Liars, Cheaters & Thieves (14 page)

“No.”

It was worth asking. “Where were you Thursday night?”

“Me?” Hailey pointed to herself in openmouthed surprise.

“I have to ask.”

“Home.”

“What time did Jake come home from Pete’s Pad on Thursday night?”

“I don’t know.” She looked confused.

“But you were home.”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t hear Jake come home or speak with him?”

Hailey gave a tiny shake of her head, as though Evans might be stupid. “I don’t live with Jake. I left him months ago and filed for divorce.”

Evans was taken aback. “You didn’t see him at all on Thursday?”

“No.”

“Interesting.” On her notepad, she wrote
Pittman lied/alibi
.

“Can anyone verify that you were home Thursday night between ten and eleven?”

“My roommate was there.”

Evan got the name and contact information, then moved on. “What did you think of Rafel?”

“I felt sorry for him.” Hailey glanced toward the office door.

“Did you like him?”

“I liked him before he shipped out, but he was different when he got back.”

“How so?”

“I don’t want to speak badly about him.”

“I’m trying to find his killer. I need to know what was going on with Rafel.”

“He was withdrawn and depressed. But that seemed normal, considering his circumstances.”

“Why did you leave Jake?”

“We had money problems.” Hailey lowered her voice. “Why does it matter?”

“We’re looking for a motive for the killing.”

“Jake didn’t kill Rafel. They were best friends.” Hailey started to tear up. “No matter how broke Jake was, he wouldn’t let that affect his friendship. He loved Rafel.”

“How broke was Jake?”

“I supported him for a year after he got laid off. Being dependent on me made him mean.” Hailey looked at the office door again. “I really should get back.”

Evans remembered the fraud case with the phony veterans’ fund. “Did Jake come into any unexpected money lately?”

Hailey blinked. “I don’t know.” Her voice vibrated with stress.

“Did you ever hear him mention the Veterans Relief Fund?”

“Maybe.”

“Why are you protecting Jake?”

“I don’t know anything about his finances now.”

She was shutting down, so Evans let it go for the moment. “What do you think of Sierra?”

“She’s okay. The whole back-to-nature thing is a little weird to me, but then I’m a city girl.”

Evans remembered what the neighbor had overheard. “Did you ever hear Sierra threaten Rafel?”

“No, but I saw her kill a chicken like it was nothing. It kind of grossed me out, and I quit going to their barbecues.”

“Would Sierra have any reason to kill Rafel?”

Hailey hesitated, twisting a pen in her hands. “Rafel thought she was cheating on him.”

“With who?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t spend that much time with them.”

Evans knew there was more. “If she wanted out of the marriage, why not just leave him?”

Hailey glanced around, then whispered. “Most military men have life insurance. Rafel may have been worth more dead.”

CHAPTER 14

Jackson took Sierra to the interrogation room and gestured for her to sit. “Empty your pockets and give me your backpack while we talk.”

She let out a harsh laugh. “I don’t think so.”

“Then I’ll cuff you and do it myself.” If it came to that, he would wait for Evans and let a female officer search Sierra’s pockets, but he wanted to keep this simple if he could.

“You can’t cuff me and search me unless you arrest me.”

“I’m officially arresting you for obstruction of justice. Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“You win, fucker. Take the damn backpack.” She tossed it at him, and he had to react quickly to catch it. Sierra had already called him a few choice names when he’d threatened to cuff her and escort her past her peers at the market. But she’d grudgingly come along rather than be handcuffed in public. He’d allowed her to make a call, and she’d asked a friend to come down and close up her booth at the Saturday Market. Her lack of cooperation made her look as guilty as her fingerprints at the crime scene.

“Pockets too.”

She pulled a tube of chapstick from her front pocket and tossed it on the table, then shoved both hands deep into her jeans and turned the pockets inside out. “Happy now?”

“I’ll be back in minute with something to eat.”

