Mary Jane's Grave (19 page)

I was meeting Simone at a downtown coffee house where we would discuss our strategy on approaching Meghan. I found Simone instantly. Her striking Latina appearance and almost five-foot- ten- inch height made her stand out in a crowd. I’ve never been one to envy the look of another female, but after being with Simone for less than five minutes, I began to feel like a frump. She startled me with her own opinion.

“God, CeeCee, you blonde bombshell…every time I’m around you, I feel like a freakin’ plain Jane.” She eyed me up and down. “You weigh, what? Ninety pounds? You’re not allowed to count your ten pounds of boobs either.”

I laughed out loud. “Oh, whatever! I was just wondering if
you
got done sashaying your booty down the catwalk, Miss Supermodel!”

Women; no matter where we are or what we’re doing, we always find time to be catty or complimentary, whichever applies at the time.

Simone was quite eager to come face- to- face with Meghan Dearth. Not as eager as I was, though. Simone had been busy while I was driving here. She had already located Meghan’s law office and determined that she was working today. Her last name was now Micelli, which happened to be one of the names of the firm.

“She’s a partner?” I said, as Simone and I sat sipping cappuccinos.

“Nah, her hubby is, some guy she probably laid as an intern fresh out of law school. From what you’ve told me about her, I’d say I’m right. I’d heard the name of the firm before—Micelli, Giabaldi and Farrino—so I called the local feds. They’ve investigated them before but never got anything to stick. The bottom line is they’re dirty.”

“There’s a shocker,” I mused.

“I’m anxious to get over there and ruin their day. I love to fuck with lawyers.” Simone drained her cup.

The offices of Micelli, Giabaldi and Farrino occupied the first and second floors of the Striker Tower. In the middle of downtown, the Striker Tower was a forty-three-story high rise, which rented space mainly to law and accounting firms.

When we walked in, I immediately headed to the restroom just off the lobby. When I came out and went to the law firm’s offices, Simone was already there.

“She’s waiting for us and, as you can imagine, didn’t sound too thrilled.”

“Did you talk to her?”

“No, Jimmy the Greek over there called up to her.” Simone pointed to a dark-haired man in a black suit who wore more gold jewelry than any rapper I’d ever seen. “Miss Meghan
Death
is on the second floor with the other big cheeses, probably in the middle of a lunchtime blow job as we speak.”

Meghan’s office was almost at the end of a long hallway. The partners were down a little bit farther. Her secretary told us to go in her office and when we entered I wasn’t the least bit surprised at what I saw. Neither was Simone.

Meghan was seated at her desk surrounded by four other men in black suits and gold jewelry. She had called for reinforcements in an obvious attempt to intimidate us. Nice try, honey, but I’ve gone up against much worse than this, I thought. I knew Simone had too, and knowing her, she was telling herself, This is gonna be fun!

After Simone introduced herself and then me, she plopped into the chair in front of Meghan’s desk and stretched her arms out.

“Really, gentlemen, I know we’re special and all, but you shouldn’t have put this much effort into giving us a party. Where’s the wine and cheese?” She looked around the office while I suppressed a smile.

Meghan remained quiet. She didn’t look the same as her high school picture. She used to be pretty. Now it looked as if years of partying, and most likely drug use, had taken its toll; she looked rough. Her brown hair was severely pulled back into a bun, and she wore enough makeup for the entire cast of a Broadway play.

A tall, thin man in his late thirties, who was standing right next to Meghan, spoke first.

“I’m not amused, Detective, and I’m sure your superior officer won’t be either when I call him.” He glared at Simone, who smiled right back. “Now, Sergeant Gallagher, you can either tell us what this is all about, or you may leave these offices right now.”

“Gentlemen, there’s really no need to get quite so uptight.” I tried to lower their defenses somewhat. “I’m here to ask Meghan a few questions about a crime that occurred in Mansfield in 1986, a crime that she’s well aware of.”

