Grave Consequences Read Free

threat.
    â€œWhat happened to the other two perps, Henry?” DuPree asked.
    â€œOne of them took a hit, but they both got away. Our bad,” Charlie responded. “At least they no longer have a hostage.”
    â€œYeah, I heard about that from Dispatch. Is the lady okay?”
    â€œSeemed that way,” Gordon added. “You’ll have to ask the officers down at the laundry,” he said, nodding in that direction. “They pulled up just after we left.”
    â€œAny details on the perp’s vehicle?”
    Gordon nodded. “Dark blue Chevy van, not sure of the model, but the paint was faded and it had one of those chrome ladders in the back.”
    â€œGet the…?”
    â€œTag number. Yeah, New Mexico plates, yellow, XLF-499. Or maybe XLP,” Gordon added.
    â€œGot that?” DuPree said to the uniformed officer beside him.
    â€œYessir,” Officer Blaine, according to his name tag, responded, then stepped away and spoke into his handheld.
    â€œWhat’s with the rifle? That yours?” DuPree asked Gordon, looking at the civilian assault-style weapon.
    â€œNope. Abandoned by the perps after it jammed near the mom-and-pop grocery. We didn’t think it should be left on the sidewalk where anyone could just pick it up.” Gordon eased it down onto the sidewalk. “I marked an X on the sidewalk with a Sharpie where it was dropped.”
    DuPree looked over at Officer Blaine, who’d just finished putting on latex gloves. Blaine nodded and took the rifle.
    â€œDid any of the assailants here gain access to your office or the storeroom?” DuPree asked, familiar with the layout. He looked from Jake to Ruth, who was staring at her hands, then turned to Charlie.
    â€œNot even close, Detective. You want to go into our office for the interviews?” Charlie guessed.
    DuPree nodded. “But let’s all enter through the back.” He turned to the other officers. “Block off the sidewalk from here to there,” he said, pointing, “keep civilians from picking up shell casings as souvenirs, and don’t step in the blood trail,” he added. “And warn the crime team to watch their step before they enter.”
    *   *   *
    A few minutes later, Detective DuPree gestured to Ruth and Jake, who were standing in the doorway of the secure storeroom. “I’ll interview each of you, but individually, so please don’t talk back and forth about this until I’m done. I need your personal responses, not something colored by conversation. I’ll start with Charlie. You three”—he gestured from Jake and Ruth to Gordon—“wait in the storeroom until it’s your turn.
    â€œLet’s go, Charlie.” DuPree nodded toward the office door.
    Charlie led the way in, DuPree closing the door behind them. Charlie reached for his coffee mug, an almost automatic response whenever he entered the work space.
    â€œPour me a cup too, if you don’t mind,” DuPree said, grabbing a foam cup from a small stack on the windowsill and handing it to Charlie before sitting down on Gordon’s desk chair.
    Charlie poured the coffee, taking his time to avoid spilling the hot brew. His hand was shaking. Grinning weakly, he handed the detective the coffee before taking his own seat at the other desk.
    â€œGood to see that you’re bothered by all this,” DuPree said, taking a sip.
    â€œWhy is that?” Charlie asked, looking down at his hand, consciously trying to steady the mug, and finally succeeding.
    â€œTo me, that shake in your hand suggests acts of defense, not aggression, which may help toward clearing you from possible criminal charges. Not that I expect any. But just in case I’m wrong, have you ever had any PTSD symptoms that generate anger or hostility or interfere with your ability to deal with people, or yourself?”
    â€œI’ve gone through some guilt and anxiety