Chapter Two
Wade Cooper
I’m just about to ask the captain if he’s interested in going out for lunch with me when a call comes in. There’s been a shooting, with at least one confirmed dead. So when he asks me to come along with him, I don’t hesitate. I don’t care much for homicide cases, but if he needs me to come with him on a ride out, I see no reason to decline. I set out with him, and together we headed toward the crime scene.
It wasn’t the first time I’d ridden with the captain, but there was something different about this one. For instance, there’s a somber feeling in the sedan as we drive. Apparently, there’s supposed to have been an event here, unfortunately stopped by the shooting. I wonder how that feels for the people who’d paid for a good show, only to have to be witness to something else. Something much uglier.
When we get there, the place is swarming with reporters all hanging around behind the yellow tape cordoning off a space in front of the building. We don’t take too much time cutting through the crowd and their cameras, and then we are inside the building .
The first thing I notice is how the main hall with the seats and mounted stage appears to be covered with people milling. Aghast, I turn to the captain to complain.
“Please, someone tell me this isn’t the crime scene. How are we going to get any uncontaminated evidence when there are so many people still loitering around here after someone was shot?”
“It’s not, sir?” A rookie cop answers helpfully, and I nod gratefully.
“Well, can you take us there?” I asked on behalf of the captain, knowing he would not want to speak too much.
Senior officers were peculiar. They like— no , they love—being anticipated. Not too much, or excessively to the point where it becomes suffocating, but the longer you spend on the force, or in any kind of military outfit, as in my case and experience, the more you realize that playing second fiddle is the way to go with a superior officer. Leave the big decisions to them, make sure that everyone else in the vicinity understands who the superior is, and you will continue to remain in their good books.
I served five years in the military before I was discharged, and then took several years off to build my private security firm. You learn over time that being proactive in a situation like this, taking the initiative, is more likely to pay off with you retaining a lot of your individuality and freedom, because you gradually cultivate a relationship with the commanding officer. At least, if they aren’t a colossal asshole.
I did have fun during my time in the Marines, and even more fun in my years undercover in France, but that isn’t a time I think about much these days. Nor did I really miss it. Running two billion-dollar organizations and still working a physical position and gigs when they came along took all my time and stopped me from going into a slump, which was why I did them, and so far, I was loving it. Hell, a courtesy visit to the captain has landed me a front row seat to a fresh investigation.
The rookie takes us down one of the aisles, toward a door at the far end of the room, which opens out into a long and narrow hallway. I assume we are being led backstage. We continue down the hall for more than 50 steps before he stops in front of a door, with a sign painted on it. Star Room
“This is where it happened, sir. Forensics were all over the place, and we restricted the number of people inside the room at any given time in order to free up this passage. There are three members of the forensics team still inside to answer your questions, so anytime you’re ready to have a look,” he says, nodding deferentially to the captain.
This cop has good eyes, and a good mind behind them. He will probably do really well on the force.
For the first time since we arrived, the captain speaks up. “All right, take us inside.”
The rookie opens the door for us to enter, and we step in. Inside, three men are in different corners of the large room. For a moment, I’m lost as to what I’m seeing, and then I realize that it is a drawing room. It doubles as a changing room, the kind you see on TV where the actor or singer stays to get prepped until it’s time for the show.
That means she’d been murdered while in here, and possibly alone.
Just to be sure, I turn to the cop who brought us in here to ask, “How many victims? ”
“Uh, just one. Sir,” he replies.
I nod, and then take a step back. The captain does not need to hear my observations now, and he will definitely ask me what I thought later. For now, I need to follow his lead.
“Tell me everything you know.” He says to the open room, and the forensics team look at each other before one of them steps forward.
“Good evening, Captain Tanner.”
“Evening. What happened here.”
“Single victim. She was shot in the chest six times. Name is Lynn Watt, and she was supposed to take the lead in today’s performance.”
The captain turns to me. “Crime of passion maybe? It happens with this sort.”
“Ah, we don’t think so sir.” The forensics expert chips in, looking a bit abashed to be doing so.
“Why?” I ask, curious. Something appears afoot.
