Deviant Intent: OBSESSION

by Shakir Rashaan

  I smiled as she left, but I was still puzzled. She could have threatened me over the phone and gotten much the same results. So why had she come over? I didn’t believe the answer I came up with because I wouldn’t permit myself to believe it.

  But why not?

  The pavement was wet.

  The late afternoon rain couldn’t wash the sins of a city away; especially the sins that resulted in the murder of Sandra Jennings. I stood over the body one of my former college flings. For the first time in this whole ordeal I felt sick to my stomach.

  “Her neck is broken,” the medical examiner reported. “It’s not what I’m disclosing as cause of death, at least, not until I get her to the lab.”

  “Look here,” she continued. “There are finger marks around her neck; she was strangled. And the crazy thing about it is she didn’t fight back. There are no signs of any struggle.”

  “Hmmm,” it was easy to deduce that the victim knew the killer, I just couldn’t figure out the connection between Sandra and Sherrie. They never knew each other that well.

  I felt the vibration on my hip that let me know that my phone was ringing. I looked at the number and saw it was Natasha’s cell number.

  “Go ahead, Natasha,” I answered. “What do you have?”

  “I’m at the motel now. I talked to the other hotel guests,” Natasha said. “Accounts are she brought a date into the room yesterday afternoon, they couldn’t make out the other person very well. The two were very close, but that was all that they could really pay attention to. They closed the door and no one saw her until... well, not until now.”

  “There’s a coffee shop around the corner from the scene, meet me there in five minutes,” I ordered.

  I broke from the medical examiner and walked in the direction of the coffee shop, all the while I debated whether to tell Natasha about my connection to the latest victim.

  On the one hand, if I tell her, and she sticks to the book, then I would be off the case.

  On the other hand, since I was so intimately involved with the case, I deduced that she might bypass the rules a little in the interest of catching the killer.

  In the end, I decided to throw caution to the wind and let the chips fall where they may.

  We met at the coffee shop, found a booth near a window so that we could view the activity, and sat down and ordered a couple of drinks.

  “I was with the M.E. when you called me. It looks like they found another mark on her,” I told her, still debating in my head on the disclosure.

  “That was the information I was texted while I was meeting you over here. Dom, what is this all about?” she could feel the tension on me, and at that point there was no turning back.

  “I knew her, in college. We were study partners… among other things,” I finally got the nerve to say.

  “Oh my God, Dom, I’m sorry,” Natasha gasped.

  “I know, and it feels like a nightmare. Sherrie, I thought, was a coincidence, but now Sandra?” I stumbled through my words. “I really wasn’t sure if I was going to tell you about the personal connection or not, but I feel like I can trust you. But I know you have a duty to take me off the case because of the connections that keep coming up concerning me. Where do we go from here?”

  I admitted that I was more than shook.

  Two women murdered.

  Both have a connection to me.

  Someone was trying to get my attention.

  But what the fuck for?

  “We work the case, Cap trusts me to not screw up, and you know that being a detective at the unit. Let me worry about the angles for now,” she replied without a moment’s hesitation. “After all, you might have more insight on this because these women are connected to you. Did the two ever have contact? Ever meet?”

  “Sandra was at our wedding. She didn’t even stay long. We hadn’t spoken since I don’t know how long.”

  My phone went off. ID showed Ramesses on the cell phone.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Are you alright? I heard on the scanners about Sandra,” he asked, his voice cracking a little bit. I wondered if this case was getting to him as well.

  “Not sure, man. This is crazy right now.”

  “I hear you, bro, it sounds like you’ve got a serial killer on your hands. Stop by the office when you are done, I think we got a break on the Aris case,” his voice was back to its usual flow by the time we hung up.

  We started back over to the crime scene when Natasha got a text from the medical examiner.

  “Let’s keep the connection to me a secret for now, Natasha. I really don’t want off the case,” I requested. I don’t know why I felt the need to repeat it, but I wanted some semblance of peace of mind.

  Natasha nodded in agreement. I could become an inadvertent suspect and get kicked off the case, and right now, I didn’t need to be taken off.

  We arrived back at the scene with the M.E. waiting for us. “We found these when we lifted her

  up.”

  On Sandra’s left butt cheek was something that I guessed neither of us should have been too surprised about, but nevertheless it still freaked me out a little bit.

  The Roman numeral two was carved into her flesh.

  Yeah.

  Someone was definitely trying to get my attention.

  ~Nine~

  I had hoped to be able to get with Ramesses so that we could re-cap some of what I had dealt with. It was probably something I needed to get to, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why I needed to. I mean, after all, I was the more experienced law enforcement agent.

  I’m going to let you in on a little secret about Ramesses, though, and he probably might kill me for letting it slip, but here goes. Ramesses actually has a criminology degree, which means that he knew and understood criminal patterns and can actually profile a criminal mind and patterns.

  The reason why he never pursued it to its fruition?

  Have you seen what public criminologists make?

  Needless to say, he wasn’t going to be a beat cop, and took too long to become a detective, so, the degree got put on the back burner, and my partner became a shutterbug.

