Intentions (Carpenter/Harding Book 6) Page 6

* * * *

  They found Jeffrey Bishop at football practice, and under the curious eyes of his coach and team mates, he followed them outside of the field.

  “Man, this is not a good time,” he said. “Everyone here is on edge as it is. Sucks that Colin is dead, but I told you I knew next to nothing about him.”

  “So you guys never talked about Jonathan Darby?”

  “The serial killer? No. Why would we?”

  “That’s funny. Because you told your friends online he would bring you details about Darby’s crimes. Did he, or did you just make that up?”

  Bishop looked around himself as if to make sure no one was listening to their conversation.

  “Look, that group, what people do there, it’s not illegal. We’re just talking about things. No one has ever met anyone who killed someone. This is considered philosophical discourse. Hypothetical, you know?”

  “Then why didn’t you tell us the first time we met you?” Derek asked.

  Bishop shrugged. “Why would I? The person who killed Colin, that was about drugs, right? He got involved with the wrong people in the wrong neighborhood, and got himself killed. The folks from that group are harmless. At least that’s what he told me.”

  “So you did talk about it after all?”

  “Not really. I saw it on his laptop once, and he told me about it. I don’t know anyone in that group in person.”

  “Yet you told them Colin could provide details?”

  “Look.” Bishop threw up his hands in surrender. “I thought it was fascinating, okay? I thought he was just a nerd, but then he was hanging out with these people, and getting the job with the lawyer who represented Darby. I mean, how close can you normally get?”

  “Yeah, I see. A real opportunity.” Jordan caught Derek’s look at her, and she shook her head. Bishop really seemed to be the clueless one. Colin Buck…deep waters and all.

  “What about those details? Did you ever go back to discuss them with the group?”

  There was a knowing look on Bishop’s face all of a sudden. So he understood that they were still missing parts of the conversation.

  “Again, I did nothing illegal. According to Colin, he got to talk to the guy a couple of times, and he asked him. Nearly threw up afterwards too, but the people in the group thought he was cool. No one there would hurt him. You’re looking in the wrong place. By the way, should I talk to a lawyer?”

  “You said it yourself, you haven’t done anything illegal. You also said you didn’t meet with people of the group—did Colin?”

  “If he did, I don’t know about it. I only communicated with them online.”

  “Okay then.”

  “That’s it?” He gave Jordan an incredulous look.

  “Unless you have anything to add…You can go back to practice.”

  They went back to the car, sat for a moment. There was still time before the game at Rigley’s would start.

  “What a mess,” Jordan said. “Unless we find proof that someone in this group wanted to kill someone, he’s off the hook, and so are his disgusting friends. It’s a freaking game to them. They discuss one victim at a time, extra points for details that weren’t in the press. And even more points if you could get directly to the source.”

  “Darby might have told the truth, Donovan might be lying, but none of this helps us solve the case. There’s no need for a quid pro quo.”

  “Not yet. We have to lean harder on Donovan.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. He knows it’s his word against Darby’s. We can’t ask Colin—he might have just bragged to the group about talking to him. Donovan will have a field day picking all those theories apart.”

  “I know, damn it. We can’t prove any of it.” Jordan sighed. “Let’s hope we get at least lucky with Chucky Mulveney. If he knows the neighborhood that well, he might know who Colin met with that night.”

  * * * *

  Rigley’s had two entrances, the main one to the bar, and a backdoor on a lower level leading to a private, fenced in parking lot. They had plainclothes officers inside the building and parked close to both entrances. According to Darla’s information, the poker game took place in the basement, a room from which both the stairs to the parking lot, and the main room was accessible via hallways.

  Jordan and Derek took the door to the bar, spotting the officers immediately, a couple standing by the stairs leading to the lower level, and another one near the entrance. With everyone in their place, they made their way downstairs and along the corridor past the restrooms to a door that said “Private.” There was a small storage room in front of another door, under which a small strip of light could be seen. The other officers were just steps away from the entrance behind it.

