| |
As Stacy made her way down the Homicide Division’s back hallway at headquarters, the emblazoned gold letters of Homicide Division, arched in Arial font, stared back at her.
She often looked at the signage to help her stay grounded and focused—a reminder of her job and purpose. When she glanced at it now, a wave of anxiety hit her.
Two small sections of cubicles housing working detectives bracketed the room where Miguel Olivo would be questioned. Another female detective stood up and caught sight of Stacy and waved. Stacy waved back but kept walking. She didn’t have time for small talk.
The interrogation room at the end of the back hallway was tasteful in a corporate way. Witnesses feel relaxed in that room, which often meant they were more talkative and less nervous and defensive.
Stacy struggled to concentrate on the next task in the investigation. She was sure that Brandon was bluffing about the postcard, but how did he know about them at all? Brandon claimed that Chance sent him a postcard with just his signature, but he’d conveniently lost the card. Brandon was a desperate man that had nothing to lose by playing a dangerous game of chicken. Stacy hated referring to herself as desperate, but Brandon smelled it on her and pounced like a predator after a wounded animal.
Before coming upstairs, she went to the other side of the building to speak with Nate Fryson about the card Melinda provided and asked him to examine it for fingerprints and other evidence. Nate bristled at first, indicating he’d promised rushed examinations of evidence of other cases. Still, Stacy had managed to convince him that her situation was more critical and that it wouldn’t take very long.
As she entered the interrogation room, Gavin leaned against the wall. There was no back wall to the interview room, only tempered glass. Gavin caught notice of her arrival and furrowed his brow before turning back to the scene unfolding. Diana stood in her typical navy blue pantsuit with her hair down below her shoulders. Her makeup was slightly faded and the crinkles in her eyes more defined. Stacy knew that meant it had been a long day for the captain.
Through the glass, Stacy watched as Miguel Olivo fidgeted in his chair. He was fat and slovenly, and Stacy wondered when he last showered or changed his clothes, which consisted of an unzipped yellow windbreaker jacket that revealed a stained white T-shirt underneath that appeared to be a size too small. Olivo brushed his thin, greasy hair back, revealing a red forehead, and then released a long breath.
“Look, that’s all I know,” he said, looking up with pleading eyes at Austin, who circled the room like a hawk. The dark tie that adorned his red, rumpled shirt and tan pants had already been loosened. Austin was hitting his stride.
Olivo pointed at the picture on the table of Colton DeVito, which was the same one shown to the media during the press conference. “I picked up the DeVito kid and took him to West 31st Place Street.”
“And Mr. DeVito seemed nervous?”
Olivo nodded. “He seemed nervous and tired. He fell asleep in the back seat. I swear, he didn’t tell me anything.”
Austin circled the table again and then sat down. He grinned, rested his hands on the square, faded faux wood table, and nodded. “But you did see something?”
“Yes, yes, I did.”
Austin looked up and over Olivo and stared at the glass for a moment. “Tell it to me one more time.”
Miguel began rocking back and forth in his seat. “A-am I going to get arrested? Please, I can’t,” he said, and the double-stack chins under his short neck jiggled. "I can't lose my job. I've got a family...."
Austin held up a hand. “As I said earlier, Mr. Olivo, you are free to leave at any time.” His voice was calm and soothing. “But what’s been said so far is going to help us in our investigation. I just want to make sure I have all of the details correct.”
Miguel Olivo looked down at the table and shook his head. Austin chinned at the window again.
From the hallway, Stacy knew that was the signal her partner gave when he wanted her to pay attention.
“When I drove by one of the entrances to the park, I saw two men come out just as we drove by.” His eyes brightened. “It-it was dark. I was focused on the road. They looked to be two guys. Sort of thin but with some muscles. They looked up and down the street like they were looking for someone.”
“Could you identify the men if you saw them again?”
