by Roy Glenn
“Take it easy, Reyes. I’m not here to run heat on you. We’re just two cops following up on some new leads we got from the ME, that’s all. All I’m saying is the shit didn’t happen that way. Let’s get to work and figure out how it did happen. Now what did he handcuff her to?”
“One of those chairs would be my guess,” Reyes said and began walking toward them, while Kirk looked around the rest of the room. Reyes checked the chairs and the rest of the area carefully and couldn’t find any marks on the chairs or anything else that indicated that Shy was handcuffed and beat there. “Nothing.”
“Anybody check the rest of the house?” Kirk asked.
“We didn’t.”
“What about Goodson and Harris; they clear the rest of the house?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Well let’s have a look around,” Kirk said shaking his head as he left the room. Once the two men got to the foyer, Reyes looked puzzled as Kirk reached for the doorknob.
“I thought you wanted to look around the house?” Reyes asked.
“I wanna have a look around outside the house too.”
Kirk and Reyes walked around the house, looking carefully for anything out of the ordinary. They made it around to the kitchen door and checked it over before moving on. When they got to the basement door, the result of their search was different.
“Take a look at this,” Kirk said kneeling in front of the door. Kirk stood up and moved out of the way so Reyes could get a look. He reached in his bag and looked at the doorknob through a magnifying glass. “What do you think?” Kirk asked.
“This lock’s been forced. The marks are small, almost unnoticeable. At night, with just a flashlight, I might have missed this,” Reyes admitted.
“Black told me that the alarm was on when he got home and it’s always on when she was in the house by herself.”
“If the alarm was on forcing that door would definitely set it off. Unless somebody disabled it. But he says the alarm was on, so that would also mean they would have had to disable the alarm, forced the lock, and reset the alarm.”
“Then how do you explain those marks?” Kirk asked.
Reyes thought for a second before answering. “Maybe Black was setting it up to look like somebody had broken in.”
“So, what you’re saying is that after he killed his wife, he came out here and jimmied the lock to make it look like a break in. And while he was doing that, he got rid of the handcuffs, and the rest of that stuff.” Kirk paused for a second. “He wouldn’t have a lot of time, so he couldn’t have got far, it’s all gotta be around here somewhere. But why not stash the gun?”
“Maybe he stashed that stuff and went back for the gun.”
“Or the gun and the body?” Kirk added.
“And he just ran out of time.”
“He said he got a ride here. Maybe Simmons waited outside for him. He could have taken the stuff out to the car and been going back for her and the gun. Or if Simmons was gone, he could have put it in his own car.” Kirk looked around. “Did you check the garage?”
“No,” Reyes said flatly.
Kirk turned to walk toward the garage. “Let’s have a look inside.”
Once they were back in the house, Kirk went into the living room. “Black said when he talked to her that she was in here watching TV.”
The living room was a good size room, nicely decorated with two chairs on opposite sideS of a picture window that faced the street, and an entertainment center with every device imaginable, with a big screen television that covered one of the walls. A couch lined the other wall and a high back chair that sat facing the television. Next to the chair was a table and a lamp on it.
“If it’s anything like at my house, that’s her spot on the couch and this is his chair. The only thing missing,” Kirk said and looked around the room and then pointed. “Is the foot stool. And what is it doing over there? It’s not really close enough to that chair for somebody to be using it with that chair.”
“Somebody sitting on the stool talking to somebody sitting in the chair, maybe.”
“Maybe.”
“Hello, what do we have here?” Reyes said staring at the lampshade. He turned on the lamp to get a better look.
“What you got?” Kirk asked.
“Blood. A couple of small spots.” Reyes stepped aside to let Kirk have a look. While Kirk examined the blood on the lampshade, Reyes looked at the chair. “I got more on this chair. Definitely blood splatter,” he said and went in his bag to get his collection tools to get a sample of the blood for testing.
Kirk stood in front of the chair. “Okay, this is where the beating took place. That’s why the stool is over there. I think she was cuffed to this chair and the killer stood right where I’m standing and hit her.” Kirk made mock swings with both hands then pointed to what was now an obvious pattern.
Reyes pulled out his cell phone. “I need to get my team down here.”
“I think that’s a good idea.”
When Reyes’s team got to the scene, they wasted no time covering the house. This time it wasn’t just a bag it and tag it exercise. If they had done everything by the book the last time, this time was much more thorough. By the time his team arrived, Reyes had set up barriers around the property. He assigned a man to control the entry or exit of all people entering and leaving the established boundaries. Now Reyes was very concerned about maintaining the integrity of the scene. He quickly assigned two officers to examine the basement door, the basement itself and the surrounding area.
Before the team left the crime scene, they had accumulated more evidence. Although they didn’t find the handcuffs, or the gag, or whatever instrument was used to administer the nitrous oxide, a partial footprint was discovered in the area of the basement door. A cast was made of the partial footprint. However, there was no way of determining when the footprint was left or when the lock was forced.
What they discovered inside provided more information on how the crime was actually committed. Now they were certain that the beating took place in the living room. In addition to the blood on the chair and lamp, they found several small drops of blood leading into the kitchen.
