Angels (Nevada James #3) (Nevada James Mysteries) (15 page)

Chapter 21

I wasn’t
proud of what I did next, and I knew I’d regret it later, but I did it anyway.
Once I hung up with 911 I took Samantha by the wrists and dragged her out of my
kitchen, through the living room, and then out the front door. I’d be damned if
another person was going to die inside my house. I didn’t think I could deal
with it.

Once
that was done I called Sarah Winters. She was hesitant to get involved, but I
convinced her that now that this was more or less over, it was the right time.
She’d helped me crack three open murder cases. It should be enough to convince
Dan she was ready to do some real police work again. It certainly couldn’t
hurt, anyway. He might be pissed at first, but he liked putting cases to bed as
much as anyone.

The EMTs
took Samantha away on a stretcher about fifteen minutes later. She was still
alive, but only barely. She’d most likely taken the pills when she’d seen me
arriving home earlier, or maybe the first time she’d rung my doorbell. She
didn’t have any bottles on her, but a search of her pockets turned up an empty
Ziploc bag she’d probably been carrying them in. I had no idea how much alcohol
she’d had in total. Samantha had never intended to surrender herself. She’d
just wanted to talk to someone she’d thought would understand her. I’d have had
to admit I knew what that felt like.

Dan
arrived shortly after Sarah finished taking my statement. He came wading
through a sea of patrol cops like a Russian icebreaker. I’d had about all I
could take of his shit for one day, and I was ready for a fight if that was
what he wanted. I decided I didn’t want to wait for him to get in the first
shot. “Don’t fucking start with me,” I said to him. “Samantha came here. I
didn’t go looking for her.” It probably wasn’t worth pointing out that I’d
intended to go looking for her as soon as I got home and picked up my car.

Dan
stared at Sarah until she walked away. Then he looked at me. “I can’t leave you
alone for five minutes,” he said.

“You
want to dance?” I asked. I stepped up to him and looked in his eyes. “Bring it.
Tell me how I fucked this up, Dan. Tell me it’s my fault she came here and
overdosed.” He stared back at me but didn’t say anything. “You want to lock me
up again, tough guy?”

He held
my gaze for a long moment and then averted his eyes. “No,” he said.

“Good.”

Dan put
his hands in his pockets and glanced in Sarah’s direction. She was talking to
another one of the detectives, a young guy I didn’t recognize. “How is she in
this?” he asked. “I seem to remember her saying something about going to get
some coffee, and now here she is.”

“How
she’s in this is that she did some fine-ass police work,” I said. “Three bodies
off your books. It was her that put the pieces together.” That may not have
been
entirely
true, but it wasn’t like I did this because I enjoyed the notoriety.

Dan
grunted and looked away. I took his cheeks between my hands and turned his head
back in her direction. “Look at her,” I said. “She’s fine. She’s not flipping
out over it. She did her job.”

He
grunted again. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

“Do
that,” I said. “Let her off that fucking desk. You need people like her on the
street.”

“Maybe
you shouldn’t tell me how to run my department, Nevada.”

“Maybe
monkeys will fly out of my ass,” I said. “That seems about as likely as me
keeping my mouth shut.”

Dan
sighed and shook his head. “Don’t I know it,” he said. He looked me up and
down. “You all right?”

“I’m
fine. Samantha didn’t come here to hurt me. She just wanted someone to talk
to.”

“That’s
not really what I meant, Nevada.”

“Yeah.”
I put my hands in my pockets. “Are we talking or fighting now? I get confused
about the transition sometimes.”

“We
weren’t fighting to begin with.”

“Well,
it certainly wasn’t your best work if we were,” I said. “I was winning pretty
easily.”

“Then
there’s the proof we weren’t fighting.” A smile tried to force its way onto his
face but couldn’t quite make it there. “This time try answering the question.
Are you all right?”

“It’s
been a long goddamn day, Dan.” I shrugged. “First with the jail, and now…” I
shook my head. “I don’t know. I went looking for Krystal’s killer and wound up
with some poor girl who thought she was doing the right thing and found out the
hard way that she wasn’t.”

Dan
nodded. “That must sound familiar to you.”

“It
sounds…I don’t know. It sounds like a story I’ve heard before, I guess.”

“Yeah,”
he said. “I suppose it does.” He looked in Sarah’s direction. “I take it I can
get the details I need from her?”

“You
can. You’ll forgive me if I don’t want to rehash everything again.”

“Is
there anything else I need to know?”

I
thought about telling him that Samantha wasn’t the one who’d killed Krystal. It
would have been a good idea. But I wanted to handle it myself. “No.”

“I’ll
talk to Sarah, then.” He looked at my house. “At least nobody died in there
this time. You won’t have to tear this place down again.”

“Yeah.”
I decided not to mention I’d dragged Samantha out of the house to keep that
from happening, either.

“We’ll
get out of your hair,” Dan said. “This isn’t a crime scene.” He looked at me
and then put a hand on my shoulder. “I think it’s about time you took that
vacation, Nevada. Send me a postcard or something, all right?”

