Power (4 page)

“Clear as a bell.” She withdrew her arm from his hold and walked away.

Why would she want this case anyway? Let Black deal with the tutus and the overbearing dance moms.

“You missed your appointment this morning,” Dan called after her. “I rescheduled for the same time tomorrow morning. Do not miss that one.”

Jess hesitated at the door. Here they were, trying to pretend the weekend hadn’t changed anything between them. She didn’t know how she wanted to feel about that. The woman in her wanted to be incensed at his all-business attitude. But this was what she’d wanted. No. Not wanted. Demanded. She had made the rules. Off duty they could explore this thing that still burned between them after twenty-odd years. But on the job, he was the chief of police and she was just another of his deputy chiefs.

Funny, she had liked the concept so much better in theory.

Determined to play by the very rules she had laid down as law, she turned and gave him a big smile before saying what needed to be said. “You’re the boss.”

Birmingham Police Department, 5:58 p.m.

Dan Burnett understood there would be hell to pay with Jess for the decision he’d made on the Chandler case, but there was no way around it. Keeping the peace in the department and ensuring the smooth operation of all divisions was his job.

The job was rarely easy, and at moments like this he wondered why he had ever agreed to accept the position. Years of counseling likely wouldn’t uncover all the reasons he’d felt it necessary to attain the highest law enforcement position in the city. Then there were the marriages and divorces… and Jess. His and Jess’s relationship would provide enough fodder for a multivolume boxed set of couples therapy journals.

Nothing was ever simple or routine between the two of them.

Now was a perfect example. Jess stood before his desk, arms crossed over her chest as daggers flew at him from those furious brown eyes. Her blond hair and the sleek-fitting rose-colored dress with the matching sexy high heels could not camouflage what was on her mind. But they went a hell of a long way in distracting him from what he knew had to be done.

Oh yes. There was hell to pay, and he had the decidedly unpleasant task of doing the paying.

“My detectives and I were on the scene first. Territorial issues aside, answering the call from the initial officers on the scene should account for something. The least Chief Black could do is acknowledge my assessment and consider my suggestions for interviewing the family.”

“Have a seat and we’ll go over this once more if that’ll make you happy,” Dan offered.

As difficult as squaring off with her like this was, their future working relationship depended upon the standard he set now. Today. On this case. With their shared history common knowledge and considering the position he had created specifically for her, the whole department was watching their every move. Jess had reminded him of that point repeatedly over the past week. The problem this morning was that she wanted the Chandler case and Deputy Chief Black was claiming dibs. An unaccompanied death with violent circumstances could logically fall under the scope of either Jess’s new unit or Black’s division. Admittedly there was some gray area here, but Dan could not afford even the suggestion of favoritism. The buck stopped here, and this was the first necessary step in proving to the entire department that their shared history carried no impact on his and Jess’s ability to do the job.

Even if finding the zipper on that dress and getting it off her this instant was the prevalent image moving through his mind. It had been a long day. He was weak.

Her eyes narrowed, warning that his high-handedness was duly noted and absolutely not appreciated. Or maybe she’d read his mind. “Darcy Chandler’s husband has not one witness who can confirm his alibi between eleven this morning and one this afternoon.” She made a face that indicated just how unbelievable she found his alibi. “He was driving around and then meditating at the Botanical Gardens?” She spread her arms wide apart and turned her palms upward in disbelief. “
Really?
We’re just going to take his word for that and give him a pat on the back and say how sorry we are for his loss?”

“Chief Black was showing respect for the deceased and the husband who, so far, we have no reason to suspect of wrongdoing other than his inability to remain faithful, and that’s hearsay,” Dan pointed out. “Down here in the South, if you think back, I’m sure you’ll recall, respect and compassion are SOP, especially at times like this.”

Jess dropped her head back and made an exasperated sound.

