Duplicity, page 8
“You’re worried she might harm herself or the twins.” Brick felt like someone needed to address the elephant in the room and he took the initiative.
Ron nodded as a single tear slowly rolled down the side of his face.
“When we had lunch, you said Jasmine wasn’t taking any medication. Is that still the case?”
“Yeah. Just the other day I said to her, why don’t you talk to your doctor about getting something for your mood swings. I figured there must be something she could take that would still be safe for the babies.” Ron looked down as he shook his head. “She wouldn’t consider it. I know I should have insisted, but she was already upset, and I didn’t want to make it worse.” Ron sighed loudly. “I figured it was just messed-up female hormones and they’d get straightened out eventually.”
Brick would never claim to be an expert on the subject of female hormones, but just after joining the Homicide Squad he gained a new perspective while investigating a case where a mother smothered her three-month-old infant. What seemed like baffling human behavior started to make sense when a psychiatrist explained that while it was common for new mothers to experience “baby blues,” some developed postpartum depression. In rare cases, this can transform into a severe psychosis, which could have tragic results. Brick had seen that firsthand, and it was something he would never forget. Had Jasmine’s depression progressed to psychosis? It was a thought weighing heavy on Brick’s mind but something he intended to keep to himself, at least for now. The only way to know for sure was to find Jasmine, and every hour that passed with her still missing raised the stakes.
Ron wiped his nose and sniffled. “I haven’t washed in two days and I know I stink.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll leave my phone with you … just in case.”
When Ron headed up the stairs, Lieutenant Hughes returned to the kitchen. “I thought it was better to give Ron a chance to talk to you without me being present.”
“I figured as much. He went upstairs to take a shower.”
Brick’s grumbling stomach reminded him that a bag of peanuts on the plane was his last meal. He helped himself to one of the subs. Just as he closed the refrigerator door, the kitchen seemed to explode with the sound of Darius Rucker singing “Wagon Wheel.”
“What the … oh, it’s Ron’s phone.” Brick dove across the table and grabbed the cell phone and hit accept. Lieutenant Hughes looked on anxiously as Brick listened to what turned out to be a recorded message. He hung up and set the phone aside. “Buybuy-baby is having a sale this weekend. Twenty-five percent off on strollers and car seats.”
“Oh my God, robocalls should be outlawed.”
Brick agreed as he unwrapped a ham and Swiss cheese sandwich. “I wasted perfectly good adrenaline on that. What I was about to say before the country music concert is that it’s really tough to see Ron like this. I get the sense he feels guilty for not taking her depression more seriously.”
“That’s understandable, but he shouldn’t beat up on himself.” Lieutenant Hughes opened the Krispy Kreme box and reached for another glazed doughnut. “I can’t speak from personal experience, but I think it would be easy to minimize or overlook things while concentrating on caring for two babies. Plus, Jasmine and Ron are first-time parents—everything is new. Right now, it still looks like Jasmine left on her own, but we don’t know that for sure, and we can’t rule anything out.”
“True. Kidnapping is unlikely given Ron and Jasmine aren’t high-profile or wealthy, but a carjacking can’t be overlooked as a possibility.”
“Or she could have been involved in an accident,” Hughes suggested. “Maybe ran off the road in a remote area.”
“Although from what Ron has said in the past, Jasmine limited her driving to trips to the store, doctor appointments, or visiting her mother and sister. He said she hated driving on the Beltway and I-95.”
“I don’t blame her for that. My idea of hell is circling the Beltway for eternity.”
Brick wished the lieutenant hadn’t said that just as he took a bite of his sandwich. He started to laugh and almost choked. Joking at a time that might seem inappropriate was typical among the cops Brick had worked with. It was what kept them sane. He just didn’t expect it from the lieutenant.
“We’ve notified all the emergency rooms in D.C., Virginia, and Maryland in case she shows up, but so far, nothing.” Lieutenant Hughes lifted the lid on the box of donuts but stopped and closed it before choosing another one. “The last time I worked a missing persons case was four or five years ago and I’ve forgotten how frustrating it is. My way of coping—junk food.”
