Crime Seen (29 page)

‘‘Do you know what this is about?’’ I asked, but Andrea had already hung up. I slid the phone back into the cradle and looked around the room. The snake pit was filling up, as it was very nearly nine a.m. No one was paying attention to me, so I discreetly hooked the strap of my purse over my shoulder and got up, intending to walk ever so calmly to the door. I was stopped by a voice behind me. ‘‘Leaving already?’’

I turned around and saw Sheldon, looking very much like a cobra with his beady little eyes and round head. ‘‘Actually, I’m supposed to be training with a closer this morning. If Darren comes in, will you tell him I’m down the hall?’’

Sheldon didn’t answer me; he just swiveled back around in his squeaky chair and picked up his phone again. I took that as a positive sign and walked out the door and into the corridor. I wasted no time heading to the lobby and aiming for the exit to the parking garage. There was no way I was meeting with Wolfe. I had no idea what he wanted, but my thinking was it wasn’t anything good, and I’d gotten pretty much all the information I was able to at this point anyway. It was better just to cut my losses and run.

I made my way to the parking garage and was on my way to my car when I saw an extremely pregnant woman walking toward me. She looked very familiar and I knew we’d met before because when our eyes met, her face registered surprise. ‘‘I can’t believe I’m running into you!’’ she exclaimed.

‘‘Hey there,’’ I said, smiling back while my brain worked frantically to recall her name. I assumed she must be a client, as I have a lot of them around the area and I’m always getting waved at or said hello to by people I think are total strangers.

‘‘Remember me?’’ she asked as she drew even with me.

I gave her an apologetic shrug. ‘‘I’m sorry. I think you’re a client of mine, but I’m terrible with names. Can you remind me?’’

Her smile broadened. ‘‘I never gave you my name, and I’m not really a client.’’ My face must have registered confusion, because she went on to explain, ‘‘We met at Jackson Prison. I was there visiting my brother. I’m Selena,’’ she said and offered me her hand.

‘‘Oh, yeah!’’ I said, shaking hands. ‘‘I remember now. Wow, you’re a long way from there. What brings you to this neck of the woods?’’

‘‘I live in Hazel Park,’’ she said, pointing south. ‘‘And I’m here to close on my loan.’’

My radar buzzed and I automatically tuned in. ‘‘You’re heading into Universal?’’ I asked. After she nodded I said, ‘‘Why do I get the feeling you’re not happy about signing the mortgage docs?’’

‘‘Because of what you said,’’ she explained. ‘‘You told me to be very cautious about signing any legal paperwork, but it’s for my brother. I have to do this.’’

A car came up the ramp and headed in our direction. I was getting jumpy in the parking garage, and didn’t want to hang out there a moment longer than I needed to, but Selena looked scared and overwhelmed, and my heart went out to her. ‘‘Do you maybe have time for a cup of coffee?’’ I asked. ‘‘I know a place about two blocks over.’’

Selena looked at her watch. ‘‘Maybe a quick one. I gotta be back here by ten.’’

Each of us drove our car over to the coffee shop, parked, then went inside and took a seat in a booth. After we ordered I said, ‘‘Tell me about what’s going on with your brother, Selena.’’

She gave a heavy sigh and rubbed her large belly protectively. ‘‘If I tell you he could die,’’ she said.

‘‘Fine,’’ I said as I spooned some sugar into my coffee. ‘‘Then let me tell you. There is some connection between the closing on your loan and your brother’s well-being. I get the impression you’re being forced into it, but it’s for the right reasons. It’s to keep your brother safe.’’

Selena’s eyes began to water. ‘‘He’s my brother,’’ she said. ‘‘If I don’t help him and something happened to him, it would kill my mother. If I do help him, I don’t know how I’m going to make the payments.’’

‘‘Tell me what’s really going on, and I promise I’ll try and help you,’’ I said.

She took a long moment to answer me, but finally she said, ‘‘A few weeks ago, my mother went to visit my brother and he was banged up pretty good. He said that he couldn’t talk about what happened, but my mother was so upset when she got home. And then a few days later a letter arrived. There were pictures of my brother. He looked really bad. They must have been taken right after he was beaten up. And there was a letter with the pictures. It said that we had to come up with ten thousand dollars or my brother would end up a lot worse.’’

‘‘And by a lot worse, I’m assuming they’d kill him?’’ Selena nodded and her lip quivered. ‘‘I went up to see him the very next day, and he said that there was a man in the jail that had threatened him. He said that he knew my brother’s family had money and that he expected payment of ten thousand dollars or Nero was going to be tortured and killed.’’

