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A Killer Cover Up

Page 7

by Danielle Collins


  Then, as if coalescing into one, the image formed the exact one from the email. It was there and gone, but Margot saw Dexter noting things in a notebook next to him. Then, moving past what they’d seen from the email, the man stepped closer, blocking their view of Julian, and stuck his hand behind his back. The next moment, Margot gasped as he drew a gun from a holster at his back.

  The motion was over and gone so fast that Margot wasn’t sure if she’d actually seen it, but then the man’s arm was positioned, the gun facing Julian. It was torture, watching what had to be the last minutes of Julian’s life and wondering what he must have been going through.

  Margot braced herself, certain they were going to watch her husband be killed, but then the two walked off down the alleyway and out of sight of the camera. The footage continued, nothing changing, and Dexter reached up to pause it.

  “That’s it?” Adam said, squeezing Margot’s hand before releasing it.

  “Looks like it,” Dexter said. “Though we’ll watch it through to the end to make sure that guy doesn’t come back. If he does, we might get a better angle on his face.”

  “Good. Do that.” Adam looked at Margot to make sure she was doing all right.

  She nodded back at him and he continued.

  “What can you do with this, Dexter?” Adam asked.

  “We’ll analyze it to gain insight into the area, the angles, and see if I can pull anything off of reflective surfaces in the footage. It’s not great, but I’ll see what I can do. We should also get someone in here to try and read his lips. That might give us a clue as well.”

  “Sounds good. Let’s throw everything we have at this.” Adam turned to Margot. “Let’s get you home.”

  She was going to protest, to try and stay and help, but she felt more drained than anything else. What could she contribute? Dexter and Simon would analyze the footage, a linguist would deal with the lip-reading, and she…she had no place here.

  “All right,” she said, feeling defeated as much as she was exhausted. It had been a long day and she was emotionally spent, more so than she’d have expected.

  Now, she’d just have to wait and see what the next break in the case would be.

  Margot sat curled up on the couch with Clint by her side. She’d firmly told him no when he’d tried to get up the first time, but seeing his liquid chocolate, puppy dog eyes and feeling as off-kilter as she did, she’d relented. He now lay with his legs stretched out, his head resting on her feet.

  Part of her wished Adam could have stayed, at least for a little while, but he’d only seen her to her door then, with a soft parting kiss, told her he was going back to the station. She understood, it was his job and he had a big case to tackle, but she was jarred after seeing Julian.

  She went to reach for the remote and her hand stilled, seeing Julian’s journal still there. Adam should have taken it to the station to analyze, but he had likely forgotten. She ran a hand over the worn leather and pulled it to her. Perhaps reading his words would help with some of the ache she felt in her chest after seeing him. Even if they were words directed toward helping him become a better detective.

  Rather than start at the beginning, she flipped to a few weeks before the section that was torn out. As she read, she took note of people Julian mentioned multiple times. There was his partner Jeff, who’d long since moved to the west coast, Kathleen Cho, and then a few other people she didn’t remember. Margot had always been better at faces than names.

  She turned the page and began reading another case regarding a drug bust. She skimmed over the details, but her eyes snagged on another name. Richard Westerly. The name was familiar to her, but she couldn’t place why. As she read on, she found that he was new to the North Bank PD at the time. Julian seemed to have a lot of respect for him.

  As she read on about this specific case, she caught hints of something that bothered her. It was an underlying suspicion that Julian had, not directed at Richard, but what he said seemed to hint that Richard either knew or shared his thoughts.

  She read on, turning page after page. She could see the pattern clearly now. He wove the thoughts about this other case—though he didn’t call it that—subtly into his other observations. Nothing oblique, but it was there if you knew Julian and knew how his mind worked. Like Margot did.

  On a whim, she shot Adam a text asking if he knew a Richard Westerly who’d once worked at the station. A few minutes later, he replied with exactly what she’d hoped. He no longer worked there but still lived in the area.

  Adam also knew how her mind worked and sent a text back asking if they should visit Mr. Westerly. She smiled at this, loving the fact that her husband-to-be knew her so well, and then replied with an affirmative. He agreed and said he’d set it up for the next day. The mere fact that he didn’t even have to ask her what it was about bolstered her spirits.

  “He’s a good guy,” she said to Clint, scratching behind his ears. He closed his eyes in response, as if to agree, and some of Margot’s anxiety began to melt. There was always hope, even when it seemed there was nothing left to go on. Julian had always told her this and she needed to remember it now more than ever.

  9

  Margot took a deep breath of fresh air as she and Adam walked to his car. She was getting tired of the house arrest, as she’d labeled it, but Adam insisted on it seeing as how they still didn’t have Paul’s killer in custody. She knew he wouldn’t take any chances, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

  Adam typed in the address he’d gotten for Richard Westerly and they set off toward his condo on the north end of town. The morning sun was vibrant, reflecting off the Potomac River as it ran along the highway. Margot usually loved mornings like this, but her mind was busy trying to come up with the answers to the multiple questions she had about not only Paul’s death, but Julian’s as well.

