Vile (13 page)

Jess stilled. “How do you know she wanted to look like me?”

He grinned. “I guess I forgot to tell you. You’re the only other thing she ever talked about besides Spears and murders. I thought she made you up too until I saw your pretty face splashed across the news.”

“You didn’t think to mention that until now?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t want to say anything until I knew.”

Jess’s patience was at an end. “Knew what, Mr. Evans?”

“Whether you were anything like her.” He eyed Jess for several seconds too long. “But I guess you’re not.”

“Why would you think I was like her?”

“She said something about y’all being alike, that’s all.”

“Thank you, Mr. Evans. We may need to call on you again.”

He glanced from Jess to Lori and back. “Anytime.”

Once they were in the Mustang en route to the Oasis, Jess did a search for the city’s mental health center. “While I’m questioning the club manager, assuming we can catch him,” she said to Lori, “try getting me an appointment with the doctor Amanda was seeing at the mental health center. I’d really like to talk to him today.”

“You think he’ll talk to you?”

“Probably not but it never hurts to ask.” Jess could learn a number of things from his reaction to her questions. If there were reason to worry that Amanda was capable of murder, she would see it in the doctor’s eyes.

Oasis, 11:30 a.m.

“Yeah, she was here.” Doug Sanders said as he loaded the cooler behind the bar with bottles of beer. “She and that Brock guy she’s got wrapped around her little finger were here until just before closing.”

“Have you seen either of them since?” Jess asked.

Lori joined them at the bar and gave Jess a nod. If the doctor Amanda had been seeing had agreed to see Jess maybe he would cooperate to the extent possible. That was always a plus. Doctor-Patient privilege wasn’t easy to get around but anything he could offer could prove useful.

“Nope,” Sanders said, “and I’m pissed too. Brock was supposed to help me with some plumbing issues yesterday and he didn’t show. He’s not answering his cell and nobody’s seen him since Saturday. You can’t count on nobody these days.”

“Does he make it a habit of disappearing like this?”

“Not that I know of. Why don’t you ask his mother? She lives over in the projects close to the hospital. Brock’s one of them guys with that “failure to launch syndrome.” He still lives with her. She might know where he is.”

Jess wanted to interview the boyfriend’s mother anyway since she was the one to find Margaret Brownfield’s body. Maybe she had some idea where her son would hide if he were in trouble.

If he was still breathing.

13

Mayor Pratt’s office, Birmingham, 12:45 p.m.

Dan had waited for half an hour. Pratt evidently derived great pleasure from wasting his time. Dan had rushed to the mayor’s office on numerous other occasions for an emergency meeting only to end up sitting here twiddling his thumbs.

Pratt’s secretary grimaced. “I’m so sorry you’re having to wait, Chief. No sooner than he requested this meeting, he was called away. He hoped to be back before you arrived, apparently that didn’t work out.”

Dan resurrected a decent smile for the woman. This wasn’t her fault. Pratt was yanking his chain. He had been against Jess coming onboard with the department from the beginning and things had only gone downhill from there. Since Dan refused to cooperate with his desires, Pratt was no longer happy with Dan either.

It was no surprise the man had jumped on the bandwagon against Dan in the Allen investigation. When the mayor didn’t get his way, he sought opportunities to remove the problem. Dan had become a problem.

He hadn’t heard from Jess since about ten this morning. He hoped she was being careful. He didn’t want her out in the field but she was determined to do the job—the job he’d talked her into taking. He supposed he couldn’t have his cake and eat it too. Be that as it may, things were different now. She was carrying his child.
Their child
. He needed her to be more careful than ever.

He’d rushed home after a long, drawn out meeting with the city planners last night and found her asleep on the sofa. Thankfully, Sylvia and Gina had kept her company for most of the evening. It was good to have friends he could count on. He rubbed his jaw. Last night’s big news was all about Gina’s secret sexual preference. He’d been surprised at first, but hey, she had a right to be who she was. No one should have to pretend to be someone he or she wasn’t. He was glad Jess had found a way to include her in the Jackson County investigation. Getting Gina out of the city for the day would give her a break from those hounding her for confirmation.

