Heartless Love

Chapter Five

As Tamara takes all the photos off of the investigation board, she begins to rattle off all of the information they have gathered thus far to Bryce. "Frank Barlowe last spoke over the phone to his ex-wife, Rose Barlowe. He told her that he was in trouble. Shortly after, he was found dead in an alleyway. Similarly, Sam Thorton called his longtime friend, Tony Bellows, to tell him that he was also in trouble. More specifically, he said that he and the other victims were being punished for someone else's mistake. Furthermore, a month before his murder, he told Mr. Bellows that he was investing in something. If he was successful in this investment, he would be able to be free for life and could finally retire," Tamara states all at once as she begins replacing the photos on the board in a new format. Bryce walks up closer to the board. With a nod of his head, he says, "I know we are competitors in this investigation, but I must say, you have your information together." Tamara side-eyes him with a slight grin. "Tsk, the question still stands though. What was Thorton investing in?", Bryce says. Tamara only nods her head in acknowledgment. "We should go and show all of this to Detective Hayes," Bryce suggests. This time Tamara responds with words, "Not yet. We need a breakthrough piece of information to share with him. Right now, all we have are additional testimonies." Bryce nods his head and replies, "Makes sense. We should go to the hospital then. From both our evidence and personal statements, it seems like Jim Sutton's case will be the most interesting." Suddenly, a thought come into Tamara's mind, and she asks, "Did we ever look to see if any of the victims had a photo where we could see the tattoo that was on their necks?" Bryce and she look at each other, before rushing over to the computer. Tamara taps at the keys quickly and pulls up the Rochester General Hospital website. She types in Jim Sutton's name in the website search bar. Two photos of Sutton pull up on the screen. Tamara clicks on the first, which is a headshot of him when he joined the hospital. As she zooms into the left side of his neck, she and Bryce realize that there is no tattoo of any sort. Tamara clicks to the other image, which was taken the previous year when he was promoted to head surgeon. Again, she zooms again into his neck and sees no tattoo. "Nothing," she says under her breath. Bryce clicks his tongue on his pallet and asks, "Do you think he covered it up?" "Maybe? It would make sense to do so considering his position and the fact that the tattoo clearly would have raised questions," Tamara replies, "However, we need to look at photos of Barlowe and Thorton before we can get a definitive answer." "Barlowe's wife may have photos of him, but Thorton was never married. So, finding any photos of him will prove to be difficult," Bryce states. Tamara cocks her head and asks, "What if they are in the national database of criminal offenders?" Excitement rushes through Bryce's veins and he rushes back over by Tamara. She first searches Frank Barlowe's name. One result comes up. Tamara clicks on it and sees that it is for a domestic violence charge placed by Ms. Barlowe on Mr. Barlowe. As she scrolls down to where the mugshot should be, she realizes there is not one. Bryce sighs deeply in frustration and hangs his head low. "They resolved the issue without having to bring Barlowe in," Tamara informs him. Without waiting for a response, she types in Sam Thorton's name. "No results," Tamara says quietly as Bryce keeps his head low. Tamara stands up and puts her jacket back on. "Where are you going?", Bryce asks. Tamara snorts and replies, "To get lunch." Bryce only nods before exiting the room and heading to his office.

