Chapter 2
Carter
“Special Agent Wallace, please explain the sequence of events that brought you to the residence of Mr. Brown on the day of the shooting,” the OIG Investigator asked.
I leaned toward the microphone and spoke clearly and concisely. “On 6 May, I received a tip from Confidential Informant 0724 that Mr. Brown was dealing in mass quantities of controlled substances, primarily cocaine. Surveillance of Mr. Brown subsequently followed, and on 8 May, while conducting surveillance on Mr. Brown’s residence, I witnessed him carrying what appeared to be a weapon into the home. A few minutes later, Mr. Brown exited the residence, returned to his car, and retrieved what I believed to be a kilo of cocaine.”
“What led you to believe the package was cocaine?”
“My training as a field agent, Sir. It was approximately eight inches by four inches, and looked to be an inch and a half thick.”
“After witnessing Mr. Brown carrying what you believed to be cocaine into his residence, what course of action followed?”
“I approached the residence. Through the blinds, I observed Mr. Brown sitting on the couch facing the door. Realizing commission of crimes contrary to 18 USC 922 subsection g, and 18 USC 924 subsection c had been committed, I entered the residence, and was immediately met with deadly force.”
“You entered the residence forcefully?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Upon entering, Mr. Brown fired his weapon at you?”
“That is correct.”
“And you returned fire?”
“I was advised that I did, yes.”
“You don’t recall returning fire?”
I shook my head. “No, Sir. I do not.”
“Be it a matter of record in this hearing that Mr. Brown was struck by one .40 caliber bullet in the chest, and was declared DOA by St. Luke’s staff at 20:13 on 8 May. The bullet was linked by ballistics to Special Agent Wallace’s weapon.”
I reached for my glass of water, took a drink, and shifted my eyes toward Lex. Wearing a black dress and conservative heels, she looked much different than the day we met. Her brown hair had blonde highlights, and I wondered if they were natural or something she had done professionally.
In my six years as a DEA agent, I had interviewed thousands, arrested hundreds, and encountered more people than I could possibly count. My training taught me how to read body language, eye movements, and even speech patterns. I had never, however, met anyone as difficult to read as Lex.
Or as beautiful.
She sat quietly with her hands in her lap and studied the OIG Investigator. I pried my eyes from her and took another drink of my water.
“You do not recall returning fire, agent Wallace?”
“I do not.”
“Do you recall being shot?”
I’d been shot by the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Did I recall it? Hell, I’d never forget it. I pressed my hand to my chest. Ten days had passed, and it was still sore. My third right rib was cracked and my sternum was fractured by the bullet Lex fired at me. It appeared Mr. Brown was prepared for an encounter with police, and his weapon was loaded with ‘cop killer’ bullets.
The price I was required to pay, I supposed, for the amount of money I obtained.
“Yes, Sir. I do.”
“Be it made a matter of record that Special Agent Wallace was shot once with a .45 caliber weapon. The bullet pierced his tactical vest, body armor, and was lodged in his chest cavity. Upon removal, the bullet was linked by ballistics to a Colt .45 caliber semi-automatic pistol found in the deceased’s hand. Cordite samples and fingerprints indicate the weapon was fired by the deceased.”
I feigned surprise and shrugged as if relieved.
“After being shot, what is the next thing you recall?”
“A woman looming over me. Her voice was distant, but I vaguely recall her telling me an ambulance was en route. On the way, en route, something.”
“Is that woman present? Today?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Can you identify her by pointing?”
I pointed toward Lex. She fought not to smile, but didn’t totally succeed. “Yes, Sir.”
“That is all, Special Agent Wallace. The United States calls Alex Kriss to the stand.”
Alex.
I suspected her name was Lexi, but hadn’t done a background check to find out for sure. Alex suited her more than Lexi. She was a brave woman and possessed a certain confidence I had always felt was reserved for men. Having a man’s name was very fitting.
