Reckoning

by Shakir Rashaan

  The medical examiner shook her head as she tried to hold back tears. She almost looked like she wanted to hold the victim in her arms. “He was dumped here, that is for certain.”

  Her body language tipped me off to a more intimate connection to the victim based on her body language, but I filed that away for a more appropriate time. I had to focus on the task at hand, but I couldn’t avoid the situation altogether; she really didn’t try to hide her true feelings about the deceased, so there was definitely something there that needed to be probed.

  “The body hasn’t been at this location for very long, either. According to the employee inside the convenience store, he heard some noises in the back area, but dismissed it as stray dogs trying to get into the scraps.” Sharpe wiped his brow and flipped through this notepad. “When he came out, he thought the person was drunk and called nine-one-one to report it. It wasn’t until units arrived and they checked the body that the employee realized the victim was dead.”

  Ramesses took a look in the direction of NEBU, the obvious question dying to get out. He did his best to word it in a way that didn’t sound too much, but it was the elephant in the area, and he needed to get it out of the way. “So, if the body was dumped here, what direction could they have come from?”

  The medical examiner pointed toward some bruises on the body that might have provided part of the answer. “Jason was killed by asphyxiation, but these bruises are not consistent with the homicide. You see here, near his chest? And the other bruises on his arms. What do you make of it?”

  Up until that moment, no one spoke the name of the victim, but it was undeniable as to who it was. Though the bruises on his face nearly made him unrecognizable, his build and identifying tattoos of “Truth & Honor” on his right bicep were a dead giveaway as to a positive ID.

  One of the assistant district attorneys—and a good friend—lay dead on the concrete, a victim of one of the most heinous crimes imaginable.

  Now I needed to know how the ME knew who he was when, the last time I checked, he wasn’t exactly dating anyone that we knew about. Considering the discretion Jason used as a member of NEBU, it wasn’t difficult to deduce that he was discreet in a lot of other aspects of his life. This could make things more complicated moving forward.

  Sharpe, after glancing at us and realizing the proximity of where the body was dumped, came to the only conclusion that could have been made. “I hate to say this, Mr. Alexander, but we might need to make a stop by your compound. Considering the wounds and bruises are consistent with S&M play, we have to go where the evidence is leading us.”

  The ME’s look was priceless. I guess the underground advertising was really working; she had no idea NEBU was nearby. That’s exactly the way we wanted it to be. However, the more disturbing prospect was the suggestion that something might have happened on the grounds. The way my security team was set up, there was no way something like that could have happened without one of them knowing about it and alerting me of it, regardless of the time of day.

  Ramesses stepped to Sharpe for a moment, his body language resembling that of someone who was guarded with the words he was about to say. “Detective, I realize the proximity of the body to my compound is an aggravating factor, but I assure you there has been no impropriety.”

  Leave it to the simple legalese to introduce itself into this particular case. Without Allison here, Ramesses had to act in his own interest for the time being. That conversation would be very interesting, to say the least.

  Sharpe was undeterred, as expected. “Kane, I realize you’re protecting your business interests, but I must insist that we investigate further. I don’t think we will find anything, but I would like to eliminate the possibility so we can figure out what prudent direction we should go in.”

  “I don’t think so.” Ramesses remained stoic. He really could be stubborn when the occasion called for it, but I wasn’t sure this was one of those times. “No murder occurred on the grounds; I can promise you that.”

  “That may be so, sir, but respectfully speaking, I’m extending a courtesy by asking you. If you want to do this the other way, all I have to do is make a call.” Sharpe took a hardened stance now, making it clear to Ramesses that we could do things a certain way, based on how Ramesses wanted to proceed. It was a fine line that I walked all the time when it came to people I had a good working relationship with. “How do you want to proceed, sir?”

  Ramesses was not amused by the tone Sharpe was forced to take with him. I stood near him to get into his ear. I spoke in a tone that changed his disposition slightly. “Sir, we have to cooperate with our client, remember? No matter how close to home their investigation leads them to our other business interests.”

  He turned to meet my eyes, nodding at hearing his directive and acknowledging it. He straightened up for a moment, staring Sharpe down to make it clear he was still not happy with the conclusion drawn. “Sharpe, as a professional courtesy, we will open the grounds to you and the medical examiner. But I will be on the property, along with one of my council members, in the interests of being transparent…fair enough?”

  “Fair enough, Mr. Alexander.” Sharpe extended his hand. Ramesses returned the favor, shaking hands with him in a show of good faith. “I had hoped we could come to an agreement. It is appreciated.” With that out of the way, there was another issue that needed to be handled, and a call that needed to be made also. As much as we didn’t want to make the call to the assistant district attorney to alert her of the homicide of her colleague, the call had to be made. She would want to be told, rather than having it get back to her by secondhand channels.

  It wouldn’t make this any easier, though.

  “Should I do the honors, or would you like to, considering the circumstances?” Sharpe understood the delicate nature of the correspondence that needed to be delivered. “I think it might come better from you than me.”

  I exhaled. It probably would come better hearing from me. She’d need the moment or two to grieve and react privately before getting back into work mode. At nearly two in the morning, a familiar voice delivering bad news was not as mentally or physically jarring.