‘‘Why didn’t your brother just go to the prison authorities?’’

Selena looked at me like I was an idiot. ‘‘Because he’s trying to stay alive, not get killed faster.’’

‘‘Ah,’’ I said. Prison sounded like a real fun place. ‘‘So what did you do?’’

‘‘There was a card in the letter that came to the house. The letter instructed me to call the number on the card and I could arrange for payment to keep my brother alive.’’

My heart began to race. ‘‘Whose name was on the card?’’

‘‘Sheldon Jacob,’’ she said. ‘‘He’s a loan officer at Universal. He said he could get me the cash out of my house to save my brother plus a little extra for me. I told him I couldn’t make the payments—I’m barely getting by as it is. He said that he could find me a renter for the house and get me into a house that’s cheaper, but the place he has in mind for me is a lot closer to Detroit and the neighborhood is bad. There are gangs and drugs and shit I don’t want my kids seeing.’’ Selena rubbed her belly in earnest now.

I could tell she’d sacrificed a lot to own her home and try and put her children and her mother in a safe neighborhood. Now she was on the verge of taking a huge step backward, all to save her brother.

At that moment, so many images flooded my mind that I blinked several times in rapid succession and I knew what I had to do. ‘‘Selena,’’ I said, reaching across the table to grab her hand, ‘‘you can’t sign those papers.’’

‘‘I have to!’’ she said earnestly. ‘‘Otherwise Nero will be killed!’’

My brain worked frantically. If Selena hadn’t gone to the authorities the last time, then there’d be little chance getting her to go now. ‘‘Fine,’’ I said, letting go of her hand. ‘‘Sign the papers today and give me two days.’’

She cocked her head to the side, confused. ‘‘What?’’ she asked.

‘‘In Michigan you have a three-day right to rescind on a refinance. You won’t receive a penny until that rescindment period is over. We’ve got until Wednesday at midnight to get your brother to safety. If I can do that, will you rescind the loan?’’

‘‘You mean if you can help Nero, and I say I don’t want the loan by Wednesday night, then the loan is no good?’’

I smiled. ‘‘Exactly. I have friends who I think can help your brother. Just give me two days to do it, okay? Don’t say anything to anyone, and especially don’t say anything to your brother or your mother.’’

There was a small glimmer of hope in Selena’s eyes as she looked at me. ‘‘I’m really sorry,’’ she said at last.

‘‘For what, honey?’’ I asked her.

‘‘I was such a bitch to you at the prison, and here you are the only person that’s really trying to help me.’’

I patted her hand reassuringly. ‘‘We girls have to stick together,’’ I said and glanced at my watch. ‘‘You’ve got fifteen minutes to get back over to Universal. This is my number,’’ I added. I fished around inside my purse and withdrew my business card. ‘‘Call me tomorrow night and I’ll give you a status report.’’

‘‘Thank you,’’ she said and took my card and pulled out one of her own. ‘‘My last name is Rivera,’’ she said, pointing to her card. ‘‘My brother is Nero Rivera.’’

‘‘Got it,’’ I said with a wink to her. ‘‘Don’t worry. We’ll straighten this whole thing out.’’

After Selena left, I pulled out my cell and made two calls. The first was to Candice, and I told her I needed to meet with her right away. ‘‘How about we meet up at the office?’’ she asked. ‘‘I’m on my way there now.’’

‘‘Perfect. See you in five.’’ The next call was to Dutch. I got his voice mail and left him an urgent message to call me as soon as possible, told him that I was headed to my office and that I’d have my cell on all day.

Candice and I met in the lobby of our office building. As we waited for the elevator, we could hear a parade of sirens somewhere out on the streets. ‘‘Sounds like a three-alarmer,’’ I said as we got into the elevator.

Candice smiled. ‘‘That is one thing I don’t miss about downtown Kalamazoo,’’ she said. ‘‘There’s always a siren in the background.’’

‘‘Dicey neighborhood?’’ I asked as I pressed the button for the second floor.

‘‘Can be.’’

When the elevator dinged and the doors opened we walked down the hallway making small talk. As I pulled out my key to unlock the door, the sirens stopped screeching from outside. ‘‘Thank God that’s stopped,’’ Candice said. ‘‘They must have been responding to something close by.’’

