IF I FAIL Page 11

  “Are you finished, Jake?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Okay, you did step out of line when you dated her. It goes against procedure to date anyone connected with an open case, suspect or not. I will not—no, don’t interrupt me—I will not put anything in your personnel record on this. The interview puts it on record, which covers you in case this goes any further.”

  “Thanks, Captain,”

  “No problem. With all the nuts out there today, I’m glad I’m not single.”

  Jake grunted when he left the captain’s office.

  Chapter Ten

  Mia nervously knocked on Jake’s front door. Not knowing what kind of reception she’d receive, showing up unexpectedly. She turned away and then reconsidered. She turned back, shifted the bottle of wine from her right hand to her left, and raised her hand to knock again. The door opened; she stopped mid-knock before she hit Jake in the face.

  “Mia?”

  “A whim. Sorry, I should’ve called before dropping by,” she stated, embarrassed.

  “No, don’t apologize. I like whims.” He smiled. Taking her in his arms, he gave her a kiss, setting her blood boiling like hot lava.

  “Jake, what’s up? Who’s there?” Louie yelled from the kitchen.

  When he got no answer, he drew his gun and came running into the room; he stopped short when he saw them half in, half out of the door in an embrace.

  “Damn it, answer a man when he asks you a question.”

  Jake still held Mia. “Put the gun down, Louie. It’s Mia.”

  “You guys are gonna get killed, if you don’t answer a guy. I should’ve shot you to teach you a lesson.” Louie’s voice shook as he slammed his gun in his holster.

  “Nice, Louie. We’re just saying hello.”

  “I guess I’m a little spooked,” Louie said, heading back into the kitchen.

  *

  “Mia, come on into the kitchen. We need to talk.”

  “Ominous words.” Mia looked from Jake to Louie’s retreating back, turned back to Jake.

  “Do you want a drink?” Jake asked.

  “Coffee’s good.”

  “I’ll make a fresh pot,” Jake said.

  “No, I’ll make the fresh pot. You tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I don’t want to mess this up, what’s going on between us.” Taking a deep breath he continued, “If Chloe Wagner ruins this, I’ll lock her up forever.”

  “Who?”

  “Okay, here goes.” He gave her all the details, finishing up by saying, “There’s no excuse for my behavior. Though I only had a couple of dates with this woman, she still chases after me, not accepting it’s over. I’ve kind of ignored her actions—that is, until she came after you this morning.”

  He stopped, drank some coffee. “Well, I knew right away something didn’t add up with her—she’s off.” He pointed to his head. “It got me questioning myself. I also questioned the direction of the investigation. I believe, though I have no proof at this time, she might be involved in her sister’s death. We’re here tonight reviewing all the evidence, including all the interviews from last year, to see if we missed anything. We do this every chance we get when we can’t close a case. It kind of haunts us.”

  “Is she the reason you pulled out of your garage right after I did this morning?”

  Jake flinched. “I didn’t know if you saw her this morning. Boy, you’re observant.”

  “I saw your garage door open. I saw you come flying out with your tires screeching, lights flashing, siren blasting. I thought maybe you forgot to tell me something. It amused me until I saw you pull over the red car. Now, my next question—should I be worried?”

  “To be honest, I would be. I don’t know what she’s capable of. Or what she would or could do, Mia. I don’t know why she decided to follow you or how she even knew about you. It bothers me both as a man and a cop. I don’t think she’d hurt you, though you never know. I think it wise to err on the side of caution. I don’t want to drag you into anything. I also don’t want to mess up what’s happening with us. Though you need to know, I will sacrifice us, to protect you. Do you understand?” Jake looked pained.

  *

  “Yes, I understand. You need to know I’m a big girl who’s been on her own for a long time. I can protect myself. I don’t need a babysitter. I will not let her ruin whatever this is,” Mia finished, pointing her index finger at Jake and back at herself, several times to emphasize her point. She sat down with her own coffee, sipping it while she watched him over the rim, considering everything he said.

