Fugitive Justice (7 page)

And the thought that Annie might’ve known about this whole arrangement disturbed Hank deeply.

Annie was a close friend of his, and he’d need to have a long talk with her. And unfortunately, he’d have to obtain a search warrant for the Lincoln residence. The thought of digging through the private affairs of his friends nauseated him, but he shook it off and forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand.

Hank ducked back into the front seat of the car and opened the glove compartment. An iPhone sat on top of a stack of papers. He turned it on and a picture of Annie appeared. It was Jake’s cell phone.

He checked the recent calls, squinting at the last inbound number. Jake had received a phone call from Merrilla Overstone at 9:03 that morning. That had to be when he’d arranged to meet her.

Hank leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. The evidence against Jake was mounting. Rather than coming up with something that would exonerate his friend, all he’d found was more damning evidence.

He wondered if it was really true. Was the friend he’d known for so many years nothing but a thief and a murderer? The thought was ridiculous.

The trunk slammed and Hank opened his eyes as King approached the side of the vehicle. “Nothing in the trunk, Hank,” he said. “Just a spare tire.”

Hank nodded. “Nothing else in the back?”

King reached into the backseat and removed a sports bag. “A couple of sandwiches and some water in here.”

“Anything else?”

“Nope.”

Hank sighed and stepped from the vehicle. “All right. Let’s get this car towed in.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Then we’ll organize a manhunt and find Jake.”

King crossed his arms and frowned at Hank. “This is hard on you, isn’t it, Hank?”

Hank nodded. He wasn’t sure if he was angry with his friend, or disappointed. Maybe both. And perhaps heartbroken about the whole thing. Whatever it was, he had a job to do, and friend or not, he had to bring Jake in.

King glanced around, then spoke again. “I find it hard to believe, too, Hank. If there’s another answer, we’ll find it.”

Although King didn’t seem deeply affected personally by the ongoing revelations, at least he appeared to have a heart somewhere under that tough skin of his.

Hank glanced over as the Channel 7 Action News van pulled up behind his car. Somehow Lisa Krunk had managed to track him down, and he had no chance of escape this time. He had to stay here until Annie’s car was towed into the police impound lot.

He watched in disgust as Lisa climbed from the passenger seat. Her driver and cameraman, Don, opened the rear door and removed his camera, dropping it on his shoulder.

Hank’d had a lot of run-ins with Lisa in the past, some good, mostly bad, and he knew the pushy newswoman would do anything for a story. Her brand of sensational journalism was well known throughout the precinct, and she was never content until she could spin a story to her liking.

Lisa’s extra-wide mouth was twisted into a smile as she approached the cops. She wore an unbecoming floppy red hat, her short dark hair barely reaching her ears.

“Good afternoon, Hank,” she said, looking down her long thin nose at him, her microphone stuck in his face. “Can you tell me anything about what happened on Mulberry Lane?”

Hank strove to remain patient and glanced at the red light on the camera, then spoke into the mike. “There was a shooting at the residence, and it’s an ongoing investigation.”

“Do you have a suspect?” Lisa asked.

Hank hesitated. “The assailant had left the scene before we arrived. We’re looking at a number of people, but I can’t tell you more than that.”

Lisa glanced at the Toyota. “Is this the suspect’s vehicle?”

Annie and Lisa were well acquainted—not friends, but they’d had occasion to meet many times in the past. Had this been Annie’s old Escort, Lisa would likely have recognized it. But Hank didn’t want to mention Jake and Annie’s names. At least, not yet.

“This vehicle might or might not have been involved. We don’t know for sure,” he said.

Lisa persisted. “Can you give me the name of the victim?”

“Not until the family has been notified,” Hank said. He paused and then added, “I don’t have anything else for you. There’ll be an official statement later when we know more.”

Lisa swung the mike toward King and opened her mouth to speak. King shrugged and walked away. Lisa frowned and turned back to Hank, the frown replaced with a fresh smile. “Thank you, Hank,” she said and turned to Don. She dragged a finger across her throat and the red light went out.

Hank’s jaw dropped as Lisa and Don walked away. She was usually more persistent and much more obnoxious than this. Was she losing her edge? Hank hoped so, but he doubted it.

