The Mystery of Jessica Benson (17 page)

Utley’s alibi was solid. He was a cock-sure son of a
bitch, but two things were certain. He had no conscience and no
fear of Kyle. He had nothing to gain by killing Jessica, except by
Kyle taking the rap. Then the top spot on the Demons’ roster
would open up. But it was fairly common knowledge that spot
would be his sooner rather than later, so sabotaging Sands would
be an unnecessary risk for the number two quarterback to take.

Will went back to chanting his Kyle Sands’ mantra on
the drive back to the station. “The more people we talk to, the
closer we move to arresting Sands for this. He had motive and
means, Karen, and even the circumstantial evidence is mounting
everyday. All I gotta find is one shred of something solid and
he’s gonna find out what the inside of a cell on death row looks
like. ”

“Get off it, Will. There are too many loose ends in this
case. We have that creep Arnold sneaking around spying at
everyone. Tells us jack till we corner him and then he’s a regular
encyclopedia of sex and the team. And Feyzi Batan. We know he
was involved with Benson but he blows us off when we come to
him. Then he supposedly shoots himself after calling me
panicked, saying I have to go right over there. Thing is, he pulls
the trigger with his right hand when he’s a lefty. So someone
else must have set him up. I guess you think Sands did that one
as well. Batan, Arnold,” she ticked the names off with her finger
as she spoke, “and DiAngelo? Where does she fit in here?”

She took a deep breath and continued, her volume
escalating steadily. “And now Tom Grant says she flew home to
Bumfuck, Idaho or Iowa because of a sick aunt or something.
She not only fails to tell us about her little dalliance with Jessica,
but fails to mention the parking lot fight between Arnold and
her.”

“Whoa, hold on, Karen. Take a break here. You’re
getting crazy on me.”
“Damn right I am. Oh yeah, and then there’s the good
Dr. Fraga. He stinks, too. We’ve got a real hornets’ nest here.
More leads and less substance, and you can’t get your head out
of Kyle Sands’ ass!”
The discussion was interrupted by Karen’s cell phone.
She blew out a frustrated breath and answered. She nodded as
though the caller could see her, and uttered a few clipped “uh
huhs,” and a quick “thanks,” she looked at her partner and said,
“Now that’s good timing. We might just’ve caught a break here.”
“Who was it?”
“Frank Garcia. Seems the gun that killed Feyzi Batan
was the one stolen from Fraga. And there’s more. They found a
bruise on the back of his head that indicates he may have been
unconscious when he ‘shot himself.’ I’m betting that’s going to
tie Batan’s murder in with Benson’s.”
Will slowly nodded and then said, “Fraga…”
“Are we both on the same track here, thinking the same
thing for a change, Will?”
“I’m thinking we just might be, partner. The good doctor
could’ve staged the burglary and reported the gun gone to set up
an alibi for Batan’s murder.”
“Feels good to be on the same page. I almost forgot what
that felt like. What do you say we pay another visit to the doc?”
Karen nodded. “Lead the way.”

G
loria DiAngelo’s trip had nothing to do with love or family.
She used the convenient death of a distant elderly cousin as an
excuse to get out of Miami. There was too much pressure after
Jessica’s murder, and she knew a lot more than she had let on.
Her first meeting with the police left her nervous, uncomfortable,
and more than a little scared.

She had been tempted to cut her losses by not going
back to Florida, but she loved her job with the Demons and the
fat paycheck that came with it. The closest thing to pro football
back home was the Barnstormers, an arena team, and hell, the
players
didn’t even make any money there. Kurt Warner had to
supplement his income by bagging groceries when he
quarterbacked for them. It didn’t take a mathematician to figure
out what kind of money the trainers made.

