The Runaway Reporter (A Police Procedural Mystery Series of Crime and Suspense, Hyder Ali #3) (10 page)

“I want to go over there and give them a piece of my mind.”

“They’re just kids, Tom.”

“I know, but I’m really edgy.”

“Does it have anything to do with your sobriety?”

Nolan shrugged.

“Tom, you don’t have to do it for me.”

“I’m not.  I’m doing it for us.”

“At least have your lunch,” she said, nodding toward his food.  “I’d feel better.”

“It’s cold,” Nolan said, pushing the fries aside.

“And the burger?”

“Probably cold too.  I feel thirsty.”  He gulped down his large soda.

Lopez’s mouth nearly dropped.  “You’re falling apart.”

“I’m fine,” he said. He turned his attention back to the kids. They were shouting and screaming and throwing things. One was having a full-blown tantrum.

“Can we arrest children?”

“Is that a question? Or are you asking for my permission?”

“
Damn
annoying,” he continued, still looking at the kids.

Lopez crossed her arms and made a face.

“I’m sorry,” Nolan said, and then sighed.  “It’s far more difficult than I had imagined.”

“It’s supposed to be hard,” Lopez said. “Since your wife’s death, all you’ve done is drink, day and night, and night and day.”

Nolan looked at her. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Sure, what would you like to talk about?”

“What do regular couples talk about?”

“I don’t know,” Lopez shrugged. “How about, how was your day, Tom?”

“
Shitty!”
Nolan spat. “Because I can’t drink!”

Lopez threw up her arms.  “I give up.”

Just then something caught Nolan’s eye.  On the television screen, the news anchor was talking about the morning’s headline in the
Franklin Herald
. The
Herald
had received an anonymous tip linking the murders on Riverfield Street to a drug trial by Devon Pharma.  Devon Pharma has issued a statement denying their drug had anything to do with the recent deaths.

“Shit!” Nolan spat again.  He quickly pulled out his cell phone.  He speed dialed Hyder’s number.  He waited, but after several rings, it went to his voicemail.

“Who’re you calling?” Lopez said.

“Hyder, but he’s not picking up”

“What’s going on?”

Nolan told her about his meeting with Hyder.  “Hyder told me not to tell anyone about this yet,” Nolan finished. L

Lopez suddenly stood up. “I’ve got work to do,” she said.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“It seems my boyfriend isn’t willing to share information with
me
either.”

Before he could say something, she was gone.

Nolan looked around the restaurant and shook his head.  He had not only put his friend in a difficult position by stopping him from doing his job, he also had somehow upset his girlfriend by not keeping her in the loop.

Inside the restaurant, the kids were getting louder and louder.  His head began to pound and he could barely think straight.

He turned to them and growled, “
Shut up!
”

They quieted down in a heartbeat.  Their mother looked at Nolan with wide eyes as if unsure to thank or scold him.

He dropped a few bills on the table and stormed out of the restaurant.

THIRTY-TWO

Irma Ronston’s parents were devastated over the loss of their daughter.  Mr. and Mrs. Ronston had split when Irma was a toddler, but they had managed to put their differences aside for the sake of their only child.

Mr. Ronston sold insurance.  Mrs. Ronston worked as a paralegal. They prided themselves in raising a smart, good-natured, down-to-earth child.

They couldn’t believe anyone would want to hurt Irma.  They showed Lopez Irma’s photos from the moment she was born all the way to her graduating from high school.

Lopez knew why the Ronston’s were going out of their way to show her their child.  They wanted her to know Irma like they did.  They wanted her to care enough about her so that she would do everything in her power to locate her killer.

As far as Lopez was concerned, this was not necessary.  She cared more than they would ever know.   In an ideal world, she hoped to find every victim’s killer; but in the real world, she understood that it was not possible.

Most crimes were never solved. It was the nature of the business.  It was either the killer was too clever to leave any clues, or they didn’t have the resources to catch him.  It was one or the other.  She had known cases, especially ones that were high profile, where the department had thrown every available resource in the case only to come out empty handed in the end.  There were other cases where the clues were staring them right in their faces but they just didn’t have enough manpower to put two-and-two together.

This case, however, was different.  They knew who the killer was and he had left enough evidence implicating himself.

The only question they were left to answer was why.

Lopez asked the Ronston’s if they had noticed any conflict between the three neighbors and their response was… never.  All three were good friends.  In fact, on one Thanksgiving Irma had brought both of them over to their house for dinner.

The Ronston’s couldn’t fathom how something like this could have happened to someone like them.

Lopez assured them she would find out why.

The visit to Brendan Haddon’s mother was not something Lopez could prepare herself for.  Mrs. Haddon lived by herself in a one bedroom apartment.  From the moment Lopez introduced herself, Mrs. Haddon accused her and her department of not doing their jobs.  According to Mrs. Haddon, the department knew who her son’s killer was and they were protecting him (or her).

Mrs. Haddon was correct in her assumptions, but Lopez couldn’t deny or confirm them.  She wasn’t in the position to do so.  She was only there to find out more about her son.

Whenever Lopez tried to ask about Brendan’s relationship with his neighbors, Mrs. Haddon waved the question off.  She had never met them and her son never spoke about them.

Lopez wasn’t one to judge, but Mrs. Haddon didn’t seem like the sociable type.  She oozed bitterness and hostility.  It didn’t help that she was constantly taking pills she washed down with booze.

