Three Nights In Mannford

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Three Nights In Mannford Page 18

by Cynthia Conner Goyang


  “How can we help, Mayor Henderson?”

  “Just hear me out, Rogers. Long story short, that seemingly innocuous white powder is why my wife left me. That stuff is why I am here talking to you all right now.

  “Deshaun! Jonathon! I’m going to do this thing. I’m telling them everything!” he shouted away from the phone again. “You make one move, I’ll put a bullet right in your skull. Don’t try me! I have nothing to lose here! So I’m going to do this come hell or high water. You hear me? Do we have an understanding? Good!”

  “Dana Rogers here, Johnnie,” she said over the speaker. “It’s best to chill, partner.”

  “It’s best for you if you take her advice, Johnnie,” the mayor shouted, his voice trembling.

  “Okay, Rogers. You might be worried about those other three people. They are fine, all safe. No need to send in SWAT. Give them your name and status again, you three,” Mayor Henderson said. “Speak up so they can hear you.”

  “I’m Marquise Taylor, and I’m okay.”

  “I’m Misty Shepherd, and I’m okay.”

  “I’m Pastor Al Shepherd, and I’m okay.”

  “All right, Rogers, did you hear that?”

  “Yes, Mayor! Thanks for updating me on their status.”

  “Everyone in here is just fine and dandy, so hear me out.”

  “Yes, sir,” Dana answered.

  Mayor Henderson took another long pause. “Didn’t take long for that white stuff to become more than just a recreational thing. I wonder why people call it recreational. Sheesh! Recreational? Came into contact with a whole lot of other folks of Mannford, upstanding or otherwise, re – cre – a – tion – a – ly,” he said, drawing out every syllable. “Sorry, Johnnie. Don’t you move! I swear I’ll put a bullet right through your temple. I’m going to spill the beans,” Truman called. “I’m going to do this thing. Tonight’s the night! Nothing’s going to stop me.”

  “Go on, Mayor Henderson,” Dana said.

  “Johnnie worked for me a lot. Off-duty events. Wasn’t long before both of us developed a taste for that white stuff. We had an understanding. We were partners in crime.” He chuckled ruefully. “Another user introduced us,” the mayor said, then cleared his throat, “introduced me and Johnnie to our friendly neighborhood pusher over there, the one and only Deshaun Woodson. Runs an establishment over on Cherry Street. Pretty hookers, a whole lot of coke. What more can a man ask for, right?” he mused, then abruptly shouted again. “You better be still, Deshaun! As I said, I have nothing to lose. Do not try me!”

  Tyler stood with Commander Holfield as he quietly conferred with SWAT Commander Manley and Chris Haney. Manley then nodded, tipped his hat, exited the police-command unit, and strode back to SWAT’s unit. Not long after, Tyler watched as the SWAT team moved closer to the entrance of the church.

  Oblivious to what was going on outside, Mayor Henderson continued. “For a while, Johnnie and I got our fill over at Deshaun’s without a bit of trouble — that is, until Darrelle Moseley came into the picture.”

  Darrelle’s name riveted Tyler’s attention away from the SWAT team and back to the unit.

  “Did you say, ‘Darrelle Moseley,’ Mayor Henderson?” Dana asked, her eyes widening.

  “Yes, that’s what I said. Darrelle Moseley.”

  Tyler stared, dumbfounded, at the others. Their jaws had dropped. This was a stunning revelation that nobody saw coming. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what the troubled mayor would say next.

  “Yes, that’s what I . . .” The mayor sighed loudly, his voice breaking. “One night I’d left my office after dark, as usual. It had become my routine . . . Yeah, my habit. Didn’t want anyone to observe my comings and goings. I met up with Johnnie at Deshaun’s. Yeah, me and Johnnie, thick as thieves.” The mayor paused. “Sorry, Johnnie. I’m going to spill it all tonight.” The mayor paused to let out a long sigh and then continued. “That night at Deshaun’s started out just like the others — beautiful girls and cocaine aplenty. Me and Johnnie and the girls were having a little party. But then we ran into a little problem. A man walked into the wrong room and right in on our little party. It was Darrelle Moseley.”

