He glanced towards the window. A branch from a tree was scraping against it like nails on a chalkboard. Right then Harvey’s phone started buzzing. He pulled it out and answered.
“Harv, I’ve got a lead on a potential suspect. Can you meet me at Holly Hills Cemetery in Port St. Joe?”
“Isn’t it closed?”
“I got a tip that he’s there helping to lock it down for the storm. “
“Okay, but that will take me a good hour. Besides, haven’t they closed the John Gorrie Bridge by now?”
“It was open when I came over. Where are you?”
He looked at Jake. “Dealing with a personal matter.”
“Not hemorrhoids, is it?” Skylar chuckled. She’d been riding him over that ever since he’d told her that he was having difficulty sitting for too long. Elizabeth had bought him one of these inflatable donuts for the vehicle and for a short while he’d managed to convince her that it was just for comfort, that was until she mentioned it one night over dinner and Elizabeth let the cat out of the bag.
“Hilarious,” he replied. “I’m on my way. Oh, and Skylar. Don’t do anything until I get there.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
He raised an eyebrow as he hung up. “I got to go. Think it over,” he said before giving him his card. “Call me anytime, okay. And do me a favor, no more late-night visits unless you ring the doorbell. And if you need a place to sleep, I have a perfectly good sofa with your name on it. Just don’t expect Payton to be sharing it with you, get my drift?”
Jake smiled, and thanked him.
Harvey headed out into the downpour, concerned but unable to intervene unless Jake was prepared to speak out against his stepfather. Few did. Often domestics didn’t end well. As he rushed back to his truck, a blue sedan hit a pothole and splashed water over the lower half of his leg. He turned to raise a hand and curse and then noticed it swerve into the driveway. Rainwater dripped off his chin as he squinted at the woman driving. It had to be his mother. Seeing an opportunity, he jogged over just as she was getting out.
“Mrs. Parish?”
“Yes?”
“Detective Baker from Franklin County,” he said showing his ID.
A concerned expression masked her face.
“It’s okay, no one is in trouble. I just wanted two minutes of your time.”
As soon he asked her about the shiner on Jake’s face, she told him a different story, one which made him question who was telling the truth.
“You’re saying Jake did it to himself?”
She looked nervously over her shoulder at the home. “I can’t say any more. I have to get inside.”
“Mrs. Parish.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve said too much as it is.”
With that, she entered the front door and left him standing out in the rain.
5
Holly Hills in Port St. Joe was one of three cemeteries in the town, two were in use and the other was historical. The final resting place of the dead was located just off Old Niles Tramroad on the west side as if the city didn’t want anyone to know it was there. It was a deserted stretch of road with scrub and slash pine to the right and a white metal fence that hedged the cemetery.
Plots were spread out over six blocks with hundreds of tombstones in a line marching into the distance. Skylar sat in her truck as the rain beat down. Dark brooding clouds rolling overhead looked swollen as rain slashed the air, giving the whole place an eerie look. She hated cemeteries, funerals, anything related to death. It was the big unknown. Dying didn’t bother her but what lay beyond did. It was the one topic that people skirted around but everyone knew was coming. Her mother used to say that there was nothing that could be done about it so there was no use worrying, and a priest she saw on a monthly basis to confess her sins in New York told her that she had nothing to fear if she had accepted the lord as her savior. All well and good but flip on the TV, surf the internet, pick up a magazine and it seemed as if every religion, self-proclaimed guru and enlightened bozo had a pat answer, but the fact was no one really knew what lurked beyond this life. Oh, they could take a stab at it, point to their chosen book, regurgitate what their parents had told them and envision everlasting peace but really? Was it as simple as dividing up the good from the bad, the sinner from the saint? Would transplanting a bunch of annoying people from planet earth and placing them in an ideal heaven make it any better than it was down here? Humans had done a great job of screwing up a beautiful planet, would it be any different upstairs? She chuckled to herself. For now she chose to believe in a God but wondered if he didn’t have the whole of humanity on some kind of voice mail system that was full. Because if he cared so damn much where was he when Alex died? Where was he when people were being raped, murdered and abused? She sighed. There was so much about it that was confusing to her, and yet she didn’t want to spiral down into bitterness just because she couldn’t understand the big cheese’s mysterious ways. Instead, she had to believe that whoever was watching over them, they were allowing more good than bad to happen.
The sound of tires crunching over gravel caught her attention and she snapped out of her thoughts. Through the downpour she saw Harvey’s black Chevy rolling in. She brought her window down and a hard wind blew in the metallic, wet-dirt scent of the air. Harvey veered his vehicle into the parking spot beside hers and brought his window down. He squinted. “This weather isn’t letting up. So who are we dealing with?”
“Keith Norris, Brenda Matthews’ brother. Seems he had a few run-ins with his brother-in-law, enough that a restraining order was placed on him by Jason. However, he violated that order. I was told he works here and was helping to stormproof the place before landfall.”
Harvey nodded, looking forward. “Well let’s get to it.”
