by Judy Candis
“Hah, that’s a joke. As soon as I gave my life completely to Christ, the adversary attacked with a vengence. The more I attempted to share my newfound faith with my husband, the more he rebelled. He refused to accept Ramon’s healing as anything but advanced medical science, even when the doctors professed they were confused over the quick recovery. My ex seemed to have a blind eye to what was really happening.
“Our disagreements escalated, and his resentment toward me grew out of control. He poured on the blame, constantly reminding me that if not for my drug-crazed state in the first place, the incident would never have happened. He pulled every string he could during the divorce proceedings to take Ramon from me. That would have given him all he needed to prove that without him, I was a useless human being. I was forced to accept my son on a trial basis, to prove I was a good mother. Virgil still hasn’t forgiven me for winning custody of our son. My mom and Brenda, my prayer-partner, helped me through it all. But I guess in many ways, my husband made his point.”
Jael took a swallow of liquid. Suddenly, her throat seemed very dry. “After divorcing my husband, I didn’t think I deserved another chance at love. And when time passed and well . . . ”
“I know you know you’re a very attractive woman.” Grant’s voice deepened, transforming into more of a caress. “I’m sure men are constantly approaching you.”
Her pulse jumped and gooseflesh crawled up her arms. Dear Lord, dear Lord, save me from myself. Aware of where the conversation was headed and her own weakening state, Jael attempted to keep the conversation laced with a strong spiritual overtone.
“God has His time,” she murmured.
“And are you patiently waiting or hiding?”
Jael swallowed, her cheeks warmed. “A little of both, I guess. And I will admit, it hasn’t been all that easy. I’m human, and sometimes it could just be a casual companion to make the difference.”
“When was the last time you were on a date?”
“Date? Dear God. What’s that?” She was thankful for the opportunity to lighten the mood.
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who devote themselves so totally to their career and child that life passes them by and one day they look up and ask what happened.”
“I’m looking up now, but what I see kind of scares me.” Man, do I have a big mouth, Jael thought. It was like she was thinking one thing but saying something completely different out loud.
Grant didn’t answer right away. “I’ve only known you a few hours, Jael, but with all that’s happened today, it seems like I’ve known you a lot longer.” His eyes seemed to simmer with a hidden message.
“I’m flattered by your compliments, but I believe this time, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
The “caution bug” was biting at her conscious, stinging her with remarks like “Who is this man really?” and “It’s probably just obvious to him that I might be lonely and vulnerable.” He could be thinking of her as just a ship passing through the night. A quick fleshly morsel to digest while on the job in Florida. Another of the women in every port. The thoughts began to spread like webs through her brain, and Jael lifted her chin a tad in defiance. She might be a little rusty when it came to current dating procedures, but she wasn’t that easy.
Grant leaned back in his seat. His voice dropped to a low rumble. “Really?”
“I think you’re picking up on something that’s not there.”
The look on Grant’s face told her he thought it was a lie and that he was insulted.
“Obviously I have. And with that, I think maybe it’s time I called it a night—you need your rest and time to care for your wound. I’ll be at the station first thing in the morning. We’ll deal with whatever this is at another time.”
Jael rose from the couch. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
Chapter
24
Jael kicked back the covers on her bed, feeling way too warm. She’d tossed and turned ever since climbing in bed thirty minutes ago. Sleep eluded her like common sense to a teenager. The conversation with Grant played over and over in her mind. What she should have said and what she had said.
It was okay to be cautious, but she had cut it off at the starting gate. Why? Was she afraid of being let down again, of not being up to par? There was no denying she’d been lonely. A lot, actually. And the loneliness would creep up on her at the oddest times. Like sometimes in church, when a man placed his arms on the back of the pew where his wife was sitting. Jael would glance their way and wish for that kind of comfortable relationship. Or sometimes when she was at Rhonda’s and her cousin’s husband would come in and pull his wife to him, while Rhonda laughed seductively. And of course the next day, when Rhonda would excitedly give Jael a condensed version of the couple’s passionate night, Jael would ache for her own intimate alliance. But whenever those needs or thoughts crossed her mind, she pushed them back, determined to wait until God revealed her time.
But now those emotions were attacking with a vengeance. She’d never been so out of it, thinking more about a man than the case she was on. For the past two years, she’d had her career and Ramon to keep her focused, to fight the demons that threatened to weaken her resolve.
And now she was on the biggest case she’d ever tackled, and here she was sitting up all night thinking about a man instead of getting the rest she needed for tomorrow’s demanding day.
Jael yanked the pillow and pulled it over her head. Immediately Grant’s image filled her mind.
Oh Lord, what am I to do? I’m so attracted to this man it’s scary. And it’s not just because he’s so good-looking, although that’s certainly an added plus, but tonight I got a chance to peek into his mind. He’s no slouch when it comes to the things of God. At least not from what I can tell. So what is this I’m feeling? Is it okay? I’m so confused.
Jael crawled out of bed and dropped to her knees; she knew she’d never get any sleep tonight without placing her confusion before the Lord and then leaving it there. But it turned out to be harder than she’d hoped, for once she was back under the covers, thoughts of Grant resumed whirling around in her head, between lines of Bible verse.
