by M. Z. Kelly
“That’s a good thing.” He didn’t respond. “What’s the matter?”
He tugged on his shirtsleeves, adjusted his coat. “After I dropped Irma off with her mother, I went to Wilma’s house.”
“No wonder you’re exhausted.”
He shook his head. “I followed her.”
“Don’t tell me you stalked her all night.”
“She went to a house over in the valley. Didn’t leave until early this morning.” Charlie brushed a hand through his thinning hair, gulped in some air. “She’s got another guy, Kate.”
“How do you know that for sure? Maybe she was staying with a friend?”
“Yeah, a friend with benefits.” He shook his head. “I think we’re history. It’s time that I moved on.”
“I think you need to talk to her before making any final decisions.” I saw that Pearl was in the hallway, ready to go. “In the meantime, go home and get some sleep. Maybe things will look different to you tomorrow.”
***
As Pearl and I drove through the Rose’s neighborhood, I mentioned Charlie’s relationship issues. “I think he’s headed for another heart attack if he doesn’t get a grip.”
“I’ve seen it happen to a lot of guys in the department,” Pearl said, in that easy, comfortable manner he had. “The last few years on the job can be the hardest on both the officer and the family. I’ll have a talk with him.”
“Thanks, Pearl. Since I’m a woman there’s only so much I can do for him.”
After we stopped in front of the Rose’s house, we took a moment in the car and made some decisions about how to handle the discussion before going to the door. We left Bernie in the car and, after introducing Pearl, the Roses showed us into their family room. We accepted an offer of lemonade from Flo. After the refreshments arrived I asked the Roses about their son.
“Bix is at the school doing workouts,” Al said. “I think in some ways he’s trying to make up for what happened to Jezzie.” He glanced over at his wife then back to us, a weak smile on his fleshy face. “He does his best but our daughter had most of the athletic talent in the family.”
I set my glass on the table, brushed my damp hands against my pants and said, “As I mentioned when I called, we’ve made an arrest in Jezzie’s case. Her trainer, Shane Mumford, had a gun in his locker at the university. It’s been matched for the weapon that killed her.”
Jezzie’s father nodded, his expression not changing much. His wife, on the other hand, had tears on her cheeks. “Did he say why he did it?” Flo asked, choking on the words.
I shook my head. “He’s not talking. He has a lawyer. Maybe something will come out in the trial.” She found a tissue and blotted her eyes.
I looked at Pearl and saw the small, almost imperceptible nod of his head. Having a black man with me at a time like this, especially someone older, was an asset. We decided beforehand that we’d tread very delicately around the next issue.
“There’s something else we need to ask you about,” Pearl said softly. He waited a moment until Flo regained some composure.
“What is it?” Flo finally said.
Pearl glanced in my direction, signaling for me to proceed as we’d planned. I took a breath and said, “We’ve heard some rumors, nothing that we’ve been able to confirm, that…” I glanced over at Pearl, back at the Roses. “Is it possible that Jezzie might have been pregnant and…lost the…had a miscarriage at one time?”
“What?” Jezzie’s father said. “That can’t be.” He moved closer to his wife’s side, trying to comfort her. Flo’s tears came again, this time much harder.
I glanced at Pearl as he took over. “I know this is difficult for you both and we don’t want to make it harder than it already is. But you need to know there’s going to be an article in the paper tomorrow. They’re going to say that Shane Mumford’s been charged with the murder, but they’re also…”
“No…no…God no,” Flo said, the reality of what I’d said a moment ago apparently now registering. “A baby…” Her words dissolved into a mournful cry that sounded like it came from the very center of her soul.”
I came over to her side, took her hand. “I’m so sorry.” I held her as she sobbed, feeling her anguish. I looked over at her husband. He had tears in his own eyes.
I waited a few moments, lowering my voice and asking both of them, “Jezzie…did she ever say anything to either of you about this?”
They both shook their heads. I’d had the impression that Al was the rock of the family, but this news seemed to finally push the rock down the hill. The big man’s tears came as freely as his wife’s, something that tore at my heart.
