Death Deserved (A Detective Jackson Mystery) by L.J. Sellers Read Free Book Online Page A

“Sit down. On the floor!” He needed to minimize her potential to come at him.
    She shook her head. “You need to forget what I said earlier. I’m upset about Josh and not thinking clearly. Charles wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
    The recorder was still running in his pocket, and he reached to shut it off. “Sit on the floor. Now!” After witnessing her boyfriend’s physical dominance, the last thing Jackson wanted to do was restrain her. He had cuffs in his pocket, but didn’t want this to go down like that.
    A siren wailed outside, and Jackson breathed a sigh of relief. The patrol officers would be better equipped to handle the woman. And they would be numerous. But he could make their job easier by preparing her. “I need to ask more questions. And it’s best if we do it at the department. Please don’t resist, or they’ll cuff you and charge you with assault.” He’d watched her strike her boyfriend, so they had a solid basis for bringing her in.
    “Such bullshit.” She burst into tears again and sat down at the little manicure table.
    He could finally stop barricading the door. Jackson remembered that the gun-loving old neighbor from the shooting scene was already in one of the interrogation rooms. They would have to put the boyfriend in the other hard room and the sister in the soft room they usually used for kids. He’d never had this many suspects in custody so soon after a homicide.
    Two men in uniform burst into the room. He recognized one from his patrol days.
    “Cuff her, please, but be gentle,” Jackson said. “She’s had a rough time.” He charged toward the stairs. “I need one of you with me. The other suspect might still be in the building.”
    He heard an officer following but didn’t look back. At the top of the stairs, the door into the apartment was shut. He reached for the knob, knowing it would be locked. It was. The two-foot-wide landing between the top step and the entry didn’t give him much room to maneuver. Kicking doors open wasn’t easy even with a full strike range.
    The officer behind him said, “Let me use my flashlight.”
    Jackson turned sideways, and they switched places in the tight space. The beat cop was older and heavier, and Jackson finally remembered his name.
    Officer Sanford detached a foot-long black flashlight from his belt and brought it down on the doorknob with both hands. A crack appeared in the wood above the knob. Sanford took a second swing and knocked the handle partway out of the door. The third blow broke the latch, and the door moved a little. Sanford brought up a foot and smashed it open.
    They searched the small, tidy apartment, but Kazmir wasn’t present. A door led out of the dining area to a small back landing and a set of metal steps heading down. Under a cover of clouds, Jackson scanned the area, looking down at the parking lot. He spotted Kazmir in the alley a block over. Sanford did too and radioed his location. It was only a matter of time before they picked up the suspect. Or so he hoped. But he couldn’t wait around to find out. There was too much else to be done in the first twenty-four hours of a homicide investigation.
    On the way to the department, Jackson finally listened to all his messages. Evans had made several unusual discoveries.

CHAPTER 7

    Wednesday, December 2, 1:07 p.m.
    Sophie Speranza stood and stretched, fighting the midafternoon slump. The news brief she was writing about real estate fraud was only marginally interesting, and she was still waiting for callbacks before she could start writing about the hit-and-run that had happened late last night on Danebo Avenue. Her desk phone rang, startling her. Almost everybody contacted her on her cell now.
    “This is Sophie.”
    “It’s Earl Daley. Have you heard about the shooting on River Loop 2?”
    Her pulse quickened, and she scrambled to find a pen on her messy desk. “Tell me what you know.”
    “Two people were shot at a pot farm out in Santa Clara. I heard it