All the Deadly Lies Page 24

  “See ya.” He hoped it would turn out to be a childish prank, though his instincts told him different.

  Louie walked into his office, helped himself to a seat, and handed Jake a copy of the list Meryl Drake had sent over.

  “I called Meryl Drake. That’s her list of friends. It looks like we’ll be busy tomorrow,” Louie said.

  “What do you mean tomorrow? There’s plenty of time to start dialing today,” Jake said, looking at his watch.

  Louie raised an eyebrow. “We’re not doing these in person?”

  “No, let’s start with phone calls, now before Meryl can warn them. If anything pops, we’ll give them a visit.”

  “I didn’t get any new reports from the lab, did you?”

  “No, I’ll call again. They said this week.”

  “Today’s only Monday, Jake.”

  “It feels like Friday. It’s aggravating.” Jake rubbed his temples where a headache was forming.

  “Sophia said I’m driving her crazy. I think of something, jump out of bed in the middle of the night, and grab the file and start looking for it—but it slips away. It’s right at the edge of my mind while I sleep and it disappears when I wake up.”

  “I got the same thing going on. I don’t believe we missed anything. We need to uncover everything associated with the new information we got this weekend. The diary’s the key. Find it, we find the answers. See if she accepted any other job offers outside her current firm. Also check if she made plans to leave the state,” Jake said.

  “Shanna might’ve confided in Donna, but if she did, Donna would’ve mentioned it,” Louie said.

  “Agreed, but ask her outright. I’ll take half of Meryl’s list, you take the other half. It shouldn’t take us long to cull through it.”

  * * * *

  One new piece of information resulted from all the calls—Meryl’s jealousy had become a problem for Shanna, and Meryl had become more and more controlling. She let no one near Shanna and they stopped going out to clubs. When they attended parties, Meryl never left her side. Meryl’s friend, JD Whitney, stated they argued a lot while out in public. If they did at home, she wasn’t privy to it. She’d seen Meryl’s jealous rage out of control, especially when someone approached or talked to Shanna.

  “I made an appointment for ten o’clock tomorrow to speak with J.D. Whitney. She lives in town,” Jake said. He checked his email next. The reports on the Adams car were in, including DNA results. The lab found skin cells in the trunk. They also found sweat deposits. The DNA belonged to one female, excluding Chelsea Adams, and one male.

  Jake updated Louie after he hung up. “They left behind their DNA. Unfortunately, they’re not in the system. I’m going to apply for a subpoena for samples.”

  “Well, it’s about time something came through. Who are we going to subpoena?”

  “I’m going to request Lola Adams, Jeff Adams, and Nick Pilarski. Can you think of anyone else?”

  “You’re not going to request Chelsea’s son or daughter?” Louie asked.

  “Not at this time, according to the DNA report, there’s no relation with the deceased.”

  “If it’s the father’s, there’ll be a relation to the kids,” Louie stated.

  “You’re right, but we won’t need it if Jeff supplies his sample and it matches the one in the trunk. I don’t want to upset the kids. Let’s hit up Judge Eisenberg again to get everyone’s?”

  “Might as well, he’s familiar with the case. I’ll take it over now, see if I can get a rush on this.” Jake walked back to his office to grab his jacket. Louie followed him in. Slipping on his jacket, Jake asked, “You coming?”

  “So much for leaving on time,” Louie said.

  “You want to leave on time, get a desk job.”

  “Yeah, like I’d be an asset in an office.”

  “You? Of course, you would. You’re so anal with your paperwork, they’d love you.” Jake slapped him on the back.

  “That’s true, but you’d miss me.”

  In the lobby, Jake headed for the front door. Louie grabbed hold of his arm. “We’re not driving over?”

  “It’s two blocks, Louie. It would take us a half an hour to find a parking spot at this time of day. Suck it up.”

  They walked up from the precinct toward the center of town. Jake spotted two drug deals going down. If time had permitted, he’d have busted them for having been so bold. But he needed the subpoenas. Picking up the pace, they reached the courthouse with fifteen minutes to spare before the courthouse closed.

