Authors: R. E. Bradshaw
“Playing poker with me and Leslie is probably not the smartest thing you’ve ever done. A behavioral analyst and a psychologist, both trained to read body language. Nope, not in your best interest.”
“That’s okay,” Molly said, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I’m an attorney and devious by nature. I will prevail. By the way, teaching Katie to play poker was not your best move, either. I believe she cleaned you out the last time. You, my friend, cannot bluff your wife.”
“Can you believe she went all-in with me, holding only a pair of sevens, with face cards on the table?”
“And you had?” Molly asked, like they were two old friends just chatting on the veranda, not an attorney with a client under arrest for murder.
Rainey liked that about Molly. She stayed in control. The only time Rainey had ever seen Molly flustered involved Leslie and a very wet tee shirt.
“Well, I had nothing, but –”
“Give it up, Bell. Katie reads you like a book. You don’t even have the secrets you think you do.”
Rainey laughed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
The door opened, and in walked Rex King and Wiley Trainer. The jovial mood instantly left. Molly put her hand up in front of Rainey, signaling her to remain quiet. This was Molly’s area of expertise, not Rainey’s. Hers was on the other side of the table, trying to question a suspect while people like Molly thwarted that effort. She was happy to let Molly do her thing.
Rainey kept telling herself this would all be an amusing story one day. She chose to ignore her knowledge of wrongfully convicted individuals, who served years in prison before being proven not guilty. What kind of evidence could they have anyway? She did not do it.
“Ms. Kincaid, it’s a pleasure, as always,” Wiley said.
“Nice to see you again, Captain Trainer, and if we could dispense with the pleasantries, would you mind explaining why my client, whom you trusted in a hostage situation last night, is sitting here in handcuffs this morning?”
“Well, Rainey,” he said, directing his answer to her. “It seems we have a ballistics match on your Glock 19 with the bullets removed from one Bernard “Bobo” Jackson at an early morning autopsy.”
“How could you have—”
Molly cleared her throat and made a face at Rainey. “Really, why am I here?” she asked her wayward client.
Rainey acquiesced and shut her mouth.
“As my client was about to ask, how could you have a match that fast? You just took her weapon into evidence an hour ago.”
“Your client,” Rex said, smirking at Rainey, “used that weapon to shoot Jared Howard in 2011.”
“In self-defense,” Molly said, making sure to get that on the interview transcript Rainey was sure was being recorded in the other room.
Rex droned on, as if she never spoke, “Therefore, there was a record of that weapon in the system. The lab is double-checking the results with the Glock removed from your client’s car. What, Rainey? You didn’t have time to dump the weapon before the cops showed up in your backyard this morning?”
Molly chuckled. Rainey did not see the humor in the situation. The word “FRAMED” screamed out in her brain in bold capital letters. This asshole was going to put her in prison with evidence he fabricated. She was just about to say that when Molly started talking.
“I see the handy work of the same ambitious prosecutor and the detective with a vendetta involved in the last fiasco of assigning blame where there was none. Prove my client’s gun was involved in the shooting and then we’ll talk. Until you do, I’m assuming you will be releasing her.”
Wiley rubbed his chin, thinking a moment before replying. “Well, we do have this record match.”
Molly stood up. “And computers have the wrong data uploaded to them every single day. Until you have a match to the weapon that was removed from my client’s car this morning, you have no grounds to hold her.”
Rex came unglued. “You’re not seriously considering letting her go, are you? She’ll run. She knows she’s caught.”
“My client is well respected. In fact, this very police department uses her services frequently. She has a wife, children, and strong ties to the community.”
“Those are not her kids and that sham lesbian marriage isn’t enough to keep her here. Those ties don’t bind like a real marriage,” Rex spat, nearly foaming at the mouth.
Before either Molly or Rainey could respond, Wiley turned to Rex. “Now, that’ll be enough of that. Do you have any evidence other than the old ballistics match?”
“The security cameras at the hospital show her leaving just before Bobo was killed not two blocks from there,” Rex argued.
