All the Deadly Lies Page 12

  After a full search of the premises, Louie went back to the girl and helped her up while Jake returned to the body and called for the crime scene team. He and Jake had developed a rhythm over the years. He took the living. Jake took the dead.

  Louie popped down the hall to inform Jake he’d called for the medics and a female officer because the young girl had gone into labor.

  While Louie tried to calm down the girl to get her statement, Jake bagged the hands first, then the feet. Though crime scene techs would do the same, he liked to take his own pictures and the layout of the scene for further study. He took pictures of the body and the three spent shells that he had found out in the hallway. He circled them in chalk before bagging them. Rolling the victim to his side, Jake pulled the victim’s wallet from the back-left pocket, removed his license, and studied it, shaking his head. It saddened him. The kid, Xavier Orlando, of this address, lived a short life. He was nineteen. What a waste, Jake thought.

  The crime scene team arrived at the same time the M.E., Dr. Lang, did. Ms. Santos let out a bloodcurdling scream, startling all of them. The baby must have decided tonight was a good night to make its entrance into this world.

  Jake almost laughed at the panicked expression on Doc Lang’s face. “I haven’t delivered a baby since medical school. Get her out of here, or you’ll have another victim on your hands,” Lang whispered to him.

  The men let out a collective sigh of relief when Stella Fisher, the female officer, arrived, relieving them of the care of the girl. Nodding to Jake then Louie, she took charge of the situation and arranged transport to the hospital for Blanca.

  Before Blanca headed to the hospital, she told Louie they’d been watching television when someone had knocked on the door. Xavier had gotten up to answer it. He always looked through the peephole before opening up. She had heard gunshots and had gone to see what had happened. She had found Xavier on the floor, bleeding. Not able to find a pulse, she had dialed 9-1-1.

  “Did Xavier open the door, Blanca?” Louie asked as he timed her contractions in his head.

  “No, I did.” Leaning over, she grabbed the chair with one hand as she wrapped her other arm around her belly and took a deep breath.

  “Why?”

  “Because my next-door neighbor, Annie, called out, asked if I was all right. I let her in. When she saw Xavier, she screamed and ran back to her apartment. She’s in 3D…” She yelled out in pain when another contraction came.

  Lang’s and Jake’s heads jerked up as the girl in the living room let out a scream. Jake had the woman in his line of sight. She gripped Louie’s arm. “Call my mother. I need my mother with me in the delivery room. She promised she’d be there.”

  “We have to get her to the hospital. I’ll stay with her,” Stella said. “Blanca, give me your mother’s number. I’ll call.”

  With no other choice, Jake let their witness go. Once she delivered they’d question her.

  “Crazy night,” Louie said.

  “Sure is. How is she?” Jake asked.

  “She’s in good hands. Fisher will take care of her. What have you got?”

  “The kid was shot three times through the door. Before Blanca could open for the neighbor, she had to pull the body out of the way first. I’m sure the exertion brought on her labor. This isn’t where the body originally landed. Make a note to question her—how far did she move the body? Let’s start the door-to-door with apartment 3D. See what this Annie person has to say. Make sure you take a uniform with you, Louie. I’ll stay with the CSIs,” Jake said.

  Nodding, Louie walked away and grabbed the first uniform he saw.

  “Be careful. We don’t know if the shooter’s still in the building,” Jake called out.

  “Okay, Mom,” Louie said.

  “So, Doc, what’s it looking like to you?”

  “Well, Jake, he’s definitely dead.” Doc Lang deadpanned and motioned for the team to take away the body.

  “Good one.”

  “I’ll let you know after I post him. Don’t come around until after eleven tomorrow morning. I have a full house right now. I pulled in two shootings from the Hartford area, now this makes the seventh one I have in house. The natives are on a rampage. Check in before you come to make sure I’m still on schedule,” Lang said, as he hurried out of there.

  “Will do.”

