Officer Jones

Chapter 35

The evidence was clear. On the anniversary of the death of his soul mate, Noah Warner went to the darkest of places. Faced with nothing but lonely years ahead, he made a pilgrimage to the place where the accident took place, just as he had the year before. But this time he didn’t back down, and threw himself over the bridge, onto the rocks below.

Over the years, with the success or failure of a story hanging precariously in the balance, and sometimes life and death, I’d learned about trusting instincts and hunches. And in this instance, every bone in my body screamed out that Noah did not commit suicide.

The living don’t kill themselves. People that are already dead do. The ones who are just matter taking up space, with their breaths being nothing but window dressing. Our conversation from the fair replayed in my mind. I didn’t have a doubt-Noah was one of the living. Now I had to figure out a way to prove it.

Chief Tolland, along with his sidekick Bobby Maloney came to my parents’ house late last night to deliver the grim news. Gwen and I showed up a few minutes later to witness my father unsuccessfully trying to console my mother. At the break of dawn, Ethan and Pam arrived. It was the day everyone had feared for two years, and now it was the reality we would have to live with for the rest of our lives.

I sneaked away to my quarters and went immediately to my laptop. I had access to numerous files through my lengthy list of connections and could get information on almost any person on the planet. But even with this access, I still didn’t learn a lot about Kyle Jones.

He had lived the life of the typical military child. Born in Germany, but spent time in San Diego, North Carolina, and Lake Cumberland, Kentucky before he was in middle school. The military background made it more understandable as to why he’d described the incident in military time, which I had found odd at the time.

Jones followed his parents’ footsteps into the Air Force, a career that culminated with him piloting a jet fighter in the Gulf War. Other than the combat service, his military career was bland but honorable. He left in the mid-1990s-his last stop was Luke Air Force Base in Arizona.

Following his military service, he joined the police force in Gilbert, Arizona. His next stop was the Outer Banks of North Carolina, where his only job of note was giving flying lessons to the locals. Then he must have rediscovered his love for wearing a uniform, because he accepted a job of police officer in Rockfield, Connecticut, where he had a stellar record … except for the fact that he might have killed my brother.

If my instincts were correct, and Jones was responsible for Noah’s death, the next question was why. The obvious connection was that Noah was responsible for Lisa Spargo’s death, and he had grown close to the family. I recalled the angry words he had for me about Noah and the accident. But I needed more than that. I knew how this looked-I was a distraught family member who wasn’t thinking straight, and when you throw in the Gwen factor, it would also look like I was motivated by jealousy.

My lack of sleep had me running on fumes and I was struggling to concentrate. But anytime I began to nod off, my thoughts always returned to the moment where I held Noah’s lifeless head in my hands.

A mid-morning phone call to his old boss, Gilbert Police Chief Steve Dahl, didn’t provide any significant clues. According to Dahl, Jones was a model police officer who was still missed in Gilbert all these years later. “If I had me fifteen officers like Kyle Jones I’d be on to something,” he exulted.

When I questioned as to why Jones left, Dahl recalled the conversation where Jones told him of his desire for a new start. He’d just broke up with his girlfriend and always grew restless being in one place for too long. Dahl speculated that it was the Air Force in him.

“Do you know why he chose North Carolina?” I asked.

“I really don’t know, but he always complained about the brutal summers in Arizona, and mentioned he hoped to go someplace where the seasons change. He always talked about his love for the water, so it makes sense that he headed for the beach.”

Dahl mentioned that he’d “lost touch” with Jones after his move, but they’d reconnected briefly when he was thinking about returning to police work. They traded a few emails, Jones asking if he could use him as a reference, and he gave Jones a glowing review to Chief Tolland. He hadn’t spoken to him since his return to Rockfield, but Jones had sent him a ‘thank you’ note for the reference, and they exchanged Christmas cards each year since.

My explanation for the call was that I was doing an article for the Rockfield Gazette on Jones having received the Lisa Spargo Memorial Award. Dahl wasn’t surprised that Jones would win an award, but when I pressed him about Jones’ devotion to drinking and driving, he couldn’t recall any such compelling interest when Jones was in Arizona. But added, “Kyle was always trying to help the community, so maybe he was affected by a specific case.”

Not only was I not getting anywhere, but was actually making a case that Gwen would be better off with Jones. The guy was a Boy Scout.

My questions soon turned more personal in nature and Dahl became suspicious. When I asked how I could reach the ex-girlfriend whom he’d broken up with prior to his move from Arizona, I crossed the line. Dahl began to answer, giving her first name as Lucy, but then his police instincts took over. He stopped in mid-sentence without providing a last name.

When I pushed, he turned testy. “Why are you so interested in his love life?”

I stumbled through an obvious lie. My lack of sleep dulled my usually sharp answers. Dahl demanded a number of my superior at the paper. I gave him Murray’s name, but couldn’t remember his phone number, which made me seem even more suspect. The next sound I heard was the click of the phone.

At that point, I tried to get some much-needed sleep, but my dreams kept reliving my last conversation with Noah.

I gotta take off JP, but we will definitely hook up at Ethan’s on Monday.

Hot date?

No, I’m just going to meet an old friend. We haven’t talked in a while.

I woke up in a cold sweat, realizing that I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I got justice for my brother.

I always believed when panning for information, the true golden nuggets came from “Joe Local.” So that’s where I decided to start. The police department would have their own spin on Jones, and Gwen was obviously fooled by him. I paused in thought; still unable to believe Gwen could be with this guy. I doubted I could accept anybody she dated, but this one really didn’t add up.

Then a sad truth hit me. One that I had been aware of since our encounter at the fair, but I didn’t want to admit it-Gwen Delaney wasn’t the person I once knew.