He pauses, as if considering how best to proceed, though whether that was for dramatic effect or something else, I didn’t know. “The victim was shot six times, but no one heard a sound. And she was alone when it happened. They used a silenced handgun.”
“Do we know what kind of gun yet?” Tanner asks, raising a brow as he did whenever he found his interest being stoked .
“A Beretta 92, Sir. We recovered the gun, and had it sent to the lab for a more extensive print swab, though we believe it’s a dead end there, Sir.”
“Why, no prints while it was here?”
“None at all, sir. And it was neatly laid at the side of the door, just away from it, like a present. Complete with the silencer.”
Now it’s my turn to be interested. “What, he left it here, like that? That means this was premeditated.”
Tanner turns to me. “So, it’s not a crime of passion, like I thought?”
“No, this doesn’t rule that out sir. It just means, as you know already, that our perp is or was highly motivated to do this and had a vested interest. He also wants us to know that he’s thought of everything, and he won’t be getting caught.”
I see his face change, and right then, an ugly look of realization hits him. The police are being mocked.
“We don’t think he succeeded though, sir.”
“What do you mean, the victim is dead, isn’t she?” Tanner snaps, wheeling on the young lad.
I feel for him. This right here is one of the hazards of the profession. You had to be ready to take the flak while doing your job. It didn’t matter though. By your second year on the job, you already know that nothing is personal. Until it is, at least .
“Yes sir, she’s dead.” He says, handling the outburst pretty well. “However, we found just a few minutes ago that she wasn’t the lead performer on this show. She was a last-minute stand in. The original composer and performer came down with the flu last night and lost her voice.”
“You mean, you think that the murdered victim might have been in the wrong place at the right time?”
“Yes, sir.” He said. “The only thing we haven’t figured out is if the killer knew about the last-minute change. If he didn’t know about it, then that could be a working theory. The two women have to have similar features for it to work, as most understudies do.”
I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. It’s the same for me. It opens new possibilities.
“That means our perp knows her, but not enough to tell the difference in a rush and under dim lighting.” I say, looking at the captain.
“But that doesn’t give us any suspects.” Tanner says, pointing out the most important fact we have.
“We’ll have to talk to the lead,” I suggest. “The one that’s still alive. And probably place her into protective custody until we can rule out a motive.”
“Indeed.” He says. “Let’s go. Someone get me an address and an extra patrol car with some officers in it.”
* * * *
The ride there takes us a few more minutes, and by the time we are in front of the house, the captain is in full gear. As soon as the car stops, he’s out the door and waiting for the other car to pull up. He spends the time retucking his shirt in his pants, and I have to suppress a laugh.
It’s fun to watch though, if we don’t consider the fact that we are about to break it to a woman that she might have been the target of a murder, and her illness was what saved her. Either way, I really don’t feel good about this. But then again, I understand if it’s just a way to reassure himself ahead of the task. It’s never an easy task to break bad news to someone.
I fall in behind him as he moves toward the house. Once on the porch, we find the ringer and use it, then we wait.
It doesn't take long for someone to come to the door, but when they come, I’m a little bit shocked. It’s a man, tall and Hispanic. He appears to be recovering from a breakdown, because I can see him sniffling, his eyes red. Apparently, he must have heard the news already.
“Captain Tanner, LAPD.” The captain then motions at me, “This is Mr Wade Cooper. We're here to see Miss Ava Anderson?”
“She's inside. But she's very sick. Down with the flu. Have you guys had shots?”
“Yes, we have. And you haven't told us who you are,” I chip in.
“Oh, I'm so sorry.” He breaks into nervous laughter, which coupled with the red eyes, is a bit comical but understandable. “I'm Juan Dayton. Her manager. B-both of their managers, really. I managed the entire show. ”
“Ah, they said you'd left after being questioned,” I wonder why.
“Yes. I was worried about Ava. She's really ill, and I also had to pick DJ up from preschool.”
“DJ?” The captain is curious.
“Yeah, that's Ava’s son. He's in preschool.”
Tanner nods. “Yeah, you mentioned that. May we come in?”
“Sure, if you want to risk it.”
I follow Tanner inside, and for the first time in years, feel my flight or fight instincts kick in.
There she is! It’s definitely her!
