“He stabbed her before he strangled her.”
“Why? Why would anyone do that to Jami?”
“Because they were pissed and thought they could get away with it.”
“No one goes unpunished.”
“If your daddy’s a big-shot judge you do.”
Rebel’s skin crawled along her arms. “I can’t believe Drew would do this. He broke up with her. He was done. Why come back and kill her?”
“He had the means; his motive could have been that Jami had something on him or when she refused to accept his break up, he killed her in a fit of rage. We’ll find out soon enough if he had opportunity.”
“What are you going to do?”
“First, I’m going to notify Jami’s family of their loss. Then I’m going to have a little chat with the boyfriend. Just as soon as I talk to Mister Green and the ME gets here.”
Rebel nodded and stood up on shaky legs. “Am I a person of interest, Detective?”
Cantrell’s lips twitched. “You are a person of considerable interest, but not as a suspect in this case.”
Under normal circumstance Rebel would have rose to the flirtation. But her heart was wrung dry at the moment. She needed a little time to collect herself. She stunk worse than a skunk and she needed to get something in her stomach other than coffee or she was going to be sick all day. “I’m flattered I intrigue you, Detective Cantrell. And even under such terrible circumstances as my friend’s murder, I will admit, I am not blind to your charms. But right now, I’m too overwrought to do much of anything except get a shower and sleep for a week.” She cracked a small smile, but didn’t take her eyes of his. “But rest assured, once I bounce back, you will have your hands full with me.”
He cocked a dark brow.
“I go after what I want, Detective Cantrell. And I think I might just want you.”
His face tightened to serious. “I don’t meddle with jail bait.”
“Jail bait! Who you calling jail bait? I’ll have you know I’m a twenty-two year old woman!”
“And I’m twenty-nine.”
“Seven years is nothing. My pappy is fourteen years older than my gran.”
“There’s more than seven years separating us.”
“Is it because I’m white?”
His lips quirked. “I’d say you were more like peaches and cream with a spicy cinnamon swirl.”
Rebel smiled. “Don’t you forget it.” She moved past him, but his hand stayed her.
“I’d like to record that voicemail.”
“Sure, go ahead,” she said, handing him her phone.
After the detective hooked her phone up to a USB cable and flash drive, he handed her back her phone. “Looks like it’s about out of charge.”
She took it. “You need a ride back to your place?” he asked.
“You offering?”
“I have to stay here until the coroner arrives.”
“That’s too bad.”
“I can have Sorrel take you.”
“That’s alright, Detective. I’ll sneak one of the boy’s here’s golf cart for a ride home.” Rebel turned to leave then turned back to him. “Do you have a card?”
He dug into his back pocket and pulled out a few. He handed her one and watched her read it. “Detective Cassius Cantrell.” She looked up at him and cocked her head to the side. “I like the ring of that.” She handed him back the card and said, “I’d like your personal cellphone number in case I need to get in touch with you fast.”
He grinned and wrote it down. His handwriting big and bold, just like him.
He handed her the card and said, “Don’t be thinking of leaving town any time soon, Miss Culpepper.”
She snatched it from his hand, smiled, then walked down the stairway almost colliding with Sorrel and Jason Green.
Chapter Four
Cash watched the contrary co-ed sashay down the stairway. More to the point, he watched her ass. Hell, he wasn’t made of stone. She had an effect on him he didn’t like. It was a good thing he was leaving for Raleigh at the end of the week. Otherwise, he might find himself breaking his self-imposed rules and getting them both into some trouble. Because that girl was a whole lot of sass wrapped sexy. He cringed when Rebel nearly collided with Sorrel and another man. Jason Green no doubt.
He watched both men’s necks swivel on their shoulders as they followed the smooth back and forth sway of Rebel’s hips down the stairway.
“Eyes up here, boys!” Cash yelled at them. They jerked around and hustled up the stairway into the vestibule.
