Authors: Rayven T. Hill
Hank and Annie leaned forward, their eyes on the monitor.
Callaway tapped a key and a directory of photo icons appeared. “These all have a timestamp from this Tuesday. I assume that’s what you’re interested in, Hank?”
“Yes.”
“This is the earliest one,” Callaway said, double-clicking an icon. A shot of a man approaching the driveway of a house appeared on the screen. Taken from a distance away, only a partial side view of the man’s face was visible.
“That’s the Overstone house,” Annie said, pointing at the monitor. “And that’s Ace.”
“It could be him,” Hank said calmly. “But it’s not very clear from this distance. Can you zoom in?”
Annie looked at Hank. She could tell he was pleased to see the photos, but the cop was holding back his elation.
Callaway zoomed in. What was visible of the face was in the shadow of a baseball cap, and the features were unclear. They went through the other photos, one by one. Close-up shots had been taken as well, but the man’s back had been turned to the camera.
Hank sat back. “Cue up the bank video again, Callaway. I wanna see the best shot you can get me of the guy’s face.”
In a moment, Annie squinted at a blurry still of the bank robber. She compared it to the shots from the camera and the photo of Ace.
“All three photos are of the same man,” she said, pointing to the screen. “And in the picture at the house, he’s still wearing the same clothes he had on at the bank robbery.
Hank turned to Annie and gave her the thumbs-up. His smile turned to a grin. “As unclear as they are, the existence of these photos is the best news I’ve had all week.”
Annie sat back and gave Hank a smug look. “Jake wasn’t lying to you.”
The cop’s eyes twinkled. “So it appears.”
“And now you’re convinced he’s innocent?”
“Totally convinced. But who erased the pictures?”
Annie held up the photo of Ace. “He did. After he shot Mrs. Overstone, he left through the basement window and went to the car. Then he deleted the photos and planted the cell phone.” She paused. “And Jake’s out there somewhere looking for him.”
Hank rubbed at his chin. “First we need to find out who he is. Then we can bring him in and talk to him.”
“I’ll get on it right now,” Callaway said, taking the photo from Annie. “Shouldn’t take too long.”
Annie followed Hank back to his desk and they sat down.
“We still have a problem,” Hank said. “I’ve never been more pleased in my life than I am to see those photos. It proves Jake was telling the truth. But we still have no proof it’s Ace in the video or at the house. They’re not clear enough, and as far as a jury would be concerned, it could be Jake.”
“So how do we prove it’s Ace and not Jake?”
“Other than a confession, I don’t know.” He paused. “With your testimony, there’s no doubt we can get him for trying to run you off the road. Officers are out there right now following up on all the registered red Mustangs in the area, but there’re a lot of them. So far, they’ve had no luck. But once we find the Mustang, we should have proof of the hit and run. But at the moment, that’s all we have. A charge of him shooting off a firearm wouldn’t likely stick, especially with no evidence he fired it.”
“What about Jake’s testimony?”
Hank shook his head. “Jake’s still officially a suspect. His word is worthless without proof. With the evidence against him, it would look like he’s making up a story to cover himself.”
“And the photos?” Annie asked.
Hank shrugged. “Any good lawyer could argue the time on the camera might’ve been changed and the photos taken earlier, perhaps photos of Jake taken by you.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Along with everything else, it could help convince a jury of Jake’s guilt.”
Annie blew out an exasperated sigh. She had no doubt Ace was behind everything, but their hands were tied.
“Sorry, Annie. I’m still not free to do anything to help Jake. And Diego wants him brought in ASAP.”
“Hank.” It was Callaway calling. “I’ve got an ID on this guy.”
Annie and Hank hurried over to Callaway’s desk.
“His name’s Albert Irish,” the young cop said. “Twenty-four years old. He’s got a short record. Been in prison a couple of times for break and enter.”
Hank leaned in and looked at the monitor.
Callaway continued, “He has a red 2007 Mustang registered in his name.”
“Address?”
“Two twenty Crestwood Avenue.”
Hank looked at Annie. “We can bring him in and talk to him. But again, all we have is the hit and run, and it’s up to you to press charges.”
