Mark Taylor Omnibus (The Mark Taylor Series) Page 24

  Jim had no answer to that and conceded she had a point. He had harbored his own doubts about the authenticity of some of the information gathered, but there had been some proven successes with some prisoners using the same methods used on Taylor. One success might mean that there would be more, and nobody would know who would give up that important bit of information. He leaned his elbows on the table and rubbed his temples, then dropped his hands and let his anger drain away. “I understand your concern. Believe it or not, I do have Taylor’s health in mind and try to make sure that there’s no permanent damage.”

  Jessica recoiled. “Oh my God. You mean you’re the one who actually does these things to him?” She paled.

  This was not going as planned. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t tell you this, but I guess I need to explain what my role is and why I’m here.” He took a deep breath. “I am the head of a team that questions Taylor. We’re not the only ones though. There are a few agencies dealing with him. Frankly, the reason I’m here is because I harbor some doubts about his guilt. I shouldn’t tell you that either, but I hoped to get more information from you or anyone else you can think of.” Jim opened his arms, palms out. “I just want to find out the truth. That’s all.”

  Color crept back into her face and her throat jumped as she swallowed. “First, I’m not sure that anyone would call what Mark and I had a relationship. It was too new. Just so we’re straight on that.”

  Jim believed her but could also see that even though she denied any relationship with Taylor, she still cared about him. Curious, he asked, “How were things going before Taylor was taken into custody?” He allowed a note of humor to inflect his voice, “For what it’s worth, he seems like a nice enough guy.”

  Her cheeks turned pink at that and she actually chuckled. The smile transformed her face. No wonder Taylor had asked her out. “Yeah, he is, but he has some odd quirks.” Jessica’s gaze became distant. “For instance, on our first date, we were having a pleasant dinner...until he had to leave suddenly. Said he didn’t feel good or something. Only, I saw him at a mini-mart on my way home that night. Long story short, the place was about to get robbed and he interfered, and if he hadn’t, I would have shot and probably killed a fourteen year old robbing the store. The kid had a very real looking water pistol. Mark never explained how he knew except that he got a good look at the gun. I know guns, but that one fooled me.”

  She went quiet for a few moments. Jim fought the urge to ask questions and was rewarded when she then shook her head and continued, “Anyway, I felt like he ditched me on our date. He apologized and asked me out for the next weekend— literally begged for another chance. I agreed, but the day before our date, he shows up in the middle of our narcotics bust.”

  Eyes wide in exasperation, she waved a hand to emphasize the story. “So, he tackles the undercover guy about to make a buy, and right then, a rival gang-banger decides to pepper the street corner with an AR-fifteen.” Jessica looked down at her hands and rubbed them together and took a deep breath. “The officer came out without a scratch, the drug pusher took a couple of rounds to the chest, and Mark was wounded in the leg. After he recovered, we tried again. Things were going well, but then...” She bit her lip and shrugged. “Well, you know what happened then.”

  “So, you’re telling me that the marks on his record with the Chicago P.D. came about when he was trying to help?” The official reports barely made mention of Taylor’s role, but now Jim understood. What police officer wanted to admit to being saved by a civilian? Instead of awarding a medal, they arrested him for interfering in a case. They couldn’t make any of the charges stick, but just the fact that he was charged in the first place remained on his record. “I noticed that the charges were dropped.”

  She shrugged. “It was an embarrassment to the department. I can’t claim to be innocent. I felt the same way when he began showing up.”

  “But you don’t anymore?”

  “I didn’t understand it then, but I think I do now.” She swept the loose strands of hair out of her face. “I used his camera to take pictures of my little niece’s dance recital. When I picked the film up, most of the pictures came out great. Little Maggie did a wonderful job.” Jessica’s face softened and a smile curved her lips. “The last two pictures I took were of Maggie with her dance class. The girls were so wound up, I had a hard time getting them to sit still long enough to snap the picture, so when I finally got them to cooperate, I took two pictures, just to be sure.” She separated the photos of Taylor, looking from one to the other, then up to Jim. “Only instead of laughing little girls, I got these. I had the negatives checked, along with the camera. I thought maybe the pictures had been staged before he left or something, but according to the negatives, that would have been impossible. These were the last two on the roll.” Jessica slid the pictures together and put them back in the envelope. “Now, I believe his story.”

