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All the Deadly Lies Page 3
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“No. The board reviewed your request.” Lord Christ, the man has the best poker face I’ve ever seen.
“What’s their decision?” Jake braced himself for the news. The way this day was going, it couldn’t be good.
“The chief and I feel you’re not ready to sit at a desk handling administrative issues. We feel you and the citizens of Wilkesbury will be happier and better served with you on the streets with Louie,” McGuire said.
With his stomach sinking to his knees, he asked, “Did the board review any other items on their agenda?”
McGuire stared him down for a second before he stuck out his hand. “Congratulations, Lieutenant! You’ve earned it, Jake. This division is yours, if you still want it.”
“I do.” He’d been apprehensive when he took the exam. If he passed he wasn’t guaranteed homicide. The brass would put him where they felt he was needed. This was a gift.
“You’re a credit to this department and the city. The ceremony will take place at the mayor’s office on the twenty-fifth at noon. Congratulations again.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m sure we’ll go out for a couple of beers to celebrate. Join us?”
“I’d love to. Instead I’ll be sitting in a hot, sweaty room, waiting for my child to dance, applauding like I’m at a Broadway show. Boys are much easier to raise than girls. Think of me when you lift your glass. I’ve never had a better officer on my team than you, Jake.”
Those recitals could take hours. Louie once guilted him into one of Marisa’s, and as her godfather, he’d had no choice but to say yes. Every year after that he made damn sure he had plans. He washed the horrific memory of it out of his head.
Ignoring Louie’s finger tapping when he returned to his desk, Jake picked up the Wagner file and started to read.
“Okay, what gives? What did the captain want this time?”
“That’s Lieutenant to you, Detective.”
Louie jumped up. He pulled Jake into his arms for a hug instead of giving him a handshake. “Well this calls for a real celebration. Hey, Burke, Sergeant Carrington is now your Lieutenant. He’s the head cheese of homicide. Hot damn!”
Louie threw a couple air punches. Jake hoped Louie’s test results were positive this time around. It killed Louie when he’d failed the sergeant’s test not once but twice. But maybe the third time around was the charm. He wondered why Louie’s face didn’t split in half with such a wide grin on it.
Cops swarmed Jake’s desk from all divisions.
Louie tapped him on the shoulder. “Captain wants to see you again.”
Jake broke away from the crowd. “Yeah, Cap?”
“The title comes with an office. Pick one out as soon as possible.”
McGuire came around his desk with his briefcase in his hand. He patted Jake on the back, then turned off his office light and left.
How would this promotion affect the dynamics between him and Louie?
What a day. First the news about Spaulding and now he’d been promoted. He couldn’t figure out if he wanted to celebrate or punch someone out.
“This is great, because you’re already coming to dinner. Oh, but weren’t we going to review your files?”
“They can wait until tomorrow night, Louie. We cancel the celebration now, Burke would stone us.”
“Okay, we celebrate and then have dinner with Sophia and the kids. I’ll call her now. Have her make a great dessert.” Louie’s face gleamed.
“Thanks, Louie.”
That night, when he got home, he’d try to get through the files on his own. The words his father had spoken to him on the day of his promotion to detective echoed in his head.
“With command comes great responsibility, son. Treat your officers the way you’d want to be treated.” Then Captain James Carrington pinned the new gold shield onto Jake’s dress uniform. Pride shone in his father’s eyes as he saluted him. Days later his father died of a heart attack.
Jake felt his father had died of a broken heart.
With his father gone, Jake had one close relative this side of the ocean, his mother. The rest resided in Ireland, where his parents were from. She hated his job. He thought better of sharing his news with her.
Though unrelated, his mom felt his sister’s death had resulted from her husband’s job. Not logical. A spoiled kid had ruined their lives. Eva had turned him down. He had taken what he’d wanted anyway, punishing her for rejecting him.
