The Fury - Jason Pinter [20]
a two-level structure that sat next to a taller tower, both
with sloped, tiled roofs. The sign outside read City of
Bend Police and underneath that read Public Works.
I parked the car in a lot in back and we ran around
to the entrance. Inside we refused to leave, or sit down,
until we either spoke with my father or an officer who
could tell us just what the hell was going on. My
stomach was tied in knots. Though I'd long ago learned
to give up loving my father, I knew this man wasn't,
couldn't be a killer. Not to mention I couldn't even
imagine what kind of evidence they had that would
enable a warrant to be issued so quickly.
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63
From everything Makhoulian and Binks told me, it
seemed as if Gaines was murdered. Not an impulse
killing, but exterminated. How could the cops be so
blind? How could they possibly connect my father to
this when he was in Bend the whole time?
For perhaps the first time in my life, I found myself
feeling sorry for the man. He was alone, scared,
accused of a crime beyond comprehension. It was all
bogus, though. No doubt there was some mistake and
he'd be released.
I tried to call my mother, but she didn't have a cell
phone. I left a message at home, hoped she would find
it.
Finally after an hour of waiting, a cop approached
us where we stood. He was about forty, lean, with
salt-and-pepper hair, a square jaw and dark, tan skin.
His badge read Whalin. We stood up, desperate to
hear why they'd taken my father in for such a horren
dous crime.
"You must be Henry," the cop said. He offered his
hand. I looked at him, then shook it grudgingly. "I'm
Captain Ted Whalin of the BPD. I'm in charge of the
criminal investigations division."
"Where's my father?" I demanded.
"Your father is in a holding cell. Tomorrow he'll
have to go before a judge to be properly processed.
There is an outstanding warrant for his arrest in New
York City for the murder of Stephen Gaines."
"That's impossible," I said. "First of all, Stephen
Gaines is his son. And second, my father's never even
been to New York."
Whalin looked confused. "I can't go into specifics,"
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Jason Pinter
Whalin said, "but the warrant states that physical
evidence does exist that links James Parker to the
crime."
"That's impossible," I said again. "I don't think he's
left the state in twenty years."
"That's not up to me to determine," Whalin said.
"If he's wanted for murder in New York," Amanda
said, "won't he be extradited?"
"That depends on him," Whalin continued. "When
he goes before Judge Rawling tomorrow, he'll have the
opportunity to sign what's called a nonjudicial waiver
of expedition."
"What does that mean?" I asked.
Whalin said, "It means that he agrees that he is in fact
the same James Parker wanted on this murder charge.
If he accepts the charge, he'll be brought back to New
York City where he'll be entered into their system.
Though that might be a problem."
"What do you mean?"
"We believe that your father is the James Parker
referred to in this warrant. We know he has a relation
ship with Stephen Gaines..."
"That's not true," I said. "They didn't actually know
each other at all."
"Regardless," Whalin said, "it'd be a mighty coinci
dence if the NYPD happens to be looking for a com
pletely different James Parker in regards to the murder
of Stephen Gaines. Wouldn't you agree?"
I didn't have to. The odds were pretty nonexistent.
"As of right now, your father is refusing to grant the
nonjudicial waiver." Whalin said this with frustration
evident on his face.
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65
Amanda said, "And what happens if he refuses to
sign it?"
"Then it's our job to prove that he is--or is not--the
James Parker referred to in this warrant. We'll take fin
gerprints, blood samples, and confirm with one hundred
percent accuracy that he is James Parker. Of course, all
that testing takes an awful long time, which means..."
"He stays locked up in your jail until he's extradited."
"Consider it time not served. Not a second of time he
spends in prison here will be taken off any