No Stone Unturned

by C. J. Johnson

  “Sheetrock crumbs?”

  “Yeah, apparently he tried to sell the sheetrock crumbs as crack to the girls. They took the baggie and once they realized it wasn’t real crack they confronted him. He got mouthy so they shot him. They claim they didn’t know the dope was in the car but they were charged with possession as well as murder. A security guard was watching the cameras and saw the whole damn thing. He called 9-1-1 but it was too late to save Terrence. The girls were apprehended a couple blocks away.”

  “Damn.”

  Frankie finished the line-up just as Mia was parking the car in front of the laundromat. She grabbed her notepad and recorder and the two walked inside. Asia was sitting at the same folding table she had been sitting at when Frankie and Mia picked her up and transported her to the hospital a couple months before.

  “Miss Asia, do you remember us?”

  Mia and Frankie sat at the table across from Brooklyn’s mother. Asia’s gold eyes bored into Frankie’s.

  “Yeah, you’re Brooklyn’s friend. You didn’t get him off the street yet.”

  Exasperated Frankie answered, “No ma’am. We haven’t.” She reached across the table and touched Asia’s dark, espresso-colored hands, and with a softer voice said, “We could use your help.”

  Asia looked from Mia to Frankie and said, “What do you want to know.”

  “Can you tell us what happened the night you were attacked?”

  “And I won’t get in any trouble?”

  “No ma’am. We don’t care if you were trying to make a date or score dope. We care about what happened to you.”

  Asia took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. She looked around the laundromat to see if anyone else was in the store.

  Mia noticed her hesitation and asked, “Miss Asia, do you want to go somewhere else and talk?”

  “No, here’s as good a place as any. Floyd is the only one here and he’s listening to the T.V.”

  Frankie pulled out the recorder and explained the process to Asia. Once she was certain Asia understood Frankie said, “Tell us what you remember. How you remember it.”

  “It was November. I don’t remember the date but it was the day before you came and found me. I was using again. I promise I didn’t lie to Brooklyn. I was clean for almost three months, but then I went to a party. One of my friends gave me a hit from a pipe and it was downhill from there.

  “That night I was hurtin’ and lookin’ for a fix. I was walkin’ down Prospect when this guy in a little silver car pulled up and asked me if I was working. I told him I wasn’t. I wasn’t planning to turn any tricks that night. I had a friend who said he’d hook me up on credit so I was walking to his place. The guy called me a stupid whore and pulled away. I didn’t really pay attention to where he went.” With a crack in her voice she said, “I should have.”

  Asia removed a tissue from her bag and blew her nose. Tears glistened in her eyes but never fell down her cheeks.

  “I was only about a block away from my friend’s house when the dude came back. But this time when he pulled up next to me he pulled a gun out and told me to get in the car. I started to say something but then I heard the gun cock. He was fucking serious. He was going to shoot me if I didn’t get in the car. I pulled the car door open and got in…I didn’t want to die.

  “He drove down a couple of side streets then pulled down an alley and parked. He told me to get in the backseat but I didn’t move. He started yelling at me; calling me names. I didn’t care. I wasn’t getting into that back seat. He got out and opened the back door, grabbed me by the hair, and yanked me into the back of his car. I fought him, but eventually he got me back there. That’s when he started punching me. I don’t know how many times he hit me, but I’m pretty sure I passed out. When he was done doing what he wanted to do to me he grabbed me by the feet and pulled me out of the car. He left me in a pile, half naked, in the alley. As he drove away I saw my bag and some clothes fly out the window.”

  “Do you think you’d be able to take us to the alley?”

  Asia didn’t immediately answer. She fumbled with the tissue in her hands then said, “I can try.”

  Mia and Frankie looked at one another and nodded. Frankie said, “Let’s go for a ride.”

  Chapter 36

  “Before we start driving I want to show you a few pictures and see if you recognize the man that hurt you.” Frankie had left the recorder on while they sat in the front seat of the car.