  It pissed his old man off, to put it mildly, until he found out that Ramesses never really did put down the studies and earned his Master’s degree in case the photography thing began to get on his nerves.

  It took fifteen years and a whole lot of capital from Amenhotep to give him the proper incentive to come back ‘home’. But we all knew that Ramesses made the right decision.

  Sometimes you have to have some things occur to have things come full circle.

  Anyway, there’s your short tidbit about my business partner that you might not have known.

  I sent a text about noon to meet up around 3 p.m. in his office so that we could touch bases and see what the next moves would be.

  I got a text back saying that 1 p.m. would be better because the natives were getting restless in the community and they wanted answers to calm the masses down.

  It costs to be the boss.

  Turned out, he had been keeping an ear to the streets and found out that the boards had been running rampant with rumors about who killed Aris, and that conspiracy theories were all over the place, every possible person that could be speculated was thrown out on the discussion boards, and it was getting uglier by the minute. People were getting nervous, not wanting to come out to different events because they didn’t want to be targeted.

  This thing with Aris was going to spiral out of control if we didn’t get a hold on things quickly.

  I pulled up to the office and headed into the building.

  Now, the building that Ramesses picked out is a six bedroom home located on a ten-acre lot that is tucked away in the midst of a residential area in College Park, a very nondescript area that gives one the illusion that there is nothing there. The driveway is hidden from the main road and there are enough trees and shrubbery lining the front that no one would really think twice about
just popping up.

  The house is pretty well secured, as you would imagine, with motion sensors, cameras in every possible crevice and corner, and fingerprinted access onto the property. Only the staff, and Neferterri and the girls, are able to access the location without alerting the cops.

  We spared no expense on that setup, and the same was done on with virtually every other property except for Liquid, as to not scare away business, although we secured that location a little bit differently.

  I scanned into the office and met up with Ayanna to check on any messages that were left with her then I headed into my office to get into the files and prepare for my meeting with Ramesses.

  “Dom, Ramesses is expecting you when you are ready, Sir,” Ayanna informed via instant message.

  “Thank you, please let him know I will be there in five minutes,” I replied, pulling the information onto

  my Blackberry.

  I walked down the hallway into Ramesses’ office, and as usual he was on the phone trying to coordinate business. I always wondered how he was able to keep calm under pressure like he does. I would have probably lost my cool a few times in the past couple of days, but then again, I was wired a little differently from him, too.

  He motioned for me to sit down as I overheard the last remnants of the latest conversation, “Yes, Ma’am, we are settling in as we speak right now, Dom and I have a few ideas on who might have committed the murder… no, My dear, I don’t think it was just one person, not the way I read the report, either… we will figure it out, Sin, when have I ever failed You?”

  Yeah, I was better off being the brawn of this outfit.

  He finally hung up the phone with Sinsual and rubbed his temples slowly, “God I love that woman, She’s family, but She can really roar when the occasion calls for it.”

  “So, what’s the next move, Sir?” I knew I had to keep it professional, but it was also a matter of respect as well for his station as my mentor, at least until he released me from that protocol.

  “What are your thoughts on the cases so far? We’ll start with Aris first, any thoughts?”

  “Crime of passion, to be honest, Sir,” I replied, trying to bring my profiling experience to the forefront. “I think that definitely it was more than one person, probably female, but the problem is how the hell did they get him up on the Cross willingly?”

  “So, you thought he went up there willingly, too, yes?” Ramesses nodded and wrote down some notes, “Now who did he trust deeply enough to switch for the scene?”

  Aris… a switch?

  I wasn’t willing to concede that point.

  But then again, I didn’t know the man from a can of paint, so what he did behind closed doors with the right person, anything could happen.

  It let me know that I still have a lot to learn about putting people in boxes within this lifestyle. Everything is very fluid, very flexible, even when it comes to the roles that people assume.

  “Okay, youngster, here’s an angle for you: let’s say that one of Aris’ slaves was disgruntled, decided that she no longer wanted to get with the program, happens all the time in the community, right?” Ramesses asked rhetorically at first. “So, you want to get revenge, how do you get your victim to cooperate with you until it’s too late?”

  “You find an accomplice that is willing and able to get Aris to switch,” I answered, understanding the deeper brainstorming that Ramesses was getting at. “Find a woman preferably that could top him, and then lower the boom when he’s vulnerable.”

  “Right, Dom, that is what we have to figure out, who is the woman that got this to come together,” he shot back. “That means we may need to squeeze peaches for more information before she cracks and tries to jet.”

  I nodded, “She seems to be really unraveling a little bit, definitely. I got in touch with the detectives that spoke with her, and they said there are inconsistencies in the story, which is leading them to believe that she knows more than she says she knows.”

  “One of those detectives wouldn’t be your old partner, would it?” he asked out of the blue, stroking his goatee.

  No need in denying it now.

  “Yes, Sir, she is on the case,” I answered. “There isn’t a conflict of interest there, Sir. She’s kept things

  strictly professional thus far.”

