“The medication Jonah was selling included Vicodin, which is hydrocodone. At least, that’s what the pills look like. We have to wait on confirmation from the lab.”
“What else was Jonah carrying?”
“Adderall, mostly, which is an amphetamine. So maybe he was telling the truth about that. And Ativan, which is a benzodiazepine.” He waited for his words to sink in.
“All prescription medications. Are you suggesting Jonah might have gotten it from his father?”
“I’m not suggesting anything at all, Gin. I’m just laying out what I’m working with. See, Jonah made us a very interesting offer. Waited until his dad was out of the room to do it, too.”
“He made you an offer? Isn’t it usually the other way around?”
“Yes, though I’m not sure we would have offered him much of a deal given that we’ve got him on video in the trap house literally listing everything he was selling, like he was reading from the menu from a Chinese restaurant. But it turns out that young Jonah’s even more precocious than I would have guessed.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”
“Okay, I’ll lay it out straight for you, but only because this might involve you. What I’m about to tell you is absolutely off the record. If you repeat it, I’ll deny it.”
“Tuck, I get it. Look, I’ll do whatever I can, especially if it might help Jake.”
“I understand that. But this isn’t really about Jake.” He drew an audible breath. “Jonah says he can lead us to a body.”
“A … body? What does that mean?”
“He says he came across human remains just outside the city limits, but he hasn’t given up the exact location yet. His father’s lawyer is making noises about us giving him immunity on the drugs—but it’s pretty clear the kid wants to talk. Thing is, Gin … I actually believe him.”
“I still don’t understand. How did he happen to stumble across these remains? And why didn’t he come to you right away?”
“He’s not saying. Not until we agree to the lawyer’s terms, anyway. So look … I’m leaning toward doing it. We’ve got him on possession easy, we’ve got a good case for intent to deliver, and we can keep an eye on him easily enough. With a lawyer like the one he has, though, I wouldn’t count on us holding him for long. Guy made a point of telling me he’s going to Penn State this fall.”
“But Tuck, if Jonah was really peddling powerful opiates—with everything that’s been in the news—even a kid would have to understand the dangers.”
“You think?” Tuck’s mouth was set in a grim line. “I’m not so sure. You may be overestimating the teenage brain. I’m not sure they’re really all that good at connecting the dots, especially when it involves their own behavior. They tend to believe what they want to believe—even Cherie.”
Tuck’s daughter Cherie had been born with fetal alcohol syndrome and faced various cognitive and social challenges. She’d made tremendous progress since moving to Trumbull the prior November, and she’d enjoyed enrichment activities like the after-school basketball team Gin had coached, but she still required special attention in the classroom and at home.
“I do remember being a teen myself, Tuck,” Gin said. “So I guess I’ll grant you that. And the latest research on the adolescent brain indicates that it continues to develop until at least the age of twenty-five. Still, it seems like a stretch that he wouldn’t have grasped the potentially disastrous consequences of his actions.”
“I get that, but it’s possible it got ahead of him, like he says. He says that he got started with Adderall. Even the honors kids use it—it’s wildly popular with the college-bound crowd, so Jonah had the perfect audience at his private high school. Fifteen bucks a pill, apparently.”
“So why didn’t he just stick with that?”
“Not clear. Honestly? I think he only got into opiates because he was trying to get in with the popular crowd. I mean, you saw him—scrawny kid, doesn’t have a lot going for him in the looks department. His parents probably push him hard academically. Maybe he saw an opening, or a kid he admired asked him to get something for him. And look—obviously we’re going to drill down all the way on this. I’ve got a team going around trying to trace every prescription that his dad wrote in the last six months. We’ll know more soon.”
“But what if he’s lying? Are you willing to guarantee him immunity from more serious charges if it turns out that he made up this whole story?”
“In the first place, I personally can’t guarantee him anything—that’s up to the DA. All I can do is make a recommendation. And in the second place, if there’s no body, there’s no deal—I made sure the lawyer understood that. Frankly, he expected it, I’m sure.”
“Well, I guess you don’t have a lot to lose then.”
“Exactly. So the thing is … Jonah didn’t know how long the body had been there, only that it was—in his words—‘messed up.’ Given your expertise, I wondered if you’d mind coming with me. If this really pans out, I’d like to get your take before County gets there.”
“You’re saying that until you confirm there’s a body, you don’t have to let them know?”
“That’s what I’m saying. There’s some that would call this a gray area … hell, I’m sure a lot of people would say I’m out of line not passing this along right away. But, I guess you can figure I’ve got my reasons.”
Gin was pretty sure she knew what he was referring to. At the time of Tuck’s appointment to Trumbull police chief, rumors abounded that he’d been forced out as a senior detective on the county force. Speculation was that he’d been given the choice of banishment—which some viewed a small-town posting to be—or resignation. As for the cause, there were plenty of unsubstantiated theories—everything from a corruption charge to sexual harassment to a rumor that he’d gotten in a physical fight with the county superintendent.
“All right,” Gin said, her mind racing to figure out if this would help or hurt Jake. In the end, though, it didn’t really matter. Gin really was the county’s best resource for decomp cases, and she wouldn’t decline if her skills could help.
