The Detective (10 page)

I held the phone to my ear. “Hey, babe.”

“Hey,” she said. “How’s your Monday?”

“Amazing. We finally have a solid lead on that case I’m working on.”

“That’s wonderful, Nathan.” She paused for a beat. “Unless you’re joking and then it’s not funny at all.”

I pulled the phone away from my head and stared at it for a second. “Joking?” I finally asked her. “Why would I joke about something like this?”

“Because it’s April Fools’ Day,” she said.

I looked at the date on my watch. It was April 1
st
. I had no idea. “No. I’m definitely not joking. We’re on our way to make an arrest right now.”

“Oh, well that’s good. Our office has been rampant with pranks today. Our IT guy had a sign made that said our office printer was now upgraded to use voice recognition software. I stood there yelling at the printer to print for ten minutes before they finally clued me in.”

I covered my mouth, but chuckled anyway. “I’m sorry. That’s pretty funny.”

She let out a huff. “I swear those computer guys have way too much power.”

I was still laughing at the thought of her talking to the printer when Reese slapped me on the arm and pointed to the street sign where Culver’s apartment building was. “Shannon, I’ve got to go. We’re almost there. I’ll call you later.”

“Good luck!” she said before I disconnected the line.

I looked at Reese. “Did you remember it’s April Fools’ Day?”

He nodded. “I was gonna tell you that Carr told someone you were getting canned, but after your story this morning, I worried it might be true.”

I slugged him in the arm as he turned into the apartment complex.

Through the windshield, I studied the building. “I hope this isn’t a prank.”

“I’ll kill somebody myself if it is,” Reese said and put the car in park.

The front door of the apartment was standing open, so we walked in with guns drawn. The television was on and water was boiling on the stove next to a box of macaroni. But no one was home. Kyle Culvers had left in a hurry.
 

I holstered my Glock. “It’s like the bastard knew we were coming!”

Reese looked at me. “He had to know. But how?”

Shaking my head, I looked around the apartment. “I need to think.”

Reese smirked. “Good luck with that.”

I held up my middle finger. “Don’t touch anything,” I told the other two deputies. “Reese, go check his closet. I’ll bet he’s a size ten.”

He nodded and walked down the hallway. I pulled out my cell phone and began making calls. The first was to put out an APB on the car Culvers was driving. Judging by the amount of water left in the boiling pot on the stove, I guessed he didn’t have that much of a head start. The second call I made was to the sheriff, so he would hear the bad news from me instead of Carr. I called Carr last, but hung up in the middle of his rant when Reese reappeared with a pair of sneakers dangling from his fingertips.

“Size ten. You called it,” he said.

A deputy produced an evidence bag.
 

I shoved my phone in my pocket. “We need to get back to the office so I can figure out if we’ve got a mole or not.”

Reese’s eyebrows lifted. “You think it’s someone on our side?”

We walked outside and I turned toward the deputies. “Secure this place and sit on it. I want statements from all the neighbors. I’ll be back.” I looked at Reese. “You got a better idea?”

He pulled out his key fob and unlocked his car. “The State knew, so did countless people at the courthouse.”

I opened the passenger’s side door and looked at him over the roof. “Yeah, but it’s too coincidental that all of our officers have been just far enough away for the perps to escape each crime scene. Now this.”

He nodded as we got in the car. “Good point.”

I leaned against the door and tugged my ball cap down tight over my eyes. “But how?”

When I sat up and looked toward Reese again, my eyes fell to the laptop mounted on his dash. “Holy shit.”

He slammed on his brakes mid-way through backing out of his space. “What?”

I slammed his laptop shut as I repeated Shannon’s words. “The computer guys have too much power.”

His eyes doubled in size. “Ramon.”

“Get to the office,
now
!”

TWELVE

USING MY PERSONAL phone, I called the lieutenant directly and explained the situation. At first he laughed at me, reasoning that no one in
his
office could possibly be dirty right under his nose. But after a moment of likely considering the consequences for his career should I be right and he be wrong, he consented to put the office on lockdown.
 

