No Remorse Read online

  “Look. Get this shit straight. McKenzie didn’t have a relationship with that fucking douche. She had a relationship with me. Only me.” Billy’s face was beet-red. He was livid. He clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly. This guy had a very short fuse.

  “I hate to say this, but she admitted to us that she went out with him twice. She said you knew about both times. Sounds like there was something there to me. It may have just been a fleeting attraction,” I said. I wanted to see if I could get him to react in a way to make me believe he could possibly be involved.

  “I know what you’re trying to do.” He waggled his finger in front of my face. “That low- life worthless Chase was the boss’ plaything. He liked to fuck around on Carlotta, and she let him get away with it. But I can guarantee you he got nowhere with my girl.” He huffed out a breath along with his sigh. “I’m fucking done talking to you. I didn’t kill him. I’m not happy or sad he’s dead, either.” He turned his back to us to walk right back out the door.

  “We aren’t done, Billy. I still have a few more questions for you,” I said.

  He spun on his heels and screamed, “What, man?” He shook his head. “I already told you I didn’t kill him. What more can you possibly want to know?”

  “Since you work around him, can you think of anyone who might’ve had a problem with him enough to want to kill him?”

  “Probably everyone who wasn’t female. Now that I think of it, they probably did want to kill him, too. He wasn’t the most liked guy around. And that ‘coming on to women in front of us’ really set a few of us off.”

  He had my full attention. “Who are the ‘us’ you’re referring to?”

  “Let’s just say, the guy was a tool. He treated Carlotta like dirt. You can start with her, I’m sure. Her son hated him. And I guarantee you he wasn’t on anyone’s list of favorites. Not even Larissa,” Billy said.

  “Why would you say that about Larissa? She was his mistress and they had a child together,” Jones said.

  “That guy wasn’t faithful to her. Yeah, they had a kid, but he was always looking for the next girl to be a notch in his belt.”

  “Like he was doing with McKenzie,” I said.

  “He might have tried, but I know he wouldn’t have succeeded. McKenzie loves me. And unlike all these other women who threw themselves at that male whore, she didn’t.” He inhaled and tossed his head back, his long red hair flying back over his shoulders and down his back. He was confident Ms. Sims wouldn’t have given Effridge the time of day, but she did go out with him.

  “I have another question for you,” I said. “A red hair was found in Effridge’s bed.”

  “What are you trying to say? Are you trying to imply that he and McKenzie …” The color disappeared from Billy’s pale face. He became as white as a sheet of paper in two seconds flat.

  “No. That’s not what we’re saying at all. But we did get a DNA match on the hair. It actually matched you.” Jones had taken over the conversation, and I was relieved. He was definitely having a better impact with Clark.

  “How the hell did my hair get in his bed?”

  “We were hoping you could help shed some light on that for us,” Jones said. “Were you ever in the apartment? Maybe you’d been in contact with Effridge and the hair got on him, then transferred to his bed.”

  “I’ve never been in that apartment, and the only conversations I had with that clown were over the phone when I warned him to stay away from McKenzie.” He rubbed his hand over his chin. It was at that time I noticed the long scraggly beard he had in the photos on file had been shaved off. I looked down at his feet.

  “What size shoe do you wear, Mr. Clark,” I asked.

  “Size nine. Why?” He was very defensive.

  “Just curious. What brand of sneaker is that you’re wearing?” I suspected it wasn’t a New Balance shoe. There was no NB on it anywhere.

  “Prada.”

  “Do you own any New Balance sneakers?” I asked.

  “Are you joking? Fuck no,” Billy spat. “Do you have any more silly questions?”

  I was biting my tongue so as not to respond as indignantly as he had to me. “No. I don’t have any more questions. Jones, do you?”

  “No, I don’t. We may reach out to you if we think of anything else, but right now, I think you’ve provided some valuable information. Thank you.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Billy turned to walk away, but stopped just shy of the door and turned back to face us. “Hey, before I go, I have another mystery for you to solve. I got a manila envelope delivered to my house with pictures of McKenzie and Effridge. Maybe you guys can figure out where it came from.”

  “Do you still have it?” I asked.

  “Against my better judgement, I do. At first I thought that low-life Effridge had someone follow him and take them. Nothing would surprise me with him. He had no damn respect for anyone, not even his own damn wife. And she always defended the piece of shit. I don’t get it.”

  “We’d love to see the pictures and the envelope, if you don’t mind,” Jones said.

  “Yeah. Whatever. I’ll bring it all by later.” Billy abruptly left the station.

  Chapter 15

  “That was the call we’ve been waiting for. Let’s get over to the college,” Jones said as he hung up.

  We stood to leave, but were stopped by Sarge before we were able to get away. “Are you guys having any luck?” he asked.

  “We finally got someone from the college to speak to us. We’re on our way there now,” Jones said.

  “If you need any help, let Johnson know. He just wrapped up his case and has some time. We need to get this resolved. People are questioning our ability to get this one crime solved.” Sarge’s eyebrows were furrowed. He stood glaring at us while shaking his head. I knew he was anxious to get the city officials off his back. We all wanted this case solved and to make an arrest.

