Murder on the Down Low

by Pamela Samuels Young

  “So it disturbs me when someone under my command does something really stupid.”

  J.C.’s jaw tensed, but she didn’t say a word. The disk! He had found out that she had switched the disks. But how? Her mind frantically searched for a valid defense to the accusation that was about to be leveled at her.

  “I just got off the phone with a hysterical woman who claims that you showed up at her house and tried to intimidate her into saying that one of the ministers at the most respected black church in this city is a fa—” He cracked his knuckles. “Excuse me. A homosexual.”

  The tension that had tightened every muscle in J.C.’s body slowly eased away. “I didn’t try to intimidate her. And I had a very good reason for questioning Belynda Davis about the ministers at Ever Faithful.” She was about to explain but the lieutenant cut her off.

  “If I recall correctly, I told you that you were off the case, didn’t I, Detective?”

  She nodded, but hoped that the end justified the means. She proceeded to tell him about Belynda’s visit to the jail and her slip about protecting someone at the church.

  “Son of a bitch!” His face contorted. “I don’t believe this shit. You tellin’ me one of the ministers at Ever Faithful is a sissy?”

  She started to correct him, but let it go. “It could be, Lieutenant.”

  “Son of a bitch!” He reached for a Snickers from his candy dish. “The fact that you had a good reason for talking to that woman doesn’t get you off the hook,” he admonished. “You should’ve given that information to Jessup to follow up on. It wouldn’t look good if the press knew that an LAPD detective was investigating a case in which one of her friends was the chief suspect. That could cost both of us our jobs.”

  J.C. nodded again.

  “But I have another problem with you, Detective.” His eyes hardened. “A much, much bigger one.”

  J.C. swallowed, not knowing what was coming next.

  “I understand you made a visit to the property room a few days ago.”

  J.C. tried not to move. Cops were trained to pick up visual cues from suspects. She didn’t want to give off any.

  “Yeah,” J.C. said slowly. Most guilty people talked too much. She wasn’t about to do that.

  “Did you happen to remove any evidence pertaining to the Nelson case?”

  J.C. knew she’d been caught. But how could he know? Her only impulse at the moment was to deny, just like a common criminal. “What are you talking about, Lieutenant?”

  “You were very, very sloppy, Detective. Even though that lazy fuck, Nick, let you in the property room unescorted, you weren’t quite as slick as you thought you were. You forgot to do a visual check before you switched those disks. The one that was originally in the camera we confiscated from your buddy’s apartment had a tiny nick on the side. The disk you replaced it with was in mint condition.”

  J.C. didn’t bother to stop her hands from fidgeting, nor did she try to offer up another denial. She was about to lose her job. Her life.

  “If I were a different kind of guy, I’d have Internal Affairs in here right now. But you’re a good cop. Too good to have done such a stupid thing.”

  J.C. just wanted him to lower the boom. She had been stupid. She wondered if she could convince him to let her quietly resign.

  “I examined that camera and the disk last week before a meeting I had with the captain. And I distinctly remember that nick. When I asked who’d checked out the evidence bag since then, lo and behold, it was you.”

  J.C. flexed her fingers. She just wanted him to get it over with.

  “I would’ve expected something like this from Jessup, not you.” Lieutenant Wilson didn’t speak for a long time. His way of extending the punishment. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to give me the other disk and I’m going to switch them back. I should be telling you to clean out your desk, but I’m going to do you a big favor. I’m going to let you keep your job.”

  J.C. exhaled audibly. “Thank you, Lieutenant. I really appreciate—”

  “I don’t want to hear it. All I want from you is a promise that you won’t risk your career by doing any more stupid shit. You’re not the first cop to do something foolish to save somebody you care about and you’re not the first one to get caught. But don’t let it happen again. And by the way, they won’t be able to restore the pictures. It has something to do with the type of disk. So you risked your career for nothing.”

  J.C. felt incredibly grateful that she still had her job. But she felt equally distraught about the possibility that Special could be convicted of a crime she didn’t commit. She couldn’t leave it up to Jessup to find the real killer. She had to do it.

