by Jim Riley
Tuesday
Baton Rouge
The investigator drove to the Tiger Eye offices. Donna greeted her with a huge grin.
"Miss Niki, you've got everybody talking around here. I mean, all the guys are whispering in the halls to each other. They're all shook up."
Niki sat in a chair in the reception area. "You didn't hear any of those whispers, did you?"
The perky blonde laughed. "They are all still ignoring me, except for Howard. I don't know what you told him, but he's been treating me like dirt."
"What do you mean?"
"Like this morning. He rang me at my desk and told me to get him a cup of coffee. I took it to his office and handed it to him. He poured it on the plant in his office and asked me if I poisoned it. Then he called me a bunch of names. I didn't say anything, just walked out of his office."
"What are the other guys in the office saying? Have they named any names?"
Donna answered. "Almost everybody thinks Howard did it. A couple think Mr. Johnson killed Mr. Wilson, so he can be with Mrs. Wilson. But most of them are blaming Howard."
"Did Sheila Wilson come to clean out her husband's office?"
Donna arched her eyebrows. "She came back, but she didn't take anything from his office."
"What did she do?"
"She just sat in Mr. Wilson's office for a long time. Then she went into Mr. Johnson's office, and stayed in there for more than an hour. When she came out, I could tell she had been crying. I mean, it was obvious. I don't know what they talked about, but whatever he said, it upset her."
"Did she talk to you before she left?"
"She told me she may be spending a lot more time in the office now that she is a partner. Then she told me to have the office changed, to look more like it was for her than for her husband."
"What did she mean by that?"
"I'm not sure. As far as I know, she doesn't know anything about managing money. She's not licensed and she can't talk to the clients until she passes at least the series 7 test. That's the one you’ve got to pass to represent another person in financial matters. I thought about studying for it."
"You decided not to?" Niki asked.
"I want to be in investigator like you. That'll be a lot more fun."
Niki thought about her experience in Scotlandville only moments before and wondered if Donna with think the situation was exciting or terrifying.
"Not every day is a walk through a rose garden. Some days we get a lot more thorns than flowers. You need to consider that before you make a career decision."
"Miss Niki, this is boring. Would you want to sit behind a desk all day, and the only excitement in your life was listening to conceited clients complaining because the company wasn't making enough money? Besides that, this isn't exactly a melting pot or diversity. I don't see a lot of women when I walk down the hall."
"At least you have dibs on the lady’s room when you need it. They've all got to share theirs."
"But I want more from life than having a semiprivate bathroom. I want to help people solve problems like you do."
Niki laughed.
"A lot of my job is boring. When I sit all night watching someone's house and nothing happens, I wonder if I'm in the right business."
"But you get to catch guys that steal their kids and find kids that run away for the parents. That makes up for a lot of boring nights."
"Sometimes, but if you were with me this morning, you might change your mind."
"Why?" Donna asked.
"Somebody took a shot at me while I was eating a poboy. I was almost killed."
"Oh, my God," Donna put her hand to her mouth. "Did they catch him?"
"He or she got away. Were all of your guys here at the office between eleven and twelve?"
"Most of them were out except Danny. Mr. Johnson left right after Mrs. Wilson left. That was about ten. Right after that, Howard and Sam snuck out for a long lunch. Both of them got back a little after one. Dale never came in. The weather is too nice for him to show up at the office."
"That at least eliminates Danny. He couldn't have shot at me if he was here. I can take him off of the list."
Donna wrinkled her face. "How do you know the shooting was related to this case? Somebody from one of your other cases might have done it."
Niki shook her head.
"This is the only murder case I'm working. At least it's the only one that I'm sure is a murder case, anyhow. To be honest, I assume I made somebody nervous about Scott Wilson, and whoever it is wants me to quit asking questions."
"It doesn't look like it worked. You're still asking them."
Niki sighed.
"And I will keep asking them, but I'm going home, lock my door, and take a long hot shower. Then I'm getting a Dr Pepper and some cheese and crackers, sit on my balcony, and watch the world go by."
Tuesday Night
Baton Rouge
The killer watched the target get out of the car and enter the residence. The target locked the door, but the killer wasn't worried. Hours earlier, the murderer jimmied open a window to allow later entrance.
Four hours passed before all lights went out in the residence. Two more hours passed before the killer climbed through the window. The intruder took off the hard-heeled shoes and crept down the hallway in stocking feet. A gloved hand opened the bedroom door slowly and quietly. The other hand gripped a pair of sharp scissors.
The intruder stood silently, watching the sleeping figure in the bed only feet away. Soft snores penetrated the quietness of the small room. Three quick steps brought the killer standing above the prone sleeper.
The scissors plunged into the chest of Howard Jenkins. Will they start, the stockbroker screamed. He clutched at the object buried deep within his body cavity. His eyes focused briefly on the person standing over him.
"Why—? What—?" Those were the last words uttered by Howard Jenkins this side of heaven or hell.
The killer smiled.