“Great. Pick you up in fifteen minutes.”
“Wait, Tuck?” Gin considered asking if she could just meet Tuck at the station, but she didn’t want to risk leaving her car there in case Jake happened to drive by. It would be easy enough to explain what she was doing with Chief Baxter—if he’d pause long enough to listen, which seemed unlikely right now.
Which left one option: the truth. “I’m staying at my folks’ place. Can you pick me up there?”
“Everything okay with Richard and Madeleine?”
“Yes, everything’s fine.”
“Oh … okay. See you soon.”
8
She waited out front, perched on the iron bench under the portico, and experienced a strange moment of déjà vu: this was where she had waited countless times for Jake to pick her up for dates their senior year and the summer that followed.
They’d been so sure of themselves and their relationship back then. They were planning to attend college together—they’d both been accepted to Ohio State—and then they’d come back to Trumbull and begin their life together. Kids. House. Maybe a dog.
But that was the summer that Gin’s sister Lily disappeared, her body not to be found for seventeen years. Shattered by the loss, isolated from her grieving parents, Gin had grown distant from Jake. They split up; she attended Ohio State in Columbus and he went to a satellite campus. Gin found herself drawn to studying medicine, and as time went on without her sister’s case being solved, she accepted deep in her heart that Lily was probably dead.
She started medical school and the first time she’d entered the morgue, the hushed, reverent theater where they’d learned the secrets of the dead, she knew she was where she needed to be. Many years later when her sister’s body was discovered, Gin was able to assist in the case, and without her help it might never have been solved and the killer never identified.<
br />
A chilly breeze ruffled her lightweight blouse, and Gin shivered. Since the end of that case, she’d surprised herself by having no desire to return to her job in Chicago. She felt no regret at stepping off the career ladder and leaving behind the pressures of her staff position.
Instead she’d found a niche for herself here, a much less demanding role as a consultant to the county office on cases of decomposition. While volunteering with the Red Cross in Srebrenica, Gin had helped identify the remains of hundreds of men and boys killed in the conflict and buried in mass graves, and during that time had confronted horrors—the likes of which most of her colleagues would never see. She’d written scholarly articles on the techniques she and her colleagues had developed as well as testified at The Hague. Gin was proud of the work she’d done, but she didn’t seek attention for it; she’d felt uncomfortable with the praise that inevitably came her way after every article or speaking engagement or conference.
Gin was fond of her colleagues in Chicago, and she counted herself lucky to have worked under Chief Medical Examiner Reginald Osnos, an exceptional teacher and mentor. She had a warm relationship with the entire staff, even if it rarely extended to socializing outside of work.
But in the end, she always did her best work when she was alone with the dead.
She spotted Tuck’s SUV heading up the hill, and gathered her purse. He pulled into the circular drive and leaned out the window, his tanned, well-muscled arm resting on the sill.
“All set?” he asked. “I should have told you to wear clothes you don’t mind getting dirty. The location Jonah identified is set back in the woods. It’s some sort of hunting cabin.”
Gin looked down at her simple black skirt and silk blouse. “Can you give me a few minutes? I’ll just throw on jeans.”
“Sure.”
“Come on in. Mom’s got tea in the fridge, you can help yourself.”
“Well … okay, I guess. If you’re sure she wouldn’t mind.”
“No, it’s fine.” Gin led the way into the house, wondering if Tuck was remembering the only other time he’d been here, when he’d come to arrest her father. Richard had been caught in the crossfire of the investigation into Lily’s death and had briefly been a suspect. While the two men had a civil relationship, it had understandably been strained by Richard’s arrest.
“My parents are both out,” she said. “Mom’s at work and Dad’s gone to Johnstown for the day. He’s been working on his coin collection, and the dealer called about some rare item he’s thinking of buying.”
“Didn’t know Richard was a philatelist,” Tuck said.
“I’m surprised you know the term.”
“Gin, why do I always feel like you think I’ve got lead between my ears?” Tuck’s tone was teasing, but Gin paused with her hand on the newel post and turned to face him.
“You know that’s not true. I have nothing but respect for you and the work you’ve done.” She could feel her face warm with embarrassment.
“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Tuck laughed. “Nothing but respect. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you think I’m doing a decent job.”
Gin gave him an uncertain smile. He wouldn’t be flirting this way if he knew that she and Jake had hit pause on their relationship—even though he’d let her know that he’d like to take things further with her, if Jake was ever out of the picture.
“I’ll be right back,” she mumbled, racing up the stairs, pushing those thoughts out of her head. The fact that she might actually be single again was too much to consider right now.
She rifled through the drawers of her old dresser, looking for jeans, and not finding them. She’d been distracted when she unpacked. Giving up, she dug out a pair of running tights and a moisture-wicking pullover that she often wore for early morning runs along the hills above town. She kicked off her heels and pulled on her running shoes.
She headed back down the stairs and found Tuck standing in the hall that connected the kitchen to the butler’s pantry, looking at the collection of framed family photographs that her mother had hung there after remodeling the downstairs several years ago.
“She looked so much like your mother,” Tuck said softly.
