Chapter 15
The doorbell chimed at exactly six o’clock in the quiet house.
“Right on time,” Regan said, standing and going to get the door for Brian. She’d changed into sweats and a tee shirt sans bra to be comfortable. It was Brian, after all.
“You look . . . comfortable,” he said, pushing past her with three brown bags of food. “I didn’t know what you wanted, so I ordered a little bit of everything.”
“You didn’t have to bring dinner,” she said, shutting the door behind him.
He took over, going right into the living room and placed small take-out boxes around the coffee table. “I told you I would.”
Her stomach growled at the aroma floating around the room. Between the hunger and nerves, she thought she might puke. “I wanted to talk to you about something to do with Colin’s case. Off the record. As my brother.”
“You know I’m here for you,” he said, smiling. He stopped scooping food onto his plate.
Regan took a deep breath. How was she going to ask this? She sighed. “I looked up Colin’s record at the police department.”
“You’re not supposed to do that, are you?”
She shook her head.
“What did you find?”
“Colin has had six excessive force complaints filed against him, which I think is pretty normal for an officer,” she added, quickly. Her palms started to sweat.
“Colin knew Ramirez before that night on the bridge,” she said. “Did you know that?”
Brian listened, but didn’t respond. She took that as a no.
“Ramirez was buying drugs and Colin tried to stop him and arrest him.”
“I never claimed my client was an altar boy.” Brian leaned back against the couch, his food forgotten. “Go on.”
“So my question is, could someone be using that information to frame him for Ramirez’s death? How well do you know your clients?”
“Pretty well. We’ve been spending a lot of time together preparing for the trial.”
“Did they say anything about their son having a criminal background?”
“Not that I know of, but I’ll look into it,” Brian said off-handedly before he stabbed his fork into the lo mein and started eating. “I thought we’d talked about you staying out of this?”
“No. You told me what to do, and I refused to listen.”
“You’re going to get into a lot of trouble if you keep this up.”
She shrugged. “That’s what I have my babysitter for.” She gestured out the window to where Dirk was sitting in his dark car. Someone must have told him that lighted cars make easy targets.
“Dirk is here at my request. I want you safe regardless of what happens.”
She shook her head. “What happens with what?”
“Nothing,” he said, shoving another loaded fork in his mouth.
Feeling like she didn’t have all the pieces to a puzzle made her angry. She skewered some food and dumped it onto her plate before going back for another spear of food.
“Are you okay?” Brian asked.
“No. Not really. You’re ticking me off. I’m not some frail flower who can’t stand up in a strong wind. No one has the right to tell me what to do. I’ve been making my own decisions since I was sixteen years old. I don’t need you or anyone else telling me what is in my best interest.” She was yelling at this point.
Brian put his plate down, stood, and blocked the path she was pacing. Putting his arms around her, he tried to pull her to him. She remained immobile and frozen where she was. She didn’t want this. “Leave me alone, Brian.”
Swaying a little, almost like he was trying to get her to dance with him, he leaned over her and kissed her forehead. She tried to pull away. What she really wanted to do was wipe off the slobbery kiss.
“I’m here, always.” He dropped his arms and went back to his food.
Regan didn’t move. Her shoulders were still bunched up around her ears, and her knuckles were almost white from clenching them so hard. She was furious at Brian and how he was treating Colin, but there was no way she could say anything without Brian flipping out on her. She had a strange feeling it would be a bad idea.
~ ~ ~
The courtroom was stuffy again. Colin tugged at his collared uniform shirt. Today witnesses were being called and Petrowinski hadn’t told him whom he was calling or whom Brian was calling for that matter.
The judge hadn’t entered the courtroom yet, and Brian wasn’t sitting at his table, his cocky smile in place. “What’s going on?” Colin asked, glancing down at his watch. Nine-fifteen.
Petrowinski shrugged.
“Don’t you think you ought to find out?”
Just then, the back doors opened and Brian sauntered in, his shit-eating grin plastered to his face. Behind him was the Internal Affairs officer from the department. Colin didn’t particularly like the combination of the two.
Petrowinski stood and stepped into Brian’s path. “What’s going on?”
“A new witness,” Brian stated, a little lift to his voice. “I’ve already spoken with the judge, and he agreed to hear him in light of certain news that was brought to my attention.”
The judge entered the court and everyone stood. “Please be seated. The plaintiffs will call their first witness.”
“I call Sergeant David Watts.” Brian stepped forward and opened the little swinging doors that led to the front of the courtroom.
Colin tried to catch Sergeant Watts’s eye, hoping for some form of support or encouragement. Nothing. Even once he was seated next to the judge he didn’t look in Colin’s direction. A sinking feeling took up residence in his stomach. He tugged at his collar again.
Every officer went through court training at some point, learning to keep answers succinct and to only answer the direct questions. No side trips and no ‘remember-when’s. Colin prayed that the sergeant would remember that.
“Sergeant, please tell the jury what you do at the Port City Police Department.”
“I’m in charge of the Internal Affairs Division. I’ve been doing it for three years.”
“Are you familiar with Officer Colin Rourke?”
“I am.”