  When the mayor didn’t continue, Dana spoke. “What happened after that, Mayor Henderson?”

  Tyler could see that she was trying her best to keep her voice modulated.

  “Well, Rogers, this is what happened. Darrelle Moseley came face-to-face with the mayor of Mannford, naked as a jaybird in a room full of hookers and with Officer Collins coked up to the hilt. What do you think happened afterward?”

  “I don’t know. What happened?” She said, sinking her head into her hands.

  “Just what you’d expect. Moseley started blackmailing me. Extorting money from me in exchange for his silence. It went from a relatively small amount to the ridiculous. He began to threaten me with exposure. At first he called my office. Then he somehow got my cell phone number and started to call me repeatedly, day and night. The last straw was when he showed up at my office, demanding to be seen and making a scene out in the reception area. Me and Johnnie paid visits to Deshaun. He was no help. Told us he didn’t run a daycare.”

  “Man, you are a total butt-crack,” Deshaun yelled in the phone’s background.

  “Shut up, Deshaun. Shut up! I’ll put a bullet in your skull!” the mayor responded, his voice growing angry. Breathing hard, the mayor began sniffling and then sobbing. “Me and Johnnie,” he began once he’d calmed himself a bit. “— thought that Deshaun could get Darrelle to back down. That effort was useless. Darrelle just continued his blackmail, threats, and extortion. I lost track of how much money I paid him. Finally, I’d had it.” The mayor began to sob once more. After he quieted, he went on — this time in a whisper.

  Tyler leaned forward to turn up the receivers to full volume.

  “Well, we came up with a plan. Johnnie was going to go after him in his patrol car. We mapped it out to a T. Johnnie tailed him and watched where he went. We weren’t planning to . . . kill him. Just to . . . well, just to hurt him, just to scare him. We got up early that morning to try and catch him just after he left his house. We’d watched him for several days. He’d always left by himself. Johnnie was in his patrol car, and I followed behind in the black sedan. The sun was shining brightly. It was a beautiful morning for all practical intents and purposes. I watched from a block away as Johnnie put his lights on and pulled up behind Darrelle. He ordered him out of his car, and they exchanged words. That’s when it happened. Darrelle threatened to go to the media. So Johnnie had to shoot him. He wasn’t going to back down, you see . . . Johnnie had to — I swear the guy had never had his family in the car with him that time of morning before. He never had them in there.”

  The mayor began to weep again. Between sobs, he squeezed out his words. “I was horrified at the sight of his family screaming and crying. I had to get away. I floored it and sped out of there. The sun was in my eyes, Rogers. I-I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I swear I didn’t mean to do any harm. There was a teenage girl, a blond girl, crossing the street just as I turned the corner at 32nd and Madison. I hit her. With my car, I hit her. I saw her fly up into the air, but I kept going. I . . . kept going. I had my assistant call Mannford General Hospital to check on her. I . . . I think her name is Sadie. I hope she’ll be okay.”

  For a moment, everyone was stunned into silence.

  “Let’s get you all out of there,” Dana said soothingly. “No one else needs to die, Mayor. You don’t want to hurt anybody else.”

  Tyler and the others waited for the mayor’s reply, but his voice remained silent.

  The only sound that rang out was an anthem of praise. It floated on the air, softly emanating from the throng who had gathered just outside the police barricades.

  “Mayor Henderson,” a familiar voice said, sounding very close to the phone. “Are you ready to giv
e me the gun?”

  From the deep-timbered tone, Tyler quickly deduced that the person now speaking was Marquise Taylor. He exchanged amazed glances with the others and listened in as Marquise continued.

  “Let’s end all this now. No more bloodshed, all right?” Marquise said. “I’m going to reach out now. You can just lay it in my hand, okay?”

  Silence prevailed for a few moments.

  Tyler held his breath and stared around the unit at his cohorts. It seemed they, too, were barely breathing as they waited with no certainty of what even the next second would bring.

  “Here, Marquise,” the mayor finally answered, his voice trembling. “I’m going to throw you this cell phone. My firearm, though — no. Can’t surrender my firearm. That’s simply not going to happen.”