Olivo shook his head. “I just saw their shadows. That’s it. But I swear that DeVito kid seemed to slide down in the seat behind me like he didn’t want those guys to see him.”
“Well...” Austin thought for a moment and sat back in the chair. “One last question. When Mr. DeVito got dropped off at Ms. Crawford’s house, that was the last time you saw Mr. DeVito?”
Olivo looked up, and his brow dripped sweat, and his lips quivered. “Yes, that’s it. He tossed some cash at me and then bolted out of the back. I waited just a few seconds. I always do that when I drop off a customer, just to be sure they’re okay.” He gave a nervous smile and then patted his bulging stomach. “I mean, I am a gentleman. I don’t want anything too bad to happen to my customers.”
Austin didn’t flinch. From the hallway, Stacy shook her head.
“That’s the last time I saw him,” Olivo said.
Austin slowly stood up. “We’re going to verify the routes taken by your car after you dropped off Mr. DeVito.” The sergeant flashed a grin. “Just to make sure we have all of the details correct.”
“Uh. Okay.”
Austin cupped a hand on Olivo’s shoulder. “Just wait here a second.”
He wiped his hand on the leg of his pants as he exited the interview room. Once in the hallway, Austin scanned it and made brief eye contact with Stacy before looking over at Diana.
“I’m sorry I was late,” Stacy blurted out. “I had an errand—”
Austin cut her off. “What do you think, Cap?”
Diana gripped a pencil tight in one hand and chewed her lip. “Seems legit. I think he’s telling the truth. I don’t know why he would make up that story.”
Gavin turned to look at Olivo in the interview room, slouched over the table, and quietly mumbled to himself. Gavin had managed to change into a gray suit with a lavender shirt and tie and black dress shoes after leaving Stacy’s loft.
“Any chance at all he’s mistaken?” Gavin asked. “These cabbies haul around a lot of people. We need to make sure that he’s not confusing Colton with some other drunk or some other college kid he picked up that night.”
Diana looked over at Stacy. “Check his route that night. See if his car has GPS tracking. Let’s make sure he didn’t go back to the park or back to Brooke Crawford’s house that night.”
“Good idea,” Stacy said, trying to feel like a part of the team.
“No chance he’s coming in here to try to be a hero or a celebrity?”
Austin looked at Gavin with contempt. “No, Counselor, I don’t think so. Olivo doesn’t seem like a guy that wants any attention. He came in after seeing Monica and George DeVito on the news.”
Diana tapped a pencil eraser in her hand. “See if there is any paperwork kept, either digitally or the old-fashioned way, concerning who paid for rides that night. See what names pop up.”
Gavin rested his hands on both hips. “Is Olivo clean?”
“I ran his name,” Austin said, indicating that Olivo’s name had been put through the department’s criminal databases. “He has a couple of DUIs from when he worked in Cincinnati, but, otherwise, he’s clean.”
“He has two DUIs and still has a license and is allowed to drive a cab?” Stacy scoffed. Her comment was ignored.
“Okay. Nice work.” Diana pushed in between Gavin and Austin and then looked at Stacy. “Where are we with the surveillance of this person at the Wells Fargo ATM?”
Stacy looked at Austin for an update, but his face was expressionless as he spoke. “Still ongoing, but we’re on it.”
The captain nodded. “Good. Speed it up. And keep me apprised of what’s going on. Since the fire at the DeVito house, the chief is in no mood for rogue detective work on this case.”
Diana turned on her heel and walked away. The air in the room felt so brittle it could snap. The silence in the room grew. Austin remained stoic while Gavin’s eyes darted between him and Stacy.
“I’m sorry I was late. My mother showed up at my apartment for an unannounced visit, and I needed to handle that.” Stacy arched an eyebrow at her partner. “We need to get a signed statement from Mr. Olivo.”
Austin looked at Stacy and held a long look. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Let me,” Stacy interjected. “I was late. I’ll handle it.”