  While interesting, Jim wasn’t sure that it was related in any way to Taylor’s innocence or guilt. There was still the time in Afghanistan. “You are aware that Taylor spent several weeks in Afghanistan back a few years ago?”

  “Yes, he mentioned it to me. I didn’t know him at the time he went, but he showed me some pictures he brought back. I was touched at how he captured the fear and strength in the women’s faces. He wanted to help tell their story. It’s too bad that book wasn’t published. Mark’s photos were stunning.”

  “I’m sure he’s an accomplished photographer, but our source claims Taylor agreed to take photos of possible Chicago targets. The Sears Tower, the Hancock building and others.”

  Jessica crossed her arms and shook her head. “I don’t believe it. No way.”

  “Your belief in Taylor is admirable, however, you don’t have the same information nor responsibility that I have.”

  She stared at him, eyes narrowed, then without a word, swung her legs to the outside of the bench and stood. “I have to return to work.” She strode towards the car.

  Jim slid to the end of the bench and hurried after her. He caught up and put his hand over hers, stopping her from opening the car door. “I’m sorry. I know this must be hard on you. Nobody ever wants to believe that someone they care about could do horrible things.”

  “Take your hand off me.” She didn’t raise her voice. With the look she gave him, she didn’t have to.

  “Sorry.” Jim snatched his hand away and took a step back.

  Her shoulders sagged a fraction. “You have no idea what I do or do not feel for Mark. I’m not even sure, but I do know one thing—that man is not capable of the things you claim. I’m saying that as someone who has been a police officer for ten years and a detective for three.” She opened the door and nodded towards the passenger door. “Get in.”

  It took a moment for Jim to register that she didn’t intend to leave him here, and then he jogged to the other side and got in before she changed her mind. “Thanks. I thought I’d have to find a cab.”

  Jessica shrugged and started the car. “Well, it’s not like I’m doing it out of the goodness of my heart. I would like nothing more than to leave you here to bake on the pavement, but I want to show you something.”

  * * *

  Jessica gripped the wheel and forced her hands to relax before her fingernails dug into her palms. The thought of the things this man had done to Mark and God knew how many others, made her skin crawl. She glanced at him. There he sat, looking like an accountant, all neat and crisp. Like he never got his hands dirty. “Can I ask you something?” She faced forward and eased the car into traffic.

  “Sure. That doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” He sounded weary, but not in the least intimidated. “I hope you don’t mind if I roll the window down. It’s a gorgeous day.”

  “Doesn’t it bother you to do these things to other human beings?” She knew it was a bold question and that he would probably deny that what he did was wrong.

  Sheridan remained silent for so long, she thought he was going to ignore the
question, but then she saw his jaw tighten, and knew that she hit a nerve. Good.

  “Believe it or not, I don’t like that part of my job at all. It’s like asking a surgeon if he enjoys amputating a patient’s diseased leg. It’s not pleasant, but sometimes you have to cut away the diseased portion to get healthy again.” He rested his elbow on the windowsill, his hand disappearing above the car. She could hear him drumming his fingers on the roof.

  There was another long pause then he said, “There’s nothing I want more than a healthy country. One that isn’t afraid to carry on with business as usual. If I do my job right, the rest of you will be able to live, work and travel without having to worry that the next terrorist plot will tear your world apart.”

  She shot back, “I have the same goal for the city of Chicago, and maybe it’s small-scale, but I don’t torture my crime suspects until they confess and point fingers”

  Her building was just around the corner and she turned right.

