by S. Swan
“Go ahead,” I said collapsing in my green chair, “say it.”
“Say what?”
“I told you so.”
“I’d never say that, Cassandra,” Mom said. “What kind of person do you think I am?”
“A mom.”
“That doesn’t always make me right,” she said. “Besides, I wanted you to date Jimmy.”
“I feel like such and idiot.”
“So do I, Honey,” Mom said. “I really thought Jimmy was the one.”
“I knew he wasn’t the one, but I slept with him anyway. I just wanted him to be the one so badly. I refused to listen to him when he said it would mess everything up.”
“You were thinking with your heart.” Mom brushed my hair, but her hand disappeared.
Stop doing that! I would have to wash Mom’s slime out of my hair. “My life is a mess!” I cried.
“Oh Cassie, all things pass with time. Don’t get discouraged.”
“It’s mostly Jimmy, but it’s everything, Mary being gone, Skye and Penny murdered.” I ranted. “Oh and then there’s Ben.”
“Who’s Ben?”
“He’s the cop investigating the murders. Jimmy thinks he likes me.”
“Jimmy told you this Ben guy liked you?”
“Yeah, but I don’t like him. I want to tell him to get lost, but then I want to keep in the loop of this investigation.”
“Maybe Ben’s Mr. Right. Jimmy knew he had to step aside.”
“That’s the problem,” I said. “I don’t like Ben. I mean, sure he’s tall, dark and handsome...really…handsome and he’s kind of sweet...but I don’t l like him. I love Jimmy.”
“Slow down, Cassie,” Mom said. “Forget Jimmy and forget this Ben guy and focus on yourself.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I’ll take a break from men for a while. You know what?”
“What?” Mom asked.
“When Mary Lazarus comes back from her conference, I’m going to take a vacation.” I never took time off and had a lot of vacation time saved up.
“Really?” Mom perked up. Mom loved helping people plan vacations. Mom worked part-time as a travel agent after I moved to college. Mom enjoyed talking about all of the places she visited. Naturally she did well as a travel agent. She had been almost everywhere. She gave the prospective clients firsthand knowledge of their destinations.
“Yes, I’m off men and on to a vacation,” I said. Deep in my gut though, I knew it wasn’t true. A worm of negativity gnawed at me. Jimmy and I were over and I was already lonely.
CHAPTER 5
First thing Monday, Mary Lazarus ruined my vacation plans with one phone call. “Hey, Cassie, I’m staying until Saturday.” Mary said.
“What?” I asked. I expected Mary to return in the afternoon. I planned to take the rest of the week off. I needed a break.
“The prosecutor here wants me to give a lecture on Thursday and the next available flight back to Indiana won’t be until late Friday night.”
“Listen, Mary, a lot of stuff’s been going on here. I think you need to get back as soon as possible.”
“I know about Penny’s murder.”
“How?”
“Nessie called me.” I should have told Mary, not Nessie. I wanted to seem as though I could handle Mary House on my own.
“Shouldn’t you come back now?”
“Cassie, I’m confident that you can handle the place on your own,” she said. I’m not so sure. “As a matter of fact, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about taking on more responsibility. I’m thinking about making you the assistant administrator. I feel like I need to spend more time doing the P.R. work for Mary House, but I don’t have the time if I’m running the place too.”
“Someone is killing prostitutes,” I said. “He killed two more besides Penny. He killed Skye and another poor girl.”
“Honey, men killing prostitutes isn’t new; it happens all of the time,” she said in her gruff voice. “I know it’s sad, but you can’t save the women who aren’t willing to be saved. Try to save the few who want the help.” I heard noise in the background. “Listen I’ve gotta go, but we’ll talk when I get back.”
“But…” I tried to protest, but she already disconnected the call.
In the afternoon, my vow to give up men fell apart too. While I worked at my desk, Nessie called. “Miss. Cassie,” She said. “There’s a man callin’ for you.”
“Who?”
“That cop.”
“Which one?
