Authors: Andrew Hess
Chapter 4
-Ali
First day back on the streets and already found myself thrown into a homicide investigation. This was not how I pictured my morning. We spent an hour and a half going over the crime scene where the victim washed up and another two hours watching others comb the Hudson for any evidence. They didn’t turn up much and neither did we. In fact there was nothing turning up on our John Doe; not a car; not a wallet; nothing. It was as if he fell out of thin air and magically appeared on shore. My instincts were in overdrive. Fred and Rodney knew the look in my eyes. They could see the determination to find the truth. It was why Rodney gave the order for Fred to run every test imaginable to find out our John Doe’s C.O.D. (Cause of Death), what time he died and if there was any evidence of foul play.
By two that afternoon, Rodney and I returned to the station with evidence bags including a piece of paper with the victim’s prints on it.
“You got the bags; right partner,” I joked. Rodney may have been promoted to Detective, but it was still my job to bust his chops.
He shook his head in defeat and turned to go towards the stairs to the evidence room. “You can help you know.”
“I’m done with paperwork. I’ve been doing nothing but paperwork for months. It’s your turn now.” I caught him rolling his eyes but decided it was best not to argue with me.
I took advantage of the quietness of the station to run the victim’s prints through the system. It was difficult to get a good copy of them at first. The pruned fingertips did not work well and took us several attempts to get a decent sample. I could only hope it was good enough to get us a match. Twenty minutes later, a rectangle appeared on the screen with the word Match etched in bold green letters. I clicked the button and saw the print was a match to a man by the name of Blake Ambrose. The picture wasn’t one of the usual types that popped up. Normally it was a mug shot of someone picked up for shoplifting or assault. In some instances we found people that were brought in for drugs or at least possession of drugs. But this man didn’t have a mug shot and he wasn’t a criminal. The picture I saw had a cleaned up, debonair looking man dressed in a suit with an award winning smile plastered across his face. There wasn’t a rap sheet to go along with the picture. The only pertinent information it provided was his job title; Dutchess County Defense Attorney.
A lawyer; someone offed a damn slime ball lawyer. The name Ambrose resonated with me and highly recognized as the guy to hire when you’re in deep shit and don’t have much of a case. He charged an arm and a leg for his services, but he had a high success rate of getting criminals we arrested off on technicalities. He had done this on more than one occasion with cases where I was the arresting officer. He was conniving and used his charm or superior education to talk circles around witnesses jamming them up on the stand. Part of me wanted to cheer and celebrate the news that the bastard was dead.
Maybe now we could keep a few scumbags in jail
. But the cop in me had to look at him as another victim. I was convinced someone killed him and I needed to get to the bottom of it.
“Rodney, I got a name for our DB.” His ears perked up. “His name was Blake Ambrose, a lawyer for…”
“I know who he is,” Rodney snarled. Apparently he also had some of his arrests overturned due to Ambrose’s winning ways. “I thought the victim looked familiar.”
Despite the way we felt about Blake Ambrose as an attorney, we still needed to treat this case like any other. “You wanna take his home or his office?”
“A man like that has too many enemies. How the hell are we supposed to narrow that kind of list down?”
“We can start by finding out where he was last night and how he got to the bridge. We can narrow down the list of suspects later.” Rodney agreed and decided to let me take Ambrose’s office. Knowing how sensitive the situation was, I decided it was best to take a unit with me. When we got to the glass doors of his office, it became apparent that we were not welcomed there.
“Oh no,” a woman said loudly as we entered. “Get out; get out now. Mr. Ambrose doesn’t have any meetings with the police scheduled. So unless you have a warrant…
“Relax lady,” Officer Reyes said. His hands were held in front of his chest in defense. “We’re not here to start trouble.” Reyes hadn’t been on the force long. He was a rookie cop that patrolled New Paltz. He worked a lot more since Nick DeFalco went on his killing spree. He even accompanied me to Connecticut to interview DeFalco’s girlfriend. Apparently he was my new lackey since my partner got bumped up to Detective.
I wasn’t happy with the way Officer Reyes spoke to the secretary. Although she probably deserved it, we were there on official business. My eyes darted to her desk and read the name plate.
