All the Deadly Lies Page 28

  “Don’t push me, I’m getting to it. It’s all related.” Cavilla waved his hand in the air in a gesture that had Jake grinding his teeth. The little bastard assumes he’s in control here. He bit down on his anger. Jake needed Cavilla to detail everything to lock him in.

  Mark’s eyes lost focus as he continued.

  “When she got back to the dorm, Meryl kissed her good-bye and drove off. The other girls went inside. Shanna must have needed something from her car because she headed over to the parking lot. As she leaned into her car, I grabbed her from behind—”

  “You planned on raping her?” Jake asked.

  “No. No, I told you, I wanted to talk to her. I pushed her into my car because she wouldn’t get in it. Then she started yelling at me. Lord, you should’ve heard her. I panicked. She asked if I was nuts. I told her to shut up because we were going to talk. She screamed that she wasn’t going to talk to me today, tomorrow, or ever. I hate her. I told her she humiliated me at work and she owed me this conversation. I told her she made a joke of me and broke my heart as well as screwing with my career. I’d have to find another job to make the jokes go away. She said she didn’t understand. We had a couple dates and she’d said nothing to anyone. Shanna didn’t understand how anyone at work knew,” Mark said.

  “Mark, how did they find out at work?”

  Mark ignored the question

  “You didn’t tell a buddy over drinks or say something at lunch like she was frigid?” Louie asked from behind Cavilla.

  Cavilla turned to address Louie. “One of the guys at lunch said how she was hot and I might’ve mentioned it.”

  Jake pulled Cavilla’s attention back to him. “Did you tell him she was frigid, or gay?”

  “I might’ve mentioned bisexual.”

  “So it was you who made a joke of you and not Shanna?”

  “No…yes…no, I didn’t mean to. I was mad at her. God.” He put his head in his hands. “She was beautiful and smart. Everything I wanted in a wife. But she didn’t want me.”

  “After you got her in the car, what happened?” He wanted to push Mark but didn’t dare in case Cavilla shut down.

  “I had her by the wrist so she couldn’t leave the car and she tried prying my fingers off her arm. Yelling how I was bruising her. Shanna told me if I let her out of the car she wouldn’t report me. I didn’t trust her, not for one damn second. Lord, my head was pounding and I couldn’t think—I reached for the water bottles. I uncapped one and gave it to her. She pushed it back at me. Damn it, she made me madder.”

  “You gave her the one with the GHB in it?” Jake asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “You understand Gamma-Hydroxybutyrate is an illegal substance?” Jake wanted the full name of the drug on the record.

  “Yes.”

  “What happened when she pushed the bottle away?”

  “I jumped on top of her and forced her to drink. She spit it in my face. Before I knew it, I slammed my fist into her face. It took one punch to knock her out. When she started to come to, I forced the bottle to her mouth and poured it in. She started to choke, but she drank enough to feel the effects…” Cavilla stared into space, his eyes narrowed on a spot on the wall. “I tied her hands together.”

  “How did it affect her, Mark?” Cavilla either didn’t hear his question or was ignoring it. Jake asked a second time and waited him out.

  “Shanna didn’t react like she was supposed to. I drove her to Wilkesbury to a dead-end street I knew. Instead of getting horny, she fought me. The drug made her aggressive. It was easy to control her. She didn’t weigh much. I stripped her down and then took the billy club from my trunk. The bitch wanted a stick. I was going to give her a stick.”

  Heat burned his face as Jake tried to control his anger. He pushed down his temper as he listened to Cavilla’s account of the night Shanna died. Bastard, if they weren’t on video he’d smash the kid’s face into the concrete wall and violate him with a hard-wooden stick to teach him a lesson. The M.E.’s report flashed back into his head, recounting each trauma Shanna had endured with the club.

  Yes, the bastard deserves his turn at the end of the stick. He could only hope he got it in prison.

  “What happened next?” Jake struggled for control, his temper on a thin leash.

