Conviction: Book 3 of the Detective Ryan Series (8 page)

Chapter 14-Ali

It had been a rough week. It was Thursday, not even a full week back on active duty, and I was stretched thin mentally. If anyone knew how I really felt, I would be sidelined instantly. There was only one way to get back on track, and I was damn sure going to ensure my mind was focused on this case.

I pulled up in front of the white house with the long driveway on the side, leading me to the back parking lot. Walking up to the office entrance, I greeted the young secretary I knew to be my therapist’s twenty-one-year-old niece, and signed my name on the patient list.

“Dr. Barron should be down in a few minutes,” the woman said. “You can have a seat in the waiting area. She shouldn’t be long.”

“Thanks, Kerri,” I replied.

It didn’t take long for Dr. Barron to appear in the doorway. Her red horn rimmed glasses stuck out like a sore thumb against her pale complexion and dark hair. “Ali, it’s so nice to see you. Please, follow me to my office.”

We walked down the sloping hall, bypassing the set of stairs that led to her house, and turned into a large room. A long comfortable couch sat near the window surrounded by a variety of chairs. She had everything from folding chairs to cushiony arm chairs to recliners. Dr. Barron always wanted to ensure her patients had choices to keep them happy and comfortable.

I watched her move to the mini-fridge and pull out two bottles of water. “So what brings you here today?” she asked.

“I went back to work this week.”

“Already? Are you sure that is a good idea?”

“I had no choice.”

“There’s always a choice, Ali.”

“Not this time.” I explained briefly the meeting I had with Dr. Cain and her attorney at the beginning of the week and the break-in that happened that night.”

“Ali, I understand that can be a bit overwhelming, but the police can handle a simple break-in. Do you really think it’s wise to throw yourself into an investigation like that?”

“The intruder left a card trying to rattle me. It’s not the first time this person has left me roses and a card. The last time it happened was the night Matthew was shot.” Dr. Barron pursed her lips as she jotted something down in her notepad. “The Lieutenant let me in on the case as long as I worked with a partner we both trusted.”

“And how is that working for you?”

“A lot better than our first investigation.”

“Are you referring to Detective Thornton?”

“Yes.”

“And you are both okay with your current living arrangement while working on this case together?”

“Yes, plus it’s the only way the Lieutenant doesn’t have some random officer sitting outside my front door all night or someone following me all day.”

“You don’t think he trusts you?”

“No, it’s not that. I think he wants to protect me like I’m a kid. It’s almost like he knows something bad is coming and doesn’t know how to handle it.”

“I see. But if he is trying protect you, as you say, then why put you on this type of case in the first place?”

“Because he knows I’m good, and that I would go off investigating on my own without his consent.”

“And how do you feel about working this case?”

“I want to catch the son of a bitch. He or she already killed once since breaking in and leaving those flowers. If Dr. Cain is telling the truth, this person may have had a hand in at least seven other deaths, maybe more.”

“You mentioned earlier the night of the shooting. How are you coping with all of it?”

“I haven’t thought much about it since the break-in.” That concerned me. It felt almost like I was betraying Matthew’s memory by pushing what happened to him aside to hunt down another killer. “I did speak to my former partner this week.”

“The one they arrested for the shooting?” I nodded in reply. “I must say that’s a bit of progress. How did it go?”

“I let him tell me his side of the story. It hasn’t wavered from what he has been saying all along. After recent events, I’m inclined to believe he’s telling the truth.”

“So now that you believe him, what do you plan to do about it?” That was the million-dollar question that had been floating through my head for the last twenty-four hours.

“Hopefully, I can clear his name through this investigation.”

Before I knew it, my session had come to an end. I agreed to continue seeing Dr. Barron once a week for the remainder of the investigation. I turned my phone on and found a text message from James wanting to know where I was.

I called him from the car. “Hello Master, how may I be of service to you?” If it weren’t for me sitting in my car, I would have added a fake curtsy at the end.

