Killing With Kings Page 6

  “Yes, leave them alone. Don’t they make a good-looking couple?” My dad smiled.

  Bezu glared at me as if to say, See, I told you not being honest about who you are will keep digging you deeper in lies.

  My mom rapped my dad on the arm. “Stop it.”

  My dad rubbed his arm. “Why did you hit me? Can’t a dad want the best for his only son? I mean, if it turns out she’s not a murderer, then they could get together.”

  Juanita circled her finger next to her head in the “he’s crazy” motion.

  Mom poked my dad in the side. “Enough. You’re embarrassing them. You never mind him, Bezu. We’ll see you in a few days, son. Let us know when your flight gets here, and we’ll pick you up. Love you.”

  “I’ll see you all soon. Love you.” I closed the screen.

  “Well, they are adorable.” Bezu sat down.

  “Adorably annoying.”

  Chapter 12

  “Coffee?” I offered Bezu as she sat with her head resting on her arms at my kitchen table. Digging in the sink, I found one almost-clean mug amongst a pile of dishes. Grabbing a paper towel, I wet it and then wiped the mug, afterward filling it with coffee.

  “Did I fetch the wrong bottle of oil?” she mumbled. “I’m a horrible person who kills people with her food.”

  I set down a hot cup of coffee next to her and placed a hand on her back. “You had nothing to do with Ray’s death.”

  Bezu lifted her head. “Of course I didn’t plan to hurt anyone. I had nothing against him. I could never harm another human being.”

  “I know that.”

  “This is driving me crazy. The guilt. I think I have to file a report or something. I can’t live with myself knowing that I might have, in some way, caused Ray’s death.” Bezu sipped her coffee. Her eyes welled up.

  I leaned back against my kitchen counter. “You came here for my help, and here it is: keep your mouth shut. If your food had had anything to do with it, he would have reacted right after he ate it.”

  Bezu gave me a faint smile. As though she were trying to be brave. “But what if it was such a minor amount in the food that it caused a slower response? Could that happen? Don’t you think that I have to go into the station and let them know about the possible mix-up of oil? Please go with me, José. It’s the right thing to do.” Her eyes welled with tears.

  I nodded, my heart feeling heavy for Bezu. I wanted to protect her like a brother would. “So I’ll tell you again, and I want you to listen this time. Keep this to yourself. Ray’s death was an accident.”

  Bezu sat back, wringing her hands. “José, this is the second time my food could be involved in killing someone.”

  “The other time, you were not the one who contaminated your food,” I pointed out. “And you didn’t do so this time, either.”

  “How else could he have been exposed? It must have been the food. My food. This is a whole mess of trouble.” She sobbed. “The poor guy is dead because of me.”

  “Leave it alone.” What if her food had contained the allergen? It would still be an accident, but Bezu would never be able to forgive herself.

  She stood and pressed down the skirt of her sundress. “José, I just won’t rest until I know for sure. I’m sick about this.”

  “Would it make you feel better if I did a little side investigation?”

  “You would do that for me?”

  I nodded.

  “How? Can you analyze the food? Or find someone who could? What are you going to do?” She rested her delicate hand on my arm. “But you’re on vacation. I don’t want you to have to work.”

  “No big deal. Really. I have a few days before I leave for Miami.”

  “But what if you find out I somehow contributed to his death? Then what?” Her eyes welled up.

  I cut her off. “We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. But I don’t foresee a bridge.”

  A few minutes after Bezu left, my phone rang.

  “Is this a good time to talk?” Regina asked.

  “Can I renegotiate? Just the wedding, no cookout,” I tried. The thought of dressing up as an eighties idol made me cringe. Since my suggestion about going as the Invisible Man was off the table, I supposed I could go as Eric Estrada from the TV show CHiPs. That would be pretty easy: he was Cuban and a cop. Not too much of a stretch and no need for a costume.

  “It’s a done deal. No takebacks. I wanted to let you know that I have some preliminary results from Ray’s autopsy.”

