by BJ Bourg
I could feel Susan staring at the side of my face. She knew I’d learned something on my short trip out of the interview room, but she wasn’t sure what it was.
“I swear,” Nikia insisted. “I was home all night.”
“So, it wasn’t your fingerprint I lifted from the passenger’s side door handle of your girlfriend’s red car?”
He shifted in his chair and stared cautiously at me. I could tell questions were beginning to form in his mind. He wasn’t sure if I was bluffing or if I really had the evidence to link him to Ty, and I could tell he was trying to decide on the best course of action.
“I was home,” he said again, but with much less conviction.
“You know, Nikia,” I said slowly, leaning back in my chair, “I don’t think your girlfriend will appreciate you calling her a liar.”
“I didn’t call no one a liar.”
“So, was she telling the truth when she said you were with her on Friday night when she almost ran over Ty Richardson?” I leaned suddenly forward. “Was she telling the truth?”
“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was home Friday night, and I was all by myself.”
I shook my head. “Boy, you never learn, do you? You can’t get away with your sins, Nikia.”
“I’m not trying to get away with anything.”
I asked him to recount everything he did on Friday, beginning from when he woke up and continuing until he went to bed that night or the next morning. He scrunched up his face for a few long seconds and then began reciting his activities. They consisted of cooking a frozen pizza, watching television, using the bathroom twice, smoking a dozen cigarettes, and then going to bed.
“Then how’d your fingerprints get on Betty’s car?” I asked, dropping her name causally, like it had been mentioned a dozen times already.
“I…I don’t know who you’re talking about.” He scrunched up his face. “Who’s Betty?”
“Betty’s gonna be a pissed off woman when I tell her you’re pretending not to know her.” I shook my head. “Not a good move, Nikia—especially since we have physical evidence that you were in her car.”
“But I wasn’t.”
“Are you denying being in Betty’s car?”
“I don’t even know nobody named Betty.”
“You don’t know Betty Watts?” I asked, wanting to get a firm denial from him.
“Nope.”
I glanced at Susan and asked if she could retrieve one of Betty’s social media pages. She was more adept at such things and would be much quicker than I could ever be. I had never learned how to use those platforms. To me, they were a tremendous waste of time.
Once Susan had the picture of Betty up on her phone, she turned it so Nikia could see. He did a good job of acting like he’d never seen her before, and I was beginning to wonder if he actually believed his own lies.
“I’ve never seen her before in my life.” He glanced up, trying to appear curious. “Is this the Betty woman you’re asking about?”
“Have you ever been in this woman’s car before?” I asked.
“How could I be in her car if I don’t know her?”
“So, you don’t know this woman and you’ve never been in her car?”
“That’s right.”
“What would you say if I told you that your fingerprints were on the passenger’s side door handle of her car? And you know what car I’m talking about—it’s the red one.”
“I…um…I’d say that’s crazy.” He shook his head. “Like I said, I’ve never seen her before in my life.”
“Is that so?” I asked patiently. “Then how do you explain your fingerprints being on Betty Watts’ car and your DNA being on the extension cord that was used to tie up Ty’s hands and legs?”
He laughed nervously. “That’s impossible. I would never do anything to hurt Ty. He’s a nice fellow. I like him, so why would I want to hurt him? I’ve never tied up anyone in my life.”
“We can link you to the crime scene and I can place you in Betty Watts’ car,” I said, ignoring his denial. “Since we know for a fact you were in both places and you’re lying about being at either place, then I’ve got to believe you’re the killer. After all, why else would you lie about sleeping with someone when you’re single? You can’t get in trouble for having sex with a married woman. So why lie about it? It just doesn’t compute—unless you’re the killer.”
“Look, you’ve got to believe me—I don’t know anything about some extension cord being tied around Ty’s hands and legs, and I would never kill anyone.” He was desperate now. “I swear I didn’t do it!”