  “Are you going to tell me who exactly Richard Westerly is?” Adam said, his tone light and playful.

  She knew he hadn’t been getting much sleep and that this was taking time away from his work on the investigation, but she also appreciated the fact that he was willing to come along with her. Perhaps it was because he knew she’d go on her own if he didn’t.

  “I was reading through Julian’s journals last night.”

  “I really should take that in for evaluation,” Adam said, shooting her a glance.

  “I know. I’m sure I’m breaking many rules by having it, but I did find something interesting.”

  “Richard Westerly.”

  She smiled. “Yes, him. I went back a few weeks before the section where the pages were missing. I wasn’t sure if I’d come up with anything, but I think I did.”

  “And what is that?”

  “I think that Julian was subtly investigating something going on at the precinct.”

  Adam turned to look at her. “Really?”

  “I know that’s a very serious allegation and I can’t speak as to what it was or who it might involve, but I think that the people listed in those pages—the ones not involved with the cases he was writing about specifically—may have something to do with it all.”

  “And this Westerly fellow is one?”

  She nodded, more to herself than Adam. “I don’t think that Julian suspected him exactly, but I think it was more the fact that he was mentioned during that time. I think we need to speak with him to get a feeling for what was going on.”

  “Because this is likely all connected to what happened back then?” Adam mused.

  “It has to be. It seems too much of a coincidence that Paul would email me then be killed off. The email was specific to Julian and Julian’s death. Just because that VHS didn’t show him being murdered doesn’t mean it isn’t about his murder.”

  “True. Anyone would be hard-pressed to argue that seeing a man pulling a gun on another man who was later gunned down isn’t evidence that that man did the shooting.”

  “Right,” she agreed, trying to mentally distance herself from t
he situation and the fact that the man who was gunned down had been her husband. “I just think we need to accept the fact that what happened then has ramifications—and a link—to something that is going on now.”

  Adam turned the car down a sleepy street and they began looking for the house number.

  “I don’t mean to disagree with you, but I’m in that precinct now and I can almost guarantee that there is no corruption going on.”

  Margot had thought of this as well. It seemed impossible to know for certain, but she did trust Adam’s instincts.

  “I believe you, and maybe it’s not that. Maybe it’s something else.”

  “But it would have to transcend the time. Six years is a long time. And then what is Paul’s part in all of this?”

  “I’m not sure,” she admitted, sounding more dejected than she wanted to admit, but by then, they’d found Richard’s house.

  “Here we are. And maybe we’ll find the answers that we need.”

  Margot got out of the car and followed Adam up the steps toward the front door of a small, bottom-level condo. He rang the doorbell and they waited.

  “Hello?” The door swung inward to reveal a tall, thin man with a bald head and clear blue eyes.

  “Hello, Mister Westerly,” Adam said, pulling his badge out of habit. “I’m Detective Eastwood and this is Margot Durand.”

  “Durand,” Westerly said, his gaze sliding to Margot. “Julian’s wife?”

  “Yes,” she said, offering a small smile.

  “Uh, what can I do for you?” Westerly said, looking between them both.

  “We have a few questions for you about Detective Durand and the station six years ago. Could we come in for a few minutes?”

  “Oh, sure, of course.” He stood back and welcomed them into a small but tidy space. There wasn’t much in the way of decoration, but what was there remained clean and functional. “Have a seat.” He indicated three chairs at the small, round dining table.

  “Thank you,” Adam said. “We won’t take up much of your time, Mister Westerly.”

  “Are you kidding?” Westerly laughed. “Take up as much as you like. I love reliving the old days. And please, call me Richard.”

  “Richard,” Margot ventured, sliding a glance to Adam first. “I recently found a journal of Julian’s.”

  “Yep, I remember it. He was always jotting notes in there about cases.”

  “He mentioned you,” she continued.

  “Hope it was good,” the man said with a good-natured laugh.

  “Yes.” She offered a small smile. “But I was wondering if you could enlighten me as to what was going on during the time.” She pulled out a sheet of paper where she’d copied a few passages from Julian’s journal. “My husband had mentioned something about records that weren’t making sense. And…” She turned the page. “…something about a discrepancy.”

  “Ah yes,” Richard said, leaning back. “Say. You all want coffee?”

  Adam declined for them both.

  “Well, at the time—and it was never uncovered, mind you—there was a few discrepancies with the evidence login information. I worked down toward the evidence room back in those days and I remember Julian going back and forth a few times. It was more than normal so he filled me in a little. He’d asked me to keep an eye out on who went in and at what times. Really secrecy-stuff. I’d spent a good portion of my day behind a desk due to some injuries, so I wanted in on the action.”

  Margot felt her pulse race. “What did you discover?”

  “Unfortunately, not much.”

  Margot’s hopes began to sink.

  “What did you report to Julian?’

