Bullseye (3 page)

Read Bullseye Online

Authors: Virginia Smith

FOUR

K
arina stood beside the metal detector near the front guard’s desk, waiting for her purse and identification to be returned to her and trying hard to maintain an appearance of pleasant composure. Behind the mask the mercury in her temper’s thermometer was climbing upward. What was the matter with Alex? He’d never raised his voice to her before, not once. All his life he’d been an easygoing, cooperative kid. Now all of a sudden when he needed help in the worst kind of way, he turned into a stereotypical teenager, surly and stubborn.

Of course being in jail had to be wearing on him. He’d always been quiet, even a little shy, and had never been in any trouble. It must be hard, being confined with juvenile delinquents. She glanced around the tiny entry room at the painted concrete walls, the video camera suspended from the ceiling in the corner pointed in her direction, the high counter and thick safety glass embedded with wire mesh behind which the guards sat. No telling what kind of violent kids were in this place. Alex probably had to assume a fake tough-guy persona just to survive.

She pushed the thought away. If she spent time thinking of her baby brother at the mercy of hardened criminals and violent gang members, she’d lose her mind.

She turned her head toward Mason, who stood beside her. “I don’t understand why he said—”

He cut her off with a raised hand, a look of warning on his face. His eyes moved toward the uniformed guard seated behind the counter, and then back to her.

Karina snapped her mouth shut. Of course Mason was right. Anything they said could be overheard and potentially used against Alex. But for some reason the commanding expression on Mason’s face irritated her even further, and she had to clamp her teeth together in order to hold back a heated reply.

She’d been so relieved when Mason had agreed to come to Albuquerque and help her. But from the moment she saw him in the airport, she’d regretted her decision to call him. When had he become so sarcastic, his manner so biting? She’d watched him descend the escalator toward the baggage claim area, his eyes darting all around as if he was planning an escape route. She’d always been able to gauge his thoughts by his expression, and that ability had not faded in the years since he broke off their engagement. He was sorry he’d come, and given an opportunity, he’d board the next plane to Atlanta in half a heartbeat.

The female guard returned to the window with her purse and slid it, along with their drivers’ licenses, through the metal tray opening in the window. Karina snatched the purse and license, and left Mason to retrieve his own.

“Thank you.”

His voice and his wide smile toward the officer were overly polite, in her opinion. That irritated her even further.

She managed to hold her tongue until they stepped outside into the bright sunshine. Then she snapped, “Don’t tell me what to do, Mason.”

He looked surprised. “What are you talking about?”

Her pointy heels stomped the pavement a little harder than she intended as she marched toward her car. “You shushed me in there.”

His mouth opened to protest, but he stopped, nodded. “All right, I did. But you’ve got to remember that anything overheard during a visitation can be used in court.”

“I know that.” She clamped her lips shut. Why was she being so foul-tempered? He really was only trying to help. She slowed her step a fraction and drew in a slow breath. “I do know that,” she said more calmly. “And I definitely don’t want to do anything that could hurt Alex. What I started to say is I don’t know why he told the mugger they didn’t have any money.”

His eyebrows rose a fraction. “Did he have any?”

She nodded. “Two hundred dollars. The detention center gave it to me with the rest of his stuff after he was brought here. If he’d just handed over the money, José might not be dead now.”

They reached her car parked halfway across the parking lot. Mason stopped beside the passenger door while she rounded the front bumper toward the driver’s side. She pressed the unlock button on the keyless entry and heard the locks click open, but Mason made no move to get inside. Instead he watched her across the roof of the car, a measuring expression on his face.

“What?” she asked. “Why are you looking like that?”

“Karina, how truthful is Alex?” She drew a breath to jump to her brother’s defense. He was a good kid and he didn’t lie. But Mason stopped her with a raised hand. “I know what you’re going to say, and before you do, I want you to know he lied through almost that whole visit.”

Hot anger surged. How dare he waltz in here after being gone for so long and accuse her brother of dishonesty? “He did not!”

A long-suffering expression settled over Mason’s features. “Karina, if you’re going to argue with every word I say, why did you call me for help?”

“Well, maybe I shouldn’t have,” she fired back.

“Fine.” A touch of temper in his voice gave the word volume. “Take me back to the airport right now and I’ll go home.”

His glare across the roof of the car served to clear her head. Though part of her wanted nothing more than to drive him straight back to the airport, a bigger part was terrified to see him go. Irritating though he might be, Mason was the only person she knew who could help clear Alex of this accusation. After all, he had been in nearly the same situation a few years ago.

