Power Struggle

by Carolyn Arnold

  “It’s something most people never will witness, and it would definitely be unsettling.” She’d chosen that last word to intentionally downplay the situation to see what sort of reaction she might get.

  “It was more than unsettling!” Yasmine fired back.

  Madison let silence ride for several seconds after Yasmine’s outburst, hoping to draw her into filling the quiet.

  “I didn’t mean to yell,” she said, sniffling. “It’s just…horrible.”

  Madison had no response to that statement. She just felt empty. Yes, it was horrible that someone had been so violently murdered, but that “someone” had also shot and killed her grandfather.

  Maybe remaining objective would be more difficult than she’d thought.

  Yasmine continued to tremble and began to rub her arms. The fabric of her pants was making noise, too, so she was likely bouncing her legs to self-soothe. The woman was obviously uncomfortable, but Madison couldn’t get a strong enough read on her to decide if it was due to a guilty conscience.

  “When you left him, was he tied to the bed?” Madison asked, to keep the questioning moving forward.

  “No.” Yasmine was quick to answer. “We always used cuffs…” She sniffled again.

  “When you showed up this morning, was the security system armed?” Madison asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “So you have an access code and a key to his house?”

  “That’s right. Probably for at least the last month,” Yasmine said casually.

  Madison plowed forward. “Did he give you a unique code or just let you use his?”

  “Uh, I’m not sure.” Yasmine shrugged. “Does it matter?”

  “It might,” Madison responded coolly. They could confirm with the surveillance company how many passcodes were issued and which user armed and disarmed the system in the last twenty-four hours. That could tell them a lot. “What was the code you used?”

  “Three-four-seven-one.”

  “Did you let yourself in last night, too?”

  Yasmine shook her head. “No, he let me in.”

  “And last night when you left, did you arm the security system and lock up behind you?”

  “Uh-huh. Jimmy was still in bed when I left.”

  Madison nodded. “I see… Do you know of anyone who could have wanted Jimmy dead?”

  Yasmine’s chin began to tremble again, and her eyes went blank.

  “If you have any idea, now’s the time to tell us,” Madison prompted.

  Yasmine blinked and timidly avoided eye contact. “I don’t know.”

  “Anyone at work who may have been upset with him?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.” Yasmine put her palms to her forehead, fingers splayed, as if she was getting a headache.

  “What type of accounts did Jimmy handle?” Terry asked, getting involved in the questioning.

  Yasmine dropped her hands and turned to face Terry. “Corporate.”

  “Did any of his customers have an issue with him?” Madison asked, taking another stab at the potential suspect pool.

  Yasmine straightened her back in her chair. “No one likes paying taxes, and Jimmy does—did—” she touched her left temple “—his best to help people pay as little as possible, but there are always a few clients that still aren’t happy. But if your real question is whether Jimmy had enemies or anyone who would’ve wanted to kill him, I don’t think so.”

  The way Yasmine kept touching her head told Madison she was seeking to comfort herself. Madison also latched on to the I don’t think so. Combine this with other signs of fear and Madison was pretty sure Yasmine knew a lot more than she was sharing. “Besides having a sexual relationship, did you know Jimmy well?”

  “Not really.” A splash of pink touched her cheeks. “He was a secretive man,” she added.

  Given this admission, they couldn’t exactly trust her word that he didn’t have any enemies. The thought crept in that if he was working with the Mafia like his father had, there was a good reason for him being secretive. And building on the hypothetical, was it just Bates or was the entire firm in cahoots with the mob? The idea had entered her mind at the crime scene, but she pushed it away again. Her personal connection was probably marring her judgment. There could be plenty of other explanations for Bates’s secretiveness.

  Madison had additional questions about last night and this morning, but she wanted to know more about the nature of Yasmine’s relationship with Bates. “How long had you and Jimmy worked together?”

  “A year.”

  “And you were his, what? Secretary? Assistant?” Madison asked.

  “I did whatever it was Jimmy needed me to.”

  “So you were more like his right hand? Privy to some confidential business matters?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “I take it Jimmy did pretty well at the firm,” Madison said.

  “He’s on his— I mean, he was on his way to making partner.” Yasmine ran a hand down her throat. “Sorry. It’s so hard to think of him as being gone.”

  Madison refused to get sucked into Yasmine’s emotional vortex. “Had he worked there for a long time?”

  “I guess,” Yasmine said, indifferent. “Don’t know for how long.”

  They’d find out from speaking to the accounting firm, so Madison let it go. “Now, going back to your romantic relationship with Jimmy… How long have you been together?”

  Yasmine bit her bottom lip. “We’ve been sleeping together for a few months. It started up some time in October.”

  That was consistent with what she’d told Tendum. “And why were you at his place this morning?” Madison asked.

  “We often had sex before work.”

  “But you were there last night, too,” Madison said.

  “That’s right.” She crossed her arms. “Until midnight.”

  “Why go home only to come back so early this morning?”