  “And?”

  “Well…” She hesitated. “There are anomalous aspects at the injection site. It doesn’t show the response one would expect.”

  I let out a long breath. “Do you know why he had an atypical response?”

  There was a long pause. “Not yet. I’m sending tissues to pathology. I need to see the EpiPen, and that’s the problem.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “The EpiPen is not with the logged-in evidence.”

  “It’s not?” My gut tightened. What had McFalls done with it?

  “Nope.”

  “Let me look into it. I’ll get back to you on that.”

  “The sooner the better.”

  “You know something, don’t you?”

  “Not on the record.”

  “Okay. How about off the record?”

  She paused again but ended up explaining. “I know the injection site was swollen, and that isn’t normal. I can only speculate what might have caused it. Maybe Ray had peanuts on the hand he used to inject himself, or maybe the pen was faulty, or—well, it could be a myriad of things. Without the pen, I have no way of knowing for sure.”

  “Could foul play be involved?”

  “Hard to say. But the anomaly at the injection site does concern me. However, I can’t conclude homicide without further information.”

  “Is there any way that the medicine itself caused that reaction?” I asked.

  “No, I’ve never heard of that.” Regina cleared her throat. “And the autopsy results indicate there was no epinephrine in his system.”

  “Wait? And you’re just telling me this now? Why didn’t you lead with that? That’s huge.” I felt a rush of adrenaline. “Then Dickey could be right. It might be product malfunction.”

  “That’s one conclusion. As of now, though, I have no choice but to categorize it as an accidental death. If you want a more definitive answer, get me the EpiPen, and I’ll go from there.”

  “Got it.” I took a deep breath. “This is important to me.”

  “But you weren’t friends.”

  “It’s personal.”

  “Like how personal?”

  “Sorry, Regina. I’m trying to help a friend, so right now I can’t go into any details. Trust me on this.”

  “You know I do.”

  Truly grateful, I added, “I really appreciate your help.”

  “We’ll talk soon.”

  “I owe you,” I admitted.

  “I’ll add it to your tab. Maybe I’ll get you to come to the boring drama filled family party, after all.” She laughed and ended the call.

  I tried out a theory that pinged around my head. If Bezu had accidentally contaminated the food with peanut oil, which had then caused a severe allergic in Ray, who’d then used his EpiPen to stop the reaction, which had then malfunctioned—the whole thing could simply have been an epic catastrophe of misfortunes.

  Then again, that was only one theory.

  And I was concerned about the swelling. The first step in the puzzle was to find the EpiPen.

  Chapter 13

  The next morning, I walked into the precinct wearing khaki shorts, flip-flops, and a Hawaiian shirt.

  “You look busy.” I approached McFalls, who sat at a desk over a pile of papers.

  “What are you doing here? Aren’t you off for the next week or so?” McFalls eyed me. “You look like a beach bum,” he said and laughed.

  “You’re hilarious.” I glanced around the room. A few officers stoo
d at the back. “I came to see you.”

  McFalls leaned back in his chair. “So, what’s up?”

  “I couldn’t leave on vacation right away because I missed the pervasive smell of disinfectant and coffee.” I plopped into the empty chair next to his desk. “With a slight hint of old books.”

  “Even the air fresheners can’t hide the smell. It’s a permanent part of the building. Some call it ambiance others call it offense.”

  I smiled. “No kidding.”

  McFalls crossed his arms. “So, why are you really here?”

  I wanted to tread lightly. After all, he’d looked the other way when I’d asked the ME to examine Ray’s body at Sanders’ Tavern. “I wanted to find out what’s going on with Ray’s case.”

  McFalls let out a loud breath. “Case? It was an accident. A super tragic one. But an accident all the same. There is no case.”

  “That’s open for discussion, right? I mean, don’t we need to look at all the evidence?”

  McFalls brows furrowed. “Evidence? What evidence?”

  “The EpiPen.”

