Out For Justice (10 page)

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Authors: Vicki Taylor

BOOK: Out For Justice
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Chapter Nineteen

 

 

Karen dropped her blouse into the dirty clothes hamper in her bathroom and slid into a soft, butter yellow robe. She liked the way she felt today in her dress up clothes and the reactions from her fellow officers went a long way to sending her self-esteem through the roof. Getting the second looks and the dropped jaws was more than enough. Hearing the complimentary comments was just icing on the cake. She knew her earlier decision to wear something more flattering was the right choice and it helped her decide that from now on she’d take more care with her wardrobe. Jeans and t-shirts were fine for some occasions, but they didn’t do a whole lot to help her feel feminine. And that’s what she wanted right now. To feel more feminine. She looked in the bathroom mirror. She had a nice complexion, probably because her mother drilled it into her enough times to take care of her skin and she did. Even to the point of using a sunscreen on a daily basis to help protect from the intense tropical sun of Florida.

Wide, intense hazel eyes looked back at her from her reflection. She was fortunate to have been born with thick dark lashes that brushed the top of her cheeks when she blinked. She knew her eyes were her best feature. Her nose was short, with a small upturn at the end that her father used to gently poke when she was a child to tease her. That was before her sister died. The poking and gentle teasing went away, the same as her mother’s smiles and soft laughs.

  Generous, full lips slowly turned into a frown as she continued her personal survey. She didn’t want to think about her sister’s death tonight. Not after the great day she had today. After Mike asked her out, she spent the rest of the day following up on the background checks on the Hunts along with their volatile polygraphs. After the Hunts, she managed to get in touch with several teachers at the children’s school, three out of their four neighbors, and the employers for Mark Hunt. So far, she hadn’t turned up anything suspicious, but knew that she needed to check with the Crime Analysis Section tomorrow to see if they came up with any unusual banking activity. If the Hunts did hire someone to kill their son, a large withdrawal might show up in their bank transactions.

In her gut, Karen knew it was a long shot, but part of her job was eliminating possibilities along with searching for the answer. Whatever she felt inside, she had to find proof to substantiate her theory. Evidence was the only thing that mattered, and evidence to prove that the parents weren’t the perpetrators was as important to the case as fingerprints and footprints of other possible suspects.

Releasing a sigh, Karen turned away from the mirror and headed back into her bedroom. Turning out the bathroom light, she paused for a moment to clear her mind from the day’s activities. She’d worked hard today and wanted to unwind. Not ready for bed but still needing some relaxing, she turned the light back on and headed for the tub. Turning on the faucet, she sprinkled a handful of coconut-scented bath salts into the steady stream of water and watched them swirl away. A relaxing warm bath with her favorite scent and a glass of wine would be just the thing to help her recuperate from such an intense day.

While her bath filled, she padded in bare feet to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine and grab the latest issue of the
Cosmo
magazine from the counter where she’d thrown today’s mail. Glancing at the cover, she noticed an interesting article:
How to Let Him Know You Want Him—Five Easy Steps
.

“Hmm, maybe I’ll learn something I can use on Mike,” Karen muttered to herself on her way back to her bathroom, magazine in one hand and her wine glass in the other.

Settled in her bath, Karen held the magazine up high away from the water and bubbles. Skipping most of the magazine, she quickly turned to the page with the interesting article and started to read. The article was typical
Cosmo,
listing various ways to let the guy know you like him and quoting experts who say women should be more assertive in this day and age.

Smiling to herself, Karen said, “Mom always used to say if you don’t ask, you don’t get.” Reading further, Karen found out that this particular author thought men were a lot dumber than women and basically needed to be hit over the head before they’d make a move. Shaking her head and laughing, Karen hoped she wouldn’t have to hit Mike over the head, maybe just give him a persuasive nudge or two.

Looking over the five steps to let a guy know you want them, Karen giggled. She could handle number one by not coming on too strong, but she drew the line at number two telling her to be a flirt. She didn’t know how to flirt and didn’t think she’d be any good at it if she tried. The closest she got to flirt with Mike was at dinner last night and she was sure she wasn’t any good at it. If anything, looking back at it, she thought she made a fool of herself and wouldn’t be trying any flirting in the near future.

She liked number three. She could definitely keep it casual. She wasn’t a fancy restaurant kind of girl. Give her pizza and beer and she’d be happy. Jeans and t-shirts were more her thing than dresses, but…it sure felt good to wear that dress to dinner with Mike. He appreciated it. She saw it in his eyes.

Wondering whether asking Mike out fell into the flirting category, Karen thought that she might try it if she could work up the nerve. Her eyes widened as she read number four. How could she let Mike know what she wanted if she was just figuring it out for herself? The article said to be clear about where she wanted things to go. Right. As soon as they cleared up for her first. How in the heck was she supposed to tell a man everything she wanted in life when she was still working on it for herself? Yeah. This article was a lot of help.

Karen sighed. These ways were supposed to be in order of use. How could they jump from being casual to letting him know what you want? And number five? Actually tell him how you feel?