“What’s surprising is that the trail stopped at the kitchen floor.”
“I think the killer had to have cleaned the blood from the kitchen floor so the trail wouldn’t be followed back to the living room,” Reyes speculated, and Kirk agreed.
Detectives Goodson and Harris heard about what was going on at the crime scene and came over there. “What the fuck is going on here?” Goodson demanded to know. He didn’t appreciate Kirk checking behind him.
“We’re investigating a crime, detective,” Kirk said and stepped closer to Goodson.
Reyes quickly got in between the two detectives and explained what they had found there, but Kirk never mentioned the issues he had with the timeline. Knowing how the crime was committed didn’t prove that Black didn’t kill her.
“None of this changes anything. As far as I’m concerned, we got the right man!” Goodson said and stormed off.
Chapter Nineteen
Freeze hung up the phone with Mylo and got back in his truck. He had been in the street since early that morning trying to find Birdie or any information about Shy’s murder. Tanya had been calling him at various times throughout the morning, but he didn’t answer. When he finally did answer, he was surprised that Tanya wasn’t tripping. “I only wanted to know of you were all right. I was worried,” Tanya said.
“Yeah, I’m a’ight. Just got some shit I need to handle.”
“When can I see you again?”
“I don’t want you anywhere around me until this is over.”
“But you can’t tell me when that will be?”
“No.”
“Can’t you at least tell me what’s going on?”
“Look, Tanya, the less you know about what I do the better. You’re not part of this world and that’s how you gonna stay,” Freeze tol
d her.
“I love you,” Tanya said and hung up the phone.
Freeze closed his phone and cracked a smile. Tanya was so different than Paulleen. If it had been Paulleen calling, she’d be losing her mind because he was never around.
I guess that’s why the bitch was out fuckin’ everybody.
Just like Tanya had been calling Freeze all day, he’d been trying to call Nick, but he wasn’t answering either his home phone or his cell phone. He had driven by Nick’s house, but Freeze didn’t see Nick’s car, so he drove on the first time. The second time he drove by Nick’s apartment, even though he didn’t see Nick’s car, he stopped and went inside.
Since Freeze had a key, he let himself in. He searched the apartment and didn’t find anything out of place from the last time he had been there. He sat down on the couch and wondered where Nick could be. It wasn’t like Nick not to take his calls no matter what he was doing.
But to not hear from him at all, especially at a time like this, with Black in jail and Shy dead really worried him. He had called Wanda at her office, but her secretary told Freeze that Wanda called and said she wouldn’t be in for the day. Freeze called her at home, but he got no answer. He tried her cell, but the result was the same, voicemail.
Where the fuck is everybody?
Freeze began to think about the possibility that something may have happened to them. Why else wouldn’t I be able to get in touch with either one of them?
The idea that Birdie had killed Shy and may have killed Nick and Wanda made Freeze furious. He sprang to his feet and left the apartment, slamming the door behind him. Freeze walked a very determined walk to his truck and got in. He banged both fist against the steering wheel.
Although he hadn’t told Nick or Wanda, Freeze felt responsible for this entire situation. Not only for what happened between Shy and Birdie at Cuisine, but he was supposed to come by the house that night and see Shy. She called Freeze and told him the Black was on his way home and that he wanted Freeze to wait for him.
He resented Shy and the way she ordered him around, so that night he said, fuck it! If Black wanna see me when he gets there he knows how to call.
He was probably the last person Shy talked to. If he would have just went over there when she called him none of this would be happening.
Freeze started up the car and sped away. He was responsible for Shy being dead and Black being in jail. The thought kept rolling around in his mind as he drove. It didn’t matter how long it took or what he had to do; Freeze vowed to make this right. He would find Birdie, and everyone involved and kill them.
Freeze tried to call Nick again, but still didn’t get an answer. It wasn’t long before he found himself driving down Black’s street. There were police vehicles parked in front of the house and the area around the house was taped off. Freeze drove slowly as he passed the house. He picked up his phone and called Sergeant Adams. “Property, Sergeant Adams,” she answered.
“What’s up Sergeant Adams?”
“How you doing, baby?”
“Not good. There are a lot of police at Black’s house.”
“Now? What would they be doing there now?”
“That’s what you need to find out. Call me back,” Freeze said quickly and hung up the phone.
Freeze drove up on the avenue and passed a liquor store. Figuring that he could use a drink, Freeze parked his car and when inside. He brought a half pint of Remy Martin VSOP, and left the store. Freeze cracked the bottle as soon as he got out of the store. When he started walking back to his car, Freeze saw two faces he knew drive by in a white Rodeo. He recognized them from the other night at The Spot.
“That’s the mutha fucka got his face slammed in the bar.”
Freeze knew that Birdie was too much of a bitch to do the shit himself, wouldn’t wanna get his hands dirty. No, Birdie was the type of nigga that would send somebody. He would send them.