“Is he going to wait for us to get there?” Reese asked as he sped down the interstate.

I laughed but didn’t think it was funny. “I doubt it.”

“So he can take all the glory, I’m sure.”

I braced myself against the dash as we took a particularly fast curve off the exit ramp. “I’m sure.”

When we peeled into the parking lot a few minutes later, there were several officers outside the main door on the steps. They looked confused and anxious and glad to see two detectives who might know what was going on.

I pulled out my radio. “What’s happening in there?” I asked one of the deputies.

He shook his head. “We don’t know. The building’s on lockdown. Doors are barred and nobody’s answering the radio. Somebody said it’s something internal.”
 

Cupping my hands around my eyes, I tried to peer through the reflective glass on the front entrance. It was hard to focus through the dim window, but after a second, I registered that Ramon had Marge in his arms, using her as a shield against the deputies with their guns drawn on him in the lobby. Something sharp was in his hand and pointed at her head—or her neck— I couldn’t tell.

“What is it?” Reese asked, stepping up behind me.

“He’s taken Marge as a hostage!” I spun around. “Everyone get away from the door!”

Reese grabbed my arm. “What are you going to do?”

I aimed my Glock at the door handle. “I’m going to let him out.”

“Nate, man, no! That’s against protocol—”

“Fuck protocol, Reese!” I shouted. “He’s going to come through that door and we’re going to take him down! He doesn’t have a gun and he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing.”

He was shaking his head. “This is a bad idea, man.”

I narrowed my gaze at him. “Trust me.”

After a second of deliberating, he took a step back, and I fired off a round at the door where I knew the locking mechanism was housed. The blast was deafening. Just as I predicted, the door swung open and Ramon stumbled back out of it with Marge still in his grip.
 
Reese and I rushed him from both sides, me pushing Marge out of the way and Reese tackling him onto the concrete. Marge’s silver letter opener clanged to the ground as it flew from Ramon’s grasp.

Reese sat up with his knees still pinning Ramon down on the sidewalk and panting as he pressed Ramon’s face into the concrete. “Got him.”

I pulled back from where I was sheltering Marge. “Are you OK?”

She had a bloody scratch on her neck and she was visibly trembling, but she nodded. “I’m OK. Thank you, Nathan.”

Every other officer inside the jail poured out through the door with their guns aimed at us. I wiped sweat from my brow under my hat. “Show’s over, boys.”

Carr stormed outside. “I should have known!” he roared.

I rolled off of Marge and onto my ass, still trying to catch my breath. I looked up at him. “It’s over.”

In two strides, he was almost on top of me. “You just violated about nineteen different—”

“Carr!” I shouted to cut him off.
 

He stopped, taken back by my tone.
 

I looked up at him. “Just shut up!”

All eyes in front of the jail went wide. Reese laughed. A few people stumbled back. I didn’t care.
 

Dusting myself off, I stood up and shook my head. “I knew we could take him down and we did. It’s over. Punish me. Fire me.” I shook my head. “I don’t even care anymore.” I offered Marge my hand and helped her to her feet. Another officer took her under his arm and led her back toward the building. I stopped just in front of my boss’s face. “Excuse me. I’ve got work to do.”

THIRTEEN

CARR DIDN’T FIRE me, but only because he couldn’t afford to and keep his job. By the end of the day, the story had reached the local news. By the weekend, it had gone national. The sheriff’s job is a political office and it was an election year, so I smiled for the cameras, knowing each headline meant job security.

Ramon Edgar had been the inside-man pumping information about the sheriff’s office to his two friends, Kyle Culvers and Travis Bell—a.k.a. Justin Sider. Travis, an M.I.T. engineering drop-out, had been the ring leader of the trio and was an expert at cracking safes. He had once even taught a seminar on it at an international security conference. Just as I suspected, they were targeting homes protected by ArmorTech. They had spent months driving around nice neighborhoods looking for ArmorTech stickers on houses and then had hacked into the video feeds of each one. When they found a house with a large stash of cash, they planned their attack, waiting till no one was home, then disabling each system remotely prior to going in.