That thought doused the fires of her anger completely. Returning to Albuquerque must be really hard for Mason. Not only had his wife been murdered after only a few months of marriage, but he’d been accused of the crime. Just driving through the city must stir up some horribly painful memories. No wonder he was so bad tempered.

With an effort, she softened her voice. “I’m sorry.” She had to force the words out, but at least she said them. “I don’t want you to leave. But I do need you to believe that Alex didn’t kill José.”

Her words had the desired effect. The hard expression softened, and when he spoke the sharp edge in his voice had dulled. “I don’t think he did. But I’ve studied interrogation techniques, and his body language gave him away in there. He lied about what he and José were doing on the streets that night, and about how José was killed. Why would he lie?”

“I don’t know.” A memory arose from deep inside the twisted knot in her stomach. Alex cowering in the corner of his bedroom, his entire body trembling, his eyes round as hubcaps. “But you should have seen him that night, Mason. He was terrified.”

Something flashed across Mason’s countenance, an unreadable expression that was slightly alarming in the intensity with which he searched her face across the hot metal of the car’s roof.

Then his eyes moved as his gaze slid sideways to fix on something behind her. His brows gathered together beneath deep creases in his forehead.

“Is that a friend of yours over there?”

She turned her head to follow his gaze.

Her chest squeezed tight around her suddenly thudding heart. It was the same dark car that had been parked outside her apartment yesterday morning. A muscular arm lay casually across the open window, and the same man stared at her through dark sunglasses. Once again, the invisible gaze felt heavy with menace.

She gasped. “That’s him! That’s the man who was outside my apartment yesterday.” She jerked her car door open, her instincts telling her that the best course of action was to jump inside and lock the doors.

On the other side of the car, Mason straightened. Without hesitating he headed toward the dark car with a long-legged, determined stride.

Before he’d taken three steps, the car sped away.

FIVE

M
ason snapped his seatbelt into place and tried not to glare at Karina. “Why didn’t you tell me on the phone that someone was watching your apartment?”

He tried to tame his tone, but judging by the way her dark eyes snapped sideways at him as she turned the key in the ignition, he didn’t do a very good job.

“Because I didn’t see him until after we hung up. And you were so abrupt and rude on the phone I wasn’t about to call you back.” The engine roared to life with an excess of gasoline from the force of her foot on the pedal.

She has a point. I probably wasn’t very nice to her.

But what did she expect after practically coercing him into coming back here, to the place where memories stabbed at him like poisoned darts? Everywhere he went in this town, ugly reminders would rise to taunt him with his failures. His broken engagement. The pain and betrayal in Karina’s face when he told her he was in love with someone else. His brief marriage, and of course, his dead wife.

Not Karina’s fault. She was the victim in our relationship, an innocent bystander who got her heart broken. By me.

He turned his head to stare through the windshield. That, of course, made things a hundred times worse. He’d much rather be the dumpee than the dumper. Living with the aftermath was easier.

She steered the car from the parking lot onto Second Street. The black sedan was nowhere in sight, not that he would have followed the guy anyway. Not with Karina in the car. Coming so closely on the heels of Alex’s request to protect his sister, the man’s presence had served to emphasize that there was a real need. A real danger.

Why hadn’t he been quick enough to note the license plate number before the car sped off? All he had to go on was that it was a black Chevy Impala, probably an ’07 or an ’08, and how many thousands of those were there in Albuquerque?

“Turn left up here.” He pointed toward an upcoming intersection. She gave him a questioning glance, but he went on before she could ask. “I found out something else you neglected to tell me. Why didn’t you tell me the name of the investigating officer?”

He’d made a phone call yesterday, the conversation fully as painful as he’d expected. But there was only one person in all of New Mexico that he could still trust, and that was Parker Harding, his former partner on the police force and the man who’d been his primary support in the aftermath of Margie’s death. Talking to him was like prying open an old wound with a tire iron.

Karina’s shoulders sagged, and she avoided his gaze. “I didn’t know how much to tell you. I knew how…unpleasant coming here would be for you. I was afraid to scare you off before you even got here.”

“Hmm.” Unpleasant. Well, that was the understatement of the century. “Turn right on Griegos and head for Rio Grande Boulevard.”

She switched on her turn signal, glanced back and changed lanes. “Where are we going?”

“I warned you on the phone all my contacts are four years old, but we’ve got to start somewhere. I gave Parker a call last night to let him know I’d be in town. He’s expecting us.”

He hadn’t seen his former partner and best friend since he put the nightmare of Margie’s death behind him and high-tailed it out of New Mexico. Mason felt a little guilty about that, because Parker had been staunchly supportive even during the hardest parts of the ordeal, when the newspaper headlines and television newscasters were daily convicting him of killing his wife. But the plain truth was when Mason crossed the Georgia state line, he left
everything
behind. Every painful part of his past, including his friends.