Freeze drained the bottle and threw it in a nearby trashcan. He walked quickly toward the Rodeo, which was now stopped at a red light. Freeze removed his gun from his waist just as he got to the passenger window. He raised his weapon and fired into the car. When Freeze lowered his weapon, the clip was empty, and Lonnie and Smiley were dead. Freeze put his gun back in his waist. As the car rolled into the intersection, Freeze walked back to his car, got in and drove away.
Chapter Twenty
Mike Black
Now what was that all about?
I sat on the floor in the corner of my cell, thinking. I didn’t come out of the fight too bad. A few bumps and bruises on my arms and ribs from being kicked. And my neck is still sore from getting choked, other than that I’m all right. One of the men who came after me got a fractured skull; the other two were just knocked out. So far, nobody’s said anything to me about the fight, or about charging me with assault.
A couple of suits came in and looked in on me while I was in the infirmary. They were more interested in what I was saying. One of them asked the guard that brought me in if I had said anything.
“The only thing he said sir was he wanted to know how’d they get in there. Other than that, I haven’t heard a peep out of him,” the guard answered.
Then he came and told me that I was being taken to administrative segregation for my own protection and left.
I haven’t slept much, couldn’t sleep, too much on my mind to sleep. Those were Aryans. I haven’t done any business with any Aryans, ever. So why would they come after me?
My head feels like it’s gonna bust open.
What the fuck is going on?
If I wasn’t sure of it before, I’m convinced now that this was a set up. Killing Cassandra was just the first part of it. That’s why the cops were there so fast. Killing her was set up so I’d be caught at the scene. Arrested and in that cell. That’s where they wanted me. I was supposed to die in that cell. That was their plan for me.
But who?
Why not just kill me, why kill her just to get me arrested and killed in here? I’m sure that all that will turn out to be very useful for Wanda when we go to trial, but I still had to live that long. One thing that I was sure of was that if somebody wanted you dead in here your gonna die. Nowhere to run, don’t know who your enemies are, who sold you out for a pack of cigarettes. Was it safe to eat the food? Or would I hang myself in my cell? Or maybe I’ll sharpen that plastic fork and stab myself in the juggler vein. I know that there had to be a least one guard involved, maybe more. No way I was safer in segregation.
Somebody went to a lot of trouble to set this up. Somebody with resources. Power and money.
Who did I piss off with power and money?
Gomez would fit into that category, but I still don’t think he could pull something together that fast. Besides, he wouldn’t send Aryans to kill me, there’s plenty of homeboys in here that Gomez could reach out to.
I laid down on the bed and thought about Cassandra. I wondered but knew I couldn’t think of a time when I ever felt this much pain. She was everything to me. I loved her so much. I changed my life for her. I never thought about a future that didn’t include her. Now she was gone.
That took everything from me.
And maybe that was the point. I took something from somebody, and this is their revenge. They wanted me to feel this pain before I died in that cell. And maybe I should have let them. Let them stab me in the heart, ’cause I have nothing left.
I rolled over thinking that changing positions would somehow change the things I was thinking about. But it didn’t work; Cassandra was still on my mind. I thought about the dream I had on the way back from Miami. Interesting that I would dream about the day I met Regina on the day Cassandra died.
I should have died that night. Them mutha fucka’s had me, no gun, hands up, waiting to die. I didn’t see him coming up behind them, I just heard the shots.
Bobby stepped out of the shadows. “I can’t let you out of my sight for a minute, can I?” Bobby asked. “Can’t even take a piss in
peace. I’m standing there with my dick in my hand and I heard gun shots.”
“How did you find me?”
“Followed the gun shots and banged up cars until I found yours. Knew you couldn’t have gone too far on foot, so I drove around until I saw this asshole going down the alley with his gun out. The rest was pretty easy,” Bobby said as we got in his car.
“Thanks, Bob.”
“Yeah, I know, I saved your life, again. But I’ll tell you what, next time I go to the bathroom you’re coming with me. You wanna act like a little kid then I’ma treat you like one.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
After that, we went by André’s. He got a kick outta my I almost got killed tonight story, then he put us back to work. André sent us out to Long Island to collect fifty grand from a guy name Gordon Hicks.
Gordon wasn’t involved in the game; he was in construction. He was the little brother of some guy André used to run with. Gordon was sub-contracting the electrical work on some big job. He needed the money to make payroll and other expenses until he got his draw down from the general contractor. When the banks wouldn’t loan him the money against the contract, he came to André, who gladly gave him the money in exchange for the fifty he loaned him plus part of his company.
“After the night you had you can use an easy run,” André laughed. “He’s having a party tonight, celebrating finally getting that money. You and Bobby go on out there, drink up his liquor, fuck some of his women and bring me my money. You shouldn’t have any problems, he called and said come get it. But if he don’t have it all, make sure you bring him to a new understanding.”
So, me and Bobby drove out there, and Gordon had the money waiting. Bobby wanted to head back to the city right away, but I saw a few women that I was interested in, so I wasn’t ready to go.
“Why don’t you take the money and go?”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, shit, yeah, I’ll be all right. I need to fuck new pussy tonight, and I saw a big amazon bitch that I wanna see naked. And what’s up with you? I saw a couple that are your type. Skinny as a rail, flat as a board, with a juicy ass.”