  Jordan opened the door to a startled-looking group of people sitting around a table, five men, one woman. “Sorry, folks. We need to chat with Mr. Mulveney, that’s all. And please, don’t try anything funny. The place is surrounded.”

  “What do you want?” Mulveney asked, looking her up and down with a condescending smile. “You got a warrant? My friends and I were enjoying a game. That’s not illegal, is it?”

  “I’d prefer it if you came with us. We could use your expertise…and word is out that since Ryder’s been busted, you’re the man to go to.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Who told you?”

  “It’s not important, but if you can help us, this could be a two-way conversation.”

  “The way I see it, you’re trespassing on private property. I’d like to see that warrant if you have one, otherwise I’d prefer if you leave right—”

  Abruptly, the woman jumped to her feet and ran. Two of the men stared after her slack-jawed. A third one pulled a gun and shot at the ceiling light, plunging the room into darkness.

  * * * *

  It had been another busy day. Ellie was well aware of Casey’s sideways looks, but she couldn’t help it. She liked a tight schedule. She liked not having to obsess about the future, which chances to take, something she’d done for the better part of her life.

  She was a good cop. Her colleagues said so. Her parents would have been so proud of her. She knew Jordan was proud of her. That mattered.

  The call came in less than fifteen minutes before the end of her shift, a massive car accident involving a truck and two other vehicles. She and Casey were only two blocks away, and sirens blaring, they sped towards the scene a moment later.

  The accident had happened at an intersection. An ambulance was already on the scene, two others arriving.

  Casey and Ellie learned that the truck driver had walked away with a few bruises and cuts. The man in one of the other cars was conscious but bleeding from a head wound. Paramedics were able to open the door on his side, and started to tend to him. Ellie’s heart lurched into her throat when she saw the woman in the driver’s seat of the third car, a toddler buckled into car seat in the back, crying. The woman’s airbag had deployed. She didn’t move. One of the windows in the back was cracked, but not completely broken.

  Ellie tried the driver’s door which didn’t budge. The door in the back gave. A broken fingernail or two were a small price to pay. The girl and her mother—Ellie assumed—needed to go to the hospital as soon as possible.

  “Don’t worry, sweetie, we’ll get you out of here in no time.”

  She reached inside to remove the girl’s seatbelt which came off after some resistance. So far so good.

  “What’s your name?” she asked, to no avail. There were no visible injuries. A paramedic had come up behind her, and she carefully picked up the girl and handed her to him.

  “Ellie!”

  She turned to Casey, for a split-second wondering why her friend had gotten pale—the she smelled it too.

  “Damn it, no!”

  “Come on. We have to get out of here.”

  “No way.”

  Ellie tore herself away from Casey’s grip.

  “Ellie, don’t be stupid! This thing is goi
ng to blow! You need to get away from the car now.”

  “I’m not going to let that girl be an orphan,” Ellie muttered to herself as Casey herded everyone on the scene to a safe area.

  Ellie reached inside the car, and with a bit of wiggling, she managed to get the seat all the way down. The woman moaned in pain. There was some blood on her leg, but thank God, she wasn’t stuck. Ellie’s mind was completely blank as to the danger, even as she saw the flame licking at metal. She managed to get the woman out and drag her a few feet before Casey and another paramedic came to her help.

  “Have you lost your freaking—”

  The rest of Casey’s words were lost in a deafening bang.

  Chapter Eight

  Mulveney’s room for negotiation was shrinking rapidly, but their back-up had reacted right away. Flashlights illuminated the room within seconds to reveal that the only damage done was the overhead lamp. There was shattered glass everywhere—and now they had a reason to bring in every one of them. Officer Libby Marshall had caught up with the fleeing woman who had cocaine on her. The man who had shot at the lamp, Ronnie Dexter, had no registration for his weapon.