She saw him reach over and grab his raincoat. She never bothered to use one but he was particular about keeping his uniform crisp and dry. She waited until he was out before hopping out and making a mad dash for the administration office. Rain beat against her hair, plastering it to her face. Her cheeks were flushed by the time they pulled the doors open and stepped into the warmth of the lobby.
Both of them shook off water like drenched dogs.
“Sorry, we’re closed,” a young, full-bodied woman with bright red hair and pointed glasses said from behind the front desk. “We’ll be open once the storm is over.”
“We’re actually here to see Keith Norris,” Harvey said flashing his badge as they ambled over. Skylar glanced around wondering if he was nearby.
“He’s out back, preparing to put up shutters.”
She made a gesture to a room to the right of the front desk. Harvey thanked her and they strolled through. “So you already bought your plot in Carrabelle?” Skylar asked.
“Actually, I hadn’t, not until recently.”
“Oh yeah, how recent?”
“A week after you arrived.”
She chuckled as they pushed through a set of double doors into a large room that was filled with caskets and stacks of signs, along with tombstones that looked as if they were in the process of being engraved. At the far end of the room there were three people carrying shutters out a rear door. “Don’t forget the tools,” one of them said, supervising the other two.
“Keith Norris,” Skylar said.
A tall guy wearing jeans, a plaid shirt, yellow raincoat and work boots twisted. He had short-cropped dark hair, and huge biceps. “Yeah?”
“Franklin County Sheriff’s Department,” Harvey said. “You’re the brother of Brenda Matthews?”
“That’s right.”
“We had a few questions about Jason Matthews.”
He shook his head and looked at his workmates. “You think we can do this another time? We are on a tight deadline to get this place shut down.”
“Funny you say that,” Skylar piped up. “So are we. Except it’s to close this case.”
He nodded, looked towards the doors and said, “Let me just ge
t my bag and we’ll…” But before he finished, he turned and bolted.
“Oh man, why do they always do that?” Skylar said as she took off after him. The doors exploded open as Keith sprinted out the rear into the thick of the storm. Rain pelted their skin as he slalomed around a mausoleum and huge tombstones. Harvey splintered off to the right while Skylar stayed on him. The ground beneath them had turned into a mud-soaked, swampy mess making every step that much harder. Skylar’s heart was pounding in her chest as she stayed on him. For a guy with so much muscle he was surprisingly fast.
Out the corner of her eye she could see Harvey cutting around as Keith appeared to be racing towards his white truck that was parked on the far side of the cemetery. Keith pushed a wheelbarrow full of soil over to try and block her way, she jumped over it with ease but then slipped on the soil and slid into a tombstone. “Sonofabitch.” Scrambling to her feet, she charged off after him even more determined. In the distance she could see Harvey closing in, however, it didn’t look like Keith was going to let up and the two of them would collide. Sure enough, Keith lowered his head and plowed into Harvey like a football player. Harvey went up in the air and over him, landing on his back. Keith didn’t let up for a second. He made it to his vehicle and hopped in, firing up the engine and slamming his foot on the accelerator.
Skylar rushed past Harvey and grinned while yelling, “Touchdown!”
Harvey let out some curse word but it was lost in the intense wind.
The white truck sped down the winding asphalt and, in an attempt to take a short cut, the truck left the road, bounced over the grass and through some trees, then swerved back onto the narrow road that weaved in between the blocks of graves.
As he attempted a second time to cut through, the vehicle slid on the watery mud and slammed into a concrete mausoleum, and the tires got stuck. A surge of hope shot through Skylar as her boots pounded the ground heading for him. She could see him frantically trying to get out. The wheels spun wildly, kicking up soil and plastering graves behind the truck with mud. Just as she got near, the tires caught and the truck tore away but not before she jumped on the hood. Gripping the windshield wipers, she hung on for dear life as the truck bounced over mounds of earth and he drove erratically trying to shake her.
“Shut it off,” she yelled at him but his eyes were wild.
Realizing he wouldn’t listen, she waited until they were on a straight stretch of roadway between blocks of graves before reaching back with one hand and pulling her service weapon. A quick flash of the muzzle and yelling the command to “Turn off the engine!” and he slowed the vehicle. Skylar slipped off the hood keeping her Glock on him, and told him to turn off the engine and throw the keys out. He complied and as soon as she scooped up the keys, she opened the door and dragged his ass out onto the ground and began reading him his Miranda rights.
“You have the right to remain silent, you have…”
As she continued, a muddied Harvey hobbled over, one hand on his back, the other on his Glock. “I need to brush up on my defense skills.”
Back at the station, Keith was placed in an interview room while the two of them got cleaned up. They both looked like they’d taken a mud bath. The number of people who snickered as they strong-armed their suspect in only increased when Reznik and Hanson spotted them. They sat at their desks laughing and cracking jokes. Davenport didn’t look impressed as he probably thought that Skylar had caused more public damage in the apprehension. He eyed them from behind the blinds in his office with a scowl.
“You really should get that back looked at,” Skylar said leaning against the lockers while Harvey knocked back two Advil.
“Don’t tell Elizabeth otherwise she’ll call the doctor and I’ll spend the next month getting a battery of tests only for them to rule it out as a muscle spasm. Damn doctors haven’t a clue what they’re doing,” he said closing his locker and doing up a clean shirt.
