Chapter 7: Chapter 7: Let’s Chat
*Claire*
I had him. I know it now. I end the call, a smile on my face. I just got off of the phone with the Chief, asking him whether or not he contacted Nathaniel Ballard about the location of the crime scene.
He did not.
I could not hide the gleam in my eyes. There is something off about Nathaniel and now I have one shred of proof lending credibility to my suspicions about something being off about the private investigator.
I walk around the car after shoving the phone back into my pocket. I scan the area. From what I can see, shadows plague every corner of the bridge. The primary light nearby includes a couple of lights on the street and all of the headlights to our vehicles.
I can see my breath, even in the darkness that surrounds us. Between the officers walking around the scene and the area being prepped for forensic analysis, I spot Nathaniel Ballard hovering near the edge of the “do not cross” tape.
Like a cat stalking its prey, I lock onto my target and walk the direct line between the both of us. Nathaniel sees me coming, and I can see in his eyes that he knows why I am coming toward him.
Good.
Maybe this will rattle him or put him off his game.
As stealthily as I can, I turn on my phone camera and hit the record button. I need his statements documented for my own personal records if nothing else. Is it against the rules? Sure. It would be okay though – he didn’t play by the rules.
“So, Mr. Ballard,” I say as I watch his body language. I did not want to miss a single micro expression on this man’s face. “May I ask why you are already here at the crime scene?”
Nathaniel did not look nervous per se, but I see the wheels turning in his head. He knows what I am asking and why I approached him. He shoves his hands in his pockets even though he is wearing gloves in the chilly air and furrows his brow. Is he trying to play dumb? Or is he trying to evaluate me?
“I am here for the same reason as you. I am trying to ascertain why this person was killed and who the perpetrator may be,” says Nathaniel calmly. The way his voice, smooth and deep as it thunders deep in his chest, reminds me of how he spoke on the recordings. Calm. Calculated. Rehearsed.
I sense immediately he is holding something back. I decide to press.
“Yes,” I say in a matter-of-fact tone. “Of course you are. Let me be more specific for you, investigator. Why are you here at the scene of the crime when we recently received the call? Actually, you were here before we even arrived. Tell me, have you been on the scene for long?”
There is a gleam in Nathaniel’s obsidian eyes that seems to absorb all light. He narrows his eyes and I swear a small smile curls at the edge of his mouth.
“I believe you are attempting to insinuate something, officer; however, you will find it is by coincidence that we arrived at the scene at the same time. Well, mostly at the same time. I arrived only a minute or so before you,” states Nathaniel.
“I am not implying anything,” I say, feeling myself bristle internally at how smooth he thinks he is. “I am saying that you were here before any law enforcement. There are plenty of other officers who saw you here standing over the victim. You just admitted you arrived a minute before we did. How did you know where the crime scene was?”
Nathaniel inhales deeply, slowly, as if contemplating something in the forefront of his mind. I can practically see it. What is he thinking? It is infuriating.
“As I said, I have my ways; however, if you must know, I do possess a police scanner of my own. I have a license for this piece of equipment and employ it in my profession. I heard the call and was in the vicinity,” replies Nathaniel.
“Really?” I prompt. “Interesting. How often do you find yourself at the scene of the crime before the police? Two, maybe three times in your career?” I ask. I feel my heart pounding in my chest, coursing with adrenaline. I am trying to catch this guy off guard and I finally feel like I have a good angle to pursue.
“Perhaps. I personally do not keep track,” says Nathaniel. “However, based on that micro-frown in your brow, you believe there is some kind of connection and have something to substantiate your claim.”
Gosh, he is good. Am I really that easy to read? Or is this just his experience? I have to admit that I am a little impressed, but that will not stop me from questioning him further. I cannot reveal all of my cards just yet though. I need to savor this and get him on record.
“I just think it is a little suspicious. That is all,” I say coyly. At this, Nathaniel’s eyes narrow. He leans forward just a little before straightening his back once again to his full height.
“It sounds as though you are insinuating again,” says Nathaniel quietly. “It also sounds like you do not believe in happy coincidences.”
“It sounds like you do believe in coincidences, which I personally think is not possible considering our profession of finding the truth. Everything has a reason. Isn’t that what they teach when talking about evidence? Don’t overlook the smallest detail because it is probably there for a reason,” I counter, feeling pleased about my jab at him.
“So, and let me know if I am following your train of thought, you think that I possibly had something to do with the current string of murders? You see me, an independent entity from law enforcement, as some kind of external threat to your personal security and the security of your organization. Fascinating,” states Nathaniel, using his dark, soothing voice to form his words out of the cold air surrounding us.
“I am here for the justice and the truth,” I say defensively. Since when is this about me? Smart. Turn the situation around on me. “Sure, you have the ABCs behind your name, but you are still an independent who can be hired.”
Nathaniel’s brow hardens before a smile, a full smile, spreads across his face. He shakes his head and, to my surprise, he begins to laugh. I feel my insides churn. This is serious work! How can he be laughing so casually?
“Forgive me, officer,” he says after he sufficiently finishes laughing to himself. “But I really do have to commend you for your thorough investigation into me; however, I will say these two things. One. The mere fact that you feel the need to question what is widely accepted around you proves beyond a doubt you are in the right profession. Two. You know little to nothing about me and my character except for what was scratched onto a digital document years ago.”
I feel my jaw slacken. Is it that obvious that I investigated him? That is it!
“Mr. Ballard, I need you to come back to the precinct with me,” I say firmly, my emotions trying to turn back on instead of letting my work brain do its thing.
“Oh? Why is that?” asks Nathaniel as he pulls his hands from his pockets and places them behind his back. He turns his head to the side as if to mock me. At least, that is what I assume at this point.
“Additional questioning,” I say curtly. “I need to make sure I get a proper statement from you. Since you were on the scene first, your account is vital.”
Was that a bit of hesitance in his obsidian eyes? Maybe. One thing I know for sure is that he eventually nods his head reluctantly.
“Very well,” he sighs. “Should I meet you there at the office? Or should I ride in the backseat after you and the others finish processing the scene and gathering evidence?”
I want to shove him in the backseat with handcuffs, but I manage to restrain myself.
“Just wait here until we finish processing the scene,” I order as I turn and head over to my partner, who I only now notice is watching my interaction with Nathaniel. I stalk over to him as I see the others photographing the scene.
“What was that about?” asks Wates as he brings his hands up to warm them with a few puffs of his breath.
“I,” I hesitate. How can I tell him I was doing the thing he didn’t want me to do? Out with it. “I am bringing Mr. Ballard in for questioning.”
“What?” Wates hisses. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Wates, hear me out. He was here before we were at the scene. He has done things like this in cases prior. He was dodgy when I asked how he knew where the crime scene was. Something is up,” I urge. Wates simply shakes his head.
“Knight, you are in way over your head. The guy was here before us. He has done that before,” says Wates.
“Precisely the point! Something is off about the guy. Even if I don’t question him about this, I still want to hear his account of events on the record,” I say firmly.
My gut is never wrong about these things. There is something weird about Nathaniel Ballard, but what?
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone