Chapter 8
8
“ W hat am I looking at?” Hawke took the folder that Arthur handed him but didn’t open it. He leaned against the railing across from where Arthur stood. The hot Florida sun beat down on his back, which itched from the new words added to his tattoo.
But his family truly had control of his heart.
Arthur had a somber look etched on his face. His jaw was relaxed, but his lips were pulled tight, and a crinkle wiggled across his forehead, showing off his age. “An official complaint about you.”
“Me? What the hell did I do? And to whom did I do it?” A few years back, Hawke got into it with a fellow firefighter who was an asshole. One night, after a few drinks, Hawke had enough of Jonathon’s chauvinist ways, and Hawke punched him, more than once.
The next morning, Jonathon filed a formal complaint, and Hawke ended up suspended for a week, and the altercation would forever be in his record, especially since Hawke had done some real damage to Jonathon’s face.
However, he’d kept his nose clean since then.
“Wendel Lawrence. He said that you assaulted him at his son’s school,” Arthur said.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Hawke flipped open the file and scanned the report.
“He’s got a witness.”
“I see that.” Hawke flipped the page. He rolled the name Riley Simpson around in his brain, but nothing came up. “I punched the man once, that’s it. I wouldn’t call it assault. And the asshole just laughed anyway. Duncan was there. He’ll file a statement on my behalf.”
“I already had him file one this morning, but it doesn’t matter. You hit him.”
“Who is this Riley Simpson person?” Hawke asked.
“She’s a single mother. A widow, from what I’ve learned, has her sights set on Wendel as her next husband. They have been out a few times, but Wendel goes out with many women.”
“Why would anyone want to be with that asshole?”
“I haven’t a single clue.” Arthur rested his hand on Hawke’s shoulder like an older brother giving advice would. “Kaelie’s closing in on him, but he’s filed a formal complaint against her too.”
“She did get in his face a couple of months ago.”
“And last night,” Arthur said.
“What the hell did she do now?”
Normally, Kaelie never lost her cool, and she had the best resting bitch face known to man. But she was a shark, and he’d hate to be on the wrong side of her questions during an interrogation.
“She ran into him while he was out on a date with Riley.”
“Ran into? Or planned? Because she didn’t leave here until nearly eight last night.”
Arthur arched his brow. “Let’s go with ran into. Anyway, she went up to them and said hello. Then she leaned in and whispered in his ear that she was days from arresting him. According to the waitress, Kaelie accidentally spilled wine all over his lap.”
“Nothing Kaelie does is an accident,” Hawke said.
“It gets better.”
Hawke could only imagine.
“While she frantically tried to clean up the mess, a file dropped from her purse right in Riley’s lap. Inside was a picture of the last victim wearing a necklace that is found on every victim, a little-known fact that hasn’t been released to the public.”
“She’s taunting him,” Hawke said.
“She wants to catch him before someone else dies, so she’s trying to make him squirm.”
“I’d say she’s doing a damn good job.” Hawke knew very little about how investigations were handled. Other than being friends with Kaelie and her husband, Hawke’s role as a paramedic and firefighter didn’t require that skill set.
Nor did he want the responsibility.
But now that his family was involved, even peripherally, he wanted every detail and to be immersed in the case.
“Kaelie is good at her job, but she’s letting this one get to her. Hits too close to home with her sister’s murder,” Arthur said.
“Every murder she hears about hits her that way, but this one is worse because she’s investigating a fire where evidence was found, making her part of the equation.” It was something he could understand since every death by suicide or attempted suicide brought him right back to the day they found Courtney’s body and the letter she left behind. “Did Wendel file complaints about anyone else?”
Arthur laughed. “Me and Rex over how we handled the investigation of the fire at his house, but since its ongoing, nothing will happen with it other than a little pressure from the chief to wrap it up. And yours, all that will happen at this point is you’ll need to sit with a case worker and explain your side, but?—”
“He’s got his cop buddies listening to his side, and he wants assault charges. He doesn’t want this to be an internal department thing.” Hawke didn’t need to be an investigator to figure that out.
“Flip to the last page of that report.” Arthur folded his arms across his chest.