  “I can be of some help, you know. I’m an organized individual. Writers are great researchers,” Mia offered. “Plus, I can offer a psychological profile if you don’t already have one.”

  “I can’t let you see the file, Mia. Only authorized personnel are allowed. It’s still an open case. Thanks anyway.”

  “I understand, though sometimes a new set of eyes can pick up something you missed.” She pushed, because she wanted to know if a relationship with Jake would be dangerous. Did this sort of thing happen to all his dates?

  “I agree, except I can’t allow it, Mia. The department could be sued, not to mention it could be considered tampering with evidence; letting a civilian look at the investigator’s file before it’s closed. It’s not public record yet.

  “Do you want to hang around? We’re only gonna be another hour. If you didn’t eat, we could have a late supper?” Jake held his breath, waiting for an answer.

  “You could bring me on as a consultant. You know, to do a psychological profile.”

  “Mia, I can’t. The department already has its own staff for profiling suspects.”

  “Okay, I’ll go into the living room. I brought a book with me. We can grab a bite after you’re done.” Mia grabbed her coffee, walked into the living room with it, and settled in on his sofa.

  Louie looked over at Jake.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, let’s get back to this. I put all the statements the other detectives took in this pile on the right; the ones we took on the left. I figured we’d look over the other detectives’ notes first, because we know our own inside and out.”

  “Okay, let’s get to it. I’ll take half, you take the other half. We’ll get through it faster.”

  Jake grabbed a pile, opened the first file. Within fifteen minutes of reviewing Detective Kraus’s interview with Shanna’s best friend, something popped.

  “Louie, didn’t we interview Meryl Drake?”

  “I think we did. Wait, let me look it up. We interviewed so many people, it’s hard to keep them straight,” Louie said, going through his notes. “Yeah, we did a follow-up with her four days later. Kraus interviewed her first. Why?”

  “When Kraus interviewed her, Meryl focused on the ring Shanna’s grandmother gave her. She skimmed over the ring in our interview. She made a point of telling Kraus Shanna never took the ring off. In fact, she verified Shanna wore it the last time Meryl saw her. According to the transcript from Kraus’ interview, it would’ve been on the night Shanna disappeared. Don’t our notes state she didn’t see Shanna for a whole week before the disappearance, because they were both cramming for exams?” Jake pulled his interview notes on Meryl, re-read them.

  “I got mine, Louie, what do yours say?” Jake scratched his head.

  “I have to dig out my interview notes, it’s not on top.” Louie wet his index finger, flipping through the pile of papers at the speed of light. “Ah, here it is.”

  “Let’s review mine first. I’ll read her statement aloud. You make notes against yours where mine are different. Then we’ll do the same thing with Kraus.”

  “Got yourself a little tingle there, Jake?” Louie said.

  “Yeah, it’s not much, but the statements don’t add up. It’s not just embellishment, it’s off.”

  “You don’t think her friend did her?”

  “No, I don’t. There has to be a reason her statements are off,
so let’s see why with a follow-up interview. You know…pull a string, see what unravels.”

  “Okay, start reading.”

  “I’m gonna play the tape also. This way, we can get their rhythm.”

  Jake scanned the statement—started reading it as he played the tape version.

  Detective Gunther Kraus and Detective Kirk Brown interviewing Meryl Drake, concerning the homicide death of Shanna Wagner, it opened. Kraus took the lead, asking the questions.

  Kraus: Miss Drake, I’m going to read the Miranda act. It explains your rights in this interview, okay?

  Drake: Yes, do I need a lawyer here?

  Kraus: Let me read you your right;, then you can make the decision, alright?

  Drake: Okay. I want to help. I can’t believe Shanna’s gone.

  Kraus read the Miranda act:

  Kraus: Do you understand your rights, Miss Drake?

  Drake: Yes.

  Kraus: Miss Drake, please state your full name for the record.

  Drake: Meryl Anne Drake.

  Kraus: Do you know a Shanna Wagner of Wilkesbury, Connecticut?

  Drake: Yes, I grew up with Shanna. She’s my best friend.

