CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Steve chose to exercise his right to remain silent at the scene, replying to the paramedics in monosyllabic grunts that reminded Faith not-so-amusingly of Jessica’s quip about men when they were talking about David earlier.
Faith checked Turk for injuries and found her dog unharmed save for a few minor bruises.
As for herself, her jaw was sore and swelling up enough that she would be hard-pressed to win any beauty contests for a few days, but she would live.
Jessica was in Steve’s apartment, which was now surrounded by and filled with a large number of Arlington Police officers.
They were looking for any evidence that could connect Steve to the murders.
With an equal number of Arlington Police assisting Meyers and the paramedics, Faith left the group and took Turk back to the unit to look for clues.
The scene she walked into wasn’t encouraging.
The apartment was sparsely appointed. A small television sat on the floor in front of a couch that looked like it had been ravaged by a gang of hyenas before being installed in Steve’s living room.
The kitchen had an ancient Frigidaire cooler that rattled and squeaked noisily and a kitchen table and chairs that seemed to be made more of duct tape than anything else.
It was no wonder that Steve was robbing people.
But Jessica was pensive and nervous when Faith entered the apartment, and Faith knew before she even asked that the news wasn’t good.
“No gun,” Jessica said. “We found a box that once contained ammunition for a .45, but it was empty, and the gun is nowhere to be seen. No ceramic bullets and no .22 or small-caliber gun of any kind.”
Faith sighed. “What about other evidence? Anything that could connect him to the killing in any way?”
Jessica glanced at a pair of size thirteen work boots next to the door.
They were caked with dried mud, some of it not-so-dry, likely from Steve’s escapade earlier in the day.
“We’ll take those and see if we can get a match to the prints we lifted from Iris Caldwell’s scene.
Well, that Quantico PD lifted. Same thing.
” She sighed and shook her head. “Damn it. I really wanted him to be the guy.”
“Let’s not give up yet,” Faith said. “Meyers doesn’t think he’d ditch the weapon, but I think he would. And just because he was careful with the murders doesn’t mean he doesn’t get desperate with the robberies. We’ll talk to him and see if he lets something slip during interrogation.”
“Do you think he will?” Jessica asked.
“I think he’ll tell us the truth,” Faith replied. I just don’t know if we’ll like what we hear.
Turk sniffed through the apartment but found nothing interesting aside from the boots. Faith borrowed a large plastic bag from one of the Arlington PD officers, bagged the boots, and headed downstairs, her K9 and partner following.
Meyers met them at the scene across the street. “He’s in the car,” he informed them. “He tried to act like he was in severe pain from getting hit by the car, but paramedics didn’t buy it. They wrapped his arm up and gave him ibuprofen for the bruising, but they said we’re good to take him.”
“So, we’re taking him back to Quantico?” Faith asked.
Meyers nodded. “Unless you guys have a better idea.”
“Are we all going to fit in the cruiser?” Jessica asked.
“Turk will have to ride in the baggage compartment,” Meyers replied, “but we’ll fit.”
“Then let’s get this done,” Faith said. She looked up at the darkening sky.
“Fine by me.”
As soon as they entered the cruiser, Steve said, “I’m not talking to any of you unless I have a lawyer present.”
None of them replied. If Steve wanted to talk, it meant he was nervous, and if he was nervous, then Faith was pretty confident he would quickly surrender his right to remain silent. Lots of suspects cried lawyer. Very few followed through.
Steve swallowed nervously. “I’m serious. You guys fucked up. You have nothing on me.”
Faith shifted in the front seat and placed the bagged boots on her lap where Steve could see them. “Aw, shit,” Steve muttered.
Faith smiled coldly, turning so Steve couldn’t see her. Her confidence was starting to return. Let’s see how quickly you crack, Mr. Kent.
***
“I mean it. I’m not talking to you without a lawyer.”
Faith and Jessica shared a frown. Turk growled irritably at Steve, who flinched away and added in a tremulous voice. “If he attacks me again, I’m gonna sue the shit out of you.”
“He’ll behave if you behave,” Faith replied. “As for your lawyer, we can get you a public defender. Unless you have a lawyer on retainer?”
“Screw you. Do I look like I’m made out of money?”
“Well, you tried to rob a woman at Creekside Park in Stafford, so I’m going to guess that you aren’t.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Lawyer.”
Faith sighed. She couldn’t put this off any longer. “Jessica, tell Meyers to get a public defender as soon as he can.”
Jessica got reluctantly to her feet, glaring at Meyers as she left the room.
Meyers was behind the two-way mirror and heard every part of this conversation, but they still needed to put on a show, so Steve didn’t know that he was being watched.
Actually, he probably already knew, so this was probably just another pointless ritual they were going through.
“Look, Steve,” Faith said, leaning forward and folding her hands on the desk. “We’ve got you pretty dead to rights at Creekside. We have your description from your intended victim and from the man who chased you off like a scared little rabbit.”
Steve chuckled bitterly. “Ooh. That hurts. Good one, agent.”
Faith shrugged. “Hey, I get it, man. I saw your place. Hard to find a job when you’ve got a rap sheet longer than the Beltway.”
Steve scoffed. “It was hard to find a job before I got the rap sheet. My mom was a crack whore, and my old man was a pimp. I dropped out of middle school. People take one look at that and assume that you’re a piece of crap.
So, you’re left with no choice but to become a piece of crap. Fucking ironic, right?”
“Like I said, I get it,” Faith said. “The thing is, that doesn’t give you a right to rob people, and it definitely doesn’t give you a right to kill people.”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Steve insisted.
“Where’s the gun, Steve?” Faith asked, using a conversational tone.
Steve’s eyes narrowed again. He clammed up, and when Turk growled again, he ignored him.
