The Truth About Gretchen

by Alretha Thomas

  “We’re hanging in there,” I say.

  “I’m Kate of Kate & Al’s Diner in Shady Grove.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Detective Williams says. “Why don’t we sit?”

  We all do so. Detective Williams tugs on his tie and says, “I apologize for being so dismissive the first time we met. A lot has been revealed since that meeting. I started my law enforcement career in Los Angeles. I’ve only been with the Shady Grove Police Department for a few years. While I was putting away Robert’s murder case files, I discovered something that made my stomach turn. Something I wasn’t supposed to see. Apparently, a white supremacist organization operated within the force, whose sole purpose was to harass black and Hispanic residents. A former captain sanctioned this organization.

  “Jeffrey Barnes, the brother of Buford Barnes,” Regina says.

  Detective Williams’s face creases.

  “We know all about it,” Kate says.

  “Detective Williams, Buford Barnes was there the night my brother was killed. We found an eyewitness. Her name is Bertha Winter. She lives in Gurber Village. She told us that she saw a man standing over my brother, with a gun in his hand. That man was Coach John Crawford of the Dallas Enforcers. He killed my brother after Matt Simmons committed suicide. He blamed my brother for Matt’s death and wanted revenge. Buford Barnes gave the coach the ace of spades card to put in my brother’s pocket, so it would look like a gang killed Robert. Buford threatened Bertha, and that’s why she never told the police her story. Jeffrey and Buford’s sister, Nancy, is married to the coach. That’s why they covered for him.”

  Kate shakes her head. “I looked up that damn coach on a website that shows people’s net worth. Thanks to his investments, that prick is worth almost a billion dollars. I’m sure Jeffrey, Buford, and that goon are on his payroll.”

  Detective Williams gives us a faint smile. “You ladies stole my thunder. Amazing. Yeah, the coach is loaded. He makes more in interest in one month than the average cop does in a year. You have to be a very principled and a strong person to resist falling prey to people like Coach Crawford. Most people aren’t that strong, including me.”

  My heart jumps in my throat when Detective Williams takes his gun out of his waistband and points it at us. “Over there on the sofa. All of you.”

  we hold hands and flop down on the sofa. I feel like I’m sinking into quicksand again. Regina squeezes my hand, and I return the squeeze.

  “Why couldn’t you just go about your business? Why couldn’t you leave well enough alone? Dammit!”

  “I wonder what your dead sister would think about what you’re doing,” Regina blurts.

  “What dead sister?” he says, laughing. “I actually became a cop after I got busted for selling drugs. The narc who collared me told me he would let me go if I promised to change my ways. He inspired me to go into law enforcement. Anyway, I had to get you ladies to trust me. I know most women love a good sob story.”

  Except Detective Williams, we all jump at the sound of a knock on the door. He goes to it and flings it open. Detective Garcia, Buford, and the goon, strut into the condo.

  The goon, still wearing the suit, stoops and gets in my face, spittle dangling from the corner of his mouth. “Bitch, I told you to back off. Now I’m gonna have to kill ya.”

  “Speaking of killing, did you take care of Bertha Winter?” Williams ask.

  “Done,” the Goon says, standing and puffing out his chest.

  Regina gasps, and tears trickle down her face.

  I feel helpless, lost. Everything we did, all the research, the transporting—it was all for nothing. Robert won’t get justice, and we’re going to end up buried somewhere, probably in Shady Grove. I’ll never see Lance or my parents again. They were right. I should have listened.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, wondering what Robert would do. Why did he haunt my dreams? It must have been for a reason. When I open my eyes, they land on Regina’s phone on the TV cabinet. A call is still live on that phone. What was the last call? It was to the Dancing Hills Police Department. But the call dropped, didn’t it? Maybe Officer Brown is still on the phone. And maybe I’m just wishfully thinking.

  I have to keep them from taking us away from here. Once they relocate us, it’s curtains.

  “You know what?” I say, and all heads turn my way. Regina and Kate’s eyes double in size.

  “Bitch—”

  “Let her talk, Wilbur. Let her say her last words,” Buford says.