“Detective Cantrell, this here is Jason Greene. He called it in. He’s a Kappa,” Sorrel said, as if being a Kappa was the be-all end-all. It didn’t mean much in Cash’s book
“Is it Jami Butler, Detective?” the frat kid asked, looking past him to the closed door.
“We’re not releasing the name of the victim just yet.” Cash pointed to the plastic chair Rebel had just been sitting in. “Have a seat.”
Nervously, Jason sat; his eyes darted around the vestibule, never settling on any one spot. Including Cash’s eyes.
Pulling out his notepad, Cash said to Sorrel, “Get on back down stairs and keep the hordes at bay.”
“Officer Bacone has everythin’ under control. He run most of those lookey-loos off an’s just wrappin’ up with the statements.”
Cash nodded. Probably best to keep Sorrel here where he couldn’t get into any trouble. It was a relief knowing Mike was getting the statements.
“Tell me from the beginning, Jason, what you saw, what you did and what time it occurred.”
The frat boy ran his fingers over his shaved scalp and shook his head. He was big and could do a lot of damage. But there were no cuts, bruises or swelling on his hands or forearms. And from the stank wafting off his clothes, he hadn’t changed since the party. No rips, tears or blood on his clothing. “I—I had to take a leak. The bathrooms downstairs were backed up from the party last night so I came up here. I wasn’t seeing too straight and ended up in the study instead of the bathroom next door. I about shit myself when I walked right on top of that girl.”
“So you touched the body?”
“I tripped over her! Got some of her blood on my hands when I broke my fall! I wiped it off on the carpet in there.” He held out his shaking hands and though he had wiped most of it off, Cash saw a few stained lines in his palm. “I touched a dead girl!”
“Touched her or killed her, son?”
“I didn’t kill anyone! I swear it,” he said, freaking out.
Calmly, Cash slid his notepad back into his pocket and pulled out a swab from his kit. “I’m going to take a sample of that blood, Jason.” When the kid nodded, Cash quickly took the evidence. As he slipped it into the evidence bag he looked at the kid. “You can give me a DNA sample now, or I can get a court order for one and you can do it later. The sooner I can rule you out as a suspect, the sooner you can breathe easier. Or, I can arrest you right now for that girl’s murder.”
Jason nodded vigorously. “Take what you want, Detective. I didn’t hurt that girl. I was with my own girl all night.”
Cash tagged the evidence bag, then took another sterile swab from his kit and said, “Open wide.”
After he swabbed the inside of the kid’s mouth and put the evidence in a bag and tagged it, he said to Jason, “By your own account, all y’all were passed out down stairs. Is there someone who wasn’t passed out that could vouch for your whereabouts six hours ago?”
Jason deflated in relief. “I didn’t get back here until five this morning. There’re plenty of folks who can swear to that.”
“Where were you?”
Jason paled. “There was a ah—”
“Go on and tell me,” Cash urged. “It can’t be worse than sitting on death row.”
Jason swallowed. “I was at an initiation party last night.”
By Jason’s reluctance to out the nature of his alibi, Cash suspected it was one of those kind of
parties that gave fraternities a bad name.
Sorrel snorted. “You boys still ‘intiatin’’ with ledge parties?”
“They aren’t,” Jason defended.
“All y’all are nothing but scum, takin’ advantage of those poor girls like that,” Sorrel sneered.
Jason stiffened. “No one was forced to do anything they didn’t want to do.”
Sorrel looked at Cash then at Jason. “Like any of y’all give ‘em a chance.”
“Do you mean to tell me, Jason, that this fraternity stands out on a window ledge watching one or more of its brother’s having sex with an unsuspecting girl as part of its initiation process?” Cash was up to his eyeballs in dumb-ass college boys and their lack of humanity. “Do those girls know what they’re agreeing too? Did you video tape them too? And do they give permission for that as well?”
Jason’s eyes narrowed. “It isn’t like that.”
“I know exactly what it’s like,” Cash sneered. He’d seen firsthand what being an unknowing participant in a ledge party could do to a girl. His first DOA as a cop was a nineteen-year-old co-ed who hung herself when she saw the video of her being run through by a gang of thugs who called themselves fraternity brothers.
