“Did she just roll her eyes at you?” Bas asked from the backseat.
“Yes.”
“Shut up, both of you. Let’s get in there before Jansen finds out I’m here and sneaks out the back way.” Suzanna opened her door and was out of the car before Gage could say another word. He sighed, really hoping Jansen didn’t give them a hard time because she was there. But from what she’d said, Jansen had a real problem with her, and it might be good to witness their interaction together. If Jansen wasn’t looking for anybody else because he had a preconceived idea that Suzanna was guilty, he might be able to work with that.
Walking to the front desk, he asked for Detective Jansen and was told he was on a call and they’d have to wait. Gage was used to that, usually trying to get to anybody at a busy police station was always a hurry-up-and-wait scenario, unless you knew somebody who could speed up the process. Most cops were overworked, underpaid, and underappreciated.
After fifteen minutes, Gage spotted a man headed their way. Hearing the accompanying groan from Suzanna, he was pretty sure the guy was Jansen. He looked about five foot eight or maybe nine, if he was being generous. Overweight with a bit of a belly, he still had a full head of dark hair threaded with silver. Middle age had caught up with him, and hadn’t been kind. A thick mustache over thin lips gave him the appearance of an eighties porn star more than a distinguished cop, and the ill-fitting suit didn’t do him any favors either.
Gage didn’t let his outward appearance sway his first impression. He’d learned that sometimes the smartest minds hid behind messed-up exteriors. Jansen deserved the benefit of the doubt, at least until Gage got a chance to hear the man out, find out what he had on Suzanna’s case.
“Detective Jansen?” At the man’s nod, he continued. “I’m Gage Newsome, and this is my associate, Sebastian Boudreau. And I’m sure you remember Mrs. Dawkins.”
Gage watched the man’s face change, as though a mask slid into place. Where he’d shown mild interest when he’d introduced himself, the second he’d spotted Suzanna, it was like his entire demeanor changed from professional to belligerent in a heartbeat. Without even acknowledging Suzanna, Jansen turned to Gage.
“Newsome? You’ve been leaving messages. I’ve got nothing to say on the case.”
Gage had figured that would be Jansen’s attitude, since the man had been dodging him for days. Easing his hand into his pocket, he pulled out his identification and flashed it at Jansen, watched the man’s eyes widen when he saw his credentials. While he had several different sets from his various stints with both the CIA and black ops, he rarely used this one, although it was an official badge and if checked, would show that he was an FBI agent.
“You sure you have nothing to say to me, detective? Because I’d be more than happy to speak with your division chief.”
Jansen huffed out an angry breath. “Let’s go somewhere quieter where we can talk.” He shot an angry glare at Suzanna, before asking, “You planning on taking over the case?”
“No, but I have been asked to look into the fact surrounding the case by an interested party. An informal, off-the-record conversation between two professionals, if you catch my drift; unless you’d like for me to assume jurisdiction over the Dawkins murder investigation. I’d like to discuss your findings and your impression of Mr. Dawkins murder.”
Jansen shot a blistering glare toward Suzanna. “Gonna be hard to talk freely in front of the prime suspect. Matter of fact, I don’t think it’s in the best interest of the investigation to allow her to be present. You want to know what I’ve got, she stays out here.”
Gage crossed his arms over his chest and sent a withering glare of his own toward Jansen. “Funny, I brought Mrs. Dawkins along so you could ask her any questions you might have. She’s agreed to fully cooperate and answer anything you’d like to ask. But if you’re not interested in having her front and center and fully willing to cooperate with an interrogation…” He deliberately let the bait dangle, waiting to see if Jansen was foolish enough to snatch it up.
Jansen took a deep breath before looking at Bas. “What about him? He work for the FBI too?”
Gage shook his head. “No, Mr. Boudreau works for Samuel Carpenter and Carpenter Security Services. He’s here investigating a completely different aspect to Mrs. Dawkins’ case. Were you aware that there was a kidnapping and attempted murder perpetrated on Mrs. Dawkins while she was in New Orleans a few days ago?”
