Loose Ends

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Tucker really needed to hire a housekeeper. Dishes cluttered the kitchen countertops, left from two days prior when he’d made supper for Jaydin and him. He had laundry piling up, vacuuming to get done, and a whole hell of a lot of clutter to get rid of. Had he actually let Janelle do most of the housework when they were together? She used to say as much, but he never really saw the evidence until now. If he didn’t have someone around to pick up after him, he had a tendency to just let things go.

Well, maybe his obsession with his caseload had something to do with it. And the facts he’d uncovered while investigating the Ramsey case were staggering. Maybe it was a good thing he was going to be taken off the case. He wasn’t sure how he’d face Ivan. Tucker didn’t relish the idea of the young man finding out his own father had killed Ivan’s mother. Tucker couldn’t imagine what it would be like to first lose one parent and then have the other whisked away to prison for the rest of their life.

And of all the goddamned, stupid-ass things for him to do, why’d he have to haul off and kiss Ivan like he’d done the night before? That really made a mess of everything. He needed to take Janelle’s advice and call his boss, ask her to reassign the case. He sat in his recliner, staring at his phone. She might not appreciate a call so early in the morning. It was Saturday, after all, and only a little after eight o’clock.

He snatched the phone off the stand and held it in his hand, heaving a defeated sigh. Before he could pull up his boss’ number, his ringtone sounded. He stared down at the number, trying to recall why it looked familiar. No, it couldn’t be. Why on earth was Ivan calling him again and at such an early hour? f**k, it had to be about the damn kiss.

He pressed the button and held the phone to his ear. “Hello. Detective Brown.” The line seemed dead at first. No one responded. “Hello? Ivan?”

“Detective…” Ivan’s voice was strained, an octave or two higher than the normal timbre. “I need to talk to you.”

“If this is about last night…”

“It’s not about that. Although…well, we should probably talk about that too, but it’s about my dad and my brother. I didn’t…uh…I didn’t know who else to call. I think my dad…”

Tucker pushed himself up in the chair, straightening his posture. “Ivan, you realize I’m investigating this case. Maybe you should be calling an attorney.”

“You probably already know, things don’t look good right now. If you’ve discovered the evidence my brother showed me this morning…”

“Which is why you shouldn’t be talking to me…and why I shouldn’t be talking to you.”

“You f*****g kissed me, for God’s sake! You can at least—“

Fuck! He was about to lose it. Ivan was about to start crying over the phone. “It’s okay. Wait. I know how upset you must be, how hurt.”

“You have no f*****g idea.” Now he really was crying. Son of a b***h. “There has to be some other explanation. There’s no way my dad would betray my mother like this. Even if it’s true he’s been having an affair, I can’t believe he’d kill my mom!”

“Ivan, listen to me. The truth is going to come out, and you might be right. What I want you to know is that if he’s innocent, we’ll figure it out. We aren’t going to charge someone with a crime unless we know with certainty.”

“I want to…”

“What?”

“I want to see you. I want to talk to you about what you know.”

“Ivan, no. I can’t do that. I can’t discuss this case with you or anyone. I’m sure you understand the importance of confidentiality.”

“Then I want to see you about…” The phone went silent again for a few seconds. “I want to talk to you about last night.”

“That was a mistake, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so pushy, and…and…and it was just completely inappropriate.”

“You almost made me come in my f*****g pants. Tucker…can I call you Tucker? I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Was this for real? Was Ivan as conflicted about his feelings as Tucker was, or was this just a ruse? He could just be playing Tucker, feigning interest in order to get what he wanted—information about the case.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Ivan went on. “You think I’m just trying to get close to you because of the case.”

Tucker coughed, holding one hand over the phone. “I don’t know what to think. What about the things you said to me last night? You didn’t seem all that interested in me then.”

“Oh really? Will you do something for me Tucker? Please…”

“What?”

“Close your eyes.”

“Huh?”

“Close your f*****g eyes. Forget about anything we said to each other. Just close your eyes and remember the kiss.”

Before closing them, Tucker rolled his eyes, annoyed. But he did as Ivan requested and closed his eyes, sinking back a bit in his chair as he did so. He thought about that moment, about how angry and sexy and down-right gorgeous Ivan was as he stood there waving his finger in Tucker’s face. And he remembered the impulse, the sudden urge that had overtaken him. He reached out and grabbed hold of Ivan’s shoulders and pulled him in, and…oh f*****g God! He responded. His whole damned body responded as he seemed to just melt into Tucker’s embrace. The feel of him, his scent, the taste of his mouth! He remembered it all and as his eyes shot open he realized he was groping himself.

