by Paris Morgan
“We might catch a break on the individual shops, and he might have ordered from the same few.” I was relieved because I hated to do warrants. They were never my favorite part because they need technical details, and it wasn’t something I was great at. Which might be why mine didn’t get approved very often.
Once inside the car and Ryan was distracted, I mentioned something I didn’t want to say where there might be other listening, and he couldn’t get really upset about. “I also think most of these women were doing some type of good deeds. The psychic mentioned that this was a great evil meant to take the good away. What if each of these women were involved in something that affected others in a social way? Like they volunteered at the soup kitchen, or donated to those that were down on their luck. If each of these women were gone, then the good deeds they were doing would be taken away, and those that had been surviving because of their generosity would take a turn for the worse.”
“You really believe her, don’t you?” Ryan glanced over with a frown.
“Maybe not ‘believe,’ but if we follow her logic, it makes sense in a twisted way.”
“How on earth could our lady of the night have been a philanthropic person? What did her death do to affect others besides her own family, who might even be relieved that she wasn’t going to end up in more trouble than she was in before?” Ryan’s tone dripped with disbelief and cynicism.
“When I talked to those older men, they had nothing bad to say about her. I know they appreciated her looks. Being old men and all, they aren’t completely blind yet. They wouldn’t have been worried when they heard her scream or run to help her. You said that neighborhood is terrible, and you were surprised that I’d gotten any information from them. Maybe it’s because she meant more than your average hooker did.”
He shook his head. “Again, I can’t believe they sent me a dreamy cop, but you might have a point. You got more information about her with your news story cover than I could have gotten in multiple interviews. Much as I hate to do this, why don’t you go back over there this afternoon and see if you can find a reason that she was well loved, or at least liked for a hooker.”
The surprise must have shown on my face, because he got defensive. “I don’t believe in all this hoodoo about the cosmos, but it doesn’t mean that we can’t take what she said and work it to our advantage.”
“I’ll take it, and if it means that we catch a killer, then all the better. I think we should call her back in and have a chat to see what else she might know. She mentioned that she didn’t read palms, but that she advised financial people about their futures. Both can’t be right, so I want to see if we can find how she’s lying.”
“You’ve been playing me, having me think you believed her. Why haven’t we been questioning her?” Ryan’s outrage was only for show, but he played it well.
“She’s had a tail on her since we talked to her, and if something unusual had happened, you’d have already brought her in. But you can’t find anything, and it’s making you cranky.”
“If you keep that up, I might think you’re the psychic. Maybe they didn’t make a mistake with your promotion.”
All I could do was raise an eyebrow. Ryan was making me so tired. I had no idea why I’d been jealous earlier, because after only a short time, I pitied Shea for all the emotional rollercoasters Ryan went through in a short while.
This partnership might just keep me single for a while longer, although sex with Jerome was beckoning on the horizon, and it had been a really long time.
Chapter 8
It took me a little longer to find Joy’s apartment complex, but I sat there for just a minute watching the inhabitants as they interacted. The older guys sat in lawn chairs in the courtyard, commenting on all the children that weren’t really being watched by parents. A few doors were open, and a mom would stick her head out and tell them to quit screaming, which didn’t faze them in the least.
A gate blocked my way to the entrance of the courtyard, but I had to think back to earlier. I hadn’t remembered there being a gate I had to open to go upstairs.
Bert, the other guy from earlier, and two old guys were sitting around in sturdy chairs that didn’t seem to fit with the rest of the rundown appearance of the complex.
They noticed me when I pulled an extra chair up to their circle and sat down.
“Well, look here, Bert. The pretty news lady came back,” they guy chuckled. “Told you she was real nice.” He gestured to the others sitting there. “I didn’t get to introduce myself earlier. I’m Johnny. This here is George, and that old coot is Fred. You remember Bert.”
“I’m Leslie Boxe.” I held out my hand as I introduced myself.
“Nice to meet ya, but they was saying the news van never got here. Wasn’t Joy’s death enough to make the news?” Fred took my hand accusingly.
“Oh, I just said that I beat the camera vans. I’m not that kind of reporter. I don’t like being in front of cameras, and yes, Joy’s death deserves to make the news. I’ve got some questions that I couldn’t ask earlier, as I had to do some research. Would you mind answering a few more?” I smiled at each one of them, hoping they would take my excuses.
Bert rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “I guess it couldn’t hurt if it helps you catch this guy that killed her.”
“Did Joy do anything like volunteer at a soup kitchen or other social work?” I held a small notebook on my lap to write down their responses.
The four men looked at each other and seemed to have a silent conversation between them, before Fred answered slowly, “This won’t get anyone in trouble, will it?”
“What do you mean? Was she doing something illegal?”