“Who?” Al finally asked me when he regained some composure. “The father?” he choked.
“We don’t know. According to Chucky Wilson, Jezzie’s agent, Shane Mumford was rumored to be the father. But when we asked Mumford about it he denied it.”
“Mumford,” Al said, blotting his tears. He cleared his throat. “I had a feeling that son of a bitch was taking advantage of Jez…” He shook his head, found a tissue and blew his nose. “I should have never trusted the asshole.”
I regarded his sad eyes for a moment. “Mumford admitted going out with Jezzie a few times, but as I said before, he denied being the father.”
“When did this happen?” Flo asked, finding her voice again. “The pregnancy?”
“We think it would have been sometime in the weeks just before she died.” I let what I’d said sit there for a moment, listening to her muffled cries again.
After a lengthy pause, I asked, “Can either of you think of anyone else who might have been…involved with Jezzie?”
They shook their heads. I glanced at Pearl as he took over again. “I know that you’ve both been incredibly strong through everything that’s happened, but you’re going to need to find that strength again. The papers and the media…let’s just say that they’re going to be all over this, probably at your door asking for interviews.”
After more tears and a discussion of what was likely to follow, the Roses made a decision to stay with Flo’s sister for a few days. It was a good call. The media would be in a feeding frenzy with the arrest and news about the pregnancy.
“I’d also take Bix with you, if you can,” I said before leaving. “I’m sure the press will be after anyone who might give them a statement about what’s happened.”
Al nodded in a solemn way. “We’ll take care of the boy.”
When we were back in the car I took a moment, nuzzling Bernie and brushing my hand through his fur. I breathed heavily, trying to compose myself. I thought about the Roses, first losing a daughter, and then getting the news there was a grandchild that would never be.
As I started the car, I turned to Pearl and said, “Sometimes I’m glad I’m not a parent.”
He smiled in his sweet way, exposing the gap between his teeth. “Let me tell you about my daughter, sometime.”
I didn’t ask him what he meant. Instead, I held back my tears. There was so much sorrow in the world I knew that if what Pearl had to tell me tore away at what was left of my heart, it might simply burst and explode in my chest.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Hotel Zen on Santa Monica Boulevard in Hollywood was a trendy upscale high rise establishment with a reputation for an excellent onsite restaurant and grounds that were a peaceful retreat from the noisy congestion of the city.
Pearl and I met up with the brothers on the hotel’s penthouse floor, where some firemen had ladders up against a platform holding a water tank. A pump was running, draining water from a cistern.
“The water tasted strange,” I heard a man telling Eric Glade as Pearl and I walked over to them. “I thought maybe it was just rusted pipes. Do you think I’ve been poisoned?”
“No, it’s nothing like that,” Glade said. “It’s just…” He glanced over at Pearl and me, then turned back to the man. “We found a girl’s body in the water tank.”
“What
?” The man, who I assumed was a hotel guest, spat on the ground. “I drank water contaminated by a dead body?”
Glade nodded. “Yes, sir. I’m afraid that’s the way it looks.”
The guest walked away, saying something about seeing a doctor and then his lawyer.
Glade turned to me and Pearl. “Our vic looks to be about thirty, but it’s hard to say for sure. There’s lots of decomp. She’s probably been in the tank for a while.” His boyish faced twisted up like a child before taking his medicine. “The guests drank the water.”
“And the water tank services all the hotel guests?” I asked.
Gooch had come over and they nodded in unison. The older brother said, “The guests were brushing their teeth with the decomp water. Somebody complained and a maintenance man found the problem.”
“Any ID on the girl?” Pearl asked.
After head shakes, I turned away, grimacing at the thought of being a guest in the hotel. I’d seen my share of dirty rooms and unpleasant conditions, but nothing like this. It wasn’t going to do anything for the upscale establishment’s ratings.
