Price of Innocence

by Patricia McLinn

  His boss was on the phone. He glared at him silently.

  After what felt like a lot longer than it could have been, the Chief of Detectives spoke into the phone, “Yes, sir. I intend to do that right now.”

  Then he hung up.

  Belichek didn’t give him a chance to draw breath. “This isn’t on Landis, sir.”

  “How do you know what—?”

  “The news conference, as you probably just heard. I’m the one who decided not to let my superiors — or Landis — know Jamison Chancellor is alive.”

  “You did. What do you think gives you the right—”

  “Because of exactly what happened with this podcaster putting out the word. We have a leak in the building.” That phone call with Landis. Had to be, but how…? “A major leak, who’s feeding information to this podcaster, who’s putting it out all over. Small stuff at first, but that shouldn’t be known outside the department. Stuff he couldn’t have known without someone inside.”

  Palery’s solitary blink was as good as a nod.

  “With that leak active I determined it was not safe to bring Ms. Chancellor in, nor to reveal her location and what information she has. I would have continued that way if she hadn’t insisted on returning to Fairlington. As this podcast shows, I was right. There was a leak. And now the information that she is alive is out to the world.”

  The chief and Belichek stared at each other, neither relenting.

  Finally, Palery said, “You said she returned here — where was she?”

  “Somewhere safe.”

  Still staring at Belichek, the Chief of Detectives said, “Sit. Both of you. You’re about to tell me everything. And I do mean everything.”

  “Landis was not part of this, sir,” he repeated. “Also, I’m reluctant to—”

  “You are not going to say the leaks came from my office.”

  Belichek wasn’t sold, but he relented. “No, sir.”

  “Good. Because, first, I’ve had this room routinely checked since that slime started blabbing things he shouldn’t have known, most of them about this section. And, second, the leaks concern things that never reached this office — matters that should have. Now, you are going to tell me all the facts concerning Jamison Chancellor turning up alive. And why you don’t look real rested for a man who’s had days off.”

  Belichek ignored that. “I stopped by Jamison Chancellor’s house this morning and—”

  He felt Landis’ eyes slice into him, but kept his attention on Palery, who boomed, “I told you, I ordered you—”

  “—had a hell of a surprise.” He kept on, upping his volume to top Palery. “Jamison Chancellor was there.”

  “—to stay away from—”

  Palery didn’t just stop shouting, he seemed to shut down — moving, breathing, blinking. Nothing. Absolutely still.

  “Shit,” Landis breathed under his breath. “That’s—”

  Belichek cut off his partner.

  “Screw off, Landis, I’m not nuts. This is no hallucination. This is the living, breathing Jamison Chancellor.” Landis’ glare said he wasn’t thanking Belichek for cutting him free of this. Too bad. He wasn’t taking his partner down with him. “We got the wrong ID on the corpse.”

  The tenor of Landis’ sotto voce swearing shifted into a cross between wonder and irritation.

  “Jamison Chancellor was in North Carolina, working on her book, not connected to the outside world. She does not know who the victim is. She did not give anyone permission to be in her house. However, multiple people have a key to her house.”

  “Including her. Where is she?” Palery demanded, still unnaturally still.

  “Somewhere safe. I wanted to see how you wanted to play it before I brought her in. And—” He rested his palms on the desk and leaned forward. “—I wanted it to be damn straight that I’m back on this case.”

  Only Palery’s eyes moved. They went to Landis.

  Belichek looked over his shoulder at his partner.

  Landis suppressed whatever emotions boiled beneath his stormy face, tense shoulders and tight mouth, and jerked out a nod.

  Palery straightened. “First, we’ll have to figure out a safe way to bring her in here. Especially with the media. Her family—”

  “There is no way. It’s not safe. As for family, she insisted on contacting her parents. I impressed on them the importance of not letting this out. Maggie Frye knows, too. They’re together now.”

  “I see that.”

  Belichek spun around in the direction of the Chief of Detective’s gaze.

  Jamison Chancellor strode through the bullpen heading toward this office, with Maggie in her wake.

  * * * *

  The coffee in Hendrickson York’s cup slopped to the brim.

  He put it down on his desk, looking toward the door. The door was closed. No one could see him.

  He stared at the screen again.

  Alive.

  Was that possible?

  That’s what the bulletin on his screen said.

  Then it said the statement that the body found at her house was not Jamison Chancellor and Jamison Chancellor was alive, was from a report on some podcast.

  He clicked on the link to read the entire article. It was only four paragraphs and everything new it said was attributed to a podcast called Death, Murder, Violence.

  He clicked to that site.

  His top lip curled. Self-aggrandizement at its most blatant.

  Who could believe a source like this?

  No. It had to be this podcaster fellow seeking attention.

  He reached to close the screen.

  A scream from beyond the door jolted his hand. It knocked the cup, spewing coffee.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  Jenkins and others gaped at Maggie Frye being second — to anybody. Terrington, coming in from the back stairs, stared without awareness of the identity of the female he was ogling. Danolin recognized her. He choked on his coffee.