“I’ll
bring you back a t-shirt,” I said. Then I squinted at him. “I’m surprised you
said that. I thought you might try to throw my badge at me again. Get me back
under your control.”

“Not
today,” he said. “When you get back, we’re going to revisit that. Take that
vacation first, though. A long vacation. Then we’ll talk.”

“Okay,”
I said. “Maybe I’ll hit some islands. Get a tan. Go surfing. I don’t know. What
do people even do on vacations?”

“Have
you ever actually taken one?”

I
thought about it. “No. Have you?”

He
frowned. “It’s been a while,” he said. “I guess you’ll just have to figure it
out. Have some fun and forget about all of this for a while.”

“Yeah. I
will.”

And that
was the plan, more or less. But I still had unfinished business, and I wasn’t
about to try to talk to him about it. I’d told Sarah that Krystal’s killer was
still out there. She’d tell Dan, but not before I got out from under his
watchful gaze. That would give me time to do what I needed to do.

I knew
exactly who I needed to find. I didn’t know how hard it would be, but I’d find
him.

Chapter 22

It took me
two days to find the man I was looking for. A little research and an hour on
Facebook had been enough to get the things I needed to show him. And once he’d
answered my question, I went hunting. I knew where my target was, of course,
but I didn’t want to do what needed to be done at her office. Making a scene
there might have been upsetting to innocent people who needed help. So I
followed her to a coffee shop on her lunch break and waited until she’d taken a
seat before I moved in.

Vanessa
was blowing steam away from her cappuccino when I sat down across from her.
“This seat taken?” I asked.

She
looked shocked for a moment, but then she smiled at me. “Detective James,” she
said. “You come here, too?”

“No,” I
said. “I’ve never been here before.”

“Oh.”
She frowned. “Well, the coffee here is a lot better than Starbucks. I’m
surprised to see you, though.”

“Are
you?” I asked. “Surprised, I mean? I sometimes wonder if people can feel me
coming.” I shrugged. “A guy told me he could once, a long time ago. He’d been
running for a while, though. I think paranoia might have gotten to him.”

Vanessa
looked like I’d just given her a riddle to solve. I wondered how much of it was
an act. Certainly
some
of it was. I’d underestimated her because of it.
“I’ve got to tell you,” I said. “I was sure it was Esther Cromwell.”

She
nodded. “That it was Ms. Cromwell who…what?”

“Shot
Krystal Harris.”

Her facial
expression didn’t change, but her eyes went cold. There hadn’t been any
question in my mind, but that confirmed it anyway. No innocent person would
have reacted that way. “Please, Detective James,” she said. “I really have no
idea…”

“You
should never have left a witness,” I said. “That’s how I got you.”

Vanessa’s
eyes darted to the left, and then met mine again. “A witness?”

“The
homeless guy outside Krystal’s house.” I raised my eyebrows in a question.
“Maybe you didn’t see him? That hadn’t occurred to me. You may have been in a
rush to get away. He saw you, though.”

“I
don’t…” she started, but now I heard a trace of panic in her voice. It wasn’t
much yet, but it was definitely there.

“He
picked you out of a photo lineup,” I said. “The business woman with the .32. I
suppose you must have dressed up a little that day.” I gave her a stern look.
“Did you get rid of the gun, Vanessa? I’m betting you didn’t. I’m betting you
thought you might need it again. Is it in your house right now?” She didn’t say
anything. “If it is, the detectives will have it soon. They’re tearing your
place apart right now.”

Vanessa
gave me a long, hard look, and then she sighed. “Shit,” she said.

“Yeah.”

She
shook her head. “I did see the homeless man. I thought maybe…he seemed harmless
enough. He was talking to himself. I didn’t think he’d be coherent enough to
identify me. And shooting a man on the sidewalk was more of a risk than I was
willing to take.”

I
nodded. “You might have gotten away with it in that neighborhood. Of course,
there might have been someone else around to witness
that
murder, and
then you find yourself on a little killing spree.”

“Yeah.”
She frowned. “He never saw the gun, though. How did he know it was a .32?”

“He
heard it. He was a veteran. Iraq. 1991. Poor guy’s out of his head. His best
friend, or maybe it’s his worst enemy depending on the day, is a shopping cart,
but he knows guns. He saw my Glock for a split second the first time I met him
and called out the model and caliber. It was impressive.”

“I should
have gotten rid of it,” she said, “but you’re right. I thought I might need it
again.” Her eyes narrowed. “For you.”

“I wish
you’d tried it,” I said. “Instead I got poor Samantha and…you must know how
that ended.” I leaned forward. There was something I wanted to know. I
suspected I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it from her. “Tell me
this,” I said. “Why Krystal? She found you out?”

Vanessa
nodded. “She overheard Sam talking to me. Sam was…losing it. She’d figured out
that she’d killed the wrong person. She blamed me. And the truth is she wasn’t
wrong. I was the one who gave her the wrong Brian Haskill. It was my mistake. I
got careless.”

“You
were the one who called her an angel?”

“I was.”
She smiled. “She
was
an angel.”

“And Krystal
wanted money?”

“She
did.” Vanessa rubbed her eyes. “It wasn’t even very much money, to be honest.
She asked for five hundred dollars. I could have paid it.”

