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Authors: Jennifer L. Jennings

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Anthologies, #Private Investigators, #Collections & Anthologies

Weapon of Choice, A (11 page)

BOOK: Weapon of Choice, A
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Chapter 25

 

Friday, June 27

 

 

When Carter picked me up at ten the next morning, I explained to him what I had found out about Derek Thompson.  “He has a criminal record.”

“Have you called Raul and talked to him about it?” he asked.

“No.  I figured I’d wait until after we talk to Jasmine.”

 

After getting through security at the prison, we were escorted to the same visiting area as before.  When the guard led Jasmine into the private room, the first thing I noticed with the bruise on her face. 

She sat down and pointed to her left cheek.  “I had an accident,” she said, dryly. 

“I can see that,” I said.  “How did it happen?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

I could tell there was a difference in her demeanor from just a few days ago.  Her eyes were unfocused, blinking slowly as if she were a zombie.  She seemed broken.  Must be hell but I wasn’t sure if I felt sorry for her.  I wasn’t sure about anything.

“We have some bad news,” I finally said.

She blinked again but said nothing.

I continued, “You neglected to tell us a few important details last time we were here.  You wanna tell us about the loan you asked Melanie for?”

Jasmine looked up at me and swallowed.  “How did you find out about that?”

“That doesn’t matter.  What matters is that I’m starting to think you actually poisoned Melanie because she wouldn’t help you.  I guess I can understand.  You were desperate.  All you needed was that fifty grand so you could afford the cancer treatment to save your husband’s life.”

Jasmine shook her head.  “No.  You don’t understand.  I wasn’t upset.  Melanie explained why she couldn’t lend me the money.”

I paused.  “She told you she was broke?”

“You think I’d kill her just because she didn’t give me a loan? You must really think I’m evil.”

“Maybe you are,” I said.  “Because the fact is, we can’t find any other person who went to Melanie’s office after you left.  So if you didn’t poison the joint, who did?”

Jasmine buried her face in her hands.  “I already told you, I don’t know.”

“I have an idea, but right now I don’t have all the pieces,” I said, sliding a sheet of paper across the table toward her.  “Read it.”

She wiped her eyes and looked at it.  “What’s this?”

“A rap sheet on Derek Thompson.  Did you know he was arrested twice in the past two years? Drugs and assault.”

“What?” she said.  “That can’t be right.”

“Don’t play dumb.  You must have known about Derek’s arrests.  He’d been living with you for several years.”

Jasmine took a few minutes to read the sheet.  “Raul would have told me if his brother ever got arrested.  He tells me everything.”

“Maybe Raul didn’t know, either.”

After a long silence, Carter turned his attention to Jasmine and asked, “Did Derek ever help you make joints for Melanie or any of the other friends you sold joints to?”

She shook her head.  “No.  I mean, he’d sometimes make the joints for Raul, but not for my clients.  I did that all myself.”

“But it’s possible that he could have tampered with Melanie’s joint.”

Jasmine said nothing for a while as she studied her hands in her lap.  Finally she looked up and said, “Why would Derek want to kill a woman he never met? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe Gregory Frazier approached Derek with a proposition,” I said.  “Think about it.  Gregory could have promised him money in exchange for poisoning his wife’s dope.”

“No way,” Jasmine said.  “Derek would
never
do that to me.  He’d never let me take the fall, besides, if he was paid off, where’s the money at?”

Another idea shot into my brain like a lightening bolt.  “What if Derek didn’t get cash, but something just as valuable?”

“Like what?”

“Like an anonymous donation.”

Jasmine stared at me, mouth open.  “What?”

“I’ve been thinking how odd it is that Raul just happened to receive this donation out of the blue after you got arrested.  Think about it.  How did that happen?”

“I don’t know,” she said.  “I just figured someone felt sorry for us.”

“A random act of kindness? Hmm, maybe.  But not likely.  I think there’s another explanation.” I turned to Carter.  “How difficult will it be to find the person’s identity?”

“We can contact Raul’s doctor.  Maybe he can point us in the right direction.”

Jasmine remained quiet, but I could tell something was wrong.  She was visibly shaking.  Her eyes were fixated on the wall behind me.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked her.

She didn’t respond so I waved a hand in front of her and repeated myself.  “Jasmine, are you okay?”

Her eyes focused on me and that’s when I sensed her fear.  Something must have occurred to her, and she was afraid to tell us.