  McFalls looked away from me. “Oh, yeah. It was supposed to be logged in last night.”

  “I just spoke to the ME, and she said it wasn’t.”

  “I bet those clowns down in evidence still haven’t gotten to it yet.” McFalls opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a stack of papers.

  “Let me get this straight. You bagged the pen, right?”

  “Yeah, I held it up and showed you. Don’t you remember?”

  Of course, I did, but I was trying to get all the facts correct. “Yeah. I saw you set it on the bar top. What happened next?”

  McFalls glared at me. “Are you interrogating me?”

  “No, I just want to know where it is.”

  McFalls picked up a pen and scribbled something on a piece of paper. “I assumed it was logged in. It’s not my problem the nimrods in evidence don’t have it. José, can you back off with all the questions and just go and enjoy your time off?”

  “I’m trying to.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose. He didn’t make eye contact with me, I took that as a sign he was not being sincere. “But I’m also trying to find a vanishing item.”

  “To be clear here,” McFalls asserted still not looking at me, “even if you find the EpiPen, there’s no case. It was a clear-cut accident.”

  If it wasn’t in the evidence room, then maybe he’d lost it? Or left it in his car or at the bar? Right now, it seemed like he was trying to protect his reputation with his soon-to-be chief of police father-in-law.

  “We all had a rough night, José. I know that everyone was drinking at the poker game, including you. You might be thinking that more went on last night than really happened. I get it. Cop brain is always on. But last night was nothing more than a tragedy.”

  “Just to make sure you know, I only had two beers, and my thoughts were crystal-clear.” I could feel my patience wearing thin. “And my drinking is inconsequential to the EpiPen being MIA.”

  “Listen, I’m not your enemy. We’re on the same team. Ray died of a severe allergic reaction. Non-case closed.”

  “Dickey mentioned a recall on faulty injectors. Ray might have used a defective one. We won’t know unless we see it.”

  “You’ve got the TV lawyer on this?”

  “He gave his business card to Ray’s niece.”

  “Nowak?”

  I nodded. “Knowing Dickey, I bet he already represents the family.”

  “Jeez.” McFalls ran a hand through his hair. “Damn ambulance chaser. Last night I had two missed calls, one from the ME and one from Dickey. But if it’s a product liability case, then that’s not a crime.”

  “Still, if it is a product liability case, we don’t have the product. That’s the problem.”

  “José, you and I have known each other for a long time, and you know I earned my position.”

  “Yeah, that’s not in question.” Although what was in question was his story and attitude. Right now, he was acting like a grade-A jerk.

  “Listen, my team did their job last night. They did everything by the book, dotted the i’s and crossed the t’s. We’ve got it covered. You don’t need to worry about it. And I’ve got a lot going on already.” He stood.

  I followed suit, standing next to his desk. “We all do.” I wondered why McFalls was not feeling protective of a fellow cop. Was he afraid that if anything went wrong with his handling of Ray’s death it would reflect poorly on him? Or did he hate Ray enough not to care about him?

  I also suspected that he might not have ever taken the evidence from the bar. Or if he did take it from the bar, he left it in his car or lost it. What I knew for sure was that my buddy in the evidence room was not a nimrod as McFalls claimed, and he wouldn’t have lost evidence. My gut said that the injector never made it to the police station. I just needed McFalls to admit it.

  “To make sure I understand, the EpiPen made it here, right?”

  “We already went over this. And you of all people should know that we don’t need to be chasing our tails on stupid stuff. And we definitely don’t need to add any more to our already stacked workload, right? I’ve got this covered. Trust me, none of us here are taking Ray’s death lightly.” McFalls waved his hand. “Get out of here. And have a great vacation.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.” I hung up the call with the precinct evidence room. They had no record of anything turned in from McFalls during the past twenty-four hours.

  There was no doubt in my mind that McFalls was trying to cover his ass. He’d deliberately lied to me. I walked out of the precinct and was immediately assaulted by the pungent smell of the hot, humid air, quite a change from yesterday’s cold snap.