As Tamara exits the station, she hales for a taxi. After a few minutes, one pulls up on the side of her. "213 Orchid Lane," she says as she gets in. The taxi driver nods his head. Once they are in the flow of traffic, the driver asks, "It's a beautiful day, isn't it ma'am?" Tamara looks up from her phone and smiles slightly. "It is indeed," she replies. Her eyes move to the window, where the faces of buildings and people fly by. The taxi comes to a rolling stop as the traffic light changes from yellow to red. Tamara sighs slightly as she looks back down at her phone. "Thief! Thief," someone yells from outside the cab. Tamara's eyes fly up towards the window this time. She watches as a boy runs down the sidewalk with a man in an apron in hot pursuit of him. Tamara grumbles in frustration at the thought of having to become a part of this sidewalk freakshow. She quickly fumbles through her bag and pays the taxi driver the fare. He takes the money and begins counting her change. "Keep the change," Tamara says quickly as she gets out of the taxi. She runs to catch up with the man. After a short while, she sees him leaning over his knees. He is exhaling ragged breathes and a bead of sweat runs down from his hairline to his chin and then off his face. "Which direction did he go?", Tamara asks urgently. The man stands up straight and swallows hard before responding, "He just turned down that alleyway." Tamara's knees straighten and she bolts away from the man and towards the ally. Hairs from her ponytail fall as the cooling breeze hits her forehead. She turns the corner, and a sudden chillness hits her. The hairs on her arms stand up and the beads of sweat running down her back cause the chilly breeze to seem even colder. After catching her breath, she again begins to rush down the ally. She rounds another corner and sees the back of the boy standing in front of the trunk of a black SUV. Cocking her head, she walks slowly towards him. She stops a few feet away from him; a smug look on her face. It would be a lie to say that she is not proud that can still catch up to criminals on the run. "Was a loaf of bread really worth that much?", she asks coyly. The boy turns on his heel to face her, and it is only now that Tamara remembers that the boy was not wearing a suit or dress shoes. Her eyes travel up the length of the man standing in front of her. His shoes are shiny and free from any creases. Creases that would come from good wear. Likewise, his black pants are crisp and have clearly been recently dry cleaned. As her eyes move further up, she sees his unbuttoned suit coat acting like curtains slightly covering up his white button up. The breeze causes the folds of the coat to swing ever so slightly and reveal more of the shirt underneath. Her eyes then reach his face. Day old stubble covers the lower half of his face and the top of his lip. The stubble leads up his cheeks to his well-trimmed sideburns. These in turn lead to a full head of jet-black hair that is neatly combed in a side part which lets the waves of his hair fall towards the back of his head. Similarly, his thick eyebrows are also jet-black and are a satisfying contrast to the dark blue pools of his eyes. Clearly, he is not a boy. "You have the wrong person ma'am," he states curtly. The slight feeling of embarrassment hits Tamara. She decides to not show her true emotion and straightens her posture, all pride from before practically gone. "My apologies. I mistook you for someone else," she says. As she turns to leave, she hears the stranger talk again. "Who are you looking for?" he asks, his voice deep, yet calm. Tamara faces him again. "A boy who apparently stole something from a baker," she replies bluntly. The stranger looks down at his shoes and quirks an eyebrow. "Blake," he calls out from behind him. The boy comes walking out from around the SUV. Tamara's lips purse and she immediately jumps into action. "Blake you are under arrest for attempted robbery and causing a public disturbance. You-," she begins rattling off, but is cut off by the stranger. He raises his arm to block her from reaching Blake. "He's a minor," the stranger says simply while keeping his gaze forward. Tamara's eyes pierce into the stranger's and she responds, "Then he will be judged as a minor." With that, her eyes land back on Blake, and she places her hand on the stranger's forearm in an attempt to push it down and out of her way. However, it doesn't budge. Her eyes meet the stranger's again. This time the stranger also meets her gaze. For a short moment, his dark gaze intimidates her. "I need to take him to the station," she says, her jaw tense. The stranger exhales deeply and states, "And you will." Tamara's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Your actions aren't matching your words," she informs him. "Before you take him, promise me you will keep him from being stuck in their for too long," he says in a low tone. Tamara gathers that he is asking her to keep Blake from staying in jail for too long. She nods her head and informs him, "If he returns the stolen items back to the shop owner, then he will only have to spend the night." The stranger lowers him head down to her ear and whispers, "Promise me." Tamara pulls her head away and looks up at him. "Why is it so important to you that he stays ok?" she questions. He looks away from her and repeats, "Just promise me." Reluctantly, Tamara makes the promise. The minute the words come out of her mouth; the stranger drops his arm. After cuffing Blake, she heads down with him through the twisted alleyways and back out onto the sidewalk.

Once the items are returned to the baker, Tamara and Blake ride a taxi back to the station. Because it is a police station, hardly anyone gives a second glance as Tamara walks Blake to the elevators. She brings them to the third floor, where the other inmates are housed. "Well, this surely is a surprise," Warden Sikes says with a grin as he stands up from his desk, "I haven't seen you bring in a felon since your deputy days." Tamara does not engage with his comment and states, "I arrested him for attempted robbery; however, he returned the items to the store owner. So, let him out at eight tomorrow morning." Warden sikes nods his head in understanding and takes hold of Blake's free arm. Tamara lets go of the other and heads back to the elevators. "See you around detective," Warden Sikes says playfully before he rounds the corner with Blake. When Tamara gets back to her office on the thirteenth floor, Bryce comes and asks, "How was your lunch." "Didn't have one," she states bluntly, as she begins to type a report onto her computer. Bryce's face clearly expresses confusion, but he knows Tamara well enough to know that she probably doesn't want to talk about it. "Sooo," he carries, "We still going to the hospital?" Tamara's eyes widen in realization, and she curses underneath her breath. "Let me finish this report and then we can head out," she says, before returning her attention to her computer screen.