Page 32 of I Do, or Dye Trying
I laughed so hard that I nearly fell out of my downward dog position. “Are you saying I’m getting man boobs?” I asked Savage.
“Talking to the bird is one thing, but expecting him to answer back is another,” Gabe said, startling me.
“Oh! I didn’t know you were home yet. I, um…”
“Was laughing so hard at your ridiculous bird that you didn’t hear me come in,” he finished for me with a faint smile. It was then that I saw the stress lines surrounding his eyes and lips.
“What happened, babe?” I rose to my feet and went to him. “You were supposed to be home a few hours ago. I was worried but didn’t want to look like a nag so I didn’t call you. What happened after Detective Dirty Talker walked away from me on the side of the road?”
“I shouldn’t talk about it,” Gabe said, but I could tell that’s what he wanted to do.
“You listen to me, Gabriel. I know I seem flighty at times and my salon is a hot den of gossip, but I would never betray your trust. Sit down, let me grab you a cold beer, and you can tell me what the hell happened. You always call me when you’re going to be late,” I said on my way to the refrigerator. “This must be a big deal.”
“Thanks, Sunshine,” he said softly when I sat beside him. He accepted the beer and took a long drink. “Fuck, what a day.”
“You were in such a good mood,” I said, running my fingers through his silky, dark hair that still needed a trim.
“Sometimes, you fucking hate the answers when you find them, Sunshine. Fucking hate them. You start to question everything you know and everything you ever believed.” I’d never heard Gabe sound so distraught and it worried me. I knew he’d tell me when he was ready so I continued to massage his scalp and wait while he drank his beer. “Prosecutor Buxton needed us to find a motive for Broadman. She wanted hardcore evidence and not supposition so that she could get a confession out of Broadman rather than go to trial.”
“You guys already tried to get a confession, right?” I asked, a little confused.
“Yeah, but a prosecuting attorney has a lot more clout than a cop,” Gabe said. “She wanted enough evidence to threaten him with the death penalty. We had a meeting about it last week and came up with a reasonable motive for the crimes that Broadman committed. Proving it wasn’t going to be easy. We needed a miracle.”
“And you got it,” I said, “but sort of wish you hadn’t.”
“We were right, it was all about the land,” Gabe told me. “He knew the casino wasn’t going to happen the first time around but worried that it would the second time, especially with a new player.”
“Nate?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Broadman hired the son of his childhood friend to try and scare Nate away from buying the land. He couldn’t be too specific about his threats for fear that Spizer, who had introduced the two men during a conference call, might get suspicious. This kid was busted for hacking into his college computers to change his grades, and his family hired Broadman—an old friend—to get him out of trouble. That bastard put a bullet in the kid’s head once he was no longer useful, Josh. He was only twenty years old.”
“I’m so sorry, Gabe.” He didn’t acknowledge me, so I wasn’t sure he even heard me. Then he squeezed my thigh, and I knew he was just processing what to say next.
“He killed Robertson because he figured it was just a matter of time before he sold the land to someone else. First, it was going to be a subdivision until Broadman convinced the older man that his nephews were going to get paid bonuses from the deal. Robertson backed out. He figured that was the end of it, but no, the casino deal was next. He decided not to take a chance and killed that elderly man then burned his house down in hopes that we didn’t find the letter from that Larkin guy from McCarren Consortium.”
“What about Spizer?” I asked.
“He wasn’t willing to risk Spizer piecing the puzzle together and sending him to prison once the farmer’s death was ruled a homicide. He went to his old friend’s house and killed him, but dressed it up to look like a suicide. I know why Broadman wanted Spizer to write the confession, but I don’t know why Spizer agreed to do it. He had to know he was going to die anyway so why hurt his wife even more?”
“Maybe he was hoping to buy time and prayed for a miracle,” I offered.
“Maybe,” Gabe said, but I could tell he wasn’t convinced. “I think it was more like he truly felt responsible since he was the one who introduced Broadman and Nate. His note said he was responsible for their deaths, not that he killed them. Broadman probably assured him that no one else would get hurt. Maybe he even threatened to harm Spizer’s wife if he didn’t go along with it. Either way, Broadman talked him into writing that note then killed him.”
“Sounds like you got your confession, Gabe.”
“Yeah, I did, but not until after I had the rug ripped out from beneath my feet.” Gabe shook his head as if he still didn’t comprehend it all. “No matter how many times I connected the dots, there was always one part that didn’t make sense to me. Nate said that his harassment increased once he went to the police about the threats. Why? How’d the person harassing him know that he went to the police? Was he followed? Did the hacker also implant a virus that let him track Nate’s email communications? Or worse?”
“Worse?” I asked because what could be… “Oh.”
“I didn’t want to believe it, Sunshine. I asked Sergeant Dawkins to cross-reference phone numbers on the victim’s call logs to see if I could prove that Broadman was contacting them on a burner phone. He wasn’t calling them from his home, office, or known cell phone, so we suspected that he found an alternative method to contact them. Dorchester, Whitworth, and I all went to stores that sold phones and prepaid minutes to try and find a witness that could confirm our theory. None of us found the right store or the right clerk, so we thought we struck out,” Gabe said dazedly.
“But Sonia didn’t strike out, did she?” I asked. She’d always been a girl with a sharp brain and IT skills to match.
“She isolated the burner number and obtained a warrant for the records while we were out in the field. She ran all the phone numbers, and one came back as the cell phone for a Cincinnati police officer.” Gabe was staring sightlessly across the room, his eyes not focusing on anything as his brain struggled to comprehend. He’d once told me there was nothing worse than a dirty cop. I could tell his disappointment was on a personal level.
“Paul?” I asked. His only answer was a brief nod.
Gabe blinked a few times then turned his head to look at me. “Captain Reardon contacted Internal Affairs, and he was brought in for questioning. Paul said he had no knowledge of Broadman’s intentions when he passed along the information confirming that Nate had filed harassment charges with the police department. Broadman and Paul met and hooked up a few times at Nate’s club and had gotten chummy after Nate and Broadman first met regarding the casino. He said he knew nothing else about the situation, but I’m not sure I believe him.”