  “You know, that cop asked me a lot of these same questions. I’m not sure why I need to go through them again.” Yasmine narrowed her eyes, clearly irritated, but her gaze weakened quickly. “I’ve been through a lot,” she said, her chin quivering again. “Finding him like that…”

  “Repetitive questioning is common in a murder investigation,” Madison assured her.

  “Because you think you’re going to catch me in a lie,” Yvonne snapped. “But I didn’t kill him. I’d never have hurt him—or anyone else for that matter.”

  “Why did you leave at midnight?” Madison tried again.

  “Because Jimmy likes to sleep alone.” Yasmine’s gaze flashed with agitation. “There was nothing more to it than that.”

  “Fair enough.” Madison paused, riding the power of silence. “Where were you from midnight until seven this morning?”

  “Sleeping.” She pinched her nose, blew out a deep breath, and started rocking back and forth. “You really think that I—”

  “Can anyone verify that?” Madison interrupted.

  “I don’t know,” she cried out, tears running down her cheeks now. “Maybe my landlord. Actually, yes, my landlord. He opened his door to say good night to me.”

  The hairs rose on the back of Madison’s neck. Had the landlord been obsessed with Yasmine and taken the initiative to get Bates out of her life? “Does he usually say good night to you?”

  “Sometimes but not always. It’s just who he is. Doesn’t have much to keep him busy.” Yasmine palmed her cheeks. “It’s not like he’s not a stalker or anything.”

  Madison looked past Yasmine to Terry, who was scribbling in his notebook. The MO indicated someone with a lot of rage, and while Madison’s gut was screaming that the murder was the work of Constantine, she was determined to follow the evidence in earnest. Rage was fueled by passion, and passion could stem from a very common motive
for murder—jealousy.

  “Did he know about you and Jimmy?” Madison asked.

  “I’m not sure how he would,” Yasmine said. “Jimmy never came to my place.”

  They’d definitely need to confirm Yasmine’s alibi. “What’s your landlord’s name?”

  “Oliver Carson.”

  Terry was writing in his book again, presumably jotting down the name.

  “Were you and Jimmy exclusive?” Madison asked Yasmine.

  She shook her head. “Not at all. It was very casual.”

  “And that was your idea or his?”

  “Both, I guess.” Yasmine shrugged, nonchalant.

  Madison leaned forward. “So the idea of him seeing other women never bothered you?”

  “No.” There was a flicker in Yasmine’s eyes that belied her claim, but she was quick to add, “I saw other men.”

  “We’ll need their names and contact information.”

  “Do you think one of them killed Jimmy?” Yasmine asked, scrunched up her brow as if seeming to view the concept as not worth considering.

  “It’s far too early to say, but we need to investigate all angles. The men you’re seeing are part of that.”

  “Well, none of the relationships were anything special. They were just about sex.”

  “Did you ever want the relationship with Jimmy to be more than that?” Madison asked.

  Yasmine slipped her bottom lip through her teeth. “I cared about him, but I didn’t love him. I’m not the settling-down kind of girl.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Madison put the question to Yasmine in as friendly a way as possible—woman to woman. “Most women fantasize about their weddings from the time they’re little girls.”

  “Not me.” Yasmine crossed her arms and took a deep breath. “Like I said, I know that he slept with other people, and it didn’t bother me. I was seeing other men, too.”

  “Why don’t you tell us about them, then?”

  Yasmine’s gaze drifted across the room, and a single tear fell. But Madison didn’t sense sadness coming from her, but rather fear. Her body had sunken farther into the chair, her bottom lip was trembling, and her hands were clenched into fists on the table.

  “Who are you thinking about?” Madison pressed.

  She shook her head rapidly. “It’s…”

  “If you think that one of them could have killed Jimmy, talk to us.” Madison reached across the table and touched one of Yasmine’s fists. She was quick to pull both her hands back and clasp them in her lap.

  Madison gave Yasmine a few seconds, then made her request. “Give us some names.”

  Yasmine remained silent.

  “Do you suspect that maybe one of them got jealous of Jimmy and decided to kill him?” Madison asked, flipping Yasmine’s earlier question and serving it back to her.

  Yasmine jumped to her feet. “No, that can’t be what happened.”

  “The way you’re acting right now tells me that you think it’s possible, Miss Stone,” Madison said.

  Yasmine’s eyes shot to Madison’s. “You’re obviously not reading me very well.”

  Madison pressed her lips together, inclined her head, and said nothing.

  Yasmine paced the interrogation room for a few minutes; Terry and Madison remained silent.

  “I only see two men other than Jimmy regularly,” Yasmine finally said. “There’s also this one guy who I hook up with when he’s in town.”

  “We’ll need their names,” Terry said, heightening the urgency.

  Yasmine rubbed her arms quickly. “Lyle Berger was one I—” She stopped talking.

  “One you…what?” Madison prompted. Yasmine dismissed her with a wave, and Madison let it go. For now. “Lyle Berger is a managing partner at the firm?” She assumed so based on the company’s name.

  “Yes. The firm is run by Sylvester Stein and Lyle Berger.”

  Lyle would have had a front-row seat to Jimmy and Yasmine’s trysts, and maybe it had become too much for him to overlook an employee sleeping with the same woman he was sleeping with. “Did Lyle ever seem jealous that you were sleeping with Jimmy?” Madison asked.

