Crime of Passion

by Roy Glenn

  “I believe that falls under the heading of my business. You gave up your rights to caring how much I’m getting a long time ago.”

  “Well, I'm not seeing anybody regular either. I tried to date for a while, but I realized that it wasn't what I really wanted. What I want is my husband back.”

  “Well Randa, you're old enough for your wants to hurt you.”

  “And it does hurt me, Marcus. Every morning I wake up and you're not beside me, it hurts. Every morning I wake up and I can't make love to you, it hurts me. And I know that I have nobody to blame but myself.”

  “That's the first bit of truth I've heard from you tonight.”

  “No it's not. I was telling the truth when I said I love you.”

  Marcus returned her comment with silence.

  “Marcus I love you and you love me. That's some place for us to start. And maybe with time we can put this behind us. Go back to being happy. Get back to the way things used to be. Do you remember how good it was between us?”

  “Yes,” Marcus replied, remembering how good Randa made him feel sexually.

  “How we use to make love every morning?” Randa said tempting Marcus. “And twice before bedtime?”

  “I remember, Randa. Which reminds me, how could you fuck another man in the same bed we just made love in? Did you at least have the decency to change the sheets?”

  This time it was Randa who answered with silence.

  “You see Randa, everything you say and everything I feel, always leads me back to the same point. And I just can't seem to get past that. And I don't think I ever will.”

  “In time Marcus, I hope you open up your heart and forgive me.”

  “In time, maybe.”

  “What about now?”

  “Excuse me.”

  “What about right now?”

  “Have you lost your mind?”

  “No. I haven't lost my mind. I want you Marcus. I want to see you. I want to make love to you.”

  “Like I said, you're old enough for your wants to hurt you.”

  “But you can ease my pain, Marcus. Only you can ease my pain. Can I see you?”

  “When?”

  “Now.”

  “No.”

  “I know you still love me. You said so yourself. You know you still want me. I can hear it in your voice.”

  “No you don't.”

  “Come on now, Marcus, I didn't just meet you. I could hear you longing to be inside me.”

  “You're wrong.”

  “Tell that to somebody who doesn't know you. Can I come by and make love to you, Marcus? I promise that I won't say a word. I'll just take off my clothes and make love to you.”

  “No.”

  “Please Marcus, just talking to you, hearing your voice has made my body ache for you.”

  “No, Randa.”

  “No strings attached. Just straight up sex.”

  “No Randa, this is not going to happen.”

  “I'm on my way.”

  “I won't be here,” Marcus said as he hung up the phone.

  The question now was, was she really on her way? He knew Randa to be a woman who went after want she wanted. She was on her way, no doubt. Randa was on her way to use her formidable sexuality to make her point. They belonged together. They were two halves of the same whole. But those days were long gone. Marcus finished his drink and when went in the bedroom. Lay across his bed. Now he had a question for himself. Was he going to allow her to do it? If he chose to be honest with himself, he'd have to admit that he wanted her. That Randa was right when she said that every now and then shit wasn't cutting it. It was great for not allowing anybody to get close to him, but it did nothing to satisfy his formidable sexual appetite.

  For him the decision was easy. Randa betrayed everything they were. She took everything from him that day. And a good fuck wouldn't change that. He got up from the bed before thoughts of seeing Randa come through that door naked changed his mind. He quickly went into the closet and pulled out a suitcase. He threw a few things in the bag, then carried it unzipped to the bar and threw in a bottle of Hennessy. Marcus zipped up his bag and was on his way out the door when he remember that he told Carmen to call him at home if he had any questions. He put his bag down and went to the phone. He dialed 411.

  “Directory assistance. What city?”

  “Atlanta.”

  “What number?”

  “Airport Marriott.”

  “Hold for the number. 404 766- 7900. I'll connect you at no charge.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Airport Marriott, how may I direct your call?”

  “Carmen Taylor, I don't know what room she's in.”