“Really?” Jason sneered. “I didn’t realize your people would be so civilized about such things.”
Cash checked his temper. He wasn’t going to lose control over being baited by this pissant. With a single step, Cash invaded the smug frat boy’s personal space.
“You’d like it if I lost my cool right now, wouldn’t you, you self-righteous son of a bitch? But what you fail to understand, boy, is that if I did, you’d be in too many pieces for Sorrel to pick up off the floor. So keep your sideways comments to your fucking self.”
Green looked at Sorrel and said, “You heard him threaten me!”
“I din’t hear nothin’ of the sort.”
Cash dug his index finger into Green’s chest. “One more thing, I find out that you or anyone else in this frat took advantage of one drunken girl last night, or I see one video pop up, I guarantee you’re going to see the inside of a jail cell.”
“Every participant last night was well aware of what they were doing. No one was forced or coerced in any way for anything.” Jason smiled like King Shit on Turd Island. “They never are. They beg for it.”
Cash grit his jaw, wanting nothing more than to slap the shit out of this kid. Not only because of his bigotry, but because he sat up so high and righteous about what he and his frat brothers did. Like they were God almighty and everyone else was nothing but pawns in their game. That’s what entitlement did to a person, and Gilman University was overflowing with it.
“Drew Prebe was a Kappa pledge. Was it his ‘initiation’ party last night?”
Jason’s lips tightened. “I want my DNA sample back.”
Cash smiled. “Too late, boy. It’s Lockerby PD property now.”
Jason stood up and met Cash almost eye to eye. “You got nothing on me. I didn’t kill that girl. I know my rights and I know I don’t have to answer another question. I’m outta here.”
Cash stepped back and allowed the arrogant kid to leave. “Don’t make any plans to leave town, boy,” Cash called after him.
“Cash, you think he did it?” Sorrel asked looking at the bastard’s retreating back.
“Killing, Jami? Nah. He was too smug about his alibi checking out. But I’d be real interested to know if Drew Prebe was tapping something else last night, and that’s why Jami and he were fighting.”
“It just makes me sick to mah stomach when I think ‘bout how those Kappa boys bring those girls to their parties an’ just pass ‘em around like a bag a chips.”
Cash’s stomach roiled. “I can’t believe the girls go along with it.”
“They do. But only for the Kappas. They’re the big men on campus, lotta money, lotta status. The local girls line up hopin’ for a way outta town.”
Cash was dumbfounded. He thought he had seen it all. He knew about ledge parties all too well, but the ones he’d heard about didn’t involve consent. How could a woman knowingly allow herself to be exploited like that?
Cash’s radio beeped. “Cash, the ME just pulled up,” Officer Bacone said.
“I guess he wasn’t as hungry as he thought,” Cash said to Sorrel. “A soon as he takes possession of the body, I’m going to pay Drew Prebe a visit.”
“He lives over in Johnson house, but I bet you’ll find him over at his sister’s place on Gilman Commons right ‘bout now, prolly with a lawyer sittin’ by his side.”
“I’m familiar with the street. You know the number?”
“No, but it’s the yellow and white house that looks like somethin’ a Yankee would live in.”
Cash made a mental note and could not have been happier to see Wade Boggs’ ponderous belly navigate its way up the stairway.
He came up huffing and puffing, his hound dog jowls red and moist.
“Sir, I’m glad you hurried on over,” Cash said. “And even more, I’d appreciate you putting this girl in the express lane. I want to wrap this up before I leave Friday.”
“Son, I can only move as fast as my hands and feet allow me to. Now show me the body.”
As Cash opened the door to the kill room Sorrel asked, “Why you leavin’ Friday, Cash?”
“I took a job in Raleigh.”
“Police work?”
“SBI.”
“Well, I’ll be. The State Bureau of Investigation. I applied last year, but never heard back from them. You think maybe you could put in a good word for me?”
“I’ll see what I can do, Sorrel. Now if you can get back down and help Officer Bacone out with those statements, I’d be much obliged.”