I felt
my jaw clench. “You killed her over five hundred dollars?” It wasn’t like there
was an amount of money that would have made her murder acceptable to me, but
five hundred dollars was just insulting.

“No,”
Vanessa said. “I did it over what would have come next. She was an addict.
She’d have spent that and come back for more. And then more. As long as she had
something on us, I’d never be rid of her. So I did what had to be done.” She
gave me a look that suggested sympathy, but I wasn’t sure if it was meant for
me, or for her, or maybe for Krystal. “I liked her. I really did. There was a
point before any of that happened where I’d hoped Sam would get through to her
and…” She shrugged. “I suppose hope makes fools of everyone.”

“That’s
why I try to avoid it,” I said. “Or I did, I guess. Now I don’t know what I’m
supposed to do.”

Vanessa
looked confused. “What?”

“Never
mind,” I said. “Long story. Involves my liver. Forget it.”

“Fine,”
she said. She crossed her arms in front of her. “But tell me one thing. Were we
wrong?”

“Wrong?”
I shook my head. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Because
I know exactly who you are, Nevada James. I knew who you were the minute you
walked through the door at Second Star that first time. I know you were off the
reservation when you went after the Laughing Man four years ago. Somehow I
doubt you were going to arrest him when you caught him.”

“I
wasn’t,” I said. “You’re right. And I won’t arrest him the next time we meet.
I’ll do my best to kill him right there. But it’s not the same thing.”

“Why
isn’t it the same thing? Because you’re so sure he’d be found guilty if he was
tried? Because there’s no prosecutor on Earth who would dismiss the charges?”

“There’s
no question he’d be found guilty. He’d probably admit it in court and give a
speech about it.”

“But
what if he was? What if there was a problem with the evidence? What if he had
an alibi that seemed reasonable? What if his lawyers found a technicality? What
would you do if he walked away a free man?”

“I’d
kill him on the courthouse steps.”

“Then
what’s the difference?”

I
sighed. I hadn’t planned to get into a philosophical debate today, but I didn’t
really have anything else on my schedule. “You’re not entirely wrong,” I
admitted. “I actually don’t support the death penalty. The government disagrees
with me, but I don’t think the government should be allowed to take lives.”

She bit
her lip. “That’s not really what I expected you to say.”

“Well,
I’m also a hypocrite,” I said. “I think there are situations where it’s
justified for a person to kill another person. And I don’t mean in
self-defense. The Laughing Man would be one example. I know a dozen people I’d
watch kill him then let them walk away. If a father kills his son’s murderer I
don’t want to see him in prison. If a woman kills her rapist…you know what? I’m
fine with that. I used to be really into due process and the legal system and
all that, but I know if someone raped me I’d put a gun in their mouth. So I
can’t deny that to anyone else.”

Vanessa
nodded. “So we’re on the same page there.”

“Not
really,” I said. “You keep asking what the difference is. The difference is
that I’d have to be right. If I ran out and shot some guy because I thought he
was the Laughing Man, maybe because he looked at me wrong, but it turned out he
was just some weird eccentric, or a guy who was too into my tits, then I’d be a
murderer. There’s no walking away from that. I’d have to go down for it. Just
like you and Samantha have to go down for Brian Haskill. And even if you’d
gotten the right Brian Haskill…you still killed Krystal.”

Vanessa
thought about that. “I guess you’re right.”

“You
know something?” I asked. I leaned forward and looked in her eyes. “The funny
thing here is that if you hadn’t killed Krystal, you’d have gotten away with
this. The police had nothing on you. Nothing. They thought they were dealing
with muggings. Krystal is the only reason I’m here today.”

Vanessa
looked down at her cappuccino. “Well. Maybe that was the wrong move.”

“I’ll
say.”

“So what
happens now?” she asked. “Are the police going to storm in here and take me
away?” She looked around. “Come to think of it, why are you here at all? You’re
not actually a police officer anymore.”

“People
forget that,” I said. “Occasionally it comes in handy. The truth is there
aren’t any detectives at your place. Only one cop knows about you right now.” I
nodded at Sarah Winters, who had followed me into the coffee shop and taken her
own seat at a nearby table. She had a fierce look in her eyes. It suited her.

Vanessa
looked confused. “But you said…”

“This
was a bit of a ruse,” I said. “Like I said, I found the witness, but he’s not
exactly in his right mind and that might not have been enough to get a warrant.
I didn’t want to risk it.” I took my phone out of my pocket and held it up so
she could see the screen. I’d turned the microphone on before I’d come in. “So
I recorded this conversation.”

Vanessa
stared at the phone as Sarah approached our table. “God
damn
it,” she
said quietly.

“Yeah,”
I said. “I know.” I looked up at Sarah. She had a pair of handcuffs waiting. “So
there’s that,” I said, “I’m going to go. You got this?”

“I got
this,” Sarah said.

“Good.”
I stood up.

“What do
you want me to tell Dan?” Sarah asked.

“Whatever
you want,” I said. “It won’t matter all that much. He’s going to yell at me one
way or another.”