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She left her coffee and headed for the briefing room, which had a huge conference table and nine chairs.
Six were occupied. Bob Davis, the department chair, was a former cop who had served a prison sentence for charges related to police corruption. He’d done his time and was now elbow deep in his second chance at making the world a better place.
Peter, twenty-three or twenty-four, had been hired by Clare, along with his twin, as an alternative to serving a sentence for hacking. The other four, she hadn’t met more than to say hi in the week since she had been officially brought on as an employee.
“Have a seat.” Bob motioned to Peter, who hit a button on his laptop, which was connected to the screen on the wall. “This week’s highlight is a ten-year-old case. I’ll walk you through it in a second, but I’m going to assign it to Roxanne to tackle. Good way to get your feet wet, and I’ll be around to assist if needed. Though, for the most part, you’ll just read through the files and follow up with the officers to start with. Talk to whoever you can.”
Roxie nodded. Everyone else had a case, but she was new. Bob liked to walk them through investigations, mostly what private citizens brought to them, because the police didn’t have the time or resources to look into cold cases. Bob had connections in the prosecutor’s office and the PD, though most of them didn’t much want to talk with a former dirty cop even if he had served his time.
Peter’s connection ran a little stronger, with his sister now married to a Benson PD detective.
Roxanne hadn’t even mentioned her personal connection to the SWAT sergeant. She didn’t plan to bring it up. Ever.
On the screen behind Bob, a photo came up—then another right beside it. Both were of the same man. In one, he was wearing a military uniform and very much alive. The other was a picture from the morgue.
“He was a marine?” She sat up straighter in her chair.
Some cases were never solved, tragically. Some missing people didn’t want to be found, or circumstances meant they couldn’t be. Roxanne wasn’t going to let that stop her from getting answers.
She stared at the marine’s picture. Was that the reason Bob had assigned it to her, because they shared a commonality?
Bob said, “His death was ten years ago. He was receiving treatment at a private clinic that works with the VA. Earlier that week, he had an altercation with the police, and one officer was killed during that. But the dead guy was found three days later in an alley. Reported as an overdose, but I’m not sure I buy it. There are marks indicating he was restrained.”
Roxie frowned. “He wasn’t arrested after killing the cop?”
One of her coworkers sitting on her left flipped a page in the paper file in front of him. “Looks like he ran off in the confusion. Got away. The partner tried to save the officer’s life.”
Peter said, “The deceased officer is the father of a friend of mine, so I’d like to help figure out what happened.”
Roxie nodded. “We could work it together.”
Bob rapped his knuckles on the table. “Fine by me. I’d like to find out if someone murdered the cop killer.”
When he put it like that, it almost sounded like a nonstarter. Wouldn’t killing the man responsible for a cop’s death be a good thing? Might be that the police department didn’t want this stone overturned. Perhaps one of their officers had cleaned up the situation and never reported that they got revenge.
Not exactly procedure.
She’d have to ask Peter about that later. But for now, she said, “Why do we believe it was murder rather than simply accidental? Didn’t you say overdose?”
Bob worked his mouth around. “Call it a hunch.” He wrapped his knuckles on the table again. “Everyone else has cases to work, so let’s go around, and you can tell me where you’re at.”
The guy to her left closed the file. Roxie pulled it over to her, so she could hang on to it. While they talked, she flipped open the case.
Halfway down the page, she spotted the name of the deceased police officer.
Roger O’Connell.
Roxie winced. She couldn’t work this case. Not if she had to talk to Liam, which she would have to in order to explore all possible leads.
Why couldn’t she catch a break just once in her life?
THREE
Liam O’Connell pressed down on the gas pedal, both hands grasping the wheel. Lights and sirens going. It was quiet in the passenger seat, where Officer Blake Reed sat, and in the back, where he had Officer Jasper Hollingsworth and two guys from patrol they’d been training a few months now so they could be on-call SWAT officers rather than full-time.
The SUV in front of them kept going the same way they were, completely ignoring the lights and sirens Liam had on.
“Oh no.” Liam moved forward in his seat.