“Have you spoken with him about this case?”
“I have.”
“How many excessive force complaints have been reported about Officer Rourke?” Brian spun in a half circle to look at Colin.
Colin thought he saw Brian’s eye twitch.
“Six.”
“Six complaints in the five years he’s been a police officer. Hmm. Is that normal?”
“For the shifts that Officer Rourke works, it is.”
“The complaints, were they by the same person?”
“No.”
“Can you tell us if any of those have any relevance to this case?”
Sergeant Watts sighed. “Yes and yes. One of the complaints was filed by Rodrigo Ramirez.”
There was an audible gasp in the court.
Colin snapped his gaze to the jury to gauge how they were taking the news. Not good. Many were leaning forward. Some looked surprised with their mouths in little ‘O’s.
Yes, he’d had a history with Ramirez, but that didn’t mean he killed him. Colin frowned. How had Brian found out?
Colin remembered the night well. Even now, when the weather was bad, he had the symptoms in his shoulder to remind him. He’d done nothing wrong, but Ramirez had come in, declaring he would own the police department after this abuse. Nothing had come of his complaint because Ramirez had been buying drugs at the time and had been using on his way to the county jail. Ending in jail himself, charged with misdemeanor possession.
“How interesting,” Brian said, looking from Petrowinski to Colin and back. “Can you tell us the nature of the incident?”
“Officer Rourke sprayed the man with pepper spray and then they fell down a flight of stairs.”
“Was anyone injured?” Brian asked, sounding sympathetic.
Colin knew he didn’t give a shit.
“Yes. Officer Rourke hurt his shoulder and Ramirez suffered a broken rib and some bruises.”
“Thank you for your cooperation,” Brian told the man then sat down. “Your witness.”
“Sergeant Watts. Tell us about excessive force reports.” Petrowinski stood and sauntered over to the bench.
“They are generated when an officer uses his stick, Taser, pepper spray, or his duty weapon.”
“Is it unusual for an officer to have these?”
“Not at all. It’s part of the job.”
“Do officers see the same people on the streets during their shift?”
What was Petrowinski getting at?
“Officers usually arrest the same people time and time again. Homeless people and suspected drug dealers and buyers are always on the radar, so I’m not surprised that Officer Rourke had previous contact with Ramirez. Many officers would tell you they’ve had run-ins with him as well.”
“Thank you, Sergeant.”
Petrowinski sat down. From under his eyelids, Colin tried to see what kind of impression the cross examination had. The jury for the most part had sat back in their chairs and uncrossed their arms. Colin breathed a sigh of relief.
Colin listened as other officers were called to talk about him and his demeanor surrounding the event in question. No one seemed to remember anything out of the ordinary. Of course not. At that point everything was going great in my life.
The doors at the back of the courtroom opened again. Every time that happened, a whoosh of air entered the room and almost every head turned. Jack entered in uniform a scowl on his face. He made direct eye contact with Colin and then transferred his scowl to Brian.
Oh shit.
Colin hadn’t talked to Jack since he moved out a few days ago. There was no need. It wasn’t like they were girls needing to discuss every moment of every day.
Jack took the stand. He filled the space next to the judge.
Brian stood and greeted him, something he hadn’t done to the other officers. “Officer Geib?”
“Yes,” Jack said through gritted teeth.
“Thank you for joining us. We have been talking to other officers, but you have a different relationship with the defendant, correct?”
“I suppose so.” Jack glanced over at Colin.
“Please tell us about your relationship.”
“We’re friends. I lived with Colin and his wife after my divorce. Colin lived with me after his divorce.”
“Have you ever seen Officer Rourke be violent?”
That leading bastard, Colin thought. Who was feeding him this information? He knew who to talk to and what questions to ask. SOB.
“Once.”
“Only one time in the five years you’ve been friends?”
“Once outside of work.”
“Can you elaborate on that?”
“No. I don’t see why that’s relevant. It had nothing to do with work or this case.”
“Officer Geib, it’s up to me to decide what’s relevant to this case. I wouldn’t have asked the question if it didn’t matter.”
The judge coughed. “I think I decide if the question is relevant. In this case, I’d like to hear how the defendant handles conflict.”
Brian gave the judge a brief smile. “Officer Geib? What happened when your friend got violent?”
Jack looked at Colin giving him a ‘sorry, buddy’ look. Colin shrugged. Nothing he could do about it now.
“I had been on a date with Colin’s ex-wife. I didn’t tell him that I was going out with her. When he found out, he decked me. I deserved it.”
“Officer Rourke punched you because you went on a date with his ex-wife?”
“Right.”
“Did he try to talk to you about it?”
“After. I think he felt bad.”
“It doesn’t matter what you think, Officer Geib.”
Jack’s frown increased. Brian was skirting the edge with Jack.
“Would you trust Officer Rourke to do the right thing at any given time?” Brian asked.
Jack didn’t answer right away. He looked from Brian to the judge and then finally to Colin. His gaze never left Colin’s face. “I would take a bullet for him. Yes. I think he’s one of the good guys.”
Colin blew out a breath and sagged back in his seat for a second. He might make it through this after all.
