Black Bird: A Murder Mystery Suspense Thriller, page 10
“You got evidence to prove it?” asked Crow.
Daniels thought of the list of names and the contents of Ackerman’s box and wondered what Crow was searching for. The truth? Or proof of her father’s involvement? Was she protecting him? Or legitimately curious about the black bird theory?
“Nothing concrete yet,” said Rem.
Crow hesitated as if gauging their honesty. “Well, until you do, I can’t do much to help, and you know my thoughts about it. Until you can provide someone or something to back up your theory, it’s just a theory.” She regarded Rem. “And like it or not, Remalla. Monk is right. We’ve got no evidence other than you two that this man, Tex, even exists.”
“He exists, Captain,” said Daniels.
“He killed Cain,” said Rem, his voice taut. “And he’ll pay for what he did.”
“Just like Rhonda,” added Daniels, thinking of Marjorie.
“Just make sure the two of you don’t do something stupid. I don’t need vigilantes. This department has enough struggles as it is, and two cops finding justice on their own time is a stain not easily removed, so keep your noses clean. You got it?”
Daniels thought of his paid debt and Rem’s stolen gun. “We got it.”
“Monk’s a pain in the ass, but so are you guys.” Crow leaned back and swiveled in her seat. “I know Lozano put up with a lot from you, but don’t expect the same from me.”
“Perish the thought,” said Rem.
“Anything else you want to enlighten me with?” she asked.
Daniels straightened. It was now or never. “Actually, yes.” He paused. “Rem and I had an idea about how to bring Jerry in.”
“What’s that?”
Rem sat up. “We thought we might use Patricia.”
“For what?”
Daniels dove in. “We want to put out a news story that Patricia was attacked by two men who broke into her house and demanded to know Jerry’s location. They roughed her up and threatened her not to tell anyone, or they’d be back.”
Crow knitted her brow. “Is any of this true?”
“No,” said Rem. “But we spoke to Lexie Logan…”
“The reporter?”
“Yes,” said Rem. “She said she could contact a news station and let them know the scoop she had on Patricia’s attack. If Patricia verified the report and the station broadcasted the story, and if Jerry Lee saw it, he’d call and—”
Crow’s face clenched. “Absolutely not.”
Her reaction surprised Daniels. “Why not? We want to find Jerry. This is the way to do it.”
“What’s wrong with it?” asked Rem.
“You want to lie to the news and get Patricia Caruso to back up that lie? Do you know how stupid we would look if the lie were discovered?”
“Who said it would be discovered?” asked Rem.
“And what happens when a pesky reporter wants an update about who broke in and threatened Patricia Caruso? And when Sammy Caruso finds out someone accosted his daughter, what do you think he’s going to do? Nothing?”
“If it means finding Jerry Lee, then we can deal with Sammy Caruso, and any pesky reporters,” said Daniels.
“Apparently not,” said Crow. “Since you’re still involving Lexie Logan when I told you to leave her out of this investigation.”
“She offered to help,” said Rem, his voice rising. “That’s it.”
“And what happens if Jerry Lee isn’t watching the news, and this doesn’t work? Or, God forbid, he’s already dead. What happens then with this charade?”
Daniels did his best to keep his temper under control. “I think you’re overreacting.”
Crow scoffed. “And I think you two are under-reacting. You can’t do something like this without considering all the implications.”
“All the implications you’ve considered can be handled.” Rem bounced his knee again. “Or is your worry more about this coming back on you and making you look bad?”
“If we worried about failure all the time,” said Daniels, “we’d never solve a case.”
Crow rocked in her seat, but her eyes were like lasers. “Thank you for the advice, detective. I’ll take it under consideration.”
Daniels bit back a curse. “This is a good idea.”
“It will work,” added Rem. “Once Jerry hears about his mom, he’ll—”
“He’ll what?” Crow leaned over her desk. “Call his mother? Want to see her? Don’t you think whoever is looking for him will think the same? If that’s Rhonda, she’ll see the news report too. And she’ll be lying in wait for Jerry, just like you two.”
