by M. Z. Kelly
“Drunk and violent is more like it.”
Warner’s knees buckled and she went down. At the same time her bathrobe came off in Jessica’s hands, exposing a body that had not aged gracefully. She began sobbing uncontrollably.
I shook my head and grabbed my partner’s arm. “Let’s get out of here.”
Jessica didn’t move. “But she tried to hit me.”
“She just lost her daughter. And she tried to do what everyone around you wants to do.”
I tugged on Jessica’s arm again, this time more forcefully. She finally began moving.
***
An hour later, we arrived at Melanie Grace’s house in the San Fernando Valley, a few miles north of Hollywood. On the way, I had to listen to Jessica’s lecture about how her partner, Barry Liebowitz, would have backed her up and helped her arrest Linda Warner. I did my best to tune out the tirade by thinking about our case.
Our investigation was going nowhere fast. At the same time, we were getting a lot of pressure up the chain to make something happen.
The press was also having a field day with the case. After three days, it was still the lead story in all the papers and still making the rounds of the gossip shows and tabloids. We needed to catch a break and I hoped that Melanie Grace could help us out with that.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to having that mutt follow us around,” Jessica said as we rang Grace’s doorbell.
Jessica and I had tried to bury the hatchet a couple of times over the past few days, but the day’s events and her comment unearthed it again.
“Better get used to it,” I said. “Bernie’s been permanently assigned to RHD with me, thanks to his work on the last couple of cases.”
“His fur flies everywhere. I can’t wear black when I’m around him or I end up looking like a hairball.”
“I think that comes naturally,” I said as Melanie Grace answered the door.
Michael Clinton’s former marketing manager led us through her Mediterranean style home to a courtyard where we took seats around a wrought iron table. She poured us each a glass of iced tea. We’d made the appointment the day before and, while she said she had nothing worthwhile to offer us, Grace had reluctantly agreed to the meeting.
“Just to get something out of the way,” Melanie Grace began. “I want you to know that Michael Clinton and I had an affair but it ended six months ago.”
Clinton’s former employee swept blonde bangs out of her green eyes. Melanie Grace was attractive. In fact, she reminded me of one of those former Miss. America contestants. Her face was sweet and unblemished. It was easy to see why Michael had been interested in her.
Grace went on, “What happened is a tragedy, but I hadn’t talked to Michael in months. He fired me after we broke off our relationship.”
“I understand that you were Michael’s marketing manager,” I said.
She sipped her tea, set it aside. “That was my official title. I was really more of a go between. If Michael had a client that he wanted to curry favors with, he often brought me along to…I guess you could say I was the eye candy. My job was to make his male clients think I was interested in them so they’d do business with Michael.”
“What did you know about Michael’s business interests and products?” Jessica asked.
“Very little, really. As I said, my job was to make an impression that would set the stage for Michael to close the deal. It didn’t go beyond that.”
“Were you in love with Michael?” I asked, hoping I could move the discussion in a more personal direction.
Grace pushed her glass around on the table for a moment. “I thought I was, but I was wrong.” She brushed a tear from the corner of her eye. “When China found out about our relationship, she broke off their engagement. When that happened, Michael called me and said he never wanted to see me again.”
“That must have been devastating.”
Grace kept her composure. “If you think I had anything to do with hurting China or Michael because of what happened, you’re wrong. It took me a couple of months, but I moved on, found another relationship.”
“Let’s talk about that,” I said. “I understand that Steven Drummond is your new guy?”
“We’ve been dating for a couple of months. He’s a wonderful man.” Grace’s voice took on an edge. “If you’re also thinking Steven had something to do with the killings, you’re way off base.”
“We understand that Steven worked for Michael earlier in his career and they had some sort of falling out. Do you know what that was about?”
“I think it had something to do with some software they worked on together, but I don’t know any of the details.” She tapped an acrylic on the glass tabletop. “Businesses are built on finding an edge or a niche and exploiting it. It shouldn’t be any surprise to you there was no love lost between Michael and Steven. They were rivals in a very competitive industry.” Grace tossed her hair back. “As you can tell from our relationship, Michael wasn’t a very ethical or moral person. But all that aside, it doesn’t make either me or, for that matter, Steven a killer.”
Back on the sidewalk, I let Bernie sniff some flowers as Jessica and I discussed our interview.
“She seems credible to me,” I said. “Obviously, she was heartbroken over Michael and rebounded with Steven, but I don’t think it went any farther than that.”
“Maybe we should interview Drummond,” Jessica suggested. “We might get a better feel for how deep his animosity toward Michael went.”
I agreed with her, but felt like the case had now completely stalled out. All we’d learned over the past few days was that Michael Clinton had a lot of business interests and a lot of enemies, but none of that added up to someone wanting to kill him and his bride in bed on their wedding night. As Natalie might have said, I was beginning to feel like I needed to pull some magic out of my ass.
As it turned out, the magic came out of the air. My phone rang and I heard Brie Henner’s voice on the line.
“We’ve got a DNA match,” Brie said. “China Warner was sleeping with a man named, Malik Brown. He did some prison time for assault and drug possession.”
