Page 29 of To Die For

Braddock clutched his coffee cup though he didn’t raise it to his mouth. It was as though the man just wanted to hold on to something as he thought this through.

“If you’re saying what I think you are, that’s a Pandora’s box, Devine.”

“You didn’t answer my question. And without that, I don’t see a way forward with you and me on this.”

“What’s your proof?”

“First, you tell me if you’re prepared to go where the evidence takes you, even if it takes you somewhere you don’t want to go.”

Now Braddock drained his coffee. “Let’s go for a walk.”

They left the café and started down one of Seattle’s main avenues as a brisk wind coming off the harbor swept across them. Braddock kept a steady pace and Devine matched him footfall for footfall.

“I’m forty-nine years old, Devine, youngest of five kids. All boys except for four sisters,” he quipped. “And all of them are strong-willed and independent and thought I was, at best, anunattractivenuisance. But that just made me work harder. I started out in uniformed patrol, like everybody else. Pulled the First, Second, and Third Watches, like everybody else. Made sergeant right at the five-year mark, which is not all that common. Three years later I applied for and was accepted as a detective candidate; again that’s on the early side but that was my ultimate goal and I worked my ass off for it. As a newbie detective I pulled duty as part of our CSI unit for a few years to get a good grounding in forensics, just like you saw those folks doing last night. Then I asked for and was transferred to MCU, the Major Crimes Unit’s Investigation Bureau. I pulled that duty in Seattle’s Southwest Precinct for a bunch of years. And I did well, had a ninety-four-percent clearance rate on my cases because I’m tenacious as hell with a chip on my shoulder, again probably because of my sisters and their evil ways. Then I moved to the Western Precinct, which is basically downtown Seattle and a handful of surrounding suburbs. Five years ago, I was part of a joint op with the King County MCU. Some cartel activity and related murders for hire had crossed over from county to city and vice versa.” He stopped walking and Devine did likewise.

“And we had some crooked cops on the payroll for the cartel. I found out and stood up to them. They threatened me and my family.”

“What happened? Did they try to act on those threats?”

“They firebombed my home and killed my wife.”

Devine had not seen that one coming. “Jesus!”

“I should have been home. And my wife shouldn’t have been. She had a school thing to go to for our youngest son. But at the last minute she couldn’t go and asked me to take her place. The sons of bitches that blew up my house obviously assumed I was in there and she wasn’t, though I doubt they cared about her. Thank God our other son wasn’t home.”

“Please tell me you got the pieces of shit.”

“Every last one of them, a detective and three uniforms. Life without parole. I go to see them in prison every once in a while and just stare at them. Never say a word. I just look at them. And then I smile and get up and walk out the door, something they will never be able to do the rest of their lives.” He stopped and appraised Devine. “That was a long answer to your question. I go where the evidence takes me and I don’t give a shit who goes down. Are we straight on that?”

“I appreciate the candidness, Detective. And I’m truly sorry that happened to you and your family.”

Braddock started walking and Devine fell into step.

Devine said, “I have three people who knew the Odoms and said they never did drugs.”

“What three people?”

“Two of Dwayne Odom’s friends from high school, who were both drug addicts and know what telltale signs to look for.”

“And the third?’

“Betsy Odom. Who also says her parents never used drugs and she swears she never tried to administer Narcan to them, despite what the official report said.”

Braddock nodded and said, “If memory serves, the Odoms were found dead in the town of Ricketts, in Asotin County.”

“You know the police out there?”

“Not directly. Pretty small town.”

“I understand that the Odoms lived in Kittitas County. Is Ricketts far from there?”

“Over a four-and-a-half-hour drive, though a chunk of it is onthe interstate. But with a lot of snow it can get treacherous going through the Cascades, even on the highway. And once you get off the highway, it’s a lot of back roads, and the elevations crank back up once you get to Garfield and Asotin counties, from four to over six thousand feet.”

“Any idea why the Odoms were in Ricketts?”

“No. But it wasn’t my case, and the statewide bulletins we get didn’t say. Did the girl know why?”

“I didn’t really ask her, at least directly. And she didn’t want to relive the moment.”

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