Raven: A political thriller Page 3

  Don remembered his college days when he’d attended all-night parties or, on rare occasions, the all-night study group that his friends put together when a major test was scheduled unexpectedly. They never seemed to take as much of a toll on his body as he felt that morning. He even had trouble focusing on the print in the newspaper as his mother, Maggie, walked in from the pantry with the measuring cup of dog food in her hand.

  Maggie was young-looking for fifty-two. Even though it was early, she was fully dressed, with makeup flawlessly put on and not a hair out of place. Maggie liked to look her best even if she had no place to go for the day. Since Don’s father passed away a few years back, she had many suitors who called but none that ever seemed to interest her. She had a busy social life, and caring for another man wasn’t in the cards for her. That’s why she really wasn’t that happy when Don moved back home. She made it clear this was only temporary until he found something permanent. It was a situation they both made the best of.

  Maggie walked past Don and patted him on the shoulder and then walked over to Bear’s food dish and filled it with dog food. She set the measuring cup on the counter and then bent down and gave Bear a big hug before giving him the command that it was okay to eat. She especially liked the secure feeling she had, knowing Bear would protect her day or night, and would miss him once Don moved out. She was hoping when that time came, Bear would be a permanent fixture in her house—as Don’s long hours didn’t leave much time for the care of a canine, much less a female partner.

  “You feed him first,” Don said, looking up at her.

  “He wasn’t carousing all night,” Maggie said with a stern look on her face and then quickly added, “Besides, you aren’t helpless.”

  Don got up and walked over to the counter and then took a cup off the rack and poured himself a cup of coffee.

  “Come on ma, not this early,” Don begged.

  “I’m sure Jackie didn’t feed you breakfast every morning.”

  Don laughed. He was lucky if she was ever awake when he left in the morning. He wondered how she could keep up the stamina. He generally came home well after midnight. She had to have had a revolving door with the men who came to the apartment while he was working. He never let on to Maggie the true nature of his parting with Jackie. It technically was his fault, because if he had been home more maybe she wouldn’t have sought out the company of other men. But that was neither here nor there. His job required long hours, and crime never stopped in a city that seemed never to sleep. Washington, DC, was like the Big Apple, but then all big cities were like that. It’s just the Big Apple touted that in their tourist ads.

  Don turned to Maggie. “You leave Jackie out of this.”

  “She wanted a commitment, was that so difficult?”

  Don laughed, wondering whom she wanted the commitment from. He didn’t want to burst his mother’s bubble and clue her in that Jackie was seeing other men while she was with him. Don just shook his head and took the brunt of his mother’s criticism.

  “You know the kind of life I live?”

  Maggie’s jaw muscles tensed. It always angered her when Don used his father for an excuse because of his failed relationships. All she did was point an accusing finger at him.

  “Your father was a cop for thirty years. He provided us with a home, food on the table,” she said and then started to choke up. “It was a good life.”

  It may have been a good life, but she would have been willing to give up a lot of things to have him home more often. Especially raising three boys. They needed their father at home, not chasing criminals around a city that seemed never to really care about the lives of the men who serviced it.

  “We also had a picture on the mantel to remind us what he looked like.”

  “Your father was a good man. He did his best.”

  Don quickly got up. He didn’t like arguing with his mother, and certainly not about his father. In all actuality, he’d loved his father. He was a hard-working cop killed in the line of duty. It was hard on the family once he was gone, but his anger over his not being around during his youth always seemed to come up in his arguments with his mother. He regretted now not being able to let that go. All he could do was shake his head and turn to Maggie.

  “Ma, I’m not saying he wasn’t. It’s not easy being a cop and having a life too.”

  Maggie was tired of waiting for grandchildren. All she could muster up was to turn and stare at Don. None of her sons were married. One lived out on the West Coast and worked for one of the largest tech firms out there. He lived the footloose and fancy-free life of a bachelor and wasn’t about to give that up any time soon. The other was a stockbroker in the Big Apple with a penthouse apartment who only dated models, so she never felt like offspring were in the picture for him either. Her only hopes for grandchildren were from Don, but, given his history of failed relationships, she was almost to the point of giving up all hopes of ever hearing the pitter-patter of little feet in his future.

  “You didn’t give it a chance. You never do. It was a place to hang your hat and nothing more. What can you expect from any respectable woman?”

  Don just got up. It was useless to argue with his mother. He walked over to his suit jacket on the hanger near the door. He quickly put it on and took the keys off the key rack and then finally turned to his mother.

  “I’ll stop off and get breakfast on my way in,” he said as he put his jacket on. “You have a nice day, Ma.”

  Don turned and glanced at Maggie. The look on her face was that of sadness. He quickly walked over, bent down, and kissed her on the cheek. Don knew what she wanted and, as much as he would like to oblige her, he just hadn’t found the right woman to settle down with yet. The women nowadays wanted more from a relationship than two ships passing in the night. He liked his job and wasn’t about to give it up at this point in his life. Don glanced down at the dog sitting at the empty food dish as if expecting more. The canine just stared up at Don and bared his teeth. The dog was actually Jackie’s, but in the end he was too much to care for. So, when she kicked Don out, she made sure Bear, her once faithful Rottweiler, went with him.

