All the Deadly Lies Page 29
“And if I say no, what will you do?”
“I’ll handcuff you right here in the street for all your neighbors to see. Then I’ll call for a patrol car. I’ll make sure he has his lights and sirens on too. We wouldn’t want anyone to miss the show. Any neighbor who missed the handcuffing will get to see you placed in the patrol car. Am I clear?” Beau towered over Lola. Jake thought it a great stare. It even put the fear of God in him.
“Oh, come in.” Lola played with her necklace as she waved them in. “This is ridiculous. I’m going to call the lawyer again. Sit down and don’t touch anything.” She started walking toward the kitchen in the back of the house, muttering, “I had an easier life when she was alive.”
“Excuse me, Mrs. Adams, did you say something?” Beau smiled at Jake.
She yelled from the kitchen, “No.”
“I didn’t think so,” Beau said, turning toward Jake again. “Didn’t I tell you? Delicate creature.”
Jake stifled a laugh because Lola Adams had returned to the room.
Louie said to her, “Mrs. Adams, is your lawyer coming?”
“He’ll be here in ten minutes. In the meantime, don’t touch anything while I continue my chores.”
“Excellent, I’m glad he’s available on such short notice,” Louie said.
“He’s always available to me,” she said.
All three exchanged a look, not bothering to acknowledge her comment. They sat around and no one spoke while they waited on the lawyer. Lola left the room and didn’t offer them anything, not even a glass of water.
Jake called out, “Is your husband home?”
“No, he’s working. Does he need to be here?”
“No, we want to speak with you first,” Jake said.
She walked back into the room with a dishrag dangling in her hand. “And you are?”
“When your lawyer gets here, we’ll tell you.” Two can play this game.
It took the lawyer thirty minutes to get there, not ten. Jake could tell Lola wasn’t happy with him. She showed him no mercy as she dragged him into the kitchen when he arrived. In the living room, the three of them heard her giving the lawyer a piece of her mind.
Lola and her attorney re-entered the living room after five minutes of yelling at each other. The introductions began.
Beau greeted the lawyer by his first name. After all, it was a small town.
“Hey, Wayne.”
“Beau.” A small man, Wayne Ford stood five-four, weighing in at a hundred sixty pounds. Fortyish, he wore his salt-and-pepper hair cut close to his scalp.
“Jake, Louie, this is Wayne Ford, attorney at law. Wayne, this is Lieutenant Jake Carrington and Sergeant Louie Romanelli of the Wilkesbury, Connecticut, Police Department.” Beau finished the introductions as they watched Lola’s reaction. She didn’t disappoint.
“Why are you here in Florida?” she demanded, springing from the couch.
“We have a warrant for your arrest in the murder of Chelsea Adams,” Jake said.
“What are you, assholes? I didn’t kill anyone,” she said. “Wayne, can they do this to me?”
“Sit down, Lola. Lieutenant, can I have the warrant?” Jake handed Ford a copy. Wayne took his time reviewing it. “It’s in order, Lola,” he said after ten minutes.
Lola and Wayne seemed quite intimate with each other.
“Florida doesn’t have to give me up. Right, Wayne?” Lola asked.
“We have reciprocal agreements with Connecticut, Mrs. Adams. They did their homework. All their paperwork is in order for your transfer into their custody. We’re going to take you to the station. There they’ll process you and question you further.” Chief Taylor answered instead of Wayne. “You can fight extradition, but I don’t recommend it.”
“Why not?”
“Because Connecticut repealed the death penalty, Florida hasn’t.”
Daggers flew from her eyes as Lola stared her attorney down. “I need a glass of water.” Lola got up and walked into the kitchen.
The four of them sat there waiting for her to come back into the room. After a few minutes Beau answered a knock at the front door. He invited his female officer into the house. The patrolwoman had a tight grip on a barefooted Lola, who was screaming at the top of her lungs.