Then Coach Raymond had called her and she found
herself on the wrong end of one of his dreaded tirades.
“I don’t care if you lost your goddamn mother. You
never should’ve left here at all, much less without talkin’ to me a
fuckin’ game out from the playoffs! I ought to cut my losses and
can you. What the fuck were you thinking? I want my head
trainer
here
,
now
! I don’t got enough going on here with this
Sands’ shit?”
She apologized over and over, and told lie after lie. “It
was so sudden. I couldn’t reach you before I left, and when I got
here my family needed me and, well, I just had to be with
them...”
But Raymond wasn’t interested in her excuses and
warned that he would fire her if she wasn’t back in one day. She
knew he was good for his threats, and that he was a vindictive
enough bastard to stop her from finding another job in any
professional sport should she not meet his demands.
She promised to take the next flight back, and did just
that. It probably wouldn’t have been long before the cops tracked
her to Iowa anyway. So here she was, back at the scene of the
crime, and knowing that it was a good bet the police would be
visiting her sooner rather than later.

Karen sat at her desk staring at the phone. She had just
finished talking to Kyle who told her Gloria DiAngelo was back
in town and at the team complex. He’d seen her in the locker
room and made small talk, thinking she might say something but
couldn’t get her to discuss anything other than the upcoming
game.

Gloria had withheld vital information, obviously
recognizing how incriminating it was to her. But everyone
involved in this case seemed to be holding on to dirty little
secrets. The trainer had been having an affair with the murder
victim, but the real question was, who hadn’t?

Then there was Karen’s
own
little sack of rocks. She was
sure Will had no real sense of her deepening relationship with
Kyle, but she was just as sure that he suspected more than he was
letting on, and he hadn’t been shy about letting on plenty. He
never missed a chance to jab her about the quarterback, so she
felt like her back was exposed all the time.

Will walked into the squad room munching loudly on a
sandwich. He was smiling for a change and handed Karen a
brown bag.

“Corned beef is great today. Mmm. This is my second
one. That one’s for you. With mustard on rye. Cream soda.
Sound good?”

“We’ve had some differences, but this ain’t the first time
and probably not the last. Shit happens.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, right. What
happened, you get laid last night?”
“Don’t be crude, darlin’. Let’s just say my carnal needs
have been satisfied for the present.”
“Thank the Lord. Meanwhile, back here on earth, guess
who rolled into town today?”
“I can tell you who rolled in the hay...” He twisted the
end of an imaginary moustache and wiggled his eyebrows.
“Stop. Too much information. Gloria DiAngelo is back
in Miami, and my sources tell me she’s at the Demons’ complex
as we speak. I’m thinking you might want to take a ride over
with me and pay the young lady a visit, hmm?”
Will’s face got as sour as the pickle he was now
crunching. His tone was dry and his words measured. “Your
sources
? Now just who would your
sources
be?”
“C’mon Will, not this again. I got feelers out all over
that place. What difference does it make who gives me my
information. I don’t shake you down every time one of those
bimbos of yours calls in with a tip, do I?”
“Sands, right? He’s a regular wellspring of information.
He’s set up his own investigation and he’s using my partner to
carry it out.”
Daggers flew from Karen’s eyes. “If it was
your
neck,
you’d be trying to save it, too. Now what do you want to do? Sit
around and beat up on Kyle Sands again? Go back and forth
about him while our other leads dry up and disappear?”
“You make a rightous argument.” All the anger was
gone and the positive Will was back in place.”
The rapid transition was out of character for her partner
and Karen was skeptical about the reason for it. He had a bad
temper and wasn’t easily appeased. She wanted to believe it was
because last night was exceptionally good for him and he was
less uptight than usual, but she sensed that he knew more about
what was happening between her and Kyle than he was
divulging.
Is it possible he’s giving me rope that he can use to
hang me in the end?
“Hey, what’sa matter, partner? I’m giving you your
props here. Don’t zone out on me now. Let’s throw off the
gloves and go find out what’s going on with the disappearing
trainer.” Mr. Nice Guy, alias Will Kaufman.