“Are we just supposed to ignore the evidence we’ve got against you?” I threw my hands up in the air. “And what exactly are you saying? Are you suggesting that someone planted the evidence? Why would someone try to frame you for a murder? What’s so special about Nikia Billiot that someone would somehow plant his fingerprints on a cheating wife’s car and deposit his DNA on a piece of evidence directly linked to a murder? Are we supposed to forget the evidence exists just because you say you didn’t do it?”
“I…I don’t know, but I know I didn’t do nothing to Ty.”
While he had denied hurting Ty, he hadn’t denied being there. If he was involved—and I believed he was—he might’ve been the least culpable of the suspects, and he might be willing to flip on his accomplice or accomplices.
CHAPTER 50
“Look, Nikia, this is a serious crime,” I said after questioning him for another twenty minutes or so and getting nothing but stubborn denials. “More than one person was murdered, which makes it a capital case. Ty was killed in a heinous, atrocious, and cruel manner, which qualifies you for the death penalty.”
“Qualifies me for the death penalty?” Nikia threw himself back in his chair. “Why me? I didn’t do that!”
“Nikia, you took off the man’s head,” I said quietly, lying about the condition of Ty’s body. “You tortured him while he was still alive and—”
“His head wasn’t cut off!” Nikia blurted, not recognizing the admission he’d just made. “And I swear I didn’t touch him! I would never do anything to hurt somebody like that. I wouldn’t even hurt an animal.”
“No, but you’re okay with beating women, right?” I asked, unable to resist myself. I leaned closer to him. “You might not have decapitated him, but you certainly tortured him. For that, you’re going to die by lethal injection—unless they bring back firing squads in the next fifteen to twenty years.”
“Please, you’ve got to believe me!” Nikia fell to his knees and clasped his hands in front of his face. I could barely see him on the floor because of the desk, but everyone in the building could probably hear his wailing. “I don’t want to die for this! I didn’t do nothing!”
“Then who did?”
“I…I don’t know. I already told you, I wasn’t involved.”
“Get up,” I said, rising from my chair. “I’ve heard enough lies from your filthy mouth. I’m locking you up and sending you to jail. By morning, you’ll be charged with the first degree murders of Carol and Ty Richardson, and I’m sure the district attorney will seek the death penalty.”
When he wouldn’t stand up, I moved around the desk and reached for his arm. As I looked down on him, something caught my eyes and I paused, a curious expression on my face.
“Well, look at this,” I said to Susan, indicating the laces on Nikia’s shoes. They were stained dark red in several spots. “How much do you want to bet that blood belongs to Ty Richardson?”
Nikia twisted around to see his shoes. His eyes widened. While he hadn’t believed me about his fingerprints and DNA, there was no denying the dried blood caked into the crevices of his shoe laces. This was something he couldn’t merely explain away.
“Look,” Nikia said in a pleading voice. “I’ll do anything! I’ll say anything you want me to say! Just please don’t arrest me for first degree murder.”
“I want the tru
th.”
“But I don’t know nothing. I didn’t do it!”
He was still kneeling on the floor, so I tugged on his arm to stand him up.
“I’m done listening to your lies,” I said. “If you don’t start telling the truth right this second, I’m shoving you in a cell—but without your shoes—and calling transport. After that, you can call this office all you want from the jail and say how you’re ready to talk, but I won’t be listening. As soon as you walk through that door, it’s over and you’ll be going down alone for this crime.”
“Alone?” He steadied himself on his feet. “But I wasn’t alone. It wasn’t even me who did that stuff to Ty.”
“Then who was it?”
He hesitated.
“I don’t have time for this shit, Nikia,” I said with a wave. “Come on—get your ass to the back of the building. We’re done here.”
“No, no, wait.” He licked his lips and took a breath. “If I give you a name, will you let me go?”
