Quest For Justice

Her pain touched him. Sure, she was a criminal and justice had never been served in her case, but she was clearly suffering. He wouldn’t wish this type of agony on his worst enemy. He held her tightly, letting his strength buoy her up. He would hold her for as long as she needed. It was the least he could do, despite her past and his feelings about it.

* * *

Bailey just couldn’t hold it in. He couldn’t be dead. Her grief was overwhelming. Although her father had abandoned her as a child, Bailey had finally been able to forgive him and move forward with their relationship within the past year. It had been a slow and bumpy process, but getting to know her father had been a big part of her life over the last few months. She had even started working with him on his cases, and they were becoming a formidable team. How could all of that be over?

Once her tears ebbed, she felt numb and listless but savored the feel of warmth and security that Franklin Kennedy offered in his embrace. He might be her enemy, but at least now she knew he was human. He was aware of her criminal history and everything she had done, yet he still didn’t push her away in her hour of need. She was grateful and also a bit surprised.

Finally, she caught her breath and stepped back from his touch. He offered her a handkerchief and she took it and wiped her eyes. Who carried handkerchiefs anymore? It was an inane thought, but it distracted her for a moment, and she wanted desperately to think about anything but her father’s final fate. She took another step back, embarrassed by her behavior. “I’m sorry. I guess I feel overwhelmed by all of this, but I didn’t mean to take it out on you. Please forgive me.” She softened her voice as she brushed some stray hairs away from her face. “So where is his body?”

“At the morgue. I need to take you over there to identify him when you’re ready.”

“Is that why you kept me here so long?”

Kennedy nodded. “It’s one of the reasons. I didn’t want you to see him in the trunk of that car. That shouldn’t be your last memory of him. By the time we get downtown, they’ll have him cleaned up a bit.” He paused. “I’m sorry, Bailey. I really am.”

She nodded and was silent for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts. Okay. Kennedy had scored two points today in the humane category. They could never be friends, but at least some of her anger toward him had dwindled. Maybe he didn’t hate her after all. Six years ago, Kennedy had pursued her relentlessly and had finally caught her red-handed with the stolen medical equipment that her mother needed to survive. She’d been convicted and sentenced, but, even so, she doubted he counted it as a victory.

They both knew the prosecutor had failed to gather enough evidence to convict her of her more serious crime—stealing a little over a million dollars to pay for her mother’s medical bills. However, her mother had died shortly after the theft, and Bailey had actually spent very little of it. It was currently hidden away in an offshore account, well concealed from local law enforcement and the forensic accountants they’d hired.

She pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the here and now. A new thought hit her. “So who were the two men behind my father’s building?”

Kennedy shrugged. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re kidding, right? I think I have a right to know who killed my father.”

He pursed his lips, apparently unwilling to answer her.

She pressed on. “Were they American?”

He still didn’t answer.

“Oh, come on, Kennedy. You won’t be giving away government secrets by letting me know what my father stumbled into.”

“That’s Detective Kennedy, Bailey, and I meant it when I said I’m not at liberty to say. There’s an ongoing investigation in place. That’s really all you need to know.”

She fumed inwardly but could tell that he wasn’t going to budge. At least not today. She let the issue drop for now but resolved to revisit it once things settled down. She was going to find out why her father had been killed. That was the bottom line.

It was time to go. She needed to get the viewing over with and then hide away in her apartment so she could just be alone in her pain. “Let’s do this,” she said quietly, trying to mask her grief. They left the interrogation room and she gathered her phone and keys from the desk sergeant as they left the station. She didn’t protest when Kennedy held on to her guns and knife, knowing her objection would be futile. She wasn’t actually surprised at his precaution since he had seen her temper flare so much today. Probably the last thing he wanted was for her to lose it again and have her gun in her hand at the same time.

He always seemed to catch her at her worst. Even though she’d made admirable attempts to turn her life around, Kennedy would always see her as a criminal.

They arrived at the morgue and were greeted by a worker who took them to a small room with a window covered by thick, dark curtains. Kennedy met her eye. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I can be,” Bailey answered. “Go ahead.”

Kennedy pushed the button on the intercom near the window. “We’re ready.”

The curtain opened and showed a medical room behind the glass. She gasped as the attendant pulled back the sheet. The body was definitely her father, but she hadn’t been prepared for the damage the bullet had caused. It was a horrible image that she was afraid was going to stay with her for several years to come. She nodded and the attendant quickly put the sheet back over the body. She gripped the handkerchief, praying she wouldn’t start bawling right here at the morgue.

“I’ll take you home,” Kennedy said softly.

She glanced up at him and their eyes connected. There was compassion there, yet still the determination and grit that she had always seen in him since he had first snapped the cuffs around her wrists six years ago. But, in this case, his determination was a good thing. If he was assigned to solve her father’s murder, then he wouldn’t give up until he had the culprit behind bars.

