Sanctuary 02 - The Only Easy Day (CMS) (MM) (4 page)

It was all bullshit.

Time to call in the team's resources and see what else he could find out, and Dexter answered on the first ring. "J?"

"Have you heard?"

"Direct from the CO," Dexter responded quickly,

"then I checked online."

"It's all crap." 

"Okay. Talk to me." Dexter had never even met his stepsister, but if Joseph said none of it was right, then Dexter would follow his lead.

"Where did Fuentes get to?" Had the team scattered? Was their tech guy still on base? Was anyone around to help?

"He didn't leave the Bay yet. You want him for something?"

"Get him to track down anything, and I mean anything, on the players I'm sending you via text, and anyone else that jumps out from the news reports." He didn't need to add a please. Downtime or not, the team was a team, and when needed, they would drop everything to help.

"You need me up there with you?" Dexter would be there in a heartbeat. Joseph hesitated momentarily. God, how easy it would be to get Dexter here for backup or just for someone to bounce ideas off of, but he had been away from his girlfriend for so long.

"I'm handling it," he said instead. He ended the call and pocketed his cell. It wasn't his way to go into any situation blind, but who the hell knew how long it would take Fuentes to come back with anything useful? He'd sleep, then as soon as he could, he would be at the DA's office with his questions. Joseph wasn't going to hang around with his thumb up his ass. He had a place to go and a name to go with it, and that was next on his list.

Lissa MacIntyre, Assistant District Attorney and the lead on the case against the cop who'd killed Elisabeth.

* * * *

Joseph locked the Jeep and leaned back against the dusty side just to take a few minutes to center himself. He stood for some time contemplating the Albany County Judicial Building from the safety of a parking area opposite. The road was blocked off, and he couldn't get the Jeep any closer. Acutely aware of the people walking in and around the building, he focused intently on the flags that waved in the slight wind and thought on what he had learned and what more he needed to know. There was no visible outside security, but he knew the main barrier to entrance would be inside through the large arch over the main door. He would be going in blind with only a name.

There was no promise she would even see him. Training made him feel like he should draw a weapon and demand names and information. Yeah, like that was going to work.

He needed to use diplomacy here. 

He might well carry a concealed permit for Virginia and New York State, but being in the military didn't give him license to carry a weapon into any type of government building. Not for the first time, he wished the unorthodox rules that applied to SEALs when overseas carried over to the good old US of A. His treasured SIG Sauer P226 was safely in the lockbox fitted under the seat of his Wrangler Rubicon. This wasn't a guns blazing situation; this was normal life.

Pushing through the main doors, he met familiarity.

A scanner for weapons, security guards holding the world away from the law keepers inside. It didn't do any good to just stand there staring like some country hick. He was a suspicious enough visitor as it was; however he dressed, he couldn't get rid of the aura of tough guy.

Walking with intent, he passed through the first level of security, exchanging nods with the guards as nothing flashed to indicate he was armed. Second was the desk with the receptionists, three young women who sat with headphones in their ears and screens in front of them.

"Can I help you, sir?" the nearest secretary asked. A blue-eyed blonde, she stared at him with a look that mixed appreciation and apprehension. He was used to that.

"I'd like to see ADA MacIntyre," he stated simply. 

He hunched a little to make himself appear less threatening, but nothing stopped him from being a six-foot SEAL with attitude, however hard he tried to disguise the soldier in him.

The secretary clicked a few buttons then frowned at her screen.

"Do you have an appointment, sir?"

"No. I don't have an appointment, but if you could just phone—"

"I'm sorry, sir. This office is run through appointments. I can certainly book you in for a week from Thursday."

Joseph sighed. "I appreciate that, ma'am." He offered the words his best gentle voice. "But could you phone through and tell her Joseph Kinnon is here about his stepsister, Elisabeth Costain?" What ensued next was a short battle of wills, but when Joseph added in a wide smile, the blonde blushed.

"I can try her secretary for you. Wait one moment."

She pressed a few more buttons on her phone. "There is a Joseph Kinnon in reception for ADA MacIntyre concerning his step-sister, Elisabeth Costain… yes, I'll let him know."