“Funny,” he replied. “Where are you?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I just came from my therapist’s office.”

“Everything all right?”

“I’m the epitome of mental health.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“What do you want, James?”

“Coffee; you want to meet up for some?”

“Sure, I’m in Poughkeepsie right now.”

“Perfect, I’m near the Galleria. Let’s meet in the lot above the parking garage in twenty minutes.”

Speeding down Route Nine, I made a quick right near a pet store and followed the path up to the mall. It didn’t take me long to spot James and his Audi sitting in plain sight at the back of the lot.

“Fancy meeting you here,” I joked. “Not a great place for coffee. I figured you would’ve preferred something more intimate.”

“Is that your way of asking me on a date?” James joked.

“You’re the one who asked me for coffee. I’m here, but I don’t see any coffee.”

James stepped away from his car, moving closer to me. “I think maybe a lunch will be more appropriate.”

“And why is that?”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said about the bouquets of flowers you’ve been getting. Did anyone ever check the tape from the night Matthew was shot?”

It was as if he slapped me in the face. How could I not think to check with the lieutenant about checking the video surveillance at the station. Someone walked in and placed the flowers on my desk.

“I-I don’t think so. I can’t remember. Everything happened so fast, and then there was the funeral.”

“Call your lieutenant and have him get you the access to those tapes. I’ll get us some food and drinks for us and meet you there.

The lieutenant was more than happy to procure the footage for us. After spending a few hours combing through the video, trying to find an angle that showed us the name of the florist, the delivery company, or even a clear picture of the man that delivered the flowers. There wasn’t anything we were able to see. The wrapping on the outside and the picture of the man placing the bouquet on my desk were too blurry for us to see.

Neither of us wanted to give up on the potential lead, but I had no idea how to make the images any clearer. Thankfully James did. He called a friend that specialized in computers and digitalizing pictures. After sending him an invite and sneaking him into the station, we allowed him to setup his equipment. It took another hour to get a clear image of the man we needed to question. We were also able to obtain a clear shot of the wrapping on the bouquet.

“I think we got what we need,” James said. “Let me just print out the pictures and we can be on our way.”

We helped his friend slip out unnoticed before showing the pictures to the lieutenant. He seemed happy we found a possible lead. We just hoped it would amount to something.

We took my car out to Poughkeepsie. Driving up Hooker Avenue, we found our destination sitting at the end of a strip of stores. It looked more like a white house with the front end being all glass. Once I saw flowers sitting in the window, I knew we were in the right place.

Walking in, I found a short woman behind the counter. She had strawberry blond hair that fell just below her ears. “How can I help you?” she asked.

We held out our badges. “I’m Detective Ryan, and this is Detective Thornton. We were hoping to ask you a few questions.”

“Okay. What’s this all about?”

“About a month ago, someone delivered a bouquet of roses to the Ulster County Police Station. We believe the person who ordered them has been involved in a series of homicides. We were hoping you could tell us who bought them.”

“We sell flowers all day every day. I would need you to narrow it down drastically. Plus, there are customers that pay in cash all the time.”

“Then, we’ll need to see the video footage from the day in question,” I snapped. I rattled off the day I received the flowers, but the woman refused to budge. “That should narrow it down for you. Now, can you get us the footage.”

I don’t know if it was my attitude or just the request in general. Either way, it didn’t seem like she was receptive to my request.

“I’m sorry, Detectives, but I can’t hand over any of it without a warrant.” This woman was stopping us from gaining an important piece of evidence for the investigation.

“Fine, then give us the name of your delivery driver.”

“Sorry, Detectives. I think you should leave now.”

Her opposition to us sent a raging fire through my body. I couldn’t contain it any longer. “What the fuck do you mean we should be leaving now? You realize you’re impeding an official police investigation. We can lock you up for obstruction of justice.”

