Betrayal in Black

by Mark M Bello

  “Not at these numbers. We cannot say that.”

  “Should we take their offer?”

  “The case is worth more, and I know they’re willing to pay more. I have an ethical responsibility to do what is fair.”

  “How much will you recommend?”

  Blake whispers the number to Sarah.

  “Seriously?” She gasps.

  “Seriously, Sarah. Don’t forget this case will be settled with a structured settlement annuity. You and the girls will be paid over many years, not all at once, so the actual number is much smaller than it appears. The present value of the total structure is way smaller than the total amount you will receive over the next twenty-five to thirty years.”

  “That’s a long time, Zack.”

  “I know, Sarah, but it’s a sensible approach. It gets you to important milestones in your lives. We’re talking about college for the kids, emergencies, weddings, and even retirement. There will also be a medical trust to assure your family’s medical needs are secure. It provides funding for life’s important life events. And, I have a surprise for you.”

  “What’s that, Zack?”

  Sarah’s tired and perplexed.

  Blake pulls out an architectural drawing.

  “I’m donating a part of my fee and demanding additional settlement proceeds to build this,” Blake announces. He hands her the drawing. It’s an architectural drawing of the Marcus Hayes Center for Police Officer Training in the Appropriate Use of Deadly Force. “So, Sarah, please tell me. Where would you like to locate this beautiful building?”

  “Oh, my dear God, Zack. Are you serious?” Sarah cries. “This is absolutely amazing! I am completely overwhelmed. But I can’t accept such a gift. You’ve earned your fee.”

  “Sarah, perhaps you didn’t hear me. The defendants will pay for most of the land purchase and construction. Besides, thank you very much, but you can’t tell me what I can or cannot do with my own money. I will be well paid. I’ve done quite well as a trial lawyer. I’m very successful, don’t you know? These kinds of gestures are important to me. They’re my way of paying things forward. This isn’t my first rodeo. I am grateful to be in this position.

  “This is not a gift. You have paid for it in blood and tears. How proud will Aisha and Tasia be as they grow up and see their father’s name on this beautiful and important structure of teaching and learning?”

  “When you put it that way . . .” She nods and wipes tears from both eyes.

  “It’s settled then,” he interrupts her. “All I need to do now is crunch some numbers and come up with a fair resolution.”

  “I will leave you to it, then, Zack. From the bottom of my heart and on behalf of my kids and my late husband, thank you for all that you have done for us.” Sarah leans over and gives him a peck on the cheek. She’s beyond touched by his generosity and courage.

  “You’re welcome, Sarah,” Zack blushes. “It has been my absolute honor to represent you and your beautiful children. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Zack Blake. Man, this is something.”

  “Stop it, Sarah. You’ll inflate my ego.”

  “Is that possible?”

  They both laugh and begin to walk separate ways. Sarah turns back to him. “Bye, Zack. Thanks again.”

  “You’re welcome, Sarah. Now go home, kiss those precious babies, and get some sleep.”

  Chapter Forty

  While the litigants inch closer to a resolution in the civil case, Detective Billy Ellington combs through photographs of Cedar Ridge police officers. Chief Warren Brooks has turned the photos over to the Detroit Police Department “in the spirit of cooperation between brothers in blue.” Brooks is dubious, but Ellington firmly believes a Cedar Ridge cop is Aisha’s abductor.

  For Ellington, the idea that the perpetrator is a cop impersonator doesn’t ring true. He’s convinced the motive behind the abduction is to pressure Sarah into dropping the lawsuit. While any Cedar Ridge official may have had a motive, only cops wear the blue suits Aisha described.

  One by one, Ellington selects a photo and compares it to a copy of Aisha’s composite drawing. Halfway through the array, he stops and stares at a face uniquely similar to Aisha’s composite. He dials Sarah Hayes.

  “Hello?”

  “Sarah?”

  “Speaking.”

  “Billy Ellington here.”

  “Hi, Billy. What’s up?”

  “Sarah, is Aisha awake?”

  “No. She’s sleeping. Why?” Sarah’s curious.