  “We’ll brief Johnson as soon as we get back. We have to catch this professor before she decides she doesn’t have time to talk to us anymore,” Jones said.

  As I drove in that direction, Jones filled me in that Professor Daniels was the one who had called in when Effridge didn’t show up on Monday morning. She was at the school and wanted to talk to us, plus she had the schedule we’d requested. She had told Jones she was the dean of the department they worked in and had gotten clearance from the university president to talk to us.

  When we approached the dean’s office and were shown to her office, Professor Daniels didn’t fit my expectations of the woman we’d be meeting. I’d expected to be greeted by a fifty- or sixty-year-old woman who dressed conservatively, yet somewhat stylishly. As stylish as a college administrator could be.

  Professor Daniels was a young, beautiful black woman. The conservative dress on her was very sexy. I couldn’t imagine anything not being sexy on her. We introduced ourselves to her.

  Looks aside, we were flabbergasted when she no longer was able to find time to talk to us, like she’d promised.

  “I’m so sorry. I need to cover for another professor. I have the schedule and also included the name of the student Professor Effridge was tutoring.” Her voice was as angelic as her face, but it didn’t keep my blood from boiling at her news that she wasn’t able to talk to us.

  “We really just need to ask a couple of questions,” I said.

  “I’m really in a hurry,” she said. “I have to get to this class before the students all leave.”

  “We understand,” Jones said. “We’ll only take a few minutes, and we’ll walk with you.”

  “That’s fine. I hope you gentlemen can keep up.” I looked down at her feet and thought there was no way she would be any match for our strides in her pumps. She smiled at us before hoisting her books into her arms and dashing through the doorway.

  Her pace put us to the test. She walked quickly. As we trailed on her heels, I decided it best to begin asking her questions before she reached her destination. “How well did y
ou know Professor Effridge?”

  She stopped on a dime and spun toward us. “What kind of question is that?”

  “We’re trying to gauge if you had a working relationship only or if it was more.”

  “I worked with Professor Effridge, and I enjoyed his company outside of work,” she said.

  “Can you elaborate on what exactly that means?”

  “Come on, I have to keep walking.” She resumed her trek in the direction she’d been heading. Her heels clicked in a steady rhythm on the sidewalk. “I went out with Professor Effridge a few times, but there were no serious feelings or emotional attachment between us. Not at first anyway.” She paused briefly. “I had promised myself I wasn’t going to allow myself to fall for him, but I did.” She shook her head. “He’s so charming.” Her pace slowed, then she stopped and looked at us. “I fell in love with Chase. I never told him. I couldn’t. He was a married man, and he was involved with his wife’s secretary. I decided to just enjoy the time I got with him and not make his life any more complicated than it already was.”

  “Can you tell us where you were on Friday between ten in the morning and five in the afternoon?” I asked.

  “I was here until two, then I drove over to St. Paul’s Home to visit with my mother. She has cancer. I try to spend as much time with her as possible because the doctors don’t think she has much longer.” The tears welling in her eyes led me to believe her story without any confirmation, but I knew I had to do my due diligence.

  “Can you think of anyone who may have had a grudge against Professor Effridge?” Jones asked.

  “Maybe his wife. I know if my husband was cheating on me that would push me to the edge. Thursday, just before Chase left, he told me he and Larissa were having some problems. I didn’t ask him to elaborate, and I definitely didn’t want to know anything more.” She straightened up and shifted the books from one arm to the other. “I’m sorry, I really need to go.”

  “Thank you for your time,” I said.

  We watched her walk away, and disappear into the huge brick building.

  “Let’s get out of here. We need to meet up with Johnson,” Jones said.

  He didn’t have to tell me twice. We walked in silence back to our car, then settled in for the drive back to the station. Very little was said on the drive back. My mind was racing a million miles a minute.

  We’d talked to seven people, including the neighbor, and were no closer to nailing down a suspect or eliminating those who no longer were. I hoped Johnson could help us make more sense of this.

  “Jones, come talk to me,” Sarge said. “Johnson, I need you to work with Oliver on the Effridge case.” Jones and Sarge went inside his fishbowl office. I sat down at my desk, pretending to flip through papers, but caught them glancing over in my direction a couple of times. I was dying to know what they were saying. I couldn’t help but think Sarge thought I was in over my head on this case. He was probably kicking himself for telling me I was the lead. Hell, I wasn’t sure I should be anymore. My excitement at being the lead detective had long worn off, but I wasn’t giving this case up without a fight.

  When I looked up, they were both staring at me. They think I’m an inept rookie who has no idea what I’m doing, I thought. I’ll show them both. I’m going to figure this out if it fucking kills me.

  “You okay?” Johnson asked. His voice startled me, and snapped me out of my thoughts.

  “Yeah,” I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head. I needed to get it together. “I’m okay.”

  “You looked miles away. Let’s go into the conference room and you can go over what you have so far with me.”

  I quickly gathered my photos and notes, then followed him to the conference room. We were two doors away from my doubters. Fuck them.

  Johnson closed the door behind me and sat down on the side of the table closer to the door. I walked around to the opposite side, set everything on the table, but remained standing. I made a couple of piles – one had my notes, the other had photos. I’d let Johnson listen to the interview recordings later.