“Where were you today, anyway?”
He got this embarrassed look on his face, hesitated then said, “Payton has been seeing this guy. I didn’t know about it. Elizabeth did. I’m always the last to know.”
“I wonder why,” Skylar said crossing her arms and smiling.
“Hey, I don’t have a problem with her dating but at least show me a picture of the guy, bring him to dinner, let me perform a background check on him.”
She chuckled. “A background check? You know you can’t use the system for things like that. It’s against the rules.”
“Says the woman who ignores all rules.”
“Gotta keep pushing the envelope,” she replied. “So?”
“He stayed over last night, unbeknownst to me of course.”
“Of course.”
“Well Payton says he’s been sleeping rough because of trouble at home. I go pay him a visit today and notice one hell of a shiner. He wouldn’t admit it was his stepfather but the guy came across as a little aggressive.”
“So, pull him in, question him.”
“With what evidence?”
“You know all we need is a good reason to believe he’s hurting him.”
“That’s the problem. I don’t know. I thought I did but Jake wouldn’t say anything and then I met his mother outside and she says he did it to himself.”
Skylar pushed away from the lockers and placed a foot up on the wooden bench that ran between the lockers. “Sounds convenient to me.”
“But what if it’s not? What if he’s doing it to get back at his stepfather? You know how things can be if he doesn’t like the guy.”
“So what are you gonna do?”
“Well Jake said he filed a report with Carrabelle Police Department a few years back. His stepfather had mandatory anger management classes. I want to speak to the officer who handled it. Find out if any photos were taken, what the report said and get his side of it.”
Skylar blew out her cheeks and tapped him on the arm. “Crazy world. Let’s get to it.” They made their way out and down to the interview room. Harvey briefly stopped at a vending machine to pick up a hot chocolate. “You want to ask him what he wants?”
“Please. After the run he just gave us, he’s lucky I don’t serve him arsenic.”
He shook his head as she shouldered the door and entered.
“Mr. Norris.” She held the door open for Harvey and then closed it behind her. The room was simple, a square table, a camera in the top right of the room, a two-way mirror and three chairs. Norris’ left ankle was handcuffed to the ground. They pulled up a seat and Skylar noticed Keith look at Harvey’s drink. “Oh, did you want a coffee?”
He nodded.
“Let me get you one,” she pretended to get up and then sat back down. “After you’ve told us what we want to know.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“Where were you last night between seven and nine?”
“I was getting anger management classes here in town — New Hope Anger Management. Phone them.”
“Oh, that is brilliant,” Skylar said rising from the table and pacing the room.
“It’s the truth.”
“Is it?” Skylar muttered. “Then while we are speaking the truth, let me ask you why you happened to move to the same town as your sister?”
“I took a job at the cemetery.”
“It wasn’t so you could be close to her and maybe keep an eye on Jason?”
“No.”
“Come on, Mr. Norris,” Harvey said.
He slammed his hands down on the table. “Jason cheated on her, and was abusive.”
“And so you followed through on your threats and killed him?” Skylar asked.
He snorted. “I didn’t kill the guy, though I’m pleased he’s dead,” he said before spitting on the floor to the left of him.
“You know we’ll make you clean that up,” Skylar said.
Harvey intervened. “So you haven’t contacted him since the incident in Tallahassee?”
“Nope. I’ve stayed clear. N
ot because of a restraining order, or because I think he deserved a second chance, I did it for my sister. Why she chose to stay with him through it all is a mystery as she knew he was cheating on her.”
“She did?”
“Of course. It’s not like it was the first time he’d done it. There had been multiple instances when they were living in the city. My sister reached out to me and I said I would talk with him, you know, man to man, however he told me where to go and to keep my nose out of his business.”
“So that’s when things got heated.”
He nodded.
Skylar looked at Harvey.
6
New Hope Anger Management classes were held three times a week from seven to nine in a small community resource center in Port St. Joe. Austin Harrison, the director of the therapy sessions, had agreed to meet them before the next meeting. With the weather getting drastically worse by the hour, Harvey grumbled for most of the journey about being made to work when Mother Nature was about to take a bite out of his ass.
“I’m telling you they really should pay us hazard pay.”
Skylar leaned forward and cranked up the air conditioning in his truck. “They do.”
“No, I mean for us cops near the coast.”
“They don’t expect you to ride it out.”
“Has Davenport given the green light on us leaving?”
“He has his hands full helping the EOC.”
Harvey picked up the coffee he’d grabbed from 7-Eleven as it was one of a handful of stores still open. He took a swig and winced. “Oh God, that is awful. Why the hell do they even sell coffee at that place? I mean honestly, who the hell buys it? Every time I go in they have a full pot sitting there. I swear they never change it and just keep reheating it, day after day until some unlucky fool like me shows up. And what about those hotdogs that they have on rotation? The damn things look like they’ve been baking in the sun for the past year. How many hours have they been rotating under that heat?”
“Anything else you wish to complain about?” Skylar asked.
Dead Storm Page 4