  “Uh . . . I know I have some nerve asking this,” she began, “but I think I’m close to breaking the case. Could I have just a couple of days to investigate this lead? I promise I’ll pass on everything I find to Jessup.”

  The lieutenant gave her a flabbergasted look. “You’re lucky you—”

  “Lieutenant, my friend’s about to be railroaded for a murder she didn’t commit. If I don’t have a suspect for you in a week, then I’m done.”

  “A week? I thought you just said a couple of days? That’s forty-eight hours where I come from.”

  “How about a week?”

  He frowned. “Here’s the best I can do, Detective. Officially, you’re still off the case. Now if you continue to investigate unbeknownst to me, you’re on your own. So if things blow up in your face, my story will be that you disregarded a direct order.”

  J.C. smiled. “Thanks, Lieutenant.”

  “But a week from today, it’s over. After that, you’re to have nothing to do with the investigation. Officially or unofficially.”

  She nodded.

  “I hope you can dig up something to clear your buddy. But keep it legal, Detective.” He cracked his knuckles. “Now get outta here.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” she said rising.

  “You’re welcome.”

  J.C. was almost at the door. “So, I guess we’re even now, huh?” the lieutenant said.

  “Even?” J.C. looked back at him.

  “Yeah, even,” he replied. “The rumors about all the vics being sissies is finally hitting the streets and a couple of gay leaders are calling for an investigation. They claim the Department knew weeks ago that a killer was targeting homosexual men, but intentionally failed to notify the public because we didn’t care if a few homos got killed. But, of course, you and I know that’s not true.”

  Now J.C. understood why the lieutenant was being so lenient with her.

  “I don’t want or need any heat over this crap. And as far as I know, I’m the only one in the Department you discussed your little theory with. Am I right?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay, then,” the lieutenant said with a smirk. “Here’s the deal. I’ll keep your transgressions a secret as long as you do the same regarding mine.”

  Chapter 104

  Don’t look now,” Jefferson said, “but your home girl just walked in.”

  Vernetta and Jefferson were standing near the bar at the Chart House restaurant in Marina Del Rey waiting for a table.

  Vernetta did not bother to look. She could tell by the sarcasm in Jefferson’s voice that whoever he had just spotted was probably someone she didn’t want to see.

  She took a sip of her Diet Coke. “And exactly who is my home girl?”

  A smile stretched across Jefferson’s face. “Golden Girl. The one who’s rocking O’Reilly’s world.”

  Haley was the last person Vernetta wanted to see. She finally turned and looked over her shoulder. Haley was talking to the maitre d, probably trying to get a table without waiting her turn like everybody else, Vernetta thought. Standing next to her was a scrawny woman about a foot shorter than Haley with frilly hair and a bland, square face. Anybody who looked at the pair wouldn’t even see the woman. Haley’s shiny blond hair was perfectly coiffed and she was dressed in a
slinky red wrap dress that accentuated her small waist.

  Haley turned away from the maitre d’s stand and her eyes met Vernetta’s. The look Haley conveyed was pure spite.

  Vernetta turned back to her husband.

  “Dang. She definitely gave you a look to kill,” Jefferson said. “What was that all about?”

  Vernetta couldn’t help but smile. “I guess O’Reilly must have spilled the beans.”

  “About what?”

  “I got a call from a company that was planning to hire Haley. They asked me what I thought of her and I told the truth. Maybe she didn’t get the job.”

  “Aw, man, that’s cold. You actually dogged the girl out?”

  “I didn’t do anything but tell the truth.”

  A man sitting at the end of the bar got up and Vernetta took his seat while Jefferson remained standing, resting his forearm on the bar.

  “Uh-oh,” Jefferson teased. “I think there’s about to be some fireworks up in here. Golden Girl is on her way over.”

  Before Vernetta could brace herself, Haley was standing in front of her, up close and personal. Way too close.