Molly jumped in. “That’s it? That’s all you have. How many other cars left the hospital or were in the area when Mr. Jackson was shot? Who else knew he was a paid informant? Have you spoken to the security firm that logs my client’s comings and goings from her home? Did she have time to commit this crime?”
Molly would not have asked the questions, if she did not already know the answers. She had spent the time Rainey was in custody, making the case for her client’s innocence. She continued to chastise Rex.
“You haven’t done your homework detective. You jumped the gun, so to speak.” Molly finished with a satisfied smile that spread to Rainey’s face.
“All right,” Wiley said, standing. “Give me your hands.” Rainey held out her wrists, while he unlocked the cuffs. “I’ve known you since you were a girl, Rainey, so I’m letting you go, but if your weapon matches the bullets taken from the body, then I expect you to come on in for a chat.”
Rainey spoke before Molly could stop her. “I didn’t kill Bobo Jackson, Wiley, and you know it. If those bullets match, you’ll have to testify that Rex here had my weapon last night and he took custody of it again this morning.” She glared at the mirror, knowing the prosecutor was behind the glass, watching. “Rex didn’t mention that when he came to you for a warrant, did he? He had ample time to manipulate the evidence. Look at it closely before you come after me again.”
“Are you accusing me of framing you? The O. J. defense, now that’s original,” Rex scoffed.
Molly had grown very interested while Rainey was speaking. They had not talked about the weapon being in Rex’s hands, because Rainey just learned of its significance a moment ago.
Molly launched into Rex. “You arrested my client for shooting a man with a weapon that you had in your possession not once, but twice in the last twelve hours. Did you allow anyone else access to the weapon? Was it in your sight the entire time? Is there a documented chain of custody? Did you want to make a case for tampering, or are you just that incompetent?”
Rainey couldn’t help herself. “She’s too nice to call you an idiot, but I’m not. Fuck off, Rex.”
#
Rainey exited the holding area, after having her personal items returned, and joined Molly in the hallway. They walked toward the lobby, while Rainey made a mental note to avoid ever being strip searched again at all costs. She spent her FBI career learning to think like the criminals she studied, examining their experiences closely. The strip search was one more thing with which she could now empathize, but would have happily existed without intimate knowledge of the experience.
She saw Katie waiting on the other side of the glass doors to the lobby. Ernie was there too. So much for following Rainey’s instructions. Rainey looked down at Molly.
“Would I go to jail if I put one of those shock collars on her, so she couldn’t leave the yard when I told her to stay home?”
“Yes, I’d advise against that. I think your best bet is to have a GPS chip implanted, so you can retrieve her when she strays.”
Rainey opened the door to the lobby, smiling at Molly. “I’ve actually looked into that, for her and the kids.”
Molly shook her head, saying, “Why does that not surprise me?”
Katie hurried toward them. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, and why are you here? I told you to go home.”
Ernie explained, “I told her to do what you said, but she insisted we needed to come bail you out of jail. I tried to tell her that a murder charge would have to wait for a bail hearing and your best bet was to let Molly here get them to let you go, but you know how Katie is.”
“Yes, I do,” Rainey said, but could not help the smile that crept onto her lips. “How is Mackie?”
“He’s scheduled for surgery in the morning,” Ernie said. “He’s fine. Junior told him you had been to see him while he was asleep. A little white lie, so he won’t worry about you.”
“Good thinking,” Rainey said. “You might want to hide the TV remote, too.”
“Thelma is on it. She’s not letting him watch any of the local or news channels, during the little time he is awake. He’s pretty doped up.”
“Agent Bell?” A man’s voice echoed off the marble walls and floor.
Rainey turned to see him coming toward her. She instinctively positioned her body in front of Katie, and said, “Not anymore, but I used to be. Can I help you?”
“I hope so,” he said.
As he grew closer, Rainey could see the anguish in his eyes. She also thought his face pinged a memory, but was not sure from where.
He extended his hand. “Colonel Patrick Asher, retired Army. I attended several of your lectures at Quantico, when I was still with the Criminal Investigation Command out of Fort Bragg.”
Rainey vaguely remembered his face. There were so many law enforcement personnel attending classes at Quantico, very few stood out.