‘‘Well, we are only a few blocks over from the police station,’’ I informed her as I turned the handle and pushed at the door. It opened about two inches and seemed to bump into something. ‘‘What the . . . ?’’ I said, pressing my hip against the door.

‘‘What’s the matter?’’ Candice asked.

‘‘I don’t know. Something seems to be blocking the door,’’ I said. This time I put my shoulder into it.

The door gave way grudgingly and we could hear something sliding on the floor behind it. Candice pushed as well and we finally had enough room to wedge through the opening to see what had fallen against the door. I gave a shriek when I got into my lobby. Candice poked her head in and saw me pointing at the ground. ‘‘Ohmigod!’’ she yelled as she pushed hard on the door and came in behind me.

There on the floor lay Darren Cox. Encircling him was a giant pool of dark red blood. I stumbled backward, breathing heavily, and leaned against the wall. Candice bent down and felt for a pulse. Then she got up and drew her gun. She mouthed, ‘‘Stay here’’ at me and moved into the other rooms.

I stood there and just stared at Darren, unable to move and unable to think as I clutched dizzily at the wall. When Candice joined me again, a shadow appeared in the doorway and Candice stepped in front of me, raising her gun. A second later a police officer pushed his way into the lobby and took one look at Candice’s raised gun and Darren’s body.

‘‘Drop your weapon!’’ he shouted, his own gun coming up to point right at her chest.

Candice wasted no time in complying. Her gun fell to the ground with a loud thud and she turned to me as more police officers crowded into the small lobby. ‘‘We are
so
dead,’’ she said, right before she was jerked roughly by the arm and whipped around to be pressed up against the wall.

I was grabbed and hauled around too, and I squeezed my eyes shut at the click of handcuffs encircling my wrists. ‘‘What’s going on?’’ I yelled.

‘‘You’re under arrest,’’ said the officer who had put the cuffs on me.

‘‘We didn’t do anything!’’ I shouted.

‘‘You have the right to remain silent,’’ he said and continued to drone my Miranda rights in a monotone. Out of the corner of my eye I could see two officers leaning over Darren. One of them checked for a pulse and shook his head at the other officer. I felt all the breath go out of me as the edges of my vision began to darken. My knees buckled and I went down to the floor, struggling to breathe, but I couldn’t seem to fill my lungs with enough oxygen. Two sets of arms grabbed me under the shoulders and pulled me out of the office just as I blacked out for good.

Several hours later, I was sitting across from Milo at the Royal Oak PD in an interrogation room. ‘‘Feeling better?’’ he asked me as I sipped at some water.

‘‘No,’’ I said hoarsely. ‘‘Milo, this is crazy. Candice and I had nothing to do with Darren’s murder!’’

Milo gave me a hard look. ‘‘Abby, you need to understand something here. Today I am not your friend. Today I am a detective assigned to a murder that took place in your office, and I’m the one who has to rely on the evidence, not my friendship with you.’’

I shook my head, perplexed. How had this happened? ‘‘Go easy on her, buddy,’’ I heard a baritone voice say from across the room.

Milo glared at Dutch. ‘‘Go
easy
on her? Dutch, I’ve got a nine-one-one call of shots fired in an office building not three blocks from here. My guys respond in a minute thirty and they find your girlfriend in the room where the shots were fired, a dead guy on the floor, and your girlfriend’s partner standing over said dead guy with a gun. You tell me how I can justify
going easy
on her!’’

Dutch came over to the small table where Milo and I were sitting and took a chair himself. ‘‘Start from the beginning, Abby,’’ he said gently. ‘‘Just tell us what you know.’’

I closed my eyes, but the image of Darren lying in his own blood wouldn’t leave my mind’s eye. ‘‘We didn’t kill him,’’ I whispered.

‘‘Then tell us who did,’’ said Milo. ‘‘Abby, you guys had to have seen it go down. The timing is just too close.’’

I shook my head again. ‘‘I swear to you, Milo, what I told you earlier is the truth! I called Candice right before I called Dutch and told her to meet me at the office. We met in the lobby and that’s when we heard the sirens. We didn’t hear any shots. We weren’t in the suite when Darren was killed, and I may have my suspicions about who killed him, but I can’t be certain at this point.’’

‘‘Who are you suspicious of?’’ asked Milo.

I sighed heavily. ‘‘Dick Wolfe comes to mind,’’ I said, rubbing my temples.

‘‘It’s funny you should mention him,’’ Milo said. ‘‘He just left the station after giving a statement to another detective.’’