  “Thanks a lot,” Haley said, swiping a curl behind her ear. “I guess you feel pretty good about yourself now.”

  Jefferson’s face filled with amusement.

  Vernetta had to fight to keep the smile off of her own face. It felt great knowing that she was the reason Haley was so rattled. “First, you need to back up out of my personal space. And second, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  When Haley didn’t move, her homely friend glanced about the crowded bar area, as if to assure herself that no one was paying attention to the mounting confrontation.

  “I didn’t appreciate you lying about me to Vista Electronics. You were probably just mad that they weren’t trying to recruit you. But that’s fine. I’ll get another job.”

  “I didn’t lie about you, Haley. I told the truth.” Vernetta set her glass on the bar. “So, you didn’t get the job? I’m really sorry to hear that.”

  Haley looked as if she wanted to swing on her and Vernetta secretly hoped that she did. She would love to have a reason to slug the girl. With all these witnesses, it would be a slam dunk case of self-defense.

  “Like I said, I’ll get another job,” Haley repeated. “Just remember, it’s a small world. You better hope I’m never in a position to recommend you.”

  Vernetta laughed genuinely. “I certainly doubt that will ever happen. I’m surprised that you left the firm before your offer from Vista Electronics was firm. That wasn’t too smart.”

  “I had to leave right away because my father was ill. Unlike you, who left because you realized they’d never make you a partner. If my father hadn’t gotten ill, I definitely would’ve made it.”

  The comment stung, but Vernetta took it in stride. “You’re right, Haley. You definitely would’ve made partner. Giving the managing partner blow jobs in the office made you a shoo-in.”

  Haley gasped while her friend looked as if she was about to swallow her tongue.

  Jefferson raised his glass to his lips and winked at the bartender. Both of them were psyched up for a girl fight.

  “Just be glad I’m mature enough to ignore the vicious rumors people were spreading about me. I wondered who started them. Well, now, I guess I know.”

  “Get real. I have far better things to do than sit around talking about you. If you didn’t want people gossiping about you, you should’ve chosen a less public place to carry on your affair.”

  Haley’s cheeks were now the same rosy red as her puckered lips.

  “Why don’t we get a drink?” Haley’s plain-Jane friend put a hand on her arm and tried to pull her away. Haley shook free.

  Vernetta was actually surprised at Haley’s bravado. If Special had been here, she would have jumped in by now and the two of them would’ve been rolling around on the floor. As much fun as she was having seeing Haley so upset, it was time to end this before things got out of hand.

  “I’m trying to enjoy an evening out with my husband. So if you don’t mind . . .”

  Almost thirty seconds passed as they silently squared off at each other.

  “Just remember, what goes around, comes around.” Haley stalked off.

  “That’s a bold little white girl,” Jefferson chuckled as he watched her walk away. “You better be glad y’all didn’t meet up in an alley. She mighta kicked your ass.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Your average white girl wouldn’t have had the balls to do that to a sister.” Jefferson finished the last drop of his drink. “Dang. A white girl with a sister’s ass and a sister’s attitude. Where’d she grow up?”

  Now, Vernetta was ready to slug her husband, too. “That wasn’t funny, Jefferson.”

  He laughed. “Wasn’t meant to be. Don’t get mad at me because Golden Girl jumped all in your stuff.”

  “Be quiet.”

  Jefferson slid his empty glass toward the bartender. “How about a refill? And this time, can you put enough alcohol in it for me to taste?” He turned back to Vernetta. “I was serious. Where’s Haley from? Jersey? Philly? Detroit? She definitely grew up around some black folks.”

  Before Vernetta could tell him she didn’t want to hear another word about the girl, the maitre’d called Haley’s name. As Haley marched over, she whipped around and hurled an exaggerated smirk Vernetta’s way.

  “That’s bull! We were here before her.” Vernetta hopped off the bar stool, but Jefferson grabbed her by the arm.

  “Just let it go.”