“Dolores is it?” Her beady little eyes shifted towards me. “We are here on official police business, but not the kind you think.” I hated this part of the job. I hated breaking the news to anyone that someone they knew died. I took a deep breath. “I don’t know if you’ve seen the news today. We received a call of a dead body washing up near the Mid-Hudson Bridge.”
“So, what does that have to do with me or this firm?”
I ignored her question and continued without skipping a beat. “We were able to identify the victim from his fingerprints.” I could see the fear building in her eyes. She knew what was coming next. They all do. “I’m sorry, but they came up matching Mr. Ambrose.”
Streams of tears spilled out on her cheeks. “It’s a lie. This is just a ploy to allow you access to his files.” Dolores scurried back to her desk and picked up the phone.
“Who are you calling,” I asked.
“”First, I’m calling Mr. Ambrose to tell him you are trying to break into his office. Then, I’m calling your boss and filing a complaint against you and your doughnut munching cops.”
She glanced up at their badges trying to quickly write the numbers down. The phone clung to her ear, as she stabbed the numbers to call Ambrose.
“It’s no use lady,” Officer Reyes said. “Your boss is dead.”
“No, it’s not true.” Tears poured down her face leaving droplets on her desk. The phone fell landing next to the fresh water marks.
I turned towards Officer Reyes and shoved him back. “Don’t you dare say another word to her.”
“What the fuck did I do?”
“How many times have you told someone a loved one died?” The blank look on his face was confirmation that this would’ve been his first. “That’s what I thought. You need to stand in the corner and keep your trap shut until we get back to the station. Is that clear?”
He knew I wasn’t messing around. It might’ve been my first day back, but I wasn’t going to let this woman go without getting some sort of info from her. And the more Reyes talked, the harder that would be.
I turned back to Dolores. A floral box of tissues sat on the corner of her desk. I plucked a two of them from the small opening and handed them to her.
“I know this going to be hard to accept, but we’re sure it’s him. Do you know who his emergency contact or next of kin is?”
“He didn’t have a wife or any kids. He was an only child and hasn’t talked to his parents in years.” I wasn’t surprised. He seemed like the kind of guy that would push everyone away from him or stab his friends and family in the back to get ahead.
“I know this is hard, but when was the last time you saw him?”
“Are you insinuating I had something to do with this?”
“No ma’am,” I said softly. “I’m just trying to establish a timeline of where Mr. Ambrose was yesterday and who he came in contact with. I was hoping you could help us.”
The wheels were turning inside her head. She was cooking up something or was about to withhold some sort of information. The tears came to an abrupt halt. “He came in yesterday morning at nine and left at five.”
“Who did he meet with?” I knew that was going to be a difficult question to have answered. Attorney client privilege was going to get in the way. Knowing how Ambrose was, his secretary was going to keep a tight lip on who Mr. Ambrose met with.
“I think we’re done here. If you have any more questions, you can feel free to contact me through my lawyer.” She reached for a card. The name on it said Blake Ambrose. Just reading his name made her eyes well up again.
“Dolores, I really am sorry about this.” I took her hands sympathetically. They were frail cold hands. “Regardless of what anyone thought of him, I will find out who murdered him.” I handed her one of my cards. “If you remember anything that can help us, anything at all, please, give me a call.”
Her eyes were blurred with tears, but my name stood out. “Detective Ali Ryan. Hey, you’re that cop that took down that serial killer in New Paltz.” My cheeks turned a light shade of pink. She tilted her head towards me. “I’ll see what I can get you.”
I wanted to smile and give Dolores a comforting hug, but that wasn’t a smart idea. I couldn’t allow myself to get too emotionally attached to this case. That was my mistake last time. I became too involved in the case; too emotionally attached to it.
I escorted Officer Reyes out of the office and brought him back to the squad car. “You need to learn how to talk to people.”
“I’m sorry, but that asshole…”
“I don’t care what he’s done to you or anyone else in the past. He’s the victim here until someone can prove otherwise. We need to stay impartial, find evidence and piece the events of last night leading up to his death back together.”