No doubt the first few minutes of their reunion would be tough, with the inevitable platitudes about the passage of time and questions about how he was doing. If he could manage to make it through those first awkward moments, then maybe he’d learn something that could help him clear Alex before anyone got hurt. Especially Karina.

* * *

Four years sat heavy on Parker. When he opened the front door of his home, Mason couldn’t help but notice that his old partner was thicker around the middle than he used to be, and a sprinkling of gray decorated the temples of his military-style haircut. The same ready grin broke free on his face, though.

“Hey, buddy!” Before he knew what was happening, Mason was caught up in a hearty embrace, his back thumped enthusiastically. “It’s been a long time, way too long.”

It took Mason only a moment to recover from his surprise and return the hug. Thankfully the display ended before things got awkward. Parker released him, and his features became solemn.

Mason braced himself.
Here it comes.

“So, how are you doing?” Parker asked, his voice loaded with unspoken meaning. “Are you okay?”

No doubt what he was referring to. Long-ignored memories buzzed around Mason’s brain like a swarm of killer bees. The unexpected knock on the apartment door in the late afternoon. Chuckling to himself, thinking Margie had forgotten her house key again. Finding Parker on his doorstep, his
expression tormented. The terrible news falling from his lips like blows against Mason’s heart.
Sarge called, thought I should be the one to tell you....Margie’s been shot…head wound…ambulance…didn’t survive…
Shock had rendered him numb, the words nonsense. But Parker’s expression had been impossible to escape. Or to forget. The grief, the agony, the compassion.

Mason steeled himself, forced a smile. “Fine. Everything’s fine.”

“Good. I’m glad.” Concern faded and his eyes became guarded when he noticed Karina standing on the concrete porch beside him. “Hello, Karina.”

Her only answer was a stiff nod while she clutched the purse strap hanging from her shoulder.

Great. She’s holding a grudge against my only reliable contact in New Mexico. And Parker knows it, too.

Only to be expected, he supposed, since Parker had arrested her brother. Karina was smarter than to blame him for Alex’s situation, though. She’d better get over her antagonism soon, because Mason was coming up short on people to ask for help in this mess.

“Can we come in?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course.” Parker stepped back into the house and gestured for them to enter.

Mason waited until Karina crossed the threshold, then followed her inside. His glance circled a cavernous but empty entry hall while Parker closed the door behind them. A living room off to one side was sparsely furnished with a battered but sturdy coffee table and end tables, and the same worn sofa and matching chair he remembered from Parker’s apartment years before. A set of carpeted stairs to the right led to the upper floor.

“Nice house,” he commented. “You lived here long?”

“I bought it a couple of years ago. Decided it was time to make an investment instead of throwing my paycheck away on rent every month.”

“Nice. Your decorating taste hasn’t improved any since I saw you last, though.” Mason accompanied the jab with a friendly grin.

Parker followed his glance to the living room, then laughed. “Yeah? Well, I don’t spend much time in there. But take a look in here.”

They followed him past the stairway to the place where the short entry hall opened into the main part of the house.

“Wow.” Mason stopped and sent an admiring glace around. “Now
that’s
what I’m talking about.”

A great room ran the length of the house, with a kitchen on the left and a long den on the right. A big stone fireplace dominated the far wall, and a large flat-screen television hung suspended between two windows along the back. Plush leather recliners and a sofa were arranged around the television. Though devoid of decorating touches, the room had everything needed for a guy’s haven, the perfect place to kick back on a Sunday afternoon and watch the big game.

“Yeah, that fireplace is why I bought the house.” He rubbed his hands together and winked. “Let me tell you, man, it’s popular with women on a cold winter night after a romantic dinner.” The grin halted half-formed on his lips, then faded into chagrin when he caught sight of Karina’s hard stare. “Uh, anyway. The house is great.”

Same old Parker. He always was a ladies’ man. Apparently he continued to enjoy female attentions while avoiding matrimonial entanglements, just like always.

“Anyway, grab a seat.”

He dropped into one of the recliners, and Mason took the other. Karina, her demeanor silent and disapproving, perched on the edge of the thickly cushioned sofa, her knees together and her purse clutched in both hands in her lap. Her attitude was beginning to grate on his nerves.

“We just came from talking to Alex at juvy.” Mason forced himself to relax against the soft leather.

Parker’s expression settled into one of polite inquiry. “Yeah? How’s he doing?”

Mason shrugged a shoulder. “As well as can be expected. Insists he didn’t do anything wrong.”