He left her uncuffed, dropped her backpack in his desk drawer, and ordered two turkey sandwiches and Diet Pepsis from a nearby deli. While he waited for the food to be delivered, he called his team and asked them to come in. Next, he conducted a cursory search of Sierra’s pack: wallet, keys, knit vest, water bottle, paperwork for her pet-stuff business, and finally, in a small outside pocket, her cell phone. Too bad he couldn’t search it without a warrant.

He called the assistant district attorney, who still didn’t pick up, and left a message: “We’ve already got a match on Sierra Kent’s fingerprints to the syringe at the crime scene. So skip that paperwork.” Jackson started to ask him to write a search warrant for Sierra’s cell phone, but wasn’t optimistic that Trang was even working that day. They’d handle it themselves.

The food arrived, and he took Sierra a sandwich and soda. She wouldn’t look at him or speak. He set it down and went back to his desk. His team hadn’t shown up yet, so he wolfed down his sandwich and made a quick call to Kera, who answered right away.

“Hello, Wade.”

The sound of her warm, sexy voice was like a pain reliever kicking in. And she rarely called him
Wade
anymore because everyone else called him
Jackson
. “Hey, Kera. Sorry I didn’t call sooner. I’ve been working nonstop on this case, but I’ve missed you.”

“I know you’re on a homicide. I didn’t expect to hear from you at all.”

“We caught a break today, and I think I’ll have some time tomorrow. I’d love to see you.”

“Don’t you still have to unpack?”

“It can wait.”

“In that case, I’ll get Danette and the baby out of the house tomorrow afternoon so we can be alone.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Can you be here for lunch?”

Before he could respond, Evans rushed up to his desk, eyes popping with energy. He had his earpiece in, and his teammate didn’t realize he was on the phone. Evans blurted out, “We’ve got some stuff to catch up on.”

“I’ll meet you in five minutes,” he said quietly, waving her off.

“Sorry,” Evans mouthed, and walked away.

To Kera, he said, “I’ll call you tonight to confirm.” The line was silent. “Kera?” Had they been cut off, or had she hung up? A small stone of worry lodged in his gut. It was time to interrogate his suspect, so he texted Kera and said he’d see her tomorrow.

Operating from the same guilt, he made a quick call to his daughter, knowing she was at her mother’s and not likely to pick up. He left a message: “I’m just checking in to make sure everything is okay. Call me if you want to leave for any reason. I love you.”

He would have felt better if he’d actually talked to her. He was trying to be less overbearing, but Katie had been through so much with Renee’s alcoholism and relapses. He simply didn’t trust his ex-wife. If Katie were still ten instead of fifteen, he wouldn’t let her be alone with her mother. His daughter had learned long ago not to get into a car with Renee when she’d been drinking, but her mother’s mood swings could be damn near as damaging.

Schak hurried up to his desk, and Jackson snapped his mind back to work. “Let’s go question our suspect. I want you to watch
from the conference room. I called the DA, and he said he’d be here soon.”

“Will do.” Schak headed for the hall and Jackson followed. He liked to have an observer for interrogations when he could. Sometimes it was easier to spot a suspect’s reaction if you weren’t in the middle of it.

Evans joined them as they moved past her desk.

“What did you find out?” Jackson asked, knowing she had something to share.

“Pittman lied about his alibi, and Mazari may have had a life insurance policy. We need to ask about both.”

“We’ll add it to our long list.”

They stepped into the windowless space, and Jackson immediately felt the closet-size room begin to shrink. The dingy gray walls lacked a one-way observation window, but two years ago, they’d finally purchased a video recorder for the room. Once he got into interrogation mode, Jackson hoped the claustrophobia would fade and let him work.

Sierra was on the opposite side, facing them, looking gorgeous and defiant as ever. She wore a dark-green sweater and faded jeans, and her dreadlocks were gathered loosely behind her neck. Jackson wondered how much her hair weighed and if it gave her headaches.