Her assessments were valid. There was no denying that. Mayakovsky had stated that he’d spent a good deal of the morning driving around arguing with his wife by phone and attempting to make sense of what came next in their marriage. That part of his statement, at least the calls, was corroborated by the victim’s cell phone call list. During the interview Mayakovsky had broken down in tears at the idea that his final interaction with his wife was such a fierce battle. She had made up her mind to proceed with the dissolution of their union and he’d been beside himself. He’d said things he now regretted, but he hadn’t harmed her. He swore over and over that the last time he saw his wife she was alive and well.

Dan understood a little something about the end of a relationship and the dreaded journey through divorce. A man didn’t always show the depth of pain he experienced, but the inability to convey those emotions in no way diminished his pain. In Dan’s estimation Mayakovsky was sincere when he lamented the agony of having his wife kick him out of their home, and then just this past Saturday she further informed him that he would no longer be a part of the renowned dance school in any capacity. Those statements were substantiated by the interviews Jess and Prescott had conducted. Mayakovsky seemed genuinely shocked and devastated that his wife was dead.

“Chief Black is working with the cell carrier to confirm exactly where Mayakovsky was while he made those calls to his wife,” Dan added, no matter that Jess was fully aware of the steps. “We’ll know in a day or two whether or not he’s telling the truth.”

Jess harrumphed her discontent and her arms went back over her chest. “Like it’ll matter in a day or two. The first words out of the victim’s father’s mouth when he heard the news was a demand to know what the hell his son-in-law had done. That tells us something about the relationship between Chandler and her husband. And Black just lets him go his merry way? A well-traveled man of means with a valid passport? By the time Black’s finished checking out his alibi, Maya-whatever-his-name-is could be back in the motherland. Do we have an extradition agreement with Russia?”

She was not making this easy. “The husband is under surveillance. If he attempts to flee we will intervene. Since, at this time, we have no evidence indicating he’s guilty of any crime, he has the right to mourn his wife. In fact, we don’t even know if her death was anything more than a tragic accident.” He paused, dialed back the frustration and impatience that had been ramping up the decibel level of his voice. “There’s this little”—he held his thumb and forefinger close together—“thing called the law that determines in large degree our actions on this case and all others. Until we have proof this was no accident and that there is guilt on his part, we can’t hold or charge Mayakovsky.”

Completely unmoved by his logic or his authority, it seemed, Jess popped her chin up even higher in barefaced defiance. “It wasn’t an accident, Dan.”

At least she’d called him by his first name. Maybe there was hope she would get over being mad as blazes at him. Why that continued to matter more than whether she paid the proper respect to his position defied all reason.

“The shoes alone aren’t sufficient evidence, Jess. That said”—he held up his hands stop-sign fashion when she would have interrupted—“you don’t know Chief Black or the others here like I do. I can assure you that he will give this case due diligence. He’s meeting with Chandler’s attorney right now to see if he’ll share any thoughts on his client’s frame of mind or any suggestions of violence she may have shared relevant to her husband.”

“Good luck with that,” Jess grumbled. “Zacharias Whitman didn’t get to be Birmingham’s most notorious attorney by advocating the team spirit. He’s not going to give up anything unless there’s something to be gained and if the victim’s parents tell him to keep his mouth shut, he will. Money talks and”—she flashed Dan a bogus smile—“you know the rest.”

“I will remind Chief Black that you are anxious to support his efforts in whatever capacity he needs.”

She laughed in that rich earthy quality that made him think of the other primal sounds he’d plied from her this weekend. “I won’t hold my breath,” she let him know. “I spent all morning searching for briefings because no one invited me to their party. And since SPU doesn’t have any cases, Prescott, Harper, and I ran out of things to talk about fifteen minutes into ours.”

“I’m certain none of the briefings were relocated or canceled because of you, Jess.” As frustrated as she made him, there were the moments like this when she confessed to feeling left out and misunderstood and he wanted to hug the hell out of her and promise her it wouldn’t happen again. How she went from livid to vulnerable in three beats he would never know. “Maybe when you completed the SPU briefing you should have gone to that appointment with Dr. Oden. I got my appointment out of the way first thing this morning.”

