Proof of Life by Jance J. A

Author:Jance, J. A. [Jance, J. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Crime, thriller, Suspense, Contemporary
Amazon: B01MSY9DBM
Goodreads: 34118474
Publisher: William Morrow
Published: 2017-09-05T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

ONCE OFF THE PHONE WITH JOHN MADSEN, I DIDN’T IMMEDIATELY try dialing any of the other numbers. Instead, I sat there puzzling over the crooked-cop comment. Truth be told, Seattle PD has had its share of crooked cops—my first partner in Homicide, Rory “Mac” McPherson, being a prime case in point. His malfeasance hadn’t come to light until decades after the fact, and that revelation had been accompanied by especially dire consequences for any number of people.

What if this was the same thing? Max had made no secret of the fact that he was writing a book that would most likely deal with some aspects of the Marcia Kelsey homicide. If a crooked cop had been lurking in the shadows back then, he might still be there, hiding in plain sight and worried about being thrust into the light of day.

Still, besides Kramer and me, what other cops had been involved in the case? That one left me stumped. The two who immediately came to mind were our sergeant in Homicide at the time, Watty Watkins, along with the guy running the unit, Captain Lawrence Powell. As far as I knew, both of those guys—now long retired—were as honest as the day is long.

Of course, once Erin’s sister, Jennifer Lafflyn, had fallen to her death off the Magnolia Bridge, that incident had sparked another whole line of investigation. Since I had been directly involved in the confrontation, Kramer and I had both been excluded from that aspect of the investigation. Was Jennifer’s death where the crooked-cop angle came from? Much as I didn’t want to, I resigned myself to the distinct possibility of having to hold my nose and reach out to Paul Kramer to see if he could shed any light on the subject.

Right then, what would have helped the most would have been having access to the murder books on either one of those two cases—Marcia Kelsey’s and Jennifer Lafflyn’s. Had Ross Connors still been alive, he would have waved his magic wand and access would have been a done deal. But then again, so could someone else—another former partner of mine, Seattle PD’s current assistant chief of police, Ron Peters.

We hadn’t been partners for very long when, in the course of a high-speed chase, the van in which Ron had been riding had plunged off an unfinished off-ramp on I-90. The accident had left Ron a paraplegic. He had spent months in recovery, first in the hospital and later in rehab. It was no accident that one of his many nurses was now his wife, Amy. Come to think of it, maybe what was going on between Harry I. Ball and Margie Herndon wasn’t all that surprising, either.

But back to Amy Peters. Not only is she Ron’s wife, but she’s also the mother of my namesake, Jared Beaumont Peters.

When I dialed their home number, Amy answered the phone. “Hang on,” she said. “Let me go find him. He and Jared are having a father-and-son chat.”

That sounded ominous, but Jared’s a little kid.

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