“Mr. Café Olé,” Nessie said, laughing at her own joke. “He’s on line one.”
“Thank you, Nessie.” I looked at the flashing arrow on my phone. I couldn’t to talk to Ben again. He didn’t get it. I wasn’t into him. I called Nessie back at the front desk.
“Mista’ Carmel Cream is still waitin’,” Nessie said. Enough of the coffee jokes. Ben did have a nice complexion.
“I just can’t talk to him again Nessie.” I sighed. “Please tell him I’m busy and take a message for me.”
“Hmf!” Nessie sounded in protest. “I don’t like lyin’ Miss Cassie.”
“Every time I talk to him it’s more bad news,” I said.
“Alright…Alright.” She said and hung up on me.
I sat at my desk with a feeling of dread. What if he called to tell me about another victim? I was a coward for not taking the call and pushing it off on Nessie. After the coffee shop encounter, I felt like Ben attempted to position himself in my life. I love Jimmy, and even if we were over, I wasn’t on the market.
A minute later, Nessie, called back. “He said he had mo’ questions for you, an’ he needs you to come down to the station to talk to him and that Skinner.”
There were five different police stations in Indianapolis, two of which overlapped the location of Mary House. He could be at either the South Station or the East Station. “Did he say which station?” I asked.
“Um, no an’ I didn’t ask.” Nessie performed a good job at Mary House, but she was a terrible secretary. Numerous times she took messages, and forgot vital information, such as the caller’s name or number. “I figured he already told ya where he worked.”
“He didn’t.” I sighed.
“Didn’t he give you his card or something?”
He had, in fact, given me his card, but I dropped it in the trash by accident. “Yes, I’ll look for it. Thank You, Nessie.”
I pulled my waste paper basket out and began rummaging through it. Fortunately, it was free of half eaten lunches and soda cans. I searched hopelessly. I almost gave up the search when I found the small business card at the bottom of the basket, stuck to another paper with a wad of mint chewing gum. Glad it was my gum, I separated the paper from the card.
Why did they want me in person? I hoped not to identify a cadaver. A scene from a movie flashed in my head. I envisioned a person in a morgue with a cop and the medical examiner. They pulled a covered body out of the locker and yank down the sheet. “Can you identify this body, ma’am?” The officer asked. I got a cold shiver at the thought.
I looked at the clock on my desk. I had another forty-five minutes left before my shift ended. Detective Ben King would have to wait until I finished work. I couldn’t up and leave with Mary still absent.
I returned e-mails and read the intake evaluations for new court ordered residents. The second evaluation caught my eye. The woman’s name was Tabitha Staten. I knew her. It was her first stay at Mary House, but I knew the woman’s story.
Tabitha was only twenty two years old. I never met her, but I knew her sister Shannon, one of the first residents at Mary House. Shannon cleaned up for her little sister, Tabitha. Abandoned by drug addicted parents, Shannon raised herself and five other siblings. Shannon, the oldest, took to the streets to provide for them. She knew only one way to earn money by selling herself. Shannon’s mother was a prostitute and her father was a dealer. Shannon started using in order to deal with the acts that were required as a prostitute.
Shannon came to Mary House a mess. She had one goal, to clean up. She wanted to take care of her siblings. Shannon hoped to keep Tabitha from following in her shoes.
Shannon did well in the program. She stayed at Mary House for about a year, and then got a job. She tried to be a good mother to her siblings. Police found Shannon dead behind a dumpster not long after leaving Mary House. Someone murdered Shannon.
Everyone thought Shannon went back to her old life, but I didn’t. Police never caught the person responsible, but I always thought her father had something to do with it. It enraged John Staten when Shannon refused to work for him. She fought for custody of her siblings and won. I think he killed her, and took the kids. He must have moved on to selling Tabitha. It frustrated me to see Tabitha in the system. She had potential. Not to mention that her sister fought so hard to keep her off the streets, and may have lost her life in the effort. The thought saddened me.
