Chasing The Dead

Chapter Fourteen

Grace Canfield knocked on the open door to Alex’s office. “You wanted to see me?”

“We’ve got a new case for a guy named Jared Bell. He’s charged with forcible rape and first-degree murder and his initial appearance is Friday morning at nine,” she said, holding up Jared’s file.

“And you’ve already got the file? How many times has that happened?”

“Zero, but we can’t say that anymore. Make a copy for yourself and bring it back to me. Then start digging. I want to know everything there is to know about him-family, friends, priors-whatever you can find. He was in the service, so we’ll need those records too. And I’d like to have as much as you can pull together before court.”

“Why the rush? Nothing ever happens at the initial hearing except for the judge setting bail our clients can never post.”

“You’re right, but there’s something about this guy that’s off and I need to figure out what it is.”

“All of our clients are off one way or the other or they wouldn’t be our clients,” Grace said.

Alex raised a hand, telling Grace to stop. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get that. But when I was talking to Jared. .”

“Wait a minute. You’ve already talked to him? At the jail?”

“Yes. Already. At the jail.”

“He’s that high profile?”

“No. Near as I can tell, he doesn’t even have a profile. He’s a homeless vet who confessed to murder but not rape who says he’s never getting out because he’s been heading to jail for a long time. Calvin, my buddy at the jail, says he wakes up in the middle of the night screaming to someone named Ali that he’s sorry. We don’t have an ID on the victim yet, so look for anyone by that name because we’re gonna need that if we’re gonna have a shot at putting this on someone else.”

Grace cocked her head, a glint of worry in her narrowed eyes. “Girl, you got that look I haven’t seen in a while.”

“What look is that?”

“It’s your I-Am-Sasha-Fierce-and-I’m-gonna-save-the-world-one-poor-soul-at-a-time look.”

Alex smiled. “Something wrong with that?”

“Just one thing. That look works for Beyoncé when she’s onstage shaking her booty, but, girl, you lost that look for a reason,” Grace said, leaving with the file.

Grace was right. She’d lost that look because she’d lost hope that she could make a difference. Even on the rare occasions when she won, all she did was send her clients back to the same lousy world that had raised them to be criminals and where that was the only job skill they had. She’d learned to live with that, convincing herself that she was defending the Constitution as much as any client, making certain that their rights were protected regardless of their guilt or innocence.

But her ideals had been no match for Dwayne Reed. They hadn’t been strong enough to protect the people he killed or to stop her from killing him. If Grace had seen that look in her today, maybe she could feel that hope again and turn Jared Bell from someone’s fall guy into her salvation, if she could find a way around Judge West.

Five minutes later, Meg Adler rapped on her door.

“I ran into a couple of people in the lobby that need to talk to you.”

Alex looked up from her desk. “I didn’t get a call from the receptionist.”

“I told her that wouldn’t be necessary.”

Alex furrowed her brow, staring at Meg. “Why?”

Charlie Wheeler stepped from behind Meg and into Alex’s office. “Because I asked her not to. I’m Detective Wheeler,” he said, showing her his badge.

“And,” Meg said, “I believe you know Detective Rossi. I’ll leave you to your business.”

Rossi followed Wheeler, the two detectives fronting Alex’s desk, looking down at her. Alex tensed, angry that Meg had let them ambush her, depriving her of a chance to figure out why they wanted to talk with her and how she would handle them. That Meg was new and they didn’t know each other was no excuse. Protect your people was the first rule for any boss, and Meg had served her up, letting them catch her wide-eyed and openmouthed. If it had just been Wheeler, she might have given Meg a pass. But nobody got a pass when it came to Rossi.

Rossi led off. “Sorry for barging in.”

“No, you’re not,” Alex said. “It’s what you do. The question is why?”

“We need to talk to you.”

“I gathered that. What happened? Did you lose your phones? Forget how to make an appointment? Or were you just in the neighborhood and decided to drop by?”

Wheeler started to sit in one of the two chairs in front of Alex’s desk but she cut him off.

“Don’t bother. Whatever you want, you won’t be here long enough to sit.”

“Why the hostility?” Rossi asked.

“I’m busy. Next time I show up at your work uninvited you’ll understand.”

Rossi shrugged. “I spend my day getting interrupted. No reason to come out swinging.”

Alex leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. “Fine. What do you want?”

Rossi looked at Wheeler. “It’s your case, Mr. Mayor.”

“I’m in the traffic investigation unit,” Wheeler said. “I’m investigating Robin Norris’s accident.”

