I thought back to my father, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I ever knew him at all. Clearly, he wasn’t the stand-up, righteous man I’d always thought he was. Instead, he was involved in shady deals that ended up getting him killed. And not only that, he’d put his entire family in harm’s way. It made me so angry with him—almost blindingly so.
It was that anger that gave me the courage to walk straight up to the front counter and announce, “I’m Tallie Warren. I would like to speak with Detective Joyner.”
“Can you tell me what this is in reference to?”
“He’s investigating my father’s murder.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s right.” The officer picked up the phone and dialed Joyner’s extension. As soon as he picked up, the officer told him, “You have a Tallie Warren here to see you.”
There was a brief pause, and then, he said, “Sure thing. I’ll send her on back.”
He motioned me through the side entrance, then led me down the hall to Detective Joyner’s office. When I walked in, he was sitting at his desk, flipping through files, and he didn’t seem pleased to be interrupted. “Good morning, Ms. Warren. I’ve been meaning to reach out and give you an update on things, but unfortunately, there have been none to give.”
“I didn’t figure there had, but that’s not why I’ve come. I mean, it is, but I need your help with something else.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“I need to get into Dad’s office.” A suspicious look crossed his face, so I quickly added, “I need to get my son registered for school, and I can’t do that without his birth certificate and shot records. They’re in Dad’s safe or possibly his desk. I’m not sure where, but I know they’re there.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.” He gave me a look that was meant to be understanding but came off as patronizing. “Your father’s office is part of an active crime scene, and everything in it is considered evidence.”
“I understand that, but these are important documents that I can’t just replace overnight.” Knowing what I’d said was true, he grimaced, so I gave him a little push. “I’m only asking for a few minutes.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s just not possible.”
“Come on, Detective.” The words tumbled out sharper than I intended, but I couldn’t stop them. “This investigation has been going on for a while now, and you have nothing. You’re no closer to finding out who killed my father than you were when he was first murdered. I haven’t pushed or complained. I know you are doing what you can, but we both know my son’s documents have nothing to do with my father or what happened to him.”
“Sometimes it’s the things we least expect that end up being critical to an investigation.”
“Detective Joyner, please.” I tried to keep my voice calm as I pleaded, “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. Ford is already a week or more behind. I can’t afford to wait for you to finish your investigation.”
Joyner sighed, setting his pen down and folding his hands on the desk. “How long do you think it would take for you to get everything you need?”
“Twenty minutes. Maybe less.”
“I’ll have to look through everything you plan to take.”
“That’s fine. I have nothing that I would want to hide.”
“My day is packed solid, so if we’re going to do this, we’re going to need to do it now.”
“Okay. That’s great.”
Before he had a chance to change his mind, I stood and waited for him to do the same. He let out an annoyed breath, then closed his files and grabbed his weapon from his drawer. He slipped it into its holster before standing and starting for the door.
“Okay. Let’s get this done.”
“Should I ride with you or…”
“I’ll follow you over.”
“Okay. Sounds good.”
The detective’s heavy footsteps echoed against the floor as he led me through the station and out to the parking lot. After I showed him where I was parked, he followed me across town to my father’s office. We quickly parked and started for the front door. It was only a ten-minute drive, but I could tell by his tense expression that he was already growing impatient.
I expected the place to be covered up with detectives and Dad’s old employees, but there were just a couple of security guards and a stray worker or two. Nothing like there normallywas, and even though I found it odd, I didn’t question it. I just kept my expression neutral, and my hands clasped in front of me like I was nothing more than a daughter tying up loose ends.
That’s what I wanted him to believe—that I was there for something simple. But with every step I took, I could feel my façade starting to crumble.