by Darrell King
As Valentino moved his tight muscular body on top of her, she literally begged for him to fulfill her wanton desire with the type of long, stiff satisfaction he’d given her so many times before. And as always, he met her womanly needs as only he could. He stroked, ever so slowly, deeply penetrating her. He filled her up and worked her vaginal walls with precise, steady thrusts, stimulating her G-spot with each rocking movement. Kee-Kee was now drunk with pleasure, and she spread her thick thighs and shapely calves far above the wide, sinewy back of her man.
“Fuck…me harder! Pl…please!” panted Kee-Kee as she clamped her nails into her lover’s tight buttocks, encouraging him to pump himself into her with more force. He obliged and taking her legs into his arms, rocked her with brute force, bringing the 23-year-old woman to a blanket-soaking climax and causing her to cry out in ecstasy. Moments later, Valentino grunted loudly as his massive penis spasmed twice, spurting out stream after thick stream of dense semen deep into Kee-Kee’s dripping pussy.
At the exact same time back in P.G. County, Maryland, Kee-Kee’s older sister, Yasmin, woke up momentarily out of her long coma, let out a blood-curdling scream and collapsed back down onto her hospital bed. Her vital signs flat lined, bringing scores of doctors and nurses racing into her room. Instantly, the hospital staff went to work frantically trying to save the dying woman’s life. Sadly, all efforts to revive her failed, and at 2:22 a.m. on December 2, 1997, Yasmin Nicole Reeves was pronounced dead. She was only 27 years old.
Upon the following autopsy report, the hospital coroner reported that Yasmin’s death was due to complications from an AIDS-like virus that had aggressively attacked her immune system and caused her death in a relatively short span of time from incubation. Because of the conflict of the coroner’s report with the test the doctors had run on Yasmin, this report was not released due to the uncertainty of the final diagnosis. Ultimately, before the body was released to the J.B. Jenkins Funeral Home, the cause of death was classified as acute pneumonia. Yasmin was laid to rest seven days later, on December 9. Her memorial service drew a multitude of teary-eyed mourners from all across P.G. County and the greater region, filling up the spacious sanctuary of Shiloh Baptist Church of Glenarden. Many of her closest friends attended the solemn service, including TaKeisha. She was hurting tremendously over Yasmin’s passing, but was nevertheless strong for Kee-Kee, who sobbed hysterically throughout the service and even more so at her late sister’s burial site in Harmony Cemetery an hour and a half later. TaKeisha wished she could have spent more quality time with Yasmin while she lived out the final weeks of her life at the hospital. TaKeisha, however ,had been overwhelmed with responsibilities at both school and work since returning home from Florida some time earlier.
As expected, Kee-Kee took her older sister’s death quite hard—so hard that, along with the help of his mother, Sergeant Williams had to take over the parenting duties of Jeremy Jr. Kee-Kee had a nervous breakdown a week after Yasmin’s burial. By mid-December, Kee-Kee received word from her healthcare provider that she’d tested positive for HIV and that she’d have to come in the clinic for a battery of tests to be absolutely sure.
For three weeks, Kee-Kee underwent a series of medical tests to determine her physical status. By the 29th of December, it was determined that Kee-Kee did indeed have HIV; however, her doctor was amazed as to the rapid and aggressive spread of the virus from invasion period to incubation period. The time period from invasion to infection normally would take from five to ten years. But for Kee-Kee it had only taken a few months for the invasion period to the dangerous yet inactive incubation period.
Kee-Kee was informed of this unbelievable finding and she was questioned about her sex life and past partners. Immediately and angrily, Kee-Kee fingered her latest loverboy was the culprit; yet he seemed to appear just fine. When the P.G. Health Department rounded up eight of the nine men whom Kee-Kee had named, all tested negative for the virus with the exception of a certain Simon Harker, who could not be found. It finally dawned on Kee-Kee how utterly stupid and reckless she’d been concerning her health. She had not an address for her so-called “Boo,” either at home or work because the two always hooked up at local hotels. He’d also given her a bogus name to top it all off. She did, however, retain the make and model of his car: DSARYI Maryland BMW 645 CI. The P.G. County police made a search after his vehicle’s information was given by the women’s health clinic of Landover. Yet still, once the luxury sports vehicle was found, it was currently on the sales lot of the Passport BMW of Marlow Heights, having been recently sold by the owner. Three weeks went by with no trace of the smooth-talking, iced out player who’d swept Kee-Kee off her feet and was responsible for infecting her with this unidentified new strain of HIV, which was rapidly morphing into full blown AIDS within her body.
