Chapter Twenty-three
Memories of walking to the principal’s office flooded Darnell’s mind as he knocked on the captain’s door. For as long as he could remember, even when he tried to do the right thing, he’d manage to stir up trouble. Up until now the captain had been Darnell’s greatest ally, since he’d approved his transfer from L.A. But Darnell’s “in your face” style of investigation might have finally pushed his superior officer over the edge.
“Come in.” Captain Ransom’s voice boomed through the door.
Darnell took a deep breath and opened the door.
“Sit down, Jackson.” The captain rustled through some paperwork on his desk.
Darnell sat and then rubbed his hands together. He started tapping his foot but grabbed his knee to still his leg.
“So, did you get what you needed from Mitch Harris’s wife?”
Darnell cleared his throat. “Well, I found out where the photos came from.” Hopefully, that little piece of information would help ease the reprimand coming his way.
“Really? So, she knew about her husband’s affair?”
“She admitted to hiring the photographer.”
“And this same guy delivered the photos to your reporter friend? By the way, that Serena Manchester better not step foot into this station anymore. I would hope I don’t have to remind you her news story resulted in a suspect walking away a few months back.”
“No, you don’t, sir.” His colleagues already despised him for obtaining the coveted detective position. They couldn’t help but rub in his mistake whenever the chance arose. After a few dates with Serena, he’d managed to reveal a critical piece of information one night, during a casual conversation. He should have known better. A reporter was always looking for a story.
The captain continued. “I’m glad she saw fit to bring you the photos, but nothing better leave this department to jeopardize this case.”
“Yes, sir.”
Captain Ransom sat back in his chair and stared at him. The walls in the small office appeared to be closing in on Darnell. He rubbed his hand across his head and waited. The captain heaved a deep sigh. “So, what’s your take, since you decided to stir up trouble? Just how did you end up at the Harris home?”
“I’ve got something else to show you.” Darnell walked over to the VCR on the shelf across from the captain’s desk. He pulled out the tape he acquired from the art gallery, slipped it in, and pressed PLAY. On the screen, he observed again how Yvonne confronted Pamela. Pamela’s face clearly looked surprised, then confused.
“Whoa,” the captain commented. “Did she just reach out and slap her? Where were all the other people in this place?”
Darnell stopped the video. “Yeah, I thought that, too. There are a lot of corners and secluded areas in the gallery. This particular area was in the back, away from the main event in the lobby area. Nobody heard a thing. Most of the folks in attendance say Mitch and Yvonne were seen mingling with the crowd until the event ended around midnight.”
“Didn’t Candace mention she used her phone that night?”
“Yes. I have the area mapped out where her signal was picked up. Pamela remained in the downtown area, near the gallery, for some time before heading home. It is quite possible either Mitch or Yvonne left the gallery. Still, it wouldn’t have been easy to follow her home, kill her, and then return to the downtown area.”
The captain put his hands behind his head. “We need to track down the places she might have visited and determine if she met up with anyone. There’s a possibility we could find who the last person was that talked to Pamela before her death.”
Darnell agreed. “That’s where we are now.”
“Well, get to it.”
Darnell rose from the chair. “Yes, sir.” He turned to head toward the door.
“Jackson.” The captain leaned forward, his chair squealing.
He should have known he wouldn’t get off the hook that easily. Darnell looked back at his boss. “Yes?”
The captain glared at him. “You are on thin ice here. Mitch Harris is threatening to bring harassment charges against you.”
“What I—”
“Save it. I know he’s blowing hot air. He’s a lawyer, for crying out loud. I’d advise you not to be questioning any high-profile people unless you have your facts straight. Understood?”
Darnell didn’t answer.
Not missing a beat, the captain added, “If you can’t follow orders, you can push papers, or better yet, I will make sure you take some time off. Without pay.”
This case was looking bleaker and bleaker by the minute.
As he neared his desk, Darnell could hear his phone ringing. Just as he picked up the receiver, the caller hung up. Whatever. If it was important, they’d call back.
Some facts were gelling for him.
He sat down and pulled out the envelope Serena had delivered to him earlier that morning. So much had happened since viewing the photos, but nothing really tangible. He spread the photos across his desk to study them. Someone had sent these to the reporter. Why? Was someone pointing a finger at Mitch? Was the real killer trying to set up Mitch? The man had a rock-solid alibi.
He picked up one photo. The photographer was by no means an amateur. He or she knew how to handle a camera. The images were sharp. Very professional.
Darnell let a word slip from his lips, one he hadn’t used in sometime. Forgive me, Lord, but, boy, did I screw up. He should’ve pushed Yvonne Harris to tell him who she paid to take those photos.
Maybe he could convince the captain to let him confer with the DA. No doubt, he would need a subpoena to talk to Mrs. Harris again.