Ending the call, she scanned a card and handed it to Joseph.

"Third floor, sir; turn left out of the elevators. Her receptionist will meet you and assist you to the ADAs office."

He thanked her, selected the nearest elevator, and keyed the third floor. Nerves were building in the pit of his stomach, and his head hurt. A combination of exhaustion and grief was letting itself be known in sharp stabbing pains behind his eyes. The need for a chain of information had led him here, but what he would get from this ADA might be nothing at all.

"Chief Kinnon," the woman said as the elevator doors opened. A blonde, she was slightly older than he was and wasn't exactly dressed as security. She held out a hand as he took the step out of the elevator and into the corridor.

Instinct had him grasping her smaller hand with his own.

"Lissa MacIntyre, Assistant District Attorney," she offered. "Please, come with me." She led him down the corridor to a room with no labels. Inside there were comfortable sofas in an interesting shade of green, and the windows overlooked the very lot where he had left the Jeep. A large whiteboard was the focus of the room. When the door closed on them, she crossed to the sofa and indicated Joseph should sit. He didn't argue and sat opposite, feeling flustered when the ADA leaned forward and stared at him directly. 

"I'm sorry for your loss, Chief Kinnon."

"Joseph, please."

"It is an awful thing to come back home from tour to news like this." What was he supposed to say to that?

Heartache bit hard inside him, and he couldn't create the words in his head that would make everything seem right.

"You have probably heard we have the perpetrator in Coxsackie Correctional Facility."

Did she want him to be grateful that the man who had shot Elisabeth was going to be out on the streets again in ten years, probably less? He couldn't find one ounce of thanks for what she was telling him. No one knew why he'd killed Elisabeth, and that was what he needed to know. He decided to jump straight in and go for the jugular.

"Why did this cop, this Headley, kill Elisabeth?"

The ADA shook her head. "I wish I could help you with answers," she said. Again her voice dripped with sincerity, but he could read her like an open book. There was so much in her eyes she wasn't telling.

"And I say again, Ms MacIntyre, why did a lifer cop shoot Elisabeth in cold blood in an alleyway? Who ordered the shooting? Was she just in the wrong place at the wrong time? Did she know Headley?"

"Please, Joseph, you have to understand there is nothing I can add to this." She was evading his question, and he was convinced he would get nothing more from her.

He immediately slipped out of using patience and moved on to direct action. There was nothing to be served by sitting here listening to her giving him the usual lines.

"There was a witness to what the cop did. That much is public record. Right? Did the witness see anything that wasn't made public? Can I talk to him or her?" He asked the last part knowing what she would say, but just needing to get the words out there. Cut to the chase; find the core of the information.

"I'm afraid I don't have that information." Lissa dropped her gaze to the floor momentarily, but it was enough for Joseph to see she was withholding something he needed.

He ran hands over his hair and bowed his head. She was lying. She knew where this witness was, and he would find out one way or another. "You realize I will not let this rest until I find out why she died," he said.

"I don't doubt you will find out one day," she said carefully. "But it will not be with my assistance or with information passed from this office."

Frustration leaked into his voice. "None of this is adding up." 

"Joseph—"

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cell phone, and crossing to the whiteboard, he read his number from the screen and wrote it in big letters on the board in red pen.

"You have my number."

He left, no pleasantries. He simply left the room and took the stairs to the lobby, handing his security card in to the receptionist and leaving the building.

Only out in the fresh air did he allow the grief that banded his heart to rise to the surface. At a near jog, he made it back to his Jeep before allowing the heartache to take him completely. None of this was real. People telling him they were sorry for his loss? Elisabeth couldn't be gone. ADA MacIntyre knew much more than she could tell him. She was lying to him. Emotion choked his throat, and he crossed his hands on the steering wheel and leaned his head on them. How long he sat there in the corner of the parking area he didn't know. But he couldn't shake the anger and the defeat that he connected so viscerally to his loss. He wasn't stupid; he had seen the flash of uncertainty when he focused in on the witness. Clearly if the witness was being kept out of the case details, then was it because he had seen something he shouldn't have beside the murder? Did someone want the witness dead for some other nefarious reason? Who? This wasn't some random drive-by shooting or a friendly fire incident. A cop with over twenty years' service under his belt, a career cop, had killed his stepsister. Why?

