by Judy Candis
Grant had left for the station over an hour ago. Before he’d departed, the two of them had gone over numerous possibilities, even toying with the idea that William Jasper was behind this latest fatality.
The press was out in full force, and this tragedy was looking bad for the DPD. It seemed their moment of victory was suffering a setback and that the department was at square one again.
Jael heard the rain plummeting against the crack house roof and glanced upward. Lord, what’s going on here?
She thought about the ruthlessness of these people and how life meant so little to them. She’d been up against a lot while working as an officer of the law, but had never had to deal with organized killers, organized hate.
Dear God, what role do I play in all this? How can you use me to stop these senseless murders?
“Detective Reynolds?”
Jael turned to see Sills approaching from the back of the house, his expression of confusion mirroring her own.
“We’ve got a bad case on our hands with this one,” he said, shaking his head.
“Yeah, you’re right there.” She rubbed her left hand across her temple. “Grant . . . the FBI agent, was telling me about dangerous militia groups they’ve uncovered across the country. He was right to suspect they were here. Why did we not know this, Sills?”
“You’ve got me. It’s hard to believe this stench was right under our noses and we never even got a whiff.”
“But why Peoples? He couldn’t have been a threat to them.”
“To get your attention maybe, to say they’re not playing games, to keep us on our toes? Who knows what these guys think?” Sills looked over at Jael with concern in his eyes. “You’ll solve this one, too, don’t worry. It’s going to look good when you make lieutenant.”
“You think I’m concerned about that now!” she shouted.
“Okay . . . okay, don’t bite my head off. Wrong timing on my part.”
“I’m sorry. This one has got me puzzled up and down. Every time I think I’ve figured it out, something new is added.”
“Like I said, you’ll solve this one, too.”
Jael nodded, but with a lot less assurance than Sills seemed to have.
“Grant has taken the note we found on Peoples’s shirt back to the lab for prints.”
Sills looked at her hard for a moment. “Hope I’m not stepping over the line, but is there anything I should know about the two of you?”
“Sills . . .”
Sills forged ahead, refusing to be put on hold on the matter again. “I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you were gawking at our FBI boy back at the station. And he wasn’t slack on the emotions either.”
Jael’s first reaction was to deny his observations. She ran her fingers along the side of her nose, and blew air through her mouth. “Too much on our plate right now to really know one way or the other. Lucky me, huh.” She turned and headed into the rain and the night.
Chapter
28
It was eleven-thirty when Jael returned to the office. A small throbbing at the base of her temple was making its presence known while her shoulder beat in awkward time with sharp little jabbing pains. The mound of paperwork on her desk wasn’t helping the situation at all. Before forging into the caseload, interoffice memos and the ever-increasing pink telephone slips, she downed three Tylenol tablets with a cup of cold coffee. Within twenty minutes the Tylenol had kicked in and she had sorted the disarray into neatly stacked piles of “Urgent” and “Someday.”
The downpour was still at full throttle, and Jael realized she hadn’t seen a full day’s sun in several days. It was a reminder that a cloud had settled over her perfect little life, bringing with it the electricity of uncertainty and the unknown. When little bursts of brightness attempted to touch her in the form of Grant, darkness quickly reclaimed her each time she had to deal with the madness going on around her.
Her cell phone beeped. She pulled it from her waistband, glad for the distraction, and clicked it on. Static flickered over the waves as she spoke.
“Detective Reynolds, Homicide.”
“Jael? Grant here. I’m heading over to reinterview Upton and thought you might like to come along. The note was a long shot at best—no prints, and common writing paper sold in any drugstore. I didn’t expect much more, not with the expertise of these guys, but we have to check out everything. Can you swing it?”
“Should I meet you or are you going to come by here?” she asked.
“How about if I pick you up. I’m only a few minutes away. Meet me at the front steps of the station.” “You got it.”
When she hung up, Sills was grinning at her.
“I don’t even have to ask who that was. That funny look on your face says it was our FBI boy.”
“Sills, give me a break here,” Jael responded noncommittally. “I’m still trying to figure out what’s going on myself.”
“So it may be more than just a professional encounter?” he teased.
Jael knew Sills had her best interests at heart. Over the past few months his matchmaking had increased from casual mention of single men to scheduled meetings. So far, she’d managed to avoid any actual blind dates.
“Yeah, but talk about bad timing,” she said with a teasing voice of her own. “I mean, you know me—if it looks like it might distract me from the case . . .”
“Yeah, ain’t that the truth, forever the super-policewoman,” he kidded. “But you ain’t fooling me either, and this guy’s no dummy if he’s working for the Feds, and to come traipsing into this mess tells me he’s got passion. You and I have been partners too long for me to let some out-of-towner prance in here and put claims on you without my making sure it’s good for you.”
“Well, thanks for the encouragement, if that’s what it is.”
“Before you go dashing off again, can I get the file on Upton and whatever you have that Mr. FBI has shared with you about this organization? Some of us are expected to do some serious work around here, you know.” His words were spoken with a full measure of kindness.
