AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER33
Gabe wasn’t sure what to do with the information he’d just obtained. It was from way out in left field. He now knew who the unknown driver was, but what good the information was to him was still a mystery. And as far as Elise White being Elise Pope... why hadn’t that ever come up? Gabe had joined the PD eighteen years ago and didn’t remember hearing anything about the accident, the deaths of the Popes, nothing. Elise White called Ira HoffmanJr. her brother and Senior her father. Never in her campaign did she reference her true family being killed by a drunk driver. She never even mentioned being adopted. It wasn’t in her bio or on her web page. Why? It certainly would not have hurt her campaign. Why was the incident such a secret? Natasha had stumbled into what was turning out to be a corn maze.
He realized he needed to take a chance and speak to Curtis. Natasha didn’t want to harm the man unintentionally, and Gabe understood that. She’d have to understand that at this point, there were no other options. Maybe now, with what Gabe knew about Aker being the driver, Curtis would feel free to say more... if he did know more, and he was still operating on all cylinders. He was the only other crash survivor.
Gabe directed his car to Barton Plaza Apartments. On the way he listened to the police scanner. There was a big problem at the main station. A crowd had gathered in front of the station, and it sounded as if it was getting ugly. Gabe found himself hoping Danni was okay, that she wasn’t dragged into another dangerous riot situation. Her interview with Hoffman was likely over, but with any luck she wasn’t anywhere near the station.
Gabe saw a car being dismantled on Nineteenth Street as he drove up on Barton Plaza. Three or four masked individuals were working on it. One individual was shaking a can of spray paint. He looked away, squelching the urge to hop out and confront the miscreants and at the same time not wanting to be the object of anyone’s ire. Normally, he’d have called 911, but it was just a car, no people were in danger, and if pressed, he really couldn’t give a good reason for being here on his day off. The thought also crossed his mind: there was a possibility that being here, even on his own time, could make Madden think he was working on Jess’s shooting.
The incident did make him question his mission at Barton Plaza. He was wondering if it was wise to park his personal truck here to visit Curtis when he saw Jareb Moore drive up. At least he thought it was Moore in a black SUV with tinted windows traveling north, while he was traveling south. As the SUV passed him, he spotted the bumper sticker he’d noticed the day Moore had confronted him in the alley.
In his rearview mirror, he saw the SUV park behind the car being taken apart. One of the people involved in the mayhem walked up to the driver’s window. Gabe was stopped at a stop sign. He stayed there as long as he dared and watched as the driver of the SUV passed money out the window to the black-clad individual.
Okay,he thought, now I’m staying. He made a right turn and found a parking spot on Eighteenth Street, just before the alley. In the back seat of his truck, he had a plastic tub filled with gear, including a couple of dark windbreakers. He got out, opened the tub, and picked a windbreaker without any writing on it. He also grabbed a blue ball cap. After he put them on, he looked around. Things were quiet on this side of the plaza—no cars being stripped, no one out and about.
He made his way to the entrance. The apartment he wanted was across the courtyard.
The lock on the gate was broken. Gabe pulled the gate open and entered the courtyard. He glanced across to where he knew Thomas Johnston’s apartment was and noticed the police tape was almost completely gone. There were a couple of guys standing by the door. One of them turned his way and saw him looking their direction and jerked away quickly, as if hiding something. Whatever he had was blocked by his body.
Drugs, Gabe thought. He tamped down the anger. They probably took down the police tape, but the case was no longer his. He sincerely hoped Marrs and Diamond had gotten all available evidence out of the apartment. He continued past Johnston’s apartment to Curtis’s and knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” The question came through the door.
“Gabe Fox, investigator with the city prosecutor’s office.”
Silence. Then the sound of shuffling. The door opened, but the chain across the top remained engaged. The face of an old man peered out through the crack. His eyes were bright, inquisitive. He squinted at Gabe. “Do you have ID?”
Gabe held his ID up.
The old man reached out and took it, stepping back from the door to read it. “What do you want with me?” the man asked, holding on to Gabe’s ID.
“Are you Gerald Curtis?”
“Yes.”
“Can I come in and talk about the matter? Or do you want your neighbors to hear your business?”
Curtis frowned and stared at Gabe for a moment. Finally he closed the door and Gabe heard the chain come off. The door opened.
“Come in, Investigator Fox.” He handed back Gabe’s ID and stepped aside for Gabe to enter. Curtis backed up slowly, with the use of a cane. Gabe saw his right leg moved stiffly; a closer look told him Curtis had a prosthetic.
“Why are you here to see me?” Curtis asked.
“It has to do with a traffic accident from twenty-seven years ago.”
Curtis stiffened as if struck. He swallowed. Gabe watched his Adam’s apple work. He had the expression of someone who wanted to flee but who recognized there was no way out.
“I need to sit down.” Curtis paled considerably. He made his way to a high-back chair in the living room and sat, resting both hands on the cane he held in front of him.
Gabe sat across from him on the sofa.
“Why? Why after all this time?”
“The case came to my attention. I really want to know what happened back then from someone who could tell me.”
Curtis recovered slowly. “You think I can?” he asked. “You’re really not joking.”
Gabe shook his head. “Nope. I’ve read the file, spoken to Anson Aker—”