The sound of his cell pulled him away from the edge of sheer breakdown, and he grabbed at it for the lifeline it was, identifying the caller with relief. Dex.

"Yeah"

"Fuentes came through on some info. Financials on Elisabeth and where she worked. Her boss is some governor hopeful and New York state senator—Thomas Bullen."

"I know." Joseph thought back to what the ADA had just told him, that she couldn't help him. God, he had gotten more information from Google and Dexter than he had from her.

Dexter continued. "I dug deeper on Bullen after a general sweep showed a few Bullens that fell a bit farther from the tree. I have possible links to members of Bullen's family who are not so whiter-than-white. Appears the senator got where he is playing on the innocence angle, saying that even though the rest of his family may have criminal histories, he was, and I quote, 'put on this earth to make amends'. Sounds like bullshit to me." Joseph digested the news then pulled his head out of the questioning. Had Elisabeth been killed because of her association with her boss? Organized crime was the same the world over. Use of fear to control wasn't anything new to him. He tapped the fingers of his right hand on his steering wheel.

"Add a name to the list for me. Ms, Miss, Mrs, I don't know, Lissa MacIntyre. She's the ADA who put the cop away. I just got out of a meeting with her."

"On it. Did she give you anything useful?"

"The cop is in jail. Ends there for the DA apparently. She's not giving me anymore." Joseph paused before asking the next question. As much as he tried, he couldn't stop Harvey's grief from lingering inside his thoughts. That wasn't how he worked, and he bit back the pain until only Chief Kinnon, SEAL, the sharp end of business was back in control. "Can you get the witness's name for me? I want to know what they saw," he finished.

"Noted. I'll find what I can," Dexter reassured quickly.

"Don't let Fuentes get caught doing all this, Dexter."

"Not a chance, J. He knows what he's doing. I've emailed you what we have, and I'll send the rest on as Fuentes gets it." He stopped and then added a hurried, "Joseph?"

"Yeah?" Joseph waited for the inevitable question.

With the feeling of expectation, like an axe about to fall, Joseph knew Dexter was going to cross the line from team to personal. The only person he would let close enough to ask him about anything outside the op was Dexter, but it still scared the shit out of him.

"Have you been to see where your stepsister is interred yet?" his best friend asked gently.

Joseph was quick to defend his lack of a visit with a handy lie. "I haven't had time—"

"Make time, J."

"I didn't know her well—"

"Go see her and say your goodbyes."

Joseph wanted to reach through the phone and grab Dexter round the neck. Who the fuck did his friend think he was to say something like that? The words were so final and abrupt and full of every single thing Joseph hated.

"I don't even know where—"

"It's in the info we sent. On your phone. And Joseph? Stay in touch."

Call ended, Joseph rested his head on his crossed arms again. He wasn't ashamed to say the thought of seeing where Elisabeth had been laid to rest was hard to imagine. 

SEAL or not, there were some things even he couldn't push through. 

Dale made a call to his Sanctuary partner as soon as he was back in his own cramped apartment. Nik should know that Lissa had called him, and what she told him filled Dale with concerns way outside what they were doing on this case. He didn't bother with pleasantries; he simply launched into what needed to be said.

"Lissa called; Elisabeth's brother came to see her today." There was a pause, then Nik sighed.

"We knew this would happen one day," he said. "It was only a matter of time before Joseph Kinnon's team came home from Iraq."

"Went straight to my sister, for fuck's sake—"

Nik chose to ignore that and dug straight into questions. "What did he ask? What was Lissa's impression of him?"

"She said he was just ticking boxes with the people who knew his stepsister. But he wants the witness's name; says he is going to find out why Elisabeth died and thinks maybe the witness saw things they shouldn't have. Shit, Nik, he's not going to let her death lie."