The tall man, who I now assumed to be Meghan’s husband, shot her a look of confusion while her face turned a deep shade of crimson. Like Nicole, Meghan’s husband didn’t have a clue. Like Simone, I had the inclination that this
was
going to be fun.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sergeant. You’ve obviously made a mistake, not that I’m surprised by that, but we are extremely busy here,” she said haughtily.

Simone raised her eyebrow at the “mistake” comment, but I kept smiling. Meghan Dearth, as I suspected, hadn’t changed—except for the worse, if that was possible.

“I’m sure you’re busy, Mrs. Micelli, so I won’t take up much of your time.” I eyed the other men. “You know, I’m all about confidentiality, but if you’d like me to discuss this in front of these gentlemen, I don’t have a problem with that.” I kept smiling, talking in a disgustingly innocent voice; Simone quietly snickered.

I waited and stared at Meghan, knowing I had just made her life hell by having to decide whether to air her dirty laundry in front of her coworkers or only her husband. The anxiety that washed over her face dissipated within seconds.

She smiled and looked back at her coworkers. “Gentlemen, I remember what this is about and it’s nothing. I’m sorry I bothered you. You can go. There is no problem.” She looked back at me. “Sergeant, we’ll talk here in a few minutes. Would you like a cup of coffee?” Her eyes narrowed into slits as she made a conscious effort to maintain her smile.

“No, thank you.” I continued to lock eyes with hers.

The other suits looked at one another in confusion before the nod from Meghan’s husband assured them it was okay to leave. Meghan seemed to breathe a sigh of relief until she saw that Micelli had no intention of leaving.

“Frank, I’m fine. You can go,” she said nervously.

“I’m staying.”

Her eyes begged him to leave, but he ignored it. In-stead, Frank stood against a wall of law books and crossed his arms. Simone and I were both amused during the exchange. However, I didn’t want to be here all day.

“All right, Meghan. May I call you Meghan?” She nodded. “I’d like to get started so we can get out of your hair and let you get back to your extremely busy schedule,” I said.

After her last attempt to silently ask her husband to leave failed, Meghan nodded. “Go ahead.”

“I’m here because there has been another murder and an attack at Mary Jane’s Grave.” I watched her face pale considerably. “There were quite a few similarities between this murder and the murder you and your friends were tried for.”

Frank Micelli came off the wall. “What the hell are you talking about? What murder?” He looked from me to Meghan.

Meghan picked up a pen and began nervously playing with it. Her hands were trembling. “Frank, please, I’ll explain it later. I was a kid, and I was found not guilty because I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“She’s right, Frank,” I intervened. “She was found not guilty, but I don’t know about the ‘didn’t do anything wrong’ part. I’d say you did plenty wrong, Meghan.”

She stood up in a rage. “Sergeant, I was tried and acquitted by a court of law for that crime—a crime I did
not
commit! If you’re here to retry that case, your dumb ass should know it’s double jeopardy, and you two cunts can just get the fuck out!”

Frank, apparently used to his wife’s outbursts judging by his unaffected demeanor, spoke to his wife in an authoritative voice that spread terror across her face. It didn’t take a genius to realize he probably beat the shit out of her when they were home. He just looked like the type.

“Sit down, Meghan. You sit there and you listen, and you don’t say a fucking word, understand?”

I remained calm. “Meghan, I’m not here to retry a murder case against you. My dumb ass is well aware of double jeopardy. However, I was wondering if you had kept in touch with Daniel Griffin.”

Meghan looked at her husband, apparently for approval to answer the question. He nodded.

“I hardly knew him and haven’t seen him since the trial.”

“You hardly knew him? Huh…” I started randomly looking through the Melissa Drake murder file. “You mean the fact that you gave him oral sex and engaged in sexual intercourse with him on a regular basis only deems him an acquaintance? Is that what you’re saying?”

