Raven: A political thriller (3 page)

The far wall was covered with door mirrors the full expanse of the
room that Don guessed hid closets. The California king-size bed filled most of
the inside wall. A large dresser sat on the right wall. The distinct scent of
cinnamon hanging in the air reminded Don of his mother’s homemade apple pie in
the fall. And at the far end was a door that led to a bathroom with a steam
shower that Don could only dream of ever having.

Don walked over to the dresser and glanced at the tray of lipstick
tubes and perfumes. He picked up a few tubes. They all appeared pastel or pale
in color, none of the bright red that was on the glass in the kitchen.

“Interesting,” was all Don mustered up to say as Fred sniffed the
perfume bottles.

“She has expensive taste,” Don said, looking at his watch. “Shit we’re
back on duty in three hours. I got to get some sleep.”

Don didn’t really feel up to going through the bedroom thoroughly. He
planned to come back later once it was confirmed that it was Raven VanBuren in
the burnt-out Mustang. He walked out of the bedroom down the hall to the
stairs. Once he was back in the living room he walked up to the portrait and
stared at it again for the longest time. It was hard for him to remember the
vision of her slumped over the steering wheel no longer having a face, given
how beautiful she once was. What could she have possibly have done to warrant
such a violent end?

Fred walked up behind Don and poked him in the ribs, startling Don for
a moment.

“You ready to go?” Fred asked.

“In a minute.”

“She’s dead, remember?”

Don just shrugged. “What a waste!”

Don had thought back to all the girls he’d known through the years.
None of them came close to the vision he was looking at in front of him. He
couldn’t remember ever being angry enough with any one of the women he dated to
do what someone did to Raven that night. Even Jackie cheating on him like she
did wasn’t cause for murder. He just cut his losses and moved back in with his
mother.

But through the years, he had seen enough senseless killing where
nothing made sense. In the heat of an argument the most docile of men could do
horrendous deeds. He once saw a man who was a pillar of his church but who, in
the heat of an argument with his wife of twenty-five years, killed her because
of a burnt steak. He then, to hide his deed, proceeded to dismember her and
throw her remains out with yesterday’s garbage. To hide the act from his grown
children, he came up with a lie that she ran off with some man she met on the
Internet. It all unraveled when body parts started turning up, and in his haste
to clean things up, he’d forgotten to remove a ring he gave her on their
twentieth anniversary.

He’d had the diamond registered and it was tied back
to him. Once the house was investigated they sprayed Luminol on the walls. It
lit up like a candle. Because of a burnt steak, he was spending the rest of his
life in prison.

Chapter 4

The forty-five minutes of shut-eye that Don finally snatched once he
got home was not enough to revive his body. His consciousness couldn’t get
beyond the first stages of sleep because of visions of Raven VanBuren both in
life and in death. She haunted his very existence and he couldn’t shake her
image, even in sleep.

Don remembered his college days when he’d attended all-night parties
or, on rare occasions, the all-night study group that his friends put together
when a major test was scheduled unexpectedly. They never seemed to take as much
of a toll on his body as he felt that morning. He even had trouble focusing on
the print in the newspaper as his mother, Maggie, walked in from the pantry
with the measuring cup of dog food in her hand.

Maggie was young-looking for fifty-two. Even though it was early, she
was fully dressed, with makeup flawlessly put on and not a hair out of place.
Maggie liked to look her best even if she had no place to go for the day. Since
Don’s father passed away a few years back, she had many suitors who called but
none that ever seemed to interest her. She had a busy social life, and caring
for another man wasn’t in the cards for her. That’s why she really wasn’t that
happy when Don moved back home. She made it clear this was only temporary until
he found something permanent. It was a situation they both made the best of.

Maggie walked past Don and patted him on the shoulder and then walked
over to Bear’s food dish and filled it with dog food. She set the measuring cup
on the counter and then bent down and gave Bear a big hug before giving him the
command that it was okay to eat. She especially liked the secure feeling she
had, knowing Bear would protect her day or night, and would miss him once Don
moved out. She was hoping when that time came, Bear would be a permanent
fixture in her house—as Don’s long hours didn’t leave much time for the care of
a canine, much less a female partner.

“You feed him first,” Don said, looking up at her.

“He wasn’t carousing all night,” Maggie said with a stern look on her
face and then quickly added, “Besides, you aren’t helpless.”

Don got up and walked over to the counter and then took a cup off the
rack and poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Come on ma, not this early,” Don begged.