I felt an arm slide around my waist. I looked to the side and saw James staring back at me. “Ali, we need to go now.”

“I’m not going anywhere without that video, a name, or that bitch in handcuffs.”

“None of that is going to happen today. Now, come with me before you get yourself thrown off the case.” I refused to move, but James tightened his grip around me and forced me back. “I’m sorry about all this miss,” he said over his shoulder.

“You better not come back without a warrant or I’ll have my lawyer bring harassment charges against you both.”

That was the tipping point for me. All I saw was red, blood red. I wanted to attack the woman, smack her around until she gave me the answers I was looking for. But that wasn’t who I was. I didn’t act like that.

James dragged me outside, closing the shop door behind us. It was the only thing keeping me from going after the woman. “You mind telling me what the hell happened in there?”

“She’s withholding evidence, James. We need to know what she knows. We need to see what’s on that video.”

“I know, Ali. But this was the wrong way to do it. If we as much as show our faces around here, she’s going to bring up a lawsuit against us.”

“So, let’s make the call and get the search warrants we need. Then she can’t fight us or keep anything hidden.”

“Fine, but I’ll handle the search warrant. I think you need to go cool off somewhere for a while.” For once he was right.

Chapter 15-PM

Word of Ali Ryan harassing a florist in Poughkeepsie reached the ears of the Puppet Master. He was impressed she was able to find out which one he used the night he sent a bouquet to her desk. He had used them before, but it was the first time he let someone else deliver the flowers to her. He had given explicit instructions to remove the wrapping, but somewhere in the process the kid screwed up.

Thankfully, he had anticipated this would happen. Although, he believed it would be the delivery guy being caught on camera that would be the giveaway. Since that night, he decided to use a different florist to throw off the police scent. Seeing Ali Ryan snooping around, he realized it was for the best.

There was still a chance the one shop would be a liability, and the Puppet Master hated liabilities. Parking his car across the street, watching the store as the sun set in the distance. The sign on the door flipped from saying open to displaying closed. All the Puppet Master had to do was wait for the woman leave for the night.

An hour later, a short pudgy woman and a younger man exited the flower shop. The Puppet Master knew the boy was the one the police were looking for. He was one of two obstacles that could get in the way of his plans, and he wasn’t about to let either stop him. Knowing he would have to wait a few more hours before striking against his biggest threat, the Puppet Master decided to follow the delivery boy home.

The kid took Route Fifty-Five home which was a long stretch of road with few street lights and even fewer stop lights. It was perfect for following someone. As the night sky settled in, the Puppet Master closed in on the delivery boy, inching closer on the driver’s side. The cars were nearly parallel to each other. The needle on the speedometer read seventy-two, just fast enough to get the desired result.

The Puppet Master moved the steering wheel enough to let his car ride the white dotted line, causing the kid to move more to his right. After turning the wheel a little more, he forced the delivery boy ride partially on the shoulder. The kid slammed his hand on the horn. Maybe he hoped to startle the Puppet Master into swerving back into his own lane, but he merely turned the wheel a little more.

The kid’s car was now driving on shoulder and the grassy area that was surrounded by trees.
Just a little more
, he thought. With one final turn, he forced the delivery boy off the shoulder and into a tree. He didn’t stop or even slow down. The Puppet Master continued speeding away from the accident as if he didn’t see it, as if it never happened.

At the next available break in the road, he turned the car around and sped back to the flower shop. Parking across the street, he waited to make sure the coast was clear. All the lights in the building were off. Even the surrounding stores seemed to be closed for the night. Once he was sure no one was coming back to the store, he pulled the car around back and parked it securely in the rear lot.

Unlike the front of the store that was protected by a large pull-down gate, the back was left unprotected aside from the solid metal door. There was no doubt in his mind Ali Ryan would find a way to get whatever she wanted from the florist by the next day, which left the Puppet Master with no other options. He needed to find a way inside and destroy the evidence.

