Justifiable Risk (3 page)

Eva walked into the narrow room crowded with battered metal desks. A patchwork of bulletin boards, wanted posters, and phone numbers covered the faded beige walls, riddled with nail holes. The room smelled of scorched coffee and fresh donuts. Eva smiled at the old cliché but focused on Greer Ellis.

As she and Chief Bryant entered unnoticed, everyone was staring at Greer, who stood in the center of the room, hands raised. She debated a dark-haired, middle-aged man with no neck and a football-player build. His checked shirt needed ironing, and he strummed his fingers on the desk as she spoke.

“Come on, Sarge. I wasn’t even a minute late. Besides, I was helping some lost woman in the parking lot. Really, when I came in, she was—”

“Sit down, Greer. We’ve had this discussion before. I don’t like to repeat myself.” The man’s tone was calm and fatherly.

“Jeez, Sarge. I promise, I was helping a lady.”

Chief Bryant whispered into Eva’s ear, “Greer obviously had too much caffeine this morning.”

The comment implied a level of familiarity that Eva didn’t share with her own staff or colleagues.

“And another thing, Greer. What do you mean pulling that stunt yesterday? You know we don’t make any kind of arrest, especially felonies, without backup. You need to be more careful. We have rules for a reason. I don’t want to be the one to tell your Aunt Bessie…” The man shuffled some papers uncomfortably.

Greer straightened and the muscles along her shoulders twitched. “I’ll do better.” The statement sounded obligatory but not binding. Greer Ellis obviously found it easier to get forgiveness than permission.

The sergeant started to speak again, but glanced at Eva and Chief Bryant at the back of the room and sprang from his seat. “Good morning, Chief.”

The detectives swiveled, then straightened in their chairs. Maybe because of the chief, or maybe because of her. Greer pivoted on her heel and swept her piercing stare over Eva again, making her uneasy.

Chief Bryant grinned, shaking his head as Greer sat down. “Good morning, folks. This is Ms. Eva Saldana, CNN investigative journalist. She’s here in an unofficial capacity, inquiring about the death of her brother, Paul Saldana. I believe JJ handled the case.”

A fortysomething man with a buzz cut, blue eyes, and pale crow’s-feet offered his hand. “Jake Johnston at your service. Call me JJ. I’ll be glad to answer any questions.” JJ was moderately handsome with his bronze skin and flashy smile, but a bit too eager.

Sergeant Fluharty elbowed JJ aside and shook Eva’s hand. “It’s good to meet you, Ms. Saldana. I’m Sergeant Fred Fluharty, welcome to NHPD.” Fluharty, as tall as Chief Bryant, was heavier, with a small potbelly. His oval face glowed when he smiled, sending a blush up to his retreating hairline. “JJ’s our most experienced detective. We’ll try to address your concerns.”

Chief Bryant headed for the door. “I see you’re in good hands, so I’ll leave you to it, Ms. Saldana. Let me know if you need anything else.”

Sergeant Fluharty relaxed his posture when the door closed behind the chief. “Let me introduce you to our other three detectives.” He motioned toward the others in the room. “Since our squad is so small, everybody usually works on the major cases.”

He pointed to a young, dark-skinned man with an inscrutable expression. The Fu Manchu–style facial hair that encircled his mouth and chin made him appear serious. His body was muscular, his bearing militaristic. “This is Detective Derrick Bastile. We call him Breeze.”

The man nodded. “Welcome, Ms. Saldana.” His rich baritone voice suggested confidence and authority.

“Breeze?” she asked.

“As in cool, I would imagine. You’ll probably get a nickname if you’re here longer than an hour or two.”

Eva turned her attention to the other male. “This is Craig Myrick,” Fluharty said, “our resident computer guy and an excellent detective.”

Myrick glanced up from his laptop long enough to mumble, “Hey, I like your stuff on CNN,” and returned to his work. His pale skin contrasted to his jet black swept-back hair and droopy eyebrows.