Six hours later, Jael’s chest was tight with anticipation as she walked into the station expecting to see Grant. He was nowhere around when she entered the squad room, but Sills was in his notorious position, leaning back in his chair.
“Your phone has been ringing off the hook all morning.”
“Yeah, Tammy gave me a list of callbacks I don’t think I have time for.”
Before Jael could take a seat, her phone rang. Giving Sills a twist of her lips, she picked up the receiver. “Detective Reynolds, Homicide.”
The voice of a young black man barked through the earpiece. “Hold on. Big Jake wants to talk to you.”
A few seconds later Big Jake was on the line. No “hello,” no “what’s up,” just right into his angry complaint.
“What is this shit? Do you mean to tell me my boys have been offed by the Klan? What do you plan to do about it? I ain’t taking no—”
“Jake, Jake, calm down. This is out of your hands now. We have a suspect in custody and—”
“Forget that shit! This is war! Man, I can’t believe we were the target.”
“Jake, listen to me. We’re going to handle this by the book. I know you’re angry, but there’s not much you can do but wait and—”
“The hell there’s nothing I can do. You just wait. If those crackers think they can walk in on my turf and kill my boys, they don’t know who the hell they’re messing with. If I have to rip up this whole town, somebody’s gonna pay. You got that, Detective? Those mothas will PAY!” The buzz of a dead line screamed in her ear.
Jael hung up slowly and sighed. “That’s all I need right now, a riot.”
“Big Jake talking retaliation?” Sills asked.
“With a vengeance. I need to get over there and talk to him and his boys before they do something stupid.”
She
wasn’t even halfway out of her seat before the phone rang again.
“Detective Reynolds, Homicide.”
“This is Daniel Foster. Oh God, why did I ever think this was going to just all blow over? The world has turned upside down! But I have to tell you how my son is involved in all this.”
Jael flexed her fingers in frustration. “Mr. Foster, why didn’t you say anything about this yesterday?”
“I didn’t believe it myself! But now with all the news coverage about the Klan in Dadesville, and the killings, I have to accept my son’s role in it.”
“Okay, Mr. Foster, I’m listening.”
“Not over the phone. You have to come here.”
Jael dropped her forehead into her hand, her arm resting on her elbow, and massaged an imaginary throb. The pain in her shoulder, which had not bothered her until now, began a constant throb. Foster’s son’s direct involvement with the Klan was a little far-fetched, but the fear and concern in Foster’s voice was unmistakable. “Okay. I’ll be there within the hour.”
Once again, before she could rise from her seat, something stopped her. But this time it was something much more pleasant than the ringing of her phone. Her pulse raced like a champion thoroughbred as Grant walked in and stood before her desk.
Giving Sills a quick acknowledging nod, he turned his full attention to Jael. She could tell that although Sills pretended to be busy at work, his ears perked up several notches.
“I need to talk to you.” Grant’s voice was stern and commanding, and his look added volumes to those simple words.
Jael swallowed, rising from her seat and nodding her head in the affirmative, bound by his gaze the entire time. Pushing her chair back, eyes still locked with his, she jumped at the shrill ring of the phone. She hesitated in picking it up, but Grant gave her a nod indicating he would wait.
Not looking at what she was doing, she fumbled for the phone and had to tear her gaze from his to recapture the handle before it hit the floor. She lifted the receiver to her ear, looking at Grant’s broad chest. “Detective Reynolds, Homicide.”
“I think you and your FBI boyfriend might want to cruise by the crack house on 29th Street. There’s a little present waiting there for the two of you.” The line went dead.
Jael replaced the receiver in its cradle and glanced at Grant in surprise. “I’ve been getting weird calls all morning, but I have a really bad feeling about this one,” she said softly.
Grant waited. Sills looked up.
“A rather unnerving voice just suggested you and I cruise over to 29th Street, where the dealer’s body was discovered. ‘A little gift’ is waiting there for us.”
Grant glanced at Sills, then back at Jael, as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t think they would lay down on this one. We’re too close to the nucleus of their operation. We’d better head over there right away.”
Chapter
25
Jael and Grant left together. Sills had offered to come along, but Jael suggested he send along backup and for now keep answering her phone and call Mr. Foster back to see if he could interview him about his son.
At the time Sills had given her a funny look, but Jael hoped he didn’t read anything into her behavior. She needed to feel out whether or not she’d ruined her chances of getting to know Grant better after her abrupt manner last night.
And even though she knew this was the wrong time to be analyzing how she felt about Grant, she also knew he would be gone soon and that whatever was going on between them needed to be addressed before that. The fact that he lived so far away was something to consider in itself.
Jael, nervous about her behavior last night, noticed that Grant remained silent as he drove. It was obvious he wanted to stick to business and forget what had almost transpired between them.
When he finally spoke, it was in a cold, neutral tone. It sounded more like he was giving a report than sharing information with her.