He figured she’d be snooping around again as soon as she thought up a new angle.

Hank closed the doors of the Toyota and leaned against the hood. As soon as the tow truck got here, he could leave, and he was determined do all he could to get to the bottom of this whole mess.

Chapter 11

Tuesday, 1:12 p.m.

ANNIE DROPPED HER book on the stand beside her easy chair and went to answer the ringing doorbell. She was surprised to see Hank standing on the porch, a somber look on his face.

A sad smile touched the detective’s lips. “Can I come in? I need to talk to you.”

“Of course,” Annie said. She waved him into the foyer and led him to the living room, settling back into her chair as Hank dropped onto the couch.

He observed her, tapping his fingers nervously against his leg, his uneasy eyes on hers. Then he breathed a short sigh and cleared his throat. “Have you talked to Jake recently?”

Annie narrowed her eyes. “He called me two or three hours ago and explained the situation. It’s a little unusual, but I haven’t heard from him since.” She paused and her frown deepened. “Is something the matter?”

Hank raised his eyes and stared blankly at something behind her as if gathering his thoughts. When he looked back at her, his deep brown eyes seemed to penetrate her soul.

“As you know, Annie, we’ve been friends a long time,” he said. “The three of us. And that’s why this pains me so much.” He paused again, his eyes never wavering, then spoke slowly. “There’s overwhelming evidence Jake was involved in a shooting.”

Annie tilted her head to one side. “A shooting?”

Hank nodded. “It appears he had an appointment to meet a woman, and he was bringing some money to her that might be connected to the bank robbery.”

“Impossible,” Annie said, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

Hank shrugged. “There’s more. The woman was shot, and we aren’t sure if she’ll survive. There seems to be no doubt Jake fired the weapon. A neighbor claimed to have heard two shots, the last one immediately before Jake ran from the house with a pistol in his hand.”

Annie sat back. “How can you possibly assume it was him who fired the gun?”

“Jake had gunshot residue on his clothes. And of course, his prints were on the gun.”

“That’s not enough,” Annie said, her frown of disbelief deepening.

Hank’s voice quivered when he spoke. “The woman, Mrs. Overstone, said it was Jake who shot her.”

Annie stared at Hank, unsure what to say. This was preposterous. Jake would never shoot an innocent person.

“Did you talk to Jake about all this?” she asked.

Hank nodded. “I talked to him briefly before we did any further investigation. Before all the evidence against him came to light.”

“And?”

A look of pain appeared in Hank’s eyes. “Jake lied to me, Annie.” He cleared his throat again. “He claimed he was staking out the house and took photos of someone entering the premises.” Hank shook his head. “He never took any photos.”

Annie looked around as if half-expecting Jake to appear and tell them what had really gone on. “Where’s Jake now?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

Annie gave Hank a blank stare.

“He ran. He was in the car, and we came out to, uh … talk to him, and he took off.” Hank dropped his head a moment, twiddling his fingers. Then he looked back at Annie. “The truth is, Annie, I had no choice but to arrest Jake, and he knew it. So he ran. He got away in the car and then abandoned it after a few blocks.”

“Did you try to call him?”

“He left his cell in the car.”

“But surely you don’t think Jake’s guilty of anything,” Annie said. “Especially murder.”

“There’s a lot more evidence than what I’ve told you about, and there’s nothing that supports his story.” Hank sat forward. “Further evidence points to Jake’s involvement in the bank robbery.”

“Now you’ve gone too far,” Annie said in a sharp voice. “Jake was on a stakeout when it happened. You were here when he came home.”

Hank spoke in a soft voice, probably in response to Annie’s growing anger. “If we can confirm that, it’ll go a long way toward proving Jake’s innocence.”

“He told you where he was. He was following around a woman whose husband suspected she was having an affair.”

Hank sighed. “That’s the problem with those kind of jobs. He has to remain unseen or it’s not effective. Unless somebody can testify he was doing what he said he was …”

Annie leaned forward. “You have the video from the robbery. Surely it’ll prove Jake had no involvement.”

“The video isn’t clear, Annie. And no one had a good view of the robber’s face.”

Annie sat back, crossed her arms, and lifted her chin. “What’s Jake’s motive for doing any of this?”