  The judge’s clerk made them wait in the outer office for ten minutes before the judge opened his door and called them in. Eisenberg’s chambers reflected the judge’s personality—rich and formal, unlike the outer office, which had the standard governmental décor—gray everything. But in here his personal tastes showed in both art and color. The wall behind his desk, painted in a forest green, played off the window drapes of green and ivory. A large desk in a dark wood—Jake thought cherry—took up half the room. The office demanded respect, as did the judge himself. His steel-gray hair matched the outer office. Martin Eisenberg stood five-eight. His nose had been broken in a college boxing match, giving his face a mean perpetual expression. The judge presented a fierce, authoritative figure even while seated at his desk.

  “Jake, Louie, what can I do for you today?” Judge Eisenberg asked as his pale blue eyes narrowed. He pointed a finger to the clock on his wall. “At this late hour?”

  “Thanks for seeing us, Your Honor. We got the DNA report from the car on the Chelsea Adams case. There are two sets of DNA found in the car, besides the Adams woman’s. One’s male and one’s female. We’d like a subpoena for the ex-husband, his new wife, and the new wife’s ex-husband. Their names are Jeff Adams, Lola Adams, and Nick Pilarski,” Jake added.

  “Why include Chelsea Adams’s ex-husband and his new wife? I thought they lived in Florida?” Eisenberg asked as he stood and removed his robe, revealing a black suit with a fine gray pinstripe, a white shirt, and a gray tie with black stripes. Jake guessed him to be about sixty years of age, though he looked younger. Eisenberg kept himself in shape. The judge’s reputation intimidated a lot of detectives and criminals alike in the court room. The judge worked with the police to get results if they minded his time. Jake liked and respected him. He was betting on getting his subpoenas.

  “Jake, how’d the other warrant go last week on the Wagner case?” he asked. Eisenberg seemed to pick up on every little tidbit of gossip in and out of his court room pertaining to a case or the cops. This slap on the wrist was to remind him not everything needed to be expedited.

  “We brought in Chloe Wagner for questioning, but released her while we investigated the new allegations.” Jake danced around the fact he’d also pushed Eisenberg for the other warrant.

  “Pending further investigation of what new evidence?” Eisenberg asked.

  “We recovered the victim’s ring. We also found out she was either a lesbian or bisexual. We didn’t even pick up a hint of this in our initial investigation. Everyone kept quiet for their own reasons. We also discovered today she kept a diary. The one covering the month she died is missing,” Jake said.

  “How did you get this information?”

  “Her sister Chloe revealed Shanna’s orientation in her interview last week. Her father tried to hock the ring at JC’s Pawn Shop on Thursday. We learned of the diaries from a witness we missed in our first round of questioning at Shanna’s school.”

  “How did you miss a witness?” The judge looked over his glasses at Jake.

  “Your Honor, the witness’s father died unexpectedly the same weekend Shanna went missing. She headed home to Nebraska for the funeral. She didn’t return to school until two weeks later. We discovered her today when we re-interviewed everyone at the school.” Jake looked over at Louie.

 
“Your thoughts, Sergeant?” Eisenberg asked.

  “It’s frustrating when we don’t have all the pieces up front. I’m glad they’re now starting to fall into place. Maybe before the month’s over we’ll put this one to bed,” Louie said.

  “I’ll sign your subpoenas, Jake, but from now on do try not to make everything an emergency.”

  He signed the subpoenas and handed them to Jake as he held open his door for them to leave. He followed them out without another word.

  Together they walked back to the station at a more leisurely pace and passed city hall on the way. The night was mild with temperatures in the seventies. Jake scanned the streets as he watched for the dealer he’d seen on the way to the judge’s chambers. Not spotting him, he stopped in Vice to talk to Detective Max Carey. He gave Carey a description of the dealer.

  When he and Louie stepped into Homicide, he turned to Louie. “Why don’t you call it a night? I’m going to call Chief Taylor in Florida and tell him to expect the subpoenas.”

