Unhinged (27 page)

Dorrick looked at me, then indicated with a nod for me to follow him outside. When we were both standing on the lawn, he got in my face with a menacing growl.

I stood as motionless as a French Quarter mime, unblinking, immune to his drama-queen tirades.

He circled me like a drill sergeant laying into one of his troops. “This is it. You fucked up the capture of Gene Lotz for the last time. You searched this house without a warrant, questioned a suspect without any witnesses. You've totally compromised this investigation. Even if we caught Spider now, most of the evidence would be inadmissible. You are the worst cop I've ever come across.”

“I fucked up the capture? You arrogant piece of shit. You've been the problem from the start.” I wondered how far I'd have to go before I crossed a line and got sucker punched. A man of Dorrick's power usually thought that the rules didn't apply to them.

Dorrick's voice dropped to barely a whisper. “You are so lucky I can't dispose of you. At least not right now.”

That statement sent a chill up my spine, but it had to be an idle threat.

He backed off a couple of inches and resumed his tirade, turning red in the face. “We had this house on stakeout. We were about to move in when we saw you enter. Thanks to you, Spider escaped out the back.”

“If you had the place covered, he wouldn't have gone anywhere.”

Dorrick opened his mouth to speak but shut it quickly.

“Are you making this shit up as you go?” I had some momentum. “What I think is that you knew I'd keep investigating and you followed me. I showed up here, and Gene Lotz's spider sense starts to tingle and he jets, leaving Donny holding the bag. What I don't understand is how Spider knew to run before I even pulled the car up to the curb. It's like he had a premonition or . . . a warning.”

Dorrick sized me up for a moment. “If you would have told someone—anyone—that you found out where Spider was hiding, then we would've had him. And I call that a fuckup. You fucked yourself, Detective. You hear me?” Then he faced the front door. “Zachary, get out here.”

Agent Zachary came out as ordered, standing near me with his arms folded. “Sir.”

“Take Detective Dupree to the office and put him in detention. Then come back here. When the warrant arrives, I'll begin in the house.” Dorrick turned, showing us his back.

He was right in one respect. I had fucked this up so badly that even though Dorrick had to wait outside until the warrant came, any court monkey would be able to tear this search and seizure to pieces.

“You're not going to put cuffs on me, are you?” I whispered, trying to be his buddy. Agent Zachary was a nice guy; it was obvious. I thought maybe it could be to my advantage. He made sure that Dorrick was facing the house and put his cuffs away, holding me by one arm as if I were his date.

“As long as you don't do anything to make me have to subdue you. You're not under arrest in the traditional sense as far as I know. The bureau will need a debriefing about how you found Spider's hideout, and if any charges for obstruction or hindering are warranted, they'll be brought against you at a later date.”

“I'm still waiting for the first hearing I was threatened with. Are these going into my permanent record?” I laughed as I shook my head.

I eased into his Celica and strapped myself in. I thought about Jennifer and Spider, both in the same city. Who knew how close to her he was now. I also wondered how long I was going to be detained. Perhaps I could find an ally in Agent Zachary instead of trying to trick him. I hoped he was still young enough to have values and a conscience. Doing the right thing could still mean something to him. I had to get him out of the mode of lackey and into the category of freethinker.

“What's your take on the case?” I asked. A Dave Matthews song was playing low in the back speakers.

“Gene Lotz is one sick individual. Maybe the worst in terms of child abuse that I've studied or come across.”

“Yeah, I've read about some pretty sick fucks in my time. What he's doing to these people is horrific, but there have been some worse cases.”

“A couple may be worse,” Zachary said, seeming to warm up a little. “Lotz's built-in survival mechanism has been strong to this point, but now I fear his urges are getting the best of him, and once he can't satisfy his cravings anymore, he's going to self-destruct. His childhood was too traumatic, too damaging.”

“What? The cigarette burns? The beatings? His mother told us his father abused him, but nothing that hasn't desensitized us as a society. I mean, every convict has an abuse story in one form or another.”

“How can you discount what she admitted on the video?”

My jaw dropped. Zachary's inexperience had just let me in on an important piece of information.

“You didn't see the interview tape of Greta Lotz? I thought you were present with the deputy director and Agent Wayne when they taped her?”

“No. I wasn't made aware of any video. I can't believe that bastard taped a statement without my knowledge.”

Zachary paled. “Maybe I'm speaking out of turn. I assumed it was common knowledge. Her tape gives a lot of insight into Spider's psychological development.”

“Can I view this tape? You can set me up when we get to your office.”

“I'm afraid I can't. You've been barred from any and all contact with anything or anyone having to do with this investigation. I wouldn't have even mentioned the video if I knew you weren't aware of it.”

“Great. In the meantime, my girlfriend's probably the next victim on his list.”

“Maybe I can put you at ease. I think it's safe to tell you that we have a man watching her. He's keeping his distance, respecting her privacy. He's there to make sure she gets around safely. We're hoping Gene Lotz does go after her; then he would be apprehended for sure. Whether you like it or not, your fiancée is bait.”

I didn't like hearing that, but having a Fed watching her did make me feel better. I made a mental note to go see Gene Lotz's mother again when and if they released me. If I couldn't see the tape, then I'd just have to get my information firsthand.