Austin huffed and looked at his partner and Gavin. “Don’t trouble yourselves.”
When Austin turned his back, Stacy rested a hand softly on Gavin’s arm. “I need to speak to Diana for a moment. We can talk later.”
Gavin gave a quick nod. “Fine.”
Stacy charged out of the room, causing a rush of air to move behind her. She slowed her walk, turned on a heel, and then went back down the hallway. She wanted to ask Gavin something else about Olivo and his connection to the case.
When she got to the entryway leading into the interrogation room, she saw both Gavin and Austin had turned around.
“Sergeant,” Gavin called out just as Austin’s hand gripped the doorknob. “Got a second?”
Austin froze. “Just one.”
“Turn around.”
Austin slowly pivoted around until he faced Gavin. Austin pursed his lips, and the muscles in his dark face tightened.
“What is it, Counselor?”
Gavin sucked in a breath, collecting his resolve. “I want to know what’s going on.”
Austin blinked. “Nothing. Just doing my job.”
Stacy stepped back, hoping neither man had seen her. The tone of the conversation had grown terse, and the tension in the room was heavy.
“I mean between us,” Gavin said, waving a finger in between the space that separated them. “The last two times we’ve been together, I get nothing but cold stares and the cold shoulder. What’s up?”
Austin squared his shoulders and just stared at Gavin.
Gavin huffed, flaring his nostrils. “If you’ve got something to say, sergeant, just say it.”
Austin bore a serious stare into the assistant prosecutor and then ran his tongue over his lips.
“Stay away from Stacy. Stop chasing after her.”
Gavin feigned innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Shut up!” Austin barked. The tone and volume of his words made Gavin flinch. “Stop going to her apartment and stop trying to be her boyfriend. It’s unprofessional.”
Gavin cracked a sly smile. “Jealous, Austin?”
Stacy lowered her head. She fought every instinct to burst into the room and reprimand both of them, but she pressed her lips firmly and held her tongue.
The sergeant leaned in so close that Gavin could have smelled his aftershave. “Stacy can lose her job for being with you in that way. I’m her partner. It’s my job to look out for her well-being. And I am. So stay away from her. This is the last time I’m going to say it.”
Before Gavin could say anything else, Austin flung open the door to the interview room. Stacy slowly and quietly backpedaled down the hallway, out of Gavin’s sight.
***
Stacy maneuvered her way around the hallway again, managing to avoid any contact or interaction with other working detectives. At the end of the hall, she saw that Diana’s office door was slightly ajar.
Thinking about what had transpired upset her. Not only had she never seen Austin speak to an assistant prosecutor with anger and frustration, but Gavin’s callous and arrogant retort was unacceptable. Austin had nothing to be jealous about because she and Gavin were colleagues, nothing more. Nothing serioushad transpired between them, and nothing would.
As she peeked into the office, looking for the captain, a slight voice with a southern drawl called out from behind her. “Lieutenant Tavitt?”
Startled, Stacy jerked up and let out a slight yelp. She turned around to find a dark-skinned and meaty man with small, dark eyes and a trim goatee staring at her.
Stacy smiled and patted him on the arm. “Officer Kendall Jackson.”
He smiled, flashing a block of white teeth. “How you doin’, Lieutenant?” Kendall leaned in for a hug, and Stacy didn’t hesitate to embrace him.
After Stacy and Austin had been targeted by a car full of suspects at Cole’s convenience store during the Devon Baker murder investigation, Captain Bannister had assigned Kendall Jackson to guard and protect Stacy. She had received threatening pictures in the mail and attempts made on her life. At first, Stacy dismissed the idea and kept very quiet around Kendall. He proved to be an asset to Stacy, not only for protection but also in the investigation of the murder, which forced him to make some ethical compromises that weren’t always easy. Stacy had grown to like and respect Kendall.
Stacy felt like her head rested perfectly against his barrel-chested physique. “It’s Corporal Jackson now,” he said, completing the hug with his hand over her back.
