Like a cornered animal desperate to find an escape, Sheryl's eyes darted back and forth as she tried to absorb her situation and, at the same time, figure a way out of it. I could almost see her thought processes spinning behind her pupils as feelings she still had for Seaver wrestled with how he'd been treating her recently and the threat she knew he represented to her. What she'd seen of his past behaviors towards people he thought betrayed him had to be in the mix somewhere.
"So, what should I do—go to a police station and turn myself in?" Sheryl finally asked, and I got the odd feeling she was playing for time. I suspected she knew what needed to happen and anything would be better than that. I simply assumed the answer to avoid getting hung up on making it acceptable to her.
"I know someone who can help us," I said. "I will stay with you as long as you need me to. The police have to take a statement from you. We can have the officers come here, or you can go there, or we can meet them somewhere else."
"I don't want the police to come here," Sheryl said. "This is my girlfriend's place. I don't want to cause trouble for her with the landlord or the neighbors. There's a Burger King up on Market—can I meet them there?"
"Absolutely. Let me call my friend," I said. "I'll put it on speaker, so you'll know what's happening."
I dialed Marci's work number. The great thing about her desk job was that she usually answered if she was on duty, and my luck was still running true—she picked up on the third ring.
"Hi, Marci, this is Debra Ann. Just so you know, I'm calling you about official business, and I've got someone else with me—you're on speakerphone," I said in my at-the-office voice.
"Hi, Debra Ann," Marci said, sounding slightly concerned. "Is this about Mark Christensen and the Brian Pierce case? You should know Chicago PD drug their heels interviewing him, and by the time they got around to it, he was in the wind. All we've got for the moment is hearsay from Dale Newsome, and it's not enough to pick up Ricky Mason."
Dammit – one step forward, and two steps back, I thought. I'd had my doubts initially that Mark would see it though, but once I'd recorded the interview, I thought he was locked in.
"That's not good...," I said, "but that's not what I was calling you about.
"Are you okay?" Marci asked. "Are you reporting a crime?"
"No, I'm fine, thanks for worrying about me," I said. "She's got something to say about that, too, but I'm helping a material witness to a different homicide come forward."
"Oh, Debra Ann, this isn't about the Seaver missing person case, is it?" Marci said, not hiding the frustration in her voice. "I thought we had an understanding...."
"We did, Marci. But someone forgot to tell Seaver's goons that our understanding didn't include them trying to kill me. Or trashing my apartment and copying my private papers."
"I got your messages. That's a discussion we'll have to have at another time. So, tell me about your witness," Marci asked, seeming resigned to the situation.
"I'm sitting here with Shawntelle Whitman," I said. "You have her in the system as Sheryl Jansen."
"The name sounds familiar, but I can't place it...." Marci said.
"Sheryl Jansen was one of James Seaver's associates during the Theresa Seaver missing person investigation," I said. "A detective interviewed her early on, but not with any consideration for her or her circumstances. They had a principal in a potential homicide case known to them as a bully. You'd think the investigators would realize that witnesses around him might feel—wait, what's the word? Oh yeah, 'bullied.' That's what we should discuss."
"You should tread a little more lightly, Debra Ann. The department had to shelve any follow-up interviews by senior detectives. That's because Seaver's lawyer sent a cease-and-desist letter. What does Shawntelle offer to change anything?" Marci asked, sounding like she was going to need convincing.
"I've interviewed Shawntelle on the record at some length, and it's pretty clear she's an eyewitness to the homicide of Theresa Seaver."
"Wait, you said eyewitness?" Marci asked. Now I had her full attention.
"She wants to make a statement and will need protection once she does. Shawntelle was in the room when James Seaver killed Theresa Seaver with a golf club. She was in the house throughout the rest of that day and into the next until James Seaver and Ricky Mason drove away with the body in a van. James Seaver is aware she's the only living witness to the killing, and there are clear indications he doesn't trust her anymore. She also overheard Seaver's side of the conversation when Ricky Mason called him to clean up Brian Pierce's homicide."
"How the hell did they miss all that?!?" Marci asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "We've been treading water for a year because we couldn't come up with a witness to contradict James Seaver's stories."
"Shawntelle was James Seaver's friend on the side during his marriage," I said. "He needed to keep her out of the limelight, and he finessed a sympathetic detective that she wasn't involved. No one interviewed her separately and apart from him. At that point, it was just a missing person case, not that big of a deal yet."
"Jesus Christ, witness interviewing 101," Marci said, now seeming to grasp the situation. "Still, there might be a silver lining. The fact the police have not talked to her apart from him may have kept her alive; Seaver wouldn't have to worry about what she might have said. But I take your point – we have to get her to safety. The bodies are piling up around James Seaver."
"Do you think you can get someone from Homicide to record her statement and see that she's cared for?" I asked. I knew Marci worked for Major Case, not Homicide, but I was also aware she had great relationships within both squads.
"Lt. Paul Roe's in the precinct, working on his reports, and I think he's available. He's a solid detective," Marci said, her tone noticeably softer and more personal. She seemed no longer in the mood to scold me. "You've met him. He's good in these situations, and he knows the Seaver case. Give me a few minutes, but stay on the line. Does that work for you?"
While I can't say I knew him well, I had interacted with Roe at several crime scenes over the years with the Union-Tribune. He was one of the good guys—bright, hard-working, and articulate.
"He'd be the right guy, no doubt. There's a Burger King off Market's westbound lane, just east of 36th Street. It would be great if he could meet us there. We'll hang tight until you come back on the line," I said, hoping I sounded as appreciative of her help as I was.
After a few minutes, Marci returned. "Lt. Roe can meet you at the Market Street Burger King in 30 minutes," Marci said. "Shawntelle will have to explain everything in her own words to him. He can get her protection for tonight until the department can make other arrangements."
"Good. I'll talk to you later, Marci, and thanks, you've been great," I said, gratified that she wasn't one to hold a grudge.
"You are welcome, but it is my job," Marci said. "Debra Ann, just be careful; that's all I ask. And, please, do call me once the officers have provided for Ms. Jansen's immediate needs." She sounded genuinely concerned, yet another sign she'd put aside any hard feelings between us.
Our challenge now was getting Sheryl protected so she could tell her story to the people who needed to hear it before James Seaver or any of his thugs could get to us.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
The Mourning Mail (final release candidate #7)
रहस्य / थ्रिलरOccasional feistiness may be a redhead's prerogative, but stubbornness and principles land Debra Ann Wynn in trouble. Her ungracious exit as the lead investigative journalist for the San Diego Union-Tribune has her working freelance. From his deathb...
