Personal Justice (17 page)

Read Personal Justice Online

Authors: Rayven T. Hill

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Retail, #Thriller

Lisa narrowed her eyes as if considering that. Then she nodded curtly. “Fair enough.”

Annie removed her hand from the mike. “As I said, the police have not made an arrest in the murder of either Werner Shaft or Michael Norton. It’s still an ongoing investigation, and there’s nothing else I can tell you at the moment.”

Alma backed from the doorway and the door slammed behind her, making Annie jump.

“Thank you, Mrs. Lincoln,” Lisa said, forcing a smile. She signaled to Don and the red light blinked off.

Annie stepped back in the house as Lisa and Don turned and made their way back to the Channel 7 News van.

“You shouldn’t talk to those people,” Alma said, when Annie returned to the kitchen. “You don’t need to get your face out there for every crazy to see.” She moved into the hallway. “I must go now. Please be more careful.”

Annie watched her mother march out the front door, then shook her head and went to the garage. Jake sat on a wooden box, fiddling with something that appeared to have come from a car engine. Matty stood beside him. They looked up when Annie entered.

“You guys can come out of here now,” she said. “The danger is past.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 32

 

 

 

Wednesday, 7:05 p.m.

 

HANK FELT WEARY. It had been a long day following a late night the evening before, and combined with the emotional events of the day, he was ready for a long rest.

But his mind wouldn’t quit. He ran the facts of the case over and over in his head, trying to devise a working scenario he could run with, but nothing seemed to fit.

His desk was littered with folders, printouts, and reports, each one holding pieces of the puzzle he couldn’t bring together into something cohesive.

He plugged the flash drive Annie had given him into his computer and listened intently to her conversation with Michael Norton. The caller put the blame squarely on the shoulders of Rocky Shaft for the murder of Werner Shaft.

Other than that accusation, the only thing pointing to Rocky was his threat to kill Norton. It was reason enough to question him further, but unless an interview revealed something incriminating, he had no reason to hold him.

Hank dug through the stack of folders, pulled out the report on Rocky Shaft, and flipped it open. Shaft had a record of an assault that took place many years ago. He served thirty days, was released, and stayed clean since. That offense, combined with the threat on Norton, could mean he had an anger problem.

It could also mean Shaft’s threat was due to the grief of his brother’s death. Any good lawyer would argue that.

Hank sat back and closed his eyes. If Rocky and Werner Shaft, along with Norton, were involved in the drug money heist Norton mentioned, and the dealers were out for revenge, that could explain everything—except the evidence against Norton for Shaft’s murder.

He opened his eyes, leaned forward, and made a note to get King to check on any heist that might’ve taken place in the drug world a few months ago.

He looked at his watch, picked up the phone, and called Rocky Shaft. Shaft just got home from work, and though at first he balked at a visit from Hank, he gave in and agreed to an interview. Hank didn’t see the need to bring him in to the station. He wasn’t going to arrest him. Besides, Hank might have a few questions for Maria Shaft as well.

Detective King had left for home some time ago. Hank didn’t care to have him in on this interview, anyway. He wanted to keep it civil, and King had a way of putting people on edge at the wrong time.

He swept together the reports and folders, tucked them into his briefcase, and left the quiet precinct.

When Hank arrived at the Shaft residence, Maria’s dark-green Mazda wasn’t there. The only vehicle in the driveway was a red Ford pickup. Rocky had been at work the last time Hank visited, but from the printouts, he knew the vehicle was Rocky’s.

Hank parked at the curb, grabbed his briefcase from the passenger seat, got out, and went to the pickup. There was a tarp in the back, neatly folded. There wasn’t much else there. A spare tire, a length of nylon rope, a red, metal toolbox. Hank wanted to lift the lid but that would constitute an illegal search. He wondered if the box held more than screwdrivers, wrenches, or pliers.

He turned, strode up the pathway, and rang the bell. Rocky Shaft answered the door after the second ring, stepped back, and beckoned him in.

“What’s this all about?” Shaft asked after they took a seat in the front room. “Did you find my brother’s killer?”

Hank snapped open his briefcase and laid it on the couch beside him. He looked at Shaft. “I’m afraid I have nothing conclusive to report, Mr. Shaft. We’re still looking into the evidence, but I have a few questions for you.”