“We’ll be ready for that,” said Daniels. “We might even kill two birds with one stone and catch Rhonda.”
Crow made a sarcastic snort. “Rhonda, if she is who you say she is, has been playing you two from the start. You don’t think she’ll expect that?”
Rem stopped bouncing his knee and gripped the edge of the desk. “Why are you fighting us on this? Don’t you want us to find Jerry Lee?”
“Of course I do,” she said. “But not like this.” She fell back into her seat. “Find a better way.” Her jaw tightened. “And leave Lexie Logan out of it.”
Daniels sat in stunned silence. “We’re just trying to do our jobs.”
“And I’m trying to do mine.” Crow pulled her chair closer to the desk. “And after that stupid suggestion, I have half a mind to pull you from this investigation.”
Rem dropped his jaw. “What for?”
“Because if you’re willing to make a false report, lie to a news station and get Patricia to lie too, I have to wonder how far you’re willing to go.”
Daniels couldn’t understand her logic. “Police officers can lie to suspects to get confessions, but we can’t do this?”
“Don’t compare the two,” she said. “You know it’s not the same.”
Rem stood. “You’re making a mistake.”
She interlaced her fingers. “By keeping you two on this case? Let’s hope not. But you suggest something like that again, and I may change my mind.” She pulled a folder off a pile and opened it. “Do better, detectives.”
Seeing her study the contents of the folder as if she’d dismissed them, Daniels gritted his teeth.
Rem gaped at her. “If Jerry Lee doesn’t survive this, I’m going to say the same to you.”
She looked up. “If you do your jobs, then you won’t have to.”
Daniels raised his hands. “That’s what we’re trying to do.”
“We’re done here.” Crow returned her attention to her folder. “You two can go.”
Flummoxed, Daniels stood for a second in shock, before Rem, shaking his head, walked to the door. Daniels followed, and they left the office.
“Can you believe that?” asked Rem. “Unbelievable.”
Frustrated, Daniels walked to his desk. “I don’t even know what to say.”
Monk, sitting at his desk, looked over. “Trouble in paradise, boys?”
Rem glared at Monk and spoke to Daniels. “Care for a protein bar? My treat.”
Daniels glared at Monk, too. “Love one.”
Rem headed for the door, and Daniels joined him in the hall outside the squad room. Two officers walked by, and Daniels bobbed his head toward the bathrooms.
Getting the message, Rem walked down the hall and entered the men’s restroom. Daniels went in and locked the door behind him.
Rem paced. “Now what do we do?”
Daniels tried to think. “We should never have told her.”
“Why didn’t she go for it? This is a chance to find Jerry.”
“It’s a good sign she’s not working for the society, or else she’d have been all over it.”
“Or, the society isn’t making it easy on us.”
“Why wouldn’t they want it easy? We can’t kill him if we can’t find him.” Daniels leaned against the counter. “Damn it.”
Rem stopped pacing. “We could do it without her approval.”
“And get pulled from the investigation, or worse, suspended? You want to risk that right now?” He squeezed his temples. “Although she had a point. Rhonda would see the broadcast, and Sammy Caruso would certainly hear about it.”
“According to Rook, Rhonda’s been pulled off the assignment.”
“You really think that would stop her?” asked Daniels. “What better way to get back in the boss’ good graces than by killing Jerry before we do?”
Rem groaned. “And make us look like idiots.”
His head hurting, Daniels made a mental note to take some aspirin when he got back to his desk. “So much for infiltrating the black birds. At this rate, you and I will be lucky if we end up cellmates.”
Rem resumed his pacing and put his hand on his head. “Let’s think. There’s got to be a way out of this.”
“Before or after Lexie, or Erin, or whoever else, winds up dead?”
Rem dropped his hand. “Hey, where’s Mr. Positivity?”
“He’s in Bolivia, having a margarita, which is where we should be right now.”
Rem ran his fingers through his hair. “Okay. Okay. It’s not looking good at the moment.”
“You think?” Daniels turned, faced the mirror, and studied his reflection. “What the hell are we going to do, Rem?” He let out a long breath. “Maybe Lexie’s right. We should go to the FBI.”
