CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jayson stood in his office thumbing through one of several thick folders stacked on his desk containing documents about the Stone case. As usual, he had discarded his jacket. He had also opened the window blinds behind him. The meteorologist on the news had predicted a hot, humid day, but Jayson always kept the temperature in his office very cool so he could enjoy the natural sunlight of the morning. His first appointment wouldn’t arrive until ten o’clock, so he had nearly an hour to complete his task. He suspended his search long enough to check the time and scan the waiting room. It was empty with the exception of Tenika, who sat at her desk reviewing June—the previous month—expenses.
His thoughts drifted back to last week’s argument with Renee. She had apologized the following morning, as he had expected. They had even made somewhat tepid love the next night, but during the following weekend she had been a bit distant with him emotionally and physically. Jayson skimmed a police report and brooded because Renee had always played the “withdrawal of affection” game better than he did. He had decided he would simply have to wait her out and focus his energy on Jennifer and on his work, Renee’s disapproval notwithstanding. Jayson chuckled sadly at how quickly his life had changed in seven weeks since Judge O’Hare had asked him to take over the Stone case.
He blinked and returned his full attention to his task. He flipped pages of documents, being careful to avoid the photographs of twelve-year-old Veronica Bradley’s body, until he eventually found what he sought—the affidavit for a warrant to search Brian Stone’s apartment. Officer Alexis Washington had prepared it. The young policewoman had hustled up a judge for the search warrant without consulting the ADA on duty—at her partner’s insistence, Jayson believed. No doubt Scott had smelled a grand opportunity for personal glory.
Jayson read the name on the warrant and laughed out loud. Simon Wickham. Everybody knew that late in the evening even a circus clown could stop by the Purple Rose Tavern in the affluent Boston community of West Roxbury and get Judge Simon Wickham to sign anything, especially after he had consumed his third martini.
Jayson reread the affidavit. Other than the names of the principles involved, he didn’t believe a word of it. “Lying bastards,” he whispered.
He heard a knock, raised his head and waved, giving Connie permission to enter. He resisted the urge to comment about her being a bit late to work. After exchanging good mornings and plans for the impending Fourth of July holiday, Jayson got down to business. “Well, did you and your detective friend go out Friday or Saturday night after all?”
Connie nodded. “Um-hmm. She had to cancel on me before, because she had to work, but we went out on Saturday.”
“And?” Jayson asked.
“We met a couple of guys. She kinda liked hers, but as far as mine, I don’t really go for men with beards.”
Jayson couldn’t help but laugh. “Connie, you know that’s not what I meant.” He fell backwards into his plush, comfortable chair while maintaining eye contact with her. “Did you learn anything else about those two police officers?”
Connie giggled. “I know. I’m just messing with you.” She sat in one of two chairs on the other side of his desk. “Well, my friend told me Gary Scott has a history of disappearing while on the job; he’s even been reprimanded for it a couple of times.”
Jayson rubbed his chin. “Really? Did she say why?”
Connie shook her head. “Most people think he’s got some floozy stashed away he’s doing the horizontal dance with on company time.” She rolled her eyes. “You know how you men are.”
Jayson shrugged. “Not really. Anything else?”
“According to the grapevine, the other cop, Alexis Washington, is kinda scared of Scott. He’s told people she made so many stupid mistakes in her first year if he hadn’t covered for her, she would’ve never made it past probation.”
“What kind of mistakes?
“My friend didn’t say.”
“So Washington owes him, huh?”
“Um-hmm.”
Jayson leaned back in his chair and rocked a bit. “Connie, you’ve done real well, but—”
“And one more thing.”
“Yes?”
Connie pushed her hair away from her forehead. “They’re called ‘The Protectors.’”
“Who?”
“Scott’s little secret group,” Connie said. She folded her hands. “That’s all I know.”
Jayson grabbed a pen and scribbled the word on a notepad. He pressed his fist against his mouth, thinking for a few seconds, then stood. “Connie, I’m really impressed with the intelligence you’ve gathered, but this is as far as you go.”
She frowned and got on her feet as well. “How come?”
“Because these things have a way of turning ugly,” Jayson replied. “Next thing you know, cops are pulling you over for traffic violations or following you around.”
“I’m not afraid, Jaymeister. I can—”
“No, Connie, no more,” Jayson ordered. His lowered voice indicated he was serious. “Now you know I don’t pull rank around here too often, but that’s a directive I insist you follow for your own good.”
“But I can just—”
“I don’t want to have to say it again, Connie” Jayson warned. His voice had become even sterner. An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Jayson began shuffling papers on his desk, then shoving documents into folders. He kept his eyes downward.
Connie backed up a couple of steps, turned and reached for the doorknob. “O-frickin’-kay, Papi. Only because I know you’re doing this because you love me.”
Jayson didn’t look up, but he smiled. “It’s not that. It’s just I don’t want you coming even later to work than you already do because cops are stopping you.” He had returned to his usual playful tone but kept his focus on his papers. He didn’t want Connie to recognize he felt a little guilty about sending her on a reconnaissance mission, potentially exposing her to harassment. He waited, expecting to hear the door open and close. Instead he heard Connie’s voice yet again.