  Kraus: Did you attend the same school as Miss Wagner?

  Drake: No. I go to USC, she went to UConn.

  Kraus: Why different schools?

  Drake: We each got a scholarship to the schools we attend. Different schools for different careers.

  Kraus: What are you studying?

  Drake: Art, with a backup degree in teaching.

  Kraus: Shanna studied what?

  Drake: Accounting, with a major in Business Management.

  Kraus switched it up here.

  Kraus: Do you know why anyone would want to kill Shanna?

  Drake: No, I don’t. Shanna’s the nicest person you would ever meet. She never hurt anyone. (Jake noted heavy crying here).

  Lifting his cup to his mouth Jake took a break, sipped his coffee while it still held some warmth.

  “It looks like he’s finally getting to the personalities here.”

  Kraus: Did the two of you get along all the time?

  Drake: You think I could hurt her? You’re nuts. I thought she was raped. How would I do something like that? I’m a woman. Your question is sick.

  Brown jumped in, spoke for the first time.

  Brown: Miss Drake, these questions need to be asked so we can eliminate everyone.

  (Brown’s good, just enough sympathy in his voice; Jake appreciated Browns technique)

  Detective Kraus needs to get a clear picture of who Shanna was. (Brown got her a glass of water, handed it to her, along with a tissue, noted on tape.)

  Drake: Okay.

  Kraus: Did the two of you get along? A good interviewer, Kraus didn’t let his question go unanswered, Jake thought.

  Drake: Most of the time. We were friends our whole lives, but we didn’t agree on everything. Like her sister for one thing. Chloe could be a real bitch toward her. Shanna would never fight with her, though believe me, Chloe tried to fight with her. She’d take Shanna’s clothes, her jewelry, whatever she wanted at the moment, without asking.

  Brown: So they didn’t get along?

  Drake: Chloe doesn’t get along with a lot of people. She’s a self-involved person.

  Brown: Who’s older?

  Drake: Chloe’s older. A jealous bitch if I ever saw one.

  Brown: Why?

  Drake: Shanna excelled at everything she did. Her grades were the best. The best boyfriends, when she wanted one—her parents doted on her. She’s friendly, outgoing, she always volunteered to help, if help was needed. I don’t know. She was just great. Chloe is the opposite, always jealous of her parents’ attention toward Shanna Plus, Chloe thought she should have been given the emerald ring because she was older than Shanna.

  Jake noted the way Meryl switched from present to the past when referring to Shanna. A normal reaction when a person hadn’t fully accepted the death.

  Kraus: Did Chloe ever threaten Shanna?

  Drake: It’s a sister thing. Do you know what I mean?

  They ignored her question

  Brown: Was Shanna dating anyone?

  Drake: No. She dated this one guy where she’s interning. He became too pushy, too possessive, after a couple of dates. She backed off, told him she wanted to keep it friendly because they still work together. Jake marked the page—an ultimate insult to a guy. The let’s just be friends speech.

  Brown: What’s his name?

  Drake: Mark Cavilla.

  Brown: Where does he work?

  Drake: He’s an accountant at the firm where Shanna interned. I think it’s the Alex Troy Firm.

  Brown: Where’s it located?

  Drake: Downtown on Meadow Street, here in Wilkesbury.

  Jake could see their rhythm.

  Kraus: Did you see Shanna the week she disappeared?

  Drake: I saw her Friday night.

  Jake flagged his notes.

  Kraus: What did you guys do? Where did you go? It’s important, so think hard. Who did you talk to, especially Shanna?

  Drake: We hung out in her room at the dorm. A couple of the girls from her floor came over around nine o’clock, asked if we wanted to join them for pizza and beer. We did.

  A couple of guys from school, her school, dropped by our table to chat, though they didn’t stay long. Her cell phone rang the whole time the guys talked to us. She’d check the caller ID, disgusted, she’d press the ignore button.

  Kraus: Who kept calling her?

  Drake: I don’t know. She never said.

  Kraus: Anything else you want to say, Meryl, before we end this interview?