He sat near the door, making Evans take the inside chair. He’d asked her to participate in the interrogation in case Sierra responded better to a woman. It was important for the whole team to be involved, including the DA, because this interview could prove critical to making their case in court. They needed at least a hint of a confession or an obvious pattern of lying to justify pressing charges against Sierra. Until Mazari’s toxicology report came back, they couldn’t even compare the residue in the syringe
to the substances in his blood. If there was no match, Sierra’s prints on the syringe would mean nothing.

He’d left the suspect uncuffed, but she hadn’t touched the sandwich or soda.

“I need a glass of water. I don’t drink this poison.”

Evans offered to go get the water, and Jackson asked her to bring coffee too. This would be another long afternoon.

He stated his name and the date for the camera. “I’m speaking with Sierra Kent, wife of murder victim Rafel Mazari. Ms. Kent has been read her Miranda rights and has declined counsel at this point. Is that correct, Ms. Kent?”

“Yes. I have nothing to hide and no money to pay a lawyer.”

“We found unlicensed explosives and unregistered guns in your house. You’re facing several serious charges.”

“The guns weren’t mine, and I didn’t know about the explosives.” Her chin came up and she pulled her hands to her chest. “I was shocked to come home yesterday and find the bomb squad at my house. I’m still spinning from all this.”

“Aren’t you a member of Territory Defenders?”

She shook her head. “No, and neither was Rafel.”

Jackson didn’t believe her but decided to come back to it later. “Let’s talk about the night of the murder, Thursday, November tenth. When did your husband Rafel leave the house?”

“Right after dinner, around seven.”

“Did you know where he was going?”

“Yes. He said he was going to Pete’s Pad for a beer. It was pretty typical.”

“How did you feel about his drinking?”

“A little worried, but Rafel wasn’t an alcoholic.”

“Did it make you angry that he spent so much time away from home?”

“I told him it wasn’t fair to Adam, his son, but he didn’t seem to care.”

Evans came back with a bottle of water under her arm and two mugs of break-room coffee, which they hated but sometimes drank anyway. While Evans silently settled back in, Jackson kept his eyes locked on Sierra. He wanted to talk about Adam, but not yet. He had to establish the time line first. “What happened next?”

“Rafel called me and asked me to come down to the tavern. He sounded upset.”

“What time was that?”

“Maybe a quarter to eight.”

“What exactly did he say?”

“He said we needed to talk.” A little frustration in her voice. “He indicated he’d made a decision about something important, but he wouldn’t say what.”

“When did you leave your house?”

“Around eight. I took Adam over to his aunt’s.”

“Where did you go after that?”

“To Pete’s Pad to talk to Rafel.”

“What time did you arrive?”

“I don’t know.”

“Tell me everything that happened in the tavern.”

“Rafel was sitting with his friend Jake, and I joined them. After a minute, Rafel said something like ‘I know you’re seeing another guy.’ I denied it, as always, because it’s not true.” She made a point to look him in the eye. “Then Rafel called me a liar and said he wanted to leave me.”

It was the first time she’d mentioned that. “Was Jake present when he said that?”

“Yes. Eventually, he got tired of our fighting and left the table, but I don’t think he left the tavern.”

“Did you see Jake Pittman again?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Did you see a man with a shaved head and a beard at the tavern?”

Sierra looked a little confused. “No. Why?”

“Does Rafel have any friends matching that description?”

“Not that I know of.”

Jackson paused, letting Evans know she could step in.

His partner took the cue, leaning toward the suspect. “Were you hurt when Rafel said he wanted to leave you?”

“Of course. I had no idea he was even thinking about it.” Sierra looked at her hands.

Was she distressed or lying?

“Were you a little angry too?” Evans prodded.

“I was tired of the accusations, tired of the fighting. Maybe I was a little relieved.” Sierra bit her plump lower lip.