Saturday Late Night
Kane was staying with Michael and Brian at St. Catherine’s for the night. Not because there was another threat, but because he wanted to make sure they were okay after the events of the last week. He’d been hit in the arm, a through and through, and paramedics on scene had bandaged him up.
Sean had sat with Jesse long after his son fell to sleep. This could have been so much worse than it was. And they would have some fallout next week. Brad was taking the brunt of the blame for not following protocol, but one thing in law enforcement that Brad could use to his advantage was that in the end, justice was served. They got bad guys off the streets, they saved the life of a young boy, and they confiscated more than one hundred illegal guns. Brad was confident he would be able to track down the Hermanos meth lab with the information obtained from the phones of the five gangbangers in the house, and that would be another win for keeping dangerous drugs off the streets.
In the end, the people Sean loved were safe, and he could rest easier.
Lucy came home after midnight—nearly one Sunday morning. She was exhausted and they went right to bed, but neither could sleep. Sean told her everything that happened, and she told him what was going on with her case. “We arrested Garrett King, but he didn’t kill anyone.”
“Then why did you arrest him?”
“Drunk and disorderly—that’s the story. To build a case. A case that we cannot build. I’m going to do something tomorrow that Jerry will be angry with, but I don’t know how else to get him to see the truth.”
“Which is?”
“I talked to the vet tonight. We can take the dog tomorrow or Monday and I’m going to bring the dog—named Justice, ironically—to the jail and see how he reacts to Garrett.”
“Smart.”
“Jerry isn’t going to like it. I think he’s coming around, after our interviews today.”
She was tense, and Sean pushed back her hair as they lay in the dark. “What else?”
“I can’t stop thinking about the case.”
“That’s not unusual.”
“What’s driving me crazy is that on paper Garrett King is the best suspect possible. He has a motive—however weak—to kill all four of those men. Standish because his father hired him over Garrett to build a deck. James because he convinced his father to cut Garrett off, make him live on his own. Garcia because he fired him—except he didn’t fire him. His assistant fired Garrett, and Garcia had been helping Garrett find another job. So why would he kill him?”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Sean said. He turned on the lamp next to the bed. They wouldn’t be sleeping much anyway. “Garcia didn’t fire him, so why is that a motive?”
“Garcia was the boss. In charge of the kitchen. But his assistant—and we confirmed this with management—is the one who handles employees, including termination. And Garrett knows this because he was fired. So there’s no real motive—except on the surface.”
“Except that most people would think that if you’re fired, your boss is the one responsible.”
“But Garrett knows he’s not responsible.”
“I’m not talking about Garrett. I’m talking about anyone who didn’t work at the hotel. Anyone who doesn’t understand the structure of the individual work environment would logically assume that Garcia fired Garrett. Because Garcia hired him, and was his boss.”
“Okay. And? Garrett has a good reason for wanting his father dead—he cut him off. There’s not a lot of money involved, but Garrett had been living there, rent-free, and Victor King had a good job and retirement. We’re getting a copy of Victor’s will, but I think if Garrett splits the estate with his sister, they sell the house, et cetera—I’d guestimate that after taxes and expenses he’ll clear a quarter million.”
“That’s a lot to kill for.”
“But I don’t see him hurting his dog.” She sighed. “Who would frame him?”
“Wow, high jump.”
“You said it yourself—it’s logical to think that Julio Garcia fired him, and that’s why Garrett killed him. But following that logic, Garrett would have killed Mitchell Duncan, the assistant, who rode him hard and actually did fire him.”
“So we’re looking for someone who would know about Garrett’s problems with these people.”
“His father would have, but he’s dead. Maybe the neighbors, who seem to know everything about the family.”
“Friends? Drinking buddies?”
“Garrett has a lot of drinking buddies. I suspect he’s an alcoholic, or borderline. Spends a lot of time in bars.”
“Could he be working with someone?”
“I thought of that … but if I were a cold, calculating killer I wouldn’t trust a drunk. A drunk might talk, let something slip, turn me in for a reduced sentence.”
“How did you learn about these connections?”
“Standish and James from Victor King’s appointment calendar. Garcia from the neighbors who said that Victor had told them that Garrett had been fired again, and then through a search of Garrett’s apartment we learned he’d worked at Sun Tower. We confirmed it when we showed Garrett the picture of Garcia. He flat out admitted it. And we know that the termination happened at the end of June—right before Victor met with James about retirement planning, and a few weeks before he hired Standish to rebuild his deck—which Standish completed before taking the job in Houston.”
“Maybe it was someone connected to Victor who could learn all these details. Maybe Victor was the ultimate target, and Garrett is the scapegoat.”
“So far, Victor King led a simple, happy life. He taught history in high school. Widowed three years ago. Has friends, has family.”
She leaned back. “I feel like we’re never going to solve these murders.”
Sean turned off the light and kissed her. “Sleep. It’ll come to you. It always does.”
On Sunday they relaxed at the house all morning. Lucy desperately needed the day off to unwind, but she had to confirm her theory.
“When are you going to be home?” Sean asked after they had a leisurely brunch. “I thought you had the whole day off. You haven’t had a day off in forever.”
“Two hours, tops. I talked to the vet and Jerry and we want to try something.”
“You convinced Jerry to let the dog be a witness?”
“Something like that,” Lucy said.
“The younger boys are staying at Padre’s camp for a couple more days—they’re having fun now that they know Brian and Michael are safe. But Father Mateo wants us to come over for dinner. Kane told him what happened, and I don’t really know how he’s taking it. But we’ll make it right.”
“I know you will, and I’ll be back long before dinner, I promise.”
She showered and dressed in casual clothes, then drove to the vet. They were closed on Sunday, but the vet met her there and agreed to follow her to the jail, then take the dog back with him. The dog was cleared to be released, but there was no one to take him so they were boarding him.
Jerry met Lucy at the jail. He didn’t look happy, but he had agreed to this plan. He absently scratched Justice behind the ears, and the dog wagged his tail frantically. “Let’s do this fast, Jeanie is already grumpy because I haven’t been home much these last ten days.”
“Jeanie and Sean both,” Lucy said.
“This might not even work. This dog doesn’t look like he’d hold a grudge.”
“If King hurt him, he’ll react.”
“No court is going to accept this as testimony.”
“We have the vet here observing.” The vet was behind the one-way glass. Jerry and Lucy were waiting with the dog for a deputy to bring Garrett King in from holding. “We have to know if we should even be looking for another suspect. Because I keep going back to the fact that Garcia didn’t fire Garrett King, so there is no real motive for his murder.”
Jerry didn’t comment.
A deputy knocked and opened the door. Garrett King walked in, his hands cuffed in front of him. As soon as Justice saw his owner, he pulled at the chain, his tail wagging, limping as far as he could get.
Garrett walked right over to the dog and got down on his knees. He had tears in his eyes when he said, “Hey, Justice, I missed you.”
The dog whined and jumped on Garrett, knocking him down, and licking him frantically all over his face and neck.
Jerry caught Lucy’s eye and sighed.
“Back at square one,” he grumbled.
“No, we’re not,” she said.