  Drake: I can’t think of anything. If I do, I’ll call you. Shanna was great. This just doesn’t make sense, why someone would hurt her.

  Kraus: We’ll have this interview typed up. It’ll only take a couple of minutes. It requires your signature. Thanks for your time, Meryl. Murder never makes sense.

  Drake: You’ll let me know when you catch the guy who killed her?

  Kraus: What makes you think it’s a guy?

  Drake: I just figured. I can’t picture a woman doing this.

  Kraus: You never know. This interview has ended. Record off.

  “What do you think, Louie?” Jake asked, when the tape concluded.

  “I don’t know. Why’d she lie to us? Because you’re right, when we interviewed her, according to my notes, she didn’t see Shanna on the night of her disappearance. She couldn’t have forgotten what she said four days earlier. I’ll set up a formal interview with her. Maybe this environment will shake something out of her.”

  “Great. Tomorrow pull Shanna’s cell records, they don’t seem to be in the file. A repeat number would’ve set an alarm off for us. I don’t remember any repeat or excessive calls the day she disappeared. Do you? It’s almost nine o’clock, so let’s pick this up again tomorrow. I’ve got a couple of stops in the morning before I’ll be in. I want to go by the lab, have them explain the drugs they found in Adams’ system. They’re not meds. You got kid duty tomorrow, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be in by nine though. It’s just a conference with one of Marisa’s teachers.”

  “Okay, good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jake practically pushed Louie out the door.

  “Hey, I don’t have to leave right away, not gonna offer me a beer?” Louie said, glancing to the living room.

  “No, I’m not. I’ve known you long enough to be rude to you.” Jake lowered his voice. “Don’t bust my chops, Louie, say good night.”

  “Oh, all right. Good night, Mia,” he said in the voice of a chastised child.

  “You didn’t have to ask him to leave. I’m the one intruding here.”

  “I don’t think you’re intruding.” Jake sat down next to her on the couch. “Did you eat dinner?”

  “No.”

  “What would you like?”

  “I hadn’t thought about it. Do you have
anything in mind?” Mia asked.

  “Boy, a loaded question, because what I have in mind doesn’t involve food. Well, then again…”

  Mia laughed. “I am starving. I normally don’t eat this late.”

  “Okay, let’s go get some burgers. I can guarantee they won’t be as good as what I had in mind.”

  “I’m sure, Jake. I still want to talk about this morning.”

  He knew he scared her when he gave her the warning. What could he do? “I understand. We’ll do it over dinner.”

  He reached down, pulled her off the couch, wondering if this would be their first and last date.

  Chapter Eleven

  They never made it to dinner. On the way, Jake’s radio crackled to life. The dispatcher reported a 10-40 in progress. Shooting, proceed with caution. Jake’s cell phone rang. Dispatch called, informing him of the shooting. As senior officer on call, he had no choice but to take it.

  Good thing they took their own cars. He put on his lights and siren, pulled her over to explain. He contacted Louie on his cell phone, agreeing to meet him there.

  Arriving on scene, Jake checked his watch—nine-fifteen. He sat observing the building and the neighborhood while he waited for Louie. A few minutes later, he watched Louie pull up and get out of his car. He wore jeans, his off-duty attire. The first officer on the scene, Officer Connelly, told them a neighbor called the 9-1-1 in with no other information. Dispatch told them to see the woman in apartment 3C, at 11 Wiggins Street—they weren’t sure if the shooter remained on the scene.

  The building at 11Wiggins Street, which wasn’t in one of the city’s best neighborhoods, seemed fully occupied from the street. A six-family brick apartment complex, most windows were covered in sheets, a few with shades, only one with curtains.

  As they entered the lobby, their senses were assaulted with a combination of scents. The most prevalent was the distinct odor of pot, along with take-out Chinese, pizza, and unidentifiable home cooking; none smelled appetizing. The familiar scent of decay hung in the air; Jake guessed a dead mouse or other small animal. He wondered why these places always smelled of urine. Didn’t people have bathrooms?