Bitter and angry over the biological death sentence given to her by a callous and unsympathetic boyfriend, Kee-Kee plotted revenge against every man she’d encounter from now until her condition rendered her too weak to sexually spread the virus or “gift” as she’d grown used to calling the dreadful disease.
For about three months, tens of dozens of area men of various ages and walks of life began testing positive for the deadly strain of HIV. So many Washington-area men became ill with HIV5X that the local Washington, DC media ran full coverage on the growing health scare overshadowing the Beltway region’s black community, calling it a sexually transmitted pandemic.
As months passed, disturbing rumors began circulating around the region that an attractive light brown complexioned dime piece who hung out at local nightclubs picking up guys randomly, sleeping with anyone who bought her a drink or two, was the source of the disease. It was rumored that this HIV-infected hottie would leave a handwritten note either in the pants pocket or car glove compartment of her unfortunate victim explaining in frightening detail the nature of her illness and ending the letter with a chilling “Welcome to the Wonderful World of AIDS” salutation.
On April 12, 1998, Detective Goehring placed several printouts with newspaper clippings on the newly promoted Lieutenant Jeremy Williams’ tidy desk. The young, decorated police officer took the stapled printout sheets and leaned back in his cushy, blue leather recliner reading the paperwork in between long, slow sips of steaming espresso.
“This is the case of the HIV criminal exposure spree going on right now … everyone and their mama have heard about this. It’s all over the news, the T.V., the radio, the paper, you name it …every police department in town is zeroing in on this case, detective. What’s your point?” Jeremy shrugged.
“Yes, you’re absolutely right, Jeremy, every cop out there is well aware that we have a criminal out here purposely exposing others to HIV/AIDS no doubt. Yes, every department from DC to Virginia to here in Maryland is doing everything in their power to find this woman and take her off the streets. But they don’t have a clue who this mystery lady could be. But I do … believe it or not. Jeremy, the broad that’s infecting all these guys…it’s…I believe it’s… Kiara.”
A look of disbelief, shock and outrage clouded the lieutenant’s smooth young features for a split moment or two before he gathered back his composure. How could Detective Goehring be so sure? Kee-Kee was still suffering, as was everyone else, from Yasmin’s untimely passing, not to mention the discovery of her own HIV-positive state. Kee-Kee had moved out of her Kentland townhouse back in the middle of January. She now lived in Greenbelt with her mother. They were both helping each other cope with the pain of the loss of Yasmin.
Among the newspaper article clippings were several color photo prints of Kee-Kee entering and exiting the vehicles of several unknown men, obviously taken secretly outside of area clubs. These prints were dated from January 17, 1998 to April 3, 1998.
“Detective Goehring, these photos are certainly of my son’s mother, but still, we have no evidence that she’s the infected club ho’ going around making all these dudes sick!” Jeremy snapped angrily, slamming the pap
erwork down hard upon the top of his desk.
“Jeremy, I know how difficult it must be to accept this… but if we don’t act quickly to get Kiara off the streets and to a hospital, more people are gonna get sick, and in turn, they’ll infect yet others as well…” Goehring’s words trailed off momentarily. “I’ve never told anyone this but … I too am HIV-positive … I’ve been positive for about eight years now since the summer of 1989. I had open-heart surgery back then in July. My wife, Diane, who is negative by the way, could not donate blood to me because she’s B-positive and my blood type is A-negative. I’m sure that you can understand the rest … I was the recipient of a tainted supply of blood…yessir, now that you know I’ve been doing my homework and I’ll tell you what this type of HIV carried by Kiara is not your ordinary HIV. This particular strain is particularly deadly. It’s also what killed Yasmin.”
