Chapter 1
As I reclined in my car seat, I pulled a carrot stick from my lunch bag and crunched on it. Stakeouts always brought out the worst eating habits I had, and after spending so much time watching bodybuilders for my latest job, I was feeling a little inadequate. So, I decided to forego the chips and snack cakes in favor of some fruits and vegetables. These foods weren’t as entertaining to my taste buds as I waited around in my car, but I wasn’t feeling as sleepy as I normally would after sitting on my butt for over eight hours.
At least I wasn’t baking alive in my car. I had purchased a bunch of cool items with my bonus check from James Cosgrove. One of these items was a windshield cover that looked metallic and opaque from the outside but was transparent from the inside—like a two-way mirror. Not only was it less obvious that I was watching people from my vehicle, but some of the light from the sun was blocked. I no longer had to lather up with sunscreen before a stakeout.
I watched as people walked in and out of the high-rise building not far from the beach. I was starting to realize that this was a glamorous location because everyone who walked out of the building was tanned, toned, bleached, and waxed. For a moment, I wondered if there was a bodybuilding competition happening somewhere inside the tower.
I looked at a picture of the guy I was supposed to watch for. Aaron Johnson was a thin blond man who worked as a computer technician. How the young, nerdy-looking man came to live with the rich and beautiful was beyond me. He wasn’t an unattractive man, but he didn’t look like he spent as much time on his appearance as some of the other residents. He was just twenty-eight, but his sandy hair was already wispy in the front. In the photo provided to me by Zeke, he stood in a group photo with his deceased roommate, Tom, looking uncomfortable with himself as the other tanned people flexed their muscles in tight clothing.
My subject’s roommate, Tom Castellanos, had been murdered a week prior. He was found in the alley beside his apartment by a young African-American man, who was later pinned for the crime. That’s why I was staking out the apartment—Zeke was convinced that the police had arrested the wrong man.
Once presented with the facts, I knew that there wasn’t a strong case against the accused. First of all, they couldn’t find any reason that this guy would want to stab Tom, who was a complete stranger. As a general rule, multiple stab wounds coincided with crimes of passion. Tom’s wallet was found in his pocket with cash inside, so it wasn’t a mugging. The police said that the man’s fingerprints and DNA were on Tom, but that was because the man had tried to rouse Tom when he stumbled upon the body. What made this man appear so suspicious was that the security cameras in the front of the building recorded the man walking back and forth from the alley, visibly distressed. This was perhaps five minutes after Tom was seen leaving the building. The 911 call didn’t come in until the accused had already paced back and forth for a few minutes. The police thought he killed Tom, then tried to make it appear as if he’d merely stumbled across the body. Zeke thought he was afraid of being falsely accused of the crime. I guess the suspect was right.
Zeke thought the whole story stank. When I read the information on the case, I had to agree with him. The autopsy showed that Tom’s blood was loaded with ketamine, as well as a whole host of various muscle-enhancing drugs. I wasn’t sure if Tom was a recreational user, but the sedative was found in large quantities. He must have been out of his mind when he was stabbed, which must have been some relief to his family. He probably didn’t feel the knife plunge deep into his flesh ten times.
Ten was a lot of stab wounds for a random attack. I had read about enough murders to know that there was no reason to stab someone more than a few times if you’re just trying to rob or kill someone. Tom’s defenses must have been way down, so it wouldn’t take much to end his life. Zeke believed that someone was angry with Tom. This was where his roommate theory came in.
From the interviews given, it was revealed that Zeke’s guy, Aaron, was dating a woman named Sherri. The couple had not been together for very long when Sherri was caught cheating with Tom. In somewhat crude terms, Zeke told me that Sherri was an attractive woman, and it only made sense that she would leave a geek like Aaron for a beefcake like Tom. It seemed like a harsh assessment but not a terrible motive.
Apparently, when the police looked into Aaron, he had an alibi. They followed up with some acquaintance of his who swore they were at the bar together all night. The bartender said he saw Aaron at one point, but he couldn’t remember how long he had been there, as it had been a busy night. This was good enough for the cops, who didn’t really have a lot of evidence to use against Aaron. And it allowed them to arrest a man who was loosely linked to criminal activity around the city but hadn’t been arrested for anything yet.
Zeke and I agreed that it was likely that Aaron was jealous of his roommate, had drugged him, and then stabbed him to death. I knew he had an alibi, but those could be faked. There wasn’t any solid evidence to link him to any one place that night. We believed the act was purely for revenge. As far as our interviewees knew, Sherri and Aaron had not reconciled since Tom’s death. She was too embarrassed about getting caught and Aaron was too upset about the betrayal and Tom’s death.
Also, Zeke wondered if Aaron would try to hurt the ex-girlfriend, too. It seemed as though Aaron mostly kept to himself, but he was known to have a short temper. Zeke feared that Aaron would try to hurt Sherri. That’s one of the reasons he wanted someone watching the building. If Sherri entered, it could be inferred that her life was in danger.
My phone rang in the passenger’s seat. My heart fluttered for a second before I noticed it was Zeke trying to reach me.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I’ve got some good news for you,” he said quickly. “We found the local ketamine dealer.”
“Interesting,” I replied. “What did he say? Do you have him at the precinct now?”