Dan checked the time again. Where in the hell was Pratt?

Just when Dan was ready to walk, Pratt breezed into his private lobby. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Chief.” He slowed long enough to gesture to his door. “Come in, please.” To his secretary he said, “Hold my calls.”

Dan took his usual seat in front of Pratt’s desk and waited for him to settle into his. For more than a decade, he had served as the liaison between this office and the one he now held. He’d had the utmost respect for Joseph Pratt in the beginning. The mayor, among others, had hoped to groom Dan for moving up in the local political world. Pratt had his eye on the governorship. He’d hoped Dan would be elected as mayor and perhaps eventually into higher office.

Time changes all things
. Dan had come to realize that politics was not for him. The level he tolerated as chief of police was more than enough. He no longer had any respect for or cared to waste his time or energy dealing with those who assumed justice should take a backseat to their perception of the greater good. Over the years, he and Pratt had come to a new understanding: they had little, if anything, in common. Sharing the same social circles was the extent of their common interests and even that ground was shaky.

If turning a blind eye on occasion and choosing power and wealth were more important than justice, Dan wanted no part of higher office. He was happy where he was. Trouble was his position as chief of police often conflicted with what the mayor and his allies wanted.

Tough. Dan wasn’t budging anymore.

“I’ve been in a meeting with the city comptroller this morning,” Pratt announced. He studied the documents on his desk for a moment before leaning back in his chair to scrutinize Dan. “The budget overruns for your department this quarter are staggering. Round the clock surveillance on no less than a dozen people.” He turned his hands up in question. “Where do you expect these additional funds are going to come from? Are you prepared to cut back on personnel? Training? You aren’t thinking, man!”

There was an issue Dan hadn’t expected today. “I’m well aware of the department’s budget overruns at the moment. But we’ve been careful the past three or four years. We’re in good shape. I’m on top of this.” Dan had met with the comptroller last week. “I was assured the budget’s on target.”

Pratt scoffed. “I hardly think so. The department’s emergency slush fund is disappearing like water through a sieve.” He tapped the pile of reports on his desk. “This has to stop. We can’t be wasting resources because one of your deputy chiefs refuses to step down. Harris should take a leave until this Spears business is over. Instead, she’s keeping the community in turmoil and using up resources. This is your problem, Dan. You need to get it under control.”

Before responding, Dan waited until he’d restrained the blast of fury that hit him square in the chest. It was best that he not lose his temper. A reaction like that wouldn’t help anyone. He had a family to support and protect. This was no longer just about him.
Dial it back a notch, Dan
.

“I understand your concerns,” he offered as calmly as his anger would allow. “I’ll sit down with the comptroller and go through the numbers again to be certain there’s no misunderstanding. If I’m wrong about the standing of the department’s budget, I’ll get things in line.” He took a breath, gave himself a mental pat on the back for keeping his voice down and his tone amiable.

Pratt shook his head. “What’s happened to you, Dan? We’ve worked together in one capacity or the other for going on twenty years. You’ve always been a team player. A man for the people. You know how to get things done and keep the community safe and happy.” He shook his head. “Suddenly, it feels like you’re an island. No longer a part of all we’ve built together.”

Dan saw red. The outrage tried to gain a foothold once more but Dan held it back. “I’m not operating any differently, Joe. The difference I see is your continued attempts to manipulate my office and my department. I work for the people of Birmingham. Their safety is my top priority. Can you still say the same?”

Before Pratt could stop babbling and say something intelligent and clever, Dan held up a hand. “No need to answer that question. I’m well aware of who you serve. I’m also aware of your hand in the troubles I’m currently experiencing. Mark my word, Joe, I’m not going down without a fight.”

“Is that a threat?”

Dan shook his head. “No. It’s a promise. I’ve looked the other way too many times.” Dan stood. “Keep holding my feet to the fire and I’m going to do what I should have done years ago. I’ll see that you retire far sooner than you had planned.”

Dan walked out of the mayor’s office without looking back. He’d had enough of the man’s games.