  A perfunctory knock, then she was in the room.

  “Hello. I’m Jamison Chancellor. I believe you’ve thought I was dead. I am not.”

  Belichek thought he had a glimpse of how she’d handled those businesses when she was a kid, and why they might have donated before they were fully aware they had.

  “I was made aware of that a short time ago, Ms. Chancellor. My detectives—”

  Belichek said, “It was me. It wasn’t La—”

  Jamie interrupted him. “This has nothing to do with Detectives Belichek or Landis.”

  Belichek stood and gestured Jamie to the chair. She shook her head.

  “Let me get this straight, then. Your flight came in this morning—”

  “No.”

  Palery nodded, as if he understood, agreed. “We’ve checked every flight in and out of National, Dulles, and BWI from the Friday before Labor Day. Jamison Chancellor wasn’t on any of those flights.”

  It didn’t fluster her. “I drove. To and from the cabin where I stayed in North Carolina. Arrived home last night.”

  Belichek kept his eyes on Jamie, sending her messages to shut up that she refused to receive, yet felt Palery’s sharpened attention.

  “You didn’t call anybody when you got home?”

  “It was late. Plus, I planned to decompress a couple days at home.”

  “You didn’t notice anything in your house? Read a newspaper? Hear a news report? See an online story?”

  “I was lying low. I thought… I thought I noticed some things gone last night, but I was not calling the police until I’d slept. And then I slept very late. Besides, from the layer of dust on everything, I knew whatever was taken, it happened weeks ago. So, what difference would it make if I didn’t call the police right away? Even a couple more days.”

  She truly wasn’t a good liar. Ardent, but not practiced. She shouldn’t have gone into the detail of the dust.

  Palery might not know when her place was cleaned, then again, he might. Not worth the gamble. />
  “You needed food, didn’t you?” Palery asked her. Still with an air of mild curiosity.

  “Made do with what was in the freezer and the pantry. But mostly I slept. Until I heard a report that made me realize the Fairlington Police Department had the mistaken impression that I’m dead. I came directly here to clear that up.”

  “And we’re certainly glad that you are not dead, Ms. Chancellor. However, someone is. A violent death. In your house.”

  Jamie didn’t waver. “I know. Now.”

  But Belichek knew his boss. He was loaded for bear, and aiming at Jamie.

  “Sir, what she said isn’t true. She didn’t come in last night and sleep through until this morning. I’ve been questioning her and while this isn’t—”

  “Orthodox.” His boss held his gaze, issuing clear commands to shut up. “Or according to the book. Or any of a hundred other things I’ve complained about you — and Landis — being. And after this is all over—”

  Belichek shot a look at his partner to see if he was getting the same message. He was.

  “—we will have a … conversation. A long, detailed conversation with consequences. But right now, what matters is solving this case. Finding the killer and getting a conviction.”

  “We’ll get a conviction,” Maggie said.

  The Chief of Detectives shot her a look that did not include gratitude.

  “Ms. Chancellor, I want you to consider what I say now very carefully. It’s imperative that you tell us everything, whether we specifically ask you about it or not. The questioning will be long and tedious—”

  She emitted a snort that said it already had been long and tedious.

  “—but we will get to the answers. We’ll put you in protective custody and—”

  “No thank you. I have other arrangements.”

  “You don’t understand the seriousness of this situation.”

  She said nothing.

  The Chief of Detectives let the silence spread.

  But silence could be as stubborn as any words and hers was.

  “Ms. Chancellor, you could be charged with obstructing justice.”

  “Are you going to charge me?”

  “Don’t tempt me. Also, don’t lie to me or other investigators. You’re not good at it.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “You did and, as I said, you’re not good at it. This has nothing to do with Detectives Belichek or Landis. According to your story, the longest you could know Ford was an hour and you’ve never been introduced to Tanner. Yet, you not only knew their names, the first thing you did was absolve them of involvement.”

  Jamie swallowed twice, but she did a decent job with her expression. And her posture straightened slightly.

  “I will repeat that no fault should attach to Detectives Belichek and Landis. I will also tell you, I have protection.”

  “Who?” It clicked. “Belichek? He is not officially on the case. He is on vacation. He cannot— You cannot—”

  “I can. I’m a private citizen. Unless you are about to charge me with something? Though I can’t think that would be good publicity for the department after thinking I was the one dead. And especially not when I tell my story and am proven entirely innocent of any wrongdoing.”

  Muscles at the corners of Palery’s eyes flinched.

  “Are you charging me with something?” She sent her challenging look from Palery to Landis to him.

  “We strongly advise—”

  “Are you charging me with something?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Then I’m leaving.”

  “We will need to talk to you—” Palery sent a cold look from Belichek to Landis. “—again. Officially. And soon.”

  “Fine.” She turned without looking at anyone in the office, which took some doing with not much room left over from the people.

  Maggie grimaced at Belichek, then went after her cousin.

  He could swear he heard her saying, “I told you you’re not a good liar.”