  Jake needed information on his witness and when they’d be able to interview her. While waiting for Louie to return, he decided to give Stella a quick call for an update on Blanca’s status.

  Louie, with notebook in hand, walked back into the apartment as Doc Lang waved good-bye.

  “I got the uniforms going door to door. 3D’s Annie Darcy. She didn’t want to speak with us. She’s sorry she knocked on the door. She doesn’t want to get involved. She feels bad she couldn’t stay to help Blanca but she left her kids alone in the apartment to check out the commotion. Darcy didn’t want the kids coming out to look for her or see Xavier. She heard someone knock before she heard the shots. They sounded like firecrackers going off. She looked out her peephole, but she saw no one in the hallway. She raced to her bedroom, grabbed her kids and hid them in the closet to protect them. Right after that, she heard Blanca scream and ran over to see if she could help. This is a direct quote from her. ‘That’s all I know.’ Unquote.” Louie flipped his pad closed.

  “Let’s finish our search in here. Doc said to see him tomorrow morning after eleven, not before. He hopes to have something for us. Oh, I spoke with Stella. The doctor said Blanca should deliver within the hour. If we try now we’ll get nothing from her,” Jake said.

  “I got three kids. The doctor said Sophia would go fast for each one, remember? She was in labor for fifteen hours for the first one, ten for another, eight for the last one. What does the doctor know?”

  * * * *

  With little sleep, Jake plowed through his first departmental meeting. He reviewed everyone’s caseloads. He looked over the file he and Louie caught the night before and decided to hand off the Wiggins Street shooting to Al Burke and Gunner Kraus.

  “Burke, Kraus, where do you stand on the Rubino case?” Jake asked.

  “It’s basically wrapped, except for a few loose ends. We’re waiting on the D.A. for a warrant,” Burke answered.

  “Who’s going to be the lucky guest of the state?” Jake inquired.

  “One Julianna Rubino, the wife. Seems Mr. Rubino stuck his zucchini where it didn’t belong once too often.” Kraus laughed, shaking his index finger at Jake, imitating Mrs. Rubino. “She warned him, but did he listen?”

  “You have such a grasp of the English language, Gunner,” Jake commented, unable to hide his grin. “Okay, last night’s shooting on Wiggins Street. The victim, a young Hispanic male, age nineteen, was shot in the face through his door. He lived there with his girlfriend, Blanca Santos. She’s in the delivery room at St. Mary’s hospital as we speak. No witnesses except the woman in 3D, who heard everything. Burke, you and Kraus take this one. Girlfriend claims they don’t do drugs or anything illegal. Here are the preliminary interviews. One’s from the uniform who was first on scene, and one from Louie and me. I’ve also included a report of my observations and how it played out for me. Doc Lang said he’d have something for you after eleven today. Any questions?” Jake looked around at his team.

  “Yeah. Overworked, Lieutenant? It’s not like you to hand off a case,” Kraus commented.

  “We’re bogged down with the Adams and Wagner cases. So, this one’s yours. You have any questions, Gunny?”

  “No, sir,” Kraus answered. His guys knew when to joke and when to rein it in.

  “Now, let’s move along. Brown, what’s the status on the hit-and-run? Also, do you have anything new on the high school shooting—a suspect or a solid lead?” Jake rapidly shot his questions at Brown and Lanoue.

  “Not yet. The victim
of the hit-and-run is still in a coma. The eyewitnesses didn’t get a license number, though we do have the make and color. The witnesses are sure the driver was a kid. As for the high school shooting—the principal and the teachers are cooperating. The students aren’t. I’m sure the kids know who did it, but no one’s talking. It’s obvious to me they’re afraid. Right, Armand?” Brown turned toward his partner to confirm.

  “Yeah, Kirk, those kids are afraid of someone. The victim didn’t belong to any group or gang. He maintained straight A’s and didn’t do drugs, nothing. It doesn’t make any sense,” Armand Lanoue stated.