Shaft sat back, frowned, and crossed his legs. “Fire away. And call me Rocky.”

“Rocky, this afternoon Michael Norton’s body was found. He was murdered.” Hank eyed the man closely, watching for his reaction.

Rocky’s eyes shot open and he stared at Hank, unblinking. “I hope you don’t think I had anything to do with that?” he asked at last, his eyes narrowing.

“You threatened to kill him,” Hank said.

Rocky sighed. “Yes, I did.” He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “I was angry because I think he killed my brother. But I didn’t mean it.”

“Perhaps not,” was all Hank said. He reached into his briefcase, removed a folder, and flipped it open. “Mr. Shaft … Rocky, on the evening of your brother’s murder, you left work at 7:00. Where did you go after that?”

“I came straight home.”

“And yet, when I called that evening, no one answered the phone.”

“I live in the basement apartment. I was down there and I wouldn’t have heard the telephone.”

“Were you alone all evening?”

“Yes, I was.” Rocky frowned. “Do you think I had something to do with my brother’s death?”

“I’m trying to fill in the blanks,” Hank said. He flipped over a page in the folder, studied it a moment, and asked, “Where were you today between the hours of 12:00 noon and 3:00 pm?”

“I was at work.” Rocky paused. “I went out for lunch at 12:30 and was back by 1:30.”

Hank pulled out a pen and made a note. “Where did you go?”

“Marcy’s Deli. Down the street from where I work at Richmond Distributing.”

Hank made another note. “Did anyone see you there?”

Rocky shrugged one shoulder and sat back. “It’s a busy place. I have no idea.”

“Do you have a receipt for the meal?”

Rocky’s face darkened and he spoke sharply. “I don’t keep the receipts.”

Hank nodded, made a note, and flipped another page. “Do you own a gun, Rocky?”

Rocky’s nostrils flared. “No.”

Now for the big question. “What can you tell me about the drug money heist you were involved in a few months ago?”

Rocky seemed genuinely bewildered. “What are you talking about?”

Hank waved the paper. “According to this, you, Werner, and Michael Norton, heisted some money from drug dealers.”

Rocky exploded from the chair. “I don’t know where you got that information, and I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was never involved in anything like that.”

“Relax, Mr. Shaft,” Hank said, waving toward the chair. “Sit down, please.”

Rocky folded his arms, his face reddening. “I don’t have to sit down. This interview is going nowhere, and you’re accusing me of things I had nothing to do with.”

Hank looked up at the angry man and spoke calmly. “I’m not accusing you. I’m asking about allegations others have made.”

“Do I need a lawyer?” Rocky asked, his thick brows in a tight line.

“Not unless you’re guilty of something.”

“The only thing I’m guilty of is trying to find out who killed my brother.” Rocky’s voice became shrill. “I don’t care who killed Norton. Frankly, I’m glad he’s dead, because I think he killed my brother, and you’re wasting my time.” He pointed toward the foyer. “This interview is over. Please leave.”

Hank packed up his briefcase, snapped it shut, and stood. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Shaft. I’ll be in touch with any developments.”

The door slammed behind Hank as he left the house. He wasn’t sure what he’d gotten from this interview, but one thing was certain, Rocky Shaft was a very angry man.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 33

 

 

 

DAY 4 - Thursday, 8:45 a.m.

 

ANNIE HAD HOPED a good night’s sleep would clear her mind and allow her to come up with something new, but after bustling Matty off to school and finishing her second cup of coffee, all she could do was sit at her desk and stare at her notes.

Jake wasn’t much help, either. He had wandered around the house like he was lost before heading downstairs for his morning workout. Annie could tell his mind was busy, and when he came into the office and slouched back in a chair, she knew he had drawn a blank.

She asked him anyway, “Come up with anything?”

“Nope.”

Annie sat back. “Usually there’s a clear cut motive—somebody benefits from another’s death, but I’m not seeing anything this time.”

“If it’s about the drug money, and Rocky Shaft is out to get it, he’s going to be careful for a while.”

Annie steepled her fingers, looked at Jake over top, and mused, “I wonder where they’re keeping the money.”

“Could be anywhere. In a locker. Under somebody’s floorboards. Not likely in a bank account.”

“If Rocky Shaft is the killer, he knows.”

“He’s not gonna go near it,” Jake said. “Especially if his accomplices are dead. He knows it’s safe.”

