“What people?”
“Criminals,” I say, stating what seems obvious. “And it doesn’t matter at this point. He’s dead. IA closed the case. As for Roberts, could he have done something while working for him that angered someone enough to put his life on the line? Yes. Of course he could have. Could it be a coincidence that it happened now, while this case was hot? Yes. Maybe. But how did Newman know about my father?”
“The mayor?” he suggests.
“Would IA allow that to slip to the mayor?”
“Captain Moore doesn’t like the mayor, but if I remember correctly, your father was pretty darn chummy with him.”
“Yeah. Yeah, he was, and believe it or not, I actually thought that was a good thing.”
He snorts. “As good as bourbon and milk.” He shows mercy on me and changes the topic from my father. “On a slightly different note,” he says, “Chuck tried to find a connection between your father and these cases and came up dry.”
My cell phone rings and I glance at the number; my spine instantly goes ramrod stiff. “My apartment office.” I glance at the clock. “It’s almost midnight.” I punch the answer button. “Detective Samantha Jazz.”
“It’s Tabitha from the office.”
“Hi, Tabitha,” I say, eyeing Lang. “It’s late. Did you wake up from a bad dream and have something new to share with us?”
“Well, no. Not really, but yes.” She laughs nervously. “Sorry. That sounded absolutely stupid. Let me try again. We have a new foot patrolman who started tonight. One of the tenants came to him and told him an unknown man entered your building a few minutes ago.”
“A strange man is in my building,” I say, letting Lang know what’s going on.
He curses and stands up, tossing money onto the table.
I’m already grabbing my bag and doing the same. “Do you have a description?” I ask Tabitha as Lang and I head for the door.
“I don’t. This just happened and I confess, I was asleep when the call came in. I’m trying to get a grip on the full story. This really may be nothing. Thanks to Mrs. Crawford telling everyone to be on alert, the tenants seem to be a bit paranoid right now. But for safety’s sake, we did call the police.”
“Have your patrolman meet me at my building,” I say, and we exit to the street. “I’ll be right there.”
Chapter 54
Lang calls for extra patrol support on the way to my apartment and instructs them to search for a man in a hoodie and baseball cap. Of course, we have no description of the man lurking about, but we both can assume who this person is. It seems that I went to Newman’s place, stirred up trouble, and now he’s making me as uncomfortable as possible. Next, Lang calls the patrol watching Newman, and I catch a few pieces of the conversation. “He slipped by you,” Lang snaps. “Go confirm I’m right, because I am.” He disconnects, an angry scowl on his face. “‘Watch him’ meant ‘watch him,’” he complains. Apparently, that was too much to ask.
We arrive at my building to find a patrol unit already present and chatting with a security guard. The two cops are both bald, one tall and one short. I don’t know this bald duo at all, and I don’t have time to know them right now. Lang echoes that sentiment by getting right to the point. He flashes his badge. “Detective Langford.” He motions to me. “Detective Sam Jazz.”
The tall bald cop blinks. “I thought Sam was a man.”
I wave off that comment that is old and overdone too many times in my life, dating back well before I joined law enforcement. I’m focused on my job right now. The end. I size up the guard, a stocky Hispanic man, who I estimate to be in his early thirties. His name tag reads “Daniel.” The tattoo on his arm reads TS, which is the Texas Syndicate, a gang. I’ll have questions about Daniel that I’ll ask later.
“Who called in the concern?” Lang asks.
“A tenant is all I know,” Daniel says. “The office manager called me.”
“Did you”—I motion to the two officers as well—“or any of you get a look at this man?”
“No,” Daniel replies for the group. “I got the call and came here. I searched the building but saw no one. The police were waiting when I exited the building.”
I shove aside my jacket, hands settling on my waist. “Do we at least have a description?”
Daniel replies again. “I was told that he was in a hoodie and baseball cap.”
Lang immediately motions to the two cops who haven’t been much help. “Go search.”
They back away and disappear, and I focus on Daniel. “Call the office and find out who reported this.” I’m already turning away from him, assuming his compliance despite that tattoo, and motioning Lang toward my building. “I need a look at the film from the cameras Wade installed.”