The O'Connells Box Set

Chapter 26

He took in Manny, who was standing just outside the open door to Reine’s basement suite, as he pulled up and parked on the street. The door was wide open, and Harold had just walked through it. He knew Therese was already inside.

There were a lot of cars in front of the rundown rental, and with two cop cars added to the mix, it was only reasonable that people were watching from the suite above Reine’s. It was quite the show, a situation he walked into far too often.

The whispers, the watching. God damn, he hated it.

He turned off his car, feeling the weight of his office and the daggers Suzanne had glared at him. All he’d said to her when she walked into his station was “Stay out of it.” He wasn’t a monster, but he didn’t like his integrity being questioned.

His phone was ringing, and he pressed answer. “O’Connell,” he snapped, closing the door of his car and stepping onto the dry brown grass.

“I just got a very angry call from our sister,” Karen said. “Well, actually, Jack did, because I was in a meeting. He had to pull me out because Suzanne was demanding your head on a platter. I’ve never heard her so angry, Marcus. What the hell is going on, and why is Reine in jail?”

He really didn’t want to deal with another angry sister right now. “It’s an active investigation, Karen, so this isn’t the time to stick your nose into this.”

“Oh, cut the crap, Marcus. Did you seriously arrest Reine? What is this about her being accused of theft? Suzanne said she was accused of stealing jewelry. Did she really?”

He shook his head. Everything about this situation had him on edge, and having his sisters questioning him was really beginning to piss him off. “She’ll be charged with felony theft along with exploitation of a vulnerable person, so this is damn serious. Her parole officer is here already, and her place is being searched now. I don’t understand why she did it. Was it to get Eva back? She may not have been a criminal before she went into prison, but she sure is now. Look, I’ve got to go.”

“No, Marcus, wait. You’re really throwing the book at her? What has the DA said?”

He didn’t want to do this with Karen. “Do you not understand the part about us still investigating? As soon as we locate the stolen jewelry, the DA can weigh in, but I guarantee you my office will not be lenient, and the DA certainly won’t, especially for a repeat offender. There’s no deal. She’ll get the maximum plus whatever else they decide to throw at her. When she gets out next time, I won’t have to worry about her showing up at the door, because Eva will be in her twenties and not a little girl anymore, with a life of her own, and Reine will be an old woman…”

At first, there was silence on the other end. “Did Reine confess?” Karen finally said. “Did you find the jewelry?”

“Are you asking as her lawyer or my sister?”

She hissed, likely from how sharply it had come out.

He was now two steps from Manny, who was standing outside the door, appearing both indignant and furious. Every time he looked at the man only reinforced how much he really disliked him.

“You know what, Marcus?” Karen said. “There’s a side of you I don’t like, and this is it. I remember once upon a time, a young, stupid Marcus O’Connell stole and got into all kinds of trouble, yet here you are now, unscathed, and with a badge. Amazing, once the shoe is on the other foot…”

He could feel her nastiness coming out, and he stopped walking, turning away from Manny. “Okay, I think we’re done,” he said, cutting his sister off. He actually pressed the end button and hung up before she could add one more dig at his character. This wasn’t about him. This was about a woman who’d been given a chance and blown it.

Marcus shoved his phone in his pocket. His empathy for a woman who’d been through hell only added to the fury burning inside him. For liars, he wasn’t prepared to be lenient, but maybe because this was Eva’s mother, he was struggling with a dark moodiness, furious at how it seemed everyone was trying to make him the bad guy.

He made himself turn around and take another step until he was in front of Manny.

“Well, how about I say I told you so?” was the first thing out of Manny’s mouth.

Marcus took in his dingy dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and what looked like the same brown pants he always wore. He had to remind himself that his mood wasn’t winning him any points today, but he took another second to stare down at the man and his pale face, the heavy bags under eyes that stared back at him with a kind of self-righteousness.

“Sure, you could do that,” Marcus said, “or maybe you could explain what happened to Reine’s face, the bruising from the fist that landed there.” He settled his stance, his hands on his duty belt.

