The Wrong Side of Dead (9 page)

Jess cleared her throat, feeling completely out of place. She hadn’t given much thought to where she’d end up today after she’d dressed that morning. Her faded jeans and black Gold’s Gym tee were second nature to her. And the lightweight jacket she wore covered her Colt Python. But one thing Jess had learned long ago. No one made her feel second-rate unless she let it happen. She dragged fingers through her dark hair in a nearby mirror, pretending to care what the Chicago wind had done to her locks, but in actuality she was scanning the lobby for the layout and the location of the elevators used by the residents.

After a respectable time, she held her chin high and walked toward the Concierge desk, forcing a smile. A short pudgy man with red cheeks, a tan-and-gold uniform, and thinning dark hair greeted her.

“May I help you, miss?” He grinned and cocked his head, an almost robotic move. Way too perky to suit her.

“Actually, you can.” She tapped her fingernails on the counter between them, trying flirty on for size. “I’m pretty sure my younger brother lives here, but he doesn’t know I’ve come to the city. I’d love to surprise him by knocking on his door. Could you please tell me his suite number?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give out his room number. We protect the privacy of our guests. I’m sure you understand.”

“Oh…sure. Then maybe someone could accompany me to his room? When he opens the door, you’ll see it’ll be okay with him, I promise.”

Jess knew hotel personnel might resist giving her the suite number outright, but all she needed was the room number to come back after hours. Seeing the inside of Harper’s suite might give her another lead about him and the person he might be protecting.

“And what’s your brother’s name?” the concierge asked, poised over a computer on his desk.

“Seth Harper. Like I said, he’s not expecting me.” She smiled and shrugged. “It’s a surprise.”

Yeah, a real surprise
. Her plan had been to get confirmation that Harper lived here. And it looked as if the man behind the desk might just do that, but in an unexpected move, he narrowed his eyes, and said, “Excuse me. What did you say your name was?”

Harper’s name had triggered a defense mechanism in the man, and Jess had no idea why. For a second, she contemplated lying about her name, but chose not to.

“Jessica Beckett. A married name.” She mirrored the man’s concern on her face. “Is there something wrong?”

“Do you mind if I see some identification?” he said, but when she looked surprised, he added, “Like I said, we like to protect the privacy of our guests.”

“I’ve come to the right address, haven’t I? I haven’t been downtown since he moved in here.” She handed him her driver’s license. “Seth lives here, right?”

The man didn’t answer. Something in his eyes told her he knew Harper, yet there was more at play. He did imply Harper was a guest, but she couldn’t count on that as confirmation, not enough for breaking and entering.

“Excuse me.” He took her license and stepped through a door to a suite of offices beyond the lobby.

Damn it!
She wasn’t sure why her visit had created such a stir. This could be a good thing or attention she didn’t need. While she waited, she checked out the security cameras behind her. A girl could never be too careful when breaking into a guy’s room.

After a long few minutes, the man returned.

“Would you please follow me? Mr. Humphries would like a word.”

“Yeah, and what word would that be?” Her attitude was beginning to show. She wasn’t going to get any cooperation, not today. “’Cause if he doesn’t have one in mind, I can make a suggestion or two.”

“Please…this way.”

She followed the uniformed man through the door by his desk and into the suite of offices she had spied earlier. Beyond a small break room, a reception area and a rather large office were at the end of the hallway, no doubt their final destination. A petite woman in a dark business suit with short auburn hair sat outside the office at a desk, presumably an administrative assistant to the head honcho. With a blank stare, the woman watched her walk by but didn’t acknowledge her in any way.

Corporate America meets the Stepford wives in sensible pumps!

Jess figured Humphries to be the property manager or head of security; either way, she didn’t like being summoned. And she hadn’t gotten her driver’s license back. At the threshold to the office, the concierge allowed her to enter and shut the door behind her, leaving her alone with a distinguished-looking man. His dark hair was streaked with gray, and he wore a sharp navy suit.

“My name is Jonathan Humphries. I manage this property and oversee security here. Please…have a seat.” With a refined quality to his soft-spoken voice, the man offered a chair in front of his desk with a sweep of his hand.