  Don whispered in Maggie’s ear, “I’m sorry you thought Jackie was the one.”

  Don shook his head and then turned and walked out. He would have loved to take his coffee with him in a travel mug, but after his conversation with Maggie, taking coffee with him was the last thing on his mind. It was going to be a long drive to the station house. His only alternative was a drive-thru.

  When he finally reached the drive-thru of the first fast-food joint he saw, he ordered a large black coffee and two breakfast sandwiches to go. The large coffee would be the only thing he had going for him to make sure he would make it through the day. The breakfast sandwiches would be enough to stop the growling in his stomach because he hadn’t had food since early yesterday afternoon. This was not going to be an easy day for him, and he only hoped there were no new homicides to investigate.

  Don walked into the station house with the bag in one hand and the large Styrofoam cup in the other. Fred was busy on the phone as Don walked up to his desk and set the bag and cup of coffee down. There was one thing never lacking in a big city and the was crimes to solve, as everyone seemed to be busy investigating their latest cases. Don’s head was beginning to pound. He quickly opened the top drawer and took out a bottle, opened it, and popped a few aspirins from the bottle into his mouth. He downed them with a swig of the hot brew. It would be a few minutes before they kicked in. He only hoped no one would talk to him until then.

  But that was not to be, as Fred glanced up once he set the receiver down. He stared at the bags under Don’s bloodshot eyes.

  “So what do you have so far?” Don asked, taking a deep breath as if it would give him some form of resemblance of life.

  “Garbage pickup is tomorrow.”

  Don looked puzzled for a moment. It was like he had a hard time focusing, and then Fred quickly added.

&
nbsp; “VanBuren’s neighborhood, you wanted me to check that out, remember?”

  Don took another sip of the hot brew and then nodded. “Oh yeah, I forgot,” he said, pausing for a moment as he waited for the aspirin and caffeine to kick in. “You were right about the girl coming from old money,” Don said.

  “You read the paper.”

  “Contrary to popular belief around here, I am literate,” Don snapped.

  “How did a reporter get that info, we’re not even sure it’s her in the morgue yet?”

  “My guess is, a beat cop on the take with some reporter,” Don added.

  “Sure hope they got it right, otherwise someone will have to retract the story.”

  That’s the way it was in a city as big as the Capital. Newspapers were always vying for the big story, and sometimes getting it wrong was the price you paid for being the first to break a story. The story about Raven VanBuren’s death made it on the front page above the fold, so she was someone of importance. Along with coming from a prominent Washington, DC, family, she was also the personal assistant of Senator Maxfield, who had been missing for almost a week. When the newspapers got it wrong, though, the retraction was always printed on the bottom corner of page 20.

  “I wonder what she was doing in that part of town that late at night?”

  “Do they have a fix on time of death yet?” Don asked.

  Fred flipped through the sheets in the folder that was on his desk.

  “Near as they can tell, given the damage to the body, she was dead before the car was torched. Coroner put time of death around 12:30 am.”

  “Get a cause yet?”

  “Wasn’t the fire for sure, no soot in the trach. With her face missing, and no gun, coroner ruled out suicide. Definitely a homicide.”

  “Let me know when the complete report comes in,” Don said as he took a bite off the breakfast sandwich and then savored the smell of the coffee for a moment.

  “Should be later this morning. There’s a big push on this from the top. The chief wants to talk to us,” Fred said as he shut the folder and tossed it to Don for a quick look.

  “That’s all I need,” Don said as he gulped his coffee while opening the folder and quickly reading the notes. “How many cases we on already? Now this one pulls rank.”

  “All I’m saying is, the brass wants it put to bed and fast.”

  “Well, they’ll just have to wait in line with all the rest.”

  Don took another gulp of coffee and set it down. He quickly took another bite of his breakfast sandwich as Chief Webber walked up to them. All he did was point to the two of them.

  “You two, in my office, now!”

  The Chief turned and walked back to his office. Fred looked at Don and rolled his eyes.

  Don had seen that look on the Chief’s face before and knew he meant business. It was last year when a senator’s son was convicted of killing his girlfriend. The kid claimed a frame job but all the evidence pointed to him. It turned out that the kid was a serial rapist and in the end was serving hard time for his actions.

  Life was made difficult for Don during the investigation, with everyone wanting him to look the other way. Don got reprimanded for some of his actions during his research of the youth’s criminal activities. But he was proud that he had the tenacity to do the right thing by the victim, because the senator’s son didn’t deserve to be saved from the justice system.

  Don didn’t like people who thought they were above the law and used their influence to stop criminal investigations. It was those instances that caused Don to pursue the case like a pit bull with his teeth clenched fiercely in his person of interest. And, in most cases, it lead to uncovering other crimes the perpetrator got away with. But in the end, in a jury trial, it showed a pattern of behavior that caused jurors to be harsher on the defendant.