The man didn’t even flinch. “I don’t know, Sheriff. Maybe she got herself into a situation. Wouldn’t be surprised if some john rolled her.”

Marcus couldn’t believe the man had said it with such a straight face. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, knowing that if it were anyone else, another ex-con instead of Reine, he’d likely have believed him.

He took in the open door, hearing the voices and rustling inside. If he stood there and listened to the piece of s**t in front of him, nothing good would come out of his mouth in response. His sound reasoning, which was hanging on by a thread, would be gone. So he made himself walk into the basement suite, seeing groceries on the counter, cans of food, cheese, lettuce, sandwich meat, and milk that Harold had pulled from the tiny fridge. His sister really had stepped up, and maybe it was the guilt that was making him so angry. He should have been the one to show up with groceries.

The cupboards were open, the drawers, and a box of cereal had been dumped out in a large plastic bowl. A cell phone was next to it in a plastic bag. Harold had pulled the mini fridge away from the wall and was looking behind it.

Marcus strode over to him. “Anything?”

Harold only shook his head. “Nothing. Therese has gone through every nook in the bathroom, the bedroom…”

Marcus took in the sofa cushions, which had been unzipped and the foam pulled out.

“I hate to say this, but it’s not here,” Harold said. “Check the pawn shops. This happened yesterday, so maybe there’s some footage. But nothing here.” He stood up and opened the carton of eggs, then put them back in the emptied fridge.

Marcus gestured to the small suite, trying to piece it together, the timing, given when his family had shown up. Then there was her parole officer. “Manny, get in here,” he called out. “What time did you show up here yesterday?”

He knew Harold was watching the man too as he stepped inside.

“Sheriff, nothing is here,” said Therese, who stepped out of the tiny bedroom in her brown deputy uniform, her dark hair cut short,. He didn’t miss the way she stared over at Manny, saying nothing but not pulling any punches in the disgust she leveled his way.

Marcus took in the small suite. There weren’t many places to hide something. “Head over to the Hirsts’, and this time see if you can get a photo of the jewelry Reine took,” he said to Therese. “I want statements, too. Don’t miss anything. I want a written formal statement from the daughter, and talk to the mother, too, if you can.”

“You mean the mother with dementia?”

Marcus pulled in a breath. “Yeah.”

Therese made a face, then said, “Yes, Sheriff,” as she started to the door. Manny was forced to step out of her way, but as he let his gaze flicker over her and down, Marcus knew there could be a problem there.

Manny was looking out the door, evidently still watching Therese, when Marcus said, “Manny, I asked you about yesterday. You showed up here at what time?”

The man hesitated, then dragged his gaze over to Marcus. He wondered if he was trying to piece together a story, because he gave nothing away in his expression. “An after-work visit, not long after she got home, likely five thirtyish, sixish. Don’t know the exact time, but there was plenty of time for her to stash or pawn what she lifted. You know well, Sheriff, that if it’s not here, that doesn’t mean she didn’t take it. She could’ve already pawned it off or sold it on the streets.”

Marcus pulled in a breath. A hundred different scenarios could have happened. If she was smart, she wouldn’t have brought the stolen jewels back here anyway. She could have hidden them anywhere. He didn’t believe Reine was stupid by any means. He looked down to Harold, who hadn’t pulled his gaze from Manny.

“There’re a couple of pawn shops not far from here,” Harold said in a low voice as he turned from the man. “I’ll take a ride over.”

Marcus nodded, then glanced around at the suite that had been taken apart and the food he knew his sister had bought. “Let me know what you find out,” he said.

Harold seemed to hesitate, then glanced back over to Manny, that heavy all-cop gaze he had when he was figuring out a suspect.

“I’ll close up here,” Marcus said, knowing Harold understood he wasn’t done.

“What a waste,” Manny said. “Well, if it’s all the same to you, Sheriff, I have a full caseload. I’ll notify the warden and the parole board…”

“Just a minute, Manny. I want a word with you.” Marcus took a step, and Harold evidently took that as his cue, as he started walking to the door, moving past Manny in the cramped entryway.