“Healthier than cigarettes.”
“Good point. Hope my lungs appreciate my choice, even if my hips don’t.” She reopened the box and chose the last jelly donut.
“This is tough. At least working a homicide, you have a definite starting point and a protocol to follow,” Brick said. “Here it’s a waiting game and it’s like every minute is an hour.”
“Speaking of which, I have no idea what time it is.” Lieutenant Hughes checked her watch. “Whoa, I have a meeting at headquarters in four hours and I probably should change my clothes. Maybe even grab a power nap beforehand. Can you stay with Ron for a while?”
Brick nodded. “Sure, I’ll think of it as other duties as assigned.”
Lieutenant Hughes looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“You can add that to the Memorandum of Understanding covering the cold case.”
“Oh, of course, the cold case project. For a minute, I was actually thinking you were still with Homicide. Brain fog, probably from all the sugar in my system. See why I need a nap?”
She headed toward the door just as her cell phone rang. Lieutenant Hughes reached into her pocket, retrieved the phone, and held it up to her ear. The serious look on her face gave Brick an uneasy feeling. A minute or two later, she slipped her phone back into her pocket and turned in Brick’s direction.
“They’ve found Jasmine’s car.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
FINDING JASMINE’S CAR was, without a doubt, a very significant development, but Brick resisted the temptation to bombard the lieutenant with all the questions rolling around in his head. The two detectives from the Missing Persons Unit stopped what they were doing. Three pairs of eyes were trained on Lieutenant Hughes.
“Okay, this is what I know and it’s not much. Jasmine’s car was found in the long-term parking lot at BWI Airport. Maryland State Police have responded.”
Michael Taylor leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “Fuck me. Oh, sorry, Lieutenant, but nothing good happens in long-term parking lots. I don’t like the sound of that.”
“The sound of what?”
Brick turned when he heard Ron’s voice coming from the kitchen. A second or two later, Ron joined the others in the living room. He was barefoot and had changed into a pair of jeans and a wrinkled Washington Nationals tee shirt. “I said, the sound of what?”
Lieutenant Hughes didn’t sugarcoat what she had to say. “Jasmine’s car has been found at BWI, the long-term parking lot.”
Ron’s legs trembled as he reached for the edge of the sofa and sunk down onto one of the cushions.
“What about Jasmine … the twins?”
The panic in Ron’s voice sent chills down Brick’s spine. Several possibilities ran through his head and none of them were good.
Lieutenant Hughes moved a sofa pillow and sat next to Ron. “I wish I had more information, but I don’t. The Maryland State Police are investigating, and they’ll need to get a search warrant.”
“And that takes time.” Suddenly Ron jumped up. “I’m not going to just sit here and wait. I need to be there.”
“Ron, listen to me. There’s no point in you going to BWI.” The irony of the current role reversal wasn’t lost on Brick. He understood his former partner’s anguish because he’d been in a similar situation and not that long ago. At that time, Ron was the one thinking clearly and providing a sensible approach for what needed to be done. Brick was trying to reciprocate accordingly. “The Maryland Police aren’t going to tell you anything and they’re not going to let you anywhere near the car.”
“Brick’s right.” Lieutenant Hughes spoke but at the same time appeared to be scrolling through something on her phone. She got up and walked over to the table where the two detectives were seated. “I need your computer for a minute.” Carrie Dixon got up and Hughes took her place. With no one saying anything, the only sound in the room was the clicking of the keyboard as the lieutenant typed quickly, stopping only to make notes on a slip of paper. “Okay, I’ve found what I was looking for.” She picked up the paper and her phone and headed to the kitchen, closing the door behind her.
“BWI … what the hell? Why would she go there? The only time Jasmine and I have been to that airport was when we went to Miami on our honeymoon.”
“Ron, does Jasmine have a passport?” Detective Taylor asked.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m her husband. If anyone would know … it would be me. Right?”
