Deviant Intent: OBSESSION

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Deviant Intent: OBSESSION Page 3

by Shakir Rashaan


  I blinked a little at that; Sherrie, my ex, is an executive assistant. Sin proved her words were carefully chosen by following up.

  “When was the last time You got to play, Dominic? I mean, without Your mentor setting up the submissive for You?”

  Months… Sherrie had decided to move on to harder pastures and I’d been without since then. Well, except for Ramesses’ familiars.

  “Keep them away how, Ma’am?”

  “Help them close this episode quickly. Ramesses knows how important this is as well, so, don’t be surprised if He starts to put some pressure on as well. Thank You for coming, Dominic. Don’t worry about the bill, it’s My treat.”

  While I appreciated the gesture, I still left a twenty on the table for her to use as a gratuity for the waiter. It wasn’t that I was insulted by her offer, but it’s the man in me. I feel like I have to pay for something.

  I headed out to the parking garage and gave the valet my claim ticket when my cell phone rang. The number registered as my old precinct. Who the hell would be calling me from there?

  “Detective Law?” a female voice was on the end of the phone. She sounded very business-like, but there was an underlying tone that I couldn’t quite place or understand.

  “I’m no longer Detective Law, who is this?” I answered gruffly, still a little disturbed from my meeting with Sinsual.

  “Mr. Law, this is Detective Natasha Reddick, just assigned to your old precinct. I have a DOA you may be interested in.”

  “Why would I be interested?” I asked, growing more disturbed by the minute. “All my cases were handled before I resigned.”

  “Well, the victim was raped and killed, definitive signs of a ritualistic homicide. I was told that you were the P.I. to contact in these matters,” she started.

  Now that was weird to hear. I wasn’t in the business of ritualistic homicides.

  I haven’t been gone from the precinct a year, and already I’m drawing a reputation?

  “Who is on the case?” I asked her, agitation showing in my voice.

  “I am,” Detective Reddick answered.

  “Then I am sure you have it all under control, Detective. If there is anything outside of the ritualistic tendencies, then call me,” I didn’t mean to be rude, but there was no way in hell that I was about to take on two cases at one time. Too time consuming, for starters, and there was no money in taking a case for Fulton.

  “Sir, Captain figured you needed to see the body,” she insisted, almost as if it were a standing order from my old captain. That alone was reason for me to pause.

  “Why?”

  “One, the victim has the Roman numeral one carved into her body. Also, there are kinky sex toys all over the place.”

  “And two?” I asked, irritated that I have been put in a box.

  “She’s your ex wife.”

  I didn’t posses the ability to speak for a moment.

  I was in unincorporated South Fulton County, near the airport hotels outside of Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport. She had been dumped there; I could tell by the way the body lay in the grass. She was completely naked, and her clothes were maybe a few feet from where she was. That let me know that she had been killed somewhere else and brought here after the fact.

  No blood at the scene.

  No other DNA to trace.

  The pain that gripped my heart upon seeing her lying in a contorted position was too much to bear. The rage inside me was indescribable, and I was having a hard time keeping the nausea down, to say the least. My body felt numb, but the detective in me kicked in; I’ll have time to grieve later. Someone out there had committed murder, and this was personal to me because of the beauty that now lay at my feet.

  “Mr. Law?” Detective Reddick interrupted my thoughts.

  “Detective Reddick, I presume?”

  “You may call me Natasha, Sir.”

  We were on a first name basis already? I thought to myself that I was going to like this case after all.

  “Dominic, but my friends call me Dom,” I responded, offering my hand. “Forgive my rudeness earlier while we were on the phone, I was dealing with another case when you called.”

  I guess I was wrong for doing a double take after my vision cleared from the tears in my eyes. Natasha was stunning; she was tall, curvy, I mean hourglass curvy with extra hips and ass to spare, and had incredibly gorgeous raven dark hair.

  We walked back over to the crime scene to get a closer look once I got my wind back and the nausea finally calmed down. I sent a text Ramesses to let him know what happened to Sherrie and that I was at the

  crime scene.

  Damn, baby, who did this to you? Why did they do this to you?

  He sent a text back immediately asking if there was anything that he could do, and that the company resources were at my full disposal.

  “What have you got?” I asked her, my faculties in full swing now.

  “Victim had her throat cut, right to left. CS investigators are saying she has been dead about 18 hours. There are little signs of resistance,” Natasha recounted. “Other than that, there is not much to go on. We are pulling cell records and such, trying to figure out what she was doing here at 3 a.m.”

  I started to zone out during her report as we got closer to the body of the woman that I loved. The closer that we were, the more difficult it was to keep my emotions in check.

  I knelt by Sherrie’s body, closed her eyes.

  The body had decomposed to the point where I hardly recognized her face.

  This wasn’t the last image that I wanted of my ex wife. She deserved better than this ending.

  But I knew this much; whoever had done this was going to pay dearly with their lives, if I had any say in the matter.

