Steele rubbed his eyes and straightened. “Why are you so cheery?”
Jackson took the third chair, sat back and worked a toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. “Blighe and I interviewed Michael Trant last night.”
“Do tell.” Zerr rolled his head and his neck cracked.
“It took the nurses two days to get him down off all the heroin Toscana injected. He’ll be in hospital for another month while they deal with the addiction.” Jackson spun the toothpick end-over-end in his mouth. “Trant may have overdosed from the heroin, but amazingly he remembered at lot of what Toscana said to Brad.”
“Did he hear why Toscana was killing?” Zerr asked.
“Yup. Her sister was abducted, raped and killed twenty-some years ago. The killer wasn’t caught until a third kidnapping but was released on bail. Then abducted another girl and was killed by cops.”
“Was she telling the truth?” Steele asked.
Jackson stared at the remains of his toothpick, tossed it in the garbage and pulled out a fresh one. “I checked, and her story is accurate.”
“On one hand, I get that,” Zerr said. “But on the other hand, it’s a tad extreme.”
Jackson stared at Brad for a moment. “Toscana felt she was denied revenge and that the court system sucked. I’m sure we’ll find she wasn’t the person she presented.”
“What did she want with the heroin?” Steele asked.
“Trant thought she only wanted to ensure it never hit the street and would have used some of it on him, and possibly Brad. But I think it was a red herring. She tried to point us in the direction of the drug gangs. She might have hoped we’d start a war against the Hells Angels and the Russian mob. They’d kill each other, we’d shoot a few, arrest others. We’d be doing her dirty work for her.”
“Dang,” Steele said. “That might have worked.” He glanced at Zerr. “We were planning to pay a visit to the Hells Angels President Jeromy Pickens. It’s something he’d mastermind.”
“What does Blighe think?” Zerr asked. “Is she taking the word of a junkie? Michael Trant isn’t a reliable witness.”
“Blighe is waiting to hear Brad’s side of things,” Jackson said. “But that’s not going to be an issue. Sturgeon has his team sifting through everything in Toscana’s apartment. She has a wall covered in pictures and information on all the victims, including Brad. Vinnie Bevan died. So even in death Toscana adds to her total.”
“Un-fucking believable.” Steele sat back in his chair, yawned, and stretched his legs. “I’ll feel better when the evidence against Toscana is added up.”
“Legally, Brad will be cleared,” Jackson said.
Zerr’s head swung to Jackson. “What does that mean?”
Jackson gnawed on his toothpick before he answered. “He’s innocent and won’t be charged with a darn thing. He still must deal with Deputy Chief Archer. I’m not sure how he will handle Brad disappearing. Then there’re our guys.”
“What do you mean by that?” Steele asked.
“There are going to be cops who will believe Brad is capable of being a vigilante.”
“That’s bullshit,” Steele shouted.
Jackson held up a hand. “Keep it down. I’m not saying this is right, but there’s already been chatter. This last year, he’s been through a lot. He’s seen as a renegade. He plays by his own rules. Old-school cops don’t like that.”
“He gets results the gray-haired cops don’t,” Zerr said.
Jackson sighed. “You don’t have to convince me. When he comes back to work, he’s going to be on his own. I don’t think Archer could even order anyone to work with him.”
“Screw it,” Steele said. “Promote me. I’d work with him in a heartbeat.”
“Ditto,” Zerr said.
Jackson laughed and choked on a piece of a toothpick. “Be careful what you ask for, boys.”
Zerr admired how Jackson stuck by Brad despite the overwhelming evidence. His last comment had Zerr thinking about life after TSU. Maybe it was time to think of another career path. TSU was great, but not suitable for family life.
He grinned. He and Annie hadn’t even discussed this, yet he knew that was where they were heading. They should do it now, while Brad was incapacitated. The thought brought a smile. He knew Brad would give him a hard time, but he also knew Brad was all for them.
Getting something past Brad was difficult, but this would be fun.
Brad made some rasping sounds. He’d been doing that regularly since they took the tube out of his throat last night. The nurses had been keeping him sedated though, and the closest to words was the rasping. Then words formed. “Wa … ta. Wa … ta.”
Jackson bounced out of his seat and over to Brad’s side. He grabbed the remote and raised the head of the bed. Brad leaned toward Jackson. “Wa … ta.”
“Yup. Got it.” Jackson took the Styrofoam cup off the night table and slid the straw into the side of Brad’s mouth. Despite the severe beating, an orthodontist had been able to repair Brad’s jaw without needing to wire it shut. However, movement was minimal.
Water dribbled out of the corner of his mouth and onto his gown. Brad didn’t care. He drank thirstily.
Jackson pulled the cup away. “That’s enough for now. Let’s see if the water bubbles come out of the new holes in your body.”
Brad growled. “A … ss … hat.”
Brad woke with a start. His eyes darted around the strange room. The ugly paint wasn’t from his house. His face throbbed, and each breath brought the odor of plastic. He tried to sit up but was too weak. At the end of the bed, Zerr and Steele slept in chairs. The third chair was vacant.
A tray sat on the portable table. Chicken noodle soup mixed with the plastic odor from the oxygen mask. The combination churned his stomach.
Bits and pieces of conversation came back. Jackson talking about Michael giving a statement. He was alive. Thank God. Toscana had been injecting heroin into Michael with abandon. Either Michael had a high tolerance, or the stuff wasn’t that pure.