To walk off some steam, he chose the stairs rather than the elevator. He shouldn’t have allowed Pratt to get so far under his skin, but Dan had remained flexible and reasonable for as long as he could. His patience had thinned to the point of snapping. He didn’t intend to make excuses for the mayor’s decisions any longer.

The sound of sobbing stopped him midway between the second floor and the first. Was someone hurt? He moved down another tread or two. Definitely a female sobbing. As he descended the final few steps, he spotted the woman standing near the exit. She had her back turned to him. Apparently, on her way out of the building, she had paused near the door to take or make a call.

“No.” She shook her head. “That’s out of the question.” Her voice shook with emotion. “I have to go.” She ended the call and reached for the door.

A frown worked its way across Dan’s brow as he analyzed the voice. Recognition dawned. “Meredith?”

Meredith Dority jumped and whirled around to face him. “Dan?” The word was barely a croak after all that sobbing.

“Are you all right?” He moved toward her. He hadn’t seen Meredith in years. She’d relocated to Montgomery to take a position on the governor’s staff. When she’d been Pratt’s assistant, they’d had a relationship, and a snap wedding at city hall. The marriage ended with them still friends about a year later. “How long has it been?” At least five years. She’d left with higher aspirations just before he became chief of police. He smiled. “It’s good to see you.”

“I…” She moistened her lips. “I really have to go.”

“Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?”

She shook her head, more tears shining in her eyes. “I’m afraid there’s nothing anyone can do.” She backed toward the door. “I have to go. I’m… I’m sorry, Dan.”

She was out the door before he could get another word out. He had no clue what had happened to upset her so or why she was even in Birmingham.

Another realization dawned. Her mother. “Jesus Christ.” Meredith was an only child. Her mother still lived in Birmingham. It was possible her mother had fallen ill or worse. Damn. He threaded a hand through his hair. He should make a call to inquire about Mrs. Dority.

His cell vibrated as he reached for it. Pushing through the door into the steamy afternoon, he checked the screen. Harold Black.
What now?

“What’ve you got, Harold?” Black was working the Allen investigation as well as coordinating with the FBI on the Spears investigation. Unless Allen had been found alive and Spears was dead, this would no doubt be unfortunate news.

“We have a development in the Allen case, Dan. Can you meet me in your office ASAP?”

“I’m on my way.”

“And Dan.”

“Yeah.” He hesitated. It seemed life was intent on testing his patience today.

“This needs to stay between us.”

The call ended and Dan stared at the screen for a long moment before climbing into his SUV.

When would this nightmare end?

14

Scottsboro Mental Health Center, 12:50 p.m.

“I appreciate you making time to see me, Dr. Thornton.” He was younger than Jess had expected. Late thirties, maybe. He was also rather proud of himself.

Every wall was covered with certificates of appreciation from the community for one thing or another. He’d graduated from the University of Alabama in Birmingham. He had a wife, two kids and one dog, based on the framed photo on his desk. What he didn’t have was a high regard for law enforcement. His attitude was one of cold indifference. The good doctor evidently had forgotten that Scottsboro was called the Friendly City.

“As I told your detective on the phone,” Thornton sent a pointed look at Lori as he leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands over his waist, “I’m not sure what you expect me to say. Doctor-patient privilege prevents me from discussing Amanda Brownfield’s case.”

“You’re absolutely right about that, sir.” Jess reached for her bag as if preparing to go. “But, there’s this one little exception to that privilege. Maybe you forgot.” She fished for her pad and pencil. “You see, Dr. Thornton, you also have an obligation to inform the police if you think your patient is a risk to a third party.” Jess smiled sweetly at his taken aback expression. “I’m certain you’re familiar with the Tarasoff case of 1976. What we have here, sir, is a similar situation. Amanda’s mother has been murdered. Amanda is a suspect for reasons I can’t disclose. The trouble that involves you is that there’s a strong possibility her boyfriend, Brock Clements, is in grave danger. If anything in your file can help us find Amanda before she harms that man, you have an obligation to tell me. Right now,” Jess added for good measure.