Chapter 9

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By afternoon, a tip came through the line. “Hey, we found Jake, the drug dealer. He is downtown at a car repair shop. We need to head there right now, bring a backup officer with you.” The three of us rolled out to the repair shop. We walked into the garage, asking the mechanics around the bay for Jake. It turned out he was the actual owner of the shop. “Jake? We need to ask you some questions,” Richard said firmly. The backup officer grabbed his arm, escorting him directly to our car before a crowd could form. Back at the station, a new file hit the desk. Jake, can you tell us why you were out at the ranch that day?” I asked, leaning against the metal table. “Sigh... man, I'm just following orders. I'm innocent,” Jake scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Sure, buddy,” Richard said, mockingly raising his eyebrows. “I... I just wanted that money,” Jake confessed, his bravado dropping. “He told me if I sent the text message, he'd pay me well. But the guy didn't even pay me, man.” “Who?” I demanded, slamming my hand on the table. “Who told you?” “I don't know! I don't even know his name, dude. I just know he approached me one day at a gas station and told me to send the message. After that, I did the deed, and I don't know anything else about him. He played me, used me for his dirty work, and completely disappeared.” “You knew you were getting involved in illegal activity,” I pressed, glaring at him. “You saw the photos.” “No, because the pictures are not real,” Jake protested. Richard and I locked eyes. The air in the room instantly turned cold. We knew the pictures were real. That was an actual victim in those photos—a real, bleeding woman dead on a crime scene before our team even arrived. A surge of absolute anger and sickness filled my body. I couldn't stand to be in the room for another second. I turned and bolted out the door. Standing behind the double-sided mirror, I watched him through the glass. I could still hear his muffled voice coming through the speaker system. “I don't know anything, I swear!” Jake yelled, his voice echoing in the small room. “Does the mention of a kidnap ring any bells?” Detective Richard asked, his voice deadpan. “Uh... I... look, I only mentioned that because... I... fuck, uhm...” Jake started fumbling over his words, his face flushing red. Richard placed both of his hands together on the metal table, leaning forward with a firm, intense look. The harsh light caught his jawline. He looked almost handsome. Wait... why am I thinking that right now? A wave of shame washed over me. This was so incredibly unprofessional. My mind was drifting while a criminal sat in our box. My husband was gone, and I was losing my focus. I forced my thoughts back to the interview. “Look man, I wasn't saying I was gonna kidnap her,” Jake stammered, pulling at his collar. “It just slipped out.” “Slipped?” Richard raised his eyebrows, pressing harder. “Yeah,” Jake muttered. I opened the door and re-entered the room, unable to stay away from the answers. Jake looked up at me, throwing his hands in the air like he was completely defeated. “Well... he did not only tell me to deliver the message. He also paid me to kidnap Juan.” I leaned over the table, getting right in his face. “What about a woman, Jake? What about the woman in the photo?” “I haven't done anything to her yet!” Jake insisted. “Yet?” I asked, a single brow raised to put maximum pressure on him. “Man, I was just doing exactly what I was told to do!” Jake yelled.