  “I don’t…think so.” Her body stiffened, contradicting her words.

  “I’m sensing a but,” Madison said.

  “But he would play out like he was. It was just something he did sometimes.” Yasmine dropped back into her chair. “One day Jimmy and I had sex in the managers’ restroom, and word got out. I don’t know how, but Lyle called me into his office not long after. Say, a few hours.” Her eyes darkened. “He said he needed to talk to me about some report.”

  Madison had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, a foreboding of what Yasmine was going to tell them.

  Yasmine swallowed roughly. “He didn’t want to talk to me about a report…”

  “Did he rape you, Miss Stone?” Memories of her own near-rape by Constantine struck Madison hard. Her stomach churned, and bile soured her throat.

  Yasmine nodded and then shook her head. “No, I wanted it.”

  “Is that what he told you?” Madison asked delicately. “It sounds to me like he raped you…”

  Yasmine was rubbing her arms furiously again. “He didn’t, all right? I wanted it.” She locked eyes with Madison, and Madison dipped her head. Far too often the victim was made to feel like they’d asked for sex and wanted it. It was disgusting and beyond nauseating. Madison couldn’t wait to face the bastard.

  “When was this?” Terry asked.

  Yasmine looked down at her hands. “A month ago… Or something like that.”

  That was well within the statute of limitations to press charges if Yasmine admitted to being raped. “You had made it sound like you were seeing Lyle.” Madison monitored her inflection so as not to convey any menace. “Did you have sex with him more than that one time?”

  Yasmine nodded.

  Madison sat back. “How long had you been getting together?”

  “A few times since…” Yasmine rolled her hand. “Since we did it in his office.”

  There was nothing consensual about what had happened—at least originally. It was written all over this poor woman’s expression. But had the creep, Lyle, escalated from rapist to murderer?

  “So Lyle was one of the two men besides Jimmy who you saw regularly?” Madison confirmed.

  “Yeah.”

  “Who were the other men you were seeing? The second regular one and the one you’d hook up with when he was in town?” Madison asked.

  Yasmine sank back into her chair. “The other regular guy is married, and I’m not going to risk our affair getting out and ruining his marriage.”

  Too late for that…

  “Then you’re interfering with an active investigation, and that’s a crime,” Madison stated bitterly.

  “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to arrest me to get his name.” Yasmine met Madison’s gaze defiantly now.

  Although her offer was tempting, there wasn’t enough to warrant holding her. “What about the guy from out of town?” Madison diverted.

  “His name’s Kevin,” Yasmine said weakly.

  “His last name?” Madison asked. It felt like she was pulling every syllable out of Yasmine.

  Yasmine turned away, her gaze flitting about the room. “Jones.”

  “Do you have a way of reaching Mr. Jones?”

  She nodded, still not looking at Madison. “I have his number.”

  “We’ll need that.”

  “It’s on my phone.” Yasmine riffled through her purse.

  “How long had you been seeing him?” Madison asked.

  Yasmine dug for a few more seconds and then pulled out her phone. Her fingers moved quickly over the screen. “For years. Just whenever he was in town. He travels a lot for business.”

>   Terry stepped forward, coming up next to her. “What does he do?”

  She stopped working on her phone and ran a hand through her hair. “We never really talked about it.”

  “Something tells me you know more than you’re letting on,” Madison said. “Are you covering for him?”

  Yasmine’s mouth opened, snapped shut, and then she started chewing on a fingernail.

  “Are you afraid of this person?” Leading question or not, she had to gauge Yasmine’s reaction.

  Yasmine dropped her hand and regarded Madison with a straight face. “He’s not even in town. He couldn’t have killed Jimmy.”

  “That you know of, anyway,” Madison fired back, intrigued by Yasmine’s quick defense of the man and her obvious anxiety at having this conversation.

  “Well, why would he kill Jimmy? Because he was jealous?”

  “You said it,” Madison responded.

  “That’s ridiculous. As I said, Kevin and I have been seeing each other for years. He knows I sleep with other men. Here you go.” Yasmine handed her phone to Madison with a shaky hand. “But I can’t be certain he’s still using that number.”

  “He changes it a lot?” Madison asked.

  “He’s horrible about losing them,” Yasmine explained.

  “His phones?”

  Yasmine nodded.

  “Okay, but if he loses phones, that doesn’t explain why his number changes. Unless… Does he use burner phones?”

  Yasmine met Madison’s gaze and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Madison scanned Yasmine’s eyes, but they gave away nothing. That only made Madison more suspicious of Kevin Jones. She started writing down his number when notice of a voice mail came up on the screen.

  The caller ID showed S Stein.

  “Looks like Mr. Stein called.” Madison raised an eyebrow at Yasmine.

  “Oh no. Sylvester’s going to be pissed.”

  Madison guessed that was a yes… “Why?” she asked.

  “Jimmy had a meeting this morning and— Oh god. What time is it?”

  “Just after ten,” Madison said, hardly believing how fast the time was going. It had already been three hours since Bates was found.