“No thanks. I prefer to stand.” She walked over to a nearby window and checked out the view of the bustling street beyond the reflective glass. “It’s been years since I’ve been in high school, but your summons feels like a call to the principal’s office.”

“Ah, Ms. Beckett. Why does that not surprise me?” Humphries held her license in his hand, staring at it. When he looked up, he shook her by asking, “How is Seth?”

The initial sternness in the man’s expression softened, and his voice reflected genuine concern. She narrowed her eyes.

“So you know what happened to him?”

“Yes, he contacted me a short while ago. And I know he considers you a friend. If that hadn’t been the case, I can assure you that we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” He handed back her license. “Why are you here, Ms. Beckett?”

She thought she had known the answer to that question…until now.

Jess pocketed her license and kept her eyes on Jonathan Humphries, sizing the man up. In the end she opted for a rare first step—honesty.

“I wanted to see who Seth was protecting at the expense of his freedom. He’s cut himself off to fight this thing alone when he could use all the help he can get. Is he protecting you?”

“No, but I’m not at liberty to say any more on the subject.”

The man sat behind his desk, looking worried and bone weary. Jess shoved her hands into her jeans pockets and remained standing, still feeling the edge of a faltering defiance.

“I’m arranging for legal counsel, and if bail money is required, I’ll cover it,” Humphries added.

“That’s a start. Thanks.” With his cooperation, she slumped into one of his chairs. “You know, I thought if I came here, I’d get to know more about Harper. The guy’s a regular ghost. I definitely think of him as a friend, but I know nothing about him.”

Humphries found humor in what she’d said. A sad smile came and went. If she hadn’t been watching him, she might have missed it.

“Do you form such loyalties for people you hardly know, Ms. Beckett?”

“Actually, no, but Harper is…special.”

“Yes, he is.” The man fixed his gaze on her. “Perhaps you’ve grown attached to him for other reasons.”

“What?” She narrowed her eyes. “Look, whatever I feel for Seth Harper is none of your business. And he’s just a kid, for cryin’ out loud. Like I said before, I consider him a friend.”

“He’s not that much younger than you, Ms. Beckett.” He stopped and heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry. As you say, it’s none of my business.”

Jess wasn’t sure she was more concerned about the fact he’d done his homework on her age or that the man had speculated on a relationship between her and Harper. And she got the distinct feeling he wouldn’t approve. The man was damned protective.

Glancing toward the window, Humphries looked lost in his memory.

“Seth may look young, but he had to grow up fast,” he said. “And he’s quite practiced at keeping secrets, but I often wonder what personal price he’s paid for that privilege. Forgive me if I’ve overstepped.”

“So you’ve known him for a long time?”

“Long enough,” the man replied, reaching his tolerance for her prying. “I wanted to meet you…and to tell you I will assist if I can, now that he’s asked for my help. But beyond that, I won’t betray his confidence. I hope you understand.”

Harper sure had a way of garnering unflinching loyalty from his friends, if Humphries could be counted as one. She had no idea how this man fit into Harper’s life, yet he clearly held her boy genius in high regard. She saw it in his eyes.

“And I hope you understand, Mr. Humphries. Just because you have limits to what you’ll share about Harper doesn’t mean I won’t find out what you’re hiding. You’ve drawn a line in the sand where your cooperation ends, but as far as I’m concerned, areas marked as off-limits only make me more curious.”

He pursed his lips and clenched his jaw, keeping his annoyance in check.

“Tell me, Mr. Humphries. Were you aware of Seth’s connection with the murder victim, Amanda Vincent?” By the disapproving look on the man’s face, she knew what his answer would be.

“Yes, I was. But like I said, I won’t betray his confidence.”

She smiled.

“I may not have known Harper as long as you, but for a guy who likes his secrets, I have a hard time believing he’d confide in you about her. You don’t look very open-minded when it comes to drug-addicted hookers.” When Humphries grimaced at her choice of words, she backed off the attitude. “The truth is, I would have been concerned for him, too.”

He clearly did not approve of Seth’s involvement with Mandy. And she couldn’t blame him. But how far would he go to protect Seth from himself? And what about the man with the real clout, the one Humphries worked for? Did he feel the same?