  I had no oath to worry about anymore. If I got to the killer first before the cops did, all they needed to do was call a coroner.

  “The Roman numeral one, carved in her chest. Do you have any ideas, Dom?” Natasha asked.

  “Only one; that she could be the first in a series of victims. There is a potential for a serial problem, Detective.”

  “We need to find the bastard who did this before it happens again,” she resolved, a tint of anger in her own voice.

  “We?” I queried. I’m not doing a full-fledged case for free. That’s bad for business.

  “Yep, you’re with me on this,” Natasha stated flatly, as if I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

  “I don’t think so. I’m in the private sector now, not on the county payroll,” I protested. “My business partner has to sign off on it as well.”

  Just at that moment, I got a text from Ramesses… Your old Captain just called me wanting you on a consult… it’s your call, this case might be personal.

  I blew out some air… he had a point.

  Instincts were going crazy. I didn’t know what to think at that point.

  It might be nothing… but it might be something, too.

  And I can’t have amateurs handling this case; it’s too close to my heart now. I had to see this through.

  “Partner says it’s a go… I’m in,” I responded after putting my cell back in its case.

  “OK, I will do a work up on this background stuff. Maybe you should take the day, relax,” Natasha advised. “I know you have a lot going on, considering what has just happened. I will make sure to get with you if I find a lead or if anything comes up.”

  That was the problem; I couldn’t relax.

  I still have work to do.

  Cases don’t solve themselves.

  ~Four~

  I found myself at home a few hours later, going through the old pictures of my ex and me together.

  The tears just wouldn’t stop flowing.

  Damn.

  The whole thing seemed so surreal, to say the least.

  As much as I tried not to drink, especially after dealing with a really rough case, this was a completely different set of circumstances.

  Yeah, I put
on a brave face in front of Detective Reddick, but the truth of the matter was simple.

  This case shook me up on a lot of levels, in ways that I didn’t want to quite admit to myself just yet.

  One thing was for certain.

  God help the person responsible for this shit.

  I visualized my hands around the throat of the person that committed the murder. The androgynous figure’s eyes bulged as I squeezed; eyes that begged me to postpone the journey to the other side, fingers that clawed at my forearms for any possible sign of weakness.

  But there would be no weakness to find. I will damn sure make certain of that. Sometimes justice wasn’t always the best option for certain crimes, and murder was at the top of my list in the pecking order.

  But the anger turned to guilt within a blink of an eye.

  I should have protected her, I kept repeating to myself.

  But how could I? She wanted nothing to do with me after the divorce.

  Hell, we ran in some of the same circles within the community, so it wasn’t like I couldn’t have had another pair of eyes on her.

  Yeah, and then she would have claimed that I was stalking her, too.

  I finally just let the grief of the finality consume me.

  I knew I needed time to grieve before I got down to work and try to figure out the why and who of the murder of my ex-wife.

  And I didn’t care what I had to do to find the information out.

  I was going to get this handled.

  I took another long swig of the Hennessey bottle that had quickly become my best friend in a very short period of time. Normally, I wouldn’t have reduced myself to such a vice to forget, but the more the memories came pouring back – memories I’d never have with her again – the more that best friend became a better comfort than any sympathy fuck that might have come calling at that exact moment.

  I felt the phone vibrating on my lap, but I simply pushed it aside and watched it dance on the floor from the vibration alert, letting me know that yet another person wanted to offer their condolences for my loss.

  Being connected to Ramesses and Neferterri had its positive and negative polarities. Yes, I knew these folks really had genuine regard for my well being and the fact that I lost someone close to me, but at the same time, I really wished that I was an unknown, so that I could do what needed to be done to erase the person from this existence and not arouse any suspicion.

  Without a trace, if I had it my way.

  But this wasn’t Hollywood.

  This was real life.

  I knew I had a job to do, and a couple of cases to help solve. Too many people depended on me to help solve these cases.

  Including Sherrie…

  I slept off the drinking binge until the next morning so that I could sober up enough to get back on the grind.

  I hit the streets where Sherrie was murdered, trying to shake some shit up to see if anyone saw anything.

  I was in my old precinct, walking the streets that I once patrolled as a beat cop before I took on the Gold Shield. Being on those streets felt like another lifetime left behind, when I was young and dumb, with no fear of anything, including death itself, as long as I was cleaning the streets of criminals, it was well worth the lack of fear.

  I thought about it now, and I laughed to myself at how idealistic I was back then.

  That’s what ten years on the force got you.

  Completely jaded and bitter.

  In hindsight, I’m glad I left when I did, or I’d really be no good to anyone by now.

  The skies were a gorgeous baby blue with some cloud cover, but not enough for me to leave my truck without my shades. I took in the surroundings, noticing all of the changes in the buildings, some welcome additions to the area, and just kept my pace slow, not trying to tip myself off that I was a former flatfoot.

