IF I FAIL Read online

  Looking down he blew out his breath. “Jesus, she won’t leave me alone.”

  “Who?”

  “The Wagner woman.”

  “You recognize her number? Hey, watch the road,” Louie yelled.

  “Relax, Louie, I had a mile before I hit him. Yeah, she calls enough. I can’t take her right now. I might regret what I say to her.”

  “You need to handle it, Jake. And yes, I agree, you should wait until you’re calmer. What does she want?”

  “She uses her sister’s case as an excuse to call. She talks very little about her sister. Chloe tries to talk about us. Us? There is no us. Boy, did I make a mistake there. There’s something about her I can’t put my finger on. She’s not right in the head.” He shook his head in frustration.

  “All women scare you, Jake. I still don’t understand why you dated her. She’s not your type.”

  “Women don’t scare me, Louie. Only the nutty ones, and believe me, there are a lot of nutty ones out there. If you remember, she hounded me until I asked her out.”

  “Well, deal with her; then move on.”

  “Easier said than done, though I’ll try.” Jake didn’t tell Louie he’d told Chloe months ago he didn’t want to date her anymore. She wouldn’t—or couldn’t—accept it.

  “That’s what happens when you think with the wrong head,” Louie joked.

  Not in the mood, Jake didn’t respond. They pulled into the station’s underground garage.

  Jake’s mind ran through the points he needed to cover when he interviewed Washington. He wanted to lock down the charges, put the case to bed. Mostly, he wanted to put the image of Keisha out of his mind.

  He ticked off in his head how he wanted this to play out. He wanted a full-out confession from Washington. He needed to take the kid’s—Aaron’s—statement. Even with the kid’s mother there, he hoped the representative from child services stuck around. Sheila knowingly left the kids with a drug user. Jake didn’t need to stretch this day out any longer.

  They walked through the lobby and greeted the desk sergeant. Jake spotted Captain McGuire walking toward them.

  “My office…now,” McGuire said.

  Jake looked at the captain, tried to read him—always a difficult task. McGuire was former military, all spit and polish; he showed no expression on his square, hard face. He ran his department by the book; everything about him screamed cop. He wore his command well, and though he understood the need for politics, he didn’t let politicians rule him, or his decisions, when dealing with homicide. The captain held the respect of Jake and all of his men.

  “Sure, Cap, what’s up?” Jake responded.

  “I heard a reporter snuck onto the scene. Who’s responsible for letting him in?” He held up his hand to silence them. “Second, the DCS representative wants to talk to you before you go in and question the kid. I told her we’d meet here in ten minutes, after I spoke with you.”

  He didn’t wait for an answer; he turned, walked toward his office.

  They looked at each other, shrugged, and followed him in. Jake noticed the blinds were drawn.

  McGuire gestured for them to sit. Once they did, he pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels Blue. Poured each of them three fingers, handed them their drinks, downed his own.

  Jake took the glass, looked into it and then swallowed the contents in one gulp, while Louie sipped. And they both waited.

  Finally, McGuire said, “You guys okay?”

  “Yeah, we are,” Jake responded wearily.

  “What’ve you got?” McGuire asked, getting back to business.

  As they told him, Louie handed him the digital camera. Modern science captured more details than ever before. McGuire shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “The father’s responsible for this?” he asked with disgust.

  “Yes,” Louie answered.

  “Has he confessed?”

  “Yes, I want to lock down the details in the interview. I’m putting the death penalty on the table to try to force it. He’s crashing hard and he hasn’t asked for an attorney yet,” Jake finished.

  “Did you have the video set-up at the scene?”

  “Yes,” Jake answered.

  “The video should hold up in court, Jake. Are you interrogating him first?”

  “Yes. The more time he has to think, the more it’ll work against us,” Louie said.

  “Okay, I’m going to watch through the glass.” McGuire referred to the observation room behind the mirrors in the interview rooms.

  Jake tapped Louie on the shoulder. “Ready?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s get it done.”