“How can I help you, Colonel Asher?”
His eyes welled with tears. “It’s my daughter. She’s missing.”
“Have you contacted the police?” Rainey felt his pain, but at the moment, she had her hands full.
“Yes, but they are waiting for the BAU to get here. She doesn’t have that much time if this serial killer has her.”
Rainey knew people went missing all the time. Most of them were not victims of foul play. “What makes you think she was abducted?”
Colonel Asher pulled out his phone and tapped the screen while he talked. “She was supposed to call last night after she got home from class, but she didn’t. When her mother and I couldn’t reach her, I drove up from Fayetteville. I found her vehicle, not in her space, unlocked, keys in the ignition. Her book bag was on the front seat, with her phone and wallet still in it. This was up against the back tire.”
He turned the phone around to show Rainey the image of a hypodermic needle cap on the pavement, just under the edge of the tire. It was new and had not been there long. It had to have rolled there while the vehicle was parked. Colonel Asher was right, there did appear to be foul play afoot.
The Colonel had one more piece of the puzzle to add. “I talked to her last night. She was upset that this red truck kept parking in her assigned space, off and on for the past two weeks. That’s why she was forced to park at the end of the lot in the guest spaces. She was walking to her car, and saw the truck again. She commented on it, right before we hung up. I think that was him.” He tapped the phone screen again and pulled up another picture, this one the image of a vehicle door with a fresh ding in the paint. “Look at this. This is recent. It’s red paint, like someone opened a red car door into the driver’s side of her Jeep.”
“Did you show this to the investigators?” Rainey knew she was looking at possibly the only break in the missing women’s case.
“Yes, and I told them that I asked her to write down the tag number of the truck. It didn’t feel right. I don’t know if she did. She was in a hurry.”
“Where is the vehicle now?” Rainey wanted to know. “Maybe she did write it down and it’s in the car somewhere.”
“I didn’t see evidence of her doing that, but I didn’t poke around too much. I left everything in her Jeep as I found it and they sent a team out to bring it back to the forensics garage.” His frustration mounted. “I can’t wait around for paint test results or the BAU to pull someone off the inauguration threat assessments to come down here. At this point, she’s nobody’s priority but mine.”
Rainey had not thought about the inauguration. Danny and the team would be assisting the Secret Service and up to their elbows in the loony bin—the files where all the nuts were watched carefully for threats that might come to fruition. In addition to other legitimate threats, the loonies all had to be located, checked on, and detained if necessary to ensure the safety of those in attendance at the inauguration. Danny would be hard pressed to find someone he could afford to break away from such a monumental task.
“I’m sure the BAU is trying to free someone up as soon as possible and I know the locals are pursuing every lead until they get here,” Rainey offered as some reassurance that the Colonel’s daughter was somebody’s priority.
He was not placated. “You’re here now. They told me you were off the case, but you have to help me. That’s my daughter. She’ll fight as long as she can. I know she will, but she can’t hold out too long.” A single tear ran down his cheek. “I saw the pictures in the squad room of that woman they found this morning.” As hard as he tried to hold it together, he could not. His knees buckled a little. “Oh, God—Bladen. What is he doing to her?”
Rainey reached out to steady him. Her heart broke for the man, but what could she do? “Colonel Asher, I don’t know if they told you, but I’m under suspicion of murder. I’ve just been released from custody. I’m not sure how much help I can be.”
Asher pulled himself back together. “Sergeant Robertson said there was only this one rogue detective that even imagined you were involved. She said she had no doubt that you’d be cleared of the charges. She told me how to find you.”
It was good to know other people thought Rex was out of control, too.
“She said you backed off the case because of your family. I know I don’t have a right to ask you to put them in danger, but I don’t know where else to turn.”
Katie had heard enough and took charge. “Colonel Asher, Rainey will help you.” She turned to Rainey. “I will go home and stay there under lock and key with Gunny. You go help the colonel. Ernie and Junior will take care of Mackie.” She put her fingertips on Rainey’s arm, her voice soft. “If it were your daughter, you’d tear the world apart looking for her. Help him. You’re his only hope right now.”