  I kept my head on a swivel, as I reminded myself that this area was still known for being one of the more violent in the city. The hookers were still on the stroll, new girls here and there, some of the vets were still there from when I was a rookie way back when. Some of them winked as if they’d never seen me before, while others blinked as if they’d seen a ghost.

  I basically nodded as I approached and let them know that I wasn’t here for them, but I needed some information; information that only they would be able to drop on me.

  One of the girls that knew me, Tori, was wearing a slick little halter dress that barely covered her ass. She wasn’t like the other girls; she went from being her pimp’s bottom bitch to the top of the food chain over the years, which meant that she technically was doing this more for the thrill now than the money, and it showed in her body language. The other girls seemed to look up to her, thinking that they could be her one day, but I knew better. These streets in NW Atlanta would grind you to the grave if you were not careful.

  “So, what has you slummin’ around here, Sharpshooter?” Tori licked her lips as I walked up. ‘Sharpshooter’ was her pet nickname for me after I saved her from a john a lifetime ago. “I thought you were on the hot track to the D.A.’s office?”

  “Those days are over, Tori,” I answered her while taking off my shades, “I’m on different flow now, girlie.”

  “Yeah, I can tell, you move differently,” Tori took a second look at me, sized me up. “So the shield finally got to you, huh? I can’t blame you; you weren’t cut out for the politics of the position. You wanted results your way.”

  Damn.

  How did she just peg me out of the blue like that?

  She must have been able to figure out the look on my face and how she figured it out, because Tori kept at it, “So, word on the streets is that you and your old running partner have gone into business together, doing the kinky P.I. thing? I can see from the clothes and the shades and the ice on you that the word is

  gold.”

  My cell phone vibrated, letting me know that a text message came through.

  I checked and saw that Ramesses wanted my attention, ASAP.

  I nodded at Tori after I slid my phone back in my pocket, “I need some info, now that you know I’m not here to pop you. What do you know on Sherrie’s murder? It happened near where you and the girls are usually doing business.”

  One of the other working girls looked like she wanted to say something, and the group tried to shut her down. Tori gave a look that told them all she was not to be fucked with. It wasn’t the first time that I’d seen her pull that move, but it was impressive regardless.

  Tori motioned for the young girl, Dina, to step to me to give her account. “There was this man, I think, that was doing some kinky stuff with this woman, over there in the park. I could tell it was a rush job, because the man was telling the woman to hurry up before they got caught.”

  “Tell me what else you saw, Dina,” I had a recorder going as she was talking, discreetly hidden in the pocket of my jacket.

  “Well, the girl that was being tied up, she was saying that she was nervous, wasn’t sure if they should be doing this, because she wasn’t sure that Dom would like it,” Dina repeated the dialog that she heard, and it made me freeze.

  Why would my name come up in conversation with a person that was supposed to be a stranger to her?

  “Okay, Sharpshooter, how did your ex get caught up with someone like that?” Tori asked, trying to figure things out like she wanted to know the truth as well, “I thought you were into that kinky stuff, too?”

  “Yeah, I am,” I replied, trying to keep my composure. “Sherrie found out after we were over that she was into it, too. By then, too much had passed to go back and make it right.”

  “What else did you see, Dina?” I pressed without sounding too desperate for info. “The body was found on the street, not too far from here. Was there anything that you think might help me find this person?”

  Dina thought about it for a minute and then replied, “The woman asked if they could go back to the hotel that she reserved to do some more stuff to her.”r />
  That was a clue I was hoping to get, something that I might have been able to follow to help with this nonsense.

  I took out my wallet and slipped Dina a C-note, then slipped a couple of them to Tori, too. “Thank you. I might need your services in the future, okay?” I said as I slowly walked toward my truck.

  It wasn’t much of a lead, but it was something, and I was grateful for that, to say the least. Nothing had come up from the other contacts that Ramesses and I tried, and nothing came up from Natasha and the other detectives from the leads they were working. It was worth a shot.

  “Dom,” Tori walked over to me and unexpectedly planted a deep kiss across my lips. To say that it caught me off guard would be an understatement; the relationship we had, while it was rife with sexual tension, neither of us took it there because, at the time, I was married to Sherrie. “I am truly sorry about your loss. Sherrie was a good woman, even though she was wrong to leave you when things were just getting interesting. If you need me or the girls, you know where to find us.”

  “That is appreciated, Tori,” I told her, still shaking off the effects of the kiss, “I will keep that in mind.”

  As soon as I got in the truck, I hit Ramesses up.

  “Talk to me, Dom,” Ramesses’ voice came loud and clear across the earpiece.

  “I got a lead off of Tori, Sir,” I replied to him, as my mind popped into complete business mode, “I’m heading over to the Sheraton at the airport. I think I might find some more info to help with Sherrie’s case.”

  “Okay, before you follow that lead, you might need to head over to peaches’ apartment. I got a text from the office saying that she’s been looking for you, wanting some more information regarding Aris.”

  I had been somewhat avoiding the phone calls because I didn’t want to have to go through having to tell her that her Master was indeed deceased.

 

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