~ ~ ~
Regan had just stepped into the courtroom when Jack took the stand. He didn’t see her and she snuck into the back seats out of his view. When he announced that Colin had punched him, she was shocked. It was so unlike Colin. Sure, at work he might rough bad guys up, but other than that, she’d never heard of an instance where he punched someone, and his best friend? Not wanting to be seen, she hunkered down as Jack left the courtroom,
No one in the front of the room was smiling, except for her brother. Were things going that poorly for Colin? That well for Brian?
She left the courthouse once the trial was over for the day. It was just getting dark and prickles of fear cascaded across her shoulders. Lifting her head, her hair blowing in the breeze, she strode to her car with confidence she didn’t feel.
“Do you have the time?” a voice asked from behind her.
She spun around to confront the creepy guy who’d asked her that only a day ago. “No,” she said sharply.
He wasn’t her stalker. The man was wearing three layers of torn and tattered coats, and gloves with holes in the fingers. A shopping cart filled with returnable bottles and cans stood there expectantly.
“I’m sorry. I think it’s around five.”
“Thanks. I have to get these to the redemption place before five-thirty. They give me six cents per can.”
Regan smiled at the man and turned back toward her car. One step and she smashed into a warm body. “Oh, sorry,” she started, then she saw who it was and froze.
“Hello, Regan,” her stalker said. “Want to go for a little drive?”
“No chance in hell,” she said, grasping her purse tightly.
He held on to her upper arms to steady her or to keep her from getting away, she wasn’t sure. “What do you want from me?” she demanded.
“What every man wants. A chance.”
Today he had on a navy-blue shirt and jeans that looked new but were tight across his thighs. His formerly greasy hair had been combed, but was messy from the wind and his breath was minty-fresh. He wasn’t the same slob she’d seen that day at the grocery store.
“Who are you?”
“I’m sorry I never introduced myself. I’m Joe Monty.” He didn’t try to shake her hand. In fact, he didn’t move his hands from her arms.
She crossed her arms over her chest, still not dislodging him. “I think it’s time for you to take your hands off me.”
“I can’t do that. I can’t have you running away.”
She sucked in a breath. Her heart pounded and her head was swimming with what-ifs. It was getting darker by the minute. She tried to look around to see if anyone was nearby, but it was like the streets gobbled everyone up despite the fact that court had just gotten out.
“You’ve been tricky to follow.”
“Then stop,” she spat.
“I can’t do that. My employer would be displeased. I know you’ve been meeting with your ex-husband, and I want to know why and where.”
She stepped back a few steps, trying to get away. He stepped forward, hands still on her arms, following her.
“What do you want from me?”
“I want to know when you’re meeting with your husband again.”
“It’s none of your business. We’re done here.” With a quick circle of her arms, she broke free, brushed her hair away from her face, and spun around to head back to the courthouse. She tried to sneak a peek over her shoulder to see if he was following her, but he wasn’t.
Once inside the courthouse, she slumped against a hard marble wall.
“Ma’am, are you all right?”
She opened her eyes, unaware she’d closed them. She fingered the hammer she’d started carrying in her bag for safety. “There was a man in the parking lot who grabbed me.”
The uniformed officer went to the door. “I don’t see anyone.”
“I’m sure he’s gone by now, but he was there.”
“Do you want me to call the police?”
She shook her head. They weren’t going to do anything for her. “Can you take me to my car?”
He nodded and opened the door for her.
Sitting at home later that evening, she kicked herself for not making him explain why he was following her and who his employer was. She should have demanded that he tell her. A light bulb went on in her head, and she went to her computer and searched for Joe Monty.
There were a few hits and she clicked on the first link. The homepage was for a private investigator in Port City. She worked the mouse, trying to find a picture of the PI, but there wasn’t one.
She went to the next website. There was no picture on the Facebook page. At least he wasn’t a Ramirez relative trying to kill her or exact some kind of revenge. Relief flooded through her. Someone had hired him to follow her, and she was determined to find out who.
She pulled out her cell phone and dialed. “Colin?” she asked when he answered his phone.
“Yeah?”
“Hi,” she said, smiling because she knew the sound of Colin’s voice when he was sleeping. That man could sleep standing up, and he couldn’t have been in bed more than ten minutes. “Sorry to wake you.”
“No. I was just resting. It was a hectic day sitting around listening to people talk about me.”
“You know my stalker?” She waited until her words registered with him. “He’s a private investigator. Someone’s hired him to follow me.”
“How do you know?” Colin sounded alert now.
“He tried to grab me in the parking lot at the courthouse today. The dumbass told me his name, and I’ve already searched for him online.”
“Good thinking. Who is it? Maybe I know him.”
“Joe Monty.”
Colin made a noise like he was choking. “He’s a real winner. I’ve crossed paths with him before. Whoever is paying him is only doing it as a last resort. No one goes to Monty unless he’s exhausted all the other options.”
“Bottom feeder, huh?”
“Exactly,” Colin said with a chuckle. He liked it when Regan used terms he’d used at home.
“He was interested in when we met and where we met. What do you make of that?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”