“Do you know who the father was?”
“Pam told me it was mine. She said she hadn’t slept with Brandon in a few months. Honestly, it didn’t matter to me who the father was. Pam and I were going to raise the baby together. It was mine regardless of some stupid test.”
“Mr. Burk, before Mrs. DeFranco told her husband about the affair, do you have any idea what kind of relationship they had?”
“I don’t know, man. I only know what Pam told me. Brandon worked all the time. She said he was married to his work; he didn’t want a wife let alone a child. She wasn’t happy. I seemed to make her happy.”
“Mr. Burk, did Mrs. DeFranco ever mention a Samantha Brown?”
“Pfft, yeah. I think she’s the reason Pam and I got together in the first place. She suspected Brandon was having an affair with her but she could never prove it.”
“Did you ever get the impression that Mr. and Mrs. DeFranco’s marriage was in a volatile state?”
Damian’s reaction to the question was a mix between a sigh and a laugh. “Pam was sleeping with me and Brandon was more than likely sleeping with Sam. What do you think?”
The reality of his answer struck Martinez to the core. He knew it was a stupid question, but one that had to be asked. “Mr. Burk, I do appreciate your time and your candidness. If I have any other questions, do you mind if I reach you at this number?”
“Look, man, I called you for Pam. I’ve told you everything I know. Just find the asshole responsible for this.”
“Thank you, Mr. Burk. You have -”
Martinez looked at the receiver of his phone after he heard the click on the opposite end and took a breath. He hung up the phone and crosschecked the number on the caller ID to the number on Pam’s phone records. It was confirmed to be Damian Burk. That didn’t help him in the least to find out the mystery number that texted Pam’s phone. He went back to the Internet to find out a little more about Marshal Media Corporation. After clicking on a few links he found what he was looking for.
Once again he picked up the receiver and dialed another number. After selecting a couple prompts, he finally reached a human. “Yes, hello. This is Detective Angel Martinez with the Silverton Police Department. I need to speak with Mr. Jim West, please.”
“What’s this regarding?”
“I’m afraid it’s a personal matter.”
“One moment please.” Once the operator put him on hold, he heard a recording for the end of the summer festivities in down town Silverton.
Jim West answered on the opposite end. “Detective Martinez, good morning! What can I do for you this fine day?”
“Hello, Mr. West. I was hoping you could answer some questions for me regarding my investigation into the death of Pamela DeFranco.”
“Well, Detective, I’ve been expecting a call from you for some time. You can ask as many questions as you like, however, I’m afraid each and every answer of mine will be to refer you to our legal department.”
“You mean to tell me you refuse to answer some simple questions regarding policy at the Silverton Tribune?”
Jim laughed. “I’m not refusing to answer anything, Detective. I am simply referring you to our legal department.”
Becoming frustrated, Martinez asked, “So let me get this straight, you’re a ‘journalist’; the first ones to cry you want to get to the truth of matters and blast them into the world for everyone to read about. And when it comes down to it, when it affects you, you decide to run from facts? You have no problem defaming SPD and any other public servant, but you haven’t even written a single thing regarding this investigation or Mr. DeFranco’s possible involvement. Do you really want to risk the integrity of your newspaper by not cooperating?”
Jim confidently replied, “Ah, and that is where you are mistaken. I believe we’re a lot more alike than you wish to admit. In our work, we both get to the truth of certain matters following basic Constitutional principals. And that is the epitome of integrity. We also protect our own. I see no need to inform the public, yet, of anything regarding this investigation. And as far as I’m concerned, Brandon has given you a solid alibi and you have nothing showing he was involved. If you want to try and ruin the name of one of my top journalists, you’re certainly not going to get any help from me if I’m not legally obliged. You do your job, I’ll do mine. Good day, Detective.”
His frustration turned to anger as he heard the headset of the phone clangor on the other end. Hanging up his receiver, he ran his fingers through his cropped hair and took a deep breath before rushing to draft a warrant aimed at the Silverton Tribune. With the information he had, the judge was sure to sign it and he vowed to personally deliver it to Jim West himself.
Warrant in hand, he made his way downstairs to the station. Officer Lucas was bringing a drug suspect in for processing, Martinez interrupting his path. “Hey, Lucas, you gotta minute?”
Lucas ordered his handcuffed suspect to the bench beside them. “Don’t go anywhere.” He winked sarcastically. Walking over to Martinez, he asked, “What’s up?”
He lifted his chiseled chin questionably. “You find out anything about our mystery Buick down at the docks or heard anything from Border Patrol?”
Lucas pursed his lips in a disappointing manner and shook his head. “Dead end. Border Patrol was in the middle of their shift change, so nothin’ there. And the Buick belongs to a homeless guy. Parks down there some nights and moves his car periodically so we leave him alone. Even if he did see something, he ain’t talking.”
Patting him on the shoulder, he continued towards the Judge’s chambers. “All right, man. Thanks.”
China had a long day at court and took a late