Thoughts of his mother surged into his head and brought on the familiar guilt. Jake promised himself he’d visit her this week. Cripes, he hated walking into the nursing home. The odors assaulted his olfactory senses. He always held his breath until he reached his mother’s room. The crying and begging from the residents as they reached out to him when he walked by tore at his heart. He tried not to rush by them. He hoped to God he never wound up there. In his opinion, a bullet to the head would be better.
His beautiful mother had brownish-red hair, cream-colored flawless skin, high cheekbones, and sad emerald eyes. She had forgotten how to live after Eva died. He got his height from his father, but his coloring from his mother. At five-six Maddie packed quite a punch when her temper flared. It wasn’t something you wanted to be on the receiving end of. Now trapped in the past, his mother lay in bed all day, crying, telling stories about her Eva through her tears. Jake wondered why she hadn’t run out of them.
We lost two people on the day Eva died. My mother blamed me. She blamed my father. She blamed the police, the school—and anyone else who popped into her head. . . Something snapped in her brain on the day Eva died. He didn’t understand if she couldn’t or wouldn’t move forward. A tight family unit, once happy—never the same after that day, he thought. We all loved each other, and were looking forward to the bright future ahead of us. Yes, I’ll visit her tomorrow.
Louie touched his arm, brought him back to the present. “Hey, you in there? Let’s head out now.” Louie grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. “Oh, boss…”
“Funny, Louie. What?”
“First round’s on me. I want everyone to know I’m playing up to the new boss. Got it?”
“Oh, Louie—rounds two, plus three and four, are also on you,” Jake said shrugging into his jacket.
Maybe he’d take tonight off before he immersed himself in Eva’s file. God, he’d need to get a boatload of courage before he ran through it all.
Chapter 2
Four hours later, he and Louie walked in Louie’s front door, smashed to the gills, their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders as they laughed like loons. Sophia, Louie’s beautiful wife, was not amused and told them in no uncertain terms. Jake tried to focus.
“Where have the two of you been?” she asked, flipping her long curly brown hair over her shoulder as she approached Louie with a wooden spoon in her hand. “You stink! What have you been drinking? Why have you been drinking?”
“Does she always talk in riddles?” Jake tilted his head down to focus on Sophia. Her brown eyes hadn’t an ounce of tolerance in them.
“I never noticed. I can’t get past the beauty,” Louie slurred. “Isn’t she voluptuous?”
Jake pleaded the fifth.
“Louie, I’m counting to three—I want answers. This is disgraceful. The children can’t see you like this. And you, Jake, you should be ashamed of yourself, getting him drunk.” She hit him on the arm. “You know he can’t hold his liquor.”
“Ouch! It wasn’t me, he got me drunk. We went for a drink or two to celebrate with the other guys. We tried to leave an hour ago, but they wouldn’t let us. Well, one drink led to another, and now we’re here.”
“Lucky me, here you are. Give me your keys, Jake. Who drove you home?”
Concentrate your anger on Louie. This is why I’m not married.
“I love you. You’re sexy when you’re mad,” Louie
said, losing his balance as he leaned in for a kiss.
Jake laughed and grabbed Louie, almost over balancing them both when Sophia rolled her eyes and pushed Louie away. At five-four Sophia’s temper could pack a punch. “Jake, who drove the both of you home?” she asked again, guiding them into the kitchen. The table was set for two.
“I need your pasta, Sophia, before I can answer. I’m sure it was one of the uniforms.” He scratched his head and swayed.
“Good. Sit down.”
She dished out penne topped with sauce and cheese onto a plate with the wooden spoon in her hand.
“Sophia, go easy on him, please.”
“Mind your own business and eat, Jake. You’re staying here tonight.”
“Won’t Louie get upset? When did I start turning you on?” He put his hands up to avoid her slap.
“You idiot! You’re on the couch, Louie’s in the bed. Or maybe I should make him sleep on the couch with you.”
Louie lifted his head from the table. “I’m home. When’s dinner?” he asked, dropping his head down and banging it on the table.
