Blessed are the Meek by Kristi Belcamino

Author:Kristi Belcamino
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2014-10-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 30

“I’M GOING TO be late.”

The silence on the end of the line makes my stomach hurt, then I hear Kellogg exhale loudly. “It’s Sunday. Your day off.”

I swallow hard and close my eyes as I say, “I can’t sit home. I just can’t.”

Another long sigh. “Can’t you go be with your family?”

“Good God, no!” I practically shout. “Please. Please let me come in. I’ll work on that story about the dead body they found in the Delta on Friday. Maybe it will end up being Jimmy Hoffa.”

“Fine. Come in,” he says. “I’ll be there, too. I’m overseeing the coverage of . . . you know.”

The arrest. Of my boyfriend. For murder.

I hang up and close my eyes, fighting back the tears.

Of course he’s going to be at the paper. A cop arrested for murder is huge news. And I get it. He’s got a job to do. He can’t ignore crime news because my boyfriend was arrested for murder. My boyfriend arrested for murder. Even thinking those words sends a sob rising in my throat. Die before cry.

I grab my things and head for the San Francisco jail.

THE DEAD MAN was a cop. Or former cop, I should say. He worked at the Rosarito Police Department. That’s how Donovan knew who he was.

Donovan tells me this through the bulletproof glass at the jail. Seeing him in the orange coveralls makes my stomach churn. The last person I visited in jail who wore an orange jumpsuit was a monster—­a serial killer who preyed on children. Now, Donovan is the one on the other side of the glass, wearing the jumpsuit.

“I didn’t do it.”

“I know,” I say. “Who’s the dead cop?”

“Carl Brooke.”

“Wait a minute.” The name is familiar. “Isn’t that one of the guys who served on that task force with you and Flora?”

“Same guy.”

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

“Years ago.”

Brooke had left the department on a mental disability a long time ago, Donovan says.

I point out that two members of that task force are dead within a month—­Carl Brooke and Jim Mueller.

“That is not okay. What if the killer is targeting you?”

“Well, I guess I’d be safe in here.”

I’m glad he has his sense of humor intact, but I don’t think any of this is funny.

“I’m serious.”

“I made some calls after I read that in the paper. Jim Mueller was a suicide. Does that ease your fears?”

I think about that for a minute. Will Flora killed himself, as well. Two guys from the task force committed suicide. That’s not as surprising as ­people might think. From what I’ve heard, cops tend to be more prone to suicide than the average person. It would make sense based on what they deal with every day.

“Maybe we should check on the other members. Are you still in touch with any of them?”

He doesn’t answer my question.

“I left the team when Flora . . . you know.”

Behind him, a guard pokes his head in to give him a warning. Five more minutes. I need to speak fast.

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