Chapter 19

Jake handed Louie the printout. “Look at the list.”

“How’d she know?”

“Good question. We’ll ask her tomorrow. I’m going to take your car, you take mine. I’ll stake out Chloe’s place tonight.”

“Not alone, you won’t,” Louie said.

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“That’s a stupid answer, one I’m sure you don’t accept from your kids,” Jake said, mocking Louie.

“I’m not leaving you. This is a touchy situation, Jake. CYA is important here. Shit, there goes my celebration.” Louie frowned.

“I know how to ‘cover my ass.’” He saw the look Louie gave him and added, “We’ll compromise. I’ll talk with Officer Jones’s supervisor. If he agrees, I’ll have her ride along with me. I liked her style tonight. Is that acceptable? This way you can get home to the celebration Sophia’s planned for you, Sergeant.”

“Yes, it’s acceptable, Lieutenant. I’ll walk with you down to the squad room, and say my hellos to Sergeant Kline.”

“Don’t trust me?”

“You’ve been known to go off on your own. And I stress, this is not the time,” Louie said with emphasis.

“Let’s go, Dad,” Jake joked.

Officer Jones’s sergeant cleared her for the ride-along.

“Take off, Louie. I’m all set. And I’ll pick you up at nine tomorrow.”

Jones got in the car with Jake and sat at attention. Her uniform had been pressed. Her hat was at the correct angle, and her shoes had been polished to a high sheen. Her mahogany skin showcased black eyes and her dark hair was worn in a regulation bun under her hat. At five-eleven, Jones carried her hundred fifty pounds in a well-toned body.

“Tara, you can take your hat off in the car. I know it gets hot with them on. It’s going to be a long night.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said. She never made a move to remove it.

“Please, call me Jake while we’re on a stakeout. Do you wish to be addressed by your rank or by your first name?”

“Tara’s good, sir.”

“Do you want coffee?” he asked, pulling to the curb at the donut shop.

“Thanks, I take it black.”

“Okay, any special kind of donuts you like?”

“I can’t afford to eat donuts, sir. A minute in the mouth is years on my hips.”

“You don’t look like you need to worry,” Jake said.

“That’s because I don’t eat them.” When she smiled, it lit up her whole face.

“You want a bagel or something?”

“No, I’m good. The coffee’s enough.”

“Okay, but I’ll guarantee you’ll be sorry in a couple of hours.” He got out of the car.

“Sir, I’ll get the coffees.” She jumped from the car.

“It’s Jake. And Tara, I get my own coffee and a lady’s. My mother raised me to be a gentleman.”

He saw the look of confusion on her face and figured her partner made her get the coffee all the time. It was hard for a woman on the force. Add to the fact she was a black woman, she fought harder for the respect she’d earned. The old prejudices never died here. Jake knew some of the other cops still thought women and minorities didn’t belong on the job. He wondered how they passed the personality tests for the academy. Jake never took advantage of rookies or uniforms. He gave respect where it was earned, no matter what the rank or color.

He returned to the car.

“Here you go. One large cup of black coffee for you, and for me I got a cup of coffee and a whole bag of donuts.” He laughed, opening the bag, sniffing its contents.

* * * *

They pulled across the street from the Wagners’ house. Jake was happy to see the skies had cleared. In the driveway, Chloe’s red car and Joe’s gold one were parked next to each other. He pointed to the right corner of the house.

“The one with the light on is Chloe’s room.”

“Are we going to stay out here all night?” Tara asked.

“No. It’s nine-fifteen now, I figure we’ll watch until ten-thirty. You go off shift at eleven, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tara, it’s okay to call me Jake while we’re on the stakeout. Do you have a problem with me?” Something behind her formal manner bothered him. What had he done to earn her scorn?

Jake studied her as she processed the information, “Is it my past relationship with the suspect that’s bothering you?”

“Sir, it’s not my place to question you. You have rank over me and can make my life a living hell,” she said, an edge to her voice.