Tomorrow he’ll have quite the bump, Jake thought.
“Help me get him upstairs. He’s gone.”
“Sophia, we don’t do this often.”
“You’re missing the point, Jake. I’m not used to the two of you like this. Drinking on empty stomachs wasn’t smart. How could you be so stupid? And be quiet, the kids are doing their homework in their rooms. I don’t want them to see him, or you, in this condition.”
Louie wrapped his arm around Sophia’s waist as they headed upstairs. “I love you, more than anything.”
He’s getting sloppy, Jake thought.
“Yes, Louie, I know.”
“Want to make love?”
“You’re a piece of work. Yes, but not tonight. You’re going to bed, to sleep, walk.”
“You sure? I’m excellent in the sack and you’re—”
She cut him off with a hand over his mouth.
Jake couldn’t help himself. He started laughing and almost lost his balance again. His head spun as he tried to straighten up.
“What are you laughing at? Be quiet.” She punched his arm. “Idiots.”
Jake kept his mouth shut. After helping to put Louie to bed, he went to the study, pulled the drapes shut and lay down. Once on the couch, he passed out without another thought.
* * * *
At dawn, gray shadows swirled around the room from the one curtain Jake had forgotten to pull closed last night. Disoriented, he rolled over in search of his watch and found it on his wrist. He tried to sit up, but crashed back down, covering his eyes as millions of tiny lights exploded in his head. Damn, his whole body ached from sleeping on the lumpy couch. He tried one more time to sit up without his head exploding—then jumped when two sets of brown eyes greeted him. Where the hell was he?
“How come you’re here, Uncle Jake?” Marisa asked.
Muscles tightened then relaxed as his eyes searched the room and landed on the familiar. I’m at Louie’s. Christ, my head hurts. It was a blessing the drapes were drawn on most of the windows, otherwise he’d go blind. As it was, the little bit of light filtering through them could kill a man.
“I had a late night with your father. Instead of going home, I slept here.”
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with you and Daddy drinking, would it?” she asked, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.
Why couldn’t they leave him alone? The kids had left the door to the den open when they’d intruded on his sleep. He heard Sophia banging dishes around in the kitchen. Jake wondered if she banged them on purpose. With each clash, his head felt as though a snare drum was vibrating through his skull.
“I heard you guys come in last night. You were funny. But Mom didn’t think so,” she continued. “She’s still kind of pissed off.”
“Come on, Marisa. Leave him alone. Uncle Jake looks sick,” Carmen said.
“Thanks, Carmen. I could use another hour. Why aren’t you guys in school?”
Marisa answered. “Because it’s six o’clock in the morning and school doesn’t start for another two hours. We always come down for breakfast at this time.” As with any thirteen-year-old, she changed the subject to herself. “Uncle Jake, you’re coming to my birthday party, right?”
“When have I ever missed one?” He realized there’d be no more sleep here today.
“You missed the year that guy cut up all those college girls, remember?” Marisa looked at him.
“Marisa, work comes first. I’ll be at your party, as long as work doesn’t interfere. You’re a cop’s kid, you should understand that.”
“Yeah, but I don’t have to like it. My friend Gigi has a crush on you.”
“She’s twelve, isn’t she?”
“Uh-uh, but for some reason, even though you’re old, she likes you.”
“See what kind of birthday gift I get you.”
The minute he shook his head the room flipped upside down. What a mistake that was. He needed to move them along. “I’ve got to get going. Why don’t you guys go into the kitchen? Get breakfast or whatever you do at six o’clock in the morning, I need to get up.”
“Carmen, go to the kitchen, I want to talk to Uncle Jake,” Marisa said, ignoring Carmen’s protests. “Go now, Carmen, or I’ll hurt you.”
“Oh, all right, but I’m stronger than you are and you don’t scare me. And I don’t fight women,” Carmen said before leaving the room.
“You should be nicer to him, Marisa. Someday he’s going to be much bigger than you.”