“I’m sure Jackie didn’t feed you breakfast every morning.”

Don laughed. He was lucky if she was ever awake when he left in the
morning. He wondered how she could keep up the stamina. He generally came home
well after midnight. She had to have had a revolving door with the men who came
to the apartment while he was working. He never let on to Maggie the true
nature of his parting with Jackie. It technically was his fault, because if he
had been home more maybe she wouldn’t have sought out the company of other men.
But that was neither here nor there. His job required long hours, and crime
never stopped in a city that seemed never to sleep. Washington, DC, was like
the Big Apple, but then all big cities were like that. It’s just the Big Apple
touted that in their tourist ads.

Don turned to Maggie. “You leave Jackie out of this.”

“She wanted a commitment, was that so difficult?”

Don laughed, wondering whom she wanted the commitment from. He didn’t
want to burst his mother’s bubble and clue her in that Jackie was seeing other
men while she was with him. Don just shook his head and took the brunt of his
mother’s criticism.

“You know the kind of life I live?”

Maggie’s jaw muscles tensed. It always angered her when Don used his
father for an excuse because of his failed relationships. All she did was point
an accusing finger at him.

“Your father was a cop for thirty years. He provided us with a home,
food on the table,” she said and then started to choke up. “It was a good
life.”

It may have been a good life, but she would have been willing to give
up a lot of things to have him home more often. Especially raising three boys.
They needed their father at home, not chasing criminals around a city that
seemed never to really care about the lives of the men who serviced it.

“We also had a picture on the mantel to remind us what he looked
like.”

“Your father was a good man. He did his best.”

Don quickly got up. He didn’t like arguing with his mother, and
certainly not about his father. In all actuality, he’d loved his father. He was
a hard-working cop killed in the line of duty. It was hard on the family once
he was gone, but his anger over his not being around during his youth always
seemed to come up in his arguments with his mother. He regretted now not being
able to let that go. All he could do was shake his head and turn to Maggie.

“Ma, I’m not saying he wasn’t. It’s not easy being a cop and having a
life too.”

Maggie was tired of waiting for grandchildren. All she could muster up
was to turn and stare at Don. None of her sons were married. One lived out on
the West Coast and worked for one of the largest tech firms out there. He lived
the footloose and fancy-free life of a bachelor and wasn’t about to give that
up any time soon. The other was a stockbroker in the Big Apple with a penthouse
apartment who only dated models, so she never felt like offspring were in the
picture for him either. Her only hopes for grandchildren were from Don, but,
given his history of failed relationships, she was almost to the point of
giving up all hopes of ever hearing the pitter-patter of little feet in his
future.

“You didn’t give it a chance. You never do. It was a place to hang
your hat and nothing more. What can you expect from any respectable woman?”

Don just got up. It was useless to argue with his mother. He walked
over to his suit jacket on the hanger near the door. He quickly put it on and
took the keys off the key rack and then finally turned to his mother.

“I’ll stop off and get breakfast on my way in,” he said as he put his
jacket on. “You have a nice day, Ma.”

Don turned and glanced at Maggie. The look on her face was that of
sadness. He quickly walked over, bent down, and kissed her on the cheek. Don
knew what she wanted and, as much as he would like to oblige her, he just
hadn’t found the right woman to settle down with yet. The women nowadays wanted
more from a relationship than two ships passing in the night. He liked his job
and wasn’t about to give it up at this point in his life. Don glanced down at
the dog sitting at the empty food dish as if expecting more. The canine just
stared up at Don and bared his teeth. The dog was actually Jackie’s, but in the
end he was too much to care for. So, when she kicked Don out, she made sure
Bear, her once faithful Rottweiler, went with him.

Don whispered in Maggie’s ear, “I’m sorry you thought Jackie was the
one.”

Don shook his head and then turned and walked out. He would have loved
to take his coffee with him in a travel mug, but after his conversation with
Maggie, taking coffee with him was the last thing on his mind. It was going to
be a long drive to the station house. His only alternative was a drive-thru.

When he finally reached the drive-thru of the first fast-food joint he
saw, he ordered a large black coffee and two breakfast sandwiches to go. The
large coffee would be the only thing he had going for him to make sure he would
make it through the day. The breakfast sandwiches would be enough to stop the
growling in his stomach because he hadn’t had food since early yesterday
afternoon. This was not going to be an easy day for him, and he only hoped
there were no new homicides to investigate.