When we arrived at the field office, I was put in the same interrogation room, minus my guns.

Agent Zachary returned with a Coke and set it on the table. “An agent will stop by in about a half hour to get you something to eat if you'd like or let you use the facilities. Agent Dorrick and I will speak to you when we return. Try to make yourself comfortable.”

I waved and smirked as he shut the door. This was just perfect.

W
ho believes in history repeating itself? I do. Here we were again, just like a family reunion. Uncle Dorrick, the family bully who was on my ass again, Cousin Zachary, quiet and compliant, and me, the rebel punk who always embarrassed the family.

Dorrick stood in a corner with his arms folded like a prison guard. It was a position from where he could observe the whole room and also a position of no escape if I decided to drop him. My mouth was unusually dry, and I felt a little sick, wondering if there would ever again come a day when I would simply go home, grab a beer, and veg out on the couch. I guessed James Bond cool wasn't in my genes.

“Donny Packard told us you found Paulina. Why didn't you let someone know?” Dorrick's demeanor turned 180 degrees from when we had last spoken. Of course, we were being recorded again for official records.

“Has anyone pulled her out?” I asked. “I want to know exactly what happens to her remains. And don't tell her parents just yet. You should let me tell Jennifer and then let her tell her parents.”

Dorrick pushed himself off the wall and sat on the edge of the table in a fatherly manner. “Detectives Bienvenue and Landeaux pulled her out. One of our agents is searching the crime scene, although Katrina water and the animals didn't leave much. There will also be an autopsy. You see, we work as a team, law enforcement and the bureau. I'm curious. How did you figure out where Paulina's body was?”

I noticed how Dorrick changed his tone and intensity when it suited his needs. I truly wanted to piss him off. “I'm psychic, I guess. I used to have a tarot-card table in Jackson Square.”

“Don't crack wise,” Dorrick said like an old-time private dick in a bad movie, unfazed by my humor. “I'll make sure you never see the light of day again.”

“Now you're being a drama queen.” All I had left was my ability to irritate him.

He only returned a dead stare, waiting until I was ready to cooperate.

I certainly didn't like being on the other end of an interrogation. “It just clicked. I was remembering that night, and I got a hunch.”

“A hunch, huh? Like Marcy Latner was a hunch? You invaded another crime scene, possibly contaminating it. We're trying to keep you out of the press, as much for your benefit as for ours,” Dorrick said as if he were doing me a favor. “No one needs to know that you messed up again. Can you imagine the protests when people find out the NOPD let a serial killer escape time and time again? It's unheard of. It's a shame you have a problem with authority like your ex-partner. If you obeyed your superiors, you would have the makings of a good detective.”

“You see it your way. I'll see it mine.”

“There is no your way. You're not on this case anymore. We're going to find out from Packard where Lotz is hiding, and we're going to pick him up. We'll do whatever it takes, but he's not going to escape again because you won't be anywhere near him. I've talked to your captain. You're off the force. And I'm sure after a formal inquiry and investigation, you may even see jail time for obstruction.”

“I'm off the force,” I repeated with little emotion.

“You sound like you expected it. If you continue going it on your own, you will be arrested and transported to D.C. We're putting a tail on you, and if you make so much as a crooked fart, your sarcastic ass will be apprehended. If you talk to anyone you shouldn't be talking to, you'll be brought in. And if you withhold any information, then you'll be charged with obstruction. Am I explaining myself clearly?”

“Why not arrest me now?”

“The law says I can't.”

I laughed. “Since when do you follow the law?”

“Of course I can detain you indefinitely. Would you like that?”

I wanted to comment, but my mind told my mouth not to push it. I got up and walked toward the door.

Dorrick stopped me with a hand on my chest. We stared into each other's eyes, just inches from one another. His face remained expressionless, but his eyes were on fire. The message he was delivering to me was unmistakable. It was a powerful few seconds, and then he released a sigh and nodded at the door for me to leave.

I hoped he didn't notice that I had broke a sweat.

I called Jennifer to come get me as I began walking up Leon C. Simon. It was 8:45 p.m., and I was dragging ass. I made a second call to Captain Greenwood's home, and he confirmed everything. It was just another day at the office for him. He told me to turn in my badge and gun first thing in the morning.

This isn't happening,
I thought. I had invested too much time and effort getting where I was to have it all evaporate.

A light breeze brushed my face, cooling the sweat that had formed on my brow. I had to convince myself that things would right themselves in the end. The truth would come out in one of the many hearings Dorrick had promised. I'd expose the deputy director's inadequacies and ineptness to the president if I had to. I didn't care who Dorrick knew.

I stood near the corner of Franklin and Leon C. Simon where I told Jennifer to pick me up. She eventually pulled over in her Sable and tapped her horn. I got in and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Are you going to explain what's going on?” she asked. “Where's your car?”

“Just drive to Bucktown by Deanie's. I'll tell you where to go.” I paused. “I've been suspended—kicked off the force, really. Fired. The Feds are coming down hard on me. I accidentally figured out where Spider was hiding. I went there, but he fled before I could get to him. It was like he was tipped off or something.”