  Asia looked at the photographs on the computer carefully before saying, “I’m not sure. I don’t want to pick the wrong guy.”

  Frankie looked at Mia who was watching from the back seat. “Take your time Miss Asia. Does one look more like him than the other?”

  Asia touched the computer screen before saying, “Maybe number four, but I’m not for sure. It was dark and these pictures are just too small.”

  “That’s okay. Let’s see if we can find the alley.”

  Frankie was disappointed Asia didn’t give a positive I.D. but was glad she picked Sawyer as the one who looked most like the guy that attacked her. Asia directed Frankie to Prospect and ultimately to where she was forced into the car. Once they got onto side streets Asia was less confident giving directions. After about ten minutes she scooted forward in the seat and started tapping the dash. Before Frankie could point out another alley, Asia screeched, “That’s it. That’s the alley.”

  Frankie stopped, but before she could put the car in park Asia jumped out and started racing down the dark alley.

  She stopped about midway down the alley and exclaimed, “He parked right about here.”

  Frankie and Mia rushed to Asia’s location.

  “He pulled me out of the car here,” she pointed to an area about three feet from where she stood. “Over there – shine your flashlight over there!”

  Frankie shone her light in the area Asia was pointing. On the ground was a pair of panties and a sock. Was it possible after all this time they were Asia’s?

  “Those are mine!” Asia shouted.

  She moved towards the items when Mia shouted, “Wait, don’t touch those!”

  Asia gave her a puzzled look.

  “We want to take some photographs and collect them as evidence,” Frankie explained. “Are you certain these are yours?”

  Asia’s shoulders slumped forward. She nodded in understanding. She stood next to Frankie and said, “Shine your light.”

  Frankie did as Asia asked.

  “See that?” She pointed at a black mark near the waistband, “If you pick them up you’ll see they have an A on them. I sometimes do laundry at the Shower House on 12th Street and have to mark my clothes so no one steals them.”

  Frankie nodded, put her hand on Asia’s shoulder and said, “That’s great Miss Asia. This is really going to help.”

  Asia released a deep sigh and smiled.

  “Let’s see if Crime Scene can come out and get some good photos…I don’t think our camera will give us what we need in this lighting.”

  “I’ll go make the call,” Mia said.

  Chapter 37

  “Where can we take you Miss Asia?”

  The Crime Scene Unit had just finished and Frankie didn’t want to leave Asia out on the streets in the cold.

  “I’ll be fine. I have some friends I can crash with.”

  “We can take you there if you want.”

  “You can drop me back at the laundromat. Floyd said he would stay open ‘til I got back. I’ll meet up with my friends later.”

  Frankie suspected Asia didn’t have anywhere to go, or any friends to stay with, but she couldn’t force her to go to a shelter.

  Frankie and Mia dropped Asia at the laundromat. Looking at the clock on the car radio Mia asked, “It’s almost 10, still want to try and find Tre’s mother?”

  Tapping her fingers on the steering wheel Frankie said, “Yeah, let’s close the loop on this.”

  The drive to Georgia Stockton’s house was brief. They were surprised to
see a porch and living room light illuminated. It was almost as though she were expecting them. The door was answered on the first knock. A broad woman, wearing a pale blue robe, filled the doorway.

  “What took you so long,” was the gruff greeting.

  “Um, are you Miss Stockton? Trayvon Stockton’s mother?”

  “Yeah. What do y’all want?”

  Frankie took a step closer and asked, “It’s a bit chilly, may we come inside?”

  Georgia stepped aside and led the women to her living room. “You can have a seat here,” pointing towards the plastic-covered sofa.

  “Did your brother call you today?” Mia asked.

  “No, but my son did. Said you all locked him up for nothin’.”

  Mia opened her notepad and said, “Ma’am, we didn’t lock him up for nothing. He was arrested on a Jackson County failure to appear warrant and a Kansas City bench warrant. He didn’t go to court or pay his fines so the judge issued warrants.”

  Slightly mollified, Georgia said, “I thought he took care of those. But they don’t send detectives for that. What do y’all want with him?”