  * * * *

  Belichek was out of his chair when Palery said, “You two have your asses in a sling. The only way you have a chance in hell of getting them out is to solve this thing fast. If you’ve— No. That’s for later. Landis, I believe you were issuing orders earlier. Get back to that. As for you, Belichek, you better not let your witness get away. Or get dead. Or talk to the damned media.”

  “Am I back on—”

  “Get the hell out of here while you’re still in the department.”

  They sir’ed him, left the office. As they walked across the bullpen, Landis said, “She really is a lousy liar.”

  Belichek heard relief in that. His partner hadn’t bought in a hundred percent that Jamie couldn’t have killed Bethany Usher. He’d gone along on Belichek’s assessment.

  “Yeah.”

  They exchanged a short look, then split up.

  Terrington followed Belichek toward the back stairs, out of sight of Palery’s office. “Belichek, wait up.”

  “Landis is calling you.”

  “But why’s Palery on your ass? Where have you been?”

  He kept going. “On vacation.”

  * * * *

  He caught up with Jamie and Maggie by jogging down the steps, arriving as elevator doors opened in the parking garage, revealing them.

  “What the hell, Maggie?”

  “Nancy called and told me about the news conference. Jamie—”

  Jamie said, “Don’t ask her. And don’t blame her. I—”

  “—was halfway to the main road to—”

  “—made the decision to come here. To get it all out.”

  “—flag down a taxi so your address wasn’t connected to her. I tried to tell her—”

  “And I didn’t listen. Be quiet, Maggie. This is mine to tell. You and Landis are not falling on your swords for me, Belichek. I’m sorry I blew it by using your names. I’m not good at that sort of thing.” She truly seemed to regret being a lousy liar. “I was surprised…”

  “Surprised?” She’d taken a turn and he hadn’t followed it.

  “By your office. It looks so … ordinary.”

  He didn’t care about the office’s ordinariness.

  But she’d turned the conversation for a reason.

  He’d been pushing and prodding at her and he wasn’t going to stop if that was the best way to get this resolved with her safe. But interviews — even interrogations — were not one-way streets.

  He’d follow — for now — to see where she wanted to go.

  “You expected manacles attached to the walls? A display of whips and chains?” he asked.

  “No. But I wasn’t expecting just an office. It could be almost any office.” She turned her head. “Though it has fewer plants.”

  “Yeah? Yours isn’t exactly the Taj Mahal.”

  In the look she flicked at him, he knew she was taking in that he’d been in that part of her life as well as her home and her past.

  “Don’t want to waste any of the donors’ money on décor.”

  “Same with us, except the donations aren’t voluntary. They’re taxpayers. Makes them crankier about money being spent on decorative details.”

  Her mouth twitched and the corners of her eyes lifted. “Because you all would love decorative details.”

  “Oh, a few pillows, maybe lampshades, and, uh, different artwork wouldn’t go amiss.”

  “I’m sure they wouldn’t.”

  She looked toward Maggie.

  Belatedly, he realized how still and quiet she’d been. He looked at her, then immediately away.

  Jamie turned to a diagram on the wall of where they were. “We should have gotten off at street level to catch a cab.”

  “You are not taking a cab back to my house,” he ordered.

  “No, I’m not.”

  He started to relax.

  “I’m going to the Sunshine Foundation.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  Danolin ambled over
as if it were the boringest day in the boringest month of the boringest day. Instead of him being loaded down with assignments, including checking the string of guests Jamie had given keys to.

  “Celeste Renfro did sell her house, and her possessions were in storage for less than a month before the movers took them to her new address. That’s from the storage portion of what she paid the movers. For exactly how long, they’d have to go into the detailed records of the storage facility, which, it turns out, is on an older computer system that’s being replaced now. Upshot is, they’d have to scroll through all the old records. Want me to get that?”

  “Not yet. We’ll see if we need it later. Danolin, I’ve got—”

  He rumbled an acknowledgment. “Hendrickson York’s condo building did have a water issue. Water was turned off for three days, while it was fixed. About half the residents toughed it out and stayed there. Of the other half, Hendrickson York was the last one back. They joked that he must have finally found a place where the service was up to his standards.”

  “Okay. Thanks. Put it in the report—”

  “I always do. Adam Delattre has been in his current apartment since the end of May. Good tenant. No problems. His previous address, the lease was not in his name.”

  “We know. He had roommates. We talked to them.”

  “Nobody where he lives now — been there since February — seems to know anything about him. Lot of young kids. Want me to try more tomorrow?”

  “You workaholic, you. How about now?”

  “I’m going home for dinner.”

  Landis tried to not sigh. You took the bad with the good when it came to Danolin.

  “February,” he repeated. “Damn. Should have realized that before. Jamie changed the locks in March because of her neighbor. Never mind that follow up.”

  “Good with me. By the way, they’re waiting for you to talk to that podcaster in Interview Two.”

  * * * *

  “No way in hell are you going to the Sunshine Foundation, Jamie,” Maggie said.

  “I have to. Right away. If they’ve heard— The shock—”

  “They’ve survived the shock of your death, they can deal with you being alive.”

  Maggie’s reasoning didn’t sway Jamie.