“Thank you.” Eva’s pulse hiked as she and the sergeant approached the final officer, who had been so rude earlier. She breathed deeply to control her response, but this woman made her wary and excited.

“And this is Greer Ellis.” Fluharty gave Greer his best be-nice stare.

The vibrant blue of Greer’s eyes churned like the depths of the ocean, briefly emitting pleasure, pain, and confusion. Eva stared at the mysterious scar that carved a clean path through the woman’s brow and clung to the strong hand that covered hers. Strangely familiar warmth crawled down her spine and grounded her. Eva couldn’t force herself from the overwhelming visceral sensations until Greer’s full lips moved.

“Eva Saldana. Now I know why you looked familiar.” Greer radiated mischief and rebellion like a neon warning sign on the roadway.

Eva struggled to maintain her equilibrium as sensation flooded her. She hadn’t responded to a woman this strongly or quickly…ever, not even with her recently increased appetites. But she needed to control her overactive libido right now.

JJ cleared his throat and announced, “Hey, Greer, shouldn’t you let the lead detective take the lead?”

When Eva realized they still held hands and locked eyes, she stepped away.

Sergeant Fluharty said, “Ms. Saldana, if you’ll follow me, we’ll get started. JJ has court this morning, but we won’t need him.” The detective looked disappointed as he gathered his briefcase and headed out.

Fluharty closed the door to his office and motioned for Eva to take a seat. Then he poured a cup of coffee and loaded it with sugar. “Care for some?”

“No, thank you.” Fluharty’s office seemed like a closet full of filing cabinets.

“I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. It isn’t easy to lose a loved one especially unexpectedly.” He sat down and spread his huge hands across a file folder on his desk. “Now, how can I help you, Ms. Saldana?”

Fluharty’s eyes looked tired and bloodshot. Eva hoped he hadn’t been up all night on a case, because she needed his full attention. “That should be obvious. I don’t believe my brother overdosed.”

“What do you base that on?”

“He didn’t take drugs of any kind.”

“To your knowledge.” Fluharty’s statement sounded like an accusation.

“I’m in a better position to know what my brother would do than a group of strangers. No disrespect intended, Sergeant.”

“So you saw your brother often and spent long periods of time with him?”

“No. We have separate lives, like most siblings.”

“He lived in Lagos, Portugal. Is that your home as well?”

“My work requires a great deal of travel, but what does that have to do with Paul’s death?”

“I’m trying to understand your relationship better.”

Fluharty’s professional tone contained no hint of compassion for her situation. He seemed to be trying to paint an ugly picture of her brother’s life. “Sergeant, my brother didn’t have a complete personality change. I know what he is—was—like.”

“How many deaths have you investigated during your career?”

“That’s not the point.” Eva’s skin prickled.

“It is certainly
a
point. Jake Johnston has investigated death cases for ten years. Nothing gets by him. If he says your brother died of an overdose and the autopsy shows nothing to the contrary, that’s how he died. I know how difficult this is for you.”

The warmth in Eva’s veins turned hot. “I’m sorry, but I don’t share your confidence. Is your idea of a case review to simply defend your decision?”

“Hardly, Ms. Saldana. The chief told me three days ago that you were coming, so I’ve studied every detail of the case numerous times. JJ followed every lead, considered every angle, and explored every possible scenario. I wish I could tell you that I have questions, but I don’t.” Almost apologetic, he showed the first signs of emotion.

Despite his warmth, Eva clenched her hands into tight fists and struggled to contain her anger. A man in Fluharty’s position would probably use her volatile emotions to justify his point. “But
I
have questions, Sergeant. I just want your detectives to review the case once more.”

“We don’t have the manpower to revisit cases every time a family member asks. That’s why I went over this one again personally. Unfortunately, drug deaths are a fact of life here, and we get more every day. I can’t spare an officer to look into a closed case.”

Eva willed her voice to remain calm. “Then give me access to your files and I’ll investigate it myself.”

“I can’t release departmental files to a civilian. Besides, that would hardly be an objective third-party review.”

“What about a compromise, a joint review? I’ll study the facts with one of your men supervising.”