The death of Carissa Withers was a tragic miscalculation on their part. Still, Kyle Culvers, the trigger man, went up for second degree murder and the other two were charged with everything from accessory to tampering with evidence. All three of them would spend the majority of the rest of their lives in federal prison.

As far as I could tell, none of them had any grand plans for their loot aside from buying computer equipment and video game add-ons. Ramon had reportedly purchased a $6,000 elf on World of Warcraft through an auction in Australia. When I found out, I suddenly felt better about my non-existence social life.

Speaking of…
 

I spent the weekend dodging the media in Asheville.

On Friday night, Shannon took me downtown to eat dinner. Tupelo Honey was packed with a line of people waiting to get in, but she swore it was some of the best food in town and well worth the wait. When we were finally taken to our table, a surprising face was at the table next to ours.

“Sheriff Davis,” I said, putting my hand on his shoulder.

He looked up, then smiled when he saw me and stood. He offered me his hand. “Detective McNamara. Fancy meetin’ you here. How are ya?”

I nodded. “I’ve been busy.”

He laughed. “So, I’ve heard.” He pumped my fist again. “Congratulations on the robbery case. You’ve been all over the news, even here.”

I blew out a sigh. “Between you and me, I’m just glad it’s over. That was months of headache and frustration.”

“It usually is,” he said. “What brings you back to town?”

I looked over at Shannon. “Asheville hospitality.”

He chuckled and waved to her. “Nice to see you again, Ms. Green.” He looked down at the woman sitting next to him. “This is my wife, Gloria. Gloria, this is the hotshot investigator from Raleigh I’ve been trying to get moved out here, Nathan McNamara.”

I tipped my hat in her direction. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

She smiled politely.

He crossed his large arms over his chest. “Have you thought anymore about my offer?”

I laughed. “Honestly, sir, I’ve been so busy, I haven’t had time to think about anything.”

He pointed at me. “Well, don’t forget about it, son.”

I smiled and shook my head. “I won’t.” I bowed my head slightly. “I hope you enjoy your dinner.”

He nodded. “And you as well.”

Just as I joined Shannon at our table, my cell phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and looked at the screen. It was the lieutenant. I groaned and looked at Shannon. “Babe, will you excuse me for just a sec? I’ve got to take this. It’s my boss.”

She smiled. “Want me to order a drink for you?”

I glanced back at the bar. “Yeah, a pale ale on tap.”

She nodded as I walked away and pressed the answer button on my phone. I held it to my ear as I stepped back outside in the cold. “McNamara.”

“Nathan, I’m going to need you out with Wallace on the double homicide in Rolesville tonight,” Carr said in lieu of a greeting.

I rolled my eyes up toward the starry sky. “Lieutenant, I’m not on duty tonight.”

“I didn’t ask if you were. I said, I need you in Rolesville.”

“I’m out of town, sir.”

He paused. “I don’t believe you cleared your absence with me.”

“I’m not on duty,” I repeated, over-enunciating my words. “I’m sorry, sir. You’re going to have to call someone else.”

He began spouting off on the other end of the line, but I wasn’t listening. I held the phone away from my mouth and began making static noises. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. Bad reception. You’re breaking up on me.”

 
Then, with a little too much satisfaction, I pressed the end-call button and powered the phone all the way down before tucking it into my jacket pocket.
Screw that guy.

With a new quickness to my step, I turned back toward the restaurant just as two women stopped at the front door. They were about my age and both attractive. One was blonde and about six feet tall; the other was brunette and a little shorter than me.

“Adrianne, it’s packed,” the brunette said as she scrunched up her nose.

God, she’s hot.

The blonde looped her arm through her friend’s. “You’re right. Let’s go grab margaritas instead!”

My feet seemed rooted to the ground, as the brunette glanced over her shoulder at me and smiled. Her eyes were the color of new copper pennies. She looked back at her friend. “Go on then, you’re blocking the door!”

My breath hung in my chest as the pair took off down the street toward the sounds of a mariachi band. And like with the force of gravity pulling at me, I wanted to follow.

THANK YOU FOR READING!