With one perfectly placed step after another, she sauntered toward the witness stand no differently than if she’d done it a hundred times. As she adjusted herself in her seat, she shot me a quick look. It was one of reassurance, and with it, all of my concerns regarding her testimony vanished.
“The testimony you provide will be considered evidence, Mrs. Kriss. Raise your right hand. Do you swear or affirm that the evidence you provide this court shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”
She nodded. “I do.”
“On the night in question, what brought you to the residence of 12721 Holy Oak?”
“I heard two loud bangs.”
“Can you describe the sounds you heard?”
She brushed her hair over her shoulder and grinned. “Bang! Bang!”
“Did they sound like gun shots?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know what gun shots sound like. They sounded like loud bangs.”
“After hearing the noises you described as loud bangs, what happened?”
“I walked to the neighbor’s house, stepped on the porch, and saw one man on the floor and one on the couch.”
“Walked or ran?”
“I said I walked. I walked.”
“Why didn’t you run?”
She chuckled. “Why didn’t you wear a red tie today? I don’t know. I walked. I didn’t see a need to run.”
Wow. She’s got balls.
Clearly frustrated, the investigator shook his head. “Both men had been shot?”
“From what you said earlier, it sounds like you already know the answer to that.”
“Answer the question, ma’am.”
She sighed and leaned toward the microphone. “Yes.”
“And how did you react?”
“I called 911, peed, and waited for the ambulance.”
The OIG Investigator shoved his hands deep into his front pockets and wrinkled his nose. “You relieved yourself?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I peed. Pissed. Relieved myself. Whatever you want to call it. I sat down on the toilet and tinkled.”
It was a detail I had missed, and I was glad she caught it. She was in the home when I arrived, and I failed to ask her why. Undoubtedly, if she had used the deceased’s bathroom, her fingerprints would have been found, and her volunteering the information in court would prevent further questioning regarding her having been there before the shooting.
“And then what?”
“Wiped. Washed my hands without soap, and dried them on the only towel in the bathroom. Then, I waited for the ambulance.”
“Did you speak with Special Agent Wallace?”
She nodded. “I told him an ambulance was on the way.”
“On the way, or en route?”
She glared at him. “Seriously? You’re being serious right now?”
The OIG investigator glared.
She exhaled an audible sigh and shook her head. “You know, I’m not sure. He was bleeding, there was a dead guy on the couch, and I was fucking scared. I tried to comfort him. I held his hand. And, just in case you want to ask some more stupid questions, I sat by his side until the ambulance arrived.”
“Very well. At any time did you peruse the home?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Peruse?”
“Yes. Examine. Search.”
“I know what it means,” she snapped back. “No. I just told you. I sat by his side until the ambulance arrived.”
“After the ambulance arrived, what transpired?”
“I walked into the yard, barfed, answered a ton of questions, and then went for a cappuccino.”
“Cappuccino?”
“Yeah. It’s espresso and steamed milk. I find it calming, maybe you should try it.”
The investigator shook his head and turned away. “No further questions.”
“Can I go?”
“No further questions.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Can I go?”
“Yes, ma’am. You may.”
She stepped off the witness stand, met my gaze, and brushed the wrinkles from her dress. Her adjustments caused the neck to lower, revealing significantly more cleavage. Clearly aggravated, her breathing was labored. The two mounds of tanned flesh heaved with each breath she took.
My mind quickly went to searching her after the shooting. Squeezing her breasts in my hands was nothing more than a procedure, but at the time – and certainly now – it seemed like so much more.
I felt my cock go stiff.
She turned away.
As much as I hated to admit it, the shooting tied us to one other. We each had our secrets, and if they were revealed, we both faced time in prison.
My next course of action would be to make sure Alex Kriss was happy, remained happy, and had no reason to ever cross me. I had a few ideas on what I might try to lure her, but needed to see just how receptive she was first.
Considering her testimony and apparent lack of respect for authority, I decided I might have a difficult road ahead of me.
But I was prepared to find out.