Duplicity, page 11
A few more minutes passed. Brick recognized the futility of lying awake with his mind racing. He turned on the light and glanced at the stack of books on his nightstand. He picked up a worn paperback copy of The Deep Blue Good-By. Maybe Travis McGee would be the distraction he needed tonight. A few pages into the fourth chapter, the book slipped from his hand and hit the floor.
While Ron was taking a shower, Brick turned on the morning news. As he expected, there was coverage of the vigil, but it wasn’t the lead story. A multi-vehicle accident on the Beltway had turned rush hour into a commuting nightmare. When the segment on the vigil aired, it focused briefly on the candle lighting and then displayed a photo of Jasmine and a contact phone number for the Missing Persons Unit. Brick was relieved that the separation between Ron and Jasmine’s family wasn’t obvious although that didn’t mean Stella Owen wouldn’t notice. It was likely she’d have her flunkies scrutinizing the news footage for anything she could use to keep viewers tuning in to hear her nightly update and commentary.
Brick turned the TV off and headed to the kitchen. He put a bagel in the toaster while he waited for a cup of tea to steep, three minutes for Irish breakfast. He was still thinking about the brief conversation he’d overheard last night. He couldn’t help but wonder about the relationship between Ron and Holly, but he was hesitant to come right out and ask. At least for now.
“Hey, Brick.” Ron was looking down at his phone and didn’t make eye contact when he walked into the kitchen. “Did you see the text from the lieutenant?”
Brick patted his pants pocket and realized he’d left his phone in the bedroom. “No, what’s up?”
“She wants to see us ASAP.”
“Any indication—”
“No.”
Brick sensed the anxiety Ron must be feeling. He finished chewing his bagel. “Okay, give me ten minutes.”
Taking an Uber to Judiciary Square saved the time of trying to find a parking space. As they had done many times in the past, Brick and Ron climbed the steps of Police Headquarters together. Once inside, they passed through the metal detector and took the elevator to the Homicide Squad offices on the third floor. As they exited, Lieutenant Hughes made her way down the hallway from the direction of the break room. She had a bag of Cheetos in one hand and a can of Dr Pepper in the other.
Brick held the door leading to the reception area and motioned for the lieutenant and Ron to enter.
“Jenny Craig can go to hell.” Lieutenant Hughes smiled at Brick but still had the guilty look of a kid caught with a hand in the cookie jar.
Brick and Ron followed Hughes to her office where the two detectives from the Missing Persons Unit were seated at the conference table.
“Have a seat, guys.” Lieutenant Hughes poured her soda into a glass and took a sip. “Okay, Baltimore PD Crime Lab ran tests on the infant seat they retrieved from the harbor. Turns out what appeared to be bloodstains were fake. The kind of theatrical stuff used at Halloween and, I don’t know, zombie walks.”
“What kind of bullshit is that!” Ron reared back in his chair. “Oh, sorry, Lieutenant.”
“No need to apologize—my reaction was a whole lot stronger. Although once the reality set in, I was encouraged that it isn’t human blood. This was a ruse, and I can come up with some possible explanations. Sorry, Ron, the one that makes the most sense to me—and I know this is hard to hear—is that this was deliberately staged to send you a message which would inflict as much pain as possible.”
Ron blurted, “What do you mean?”
She continued, “Since the birth of the twins, has Jasmine’s behavior been erratic?”
Ron didn’t answer immediately. He shifted in his seat. “Sometimes, in fact often, she definitely seemed overwhelmed and sad, but I wouldn’t say erratic.”
“Did she ever talk about or even threaten to take the babies and leave?”
“No … never.”
Lieutenant Hughes glanced around the table. “Any ideas?”
Detective Dixon from Missing Persons spoke up. “We sometimes see this sort of vindictive stuff in nasty divorce and child custody cases. One spouse trying to hurt the other.”
“That doesn’t sound like Jasmine.” Ron shook his head. “She just wouldn’t do something like that.”
