Chapter Seven #3
Napoleon and I strolled into our office just after one, only stopping short when I spotted LAPD detectives Cassidy Ryan and Mike Williams waiting for me.
I grinned at the pair. “Cassidy…what’s up?
” We shook hands but something in his serious expression made my smile falter.
“Somethin’ wrong?” I asked, pulling my hand out of his.
He let out a breath and exchanged a long look with his partner before turning back to me. His nod was answer enough. “I’m afraid so, Patsy. I know you just came back from a field op, but we need to talk to you for just a minute.”
I waved them into chairs. “Pull up a pew.” I didn’t wait to see them comply as Napoleon and I dragged our own chairs over to them. As soon as we were settled, I sat forward, puzzled at their appearance in the office. “What’s the story, Cassidy?”
He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He held it out to me and I opened it, feeling a moment of confusion as I looked down at a sketch of a man who closely resembled Weston. I stared at the picture dumbly for a few seconds before Napoleon took it out of my hands.
“That looks exactly like that homeless guy you were with last night, Patsy.”
I frowned over at Napoleon for a few seconds, hating his description of Wes before glancing back at Cassidy. “What is this?”
“It’s a police sketch of the man little Marigold Bishop saw.”
“Marigold Bishop?”
Cassidy and Mike wore similar frowns. “Don’t you remember the conversation we had with Father Gilmartin last night?”
“Of course, I do.” I tried to ignore the rush of blood to my head, making me feel dizzy as I tried to recall the exact conversation. Something in my expression must have made them doubt my recall, because Cassidy continued.
“Father Gilmartin told us that the men who accosted him wanted him to pass a message on to Marigold Bishop’s mother, Betty…something about them hurting Marigold if the little girl kept talking about what she’d seen.”
I took the paper out of Napoleon’s hand and shook it at Cassidy. “I remember that, but I don’t know what this could possibly have to do with Wes.”
“Cass and I found Betty Bishop and her daughter this morning, Patsy. They’d been sleeping in a shelter,” Mike said patiently.
“Okay, good. At least they weren’t out in the cold. ‘Twas chilly last night.”
“Not the point,” Mike said.
I frowned, trying not to sound impatient. “Then get to it, Michael.”
“Patsy—” I glanced at Napoleon, noting his own frown as Mike started talking again.
“We told Betty Bishop that Father Gilmartin was assaulted and that the men who did it said they wanted him to pass a message to her…the message that if Marigold didn’t keep her mouth shut about what she’d seen, they’d hurt her,” Cassidy said.
“Right. I was there,” I said.
“Okay, so when we talked to Marigold’s mother, we asked her if we could talk to the little girl to try to figure out what she might have seen that would make those men attack the priest,” Cassidy continued.
“What are ya on about?” I asked, growing frustrated. “So, did ya talk to the wee one?”
“We did. It took a bit of work, but as best we can make out—”
“From a four-year-old,” I interjected.
Cassidy blew out a long breath. “Yes, Patsy, from a four-year-old. Anyway, what she described was a homicide.”
“A homicide?” Napoleon asked before I could form the words.
Cassidy looked at him. “Marigold told us that a large man hurt a man very badly…her words not ours.”
“And how does Wes fit into this?” I asked, dreading the answer.
“She described the killer as a big man and when we asked her if she thought she could remember the face of the man who’d done it, she told us she’d try. She described the man as very big, looking nothing like the two men who assaulted the priest last night.”
“Okay,” I said, glancing down at the sketch of a face similar to Wes.” When I looked up at them, both detectives looked serious. “Yer sayin’ the girl described my friend, Wes? Ya think Wes is a murderer?” I felt my stomach fill with butterflies.
Cassidy nodded. “We’re not ready to say that yet, Patsy, but this is the police sketch of the man Marigold described. You must admit, the resemblance to your friend Wes, is too close to ignore.”
I stood and began pacing, crumpling the sketch in my hand as my mind raced.
I could feel my heart beating so hard I thought my chest was going to explode.
I forced myself to take a few breaths, blowing them out slowly as I heard Napoleon calling my name.
When I looked back at him, I realized I’d paced to the opposite side of the massive bullpen.
I walked back when he beckoned, finding my chair, and dropping into it on shaky legs.
“So, yer here to tell me ya think my friend is goin’ about killin’ people?
” The two men said nothing, but the stern look on both their faces said volumes.
“Bollocks! Yer both off yer rockers,” I shouted, feeling my face flush with anger.
The gentle giant of a man I knew would no more kill someone or associate himself with thugs who beat up a priest, than I would.
“Now, listen here,” Mike said icily. “We only came to you with this because he’s your friend and we thought you deserved to be put on notice that we’re bringing him in for questioning.”
I felt white hot rage as I sat forward. Before I could punch the older detective in the nose, Napoleon covered my forearm in a firm grip, making me think twice. I glared at him as I yanked my arm out of his tight grasp.
“Patsy, settle down,” Nash said.
My other teammate had gotten up from where he’d been sitting several feet away and walked over to join us. I glared up at him too. “Fuck off. What they’re sayin’ can’t possibly be true, Nash. Weston Chaudry is a nice, peaceful bloke. He’s not a killer! He wouldn’t do somethin’ like this.”
“Whether he is or isn’t, has yet to be determined, Patsy,” Cassidy said. “All we want to do is talk to him.”
I looked at him skeptically. “Just because he’s homeless, you’ll treat him like every other cop!”
“Just what’s that supposed to mean?” Cassidy thundered as he rose to his feet.