“Meet me at the diner on the corner of Williams Road in half an hour. We’re going on a road trip.” Tucker said the words without bothering to think through his actions. He couldn’t walk away from this guy. He couldn’t drop the case and forget he’d ever met Ivan Ramsey, so instead he went all in—head first.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The last time Ivan ate at this restaurant was with his brother and father, the day he found out his mom’s death had not been accidental. A nosey reporter had come over to their table asking intrusive questions. Ivan looked around, fearing a repeat of the incident. He didn’t want to be seen dining with the detective, especially not by a reporter.

He spotted Tucker Brown in a corner booth nursing a cup of coffee. Ivan stopped in his tracks, staring for a moment. Maybe this was a mistake after all. Why would this man have any motivation to help Ivan or his family? Tucker’s job was to solve crimes and to convict criminals. He was seeking evidence to build a case against Ivan’s father, and it made zero sense for Ivan to even associate with the man.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and commenced. Determined to appear confident, he slid into the booth and looked Tucker in the eye as the detective surmised him. The man’s mere presence exuded strength and self-assuredness. He was a cop, after all, and didn’t all police officers view the law as a set of absolutes? Expecting empathy and compassion from a man like this was like expecting a lion to feel sorry for the zebra it was about to eat.

Butterflies fluttered in Ivan’s stomach as he opened his mouth to speak. Words didn’t immediately come out, so he just sat there a few seconds gaping like a fish out of water. “Um, thanks for agreeing to…um…see me. You said you wanted me to take a road trip with you?”

Before Tucker could respond, a waitress appeared with a carafe of coffee. Ivan informed her he’d not be ordering food and commenced to open three creamer cups and stir them into his beverage. Tucker just sat there watching, still silent. At last, Ivan looked up, and their gazes locked on each other.

“I’m only like a hundred percent sure this is a terrible idea,” Tucker said, glowering. “I think the best thing I could do at this point would be to resign from the case. I’m thinking of calling my sergeant and requesting she take me off it.”

“No, wait…” Ivan bit his bottom lip as he stared imploringly at the broad-shouldered detective. “I don’t want you to do that.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed, then looked down at the coffee he was still stirring. “I’m not sure what to think anymore, but I need to know the truth about what happened.”

“Really? And what if the truth is uglier than you could ever imagine?”

“My mother was murdered.” He again looked up at Tucker. “It doesn’t get any uglier than that, does it?”

Tucker raised his eyebrows. “I’m afraid it might.” He spoke softly, barely whispering. “I know your father had a motive for killing your mother. I know he potentially had a weapon and a means.” He stopped talking long enough to breathe. “And I know he was having an affair, but what I don’t know is how to explain his alibi.”

“Can’t you just confirm that he was where he claimed to be, at a motel in Deckerville?”

Tucker nodded. “Of course, and I’ve already done that. He checked into the motel at 4:43pm on Thursday, the night before the murder. He also used his credit card that day at Home Depot in Deckerville, and he ordered takeout Chinese that was delivered to his room that evening.”

“And?”

“And he was still checked in at the hotel the next morning when the police contacted him by cell phone. He checked out, drove back to Fulton, and was first seen by the police around ten-thirty.”

“Right around the time I saw him.”

“Correct. He was contacted by phone, and an officer went to your brother’s home. Your brother then went directly to the hospital where you were just finishing your shift.”

Ivan took a sip of his coffee. “I don’t get it. Then what’s this road trip all about?”

“Deckerville is approximately two hours and thirty-seven minutes from Fulton. He ordered his takeout food at 11:47pm.”

“What? Why would they be open so late?”

“Twenty-four hour delivery. It’s in their Internet ad. Guaranteed thirty-minute delivery.”

“So Dad had a late-night craving for rice and vegetables, I still don’t see your point. How could he have committed the murder when he was in an entirely different place? You don’t think he hired someone to do it, do you?”

Tucker shook his head. “I don’t see any evidence of that, but I also don’t see this as an airtight alibi. The desk clerk at the hotel confirms that your father called the front desk just before 1am to request a 9am wake-up call.”

“That is so like my dad. He knew nothing about using his own Smartphone. Would’ve been easier to just set his phone alarm.”

“Right, but by requesting the wakeup call from his room phone, he has further solidified his alibi. That doesn’t leave much of a window for him to drive all the way to Fulton and back before morning. I want to drive there myself and time it precisely. And I want to check their surveillance videos for clues to either prove or disprove the alibi.”

Ivan leaned forward. This whole thing seemed bizarre, something straight out of an episode of Forensic Files. “Since when do motels have surveillance cameras?”

“They have a couple outside cameras of their parking lot and entrance, and they have one in their lobby.”

“Good! Then we’ll know for sure if my dad left that evening. If he didn’t, then he’s free and clear.”

Tucker nodded. “And if he did…”

“Well, come on then. Let’s get going. Why’re we wasting time here drinking coffee.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I thought maybe it was just a matter of you enjoying my company.”

“You can enjoy my company in the car. You’re driving, right?”

“Of course.” Tucker pulled out his wallet and threw some currency on the table. “Let’s hit the road then.”