Goehring pulled out a folder. “I’ve got her autopsy report from the Coroner’s office at P.G. County Hospital. Diane and several virologists have analyzed and studied the blood sample from Kiara that I had asked you to get for me. The experiments done with lab monkeys had terrifying results. During the NIH study, monkeys that received AIDS (HIV-2), the simian form of the immuno deficiency virus, in group A developed HIV within a period of three months. But in stark contrast, the monkeys in group B that were injected with a vaccine-laced with the cancer-causing monkey virus S.V.-40 and a mixture of Kiara’s HIV-tainted hemoglobin antibodies contracted full blown AIDS within a matter of two weeks, dying from AIDS related complications a few days later. I also have the written proof of those NIH results here with me in the lab. But there’s more … I took upon myself the responsibility of acquiring a court ordered permit to see Kiara’s medical reports and acquired samples of her last few PAP tests from the Landover Hills Gynecological Center.”
Jeremy couldn’t believe what he was hearing as his friend and fellow officer continued.
“Semen samples obviously from her last sexual encounter since seeing her doctor were removed for the purpose of DNA analysis and we came up with a match for this so-called Simon Harker. This scumbag’s real name is Lucien Octavius Valentino, a former naval officer who fought in both the Gulf War as well as in Bosnia. He contracted HIV along with several other U.S. soldiers while on tour in Eastern Europe and as a result was flown back across the Atlantic to Puerto Rico supposedly for HIV treatment. Now I for one know within my heart and soul, that this Valentino guy is somehow connected to our case, trust me on this. I’ve arranged to have a meeting this coming Sunday at my place out in Bowie. Diane’s gonna prepare a wonderful meal for everyone. I’ve invited your good friend Ronald Free and Edward Goddard, the brother of Kiara’s best friend, TaKeisha Goddard, who contacted me several times this past week eagerly requesting a sit down with department officials. Jeremy, we’re on to something really big here. It’ll be at 7:35 p.m. sharp. Be there.”
Without a doubt, Jeremy had every intention on being there…to prove his friend wrong!
Chapter 8
Currently, South Africa has been noted as having the world’s highest number of HIV/AIDS infection cases. HIV and AIDS remain a sticky subject in the country of South Africa, as well as the continent as a whole. Those living with AIDS in South Africa are shunned, have lost friends, employment, have endured beatings and have even been murdered simply for being HIV-positive.
When Sunday rolled around, everyone was assembled at 3011 Old Chapel Road in Bowie, Maryland. Ronald Free, Dr. Edward Goddard, Lt. Jeremy Williams and host Detective Taylor Goehring chatted idly, and sipped on Cabernet Sauvignon as they prepared to hear the information in which Dr. Goddard had to give them during this all important of discussions.
“The virus in which we are now dealing with is called HIV5X,” Edward explained. “A most virulent strain of the common HIV virus that was developed right here in Maryland, in one of our Army labs in Fort Detrick. The genetically engineered bio-weapon was developed by the Army to be used as an instrument of war against foreign enemies. However, it had to be tested for potency before the green light was given from the World Health Organization. What better community to test such a weapon on than the poor, minority areas of the country … the program, ‘Inner City Virus’ was set to be used here in the greater Washington, DC metropolitan area.” Dr. Goddard spoke with a harsh sense of urgency in his voice, which at times seemed to crack with emotion.
“My wife, Diane, eluded to that same fact this past week when we discussed the matter at dinner,” Goehring offered. “Amazing … I find it almost impossible to believe that our government would use its citizens as guinea pigs in order to test such a deadly virus,” Detective Goehring said, raising a glass goblet filled with sparkling red wine to his lips.
“I ain’t surprised at all … I mean look at the Tuskegee experiment back in the forties. If the government could pull some shit off like that back in the day, what makes you think that they won’t do the same type o’ shit to us right now? I don’t trust them muthafuckas as far as I can throw ‘em,” Ronnie Free exclaimed in visible frustration.