“Are you going to be working this case?”

“I am,” he confirmed.

A wave of satisfaction swept over her. “So am I,” she said vehemently. “One of those two goons in the alley probably pulled the trigger, but there has to be more to this. I’m going to find out who and why and make them pay.”

He put his hands up. “No, you’re not. You’re going to go home and stay out of the way while I do my job. I don’t need or want your help.”

“That’s not the way it works, Detective,” she said grimly. “He was my father. I’m going to get to the bottom of this, no matter what it takes.”

THREE

Bailey opened the office door, then bent under the crime scene tape and closed the door quickly behind her. She ignored the light switch and instead flipped on her small flashlight, seeking out her father’s desk. After her long night at the police station and the morgue, she’d tried to sleep at her apartment but hadn’t been able to keep her mind off her father’s murder. Once night had fallen again, she’d decided to start her investigation, which meant going back to her father’s office and looking for clues.

She continued her perusal of the desktop and noted that her father’s laptop was missing, but she didn’t know if the police had taken it as part of their investigation or if someone else had acted. It didn’t actually matter either way. Her father was a Luddite, tried and true, and kept meticulous paper files for every case. She looked around her father’s desktop for any notes or hints regarding the case he’d been working on when he’d texted her, but she found nothing. Either the notes had also been taken or he hadn’t written anything down.

Maybe she was missing something obvious—she couldn’t know for sure. She wasn’t the experienced investigator her father was. But Bailey’s computer skills were unparalleled, and she had been able to help her father close several cases during her short tenure by finding old emails and other items that the perpetrator had thought he’d deleted, or by tracking down trails on the internet that led to the party’s guilt. The internet was a gold mine of information if a person knew where to look. Nothing was ever really erased. Thankfully, she was a really good miner.

Thankfully. She thought about that word for a moment. Despite everything that was happening in her life, she always tried to recognize and appreciate the good things going on around her. Even with her father’s death shadowing her, she was still thankful that she was alive and both willing and able to pursue the case so the murderer would be brought to justice. She also had her health, a small savings account and she shouldn’t have any trouble finding another job once this investigation was over. That was a lot to be thankful for.

She made her way over to the filing cabinet, unlocked it and pulled out the first few files that were classified as Pending. The first file was a simple divorce and didn’t seem to have any unique issues, but the second caught her interest and she poured over the pages, lost in concentration.

She didn’t hear the man enter behind her, and when she finally did sense his presence, it was too late. The blow to her head caught her near her right ear, and she instantly saw black and passed out as her body slumped to the floor.

* * *

Franklin Kennedy eased his car around the corner, and then he slowed and stopped completely. What was going on in Cox’s office? He’d been driving by and had seen a light flicker in the window. He waited. There it was again. The yellow police tape was still blocking the door and the overhead lights were off, but he could see a flashlight moving behind the window. He parked and pulled out his own flashlight, as well as his service revolver. There shouldn’t be anyone in that office—especially with the crime tape still blocking the doorway. He approached the front door but noticed that the light inside had disappeared. He tried the door, but it was locked. He shone the light in the window but couldn’t see any movement or other signs of life. What had happened to the light he’d seen? He edged around the building, keeping his gun and flashlight pointed ahead of him, not sure what to expect.

Suddenly he heard footsteps, but they were running away from him. He felt his adrenaline spike and he moved faster toward the back of the building. He arrived around the corner just in time to hear tires squeal away. The flashlight illuminated a dark sedan, but it was too dark to make out the plate or even the make and model of the car. He moved cautiously to the back door of the building and tried the knob. The door opened in his hand.

He was fairly certain that he had scared off whoever had been in the office suite, but he needed to investigate nonetheless. The forensic team had already come and gone, but had law enforcement missed something? What was so important that someone felt the need to break in? The crime tapes usually stayed up until after all of the interviews were completed, just in case they had to return and look for more evidence as a result of new information gained through the interview process. So far his interviews had yielded zilch, which almost guaranteed he would be returning at some point, just in case he could discover a new clue. He turned on the light switch by the back door and stowed his flashlight.

The groan surprised him, and he instantly raised his gun. “Sheriff’s department. Show yourself. Now.”

No one answered and he advanced slowly, not sure what to expect. He stepped around an overturned table and a mess on the floor and then he spotted Bailey Cox, lying prone on the floor. He glanced around to make sure there wasn’t someone hiding in the shadows. Seeing no one, he holstered his gun and rushed to her side.

“Bailey? Are you okay?”

Bailey slowly opened her eyes and winced. Her hand went instantly to her wound. Franklin caught her hand and gently moved it away so he could get a better look at her injury.

“Kennedy?”