“A stupid move, Mrs. Adams, you’ve added an extra charge to the list the lieutenant has.”
Chief Taylor gave his officer her instructions, explaining she needed to stay with the prisoner until their return. “I’m suing you all for treating me like this,” Lola kept yelling as the officer cuffed her and dragged her away.
Taylor informed the attorney that he had about an hour to talk with his client before they got back to the station. First, they wanted to search the premises.
After completing the search, the three of them headed to the restaurant where Jeff Adams worked and took him in for questioning. Evidence on him was thin, a single hair. The evidence against Lola was solid. In their discovery process, they had unearthed her plane tickets, her hotel bill for the weekend in April, the statement from her friend, her DNA from the sweat and saliva she had left behind in the car. They sent Jeff Adams to the station in a patrol car, while they questioned his manager again.
Under questioning, he didn’t change his story. Jeff Adams had worked the whole weekend. The manager saw him there. No one had punched him in and no one punched him out. His time card proved he got paid for the whole weekend.
“I’d offer you our security tapes, but we reuse them every thirty days. If you’d asked sooner…” The restaurant manager shrugged his shoulders. “It wouldn’t have been a problem. I’ve been the manager here for six years, Beau. I wouldn’t lie for an employee. They come and they go, as you know. Jeff Adams is one of the more reliable ones. Can you keep me in the loop? Please call me as soon as possible if I have to replace him,” the manager said.
“Thanks, Brian, will do. He’s only being questioned at this time,” Taylor said.
They interviewed Jeff Adams. He didn’t want a lawyer. He stressed he had worked all weekend. Louie took a seat across from Jeff. Taylor and Jake stood on either side of the door.
“Jeff, can you tell me how your hair fibers were discovered in a car in Connecticut? The car we found Chelsea’s body in?” Louie asked.
“You’re lying. I was here in Florida and was at work most of the time. I haven’t seen Chelsea since I moved here. When we would talk on the phone it was about the kids.” Sweat poured down Adams’s face. When they handed him the receipts to review, Adams had to wipe his face and eyes to read them.
“Do you always sweat this much, Jeff?” Jake asked.
Jake loved working with Louie. Their natural rhythm complemented each other. Jake felt Beau’s stare. He turned his head and exchanged a look with him.
“I do down here. The humidity kills me,” Adams said, wiping his hands across his face again.
“We’re indoors, Jeff, and the air-conditioning is on,” Louie said.
The room filled with silence. Jake pushed off the wall where he stood next to Beau and asked, “What information do you have on Chelsea’s death, Jeff?”
“I don’t have any. I’m not involved. How could I? I’ll tell you again, I worked here all weekend.”
“You keep repeating yourself, Jeff. You sent Lola to Connecticut to do the deed, while you stayed here to cover yourself?” Jake said as he took a seat next to Louie.
Adams jumped out of his seat. “What, are you crazy? I’d never hurt Chelsea. She’s great. I mean—”
Taylor walked behind Jeff, pushed him into the chair.
“If she was great, why’d you divorce her?” Jake asked.
“I’m an ass, that’s why,” Adams whispered.
“Excuse me?” Jake said.
“I said, I’m an ass,” Adams said, louder. “Life go
t too comfortable, boredom set in. This young thing came on to me at work. Well, it got out of hand. Before I could blink, I’m getting a divorce, and Chelsea and I are in the fight of our lives. It was a helluva time for her to get mean. She gave it to me good. Chelsea took everything.”
Changing tactics, Louie asked, “Do you think one of the kids killed her for the money?”
He jumped up again, going after Louie. “Don’t you dare say anything about my kids—they love their mother. They’d never hurt her.” He was breathing hard when he finished, face bright red, his sweating increased. Jake and Beau grabbed Jeff by the arms and shoved him back in his seat.
“Do you have a heart condition, Jeff?” Jake asked, ignoring Jeff’s outburst.
“No.”