  “No, we were—”

  “Golden Girl obviously has the kind of juice that we don’t. Anyway, I wanna finish my drink.”

  Vernetta folded her arms. “Fine, then,” she said, annoyed that she let Haley get under her skin.

  But the encounter had served one good purpose. Vernetta no longer felt a shred of guilt about telling Vista Electronics the truth about Haley. She was glad the girl didn’t get the job.

  Vernetta smiled. At least one thing Haley said tonight turned out to be right on the mark. What goes around, most definitely comes around.

  Chapter 105

  J.C. was in such a hurry to get back to her desk, she side-swiped another officer in the hallway.

  “Sorry,” she called out without slowing down.

  With only a week before she’d be kicked off the case, J.C. had no time to waste. Lamont and Ken were still on her radar, but she was now convinced that the killer could very well be a minister at Ever Faithful.

  J.C. resumed her research with Bishop Berry. Every article she printed from the Internet described him as the epitome of integrity. She even made a few calls which further confirmed that fact. She found very few articles about Reverend Hooks and Reverend Charles, but when she got to Reverend Sims, she felt like an idiot. His ties to the victims were so clear that the connection should have been made weeks ago. How had she missed it?

  After only a few hours of research, J.C. had linked Reverend Sims to four of the six murdered men. According to Belynda, Eugene was a member of Ever Faithful and Reverend Sims had counseled him on at least a couple of occasions. The reverend served as team minister to the Fox Hill Tigers, Nathan Allen’s junior college team. On Allen’s MySpace page she found a photograph of the running back in the locker room with several other players. In the background she spotted a smiling Reverend Sims. Prior to becoming a full-time minister, the good reverend worked as an engineer at Raycom, the same company where the first victim worked. And not only was Reverend Sims a friend and neighbor of James Hill, the investment banker, he was the last person to see him alive. Even the car Special followed the night she trailed Eugene back to his house matched the reverend’s car.

  J.C. knew that if she kept digging, she’d probably find that Reverend Sims had ties to the remaining two murdered men: Dr. Banks, the Inglewood doctor, and the latest victim, a successful real estate broker who was discovered in the park across from Speci
al’s apartment.

  Sims’ connections to the four victims could not be dismissed as mere coincidence. It didn’t prove that the reverend had killed the men, but his ties to so many of them were the first bread crumbs on a trail that J.C. was sure would lead straight to him.

  She just needed some hard evidence before she could take her suspicions to the lieutenant. He wouldn’t make a move to arrest Reverend Sims without a rock solid case against him.

  She decided to show the reverend’s picture to Carole, the sister-in-law of Dr. Banks, and to the clerk at the Marina Marriott to see if they recognized him. Was Reverend Sims sleeping with the men, then killing them? If so, they were dealing with a dangerous psychopath.

  She copied a picture of Reverend Sims from the Internet, then went to Records and found photographs of men with similar physical traits and created a photographic lineup. If the two women picked out Reverend Sims, that would be enough to have him brought in for questioning. She just hoped the lieutenant agreed.

  J.C. had just returned to her desk and grabbed her purse when her cell phone signaled that she had a message.

  “We may’ve finally caught a big break in the Nelson case,” she heard Detective Jessup say. “We got a call on the tip line. A waiter at the Marie Callender’s Grill in the Howard Hughes Promenade claims Eugene and another man had dinner together the evening before he was killed. I’m stuck in the Valley interviewing a witness in another case. Get over there and talk to the guy. And remember, I’m only letting you in on this because I’m a nice guy. If you come up with something, it’s mine, not yours.”

  J.C. hung up. “Prick.”

  As she drove to the restaurant, she struggled to keep her emotions in check, which was not something she had to do very often. The information she was about to gather could very well spring Special from jail. Before leaving the station, she had added a picture of Lamont, which she found on his MySpace page, to the photographic lineup that she now planned to also show to the waiter. Despite all the evidence pointing to Reverend Sims, J.C. wasn’t ready to dismiss Lamont and his lover Ken from the list of suspects just yet.