“Is someone making your life harder than it should be, Officer Jones?” He switched to her rank, addressing her formally as she addressed him.

“Politics, sir.”

“Ah, politics—I hate politics. Tara…” He switched to her first name again. “I don’t explain myself on a regular basis to a subordinate but I will tonight because the situation’s unusual.” He stopped to gather his thoughts. Tired of telling his story, he wondered if the questions would ever end. Cops were the worst gossips. He wasn’t going to give Officer Jones the full story. Rank did have some privileges.

“Tara, I had—note the past tense—a brief personal relationship with Chloe Wagner, which could cloud the issues in this case. Since the relationship has ended, she’s been harassing me. In recent weeks, she started to stalk me. I filed a formal complaint against her this week. If you’d like to check, I’ll give you the file number. I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable working with me. I heard you were professional, discreet, and looking for a place in homicide. I’ll return you to the station, no hard feelings,” Jake said, annoyed.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant. As I said, it’s not my place to question you. The way the suspect spoke to you seemed odd. It’s also unusual to release a murder suspect.”

“It’s an unusual case. Several things didn’t add up from the beginning. Today we recovered an emerald the victim always wore. Tonight, for the first time, her sexual orientation came to light. Whoever planted the ring in the room made the first actual mistake in the case. Also, after reviewing all the previous interviews, Sergeant Romanelli and I discovered discrepancies in her best friend’s statements.”

“They didn’t show up in the beginning?” Tara asked.

“No, sometimes, you can bang your head against a wall, then one day Lady Luck comes into play and the case takes on momentum. It seems to have happened with this one. We had scheduled interviews for tomorrow with Shanna’s best friend and the man she dated prior to her death. Every case has to be treated uniquely. They don’t always go by the book. The book’s there as a guideline, not as an absolute—one needs to use common sense. The officer who survives is the one who sticks to the book, and yet can be flexible enough to get results. Do you understand?” Jake turned his head to look directly at her.

“I’ve been on the job now for three years. I know it doesn’t always go by the book. You have to admit, it’s one for the records.”

“Yep, I’ll admit it.”

“So, why are we watching her?” Tara asked.

“To see if she goes anywhere tonight. If she did kill her sister, she didn’t do it alone.”

“Why do you say ‘if’?”

“Because with this new evidence, it doesn’t make sense she killed her. Overkill’s the word to best describe this crime. Each bruise, each assault on her body, showed the killer’s anger with the victim. He or she beat her to a pulp. Love and hate aren’t that far apart for some. With no current or serious lovers in the picture, we went in the wrong direction. It’s part of the reason we couldn’t figure it out. She had no serious relationships, or so we were told. Now we find there were two. Tomorrow or Monday, we’ll verify what Chloe told us tonight. Search for the other women she dated at school. Of course, we still can’t rule out her sister. The ring’s worth over fifty thousand dollars—a real motive for murder.”

“Fifty thousand dollars? For a ring?” Tara’s brown eyes opened wide in shock.

“Yes. I’ve learned emeralds are worth more than diamonds. This ring has both, increasing its value.”

“I’d love to see a picture of a fifty-thousand-dollar ring,” Tara said.

Jake reached into the back seat and pulled his briefcase up front. He skimmed through it until he found the folder he was looking for—he took the picture of the ring out and handed it to her.

“My God, the emerald’s huge. It’s beautiful.” Tara let out a low whistle.

“Yes, it is. It’s insured for its full value, but you still don’t want to lose an heirloom.”

“I wouldn’t want to lose it, no matter what the circumstances.”

They called it a night at ten-thirty. Chloe never left the house. The light in her room went out at ten-fifteen. They circled the block a couple of times to make sure she wasn’t on her way out. He dropped Officer Jones at the station at ten forty-five.

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“Good night, Tara. It’s been nice working with you.”

“Same here, sir,” she said, getting out of the car.