Page 31

FAITH

F inally home from work, and away from Oscar, I stared at my phone for a long time before dialing Coulter’s number. My heart pounded as it rang. I felt super guilty for bombarding him at the marina. The bitterness in his voice and the hurt in his eyes made me think he’d never forgive me.

“What now?” Coulter answered, gruff and obviously pissed off.

“Hey,” I began, my voice trembling. “I’m sorry about blindsiding you at work.”

“Faith, I don’t need your apologies,” he snapped.

“What I need is for you to stop playing games. You run hot and cold and I can’t keep up.

” His voice vibrated in anger. “You wish I had told you about driving up and down the street? Maybe I wish you trusted me a little bit more, so I might feel safe enough to tell you that. ”

“I do trust you,” I insisted, “But Oscar doesn’t. And unfortunately evidence keeps popping up that fuels his suspicions.”

“Evidence?” he scoffed. “What about the definitive evidence that showed someone else actually committed the crime? Those were your words, Faith. But your words don’t mean anything, just like the DNA that should have let me off the hook.

” Coulter’s voice shook, and hurt my heart.

“Or that night and day we spent together.”

Ouch. I felt terrible for giving him false hope, but it’s what I believed at the time. Otherwise I’d never have slept with him. “Coulter, I know you’re frustrated. But you have to understand that withholding evidence just makes it harder on yourself.”

“Well, it’s all out in the open now,” he said with an angry tone.

“Are you sure? Is there anything else you omitted? Because if there is, you should bring it out voluntarily now.”

“Is that why you called? To see if I was hiding anything else?” His voice rose, anxious and angry.

“You have to understand, harboring secrets makes you seem guilty, even if you're not.”

“If? Really? Do you think I might have done it?”

“No, I meant,” I tried to explain I was speaking hypothetically, but Coulter shouted over me.

“I don’t have any secrets, Faith. And I’m not a fucking murderer. You know what, forget it. I’m not doing this any more. Forget you ever met me. I don’t need this. I don’t need you. "

His words hit me like a dagger right through my heart. "Coulter, please—"

"No, we’re done. Don’t call me again," he said, and the line went dead.

I stood there for a second, just staring at the phone in my hand before I collapsed on the couch.

Before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face.

Sadness and frustration overwhelmed me and I couldn’t hold back the gut-wrenching sobs.

I curled around a pillow, hugging it close to my chest and burying my face in the soft chenille.

I barely registered the sound when my phone rang again. Wiping my eyes, and swallowing back my sobs, I glanced at the caller ID, hoping it was Coulter. Instead, I saw Monroe County Police Department. Anyone at the station was the last person I wanted to talk to.

“Detective Pierce,” I answered, trying to keep my voice steady. I wouldn’t let them hear me cry.

“Faith, I have some good news,” Louis said eagerly.

“That’s great, Louis,” I sniffled, sitting up straight. “I could use some.”

“I found Frank Jenkins. He lives with his daughter in Orlando.”

“Oh, that’s amazing,” I said, standing up to find my notepad.

“Not for her,” Louis chuckled. “She must have the patience of a saint. Be glad he retired long before you came to the Keys. That guy was a piece of work.”

Not really interested in Officer Jenkins’s temperament, I redirected. “So you have his contact for me? ”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” I jotted the phone number down as Louis continued. “And don’t worry, I won’t mention this to the Sheriff. Or anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”

I cringed. This is not how I liked to operate. I didn’t coerce coworkers into hiding things from superiors. But I had to smile at Louis’s misplaced loyalty. “Thanks, Louis. I’ll tell him myself after it all pans out.”

“Good luck. I hope Frank has mellowed with retirement. Let me know if you need anything else.”

It was only seven o’clock, not too late to call. I tucked my feet under me on the sofa and dialed the number. After the second ring, a raspy voice answered, “Hello.”

“Officer Jenkins?” I asked.

“Nobody’s called me that in a while,” he chuckled. “Yeah, this is Frank Jenkins.”

“Hi Frank. I’m Detective Faith Pierce with the Monroe County PD. Sorry to bother you. Is this a good time?”

“Good as any. It’s all the same when you’re retired. What can I do for you Detective?”

My lips curled in a smile. He didn’t seem at all like Louis portrayed him to be. “I need to ask about a domestic violence call that you responded to, around Christmas eight years ago. It involved a Coulter Rodman,” I said, getting straight to the point.

Jenkins was quiet, thinking back I imagined. “Spencer’s boy?”

His answer reminded me just how small this town was, and heightened the suspicion that there was some sort of coverup. “That’s right. Do you remember the call? It was a domestic dispute. ”

“Yeah, I remember that night. A neighbor called it in. When we got there, the place was a mess. Broken dishes and picture frames all over the floor. The Rodman boy was there, trying to calm his girlfriend. She was hysterical. They were both intoxicated.”

I bit my lip. This wasn’t sounding good. “You took him in. Why?”

“She was wailing, like you wouldn’t believe. And I thought I saw a red mark on her cheek. Probably from all that crying. Who knows? But it was a misunderstanding.”

There was that word again. Misunderstanding. But it ended with Coulter in jail and never charged. Something wasn’t right. “And yet you took him in?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know what else to do at the time. I couldn’t leave him there and have her turn up dead the next morning.”

A chill ran through me. I smoothed the standing hairs on my forearms. “Did the victim say that he was violent toward her?”

“No, she said he hadn’t hit her. But I’m sure you know that’s not uncommon in domestic violence situations,” he added defensively.

“But you didn’t arrest him?”

“No, I just wanted to let him sleep it off.”

“So you took the threat of domestic violence seriously enough that you felt the need to remove him from the scene, but didn’t book him? That’s highly unusual.”

There was a long pause before he answered. “Once I got him to the station, I started to book him. But another officer told me to wait. Next thing I knew they’d taken the boy to a holding cell and told me they’d take care of it.”

“Who was that?”

The long silence on the line was telling. Finally, he said, “I don’t recall.”

Yeah right. I started to call him out and press harder, but he continued.

“The girlfriend showed up early the next morning just at the end of my shift, hollering that we’d better let him go.

She looked me square in the eye and said ‘I told you last night that he didn’t hit me.

Why did you take him to jail?’ I tried to explain that it was protocol in a DV case.

But she was fit to be tied. They told me not to worry about it and to go on home. ”

“And do you recall who told you that?”

“I don’t,” he said without hesitation, but that didn’t make it believable. Frank was loyal to the code. He wasn’t going to implicate anyone on the force. But his story matched Coulter’s to a tee.

I let out a relieved breath. “Thank you Officer Jenkins, this helps a lot. And you’d testify to this in court?”

After another long pause, he said, hesitantly, “It was a long time ago.”

Now we were talking perjury, so he was backpedalling like a motherfucker. I’d get the DA to subpoena his ass if I had to. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. “I understand, Officer. Thank you so much for your time.”

“Happy to help.” Just as I was about to click to end the call, he asked, “Detective? Why are you asking about that night after all these years? ”

I bit my lip, debating whether to be forthcoming. But Kylie’s death was public record. “The girlfriend was murdered a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh dear lord.” He sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s awful. Were they still together?”

“No, they broke up a couple of years after that incident.”

Officer Jenkins sighed. “He was a nice kid. I’d bet a hundred dollars he had nothing to do with it.”

If only my partner had an ounce of Officer Jenkins’s resolve. I had to sound impartial, though. “We’re just exploring every lead.”

“I hope you don’t waste much more time on this one.”

“Thanks again for your help,” I said. “Have a nice evening.”

Trying to clear Coulter’s name was anything but a waste of time.