“Because I thought ya were mates. It’s why I called ya and not 911 last night.”
“We are friends, Patsy.” He didn’t wait for me to dispute that before turning to his partner who stood beside him. “We made a mistake coming here first, Mike.”
“What the hell is going on here?”
Napoleon and I got to our feet as Candy strode into the bullpen with a fierce expression on his face. “I can hear the shouting all the way back in my office.” He looked at the two detectives and acknowledged them with a nod. “Cassidy… Mike…it’s nice to see you. What’s happening?”
“We came here to ask Patsy if he knew where we could find Weston Chaudry,” Cassidy said, thrusting the paper in his direction and pointing down at it as Candy took it from his hands.
“That’s an artist’s rendering of a suspect who killed a man and then sent men to threaten a little girl and her mother by way of their priest. We only thought of Chaudry because we met him last night at Father Gilmartin’s residence after he was assaulted.
We wanted to know if Agent Good knows where we can find him since they’re acquainted. Like I said…it’s why we’re here.”
Candy stared at the two detectives for a second before looking back at me. “This does look like your friend, Wes.”
“I know it bloody does!” His frown deepened.
My hands clenched into fists as I tried to calm down.
“Sorry, boss,” I said quietly, doing my best not to go crazy.
I knew Wes had nothing to do with something as heinous as a murder.
He didn’t have it in him. He was a kind, gentle soul, but as I stared at the paper in Candy’s hand, I couldn’t help feeling like my world was suddenly fraying at the seams.
I took a deep breath. Though I didn’t know Cassidy Ryan and Mike Williams well, I trusted them.
I knew they were good at their jobs. They’d worked with Lincoln Snow’s team for years and they were considered friends with most of the people in the office.
I ran a hand through my hair as I tried to calm down.
“Look…I’m sorry I yelled…it’s just ridiculous to think that Wes could have anything to do with Father Gilmartin’s assault, much less a murder.” I turned to Cassidy. “Do ya even have a body?”
“She took us to an alley where she says the murder happened and as it turns out, a man was found dead there last week.”
I frowned. “This is an open homicide case?”
Cassidy and Mike both nodded. “Yes, but it’s not our case which is why it didn’t immediately ring a bell. Once we pieced two and two together to confirm a homicide had happened in that same alley, we contacted the detectives working the case.”
“And what did they say about it?” I asked.
“We haven’t heard back from them yet,” Cassidy said. “They work out of the Hollywood division.”
“So, if I understand, you two are workin’ a case that isn’t even yours.”
Cassidy exchanged a long look with his partner. “No, but upon deeper scrutiny, it turns out that the victim has ties to a case Mike and I are working.”
“Deeper scrutiny?” I asked.
“We ran the name of the victim and read the report of the body found in the alley, Patsy,” Mike said.
“You know that cases overlap sometimes. Criminals don’t pay attention to what division they commit crimes in.
” I hated the way he referred to Wes…suggesting—once again—that he was a criminal.
“Patsy, you must understand that we need to talk to Chaudry to find out what he knows about this.”
I blew out a slow breath, trying my best to keep my frayed nerves and my temper at bay.
“I know ya do and I can understand why you’d be suspicious about Wes, especially with this sketch.
” I looked down at the crumpled paper before shaking my head.
When I looked back up at them, I felt anger all over again.
“Listen, Cassidy, I can tell ya right now, he doesn’t have it in him to kill anyone or associate with people who’d beat up a priest. It’s just not within the man’s character.
The only reason he was with me at the church at all last night was so he could help feed the homeless and pass out donated clothing.
Does that sound like someone who’d kill someone or send thugs to beat up a priest? ”
“Patsy,” Candy said, sounding pained. “You hardly know the man yourself. How do you know what he’s capable of?”
“Because I just bloody well know. He’s not capable of killin’ a man and then sendin’ thugs to threaten a wee girl through her priest!
” I felt fury rush over my skin even as doubt began creeping in.
“Even though I don’t know him at all well, I know he’s a kind and decent man.
There’s some things ya just know.” When Candy opened his mouth to protest, I looked for support from my brothers who were all standing around.
“All of us have been trained to sense good and bad in people. None of ya can deny that.” Without hesitation, they all nodded.
“He’s right, Captain,” Nash said. “We’re the next best thing to bullshit detectors out there.”
Someone in the crowd chuckled but I ignored it, turning back to Cassidy who was watching me with interest. “Yer a Navy SEAL, Cassidy. Tell me I’m wrong.”
He frowned at me for several long seconds before finally shaking his head. “No, you’re not wrong, Patsy, and I’m very sorry if I came off sounding like I don’t trust you.” He put his hand on my shoulder, giving me the briefest squeeze. “But we still need to talk to Mr. Chaudry.”
I nodded. “Fine, but I want to be with ya when ya do.” Before he could say anything, I held up my hand. “I have to write an incident report about our latest Op which is why I’m here and then—” I looked at Candy. “Do I have to meet with the psychologist today?”
Candy eyeballed me thoughtfully. “No, but I can’t let you participate in any further operations until she clears you, Patsy.”
“That’s not a problem, boss.” I glanced at Cassidy. “Can ya wait until I finish my report? It’s goin’ to take at least an hour.”
Cassidy exchanged a glance with Mike, communicating silently with him. When he turned back to me, I was relieved at his expression.
“Sure, Patsy. Mike and I will grab some coffee.”
“I’m glad that’s settled. Get to writing your report, Good.”
I nodded sharply. “Yes, sir.”