  So the goon has a name. “Don’t you want to know how we figured everything out?” I say.

  “Not particularly,” Buford says.

  “Bertha Winter told you,” Detective Williams says.

  “That’s not how we figured it out,” Kate says.

  “Gretchen is the reincarnation of my brother.”

  The men break into husky laughter. “I told you they were crazy,” Detective Garcia says.

  “We need to get on the road,” Williams says. “Coach wants this wrapped up, so he can focus on the Super Bowl. This is his last one. He wants to go out with a win.”

  “Okay, ladies, rise and shine.” Detective Williams motions for us to get up from the sofa. “Hands on your heads.”

  We stand, and before I can place my hands on my head, Wilbur snatches off my wig. “Nice try with the switcheroo. You watch too many movies. You think you fooled me. What a joke.”

  My eyes burn, and I fight back angry tears. These assholes almost killed Patty. No way I’m letting them see me cry.

  “Where are your cell phones?” Detective Garcia says.

  “I don’t have mine. I left it at the diner,” I say.

  The men exchange incredulous looks. Then Buford points to Regina’s phone on the TV table, and my heart drops to the floor. He grabs the phone. “Whose is this?”

  “Mine,” Regina says.

  Buford pauses, and sweat beads on the back of my neck while I wait for him to notice that there’s a live call on the phone. But he doesn’t, because it’s no longer there. My hope had been wishful thinking after all.

  “And where’s yours?”

  “In my bosom,” Kate says.

  Buford jabs her in the chest and snatches it. Then he hands it to her and says, “Call her.”

  “Call who?”

  “Red, you dumb bitch. And put it on speaker.”

  My pet name coming out of his grotesque mouth fills my stomach with acid. I gag when it creeps up the back of my throat. Kate trembles and fumbles. “Hurry up!” Wilbur screams.

  She clicks on my number, and the room is so quiet you can hear the refrigerator humming. After six rings my voice fills the room. You’ve reached Gretchen Holloway. I’m probably in a casting session. Leave a message, and—”

  “Enough,” Buford says, snatching the phone.

  “I told you I don’t have it,” I say.

  He thrusts Kate’s and Regina’s phones into his pocket. Regina’s eyes lock on me, then dip to the floor near the sofa. Then she says, “Do you have to point that gun in our faces?”

  The gun. She put my gun under the sofa. There’s no way I can reach the gun or even get it out of the pouch in time. And if I could get it, it’s no match against Detective Williams’s gun, and the other guys are probably packing too. The men motion for us to start walking, and the Tom Brady quote fills my head: To me, football is so much about mental toughness, it’s digging deep, it’s doing whatever you need to do to help a team win and that comes in a lot of shapes and forms. We have to win, and we can’t let them take us from this location.

  Buford, Detective Garcia, and Wilbur, walk ahead of us toward the front door. Detective Williams remains behind us, his gun aimed at my back. Regina and Kate are in front of me. Once the three men in front step outside, it’ll be three of us and one Detective Williams. But he has the gun. I don’t think they want a gun to go off in here. They don’t want to make a mess. They don’t want to leave any evidence or loose ends.

  If Kate shuts an
d locks the door after Buford, Detective Garcia, and Wilbur walk out, the three of us can tackle Detective Williams. Granted, somebody may end up shot in the process, maybe even killed. But he can’t kill all three of us. The others would have to shoot the door down, and that would draw too much attention. Plus, we’ll have Detective Williams’s gun and my gun. This is it—I’m going for a Hail Mary.

  Buford opens the door and steps out. Garcia follows. Then Wilbur steps over the threshold.

  “Shut the door, Kate!”

  She slams and locks it, and Detective Williams is so shocked he stumbles backward. We pounce on him and take his gun. Regina reaches under the sofa, gets my .22 out of the pouch, and waits near the door, which the other men are trying to kick in. I point Detective Williams’s gun at his head. “Now who’s the dumb bitch?”

  The banging at the door is upstaged by sirens blaring and the sound of a helicopter hovering over the condominium building.

  “Police. Stop, and put your hands up.”