He quickly moved to the back of his car and retrieved a gas can. There was a little more than a quarter left from the last time he used it.

“Let’s hope this does the trick.” He opened the spout, pouring the contents at the base of the door. There was enough of an opening for some of the gas to spill in, but not nearly enough for what he wanted. “Let’s see what happens now.”

He struck a match and threw it at the puddle at the base of the door. A soaring ball of fire erupted in front of the metal door. There was no way he would know if his plan worked by standing in the back lot. Jumping in his car, he pulled down the block, circled around and drove back onto Hooker Avenue.

Through the slots in the metal gate, he could see the flicker of flames in the back of the store. It would be a matter of time before a fire alarm went off or someone passing by saw the flames. There was nothing more he could do. His only hope relied on the fire he set in the back of the shop and the metal gate would keep the rescuers from putting out the flames.

“Burn, baby,” he whispered. “Burn it all to the ground.”

********************************************************

Ali

James told me to go somewhere to cool off. He never told me where. I decided to blow off some steam by racing my car up and down I-84 for a few hours until I calmed down enough to go home. On the way back to the house, something inside told me to visit the florist one more time. I never expected to be walking into hell.

Flickering orange light illuminated the storefront glass which was guarded by a metal gate.
The bitch set the place on fire
, it was both an accusation and a question.
Was she responsible for the fire? And if she was, who was she covering up for?

Ripping my cell from the center console, I called in the fire, giving explicit details about the address and what the firefighters would encounter upon their arrival. I don’t think they realized they would also be dealing with a crazy detective desperate to get inside the store to retrieve video tapes.

Bolting from my car, I pulled on the gate, hoping whoever locked up forgot to lock it or didn’t pull it shut all the way. When that didn’t work, I ran back to the car in search of a crowbar. Placing the flat side against the pavement, I tried to pry open the gate. It was no use. I wasn’t strong enough to break it from the lock.

Sirens could be heard in the distance which was the only possibility of relief. Although by the time they break through and put out the fire, who knows if there would be anything left of the evidence I needed.

The first firetruck pulled up in front of the store. Hands grabbed at my arms, dragging me away from the building. I struggled to fight them before realizing what happened. After knocking the firefighters away, I stood up and approached one of them.

“We need to get in that store. There is evidence the Ulster County and Dutchess County Police Departments need.”

“I understand, but you need to back away and let us do our jobs, miss.” He stepped around me and met with the rest of his team. Part of me wanted to argue and correct the way he addressed me, but that was such a trivial matter compared to what I needed them to do.

I walked back to my car and called James. “You’ll never guess what happened.”

“I’m sure whatever it is, mine is just as bad.”

“Why what happened?”

“I got a call a little while ago about a car accident off of Route Fifty-Five. Young kid, must’ve been driving too fast and lost control of the car. I didn’t think much of it until I heard the plate number. It matched the one I found on the kid in the picture, the same kid that delivers for the florist we visited today.”

“Is he okay?”

“By the time I got here, they took him to the hospital. They said he’s in critical condition. Based on the wreckage I’m looking at; I don’t know how this kid could possibly survive.”

“You think he just lost control?” I asked.

“Maybe, but doubtful. Something caused him to veer off the road. Either he swerved to miss something, or someone forced him off the road.” Our leads were dwindling down to nothing. “What did you want to tell me?”

“That we no longer have any leads to work from.”

“What do you mean? We still have the florist and their security footage. That might turn up something.”

“No, it won’t. I’m standing outside the shop now watching firefighters put out a small inferno.”

“The place went on fire?”

“No, someone set it on fire. I’m thinking it’s the same person that drove our delivery boy off the road.”

“What about the store owner?”

“Haven’t seen her yet, but I’m sure she’ll be happy to answer our questions now.” I stared at the fiery remnants of our last lead. “I’ll see you back at the house in a little bit. We’re going to be in for a long day tomorrow.”