  Don always got satisfaction when the defendant refused to take a plea agreement, which meant when they were found guilty of their crime, their punishment was to the full extent of the law—unlike the slap on the hand they would have gotten if they took the plea.

  Chapter 5

  Chief Webber had run the homicide department for then years now. He was five years away from retirement and wasn’t about to alienate anyone, or make waves at this point in his career. He slowly walked around his desk. He didn’t like the role he was asked to play today. Every homicide in the city was important for him to get solved. He usually balked at the higher-ups forcing a case to be placed on the front burner before other older cases. They were all important in being solved, and making sure all the t’s were crossed and the i’s were dotted so that a strong case was handed over to the prosecution.

  When you started dictating the importance of any one case, it tended to make for not-so-happy campers around the station house. Don was one of his best detectives, and his closing rate was right up there with the best of them. He felt confident that if anyone could solve this and put it to bed in a timely fashion, the right man was on the case. And his new partner could learn a few lessons from a pro. But he knew pushing Don and Fred would not make either of them happy.

  The Chief quickly sat down and then just looked up at Don and Fred as they followed him into his office. Don brought in his breakfast sandwich and coffee. He was not going to let them get cold, because he knew once the day started there would be no time to stop and eat. Don just sat down nonchalantly and took a big gulp of the hot liquid.

  “Well, what’s so important?” Don asked, knowing full well what this was all about. He was just toying with the Chief.

  “What do you have?”

  Don and Fred looked at each other a moment as if not knowing what the Chief was talking about.

  The Chief was annoyed with the game they were playing and then snapped. “The VanBuren case!”

  Don quickly cut in, “I just got in.”

  “You must have something.”

  Fred leaned forward and quickly added, “We were going to interview the people where she worked.”

  The Chief glanced at his watch, not aware anyone was paying attention to him. It was almost eight.

  Fred turned to the Chief. “It’s too early.”

  Embarrassment was on the Chief’s face, realizing he had been read. “Then what?” he asked.

  “We can go back to her house and have a second look at things,” Don quickly added.

  “You don’t sound too enthusiastic.” The Chief sighed and then quickly added, “The heat’s on, I need answers.”

  “Who is this girl anyway?” Don asked, curious why the concern. They had other cases just as important as this one.

  Fred quickly piped in. “Yeah, what makes her case more special than the others?”

  The Chief got up and looked outside the office and then pulled the blinds, while Don took the opportunity to take a bite off his sandwich and another gulp of his coffee. Once it was gone, Don threw the cup in the trash while the Chief started pacing his office. He finally stopped and turned to the two.

  “Did you know she was Senator Maxfield’s personal assistant?”

  Don just snickered. “How personal?” he asked.

  He really didn’t mean it. He was just on the defensive because the push was on to solve her murder. Besides, it was none of his business what victims did with their lives to provoke the violent means of their death.

  “It’s not like that.” The Chief quickly cut Don off.

  “So, what makes her so special?”

  “Isn’t he still missing?” Fred quickly added hoping Don would catch on to the importance of this case. Plus, he wanted to give Don some time to regain his composure.

  The Chief just nodded and then picked up a folder and opened it. “I sent a unit to talk to Ms. VanBuren six days ago. Now all of a sudden she turned up dead,” he said, as he snapped the folder shut to show his anger.

  Don’s interest was piqued. “So you think it’s connected?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what you get paid for. Find the co
nnection if there is one,” the Chief snapped and then continued, “Otherwise, get me the guy who did it and pull it off the boards.”

  Don shook his head and then turned to the door while getting up. “We’ll try.”

  The Chief just pointed his finger at Don. “Don’t try. Do it. By Monday I want this case solved.”

  Don just shrugged as he walked out. Fred followed him out of the Chief’s office. He also was not happy with the orders that were given.

  Once out of the office, Don quickly walked over to his desk and took the squad keys out of the top desk drawer. Without saying a word, he motioned for Fred to follow him. This was going to be a long day, and that didn’t make Don happy. It was days like this that Don regretted his choice of career. He hated whenever politicians were involved in a case he was on because there was always an unreasonable push to get the case solved.

  Don walked out of the station house, slamming doors and not speaking to anyone. It was at times like this that people around him avoided him altogether.

  Once in the squad Don pulled out the cassette tape from his jacket pocket. He quickly stuck it in the tape player in the dash and then pressed rewind.

  Fred had had a hard time keeping up with him and was almost fearful he would leave without him. He quickly hopped into the squad and then looked up at Don. “You haven’t listened to it yet?”

  Don just turned to him with a sarcastic grin. “Not you too.”

  Don quickly put the car in gear and sped away from the curb.

  The tape player started playing the first message. “Raven darling, it’s Mom. Please call.”

  Don nodded. He knew how mothers could be. Before he moved back to Maggie’s, he couldn’t go more than two days not talking to her or she would be on the phone trying to find out if he was okay. The second message started playing quickly.