“What’s going on Jasmine?” I asked her.  “If you want to get out of here, you need to help us.”

She licked her lips.  “Derek was at our apartment that night before I went to Melanie’s office.  I left my purse on the kitchen table, just for a few minutes, while I was in the bedroom with Raul.  He’d had a bad day and he couldn’t get out of bed.  I wanted to make sure he was drinking enough fluids.”

“Melanie’s joint was in your purse?”

Jasmine nodded.  “Yes.  Maybe Derek switched it with the poisoned one.”

Carter looked at me and said, “Let’s head over to their apartment right now.  If we’re lucky, Derek will be there.”

The guard came in to collect Jasmine.  She wiped her tear-streaked face, got to her feet, and turned to me one last time.  “Please tell Candice I’m so sorry for everything.”

And, without another word, she left the room with the guard.

Chapter 26

 

 

 

 

When we got to the apartment, Raul answered the door in his pajamas. 

“Sorry to keep bothering you,” I said to him, “but can we come in?”

Raul must have sensed something was off.  He just stared at us for a few seconds, as if trying to assess the situation.  “What’s going on? Did you find the real killer?”

“That’s what we need to talk to you about,” I said.  “Is your brother home?”

“He just went out to grab us some lunch.  He should be back in a few minutes, why?”

“May we come inside and wait for him?”

Reluctantly, Raul opened the door. 

“What do you want to talk to Derek about?” he asked.  “He has nothing to do with your case.”

“Maybe he does,” Carter said.  “In fact, we think Derek has been lying to you for some time.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Carter showed him the rap sheet on Derek.  “Do you know about his arrests?”

Raul glanced at it.  “Yeah, I know about that.  So what? He’s had some bad luck.  Doesn’t make him a bad person.”

“Bad luck?” Carter said.  “If it wasn’t a big deal, then why didn’t you tell your wife?”

Raul stood there, speechless.  Finally, he said, “If Jasmine knew about my brother, she would have kicked him out of the house.  I didn’t tell her because I thought Derek needed a chance to get his life together.  Besides, he’s been helping me get through the chemo.  I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“Look,” I said to him.  “We know how close you and Derek are.  He’d do anything for you, wouldn’t he?”

Raul took a step back and looked at me like an enemy.  “What are you getting at?”

I raised my hands defensively.  “All I’m saying is, if there was a way that Derek could help save your life, he’d do it, right? Even if it meant taking another person’s life.”

Raul’s face turned ghostly white.  I expected him to deny the implications, but maybe he knew in his heart that I spoke the truth.

Something caught Carter’s attention and he went to the window.  “Derek’s home.”

Raul stood frozen in place.  “What are you guys going to do? You can’t take my brother away from me.”

“We’re just gonna talk to him,” I said.  “And give him a chance to explain.”

The door opened, and Derek walked in with a brown paper bag in his hand.  When he saw me and Carter standing in his living room, his face went slack.  He looked at his brother and he must have known something was up. 

I didn’t have a chance to say one word to him because he dropped the paper bag and made a run for it.

Raul called out to his brother, begging him to stop, but it was no use. 

Carter grabbed my hand and yanked me out the door.  “Let’s go.  We can’t lose him.”

Chapter 27

 

 

 

 

High speed car chases are always an exciting element in a blockbuster movie starring Matt Damon or Bruce Willis but, in real life, there is nothing more terrifying than being inside a car going at a breakneck speed while weaving in and out of traffic as the mini malls and gas stations whiz by in a blur.

Derek’s blue Impala was two cars ahead of us.  He must have been going ninety miles an hour.

Thank God Carter knew what he was doing.  At least I hoped so - if he didn’t, he was putting on a good show. 

“Where is he planning on going?” I asked rhetorically. 

“Hold on.” Carter hooked a sharp right turn as horns blared at us from every direction. 

I grabbed the door handle for dear life and watched the contents of my purse spill out onto the floor.  “Damn it, would you slow down? It’s not worth getting into a car accident.”

“We’ve come this far, Sarah.  We can’t lose him now.  He’s got a guilty conscience or he wouldn’t have fled.” Carter rammed his foot down on the accelerator.  He grasped the steering wheel and leaned in, as if that would make the car go faster. 

“Looks like he’s headed to the turnpike,” I said.  “Maybe I should call the cops.  We do
not
want to be responsible for a two lane pile-up.”