  Ramesses kept his stare long enough to make me wonder if that flimsy explanation would hold up or not. Frankly, my former captain wouldn’t have bought that BS in a million years.

  Finally, he said, “I trust your professional experience to not compromise yourself or her. I would say the same thing with the other cute ass detective that you’re working the more personal case that you’re trying to solve with Fulton. Which reminds me, where are we on that case?”

  “I found a hair at the hotel room, as well as the IDs that Tori and a couple of the girls were able to make on Sherrie before her murder,” I recounted. “I think we’re in the midst of a serial case, because a brand was on Sherrie and Sandra.”

  Ramesses raised an eyebrow, “Was she community affiliated?”

  “No, Sir, she wasn’t, but she was connected to me,” I explained to him, still trying to get over it myself, “She was a former fuck buddy in college, hadn’t seen her in years before earlier this week when I ID’ed her.”

  “This might complicate matters, Dom, you know that,” Ramesses didn’t seem too pleased about hearing that. “Okay, let’s concentrate on Sherrie’s murder. Were the girls able to spot the other person, whether it was male or female?”

  “No, Sir, the person was nondescript, unable to tell if they were male or female, except for the demeanor, but with the way that butch females act nowadays, we can’t rule anything out,” I replied again.

  “Any ideas on motive on Sherrie’s murder?” he inquired, almost as if he had an idea himself, “Do you think this person had an axe to grind with you?”

  “I’m a former detective for a major county police department in Atlanta, the line wraps around the corner, Sir,” I honestly shrugged my shoulders. It could be anyone; former perps that I put away back in the day, old boyfriends that never wanted me to marry Sherrie in the first place, and just as many old flames that were none too pleased that I married her.

  But for someone to kill her to get my attention, it seemed a little too much for me.

  But I didn’t possess the ability to really be objective at this point, which is why the next thing that Ramesses said was hard to swallow.

  “You might want to shake some skeleton bones out of your closet. Someone out there wants you to remember what you did to them.”

  He had a point, and there was no getting around that fact. I had done some dumb shit in college, I don’t deny that, but did I fuck somebody over bad enough to kill the woman who was once the love of my life?

  ~Ten~

  I really wasn’t sure if I needed to be at Sherrie’s funeral.

  To be honest, I really had second thoughts the entire way to Westview Cemetery.

  But I owed it to her.

  Ramesses and Neferterri were with me, I guessed they felt that I would need some buffers from Sherrie’s family.

  They were right.

  Ever since the divorce, the family was split between whether it was my fault or hers, and the seeing her in the casket didn’t help matters at all. Emotions were raw, and I half expected to encounter a few confrontations after her casket was laid to rest.

  Sherrie’s mother was the first to attack. “I blame you for my baby’s death, Dominic. She would still be here if you had been a man and done what was best for her.”

  “Sherrie chose her own path, Mrs. James. I did what I could, but she was her own woman.”

  That brought a slap from her.

  “You were selfish,” she continued. “She wouldn’t have needed to leave if you hadn’t gone gallivanting around with your deviant folk.”

  Ramesses spoke at that point. “Mrs. James, I understand your distress, but Dominic is not to
blame for this, ma’am. He and I are trying to find out who murdered your daughter.”

  I don’t know what made her stop in her tracks when he spoke, but she instantly calmed down. “Sir, I don’t know you, but I’m assuming that you are vouching for this poor excuse for a man. Are you in law enforcement as well?”

  “Yes, ma’am, Dom is my business partner,” he calmly answered. “We are putting our full resources on to help the police find your daughter’s murderer. You have my word.”

  “I trust your word, and I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?” Mrs. James replied.

  “My name is Kane, ma’am, and I happen to be one of those ‘deviant folk’ that you claim helped kill your daughter.”

  That brought a surprised look from her. I think she had something else in mind when she wanted to condemn me about the whole ‘deviant’ thing.

  “Well, Kane, I don’t much trust the cops, but I have a feeling that you might be using other resources that I might not want to know about. It will bring peace to me if you are able to keep your word. Please find my daughter’s killer.”

  Her other daughter walked her away from us, a scowl crossed her face as well. I wasn’t sure if I deserved the venom or not, but it didn’t make me feel any better.

  Neferterri placed a hand on my shoulder as I knelt down and kissed the casket as a final goodbye. “It wasn’t your fault, Dom. She chose her own path, you know this.”

  “Yeah, I know, Neferterri, but it still doesn’t ease the pain.”

  I stared at her picture for what seemed like hours.

  I should have protected her, I repeated in my head.

  But Neferterri was right; she chose her own path the minute she divorced me.

  As much as I understood that, she never deserved this fate. No one did, for that matter.

  But what I couldn’t figure out for the life of me was why she was murdered. The Roman numeral thing really had me confused. I couldn’t understand where that angle was coming from, and it was pissing me off with each passing minute. It was haunting me, and that’s when I realized that this might be something deeper than I wanted to admit.