  “That’s very admirable, but then I doubt your suspects were trained to withhold or to give false information.”

  “Withhold information? Are you serious? One look at Mark’s face would tell you if he’s telling the truth or not. The guy can’t tell a lie if his life depended upon it.” She rolled to a stop in front of her building. “I’ll be right back.”

  She wasn’t sure why she needed to show him the camera. For all she knew, the two images of Mark had been a one-time thing. Since buying the new roll of film, she had been too afraid to take more pictures. Who knew what might show up? She even wondered why Mark had ever continued using the camera. The fear of what might develop made her mouth go dry every time she thought about trying it again. Some things were better left unknown. Had Mark known he would be shot that time?

  “Well, here it is.” She moved the driver’s seat back. “I haven’t used it since that time, but I planned on testing it again.”

  “Go ahead if you want, but just to let you know, I have a feeling that those pictures of Taylor are the product of a leak on my team. That’s all it is. I’ll get to the bottom of it and I promise, you’ll see no more of those kinds of photos.”

  Jessica ignored him, and instead, loaded the film. It was a bit trickier than she was used to, but after shutting the compartment, she advanced the film to the first frame. She turned to Jim. “Say cheese!”

  Twelve

  “What the hell are you doing?” Jim glared at Jessie as she snapped off three photos. Who knew what she would do with the photographs? He wasn’t even supposed to be here.

  “Just testing the camera to see if it works like it did before. You saw me load it, now I’m going to run through all the frames.” She advanced the film and thrust the camera at him. “Here. You do the honors. Take pictures of whatever you want. We can go down to the park at the end of the block.”

  Jim held the camera with his thumbs and first fingers. “It looks old. I don’t know much about cameras. What if I break it?”

  “The thing looks like it’s made it through some rough times, I doubt a few pictures in the park will be the end of it.” Jessie slid her seat forward and started the car, pulling out when it was clear.

  “Fine.” He turned the camera over. “Do I just push the button here?” Jim held his finger over one of the gadgets on top of the device.

  “Yep.” She eased against the curb, stopping the car. “Here we are. Have at it.”

  He sighed and exited the car; he had better things to do than take pictures. Hopefully there weren’t many exposures on the film. Might as well get started. The sooner he used it up, the sooner he could get do some more investigating. He had a few of Taylor’s friends he wanted to chat with before flying back to Charleston in the morning. Lifting the camera, he snapped a picture of Jessie as she came around to his side of the car.

  He shot photos of trees, the slide, a swing, and even a butterfly that landed on a bench. Jim didn’t want to admit it, but it was kind of fun to try and find something to photograph. The goal was to simply take random pictures just to use up all the frames, but he couldn’t help trying to find interesting subjects. It seemed like such a waste to just point the lens anywhere and click the shutter button.

  Jessie followed him, making suggestions, and when she mentioned taking a picture of a wildflower poking through the slats of a boardwalk surrounding the play area, he tried to suppress a grin. If the guys on his team could see him now, lying on his belly trying to get a good picture of a flower.

  In fifteen minutes, he had used all the frames and handed the camera back to Jessie. “Well, that was fun,” he said, his voice dry.

  She raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth quirking. “I think you need to get out more. It seems like you have a natural eye.”

  Jim felt his face heat up. “I think you’ll discover differently when the pictures come back. They probably aren’t even in focus.” He sat on a bench, leaning forward with his hands loosely clasped, absently watching a couple of little boys have a sword fight with sticks.

  Jessie sat beside him and rewound the film, taking it out when it was complete. She made a show of holding it up for him to see and putting it in the canister. Jim shook his head and hid a smile. Maybe he would buy a decent camera and learn how to use it. It had been fun.

  He stood and twisted, getting a kink out of his back. “Now what?”

  Jessie handed him the canister. “There. You keep it. I wouldn’t want you thinking I switched rolls somewhere. Maintain the chain of evidence and all.”

