeing the girls.”

  “I was looking forward to that, Abby, and to seeing you as well, but I’m not upset.” Melba took a breath and decided that she couldn’t let Abby take all of the blame for their postponed weekend. “As a matter of fact, I was calling to ask if we could postpone anyway. When we made plans, I’d forgotten it was Labor Day weekend. The Chief needs everyone on call.”

  “I think it’s terrible you have to work the whole weekend, mom.”

  “It probably won’t be the whole weekend. I just have to be on call in case something comes up.”

  Abby was silent for a couple of seconds and then brought up the topic they’d both been avoiding. “I saw that awful case on the news, mom – the one where the man was found horribly murdered at that spa.” When her mother didn’t comment, she asked “Are you working that case?”

  “Yes, I am.” Melba tried to think of something to add, and settled on, “It’s pretty complicated.”

  “Sounds like it is. I also saw that awful City Councilman on the news. He sounds pretty extreme.”

  “I think so too, but he has quite a few supporters. This is a very cons
ervative state, Abby.”

  “You don’t have to tell me, Mom. You may be in the state capitol, but I live in conservative central up here. I can’t believe some of the attitudes I run into, and how judgmental and narrow minded people can be sometimes. It just amazes me. It wouldn’t hurt anyone to just ease up a little, and live and let live.”

  “Does your new man think the same way?”

  “Will. His name is Will Cooper, Mom. And yes, he finds it as stifling as I do. You’ll like him.”

  “I’m sure I will, Abby,” Melba replied, although like any mother worth her salt, she’d reserve judgement for a while.

  “I know! Since we can’t get together this weekend, why don’t you plan to come up next weekend? You can stay here and spend time with me and the girls, and you can meet Will. How does that sound?”

  “It sounds great. I need to see how the case is going, but if nothing gets in the way it would be terrific. I might be able to get up a day or two early. Lord knows I have the personal time saved up. You just need to know things might change at the last minute.”

  “Mom, I know how it goes with your job, and how things can change. I understand. I didn’t always, but I do now. I won’t say anything to the girls until the last minute so they won’t be disappointed if things don’t work out as planned. Why don’t we leave it open, and you can call me in the middle of the week? We can firm things up then.”

  “As long as you don’t mind last-minute notice, Abby.”

  “Not at all, Mom,” assured Abby. “It’ll be great.” Her daughter was quiet for a moment. “The girls miss you, and so do I.”

  “I miss you all as well.” Melba replied. “I miss you terribly some days,” she thought, looking around the dull, shoddy room and wondering how things had worked out in such a way that she was alone. “Abby, I love you a lot.”

  “I love you too, Mom.” There was another moment of thoughtful, loving silence on the phone and then Abby remembered her role as a properly dutiful daughter. “I’ll call you after the picnic and let you know how it goes.”