  “I may have found a match to Aisha’s drawing. When can I swing by?”

  So much good news in one day, things are finally going our way. “That’s wonderful, Billy. I don’t like living with all of this protection. I won’t get a good night’s sleep until this guy is caught. I don’t want to wake her, though. She’s had a rough go. Can we do this first thing in the morning? I have to be downtown to finish our mediation. We can do it before or after.”

  “What time is mediation?”

  “Around ten.”

  “How’s it going?”

  “Zack thinks we might settle the case as early as tomorrow.”

  “That’s wonderful, Sarah! I’m so happy for you!”

  “Thanks, Billy. I appreciate it.”

  “How about I swing by around 8:30?”

  “It’s a date.”

  “When this is over, I’d like to talk to you about that.”

  “About what?”

  “Perhaps the two of us getting a cup of coffee? Getting to know one another better? You and me, a date, maybe?”

  Sarah hesitates. “I don’t know, Billy. I’m not sure I’m ready for anything like that.”

  “Anything like what; a cup of coffee with a friend? We already had a date, anyway. This would be our second.”

  “Huh?”

  “We had dinner. Remember Nana’s?”

  “It was a great date, actually,” she recalls. “And Aisha does like ‘Mr. Billy.’ She told me so.” She smiles at the memory.

  “Mr. Billy likes her too. See—it’s meant to be. You wouldn’t argue with Aisha, now, would you?”

  “Well, when you put it like that . . .”

  “Look, Sarah. I think you’re a nice person. When this is over, I’d like to get to know you and your children. What’s wrong with that? Besides, I’m just asking for lunch or coffee. But, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s get the case wrapped first. Tomorrow at 8:30? Should I bring coffee?”

  “Coffee would be great, Billy, cream and sugar, please. And, Billy?”

  “Yes, Sarah?”

  “Thank you. See you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow. Bye, Sarah.”

  “Bye, Billy.”

  ***

  At 8:30 a.m. sharp, Sarah Hayes opens her front door to greet Detective Billy Ellington. Ellington comes bearing gifts from the local Tim Horton’s, an extra-large coffee with cream and sugar for Sarah and a box of Timbits for Aisha and Tasia.

  “Say hello and thank you to Detective Ellington, girls.”

  Tasia and Aisha squeal with delight as they rip open the cardboard fastener at the top, revealing an assortment of glazed, chocolate, and powdered donut holes. They pop donut holes in their mouths as they say thank you to Mr. Billy. ‘Thank you” comes out “fufu,” and Ellington laughs at the sight and sound. Sarah waits for the kids to swallow the tasty treats. The girls pout when she takes the box away.

  “Mr. Billy couldn’t hear you. You were talking with your mouths full.”

  “Thank you . . .” Aisha and Tasia begin.

  “Detective Ellington,” Sarah interrupts.

  “Mr. Billy,” Ellington corrects and winks at Aisha.

  “Thank you, Mr. Billy,” both girls reply.

  “Off you go,” Sarah commands, smiling. “I need to talk to Mr. Billy.”

  “Can we take the donut holes?” Aisha pleads.

  “I don’t know, can you?” Sarah prompts.

  “May we?” Aisha c
orrects herself. “Can we-may we” is a regular exercise in the Hayes home.

  “No, but you may each take two more. Understood?”

  “Yes, Mama.” The girls sift through the box, grab donuts, and run to the playroom.

  “They are something, Sarah,” Ellington praises.

  “Thanks, Billy. They are a handful,” Sarah sighs. She takes a swig of her coffee. “This is good. Thanks for stopping by. Do you have the drawing?”

  “I’ve got it right here, Sarah.”

  Ellington is holding a manila folder. He opens it and removes a photograph along with Aisha’s composite drawing. He hands both to Sarah.

  “They sure do look alike,” Sarah agrees, studying the two images. “What do you think, Billy?”

  “I think we have our suspect, but there’s only one way to find out.”

  “Aisha’s been through so much. I don’t want to traumatize her any further.”

  “We can wait, Sarah. But, the longer we wait, the more distant the events and Aisha’s memory will become.”

