“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“Just that. His back was turned. There wasn’t a clear—”
Madison laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“You. You get all worked up about this appointment and tell me everything you’re going to teach your son. I tell you it doesn’t really matter which sex you have, you tell me it does. And now here, it’s camera shy.”
“Not it, he.”
“It could be a she.”
Terry flicked his computer monitor on, signaling the end of the personal conversation. She filled him in on her morning and Sahara Noel.
“I would have loved to have seen her spit on you,” Terry said.
“I tell you everything she told me about Hennessey and her hate for Lacy, and your response is you would have liked to see her spit on me? And she missed by the way.”
“I can only imagine how angry you got. Were your earlobes red?”
“You’re a kid sometimes, you know that?”
“You take yourself too seriously sometimes.”
“She tried to spit on an officer—”
“But she missed. You pointed that out.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
The smirk lingered.
Madison let out a deep sigh. “I need a new partner.”
“Same old conversation. What would you do without me?”
“Sometimes, I think I’m willing to find out.” She narrowed her eyes.
“What else have you been doing besides eating chocolate bars and getting spit on?”
Madison scanned her desk and noticed the Hershey’s wrapper. She bunched it in her hand, swept it across the surface, and under her desk to the garbage can.
“What happened to this diet you’re on?”
“I’m not on a diet.”
“Apparently.”
“Seriously, Terry, I’m going to wipe that smirk off your face.”
DIET WAS A WORD PEOPLE invented to give themselves a name to define deprivation and sacrifice. Diets were what approximately seventeen percent incorporated into their New Year’s resolutions, yet statistically broke within the first week. Madison didn’t diet. Diets took commitment—the one word that scared Madison more than anything.
“I’m just watching what I’m eating.”
“Yeah, a diet.”
“It’s not a diet, Terry.” Her cell phone rang and she let it go for a few rings. She spent the time glaring at her partner, giving him a silent reprimand. “Knight.” She kept her eyes on him. “Hey, Cyn…whatcha got…okay…I know Richards has some samples coming to the lab too…I know you’re only one person…yes, and mine isn’t the only case…bye.”
“Let me guess, the lab’s not moving fast enough for little Maddy.”
“Oh shut up.” She scrunched up a piece of blank notepaper and threw it at him.
Terry caught it. “At least it wasn’t an elastic this time.”
“You’re still whining about that? That was months ago.” Madison rose to her feet.
“You got me right in the meaty part of the arm.”
Madison walked away and Terry followed her.
“Hey, where are you going?” he asked.
“We’re going to speak with Bates.”
“But you let him walk.”
“We had nothing to hold him. It doesn’t mean he may not prove more useful.”
-
Chapter 18
MADISON PULLED THE DEPARTMENT-ISSUED sedan to the curb in front of 923 Weber Street. Yellow tape blew in the breeze across the gate to the backyard as a silent reminder of what had transpired here. They had released the scene early that morning.
She filled her partner in on Cynthia Baxter’s findings on their way over.
She climbed the stairs to the upper landing and knocked on the apartment door. A blanket served as curtains in the large window that overlooked the backyard. It was draped askew, exposing a peephole of sorts. She paced the small balcony and pressed her face to the window where the blanket was open. She held a hand over her forehead to cut out the glare from the sun.
“He’s in there.” She rapped her knuckles on the glass, slow at first, then louder and more persistent. Eventually, he moved from the recliner he had been sleeping in. He noticed her in the window, and she saw him flail his hands in the air as he rose to his feet.
The door cracked open the width of a chain. “What do ya’ll want?” He rubbed a hand over his right eye.
“We need to talk to you.”
“I said everyt’ing the other day.”
“You didn’t tell us you knew about Lacy’s sugar daddy.”
“Huh, lady? Sugar what?”
“Her older boyfriend.”
Bates’s hand dropped to his side and his eyes squinted. “She didn’t have a—”
“She did actually. We’d like to come in and talk about him.”
“I didn’t do it.” He sniffed back hard. “Lacy was a sweet girl.”
“Let us inside, or we can drag your ass back downtown—your choice.”
The door closed, the chain released, and the door was opened wide.
“By all means. Yous ain’t leavin’ me alone. I’m the black guy so I must’ve done it. I know how you cops think.”
“Your record isn’t clean.” Madison recalled the B&E charges.
“That’s in the past.”
“There’s a saying that a leopard can’t change its spots.”
“Why are ya here?”
Bates didn’t offer them a place to sit. They stood inside the door.
The place was tiny and messy. The kitchen was straight ahead and was simply some counter space on either side of a single sink. The fridge was a pale green and the stove a burnt almond. Dishes were piled on every surface.
“Did you know about Lacy’s older boyfriend?”
His head shook rapidly, his dreadlocks swaying with the motion.