  “Even stoned she kept pushing me away, fighting me—I lost it. Minutes later, I think, it was like I came back to myself and realized what I’d done. She was dead. I keep water and soap in my trunk to wash the car, so I pulled it out, along with a tarp and a mini vac, and I dragged her to one of the houses being built and washed her down to get rid of any evidence. I cleaned under her nails and combed and vacuumed the body for any stray hairs. I wasn’t going to leave my DNA. I watch those shows.” Cavilla stopped and took another sip of his water.

  “What did you do next?”

  “I dragged her to the woods and rolled her down the hill. After that I went to the bar to establish my alibi because I was there earlier and wanted the bartender to remember me.”

  “So instead of calling the police and an ambulance, in case she wasn’t dead, you cleaned her and dumped her in the woods like trash?” Jake said.

  “Yes.”

  Jake saw the anger he felt mirrored on Louie’s face. The room filled with a heavy silence as he let the interview run through his mind. He had a few more things he needed to get on the record.

  “When did you write in her diary it was her fault?”

  “Last night after I spoke with Chloe, all she had to do was talk to me, but no, she was too good for me. It pissed me off.”

  Good, he’s showing no remorse. It will help hang him. “Louie, do you have any questions for Mark?”

  “Why did you keep the ring, her purse, and her diary?”

  “I loved her. I wanted something of her with me always,” Cavilla whispered.

  “You don’t comprehend the word love or what it is, Mark,” Louie said as he unlocked the leg chains and yanked Cavilla to a standing position then ushered Cavilla to the door to the uniforms waiting outside the room.

  Drained, Jake watched as they left the room—a predator stopped. But he knew full well another would follow right behind this one.

  One more victory, Eva, though hollow. God, I wish I could stop them before they take more innocent lives.

  * * * *

  When Louie came back from booking he came into Jake’s office. Jake opened his bottom drawer and took out his bottle of Johnny Walker Blue. He poured two glasses, handed one to Louie.

  “To closure.” Jake raised his glass in a toast.

  “To closure.” Glasses clinked before each began downing their drinks.

  “I better give the Wagners a call,” Jake said.

  “Okay. I’ll start the report while you do that.”

  Jake filled Joe Wagner in on the arrest though he withheld some details. He gave them nothing more than what he planned on giving in his press release. “Cavilla’s lawyer stated he’s going to order a psych exam for him. But the thing is, he fired his lawyer. I’m sure this will still happen. Either way, Mr. Wagner, it should still come to trial within months.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant. I understand we came to blows a lot. I’m sorry. You weren’t working for us, but for Shanna,” Joe Wagner said.

  “I’m sorry, too. Sometimes a murder investigation steps on the survivors. Do you want to tell Chloe or do you want me to?”

  “No, I’ll do it. She needs to stay away from you.”

  “Thanks.” Jake hung up and then walked to the captain’s office to update him.

  While Shamus finished a phone conversation, Jake stood by McGuire’s window and looked out over the downtown area. The captain hung up and turned his attention to Jake.

  “The samples have been collected from Spaulding. The commissioner put a rush on the results. We hope
to have them back within a month or two.”

  “You said either today or tomorrow. Why wasn’t I notified?”

  “For the same reason, you can’t touch the case. It’s a conflict of interest.”

  It doesn’t matter. One way or another Spaulding will pay for killing Eva. It was his duty and his promise to her.

  Chapter 31

  Around one on Sunday morning, Jake stepped back into his house after working Cavilla most the night. Wired, unable to sleep, he fidgeted around all night and day. He needed to go into the station and finish his reports but he had no energy to do so. He wanted to call Mia and apologize, but every time he reached for the phone, he got angry. She was the one being unreasonable, not him. Run her life, his ass. For crying out loud, all he’d done was try to make things easier for her. Last night Louie had tried to speak to him about it, but he pushed him away. He’d already called three times this morning, and it wasn’t even noon.