Hank hesitated. “The woman who he … who was shot … is a loan manager at the bank that was robbed. Though she said she couldn’t identify the robber, we know she saw his face from a distance. We think he felt the need to eliminate her to be safe.”

“If that’s the case,” Annie said, “how would the bank robber know who she was? If she couldn’t recognize him, how could he recognize her?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps he was familiar with the bank.”

She knew Jake was very familiar with the bank and many of its employees, but she kept the knowledge to herself. If this didn’t get straightened up soon, that information would come out eventually. But right now, Annie had no intention of adding more circumstantial evidence to the already growing list against her husband.

Annie dropped her hands to her lap and stared at the uneasy cop. “What’s your opinion about this?” she asked flatly.

Hank took a deep breath. “I honestly don’t know, Annie. It ludicrous to think I’ve known Jake all these years and never really knew him. I’m a cop. It’s my job to know people. I find the whole situation hard to swallow, but the evidence …”

Annie glared at the cop in disappointment. He didn’t sound too convinced of Jake’s innocence.

Hank reached into his pocket, removed a folded piece of paper, and unfolded it thoughtfully. He leaned forward, hesitated, then handed it to Annie.

“I want you to know how much this pains me,” he said as she took the paper. “But we have to search your house.”

Annie’s eyes widened as she stared at the search warrant. Then she looked into Hank’s troubled eyes. They seemed to be almost begging her to forgive him for the necessary intrusion.

She swallowed hard, handed the warrant back to Hank, and nodded in understanding. “Okay,” she said in a hoarse voice, her anger dissipating.

Hank was only doing his job, and besides, they had nothing to hide.

“We’ll be careful,” Hank said as he stood. He gave Annie one last look of apology, then went outside.

Soon the front door opened, and Hank came back in, followed by Detective King and a pair of investigators. Annie sat silently in the living room as her house was searched and her privacy was invaded, her heart silently breaking for her husband.

A few minutes later, Hank came back into the living room and dropped onto the couch. He carried an evidence bag containing a white envelope.

He held up the bag, the sadness in his eyes replaced by a look of deep pain. “I really shouldn’t be showing you this, Annie,” he said. “But since we’re friends, I have to tell you what Detective King found in the garage.”

Annie stared at the bag.

“It’s money. Twenty-eight hundred dollars.” He paused, then continued, “It was found in Jake’s tool chest. If you add it to the two thousand Jake was carrying, it’s the exact amount taken at the bank robbery.”

Annie’s mouth dropped open, and her wide eyes stared at the impossible evidence.

Hank continued, “The hundreds taken at the robbery are marked, and the serial numbers were recorded. We’ll have to check these against the list to be sure, but on the surface, it doesn’t look good.”

Now Annie had to make a decision—either to believe in her husband’s innocence, or to accept the overwhelming evidence against him as the truth.

The latter was inconceivable, the former the only choice to make.

“He’s innocent,” Annie said in a firm voice. “You’ll see.”

Hank stood and went to the door. “I hope you’re right,” he said, glancing back at her. “I sure hope you’re right.”

She looked meekly at the cop. “Can I have my car back?”

Hank’s shoulders slumped and he turned to face her. “It … it’s evidence,” he said, then sighed deeply and opened the door. “I’ll see what I can do.”

She watched Hank and the other three cops get in their vehicles and drive away.

And now, it was up to her. She had to find Jake. Or wait until he found her. Then, together, they could get this ridiculous situation straightened out.

Chapter 12

Tuesday, 2:35 p.m.

JAKE HAD SPENT THE last two or three hours making his way through the city, taking side streets and alleys as much as possible, working his way north. He was sure the police would have a BOLO out on him by now, and the snow-white jumpsuit he wore would be a dead giveaway to any cop on the prowl.

When he hit Front Street, he wondered why he hadn’t thought of the idea sooner. It was a warm day, so he went into a small neighborhood park and ducked behind a group of bushes, obscured from the eyes of any passersby. He stripped off his jumpsuit, then tugged and pulled, managing to rip off the top half of the suit. When he put it back on and rolled up the pant legs, he figured no one would look at him twice. His outfit looked a little odd, but he could pass for just another jogger out for some afternoon exercise.