His friend responded with a snort. “Every caged bird sings that song.”

On the sofa Karina’s posture stiffened even further as she drew herself up. “He
didn’t
do anything wrong.”

Mason cast a warning glance in her direction, then spoke to Parker. “I know you can’t tell me anything official because you’re involved in the case, but anything you can give me off the record would be great. I’ve got nothing to go on.”

He seemed to consider the request for a moment, then gave a slight nod. With a glance in the direction of the sofa, he angled his body slightly toward Mason. “Look, neither of these kids have been in any trouble before, but they both have a rep. There’s been talk of gang affiliations for a few months now.”

“That’s a lie.” Karina was on her feet in an instant. “Alex and José don’t run with gangs. They aren’t that kind of teenager.”

Parker’s impatience flared. “Yeah? What kind of teenager runs the streets of Albuquerque at two in the morning? And don’t tell me you buy that lame story of going out for a harmless walk.” His lips twisted. “I’m
sure
there are lots of harmless activities that go on in a dark alley at that hour.”

If Mason thought he had a corner on the sarcasm market, he was wrong. Parker had him beat hands down, and his tone would slice through steel. It stopped Karina in her tracks.

Besides, he was right. Alex’s story of taking a harmless walk in the middle of the night was clearly untrue. He’d seen it on the boy’s face.

But Karina’s crumpled expression reached down deep inside him and twisted. She sank slowly back to her seat looking suddenly small.

“Look,” Mason told Parker, “we don’t know what was going down, and Alex is clammed up tighter than a rusty lug nut. But whatever happened that night, I haven’t seen anything to convince me he killed that kid.”

Parker held up a finger. “The dead kid’s blood on his hands and clothes.” He extended additional fingers as he listed the evidence. “A stolen handgun on the ground beside him, which turned out to be the murder weapon. His prints all over it. No corroborating witnesses to the presence of a mugger. Pretty convincing if you ask me.”

Karina spoke, but this time in a more subdued tone. “José died in his arms. That’s how the blood got there.”

The look Parker gave her bordered on pity.

“Actually the blood supports his claim, if you ask me,” Mason said. “If he’d shot his friend, wouldn’t he have taken off immediately? He wouldn’t have stuck around long enough to get covered in blood.”

Parker tilted his head, considering, and then conceded the point with a nod. “That makes sense.”

“Besides, what’s the motive? That’s what I keep coming back to. These kids were friends.”

“Yeah, but they’re also teenagers with known gang affiliations.” He shot a quick glance toward Karina and corrected himself. “
Suspected
gang affiliations. But gangsters or not, you know how hotheaded teenage boys are. They could have had an argument, lost their tempers, took things a little too far.”

“No.” Karina said it quietly, but with certainty. “Alex would never let an argument go far enough to lose control like that. He’s my brother. I’ve been with him every day since he was born, and I know he would never hurt anyone no matter what.”

Parker matched her volume and spoke with equal control. “I’m sure he’s a great kid under normal circumstances. But drugs make people do terrible things that they would never do if they were straight.”

Her jaw dropped, as though she were stunned momentarily speechless. Mason had wondered if drugs could have been a factor, but he’d been hesitant to ask Alex with his sister in the room.

“Did you find anything on him?” he asked.

Parker shook his head. “But I checked with the lab this morning. High levels of THC and trace amounts of methamphetamine in both of them.”

Meth. Mason gave a low whistle. That stuff made people crazy. But if there were only traces of meth, then at least Alex wasn’t messed up when the crime occurred. But the presence of any street drugs at all, especially meth, would look bad with the judge. And high levels of THC meant Alex had probably been smoking marijuana that night.

“I can’t believe it.” Unshed tears sparkled in Karina’s shocked eyes. Her hands lay limply in her lap. “Alex is on drugs? It can’t be true.”

Parker answered in a gentle tone. “I’m sorry. Blood tests don’t lie.”

Something still didn’t sound right. Mason leaned forward, arms resting on his knees, thinking out loud. “So he wasn’t tweaking Friday night or there would have been more than a trace of meth in his blood.” He looked at his old partner. “Pot makes you mellow, not antagonistic. That sounds even less like José’s death was the result of an argument gone bad. So I still can’t see a motive.”

Parker stared at him a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t know, buddy. That’s the D.A.’s job. I just do the legwork.”

Which was exactly what Mason was there to do—legwork. Only he’d be searching for evidence to clear Alex of any wrongdoing, not to convict him. At least he had inside help from his old partner. It was almost like old times, working together to dig up evidence the district attorney could use to get a conviction on the criminals they’d arrested.

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