Hank seemed to be leaving the decision up to her, and she didn’t know what to say. If she pressed charges, they’d bring Ace in. But once he was in custody, Annie feared he’d clam up as soon as they questioned him further. And if he got a lawyer, the lack of evidence against Ace wouldn’t do Jake any good. Ace would receive little more than a slap on the wrist.
“Hank, there’s more,” Callaway said. “Got some family info on Irish. His mother was remarried some time ago, then divorced again. She still goes by her most recent married name of Tinker.”
“Tinker?” Annie said. “How do I know that name?”
Callaway sat back and looked at Annie. “Wanda Tinker is Merrilla Overstone’s sister.”
Annie’s eyes widened. “That means Ace Irish is Merrilla Overstone’s nephew.”
Friday, 9:57 a.m.
JAKE HAD SPENT the last few minutes becoming familiar with the layout of the house. First, he’d made sure Ace’s mother wasn’t in the kitchen or living room, then he’d crept down the short hallway to a pair of bedrooms.
The first one, a woman’s room, had been empty.
And now, as he stood in front of the other room, where soft snoring sounds came from behind the closed bedroom door, he hoped his foolish plan would work.
He took a deep breath, turned the knob, and pushed the door open.
A man lay on the bed facing away. He groaned, rolled onto his back and stretched. Then he turned his head and looked at Jake.
The man’s mouth fell open, his eyes enlarged, and he sprang to a sitting position. One hand reached for the drawer of a stand beside his bed.
Jake waited patiently in the doorway while Ace fumbled in the drawer and removed a pistol. He pointed it toward Jake, gazing down the barrel with unfocused eyes.
“The police are outside,” Jake said. “You’d better be careful with that thing.”
Ace looked at the weapon, then toward the bedroom window facing the rear of the house, then back at Jake. He frowned. “So why didn’t they come in?”
“They’re waiting for a warrant. They plan to arrest you for trying to run my wife off the road. I’m the only one who knows what else you did, and I’m here to talk to you.”
Ace glanced at his gun, then gave a short laugh. “I don’t see what good talk is gonna do. I’m the one with the gun.”
“If you kill me, that’ll make four murders,” Jake said. “Are you prepared to handle that?”
Ace narrowed his eyes. “If I shoot you, it’s for breaking into my house. There’s no way they can prove I shot anyone else.” He smiled. “I set you up too good. The cops think you killed all those people.”
Jake laughed. “Here’s the thing, Ace. The police know I’m in here, so if you kill me, it’s murder.”
Ace struggled to pull a pair of pants on with one hand, then managed to work a t-shirt over his head. He slipped on a pair of running shoes, then, keeping one eye on Jake, he went to the window. He peered out and looked around, then turned back and motioned with the pistol. “Into the living room.”
Jake turned and went into the hallway. Ace followed, prodding him into the living room. Then, going to the front window, he pulled the drapes slightly aside and looked outside. He turned back with a frown. “There’re no cops out there.”
“All right,” Jake said. “You got me. I just didn’t want you to shoot me until we had a chance to talk.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Ace said. “I’m gonna kill you, anyway. Just not here. Not in my mother’s house.”
Jake crossed his arms. “You don’t have to kill me, Ace. I’ll make a deal with you. Give me the money from the bank robbery and everybody’s happy.”
Ace glared a moment, a deep frown on his face. “Couldn’t do it if I wanted to. The money’s gone. You know that. Hicks put most of it in your garage.”
Jake shrugged. “Then give me what’s left.”
“I spent it.”
Jake sighed. “I’m trying to help you out here.”
“No. You’re trying to blackmail me.”
“Yeah, you could call it that. I say it’s splitting the profits. I need a little something to get out of town.” Jake shrugged. “You did a number on me, and I have no choice.”
“I got no money.”
“What about Merrilla Overstone?” Jake asked. “Didn’t you get anything from her?”
“I will soon, but not yet.”
“How soon.”
“Once I get rid of Uncle Niles.”
Uncle Niles? What was Ace talking about?
“Are you telling me Merrilla Overstone is your aunt?” Jake asked.
Ace nodded.
“So how much money can you get me?” Jake said. “I need ten grand.”
Ace shrugged. “Hafta wait for the insurance. Might take a few days.” He narrowed his eyes. “I still think it’d be easier to kill you and be done with it.”
“And mar your perfect record?”