  The three of them watched Washington Jones though the glass. His movements were sporadic. Jake didn’t want him to appear out of control. Hoping food would help, he sent in burgers and coffee.

  Nothing helped. Washington didn’t want food, he wanted a fix.

  They walked in. Jake leaned against the wall; he stared at him, didn’t speak, letting Louie take the first round.

  “How’re you doing? Did you enjoy the food?” Louie asked.

  “I don’t need no damn food. I’m not good. I need a fix real bad. Can’t you give me something? I’m dying here,” he whined.

  Louie kept his face neutral. “I can help you after you answer a few questions, okay?”

  “Whatever, man, you name it. I need the fix,” he begged.

  Louie looked over at Jake, nodded. “We’ll be right back.”

  “Hey, what the fuck? Don’t leave me,” he screamed.

  Outside the room, Louie said, “Do you want to continue, Jake? The camera’s going to pick up on every jerky motion of his. The lawyers will have a field day on how we worked him.”

  “He’s coherent, Louie. We read him his rights, he stated he understood them. He didn’t request a lawyer. We’ll proceed as planned. I want to get his account with all the details on the record. We’ll request a doctor when we’re finished.”

  “It’s your call.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  They walked back into the room; this time Louie leaned against the wall. Jake stood, staring down at Washington. The silence filled the room. Washington broke.

  “What? I need something, please,” he begged.

  “The doctor’s on his way, Washington. In the meantime, I’m going to ask you a few questions. Your rights have been read to you, do you understand them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you remember what happened today?” Jake asked.

  “Yeah, the bitch wouldn’t shut up.”

  “What bitch, Washington?” Jake pushed.

  “Keisha,” he spit out.

  “How wouldn’t she shut up?”

  “She cried all day, all night, man. I couldn’t take the noise any longer. I had to shut her up.”

  “How’d you shut her up?” Jake handed Washington a cup of water.

  Pushing the cup aside, he answered. “I threw her against the wall.” In constant motion now, he couldn’t keep his hands, body, or head still.

  “Did that shut her up?” Jake’s stomach turned. It would be a miracle if his lunch stayed down.

  “No. She started whining.”

  “What happened next?” This would play well in court. Washington might be setting himself up for the death penalty.

  “She bled all over the damn rug…she ruined it. I shook her.”

  “Is that when she shut up?”

  “Yeah.” He started scratching; everywhere on his body he could reach.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jake noticed the doctor at the door. The captain must have called him.

  “Washington, the doctor’s here. We’re going to take a break. The doctor needs to examine you.”

  Jake turned toward the door to let the doctor in; when the secretary knocked, he waved her in and she handed Jake a sheet of paper. Jake took it from her, nodded. She left the room.

  “Washington, please read your statement over carefully,
then sign above your name,” Jake said, sitting down next to him.

  He grabbed the paper, scanned it, actually read it, signed his name, and handed the statement back to Jake with shaking hands. Jake made sure he’d signed in the right place. Surprised at how neatly Washington had signed his name.

  “Do I get my fix now?”

  “The doctor will determine what you get. He’ll need to know what you took today.” Jake stood, opening the door for the doctor. Jake walked out with Louie, leaving Washington with the doctor, along with a pair of uniforms. Heading back to the bullpen, Jake pulled up short. Louie walked right into him.

  “Hey, what the…”

  Jake ignored Louie and stared.

  Chapter Two

  “What are you doing here, Chloe?” He couldn’t hide his aggravation, an edge to his voice.

  “Nice greeting. I called, you didn’t answer. So I came around to check on my sister’s case.”

  “Isn’t it a little late to be out?”

  “No. I just thought I’d stop in.”

  “I don’t answer my personal phone at crime scenes. You’ve been told countless times you need to call through the switchboard to check up on Shanna’s case.”

  “I thought we could talk. You don’t return any of my calls.”