  “Hold please.”

  Marcus looked at his watch. He didn't know where Randa lived or how long it would take her to get there. But he knew this was taking to long. He asked himself why he didn't just leave and call from his cell phone, especially since that was the number he was about to give her.

  “Hello,” Carmen finally answered.

  “Good evening Ms. Taylor. This is Marcus Douglas; I hope I'm not disturbing you?”

  “No Mr. Douglas you're not disturbing me.”

  “I'm calling to give you my cell phone number. I'm not going to be home for a couple of days.”

  “Are you going out of town?” Carmen asked, sounding a little disappointed.

  “No, Ms. Taylor. I'm just going to a hotel for a couple of days.”

  “Get away from annoying reporters, huh?” Carmen said; feeling relieved.

  “Annoying, yeah something like that.” Marcus looked at his watch again, walked toward to window and looked out. “Ready for the number?”

  “Ready.”

  “770 555-5359.”

  “Okay, that's good to know, especially since I was just about to call you.”

  “Did you have a question?”

  “Yes. I went over the list of people the police questions and read their statements and I was wondering, why the police never talked to Suzanne Collins?”

  “Who is Suzanne Collins?”

  “Suzanne was Desireé's best friend. I think it’s a little odd that the police could investigate her murder and not talk to her best friend. I take it you didn't either?”

  “No Ms. Taylor, this is the first time I've heard her name. Ferguson didn't mention her and she never came forward on her own.”

  “Well she doesn't live far from here and I was thinking about going by there and talking to her.”

  “That sounds like a good idea, Ms. Taylor. You're serious about this aren't you?”

  “Very serious, Mr. Douglas. I have to know what happen to my sister.”

  Marcus looked out the window again. “Need some company?”

  “You took the words right out of my mouth. I thought that you might do a little better asking questions then I would. You know, being a lawyer and all,” Carmen said, allowing her voice to drop.

  Marcus picked up on her tone, but was unsure what to read into it. So he filed it away in the back of his mind. “Well I'll pick you up in about forty minutes, Ms. Taylor.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Marcus hung up the phone quickly and headed out the door. He got in his car and drove out the driveway. He had just reached the corner and was about to turn, when he saw Randa's Benz barreling down the street.

  SHARE YOUR PAIN

  After receiving the folder from Janise, Carmen immediately returned to her hotel room and started reading. As she read, Carmen tried not to think about the description of the crime scene, but her mind painted vivid images.

  “Who could have done this to her?”

  She had accepted the fact that Roland had killed her sister and would be punished for the crime. But all that's changed. Carmen read every piece of paper in the folder and made notes of her questions. There weren't many. Overall she thought the investigation was pretty thorough, as far as Roland was concerned. But there didn't seem to be much investigation of Desireé.
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br />   Carmen had been reading for hours before she remembered that she had promised her parents that she would come by. And as much as she knew that they needed to talk.

  “Not now,” Carmen said out loud.

  Revisiting all those old emotions would only distract her from what she was trying to accomplish. When Carmen finished reading Detective Benjamin's statement she closed the folder. She looked over at the clock on the nightstand. Carmen laid across the bed and began to think about her sister. Then it hit her, “Marcus!” she said jumping up from the bed. He would be there to pick her up in twenty minutes and she was nowhere near ready to go. Dressed in her old comfortable robe and slippers, she definitely didn't want Marcus to catch her like this. She grabbed some clothes out of her bag and headed for the shower. After a quick shower, she began to get dressed. When the phone rang, Carmen answered.

  “Ms. Taylor, there’s a Marcus Douglas in the lobby to see you. Shall I send him up?”

  “No. Please tell Mr. Douglas I'll be down shortly,” Carmen replied, zipping up her jeans and stepping into her heels. She put on a dab of Escape and checked her hair in the mirror on her way out the door.