As the crews continued to pump water so they could cut away the tank for the coroner to have access to the body, I spent some time talking to Pearl about the Jezzie Rose case.
“I’ve got a feeling there’s something we’re missing. No one I talk to thinks that Mumford had it in him to kill Jezzie.”
“Could be a set up,” Pearl suggested. “Somebody knew that he and Jezzie were involved, planted the murder weapon in his locker.”
“The problem is no one seems to have a solid motive for the crime, including the guy sitting in jail. If Jezzie was pregnant by Mumford and miscarried, then why would he kill her?”
“Jealousy, maybe. Could be that she was still involved with Ralston and Mumford knew about it, thought Barry was the father.”
“Maybe, or it could also have gone the other way. Barry did the killing out of jealousy, despite his denial to Latisha Hill. It could be that he put a hit out on her as Wilson suggested.”
“Wasn’t there a report of another guy hanging around Jezzie’s practices?” Pearl asked.
“A big guy with a ponytail is all we know.”
“We need to nail that down.”
I nodded and waved to Brie Henner who had arrived at the scene. Brie and I were friends, going back to when she started at the coroner’s office a few months back. I walked over to her, exchanged pleasantries, and went over what we knew about our victim and how her body was discovered in the water tank.
“Remind me to bring bottled water next time I stay in a hotel,” Brie said, brushing her long black hair out of her eyes. My friend was in her early thirties; a tall, black woman who turned heads wherever she went. I saw the brothers eyeing her as we spoke.
“How are things with the family?” I asked, thinking about her firefighter husband, Joe, and their six year-old daughter, Lily.
“They’re good,” she said, holding on my eyes for a moment too long. She then motioned to the water tank that had now been cut open. “Let me take a look over here. We can talk some more when I’m finished.”
Brie spent the next couple of hours, along with the SID techies, examining and then removing the victim’s body for transport. I spent the time with Pearl and the brothers questioning hotel guests and management about the crime. No one had a clue about the girl’s identity or how she had gotten inside the cistern. We obtained copies of the guest list for the past month and employee logs before I met up with Brie and the others.
“No ID on the body,” Brie began. “The victim is probably in her late twenties. She has some deep ligature marks on her neck, so we’re looking at strangulation, possibly by use of a rope or a cord, but nothing was recovered from inside the tank. It also looks like she was the victim of a sexual assault but there’s a lot of decomposition—probably been in the water for a couple of weeks. We’ll run all the usual tests, of course.” She smiled at me. “Sorry, maybe I’ll have more when I get her back to the shop.”
After the others drifted away, I helped Brie put a few supplies back in her bags. We then took a moment and walked along the upper deck of the hotel that offered an impressive view of the city.
“I heard there was an arrest in the Rose case,” Brie said. We paused, looking over the railing at the traffic below.
“We got a ballistics match on a gun found in her trainer’s locker. His name is Shane Mumford and it looks like he’ll go down for it unless…”
“You’re not convinced.”
I gazed at the city, then back at her. “Shane and Jezzie had a relationship. They dated a few times and he became her trainer. According to Jezzie’s former boyfriend, she became pregnant but miscarried. Mumford denies having a sexual relationship with her. We don’t have a solid motive for the crime.” I looked out over the cool, foggy skyline of Hollywood again. A couple of seagulls were drifting on a current of air in the distance. “I had to tell her parents about the pregnancy and miscarriage this morning.” I heaved a sigh, looked back at her. “It was tough. They had no idea.”
“I’m sorry.” Brie came close and hugged me. “Did I ever mention that sometimes our jobs really suck?”
I laughed. “Maybe once or twice.” I held her eyes. “So how are things really going with you?”
“Guess I’m pretty easy to read.” Her smile slipped away. She looked back out over the city. “Things are not so good.” She turned back to me. “I think Joe might be having an affair.”
I felt something well up inside me. Brie and her husband had always seemed like the perfect couple, but I also knew there was no such thing. I hugged her. “I’m so sorry.” I waited, giving her a moment to find some composure.