“You’ll have to give me more than a name—you’ll have to give me details about what happened.” I shook my head. “And even if you do, I won’t let you go. You’re still going to jail. Now, if you weren’t the one who actually killed and tortured Ty, we’ll arrest you as a principal to first degree murder, which is still deadly serious. If you weren’t there when Ty was killed, but you helped move his body, then you would be charged with accessory after the fact to first degree murder, which is less than principal, but it’s still very serious.”
“But what if I wasn’t there for any of it and I only heard about it?” Nikia was desperate. “Could I just be a snitch?”
“Don’t even think about lying to me—I don’t have time for that.” I indicated his shoes. “I’m going to confiscate those shoes and send them to the lab. If that blood matches Ty’s DNA and you maintain you weren’t there, then I’ll be left to believe you’re the mastermind behind it all.”
“But I wasn’t!” He dropped to the chair and hung his head. He started shaking uncontrollably. After a long moment of silence, he said, “I’ll tell you everything, but please don’t let them execute me.”
“I can’t promise you anything.” I stabbed my finger on the table. “Now sit down and start talking. If I sense that you’re trying to bullshit us, I’m dragging you to the back and locking you up. I don’t have time for games.”
“Can you talk to the district attorney first and make sure they won’t try to get me the death penalty? I heard that people can make deals with them.” He fumbled for the words. “Like, I can testify against somebody and they’ll give me immunization.”
“Do you mean immunity?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, that.”
“No, the district attorney’s office doesn’t handle initial investigations and I don’t make deals with suspects.” I folded my arms in front of my chest and stared down at him. “Now, what’s it gonna be? Are you gonna tell the truth for the sake of justice—and for Ty Richardson—or will you remain silent? Those are your only two choices right now.”
“Okay,” he said after another long pause. “I’ll tell you what happened.”
CHAPTER 51
As Nikia Billiot began to tell us what happened to Ty and his mom, Susan and I listened intently, not taking our eyes off of him. As for Nikia, he didn’t even look up at first.
“I was home Saturday night when my best friend came over. He was mad about something, but he didn’t say what it was. He just told me he needed my help and he told me to get in his truck.”
Nikia paused to take a quivering breath. As for Susan and me, we were sitting on the edges of our chairs, hanging on his every word.
“We drove to the street on the other side of where Ty lives. I’m not sure what they call it. But we snuck into Ty’s back yard and were walking to his camper when some headlights came down the street. We ran to the back of the camper and dropped to the ground. We couldn’t see who it was, but we heard somebody knock on the door and say they had a delivery for Ty Richardson. They didn’t wait for Ty to answer. They just left it on the steps.”
When Nikia stopped talking, I asked how he knew they left it on the steps.
“We could hear the person and we could see part of them from under the camper. They put a cardboard box on the steps and then walked away. A little bit later, we heard the front door open and then it slammed shut. Ty started talking to himself and we could hear him walking around his camper. It sounded like he was arguing with himself. And then the door opened again and he started screaming at someone to come and get him. I thought he was talking to us, but there was no way he knew we were there. We saw his arm grab the pizza box and we heard him slam something down in the camper. That’s when he started talking to the pizza.” He shook his head. “It was just so crazy. I didn’t know why we were there. My buddy never told me. He just looked mad and said he had to handle some business. If I would’ve known what he had planned for Ty…”
Nikia’s voice trailed off and he began sobbing. I didn’t feel one bit sorry for him. He was crying because of his own plight and not because of what had happened to Ty—of this I was certain.
“Okay, Nikia, keep going,” I finally said. “Tell us what happened next.”
“Well, um, after a while of listening to Ty arguing with himself, I knew whatever we were doing wasn’t right, so I told my buddy I was leaving. We argued quietly for a while and then he grabbed me by the throat and told me to shut my mouth and stay put. Before I could even say anything, we heard Ty run out the camper. I think he fell, because we heard something like a body hitting the pavement and then we saw him running toward the back of the house.”