  When she reached the lobby, Carmen looked around until she saw Marcus and started for him. When Marcus saw her coming he rose to his feet to greet her. He couldn't help but be taken as Carmen walked toward him.

  “Steady boy, she's way out of your league,” Marcus said as he watched Carmen make her way, turning men's heads as she passed.

  “Hello, Mr. Douglas, I'm sorry I kept you waiting,” Carmen said, extending her hand to Marcus.

  Marcus accepted her hand thinking, Seeing you was worth the wait, but he said, “Don't worry about it, Ms. Taylor. It wasn't that long. So where are we going?”

  “Suzanne lives in Hampton,” Carmen said as they left the hotel. “You know the way or do you want me to drive?”

  “I don't mind driving, Ms. Taylor. My car is right over there.” He unlocked the passenger door and held it open for Carmen. “Thank you, Mr. Douglas.” Once they were in the car and away, Marcus said, “Did you read anything else that you had questions about, Ms. Taylor?”

  “Yes I did. But would you mind calling me Carmen.”

  “If you call me Marcus, I'll call you Carmen.”

  “Deal, Marcus it is. When you say Ms. Taylor it sounds too much like my old economics professor, Mr. Weuhausen. Ms. Taylor, can you summarize Paul Samuelson's theory of equilibrium,” Carmen laughed as she imitated her old professor.

  “Well since you put it that way,” Marcus said laughing at her impersonation. “I wouldn't wanna do that. Carmen it is. By the way, what is Paul Samuelson's theory of equilibrium?”

  “It a situation in which the forces that determine the behavior of some variable are in balance and thus exert no pressure on that variable to change. It is a situation in which the actions of all economic agents are mutually consistent. It is a concept meaningfully applied to any variable whose level is determined by the outcome of the operation of at least one mechanism or process acting on countervailing forces. For example, equilibrium price is affected by a process which drives suppliers to increase prices when demand is in excess and to undercut each other when supply is in excess. The mechanism thus regulates the forces of supply and demand.”

  “Oh.”

  “I'm glad that's settled,” Carmen said with a smile. “And to answer your first question, yes. But it's more a comment then a question.”

  “What's that's, Carmen?” Marcus asked, now he felt funny saying it.

  “That the investigation seemed more about proving Roland did it then it was about who killed Dez.”

  “That was a major point in my defense of Ferguson. That and the time line, of course. But their investigation focused squarely on him from day one,” Marcus said and glanced at Carmen. She was looking at him, so he looked away quickly. “How often did you and your sister talk?”

  “We talked every day.”

  “Did she tell you about her and Rasheed?”

  “She did. Her new play toy,” Carmen giggled.

  “Did you talk to her the day of the—”

  “Murder. The day of the murder. You can say it, Marcus. I'm not gonna fall apart. I did my crying a year ago, and again last night. I can deal with this.”

  “No matter where it leads?”

  “I said I could.”

  “Okay, Carmen, did you talk to your sister the day she was murdered?”

  “Yes, but just for a minute. Dez was on her way out when I called.”

  “And nothing was wrong; she didn't say anything?”

  “No. Just that she would call me tomorrow.”

  “Did Roland know about her and Rasheed?”

  “She said that he knew about all her toys.”

  “Toys? She'd had more than one?”

  “Yes,” Carmen said reluctantly. “Dez has always had somebody. But Roland loved her and that was something he accepted about her. Dez was much younger then Roland when they got married. She married him for money and position. And don't look so surprised. If you didn't already know it, I know you at least thought about it.”

  “The thought had occurred to me. So tell me about Desireé. Tell me what you know about their relationship. How'd they meet?”

  “Dez met Roland at a fund raiser for some candidate for Congress. I don't remember his name, probably because he lost. They were married six months later.”

  “Fund raiser? I figure Ferguson for a contributor. But what was your sister doing there? Was she a campaign worker or was she a contributor, too.”

  “No, Marcus, Dez was never interested in politics. Dez was there looking for a man. Her and Porsche Temple used to get themselves invited to those type of things all the time.”

