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Book online «Harlequin Romantic Suspense April 2021 Karen Whiddon (best fiction books to read TXT) 📖». Author Karen Whiddon



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to right their misconceptions, tell them he knew firsthand how hard GGPD worked, including its chief, his sister.

“I understand your concerns, Trina. To be frank, I have them, too. It’s why I’m here. I hope I’m able to help uncover what’s going on in the department.” Dominique handled them so professionally that Stanton took note. “I also want to reassure you that most of GGPD is top-notch. They’re working ’round the clock on the cartel issue and will get to the bottom of any mishandled cases. If there’s a bad cop or employee, they will be unearthed and face justice. Why don’t we start with you telling me about Daniel and how he ended up in police custody?”

Beverly took a deep breath before she began. “My husband, Daniel, was working on the East Side, doing whatever work he could find. He’s a contractor, electrician and plumber. One of the places he was helping renovate for public housing seemed to have a lot of drug deals going on from all appearances.”

“By ‘place,’ what do you mean, exactly?”

“It was an apartment building, next to that center. Now, let me tell you something. My Daniel has never, ever done drugs. He had a problem with booze years ago, but he’s been a chip-carrying member of AA ever since, sober for twenty years.”

“Since I was born,” Trina added.

Dominique took notes on her laptop, her fingers flying. Stanton was mesmerized by how she appeared so relaxed while he knew her mind was racing with the facts of this story.

“Go on.”

“I got a call at work—I’m a school nurse—saying that he’d been arrested for drug possession and dealing. I thought it was a joke. I mean, no one believed it. All his AA friends that we’ve met are certain he was framed, too.”

“Why do you think he was framed?”

“He came home one day and confided that he’d seen a man, dressed in fancy clothes, different than the other shady characters there. He didn’t get the impression the man was a user, but maybe some higher up with the folks he’d seen selling stuff. The dealers all acted scared around him, and he always traveled with five or six bodyguard types.”

“Did Daniel ever tell you what he meant by ‘stuff’?”

“Yes. Packets of white powder. Sometimes several to the same person. The day he witnessed what he thinks landed him in jail, to keep him quiet, the woman selling the drugs got knocked around by the man in charge. He hit her hard in the face, made her bleed. Daniel was installing lights in the hallway and shouted so that they’d leave her be. By the time he got down from his ladder, everyone had left the scene. Except...” Beverly shuddered and Trina’s grip on her mother’s hand visibly tightened.

“Except?” Dominique’s prompts were soft yet firm, just the right tone to convey her confidence in her interviewee.

“When he got to the end of the hallway by the back door, where the deal was going down and the woman got beaten, they were all gone...except one of the bodyguards, who looked at Daniel and made a slit-throat gesture.” Beverly demonstrated by using her finger like she was drawing a knife across her neck. “He thought he was going to be killed right then and there. He was so shook-up.”

“Why didn’t he call the police?”

“That’s just it. He did. An officer came out here and took a report. But he didn’t leave us with a copy of the report, so we doubt it was ever filed.”

“What was his name?”

“I think it was Bixman or something like that. He was in civilian clothes and Daniel said he flashed his badge so fast he never caught the number or name exactly.” Beverly shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. The next day Daniel was arrested in the middle of wiring an apartment.”

“And he was charged with possession?”

“And dealing.” Beverly took a tissue from a purple print box on the coffee table. “They found enough heroin cut with fentanyl in his toolbox and jacket pockets to charge him with the intent to deal.”

“But if your husband wasn’t really using, or dealing, then he never touched the packets.”

“No, he didn’t. But GGPD said his prints were all over the plastic bags.”

Dominique’s gaze met Stanton’s and he knew her thoughts. Randall Bowe. He had to be at the bottom of this. Had he been paid off by the drug cartel to plant the evidence? And who was the mystery cop who’d interviewed Daniel Lubinski? It sounded like someone posing as police, which would be a felony.

Dominique shut her laptop and leaned forward, placed her hands on top of Beverly’s and Trina’s. Stanton felt like an intruder on a girl-power meeting, but he didn’t at all feel excluded. Dominique had a way of making others always feel part of the team. He’d missed being on her team.

“I can’t thank you enough for being so honest with me. And I promise that I’m going to use the power of my pen to write a story that will help bring down the cartel. As I said earlier, please know that GGPD is not made of all bad players. They’re working hard on this.”

Beverly nodded. “I know. But understand that I had to take care of my family. Daniel told me that he and Charlie Hamm had become friends in prison due to the fact they both wanted to stay sober. Plus, Charlie had some of the same issues as Daniel.” Her gaze sparked with regret, sorrow. “They both strayed from their marriages. Charlie’s wife left him for cheating, and I decided to stay with Daniel, to work it out. It’s part of the reality of being in the midst of the addiction and disease.” She offered a brave smile. “They also figured out that they were both victims of the same bad players, whoever they were. I’ve retained an excellent attorney, who’s close to getting Daniel out. Turns out the evidence was highly circumstantial, because he’d left his jacket

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