“Do you have an address for him?” I asked.
After Brie gave me the address the DMV had on file, she said, “There’s one other thing you should know. Brown’s been clean for the past few years, except for being detained and questioned a couple of times.”
“What for?”
“Soliciting prostitution.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“I can’t believe we’re sitting here in this bitch basket,” Jessica said.
Bernie came up from the backseat and pushed his big wet nose against my neck. “Can you think of a better car for a stakeout in this neighborhood?”
We were in Olive on a street in Compton, a city about twenty miles south of Hollywood best known for its street gangs. We’d been watching Malik Brown’s apartment for the past two hours. Most of the time had been spent with me listening to Jessica complain about my car, my dog, and everything else in the known universe.
While Jessica’s mouth ran, I spent the time contemplating her death. I know it’s not something a homicide cop is supposed to do, but I had explicit fantasies about slitting her throat and stuffing her in a dumpster. Would anyone miss her? I wondered if Jessica Barlow had a friend in the world. From what I knew, she’d never been married and lived alone.
After giving up on the murder fantasy, I interrupted Jessica’s sermon on why dogs should not be allowed on a police force, and said, “Any thoughts on why China was sleeping with a piece of scum like Malik Brown?”
It took my new partner a moment to refocus her energies. I think I stopped her sermon in the nick of time. I had a feeling Bernie was about to go for her throat. I probably should have just shut up and let events take their course.
“Maybe Brown was an old boyfriend who’d come back in town,” Jessica finally said.
We’d both seen a copy of Malik Br
own’s rap sheet. “He doesn’t seem the boyfriend type. Maybe he knew something from China’s past?”
“What could possibly...”
“There he is,” I said.
Malik Brown was alone, sauntering down the sidewalk to his apartment, full of attitude and swagger. He was wearing baggy pants riding low on his hips.
“Let’s intercept him before he makes it to the apartment,” I said, opening the car door. Bernie was at my side. Jessica hovered behind us as we hurried up the street and cut off the gangster.
“Malik Brown, we’d like to talk to you for a moment,” I said.
I held up my shield, gave him our names, at the same time feeling the vibration of a low growl coming up Bernie’s leash.
“I’m not holding,” Brown said. He opened his jacket showing us that he didn’t have any drugs on him.
“We just want to ask you a few questions,” I said. “Can we talk in your apartment?”
He cocked his head. “What this shit ‘bout?”
“The death of a woman named China Warner.”
I saw something register in Brown’s face for just an instant, but wasn’t sure about the emotion. “Heard it was some nasty shit that went down, but I got nuth’n to do with it.”
“Good. Just give us a few minutes and we’re square.”
He motioned for us to follow. “Happy to share my time with y’all. My lady’s working tonight anyway.” He looked at Bernie. “You can even bring the mutt.”
Brown’s dingy little apartment overlooked an alley where I had no doubt he dealt drugs. I noticed the kitchen table was covered with beer cans as I placed my business card on it. The place smelled like a cross between a brewery and something Charlie always referred to as “felony funk.”
“How well did you know, China Warner?” I asked, after taking a seat in a chair across from Brown with Bernie at my feet. Jessica stood, probably afraid that she’d get something else on her fur-covered silk pants.
“Never met the lady,” he said, reaching over to the counter for a beer he’d removed from the fridge. “Just heard ‘bout the kill’n on the TV. Life’s a bitch, bitch.”
Jessica said, “We’re not bitches and we know that you had a relationship with China. Tell us about that.”
Brown smiled, opened open his beer. “Aren’t you the sassy one. Whatcha doing later? I might wanna see what I can do with that crazy attitude. I could make you real happy, teach you how to be nice to us ghetto folk.”
Jessica’s face flushed. Her voice was tight. “We can take this downtown where you can spend the next few days in jail working on your attitude.”
Brown swigged his beer and looked at me. “Man, somebody needs to beat the bumpers off this bitch. Just wondering how you deal?”
“I fantasize about slitting her throat, tossing her body in a landfill.” Okay, I didn’t say it. Instead, I decided to cut to the chase. “Let me spell this out for you, Mr. Brown. The body of China Warner has been autopsied and it seems that you left a certain kind of fingerprint, as in DNA, in her body. You want to talk about that?”
“You bitches are crazy, making up shit like that.”
I stood up and pulled out my handcuffs. Bernie was pulling on his leash wanting a piece of the gangster. Jessica had her hand on her gun. “Okay, we’re done with the chit chat. Stand up and turn around.”
Brown held up his hands. “Alright. Let’s be civil. Y’all my people, too.” He looked at Jessica who still had her hand on her weapon before his eyes found me again. “Well, maybe not the bitch with the steel dick.” He guzzled the beer and tossed the can in the corner, missing the trash can. “China and I had a thing going on for a while.”
“How long had you been seeing her?” I asked.
“This time just a few weeks. But we go way back.”
“Tell us about that.”
Brown found another beer in the fridge, popped it open, and sat down again. “We dated a few years back. My business interests were paying off real good at the time, so we got together for a while.” He drank more beer. “I ran into her a few weeks back where they film that TV show of hers.”