There, in the back of the file, was a picture of Wendel with a black eye, a bruised cheek, and a cut lip. “I didn’t do that,” Hawke said. “I hit him in the belly, and not even full force.”
“He’s got a witness that says otherwise, and he looked like that when Kaelie saw him, so don’t be surprised if the local police come knocking at your door.”
“Why would they waste their time on a case like this? It’s just two blokes exchanging a few fists. Who the fuck cares?”
“It happened on school property for one and two”—Arthur took the folder, fingered through the pages until he pulled one out, and held it up—“he has this threatening email from you.”
“What? He’s the one who sent me a hostile note.” Hawke took the paper between his fingers and read the report.
“Watch your back, buddy. If you think what happened today was bad, you wait. It’s all being set up. You will rot in prison. You know what they do to men who rape women, right? It’s just a matter of time. I’ve got it all worked out.”
“That’s my email address, in response to his email, which has been altered, but I didn’t send that.” Hawke scrunched the paper in his fist. “He’s seriously trying to make it look like I’m setting him up?”
“You’re missing the bigger picture. He’s setting you up as the rapist and murderer.”
Hawke opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
“That’s fucking crazy, and he won’t be able to do it.”
“Kaelie wants you to give her and Rusty full access to your email voluntarily so they can disprove this immediately.”
“Done.” Hawke’s phone vibrated in his back pocket. He took a moment to clear his throat and pulled out his cell.
Hawke glanced at the screen. “It’s my landlord.” He tapped the green answer button and set it on speaker. “Hello?”
“Sorry to bother you, but I was just handed a search warrant for your house.” His heart raced as all the blood in his body boiled. “I’ll be right there.” He stared at Arthur who pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You didn’t go home last night,” Arthur said as a statement. “Rusty had someone drive by here last night and my place a few times, but not yours.”
“Is anyone following Wendel? It should be easy to dispute all of this.”
“Rusty’s really struggling with this. Wendel has friends. And no one likes it when one of their own is accused. Rusty has a handful of men and women he can trust. So, no cops have been following Wendel. I called Timothy, and we’ve got eyes on him through the Aegis Network, but there are gaps.”
“Shit,” Hawke mumbled. “I’ve got to get to my place.”
“I’ll drive, and on the way, I’ll make sure Rusty, Kaelie, and Timothy all know what’s going on.”
“Give me a minute.” Hawke made his way to the kitchen, contemplating what he would say. He’d been looking forward to spending as much time with Calista and David as possible, even if that meant spending it with most of his entire team. He wanted Calista to see he had a good life here and that it would be worth giving it a go.
God, he hoped she wanted to spend the rest of their lives making up for his stupid mistake.
But he’d have to win her over, and running out on her and David wasn’t the way to do that.
“What’s wrong?” Calista asked.
“Yeah. You look like you saw a ghost or something,” David said.
As perceptive as his mother. “My landlord called. Something happened at my place. I’ve got to head over there.” He found a piece of paper and a pen. “Here’s the address of my buddy Rex’s house and yacht. His wife’s name is Tilly. She’s a real gem, and you’ll love her.”
Calista nodded.
He set his keys on the counter. “You can take my pickup if you want.”
“You’re leaving it here?” Calista asked.
“If you don’t mind. Arthur and I are going to my house together.”
“Sure thing,” she said. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. It’s nothing. Just a leaky pipe.”
Calista cocked her head back.
He might be able to tell her the truth, but he didn’t want to worry David.
“Trust me,” he whispered, pulling Calista in for a quick kiss, and then he hugged his son. He held him for a long moment, closing his eyes and resting his nose against the top of his head. He smelled like innocence on top of a decadent chocolate cake.
No way would he let anyone destroy what he’d just found. “You take good care of your mom, you hear?”
“Yes, sir,” David said, glancing up with a big smile. “Thanks for finding us.”
“Thank you for forgiving me for not being around. I can’t really make up for all the lost time, but I’m going to do my best.”
“I love you, Dad.”
Salty tears stung the corners of his eyes. Never in a million years did he think he’d hear those words.
Nor did he believe he could ever love someone as much as he loved this boy. “I love you right back.” In a matter of a day, David had become Hawke’s world.
