Billy looked across the four lanes of traffic toward the reservoir. “I don’t think the view is worth it. Listen to the traffic. And if I wanted to go running around the reservoir, I’d have to battle the cars to cross the street. “
“Well, my man, let me put it to you this way—you see the sign hanging on the fence way over there past the lanes of traffic and the jogging path?”
Billy squinted into the distance. “I don’t see anything.”
“Trust me, it’s there. These houses are about to take off in value because of that one little sign. Even if we added in Copeland’s pay and Linsey’s too, we still wouldn’t have enough.” Romero shut the car door, closed his eyes tight as his breath hitched with a thought. “Linsey is going to kill me.” He patted his pockets for a toothpick. “We have been so busy I haven’t touched base with her.” He slammed his palm on the roof of the Mustang. “Let’s get this done. I have to stop by Linsey’s.”
The house was like a white mansion stretching toward the clear, blue sky. The two detectives climbed the marble steps to the covered porch. The door opened as soon as they approached. A woman of slight build was framed in the doorway. She attempted a smile. The detective could not help but notice she had had some work done on her face recently which looked to them as if she needed a refund. Her lips appeared as if she had been in a fight with a swarm of bees and she’d had an allergic reaction.
“Mrs. Harden, we’re here to see the mayor,” Romero said.
Her eyes went to the marble step-up at the doorway. “Yes, I know. I hope you can help. He’s beside himself with worry.”
“That’s why we’re here, ma'am.”
“Your lady partner is with Gerald...I mean the mayor.”
She led them to the sitting room. The mayor's wife stopped at the wide archway leading to the expansive room. She stepped aside to let them pass. She continued on to another part of the home. Business was something she did not partake in; especially the problem her husband was about to reveal.
Mayor Harden was standing at the bay window with his foot propped on the window seat, his arm resting on his knee. Copeland was sitting on the settee watching the television. Angry chants emitted from the widescreen recessed in the wall.
"Good evening, Mayor," said Romero walking forward extending his hand.
"Glad you made it," he said shaking Romero's hand and then Billy's. "Good to have you on board, son. I'm depending on you."
"Thanks, sir," Billy said.
Romero greeted Copeland. "Hey, Cope, what's all the noise about?"
"Looks like some people are unhappy about the little league coach being jailed without bond."
"That seemed kind of harsh to me also. If I was not on the force, I can imagine myself being out there protesting."
"This is not good." Mayor Harden began pacing in front of the window. "This is an election year. My office is supposed to ensure that the public perceives that they live in a safe city, even if they don't. My office is supposed to instill a sense of confidence in our criminal justice system. This debacle here is just another match added to the fire.”
“Sir,” Romero scratched his head, “I have to ask; why is this little league coach being held without bond? Any insight?”
Looking out the window toward the reservoir, Mayor Harden said, “I have never questioned Judge Mason. She has always been a no-nonsense, fair judge.”
“So, why is she holding Jesse? You know she let the white guy skip out. Now, that one has a shopping list of charges against him. But...” Romero twisted up one side of his mouth and squinted one eye. He saw the mayor about to protest his angle. “Just hear me out, because people are going to punctuate that fact. We let the white guy go and held on to the black one.”
“We have to snip that strand before it gets started,” said Mayor Harden.
“Too late,” Billy said. “That’s why you have a rambunctious crowd gathered on the courthouse steps.” He picked up the remote from the couch table and increased the volume. Pool was reporting.
“This just in—the death count attributed to a new drug on the street has increased as of today.” Pool looked down at the papers in his hand for a split second and then back toward the camera. “Little is known about this potent killer which is being called Lemon Spice. Folks,” he peered into the camera and donned a serious, headed to a funeral face. “It’s deadly. Keep your distance. It is time to sit the teens down and have a chat about drug use. This warning must be taken seriously if you want your son or daughter to come home safely.”