He said nothing to the dead man. Blood streamed from Jenkins mouth. His eyes fluttered and closed for the last time.
The killer pulled the covers over Jenkins’s lifeless body. The scissors, still protruding from the former stockbroker's chest, made scene look like a pup tent. The intruder crept back down the hall, though silence was no longer required. The only other occupant of the small residence could no longer hear the footsteps.
Wednesday Morning
Baton Rouge
Niki sipped the last bit of the strong Community Coffee when her cell rang.
"Miss Niki."
The investigator immediately recognized the voice of Donna Cross.
"Hey, Donna. You're up bright and early this morning. Are you okay?"
"No, Ma'am." Stress and panic filled Donna's voice.
"What's wrong? Is it Blake again?"
"I'm in jail," Donna responded. "Can you help me, please?"
"Whoa. Backup. Tell me what's going on," Niki sat her empty cup on the table beside the chair. She was now fully alert.
"Miss Niki, they think I killed Howard Jenkins."
"He's dead?"
"Somebody killed him last night. They used the scissors they took from my desk. My fingerprints are all over them. I mean, why wouldn't they be? I use them all the time."
"What time is your bail hearing?"
"I don't know. This is the only phone call they said I could make. I don't know any lawyers, and I couldn't afford one, anyway. Can you help me?"
"I'll call my attorney, and he will come down there to see you. I don't know if he has handled a murder case before, but he will know somebody that has."
Donna sobbed. "I want to get out of this place. You wouldn't believe the kind of people they stuck me with in here."
Niki reassured the young lady.
"I’ve been there to visit my clients. I know it's not comfortable, but most of the women just want to get bonded and get out. They don't want to do anything that will keep them in there any longer than t
hey have to be."
"I'm scared, Miss Niki."
"I'll get in touch with my attorney as soon as we hang up. Stay tough. But I have to warn you. Bail can be tricky in a murder case."
More crying on the other end of the call.
"It's not just one case. They said that charging me with Mr. Wilson’s murder too. They said my prints were all over the letter opener. I tried to explain to them, but they wouldn't listen."
"Two charges. That will make it a lot tougher, but if we can do anything for you, we will."
"Please hurry. I'm scared."
"Hang in there. I know it's tough, but you've got to hang in there."
Niki left the townhouse and walked to her SUV. She was surprised to see three young black boys standing by her door. She stopped about ten feet from the vehicle.
"Can I help you?" She asked with a tinge of surprise in her voice. Apprehension forced her muscles to contract, making her movements more jerky than fluid.
The oldest of the boys, not more than sixteen, stepped forward.
"Mr. Jess tole us to come by."
"Well, you're here. Now what?" Niki's confidence grew.
The boy took another step forward. "He say he don't like you buttin in on his own business. He say you got to be taught a lesson."
Niki smiled. “And he sent you three to give me this lesson. I don't think so.”
The youth reached behind his back and pulled out an eight inch straight blade, Niki flinched as the glint from the morning sun reflected off the steel surface. The black boy grinned and looked over his shoulder at his friends.
"See. I tole you I’s gonna chop this cracker up like a paper shredder. I ain’t gonna need no help with this. Ya’ll watch how I does it."
When the young man turned back to Niki, her foot caught him right under his chin. He staggered back, but managed to hold onto the weapon. Niki chopped down his arm with a powerful blow. The knife clattered on the parking lot pavement.
The boy regained his balance and looked sadly down at the fallen blade. Then he let out a terrible howl and charged the young investigator.
Niki easily sidestepped the clumsy attempt and pushed the boy in his back when he went past her. The muscular kid hit the pavement with a thud. Niki turned and kicked him in the ribs before he could get up. The snap of two curved bones in his body sounded like the breaking of good-sized tree limbs.
The investigator was hit with the full force of a hundred thirty pounds that appeared to be the second oldest boy. Surprised by the impact, Niki stumbled over the boy on the ground, and fell on her face. She rolled over as the second young man tried to kick her. The strawberry blonde grabbed his legs and twisted them. The boy fell close to her side, and Niki delivered an elbow to his nose. Blood spurted in gusts all over his clothes. She leapt to her feet and kicked the second boy in the temple. The blow stunned the kid, and he rolled over.
Then Niki turned her attention to the third boy. He could not have been more than eleven years old. He was holding a rusty pocketknife in a shaky hand. Fear shot out of his eyes even as they darted from Niki to his fallen friends. He tried to move forward toward Niki, but his feet failed him.
Niki took a step closer to the trembling lad.
"You really don't want to do that. You don't have a chance."
The boy tried to be strong. "I—I gotta—Mr. Jess. He make me."
"Is Mr. Jesse going to bury you? Will he say a few words over your grave?"
"I—I ain't scared. You don't scare me."
Niki nodded and took a step closer. "I'm not trying to scare you. I'm trying to save your life. You need to go back home and get away from Mr. Jesse. There is no future in doing his dirty work for him while he is sitting back there safe and sound. You're taking all the risks."