  All in all, it was shaping up to be a successful evening by the time they were back at the department.

  “The thing is, we can still help you,” Jordan said as she perched on the edge of the table in the interrogation room. “You know your neighborhood, right? The regulars, the ones that are out of place. You’d know if someone didn’t belong—or if someone was trespassing onto your territory.”

  “You are giving me a lot of credit, lady.”

  “Credit where credit is due.” She shrugged. “I’m not looking to trick you. I want to know why a college kid was shot a few feet away from where a neighbor saw you and your boys hang out. We think it’s a deal gone wrong. If there was an amateur involved, maybe they were on your radar too.”

  “It’s a good story,” he said. “I’m just not sure how I can help you. I don’t deal. If the kid was looking for some entertainment, I wouldn’t know to help him.”

  “Unless he wanted to play poker,” she said sarcastically.

  “Oh, don’t mind Ronnie. He has a nervous trigger finger.”

  “What about Alicia Jones? You didn’t provide her with the cocaine?”

  “No, I didn’t. Sorry. Can I call my lawyer now?”

  “You know, much of this could go away if you could give us a few ideas as to whom Mr. Buck might have met with. There’s been a vacuum since Ryder was busted. Somehow I don’t think everyone would be happy just letting you take over.”

  He gave a dramatic sigh. “I’d like to confer with my lawyer first, but I might have something for you.”

  “Might is not good enough.”

  “All right. Let me put it this way. There has been some tourism in the area lately. Alicia says there was a guy asking her all kinds of weird questions, like did she go to the All Colors.” He shook his head, laughing. “As if that’s her kind of scene.”

  Jordan felt the blood drain from her face. At the All Colors, a place where everyone could hook up with anyone, Darby had been stalking some of his victims.

  “We will talk to Alicia, and it will be lucky for both of you if she can make an ID.”

  “Yeah, well, you do that. Can I make that call now?”

  * * * *

  Ellie’s ears were ringing. She stared in shock at the destroyed vehicle, the flames shooting up in the sky where she had been standing minutes ago. The woman was unconscious, but stable in the back of the ambulance that was leaving for the hospital.

  “Officer. Please come with me?” a soft voice insisted, and she followed the paramedic. Casey was right behind them.

  “You saved that woman’s life,” she said. Ellie thought it sounded a tad admonishing, but maybe she was in shock too. “Ellie.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Should I call someone for you? Jordan?”

  “Oh, no, I’m fine.” She might have scraped her knees when they dove for cover. “Don’t call her. I’ll meet her at the station. She’ll just worry for nothing.” She was glad to sit down though. “Now that you’re asking, I think I’m kind of dizzy.”

  “I’m not surprised,” the paramedic said. “Let’s get you checked out first.”

  Casey laid her hand on the small of her back. “I’ll come with you.”

  Ellie closed her eyes for a moment, trying to piece together the past few minutes in her mind. “She’ll be okay? Both the mom and the child?”

  “Yes. You did something very brave…that could have gotten you killed.”

  Ellie winced, unhappy with Casey’s words. She had the feeling that she was going to hear a variation of them more often—but there was no way she could have done anything differently.

  * * * *

  Jordan had just sat down in the room where Derek was interviewing Alicia Jones when Detective Doss knocked on the door.

  “Jordan, do you have a moment?” she asked.

  “Can it wait a minute?”

  “It’s about Ellie,” Doss said. Jordan was on her feet instantly.

  “She’s okay,” Maria Doss added once they were outside a room. “She’ll be waiting for you in the break room when you’re done here.”

  “Okay…What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I don’t know all the details, but they were called to the scene of a car crash. One of the cars caught fire. Ellie got the driver out before it blew, and she’s okay.”

  For a split second, the world tilted, but Jordan held on to the word “okay.” Maria sounded reasonably calm, which was an immeasurable relief.

  “You wouldn’t come here though if there wasn’t any bad news.”