  Regina opens the door and peeps out. “Be careful,” I say.

  Regina backs into the condo when a group of Dancing Hills police officers rush in.

  She quickly sets the gun on the table and raises her hands. “Why are you surrendering? You’re not the crook. He is,” Kate says, pointing at Detective Williams.

  “I’d rather be safe than sorry,” Regina says.

  “I’ll take that,” one of the officer says. I hand him Detective Williams’s gun. They take him out in handcuffs.

  A distinguished-looking man, and a woman who could pass for a younger version of Hillary Clinton, walks into the condo. They take out their wallets and flash their badges. My lips curve into a smile when I see FBI.

  “I’m Agent Winifred Turner, and this is Agent Linda Cramer. Ladies, you’ve done in a few days what we’ve been trying to do for more than two decades.”

  “Thank you,” we say.

  “How did you know to come here?” I ask.

  “Someone named Sarah Ferguson—”

  “Hot damn. She got my text,” Kate says, interrupting Agent Turner. “When I went back to get the food from my diner, I brought Sarah up to speed. And when that idiot told me to call Gretchen’s cell, I sent Sarah a quick 911 text beforehand. I had told Sarah to call the Dancing Hills Police Department if she got a 911 text from me.”

  “Actually, she called the Dancing Hills Police Department and your family members over an hour ago. She said she felt you and the other ladies were in danger, especially after the news reported that Gretchen had been attacked. She told us about Coach John Crawford, the officers involved, that they had attacked Patricia Crowley, and the corruption. The latter we’ve been aware of for some time. We were on our way before the 911 call.”

  Regina, Kate, and I sigh with relief. But my relief subsides when I realize we still don’t have solid proof and that the only eyewitness, besides me, is dead.

  “Excuse me.”

  The freckle-faced female officer from the Shady Grove Police Department steps into the condo, with an envelope under her arm. I almost didn’t recognize her in her expensive-looking blue suit. She beckons to the agents, and they follow her outside. The remaining officers began cordoning off the condo as a crime scene.

  “I wonder what she wants,” Regina says.

  “I don’t know,” I say.

  “Who is she?” Kate says.

  “She’s a Shady Grove cop,” I say. “Probably crooked like the others.”

  The agents soon return. “Agent Bradley brought us a little gift. Something we’ve been after for quite a while.”

  “Agent?” Regina and I say.

  “Yes. She’s been working undercover at the Shady Grove Police Department for a year now and has never been able to get her hands on the Robert Parker files without arousing suspicion. We assumed everything had been destroyed. You ladies have no idea how much you’ve helped our investigation. Do you play cards?”

  “Yes,” we say.

  He removes a plastic bag, and our mouths drop open when we feast our eyes on the bloody ace of spades.

  “That’s the card Coach Crawford put in my pocket,” I blurt.

  The agents share confused looks. Agent Turner folds his arms across his chest and says, “What do you mean ‘your pocket’?”

  Kate nudges Regina, who says, “Agent Turner, she meant to say that’s the card the eyewitness, Bertha Winter, told me that she saw Coach Crawford put in my brother’s pocket. I’m sure if you check, you’ll find Coach Crawford’s prints on that card. He wanted people to believe that a gang shot my brother. You also need to check all flight logs from Dallas to Los Angeles the last week of December 1990. Coach Crawford should show up on one of those flights. Also check rental car records for that same week. He rented a white Mercedes. He murdered my brother because of Matt Simmons’s death. He blamed my brother. Buford and Jeffrey Barnes covered everything up.”

  The agents, with raised brows, stand in silence. Agent Turner, nodding, says, “When Robert Parker was killed, the Bureau suspected that there was foul play on the part of the Shady Grove Police Department because of numerous incidents involving questionable police-related shootings and other allegations of corruption. Captain Jeffrey Barnes fought to keep us from getting involved. We knew about the gang’s calling card because the media reported on it. And we knew there were crime scene photos of the card, but we were told the actual card was missing—in fact, a lot of evidence went missing. I’m sure Coach Crawford and the Barnes Brothers believed they’d gotten away with murder. Over the years, Buford Barnes recruited other officers in the department to continue a pattern of corruption, to do his bidding and the bidding of those he worked for—namely, Coach Crawford. Detectives Williams and Garcia were part of that circle.