“But you did know about her fancy condo.”
She saw the flicker, the small spark of light flash in his eyes.
“What do you know about it?” she asked.
“I ain’t said I know about it.”
“Your eyes gave you away. Your prints were found there. Did you work with Hennessey to pimp Lacy and the other girls out?”
Bates’s face hardened.
“Can you explain why your prints were there?”
“I don’t have to answer to you poleece.”
“You do actually.” Madison placed a hand over her holster, careful not to make any contact with it.
“You threatening me now? You gonna shoot me if I don’t answer the way you like?” Bates’s arms were restless and moved pointlessly. His thumbs went to latch onto his jean pockets but released as quickly as they touched them.
Terry stepped closer to Bates. “You help sell her stuff to buy drugs? She was money to you. She wasn’t making it anymore. She was trying to get her life straightened around.”
Bates laughed. “That girl was bad news.”
“You said Lacy was a sweet girl.” Madison reminded him of his earlier words.
His eyes went between her and Terry. “I don’t wanna say anyt’ing more.”
“You don’t have to, but we can also drag your ass downtown—” Madison looked to Terry. “I actually think that’s a good idea. Let’s do it.”
-
Chapter 19
“LET’S START WITH YOU EXPLAINING why you were in Lacy’s condo.”
They were back at the station and Bates sat across from them in interrogation room one.
“I never was.”
“Your prints put you there.”
A hand flailed forward, pawing at the air. “Someone is settin’ me up.”
“You’r
e going to have to do a lot better than that,” Terry said.
“But I ain’t do it, man.” Bates sucked in on his bottom lip and sank farther into his chair.
“You work with us and we’ll work with you.”
“You tryin’ to set me up.” Bates looked from Terry to Madison.
“Your prints were found in many places throughout the condo.”
“I’m tellin’ you—”
“And why? Tell us why someone wants you to take the fall. Your prints wouldn’t magically appear.”
“Dunno.” Bates rubbed a hand on his thigh.
“Did he know about you and Lacy?”
Bates made eye contact.
“It would explain a lot. He got jealous and killed Lacy because of it.” Madison glanced at Terry, who braced against the wall behind Bates. “Your prints were all over. You were sleeping together.”
“No.” A flicker shone in his eyes.
Madison rose to her feet. “You’re going to start talking, or I’m going to throw you into holding. It will remind you of what’s at stake.”
“Looks to me, you’s the one who’s hostile.”
“Were you sleeping with Lacy? Yes or no?”
“It wasn’t—”
“Yes or no?” Madison held eye contact with Bates until he turned away.
“Okay. I was at the apartment.”
“Hooking up?”
“No.” Bates shook his head, his dreads going with the motion again.
“You’re going to let a sweet girl go without justice?”
Bates lifted his palms off the table. His eyes misted over.
“Listen, I can tell you cared about her.”
“I didn’t kill her. I tell ya that.”
“Did Hennessey?”
Silence.
Madison smacked the table and repeated her question. “Did Hennessey?”
Bates covered his face with his hands. Madison and Terry shared a look as Madison took a seat again.
“Listen, if you give us your sworn oath that Hennessey is the one who killed Lacy, if you’re privy to convincing evidence—”
“I ain’t saying the man did it.” Bates’s hands lowered.
Madison pointed a finger at him. “But you know who did.”
MADISON AND TERRY STOOD OUTSIDE the room and looked in on Bates.
“There’s no way he’s going to hand over his friend,” Madison said.
“He said that Hennessey didn’t do it.”
Madison faced her partner. “And you believe that?”
“Until we have more to go on.”
They walked back into the interrogation room. Terry sat while Madison paced around the table. Bates sat with his head bowed.
“Hennessey knew about the condo and the healthcare and—”
Bates looked her in the eyes. Something about the way they glazed over had Madison questioning the man’s complete innocence.
“He didn’t like the attention Lacy was getting from this other man.” Madison moved in close to him. “Did he?”
Silence.
“Was she trying to straighten out her life, come off his leash?”
Bates didn’t respond.
“Yes, we know about the pimping.”
“She wasn’t into all that anymore. She wanted a new life.”
“You sound sad about that. This man who set her up with a condo, was she sleeping with him?”
“No.”
“That was a quick response.”
His eyes shifted from hers for a brief moment. “I know he wasn’t her type.”
Madison straightened up. “What would make you say that? He took care of her, set her up in a condo, bought her nice things—”
“He wasn’t the one, a’ight.”
“Who was?”
“Lace was a pretty girl. Everybody wanted to get up with ’er, but she no be spreadin’ her legs for anyone.”
“Hennessey pimped her out.”
The dreads shook rapidly. “Not her idea.”
“Is that why Hennessey killed her? She refused to keep doing it?”