  “You be thinking about that, Mayor Henderson,” Marquise replied. “It’s the right thing to do, okay?”

  Dana spoke up. “What’s going on in there, Marquise?” No one was sure who was in possession of the cell phone. She glanced around at everyone in the command unit and shrugged, mystified.

  “Hold on,” Marquise said. “We got this. We got this! Don’t come in and take these people’s lives.” Then abruptly, the phone disconnected.

  Dana put her palm up and looked with wide eyes at Commander Holfield, Tyler, and Chris. “Dang it! What now?” she said. Her eyes were filled with frustration, mixed with dread.

  Commander Holfield paced back and forth for a moment before replying, “Lieutenant, I think SWAT’s going to have to step in.”

  Tyler and Chris nodded.

  “I hope we can restore communications with Marquise first — cut down on the possibility of loss of life in there — but you all know there’s little chance of that,” their commander said.

  Commander’s got to stay here in case that phone rings again, Tyler thought as he massaged the back of his neck. Finally, he spoke up. “Commander Holfield? Sir, why don’t I go over there? Let me see if I can get Manley to hold out for just a bit longer.”

  Chris raised his eyebrows at Tyler. Obviously, he knew the kind of trouble Tyler could be bringing on himself, but he nodded his support. “Good idea, Ty.”

  Holfield grimaced. “But our SWAT brother over there is not exactly going to see it our way.”

  Still, Tyler wasn’t going to back down. He had to give it a chance. And obviously Commander Manley wasn’t keen to listen to Commander Holfield. “Just let me talk to him a bit, sir. I’ll tell him that I know Marquise personally and trust him. Maybe I can use that to persuade him to at least give us a bit more time.”

  Holfield moved his hands through his hair and exhaled heavily. Then he shook his head as though to say no. Tyler’s hopes sank — until he heard these words from Holfield: “Ah! Yeah, okay. It’s worth a try.” The commander sighed again as though he were agreeing against his better judgment. “Go on. Get after it. Go pay Manley a visit.”

  Tyler nodded and glanced at Chris, who gave him a thumbs up. He jogged over to the SWAT command unit and paused in the doorway.

  “Winters, Chalmers, Lary — make sure all your officers are in place and ready,” Commander Manley was saying, barking out his orders.

  Tyler entered the SWAT unit, brushing past the three officers in their protective gear as they were exiting. They glanced questioningly at Tyler, but he gave them scant notice.

  “Yeah, we were listening in, boy.” Manley turned his full attention to Tyler. “So Holfield sends an underling to do a commander’s job?”

  Tyler breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself. “He’s got to wait in there for that call, Commander Manley. We know you and your crew are prepared and ready, sir, but I think you see that we should hold off just a bit longer,” Tyler said, trying his best to sound deferential. “I played football with Marquise Taylor in high school, and I know he’ll do the right thing,” Tyler said. “Can you hold off just a bit longer?”

  “Look, I respect y’all and y’all’s way of doing things. The ball’s been in y’all’s court the whole dadgum night.” His face reddened. “I’ve been patient as all get-out, but this is getting ridiculous. Now listen here. You go tell Holfield that I’m going to give them folk in that church ten minutes to come out. Ten. Minutes,” he said, raising his ten fingers. ”And then we’re going in.”

  “Okay, sir,” Tyler said. He clenched his jaw and nodded, then stepped out of the unit. “Dang it!” he muttered to himself. He knew that Manley would delay no longer than he’d promised, so he rushed back to the command post.

  “He’s giving us ten minutes.”

  “Crap,” Holfield replied.

  As though on cue, Manley’s voice crackled over the radio as he barked orders to his team. “Men, take your positions. At 2300 hours, we’re going in. Copy that? Mannford PD needs to stay out of the way and offer us back-up.”

  Tyler glanced outside to see sharpshooters take their positions around the church and on the roofs of the adjoining businesses. Helicopters circled overhead. It felt like a circus. He stared in shock at the sheer number of media outlets and reporters.

  “Hey, guys, look at this.” Chris Haney pointed everyone’s attention to a unit television tuned to a news broadcast. Using aa high-powered lens, a skilled photographer had captured a shot inside the church. It was a partially grainy image of Mayor Henderson pointing a gun.