Reyes nodded and got back inside his squad car. He drove off leaving me there to wonder where Blake Ambrose went when he left work.
Home, it was the one thing I used to look forward to. Now it was like coming back home to a horrible reality show that I called the Young and Depressed. For months I came home bitching about being stuck behind my desk. I’d come home to Amanda who sat either in front of the TV or looking out the window with a distant look in her eyes. Her breath usually had a hint of beer masked by the minty smell of gum or mouth wash. Our nights were mostly spent in silence with the exception of Matthew urging us to get out of the house. I was hoping tonight would be a little different.
I pulled up to the house and walked into the same mess I left this morning. Dirty dishes filled the sink, food was left all over the counters and kitchen table. The only difference was that Amanda found the willpower to walk the hundred something feet from her bedroom to the couch in the living room. She was dressed in a pair of gray baggy sweatpants that were two sizes too big along with an oversized sweatshirt. I called them dirty rags, but they were special to her. They were Shawn’s clothes. Amanda raided his closet after he died and kept the stash of them in her closet. I guess it was her way of feeling close to him. I was just happy she finally decided to change into something different.
“Have you been laying here all day,” I snapped.
She barely turned her head from the TV. “Yup.”
“Did you at least clean up your room?” Great, now I sounded like a nagging mother. Oh god; I was slowly turning into my mother.
“I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”
I’ll take care of it tomorrow. The ultimate blow off phrase every child, teenager and young adult loves to say. I wasn’t going to stand for it. Not in my house and not my sister.
I stood in front of her and pried the remote from her hand. I stabbed the power button thus eliminating the TV from the equation. Amanda tried to reach for it, but I pulled away.
“We need to talk.”
“Can this wait till later?”
“No, you need to listen for once.”
“Great, another lecture from my big sis.” She rolled her eyes at me and fell back onto the couch.
I wanted to smack her for doing that. There’s nothing more disrespectful than someone rolling their eyes at something you said. It’s like they’re saying whatever comes out of your mouth is stupid and pointless.
“You need to grow the fuck up!” That wasn’t how I expected to start the conversation. My words seemed to snap Amanda awake. She was now aware of what I had to say. This was my chance. “Look, I get that you miss Shawn and you’re still mourning him. But it was six months ago. You need to get on with your life.”
“You don’t get it. How could you? You’ve never lost someone you truly loved.” Amanda flipped the hood of the sweatshirt over her head and pulled the strings as if saying conversation over.
“You’re right; I’ve never lost someone I loved. But I’ve come close, and by the looks of you, it’s happening again.” Amanda peaked her head out of the hood. “I love you and you’re slowly killing yourself. All you do is sleep all morning, veg out in front of the TV all day and drink all night.”
“It’s my life Ali. You don’t have a say in how I live it.”
“You think Shawn would want you to live like this? You think he’d wanna be with a drunk or a slob?”
“Don’t you dare talk about him. You have no idea what he wanted or what he would’ve wanted. He loved me no matter what I did or what I looked like.”
“I don’t doubt that. The poor guy sacrificed his life for you and this is how you repay him.” Amanda jumped to her feet. Her stance suggested she was about to hit me, but I shoved her back down. Her butt hit the cushion as her feet flew into the air. “You need to listen for once.”
“You’re not mom. You can’t tell me what to do.”
“I can when you’re living in my house. But if you’d rather me call mom and have her drag your drunk ass home, we can do it that way too.”
“Fuck you and fuck mom!”
My right hand struck the side of her face. It was hard enough to leave a red mark. I regretted doing it the moment my hand touched her face, but it needed to be done. She was spiraling out of control and needed to snap her out of this. “You need to get cleaned up and get some help. I don’t care if you need to see a counselor, or if you need to go to rehab or if I have to get you committed. Either way, you’re going to get sober.”
Amanda’s pale complexion turned a bright shade of red. Hatred burned in her eyes. She knew I was right, and something I said finally broke the walls she put up. A single tear trickled down her face. For a brief moment, I saw the innocent twenty year old girl my sister once was.
“I just don’t know what to do anymore.” Tears tumbled from her eyes. “I loved him. He was everything to me.”