  “Who's that? Another girl friend?”

  “Yes, and the police didn't talk to her either. And before you ask, I don't have any idea where to find her. Anyway, she'd seen Roland at a few of these affairs and noticed that he always came with a different woman. Dez figured that they were escorts.”

  “Was she right?”

  “She never said if they were or not, and to be honest, at the time I didn't care.”

  “I take it that you didn't approve of her lifestyle?”

  “I just always thought she could do better. Dez was always smart. She graduated from Spellman. She could have done anything she wanted to. But she decided it was easier to live off her looks and her body.” Carmen let out a little laugh. “She was so pretty.”

  “Not as pretty as you,” Marcus said quickly, smiling at Carmen as he drove.

  “I'll take that as a compliment,” Carmen smiled back.

  “It was meant to be one.”

  “Well thank you for the compliment, Marcus. But I always thought she was the beautiful one in the family. Not just physical beauty. Dez was a beautiful person. She was the type of person that everybody loved. She had that kind of personality. She made you love her. I'm not saying that my sister was perfect. She had her faults, but we all do. And she had her share of hang ups.” Carmen glanced over at Marcus, deciding if she was going to continue her thought out loud. “I'm at the center of one of her old hang-ups. Me and Dez were always very competitive growing up. Rivals almost.”

  “The older, prettier sister,” Marcus said.

  “The one who everything always came easy to.”

  “It got better when I left Spellman and went to New York. After that she didn't feel the need to always compete with me. It made it easier on both of us.”

  “So Roland was her easy way. How'd he feel about her?”

  “He loved her. Dez was twenty-two, fresh out of college; he was in his late forties, recently divorced. When I met him he said that Dez had made him feel reborn. And he went on about how beautiful and full of life she was.”

  “How old was Ferguson when they married?”

  “I think she said he was forty-nine. Maybe that's why he didn't mind her having toys?”

  “
Maybe, but if it was me, even if I knew and accepted it, inside it would always bother me. The woman you love, with another man. That would give him the motive to commit murder,” Marcus said, sounding cold and distant. Carmen looked curiously at him.

  Marcus thought about Randa. What if he found out that Randa had always had somebody, a toy? The neighbor woman sure hinted at the possibility. If things had happened differently that day, could he have killed both of them in a violent rage? He thought back to when Roland Ferguson first approached him about taking the case. Marcus was still numb. It had only been two months since he returned from his quest for answers about Yvonne's death. He and Randa were in the heat of battle via their lawyers. He was intrigued by Roland's case. Marcus felt sort of a kinship with him. He remembered imagining what it must have felt like to kill your wife.

  “A pretty compelling motive for murder. But that's probably what the police thought. No need to look any further. Izella probably thought this was a slam-dunk. But there's got to be more and we're gonna find it.”

  “Let's hope its right around the corner. This is your exit.”

  They turned on to Rocky Creek road and pulled into the drive way. Marcus and Carmen got out and rang the doorbell. Not too much time had passed before a woman answered the door.

  “Yes?”

  “I'm sorry to bother you. My name is Carmen Taylor. Desireé Ferguson was my sister —”

  Before Carmen could finish, the woman reached out and hugged her.

  “Carmen, please come in.”

  And practically pulled Carmen inside. Marcus followed behind them.

  “I'm Helen Watts, Suzanne's sister-in-law. Your sister used to talk about you all the time. She was so proud of you.”

  The woman led them into the living room and offered them a seat. Helen sat down on the couch next to Carmen.

  “I want to tell you how sorry I am about your sister.”

  “Thank you,” Carmen said. “This is Marcus Douglas.”

  Helen looked closely at Marcus. “I thought I recognized you. You're the one who let that bastard get away with it.” Marcus started to say something. “And don't go telling me about no damn time line, because I don't wanna hear it.”

  “So you think he did it?” Carmen asked.