The mayor sighed heavily. “Killer drugs. Unfair imprisonment. How am I going to fix all of this? The election; I haven’t a chance in hell of coming out on top.”
Copeland stood up. “Fellas.” She pinned Romero and Billy with a worried stare. “The kidnappers have made contact.” She glanced at the mayor. “They have silenced him. Whatever the terms, he’s not sharing.”
Romero went and stood at the window with the mayor. “How are we going to find your niece if you’re not going to share information. Their demands—”
“His demands.”
“There’s only one kidnapper?” asked Romero.
Mayor Harden nodded.
“So, what does he want? Money?”
Mayor Harden refuse to meet Romero’s eyes.
“Something else? Some type of fame? Do you have access to something he wants? You’re the key?” asked Romero.
Mayor Harden shifted foot to foot, stuffed his hands in his pockets. “He has me by the throat. I have to play by his rules. No cops. No taps. No wires.”
Copeland said, “Mayor, we need more so we can bring Gina home alive. We need the demands. Have you been given any instructions for an exchange?”
The phone rang. Mayor Harden sprinted across the room, grabbing it on the second ring.
“Mayor Harden here.”
“You promised no cops!” Gina screamed into the phone. He’s going to kill me.”
The mayor heard a loud slap which sounded like that of a hand contacting skin, Gina whimpering.
A male voice came on the line. “I want the top spot, Mayor. If I don’t get it, your safely guarded information will go public and Gina will show up on your steps a piece at a time. You have forty-eight hours.” The line went dead.
Chapter 28
Ghost white was the only description that described the mayor as he hung up the phone. He swayed on his feet. Romero rushed over, took the mayor by the elbow and his shoulder, guided him to the closest chair, helped him to sit.
“Mayor?” Romero said.
But, Mayor Harden didn’t hear him. His eyes were unfocused, his face—no expression.
Romero squeezed the mayor’s shoulder lightly. “What did he say?”
“He’s going to kill Gina and send her here in little piec...” His voice trailed off. “My fault. This is all my fault.”
“Mayor, you have got to help us make sense of this,” said Romero.
Copeland came over. “How is this your fault? You have to give us something. Gina’s life is hanging on your shoulders.”
“I know, I know.” He bowed his head and laced his fingers.
Billy motioned to Copeland. She joined him in front of the television. “Pool is reporting again.”
“That man gets under my skin. He’s always trying to get ahead of the bullet. What’s he saying?”
“He’s talking about Jesse Owens. Says the Prosecution does not have a thread of evidence against the man. He also said Jesse has never been arrested. Then he threw dynamite into the crowd saying why is the black man who has never committed a crime still in jail, and the white man with a laundry list of crimes out roaming our streets?”
“This is going to get worse if the mayor doesn’t step in,” said Copeland.
Their eyes were drawn to the television when the chanting started again. Banners were hoisted into the air, pumped up and down. “Let Jesse go. Let Jesse go.”
Pool stepped in front of a man at the
head of the group, pushed his mic under the man’s mouth. “Break this down for us, sir. Why has this crowd gathered and grown in size?”
The man’s hair was black, natural, neatly styled. He was clean shaven. Well-dressed. Wisdom in his eyes. “Are you familiar with The Constitution of the United States?” the man asked.
Pool opened his mouth to speak, closed it when the man began to speak without waiting on an answer.
“The Eighth amendment of the US Constitution of the year 1791 states excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted. An accused is presumed innocent until found guilty. In the case of Jesse Owens, I believe no bail is excessive, and holding this man who has proven himself a pillar of the community is cruel and unusual punishment.”
Pool swept the mic from the man to his own mouth. “Are you a lawyer?”
“Not in your courts, but in the court of the most-high. God spoke to me, and told me to get down here and protect the rights of this righteous, upstanding citizen.”
“I see,” Pool said.