Her face grew red again and she answered without approval from Frank. “That is a lie I’m sure you heard from Nicole Harstein. Nicole was always jealous of me and got angry when I didn’t want to be friends with her after the trial. She got angry because she had to go back to being the loser that she always was before she met me. As for your innuendoes regarding Daniel Griffin, I don’t nor have I ever had sex with someone for my own personal gain. I can only deduce that you asked me that because it’s something you, yourself, are familiar with.” Her eyes narrowed again and she smiled. “Fucking an FBI agent to get promoted to sergeant is quite a feat.”

Before I could explode, Simone piped up, “Is that how you got promoted, CeeCee?” she quipped, trying to calm me down. “Goddamn. I’ll have to try that. I don’t want to be a detective forever, you know.” She leaned over and gave me a high- five.

Simone’s ploy worked, since I couldn’t help but laugh and shake my head. Meghan’s smile faded when she realized Simone got the best of her.

“Are you two bitches finished?” Meghan grumbled.

“Now, Mrs. Micelli, there’s no need to be rude,” Simone answered.

“Almost.” I was ready. “I just have a few more questions, the first of which is: When you took a pine tree branch and brutally raped Melissa Drake with it, was she still alive?” I stayed focused on her.

“Get out now,” Meghan sneered through her clenched jaws.

I continued, “The reason I’m asking is, when I issue a warrant for your arrest, I need to verify that she was still technically alive. I know she was dead when you continued to bash her face in with a piece of a tombstone, so that covers the gross abuse of a corpse charge that’s also being filed, but what about the rape? Was she breathing?” I stayed calm.

“Frank! Get them out of here!” she screamed.

“Sergeant, no more questions. You need to leave.” He stayed composed. “I thought we already determined the application of double jeopardy in this case, and although I’d have to look to be sure, I’m pretty sure the statute of limitations is up.”

“She was tried for aggravated murder, not rape. And if you look at the Ohio Revised Code, you’ll see that the statute doesn’t begin until we are made aware of the crime itself.” I omitted the fact was documented in the autopsy. “Look it up, section F. There is solid new evidence that indicates your wife brutally raped a young girl before she helped murder her.”

Frank seemed dumbfounded, and I waited for him to ask how this sexual assault could have not been in the autopsy report. Apparently the veteran attorney was so taken aback by his wife’s past, it never occurred to him. One point for me. Meghan was standing up with a look of sheer horror and panic on her face. She was still shaking, and now she was sweating. I waited until I got to the door before I launched my last attack, subtle but powerful.

“Oh, Meghan, by the way, you and your friends should have been tried as adults and given the death penalty for what you did. However, I will have a warrant for your arrest by the end of the day for the crimes of rape and gross abuse of a corpse. This will be a warrant that even your daddy can’t get you out of. I
will
see you soon.” I smirked before walking out the door, but held my breath hoping she wasn’t on the phone to the prosecutors to confirm what I said was true.

“Well done, Sergeant,” Simone announced when we were in the hallway.

Before we left the building, Simone, always one for surprises, stopped in front of a group of lawyers.

“Excuse me, do any of you have a large mirror I can borrow?” They looked as confused as I was. “The reason I’m asking is before I start my car and blow my own ass off, I’d like to check underneath it for a bomb. No? Okay, I’ll guess I’ll just use my compact.”

She walked away leaving the group of men stunned. By the time I got to our car, I had tears in my eyes from laughing so hard. Simone was fumbling around inside her purse, looking for her keys, when my laughter stopped dead.

I happened to look at the front of the building just as Frank Micelli came barreling through the doors in a state of panic. He was headed right for us in a dead run. Only when I heard what he was yelling did I realize who he was after.

“Meghan! Noooooo!” he was screaming.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the gun barrel pointed toward Simone. Meghan was less than ten feet from her, holding a small revolver. Meghan’s eyes showed the depth of how mentally disturbed she truly was.

“Simone! Get down! Gun!” I screamed as I reached for my own weapon.