  “You gonna sit down?”

  “No, I’m going to stand.” I didn’t intend for my reply to come out so douchey, but it did. I felt like I’d been put on the defensive by my own partner and the Sarge. I hated this feeling, but I’d be damned if I was going to let Johnson, another veteran detective, step in and upstage me. This was my fucking case, and I was going to make sure I was respected by whoever worked with me.

  “Suit yourself,” Johnson said. “So, give me the lowdown. I know you’ve been working hard on this.”

  Fucking right I’ve been working hard, I thought. His recognition of my hard work was much needed and calmed me a little. Jeez, I felt so damn needy. I wanted to kick my own ass.

  “Let’s go over the pictures first. I think they put things in perspective. You were there that day, but I’m not sure if you got to see any of these.”

  “No, I didn’t. Sarge has had me on a million little things since that Monday in the apartment. Just so you know, and I’m sure Sarge will tell you, I’m going to be working on this with you from here on out. I’m here to help you, not take over.”

  “What the fuck? What’s up with that?”

  “Sarge will fill you in. It’s not my place to say why the change.”

  Chapter 16

  I felt like we’d run head-first into a road block. I felt like I was spinning my wheels with the interviews I’d already had, and was getting nowhere.

  “Let’s go over this to make sure I have this,” Johnson said. “You guys have talked to everyone, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you leaning toward eliminating anyone yet?”

  “No. Based on the interviews, I can’t say we have a lean either way with any of them. But I can definitely say everyone seems to have a motive,” I said.

  “What details do you have besides the pictures?”

  “Effridge was stabbed thirty-five times.”

  “That sounds like someone who knew him, and was really mad,” Johnson said. “What else?”

  “There were no signs of a forced entry. Effridge was shot twice, but had no defensive wounds, and no bruises on his body. The ME’s got a man’s size eleven New Balance sneaker print from the scene, plus they recovered a couple of hairs. We talked to the neighbor who swore he’d seen everyone who was in and out of the apartment that Friday, but as the conversation went on, his details became really sketchy.”

  Johnson sighed. “Who do you feel most compelled to follow up with?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I think the two people who I really want to make a top priority to talk to again are Jonathan Calhoun and Larissa MacDonald. We need to understand why Calhoun hired a private investigator. I’m also wondering if he sent those pictures to Billy Clark.”

  “The better question is, if he sent them, why? What was he hoping would happen as a result? Did he know Billy had a bad temper? Did he think Billy would do something crazy or violent?” Johnson added.

  “Those are good questions. I wonder if he had pictures sent to anyone else, too. Now that I think back, I want to say Larissa said something about a private investigator,” I said. “I didn’t think much about it at the time.”

  “Then we definitely need to talk to her to see if she was sent pictures, or find out what she knew.” Johnson sifted through a few of the photos, then set the rest still in his hands down. “Have you guys checked the life insurance policy to see who the beneficiary is?” Johnson asked.

  “Jones was going to do that. I’m not sure if he had a chance to do it yet, though,” I replied.

  “No worries, I’ll do it,” he said. “We can begin with follow-up questions tomorrow and see who we can eliminate from this mess. There has to be at least one person that we can cross off the list.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I said.

  “One more thing,” I said. I removed the schedule and the paper that had Megan Green’s name highlighted. I e
xplained the tutoring to Johnson. We both knew we had to find her.

  We agreed to get a good night’s sleep, then start fresh the next day. Johnson left, but I stayed for a half hour, looking over the pictures again.

  “Who did this to you?” I asked aloud, staring at a bloody Effridge sprawled out on the floor in the apartment.

  ****

  I got to the precinct early the next day. I had tossed and turned all night. This case had me wound up so tight it was impossible to sleep. I knew my best hours would be this morning, but I was determined to push through the day to cover as much ground as we humanly could.

  I pulled the photos from my desk drawer and fanned them out. From the outside looking in, Chase Effridge seemed to have it all. Maybe a little bit too much. Good looks, a wealthy wife, a dream job, a beautiful mistress, and an infant son. But then his world came crashing down. In an instant, his life had been ended. But by whom? And why?

  I was a couple days into the investigation and no closer to having any answers. On top of the unsettling lack of direction, my partner had been replaced without any warning. I hadn’t talked to Sarge or Jones yet, and honestly, I wasn’t sure either would tell me anyway. I knew if Jones was taken off this case for personal reasons, I had no right to ask, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to know why the sudden switch.

  “Hey.” Jones’ voice startled me. My head snapped in his direction. “Do you have a minute?”

  “Sure,” I replied. I stood and followed him to the break room. Once we stepped through the doorway and I saw it was empty, I asked, “Is everything okay?”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Remember that night I got called away for a family issue?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, it was my brother. I told you he’s been battling some pretty serious problems, and he took a turn for the worse. I have to go home. I don’t know when I’ll get back.”

  “I’m really sorry to hear that. If there’s anything I can do, just say it,” I said.

  “Just catch the person who killed this guy, that’s what I want you to do. Prove to everyone, including yourself, that Sarge gave this case to the right person.”