Caught up in Tabitha’s evaluation, I lost track of time. When I checked the clock it was half past five. I needed to go to the police station. I hoped to catch Detective King before shift change. I gathered my stuff, and headed to the station. South Station was only a few blocks south of Mary House. It didn’t take long for me to get there. I went to the reception desk and asked to see Detective King. To my dismay, Skinner came to get me.
“Detective King is on a run,” he said. “I’ll be conducting this interview.” Interview? What the hell is he talking about? I came to the station to answer questions. I became nervous.
Skinner directed me back to a room with a single table and two chairs across from each other. The gray room had only one overhead florescent light. It felt confining when Skinner shut the door behind me. “Please have a seat Ms. Williams,” Skinner said. As I sat, I noticed a small surveillance camera in the top right corner of the ceiling. It wasn’t a routine interview. It was an interrogation. I got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Why was I here? What did Skinner think I knew?
Skinner dropped a closed file folder on the table and plopped in the adjacent chair. “Am I in trouble for something?” I asked.
“Should you be?” He asked
“I don’t know anything more than what I’ve already told Ben…I mean…Detective King,” I said. Skinners face darkened. I shouldn’t have used Ben’s first name.
“Can you tell me about Jimmy Kim?” Skinner asked.
“He’s my friend,” I said, cautiously. “Why?”
“He is a person of interest.”
“What? Jimmy doesn’t have anything to do with these murders!”
“Really?” Skinner asked. “Do you know what your friend was doing the night of September fifteenth?”
“He was with me at my apartment,” I said.
“Are you sure?” Skinner asked, smugly. Realization hit me like a ton of bricks. My stomach churned. September fifteenth was the night we looked for Skye. Oh, shit! I told myself to stay calm. They couldn’t arrest Jimmy without more evidence than driving in the area. “You see, we did a routine police run of the area where these women work. Do you know what we found?” He continued without an answer. “We discovered that your friend was pulled over on Washington Street that night. According to the report, the officer stopped Mr. Kim for suspicious behavior. It appears that the officer saw his black BMW making several slow passes down the street.”
“It isn’t what it seems,” I said.
“Let me finish…” Skinner held up a hand. “Office Ernie Hanover stopped the vehicle belonging to a Jimmy Kim. At the time of the stop, Mr. Kim and his passenger, Cassandra Williams,” He gave me a pointed look. “claimed they were looking for a specific known prostitute by the name of Skye.”
“I told the officer that night. Skye had absconded from Mary House. I was looking for her.” I kept calm and stayed with the story I told the other officer. “You see, I was trying to find her because she needed her insulin.”
“Yes, that’s what it says in the report,” Skinner said. He smacked the folder in his hand. “The funny thing is, we checked her arrest records and there’s no mention of her being diabetic or ever needing insulin during her stay in the county lock-up.” He scratched his head, puzzled. “I’d think if she needed insulin that bad, she would have needed it during her jail stay too.”
“The women are given a complete physical upon admittance to Mary House. Maybe that’s when she was found to be diabetic,” I said.
Skinner leaned close to me and said, “The medical examiner didn’t find any traces of insulin in her system during the autopsy.” I shrunk away from him. “I bet if we subpoena her records from Mary House, we’ll find that Sarah Blackburn was not listed as a diabetic either.” Skinner stood up and loomed over me. “I’m giving you a chance to tell the truth Girly. I suggest you do that.”
“Am I under arrest?” I asked.
“Not yet,” he said. He leaned into my ear and whispered, “I can come up with charges on anyone, if I watch them long enough.” Oh shit, I’m in very hot water and this guy is turning up the heat.
I had to think and think fast. “Are you trying to intimidate me?” I asked.
“Of course not, I just want the truth. I want to catch the person responsible,” he said, benevolently.
