Page 51 of The Sister's Curse
I went back to the office, to the Dispatch pool, to listen to the recording of the anonymous call. I couldn’t use it as evidence of anything, but I wanted to know if I recognized the voice.
The voice was female, whispering:“Hi. I’m, um…calling to report a girl in trouble.”
“What’s the address?”
The female whispered the address of the Greenwood Kingdom Church.“There’s screaming. Please send someone.”
“Do you know who—”
Before the dispatcher could get more information, the line went dead.
I frowned. I listened to the recording three times. I couldn’t be one hundred percent certain, but the voice sounded a lot like Leah’s.
When I returned to the Detective Bureau to file my report—which I intended to do in excruciatingly correct detail, minus my suspicions that Leah had dropped a dime on her father—Chief was leaning in the doorway of his office. He must’ve heard about my confrontation with the sheriff. He gestured for me to follow him into his office.
I did so, and Chief closed the door.
“Chief, I—” I began.
“Don’t you dare apologize for stepping on the toes of some privileged rich fuckers.” Chief’s eyes narrowed, and he looked pissed. “You don’t worry about the sheriff. I’m your commanding officer, and I tell you what to do.”
“Yes, Chief.”
He paced up and down the length of his office floor. “You run that investigation how you see fit—the current investigations and the cold case.”
I told him what I’d found so far, which felt like precious little.
“You keep on asking questions.” He finally settled in his chair behind his desk. “I have my own biases about this case, and I’m not going to burden you with them. You just go wherever the evidence leads. Understood?”
“Understood.”
He nodded sharply, and I took that to mean I was dismissed.
I turned to leave, and heard him call out after me. “Koray.”
He wrote something down on a Post-it note. “Judge Jorene Chamberlain is on vacation, but this is her personal cell number. If you need warrants, feel free to contact her.”
I thanked Chief and took the note. Judge Chamberlain was narrowly elected last November. She was most decidedly not partof the old boys’ club, and I admired her for the way she spoke out in the press about police violence in the national news. I’d never asked her for a warrant before.
“Chief, you think the Kings of Warsaw Creek are involved in some kind of criminal conspiracy?”
“My opinions on this don’t matter.” He leaned forward, with his elbows on the desk, and steepled his fingers. “But I will say the old boys’ club has run this county for far too long.”
I sucked in my breath, thoughts whirling. “If I’m out of line, I’m sure you’ll say so, but it sounds like you might be wanting to run for sheriff next year.”
Chief smiled under his moustache. “And go to war with Sheriff Wilson? I’d do no such thing.”
Nobody sane would. Sheriffs here handpicked their successors from the chiefs of the Detective Bureau, Patrol, and Jail Administration. The favorite was known well in advance, as he would shadow the sheriff for a time, and the sheriff would retire quietly. That was the way it had worked as long as I’d been here.
“You would,” I said brazenly.
He grinned and sat back in his chair. He put his finger to his lips like he was Santa. “Go work your case, Koray.”
I left then, my head spinning. Was Chief planning a coup, or an all-out war? Or was he waiting for the torch to be passed gracefully? When the sheriff was out for his cancer treatments, Chief stood in for him, so he was the presumptive favorite.
I really couldn’t ask him. And I was damn well gonna keep my lips zipped. Chief was playing three-dimensional chess when I existed only on a two-dimensional plane. Chief had been splashed all over the national news in the Forest Strangler investigation. He was the man whose detectives put an FBI agent behind bars. That was “fuck you” credibility in any arena.
I would continue my investigation…quietly. I pocketed the note with the judge’s phone number on it.