  * * * *

  Mia woke at ten o’clock, feeling groggy. She hadn’t slept well last night. Her anger at Jake hadn’t abated. How dare he assume he could make decisions for her. She didn’t need another interfering man in her life. Her father was one too many.

  She was sorry she had embarrassed him in front of his friends, but Friday’s dinner with her parents hadn’t turned out well, thanks to her father’s ambush. She still couldn’t understand why he had invited her former, low-life, fiancé to join them. From there things deteriorated to the point of no return. Her blood boiled even now at the audacity of it.

  She and Logan Andrews had gone back and forth over her responsibilities as defined by him. He had taunted her about her meager job and her book—her tolerance level had peaked. She had pushed away from the table, said her good-byes, gave her mother a peck on the cheek, and started to walk out. She refused to put up with her father’s criticism any longer. Over her shoulder she had asked, “Father, did you send me a dead animal as a way of scaring me home?” She hadn’t waited for his answer.

  * * * *

  Wrapped in his reports on Monday morning, Jake heard a noise at his door. He looked up to see Louie standing there. “What’s up, Louie?”

  “You okay? I called yesterday.”

  “I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I still don’t.”

  “I’m here if you change your mind.”

  An awkward moment of silence fell over the room. Jake was grateful when the phone rang, saving him from having to come up with a reply. “Lieutenant Carrington, this is Joanne Gale from the UConn Medical Center. I have the results on the samples you wanted rushed.”

  “What are they?”

  “I’m sending you an email now,” Joanne said.

  You’re driving me nuts. Get to the freakin’ point. “Thanks, Joanne, what are they?”

  “Both samples match the samples taken from the car,” she said.

  “Both?” Jake asked, surprised.

  “Yes, both.”

  “What sample matched who?”

  “The hair fibers matched Jeff Adams. The skin cells, saliva, and sweat matched Lola Adams.”

  “Thanks again, Joanne. When should I see the email?”

  “It should be there now. I already sent it.”

  The email popped into his inbox. He printed out two copies of the report, one of which he handed to Louie. He kept the other for the murder book.

  “What do you think? According to Beau Taylor, he verified Jeff Adams’s schedule with his boss for said weekend. He couldn’t be in two places at once.”

  “Do you think Lola planted it there to incriminate him?” Louie asked.

  “I don’t know what to think except that we’re going to be heading down to Florida within the next couple of hours to see for ourselves. I’m going in to talk to the captain.” Jake got up from his chair and started out of the office.

  “I’ll start the paperwork on the request for flights.” Louie grabbed Jake’s arm before he could leave the office. “Jake, please give Mia a call and straighten things out.”

  “Let it be, Louie.”

  Jake explained everything to the captain. McGuire asked, “Are you going to call Chief Taylor and tell him the results?”

  “No, he said he interviewed the manager at the restaurant where Adams worked. He verified his work schedule for the weekend of the sixteenth. I’m inclined to trust him, but I want to verify his alibi for myself.”

  “I’ll get the paperwork ready for extradition. Have Katrina take care of the flight and hotel scheduling.”

  “Louie’s already on it.”

  * * * *

  Jacksonville, Florida, temperatures were in the mid-nineties when they landed. Back in Connecticut they were still in the low seventies, even this late in June. After Jake signed for the rental car, Louie took the keys from the clerk and loaded their bags into the truck. It was a short drive to Neptune, without any stops until they reached the police station. The receptionist/dispatcher seemed surprised to see them when he slipped his badge on the counter.

  “Hi, Lieutenant,” she said in her southern drawl as she studied it. “You look like you sound.”

  “Good or bad?” he joked. The room was filled with Florida sunshine, some from the windows, the rest from Sammy.

  She laughed. “Good.” Shifting back to work mode, she said, “Do you want to see the chief? He didn’t say you were expected.”

  “Things came down fast. We booked our flights and hoped we’d catch the chief before the end of his day. Is he here?” Jake said.

  “Yes, he’s in his office. I’ll go get him.” Before walking down the hall, he noticed she had switched off her computer screen.