Brick had spent enough time with Ron to know his outburst was out of character. It really wasn’t directed at Taylor; he just happened to be the convenient target. If the roles were switched, Brick may well have posed the same question. There was no mistaking that nerves and emotions were raw, and Brick suspected things might get a whole lot worse. If he had learned anything from his years of being a cop, it was that no matter how well you think you are prepared to handle a situation, you may not be at all. And this one had all the makings of a challenge he’d never imagined being part of.
“Ron, I’m not trying to give you a hard time, it’s just we have to think of every possibility,” Detective Taylor said.
Ron turned in Taylor’s direction. “Yeah, I know, sorry, man. I don’t have a passport and as far as I know, she doesn’t either, but what the hell do I know. I’m not sure of anything anymore.”
“Okay, here’s the plan.” Lieutenant Hughes emerged from the kitchen looking confident. “I’ve talked to a contact at Baltimore PD and he called in a favor for me.” She pointed toward Detectives Taylor and Dixon. “I need you two to head up to BWI and observe. Obviously, we don’t have jurisdiction, but the state police will know who you are and why you’re there. And, of course, you’ll let me know everything ASAP.”
What Brick saw wasn’t all that different from his meeting with the lieutenant at Starbucks just over a week ago. Then the dutiful daughter had to handle a family crisis. Now, another crisis and in many ways, it seemed the lieutenant considered the detectives she supervised like extended family. This was quintessential Lieutenant Sonia Hughes. Her reputation for taking charge and grace under pressure was well earned. The two detectives picked up their laptops and were about to leave.
“Wait a minute.” Ron turned and faced the lieutenant. “If all they’re going to do is stand around and watch, then there’s no reason why I can’t go along.”
“Ron, there’s lots of reasons why that’s not happening.” She signaled to Taylor and Dixon to leave. “You may not agree with me, you may be angry with me, but you need to trust me. I know what’s best for you right now.”
Ron ran his hand through his dreads and appeared on the verge of breaking down again. He shrugged his shoulders. “Okay.” His voice was barely louder than a whisper. “The waiting is killing me. And it’s the empty cribs. Every time I walk past the nursery and see them, it’s like—” Ron squeezed his eyes shut. “It’s like a knife stabbing me in the heart.”
Until now, Brick hadn’t said much but felt compelled to speak up. “Ron, can you remotely monitor when someone is at your front door?”
“Yeah, I have an app on my phone.”
“Then there’s no reason you have to stay here, is there?”
Ron smirked. “Only that I don’t have any place else to go.”
“No family nearby?” Lieutenant Hughes asked.
Ron shook his head.
Brick knew what he had to do. “You can stay at my place. Granted it’s small and not exactly the Mayflower Hotel, but there’s a pull-out sofa bed in the den so you’ll have a place to sleep and some privacy.”
Ron seemed to consider the offer before nodding his head. “Yeah, okay for a day or two.” He stood up. “I need to pack some stuff.”
“Just a second, Ron. There’s one other thing,” Lieutenant Hughes said. “For the time being, I’m placing you on administrative leave. I need your badge and gun.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
AS THEY LEFT the house just before sunrise, Ron handed his car keys to Brick. While he drove, Ron called Jasmine’s family. Keeping them informed was something that absolutely had to be done, but Brick knew it was tough delivering news that would only add to their anxiety. Ron seemed to handle the call to his mother-in-law calmly and reassuringly, but speaking to his sister-in-law sounded like it was trying his patience.
“Yes, Tanisha. For the third time, I’ve told you what I know and as soon as I hear anything else, I will call you.” Without saying “goodbye,” he took the phone away from his ear but continued holding it in his hand as if expecting an incoming call any minute.
At a red light, Brick glanced over and saw that Ron had leaned back against the head rest and closed his eyes. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk and the silence suited Brick as well. He had been up for over thirty hours and was glad that once he turned onto Connecticut Avenue it was just over two miles to his place. Ten minutes later, he pulled into his reserved parking space behind his condo building, a four-story, bay-windowed brownstone on a quiet, tree-lined street.