“I’ve suspected something’s been going on for a while,” Brie finally said, her eyes taking on a sheen. “I think maybe it’s a former girlfriend. I’m going to confront him tonight.”
I touched her arm. “Is there anything I can do?”
She leaned into me, breathed. “Let’s talk tomorrow. I should have some results on the victim for you and I’ll let you know how things go with Joe.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, struggling for control. “You and Mack? How are…”
“Things aren’t,” I said and then explained the sorry tale of how everything had unraveled. “To tell you the truth, sometimes I think I’m just meant to be alone.”
Brie hugged me and then wiped the tears from her eyes. “As long as I’m your friend, you’ll never be alone.”
CHAPTER EIGHTTEEN
The next morning Charlie and I drove to Lynnwood to do the death notification on our water tank victim. Gooch and Glade had found a part-time clerk at Hotel Zen who remembered that a girl had done some catering work for a party there and had gone missing.
After a check with Moonlight Delights they were able to determine that Juanita Ramirez had assisted with a food delivery at the hotel almost three weeks earlier before she disappeared. The brothers had then gotten a positive match on fingerprints from a serving cart that had been in storage since the food delivery. The prints had been in the system since Juanita had done some volunteer work at a local school.
As my partner drove, I quoted from Haley Tristan’s front page article in the Herald-Press, using adjectives usually reserved for Lieutenant Edna. “While Chief East has attempted to usher in a new era of openness and cooperation, the Rose case demonstrates the department still has a long way to go.”
I wadded the paper up, turned to Charlie. “She goes on about how the original case relied on shoddy fucking investigative practices and circumstantial evidence.”
“That would be Jessica’s work,” Charlie said.
“Yes, but she’s making it sound like we messed up the case instead of us trying to clean it up.”
I picked up the paper again. “She talks about the pregnancy information being withheld by me, that naming Barry Ralston as the suspect was a rush to judgment, and that the community has been let down by the depart
ment.”
This time I ripped up the paper and tossed it into the backseat next to Bernie. “She even subtly insinuates that race had something to do with originally naming Ralston as a suspect.” I huffed out a breath and honored Edna again. “Fuck.”
“The case was a no-winner for us from the start, Kate. We’re just lucky the shit storm didn’t completely blow up in our faces.”
“Speak for yourself,” I said, thinking about how I’d spent the last several days dealing with Tristan and Media Relations, fending off their accusations and interference, only to have the reporter do a hatchet job on me in the press. The only good to come from Mumford’s arrest was that I no longer had to deal with Tristan on a daily basis.
I looked back over at Charlie. “I’ve decided that reporters are one wrung above lawyers in hell’s basement.”
“Lotta hot shit down there.”
I wasn’t finished spewing about the article. “Tristan speculates that Mumford was the father of Jezzie’s baby and the killing was an act of domestic violence.”
“It’s speculation but it might have gone that way.”
“Mumford’s a player, not the violent type, and he denied being the father.”
I opened the window a few inches, letting the foggy morning air swirl into the car. Bernie came up from the backseat and sniffed the exotic scents of Lynnwood. “It could be that Ralston put the hit out on Jezzie due to jealousy over her relationship with Mumford and then set him up to take the fall.” I patted a hand over my hair extensions. “I’m not sure we’ve got the right guy in custody.”
“Mumford’s got a big problem, called a murder weapon. It might not have his prints on it but it was found in his locker with one bullet fired.”
“According to Brian Hamlin, the yoga instructor, Mumford hadn’t been around his classes for a while. It’s possible the gun was there for some time and he just never checked the locker.”
“If Mumford isn’t good for this, the press is gonna eat us alive.”
I glanced over at Charlie. It looked like he’d finally gotten some sleep and changed his clothes. “Maybe you’ve forgotten. Over the last few days I’ve been on Hannibal Lechter’s menu and grilled over hot coals by both Tristan and the department.” I closed the window. Bernie took a seat again. “I’m going to take a second look at everything. I’ve got to be sure.”