Fluharty blew out a long breath. “That’s against policy too. I wish I could do more, but my hands are tied.”

“Change the policy. Nothing is carved in stone.”
Except your rules and regulations, apparently.

“That’s not how we do business, Ms. Saldana. This isn’t one of your CNN cover stories. We have departmental guidelines for a reason. If we make one exception, the whole system comes under scrutiny.”

Fluharty threw up roadblocks to every suggestion, and Eva slipped into panic mode, an uncommon state for her. She’d faced far more dangerous opponents on assignments throughout the world, but this one was personal. This man’s decision threatened to dislodge one certainty in her life—Paul’s basic goodness. “Please, Sergeant, I know my brother. Consider another possibility.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, there
is
no other possibility. People lie. Evidence doesn’t. We found a half ounce of cocaine in your brother’s room. His nasal cavity looked like upstate New York during a blizzard.” He stopped, as if reconsidering his comment. “I’m sorry, that was unkind. But he had enough drugs in his system to kill him twice. Nothing in his room or on his person pointed to foul play.” Fluharty waved the file in front of her like a red flag. “Everything we have points to an overdose. I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but these are the
facts
.” His final statement rang with genuine regret.

Eva was standing over Fluharty’s desk with her fists clenched at her sides before she realized that she’d risen. “My brother did not do drugs. Are you listening?” Her voice sounded strained and foreign, its pitch higher and shaking with emotion. “You must believe me.” Fluharty’s expression told her she was wasting her breath. To him, she was just another bereaved relative incapable of objectivity.

The beige folder on his desk with her brother’s name scribbled across it looked blurry through her tears, but she refused to let them fall. This man had no idea how much this case meant to her or how far she would go to uncover the truth. She straightened and locked stares with him. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time. I’ll continue this conversation with the chief.”

It took every ounce of her willpower to walk slowly out of his office and into the parking lot. All she saw was the red of her anger and the dark abyss of her situation.

*

Greer tried to complete her paperwork without eavesdropping on the low, intense mumbles from Fluharty’s office. Would the sergeant reopen the Saldana case?

She had thought the initial investigation four months ago was a bit hasty, but all evidence pointed to an overdose. She had been taught to look beyond the obvious, and in this instance her training officer, JJ, had done exactly the opposite. He wrapped the scene in a matter of hours, accepted the coroner’s preliminary cause of death, and filed the jacket. When she’d asked him about it, he’d quipped something about a duck being a duck.

He’d done his job properly, though. JJ was the best detective in the squad, and she’d learned a lot from him. Without his friendship, especially the way he covered for her during her grief, the last two years wouldn’t have made much sense.

But why was JJ in court instead of meeting with Ms. Saldana and the sergeant? Breeze and Craig were out trying to locate a witness, and right now Greer would rather be anywhere but here. The intensity in Sergeant Fluharty’s voice increased, and she flinched. It wasn’t going well. She’d heard Fluharty’s logical, fatherly sermons many times. She didn’t want to think about how that poor woman was feeling right now.

She was the first person who’d stirred any real interest in her since Clare. Guilt, immediate and brutal, seized her. She slumped in her chair as sensual memories invaded. She shouldn’t feel attracted to Eva, but she ached for physical attention. Sex was different from love, she told herself, and she knew her limits.

Eva was nothing like Clare, but her expressiveness mesmerized Greer. When they met, Greer wanted to say something genuine, but she hadn’t wanted to show how much Eva attracted her. More beautiful than a model, Eva seemed innocent, passionate, and determined.  Uneasy, Greer took a deep breath as the voices from Fluharty’s office grew more urgent.

Eva Saldana sounded increasingly distressed and desperate. Situations like this made Greer uncomfortable. She understood grief over the loss of a loved one, but she couldn’t identify with someone who expressed it so earnestly. Suddenly the door to Fluharty’s office opened and Eva walked slowly but deliberately toward the parking lot, gazing straight ahead, her lips pursed in a tight line. She looked only seconds from tears. Greer ran after her, compelled to help.