Karen sat up. Shivers ran up her back. Goosebumps popped up on her arms. Was she afraid of telling a man how she felt? She carried a gun, for cripe’s sake. She could do it.

If she successfully made it through the four previous points, she could definitely tell one man how she felt about him. However, that was a big ‘if’. Like ‘if’ she could do any of those steps without making a big idiot out of herself. Like ‘if’ Mike got over his no dating co-workers rule, then she might have a chance. Like ‘if’ she ever figured out what she wanted in life so she could tell Mike what she wanted in a man. Man, that was a lot of ‘ifs’. Maybe she’d just start with if she would ever see him again. A lot could happen between now and Friday.

Like, he could change his mind.

Chapter Twenty

 

 

After a satisfying lunch of turkey sandwiches and potato chips at Pickles Sandwich Shop, Karen and Sam headed back towards the house of Raymond Alan Thomas to see if he was in yet. They’d checked once already today to see if he was home, and he wasn’t. Sam and Karen didn’t get anywhere at Thomas’ most recent job. The guy didn’t have a steady work record and was apparently between jobs at the moment. They even cruised by the corner store to see if he was hanging out with his buddies. So far, they’d racked up a zero on all tries.

Thomas’ girlfriend, Maggie Morris, said that he’d been to the house and left again, and was aware that the police were trying to talk to him. Maggie swore that she gave her boyfriend their messages and promised to call them as soon as he arrived.

“When was the last time you talked to the lab about the shoe print? Did they find a match yet?” Sam asked while he navigated the side streets of Tampa in an attempt to avoid traffic in the higher prone areas.

“This morning before we left to check on Thomas,” Karen said, reaching for her notebook to verify. “FDLE said that they’re probably still a day or so from getting to it.”

“Well, shit. This is getting frustrating. Damn it, I know it’s him.”

“Can’t we do something? Anything?” Agitated, Karen brushed back her hair and blew out a heavy breath that ruffled the hairs across her forehead.

“The problem is we can’t find the guy. Why don’t we go back to the office and check on some routes out of here and see if he took any of them. We’ll check the bus terminal, airport, even the train station. If he tried to sneak out of town, we’ll know it.”

“Good. Sounds like a plan.”

“You’re right. We gotta do something.” Sam smacked the steering wheel. ”I’m tired of waiting for him to just show up. We gotta do some offensive work. See if we can turn anything up we might be able to take to the D.A. for a warrant.”

“You mean, like if he left town, we could get him on a probation violation?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Making a left turn, Sam headed the car toward the on ramp for the Crosstown. In seconds, they left the city of Tampa behind them as they made their way back to the offices of the warehouse.

“Do you think he’d skip town on his girlfriend?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him. Probably leave her holding the bag for the rent on that house too.”

“Maybe she’s better off without him.”

“Maybe.”

After negotiating their way through the tollbooth, Sam spoke up. “So, you’ve been out with Connelly. You two getting serious?”

“What? Me and Mike? We’ve been on one date and we’ve gone running together. Hardly serious.”

“Going out with Connelly is serious. The guy doesn’t date—”

Karen interrupted him with a sigh and said, “Yeah, I know, he doesn’t date anyone from work. I’m beginning to think that’s a big deal.”

“It is a big deal.” Sam turned to look at Karen. “He used to go out with a patrol officer.” He turned his attention back to the traffic. “She’s since moved on to another county, but he swore never again.”

 “So he’s changed his mind.”

“Maybe. And maybe he sees something special.”

Her face grew warm. “What do you mean?” Karen tried to hide the blush she felt sweep up her neck and over her cheeks by looking out the window.

 “Come on, Sykes. You’re a beautiful woman. A great person. Someone was bound to see it.”

“Geez, Sam. Thanks.”

“Just don’t tell the other guys, okay?” Sam gave a short chuckle. “I’m supposed to be a hard nose, remember?”

“I won’t give you away, you old softy.”

“Hey, watch the ‘old’ crack.” Sam let go of the steering wheel with one hand and flexed his arm to show off his muscle. “I can still hold my own.”

“Yeah, yeah. We need to finish our game.”

“That’s right. You were gonna try and sink a basket and beat me, weren’t you?”

“And I will too, just let me get back out on the court.”

“Well, we’ll see if we have time after we do some work this afternoon.”

It took Sam and Karen the rest of the day and most of the evening to run down all the possible public exits out of town. If Raymond Alan Thomas left Tampa, he didn’t do it on a bus, plane, or train.

“Uh huh?” Karen said into the telephone while she raised her eyebrows at Sam and motioned for him to come over to her desk.

“Great, thanks. We’ll be in touch.” Hanging up the phone, Karen threw her pencil down on her desk then leaned back and stretched.

“So who was that?” Sam asked as he took a seat on the corner of Karen’s desk.

“Raymond’s probation officer.”

“Oh?”

“He finally returned my calls. Seems our Mr. Thomas has been negligent in his contact with his probation officer and has become a wanted man for reasons other than what we want him for.”

“Are they swearing out a bench warrant?” Sam stood and started pacing. He worked better when he was moving.

“The probation officer said he could or we could. It didn’t matter which. He’d provide any corroborating evidence if we wanted to make the move.”