Simone had just enough time to drop before Meghan fired the first shot. Missing her head by mere centimeters, the bullet shattered the driver’s side window. By then, I was returning fire. Squatting behind the tire for cover, I fired two shots at Meghan, both hitting her directly in the chest, causing her to jerk backward while still holding the gun. When I heard another shot and saw a bullet strike Meghan square in the forehead, I realized Simone had gotten to her own gun.

The gun dropped from Meghan’s hand as she fell backward, hitting the pavement with a slight thud. Every nerve in my body on red alert, I swung the barrel of my gun directly toward Frank Micelli, who was now screaming at the sight of his wife’s dead body.

“Show me your hands!” He didn’t comply until I repeated myself. Hands out to his sides, he started walking toward Meghan’s body.

“Don’t fucking move! Stay right where you are!” Simone was now up, taking small steps toward him with her gun pointed out in front of her.

People all around us were screaming and yelling, and I could already hear the wail of oncoming sirens. It was difficult to get control at that point since Frank was screaming and the entire law firm full of thugs had emptied out into the parking lot. I thought Simone and I were about to have a major problem when I saw three Cincinnati Police cruisers scream into the parking lot. Feeling only a slight sense of relief, I checked on Simone.

“Are you hit?” I called out.

“Nope, A-okay. You?” She was holding her badge up over her head with her free hand, alerting the oncoming uniformed officers that she was on duty.

“I’m fine.”

Frank was still standing with his hands out to his sides when the uniformed officers came running to our aid.

“Check him for weapons and detain him,” Simone ordered.

The officers led Frank to one of the marked police cars, where they patted him down and put him in the backseat. Other officers had arrived by then and were keeping the lawyers at bay while trying to cordon off the area. Simone looked as shaken as I felt.

No matter how many shootings an officer gets into, it’s never easy. I felt the familiar pounding of my heart while my adrenaline pumped through my body, causing me to noticeably shake. As I started to settle down, the dizziness and nausea kicked in. I walked over to a curb and sat on it, taking long, deep breaths while I wiped the sweat from my brow. Having been through this several times before, I was familiar with the physiological effects that occur following a critical incident like this.

Simone, looking pale, walked over and sat next to me on the curb. We sat and stared at Meghan’s body for several minutes.

“Thanks, Sarge. I owe you one,” she said flatly.

“Always a pleasure.” I set my gun next to me.

“Homicide is on their way, along with every brass ass and administrative dickhead in the department.”

I felt myself cringe. The impact of where I was finally hit me. Of all the places to get into a shooting, Cincinnati had to be the worst. After the riots several years earlier in which a white police officer shot an unarmed black man, cops in Cincinnati get put through hell the minute they lay their hands on someone. I could only imagine the rain of shit that this incident would bring. As if reading my thoughts, Simone raised the issue.

“CeeCee,” she whispered, “we’ll be fine. The security cameras caught it all. If she was black,
and
a female, she could’ve walked out of there pointing a rocket launcher at us and we’d have gone to prison for life if we fired back,” she said cynically.

“Jesus, Simone! I went in there under false pretenses! I’m screwed because there was no warrant!” I shuddered at the thought.

“As far as I’m concerned we were in there inquiring as to the whereabouts of that Daniel fellow. That’s a legitimate interview for a current homicide investigation. If her husband says anything, I’ll simply say he was mistaken, under duress after finding out about his wife’s past. You told her you’d get a warrant for her arrest if she knew where Daniel is and wasn’t telling—a legitimate Obstructing Justice warrant. No worries, I got your back, sister.”

Her attempt at consolation wasn’t exactly making me feel better. Meghan was a female attorney, which would be bad enough. Looking around at the uniformed officers and men in suits walking around the scene, I realized how much I wanted my own people here. I asked Simone to get me a cell phone. I needed to call Naomi.