I realized the question would make them stop talking, so I rephrased it. “Besides what she did for a living, was there something else that she was involved in that might have gotten her killed? I’m not looking to get anyone arrested. Joy’s dead, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re just reliable sources. See? I don’t even have your names written on here.” I pointed to the few notes that didn’t have anything to do with this case on it.
“Okay, then.” Fred nodded reluctantly. “She was our benefactress.”
“Fred thinks that just because he used to be an extra in a movie they filmed years ago, that he should use all these big words and talk down to the rest of us,” George spoke for the first time. “You’ll have to excuse him. Joy was one of the reasons that we’re out here watching the children.”
Keeping a straight face, I listened as George took over the conversation.
“Joy had a system going that she thought would benefit us all and make it a little easier to stay under the gangs and cop’s radars while keeping us alive.”
“She approached us retired or disabled older folks, and asked if we could help some of the moms who worked to watch their children. The moms would pay us in groceries, and that way they didn’t have to pay a day care. She bought some of the gates and had them installed so the kids could play in the yard,” Johnny chimed in. “So we aren’t really getting paid for what we do and don’t have to report it, but extra groceries are always welcome.”
“Why, she even talked to a few of the younger group and got them to help with the school agers, offering to pay them instead of having them sell drugs.” Bert blushed before he continued. “I know that she had a deal for protection with one of the gangs. She’d give them a certain amount of free hours of her intimate time a week if they would stay outside the complex.”
“I was under the impression that this neighborhood wasn’t such a great one to live in because of the gangs…” I paused. “I don’t mean anything against your home, but it’s not really a safe place to raise a family.”
They all started nodding in agreement. “You’re right. Before Joy moved in last year, this complex was horrible, but after she took over managing it, things turned around. Now, if you go over to the next complex, it’s exactly what you say—unsafe.”
“Hold on…she
was the manager of the apartments? Why did she live up here? Most managers live off-site, especially for a complex like this.”
“That’s what we always asked her, but she said that if you want to change the world, you have to start small and work your way up.” George turned to wipe a tear away.
“Just don’t report us. We don’t know what will happen now that she’s gone,” Johnny pleaded, his voice trembling.
Bert’s darker, wrinkled face grew grave. “The gang leaders will stay back for a while, and might even take money if we offered, but we’re all broke. When that killer took our Joy, they did it both literally and figuratively.”
“Now look who’s using big words,” George teased.
“I’m very sorry for your loss, and don’t worry, I won’t turn you in because you’re not doing anything wrong. If Joy was trading favors, then that would be on her and not you guys. But if I think of something that will keep the gangs away from all of you, I’ll let you know.”
I bid them all goodbye and drove my car away, trying not to cry. I knew that if I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop. Flora was right about the darkness filling the air; it was a depression that was growing rapidly.
***
Ignoring Ryan’s voice in my head, I drove over to the campus housing that Flora lived in to see what else I could learn from her.
She lived in a cute duplex, and was just walking up to her home as I pulled up.
“Flora,” I called out, getting her attention.
“Hi, Leslie. I’m not under arrest, am I?” She laughed as she continued on toward the house. “Would you like to come in?”
She didn’t know that by inviting me inside, anything I saw that was incriminating could be used against her, but that wasn’t my problem.
“Thank you. I’ve been bothered by this killer and the fact that he’s using a zodiac sign. If we could figure out why he’s doing this, it would make it much easier to find him.” I followed her into a brightly decorated room that smelled of incense.
“There’s not much I can tell you that I haven’t already, but I don’t think that’s why you’re really here, is it?” She pointed to an overstuffed chair that was empty.
I sighed. “You’re right. I’m conflicted. I just met someone and he seems really nice, but Ryan is someone that challenges me. He’s taken, though, and I don’t want to just be settling for second best. What makes it worse is that his fiancée is really nice.”
“I’m not hearing what the conflict is about. You have two guys to choose between, and you’re not sure where your heart is leading you?” she asked, giving me an appraising stare.
“It’s too early to have feelings, but don’t I want someone that challenges me? Although, since I met him, Jerome has been the most patient man I’ve ever met. All of this is starting to weigh on me. This is why I try not to date.” I groaned to myself, not really expecting her to answer.
“Each brings his own brand of personality to the table, and you’ll have to choose what you need the most. I’d wait to make any decisions until you’ve had sex. It can change the way you feel in a lot of ways. I think the way will be shown to you if you are patient. I know that it’s hard to do, and to hear everyone tell you the same thing over and over, but it’s the way the world works.”
“Is it too selfish to want the romance and the fireworks?” I held up two hands, weighing each thought on a different hand.
“I think you should give it a week before you make any decisions. Let me help you with this other problem, and it will clear your mind of all the other things that are distracting you. Murder is against what the universe is comfortable with, and so this man will be marked in his own way. It doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s mental or has a physical mark, but he could.”
“I’d take just one thing that could lead us toward him. We know some of the details, but there are still too many variables out there.”