“All right. Have him meet you down at the courthouse tomorrow morning and you get the warrant signed. Bring it to me as soon as you get it. I’ll be staked out at Thomas’s house just in case he decides to show up. His girlfriend didn’t call by chance to let us know if he returned, did she?”

“No, I haven’t heard from her, but she could be covering for him too.”

Sam stopped pacing and stood in front of Karen with his hands on his hips. “She could be. That’s why I’m going to stake out the house myself.” He rubbed a hand over his short hair then said, “I’m tired of playing this game on his terms. It’s time to get serious.”

Chapter Twenty-One

 

 

“We just got our fax.” Karen waved a paper in the air as she made her way to where Sam was standing. She weaved her way in and out of the short hallways in between cubicles.

“Is that the probation officer’s report?”

“Yep.”

“Good. Now, I want you to take that and high tail your ass down to the D.A.'s office and get an arrest warrant for this son of a bitch. Tell whoever will listen about the boots and the footprint and our hunch. Then I want you to get over to the Thomas house as quick as you can. We’ll sit there all night if we have to, but we’re gonna serve that warrant today.”

“You got it. Anyone I should talk to in particular?”

“Try Martin. He’ll listen to you and knows how to expedite.”

“Martin. Got it.” Karen turned as if to go.

“Karen.”

“Yeah?” She turned back.

“You did good, kid.” Sam patted her on the shoulder rather gruffly.

“Thanks, Sam. That means a lot coming from you.”

“Now get out of here so you can be done in time for your date tonight.” Sam smiled and winked.

Karen took off for the parking lot and her car. She left Sam standing in the hall watching her as she walked away. She thought about him being at the house on his own, waiting for her to return. A shiver ran through her. She brushed it off as excitement.

Karen strode through the double doors of the District Attorney’s office twenty minutes later, excited and nervous. She impatiently tapped her toe as she stood in line to speak to the young woman at the front desk.

Finally it was her turn.

“Mr. Martin, please.”

“And you are?” the young woman asked, as she answered the telephone with, “Please hold.”

“Detective Sykes. Tell him Sykes for Detective Sam Anderson.” Karen’s voice lifted as she finished. She took a deep breath. She needed to calm down. She pressed her hands to the sides of her face, then waved a hand to cool off a hot cheek. She looked around at the others in the room. Weren’t they hot too? Wasn’t there any air conditioning in this building?

“Detective Sykes. I hear you need to see me.” A man rounded the corner from inside an office and smiled as if television cameras were watching him.

“If you’re Mr. Martin, then I do.” Karen blurted out.

“That’s me. David Martin.” He smiled more genuinely at Karen then ushered her to his office down the hall. “You said you’re here for Sam. Where is he?”

“I’m Detective Sykes, Sam’s partner. Sam and I are working on a case, the Hunt boy? Do you know the one I’m talking about? Well, we’re pretty sure we’ve found our suspect. He’s violated his probation and here’s the probation officer’s report.” Karen handed Mr. Martin the faxed copy as he rounded his desk and sat down in an overstuffed leather chair. She hurried on to say, “We got a fingerprint match and we searched his house and found boots that match the print we found at the scene, well, we think they match, we’re still waiting on the report, and—”

“Wait, you searched his house?”

“Yeah, but we got his girlfriend to sign a consent form so we could.” Karen’s face grew warm. She knew her cheeks had flared to an unflattering beet red. She bounced from one foot to the other impatient to continue her story. “Sam said—”

“Okay. I think I’ve got the picture. And you’re here for an arrest warrant?”

“Yes.” Blowing out the rest of her breath she’d been holding, Karen sighed. “Thank you for understanding my blathering mess.”

“Not a problem. You’re Sam’s new partner?” David Martin pulled some papers toward him as he punched up a screen on his computer monitor. “You’ll learn a lot from him. He’s a good cop.”

“I know.”

“Okay, hand me the rest of your paperwork, so I can put this warrant together. When I’m finished here, you need to take the warrant down to the third floor and go to courtroom 4B. You’ll find Judge Hoffman there. He’ll sign your warrant for you.”

“I really appreciate all this, Mr. Martin.”

“We all want to see this boy’s murder solved, Detective Sykes.”

Karen watched Mr. Martin click a few more keys on the computer’s keyboard then press the Print button. The printer started up with a whir and a clack.

“There. The warrant is printing.”

“Thank you.”

Martin pulled the paper off the printer and handed it to Karen. “Remember, courtroom 4B. Judge Hoffman will take care of you.”

In a hurry, Karen grasped David Martin’s hand and shook it. She turned to go, but remembered to toss another ‘thank you’ over her shoulder.

Out in the hall, she pushed the elevator button then bounced from one foot to the other as she waited for the elevator to arrive. “Come on, come on,” she mumbled under her breath.

With the ding of a bell, the doors opened and Karen rushed inside and pushed the button for the third floor. She pushed it again and again until the doors closed. A sense of urgency had overcome her. She felt like she needed to be back at the house, waiting with Sam. She had the sense that something big was about to happen and she needed to be there.

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