Caffeine & Killers (Roasted Love Cozy 3)

We headed back to our cars. He kissed me, and I regretted that our perfect time together had to end. I saw the same emotion in his eyes.

While he drove off, I headed back home feeling relaxed and happy. I hoped it would last a while.

# # #

Back at home minutes later, the calls began again. I tried Daniel’s suggestion and returned the first call right away. Amazingly, it seemed to go through, but then was immediately cut off.

No more calls came until around ten p.m., when they started once more. I turned the phone off. Thor settled on the floor next to my bed and I made sure my apartment was securely locked. I drifted off into a restful sleep.

The next morning, I picked up my phone and turned it back on. It showed that the unknown calls had continued until around one a.m. After that, whoever it was apparently got the message that I wasn’t going to pick up and the calls stopped.

Chapter Twenty One

My next goal was to find out where Ricky Thomas had been taken when arrested. I didn't have to work the next day until eleven, so I called Chief Donald Hayes and he told me he'd have time to see me around nine.

We sat across from one another in his office. His hair was newly trimmed and after he greeted me, he shifted comfortably in his chair. "I’m sure you want to talk about your homeless friend, Laila. But I can tell you there's no new information."

"I don’t have anything new, either," I said. "What I want to ask you right now is whether anyone in your department recently arrested someone named Ricky Thomas."

The chief didn’t ask questions. Instead, he got up and went to his file cabinet in the corner. Without a word, he came to the T files, thumbed through several of them, and turned back to me.

"I don’t see anyone by that name in here. These are the recent ones." He called his secretary and asked if someone by that name was in her computer files, but I could tell from his expression that there was no "Ricky Thomas" listed at the precinct house. "He hasn’t been arrested," he said.

"What about a 'Richard'?" I asked.

Chief Hayes shook his head. "There's no one with the last name of Thomas listed as a recent arrest." He looked up at me. "What is your interest?"

"Well – Ricky Thomas is someone I talked to about John. Homeless John. When I had more questions, I went back downtown looking for him but I didn't see him. A man on the corner told me he'd been arrested."

"I’m sure he did tell you that, but they cover for each other down there," said the chief. "Thomas could be laying low for a while if he's having a problem with somebody – especially law enforcement. They won’t snitch on each other unless there's something in it for themselves."

I nodded. That made sense to me. The people on the street did seem to stick together down there. "I know what you mean. Maybe he's just hiding out."

"I take it you've gone down there more than once," said the Chief. "You can take my word for it – it's dangerous in that part of town."

I tried to smile. "It's okay. I've got pepper spray with me. And Thor."

"Thor?"

"My Doberman."

"I see."

Chief Hayes leaned back in his chair. He studied me, and I got the feeling he was deciding whether to chew me out or just tell me to stop interfering in police business.

"Laila, I know you aren’t convinced that Homeless John died by his own hand. But I can tell you that we haven’t found anything that tells us any different."

He leaned forward and clasped his hands. "He had taken sleeping pills along with the heroin. That combination can easily kill anyone."

I opened my mouth to object, but I knew it was no use trying to convince him again that John was not on drugs. He had his evidence and that’s what counted.

I took a different tack and told him about my visit with Steven Wilkins at Maxfield. "Steven swears the drugs were planted in his apartment. He also told me there was no scenario where he attempted to sell to an undercover agent."

"If that’s really the case, then his lawyer should be doing something about proving his innocence," said the chief.

I sighed. We both knew that Steven’s lawyer was court appointed. Sometimes when that happened, the client got the short end of the stick justice-wise. I hadn't thought to ask Steven about his lawyer. But even with knowing him as little as I did, I felt the same allegiance to him as I had to John.

Unfortunately, the longer I talked to the Chief, the more I realized I was like Linda: all hearsay and no proof.