  A car pulled up one over from mine in the parking lot. Nowak got out. “Sergeant Rodriguez, can I talk to you?”

  “Hey, Nowak, how you holding up?” I held my key and fobbed my car door to unlock.

  Nowak covered her eyes from the sun’s glare as she approached me. “Okay, I guess. I miss him so badly. I’m so shocked. I’ve never cried so much in my life.”

  “I’m really sorry. Remember, if there’s anything I can do for you, let me know.”

  “Actually—” She hesitated. “There is.”

  “What do you need?”

  “My grandfather and my mom appointed me to handle the issues involved in Ray’s death. I need to find out if the shot could’ve been defective.”

  “You’ve been talking to Dickey, then?”

  She nodded. “He thinks this could be a product liability case. I mean, once we get the forensics on it.”

  “Even if the device was faulty, you can’t use it in court. It wouldn’t be admissible.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s missing.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “But I saw him bag it up last night.”

  “I did too. But apparently that’s as far as it got. I don’t know what to tell you.” Feeling tightness in my neck, I rolled my head to try to loosen up. “It’s probably sitting in McFalls’ car. Or left at the tavern. Hell, it could’ve been thrown away, for all I know. He ducked any direct questions I asked. I think he screwed up and was hoping no one would notice.”

  Nowak’s shoulders slumped. “So, the chain of custody is broken. Anyone could have tampered with it.”

  Her disappointment was second only to my suspicions. I nodded. “The case, if there even is one, is already compromised. Considering it’s civil evidence and not criminal evidence, maybe Dickey could still work his magic on it, but I’m not sure.”

  “I still want it. I need to know.” Her voice went quiet as she sniffed. Nowak shoved her hands in her pockets.

  A load rumble of a motorcycle went past. When I glanced toward the sound, I briefly stared at a handsome guy walking near the chain-link fence.

  Nowak commented, “You know him?”

  Ashamed that she’d noticed, I felt heat rise in my chest.

 
; I decided to ignore her comment and continued the conversation where we had left off. “I’d like to know what really happened to your uncle, too.” I wondered if Ray’s family could sue McFalls and the police department for losing the EpiPen. Since there was no private right of action against a public entity like the police, it wouldn’t go anywhere, but it would result in a whole lot of bad press. Even without that, I was sure the press would have a field day exploiting McFalls’ incompetence. “I’d like to help you, but my hands are tied.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” Nowak glanced at me and over at the set of parked cars. “That’s McFalls’ car over there, right?”

  I nodded.

  Nowak ran over to her own car. She popped open her trunk and extracted a slim jim lockout tool.

  “Hey. Don’t wanna see you do something stupid, kid,” I called to her.

  “Then don’t look.” Nowak made her way over to McFalls’ vehicle.

  For God’s sake. I should just walk away. Get in my car and forget about this idiot. Instead, I followed her.

  Nowak slid the lock pick in the passenger-side window. I watched nervously and scanned the area to make sure no one saw her. A group of officers milled about near the far end of the lot, but they were chatting amongst themselves and paying us no mind.

  After a few tries, Nowak threw the slim jim on the ground and went to the base of a nearby tree to pick up a rock the size of an orange.

  “Whoa. Wait a minute.” I grabbed the rock from her hand. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I’ve gotta get in.”

  “You don’t even know if anything’s in there.”

  “But it might be. If he bagged it, and it’s not logged in, then it’s probably in his car, right? I have to know.” Her words faltered and choked in her throat as she began to cry.

  “Fine.” Letting out a groan, I threw down the rock. “Just sit tight.”

  I picked the thin metal strip off the ground. After glancing around and seeing nobody, I shimmied it in the window. One second later, I had the door unlocked. I turned to Nowak with a smile. “And that, Officer Nowak, is how it’s done.” I opened the door and pressed the master unlock button. “You check the backseat.”