  “Who is this guy?”

  “A Cedar Ridge cop named Gil Dunham. He was Randy Jones’s mentor and training officer.”

  “The cops are the criminals; the criminals are the cops. What is this world coming to?”

  “It isn’t fair to paint all cops with the same broad brush, Sarah.”

  “I know, Billy. But it’s difficult. You’re an exception.” Sarah brightened.

  “You make things much easier for the girls and me. The kids really like you.”

  “Thanks. So, what do you want to do? If you want my opinion, I think Aisha should get this over with, ID the guy, and begin the healing process.”

  “We’ll let her decide.”

  “Okay by me.”

  “Aisha! May I see you a minute, baby?” She called, loud enough for Aisha to hear her from the playroom. She and her sister come running. They have powdered sugar all over their faces.

  “Yes, Mama?”

  “Aisha, do you remember when you sat down with the artist who drew a picture of the bad man who took you from KidCare?”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  “This picture, Aisha.” Ellington hands Aisha the picture.

  “I remember, Mr. Billy,” Aisha whispers.

  “Would you mind looking at some other pictures and telling me whether you see the man who took you from KidCare?” Billy cajoles.

  “Do I have to, Mama?” Aisha folds her hands together and stares at the ground.

  “No, sweetheart, you don’t have to,” Sarah soothes. “But it will help Mr. Billy catch the bad man so he won’t be able to do this to anyone else’s child.”

  Aisha looks into her mother’s eyes. “I don’t want him to take anyone else’s child, Mama. But he’s a mean man. Will he be mad at me?”

  “He’ll never know you looked at the pictures, Aisha,” Ellington promises.

  Aisha grimaces. “Okay, I’ll look at the pictures, Mr. Billy.”

  She hesitates and looks away as if she would rather be anywhere else doing anything else at that moment.

  Ellington pulls three pictures from the manila folder. “Ready?” He coos.

  “Ready,” she mutters.

  Billy hands her the photographs. Aisha gasps in anguish. She views the three pictures and immediately points to one.

  “This one,” she cries, staring at the chosen photo. “This is the mean man who took me.”

  She picks up the photo, turns to Sarah, and hands it to her.

  “See him, Mama? This is the bad man who took me from KidCare. He’s not nice. He’s mean!”

  “And we are going to make sure he is punished, sweetheart. Aren’t we Mr. Billy?” Sarah assures. She glances hopefully at Billy.

  “Yes, we are. And we’re also going to make sure he never does anything like this to anyone else, ever again,” Ellington promises.

  “Good. Can I have another donut?”

  “May I?”

  “May I?”

  “Yes, honey. Take one for your sister, too.”

  Aisha grabs the donuts and runs off to the playroom.

  It is amazing how resilient kids are! Sarah turns to Billy. “What now?”

  “Now, we bring this bastard in for questioning,”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Gil Dunham knows it’s only a matter of time. The composite drawing has been on the news. The Detroit Police have photos of the entire Cedar Ridge police force.

  I’m surprised it’s taken this long or that no one ratted me out. I wouldn’t hurt a kid. I just wanted to scare her mother into dropping the case. Randy Jones was a good man. He deserves to rest in peace without having his name dragged through the mud all over TV and the internet. Still, the abduction idea was dumb. My failure to lock the door on little Aisha was even dumber. Dumb and dumber, that’s me.

  Gil thinks of the movie and wonders which of those two idiots would have made the decisions he made. Probably both.

  On the other hand, who could have predicted that a six-year-old little girl would have the temerity to try the door, walk out and proceed down a long hallway and out of the building?

  I’m in deep shit. I’ve got to get the hell out of here. Canada is best for now. Quick and easy border crossing before I’m a person of interest. Lay low in Windsor or Sarnia until things blow over. Need to plan my next move . . .

  Gil packs a large duffle bag, checks and packs his gun and holster, and heads toward the front door. A knock on the front door startles him. Too fucking late!

  Gil ducks down and belly crawls to a window at the side of the door. An unmarked police car sits in the driveway, and a Cedar Ridge squad car is parked out front.