  “You don’t want to do this now…”

  Louie interrupted. “Jake, why don’t you head over to the lab and grab the reports? I’ll talk to Ms. Wagner.”

  Jake looked around the squad room; he saw the other detectives with their heads down, giving the appearance of privacy. He knew better—they were listening to every word he exchanged with Chloe. Cops were the worst gossips in the world.

  “It’s okay, Louie. I’ll handle it.” Jake turned his attention back to Chloe.

  “Jake, we need the reports to process the crime scene. You told the lab you were on your way. Go…I’ll update Ms. Wagner.”

  As Jake walked away, he heard Chloe ask, “Why’s he avoiding me?”

  *

  Louie took a few minutes to reply, studying her. He mentally noted her statistics—five-six, one hundred twenty pounds, brown hair, brown eyes, and full mouth in a rounded face. A pretty woman, in “the girl next door” kind of way; all wrapped in a bossy, possessive nature. The top two turn-offs for any man, especially one like Jake. Jake had dumped her quickly. He never dated any woman for long. Louie knew that Jake never allowed himself to get close to anyone.

  “He’s not avoiding you, Ms. Wagner. A difficult crime scene required all our attention.” Louie tactfully changed the subject. “What can I do for you?”

  “What’s happening with Shanna’s case?”

  “Unfortunately, we have nothing new. We haven’t forgotten her. We’ve started to re-interview everyone involved. We look at the case every week, Chloe. Unless some new piece of evidence turns up, or a new lead gives us another direction to look, we’ve hit a wall.”

  He hated when one got by them, this case particularly. Everything they’d learned about Shanna Wagner showed a woman who was well-liked. No enemies; a nice woman, everyone said. Louie knew murder. Such brutality normally meant the victim knew her killer. Somewhere along the line she pissed someone off and paid the price. Rage, Louie thought when remembering the crime scene pictures again—uncontrollable rage.

  “You can’t do anything else? My family’s torn apart. My mother haunts me several times a day to make sure I’m okay. My father walks around in a fog, like he’s lost. I believe they’re going to get a divorce. You say you can’t do anything else? What bullshit! You expect your answer will appease me? Well, it doesn’t. I’ll go over your heads to get my answers, Detective.” She shouted so loud that the other detectives in the bullpen looked over and went on alert.

  Louie thought Chloe’s anger at Jake seemed misguided. “We haven’t given up, Chloe. We’re working it every minute we have. Shanna deserves nothing less. Some cases take longer than others to solve. Some, I’m afraid to say, don’t get solved at all.”

  “I need closure. We need to move on. With the case still open, we can’t.”

  “We want to close the case too, Chloe.”

  Her next question didn’t surprise him. “Why isn’t he returning my calls, Detective?”

  Ah! Louie thought; the real reason for her visit. “I don’t know, Chloe. You need to ask him.”

  “I would, if he’d answer his phone.”

  “I don’t get involved in his personal life. I’ll tell him to call you. If you need anything else on your sister’s case, please call through the switchboard.” Louie stood, letting Chloe know their conversation had ended. He started to walk her toward the door.

  “Do you know why he stopped seeing me?”

  Persistent woman. “I don’t know, Chloe, he never said.” He had ideas he could offer, but thought better of it. “I’ll tell him to give you a call.” He turned and walked back to his desk.

  Jake came back ten minutes later. “Thanks, Louie, what did she want, an update?”

  “To be honest, I don’t think so. She asked for one, telling me how the murder’s affecting her whole family. How they aren’t coping well. Truthfully, Jake? My impression is it’s you, not the case, that brought her here. She ended our conversation asking what went wrong with the two of you. She wanted to know if you’d answer next time she called.” Louie let out a little whistle.

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I told her I don’t get involved in your personal life, though I didn’t see why you wouldn’t take her call.”

  “Oh puh-lease! I can’t get you out of my personal life. As for the call, I guess I’ll have to take it sometime. So you agree with me; there’s something off about her, right?” He stared at Louie.