“Yes, well, I think we understand each other. Here’s my card.” He handed her his business card with a sad expression on his face. “I know I have no right to ask this, but I’d appreciate a call if you learn something new.”

“I can’t make any promises. And I won’t betray his confidence either.”

“Have a good day, Ms. Beckett.” In civil fashion, Jonathan Humphries gave her the boot.

Perhaps he only wanted to meet her, to size her up for himself. She wasn’t complaining. His curiosity had given her the same opportunity. And having one more link to Harper got her closer to answers. She headed for the door to his office, but something made her turn around.

“There is one thing.” Jess had no idea why she was in a sharing mood, but something in the way Humphries talked about Harper warmed her up to the notion. “The police took a blood sample from Seth that might help his case. Getting a quick turnaround on that tox screen sure wouldn’t hurt.”

She shrugged and left the man’s office without waiting for a response, heading back the way she’d come. But when she walked by the door to the small-yet-spotless break room, she noticed an employee bulletin board and wandered in to check it out, playing a hunch.

Humphries struck her as someone who would take his job seriously, going above and beyond his normal duties to see that his ship ran smoothly. A captain with enough resolve to go down with his sinking vessel rather than being the first rat off the ship. And it wouldn’t be a stretch to think he’d be the gatekeeper to anyone above him, but how Harper fit into the puzzle was still a mystery.

She scanned the notices posted on the corkboard. Nothing stood out, except for one thing.

All employee notices were on the letterhead of Pinnacle Real Estate Corporation. Something about the name clicked with her, but not enough for the fog to clear from her memory.

“Can I help you?” A woman’s voice came from behind her.

Jess turned and came face-to-face with the humorless administrative assistant to Jonathan Humphries.

“I was just looking to see if you had any openings.” Jess grinned. “’Cause I can totally see me working here.”

Surprisingly, the woman humored her with a smile, one of those enigmatic Mona Lisa numbers. “Come on, I’ll show you out.”

When she got to the door that led to the lobby, the woman let her pass, and added, “Tell Seth…let him know he’s in our prayers.”

More than a little speechless, Jess nodded and watched as the woman shut the door. Seth had a family here. People who didn’t believe for one second that he could murder anyone. They knew a hell of a lot more about him and were willing to keep his secret. And Jess had a feeling she hadn’t even scratched the surface of what that secret might be.

As Jess climbed into the van in the parking garage, her cell phone rang. She recognized the number.

“Yeah, Sam. What’s up?”

“Harper has got a bail hearing in an hour, give or take, depending on the docket. Thought you’d want to be there.”

“An hour?” Even time was conspiring against Seth. Getting out on bail was a long shot at best, but without that tox result, the odds of him seeing daylight anytime soon just got shot to hell.

Sam gave her the particulars, and continued, “The DA wants Harper remanded without bail. They plan to argue he’s a flight risk due to his sketchy background with no apparent ties to the community. And with the strong evidence they have against him and the brutal nature of the crime, they can make a convincing argument he’s a danger to the community. Even his big, brown, puppy-dog eyes won’t help. It doesn’t look good that he’ll be out of jail anytime soon.”

“Thanks, Sam. I’m on my way. And I’ll call you later to let you know what happened.” But Jess wasn’t hopeful Harper would be with her when she made that call, even if she could scrounge up bail.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Sam interrupted. “I looked into the police records for Beladi and Pinzolo. These are two nasty dudes. Beladi runs hookers and sells drugs, but he’s real cagey, and some of his business dealings are legit. The DA has had a hard time making an arrest stick. And Pinzolo is his muscle, suspected in more than one murder. We may never know if Beladi was Desiree’s pimp or dealer, but if Harper got between her and Beladi, he may have crossed paths with the wrong guy. And now, you have, too. Watch your backside, Jess.”

“Oh, great. And here I thought Fugitive Recovery was a great way to meet people.” She shook her head. “Call me when you know something more. And thanks, Sammie.”