Cornered, I decided to tell the truth. “I insisted on going out to look for Skye. My friend Jimmy didn’t want me to go to that area at night. He insisted on accompanying me.” I gave an innocent face. “When the officer stopped us a clean syringe fell out of my purse. I admit I lied to the officer about it. I had it left over from the Clean Needle program we have at Mary House. I forgot it was in there. I know, it’s illegal to have a needle, but he could see it was still in the package and wasn’t used.” I confessed everything.
“You could be arrested for that,” Skinner said. A misdemeanor charge for paraphernalia on me seemed better than a murder charge for Jimmy.
“I know, that’s why I lied to the officer,” I said.
“Do you look for all women who go missing from Mary House?” he asked. “That seems beyond the scope of your employment.”
“Haven’t you had cases that bother you even off the clock?”
“No, I don’t bring my work home with me.”
“Doesn’t sound like a very committed officer,” I jabbed.
“I’m a very committed cop during my shift Girly. After hours, I do more than you know to contribute to the safety of the upstanding citizens of this City.” Skinner slapped the table. “Forgive me if I don’t go out looking for the wastes of society. I don’t help those who break the law, and I sure as hell don’t break the law to help them.” He snapped. “Clean Needle program…” Skinner glared with his beady little eyes. “You’re just enabling junkies!”
“You do what you do and I do what I do,” I said, indignantly. I straightened defiantly. Skinner preferred to lock offenders up and throw away the key. Jail solved nothing. Overcrowding caused a revolving door system. Defendants go in and out with no training, no rehabilitation, and no skills. They had no options other than commit more crimes. Mary House gave women skills needed to have a chance at a better life. I had no shame for what I did.
“Why were you so concerned with this hooker?” Skinner asked. “When we spoke to you a week ago, you seemed sure we were there about this hooker, Skye.” He spat the word “hooker” like a fowl taste in his mouth.
“Skye had potential,” I said. “It was only natural for me to assume you came regarding Skye. These women have only two outcomes if they aren’t rehabilitated, death or arrest. Correct me if I’m mistaken, but cops don’t make office visits about arrests. I assumed someone had died. I deduced it was Skye because she was the only resident unaccounted for.” I stood to leave.
“We aren’t finished,” Skinner said. He gave me a sadistic smile.
I started for the door. “I’m finished talking to you,” I said. Skinner blocked my path. He looked menacing. He didn’t like women standing up to him. Making women cower made him feel powerf
ul. I knew his type, and I wasn’t going to let him have power over me.
“Where is your friend?” He asked, malevolently. Skinner aimed for the heart with his comment. I could feel anger radiating from him. He wanted to hurt me.
“He’s away visiting family,” I said. I refused to let Skinner intimidate me, no matter how scary he acted.
“Where?” he barked.
“I don’t know.”
“I’ve done some investigating, and something is fishy about Mr. Kim and Kim Investments.”
I leaned on the table relaxed, but my heart pounded. “I know nothing about his business transactions.”
“You two are up to something, and I’ll find out what.” He spat.
I pointed a finger at him. “Do what you have to do, but next time you interrogate me, I’ll have an attorney present.”
“Only guilty people need lawyers,” he said. “People with nothing to hide don’t need counsel.”
“Attorneys are to protect people’s rights from cops like you,” I said. I flashed a sarcastic smile.
Skinner snapped and grabbed my arm in a crushing grip. “Listen, you bitch…”
“Billy!” A voice shouted. “What are you doing?” I looked up to see Ben King standing in the doorway.
Skinner let go of my arm with such force, it almost knocked me off balance. “I was just questioning her.”
“It appears to be more than questioning,” Ben said.
“It was more like an inquisition,” I said.
Ben shot a pointed look at Skinner. “You know procedure, two officers.” I picked up on Ben’s comment. Skinner wasn’t supposed to interrogate me alone. Ben’s nostrils flared in anger. Tension vibrated between the partners.
“I expected you back at any time,” Skinner said. “I just brought her back here, when she got cocky and I…”
“Bullshit!” I barked. I looked at my watch. “I’ve been locked in this room for at least a half hour.”
“Lies!” Skinner cried. “She’s lying…”