Ace laughed. “Yeah, it all worked out pretty well.”
“Look,” Jake said, “I’m willing to shake on this deal if you are. I have a safe place to go, but I need some money. Maybe I can work for you after this all blows over.”
“Don’t know as I need anybody else. And you’re too hot.” He looked around the room, scratching his head. Finally, he continued, “But I’ll help you out on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“I need you to kill Niles Overstone.”
“Why?”
“Once he’s dead, the insurance money goes to my mother. Then I’ll have access to it. Uncle Niles has no family, and neither did Auntie.” He laughed. “It’s not exactly the way Auntie planned it, but it works for me.”
“Your aunt wanted your uncle dead?” Jake asked.
“Don’t be an idiot. Of course not. She wanted him to get the insurance money and help me out at the same time.”
“Help you out how?”
Ace sighed. “She knew I robbed the bank. She said she recognized me when my mask fell off, and she cornered me. Said if I help her out, she won’t turn me in. She figured the cops would find a connection between me and her eventually, so I had nothing to lose and lots to gain.”
“So you were happy to oblige.”
Ace shrugged. “Once I found out the bills were marked, and I wouldn’t be able to spend the money, she had me over a barrel. So what could I do? Besides, when she told me she’d left five grand to me in her will, I was all ears. So we talked a little more, and we finally came up with a simple plan.”
“It was an amazing plan, Ace. I have to hand it to you,” Jake said, then laughed. “But why kill your aunt?”
“That was the whole idea. She really wanted to die in the worst way. Had cancer, you know. Said she would’ve killed herself, but she wanted to make sure my uncle got the insurance money.” He shrugged. “Apparently, they don’t pay for suicide. It was a good plan, though. One where no one would think my uncle was involved. She wanted to make sure he wasn’t suspected in any way. But I changed the plan a little bit after I got to thinking about all the money.”
“You’re a genius, Ace,” Jake said.
Ace puffed up his chest. “Yeah, I guess I am.” He had his arms crossed now, the pistol relaxed and pointing to the side. “Auntie chickened out at the last minute, though. I don’t think she really thought it through before. Once she saw my gun, she changed her mind and started to shake all over, begging me not to continue.” He sighed. “Hated to do it after that, but, you know. She can’t wave money in front of me like that and then change her mind. It ain’t fair.”
“You’re absolutely right, Ace,” Jake said. “It wasn’t fair at all. But why frame me?
Ace laughed. “Some people think we look alike. Auntie did too. Said she saw you on the news. After we started tossing around ideas, I came up with the plan to set you up. Auntie thought it was a great idea, because anyone who saw me at the bank would swear it was you after the cops started mentioning your name around. She called it the power of suggestion or something like that.”
“Amazing plan, Ace.”
Ace continued, “She told you my uncle was having an affair and hired you to watch the house. All I had to do was come to the house, shoot her, then sneak out the basement window and plant the phone in your car. She’d arranged all the phone calls and text messages already, so I didn’t have to worry about none of that.”
“And the camera?”
“We didn’t think about any camera, but when I saw it, I was gonna take it. Then, I figured if you took any shots, it would be better to erase them and leave the camera there.”
“What about the woman next door?”
Ace shrugged. “According to Auntie, that snoopy woman’s always in the backyard. She’d be sure to hear the shot. And we opened the back door so you’d think I ran out there. We didn’t know you’d grab the gun and run outside with it, so that was a bonus. Got your prints on the gun and the woman saw you holding it. And voila. A simple and perfect setup.”
“Yes, it was perfect,” Jake said. “But what if your aunt had lived?”
Ace roared with laughter. “That was a bad shot. The plan was to shoot her in the heart. But like I said, Auntie changed her mind, and she was struggling so much, I shot her in the wrong spot. The poor woman had to go through a bit of pain.” He shrugged. “But it all worked out in the end. Actually, it worked out better than all right. Auntie lived long enough to tell the cops it was you who shot her. With your prints on the gun, who was gonna doubt that?”
“You nailed me good, Ace,” Jake said. “I admire you for that.” He held out a hand. “So, do we have a deal?”
Ace looked at the outstretched hand.
Jake took a step forward. “We have to shake on it.”
Ace frowned and brought his gun hand around, pointing the weapon at Jake. “Not so fast.”