  “In their effort to prove to you and Regina that a gang killed Robert, Detectives Williams and Garcia unwittingly uncovered Robert’s files, including the ace of spades. Under Williams and Garcia’s direction, she returned the files to their undisclosed and hidden location. That’s when she obtained the card. We believe that Buford Barnes didn’t destroy everything because he wanted to have leverage, in case things turned sour with Coach Crawford.”

  “We’re not sure what prompted you ladies to start investigating Robert’s murder, but we’re glad you did. Thank you,” Agent Carter interjects.

  “We probably need to thank Robert,” Kate says.

  The room fills with nervous laughter.

  The agents usher us out of the condo, and our eyes widen when we reach the front of the building.

  Chapter 36

  Regina

  The street has been blocked off, and there are patrol cars, cops, news vans, reporters, cameras, lookie-loos, and several hovering helicopters make the area look like an action-adventure movie scene.

  At last—Robert will get justice.

  My throat convulses, and I try not to cry. I don’t want to be shown on TV bawling my eyes out, but the enormity of what has happened—how close we came to being killed, that Robert’s case almost went unsolved, and our bravery and how we stuck together and relied on each other—overwhelms me. I fall to my knees, in a heap of snot and happy tears. My hands cover my face as I rock back and forth. I look up when I feel a heavy, familiar hand on my shoulder.

  “Regina, baby. I’m here, sweetie.”

  “Taylor? What are you doing here?”

  He lifts me into his arms and whisks me to one of many ambulances parked in front of the building. He sets me on the cot and sits next to me. “Baby, the world is here. You just solved a major case. You found out who killed Robert. I’m so proud of you.”

  “I didn’t do it alone. Gretchen is the reincarnation of Robert. Without her memories, I don’t think we would have found his killer.”

  “I believe you, baby.”

  “Kate helped me, and Gretchen helped. Cookie and Sarah—so many people.”

  He drops his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t help you.”

  “
But you didn’t stop me either,” I say, rubbing his back.

  “I couldn’t stop you because you and that daughter of mine were scheming like crazy.”

  We laugh and turn toward my mother, Curt, and Cookie approaching. My mother stands at the back of the ambulance, tears streaming down her cheeks. I climb out, and we hug. She squeezes me so tight; I struggle to breathe. I pull out of our embrace, and she cups my face in her hands. “Did they hurt you?”

  “No, Ma, I’m fine. I don’t need an ambulance.”

  “They bring them as a precaution,” Taylor says.

  “How did you guys find me?”

  Cookie, bouncing up and down says, “Sarah from the diner called me from Gretchen’s phone. She said she went through Gretchen’s contacts, and my name was the first one with ICE (in case of emergency) behind it. She called Gretchen’s family too. She told me everything, and I let the family know. It’s all over the news too. You guys are heroes. They’re calling you guys the new Charlie’s Angels.”

  My eyes move from Cookie’s smiling face to Curt’s tear-streaked face. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Regina. Lord knows I am.”

  “Curt, you said Lord!” I say.

  We all laugh, and I hold on to my family, basking in their love and support. I look up at the sky, and my heart flutters when I see a double rainbow. Thank you, Bro!

  “Hey, Regina,” Kate says, walking up with Gus on her arm.

  “Hey, you,” I say and shoot her a mischievous look.

  “Look who decided to show up after the war,” she says.

  “Hi, Gus,” I say. “Kate was amazing.”

  “She always has been. Unfortunately, it took me almost losing her to find that out.”

  They gaze into each other’s eyes. I wait for the moment to pass, then introduce them to my family.

  “Where’s Gretchen?” I ask.

  “Those reporters nabbed her,” Kate says. “She asked me to find you. She says this was a team effort. She doesn’t want all the glory.” I look toward my family, and their eyes tell me to go ahead. I hug them once more, then Kate and I join Gretchen.