  I dialed her cell phone number, moving to my truck to keep the sirens and activity from drowning out the words I needed to say to let her know a fellow officer of the court—and a close friend—had been killed.

  She tried her best to mask the gravelly nature of her voice, but I didn’t say anything about it. Considering the lateness of the hour, it was completely understandable for her to sound less than her sexy self. “Yes, my Master, how may i serve You?”

  I fought the urge to take the conversation in the direction that her greeting threatened to pull me into. I didn’t want to, but I had a responsibility to make sure she was prepared for what was coming. “Niki, as much as I would love for this call to be sensual and playful, there’s something I need to disclose to the assistant DA.”

  I heard her shifting in her bed, assuming she was sitting up to get her bearings. “What happened, Sir? If this is work-related, why isn’t Sharpe or one of my other detectives calling me right now?”

  The distress in her voice weakened my resolve. No one ever wanted to be the one to have to deliver “the news” to a fellow officer, regardless of the department they work in. I was sure Sharpe didn’t envy my position, but he didn’t exactly volunteer to take it from me, either. “There’s no other way to express this, Niki. We found your co-worker, Jason Matthews, at a location near NEBU. He’s dead, baby girl.”

  The silence over the next few moments made it difficult for me to figure out her state of mind. As officers, we processed loss in different ways; some outward, some inward. It’d been years—nearly a decade—since we’d lost a colleague in the field. There was no way of telling how she would react to this news.

  Seconds later, I got her initial response. “i’ll meet You at the medical examiner’s office in an hour.”

  THREE

  “We need the cameras
pulled from earlier tonight, Sigma.”

  I had hoped the different hoops that Detective Sharpe and the medical examiner had to jump through in order to enter NEBU would have been enough to convince them that there were no improprieties, but I had to remind myself that they were investigating a homicide. At best, this was a minor inconvenience compared to securing a bench warrant at any of the county courthouses.

  “Certainly, Master Ramesses, what time frames do You need to narrow down?” Sigma was ex-military, one of the primary reasons we kept him on the graveyard surveillance team. He could spot any problems and report with nauseating detail. If the incident were significant enough, he would not hesitate to wake me in the middle of the night to alert me. Combine that with the military-styled D/s family that he belonged to, and the strict Domina he served, and he made the perfect candidate to handle anything that came down the pipeline. “I did see something a little off, more so than usual, Sir. I would have contacted You earlier, but once we figured out who accompanied him, we closed out the incident.”

  Ramesses raised an eyebrow. “Who was involved in the incident?”

  “Mr. Matthews, Sir,” Sigma answered. “It was the first time he brought anyone on a guest pass during my shift. Usually, he’s gone before i sign on shift, especially on a weekday. Even the gentleman he was with was odd.”

  That perked Sharpe’s attention. “Do you remember when they showed up?”

  “Yes, sir, in fact, let me pull up the cameras.” He pulled up the cameras at the front entrance, looking at his notes to determine the exact time he noticed. “Yes, here it is. The hood is what alerted me because usually the members wait until after they’ve gotten to the dressing area to suiting up.”

  That was odd, even for NEBU.

  Even odder was the fact that protocol demanded facial recognition before entering the grounds.

  I wasn’t sure about my partner, but I was livid.

  “Were you able to spot them anywhere else inside the main building or on the grounds?” Sharpe asked.

  Sigma looked over at Ramesses, getting the silent nod from him to continue. He shifted to another camera where we got a bird’s-eye view of the public spaces. A few moments later, Jason and the mystery man were engaged in a heavy scene.

  The medical examiner gasped, tipping me to more questions I needed to ask her. The scene hadn’t really unfolded yet and she reacted like a jealous lover being subjected to betrayal against her will. Sharpe cut his eyes in her direction, too. With everything that she’d presumably seen in her career, an S&M scene shouldn’t have her acting like a pre-pubescent virgin.

  I wasn’t really worried about the intensity of the scene. After all, this place had seen its share of heavy scenes over the years that could make even the most hard-core sadist blush. My worry stemmed from noticing that the man in the mask never once removed it.

  Not. One. Time.

  That alone was enough to give me pause. No other identifying marks, no tattoos, no way to trace him.

  Well, thankfully, almost no way to trace him. The beauty of intense scenes like that was there was always some traces of DNA that needed to be scrubbed from the scene. Saliva, skin or hair that might be on the floor; he wasn’t going to get away scot-free, that was for certain.

  “Sigma, has the area been sanitized yet?” I asked, checking the time on my watch. Weekday protocol mandated sanitizing all play areas by 5:00 a.m. and we were coming up on that exact time. I didn’t want evidence to get washed away.

  A couple of mouse clicks later, Sigma answered, “The crew is beginning the sweep now, Sir.”

  Ramesses chimed in. “Have them delay for two hours while Detective Sharpe gets his forensics team in to collect evidence.” He looked at Sharpe, giving him a cold stare. “You can get your team in here in that time frame, yes?”