  Kirk Brown and Armand Lanoue had been partnered since last year, when Joe Smith retired. Armand got promoted to detective. Brown’s partner, Kraus, moved over to partner with Burke. Both were in their thirties. Kirk Brown matched his name—brown hair and brown eyes, height five-eleven. Armand Lanoue—thinning blond hair, brown eyes—stood a gangly six-three. Their partnership seemed to be working.

  “Do you need any help on either one, Kirk?” Jake asked.

  “No, we’re still in the early stages. What if we grab a couple of uniforms for the door-to-door on the hit-and-run, to narrow down the list, is that okay with you?” Detective Brown said.

  “Do what you need to. If you need more, come see me. Al, you and Gunner go over to the hospital, interview the live-in girlfriend after she delivers.”

  “We get all the choice assignments, don’t we? Why couldn’t she be a stripper?” Burke said.

  Jake stared Burke down until Al turned away. “Gunner” or “Gunny,” as everyone referred to Kraus, and Burke were the original odd couple. Gunner’s suits, shirts, even his ties were matched and pressed with precision. Though married, he thought of himself as a ladies’ man. Jake thought of him as a snake. He hated cheaters.

  With Burke, Jake could always tell what he ate for lunch because he wore it on his shirt, which fought to cover his bulging belly. A red nose showed his penchant for alcohol. A good cop, Jake thought, though he’d seen too much in his years on the force. Years before, as the lead cop, Burke had worked the murders of seven children and their mother. It never let go of him.

  Jake signaled for Burke to hang back when the meeting broke up. “You discover anything I should know about?”

  Both he and Burke knew what he was asking. “No, but I agree that all the evidence points at Spaulding. You find anything?”

  “No, my father was thorough, I agree, it all points to one person. But I still have more files to vet,” Jake said.

  Chapter 11

  Jake organized his notes from the meeting then typed them into his computer. He sent an email with updates on each case to Shamus. Some of his other detectives missed the meeting and were out in the field handling the current crimes. He’d review their caseload later, when he caught up with them. The department’s chits sat on his desk and needed his attention but Jake pushed them aside.

  The murder book on each crime never left the station. Jake collected and organized his own notes on a large poster board at home to follow the evidence if a case didn’t come together as fast as he thought it should. Now with an office at the station, he’d be able to set one up there and lock his door at night. He worked Chelsea Adams’s board first. Most time, he tried to maintain a normal life and leave work at work. But some cases grabbed him and didn’t let go. Louie stepped into his office as he wrote the timeline on the board as they knew it.

  “She was a good-looking woman,” Louie said, pointing to Chelsea’s picture with his coffee cup.

  Jake kept writing. “What’ve you got?”

  “We need to update the information on the second wife. She left on Thursday from JAX and landed in Bermuda. Here’s where it gets interesting. After she landed she took a connecting flight to New York. She stayed at the Radisson in Southbury on Thursday night, checking in around eight-thirty.” Louie closed his notebook.

  “You got her. Did you get the subpoena for Lola’s cell records?” Jake reviewed his list.

  “I’m waiting on Judge Eisenberg.”

  “I’ll check to see what the holdup is. We put the request in two days ago. I bet you she called the first Mrs. Adams on her phone.” Jake’s intercom buzzed. “Yes, Katrina?”

  “There’s a Cara Adams on line two for you,” Katrina said.

  Jake picked up his phone. “Lieutenant Carrington.”

  “Lieutenant, I’m sorry to bother you. Is there anything new on my mother’s case? We’re burying her tomorrow. I wondered…” Cara said, tears hitching her voice.

  “I’m sorry, Cara, it’s ongoing. If something turns up, I’ll let you know. Is your father coming in for the funeral?”

  “He planned on it, but I told him to stay away. Seth’s mad at me. He wanted him there. Did I do the right thing?” Cara began to sob. Jake found it difficult to understand her.

