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CHAPTER22
The next day, Gabe found a couple of cold cases requiring fieldwork. It was his excuse to leave the office and make his appointment with D.K. Hill. He’d like to be able to clear things up for Natasha and hoped D.K. could help in that regard. He’d called and spoken to his daughter, who said noon would be a good time for a visit.
He remembered D.K. from the academy eighteen years ago. Hill taught every class on accident investigation as well as driver’s training, and he was very good at his job. He was one of two instructors who left a huge impression on Gabe, the other being the weaponless defense instructor, Frank Grace. Both men stressed continual learning and always being prepared.
For Hill to spend his last days in the fog of “old-timer’s” was profoundly sad.
Gabe was glad Hill had stayed in LaRosa. Many retirees fled the city and state to live someplace they had never policed. He remembered Hill’s wife had died shortly after his retirement.Hill’s oldest daughter, Ava, was a cop with LaRosa, andhis youngest was his caregiver, probably the reason he’d stayed.
Gabe pulled up to the house a little before noon. If somehow Madden found out about his deviation from the cold cases, he could say he was on lunch. It was technically true since he planned to have lunch after he spoke with Hill.
Lettie Hill answered the door when he knocked. “Sergeant Fox, I remember you from my sister’s graduation. I hope my dad can help you.” She welcomed him into the house.
“How is he doing?”
She closed the door and shrugged. “Some days are better than others. You’re early; that’s a good thing. He really fades later in the afternoon.”
Gabe followed her down a hallway.
Before they reached an open door, she turned to him. “He’s in his den. I told him you were coming to ask him about an old case. He perked up. Together we found a file with the name Heflin gave us. I looked through it. The file might have all you need—I don’t know. I’m really not sure what my dad actually remembers. You might not be able to count on anything he says 100percent.”
Gabe nodded and then followed Lettie through the door. The house was neat as a pin, and so was this office.
D.K. Hill sat in a high-backed chair at a big desk. He looked up when they entered.
“Dad,” Lettie said, “it’s Sergeant Fox. Remember? I told you he was coming.”
The old man nodded. “Sergeant Fox, I haven’t seen you since my retirement party.” Hill stood on shaky legs and reached out his hand. Gabe gripped the hand gently. Hill looked old and small. When he’d taught at the academy, he’d seemed a giant of a man. He still had a full head of hair, but it was cotton white. He’d probably lost about thirty pounds and there was a slight bend to his back. Osteoporosis maybe.
Gabe chose not to correct him or Lettie about the sergeant title. “I guess not, D.K. How is retirement treating you?”
He scratched his head, confused for a minute. “I’ll admit I’m bored.” He glanced at Lettie. “This is my daughter, Ava—you met Ava?”
“Lettie, Dad. Lettie.”
“Oh, of course, of course.” He looked back at Gabe with a sheepish smile, his eyes clearer, and tapped his head with a forefinger. “Memory goes, you know. But I was glad Heflin called.” He turned away, looking around at his desktop.
“The file, Dad,” Lettie gently reminded. “The file we found for Sergeant Fox.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He picked up a thick file. “It’s all here. I remember this. Very sad, a whole family killed. Very sad. Those drunk drivers, you know.”
Gabe waited for Hill to hand him the file. The old man held on to it, seemingly deep in thought.
“What do you remember about the case?” Gabe asked.
“I copied files for all my big cases. Every fatal or complicated accident.” There was clarity in his tone now and Gabe was hopeful. “Besides the tragic deaths, this investigation was a bit of a mess.” He handed the folder to Gabe but kept talking.
“Curtis was arrested for DUI—he was in the car that hit and killed the Pope family, but he was not the driver.” His face screwed up as if he was trying really hard to remember something. “There was something about the car, something, uh...” His voice trailed off and Gabe couldn’t understand.
“What?” Gabe keyed on Curtis not being the driver.
Hill simply nodded. “Irregular. The cops who responded did a poor job.” Voice stronger now, he was more coherent. “They screwed the whole thing up. Three dead bodies and someone outside his car and passed out. Minor injuries, bruising from the seat belt. His defense attorney provided pictures...”
Realization dawned. “And they proved Curtis had been in the passenger seat.”
Hill bobbed his head up and down, on his game now. “The charges were dropped. Curtis wasn’t the driver. True, his license was suspended, but he wasn’t guilty of anything except being drunk. I tried to find out who the driver was, but Curtis played dumb, claimed he was so drunk he couldn’t remember. We pulled prints but found no match. If you’re going to open this, Ihope you find something. Nearly a whole family killed. Tragic.”
“Was there was another member of the Pope family?”