“Do you know what they are looking for?” Hawke asked Rusty as he stood in his front yard, not caring that half the neighborhood had come out and were all conversing on the street, pointing and staring.
“The warrant isn’t specific other than we have the right to seize anything they deem pertinent to the case,” Rusty said as he snapped on a pair of latex gloves.
“How does me hitting Wendel once constitute a case and a search warrant?”
“It doesn’t,” Rusty said. “Do you know a woman by the name Denise Cannon?”
Hawke nodded. “I took her out a few times a couple of months ago.”
“She was raped last night.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach, stirring up acid and sending it to the back of his throat. He gagged. “Was she murdered?”
“She’s in the hospital. Her neighbor had stopped by and saw her on the floor with a plastic bag over her head.”
“Is that how the victims were killed?” Hawke rubbed the back of his neck as he watched a local detective carry out his laptop, followed by a uniformed officer carrying a box.
Rusty nodded. “What sucks for you is that we never released how the bodies were found, so no one knows about the plastic bag but those I told, first responders, and the killer.”
“Was her attacker still in the house?”
“He ran out the back door. We’ve got a print of his shoes in the mud, and he also left behind some duct tape,” Rusty said. “What shoe size are you?”
“Are you seriously going to ask me that?” His heart pounded so fast he couldn’t tell when one heartbeat ended and another one started.
Rusty cocked his head.
“Thirteen,” he said under his breath.
“Well, that’s good because the print we have is a size eleven, but the bad news is that the neighbor, when asked for a description, said it was closer to you than to Wendel.”
“Does the neighbor know Wendel?” Hawke’s mind raced with a million questions. He tried to sort through all of them, prioritizing them, but they spun around like alphabet soup in a blender. “Who is the neighbor?” Hawke remembered when he’d dropped Denise off after a disastrous date, but only because he realized she wanted a husband and not a fling, a woman had been walking her dog and stopped to talk to Denise and him, but he couldn’t remember her name.
“Riley Simpson,” Rusty said with a smirk.
“The eyewitness who says I beat the crap out of Wendel? The same one who was on a date with him last night?”
“Wendel is getting desperate, and he’s making mistakes,” Rusty said. “I’m sorry about Denise, but we’re confident she’ll pull through.”
“She’s a nice girl and doesn’t deserve this.”
“No one does.”
“What if they find something Wendel might have planted in my house?” Hawke pointed to the detective and officer standing in his driveway, glaring over their shoulders.
“I think they already have,” Rusty said. “There’s a little misplaced loyalty when it comes to one or two of these officers here. Deep down, they are good cops and I know they have their doubts about what kind of police officer Wendel is. They’ve seen him in action and know he’s dangerous. But no one likes to admit one of their own is actually one of those really bad people you want behind bars. Even I don’t like that.”
“That’s not making me feel any better.”
“In about five minutes, they will get a phone call telling them to turn everything over to me. That I am now the lead detective on these cases.”
“How did you manage that? I thought you were just sticking your nose in where it didn’t belong.”
“Detective Brown asked for my help months ago, so I’ve always been on the case. But Wendel has been pushing Brown’s buttons, and recently, he went to our captain over something stupid. Brown had enough and told the cap that he thought I was better equipped and had been working on the case all along. Pissed Wendel right the fuck off because he knows he can’t control me.”
“He tried to manipulate Brown?”
“That’s what Brown said.” Rusty nodded. “But Brown’s still working on everything. I need him. He’s been dealing with this from day one. But he’ll be in the background.”
Hawke shoved his hands deep in his pockets, swallowing the vile taste this entire thing has left in his mouth. “Here they come.”
“This is going to get weird, real fast,” Rusty said, waving to Arthur.
Arthur nodded and jogged in their direction.
“Answer their questions. Don’t lie about anything,” Rusty said. “Don’t be a hothead.”
“Are you Hawke Wilson?” the police officer asked.
“I am.” He held out his hand and gave the man a firm handshake. He puffed out his chest. Not so much as a form of a pissing contest, but mostly to keep himself tall and proud. It also helped that Arthur stood at his side.
“And you live here?”
“I do.”