Marcus moved the tiny fridge back against the wall and pulled it open to stuff in the bag of lettuce, cheese, sandwich meat, and milk. He heard Manny reach for a paper bag folded on the counter, and he started tucking the unopened groceries, cans, box of granola bars, cereal, pasta, and jars of sauce into it.

“What are you doing?” Marcus said.

Manny tossed him an odd glance over his shoulder. “She has no use for these groceries.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not helping yourself to them. I want to talk to you about your visit to Reine. What exactly went on here, and how was it that when I showed up after with my family, this place had been torn apart and she appeared as if she’d just been hit? You think I don’t know you hit her? Punching a woman, is that what you did? You get off on that, Manny?”

The man froze before tucking the spaghetti sauce into the bag as if he had no intention of listening to Marcus. Then he slowly turned, and the way his brow knit and his eyes darkened, Marcus could already feel the spin he was planning.

“I was doing my job, Sheriff,” he said. “If I recall, you’re the one who paid me a visit and brought me up to speed on the shenanigans of my parolee. How I handle my parolees is not your concern or your business.”

Marcus wondered whether the rough laugh he let rumble under his breath was enough of a warning that he wasn’t in the mood for games. “You hitting a woman is my business.”

“Who said I hit her?” Manny was loud and actually lifted his hands up rather dramatically. “Already told you it was likely some john.”

“Really, so was this before or after you arrived?”

The man just stared at him and pulled in a breath, thinking. He let the seconds tick.

“I don’t recall,” Manny said. “You know, the number of times I see this…”

“And you don’t report it? Now, why don’t I believe that?”

The parole officer only shook his head, then reached for the bag of groceries. The prick was actually going to walk out the door with them!

Marcus flicked his hand to him. “Put it down. You’re not taking that. Word of advice, Manny. If I ever hear of you putting your hands on another woman, I will make your life a living hell. You seem to think that because Reine is in the trouble she is, with a record and the label of ex-con, you can do whatever you want to her, terrorize her, brutalize her, and she has to take it. But let me be clear: I will break you, and then I will take apart your life, and my deputies will spend their days talking to every single parolee you have and have ever had, every past relationship you’ve been in. I will uncover every piece of dirt on you, and I will bury you. Do we understand each other?”

As Manny put the paper bag of groceries down and stepped back and over to the door, Marcus tracked his every move. The man said nothing, then stopped in the open doorway and looked back to him.

“You know, Sheriff, you don’t get it. You have no idea what it’s like to work with ex-cons who are always up to no good, spinning some lie, some story. You know that convict who got out of jail is going to hurt someone, or steal from someone, or do something bad, and then the spotlight will be shining down on me, the parole officer, with hard questions about why I didn’t figure out and catch him or stop him. She’s just one more who’s lost her rights. Don’t forget how the law works, Sheriff. She’s an ex-con. You want to know her record from prison, the fights she was in or started, or the trouble she caused?”

Marcus just took in the man he couldn’t believe actually served as a gateway for those getting a chance at a new life. “Don’t spin it, Manny, not with me. I want your notes about your visit to Reine’s sent over to my office: the time you arrived, how long you were here, and how you tore her place apart. You find anything? I want it all, what you saw, what she said, what you did. You’d better have the times down, too. Are we clear?”

Manny shook his head, standing in the doorway. Even from his profile, Marcus could see the face he made. “Sounds to me like you’re more interested in protecting a criminal than an old woman with dementia. Wonder what folks would think if word got out in the community about where the sheriff’s priorities really lie. You forget the voting population are the older generation who actually own something.” Then Manny walked out of the suite.

“f*****g asshole,” Marcus spat out under his breath as he listened to the gravel crunching, knowing that prick of a parole officer was dirty, underhanded, and a snake.

Manny Meskill had never been on his radar before, but Marcus realized he needed to be more careful in what he said to him, in how he looked into his personal and private business. The parole officer wasn’t a stupid man, and if Marcus wasn’t careful, he could end up on the defensive. A lie could easily be spun, and then Manny Meskill could very well become untouchable.