“Hey, look y’all, I know how hard this is on all of you, especially since someone we know is not only infected with this disease, but is more than likely spreading it to a whole lot of other people purposely. We gotta act fast and get Kee-Kee off the streets and into a hospital ward somewhere, then maybe we can both cure her as well as hopefully find a way to slow down this deadly virus,” Jeremy interjected.
As the four men continued to jabber endlessly, Detective Goehring’s wife came down the winding stairwell interrupting the ongoing discussion in order to give her husband an important phone call. After taking the phone from his spouse, Goehring jotted down some information briefly upon a well-worn notepad before hanging up the line.
One of his young detectives, whom he’d assigned to stake out Kiara Reeves’ Greenbelt residence, had followed the young lady into the District where she ended up going into the Martini Lounge for a little over an hour. When she emerged from the nightclub at last, a broadly smiling, fresh-faced young man followed eagerly behind her out across the street toward their vehicles waiting in the parking lot. From there, the man drove his red Mazda Miata behind Kee-Kee’s Honda back across the Beltway and on into Prince George’s County where both parties parked their cars in front of a Days Inn in Hyattsville. Goehring informed the rookie detective not to act in any way until he arrived on the scene. Without hesitation, the four men raced from the house to their cars parked in Goehring’s driveway. When they arrived at the hotel along Queen’s Chapel Road, Kee-Kee had just checked out of the hotel room with her latest sex victim in tow.
“Hold it right there, Kiara,” Goehring said calmly. “Please let us help you. This isn’t what you need to be doing, sweetheart … it’s a crime. I can only imagine what you must feel like, and trust me, we’re doing everything we possibly can to bring that scumbag who infected you to justice as well as offering you and your recent partners the best medical treatment that modern medicine can provide. But I cannot allow you to go on purposely spreading this virus…it ends here, Kiara … tonight,” the detective said displaying his PGPD badge before her.
Kee-Kee looked over to Jeremy, who stood behind Goehring. “So I see you g’on try and lock me up, huh, Jeremy? You’d sell me out to the police? Man, fuck all y’all bamma niggas! Y’all can’t feel my pain! I’m gonna fuckin’ die ‘cause some pretty nigga with a bad dick didn’t give a shit about me. So guess what? I don’t give a fuck neither!” Kee-Kee screamed back at the men assembled in front of her.
Kee-Kee’s date, startled by the disturbing revelations spoken by the detective, immediately turned on his one-night stand, angrily demanding an explanation for the words which he was now hearing. During their brief but fierce argument, Kee-Kee was attacked by the now enraged young man before Detective Goehring or Jeremy could act. The sinewy youngster rushed upon Kee-Kee, reaching out with powerful hands for her throat. The two of them fell hard to the pavement with
Kee-Kee screaming out in pain as she caught the brunt of the man’s fist slamming up against the side of her face. Jeremy raced over and attempted to wrestle the angry attacker from further harming Kee-Kee. But just as soon as he was pulled up off of her, she charged her assailant with cat-like reflexes, withdrawing a small switchblade from the pocket of her tight-fitting denims. She quickly stabbed the man repeatedly in his chest and abdomen while he was in Jeremy’s grasp. The young man fell to the pavement, fatally wounded by the gunfire of a pair of P.G. cops who’d just now arrived on the scene and feared for the safety of their Lieutenant.
The small blood stained switchblade fell from Kee-Kee’s limp fingers and onto the concrete below as she lay dying from her wounds. Blood oozed from Kee-Kee’s quivering lips and slid down the right side of her cheek as her head dropped down to the ground beside her now stiff outstretched arm. After a few sputtering coughs, Kee-Kee’s shallow breathing ceased … she now joined Yasmin in the eternal stillness of death. Two P.G. County officers led the still angry, struggling man away in handcuffs towards a nearby squad car as Jeremy raced over to Kee-Kee’s cold form.
Detective Goehring and the others slowly moved back as Jeremy crouched over the body of his son’s mother, sobbing bitterly as he held her head gently in his arms. As the lieutenant grieved over Kee-Kee’s death, the men all vowed to bring the primary suspect to justice by any means necessary.
During the week after Kee-Kee’s funeral, Detective Goehring visited TaKeisha Goddard to interview her about her departed friend’s latest boyfriend.