“Alright.”
As Sorrel shuffled off, a lift tech from the ME’s office trudged up the stairway pulling a gurney behind him. “Can you give me a hand?” he asked Cash. “The doc’s been on the clock since two this morning an’s about wore out.”
“Sure,” Cash said and followed him in.
“Remind you of someone else, sir?” Cash asked the ME.
“Like déjà vu. Scary how similar this one is to that other girl, Katie Burkhart. I’m not ever going to forget her name.” He looked directly at Cash. “You find the person who killed this girl, you’ll find Katie’s killer.”
“That’s exactly what I plan to do, sir. How soon can you get to work on her?”
“Right after lunch soon enough for you?”
“That’ll do.”
As they wheeled Jami out, Cash radioed Officer Bacone. “Mike, can you come up and finish sweeping the scene for evidence?”
Cash had a hot date with one Drew Prebe.
“Yes, suh,” Mike said.
Cash took the evidence bags he had tagged and put them into a larger evidence bag then sealed it. He was leaving nothing to chance. This evidence wasn’t leaving his side until he handed it over to the proper authorities in Raleigh. He needed some coffee. It was going to be a long day. But first he had a phone call to make that no cop ever wanted to make.
Thirty minutes later, Cash pulled up in front of the only yellow and white house on Gilman Common. The Commons, as it was known, was where the upper echelon of the tenured professors, including the dean and Gilman board of directors lived. Made sense a Prebe would have a house on the prestigious street.
As he locked the car, Cash noticed a golf cart parked on the side lawn and raised voices coming from the house. He picked up his step and sure enough, there was a fight going on inside. He hustled up the brick steps to the wide white door. The shouts escalated. He recognized one.
“Rebel!” He banged on the door, shouting, “Open up, Police!” He gave the occupants three seconds to answer before he tried the door to find it unlocked. He rushed in.
“Damn it, Rebel! I’m running this investigation,” he shouted, coming at her. She had the nerve to look angry at him for disrupting her interrogation. She had a man, easily
twice her size, up against the foyer wall and an amazon of a woman behind her looking like she was going to rip that little firecracker to shreds.
Three pair of eyes stared at him.
“Drew won’t tell me what him and Jami were fighting about!” Rebel yelled before she turned back at the man she had pinned against the wall and shoved her fist beneath his chin.
Cash strode up to Rebel, grabbed her and tucked her under his arm like she was a newspaper.
“I can’t help you if I can’t get my hands on him!” Rebel shouted, trying to squirm her way out of his grasp.
“Detective Cantrell I presume?” the Amazon drawled. “Unless you have a search warrant, kindly see yourself out of my house.”
“I heard shouts and feared someone might be in immediate danger.” His eyes narrowed at Rebel when he looked over at the man she had accosted, whom he presumed was Drew Prebe, then the Amazon whom he presumed was Drew’s sister, Colette, then down at the crazy girl hanging in his arms. “Looks like I was right.”
“Now that you have my brother’s attacker in custody, please leave.”
Cash lowered Rebel to the floor, but kept a firm hand on her arm. Inclining his head toward the door, he levelly commanded her, “You get going.”
Her eyes spit fire. “I will not! I’m not leaving here until Drew confesses.”
“I didn’t kill her, Rebel,” Drew defended himself as he came toward them.
“Out of my house, Detective, before I call the state police and have you thrown out,” the sister threatened.
With one hand on Rebel’s arm to keep her from pouncing on Drew, who apparently didn’t have the good sense to keep his distance from the little hellion, Cash casually looked the sister up and down. His gaze settled on her raw knuckled hands. When he looked up and caught her furious gaze, he asked, “What happened to your hands?”
She shoved them into her pants pockets and glared at him. “Get out.”
“If I leave, I’m taking you with me.”
“You’re arresting me?” she asked incredulously.
“Yes, ma’am, under suspicion of murder.” By the looks of her hands, even though it was a long shot, it might get her to open up.
“You can’t do that!”
Guns and Roses Page 28