  Sharpe returned his stare, pulling out his cell phone and keying in a speed dial number. “Cap, I need a forensics team to the following address…yes, sir, it regards the Matthews homicide, due to the delicate nature of the situation and the victim being an officer of the court…thank you, sir. We’ll be waiting.”

  He shut the phone off, continuing the stare-down with Ramesses. Two Alpha males regarding each other with a mutual, grudging respect, neither one willing to give ground to the other.

  If Neferterri or either of their girls were here, they’d be soaking wet right now.

  “Good, now that we have that settled, what’s next on the menu?” I asked, knowing full well what the procedure was, but I was acting like a retired cop—which I was—who was out of the loop.

  “Stop playing, Law, you haven’t been gone that long.” Sharpe’s irritation grew by the moment. “But since you wanna play Columbo, I need the admission records so we can see who was here tonight.”

  If he thought we were toying with him, he might have been on the right track if the trail hadn’t led to NEBU. This hit too close to home to play jokes, but he was getting a little too comfortable with some of his requests, and sooner or later, he was gonna push too far.

  “Now you’re being a bit abusive, Sharpe.” Ramesses played the card that I thought he would have played to suppress the surveillance cameras. “I gave you latitude with the cameras, but the records requests require a bit of righteousness on your part.”

  “Mr. Alexander, I realize the position you’re in, but—”

  “I’m afraid I’m going to insist with this aspect of the investigation.” Ramesses’s eyes darkened, matching the irritation Sharpe still displayed from being stonewalled. “Confidentiality is the one thing I will not compromise.”

  Sharpe rubbed his hands over his face. “I forgot you know what you’re doing, too. I expected this from Law, but you gotta be kidding me?”

  “Yeah, and now that you know, I’ll see you in about forty-eight hours. By then, we’ll have the name you need to continue your investigation.”

  Sharpe’s facial expression gave the impression that he wanted to retort, resigning himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to win this round. He walked out of the room, with the medical examiner following closely. I saw my chance to corner her, so I took it. “Excuse me, Mrs.?”

  “That’s Ms. Terry, detective, but you can call me Collette if you would like.”

  “Ms. Terry, I couldn’t help noticing something while you watched the video. May I be candid?”

  “Very perceptive, sir, and yes, Mr. Matthews and I were seeing each other, but we kept it discreet.” She caught me off guard with the level of candor she was forthright with. I half expected to hear her deny everything and give me grief along the way. “Obviously there were other things being kept discreet from me. I feel like such an idiot.”

  Realizing that Sharpe wouldn’t be privy to this conversation, I used the latitude to pick her brain apart, but it wasn’t going to happen on the premises. “Would you like to talk over drinks, maybe coffee after you’re off your shift? Maybe you can get some things off your chest?”

  She stared at me, her eyes regarding my motives, assessing my appeal to her palette. “Off the record, right? This doesn’t get back to my superiors or anything.”

  “You have my word, Ms. Terry.”

  “If you keep calling me Ms. Terry, I’d be less inclined to have coffee with you,” Collette disclosed. “You’ll make me think the mic is still hot.”

  “Trust me, Collette, there are a lot of things that are hot on me, but there are no mics on me.” I emphasized my point by doing a mock pat-down from my shoulders to my ankles.

  A smile spread across her face. “Okay, detective, I’ll have coffee with you. I’m off in a few hours; I’ll call you at that time.”

  I left her to head back to my truck, receiving a text message from Ayanna that alerted me to head back to the office for a moment or two. I needed some down time anyway, especially after the early morning activity that happened way too early, in my opinion.

  If for nothing else, I needed the distraction. I had a feeling this case would be taxi
ng on Niki, and I needed to be sharper than usual to keep her emotions as balanced as I could possibly muster. She would want justice for Jason, and Jason wouldn’t have wanted her as anything less than her best.

  Whoever this man was that killed Jason, I hoped he had his insurance paid up. The entire Fulton County law enforcement division would spare no expense or manpower in finding out who he was and taking him down.

  If I didn’t get to him first.

  FOUR

  “Daddy, there’s someone on the line for you.”

  “Who is it, Ayanna?”

  “She won’t say, Sir. All she would tell me was that it’s of the utmost importance. Should I patch her through?”

  I was already on the phone, taking care of a minor issue up in the DMV with one of the compounds, Thebes, so I wasn’t sure I wanted to take a blind call from someone that didn’t want to identify herself to my executive assistant. My instincts told me not to entertain it until I had more information, but I couldn’t take the chance. In this business, something like that could cost lives. “Patch her through, baby.”

  I waited for Ayanna to transfer the call, wondering who the mystery woman was on the other line, and more importantly, how she knew me. “This is Law.”

  “Detective Law, thank you for taking my call.” The woman’s voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place her, nor could I picture her face. “I need to speak with you regarding a matter of some urgency.”

  “Time is money, Ms. …?”

  “Ashton. Serena Ashton.”

  The last name had my immediate attention. The Ashtons were one of the many prominent black families in Atlanta. Along with the usual family names that got tongues wagging in this city, if anything happened of an ominous nature that could create negative press, it was a given that they would want to have this handled as discreetly as possible.