The door opened, and Jessica said, “The lawyer’s on the way. Fifteen minutes.”
Damn it. “Hear that, Steve? You’ve got a representative on the way. We can’t do anything to make you incriminate yourself. But if you aren’t our killer, then it would be really nice if you could help us clear you. Then we could move on and find the actual killer.
“Look.” Faith leaned over the table again.
“I’m not gonna throw the book at you over a botched robbery.
Don’t get me wrong, strangling that girl was a big no-no, but considering that she suffered no permanent injuries, and I got a guy out there causing some very permanent injuries, I’m fine with making a deal with you to make the aggravated assault and assault with a deadly weapon charges go away.
That takes your triple enhanced felony down to a simple felony of attempted robbery. That can be argued down to probation.”
Steve’s eyes flicked right and left as he considered this.
He drummed his fingers on the table and said, “Okay. I robbed her. Tried to, anyway. She had a boyfriend or something, real musclebound guy. He came up on me, and since I didn’t actually have a gun, I figured it wasn’t worth getting my ass kicked. ”
Faith frowned. “So you didn’t have a weapon?”
Steve shook his head. “No I didn’t actually want to hurt her. I just wanted her freaking money.”
“You didn’t want to hurt her, so you wrapped a purse strap around her neck and tried to choke her out?” Jessica asked.
Steve flinched and lifted the hand not shackled to the chair to his forehead. It looked legitimately like a trauma response, and Faith’s confidence ebbed.
“I thought she’d just pass out,” he whispered. “But she started convulsing, and I freaked out. She’s not hurt, you said, right? Not seriously?”
And that looked like legitimate concern. God damn it. “No, she’ll be okay.”
Steve sighed. “Okay. I just wanted money, man. I’m hungry.
Like, really.” He chuckled. “I haven’t had a good meal in a few days.
That’s another reason I didn’t stick around to mess with muscle dude.
” He laughed. “I mean, it’s kind of funny that you guys think I’m a killer.
I’m pretty sure even that old woman could have kicked my ass. ”
“You put up a pretty good fight against me.”
Steve tapped his finger on the table. “Yeah, I mean… I really don’t want to go to prison.”
Faith looked at Jessica, then back to their suspect. “Do you have an alibi for the times of the murders?”
“What times are those?”
“Yesterday afternoon, and the prior two mornings.”
Steve laughed. “Well, the mornings I was on the corner of Westchester and Garfield. Three days ago, I was buying crack. Two days ago, I was buying a different kind of crack, if you know what I mean.”
Faith grimaced, then looked at Jessica.
“We found paraphernalia in his apartment,” Jessica confirmed. “It appeared to have been used recently. No way to tell exactly when, of course.”
“I’m pretty sure my dealer won’t vouch for me, but if you find a pretty redhead that goes by the name of Shondra, she might be willing to tell the truth in exchange for a hot meal and a roof over her head for the night.”
Faith sighed. It probably wasn’t worth talking to Arlington PD about an alleged streetwalker, but they were thin on leads right now, and it was still possible that Steve was playing them and was, in fact, their killer.
She doubted it, though.
The door burst open, and an apoplectic man of around fifty with a walrus mustache and not a trace of hair anywhere else on his head jabbed a fat finger at Faith and Jessica.
“Uncuff him. Now. This arrest is a travesty, and we will be pursuing charges against the Quantico Police Department and the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”
Jessica reddened, but Faith patted her shoulder and shook her head.
They had the confession for the robbery, so they had justification for his arrest, and they’d made sure he was medically cleared before they brought him here.
The bluster was just the lawyer doing his job, but they had nothing to worry about.
“I really didn’t kill them,” Steve said. “That wasn’t me.”
“Shut up,” the lawyer snapped at him. He glared at Faith. “Anything my client said prior to my arrival was under duress and is inadmissible.”
That wasn’t true, but Faith truly didn’t care about the robbery. Well, that wasn’t true, but that crime paled in comparison to the serial murders she was investigating now.
“At this time, your client is under arrest for aggravated robbery, aggravated assault, and resisting with violence, along with two counts of assault on a peace officer, one with a deadly weapon,” she informed the public defender.
“You’ll have to take it up with Quantico PD if you want him released, but if I were you, I’d start thinking up a plea deal, especially because he’s still our prime suspect in three murders. ”
The door opened again, and Meyers poked his head in. The dejected expression he wore said it all.
Faith sighed and rubbed her temples. “Another one?”
Meyers nodded. “Brandon Harris. The kid who identified Steve earlier.”
Faith’s heart sank. She glared at Steve, but Meyers added, “The body’s only a couple of hours old. He couldn’t have killed him and gotten back to his apartment in time to be there when we showed up.”
Faith’s heart sank even further. She looked away from Steve and down at her feet.
The public defender was wise enough not to gloat. He only said, “I presume the murder charges no longer apply.”
“They do not,” Meyers agreed. “The other charges do, and your client is staying here. You have as much time as you need to talk to him, and I’ll be here until you’re ready to talk to me. Special Agents, as arresting officer, I have to stay here.”
“We understand,” Faith said. “Tell us where to go, and we’ll handle the crime scene.”
“Front desk has the info,” he said.
“I really am sorry,” Steve called after them. “I’m not a good guy, but I still hate vermin like that.”
His lawyer squeezed his shoulder softly and gently said, “Hush.”
Faith, Jessica, and Turk left the room like prisoners heading to their execution.
Except it wasn’t their execution. It was the execution of yet another innocent person, yet another victim they were supposed to protect. They had grasped at another straw with Steve Kent, and that straw had slipped through their fingers.
Now they had to face the consequences of their failure in the most brutal manner possible.