“Yeah, it’s me. What are you doing in here? It was blocked off for a reason.” It was too soon for her to be in here. Any evidence they seized now would be tainted. He pushed the regulations out of his head and focused on Bailey. She obviously hadn’t been the only one here. Someone else thought there was something to find in this office as well and was trying to make sure Bailey and the police remained clueless. What had they missed?

Bailey squinted against the light and moaned again. There was a large bump forming over her right ear and a trickle of blood matted her hair. That seemed to be her only injury. He stood and looked around for a freezer containing some ice, but the office didn’t have one, so he headed to the bathroom and then returned with a cool, wet hand towel. As he returned, Bailey was trying to sit up, but he gently pushed her back down.

“Here, take this. It might help,” he said softly as he put the towel in her hand.

She pushed the towel away, suddenly agitated. “The files...where are they?”

“You’re bleeding.” He took the towel back and started carefully cleaning her wound. He was surprised that she allowed his ministrations, but her docility was probably due to the pain. A wound like that had to hurt. “Is that better?”

“Yes. Thank you.” She took a deep breath. “You wouldn’t happen to have any aspirin, would you?”

“Not on me. Sorry. Did your dad keep any here in the office?”

“I don’t remember seeing any,” she said softly.

“Did you see who hit you?”

“No, I was reading a file...” She suddenly tried to sit up again and her eyes darted quickly around her. This time, he helped her up to a sitting position. She kept the towel pressed against her wound as she looked around. Her shoulders slumped. “The files are gone.”

“What files?”

“My dad kept hard copies of his files that mirrored the files on his computer, but the written versions went into a lot more detail. I was reading through the files for his open investigations when someone came in here and hit me. I only got a chance to look at a couple of them. Whoever hit me must have taken the files when they left. I had a whole stack of them sitting right here.” She motioned toward an empty spot on the floor.

“Well, it’s a good thing I interrupted him when I did. If I hadn’t, he might have killed you.”

Bailey shrugged. “Even so, I’m not going to stop investigating. I told you I’m going to find out who ordered my father’s murder. That’s exactly what I intend to do, with or without those files.”

“And I told you to stay away from this case. You’re too close.” He leaned back. “We took his computer as part of our investigation and have a team of experts going over it as we speak.”

“That’s not going to do you much good. He barely used the thing.”

Kennedy shrugged. “Even so...”

“Aren’t you the one investigating? Shouldn’t you be the one going over it?” Her voice was skeptical, and her tone bothered him, although he wasn’t sure why. Why should he care what she thought of him? He pushed the thought away and focused on the conversation. Maybe he could learn something valuable from Bailey. Sometimes witnesses and family members knew things that they didn’t even realize would help solve the case. He wanted her to relax her guard around him. She just might let something important slip.

“Yes, I went through his computer earlier today, but I didn’t see anything that would raise a red flag. I’m not a hacker, though. I needed a bit of help, and police work is a team effort.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And what have you and your squad discovered?”

Protocol meant he shouldn’t answer her—but if he wanted her to open up to him, he’d have to give a little. “Nothing yet. Everything so far seems rather routine. Nothing worth killing over, at any rate. He hadn’t even updated any of his computer files for over two weeks. Whatever he discovered the night he was killed isn’t noted on the hard drive. We’ll keep going over it, though, as the case progresses. Once we have a few leads, we might see something that ties everything together.”

“That’s why you need me. I might see something that you and your team don’t. I can save you valuable time.”

Frank shook his head. There was no way he was working with a convicted felon on a murder investigation, especially when the victim was the felon’s father. It was a recipe for disaster. Still, he hadn’t interviewed her yet regarding the murder, so now was as good a time as any. He’d planned on looking her up tomorrow anyway. “Look, you were working with your dad, right? How well did you know the cases he was working on?”

She paused for a moment, displeased that he had changed the subject, before apparently deciding to let him get away with it. “We’ve only been working together for the last six months or so. I don’t know all of his cases. I only worked with him on those that required computer expertise. That’s why I came here today—to learn more about the other ones that I wasn’t working on, but now that the files are missing, I’ll need to see his computer to get the names and details of the other clients.”

Frank ignored her subtle push to access her father’s computer and sat on the corner of her father’s desk. “So, how many cases were you working?”

“Bits and pieces of four of them.”

“Do you see any connections between those cases and his death?”

“No. Like you said before, nothing worth killing over. Three of the cases are common divorces with the parties trying to hide assets, but none of them are worth more than about 150K. The other is a young lady that was adopted as an infant who is looking for her birth parents. I’ve already made a lot of progress on that case—I’ve found the birth mother and have leads on the biological father. Everyone involved seems pretty ordinary, so I doubt that has anything to do with my father’s death, either.”

“Did your dad have a backup hard drive?”

Bailey shook her head. “No. I was trying to get him to back up his laptop, but he kept telling me that’s what the paper files were for.” She pulled herself to her feet, swayed a bit and grabbed the wall for support.