Brick kept his thoughts to himself. It was easier for him to be more objective than Ron, and he didn’t share his certainty that Jasmine wasn’t responsible. Over the years on the job, he had seen too many things he never would have imagined committed not by strangers, but by people who vowed to love and honor each other. There were questions he wanted to ask Ron and something he needed to reveal but not in front of the group assembled here.
“Does anyone have anything else to discuss?” Lieutenant Hughes glanced around the table.
“I do.” Detective Taylor leaned forward in Ron’s direction. “Does Jasmine have her own bank account?”
“Yes. We both contribute to a joint household checking account. At least Jasmine did when she was still teaching. And we have a joint savings account, not that there’s much in it now. We also have our own accounts.”
“So far, there’s been no activity on her credit cards. Have you noticed anything on the joint bank accounts?”
“No.”
“Okay, is your name on her personal account?”
Ron shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure.”
“Can you check with the bank? If your name is on it, with your permission, we can access the account. Otherwise, we’ll have to subpoena the records to see if there’s been any activity.”
As far as Brick was concerned, hearing that there hadn’t been any activity on Jasmine’s credit cards could be significant. If she had been abducted, it wouldn’t be surprising for the perpetrator to start using her cards or sell them on the black market. And if she left on her own, it was likely she would eventually need to use the cards herself. Mastercard may provide a break the investigation desperately could use. There were, of course, other possibilities. She wouldn’t need cash or credit cards if someone else was footing the expenses. Not good for any future relationship with Ron, but a better scenario than the obvious explanation Brick didn’t want to consider.
“Excuse me, Lieutenant.” Hughes’s secretary stepped into the room. “There’s a call for you on line two.”
“Thanks, I’ll take it at your desk.” She left the room for a few minutes. By the look on the lieutenant’s face when she returned, it was apparent to Brick that she was not pleased about something. “Okay, guys, that’s all I have for now. Baltimore PD has been good about sharing information. So, I trust they’ll keep me informed. What I know, you’ll know.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“HOW ABOUT IF I pick up a couple of sandwiches.” Brick handed Ron the keys to the condo as he closed the door to the cab. “An Italian sub?”
“Yeah … sure, whatever.” Ron turned and walked away, his head down and eyes focused on the sidewalk. He kicked at some leaves covering his path.
Brick crossed the street and headed north on Connecticut Avenue to a small strip of mixed-used businesses. Located next to a Kinko’s was a family-owned sandwich shop. Brick had discovered Dino’s Deli twenty years ago when he was a rookie cop. Even though the third generation of the Palladino family was now in charge, the family patriarch was usually there. Today was no exception.
“Hey, Brick.” Angelo sat at a small table in the corner. “Long time, no see.”
Brick stopped in front of the table and shook hands with Angelo. Close to ninety and bearing a striking resemblance to Uncle June on The Sopranos, his grip was surprisingly strong. “Angelo, how have you been?”
“So so, but still above ground. Can’t complain.”
Brick and Angelo talked Nationals baseball for a few minutes before Brick stepped up to the counter and ordered two subs. Like most of his diet, not exactly heart-healthy but Brick justified his choice rationalizing that the benefits from olive oil would counteract the damage done by the salami and provolone. Magical thinking, but Angelo was living proof that something was working.
“Take it easy, Angelo.”
Angelo raised a small cup that may have contained espresso. His hand shook slightly. “You do the same and don’t be a stranger.”
After lunch, Brick decided it was time to tackle the questions that he had postponed asking. Over the years, Brick had interviewed hundreds of witnesses and suspects. No matter how personal or intrusive the questions, it was possible to maintain professional disinterest when talking to a total stranger. This was different. Already before asking the first question, it felt awkward. He knew he had to maintain a neutral position so he didn’t influence how Ron responded. For the moment, he decided to hold off mentioning Holly.
“Ron, still nothing from Marcus?”
“Not a word. I can’t believe he hasn’t talked to someone from the church who would have told him about the vigil. I mean, even if he’s at some kind of religious retreat, it’s not like he’d be locked up in an isolated monastery. It’s his church, man, and he’s the head honcho. I don’t get it. When he’s away he’s got to stay in touch with his staff.”