“I told you it slipped my mind. Then I got the call about Chandler and I had more important things to think about. Like how a woman with perfect balance falls over a railing in her own home. And why the shoes she was wearing ended up set aside just so before the fall.”

Same old Jess. As much as he wanted to be at his wit’s end with her methods, he never ceased to be amazed by her view of the cases, the victims, and life in general. Unorthodox didn’t begin to describe her blunt, overbearing tactics. She bemoaned her lack of friends and the idea that the others guarded their territory with rabid ferocity around her, when the truth was that those who knew her respected her immensely. Those who didn’t were terrified of landing on her radar.

“I can call you tomorrow morning and remind you about the appointment.”

She retrieved her cell phone so she could wave it at him. “I set a reminder. I’ll be there.”

“And”—he leaned forward and picked up the folder on his desk—“I have a case for SPU.”

She sank into the chair in front of his desk, equal measures of surprise and suspicion vying for top billing as her petulance faded. “What kind of case? Why didn’t you tell me that already instead of badgering me about Black and respect?” As she dug for her reading glasses, her attention settled on the red folder in his hand.

Badgering?
He wasn’t even going there. “DeShawn Simmons. Nineteen. African American. Volunteer of the year with Hands on Birmingham. He’s supposed to start Jeff State next month. The first ever in his family to achieve that goal. The bad news is he left home for work on Friday afternoon and no one has seen him since.”

Jess accepted the folder and opened it to view the contents. “No one reported him missing until today?”

“When he wasn’t home by Saturday morning his grandmother filed a report but, considering his age and the lack of any suggestion of vulnerability or foul play, was told there was nothing the police could do at that point.”

“No criminal record?”

“None.” Dan wished he could turn back time forty-eight hours and get a do-over on this one. It shouldn’t have happened. Closer consideration had been warranted.

“Graduated valedictorian from Parker High School. He had to be doing something right, until recently anyway.” Jess closed the folder. “Were his cell phone records ordered? His friends and coworkers interviewed? Anything?”

“The case just made its way here. Some preliminary groundwork was started this morning but nothing to speak of. You have all we know so far right there.”

Her eyebrows lifted in blatant incredulity. “Which isn’t much.” She tapped the folder. “The address is in the Druid Hills area. Are the crime statistics still having a negative impact on the neighborhood?”

The area had long suffered economic and social issues, drawing the urban criminal element like flies to a rotting carcass. No matter that the city, with Mayor Pratt serving as a primary catalyst, had put forth considerable effort to draw opportunities into the neighborhood, it wasn’t happening. Little had changed that painfully repetitive cycle of despair in recent decades.

“There’s been some revitalization, but lately the gang activity has been on the increase. Our Gang Task Force is headed up by Captain Ted Allen. Black has already run the kid’s name by Allen and he’s not on any of their watch lists. Considering this case represents the kind that all too often falls between the cracks of the system, Chief Black and I believe this might be a good jumping off point for SPU.”

“Doesn’t hurt that I’m familiar with the neighborhood.”

“Christ, I hadn’t thought of that.” Damn it. How could he forget something like that? “Is that a problem, Jess?” Her parents had been killed in an automobile accident when she was ten. An aunt she and her sister had scarcely known had taken them in. One year and four drug and prostitution busts later, Jess and her sister had been removed from the aunt’s home in Druid Hills and placed in foster care.

“It’s not a problem.” Jess gave a shake of her head. “I have no idea if my aunt’s still alive, much less where she lives.”

No matter, he felt like an ass for not remembering. “If you’re certain you’re okay with this, we need you on it. This is going to be a hot-button issue.”

“I guess that explains the spiffy red folder.”

“Starting now we’re giving this case priority.” He’d scarcely gotten back to his office from the Chandler home when the mayor had called. His office had been fielding questions and complaints all morning. Mayor Pratt wanted this taken care of ASAP.

Dan had a long list of differences with the mayor, but on this one he was right.