“Miss Anderson?” I heard Tanner start, “A pleasure to meet you. I’m Captain Tanner, and this here with me is…”
It takes a minute for me to understand that he is talking to me, and in that split second, I can see that she’s recognized me too. Shock is etched on her face, and if Tanner and the other men in the room hadn’t been looking at me, they would have seen the shock in her eyes.
Luckily, I am quick to recover. A soldier’s composure is a thing, and after a while you learned to translate it into almost anything.
“Hi, I’m Wade Cooper.”
* * * *
Three months ago, during a relentless thunderstorm. Where I first met her.
That night at the bar, I’d just gotten a new job with the force as a consultant, helping out with cases and sometimes the occasional bodyguard work. That was the description. Just good old work to keep me busy, and there’s nothing else that truly makes me happy. I’d achieved all I wanted to with my security firm. With functional provision of services round the clock to nearly 30 countries, all high-profile principals who want the best of the best protection. Training men is another of the things we do. I remember the ecstatic triumph of accomplishment, at having built it all. Sure, I’d had help from a few friends who served with me but were not willing to live on the pay from the government. Real hard work, and it took us three years to build, but we had finally secured our place as one of the go-to firms for security. Most of it was luck, but blood, sweat and tears did go into it.
A few drinks out alone were what I needed. So, I decided to go ahead to make sure I do just that. That’s where I met her.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr Cooper, and Captain Tanner,” she says, and I’m struck dumb at the sound of her voice again.
It’s exactly as I’ve remembered it for the last three months. Melodic, with an ethereal quality to it. I should have known she did something with her voice. So it was an opera.
“Miss Anderson, I’m sure Mr Dayton here has told you that Miss Lynn, your understudy, was killed today. ”
“Y-yes.” She finally snaps out of the funk that my presence must have brought, and I know we are out of the woods for now.
Christ! I can’t believe this.
“I don’t know why anyone would want to hurt Lynn. She was the sweetest soul I ever knew.” She continues, and then she breaks off again.
“Well, that’s partly why we’re here.” Tanner says, looking at me with some worry in his face. I’m right. He’s been preparing to break the news.
“What is it?” she asks, and my heart breaks at the worry on her face.
“We are worried that because you two look alike, and because of the nature of your absence from the show and how you were replaced by Lynn at the last minute, that the attacker may have been looking for you instead.”
When he sees the look of shock on their faces, he rushes to raise his hands. “Wait, it’s not confirmed, just that we want to take precautionary measures.
“The truth is, the attacker was very efficient, and there’s no way for us to know for certain, but it’s a possibility, which is why we’ll be assigning a protection detail to you. I think Mr Wade here will be perfect for the next few months. After all, there’s a chance that this is still a crime of passion, or the attacker got their target. This is just to keep you safe.”
“W-what? S-sir?” I can’t believe my ears. At all. “You want me to be her security detail? ”
“Yes, it’s your job, isn’t it?” he says, looking at me askance. “This is what you do best, and I would not be at ease if I had anyone but you with her.”
I just nod. Now is not the time. If I protested too much, I would clue him in onto the fact that something is wrong. But how am I going to explain that this is the same woman I had a one-night stand with?!
Since there’s nothing to say, I hold my peace, and make sure that he doesn’t have a reason to look at me again through the course of the visit.
“You’ll stay behind, I take it?” Tanner says to me as we walk to the door, and I realize that he’s serious about it. My staying behind, that is.
I shake my head, but now is not the time to complain. “Let’s leave one of the officers behind for now. That way, I can go get my stuff. I need clothes, my firearms, and some other gear. I’ll also need to set up cameras around the house and vicinity, just to be sure.”
The man doesn’t have anything to say to that, and I suppose that I can’t talk to him about it. Perhaps I could take it up with command higher up.
I would gladly have two of my men to guard her, rather than remain here in the house with her, and then have to talk about that night. That’s definitely the first thing I’ll do as soon as I get home. I’m going to make sure of that.
“Oh, and I know you have an issue with this job, Cooper,” he says to me, just as we are about to enter the sedan. “I don’t know much about what you did, and why I was told this, but the guys you worked with before, they said that if you ever refused a job, to inform you that you owe them a favor because of your last job. And that you’d understand. Get in the car.”