Brick stopped to check his mailbox before he and Ron headed up the three flights to his apartment. No mail, which could mean one of two things: he really didn’t have any mail or what he should have received hadn’t been delivered. It was an all-too-common occurrence lately.
Brick hadn’t expected to have a house guest, and in the past when he did, it was a woman sharing his bed. Ron would be the first one to sleep on the pull-out sofa bed in the den. Given his height, his feet would probably hang over the end of the mattress, but Brick figured it wouldn’t matter. For now, having a place to stay without being surrounded by painful reminders everywhere he looked was what did matter.
“Ron, help yourself to anything in the kitchen. There’s a new set of sheets in the den closet, along with blankets and pillows. Towels are in there as well. If you need anything, let me know, but for now I have to get some sleep.”
Brick lowered the blinds in his bedroom in an attempt to block out the morning sun. He pulled back the bedspread, stripped down to his boxers, and crawled between the sheets. He closed his eyes and tried to conjure up the peaceful feeling he’d experienced walking along Lake Michigan with Nora. He wasn’t successful at first, but eventually, he drifted off into a fitful sleep.
The sound of the phone jarred Brick awake and for a minute he wasn’t sure where he was. Getting his bearings, he grabbed the phone from its place on the nightstand and hit accept before checking the caller ID.
“Here’s what I know.”
Lieutenant Hughes. Hearing her words plus seeing Ron standing in the doorway sent Brick’s heart rate soaring. Still, as he listened, he managed to maintain the neutral expression that had served him well when he testified in countless cases at Superior Court.
“Okay, I’ll tell him.” Brick set the phone down. “Ron, this much is good. The car is empty and there’s nothing obvious to indicate any foul play. The cops got a search warrant, so they were able to open the trunk. The spare tire and a folding double stroller were the only things they found.” Ron nodded slowly as Brick continued. “And it’s been on the lot since the day Jasmine went missing.”
“What about the car seats?” Ron asked.
“Just about to mention that. There was one installed in the back seat.”
“But there should be two.” Ron shook his head. “Why would there only be one?”
Brick knew the question was rhetorical. “The lieutenant said the car is being towed to the police impoundment lot so the crime scene techs can do forensics on it. Airline passenger lists are being checked, both domestic and international, and Jasmine’s photo is being shown to TSA officers who were working security check-in.”
“Okay, whatever.” Ron turned to walk away but stopped. “Back when I was with the Fifth District, I worked a missing kid’s case. I didn’t have a clue what the parents were going through, and I remember telling them to try to stay positive. I realize now how stupid I must have sounded.”
Although this was not the time to critique how Ron had handled the situation, Brick didn’t agree that Ron’s comment to the parents sounded stupid. Easier said than done but staying positive was often the only thing that got terrified family and friends through the day, or even, the next hour. And as far as not having a clue, Brick knew Ron well enough to know that wasn’t true. Being able to maintain professional distance, but at the same time having empathy, was something Ron brought to the job every day.
By the time Brick took a shower and got dressed, it was close to noon. He regretted the day was half over and the gray, cloudy sky matched his mood as he headed to Boland’s Mill. He asked Ron to join him but wasn’t surprised that he declined. Knowing that Rory usually worked the lunch shift, Brick wasn’t expecting to see Eamonn behind the bar.
“Guinness?” Eamonn asked as Brick draped his jacket over the back of a barstool.
“No, never a good idea on an empty stomach. I’ll have tomato juice and the Irish breakfast. Where’s Rory?”
“He’s at the dentist.” Eamonn started to laugh. “He and Kelly went away for the weekend. While they were having dinner, he bit into some crusty bread and his veneer popped off.”
“Hope he didn’t swallow it.” By the look on Eamonn’s face, Brick knew he had. He didn’t mean to laugh at Rory’s misfortune, but he couldn’t help it and he wasn’t alone, Eamonn joined in. “Guessing that made for an expensive weekend.”