  “Katrina’s already gone home for the day, so she won’t be able to do the overnight package or print the labels for the vitals. Doris is on the desk for the nightshift. You have twenty minutes to make the overnight drop for today otherwise it’ll have to be driven to the facility in Watertown. I’ll take care of it and save you a trip. Call the chief,” Louie said, walking toward the copy machine.

  “Thanks, I forgot the time.”

  “You always do.” Louie started to make copies for Doris before he headed to her desk with the original subpoenas.

  Jake dialed the Neptune police chief. “Hi, Sammy, do you work twenty-four seven?”

  “It sure seems like it. Let me guess, Lieutenant Carrington from Connecticut? I expect you want to talk to the chief?” she asked.

  “Please.”

  “Hold on a minute,” she said. Taylor didn’t keep him waiting.

  “Hey, Connecticut, what can I do for you today?”

  “Beau, we got the lab reports back on the car Chelsea Adams was found in. It contained DNA for one female and one male, besides the victim. I have two subpoenas I’m going to overnight to you for DNA samples of Jeff and Lola Adams. Are you able to execute them and save me a trip?”

  “Oh, sure, I look forward to seeing that delicate creature with the gutter mouth again,” He joked. Jake recalled Taylor’s description of his last encounter with Lola.

  He appreciated Beau’s sarcasm. “Sorry, next time I’ll try to get a sweet-mouthed beauty.”

  “I hope there won’t be a next time, Jake,” Taylor said, his tone serious.

  “Me too, Beau.”

  “Do you want our labs to process the samples or overnight it back to you?”

  “Please overnight the samples back to us. They’ll go to UConn Medical Center. It’s where all of our state autopsies on suspicious deaths are performed. The overnight envelope will already be addressed for you. The case number will be on all the vials so you don’t have to label them but you’ll need to mark whose specimen is contained in each. I’ll give you the results as soon as I get them. Thanks,” Jake said.

  “Not a problem, Connecticut. We don’t want any murdering bastards here either. I’ll send you an email when the samples are on their way back to you.”

  Chapter 25

  His cell phone vibrated in his pocket as he was packing up for the day. Looking down at the caller ID he almost didn’t answer it. This woman just doesn’t get it. “Chloe, do I need to remind you that you’re required to go through the switchboard to talk to me?”

  “I’m not harassing you. I couldn’t wait until tomorrow to tell you. I got a weird phone call from Mark Cavilla. He wanted information—asked what you guys told me when I was arrested. Who told him I got arrested?”

  “I’ll look into how he found out. What else did he want?”

  “I’ll run through the phone call for you…if you have the time now?”

  “I do, go ahead.”

  “First, he said he heard about the arrest and figured I needed a friend. He’s not my friend, I haven’t heard from him in a couple of months. I asked if he was nervous and told him you were closing in. He wanted details about the case and my arrest. He asked what evidence you had against me in order for you to charge me. When I wouldn’t tell him anything, he caught an attitude with me. What do you think?” Chloe said.

  “It’s interesting, Chloe, but it doesn’t help the case. Make sure you don’t go anywhere alone with him or Meryl.”

  “I won’t. He spooked me and he’s running scared. Do you think he or Meryl killed my sister?” She was asking for comfort, but he had none to give. She could still be the killer.

  “I don’t think anything. I think it’s prudent to stay close to home. We’ll talk again.” Then Jake added, “At the station.”

  “I can’t tell you how much I miss my sister. You of all people should know, Jake, I live with the pain of her loss each day. I swear on my parents’ lives I didn’t kill her. Don’t waste time investigating me when her killer is still out there.”

  * * * *

  Jake arrived home at seven-thirty. He slung his jacket onto his bed and then locked his guns in the safe before he headed into the kitchen to grab a beer. At the kitchen table, he reviewed his files, wrote up his notes on the call from Chloe and also wrote up his notes on his conversation with the Police Chief in Florida.