  Jake thought she too looked like she sounded—a cute, petite blonde, standing no taller than five-three, with a voluptuous figure. If a person didn’t look directly into her eyes they’d miss the cop, the worldly knowledge of the underbelly of what coexisted alongside decent law abiding citizens.

  Beau Taylor followed Sammy back down the hall to greet them. At six-two with sun-bleached blond hair and pale blue eyes, Taylor’s swagger reminded Jake of John Wayne. A thin and lanky frame didn’t fool Jake. He saw the biceps peeking out from under his shirt sleeves and figured he could handle himself in a fight.

  Grinning, Taylor walked toward Jake with his hand out. “You must be Lieutenant Jake Carrington,” Beau said.

  “How’d you tell me from the sergeant here?”

  “I’ll use the dreaded word in law enforcement now. I profiled you. Carrington, Irish. The sergeant, he looks Italian.” He pronounced it Eye-Talian. “Am I right or wrong?”

  “You’re right. Chief Beau Taylor, Sergeant Louie Romanelli, my partner.” They took Beau’s hand in turn.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Louie. What do I owe this unexpected pleasure to, Connecticut?”

  “Things came down fast today. A couple of hours ago we got the DNA samples back. They match both Mr. and Mrs. Adams—hair fibers from him—skin cells, saliva, and sweat from her. We’d like you to interview them again with us, since you have such a great rapport with Lola. We’d also like to interview the restaurant manager, and recheck Adams’s alibi,” Jake said.

  “Why didn’t you call? I could have checked it all out for you and saved you a trip,” Beau asked, watching Jake with a trained eye.

  “To be honest, I wanted to get here and interview them myself. I always like the element of surprise. If you went to speak with them again, they might have taken off. I didn’t want to chance it, Beau.”

  “You don’t trust me, Connecticut?” Beau asked, still not breaking eye contact.

  “I do, Beau. I can’t put my finger on it, but something’s not adding up. How would you have handled it?”

  “Probably the same way.” He smiled at Jake. “Let me contact my officers. I have one watching the house and another one watching the
restaurant.”

  “Can we surprise them too?” Jake asked.

  “We can, if you tell me why.”

  “Jeff Adams is good with electronics. He might have a police scanner in his home and could be monitoring your broadcasts. I don’t want to take any chances.”

  “Leave your rental here. We’ll take my car. The house is about six miles away, the restaurant four miles. We’ll hit the house first. I want you to have the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Adams—”

  “She left quite an impression on you?” Jake interrupted.

  “She did. In Desert Storm, I didn’t take as much fire as I did from her. She’s the queen of mean.”

  “Do we need our cups?” Louie joked.

  Beau started laughing. “I don’t think it would hurt to wear one around her. I can tell you her husband has no balls left. She runs the show there.”

  Chapter 32

  The three of them pulled up alongside an unmarked car. Beau got out of the car, and walked over to speak with his officer. He came back and sat in the driver’s seat.

  “Officer Hatcher said Mrs. Adams never left her home this morning. Are you ready?”

  “Yes, are you ready to arrest her if it warrants it?” Jake asked.

  “Yes, you have your paperwork in order, correct?”

  “Correct,” Jake said, handing it to Beau to review.

  After reading it Taylor said, “Let’s get it done.”

  As a unit, the three of them approached the front door. Taylor rang the bell. Mrs. Lola Adams answered. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-eight. Her hair was streaked with blond over black, heavy makeup caked on her eyes. She wore short-shorts and a tube top which barely contained her breasts, along with her ornate sandals. Cheap with a capital C, Jake thought.

  “What do you want?” She spoke to Beau, ignoring him and Louie.

  “Mrs. Adams, may we come in?” Beau said.

  “Why?”

  “These officers have some questions for you.”

  “Who are they?” He and Louie didn’t say a word, happy to let Beau run the show.

  Beau ignored her question and asked again, “Can we come in, Mrs. Adams?”