“You stated Lola visited her friend in Miami on April sixteenth for the whole weekend.” Jake looked at Adams, figuring they’d have to call in the paramedics soon.
“She said she went to Miami to visit her friend.”
“And you believed her?” Louie asked.
“Yes, why wouldn’t I?” Jeff said.
Jake dropped the airline tickets, the hotel bill, and the charge slips on the table.
Adams picked them up and started reading them. He looked up at Jake then back down at the receipts a couple of times before he focused on Jake’s face.
“What are you saying?”
“I think it’s obvious, Jeff. Lola went to Connecticut on the weekend of the sixteenth. She lied to you. You’re going to sit there and tell me you didn’t have a clue? Come on, no one’s that stupid,” Jake finished.
“I guess I am,” Jeff stated before he started hyperventilating.
Beau called for the medics.
* * * *
At the soda machine in the hallway they each got a drink while they waited for the medics to transport Adams.
“Well, fun, fun, fun. What do you think Lola will do when we tell her Jeff’s been rushed to the hospital?” Beau asked.
“Let’s go find out,” Jake tossed a smirk over his shoulder.
“I have a feeling she’s not going to be too concerned,” Louie said.
“Oh, Louie, you have such a negative outlook on people,” Jake said, poking him in the side.
“Yeah, years of dealing with the earth’s scum,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders.
“I hear ya,” Beau said.
With their best cop faces in place, the three of them walked into the interview room holding Lola and her attorney. Wayne Ford jumped up as soon as they entered. “Why have you made us wait this long? What’s going on?”
Beau nodded to the officer at the door and dismissed her. He turned back to the lawyer.
“Wayne, we had a medical emergency and took care of it first.” He addressed Lola Adams. Jake noted Lola’s casual demeanor. She lounged in her chair, as if it were a bar stool. Takes all kinds, he thought.
“Mrs. Adams, your husband had some kind of an attack while being interviewed. We had to call the paramedics. Jeff’s on his way to the hospital,” Chief Taylor said.
“What’s wrong with him?” She leaned forward.
“Not known at this time.”
“Is that why you kept me waiting?” She patted her hair.
“Yes.”
“I see. You interviewed him first?” she asked, annoyed. All thoughts of her husband were gone.
“Yes,” Beau said.
“What did he tell you?” She leaned forward again.
“This is not how it works, Mrs. Adams,” Jake interrupted. “We’ll ask the questions, you answer them.”
“And if I don’t want to?” Lola sat back, draped an arm over the chair next to her.
“We return you to lockup, where you will stay until we transport you to Connecticut,” Jake said, staring her down.
“Ask your questions.” Her scrunched up forehead reminded Jake of her mother.
“You were in Connecticut the weekend of April sixteenth. Did you kill Chelsea Adams?” Jake asked.
“No.”
“No, you were not in Connecticut or no, you didn’t kill Chelsea Adams?” Louie asked.
“No to both questions.”
Gotcha! Jake handed her the receipts for the airline ticket, her charge cards, and the hotel bill. He watched shock register on her face.
“Where’d you get these?” Lola slapped her hands on the table.
“Mrs. Adams, we’re not playing games here. A woman lost her life because someone thought they had the right to take it. Now, I’ll ask again, were you in Connecticut on the sixteenth of April and did you kill Chelsea Adams?” Jake asked again.
“Yes, I visited a friend in Connecticut. Why would I kill Jeff’s ex?”
“You tell me.”
“No reason.”
“What did you do in Connecticut?” Louie asked, waiting for the lie.
“I visited a friend,” she said, acting bored. Jake watched her take control of her emotions.
“What’s her name?”
“Who said it’s a woman?” She played him, or tried. Jake didn’t buy it.
“Who’s your friend, Lola?” Jake asked.
“Katy Bonita.”
“You spent the whole weekend with her?”
“Yes, I did.”
Jake handed her the hotel bill. She and her attorney looked at it. Putting their heads together, they whispered to each other before Lola answered.