Frank stood and quickly led her to her father’s office chair and had her sit again. Rather than appreciating his help, however, she pulled her arm roughly away from him.

“I’m okay.”

He put up his hands in mock surrender. “Maybe you should take it easy for a while. I can call an ambulance if you need one.”

“Don’t you dare,” she said in a low voice. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Sure you are.” He returned to sitting on the side of the desk. He wasn’t going to argue with her, but he was going to make sure she was okay and could safely get home before he left her this evening.

“So when can I get my father’s computer back?”

“It’s going to be a while.”

“Look, let’s just cut through the dancing. Since the files were stolen, I need that computer to find out what case is related to his murder. Even if it hasn’t been updated, I might be able to make a connection.”

“That’s not going to happen.” He could see the anger erupting within her, but to her credit, she didn’t lash out this time. He tried to mollify her. “Look. We’re both making a very big assumption here—that his death is related to one of his cases.”

“He led a pretty simple life. I can’t imagine he was into anything dangerous outside of his work.” She paused.

He drew his lips into a thin line.

Bailey visibly fumed but still managed to hold her temper. He ran his hand through his hair and decided to change the subject again. “Let’s take a step back. Did your dad have any enemies?”

Bailey exhaled. “Not that I know of, but to be fair, I’ve only been working with him for the last six months or so, and he didn’t share everything with me. Before we started working together, I didn’t even know him that well, but I still can’t imagine that he was into anything dangerous.”

Franklin thought about that for a minute. From what he remembered, Bailey’s parents had divorced when she was a baby, and while her mother had used drugs and neglected her, leaving her on her own to raise herself, the story went that her father had basically abandoned her. “I thought you didn’t get along with your father.”

“I didn’t even know him, but after I got out of prison, I looked him up and found out the truth. My parents got married right after my father joined the military. He was sent overseas, and my mom got lonely and started self-medicating with drugs and alcohol. She never even told him she was pregnant before they divorced. My father left the military and took a post in Germany where he worked for years. He never remarried.” She took a breath. “He didn’t even know I existed until I walked through his door.”

Frank absorbed this information. He could tell it had taken a lot out of her to share such a painful story. He had also felt the sting of abandonment during his life and was glad that she had at least been able to reconcile with her father before his death. He paused for a few moments, lost in thought, then moved on. “What about his past cases? Any unhappy customers?”

Bailey shook her head. “Again, not that I know of.” She met his eye when she spoke, but then he noticed her studying the items on her father’s desk. The cup of coffee her father had been drinking before his death was still sitting on the coaster, now with a slight film on the top. There was some mail in a pile, including a few bills. They’d already checked out his accounts and discovered that Cox was up-to-date with his payments and his business was financially sound. His death wasn’t tied to money troubles.

Franklin grimaced, remembering his disappointment at finding that Cox didn’t have any unusually large amounts of cash in any of his accounts. He’d secretly hoped that Bailey had given him some of the money she’d stolen, which would give him an excuse to hunt for the stolen cash once again. Unfortunately, all he’d found were the normal debts and purchases of a man making the salary he’d claimed on his tax returns.

He watched Bailey carefully. Yes, she had already done her time, but it burned him that she had gotten off for stealing the money and only gotten a light two-year sentence for the other thefts. No one should benefit from breaking the law. But she’d had her day in court and she had won. They couldn’t even prove she had the cash, and jeopardy had attached. She couldn’t be tried twice for the same crime, even if they discovered new evidence. Deep down, he knew she had taken the money and he couldn’t let her get away with it.

Before this case was over, he wanted more than just to find Cox’s killer. He wanted Bailey Cox to lead him to the stolen money so he could close that case once and for all.

FOUR

Bailey crossed her legs right over left and a few seconds later moved them back to left over right. Her left hand nervously drummed a tune. Her dress slacks and shirt were the only formal clothes she owned, and she wore them so infrequently that they made her incredibly uncomfortable. She was a jeans-and-T-shirt kind of girl. But she would dress the part if needed to find out who murdered her father. She anxiously glanced around the room. How much longer would she have to wait? That was another thing she wasn’t good at—waiting.

Thankfulness, she told herself. She needed to remember and focus on the good, not the bad. She was thankful that she had the appropriate clothing for this meeting and thankful that she had gotten a meeting with the VP of Gates Industries in the first place. There were always blessings all around her. All she had to do was take the time to look and notice them.

She looked around the posh waiting room and noticed a dark-haired man in black clothes sitting across from her, thumbing through a magazine. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about him made her uncomfortable. He glanced at her and she gave him a smile, but he frowned and returned to his magazine, and the dislike she’d seen in his eyes made her skin start to crawl. She stood and paced a bit, avoiding the man and trying to release some of her nervous energy.