“One would think.” Even though Brick agreed, it occurred to him that Ron was ignoring what seemed like an obvious possibility. Then again, Ron hadn’t seen what Brick did in the church parking lot. “Ron, this didn’t seem significant at the time, and maybe it isn’t now, but on the day of the twins’ christening, I was crossing the parking lot and saw Jasmine crying.”
A muscle in Ron’s jaw started to twitch. “Was she by herself?”
“No, she was with Marcus. It appeared he was comforting her. Like I said, I didn’t think much about it, but then you said they had dated and now—”
Ron shook his head. “No, no way. Okay, Jasmine had reason to be pissed at me, but no, she wouldn’t turn to Marcus …”
Brick waited but Ron didn’t finish his thought. “I remember Jasmine seemed upset when she couldn’t find the babies’ pacifiers. Is that really what she was pissed about?”
Ron rolled his sandwich wrapper into a tight ball. “No.” He pushed back from the table and got up. He stood in front of the window, his back toward Brick.
“Ron, I know this is hard, but you’ve got to consider every possibility. C’mon, talk to me.”
Ron started pacing in front of the dining room window. “The night before the christening, we had an argu … well, actually, Jasmine had a meltdown.”
“Over what?” Brick asked.
Ron sat back down. “A text.”
Brick grabbed another Coke from the fridge. He had a feeling this was going to take a while. He poured half of the soda into his glass and offered the rest to Ron.
“It was late.” Ron took a swig from the can of Coke. “I was asleep when my phone pinged. Jasmine was awake so she picked it up.” Ron gripped the soda can and avoided eye contact with Brick. “You met Holly, right?”
Brick nodded although Ron probably didn’t notice. “Yes, at the vigil.”
“Okay, the text, well actually it was a photo, and it was from Holly … but it wasn’t meant for me.” Ron swallowed hard. “She meant to send it to her boyfriend.” He shifted in his seat. “Holly is into Comic Con and this was a costume she was thinking of wearing. I don’t know much about what goes on at those conventions, but her outfit was definitely X-rated.” Ron took a deep breath, then another before continuing. “Jasmine went ballistic. I tried to calm her down, but she wasn’t having it. She was yelling at me and woke up the twins. Jayla and Jamal started crying so she went to check on them. On the way out of the room, she threw the phone at me.”
Brick waited as Ron finished the can of Coke and tossed it in the direction of the recycle bin, missing by several inches.
“I picked up my phone and texted Holly asking why she sent me the photo. At first, she didn’t know what I was talking about. When she realized her mistake, she was so embarrassed and kept apologizing.”
Brick thought about what Ron had said. He could easily relate to sending a text to the wrong person. He’d done it himself; more times than he liked to admit. But had this really been an innocent mistake? And what about last night’s overheard phone call?
“That definitely explains why Jasmine was upset. What happened next?”
“Not much. She spent the rest of the night in the babies’ room. Slept in the rocker. The next morning, she barely spoke to me until we got to the church. Then we tried to act like nothing was wrong. Except for the incident with the pacifiers, I thought we pulled it off. Guess I was wrong.”
“Ron, you know the old saying about ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.’ It’s easy to understand why Jasmine was angry.”
“But I tried to explain that Holly made a mistake. It wasn’t a big deal until Jasmine turned it into one.”
“C’mon, Ron. If the situation were reversed and Jasmine got a dick pic from a coworker by mistake, you’d be cool with that? Not the least bit suspicious?” Brick waited for a response, but Ron said nothing. “No doubt, Jasmine figured it was late-night sexting intended for you. Is it any wonder she felt betrayed?”
“I’m telling you, it wasn’t my fault. I can’t control how Jasmine responded and now from what you said, sounds like she didn’t waste any time turning to Marcus for comfort.”
Brick heard the disdain in Ron’s voice but wasn’t sure whether it was directed at Marcus or Jasmine. Most likely both.