The look of shock on Jansen’s face told Gage the other man had no clue about what happened in Louisiana. Personally, he still felt there was a connection between the two cases, but hadn’t been able to find the thread leading from one case to the other—yet.
“Looks like interrogation room 3 is open. Why don’t you head on in there, and let me grab my notes and I’ll be right with you.” He pointed them toward room 3, then bustled toward a desk in the corner, piled high with stacks of folders and manila envelopes. Gage couldn’t help wondering why so much paperwork was sitting around, when the DPD was highly computerized. Could be a backlog, or it could be that Jansen simply liked to do things old school with paper and ink.
He closed the door behind Bas, and pointed Suzanna to the chair behind a wooden table. There was the prerequisite video camera mounted in the corner, which he’d make sure was turned off for this little meeting. Not that he didn’t trust Jansen—whowas he kidding, he didn’t trust the guy one iota. He’d already proven to have a definitive dislike for Suzanna and a dislike for the FBI. Two strikes and they hadn’t even gotten to the meaty part of the interview yet.
Jansen walked in with two manila file folders stuffed with papers in his beefy hands, and a tall, gray-haired man in a suit and tie, with the top button undone. Gage recognized him as the Special Operations Division Major. He hadn’t expected to run into him, especially since they’d met on a prior operation. This might throw a monkey wrench into the mix if he called out Gage’s identification and credentials. Not that they were fake—they weren’t—but when he’d worked with him before, he’d been undercover and not with the FBI on that case.
“Gage, good to see you again. Detective Jansen mentioned your name, said you’re here interested in the Steven Dawkins investigation.”
Gage stood and held out his hand. “Juan, good to see you too. As I mentioned to your detective, I’ve been asked to look into the case, provide any assistance I can. Unofficially, of course. Mrs. Dawkins agreed to come in and answer any questions Detective Jansen or you might have. She will provide her full cooperation. We are all on the same page, we want to find the person who murdered Steven Dawkins and bring them to justice.”
“Excellent. Well, I’ll let you get to your meeting. I have to deal with a stack of paperwork as high as your head. That’s the part of the job I hate.” He turned to Jansen. “Please cooperative fully with Mr. Newsome. If you need anything, come and see me.” With a nod to everyone, the division chief left.
“Let’s get started. I’d like to ask Mrs. Dawkins’ about—”
“I’d like to discuss your findings before you question Mrs. Dawkins. And I have a few questions of my own that we’ll go over once you’re finished.” Gage watched Jansen’s face turn beet red at the deliberate interruption. He’d already figured out Jansenwas the type who wanted to command the room, wanted to dominate any conversation. Prove he was the big dog with the biggest bite. Poor schmuck had no idea who he was dealing with.
“You don’t understand, Mr. Newsome, this is the first time Mrs. Dawkins has agreed to answer questions since—”
“That’s blatantly untrue, detective. I answered your questions when you were at my house. While I was still in shock over finding my husband’s body, I might add. I answered your questions when I came to the station and did a formal interview, right up to the point where my attorney refused to let me any answer further questions, because you outright accused me of murdering my husband, and wanted to arrest me on the spot. So, don’t accuse me of not answering or dodging your questions.” Suzanna primly folded her hands on top of the table, a demure smile on her lips. Gage wanted to guffaw at Jansen’s frustrated expression.
“People, let’s not get started on the wrong foot. Detective, why don’t you outline for me the evidence you’ve compiled, without any accusations or interruptions,” Gage deliberately looked at Suzanna when he said that, hoping she’d get the hint. “This is an unofficial, off the record simple meeting of the minds.”
“Fine.” Jansen opened his folder, and pulled out several pages. “Steven Dawkins was killed. Multiple stabs to the neck, torso, and abdomen. There was a deep slash wound across the neck, severing the jugular and the carotid arteries. A knife was found on the floor covered with blood. The coroner, after examination of the body and the blade, stated that the knife was the weapon used to inflict the multiple wounds.”