Don walked into the station house with the bag in one hand and the
large Styrofoam cup in the other. Fred was busy on the phone as Don walked up
to his desk and set the bag and cup of coffee down. There was one thing never
lacking in a big city and the was crimes to solve, as everyone seemed to be
busy investigating their latest cases. Don’s head was beginning to pound. He
quickly opened the top drawer and took out a bottle, opened it, and popped a
few aspirins from the bottle into his mouth. He downed them with a swig of the
hot brew. It would be a few minutes before they kicked in. He only hoped no one
would talk to him until then.

But that was not to be, as Fred glanced up once he set the receiver
down. He stared at the bags under Don’s bloodshot eyes.

“So what do you have so far?” Don asked, taking a deep breath as if it
would give him some form of resemblance of life.

“Garbage pickup is tomorrow.”

Don looked puzzled for a moment. It was like he had a hard time
focusing, and then Fred quickly added.

“VanBuren’s neighborhood, you wanted me to check that out, remember?”

Don took another sip of the hot brew and then nodded. “Oh yeah, I
forgot,” he said, pausing for a moment as he waited for the aspirin and
caffeine to kick in. “You were right about the girl coming from old money,” Don
said.

“You read the paper.”

“Contrary to popular belief around here, I am literate,” Don snapped.

“How did a reporter get that info, we’re not even sure it’s her in the
morgue yet?”

“My guess is, a beat cop on the take with some reporter,” Don added.

“Sure hope they got it right, otherwise someone will have to retract
the story.”

That’s the way it was in a city as big as the Capital. Newspapers were
always vying for the big story, and sometimes getting it wrong was the price
you paid for being the first to break a story. The story about Raven VanBuren’s
death made it on the front page above the fold, so she was someone of
importance. Along with coming from a prominent Washington, DC, family, she was
also the personal assistant of Senator Maxfield, who had been missing for
almost a week. When the newspapers got it wrong, though, the retraction was
always printed on the bottom corner of page 20.

“I wonder what she was doing in that part of town that late at night?”

“Do they have a fix on time of death yet?” Don asked.

Fred flipped through the sheets in the folder that was on his desk.

“Near as they can tell, given the damage to the body, she was dead
before the car was torched. Coroner put time of death around 12:30 am.”

“Get a cause yet?”

“Wasn’t the fire for sure, no soot in the trach. With her face
missing, and no gun, coroner ruled out suicide. Definitely a homicide.”

“Let me know when the complete report comes in,” Don said as he took a
bite off the breakfast sandwich and then savored the smell of the coffee for a
moment.

“Should be later this morning. There’s a big push on this from the
top. The chief wants to talk to us,” Fred said as he shut the folder and tossed
it to Don for a quick look.

“That’s all I need,” Don said as he gulped his coffee while opening
the folder and quickly reading the notes. “How many cases we on already? Now
this one pulls rank.”

“All I’m saying is, the brass wants it put to bed
and fast.”

“Well, they’ll just have to wait in line with all the rest.”

Don took another gulp of coffee and set it down. He quickly took
another bite of his breakfast sandwich as Chief Webber walked up to them. All
he did was point to the two of them.

“You two, in my office, now!”

The Chief turned and walked back to his office. Fred looked at Don and
rolled his eyes.

Don had seen that look on the Chief’s face before and knew he meant
business. It was last year when a senator’s son was convicted of killing his
girlfriend. The kid claimed a frame job but all the evidence pointed to him. It
turned out that the kid was a serial rapist and in the end was serving hard
time for his actions.

Life was made difficult for Don during the investigation, with
everyone wanting him to look the other way. Don got reprimanded for some of his
actions during his research of the youth’s criminal activities. But he was
proud that he had the tenacity to do the right thing by the victim, because the
senator’s son didn’t deserve to be saved from the justice system.

Don didn’t like people who thought they were above the law and used
their influence to stop criminal investigations. It was those instances that
caused Don to pursue the case like a pit bull with his teeth clenched fiercely
in his person of interest. And, in most cases, it lead to uncovering other
crimes the perpetrator got away with. But in the end, in a jury trial, it
showed a pattern of behavior that caused jurors to be harsher on the defendant.

 
Don always got satisfaction
when the defendant refused to take a plea agreement, which meant when they were
found guilty of their crime, their punishment was to the full extent of the
law—unlike the slap on the hand they would have gotten if they took the plea.