Mrs. Haddon then proceeded to rail against society and the powers that be.  They were all collectively trying to control the world and they were willing to destroy those who came in between their goals.  Her son was a casualty of that.  Brendan had found purity in life and he wanted to spread it to every person he met.  Her son died for doing the right thing.

Lopez only listened.  On the one hand, she found the woman delusional, but on the other, she pitied her for losing her child.

No parent should outlive their children.

When Mrs. Haddon fell asleep during one of her rants, Lopez quietly left the apartment.

THIRTY-THREE

Nolan sat across from Ross and his wife, Vivien, in their living room.  He had already met their other sons, Ralph and Trevor.  They both had good jobs. Ralph was married and had a child on the way.

Nolan was there to extend his condolences. Both husband and wife were appreciative of his visit.

After a few minutes of idle chit chat, Ross said, “Honey, I think we will retire to the study.”

Mrs. Ross acted like it was common for her husband to take his guests into his office in order to discuss matters in private.  He was, after all, the Captain of the Franklin Police Department, which meant there were things his wife could never be privy to.

The study was small, with a desk on one side and two recliners across from it.

“Thanks again for coming, Tom,” Ross said.

“I should have come earlier, sir.”

“You have no idea how relieved Vivien is to have you on the case.  She trusts you.”

Nolan nodded. Simone, Nolan’s wife, and Mrs. Ross had become acquainted during police gatherings.  They knew what it meant to be married to someone in law enforcement. After her death, Mrs. Ross was devastated and had gone out of her way to reach out to him.  But he was too distraught to accept her help or anyone else’s for that matter.

Ross went around his desk, and, from the bottom drawer, pulled out two glasses and a bottle of scotch.

“Nothing for me, sir,” Nolan said.

“They’re not for you, Tom.” Ross filled both glasses and then took a long drink from the first.

“Sir, can I ask you a few questions about Rudy?” Nolan said.

“Go ahead.”

“Did you know Rudy was involved in a drug study?”

“I saw that on the news. But no, I had no idea.  He never mentioned it to us.” Ross paused, looked Nolan in the eye. “Why? Is there a connection?”

“I don’t know yet,” Nolan admitted.  Nolan wasn’t sure how the drug trial had become bigger than it was.  It was supposed to be a lead only he was working on.  Now the entire city was privy to this information.

“Do the other families know Rudy is a suspect?” Ross asked.

“Not yet. Does Mrs. Ross know?”

“Not yet.”

“The prints on the murder weapon came back from the lab, and they are indeed Rudy’s.” Nolan said.

Ross took a deep breath, gulped down the liquor in the other glass.  He made a face as the scotch burned his throat.

“Does Doug know?” Ross asked.

“The report hasn’t reached him yet.”

Ross didn’t press him as to why.  He just nodded, knowing that he could trust Nolan implicitly.

“Just find out what’s going on,” Ross ordered Nolan.

THIRTY-FOUR

Hyder was at his desk, staring at his laptop screen.  He wanted to get some work done, but his mind was elsewhere.

He was still upset about losing the story to the
Franklin Herald
.  It had come to him first and he hated not being able to break it.

Veronica had sent Felix to the archives to pull up material for another story.  Hyder was glad he wasn’t following him around.

He wasn’t really angry at Felix, though.  He couldn’t blame him for what he did.  Hyder would have done the same.  He was more angry at himself.  He had put his friendship before his job.  But what else could he have done?

He had tried to confirm the connection and Nolan had told him he hadn’t found any yet.  Hyder was right in not printing an unsubstantiated story.  If he did, it would have opened up the
Daily Times
to lawsuits.

The
Franklin Herald
had been careful, though.  In their article they never once stated the connection as a fact.  They alluded to it, basing it on anonymous sources.  From the way the article was written, they were not placing responsibility on Devon Pharma, they were merely asking questions.

This was a very slippery slope, Hyder knew.  Even if the paper never accused someone of something, but just alluded to it, they were inferring guilt on them. It was like that old yes or no question: “Have you stopped taking drugs?” If the person answered no, then it meant they were still taking drugs.  If they answer yes, then they had taken drugs before.  The interviewee was screwed either way.

Hyder disliked like that type of journalism.  It was dangerous and corrosive. It toyed with the public’s opinion.

Hyder liked to focus on the facts.  There was no way the other party could refute something that was the truth.  They could try their very best to deny it, but eventually, the truth always prevailed.

He sighed.  He was just beating himself up for doing the right thing. He would’ve done the same thing if he got the chance to do it again.

His stomach rumbled.  The more stressed he felt the more energy he wasted.

If he didn’t relax, he would find the day’s fast more difficult than usual.

He needed to distract himself.

His eyes fell on the newspaper clipping about Francine’s death.  His visit to J. Robert Munn’s talk didn’t answer any of his questions.

Maybe it was time he paid him a visit.

THIRTY-FIVE

The headquarters of Munn Enterprises was located on the fourteenth floor of an office building.

Hyder took the elevator up, not sure if he would find Munn there or if he would even be able to speak to him.  But he felt it was worth a shot.

They called it “ambush reporting,” and Hyder wasn’t averse to it if it was done professionally and with consideration.

He would ask to speak to Munn and if he was refused, he would come back later.

There was no point in applying pressure if it failed in accomplishing his goals.  The last thing he wanted was for security to personally escort him out of the building.