“No, he’s actually at the coffee shop about a half-mile up the street from you—the one with the giant donut on the roof. You’re going to pick him up.”
I frowned. “Why?”
Zeke sighed. “He’s going to do us a favor.”
I groaned. “What kind of favor?”
I could practically hear Zeke grinning on the other end of the line. “He knew he was in trouble for his little business transactions. He was a first-time offender, so we struck a deal with him.”
I shook my head. “What do you want me to do?”
“He’s going to be your little undercover partner,” Zeke replied in a condescending tone. “Pick him up now and then go right back to your spot when you’re done with the task. He’s been given his instructions, but I think everyone would feel safer if he went along with you.”
“Come on,” I groaned. “Is this some sort of setup?”
“We’re collecting information,” Zeke said. “Get it done.”
He hung up the phone before I could ask any more questions. I didn’t like to be at the mercy of a drug dealer who probably hated cops more than anything. Of course, I wasn’t a cop, but this guy didn’t know that.
I pulled up to the coffee shop that Zeke described to me and a young, college-aged-looking kid came around to my window.
“Are you the cop?” he muttered, his eyes on the ground.
“I’m not a cop,” I insisted. “We just happen to work for the same puppet master.”
“Oh,” he said and started to walk around to the passenger side.
“Hold on,” I told him. “I’ve been sitting in a car for a long time. I’m going to use the restroom in there,” I said, pointing to the shop. “You’ll be here when I get back, right?”
He looked as though he was thinking it over, as if he had any other options.
“Sure,” he mumbled.
I hurried into the busy shop and went into the restroom, hoping I hadn’t made a mistake. Once I was finished, I hustled back outside to see the dealer leaning up against the hood of my car, looking bored. I let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps the guy was somewhat reliable.
“I’m John, by the way,” I said, extending my hand to the kid about to get into my car.
“Liam,” he replied.
“Did Zeke give you your instructions?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yeah. Aaron gave me a call. I told him I’d meet him by the community center on 73rd in about ten minutes. Can you take me there?”
I gave a weak smile. “I don’t think I have any other options.”
Liam returned my smile. “Me neither. The detective told me to do the sale, then wait for a cop car to pick me up. You’re supposed to go back to wherever you came from.”
“Sounds good to me,” I said as I drove toward the location of the setup. “You know, I feel really weird about this.”
“How so?” he said, a look of alarm in his eyes.
“I don’t think we’re going to have any issues, but do you want to do this?” I asked.
He looked down at his lap. “No, not really. I started selling to pay for school. Obviously, I got caught, and the cops told me that they would clear my record if I helped you guys and quit selling. I can’t go to jail, or I’d be kicked out of school. All I have to do is cooperate on this one thing and I can have my life back.”
I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I didn’t like having untrained undercover ops working alongside me. It was too risky. At least with an undercover cop, they have the training to get themselves out of a sticky situation. What did this kid have?
“Did Zeke say anything more about my role in this?” I asked, trying not to sound completely clueless.
Liam thought for a minute. I could tell that he had played the plan out in his head a few times. “Yeah, he wanted me to tell you that you were supposed to watch Aaron to see what he did after he bought the stuff from me.”
“Real drugs?”
He nodded. “Given to me by the police. This is crazy.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “And then you’re going to find your own way back to the station? I just leave you there and follow Aaron?”
“That’s right,” he said unenthusiastically.
I didn’t have time to call Zeke and tell him that I wasn’t excited about this new plan. Originally, he told me that I would just be watching the apartment and reporting back to the big guys who were too busy to sit outside a building. I guess I was roped in because most of the officers believed they already had their man. If this didn’t go well, I knew that Zeke would be in a ton of trouble. Luckily, Zeke had a pretty good instinct for these things. He was often reckless and downright dangerous, but I had to admit, he was often right.
When we got to the community center, I dropped Liam off and circled the block, finding a parking spot behind a row of trees. I could see Liam but was still mostly hidden from view. Then, I waited for the man from the file to park his car on the other side of the street and walk toward Liam. He joined the dealer on the bench, talked for a little while, then set his messenger bag between the two of them very casually. Liam reached into his sweatshirt pocket and tucked a small bundle in the bag. Then, Aaron got up and quickly reached into his pocket before shaking Liam’s hand. Liam sat motionlessly as Aaron returned to his car and drove away.
I watched as Liam gave me a quick glance before following my subject. I made sure to stay at least a block behind Aaron, allowing for at least one, but no more than three, cars to separate us. I was not surprised at all when I found myself back at the apartment building where I had sat for the better part of the day. I truly didn’t understand why Zeke had me pick the kid up from the coffee shop and take him to the sale.
Then, I watched as a young woman with curly blonde hair parked her car across the street from me and strutted up the sidewalk. She wore a short skirt with a tight blouse tucked into it and carried a handbag under her arm. She looked a little nervous, but I wasn’t sure why. Was she there to make up with Aaron?
Once I saw Sherri enter the building, I got out of my car and followed her. I waited for her to get into an elevator alone and then took the next one. Aaron’s file said he lived on the twentieth floor. I didn’t even have to look up the apartment number because I already heard arguing. If Sherri was there to reconcile, she wasn’t having much success at it.
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