“You want to take that risk?”
“We have the box and the list of names. It might be enough.”
“And unless someone comes forward to testify against Rook, or Tex, or Rhonda, none of it is enough to bring down Rook or his organization. You know that.”
“Then we leave it to the FBI. Let them deal with figuring it out.”
“And what about my gun and your paid debt? You think the FBI will deal with that? And what about Rook’s grudge? We still don’t know what that’s about. If he’s determined, or hell, has an FBI contact on that list, we’re screwed.”
Daniels realized Rem was right. Talking to the FBI was too great a risk. He turned away from the mirror. “Then what do you want to do?” He looked at his watch. “We have thirty hours left. Should we call Lexie? Tell her to get out of town?”
Rem looked away. “We told her we’d warn her when we got to the twenty-hour mark, so we still have ten hours.”
Daniels snorted. “Why isn’t your Mr. Positivity with mine in Bolivia?”
After a long pause and a pensive look, Rem leaned a hip against the bathroom counter. He crossed his arms and spoke softly. “After D’Mato took me, and when I was in the rat-infested room, sitting in the pitch dark, listening to the squeaks…” He paused again and took a breath. “…I thought I was going to die.”
Daniels instantly went back to the time of Rem’s abduction and recalled that horrible small room where D’Mato’s cult had held Rem captive. He faced Rem but didn’t respond.
Rem cleared his throat. “The only thing that saved me was my telling myself over and over that there was hope. That you would come.”
Daniels remembered the shock of seeing Allison Albright straddling Rem and holding the knife to his neck. “And I did.”
Rem nodded. “And you did.” He laughed softly. “I wish it had been a little sooner…”
Daniels half-smiled. “Better late than never.”
“Yeah. Better than dead, at least.” He gripped his neck and took another breath. “We just have to have faith, Daniels. No matter how bad it looks, something will turn. It has to.”
Daniels dropped his head. “Let’s hope that Remalla luck kicks in.”
Rem turned and leaned against the counter next to Daniels. “Let’s hope.” They stood quietly until Rem’s phone interrupted the silence.
Rem groaned, pulled out his cell, and eyed the display with a frown. “Who is this?” He answered the phone. “Detective Remalla. This better be good.”
Listening, he widened his eyes and knocked his elbow into Daniels’ arm. “Jerry Lee Caruso?”
Daniels straightened, uncertain he’d heard right.
“Take it easy,” said Rem. “It’s okay. I’m glad you called.” He listened. “Yes, Jerry. We can help you. You did the right thing.” He held his chest and met Daniels’ gaze. “Listen to me, Jerry. We can bring you in, but I need you to do exactly as I say.”
Closing his eyes, Daniels gave thanks for Remalla’s luck.
Chapter Nine
Tyson Croft walked down the narrow pathway overgrown with vines, roots and weeds, heading toward the small, dilapidated guest house at the rear of Damien Rook’s property. Rook had a sprawling estate on twenty acres of prime real estate, most of which was well-maintained, but back here, at the far corner of the property, away from prying eyes, Rook had let nature take its course.
When Croft had once asked about the declining section, Rook had bluntly told him to mind his own business. Croft hadn’t bothered to ask again until he’d been asked to deliver a package to the small guest house. Surprised someone was staying in the run-down home, Croft had questioned Rook about the guest and why they weren’t residing in the main house. Rook had offered him another blunt response–to do his job and stop asking questions.
He’d delivered the package and had been genuinely creeped out by the state of the small house. Enormous trees and their large branches swayed over the walkway and the home itself, creating a shadowy world where little grew in the shade. The windows of the house were dirty and covered with spiderwebs. Weeds sprang up from the rotting slats of wood on the porch, and a mouse ran across the walkway as Croft approached the front door.
Having no interest in whoever was staying there, he placed the small box at the entry, knocked and left. He remembered someone had hung a strange twig-entwined wind chime above the front door, but had wrapped the chimes in fabric, silencing them. The odd creation reminded Croft of the creepy hanging twig structures from the movie The Blair Witch Project. And worse, when he’d knocked, he’d heard something from inside, like a low moan or chant.