  “It was close,” Maria said. “Everyone was advised not to go near the vehicle. Lyons tried to stop her.”

  “And she would have none of it.” There was nothing more Jordan wanted at this moment than convince herself that Ellie was okay. “Look, I can’t leave here right now, but could you tell her to wait for me?”

  “You don’t want to take a few minutes…?” Maria’s incredulous gaze spoke volumes.

  “It won’t be long.”

  The truth was she couldn’t. If Maria said Ellie was okay, Jordan trusted her, but that didn’t mean her stomach wasn’t in knots. If she went there right now, she might lose it, and that wouldn’t help either of them. If she took a little time to breathe, get those images out of her head, she’d be able to be supportive, tell Ellie how proud she was of her instead of shaking her for disobeying a direct order.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Go already, get her a coffee, okay? I’ll be wrapping things up here.”

  She went back into the room without waiting for an answer.

  “All right, Ms. Jones. I don’t have a lot of time. Mr. Mulveney tells me an acquaintance of yours asked about the All Colors. It would be very helpful for both of us if you could describe him to us.”

  “I’ll try,” Alicia Jones said timidly. “He called himself The Knight. Some sort of gamer, I assumed. He was really good-looking too.”

  * * * *

  By the time Jordan was ready to leave, the unsettling mixture of anxiety and frustration hadn’t worn off much. She blamed most of it on Darby, and the bizarre development that they might be looking for a serial killer fan club whose member names were chess pieces. Then there was the fact that Ellie had saved a woman from a burning car, against everyone’s judgment.

  The woman was alive.

  This was an act for bravery.

  It meant she could have lost Ellie today. That’s where the anxiety came in.

  She went to her desk, turned off her computer and finally headed for the break room.

  “Hey,” she said softly. “I’m sorry, I had to finish this up first.”

  Ellie turned to her, to Jordan’s relief looking unharmed. She held up scraped palms. “I guess you heard. That’s about it, so please, don’t freak out.”

  Jordan walked farther
into the room and sat next to her, resisting the urge to hold her head in her hands. Ellie was probably the one with the legitimate headache.

  “You’re not freaking out, right? I’m fine.”

  “I’m okay. You’re a hero.” Jordan leaned in to kiss her gently. “You hear okay?”

  “Now I do, yes. Wow. It was crazy.”

  “I can imagine. You’re ready to go home?”

  “Yes. You?”

  “Absolutely. We’re going to have an early start tomorrow, so I guess I’m inviting myself over.”

  They had a possible ID on The Knight, the good-looking guy Bishop had described as the one who’d been asking for Buck. There had been no one by that name in the “talks on moral decay” group. Either he didn’t know him, or he had lied to them again. Either way, they were going to find out tomorrow.

  Later that night, when Ellie was asleep in her arms, Jordan almost resented her for her ability to have a break from today’s events—even if it was just the adrenaline high wearing off. Ellie hadn’t volunteered much information besides the obvious, and so in the evening, they had talked about the upcoming house viewing. Jordan didn’t feel much like sharing either, because then they’d have to talk about groups that glorified serial murderers, and one in particular that did so with Darby.

  The silver lining in all this was the house viewing which would hopefully bring them closer to a home of their own soon. She was equally looking forward to the end of the trial which would take a huge weight off of Ariel’s shoulders.

  She was still mad at Ellie for risking her life to save another, her conflicting emotions luring her onto a trip down memory lane…

  The ringing of the phone, what seemed only minutes after she’d fallen asleep, left Jordan disoriented for a moment. Beside her, Bethany was stirring, muttering an expletive. Understandable—Jordan had missed her earlier message that she was going to be home tonight, so she’d spent the evening with friends at the Code 7. They didn’t have much time to talk, which was clearly Jordan’s fault, something that had become eerily familiar.

  “Carpenter,” she said after accepting the call, pushing back the sheets. A call at this time of night meant that sleep was over.