“Um, Jayson?”
“Yes?”
“Did Victor say anything to you about last week—about his birthday, I mean?”
Jayson continued stuffing papers into folders and sighed. “Connie, you know I don’t get all into your—” He raised his head and recognized the look of vulnerability in Connie’s piercing brown eyes. He immediately felt compassion for her. He had in fact made a polite inquiry to Victor about his birthday. Victor had only replied it had been “fine.” Jayson shrugged. “Um, I asked him about his birthday and he told me he had a good time and enjoyed your company.”
Connie beamed at the news. “Did he tell you about our kiss?”
Jayson shook his head. “No, we didn’t get into specifics.”
Connie took a step forward. “Well, I kissed him goodnight on the mouth and he didn’t seem to mind. I mean, he didn’t throw up or anything.”
Jayson chuckled. “Well, that’s always a good sign.”
“Did he say whether he—”
“Would you please go type up that witness statement you took on the Johnson case, the one I’ve been asking you for since Friday?” Jayson moaned. His face displayed mock pain as he pointed to the door. “Please.”
“Okay, okay. But just for that you’re not invited to our wedding,” Connie joked and scurried out the door. She returned and stuck her head back in. “Did you know Victor speaks fluent Chinese and Spanish?”
“Get!” Jayson yelled. He laughed and shook his head. As Connie closed the door he stacked his folders into a neat pile and sat down, then picked up his electronic organizer, punched a few buttons and picked up the telephone. After a few seconds he heard a female voice. “Hello, Michelle, this is Jayson Cook,” he said. “How are things at Channel Eight?”
“Jayson, I’m glad you called,” Michelle said.
“You are?”
“Yeah,” she replied and paused. “Um, I haven’t heard anythi
ng from Victor in a while. Has he said anything to you about me?”
You’ve got to be frickin’ kidding me, Jayson thought. First Connie, now Michelle. Who had he hired for an intern, Adonis? Jayson detected loneliness in the reporter’s voice but thought it best not to get into his intern’s private life. “Um, well, Michelle, you know, Victor and I pretty much just talk business.”
After a few seconds of silence, Michelle returned to her professional tone. “Oh, okay. What can I do for you?”
Jayson repeated all the information about Boston police officers Scott and Washington that Connie, on two separate days, had reported to him. “What do you think?” he asked. “Something to look into? Might be a good story.”
“Yeah, if there’s something to it,” Michelle replied. “Tell you what, I’ll do a little poking around.”
“Fair enough,” Jayson said. The two agreed to keep in touch and hung up. Jayson checked his watch and looked up in time to see Tenika approaching. He waved her in.
She entered, walked all the way to Jayson’s chair, and whispered. “It’s her again—Ms. Thang—on the phone.”
Jayson felt his heartbeat accelerate. He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. “Tell her I’ll call her back in, um—no, I’ll take it.”
Tenika frowned. “Jayson, something’s obviously not right. Let me help.” She spoke soothingly, like a mother talking to a child.
Jayson shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t. But it’s not what you think. The woman and I have never been involved, but this is something I have to take care of myself.” He squeezed Tenika’s hand. “I appreciate the offer. I really do.” He sighed again. “Put her through and close the door behind you, please.”
Tenika nodded and followed his instructions.
Jayson picked up the telephone and tried to sound nonchalant. “Hello?”
“Thought you were pretty damn cute, calling my house, huh, smart ass?”
“So nice to hear from you, Leslie, but you sound upset,” Jayson replied. “Why don’t you call me back when you’ve calmed down?”
“I’m calm,” Leslie retorted. “Meet me today at Vivid Dreams at six o’clock and you can give me that gift we talked about the other day.”
Jayson winced. “Meet you at Vivid Dreams? A strip club? I don’t think so.”
“You chose the first place,” Leslie said. “Now it’s my turn.”
“I can’t meet you today anyway, Leslie. I have to—”
“You meet me at six today, Goddamn it,” Lesly growled, “or I swear to God after we hang up I’m calling the fucking media and give them a fucking earful!”
Jayson thought for a few seconds. He knew the best thing to do would be to buy more time until he came up with a plan to get Leslie out of his life. “Okay,” he said.
“And don’t forget my gift. You know where the place is?”
“I’ll find it. I have to go,” Jayson said and hung up.
He took a deep breath and massaged his forehead with his fingertips. He blinked a couple of times and reached for the recent photograph on his desk of himself, Renee and Jennifer, decked out in their Sunday best. He studied their smiles conveying happiness, love and harmony, and replaced the picture.
He couldn’t let this shrew hurt his family, but he knew if he paid Leslie, she would return again and again, like a dog that’s been fed from the dinner table. He could have her arrested for extortion, but much as he would like to make her disappear permanently, he knew he could never take any steps to harm her in any way. Leslie Melendez was many things, but most of all she was still the woman who had given his daughter life. Besides, having her arrested would guarantee his secret would be exposed.
Jayson had an idea. He picked up the telephone again, pushed a few buttons and waited. “Hello,” he said, “this is Jayson Cook. I need to speak to Samira Rahmani right away.”
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Guilt by Association Page 16