Not wanting to stick around, he’d left the package, run from the house and breathed a sigh of relief when he’d made it back to the main house.
Now Rook had given him another item to deliver. Croft had almost balked at the errand, but stopped himself. If he wanted to stay in Rook’s good graces, and stay one step ahead of Monk, he’d have to do as Rook asked. There was too much at stake to risk his quick climb up the ladder. It had taken some time to reach Monk’s level, but now that he was here, Croft wasn’t going to relinquish it.
Holding the plastic bag Rook had given him to deliver, Croft headed down the same narrow walkway as the manicured lawn gave way to the overgrown path. Looking back and seeing he was far enough away from the main house, he let his curiosity get the best of him and peeked inside the bag.
Inside was another doll, similar to the one he’d been told to leave with Martin Bailey. Recalling that night, Croft cursed his stupidity. When Rook had heard about how close Croft and Russell had come to getting caught, the spilled bones, and leaving Bailey’s body outside the building, Croft had expected a quick demotion. Rook had expressed his outrage at losing the use of the property, the damaging of the bones, and the sloppiness of the execution, but after enduring the verbal assault, Croft had remained in his position. He suspected the reason was that Rook needed him.
Monk could do only so much as a working detective. While his position offered plenty of advantages, it also limited his movements and availability. As a former detective, Croft was accessible to Rook whenever Rook wanted, and Croft’s knowledge of and experience with Detectives Daniels and Remalla made him a valuable asset. Plus, he was good with a gun and had no problems using it.
Croft realized he had stiff competition with Monk and his killer girlfriend, Rhonda. But Croft wasn’t stupid. He hadn’t gotten to where he was without smart planning and stealth. He’d done a good job working with Rhonda in the town of Elmwood. Unfortunately, his friend who’d joined him, who Daniels and Remalla had called Tommy, hadn’t made it. That had pissed Croft off. It was one of the main reasons he’d rejoined Rook after paying off his debt with his work in Elmwood. He wanted payback. Plus, the money was good.
And now that he was helping Rook blackmail Remalla and Daniels, he was having even more fun. He didn’t know what was driving Rook to destroy those two, but he understood it. They needed to be put in their place. And when Rook tired of his games, Croft would happily kill the detectives, provided Monk didn’t get in the way. Monk wanted to kill them as much as Croft did, but Croft was happy to wait until Rook was ready. Monk was less patient, and Croft could sense Monk’s frustration.
If Croft played his cards right, after dealing with the detectives, he’d take care of Monk and Rhonda, and when the time was right, handle Rook. It was no secret his boss had shown signs of instability. It was one reason Martin Bailey was dead. Bailey had seen the signs and discussed his observations with other members. Once Rook learned that, Croft knew Bailey had signed his own death warrant.
Croft had no intention of going that route. Rook was a powerful man with powerful enemies and allies. If Croft showed allegiance, and played the game, he’d earn the respect of the other members, and hopefully Rook’s trust. The more he knew, the better. And right now, he planned to stay as close to Rook as he could, because Rook had something cooking on the sidelines. Croft didn’t know all the details, but just by listening to Rook talk, it was big.
He didn’t know what the weird packages, strange dolls, or odd house guest at the back of the property had to do with it, but he planned to find out. If the opportunity presented itself, he could step in if Rook couldn’t, and judging by some of Rook’s bizarre actions, that opportunity might soon arrive. Croft recognized Monk had sensed the same thing, so it was more important than ever that Croft stick close, pay attention, and prove himself.
Nearing the guest house, he tucked the bizarre doll back into the bag, guessing by its presence that someone else was about to get a deadly delivery. He wondered who and hoped it wasn’t him.
Considering the plans for Daniels and Remalla, though, he doubted it. Rook required his help, especially now that the detectives were expected to kill Jerry Lee Caruso. Croft doubted they’d actually do it. They were too strait-laced. So he bided his time, waiting for them to fail, and waiting to see what Rook would do when they did.
