Page 14 of Ride the Lightning
Jonah knocked on Malcolm’s door.
“Come in,” the deputy director said.
Jonah twisted the knob and opened the door.Here goes nothingwas his first thought, but he recalled how much was truly at stake—jeopardizing his career by breaking protocol, rectifying injustice, and getting peace for a dear friend Jonah wasn’t ready to say goodbye to yet.
Here goes everything.
“Jonah, this is a pleasant surprise,” the deputy director said jovially, greeting him more like a favorite uncle than a powerfully ranked member of the bureau. Smiling, he gestured for Jonah to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.
Charlie Malcolm was the kind of guy who maintained a youthful appearance well past the time most men started exhibiting crow’s feet and laugh lines. He’d only recently started showing a bit of wear and tear, and his blond hair had begun to gray at the temples. If Jonah hadn’t known better, he would’ve guessed the deputy director was forty years old instead of approaching sixty.
Jonah knew a brilliant mind lurked behind the sparkling blue eyes and brilliant smile though. The deputy director had worked in law enforcement for almost four decades, starting as a sheriff’s deputy in Fulton County before moving back home and accepting a position with the Savannah Police Department. His first partner with SPD was a rookie cop named Ellen St. John. Everyone had expected Malcolm to climb the ladder at the police department, but he’d chosen to pursue a new path with the Georgia Bureau of Investigation instead, climbing to the second-highest rank in the department. His former partner, now Ellen Rigby, ascended to the highest rung at the SPD and wore her police commissioner title with much pride.
Malcolm had quipped more than once that his job was more on the political end of the spectrum instead of law and order these days. He performed the balance brilliantly, and it was only a matter of time before Malcolm became the director of the Georgia Bureau of Investigations. Jonah wished the office pool wagered on when the current director would retire instead of people guessing when he’d “Hulk out.”
“Thanks for seeing me, sir,” Jonah replied. “I won’t take much of your time.”
The deputy director shook his head and sighed. “How many times do I need to tell you to call me Malcolm when it’s just the two of us?”
“At least once more, sir,” Jonah joked.
“Fine. Have it your way,” Malcolm said. “What can I do for you?”
Knowing the director was a busy man, Jonah got straight to the point. He filled Malcolm in on everything he knew so far, sticking to facts and leaving out Marla’s hunches and his conjecture. Cops trust their own instincts but weren’t as eager to rely on anyone else’s. Jonah watched as the deputy director morphed from friendly uncle to intrigued lawman to shrewd politician in a matter of minutes. Jonah couldn’t blame him. If he was correct, and he’d bet his next paycheck on it, reopening the case could have huge repercussions. Malcolm would need hard proof before he would be willing to take steps that could tarnish a lawman’s reputation and bring unwanted attention on their agency or the police department.
“You have my attention,” Malcolm said once Jonah finished.
“Sir, I can’t see any other course of action except to reopen the Ison investigation.”
Malcolm placed his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers. “How certain are you of these facts, Jonah? What if Bo Cahill’s arrest dates were entered into the computer incorrectly? Say the person transposed a number or used the wrong month. For the first ten years of marriage, I thought my wife’s birthday was March fifteenth instead of May fifteenth. Danielle would smile and tell me it was better to receive a birthday gift two months early than two months late. Still, it’s a miracle Danielle and I celebrated our thirty-fifth anniversary this past weekend.”
“Congratulations, sir.”
“Thank you, Jonah,” Malcolm said, briefly slipping back into fond uncle mode before continuing. “What if he had been released on bail, but the details weren’t properly documented.”
Jonah wanted to dispute Malcolm’s suggestion, but, how could he? Someone might have entered dates incorrectly or only included partial information. “Can I at least have your permission to request a copy of the file from DeKalb County?”
“Have you spoken to Trexler about this?” Malcolm asked, his right brow arching toward his hairline. “You know that is the proper chain of command.”
Jonah barely bit back a frustrated groan. “I do know, sir, but you have to agree Supervisory Agent Trexler isn’t very open to my suggestions.” Trexler had a habit of dialing back his criticism of Jonah when Malcolm was present, but his contempt had been barely veiled the previous day.
“I know you think it’s the case,” Malcolm countered. Jonah wanted to ask the deputy director to name one idea of Jonah’s that Trexler had liked, but the older man held up a hand before he could form the words. “Look, I know you have a strained relationship with Butch, but going behind his back will do nothing to repair the fractures. He will view our conversation as an act of insubordination and could write you up for breaching protocol, and he’d be well within his right.”
Jonah recognized a losing battle when he saw one. He’d be wise to retreat to his office and come up with another battle plan to deal with Trexler instead of risking his good standing with the deputy director. “I understand, sir. I will take your advice. Thank you for your time.”
“Hold up,” Malcolm said when Jonah started to rise.
“Yes, sir?” he asked, sitting back down in the chair.
“I’m curious how you found out about this case? Was it something introduced through your podcast?” Malcolm asked.
“No,” Jonah said, shaking his head. “Earl Ison and I have a mutual friend who was recently diagnosed with stage four liver cancer. She never believed that Bo Cahill killed Earl and would like to see the real killer brought to justice before she dies.”
The deputy director’s blue eyes softened, and he was back to Uncle Charlie again. “It’s a noble thing you’re doing for your friend. Talk to Trexler, Jonah. I will back you up if he asks me for my opinion. He might surprise you.”
I won’t hold my breath. “Thank you, sir.”
Desiree smiled at Jonah when he exited Malcolm’s office. “Avery stopped by with this,” she said, handing him an interoffice envelope. “He thought you might need it for your meeting.”