  Frankie looked around the tidy living room, stopping on the photo of Georgia with two men she assumed were her brothers. Flanking the photograph were images of Trayvon at various ages. He looked like a sweet boy.

  “What made him change?” Frankie wondered to herself. Aloud she asked, “Miss Stockton, do you know Cheyenne Connor?”

  “Cheyenne who? Oh wait, you mean that girl from the Fast Stop over on 75th?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “She’s a good girl. Why you asking ‘bout her?”

  “She said Trayvon came into the store and threatened her. Said he told her he was going to kill her.”

  Georgia smoothed the robe covering her legs, picking at invisible lint. She looked up and said, “I don’t think my boy would do that. He always liked Cheyenne. In fact, I think he kind of has a crush on her.”

  “Miss Stockton, do you remember seeing Tre on Saturday?”

  Georgia didn’t hesitate, “I was with my cousin Latisha in Topeka this weekend. I left before breakfast and didn’t get back until Sunday afternoon.”

  “Did Tre stay here while you were out of town?”

  “I don’t like him to stay here while I’m gone.”

  “Is there anywhere you can think of he might have stayed? Another relative’s house?”

  Georgia took the strap of her robe and began running it through her fingers. She sat quietly for a few moments then said, “His daddy’s sister. He might have stayed at her house.”

  Frankie and Mia looked at one another then back to Georgia. Mia asked, “What is her name and where does she live?”

  “Aurelia Williams. Her brother, Von, is Trayvon’s daddy. But he’s been dead since Tre was a baby. She lives down by Grandview. Off Bannister Road. Why you askin’?”

  “Miss Stockton, another woman made some allegations against Tre. She said he kidnapped her in Westport. He drove her around and took her to a house and raped her.”

  Georgia sucked in her breath and put her hand to her chest, “My baby ain’t no rapist. He ain’t even got no girlfriend. Who’s this girl?”

  “We can’t give you her name ma’am.”

  “Bitch’s probably just upset he didn’t call her after they had sex.”

  “We showed Tre a photo of her and he claims he’d never seen her before. In fact, he said he didn’t associate with her kind.”

  Looking up, she asked, “Is that girl white?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” answered Frankie.

  “Then she’s wrong. My boy didn’t have nothing to do with it. He doesn’t associate with white girls. We don’t associate with them.”

  “That’s what he said,” said Frankie. As she started to put her notepad back inside her bag she asked, “You said he didn’t have a girlfriend, but he said he was at his girlfriend Mona’s house Saturday night.”

  Georgia stuttered, “That’s not possible. Mona…um…she’s gone to be with the angels.”

  “What happened to her?” Frankie asked.

  “There was a fire at the house while she was babysitting. Tre was there. He got the little girl out but he couldn’t get back inside to get Mona.”

  “How scary. How long ago was that?”

  “I’m not sure. A month or two.”

  “Did they ever figure out what caused the fire?”

  Georgia was beginning to get irritated, “Why you so interested in a fire?”

  “No reason, just curious. We best be going ma’am. Thank you for your time.” Once the door was closed and they were out of earshot Frankie said, “Damn I wish it wasn’t so late. I’d love to pay Miss Williams a visit.”

  Mia looked at her watch, “Yeah, 1030 is probably a bit too late for a knock and talk. Let’s do it tomorrow. What do you think about the fire?”

  “I think we need to talk to Bomb and Arson and make sure it wasn’t homicide.”

  Chapter 38

  “You need a ride?”

  Ciara looked at the gold Honda and the man sitting in the driver’s seat. With a smile she said, “I don’t talk to strangers.”

  “Then let’s not be strangers,” was the man’s easy response.

  Ciara shook her head, laughed, and continued to walk.

  The Honda continued to creep forward. “I just thought you might need a ride. You don’t want to be late.”

  Ciara looked at her watch. She was going to miss first period and would end up in detention if she didn’t hurry up. And he looked harmless. He had to be her dad’s age.

  “My school’s just down the street.”