“Actually, I don’t think you do. Martin Luther King preached nonviolence and you see what it got him? Violence. Sir, I have climbed to the top of the mountain and stood in the light. I listened to the words spoken from the tree. The same words spoken by Martin Luther King as he stood speaking before the sanitation workers of Tennessee. ‘We don’t have to argue with anybody. We don’t have to curse and go around acting bad with our words. We don’t need any bricks and bottles. We don’t need any Molotov cocktails.’ So, you see, sir, we will free Mr. Jesse Owens. No violen—”
“Forgive me, sir, but the first stone has already been cast—at the mayor. Remember?”
The man straightened his shoulders and huffed. “You see, that’s the problem with you reporters, always twisting the facts to make your story sound good.” The man turned his back and began walking away, saying under his breath, “Bastard.”
Copeland slowly shook her head. “As usual, Pool picked the most infected plant in the crop.”
Billy glanced at the mayor. “Mayor Harden isn’t looking so hot.”
Copeland peered over at the mayor. Romero was talking to him. “I have to agree with you. He looks like a ghost.”
“Have you ever seen him like this? Beaten down?” Billy asked.
“Can’t say that I have. He spends all of his time claiming fame for solving crimes that he has never lifted a finger to investigate; stealing the spotlight from the hardworking detectives and officers, but he has never been the victim.”
“I see,” Billy said.
Copeland said, “Actually, I don’t think you do.” She let go of a belly-aching laugh.
Billy’s laughter matched hers.
“Thing is,” Copeland said, “Gina is like gold to the mayor. She may not be his daughter, but he treats her like one. She has always been his priority since the day she came to live with him.”
“Why was she living with him instead of her parents?”
“Her mother died and his brother didn’t have the patience to raise a young child alone. The mayor was married and his wife agreed to help. So, they took Gina in as their own.”
Billy snorted. “It’s hard to imagine him doing something so selfless.”
“I know. But, I can’t imagine why he won’t cooperate with us, tell us what we need to know to bring her home.”
Billy’s gaze drifted to the mayor and Romero. “Don’t worry, Romero will get it out of him.”
“If he doesn’t, I will. And if he refuses to talk, I will search until I find the answer. There is nothing that bothers me more than a puzzle with missing pieces.”
Billy chuckled. Copeland aimed the remote at the television and muted the sound. Her and Billy ambled over and joined Romero as he stood in front of the mayor.
Romero turned to Billy and Copeland, said, “He’s ready to talk.”
Chapter 29
Jeffrey was dressed in one of his high-powered court suits. Gloria was dressed in her Sunday’s best, as was her young son. They sat in the visiting room waiting for Jesse to be brought in.
“How long do you think he will have to stay here in this God-forsaken place?” Gloria asked.
“I’m working to get him bail and to prove his innocence.”
“As hard as you would work for the convicts with the long money?” Gloria narrowed her eyes.
“What’s long money?” asked her young son.
“Rich people, honey. They have lots of money. I guess you can say it will take them a long way to getting them what they want.”
“Oh.” Her son checked out the cement floor. He looked at his mother and asked, “When is Coach Jesse coming?”
“Daddy,” Gloria corrected “Remember our conversation?”
He nodded, swinging his legs as if he was a on a swing in a park. “I wish he was my daddy; then he would be alive.”
Gloria squeezed her son’s hand. “I know, baby.”
Jesse was led into the visiting area by a guard. Jeffrey stood up, shook Jesse’s hand.
“You doing okay, man?”
Jesse sat down and folded his hands on the picnic-like table. “As well as can be expected considering the circumstances.”
Jeffrey sat next to Gloria. “We need to discuss—”
“We don’t need to discuss nothing,” said Gloria. “You need to work your uptown magic and get Jesse out of here.”
Jeffrey pinned Jesse with a questioning stare. “Are you sure you two weren’t involved?”
Jesse spread his hands. “Man—”
Gloria cut in, “He’s my fiancé now, and my son’s father. That’s what counts, right, Mr. Lawyer? I’m doing my part, now, you do yours and get him outta here. This ain’t no place for a man like Jesse.”