“You’re a pal, Sills, you know that? Take whatever you need off my desk; I’ll get it from you later. By the way, did you get a chance to speak with Foster?”
Before he could answer, another voice joined theirs.
“Excuse me, but I need to review your file on Upton also,” Billups said from just behind her shoulder. Jael hadn’t seen Ernest Billups in the past few days. She was always thankful for such small favors.
“Why?”
“ ‘Why?’ Oh yeah, I keep forgetting, you think this is a one-man show and not a team effort. Well, sorry, but we all share information here. Whatever you have, I need to go over it for my own report.” He actually sneered. “Every time you go running off half-cocked we’re left behind having to clean up after you.”
She ignored his sarcasm and made a sound of derision, then added, “Please.” Her longtime resentment swelled within, but she held on to her temper . . . just barely. At the same time, a thought occurred to her: Billups was white, ignorant and a chauvinist pig—could he have a connection to the Klan? She remembered seeing him leave the Captain’s office, too. What had he been doing?
“You’ll have to wait your turn, and then you’ll get only what I think is necessary for you to have. Until then, I’ll call you if you’re needed.”
Billups opened his mouth to retort, then snapped it shut. As he headed for the double glass doors, she asked for forgiveness from the pleasure she felt at seeing Billups red-faced and at a loss for words.
The county jail was only a few blocks from the Eighth Precinct police station, and both Jael and Grant were quiet during the short drive. Jael had a ton of things she wanted to talk over with him, but didn’t want to hit on a really meaningful topic and then have to abort it at a very sensitive point due to police matters.
When they pulled up to the jailhouse, Grant unbuckled his seat belt while giving her one of his stern, no-nonsense looks. “Wh
en we finish here, I want at least thirty minutes of your time, uninterrupted.”
He didn’t wait for her confirmation, but climbed out of the car and walked around it to open her door. He’d displayed a lot of this kind of chivalry from the moment she’d met him. When he opened her door, she smiled. “Thirty minutes—that’s all?”
They walked in quiet companionship up to the clerk’s desk. She let Grant handle the initial signature clearing, standing back to admire the man while she had the chance.
They entered the inmate visiting room to find Upton in his blazing orange prison uniform staring at them with immense hatred in his eyes.
As soon as they took seats across from the man, Grant got directly to the point.
“Before we start, would you like your lawyer present?”
“I’ll tell you if and when I need a lawyer. Shoot with your stupid questions, I’m ready.”
“Upton, you’re looking the death penalty straight in the eye. There’s only one way you can plea-bargain for a life sentence, and I think you know what that is.”
A grin spread across Upton’s face. “You mean rat on who’s working with me, like your little drug addict nigger did when he told us where to find the dealer’s hangout in the first place?”
“That’s what Foster’s son told you?” Jael shouted. She understood why Foster was so upset and fearful. “I ain’t saying nuthin’ more. I know the law. You can’t come here and try to get me to admit to anything. Remember, you said so yourself, anything I tell you guys can be used against me later in court. That’s if this even makes it to court.”
“You can count on its making it to court—you have my personal promise on that,” Grant informed him with a pleased look of his own. “But I’m not after you. You’re not much, just one of the small fries.”
“Don’t tell me I’m not much!” Upton was livid, his face turning red at the remark. He quickly regained control of himself. “You got no proof I was involved in any of this hoopla, and won’t. Kinda ruins your day, huh, Mr. FBI Agent. With all your nigger smarts, you can’t prove a thing and you know it.”
“Come on, Upton. Why allow them to let you carry the whole rap, let you be the fall guy,” Grant said, leaning back in his metal chair. “And you know that’s all you are. You’ll only be remembered for a few days after we fry you. Then there’ll be another Lone Wolf to take your place, getting all the praise and pats on the back, and you’ll be all but forgotten.”
“I’m not falling for that crap. You think any jury’s gonna listen to you and a bunch of fabricated bumblings. I was just protecting my property. Ain’t I got a right to do that? How was I supposed to know that the two niggers sneaking around was cops? So see, you ain’t so hot. But I will tell you this much, Mr. FBI Agent.” Upton leaned forward, and Jael involuntarily backed away. Grant didn’t even flinch. “It ain’t over till the fat lady sings. And singing ‘Dixie,’ not that nigger crap y’all love so much.” Upton broke into a loud, rambunctious laugh.
Grant still hadn’t moved; only a small flex of his jaw indicated he was getting angry. “Once more, Upton, this will be the last chance you get to save your sorry red neck. No plea bargains later.”
“Nigger, you don’t know what ‘later’ is. I’ve got all the time in the world.”
Jael was amazed by Upton’s bold self-assuredness. Was the note they’d found on Peoples’s body a reason for his confidence?
She asked him. “What did the note mean?”
“What note?” he responded with faked innocence. “Somebody using Peoples as their personal mail carrier?”
The man was a trickster with words, admitting knowledge without giving them a thing they could use against him. “You boys fouled up there, Upton. Peoples never told us anything,” she taunted.
“Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. But we’ll never have to worry about whether he will in the future, now will we?”
“How long have you been a member of the local white supremacist group?” Grant asked.
“I ain’t afraid to tell that. We want the world to know we’re still in control. I’ve been an active member for six years,” he bragged, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest.
“What do you mean by ‘active’?”
“What else? Attending meetings, paying dues—you know, the regular stuff folks do in any organization.”
“Where did the weapons come from?”
“What weapons?” he snickered.
“Don’t play games, Upton—we’ve confiscated all the weaponry from the barn, much of which was military-issue.”
Upton thought for a minute, never taking his eyes off Grant. Then the smile returned. “They were donated.”
“An arsenal of weapons and explosives were ‘donated’? For what purpose?”
When Upton rolled his eyes over them with deliberate disgust, Jael looked away, saying a quick prayer. The empty cold hue of his irises was like looking through the terrifying gates of hell.
“For protection,” he spat.
“Protection from whom?”
“For one, from members of this lying government. A government that’s prejudiced against whites. We’re sick and tired of crying affirmative-action politicians pushing their crap down our throats, when talented white children can’t get into major universities because of race quotas. All these black and Hispanic dummies are walking around in our great institutions of learning while decent white students are rejected because of the color of their skin. Reverse discrimination and all that.”
Jael could tell Upton was spouting off things he’d been told, but didn’t actually know anything about. He’d probably never even seen the inside of a college building.
“God told His people to conquer the land, get rid of the infidels and purify it for His return. That’s what we’re doing. These so-called innocent people bring the wrath of God upon themselves,” Upton scoffed. “But we’re the avengers of God! The Bible says ‘destruction unto death for those who defy God’s law.’ That includes homosexuals, Jews, junkies, Chinks and niggers.”
Jael prayed silently. Father, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s been brainwashed and snared in by Satan himself.
“Have you read the Bible?” Grant asked him calmly.
“Don’t have to. It’s preached from cover to cover at all our meetings.”
“Sorry, buddy, but whoever is teaching you, they’re not doing it from the Bible. At least not the Holy Bible.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. God is on our side!” Upton suddenly seemed a bit agitated. “You’re wasting my time. Guard!” he shouted over his shoulder. “Get me out of here. I’m tired of looking at these nigger monkeys.”
Jael noticed Grant’s jaw flex again. He was holding back his temper just as much as she was.
They had gotten very little from Upton, and as they left the building in silence, it seemed he still had the upper hand, even behind bars.
Back in the car, as she and Grant headed down Waters Avenue toward the station, Jael wanted to wash the horrible feeling from her person. She needed to be reminded of the good connections people could have with one another.
“How about we try dinner again, and this time let’s leave all the craziness behind,” she suggested.
“Fair enough, but I have to stop by my hotel to change first. I’ll drop you off at the station, then swing back, and we can leave for dinner from there. Unless you want to wait for me in my hotel room while I change?” He raised his eyebrows several times in a Groucho Mark imitation, a teasing grin on his lips.
Jael laughed. “I’ll take you up on your first suggestion. I’m way behind on my reports and can use the time to at least get them started before kicking back for the rest of the day.”
Back at the station, she made a call home to Ramon.
“Hi, honey, it’s going to be another long night. And when I finish this paperwork, I’m going to stop and get something to eat with Grant. Is that okay?”
“No prob, Mom. But hey, what’s with you? You digging this guy or something?”
“He seems like a nice man, but I’m not thinking anything serious right now. Just dinner.”
“Well, don’t feel like you have to rush home on my account. Have fun—you owe it to yourself.”
“Well, gee, thanks for the permission.”
“No, seriously. I’ve never seen you go out on a date. It’s about time.”
“Have I told you lately, you’re my own personal angel from heaven?”
“On a regular basis.”
“Love ya, honey.”
“Love ya back.”
Jael hung up and then dialed Rhonda’s number.
She could hear the sound of loud music competing with an even louder television program, and then Rhonda shouting into the phone, “HELLO?”
“Hey, Cuz, I know you’re busy but I’ve got to work late again tonight and wonder if you could swing by and check on Ramon and Terrell later on?”
“You know I will,” her cousin answered, before shouting to someone to “turn that TV down.” Instantly, Rhonda picked up her side of the conversation without missing a beat. “Besides, I like to pop up on those two every now and then and catch them looking at nudie films.”
“Quit your mess, girl! You know ain’t nothing like that going on in my crib.”
“Yeah, I know. You got my poor nephew thinking if he even looks at a girl funny he’ll burn in hell.”
“That’s not true, Rhonda, and you know it!”
“Just teasing. You’re a great mom with a great son. Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I admire the way you’re raising that boy. He’s going to be one of those special ones smart girls will be after like bees. Still, it never hurts to surprise them every now and then. I’ll be there around six or seven. If they’re up to something, I’ll call after I take their skins off.”
“You got it.”
Jael hung up and finally began working on the reports. She was still at it thirty minutes later when Grant walked into the room.