by Judy Candis
“I had no heavy date, and what I do is my business. Why is everyone around here trying to hook me up or marry me off?” The words sounded sharp even to her own ears.
“Hey, don’t bite my head off. I just—”
“I’m sorry, Sills, I’ve got a lot on my mind,” Jael said as she scanned the medical examiner’s report, still not looking directly at Sills. “I got very little rest last night.”
Her partner obviously decided not to comment on that statement. “Well, if you’re interested, what I’ve got so far isn’t much either, other than the fact that our suspect is proving to be an arrogant bastard. Got a real smug look on his face this morning and all cocky as hell.”
Jael could imagine he was. Whoever he was working with was pulling her strings like she was a puppet. Her nerves were wired to the snapping point. Oh please, just let me get through this day, Lord, she thought. Then she’d take her son home, kiss him until he howled and then maybe she’d disappear for a few days with the boys and go fishing or something. She had a lot of vacation time accumulated, and she would share every minute of it with Ramon, after he got back from his dad’s. Right now she wouldn’t think twice about going along with them. She’d put up with Virgil just to be near her son.
The phone rang.
Jael snatched it up so fast it slipped from her hands and she had to fumble with it in the air. Sills raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his seat.
“Hello, Detective Reynolds here.”
“About time you got to work. Did you get my message?”
Jael could have screamed. It took every ounce of control she had and then some to keep from slamming the phone back in its cradle. “Yes, Virgil, I got the message. Ramon will be ready on time for you to pick him up.” From my lips to God’s ear, she thought.
“I want him to wear his beige suit, the one I bought him last year. He looks sharp in that, like real money.”
Jael imagined Ramon in the expensive beige suit and smiled for the first time that day. Yes, her son did look sharp in that outfit. She remembered the first time he’d worn it to church. You couldn’t have told him he wasn’t the cat’s meow.
“I think it’s at the cleaners right now. But he can always wear the navy-blue one—he looks great in that one, too.”
“I’d prefer the beige one, so see if you can take care of that, okay? I’ll swing by somewhere around sixish.” Virgil hung up without a good-bye. Typical.
When she replaced the receiver, she could feel Sills staring at her.
“I know this ain’t none of my business, but once again, is something going on with you I should know about?”
“No. Why do you say that?”
“For one, it’s obvious you’re anxious about a certain call. You look kind of rough around the edges this morning too, like you’ve slept in a dog’s bin. Your eyes are all bloodshot and frankly my dear, ‘bad hair day’ is too gentle a phrase for you.”
Jael self-consciously reached up to touch the side of her hair. She had no doubts Sills was telling the truth. She’d taken off right after the frightening call, without looking into a mirror.
Now she thought of heading to the ladies’ room and doing what she could to spruce up, but at the same time she was apprehensive about leaving the phone unattended in case her torturer called again.
Yet, if he had spies all around watching her as he’d claimed, he’d know when to call and when not to.
It suddenly struck Jael that Sills was a white guy. Maybe one she rarely thought of as white—more like a human chameleon—but Caucasian, nonetheless. Could she have spent so much time with Sills and still not really know him? Of course, she told herself, that could be true about anyone, but although she couldn’t recall him ever acting in a racist way on any of the many cases they’d handled together, how could she be sure that what he put out was genuine?
She remembered that soon after they’d met and she received the first promotion, he seemed happy enough, though not completely overjoyed that his new boss was black and a woman. Over the years he’d come to adjust as their friendship grew, but had that been a farce all this time? Or was she just getting paranoid about everything?
“Earth to Detective Reynolds, Earth to Detective . . .”
Jael shook the thoughts from her head as she took in Sills, who was waving a hand back and forth in the air to recapture her attention.
“Hey, where were you? You want to talk about it?”
Jael finally gave Sills a full stare. Folding her hands on her desk, she leaned forward and said, “If I remember correctly, you seemed really surprised to learn there was an active white supremacist group in Dadesville, and not simply your average group of racist nuts.”
Sills leaned farther back in his seat. “Where is this coming from?”
“I mean, you’re a white guy, right? Wouldn’t you have just a little more insight or knowledge about what was going on in the white community?”
“Hey, you’re confusing these guys with human beings. They mingle with normal people but they know who and who not to approach with that mess. I haven’t lived my life with my head in the sand, but honestly, I had no idea we had folks right in our very own town conspiring to serial murder. I just don’t hang with that sort.”
“Never even overheard anything, walked in on a conversation between these kinds of individuals?”
“I’ve heard a few things, yeah, but not among hard-core racists. I’ve heard bad racial jokes and slurs. People who say things out of anger. I’ve even had one or two calls from little old white ladies who swore a black man was following them, but much of that is the nature of the kind of society we live in. Either you believe in the stereotyping or you don’t. You forget that as an officer of the law, we’re required to take tolerance courses.”
“Yeah, but you have to admit, there’s been reported racial profiling in police departments all over this country.”
“But has that been the case here? Mayor White makes sure Captain Slater doesn’t allow that ball game around here. He’s tough-nosed about that.”