Niki jumped forward and grabbed the knife out of the youngster’s hand. He stared at her for a brief minute, then turned and raced away. Niki smiled as he faded from her sight.
She turned to the two boys still writhing and groaning on the pavement. She thought of calling the police, but determined the two boys said already received enough punishment for their bad decisions. She hoped they learn a lasting lesson, but doubted it. She got into her SUV and drove to the parish police station.
Wednesday
City Parish jail
"I'm so scared." Donna had streaks running down her face.
"I don't blame you. This is Andrew Farrell. He's one of the best attorneys in Baton Rouge. He has agreed to represent you."
The gray-haired, distinguished gentleman stretched out a hand. Donna grabbed it with both of hers.
"Mr. Farrell, can you get me out of this place?"
"Miss Cross, I spoke with the district attorney on my way over here. This is a serious matter."
Donna took her hand back. "I know it's serious. That's why I called Miss Niki and my name is Donna. Nobody calls me Miss Cross."
The attorney pulled out a briefcase and laid it on the table. He took a blank legal pad from it and put on his reading glasses.
"Tell me what happened."
Donna trembled. "I don't know. I just woke up when they banged on my door. When I answered it, two police officers stood there. They handcuffed me and read me my Miranda rights. Then they told me I was being arrested for the murder of Howard Jenkins. I didn't know he was dead. I mean, how would I?"
"Are you positive they informed you of your rights?"
"Yes, Sir. I've seen it on TV so many times, but I never dreamed it would happen to me. This is unbelievable."
"Okay, we can take that off the table. Were the officers specific when they told you the charges? Think before you answer. This could be important."
"They told me they were charging me with first degree murder of Howard. Then after I got down here, they told me I was also being charged with killing Mr. Wilson."
"Were they specific with those charges?"
"Not really. They said something about it being too big of a coincidence that both weapons came from my desk, and both had my fingerprints on them."
The attorney jotted some notes.
"Was the interview here being filmed?"
Donna shook her head. "I didn't see any cameras. They took me into one of those little rooms and cuffed me to a table like I was a monster or something."
Farrell smile. "Then your interview was being recorded. The local police are required to tape all interviews of prisoners in their custody."
"Prisoner?" Donna repeated. "I never thought I would be called a prisoner. What happens next?"
"When I talked to the DA, she said we could schedule a bond hearing this afternoon. That works in your favor. They won’t have time to discover their mistake."
"Mistake?" Donna asked. "What mistake?"
"The officers didn’t inform you of your rights when they made the second charge. From what you told me, they also failed to specify the exact nature of the charge."
Niki spoke. "How will that help Donna?"
"It's only temporary," the attorney responded, "but at the hearing, we’ll get the second charge dismissed. The officers failed to properly execute the arrest warrant."
"That's great," Donna smiled. "But it still leaves the one for Howard."
"That's true. But with only one circumstantial with the evidence they have, the judge will be more inclined to grant bail. If we have to deal with both charges, he will keep you incarcerated until the trial."
"But I didn't do it. How can they lock up an innocent person?"
"It happens every day, Donna. The prisons are full of people that aren't guilty of the crimes with which they have been charged. For many, it's because they couldn't afford adequate legal counsel."
Donna looked down at the floor. "I can't either. I don't have much money saved up, not near enough to pay what you charge."
Niki smiled. "Don't you worry about that. I'm taking care of your attorney fees. You just need to focus on helping Mr. Farrell with your case."
Donna cried. "I don't kn
ow what to say. Thank you. I'll repay you some day. I don't know when, but I'll pay you back."
"Don't worry about that right now."
"But what about bail? Is it true that will want me to pay ten percent of it? I don't have that either."
"That's only if you use the services of a bail bondsman," Niki smiled. "I'll post your bail if Mr. Farrell gets the judge to agree."
"I don't think it’ll be a problem," the attorney said.
All three turned their heads at an increasing disturbance outside the door. The guard standing just inside the room by the door cracked it open an inch. His body thrust backward when the door flew open and landed on his backside.
Niki was shocked to see the enormous hulk of Blake Hebert filling the doorway with wires hanging from his huge body connected to the tips of the electrodes from the Taser gun. The wires dragged on the floor behind the young man. One officer rode Blake's back with his arms around the football player’s neck.
Niki instinctively stepped between the enraged man and Donna, who stood with her mouth open and an expression of disbelief on her face.
Andrew Farrell fell under the table, cuddling his briefcase like a baby. Fear forced him into a fetal position, afraid to peek out at the ruckus.
"Lawyers," Niki said in the same tone she would describe roadkill.
Blake glared at Niki, ignoring the police officer clinging to his back
"I'm taking her out of here. Get out of my way." The football player grabbed the cop and threw him against the wall like a teddy bear. Niki watched the officer crumple into a heap on the floor. Two more uniformed policemen charged at the hulk from behind.
One took hold of the massive right arm of the athlete. Blake flicked him over like a fly, tossing him across the table and on the floor in front of Niki and Donna.