  “Turns out that there were quite a few regulars to the evidence room, but that was normal. I kept a list, but it felt silly knowing that cops had to go in and report evidence. I did see Kathleen Cho go in there a lot, same with Bob Steelton and then a young hotshot named Eli.” He scrunched up his face. “Eli…something. Mind’s not what it used to be.”

  “Those were the irregulars?” Adam asked, looking up from his phone where he’d typed in the names.

  “Not exactly. They just came in at odd times and Julian had seemed most interested in them. But he didn’t share his results with me and then…” He trailed off before mentioning Julian’s death.

  “Did you have any suspicions?” Adam asked.

  “Not really. I mean, word in the department was Kathleen was friendly with a few officers and the evidence room was…private. If you know what I mean.” They did. “As for Bob and Eli, they were just really good at their jobs.”

  “How so?” Adam asked.

  “Bob was working in the low-income district and always came in with a lot of evidence. Guns, drugs, you name it. Same with Eli.”

  “They worked together?” Margot asked.

  “No, but Eli was young and had this kind of zeal about him. He worked harder and longer hours than any one I knew, which made his frequent trips to the evidence lockers understandable.”

  Margot sighed. This was turning out to be a dead end.

  “Thank you so much for your time, Richard,” Adam said, standing.

  “Sure you don’t want to hear more stories from the good old days?” He laughed and patted Adam on the back.

  “Maybe another time.”

  “You stop by any time,” Richard said, waving as they left his condo.

  While it had been interesting to hear from his perspective, it also hadn’t given them a direction to turn in.

  Just then, Adam’s phone rang. He paused at the car, still standing next to Margot as he answered. He spoke only a few words then hung up, turning to look at Margot.

  “Who was that?” she asked, knowing that something had happened by the look on Adams face.

  “Les. They’ve found Paul’s killer.”

  Margot was trying to make sense of it all. Les had said the man was found in Williamston and was being held by the department there, but that he wasn’t going to be released into North Bank PD’s hands.

  “Is this some type of county dispute?” she asked.

  “Not exactly. They caught this guy, Tim Kyle, for something else, armed robbery, and I think they want to prosecute in Williamston, even though we’ve got him for murder. I’m sure we can work something out.”

  Margot hoped so, but she was also confused. From what Richard said, there had been something going on in the NBPD. She knew that most would argue with her on that, he himself had said there was nothing suspicious except for an extramarital relationship and overachieving cops, but that didn’t ring true to what Margot knew of her husband. He didn’t see things that weren’t there.

  But now this. A man found in Williamston who was just a petty criminal? “I don’t get it, Adam.” She worried her bottom lip. “Do we think that he just accidentally killed Paul? It doesn’t add up.”

  “No. I don’t know what to think, but that’s why we’re heading down there now. We can at least question him there and then get a handle on what the motive might have been. If he cooperates and doesn’t lawyer up right away.”

  “We can only hope.”

  The ride went quickly and soon, they were walking in to the Williamston station. Adam handled the details as Margot walked around the room. Several photos lined the room and she saw one listing the current sheriff. He had light blonde hair and a weak smile.

  “Make way!”

  The front doors bust open and EMTs rushed in, heading down the hall toward the back of the building. Margot’s eyes flew wide open.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, coming up to Adam as they stayed to the side to allow the emergency personnel to get past.

  “I don’t know but I’ll find out.” He stepped over to an officer and was directed to another. After a few short moments of conversation with the second officer, he came back to Margot, the look on his face immediately alerting her to the fact that something was not right.

  “What is it? What’s happened?”

&nb
sp; “It’s Tim Kyle. He’s dead.”

  Margot’s mind reeled with the news. The very man they had come to see and now he was gone, without hope of them ever finding out why he’d killed Paul. If he had been put up to it, they’d never know, unless they found evidence of that wherever he lived or with his personal belongings.

  “Come on,” Adam said, leading her toward the exit. “We’ll have to approach this another way.”

  When they were back in the car headed up to North Bank, she asked him what he’d meant. “What other way is there?”

  “I’m going to have my guys look into this Tim Kyle. I know he has a rap sheet, but it’s possible there is more. Bank accounts. Social media. Personal things that can be looked into. There has to be some association he had with Paul, or someone related to this whole thing, that will come up.” Adam’s tone darkened. “At least I hope so.”

  Margot leaned back, contemplating their next move. From what Adam had told her, it was obvious Tim Kyle had killed Paul. The evidence was there, even if the motive wasn’t. If anything good came out of this, it was the fact that she could use his incarceration—and now his death—to prove to Adam that she no longer needed to be kept at home. But it begged the question of who was really behind all of this.

  She couldn’t bring herself to believe that Paul just happened to send her the email and then wound up dead, murdered by a known criminal who had no other ties to Paul than the crime itself. Either way, she didn’t seem to be the target.

  With that thought, she contemplated her next move. They didn’t know who the Eli fellow was, but she did know Kathleen Cho. Not well, and not recently, but perhaps it was enough to go and talk with her.

  She’d let Adam get back to his case and working what magic he could to gain the information he needed, and meanwhile, she’d look up Miss Cho and get reacquainted.

 

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