Jeffrey rubbed at his chin. “Just out of curiosity, what type of man is Jesse?”
Jesse sat back. “I can’t wait to hear this.”
Jeffrey leaned forward on his elbows. Andre’s swinging legs paused.
“He’s a good coach,” said Andre showing all of his teeth, including the space where his loose tooth had wedged in an apple which netted him fifty cents from the Tooth Fairy.
The adults laughed.
“He’s a good man,” Gloria said. “An upstanding citizen, and according to the gossip—the marrying type.”
Jesse threw up his hands. “Nix on that. Nope, not me.”
“Well,” said Jeffrey drawing out the word. “You are Gloria’s fiancé.” He chuckled. “Her soon to be husband.”
Gloria smiled over at Jesse. “I love you, baby.”
Jesse’s eyes rounded along with his mouth.
“Me too, Daddy,” said Andre.
Jesse’s breath caught in his chest. His hands went up as if fending off an attack. “I...I... don’t know about ...I didn’t sign up for this, man.”
“Don’t worry, if you’re not happy, I’ll give you a divorce.” Gloria smiled wide at Jesse.
Jeffrey chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “She’s not serious, Jesse.”
“The hell I ain’t.” She stood up for emphasis and mashed her palms against her waist. “All those women chasing after the man who can’t be bedded, and now he’s mine.” She looked at Jesse as if he was a piece of dark chocolate cake, her favorite dessert.
Jesse recoiled as if he had come too close to a hot oven.
“Don’t worry, baby, if you’re not happy, Jeffrey will handle the divorce for free.”
Jesse popped up. “No one said anything about a real marriage. I like my single status.”
Jeffrey narrowed his eyes at Gloria. “Cool it. We have work to do.” He looked up at Jesse. “She’s just trying to get up under your skin, and it’s working. You, Gloria, and Andre are a family unit for outward appearances, only.”
“It was nice while it lasted,” Gloria said. “You know I was only kidding, Jesse.”
Jesse wiped sweat off his brow, shrugged his shoulders.<
br />
Jeffrey said, “Have you been able to keep up with the news?”
“I have been getting bits and pieces here and there.”
“Did you see how the community is rallying for your release?
Jesse nodded.
“And someone threw a rock at the mayor,” said Gloria.
Jeffrey lifted his brief case from the floor, sat it on the table, and popped it open. “We need to go over everything that happened starting from before you entered the store all the way up to when you were arrested.”
Jesse said, “There is a group in here that meets to discuss—things.”
“Things?” Jeffrey repeated.
“Yes, I think they are off the record. They use first names and talk openly about their crimes without their lawyers being present. All of that aside, there’s one thing that really rattles me. Gina told me that I don’t know why I’m here, but she does.”
“Gina, the mayor’s niece?”
“Yes.”
“She’s missing. Did you know that?”
Jesse shook his head. “Naw, man. The last time I saw her she...” His words trailed off while he took a moment to figure out how much of the meeting to divulge. “She said she could prove the drugs weren’t mine, and she had a plan. Now she’s gone? And her sidekick psychologist turned prison guard is a weird one. This can’t be coincidence.”
“I’m inclined to agree with you. I think I’ll pay Detective Romero a visit today.”
“Can I come along?” Gloria asked.
Jeffrey peered over at Andre. “You can’t be my shadow. You have a child to look after. Look, Gloria, don’t worry, I believe in Jesse’s innocence. I will honor our agreement.”
“To work as hard for him as you do the uptown scum?”
Jeffrey nodded. “Yes, even harder.”
Chapter 30
Mayor Harden was no longer ghost-white. His cheeks had more color now. He was steadier on his feet. He ambled over to the large picture window and stared out across the lanes of traffic all the way over to the reservoir.
The 13th Hour: A Marston Thriller (The Marston Series Book 4) Page 8