“I need to talk to you alone, Uncle Jake. You have to talk to my parents about me going to this party on Friday. It’s an important party. Anyone who counts is going to be there. They’ll listen to you. Please?” she said, her eyes pleading with him.
“Marisa, your father told me about the party. I agree with them on this. You’re asking for trouble with no adult supervision. Plus, I’m not at the top of your mother’s good list right now.” He rubbed his aching forehead.
“So, your answer is no? I thought you loved me,” she whined.
“I do, but I’m not talking to them about this. Maybe I should tell this kid’s parents he’s planning on having a wild party while they’re away.” He studied her.
“You can’t, Uncle Jake. Promise me you won’t. I wouldn’t be able to show my face in school ever again. Please promise?” Marisa begged.
“I’ll think about it, now scram.”
Sophia walked into the room as Marisa rushed out.
“Aren’t you the mean one first thing in the morning? How do you feel today?”
“Crowded.”
* * * *
After turning down Sophia’s offer of breakfast, Jake drove home to shower and changed before heading to the station. At the threshold of the bullpen, Jake looked around. No one was in any shape to work except the captain. He walked to his desk and started right in on the murder book for Shanna Wagner’s case.
“Hey, Lieutenant, you left early last night,” Burke shouted from across the room.
“Yep, I left for a special dinner engagement. Sophia served homemade pasta and sauce with fresh baked bread. Who could pass up such a succulent dinner?” Burke looked ill. “She also served homemade tiramisu. The best I’ve ever tasted, talk about pure nirvana. I had two helpings,” he lied.
“God, don’t talk food right now, it could get messy. Got any antacids?” Burke asked.
“Amateurs,” Jake said, his head pounding like a bass guitar, as he immersed himself in the Wagner file.
The evidence was the evidence was the evidence. He had read this file on and off for the last few weeks. Nothing popped out saying, “Hey, you missed me.” But there had to be something they’d missed along the way, some important fact. Yesterday his
attention was divided in all directions. Today he’d concentrate on Shanna’s murder. Not trusting his emotions or the similarities to Eva’s case, Jake decided to start over with no distractions. He had fun last night, but he should have stayed home and worked Eva’s file. He’d never forgive himself if Spaulding went free.
Each crime needed new eyes and no preconceived notions. He put everyone back on the suspect list, even the ones he and Louie had cleared. He picked up the crime scene photos and laid them out on his desk. Every insult, every trauma Shanna received was graphically displayed. Kids had discovered her body in the woods at the end of a cul-de-sac of a new housing development. None of the houses had been occupied at the time. The naked body had landed face up. Her clothes never turned up, nor did the item the killer had used to strangle her. The M.E. concluded the deep ligature marks around Shanna’s neck was the cause of death. She’d been sexually assaulted—severe bruising in and around the genitals. Doctor Lang estimated the rape had been committed with a long, hard stick due to the severity of the bruising. No semen was found in or around the body. The killer must’ve used protection, if he did penetrate her. Rolled, not placed, Jake remembered. She’d been in the field about four days according to the M.E. There were no fibers under her nails. He figured the scratches on the torso and the face were caused when she was rolled down the short embankment. Trace didn’t find any skin or hair other than the victim’s. No fibers were found near the body. No jewelry left on the victim, a fact that had always bothered him. The killer had tried to make it look as if a robbery had gone bad. The perp had left Shanna with nothing.
He wrote down new questions. Was it a crime of passion or jealousy or a robbery gone bad? Why take the jewelry? Was it an afterthought? Did he try to conceal her identity? Why, to delay identification, to humiliate, or both? One killer or two? He and Louie always assumed one. Why not dump her further into the field to make it more difficult to find her? Was the killer not strong enough to carry her far? On his list of things to recheck first he listed pawn shops. He’d redistribute the pictures of the missing jewelry. Maybe by some miracle of God some of it had showed up and a careless clerk didn’t report it. Did the killer take the emerald ring and other items as a souvenir or for their value?