“Gloria,” Luke Arnold called. “You got some visitors. I
stuck them in the conference room.”
“I’m in the middle of wrapping a sprain. They’re gonna
have to wait.”
“I wouldn’t make them wait too long. They’re cops.”
“Uh-oh,” James Lundy leered. “You been doing
something you shouldn’ta been?”
She jerked the bandage tight and the running back
winced out loud.
“Hey! Fuck! What’s that shit about?” He gasped.
“You’ll be lucky if you’re hobbling by Sunday, you
make remarks like that while I’m working on you,” she said as
she yanked at the ankle again. “There’s no joke here. These guys
are still snooping around after who killed Jessica, and I’m
so
not
into them breathing down my neck. I don’t know why they’re
hassling me, anyway. I got nothing at all to tell them.”
“Hell, they been rousting everybody, so don’t go taking
it personally.” He tapped her on the nose and winked. “You
don’t got anything to hide do you, babe?”
“Keep it up, asshole, and you’re gonna find yourself
crawling till some time late next season,” she glared, rolling her
eyes upward. “They just keep hammering away so’s you
feel
so
guilty, no matter if you know something or not.” She shook her
head in disgust.
“You just gotta deal with it, Glory. Kyle needs all the
help he can get right now. If we don’t show up for him, well,
everyone knows what can happen to his life.”
“So just look at it as doing your part in getting us to the
playoffs.” He watched her for a moment, and then said, “So
long’s you tell them the truth, you got nothing to worry about,
right?”
“Yeah, sure. I guess so. Well, stay off that foot and keep
the ice on it.” She tried for a smile and patted his foot. “I’m
gonna be moseying over to the sheriff and putting in a good
word for our boy Kyle.”
“You do that, babe.” He winced as he lowered his feet to
the floor and eased himself off the table. “You do that.”

When she walked into the conference room, Will
Kaufman stood and nodded to her. “Ms. DiAngelo. we were
sorry to hear of the loss of your loved one. Please accept our
condolences. Why don’t you just have a seat over here next to
Detective Brandt.” He pulled the chair out and indicated she
should use it. Karen stared at the trainer, but didn’t move a
muscle. When she was seated, Will pulled a chair over for
himself and sat facing her.

Jessica Benson.”
“What do you mean
me
and Jessica?”
Karen cleared her throat, feeling anger building, but

trying hard to stay in control. “We’ve heard some rumors and
wanted to check them out with you directly, maybe clear the air
a little.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you’re trying
to get around to her reputation or some such, yeah, she played
around. But anyone could tell you that and probably has. So
where do I come in here? I have nothing to add.”

Karen stared hard at her, then stood up, her voice cold
and words measured. “Listen to me, Ms. DiAngelo. I’m going to
give you one chance to tell us what was going on between you
and Jessica Benson. If we don’t hear the truth — and I warn you
we already know most of it — you’re going find out what one of
our spacious jail cells looks like, from the inside. You have one
chance, lady, take it now and start talking to us. Understand?”

Gloria averted her eyes and concentrated on her hands.
Without looking up, she asked, “What do you know?”
“We know what we fuckin’ know, awright?” Will
blurted out. “We got no patience for games here. Answer my
partner’s question—and don’t ask any of your own.”
She squirmed in her seat, and finally, ignoring his
warning, said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What do
you want to know from me?”
“That’s it,” Karen spat. “You’re under arrest. You have
the right...”
“Stop, no. I’ll tell you about me and her. I didn’t kill her.
You gotta believe that. I was crazy about her. We had a little
‘thing’ going. I mean, like, who
didn’t
have something going
with Jess, you know? She got around. Heck, she was always up
for a good time and so was I. I’d never been with a woman
before, but she taught me real good. She took me to places no
guy ever has, that’s for real. It was like dying and going to
heaven.”
Will raised his hands in the air waving for the trainer’s
attention. “Yo! Hey! I don’t wanna hear the details of your sex
life here. Just move along with the story, huh?”
“Believe me, I never would never hurt Jessica. She was
good for me and made me feel good. Of course, I do prefer men,
but, well, you know, I was having a dry spell in that department
and she made me not care.”
“Stop already. We get the picture. But why didn’t you
just tell us this in the first place? Why’d you run outta town and
make us have the coach pressure you into coming back?” Will
gave an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders.
“Nah. I don’t think I’m buying this package. Sooner or
later we were bound to find out about your little romp. If you’re
so torn up about losing her, why’d you withhold valuable
information from us? Why didn’t you tell us about Arnold and
her fighting in the parking lot?”
“There’s more to it than that.” Gloria put her forehead
into her hand, running her fingers through her hair.
Karen’s eyes were wide, her posture tense. She pleaded,
“More to it?
More to it
? Do we have to beat it out of you or
what?”