I didn’t tell her much, only that I had been involved in a fatal shooting and was okay. She was going to notify the chief and sheriff before calling me back. Before she hung up, I asked her to call Michael.

“Naomi, tell him I’m fine and he does
not
need to come down here. I’ll lose it if I see him,” I pleaded.

“I’ll try my best, but you know how he is.”

Naomi called me back within five minutes. The sheriff had called one of his contacts at Mansfield Lahm Airport. They would take a private plane down and be here within an hour. Michael, as expected, said he would be flying down as well and hung up on her before she could protest. Simone, overhearing my conversation, told me she would have two marked units ready to pick them up at the airport. I relayed this to Naomi, then remembered something.

“Naomi, make sure you bring me a union attorney.”

She was quiet for a minute. “You’ve never asked for the union before. Is something wrong down there, CeeCee?”

“Other than the fact I’m in Cincinnati, no.”

“I understand completely. I’ll take care of it. Before you hang up, I need to talk to whoever’s in charge of the scene down there.”

I handed Simone the phone and she took it over to the lieutenant of the homicide division. I had noticed when I was speaking to Naomi, Simone was on another cell phone briefly, whispering into it and looking around to make sure no one heard her.

I let out a long sigh and put my head in my hands. I couldn’t believe I’d just shot and killed Meghan Dearth. It was surreal. Nevertheless, my main concern continued to be the city police watchdog groups. They had so much power down here I shuddered at the thought of what lay ahead of me. I never had to worry about this sort of thing in Mansfield. Groups like the ACLU weren’t as strong, and they never overrode the credibility of law enforcement when it came to shootings in the line of duty. Even the ACLU rarely questioned an officer’s actions in Mansfield. But, again, I was in Cincinnati, and I was scared.

Simone, seeing my anguish, leaned over and began whispering in another attempt to cheer me up. Believe it or not, it worked.

“CeeCee, take a deep breath and relax.” She looked around and then leaned back over. “Phone calls are already being made as we speak. This will be cleared by the end of the week guaranteed, no grand jury, no watchdog groups, no prosecution. Trust me.”

I looked at her, my eyes wide. “How the hell could you possibly guarantee that?”

“I really didn’t want to tell you this but, what the hell. You know after I went through my divorce I kind of played the field. Anyhoo, to make a long story short, a couple times a month—by no means on a regular basis—I, uh…I, well, I’ve been sleeping with the mayor. That was him on the phone.”

My mouth fell open, and I just stared at her. Although thrilled, I was surprised at Simone. It seemed out of character for her.

“You’re sleeping with the mayor of Cincinnati?”

“Yup. Keep your voice down. Look, it’s not like I’m lying on my back to rise up the ranks. We met at a fund-raiser and kind of hit it off, and I like the guy. The fact that he’s married makes things that much easier, no strings attached.” She smiled. “It also helps in something like this. God forbid his wife finds out about us.”

“You threatened the mayor?” I was in awe.

“No, no, of course not. I didn’t need to. He was more than willing to have this cleared by the end of the week. I told him I’d make it worth it.” She winked.

I groaned. “No offense, Simone, but I hope you are the best lay that man has ever had.”

“No doubt about it, dear.”

Knowing full well the power of sex, I felt my fears begin to dissipate. The mayor would have to do what Simone said. She literally had him by his short hairs. I called Eric and explained what had happened. Then I talked to the girls.

I saw the first news helicopter flying over the parking lot about ten minutes before Naomi, the sheriff, the chief and my union attorney arrived. There were four more after that. Since I was involved, the press would have a field day. Fortunately, they always portrayed me in a positive light.

My superiors were a sight for sore eyes. Each was overly concerned about my emotional well- being. I spoke with my attorney at length, while the others talked with the upper echelons of the Cincinnati Police Department, including the chief of police. Once my attorney had the full story, I gave my statement to the lieutenant of the homicide division. They had the entire incident on the security video, so it wasn’t like my statement meant anything. All they had to do was watch it to see that neither I nor Simone had done Anything wrong.