“Do you know why we’re here?” the police officer asked.
“You seem to think I might have something to do with the rape of an old girlfriend of mine.” It was a stretch to call her that, but they had dated for a month, and he had slept with her a few times, so it seemed to be fitting.
“That and the assault on Wendel Lawrence,” the police officer said.
“That’s not why we’re here,” Rusty said. “Officer Hardy, you’re going to null and void this search if you bring in the accusations of the assault to Wendel. It’s not part of our warrant, and the two cases are unrelated. Since we’re standing here chatting, I need a log of what was taken from Hawke’s home.”
Hawke had to admit, it was kind of fun to watch Rusty in action, though he would prefer it not be about him.
“If you’d like to come over and check out the evidence, feel free, but…” Hardy pulled out his cell and frowned. “Will you excuse me a minute?”
“Sure thing,” Rusty said. “I wish I didn’t take any pleasure in this. I remember being a cop and enjoying playing detective before I became one. They have no idea why Brown isn’t here and I am. They won’t like this.”
“I seriously don’t understand the politics of this,” Hawke said.
“It’s simple. A few months back, Wendel did something in the line of duty that nearly got me killed. I’m vocal about how I feel about that man being a cop. Me taking on the rape cases will cause waves. But the captain’s seen Kaelie’s report. The evidence is compelling. He wants someone who will be willing to cuff one of their own or walk away if it’s not him. That man is me.”
“This is a fucking nightmare.” Hawke ran his fingers through his hair.
“This is all going to blow over,” Arthur said, slapping him on the back. “Besides, this isn’t the right neighborhood to raise a young man in. I think you’d do best to move into Calista’s place.”
“You’ve got me married already?” The word married rolled off his tongue a little too easily. He swallowed.
He actually liked the idea.
It warmed his heart.
For the first time in ten years, he felt alive.
And terrified at the same time.
Hardy shook his head. “How did you manage to take this case from Brown?”
“I didn’t take anything. It was assigned. Now, instead of standing here pounding our chests, let’s get to work.”
“That’s what I’ve been doing. Everything we collected is in the back of the van. Benny’s got the log.” Hardy relaxed his stance. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.” Rusty nodded.
“I need to know if Brown walked off this case or if something happened.”
Rusty cocked his head.
Hardy let out a long breath. “Look, man. We’ve got a rapist and murderer on our hands and one of our own has been suspended. I know what it’s looked like here all morning. Trust me, I don’t like searching a first responder’s home any more than I like wondering if a man that wears the same badge as I do is a criminal.”
Hawke glanced toward Arthur.
“No offense, Hardy. But you don’t act like you wonder any such thing,” Rusty said.
“I’m a beat cop. I do what I’m told. But I went to the captain a couple of months ago about a concern I had over Wendel. He’s a fucking loose cannon. I keep my distance from him, and if you thought my attitude here was about that, you’re dead wrong. I was just doing my job. Collecting evidence, whether it makes sense or not. But Brown is a good detective and Wendel tried to get to him.”
Rusty let out a slow breath. “How do I know you’re not full of shit?”
“My kid goes to school with Wendel’s kid.”
“Then mine as well,” Hawke said.
Hardy nodded. “The only reason I brought up the assault charges was because I was there that day and know it’s bogus.”
“Why didn’t you say that sooner?” Rusty planted his hands on his hips. “That’s the whole reason I don’t trust you right now.”
“You didn’t give me a chance,” Hardy said. “I don’t trust Wendel and I sure as shit don’t think he’s a good guy. So, do you want to go over what we pulled from Hawke’s house?”
“I do.” Rusty nodded.
“Because of an email we found at the victim’s home from Hawke?—”
“I haven’t sent an email to Denise in months. Hell, I haven’t seen her in months,” Hawke said, interrupting Hardy.
“Let him finish,” Rusty demanded in an authoritative tone.
“Because of that, we had an order to seize his computer or any other tablet we could find. We also found the same type of plastic bags that were used to cover Denise’s face along with the same brand of tape that was used to bound her wrists and ankles.”
“Tape? What tape?” Hawke asked. “Because yesterday I went to get some duct tape, and I’m all out.”