Stacy released the hug and stepped back regarding him. “Congratulations,” she said through a smile. “I can’t think of anyone more deserving.”
His face flushed red. “Thanks, Lieutenant. I got the promotion thanks to you. That letter you wrote to Chief Martin recommending me for a promotion is something I’ll never forget.”
Now Stacy felt her face burn red. “It was my pleasure. It’s the least I could do after all of the good work on the Devon Baker case. And saving my ass more than once.”
He looked at the floor with a sheepish smile. “That’s the most fun I’ve ever had as a cop.”
Stacy noticed the deep purple lines etched into the fleshy folds of skin under Kendall’s eyes. They looked dark and fresh.
“Be sure and take care of yourself,” Stacy added.
Kendall blinked. “Yeah. I’ve been picking up some extra shifts for the money.”
Stacy grinned. “Well, just don’t let the work get in the way of the family.” Stacy let the comment hang in the air a moment. She felt like a hypocrite for reciting it because she had never been good at adhering to it herself.
They both shared a laugh, and Kendall pulled something out of his back pocket. He was clad in the traditional black Cleveland Police Department uniform, and his new corporal police shield glistened under the white light overhead.
“I’m going to be a dad. Jerica and I are having a boy in July.” He held out an ultrasound picture of the baby in the womb.
Stacy felt her mouth go slack as she smiled broadly. “Kendall, that’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you and your wife.”
He nodded and smiled like a little kid who had just won a prize at the county fair. “Thanks, Lieutenant. We’re real excited.”
“I bet.” Stacy paused for a moment. “I don’t see you around the precinct much anymore.”
“I’m working over in the Fifth District now.” The news made Stacy feel sorry for Kendall. That Fifth District was in East Cleveland, and it was notorious for gang and drug violence, not to mention homicides.
Kendall read Stacy’s reaction and cut in. “But it’s all good. I like it. I’m working with Detective Banks on a homicide over there.”
Stacy nodded. “He’s a good detective. One of the best.” She was relieved her friend was getting to work with someone tough and smart like Peter Banks.
“He is.”
Stacy looked back at the partially open door. “I’m looking for Captain Bannister.”
“Oh, she went to the bathroom. I dropped off some paperwork to her. She said she’d be right back.”
Stacy felt relieved. It would give her a moment to collect her thoughts before she tried to explain the postcards and what they meant while avoiding mentioning what Brandon Deerfield had told her at the jail.
Stacy smirked. “I’ll wait.”
Kendall leaned in to give Stacy another hug. “Good seeing you, Lieutenant. Take care.”
Stacy returned the embrace. “Same to you, Kendall.”
He smiled and walked away. Stacy felt another tingle and twitch in her lungs. This sensation was minor, but she wanted to sit down to do her breathing exercises.
She decided to push open the door to Diana’s office. It was small, cold, and cluttered. Although Diana had gotten a new desk with steel legs and a more rounded surface, it was still littered with papers and a host of Post-it Notes stuck to the phone and the computer monitor. The messy space gave Stacy anxiety.
As she walked over to the desk to sit in the chair angled near a corner, something caught her eye. A red file folder stuck out under a stack of papers and yellow legal pads. Stacy looked away for a moment but found herself drawn to it again. Red folders in the department were used for two reasons: disciplinary infractions or notifications of retirement.
Although Stacy had been disciplined by Diana before for bending the rules, she’d never had a red folder created on her by Diana or Internal Affairs.
Stacy sat down and began breathing deeply, then followed it by short, more pronounced breaths. When she looked down at the folder again, she made out her name, written in black marker on the top.
Stacy stopped her breathing exercises and put her hand over her mouth. To the left of her name on the tab was a Post-it Note adhered to the front of the envelope with the word retirement with a question mark. The word was circled in blue ink.
She leaned closer. The words resembled Captain Bannister’s handwriting.