We entered the southbound ramp of the turnpike, while trying to keep an eye on Derek’s car.  Carter took his foot off the pedal.  “Shit, you’re right.  Need to back off.  He’s gonna kill someone if he doesn’t slow down.

Carter kept following, but we kept on him at a safe distance.

“He’s a lunatic,” I said.  “He’s obviously not thinking straight.”

And then, Carter pointed to the road ahead.  When I looked up, I drew in a quick breath as the scene played out in front of us.  The blue Impala was heading straight for a concrete barrier wall.  I expected the screeching of tires on asphalt, but Derek did not appear to make any attempt to slow down. 

As if in slow motion, the Impala collided with the wall and folded like an accordion.  Shards of glass exploded.

Carter slammed on the brakes and pulled over into the breakdown lane. 

We got out and rushed over to the Impala as other cars slowed down and pulled over.  A few people got out to see if they could help.  Carter yelled to a woman to call 911. 

“Dear God,” I said out of breath once I approached the car.  “There is no way he survived this.”

Carter tried to open the driver’s side door, but it was jammed.  The car was mangled to the point of ridiculous and Derek was trapped inside.  His body was destroyed, flesh and bone crushed beyond recognition.  I turned away and almost threw up.

The sound of sirens in the distance gave me no comfort at all.  It was too late for Derek.

Chapter 28

 

 

 

 

There was nothing more Carter and I could do after the onslaught of police cars, ambulances and fire trucks took over the scene. 

I couldn’t watch as they pried Derek’s lifeless body from the wreckage.

It shouldn’t have ended this way. 

Why didn’t Derek just talk to us?

A police officer questioned Carter and me about our involvement in the accident.  Carter explained the situation, leaving out as many details as possible and, after forty minutes of that, we were allowed to leave.

Carter looked at me with sorrow in his eyes.  “I overreacted,” he said.  “I shouldn’t have gone after him like that.  It was a stupid thing to do.”

“You slowed down,” I reminded him.  “Derek didn’t have to run off like that.  Don’t blame yourself.”

Carter shook his head, his expression sullen.  “We may never find out the truth about why he poisoned Melanie.”

“We
have
to
find out,” I said,“because it’s obvious someone else is involved.  That is exactly why we can’t give up now, or all this would be for nothing.”

“Only thing we can do now is talk to Raul’s doctor,” he said.  “Maybe he can help.”

 

* * *

Dr. Fishburn was a tall, wiry man in his late forties with kind eyes and an affable smile.  I imagined he was well liked by colleagues and patients alike. 

Carter and I sat with him at a round table in the cafeteria drinking coffee.  He’d informed us that he only had a few minutes to talk, but seemed eager to help us.

“We know you’re not allowed to discuss patient information,” Carter said to him.  “But we have reason to believe that an anonymous donor might be an important link to a case we’re working on.”

Dr. Fishburn listened intently as Carter and I explained the situation with Raul Thompson. 

“I’m very sorry,” he finally said after listening to our spiel.  “I can’t tell you who the anonymous donor is, because I have no idea.  That’s why it’s anonymous.  However, there is an intermediary company you could contact.  Then again, they are paid to protect their client’s interests, so I doubt they’ll help you.”

“What’s the name of the company?” Carter asked.

“Fidelity Charitable Trust.”

“Thank you,” Carter said.  “Just one more question.  Is it common for people to donate anonymously to patients like Raul, who can’t afford certain medical treatments?”

Dr. Fishburn took a sip from his paper cup and said, “Common? No, I wouldn’t say that.  Usually, the big donors to the hospital prefer recognition for their contributions, not to mention the tax breaks.”

Carter scratched his head.  “So, don’t you think it’s odd that Raul was chosen specifically? Why not some other patient who needs a heart transplant? I mean, there are probably hundreds of other patients with life threatening diseases who could benefit from charity.”

“Yes, that certainly is true,” he said.  “But unfortunately I don’t have an answer for you.”

The doctor stood up from the table and offered us a nod.  “Well, good luck with your investigation.  I should get going.  I have patients to see.”

“We really appreciate your help, Doctor,” Carter said.  “Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule.”

I turned to Carter.  “Great.  Just another roadblock.  What do we do now?”

“I have an idea but it’s going to cost us.  There’s a guy I know, he’s done some work for me in the past.  He’s good with computers.”

“So, he’s basically a hacker?”

“Call it whatever you like, he gets the job done.”

“Okay,” I said, “Let’s pay him a visit.”

BOOK: Weapon of Choice, A
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