“I said he didn’t, a’ight.”
Terry stretched out in the chair, extended his legs, and slipped his hands into his pockets. He jingled the change there. It warranted a glance from Bates.
“I’m sure you can understand why we can’t take your word for it,” Madison said.
Bates let out a large sigh. “What do you people want from me?”
“Who was this other man?”
Bates’s eyes flickered. “I never said—”
“Listen, the truth of the matter is, your friend’s looking pretty good for this, so unless you give us—”
“I think the guy’s name was Andy.” Bates’s jaw tightened and shifted askew for an instant before realigning. His eyes remained unfocused.
-
Chapter 20
“A FIRST NAME. That’s all he could give us.” Madison pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the mirrorpane and looked in on Bates.
“Did you want his social too?” Terry asked.
Madison gave him a cool look. “Yes, Terry, actually, I’d love that.” She paused a few beats. “The way he came back with Andy so quickly, I even wonder if he just made him up.”
They headed back into the room with Bates. They had been questioning him for hours but didn’t seem to be getting far.
Madison sat across from him. She didn’t believe Bates when he had said the name Andy; maybe it had to do with his facial language.
“Do you own a gun?”
Bates’s eyes skirted from the table to her eyes, to Terry, to the wall, to the window behind them.
“I’ll take that as a yes. There’s none registered to you.”
“Why are you looking at me? I gave yous a name.”
“We need to be certain. You had motive too. You saw Lacy with two other men, possibly three.” She referred to Hargrove, who set her up in the condo, Hennessey, and perhaps an Andy. “And you didn’t like it. You made her shoot herself—”
“She shot herself?” Bates slid his bottom lip through his teeth.
“Seems like it,” Madison stated casually, coolly.
“She would never.”
“Would Hennessey?” Madison pushed him hard, hoping he would eventually give up his friend.
“You’re confusing me.”
“Someone either made her pull the trigger, or made it look like she did. And she didn’t put herself in the ground.”
Bates avoided eye contact.
Madison wanted to ask if he had helped put her there, but she knew she would lose him. She clasped her hands. “I’ll ask again. Do you own a gun?”
“No.”
“We didn’t find one when we searched your place—”
“Then—”
“Doesn’t mean we won’t find one now.” Madison glanced at her partner, back at Bates. “Are you opposed to us searching again?”
Bates sat quietly, his eyes settling on nothing as they darted around the room. He eventually drew them up to meet with Madison’s. “Go ahead.”
-
Chapter 21
THEY COULD HAVE SEARCHED BATES’S residence when they went to ask him some questions about his fingerprints being found at the condo, but Madison knew they wouldn’t get anything out of the man. As it was, they never got a straight answer on why he was at the condo. It seemed Hennessey had as much control over Bates as he did over the women he pimped out.
“We never found anything the first time,” Terry said as he walked up the stairs behind her. “You really think he was stupid enough to bring it back here?”
“I guess we’ll find out. Like we’ve talked about. Criminals can be stupid.”
Madison
unlocked the door and they stepped inside. The interior had a faint smell of garbage she hadn’t picked up on when they were there earlier.
“I have a feeling we’re going to find it this time.”
“There’s that gut feeling.”
Madison smirked at her partner, and would have jabbed him in the shoulder if he were within range, but he headed left, toward the bedroom, while she went to the living area.
Bates had a gaming console sitting in the middle of the floor, the cords haphazardly streaming across to a flat screen television of approximately forty-two inches. Two of the gaming controllers sat on a suede ottoman that ran the length of the loveseat. Four game cases looked like they were tossed beside the controllers.
Madison looked at the game covers. “Our guy likes to play shoot ’em up,” she called out to Terry. “And it looks like he plays with someone else. Two controllers are out.”
She kept looking around the room, taking in the clutter that occupied the second-floor apartment. She had to think like Bates. After spending hours with him in a single room, she had an idea as to how his mind worked. If she were him, she’d hide something in plain view, thinking no one would assume to look there.
Her cell phone rang. “Knight.”
“Have you found my husband’s killer yet?”
It took Madison a moment to connect the out-of-context question to the caller. “Vilma?”
“Yes, who else would it be?” The woman sniffled on the other end.
“I actually—”
“You haven’t done anything.” Sobs filled the line.
“Listen, Miss—”
“Mrs. Thorne.”
“Mrs. Thorne.” Madison played along, knowing that technically she had been his fiancée at the time of his death. “I haven’t been able to find out anything new in your fiancé’s case. It was actually closed already—suicide.”
More sobs, but she spoke through them. “You…you said you’d look into it again. You’d reopen the case.”
“I said I’d see if I can find anything.”
“But you haven’t even tried, have you.” It was an accusation, not an inquiry.
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