“What more could I do? If only she would have listened to what I was saying, maybe none of this would have happened.”
“Level with me, Ron. What’s your relationship with Holly?”
“Coworkers … friends.”
“Friends with benefits?”
Ron shook his head. “It’s not like that.”
“Is that a denial?” Again, Brick waited for a response but didn’t receive one. “Ron, last night I came out of the bathroom around midnight. I overheard you talking on the phone to Holly.” Brick deliberately paused and tried to read Ron’s reaction, but his expression hadn’t changed, revealing nothing. “Look, I don’t know who called who and I don’t care. I don’t care if you were screwing Holly every hour on the half. But I want to make myself perfectly clear, I do care if you’re lying to me.”
Ron locked eyes with his former partner and mentor. “Fuck you, Brick!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CONSIDERING THE NUMBER of times Brick had dropped an f-bomb, it would have been hypocritical to be offended by someone else’s use of the expletive. Still, hearing the word directed at him, not by a surly suspect in handcuffs, but instead by Ron, caught him off guard, and it stung. There was no mistaking Ron’s anger, but was it because Brick had questioned his integrity or was Ron being defensive when it came to Holly. Although Brick’s encounter with her had been brief, there was something about it that had been off putting. There was more to be said, but not until cooler heads prevailed. Brick grabbed his jacket, sunglasses, and keys and left his apartment.
Boland’s Mill was his original destination, but when Brick got there, he changed his mind before going inside. He wasn’t in the mood to be sociable. He continued north on Connecticut Avenue until he reached the entrance to the National Zoo. It had been several months since he had watched the Sumatran cubs playing under the watchful eye of their mother. On the way to see them, he passed the Reptile House without stopping. When it came to snakes, he shared the sentiments of Indiana Jones.
Brick replayed in his mind what Ron had revealed. There was a time when he felt more confident in his ability to read people. All that changed with one case—the last case he worked as a homicide detective. Now, just like then, the stakes couldn’t be higher. Lives were hanging in the balance.
Was Ron telling the truth? As a friend, Brick wanted to believe him. As a former detective, he wasn’t sure. But he was sure that Ron’s explanation to Jasmine didn’t convince her that Holly had made an innocent mistake. Had she really turned to her current pastor and former boyfriend for comfort? Were the two of them and the twins hiding out somewhere? Or given Jasmine’s fragile postpartum mental state, did her belief that Ron was cheating send her over the edge? To punish Ron and inflict as much pain as she possibly could, did she harm the twins and herself? That thought gave Brick a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Excuse me!”
Brick didn’t realize how distracted he was until he almost collided with a stroller, earning a dirty look from the woman pushing it.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Brick stepped aside and let the woman and stroller pass. He glanced around to get his bearings and followed the arrow pointing in the direction of Tiger Hill.
The three cubs had doubled in size from when Brick last saw them. He recalled that afternoon back in April and ironically Ron had met him here with a confidential file he had surreptitiously copied. Most likely the file was gathering dust, but Ron could have gotten into serious trouble for what he did. Still, he didn’t hesitate when Brick needed the favor. Two of the cubs wrestled while the other was stretched out soaking up the late afternoon sun. Brick took a couple of photos and texted them to Nora. With all that was happening, it seemed like the Chicago trip had been weeks ago when it really had only been a few days.
Brick checked the time. Watching the cubs had provided a respite from the confrontation with Ron and he had spent longer at the zoo then he had realized. The thought of a Guinness was appealing, but happy hour was already in full swing, and he still wasn’t up for socializing. A noisy bar, even Boland’s Mill, wasn’t cutting it tonight.
As Brick approached his building, he wasn’t sure what to expect. It was possible Ron had packed up and left. Before going inside, he checked the parking lot. Ron’s car was where Brick had parked it last night. When he opened the apartment door, Brick heard the voice of Jim Vance, the longtime news anchor on WRC-TV, and the acrid smell of burned popcorn filled his nostrils. Ron was sitting on the sofa, remote in hand.
