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Stacy pressed the stop button on the recorder. She waited for the room to empty before speaking. “Now she won’t have to worry about someone coming after her.”
Diana put a hand on Stacy’s shoulder. “Nice work, Detective.”
Stacy pursed her lips. “I’m just glad we have her in custody, although we still don’t know where Colton DeVito is.”
“We’re getting closer,” the captain replied. “I’ll go talk to your mom.”
Stacy locked her hands behind her head and let the tension from the last moments escape. “Thanks, Diana.”
Stacy made her way back to her desk. Someone was hunched over it, rustling through papers. Stacy smiled as she leaned into the cubicle wall and crossed her arms.
“Turn around with both hands up.”
The figure rose and lifted both arms. “Guilty as charged.”
Stacy recognized the smooth but firm voice. “Let me see that eye, Austin.”
He turned around and raised both eyebrows. He had a dark leather patch over one eye connected to a slender, black leather strap that went around his head. He was wearing his clothes from earlier. They were dry and wrinkled, and the suit coat was missing.
Stacy leaned into him and hugged him. She didn’t say anything, but she pulled him close as he wrapped his arms around her.
“I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Austin patted her at the base of her neck and then lowered his hands. “I’ll be fine. I’m a little sore, and the fragments that ricocheted from that wooden post scratched the cornea of my eye. It hurts like hell, but the doctor said I should be okay in a couple of days.”
Stacy stepped back and rubbed a finger over the patch. “At least the patch is stylish.”
Austin frowned. “Hell of a way to get one, though. The worst news is that I’m going to need glasses.”
Stacy looked away and smirked. It was just like Austin to redirect a conversation when it involved him personally.
She eyed him while maintaining the smirk. “I think glasses will look good on you.”
“Yeah.” He scoffed. “We’ll see. I’ve been looking through the information here. It involves Colton DeVito’s friends, the ones that beat up and killed Jesse Williams. Why?”
Before answering the question, Stacy told Austin to sit down at his desk. She took a few moments to explain what had happened at her loft with Kendall Jackson and the sudden appearance and arrest of Maria Fernandez.
Austin puckered his thick lips and let out a long whistle. “I go to the hospital for a few hours, and all hell breaks loose. Is your mom okay?”
Stacy leaned back in her seat and removed the rubber band from her hair. Pieces of hair were tangled in the band itself, pinching her head as she pulled. Her hair unfolded and fell loosely past her jaw.
“She is, but she’s a little shaken up.”
Austin drummed his fingers on her desk. “And Kendall Jackson. Jesus, Stacy, he’s at the center of a big problem for this department.”
Stacy rolled her shoulders. She was also a part of the problem but in a different way.
“I know. I want to go by the hospital and talk to the doctors and find out when he’s going to wake up from that coma.”
Austin blinked. “Or if he wakes up from the coma.”
Stacy seemed dismissive of that idea. “I want the names, dates, and places where he pedaled the drugs and who got protection as a result. If we can get that information on the record, he’ll go to prison for a long time, and hopefully, so will everyone else involved.”
Austin scratched the stubble on his chin and looked down at the papers on the desk.
“What’s up with trying to find out where the guys from the DeVito trial are now?”
Stacy picked up some of the papers and started thumbing through them. “It’s just a feeling. Those guys in his group that killed Jesse Williams had plenty of reason to get even with Colton. When the charges against him were dismissed, and he was released from prison, I’m sure that didn’t sit well with the rest of them.”
Austin adjusted his eye patch strap. “Provided that they wanted to get even or even knew where Colton was living and working.”
He’d brought up a good point. Stacy had testified at many parole hearings. The victim’s friends and family members always promised the perpetrator that they’d show up to everything and do whatever it took to ensure the killer’s life would be ruinous. In a few cases, most people who make that statement in court show up to the hearings. But in many cases, just a few of the victim’s close relatives show up. Life has a way of changing priorities and prerogatives. Despite a brutal crime like murder, people have jobs to work, children to raise, and communities to serve. When time creates distance between the murder and the present and the raw emotions begin to heal, and seeing justice served loses its importance.
Stacy blinked out of the thought and saw Austin taking notes. “I’ll take notes on the important information and create a grid.”
“Good.” Stacy reached down into her desk drawer and pulled out the sealed evidence bag with the postcard Chance supposedly sent. Stacy regarded the note Nate Fryson had left about the card for a moment.
“I highlighted some sections of the trial transcript.” She pushed the stack across the small crack of space that separated their desks. “It makes for some interesting reading. I’m interested in Brian Dowdy.”
Austin stopped writing and looked up. “Why him?”
"Dowdy turned himself into the police, but he wouldn’t implicate anyone else involved in the death of Jesse Williams.” Stacy shook her head. “I just wonder why. We’ve sat in on plenty of group arrests, and when one person has a chance to save themselves at the expense of their buddies...."
“They sing like canaries,” Austin added. “Okay,” he said, taking in a breath and turning a page. “I’ll work on this for a while.”
Stacy turned her head to the side. “Don’t work too long tonight. If Diana comes back up here, she’s going to wonder why you aren’t home getting some rest.”
Austin waved a hand. “Sleep is overrated.” He gave Stacy a wink. It had been a long time since he’d done that. For Stacy, it meant the tension between them was over, and their relationship was back to normal.
“I need to take my mother home, as well.” Stacy’s phone thrummed on the desk. As she picked it up and swiped her finger across the glass face, Marty began speaking immediately and with urgency.
“Lieutenant, it’s Marty,” he said, his words tumbling out. “I’m sorry to bother you so late, but I just got a call from Lutheran Hospital. They got my number by mistake, I think.”
Stacy felt her stomach clench. She remained calm. “It’s okay, Marty. Just calm down and tell me what’s wrong.”
Marty pulled in a breath and then continued his rapid-fire delivery. “It’s the charge nurse at the hospital. There’s been an incident outside of Kendall Jackson’s room.”