  “That’s between you and your brother. I’ll call you with any new developments, I promise,” Jake said.

  “Thanks, Lieutenant.”

  Jake steepled his fingers as he turned back to Louie. “She told her father not to come for the funeral. I wish she’d checked with one of us first. It would’ve been nice to question him ourselves.”

  “Some of the lab reports came in. I’ll look them over,” Louie said as he left the office.

  * * * *

  He wouldn’t admit it, even to himself, but Louie missed Jake sitting across from him, even though it had only been a week. Looking through the reports, he highlighted the pertinent information. He got up and made copies for Jake, then put the original reports in the murder book with his notes. The DNA results still weren’t back from the lab. To move forward they needed to be sure all the blood belonged to Chelsea Adams. Next, he read the ballistics report. The M.E. had pulled a .40 caliber bullet from Chelsea’s head. He stated it was from a Glock 26 handgun. It was the perfect gun for a range of twenty to twenty-five yards, in his opinion. Small, lightweight, easy to conceal, and it’s a good fit for a woman, except for the recoil. It takes a firm wrist to hit your target. He checked his email. Alleluia! At last, Lola’s cell phone records. He decided to get another cup of coffee before he started in on them. Reading while walking, he plowed right into Jake.

  “What’s up?” Louie asked.

  “I should have Chelsea’s cell records in a few minutes. You get anything new on your end?”

  “Yeah, I got copies here for you on the lab reports, including ballistics, still no DNA results. I also got Lola’s cell phone records, which I’m going to look over after I grab a cup of Joe. You want any?”

  “No thanks, I’m going to check the fax machine. Chelsea’s records should be here by now. Come in when you’re ready. We’ll spread out on my conference table. It’ll be easier to compare Lola’s records to Chelsea’s there.”

  “I’ll be right in.”

  * * * *

  All the way back to his office Jake debated on whether he should try Mia’s cell phone again before he got involved in the reports. What the hell? When he got in his office he placed the call. He listened to it ring. He was about to hang up when she answered.

  “Hi.”

  “You sound out of breath,” Jake said.

  “I had to run for the phone, I left it on my desk. It seems no one calls me unless I walk away from it.” He waited while she caught her breath. “How’d it go last night?” she asked.

  “Tough. They’re all tough. Two young kids living together, the boy gets up to answer the door and boom, someone shot him. Then his seventeen-year-old live-in girlfriend goes into labor with their first kid.” He continued before she could speak. “I’m sorry for the late call. I feel bad about dinner. Can I make it up to you?”

  Silence filled the moment. “Jake, we need to speak about a few things before this develops into something more. I understand about your job. It’s a large responsibility being on call,
directing a team—we need to lay out some grounds rules, though. What day do you want to do this?” Mia asked.

  He checked his calendar. “I can do Thursday after work, or Saturday.”

  “Okay. I’ll be in Wilkesbury on Thursday. Do you want to go out to dinner?”

  “No, why don’t I cook for us? It’ll be easier to talk with less distraction,” Jake said.

  “You sure there’ll be fewer distractions?”

  “It’ll be hard but I promise to behave,” Jake joked, eyeing Louie eavesdropping in the doorway of his office. “Why don’t you come from work—bring a change of clothes to relax in? I’ll grill something fast for dinner.” He didn’t want to wait until Thursday to see her.

  “Sounds like a plan. See you on Thursday.” She hung up.

  “Anyone I know?” Louie asked.

  “You know who, Louie.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out Thursday. She’s coming to dinner to talk.” He looked off into the distance, deep in thought. Out of all the women he’d dated, why was this one special?

  Louie left it alone, no small feat for him, and changed the subject. “I have all Adams’s records, including the lab reports. What do you want to start with?”

  “Let’s start with the phone records and see where it takes us. I also want to ask Cara Adams if either her mother or father owned a gun. I didn’t find any record of one here in Connecticut. Maybe he didn’t register it.”