Jael thought about this, and about Sills himself. But someone in the department was the eyes and ears for whoever had her son. Jael glanced at the phone again, and decided to head to the ladies’ room now.
“If my phone rings, just let it ring until I return.” She pushed back her chair and rose. “I’m going to take your advice and spruce up a bit.”
“Hey, you don’t have to do it on my account.”
Jael offered him a weak smile and headed for the rest room down the hall. Once there, she couldn’t believe how rough she actually looked. Dark circles swelled under her eyes from all the crying she’d done last night. And her hair . . . well, she’d seen orangutans with better styles.
As she ran a comb through her thick auburn hair and redid the rubber band, her mind kept wondering what Ramon was doing at that moment. Was he crying his heart out, scared out of his mind and begging for her? These thoughts were the worst kind of torture. She needed the Captain. And since he had yet to return her call, she’d have to try and run him down. That could take time—time she didn’t have.
As she reached into her handbag to pull out a tube of lipstick, the door to the ladies’ room opened and Tammy stepped in.
“Hey, Detective. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us, with the media and all. They’re having a field day with these killings. I overheard that CNN was stationed outside,” she said, taking a quick look at herself in the mirror.
“Yeah,” Jael replied without much thought behind it. Then her eyes suddenly widened. Tammy. Why not Tammy? The girl certainly had access to all the phone calls at the department. She could be the one working for these guys.
As Tammy stepped into one of the stalls, Jael turned completely around from the sink and stared at the closed door. She could see Tammy’s high-heeled feet at the bottom of the opening.
“The Captain call back yet?”
“Not yet.”
“That’s really something
about those white supremacists having a murderous group right here in Dadesville, isn’t it?” Jael asked loudly.
“Knocked me for a loop,” Tammy said on the other side of the door. “What do you think’s going to happen to this Upton fellow?”
“Well, lucky for us, Florida law has capital punishment. Can’t say I’m not rooting for them to fry the guy.”
“Well, I don’t really agree with capital punishment. It’s an awesome decision to say who should die or who should live.”
Up until now, that had always been Jael’s perspective: Capital punishment was a decision left to God. She didn’t support it either, but she was trying to feel Tammy out. “So, you think someone who kills people because of the color of their skin should be allowed to live?”
Jael heard the toilet flush, and then Tammy pushed open the door and came over to the sink. “If he’s guilty he should certainly be given life. But death, for killing drug dealers? I just don’t know,” she said, leaning over the sink to rinse her hands off while at the same time pushing back a strand of frosted blond hair from her forehead.
Jael turned to look at Tammy in the mirror. Tammy fluffed her hair a bit more at the bottom and then pulled a tube of bright pink lipstick from her purse.
“Have you ever heard of this group Upton is supposedly associated with?” Jael asked.
“You’d be surprised the number of organizations that crop up for the sole purpose of sticking their noses in the air at other folks. There’s an exclusive country club over in Naples that doesn’t publicly say it, but you won’t find members of anything other than pure Anglo-Saxon there—well, of course, outside of a few janitors.”
It wasn’t a direct answer to her question, leading Jael to consider how little she knew of Tammy’s life outside of the workplace. She knew she had a daughter and had recently divorced, but other than that she had no idea what the woman did for a social life. Tammy knew a lot more about her life than she knew about Tammy’s.
Jael attempted a playful laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re a member?”
“Have to make more money than I do here to join that club.” Tammy gave her hair one more pat. “Well, got to get back to work. Don’t want anyone to think I’m slouching on the job.” With that, she walked out of the rest room.
Jael turned back to the mirror. Tammy had never said she disagreed with the philosophy of the club. It hit Jael like a sledgehammer to realize how little she knew about the people around her. It was humbling to acknowledge how something of this magnitude could suddenly slap her in the face and she had no idea where most of her coworkers stood. Outside of those who’d joined the Bible study group, she had little interaction with them. And she never asked coworkers about their personal lives outside of the office, thinking it would be nosy. Maybe Billups had something when he’d accused her of not being a team player. That didn’t sound like a very sharp detective—more like an alien in her own land.
She’d received her share of hostility when she became an officer of the law, and even a bit more when she was advanced to detective. But the things she overheard about herself were words like “pushy,” “bossy,” or “overachiever,” with very few direct racist hits. That didn’t mean, however, that those words were not used behind her back.
As Jael left the ladies’ room she carefully took in her surroundings, watching her fellow officers stroll back and forth, heading wherever. Some spoke to her in a friendly manner, while those she didn’t know personally passed right by.
When Jael stepped through the doors again, thoughts about her coworkers dominated her mind. Then she froze in place. Billups was standing at her desk, holding her phone to his ear.
Chapter
34
What are you doing?” Jael yelled much too loudly as she rushed up to her desk and snatched the phone from Billups. She covered the mouthpiece with her hand as she glared at him contemptuously.
“Hey, just trying to be helpful,” Billups answered with an insulted snort. “What’s the matter with you?”
