“Uh-huh.”
Suit asked, “What kind of show?”
Not revealing his source, Jesse explained about locker 113 and how it was used as a transfer point for orders and deliveries.
“Between classes, while the kids are outside their rooms and going to their lockers, we’re going to make a show of cutting the locker open.”
“But you have the combination,” Suit said.
Gabe answered, “That’s part of the show, Suit.”
“We want to make a lot of noise for as many people as we can, students, teachers, secretaries, administrators, and maintenance people,” Jesse said.
This time it was Gabe who didn’t understand. “Teachers? Janitors?”
Jesse nodded. “I was thinking about it last night. Who would have access to Chris Grimm? Who would approach the kid? How would Chris get a spare locker? I’m thinking that maybe the person next up the ladder from the kid works in the school.”
Both Suit and Gabe were nodding now, too.
Suit said, “Do you think we’re going to find anything in the locker?”
Jesse shook his head, taking a sip of coffee. “Unlikely, but it tells us something either way.”
Gabe smiled. “If there’s still drugs and unfilled orders in the locker when we open it, it means they haven’t replaced the kid as the supplier and his customers are going to be in pretty bad shape.”
“And if it’s empty,” Suit said, “then it means they have moved on and that there’s either a new locker or a different system already being used. Also means that your theory about it being someone at the school who was the kid’s connection makes sense.”
Before they could discuss it any further, Cole arrived with their breakfasts.
Gabe said, “You sure you want to give up all this glory to be a Statie?”
Cole laughed. “Tough choice.”
When his cops went outside and after Jesse paid the bill, he cornered Daisy. It bugged Jesse that Daisy, who had always been simpatico with him, had seemed to avoid him that morning. And he couldn’t get past Cole’s comment about how Daisy had seemed jealous of his relationship with Maryglenn. Jesse was a man who liked things to make sense. That’s what being a homicide detective had been about, bringing order to or making sense of circumstances and events that, at first glance, seemed disconnected. Of course, there were and would always be cases that defied sense and reason, but most of the time it was simply a matter of doing the work.
“Are you going to give me a hard time about covering for your son?” she said. “Because if you are, mister, you can just forget it. I’m—”
“Not that. I’m glad you two trusted each other so much and that you gave him the space to go for what he wanted.”
“You got quite a boy there. His mother did a good job raising him. Don’t screw your part up.”
“She did and I won’t. But what’s the deal with you and Maryglenn? And don’t tell me to go ask her. I’m asking you.”
“You know Swingline Sue’s?”
“No.”
“Then educate yourself.” She pushed past Jesse, about-faced, “And congratulations. You have a party for him, I better be there.”
She didn’t give Jesse a chance to say another word before she disappeared into the back of the restaurant.
Forty-six
Jesse and Principal Wester understood each other’s position.
“The kid is officially missing, so I don’t need a warrant to get into his locker. Locker 113 is something else, but I could get a search warrant for it if you force my hand.”
“I know precedent says that the students should have no expectation of privacy on school grounds, but this will hurt my relationship with the students, and the school board won’t be pleased.”
“They’ll be even less pleased if there’s a delay and another kid ODs.”
As displeased as she was with the notion of giving the police access to the lockers, she was even less happy about Jesse’s insistence on doing it as the kids moved between classes. Jesse’s explanation of why that was the best time to do it made sense. Still, none of it was to her liking.
Inevitably, a crowd of students and teachers formed around Jesse, Suit, and Gabe. Peter Perkins, evidence bag in his gloved hands, had joined them as well. Principal Wester stood next to Jesse. Things got surprisingly quiet, and when they did, Jesse turned and faced the crowd.
“We’re cutting open the lock on number 113,” he said. “I know for a fact that this locker was used as a transfer point for pill orders and deliveries. Heroin, too. Let me make this clear to you, I am not looking to get anyone in school in trouble. If you’ve got a problem, all we want to do is get you help. If you don’t want to come to the police, I understand. Go to a teacher, your guidance counselor, the school psychologist, Principal Wester, or a friend. We don’t want any more of you hurt. But let me put anyone involved in selling the drugs on notice: You have one chance to come forward. I realize you might be addicted yourself and feel trapped. You’re not. We’ll get you help. Here’s the thing. I found out about this locker and I will find you. That’s what I am paid to do. If I find you before you come forward, that won’t be good for you.” Jesse turned to Gabe. “Cut it.”
Gabe Weathers placed the sharp jaws of the lock cutter on either side of the combination lock’s U-shaped metal and squeezed the long handles together. The jaws cut cleanly through the curved metal. Peter Perkins stepped forward and put the lock in an evidence bag. He opened the locker. As Jesse expected, it was empty. Peter Perkins put the bagged lock away and got busy taking photos. It was all part of the show.
Jesse nodded to Virginia Wester.
“Okay, everyone, back to class,” she said, looking at her watch. “The excitement is over and I don’t want to hear any excuses about being late for class. Let’s go. Let’s go.” She gestured with her arms, shooing them away.
Jesse had wished she would have repeated some of what he had said, but he understood why she hadn’t.
He leaned over to Suit. “You stay here with Peter. Keep an eye out for any kid who sticks around or seems like they want to approach you. When Peter’s done, go home and get to sleep before tonight’s shift.”
“Sure, Jesse. You think this did any good?”
“Too soon to tell, Suit.” Then he walked over to Peter. “When you’re done with this locker, open Chris Grimm’s locker. I want everything in it bagged and cataloged.”
“I will.”
“Gabe,” Jesse said. “You can go out on patrol.”
As the school’s front door closed behind Jesse, Maryglenn raced to catch up to him. When he turned to face her, the expression on her face wasn’t what he expected. Instead of smiling at him as she usually did, she was scowling and there was very real anger in her eyes.
“I didn’t expect that of you,” she said, brushing hair out of her eyes.
“I was doing my job.”
“Is it your job to scare the hell out of these kids? I heard that was some display you and the troops put on.”
“‘Troops’?”
“Well, it was a show of force, wasn’t it?”
He nodded.
“Word has already spread around the school.”
“Good,” he said. “That was the idea.”
“What was?”
“I wanted word to spread and I wanted to scare some people.”
“At what cost?”
“Trying to make sure Heather Mackey is the last casualty.”
“There wasn’t any other way to do it?”
“Look, Maryglenn, I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation. But I will tell you this: Chris Grimm is missing. No one from the school has come forward to give us any leads.” He turned and pointed toward the school. “There are kids in there hooked on Vicodin and Oxycontin, some probably pretty desperate to get hold of anything to make the hurt go away. If they can’t get pills, heroin is probably their next best option. I think that might be the point of the whole operation, moving kids from pills to heroin. That’s what killed Heather Mackey.”