Nikia shuddered. “My buddy started chasing Ty. I ran after my buddy to stop him, but he chased Ty into the shed before I could catch him. When I went in the shed, I saw Ty grab a balled-up extension cord and swing it at my buddy. He jerked the cord away from Ty and punched him one time in the face. Ty just dropped. He was knocked out cold.”
Nikia paused to take a breath. It was a haggard one, and it appeared filled with regret. He sat quiet.
“Nikia, you need to tell us everything that happened,” I said. “We need to understand who’s responsible for what happened out there.”
“Well, everything just happened so fast, you know?” He shifted in his seat. “I was trying to grab my buddy and tell him to leave. It was kinda dark in the shed and I couldn’t really see everything that was happening. Well, somebody eventually started screaming at me and hitting me from behind. I was scared and thought maybe Ty had reinforcements. I just threw my arm back, you know? It was natural. Um, that’s when I turned around and saw an old lady on the ground. She…she wasn’t moving. I guess she lost her balance and fell when she was hitting me.”
Or you knocked her down and killed her when you threw your arm back, I thought, but refrained from saying it.
“Go on,” I coaxed. “What happened to Mrs. Richardson?”
“I…um, it looked like she hit her head when she fell. Her body did a weird shaking thing and it scared me really bad. I wanted to leave, but my buddy told me to help him tie up Ty’s hands and legs with the extension cord.” He shook his head. “I just wanted to leave, but he wouldn’t let me. He told me I killed Ty’s mom and that there was no going back now. He said I was a part of it and I had to help him finish the job.”
“Did he ever say what the job was?” I asked when Nikia stopped talking to cry some more. I wanted to get him focused on his statement and not on his plight. If he continued feeling sorry for himself, he might break down completely and not be able to talk at all.
He shook his head. “No, but he made me help him drag Ty out of the shed and down the side street. We stayed in the grass and passed under some trees until we reached the truck. I helped him lift Ty into the bed of his truck, but I didn’t know what he was about to do.”
“Was Ty alert at this time?”
“Oh, yeah, he woke up while we were still in the
shed. My buddy took this Velcro strap from the extension cord and used it to gag Ty so he couldn’t yell for help.” He frowned deeply. “Even if the strap wasn’t around his mouth, I don’t think Ty would’ve said anything. He just stared at us with his eyes wide open. He looked confused and scared. It…it was terrifying. I can still see the look on his face every time I close my eyes.”
Right, but you didn’t care enough to stop your friend from murdering him, did you?
I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “Where’d y’all take him?”
“I didn’t take him anywhere,” Nikia said with a shake of the head. “My buddy did the driving. I didn’t want to go along, but he made me. He drove to the street in back of town and parked in the grass. He made me help him carry Ty into the woods. We kept walking until we came to an open field in the trees and that’s…that’s where he began beating up Ty. He pulled down Ty’s pants and started hitting him everywhere. I asked him to stop, but he wouldn’t. He pulled out a knife and…”
Nikia apparently couldn’t bring himself to say it.
“He pulled a Lorena Bobbitt on Ty,” I said grimly, the anger starting to burn to the surface. “And you stood idly by and watched—or you helped.” I glared at him. “Did you help?”
“No!” He threw his arms up in a defensive posture. “I swear, I didn’t do nothing except help him carry Ty to the field. My buddy did everything.”
“You could’ve done something to save Ty,” I said accusingly, “but you didn’t. Why didn’t you stop your friend? Why didn’t you run away and get help?”
“I…I was scared.” He lowered his arms and his shoulders drooped almost to his waist. “I knew I hurt his mom and I knew I’d be in trouble if I went to the police, so I just…I mean, I guess that’s why I didn’t say nothing.”
“What happened next?”
“He…he hit Ty over the head with this short wooden bat that has a leather strap tied to the handle.” Nikia snapped his fingers. “He called it a tire something or other—said he got it from his dad, who used to be a truck driver.”