Alex clenched her jaw, Wheeler’s statement breathing life into the unformed dread she’d felt since learning that Robin was dead. There could be only one reason Wheeler and Rossi were in her office. Robin’s accident wasn’t an accident. If they had information, she wanted to hear it.

“I’m sorry,” she said, motioning them to sit. “It’s been a shitty day.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Wheeler said.

“Thanks. What makes you think Robin’s case is a homicide?”

“What makes you ask that?”

“Because if it was an accident, he wouldn’t be here,” Alex said, pointing to Rossi. “So what’s going on?”

Wheeler deflected her question. “When was the last time you saw Ms. Norris?”

Alex turned her head to the side, thinking for a moment. “I’m not sure. I probably saw her in the office yesterday or the day before.”

“When was the last time you spoke with her?”

“Like I said, yesterday or the day before.”

“What did you talk about?”

“Just hi and how are you, in the hall, that sort of thing.”

“Nothing more substantive, maybe something about one of your cases or something going on outside the office?”

“No. Robin was always under the gun. She didn’t have a lot of time for chitchat and there was nothing going on in any of my cases that we needed to discuss.”

“What’s your cell phone number?”

Alex frowned. “My cell phone number? Why do you ask?”

“Please, Ms. Stone, your number?”

“Don’t worry,” Rossi said, “he’s not going to call and ask you out.”

“Maybe you should give him yours. He might ask you, and the change would do you good,” Alex said.

Wheeler coughed into his fist, unable to hide his smirk. “Your number, Ms. Stone.”

“Fine, if it will get this over with faster. It’s 816-555-1331. Now it’s your turn. Why do you need my number?”

“We recovered Ms. Norris’s cell phone at the scene. Her last call was to you.”

Alex grimaced. “Really? If you knew that, why did you ask for my number?”

“Just confirming that we had the right one.”

“Well, I didn’t get a call or a message from Robin.”

“Do you have your phone?” Rossi said.

Alex didn’t like that she was the only one answering questions, though she knew that was a standard cop interrogation technique. Although she had nothing to hide, she couldn’t stop her pulse from racing as she retrieved her phone from her pants pocket.

“Right here,” she said, holding it up.

“Can I have a look at it?” Rossi said.

“After I do.” Alex unlocked the phone, her mouth dropping open when she saw that she had a message. “That’s weird. I’ve got a message, but I don’t remember getting a call.” She clicked through to the voice message screen. “The caller ID says it was from Robin.”

“Put the phone on speaker and play the message,” Rossi said.

Alex hesitated, hating that she had to share the message with anyone, especially Rossi. Robin had intended the message for her, not them. What could be more intimate, more private, than a friend’s last words?

“Play it, Counselor,” Rossi said.

She nodded, realizing she didn’t have a choice, tapping the touch screen, taking a quick breath when she heard Robin’s voice.

“Alex! I’ve got to talk to you! Oh, my God!”

The message ended with a garbled mix of Robin’s scream and the crunch of collapsing steel.

The three of them sat in silence, staring at Alex’s phone, each of them hard-bitten enough to think they’d heard it all only to find out in that moment how wrong they were.

“We’re going to need your phone,” Rossi said, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle. Alex nodded and turned away, clutching her middle. “You can get a new phone with the same number.”

“What about saving Robin’s message? Won’t I lose it when I change phones?”

“I’ve been down this road before,” Rossi said. “Your voice mail is saved on your carrier’s server. Do you have any idea what she needed to talk to you about?”

Alex shook her head. Robin rarely called her after hours, respecting her employees’ needs for a private life. So the call had to have been some kind of emergency, and the only one she could think of was Jared Bell’s case. And that wasn’t something she wanted to discuss with Rossi. “None.”

“The accident happened north of the river, way west on Barry Road. Can you think of any reason she was in that area?” Rossi asked.

Alex was glad for a question she could answer with a clear conscience. “No idea.”

“What time was the call?” Wheeler asked.

Alex examined her phone. “Last night. Ten fifteen.”

“Where were you when the call came in?”

Alex straightened, feeling a little less vulnerable for the moment. “At a bar. I’d turned my phone off. That’s why I didn’t hear it ring.”

Wheeler took Alex’s cell phone and dropped it into an evidence bag.

“Were you with anyone? Can anyone vouch for you?”

Alex nodded. “Yeah. Him,” she said, pointing at Rossi. “Your partner and I were having a beer.”