  Officer Alex Mickler and a man Gil recognizes from the news as a Detroit police detective are perched on his front porch.

  Gil belly crawls back to the duffle bag and pulls out his standard-issue Sig Sauer. He lies on the floor, caressing the fully loaded weapon. Come and get me, coppers! Gil recalls James Cagney in those old gangster movies. Top o’ the world, Mom!

  The two cops are banging on the door. This time the black cop yells through the mail slot. “Gil Dunham, if you’re in there, we don’t want any trouble. We just want to talk to you. Open the door.”

  “Come on, Gil. No one has to get hurt. Open the door, please,” cries Alex Mickler.

  Sure, Alex, no one has to get hurt. But two people are dead, including my friend Randy, a good kid and a good cop. Gil stays on the floor, hidden from sight behind the living room sofa. He hears a scuffle and some conversation but can’t make out the voices or exchange of words. He peers over the sofa and out the side window. Mickler and the black guy are about to look into the window. He ducks behind the couch again and hears a slight bang on his garage door.

  Checking to see if the car is there. Suddenly, there’s a loud bang on the front door, harder and louder than the first go around.

  “Dunham. Your car’s in the garage,” the black cop yells. “We know you’re in there. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. It’s up to you. Open the damn door. You’re a police officer. How about you start acting like one?”

  Gil stays put.

  “Come on, Gil. Please. We just want to talk,” Mickler urges.

  “Have it your way, Dunham,” the black cop yells. “We’ll be back with an arrest warrant. Cops will be posted here until we come back.”

  Gil hears Mickler radio headquarters. Mickler requests a couple of cars to stand guard at the home. A short time later, Gil glances over the couch to see two squad cars arrive and park in front. Two cops get out and begin to talk to Mickler and the black dude.

  I guess these guys don’t like their assignments. Good for you guys. Give’em hell! Gil’s cell phone rings and vibrates, scaring the shit out of him. Recognizing the number, he lets the call go to voicemail. The phone chimes and Gil listens to the message.

  “Gil? Chief Brooks. Look, man, I know you’re upset about Jones. I get it. I really do. But you’re a cop—
you abducted a child. You have to answer for your actions. The lawsuit’s over, settled. No public trial. Randy may rest in peace. You hear me, Gil? Randy may now rest in peace!

  “The child’s fine. No one’s been hurt. Please think about your next move. Turn yourself in. Don’t make the situation worse by resisting the inevitable. You’re an experienced cop. You know there are only a few ways this plays out. Most of them aren’t pretty. Call me back. We’ll arrange a peaceful and private surrender. Please, Gil. Do the right thing.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  “Sarah, the offer is in the form of a structured settlement. It has a present value well into the eight-figure range. The rules require that present value not be disclosed, but there are companies out there that can calculate the value of a structure almost to the penny.”

  Barry Frazier is explaining the latest offer from the city of Cedar Ridge to Sarah Hayes.

  “I have a company that evaluates these structures for me, Sarah. Do you want to know the exact figure?” Blake asks. “As far as I am concerned, the more important issue is that you and your children will be taken care of, financially, for a long time. My goal in these negotiations has been lifetime security for you and your children. This offer realizes that goal.”

  “I’ll do whatever you say, Zack. You’ve never steered me wrong.”

  “You have the relationship backward, Sarah. You’re the boss—I’m the employee. My job is to give you professional advice. Your job is to make the ultimate decision. I do whatever you say.”

  “What happens if I don’t take this offer?”

  “Well, Barry assures me we’ve reached the outer limits of what Cedar Ridge will do. In fact, Barry is shocked at these numbers. He never expected the defense to go this high, right Barry? I don’t want to speak for you.”

  “Absolutely true, Zack. Keep going. You’re doing fine,” Frazier urges, with a smile.

  “So Sarah, this comes down to a game of chicken. We can turn this down and proceed to trial. Cedar Ridge has shown no interest in trying this case, and City officials are very fearful of the potential media coverage. Perhaps we can leverage their fear into increased offers later in the game. We can also refuse any offers and go to trial, where we can do much better or much worse than what’s being offered here today.”