“I stayed in the hotel on Friday night, because I got in late. On Saturday, I stayed at Katy’s.”
“What did you do on Friday night?” Jake asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Did you go out?” Louie asked, taking over the questioning.
“I went down to the hotel bar for a little while.” Lola looked between them, not sure who to address.
“No, you didn’t. We questioned the bartenders, showed your picture around. No one remembers seeing you,” Louie said.
“I can’t help it if I’m not memorable.” She shrugged her left shoulder.
“Come on, Lola, I expected better from you. I’m disappointed,” Jake said.
“You think you know me?”
“We run into your type all the time,” Louie jumped in, baiting her.
“Yeah, what type is that?”
“‘The world owes me’ type,” Louie said.
“What do you know, you bastard? My father drank to shut out my hard-ass mother, and ignored me. Don’t act like you understand me.”
They didn’t get much more from her. They decided not to spend the night in Florida. Beau sent for a female officer to accompany them to Connecticut. They arranged transportation to the airport and thanked Beau for his hospitality. Taylor would question Jeff Adams again, and pinpoint his movements on April sixteenth as soon as the doctors released him from the hospital.
Touching down in Hartford at eleven PM, exhausted after twelve hours on the road, Jake saw no rest in their near future. They still needed to deliver the prisoner to the station and process the paperwork. He picked up his car up from the short-term lot, then drove to the station and turned custody of Lola Adams over to the duty officer. Before he headed to his office, he had a uniform take the Florida officer to the Marriot for the night. After thanking her, he made plans to take her to the airport in the morning. After another hour of paperwork, he told Louie to call it quits for the night.
On their way out, Jake asked, “Do you think it’ll stick?”
“I hope so. Our evidence is solid. She’s no Cavilla. She won’t confess,” Louie said.
“No, she won’t. Do you think her husband knew?”
“It was hard to read him.”
“It was.” Jake had never gotten a vibe from him.
Chapter 33
When Jake got home, he fell on his
bed fully clothed and passed out. He never listened to his messages until morning. Around six, he got up and showered before he went into the kitchen to start the coffee. With it brewing, he cracked a couple eggs into a pan. As they started to cook, he turned from the stove to reach for the pepper and noticed the flashing light on his answering machine. He hit play.
“Mr. Carrington, it’s Doctor Glass. Tomorrow I have to turn the dog over to the humane society and wanted to check in with you before I did, since you showed an interest in her. Please give me a call.”
Jake wrote down the vet’s number. The next message started playing as he turned back to the stove to flip the eggs. His body went rigid as Mia’s voice filled the kitchen.
“Hi, Jake, it’s Mia. I wanted to call to apologize for my rudeness on Saturday. I could have handled my anger better. I’m sorry. I understand you thought you were protecting me and doing something nice, but I’m not helpless—” Her voice cut off. The machine moved to the third message, and Mia’s voice continued.
“I don’t want to end this on a bad note. I need my independence. I can’t be with someone who wants to control me or protect me. When it comes to me I make the decisions. No one else. It was a rough visit with my parents. Though it isn’t an excuse, it affected my mood more than I thought. I’d like the opportunity to discuss this with you in person, because I’m not a coward. You do deserve an explanation—” The machine cut off the message again.
On the fourth message, Mia finished up her speech. “When you get this, Jake, please give me a call. I’d like to schedule a time for us to discuss this issue.”
The machine went dead.
He poured another cup of coffee. As he sipped it, he debated. Should he call her back? The smoke alarm started blasting as smoke filled the air. Turning to the stove, grabbed the pan, and burnt his hand and dropped it back on the stove. Eggs ruined, he threw them away. He picked up a towel and waved it under the smoke alarm until it stopped blaring. He picked up his cup and took a sip. What was wrong with him? How could one woman make him react this way? Days ago, he’d realized he loved her. It seemed like years now. Although he understood where Mia was coming from, he still believed he’d done what was best for her.