“Between school and research, I’m afraid that I haven’t found anything that could help you so far.”
“You don’t have to make excuses, I understand. School comes first.”
“No, you don’t understand. I’ve been going to school, but this darkness and the visions are getting worse. I’m not sure that I can control these kind of karmic vibrations from this killer.”
“What do you mean? I’m not really acquainted with how that works.”
“Each time someone dies a violent death, the cosmos mourn for them. Revenge and retribution cannot be handled by someone close to them. This killer has a plan and a timetable. Each of his kills has been precise and thought out. The one victim that was alive might have been able to describe his face. You’re sure that it’s a male, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“This is a ritual to him, and that’s the reason things are done in the same manner over and over again. He’s got this down to an art and knows just how long he has before someone notices that the victims are dead. He’s very bold.”
“See, my partner mentioned that the other day. Why do you think he’s bold? Aren’t all hired killers?” I hadn’t thought of the possibility that he might have some characteristics that we could track easily.
“He walks boldly in the sun and doesn’t worry about the consequences. This is all new to me, and intertwined with what I’m studying—psychology. Before last month, I’d had strong feelings about things, but never like this. When someone would ask for advice, I could always tell what they needed to do.”
“You said that you’ve helped businessmen. What does that mean exactly?” I watched her curiously to see if she was as relaxed as she looked.
“When I started school, I was going for a business degree because that’s a stable thing to have. I interned with a few companies, and when I was in the break room, I’d overhear something and make a comment. It might not even be big or important, but the person would use what I’d said. The next thing I knew, everyone was coming to me for advice. It was driving me crazy because some of the things I saw weren’t good, but I couldn’t exactly tell them that it would be a horrible decision.” She shrugged, unapologetic.
“You know when you see someone, that they aren’t a good person, or they’re just saying they’re fine, but you can tell that something is wrong? I’ve had that my whole life, an intuition. Some people would say it’s from God, others would say it’s evil. I honestly didn’t know I was that different until I got to college a few years ago. We lived in a small town, and so I didn’t meet a lot of new people. When I came to college, I don’t think I realized that something was different until the second year. I was so overwhelmed with all the new people, ideas, and routine.
“Instead of hearing someone speak, I started to just know things about them. Nothing incredibly big or crazy, but enough to know that what I’d been feeling wasn’t normal.” She smiled. “I tested my feelings, or intuitions, a few times to see if they were right. Every time I was right.”
“Is there some way to focus your intuitions or turn them off?” I didn’t want to offend her.
“Not exactly. There are a few things I can do to keep evil from crossing my doorstep, but that’s really only the spirits, not actual people. I must be really naïve because I thought I was growing up, and that most people had this kind of foreknowledge. When I told a boyfriend that he needed to go home because his mother was dying, and he looked like I had grown a third head, that was when I knew I was really different. I planned to ask my mother about it, but every time I brought it up over the Christmas break, she changed the subject. It made me curious and I started studying.
“What I discovered was that those who have these kind of intuitions, or claim to be psychic, can be related to the Romani, or gypsy, as most people call them. I’ve been reading up on the subject and decided to change my major since I already read people really well. I can get in their heads without anyone questioning why I would know something like that.”
“That’s a positive position to take. I know that the pol
ice don’t look well on psychics or those who claim to be one.” I was impressed.
“If that’s the case, and I felt that from Detective Ryan certainly, what makes you so different?” She sat there, patiently waiting for an answer that I’m sure she already knew.
“Honestly, it was a gut feeling for me as well. I knew that you were telling the truth and genuinely wanted to help. So many times we overlook those who have the most information simply because they don’t fit the profile we’ve put together in our brains. I can’t say that I believe in listening to the universe, but there have been moments when I knew that if I went around a corner, something bad would happen. Ryan’s started calling me a dreamer because I keep referring back to you.”
“Oh boy. That’s probably going over really well, isn’t it?” She laughed at the picture it painted of my co-partner.
“I don’t want to offend you, but can you read people?” I blushed. “That wasn’t what I meant. Like, if you saw them in a lineup, or while they were being interviewed, could you get a feeling if they were guilty?”
“It’s not an exact science, and not something I’ve really practiced yet. If the murderer was in there, then definitely. If they were just guilty of a small crime, I’m not sure how it would work. You catch him, and I’ll do my best if you want me to come in.”
“I’m in Ryan’s district at the moment, so I’m just here on good behavior. I’ll see what I can do, but I would love to have lunch at some point as you learn more about this subject. I just find it fascinating.” I rose because I’d been gone longer than I’d planned, and I was supposed to go by the morgue with Ryan.
“That sounds amazing. I won’t have to hide who I am from you.”
“We could see who guesses the most information about someone and if they’re right. Cops develop what some call a sixth sense about people, and most of its just based on observation.”