“Perhaps,” Annie said. “But if he’s as greedy as Norton suggested, he might not be able to keep his hands off it.”

“You might be right, but he’d have a hard time spending any of it. They’re watching him too closely.”

“There’s still a possibility of an affair going on between Maria and Rocky Shaft.”

“Sure,” Jake said. “But why kill Norton?”

“Because he found out about it?”

Jake drew his legs in and leaned forward. “So Rocky kills his brother, frames Norton, and then kills Norton too? Doesn’t sound logical. By killing Norton, it leaves an unsolved murder, and puts Rocky in the spotlight.”

Annie blew out a breath and shook her head in frustration. “You’re right. Doesn’t make sense.”

Jake frowned. “Here’s another crazy scenario. Do you think it’s possible we’re looking at two separate and unrelated murders?”

Annie drummed her fingers on the desktop a moment. “I don’t think so. That’s too much of a coincidence.”

“You’re probably right,” Jake said, and slouched back down.

“Don’t feel bad,” Annie said. “You’re not the only one drawing a blank. Even Hank is stumped on this one.”

Jake yawned and said in an offhand manner, “Maybe we should visit the Shaft’s neighbors.”

“Perhaps that’s not such a bad idea.”

“You think so?”

“Do we have anything better to do?”

Jake stood. “I’m game.”

“We’ll take my car,” Annie said. She stood and went to the kitchen, got her handbag and keys, and met Jake at the front door.

A few minutes later, Annie pulled her Escort to the curb in front of the Shaft house. There was an empty lot on one side, a small brick bungalow on the other, separated from the Shaft house by an evergreen hedge.

“That’s our best bet,” Annie said, pointing to the bungalow. She pulled the car ahead thirty feet and stopped.

“What if no one’s home?” Jake asked.

“We’ll soon see. There’s a vehicle parked in the driveway.”

The door opened to Jake’s knock by an elderly man, a cane in one shaky hand, and he looked at Jake over top of a pair of reading glasses. “Yes?”

Jake introduced Annie and himself. “Could we ask you a few questions?”

The old man squinted at Jake, then offered Annie a smile. “Glad to help,” he said. “Sara and I don’t get a lot of visitors.” He stepped back. “Come right on in. Make yourself at home and don’t mind the cat and she won’t mind you.”

Water could be heard running from down the hallway, probably from the kitchen.

“Sara,” the man called in a shaky voice. “We got company.”

The water stopped, and in a moment, a woman appeared in the hallway, wiping her hands on an apron. Her gray hair was worked up into a bun, and a pleasant smile adorned her face as she shuffled toward them. She stopped and beckoned. “Bring them on into the kitchen, Abe. Where’s your manners?”

A jug of orange juice and a generous plate of baked goods were set in front of them almost before the Lincolns could pull back chairs and sit down.

Sara poured the juice and pushed the plate of goodies toward Jake. “Fill up on this, young man. You look like you could hold a few. And there’s plenty more where that came from.”

Jake thanked her and helped himself.

“Ma’am,” Annie began.

“You can call me Sara.” She pointed at the old man. “And this here’s Abe.” She patted Annie’s hand and beamed. “Sorry to interrupt, dear. You go right ahead.”

Annie smiled. The woman reminded her of everyone’s grandmother. “Sara, I don’t know if you’ve heard about Werner Shaft’s death, but we’re looking into it.”

“Dear me, what a dreadful thing that is. Yes, we heard about that. Shocking.” She looked at the old man. “Wouldn’t you say, Abe?”

Abe nodded. “Shocking. Indeed.”

“And how can we help, my dear?” Sara asked.

“Did you know Werner Shaft?”

“Oh, sure. Werner was a fine man. Can’t say as much for his brother.”

“Rocky?” Jake said, popping a chocolate square into his mouth.

“Has a bad temper, I’ll say that. Why he’s always after Abe about one thing or another. Isn’t he, Abe?”

“Sure is.”

“What about Maria? Do she and Rocky get along?”

Sara covered her mouth. “Don’t know as I should gossip ’bout this, but I think them two are up to something.”

“Such as?” Jake asked.

Sara leaned in and lowered her voice. “Well, they’re just too close. Many’s the time when they don’t think anyone’s watching and I see them in the back yard together.”

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