  Jim rolled his eyes, but took the film. “Fine.”

  “Now, we get it developed. I know a place that should be able to do it in a few hours.”

  After dropping off the film, Jessie took him back to his hotel and agreed to pick him up after she got off work. They’d go together to get the prints. In his room, he dug out the numbers of Taylor’s friends and tried calling them. None were home, and he left a short message, saying he would get back to them later that day. Then, with nothing to do, he stretched out for a nap. It had been a long day already.

  * * *

  Jessie tapped on the glass counter. Jim felt a surge of apprehension and shook it off. Her nervousness was rubbing off on him. The same guy who had promised to develop the prints earlier came from the back room, a film envelope in his hand.

  “Here you go.” He set the envelope down and looked from Jessie to Jim, his face twisted in disgust. “I know it’s police business, but there’s some seriously disturbing pictures in here.” He rang up the purchase. “Don’t you guys normally have your own lab people develop film for you?”

  Jessie snatched up the envelope. “Yeah, but like before, this is a special case. We need to keep this quiet. Will that be a problem for you? I suppose we could go elsewhere if we need to...”

  “Oh, no ma’am. I can handle it.”

  Jim had to hand it to her, she had the young guy puffing up his chest, no doubt feeling important to be part of an ‘investigation’. Amused, he turned to Jessie, about to crack a joke about how awful his photography skills were if the photos scared the poor guy, but he bit the comment back when her face drained. “What?” He circled behind her to see the photo in her hand. “Damn it!”

  Jessie swung around, her face twisted in fury. “Doing this to a person is how you keep our country safe?”

  Jim snatched the print out of her hand to take a closer look. There was no mistaking what was going on. Taylor lay stretched on his back, cellophane pulled tight around his face except for his nose. A hand, just visible at the top of the picture, held a pitcher of water, the stream shone silvery as it poured onto the cellophane. The man’s eyes were wide with fear and the tendons on his neck stood out as he strained to get away. Sickened, Jim closed his eyes and swallowed.

  Jessie glared at him and the guy behind the counter stood mouth agape at her comment. Jim sent him a hard look, then gripped Jessie’s elbow. “Can we take this conversation out to the car?”

  She jerked her elbo
w free and marched ahead of him, slamming the door.

  Jim took a deep breath and turned to the guy. “Look, I’m sorry you got involved in this.” Pulling his ID out, he flashed it in the young man’s face. “It’s imperative that you don’t tell anyone about what you’ve seen and heard. Understand?”

  He nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “Sure. Not a word.”

  “Good.” Jim grabbed the envelope of photos, exited the shop, and climbed in the car beside Jessie. The implication of what the photo meant sank in. At first, he had thought it was an old photo of the time they had water-boarded Taylor, but then he recalled that they hadn’t used cellophane. He hated that method, feeling like it was going too far. Bill was a fan of it though. Insisted it was a more compelling technique, very effective on the more reticent prisoners and had produced some actionable intelligence when he had used it on another detainee.

  Jessie sat arms crossed, her face a mask of loathing as she watched him. Jim tried to form an explanation but couldn’t come up with one. “I just want you to know that I didn’t order this. I gave explicit instructions that Taylor was to be left alone until I returned.” He wasn’t sure why he wanted the woman to believe him. Even if he had ordered it, he had the authority to do so and didn’t need to explain his decisions to a civilian.

  “So, you’re saying that you believe the photos weren’t planted?” Her voice rose, and for the first time, she looked at him like he was human.

  Jim shrugged. “I don’t know what the hell is going on with this picture.” He hesitated, not wanting to admit to any of this. “The one time we did that, we used another... method. Maybe it wasn’t us.”

  She narrowed her eyes, her tone skeptical. “Not you? What does that mean?”

  “Taylor has a couple of agencies questioning him.” He was fairly certain that FBI didn’t waterboard, but sometimes guidelines were...bent. Maybe this was one of those times.