Jess ended the call and put the key in the ignition to start the van. Seth’s blue monster. Driving his car—the one he had given her out of kindness—made her feel her connection to him all the more. The guy didn’t have a malicious bone in his body. And forcing him to stay in jail while he waited for trial would drain what was left of his spirit. She had already seen the damage from his incarceration over a weekend.

“Damn it, Harper. You gotta let your friends help you.” She headed for the exit and the courthouse at 26th and California Avenue. “Who the hell are you protecting?”

Cook County Criminal Courthouse

Being held in the Cook County Jail, Harper was a block down from one of the busiest felony courthouses in the country—
only a short hike to public humiliation
.

Jess had parked her car in a pay lot on a nearby street, not knowing how long she’d be waiting for Harper’s bail hearing. After securing her Colt Python in the glove compartment of the van, she stood in line with the masses for the metal detector and finally made her way to the room where Harper would be taken. The wood-paneled courtroom was packed with the ebb and flow of concerned parties for every case heard before Judge Joseph Bellinger, the presiding judge of the criminal division.

Overworked public defenders with their bland expressions handled one case after another. Prisoners wore civilian clothes or DOC jumpsuits and were brought in from a side entrance. Family members and other interested parties crammed the small room. Controlled chaos.

Dressed in a red prison jumpsuit, Harper was escorted into the room. Jess craned her neck to get a better look at him and tried catching his eye. When that didn’t work, she stood. Seth looked dazed, but eventually he found her standing toward the back of the room. He locked his gaze on her and with a subtle shake of his head, she knew he wished she hadn’t come, but the kid was scared.
Really scared.

When his lawyer sidled up next to him, Harper turned around and lowered his head, and the proceedings began as she sat back down.

Handing the judge a case file, a court clerk said loud enough for the courtroom to hear, “Docket number 34521 People v Seth Harper, voluntary manslaughter.”

The judge flipped through the filing papers and cleared his throat.

“Voluntary manslaughter,” Judge Bellinger repeated the charge without looking up. “What’s your plea, Mr. Harper?”

Seth kept his head down, barely looking up at the man in the black robe. Jess could only imagine the terrible blur his life had become. And today was another sickening spiral of degradation.

“Not guilty, Your Honor.”

Jess barely heard his voice through all the commotion near her. After Harper choked out his plea, the judge asked for the People to present the evidence against him. Stacy Nichols, a slender blonde in a rust-colored suit spoke up, a young attorney with the DA’s Office trying to make her mark. She knew of the woman and her ruthless reputation. Ruthless in a prosecutor was a good thing normally, as far as Jess was concerned, but not when directed at Harper.

“He was found with the body in a motel room, and he was covered in blood, Your Honor. A bloody handprint at the scene was identified as belonging to the defendant,” the ADA said. “The People have strong and sufficient evidence against Mr. Harper, and we consider him a flight risk. He’s got no ties here, and given the heinous nature of the crime, he’s a danger to the community. We recommend he be remanded without bail, Your Honor.”

Harper jerked his head up for a moment and stared at the woman but quickly dropped his chin to his chest. It broke Jess’s heart to see him look so defeated.

The public defender appeared disorganized as he fumbled through paperwork. The older man in a rumpled suit looked burned-out and jaded, having seen far too many days as a public defender to be an effective advocate for Harper. Jess knew her first impression of the man wasn’t fair, but she hated to see her friend not get a fair shake when he needed it most. Harper would have an uphill battle even if he had the best mouthpiece money could buy.

“I just got assigned this case, Judge, but my client has no priors. And he’s…”

Before the man pleaded his hasty case for bail, a voice came from the back of the room and interrupted the proceedings.

“Please…may I interrupt, Your Honor?”

A tall, extraordinary-looking man with gray hair and riveting dark eyes came forward from the back of the room, dressed in a suit that screamed the word “money.” He walked with fluid grace and the confidence of a wealthy man used to getting his way. And his deep baritone voice exuded poise, enough to make the judge look up.

“And who might you be?” he asked. “Please state your business before this court.”

“My name is Anthony Salvatore. I’m a local business developer in town. My holdings are under the name of Pinnacle Real Estate Corporation.”

When Jess heard the man’s name, she knew exactly who he was, and by the look on the judge’s face, he did, too.