  Cavilla’s call to Chloe occupied his mind. What did he want and how did he find out about Chloe’s arrest on Friday? They’d kept it off the books on purpose. Meryl was the caller asking for information. Someone at the station had to have notified Cavilla, but who?

  Meryl wasn’t happy to hear from him when he called. “Meryl,” he said when she answered.

  “Yeah, what do you want?”

  “It’s Lieutenant Carrington.” He identified himself.

  “I said what do you want? I already spoke with the sergeant.”

  “I understand. Meryl, this is important. It’s for Shanna. Have you spoken with Mark Cavilla lately?”

  “No. I don’t talk to the bastard. I can’t stand him. He thought he owned Shanna.” She always sounds angry, he noted. “Why are you asking?”

  “Nothing, I’m putting all the players in order, assessing their relationships to each other. We’ll talk soon.”

  “For some reason, I don’t believe you. I have no relationship with Cavilla. He’s a dickhead. Are you going to give me anything else on this?”

  “All I can offer you is the investigation is ongoing, Meryl. Thanks again. Good night.” She hung up on him. He got that a lot lately. He must be hitting some nerves.

  Jake knew he’d perked Meryl’s curiosity though it couldn’t be helped. Until a definite suspect emerged, was arrested, and locked away based on the evidence, he couldn’t give any one of them information. He needed to put his prime suspect at the scene—so far he hadn’t been able to. He was sure the killer had kept the diary as a souvenir. Find the diary. Find the killer, he thought again. It sounded so simple—he wished.

  Jake pulled a couple of burgers from the fridge and sat them on the counter to come to room temperature. He grabbed another beer, walked out to his deck, and sat in a chair and watched the sun as it started to set. He took a sip of his beer then pressed one on his cell phone to speed dial Mia’s number.

  * * * *

  Louie sat down to dinner with his family. As usual, he couldn’t get a word in edgewise with the chatter of the kids, and Sophia breaking up arguments. That was okay with him. The case, along with the new evidence, occupied his mind. No clear individual stood out. Too many people wanted a piece of poor Shanna. He blew out a breath when Sophia cut into his thoughts.

  “You okay, Louie? You seem distracted.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. So much has come down the last few days. I’m trying to put it in order.”

  �
��Why don’t you do it later? For now, you can reintroduce yourself to the kids.” Sophia smiled at him.

  “Funny. Hi, kids. I’m your dad.” He laughed.

  “Oh, really?” Marisa said, reminding him of her mother.

  “Yes, really. So, I take it you missed me?”

  “I didn’t. Mom brought this other guy over to fill in for you. A great substitute and he’s much better looking,” Marisa said, flashing him a grin that had cost him thousands of dollars.

  Yep, just like her mother. “Well, I’m glad to hear I wasn’t missed. So next week, you can go to him for your allowance,” Louie said with a straight face.

  “Jeez, Dad, I was only joking,” she complained.

  “How are you doing, LJ?” he asked his oldest son.

  “Dad, Mom said I needed to ask you first if I could borrow the car Saturday night. Her curfew’s eleven,” LJ said.

  “Your mother’s curfew is eleven? Good to know.” Louie laughed.

  “Come on, Dad, my date’s curfew.”

  The kid never appreciates my humor. “Who’s the girl?”

  “Melissa Phelps.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “What’s this, the third degree? I’m not a suspect,” LJ said, moving food around his plate.

  “No, you’re not a suspect. You’re my son—my underage son, who wants to borrow my car. I’d like to know where you’re going. You’re sixteen, remember that.”

  “I thought we’d go to the movies and get something to eat after,” he replied, looking down at his food.

  “LJ’s got a girlfriend, LJ’s got—” Marisa taunted.

  “Stop it, Marisa. Leave your brother alone. You can have the car, LJ, and your mother and I agreed you’ll take her cell phone with you, in case of an emergency.”

  “I wouldn’t have to take her phone if you allowed me to have one.”

  “We’ve been over all this before.”

  “It’s so unfair. Everyone in my class has a phone but me.” LJ hunched over his plate.

  “Do you not want to go out on Saturday?”