“Hate groups have increased by ten percent just over the last two years,” he said. “An African-American psychiatrist, Alvin Poussaint, recently reported his findings on extreme racism and believes it should be considered a mental illness and treated as such. I don’t know if I agree with him, but at least he’s attempting to study the mentality behind the madness.”
Jael picked up on the bitter edge that had crept into his voice. In the silence of her mind, she knew full well that Satan was the Prince of Deceit, making men seem wise in their own minds. But as the Bible verse Romans 12:16 said, Be not wise in your own conceits.
“Grant, about last night . . .”
“Hold that thought until I fill you in on what you should expect during the trial. I have discovered—”
“Grant, no!” Jael interrupted. “I . . . I apologize for my behavior last night. I was wrong.”
Grant turned to stare at her, a sudden sparkle of interest twinkling in his eyes.
“All that talk about romance and dating last night made me a little nervous—very nervous, to be truthful. You hit too close to home. I wasn’t ready to admit some of those things, even to myself. And yes, I have been hiding behind my career. And I’m a little frightened that of all people it was you who awakened something in me I thought was long dead.”
“What makes it so scary that it’s me?”
“Well, look at you. Fine, great muscles, right timbre in your voice, clothes that fit your body as if they were sewn on.”
Grant made a throaty chuckling sound. “Thanks for feeding my ego, but what does any of that have to do with your being frightened of me?”
“Well, for heaven’s sake, that makes you Mr. Perfect almost. That’s scary. Women are probably falling all over you. Tell me you don’t have a harem of panting women in every city and a little black book filled with phone numbers.”
“I don’t have a harem of women or a little black book,” he said, laughing and slowly shaking his head. “I will confess to recently breaking up with a nice young lady who quite possibly had marriage on her mind, but we both agreed I wasn’t the man for her in the end. The last thing I expected was to be so quickly smitten by another gorgeous sister.”
“ ‘Smitten’?” Jael had to laugh at the term. He was really just a big sweetheart by nature. What could possibly be wrong with another dinner in a more romantic setting than her junky den?
“That’s the homeboy in me. But you don’t have to be afraid of me, Jael. I understand we’ve just met. I just want to get to know you better. There can’t be any harm in that.”
“I feel the same way, and from this moment on, I promise to act like a woman with a little sense and not go running off the deep end.”
“Fair enough.”
Chapter
26
The day was overcast when they arrived at the crack house and started up the walk to the yellow barrier tape still flapping around the fence and gate.
“Should we wait for backup? That ‘little gift’ could be anything,” Grant asked, but she could tell the question was mostly out of concern for her safety.
“The police tape is still in place, so let’s see how much we can feel out before they get here. We’re probably only a few minutes ahead of them.”
Grant pulled a pocketknife out of his vest jacket, and while he was cutting the warning tape that crisscrossed the entrance, Jael remembered the rush of fear that attacked her the first time she’d placed her foot on this threshold. She experienced another bout of anxiety now.
Once the tape was removed, Grant pulled his weapon from his holster and Jael did likewise. Grant carefully checked for any surprises before slowly pushing the door open. Jael cautiously stepped in and moved past the foyer toward the spot where they had discovered the first dealer. Even with the minimal amount of light falling through the front door, she still recognized the dried bloodstains on the tile. Behind her, Grant moved off to her right to investigate the surrounding rooms. Jael forced herself to check out the one on her left.
“Find anythi
ng?” she called out.
“Nothing.”
“Think it was a prank call?”
“I wouldn’t put anything past these guys. But to send us directly to the first crime scene says volumes. Let’s check the backyard.”
The scarred wooden door to the back was cracked partially open. The upper hinge had long ago rotted away, making the door stick and lean slightly downward. Jael turned sideways and eased through the tight space, with Grant right behind her.
Her foot stepped in something wet on the floor right by the door. Pulling her foot away, she froze. Grant stared down at her foot, then back at her. They exchanged a wary look.
“Grant, maybe . . .” Whatever she was about to say died in her throat as she turned to stand away from the door, bumping it slightly. There, slumped in a well-worn, overstuffed chair with cotton hanging out of its arms, was Peoples, propped up like a puppet. His white throat was grotesquely marred by deep rope burns, his mouth hung open in a silent scream and the strong, pungent smell of blood and death floated around him in sour waves. His cold, dead eyes met Jael’s in accusation. Jael took an involuntary step backward, her own eyes widened in horror.
Penned on the chest of his dirty stained shirt was a handwritten note.
YOU’VE MADE A BIG MISTAKE, NIGGERS.
Chapter
27
The thunderstorm finally made its promised appearance, with strong, swift rain that drenched the sidewalks like someone had ripped a hole in the sky. The crime team, draped in bright orange rain capes, swarmed the place, along with the coroner, additional police, neighborhood gawkers under umbrellas and, of course, the media.
Jael was back in her element, issuing orders and making sure the crime scene was secured. She was still there long after the body was removed and the forensics team was finishing the painstaking task of sifting through the soggy mess for evidence.
She felt sorry for Peoples. He hadn’t told them anything. She wondered if there would be more repercussions as a result of their “big mistake.”