Felony Jones

Gateways (Saturday Morning)

     Felony sat in her office chair flexing her hand. She made a tight fist then extended her fingers out as far as she could, holding them in that position as long as she could. She wasn't sure if the soreness was from her confrontation with Ash, or if it was the beginning of her slow, physical downward spiral into her family's lousy genetics. "Quit being so goddamned over-dramatic," she thought to herself. She lit a cigarette and stared at the whiteboard for a few minutes. She had left the word "cunt" written on it since the night of the break-in as a reminder, that no matter how often she had doubts about her own femininity, someone in the world must have seen her as woman enough to call her that word, so she would take it as a compliment, even if he was a goddamned scumbag named Frederick.

The phone rang. "Hello? Yes, I've been expecting your call. Uh-huh, okay." She scribbled several things on a notepad. "That's great, thanks a bunch, bye." David had someone at the police station find the address for Jim Parel, who became Ash's partner not long before Michael disappeared. Felony was going to unexpectedly show up at his house and see if he'd talk to her—maybe fill her in on some information. She had reservations about surprising him, but she wanted to catch him off guard.

The first thing she noticed when she pulled up in front of the Parel home were the beautiful flowerbeds. Felony wasn't blessed with a green thumb and never seemed to have the time, or the desire to become a better gardener. The second things she noticed was the small woman in the yard, pulling weeds. When she shut her car door the woman stood up straight and watched Felony walk toward the front gate. As she passed the mailbox, Felony noticed one of the names on it had been removed. She could still see the faint outline of the name, James, in the adhesive letter residue. The name Jena M. Parel was still clear, making her pause for a split-second, wondering if they had gotten divorced, or worse. It was too late, she was at the gate, and turning back now without saying something would have made the woman suspicious. Felony stopped at the gate. "Mrs. Parel?"

"Yes..."

"My name is Felony Jones, I'm a private detective. I was wondering if I could talk to your husband, James?"

Mrs. Parel gave her a once-over then responded, "my husband passed away months ago."

Felony was taken aback. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I'm so sorry to have bothered you." She turned and started walking away. Mrs. Parel stepped closer to the gate.

"Wait a minute, what's this about?"

Felony slowly came back to the gate. "I'm really sorry, I didn't know about your husband. I wouldn't have bothered you in the first place, if I had. I'm investigating the disappearance of a young man by the name of Michael Kurlow. Your husband was involved in the case for a brief period, and I wanted to see if he could shed some light on what happened during his time on the investigation."

"I remember the case..."

"You do? Did he tell you about it?"

"No, that's why I remember it, and because it was his last case. He mentioned the boy's name once, but he wouldn't talk about it—no details anyway. It was the first time he ever did that. He shut down, and that wasn't like Jim. Something about it really got to him."

"May I ask, how did your husband die?"

Mrs. Parel paused before answering. "He had a brain aneurysm—there was nothing sinister about it. Believe me, if there had been, I would have said something."

Felony was intrigued. "Why do you say that?"

"I just think there was something wrong with the whole stinking mess. Like I said, Jim never acted like that about any other case. He was secretive about this one, like there was something wrong with it to begin with—something he was ashamed of. The whole thing was, I don't know, not necessarily evil, more like sinister...that's what it felt like to me, as an outsider...I don't know how else to explain it. There were late night meetings and stakeouts in the past, but that was when he first started, not at this point in his career—and he was never jumpy about the subject of his work before. I knew my husband; this was different and I don't know why. Over time, I began to get suspicious so If I thought there was foul play regarding his death, I would have made my concerns known to somebody, believe me."

"A friend of mine, and my former boss, Captain Blanco, said he didn't know what happened to your husband after he left. He doesn't even know your husband passed."

"I remember Captain Blanco—he was one of the few people Jim liked. I had him taken up to Oregon and buried, that's where he was from originally. I wanted a private funeral—family only. I think he deserved better from them, so I didn't want anybody he worked with at the funeral, especially that bastard, Ashford. Do you know him?"

"Yeah, I know him. Did James ever tell you why he wanted a transfer? Was it because of Ash?"

Mrs. Parel nodded. "Yes—partly. There were other reasons, but a lot of it was because of Ronald Ashford. Jim didn't want to be partnered with him to begin with, but he didn't have a choice. He just became miserable and wanted out, transfer or not. I blame Perdue too. I think he's the one who made the decision to team Jim up with Ash."

"Chief Perdue? Why would he be involved in that decision? That's something that's usually decided at a lower level. Is that what James told you?"

"Not in so many words, but it was obvious that Perdue was getting the band back together, so to speak."

"They knew each other before they worked for the police department?" Felony asked, trying not to look overly excited.

"Oh yes, they were all in the Army together—James, Perdue and Ashford. They were marksmen or snipers—something like that, I don't know exactly what you call them. James didn't really talk about those days, I met him after he got out of the service. He used to be good friends with them, but something changed. Then after he was partnered with Ash, he became depressed in a short period of time and he stopped talking to me. I honestly don't know what happened during that time."

"Did all of this start earlier this year, into spring?"

"That sounds about right. He didn't get the transfer so he took an extended leave. In late March he relaxed a little, but then he ended up having the aneurysm in early April, so little good it did."

"You said he was gone at night sometimes, doing stakeouts?"

"Mm-hmm, I asked him what he was doing and he said he was just sitting in a car, watching a building and that he was bored out of his mind. I thought maybe, for a second, he was seeing someone, but Jim wasn't like that. I believed him when he told me he was just watching a building."

"So, he didn't give any details about the stakeout? Where it was? Or who he was watching?"

"No, he just said it was a lot of sitting and being bored, that's it."

Felony nodded. "You said he mentioned Michael Kurlow?"

"Yes, once. He told me one Saturday morning that he had to go pick up the belongings of a missing kid. He mentioned that name, Kurlow isn't common. I remember the day he went because it was the same day our daughter had gone into labor, and I wasn't happy that he was going to work instead of the hospital with me. He said it wouldn't take him long and he'd meet me there. He said it was a last-minute thing. Apparently, Ashford was supposed to go, but he couldn't make it so he asked Jim to go."

"He never told you what he did with the belongings?"

"No, I'm afraid not." Mrs. Parel thought for a moment. "He did mention he was picking the stuff up at the same building he had been watching...it's funny how things just pop up in your head."

"It is—enlightening too." Felony responded. "By the way, I know this is going to sound strange, but what did your husband look like?"

Mrs. Parel looked a bit confused and said, "He was a big, lovable Irish guy..." Felony nodded, saying under her breath, "mystery solved..."

"Pardon?" Felony ignored her and said, "thank you for your time, I appreciate it, you've been a big help." She started to walk away, then suddenly stopped and turned around. "Oh, by the way, what was it?"

"What was what?" Mrs. Parel asked.

"The baby—boy or a girl?"

"Oh, a girl...she's perfect."

"Of course she is..." Felony said, turning and walking away.