I threw my arms around her and hugged her tightly to my chest. “I know you did. He loved you too.” I patted the back of her head gently. “You need to talk about what happened. You can’t keep it bottled up.”
“I’m all screwed up. I hate my life. I hate what I’ve become. But the alcohol just makes me feel numb. It just doesn’t make me feel as sad.”
“I know, but you have to talk about it. I might not know what you’re going through, but I’ve been going through my own shit storm. The only thing that’s pulled me through it have been you, Matthew and talking to my therapist.”
Amanda’s red glassy eyes looked up at me. “Ali, I didn’t think…I didn’t know...” Talking to a therapist wasn’t something I liked broadcasting. In fact the only people that knew were Rodney, the Lieutenant, Matthew and of course my therapist.
“I wanna setup an appointment for you to talk to someone.” Amanda shook her head. I could tell the thought of it scared the hell out of her. But she was reluctantly agreeing. “I’ll book a session for you with my therapist, Dr. Barron, for later this week.”
I hugged Amanda tightly one more time before getting off the couch. I reached for my cell to book the appointment, but the phone vibrated in my hand. The name Matthew was displayed in green letters across the screen.
“Hey you. When are you getting home?”
“I should be there in twenty minutes. You girls wanna go out and eat tonight?” It was another attempt to get us out of the house. I wanted to. I wanted to celebrate my return to active duty. But I knew Amanda wasn’t ready to go out.
“Raincheck?” I hated blowing him off like that. “How about a dinner and movie at the house?”
He hesitated. The thought of spending another night locked inside the house was irritating him, but it was still better than spending it alone. “Sure, I’ll pick up the food. What are you girls in the mood for?”
“How about you surprise us and we’ll pick up a few movies?”
Amanda’s head lifted from the couch once I said we’ll pick up the movies. Once I hung up with Matthew, Amanda began her whining. “Do I really have to go with you?”
“Yup, you have no choice in the matter.” I smacked her leg lightly. Come on; I wanna get back before Matthew does.”
Amanda and I entered the movie store fifteen minutes later. It had been the first time we had been to this store since we moved. The Poughkeepsie location was much bigger than the one in New Paltz. There were more movies to choose from, more copies of new releases, even their candy display provided more options. We scoured the store for several minutes before meeting up in the comedy section.
“You see anything you wanna get,” I asked.
“Nah,” Amanda halfheartedly replied.
“Well, what are you in the mood for?” Amanda shrugged her shoulders as if it didn’t matter. I grabbed the first movie I could find. “How about this one?”
Amanda stared at the cover. It was a light blue cover. I didn’t bother looking at the title before I held it up. Tears welled up in Amanda’s eyes. I bent my wrist and glanced at what movie I picked up.
The Notebook; really? What were the odds I’d grab the biggest chick flick movie that was all about finding true love when that was the last thing we needed?
“Let me try another one.” It was nearly impossible to find anything without an underlying theme of finding love, fighting for love, sacrificing for love or losing the one you love. Even horror movies weren’t a viable option.
“It’s no use Ali. Just find something for you and Matthew to watch and I’ll sit in my room for the night.”
“No, we’re spending tonight together as a family.” It was weird to think of Matthew as part of our family. We’ve dated less than a year and gone through our share of ups and downs. But then again, he saved my life, and an innocent woman’s life while helping me stop a psychopathic serial killer.
“Come on Ali; you two need some alone time. I’ll be quiet and stick to my room. You guys can do whatever you want.” Amanda was hell bent on staying away from us tonight.
“Okay, fine. You win.” I walked back towards the new release wall with Amanda trailing behind me. I grabbed two movies off the shelf and turned towards the front of the store. Amanda was no longer behind me. She was frozen to the spot at the end of the comedy aisle. Tears poured down her inflamed red cheeks. I rushed to her side. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Amanda clutched a movie to her chest. It was one that I briefly noticed before. It was a white cover with green and pink colors on it. I pried it from Amanda’s grasp. It was the movie 10 Things I Hate About You.
“This-was-Shawn’s-and-my-favorite-movie.” The words barely escaped her mouth before she bolted from the store. I was left standing in the middle of the store feeling like a complete shmuck.