Jael had to catch herself. She was overreacting. Though not commonplace, sometimes fellow officers assisted one another by taking their calls.
“Sorry, I guess I’m a little stressed out with this case.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Billups said, throwing his hands up with a scowl of his own as he walked away in a huff.
Jael watched him leave the room before bringing the mouthpiece to her lips and speaking into the phone. “This is Detective Reynolds.”
“Hey, girl, thought I was going to hear about what happened to the boys last night.”
Jael closed her eyes. Rhonda was obviously at work, where she often used the company phone for personal calls. It seemed Jael was getting her own share of personal calls this morning—but not the one she was waiting for.
She flopped wearily into her seat. “Sorry, I got busy and forgot.”
“Yeah, well, I hope you told them a thing or two about leaving that house without telling you.”
“You were right: They’d gone to the corner store for something to eat. I’m going to make sure they remember to leave a note or something next time.” With that, she made a few excuses about being busy, promised to call later and hung up.
Jael looked over at Sills’s empty seat. He was probably out working, like she knew she should be doing. It wasn’t his responsibility to watch her phone. And of all people to come along and assist, Billups was the last person she’d have expected to find at her desk. He’d always been a thorn in her side, and she wouldn’t put it past him to be the one watching her from afar. His very nature seemed to attest that he was more than willing to keep certain people in their places. He had never shown anything but resentment toward her. And he had often used words like “affirmative action” and “quotas” in the negative. Yes, he was a perfect candidate for groups like Upton’s. And she still had yet to ask him what he was doing coming out of the Captain’s office.
Jael sat up in her seat and began writing herself reminder notes. What did Tammy do when she was away from the station; and what about Billups—what was his social life all about? She also wrote down Sills’s and Captain Slater’s names. Right now, no one was above suspicion.
But she had a bigger problem on her hands than whether or not certain people were what they seemed. She had to get that gun. She couldn’t wait much longer for the Captain’s direction.
Rolling back her shoulders, Jael decided not to dwell on it and just do it. She had no other choice.
When she arrived at the property room, an officer other than Manning was behind the cage, filling out forms.
Jael walked up and plunged right in. “Manning off today?”
“Naw,” the gruff-looking officer said. “Just on break.”
“Well, I’m working on the Upton case and I need to have a look at the gun Upton used during the shooting. I’m sending it over to the FDLE to compare the grooves in the barrel to the one found on the bullets of the deceased.” Dear Lord, she was lying like a pro. Oh please forgive me, Lord, but do I have any other choice?
“Like who doesn’t know you’re on the case. But didn’t they get a match on that earlier?”
“Yeah, but you know how we always forget to share information with other departments.”
The officer—Jones, according to his badge—gave her a curious look, then hunched his shoulders. “Yeah, well, it’s your headache, not mine. Wait a sec.”
As Jones moved off to collect the gun, again Jael asked for forgiveness, but more important, for her son to be sent back today. Dear Lord, she was going crazy. How much more of this could she take?
“Here you go. Just sign this sheet, Detective, and you’re all set.”
Jael took the paper he passed through the window, hoping her anxiousness wasn’t apparent. She signed the paper and took the gun, still in its plastic bag. Before she was halfway down the hall, her cell phone rang.
“Good girl—you were followed down to the property room, and came out with
our nice little package all secured.”
Jael quickly glanced around her and stepped as close to the wall as she could get.
“I want to speak to my child now!” she said with as much conviction as possible in a lowered voice.
“And you shall. Just for a moment—to show my good faith and all.”
Jael heard a noise like metal chairs scraping across a wooden floor, and then the voice she lived for.
“Momma, Momma?”
“Ramon, my God, oh baby, are you all right?” “Momma, I wanna come home. When are you going to come get me?”
“Soon, baby, soon, but are you all right? Have they hurt you? Can you—”
The connection was broken, and then the other voice was back. “That’s enough. Now, here is your last job; after that you can have your brat back. You’ve got the gun—now I want you to have Upton released, and to make sure he has the gun on his person when he walks out of there.”
“Are you crazy?” Jael hissed into the phone as she pressed herself even closer to the wall. “I have no authority to have a prisoner released!”
“Oh, you can work something out, I’m sure. Aren’t you the top coon there? Don’t screw with me. Use that so-called brain you’ve got and have our boy released so we can release your boy.”
There it was: the “we” word. Had he slipped before and she’d missed it?
“I can’t do it. You’ve gone too far! I refuse to play any more of your games!” For a moment, hate rose within her, sudden and swift. She spoke her next words through gritted teeth. “You’re messing with the wrong woman!” As the anger swelled inside her, Jael could barely hold her temper. “This charade is over. Now release myson or I’ll personally see to it that your butt fries.”
“So you want to play it like that. Okay, I have someone else who’d like to speak to you.”
For at least thirty seconds, Jael heard nothing. She was afraid they’d decided not to come back on the phone when suddenly she heard another voice on the line.
“Ms. Jael. Ms. Jael! Please get us out of here. I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job of watching Ramon, but we need to—”