The lieutenant was very kind, and I knew immediately he wasn’t going to make an issue of the shooting. He told me about the statement Frank Micelli had given the other detectives. Interestingly, Frank never mentioned the threatened warrant regarding a sexual assault. He just told them we were interviewing her about a homicide investigation he hadn’t been aware of. Whew.

It seems after Simone and I had left Meghan’s office, Meghan went over the edge. She was screaming that she wasn’t going to jail and all kinds of crazy things. Frank said she walked out of her office. He thought maybe she was going to the restroom to take a breather until he saw her walk past the doorway carrying something in her hand. He ran down to his own office, opened his top drawer and saw that she had taken his gun. That’s when he went chasing after her.

Frank also confessed that Meghan had been having mental problems for the past two years. She had been in and out of psychiatric hospitals, made several suicide attempts and was so medicated on antidepressants he was amazed she could even function.

“After Mr. Micelli calmed down, he actually seemed a little relieved,” the lieutenant informed me, and then he told me something else. “Sergeant, I’m just putting you on notice that the news stations have obtained a copy of the tape, so expect to be all over the five o’clock news. Considering this involves you, don’t be surprised if it goes national by morning.”

I nodded and turned around to join Naomi and the others. Instead, I ran smack into Michael. He led me by the arm off to the side, his face panic-stricken.

“You’re okay.” He was looking at me up and down as if he expected to see a bullet hole somewhere.

“Honey, I’m fine. You didn’t need to come down here.” I felt myself on the verge of tears at the sight of him.

He pulled me close and held me tight. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t ecstatic that he was there. He always made me feel safe.

I took the next several minutes and explained what happened, including my fears of Cincinnati. Michael was trying to tell me I had nothing to worry about when Simone came over. I introduced them.

“So, this is the reason you were promoted?” she said, mocking Meghan’s words. Michael looked confused.

“Yes,” I said to Simone, and then to Michael, “I’ll explain later.”

“We’re supposed to be at the department first thing in the morning to give formal statements,” she said. “It’s probably best that you stay here for the night. The hotel room will be on the Cincy PD.”

At that point, I was thoroughly exhausted. I wanted to leave, but first I had to clear it with the detectives in charge. Since I would be staying the night here, they said that would be fine.

Michael and I walked into our hotel room just as the ten o’clock news began. As the lieutenant had promised, the video of the shooting was the first piece aired. The announcer gave a brief history of my past before the video:

“For the third time in less than three years, decorated veteran Sergeant Detective CeeCee Gallagher of the Richland Metropolitan Police Department had to take a life to protect her own and the life of a fellow officer. This time, however, the incident occurred here in Cincinnati…”

I watched it in a daze. On video, the shooting happened quickly—not like I remembered it. It was only a few seconds from the time Meghan raised the gun to the time we were ordering Frank to show his hands.

Michael turned pale when he watched the video. Sitting on the bed, he put his hand over his mouth. When it was over, he looked ill.

“If you hadn’t looked over, she would have gotten you both.”

“Shoulda, coulda, woulda. Michael, she didn’t. Please, I don’t want to dwell on it. It’s over. I just want to give my statement in the morning and go home.”

I spent the next forty- five minutes talking to my parents, assuring them I was okay, before falling asleep on the bed, fully clothed.

I woke up an hour before I was supposed to be at the police department. I had nothing with me, clothes or otherwise, so I did my best to look presentable. Michael waited in the lobby while I gave my statement, which took the better part of an hour. As I was leaving, I heard Simone call my name from behind me. I turned around, and she gave me a quick squeeze.

“I’ll call you and let you know when it’s been officially cleared. No worries, girlfriend.” Her usually glowing look turned serious. “Listen…I’m really grateful to you. I watched that video and I about pissed my pants. If you hadn’t said anything, she’d have killed me. Thank you, CeeCee.”