“Hollywood Daybreak?”
“Yeah. China was real nervous that people would find out ‘bout her past, so we made a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” Jessica demanded.
Brown smiled at my new partner and said, “I just figured you out. You’re like some crazy bitch outta one of them TV shows where they go crazy about their cheat’n boyfriends.”
It was obvious Jessica was about to explode. I cut off the confrontation. “Tell us about the deal, now.”
Brown’s gaze came over to me. “China agreed to keep her mouth open when I wanted it, if you know what I mean, in exchange for me agreeing to keep mine shut.”
Jessica was bright red and shaking with anger. She couldn’t keep her own mouth shut a second longer. “Why would someone like China have sex with a piece of crap like you?”
Brown laughed. “Man, you some crazy piece of ugly ass, gett’n all wild ‘n stuff. A few whacks and slaps and I’ll bet you’d be some kinda crazy fun in the sack.”
Jessica took a step toward him. I put an arm out, trying to keep her from clocking him. “Okay, no more insults. Explain the arrangement that you and China had now or this ends at the station.”
Brown chugged the rest of his beer, wiped his mouth. “Okay, let’s finish this monkey shit. China worked for Discrete. I met her through her agent, a guy named Chauncey. A few years back, old Chauncey and me did a little business together. In return, he set up a few dates for me, including some with China.”
“Are you talking about, Marvin Chauncey?”
“Yeah. When I ran into China again a few weeks ago, she agreed to the arrangement. The love machine got to do his thing again. All I had to do was keep quiet ‘bout her past.”
I looked at Jessica and then back to Brown. “Are you saying that China Warner was a prostitute?”
Brown’s lips turned up, exposing the diamond embedded in his front tooth. “Oh yeah. Too bad she’s gone. That was one piece of primetime pussy.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
After a restless night’s sleep, Bernie and I stopped by Charlie’s house on the way to the station. I took a few minutes to fill him in on the case, including telling him about my new partner.
“That woman should be taken out and shot,” he said.
Charlie then went on a five minute verbal rampage about Jessica which caused me to worry about his blood pressure. My partner and Jessica had a history, the most recent dispute involving Jessica accusing him of stealing her yogurt, something called a Brown Cow, from the break room fridge. Charlie retaliated by baking her a pie—as in a cow pie. The payback had resulted in him receiving a written reprimand, but the Brown Cow Bandit had taken his lumps without regret.
I finally got him to calm down and changed the subject. “Any word on when you might be able to return to work?”
“They’re telling me a couple of weeks. I’m going stir crazy.”
As we talked, he poured us some coffee and then pulled a box of chocolate donuts out of the fridge. “What’s with the junk food? You know you’ve got to lose weight and change your diet.”
“I know. I just figure that I’m down a few calories from eating nothing but hospital food for the last couple of days, so I’m using up the credits. Then it’s all salads and protein, I promise.” He crammed half a donut in his mouth. “Besides, fat people are harder to kidnap.”
It was useless to argue with him, especially when it came to food. “Has Wilma been by to check on you?”
He spoke between bites. “She’s been by a couple of times...even took Irma to school for me this morning...” Charlie’s sad brown eyes came over to me. “Tell you the truth...I’m not feeling like I’m meeting her needs after everything that’s happened.”
It took me a moment to get what he meant. “Oh.” I fumbled for something to say but realized I had no idea what to say.
>
“I’ve been thinking, with all that talk about jelqing and G-Stims,” Charlie continued, “maybe I need to take some sex education classes...I’m probably a little out of practice about some things.”
I shrugged and was again at a loss for words. Finally, I said, “I’m sure you’ll feel better soon...”
“I think maybe Wilma’s seeing somebody else.”
I almost laughed out loud. Wilma Bibby had recently gotten a friend to do a makeover on her. The result was that she looked like a scary, middle-aged clown. I couldn’t imagine anyone else being interested in her. “What makes you think she’s seeing someone?”
Charlie finished the last of his donut. With his mouth full, he said, “I tried to get friendly last night, but she wasn’t interested.”
“You just had a heart attack. She’s probably worried about you.”
“Maybe.” His eyes glistened. “Do you think you could do a little detective work for me, stop by and see Wilma? Try to get an idea if she’s still interested?”
The last thing I wanted to do was play lonely hearts detective for Charlie, but I also knew that I’d do almost anything for my partner. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks. In the meantime, I think I’ll spend my down time doing some sex education on the Internet.”
I made my excuses and headed for the door with Bernie, trying to keep images of Charlie surfing Internet porn sites out of my mind.
***
When Bernie and I got to the station, Lieutenant Edna announced that Pearl had finished working on the Betina case and would now take the lead on the wedding murders. He asked Jessica and me to meet them in a conference room for an update.
When I walked by Edna’s office, I understood why he didn’t want to meet in his office. Someone had removed the name plate on his door and installed one that said, Lieutenant Henrietta. My boss had tried to cover it with paper, but his new moniker was clearly visible.
“When I catch the SOB who put that sign up, the fucker’s gonna be singing soprano,” Edna said as we settled into the conference room with Pearl.