  “I don’t know if something’s off, but she’s definitely more into how this is affecting her than in solving the case or helping her parents cope. That’s what I got from our conversation today. She’s making it about her, not her sister.”

  “Yeah, I got the same feel the last time we talked. I want to look at the case with new eyes. Let’s dig into Chloe’s life a little more deeply.”

  “Okay, you think we missed something there?”

  “I don’t know. I remember we didn’t look very deeply at the family. They couldn’t give a reason for Shanna being in town. I assumed the abduction took place at school. I don’t know…every time I see Chloe, something pushes forward in my head. I can’t quite grasp what it is. She’s not right. You know what I mean?”

  “Yeah, I do, but I don’t think she did it.”

  “Why, because she’s a woman?”

  “No, I’ve seen…we’ve seen some pretty vicious crimes performed by women, Jake. I just don’t get a vibe from her.”

  “We have. I’m not shutting the door until we rule her out completely.”

  *

  After Chloe left, they processed the mounds of paperwork each crime demanded, starting with the murder book. In the middle of entering evidence Louie let out a heavy sigh, reached for his desk phone and dialed a number, never looking at the time.

  “Hello.” A woman answered on the first ring.

  “Hey, it’s me.”

  “Louie, what’s the matter?” Sophia asked, in a sleepy voice.

  “Nothing, I just needed to hear your voice,” Louie said to his wife.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “A baby.”

  “Are you going to be long?”

  “I don’t know when I’ll get out of here. How are the kids?” he asked, missing the family and the routine.

  “We’re all fine. We missed you at dinner. I’ll wait up for you, Louie.”

  “I don’t know how late I’ll be.” He didn’t say don’t.

  “I’ll see you when you get home.”

  “I love you.” Louie didn’t care who heard or if they’d bust his chops later. Nobody did, so it told him everyone had heard about the crime scene.

  *

  “How’s Sophia?” Jake asked.<
br />
  “She’s good.”

  Jake’s phone rang. He answered.

  “Hi, Jake…”

  “Hi, Sophia, what’s up?”

  “Nothing, wanted to make sure you were okay too.”

  “I am, thanks…”

  “Okay. Louie reminded you about the party next week, right?”

  “Sophia, he does nothing but remind me. What’s up? I told him it better not be another fix-up. I know you mean well…”

  “Are you kidding, Jake? I learned my lesson after the last one. No fix-ups for Jake.”

  “Great. Thanks for calling, Sophia. Do you want to speak with Louie again?”

  “No, I’ll see him when he gets home. Take care, Jake.”

  “She’s great isn’t she?” Louie asked. The three of them had been friends for over seventeen years. Jake never gave Louie any cause for jealousy. They were family.

  “Yeah, she is.”

  *

  The next morning Jake picked Louie up. Together they headed to Farmington, to the medical examiner’s office. The ME, Doctor Lang, would perform the autopsy on Keisha at nine a.m.

  “I checked my email this morning. The lab sent over the tox report on Washington. I don’t know how a guy with all that shit in his system remained conscious. I printed out a copy for you,” Louie said.

  “Okay, I’ll look it over when we get to Farmington.”

  Not one of their favorite parts of the job, they geared up mentally for the autopsy. Some just hit you harder than others. Jake’s stomach rolled like waves in a storm over this one. As he drove down the road, his mind wandered back in time to his first visit to the morgue. The year was 1992.

  A buzzing rang out in his ears. He didn’t know if the sound came from the florescent lights overhead or the starkness of the corridor as their footsteps echoed in the silence. The buzzing grew louder as the door drew closer. The medical examiner, Doctor Ed Jerome, put his hand up to stop them.

  Taking a deep breath, he said, “James, I know you’ve done this a hundred times, but this time it’s different. I can make the identification for you.”

  “No, I need to do this, Ed.”

  “Okay, why doesn’t Jake wait out here?” Doctor Jerome offered, giving Jake an out.