Online Affair by Mike Faricy

Author:Mike Faricy [Faricy, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-05-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

I climbed into the car and glanced out the passenger window just to see if Heidi was standing at the front door. She wasn’t. I pulled away and drove over to Randolph Avenue. Two miles later, I took a left onto West Seventh Street making my way to the police station. As I pulled into the parking lot across the street from the station, I had the strong sense that my luck had changed. I literally jogged across the street and into the station.

I recognized one of the officers at the main desk but couldn’t remember his first name. ‘D. Rothschild’ was embroidered in gold thread on his shirt. “Good afternoon. How can I help you?”

“Hi, Officer Rothschild. It’s nice to see you again. My name is Dev Haskell. I’m here to see Lieutenant LaZelle. He’s expecting me.”

“If you’ll take a seat, I’ll give him a call and let him know you’re here.”

As I settled onto one of the black plastic chairs in the lobby, I heard him say, “Yeah, Lieutenant, there’s a gentleman down here by the name of Dev Haskell, and—” but I couldn’t hear the rest. Five minutes later, the security door opened, and an officer called, “Haskell, Dev Haskell.”

“Here,” I replied and hurried over.

Some guy a few seats away swore under his breath and said, “How come that loser gets his dumb ass in there before us?”

“Shhh, hush now, Percy,” a woman replied.

“Haskell?” the officer asked as I approached.

“Yeah, Lieutenant LaZelle is expecting me.”

“They’re all up in a conference room. I’ll escort you up to the meeting,” the officer said. He closed the security door behind us, and we walked down the hall to the elevators. As we approached, the doors on one of the elevators opened. Two officers escorted a man in an orange jumpsuit out of the elevator. He had a chain wrapped around his waist, and his handcuffs were attached to the chain. He wore ankle cuffs and had to take short steps. Once they passed, we stepped onto the elevator, and the officer pressed the button for the third floor. We stepped off and went in the opposite direction from the Homicide Department.

We walked halfway down the hall, and the officer stopped. “This is it here,” he said as he knocked on the door and opened it. We stepped into a room with a large table and a whiteboard attached to the back wall. A large flat screen was on the opposite wall. There were seven people seated around the table, five men and two women. One of the men was Aaron and another was Detective Rudy Martenez.

Aaron said, “This is the private investigator I was telling you about, Dev Haskell. Dev, grab a seat.” He nodded at my fly, I touched it, and quickly zipped it up as he pointed toward the empty chair between him and Martenez. No one else looked familiar. Aaron went around the table, introducing everyone. Most of their names went in one ear and out the other, but one of them, a guy with a crew cut named Mahony, was with the FBI.

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