  A “breaking news” banner moved slowly across the bottom of the screen, identifying the mayor.

  “What is happening to us?” Tyler muttered under his breath. In the background he could hear the gathered crowd loudly praying for God to intervene.

  Chapter

  29

  Mayor Henderson held the gun steady — and directly on Deshaun and Jonathon. Although both men were indignant, they still held up their hands in surrender.

  Marquise stood near the mayor, clasping the cell phone. He felt the eyes of the motley group upon him as they waited for someone to make a move. What should I do, Lord? Marquise prayed. What should I do? His heart pounded in his chest, his eyes flitted back and forth between Al and Misty, Mayor Henderson and the two on stage.

  At the sound of the ringing cell phone, Marquise jerked, his entire body was racked with the pressure of the circumstances. He looked down to respond to the ringing cell phone but then felt something speak clearly in his spirit.

  Let it ring.

  “What happened here tonight will forever change all of our lives,” Pastor Al then spoke up. He paused, as though carefully weighing his words, and looked around at everyone. “Let God take charge, no matter the outcome. It may sound odd, but I know that the Lord visited us here in this place. I don’t know about you all, but He has taught me something. He’s taught me that no matter what you did or who you did it with, it is never too late to turn your life over to Him.”

  The cell phone rang again and again. Marquise felt the voice in his spirit telling him not to answer.

  Marquise straightened his shoulders and stepped closer to the mayor. Looking directly into his dilated and bloodshot eyes, Marquise said gently, “It’s time to give up that gun, Mayor Henderson.”

  Eight minutes left.

  Tyler paced as Dana tried again and again to call Collins’s cell. No answer. He hit the table in frustration. “Come on, Marq. What are you doing?”

  Commander Holfield stood over the phone, bending toward it as if willing it to ring. Chris and Dana sat on the edge of their chairs.

  Seven minutes.

  “Should we try again?” Tyler asked anxiously. He couldn’t bear the thought of his friend getting caught in the crossfire.

  “No. We need to wait this out,” the commander said. But he didn’t look convinced.

  Dana popped another Nicorette.

  “C’mon, Commander!” Tyler let out his frustration, even though he knew it could get him in trouble. “We’ve got to do som
ething!”

  Six minutes.

  The commander looked at his watch and nodded at Dana. “Okay, Rogers. Make the call. Give it another shot.”

  Five minutes.

  The cell phone rang and rang. No answer.

  The radio crackled with the SWAT Commander Manley’s voice. “Stand ready at my command. Copy that, officers? Stand ready at my command.”

  “Looks like SWAT’s going to happen.” Commander Holfield clenched his fist in frustration and turned to Tyler. “Get ready to go in with them,” he ordered. “And for goodness sake, try to get them all out in one piece.”

  Four minutes.

  “Yes sir,” Tyler answered and hurriedly threw on full-body armor. He knew that Holfield had chosen him to accompany SWAT because of his sharpshooting skills — for which, at this moment, he was grateful.

  “Be safe, Ty,” Dana said and clapped him on the shoulder.

  “Will do, Lieutenant.”

  “Yeah, you’d better, dude.” Chris flashed a tight grin and hugged his patrol partner. “I already reserved our tee-off time for next Saturday at Park Hill Golf Club.”

  Tyler chuckled nervously. Knowing that Chris was trying to alleviate his fears, he played along. “All right, then, by all means, dude. Wouldn’t miss this chance to kick your butt thoroughly.” Tyler slipped his headgear on. “I’ll be back,” he said, and then stepped out into the night.

  The church and parking lot were ablaze with bright LED news spotlights. Many of his fellow officers were scrambling to hold at bay members of the news media who pressed against the barricades.

  One minute.

  Squaring his jaw, Tyler stepped in among his SWAT colleagues and readied his firearm. Some of the team had tear gas ready, while others had positioned themselves close to the church door with a battering ram.

  “Less than a minute, team.” Tyler heard through his earpiece. “On my word,” Commander Manley continued. “Copy that? Less than a minute!”

  Dang it! I guess this is it. He’s not going to call in time.

 

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