Gin looked at the photo he was examining, and realized with surprise that her mother had added new photographs to the collection. There was one of Lily at age fifteen, holding a paintbrush and mugging for the camera with a smudge of paint on her cheek, back when she’d worked on the sets for the school musical. Her mother had always loved that picture of Lily, but after her disappearance nearly every photo of her had disappeared. It had been too painful for her parents to look at them day after day.
Now they were back, a palpable symbol of their healing. Somehow, that made Gin feel even worse about the problems with Jake—as though her parents had moved on without her.
“Everyone always said so,” she said wistfully. “My mother was something of a famous beauty, at least around here. Her debut made the society pages all the way to Philadelphia.”
“Your mom was a debutante?” Tuck shook his head, bemused. “I’m way out of my league. I wasn’t born with any silver spoons—more like a wrench.”
“Shall we get going?” Gin asked, anxious to reel in the direction of the conversation. She followed Tuck out to the car. Once they were on their way, he filled her in on the conversation with Jonah.
“He says he comes out here sometimes to run. I checked—he’s been on the cross-country team since his sophomore year, so that makes sense. His event is the mile. His coach confirmed that he puts in a lot of work on these roads.”
“Wow, you’ve already done a lot of background,” Gin said.
Tuck glanced at her, taking his eyes off the road for a second. “Gin…”
“I know, I know, you’re a professional. Look, Tuck, I don’t doubt your dedication. Anything you’ve got going on with County—well, you don’t have to explain yourself to me.” She paused. “I mean, unless you want to.”
“I’ll take that under advisement. Anyway, Jonah sketched out a loop that’s roughly seven miles that he says he does during training. It goes up along the ridge above Canterbury Estates, along Baker Road toward Route 51. There’s a path for most of it, and he says that where the path disappears—where it dips down to Saylor Creek—he’d run in the creek bed when it was dry, or up along the banks when it wasn’t. He said he’d been by the spot he told me about often enough that he noticed that someone or something had dug up an area a dozen yards from where he ran, but he wasn’t sure until after the rains last month. They washed away some of the dirt and branches that had been dragged over the site.”
“Have you already been there to check it out?”
“No, not yet. I wanted to avoid bringing Jonah unless necessary. Obviously if we don’t find anything today, we’ll have to, but I’d rather have you take a look and maybe you’ll come up with something that gives me some leverage with him. Assuming there really is a body.”
Gin gazed thoughtfully out the window at the passing scenery. There was a weak sun obscured by thin clouds, giving the view of the modest homes lining both sides of the road a dispirited quality. “You believe him, then?” she finally asked. “Earlier, you said that he might have been looking for a way to fit in with the cool crowd. Did you get the impression that he struggles socially?”
Tuck shrugged. “Who can say? Hell, all I know is what I see. I mean, as someone with a special needs kid—there’ve been kids who’ve gone out of their way to be kind to Cherie. And there’s others who’ve been downright cruel. I guess I’m saying that every kid is different. But he doesn’t have the swagger, you know?”
“Yes … I know.” Gin thought of Jake at that age—all attitude, with the reckless energy to back it up. Other boys at school had both feared and emulated him; girls couldn’t resist him. He’d had the kind of charisma that can’t be faked, though plenty of kids had tried. “And I also know how powerful the drive to fit in can be.”
“Yeah. I’m hoping I can spend some more time with him before County gets involved. If there is a body, I’m going to end up with Bruce and Liam on my ass, and once again, I’ll be persona non grata in my former department. And the way things stand with Wheeler, I’m fresh out of favors I can call in.”
“I didn’t realize it was that bad,” Gin admitted.
In Allegheny County, law enforcement at the local level was limited to minor crimes. Anything on the level of a major crime—including murder, violent assault, drug trafficking, and arson—was turned over to the county. Specialized services, such as crime scene investigation and forensic support, explosive ordnance disposal, SWAT, and cold case investigations also fell under the county umbrella.
When Jake’s father had been chief of police, he’d managed his officers with a casual approach. It had worked well enough with the old guard of the county officers. The lines between the departments had been blurred, and Lawrence Crosby had been involved with any number of cases in which the county took the official lead.
When Tuck took over, he’d made it clear that his would be a more disciplined department, with greater accountability and a clear chain of command. There had been some grumbling from the old guard, but in the months since then, Tuck had managed to win over his staff by being consistent, fair, and generous in giving credit to those who’d earned it.
But even as Tuck had tightened things up in Trumbull, the county officers were becoming more possessive of their cases. At least, that had been Gin’s experience with the homicide detectives with whom she regularly interacted with in the course of her consulting work. Bruce Stillman, the senior detective, was rude, possessive, even combative. And his partner Liam Witt was still too junior to override his partner’s actions. So Gin could understand the urgency Tuck felt to make some progress before he was ousted from the case.
“Why do you care about this one?” she asked quietly. “I mean … on behalf of Jake, I’m glad that you’re taking this seriously, rather than dismissing his mother’s death as just one more victim of the epidemic. But I don’t understand why you don’t just kick the can up the chain and let someone else pursue it.”
In the Darkest Hour Page 6