  The man nodded. Once she was inside the car, he mumbled, “If you think I’m driving you to school you’re stupid.”

  “Let me out of the car,” screamed Ciara. She reached inside her sweatshirt pocket for her cellphone. When she realized she didn’t have it she started to cry.

  At the sight of her tears, he backhanded her and yelled, “Shut the fuck up.”

  After about ten minutes, the car pulled into an apartment complex. It was still early. There were people walking around on their way to school and work. Ciara looked around the parking lot and thought, “Maybe I can yell for help.”

  As if he could read her mind, the man turned to her and said, “If you make a sound, or try to run, I’ll shoot you.”

  The man stepped out of the car and walked around the front to the passenger side. Ciara saw the grip of a handgun sticking out of the back of his pants. He opened the door and drug Ciara out of the car. He half-pulled, half-drug her to the entrance of the apartment. At the door, he used a key and pushed Ciara inside.

  Ciara scanned the living room and tidy kitchen. The couch had decorative pillows but she didn’t see a television. She eyed the telephone hanging on the wall. If she could get to it and call 9-1-1 the police would come.

  Shoving Ciara down the hall he said, “Don’t even think about it bitch.”

  The man pushed her into the bedroom and shoved her face down onto the bed. Ciara’s face and nose were pressed into the bedspread. She pressed her hands into the bed and tried to push herself back up.

  Shoving her back down he said, “Don’t move bitch.”

  He pulled on her clothes, exposing her young body. Ciara twisted and pushed against him. She tried to yell for help, but he shoved her face into a pillow.

  “I. Can’t. Breathe.” Her voice was muffled.

  Grabbing her by the hair he pulled her up off the pillow and said, “Shut the fuck up!”

  He flipped her body over and covered her mouth with his hand. Ciara watched him pull the gun from his waistband and lay it next to her head. She moved her hand slightly towards the gun. He grabbed her hands and held onto them with one of his. With his free hand, he pulled her pants off and tried to penetrate her. Ciara twisted her body and opened her mouth to scream. Before any sounds escaped he grabbed a pillow.

  “If you yell I’m going to shove this in
your mouth!”

  Ciara looked at his face. His steely gaze bore into hers. She laid there in silence. When he finished he let go of her hands, stood up, and grabbed his gun.

  “Put your clothes on.”

  Ciara just laid there and watched him put his pants back on, returning the gun to his waistband. He grabbed Ciara by the hair and made her sit up.

  Throwing her clothes at her he said, “I said get your clothes on. And don’t even think about leaving anything behind.”

  Ciara stared at him with wild eyes. Her hands trembled in fear. When she was finished getting dressed, he pushed her out of the apartment and back to his car. He drove a few blocks, made a series of turns, before finally coming to a stop in an alley. When he got out of the car to get Ciara she noticed the nametag hanging from the mirror.

  “Allen,” whispered Ciara.

  Reaching the passenger door, he opened it and pulled her from the car by the hood of her sweatshirt. “If you say anything to anyone I’ll find you and kill you.” With those words, Allen got back into the car and drove away.

  Ciara watched the car turn and drive out of sight. She slowly walked up the alley but hesitated at the street. She looked both ways, scanning for a payphone. As she started to walk towards a phone in a store parking lot she noticed the Honda parked across the street. Ciara made eye contact with Allen. He held up a finger and simulated a gun before pulling the car out of the lot.

  Ciara walked up and down the street, unsure where to go or what to do. She gravitated towards the phone, but each time she got close she thought she saw the Honda and kept walking. After the third time seeing the car she stopped walking and sat on the bench at the bus stop. Ciara kept her hands buried in the pockets of her sweatshirt, shivering in the cold.

  The bus stop was on the outskirts of the grocery store parking lot. Ciara’s face burned and her hands ached from the cold. She hadn’t seen the gold Honda in more than an hour so she decided to go inside the store to get warm. She wandered up and down the aisles of the store, not really looking at anything. When she started her third path around the store she noticed she was being followed by a security guard.