“There was a half-used roll on your kitchen countertop,” Hardy said. “It matches what we found at the scene.”
Hawke’s heart dropped to his stomach. “The only thing I left there was a bunch of letters and pictures of my son.”
Hardy shook his head. “There were no letters or images in the kitchen. Are you sure?”
“It’s a long story, but yesterday morning, after I opened the letters, I left them to talk to my son and his mother. I didn’t know they were in town. Hell, I didn’t know I had a kid until yesterday, and I left all the pictures Calista sent me on the counter. I haven’t been home since.”
Out of the corner of Hawke’s eye, he saw Zach and Noah race from their backyard.
Hawke knew he could use all the support he could get.
“If that asshole stole the pictures of my son or my letters, I’m going to fucking?—”
Arthur held up his hand. “I would stop that sentence now, if you know what is good for you.”
“Was there any sign of forced entry anywhere?” Hawke asked, knowing damn well he locked the door. Zach always harassed him about being anal-retentive about locked doors.
Zach had a point, but it had been a habit Hawke’s father had ingrained into his head since he was a small child and their house had been burglarized.
“None that we could find,” the detective said. “But one of my officers said the back door was unlocked.”
Hawke forced his mind to go back to two days ago. He recounted the steps of the hour before he left for his twenty-four-hour shift. He was a creature of habit and liked his routines. That morning, he’d gotten up, made himself some coffee, and sat on the back patio and read the news before going back inside and locking the door.
He remembered that detail specifically and when he’d returned home yesterday morning, he hadn’t even gone out the back door.
The only people who had a key to his place were Noah and Zach.
“Hey, Zach,” Hawke called, waving him over. “Bring Noah too.”
“What’s going on?” Rusty asked.
“I’m positive I locked that door, but they have a key, not that they would go in my house without asking, but I gave them one for emergencies. They also can see my house from their backyard, especially when the landlord trims back the bushes, which he did a few weeks ago.” Hawke turned his attention to Zach and Noah. “Did either of you go into my house or see anyone?”
“We left yesterday afternoon to go fishing and slept on the boat. Just got home about a half hour ago,” Zach said.
“One of the neighbors said they saw the cable company parked in your driveway yesterday around three,” Detective Hardy said.
“At three I was at my girlfriend’s house with our son. We had just picked up David after he had an altercation with Wendel’s son.” Hawke felt sorry for that poor, misguided boy, and he worried about what might happen to him when his father was busted for rape and murder.
That would a horrible legacy to deal with, and in that moment, Hawke decided that when this was over, he was going to do his best to make sure that kid understood no one blamed him for his father’s actions.
He could only hope that Calista and David would be on board after everything that had happened.
“I can account for my every move in the last twenty-four hours. I’ve either been with my buddy Duncan or my girlfriend and son,” Hawke said. “And I didn’t call the cable company, so why were they parked in my driveway?”
“We’ve got a call in to them to find out,” Hardy said. “Shall I forward that call to you, Rusty?”
“Just give me the report,” he said, holding up a piece of paper. “This warrant is only for Hawke’s computer. You had no right to go looking anywhere else for evidence.”
“The tape was on the counter, and I had probable cause, and you know it,” Hardy said. “What are the chances Hawke’s prints are on them?”
“Slim to none,” Hawke said with an exasperated sigh. “While you’re at it, dust for prints on my back door.”
“We’ll be sure to do that,” Rusty said in a reassuring tone.
“For the record, this smells like a bad setup,” Hardy said. “Timelines don’t add up. I’ve been doing this a long time; this is too easy. Too many tiny details that usually take time to uncover were laid out for us, right down to a scratch on your truck.”
“That’s a specific detail, but I fixed that the other day.”
“I’ve got it,” Rusty said, holding up his cell.
“Got what?” Hawke asked.
“We’ve got a DNA match linking Wendel to two of the victims.”
“That’s great. That means all of this means absolutely nothing,” Hawke said, letting out a sigh of relief.
“I wish. We still have to work through this investigation because it’s not necessarily related right now,” Rusty said. “Let’s walk through your house.”
“Rusty, put us to work.” Zach slapped Hawke on the back. “Because we take care of our own.”