by H. H. Fowler
The young woman habitually tossed a lock of hair behind an ear and smiled. “You’re kinda cute … dark complexioned, but cute.”
Levi pretended as if he hadn’t heard her. “Do you mind repeating that?”
“No, but I won’t,” she said.
“Why?” Levi grinned.
“Because you are too full of yourself.”
Levi grinned even harder, turning away to fulfil the lady’s request. But soon, his grin slowly morphed into a reflective stare. He wasn’t so much focused on the beauty before him with her long ebony curls and her flawless skin, but rather on those seven last words she’d yelled to him over the music. The only other woman who’d ever told him those exact words was Sasha McKay. Levi soon found himself staring at this attractive little spitfire longer than he would have liked to. She was not Sasha, but she was certainly an attention grabber. He brought the beers in two tall glasses, resting them in front of the young woman.
“Here you go.” Levi smiled. “They are kinda of heavy. Do you need some help taking them over to your table?”
“Thanks, boo. But I’m not handicapped.”
“Hey…” Levi yelled over the music. “I didn’t get your name.”
“Why is that important?” she yelled back.
Levi shrugged. “I just want to know.”
The young lady smiled, seeming to be pleased with Levi’s friendly approach. “Yasmine…”
“I didn’t get that…”
“I said my name is Yasmine!”
Levi watched her turn away from him and sashay alongside the walls of the club. She located the booth her Sugar Daddy had picked out and sat opposite him. The guy then leaned over and kissed her with so much passion that it almost looked as if it was done on purpose. Such a move hadn’t escaped Levi’s analytical mind. However, there was something about the young woman that made him feel as if he’d met her before. Why did she look so familiar? And why was he even concerned? It was not as if he had any intention to pursue her. He’d tried that in the past with other women and it didn’t work. If he couldn’t have Sasha, there was no one else to pursue. Simple as that. Because he would only be wasting his and that woman’s time.
“Who was that fellow you were grinning with?” the guy asked Yasmine.
She turned around, seeming to feel Levi’s eyes on her. But by then, Levi had already shifted his attention to another patron’s request. “He’s just the bartender,” she said, turning her attention back to her date. “Why, are you jealous?”
“I’m not jealous; I’m trying to protect you.”
“Well, Ronnie, I don’t need your protection,” Yasmine shot back. “I can take care of myself.”
Ronnie suddenly yanked her hand and squeezed it. “Don’t get smart with me, you whore. I made you what you are and I will not have you flirting with that nigga in my presence! Now bring your butt closer to me and give me a wet kiss.”
Yasmine swallowed her anger and did exactly what Ronnie wanted, because if she didn’t, she would be severely punished when they were alone. One day, she thought, I will build up enough courage and leave this old fool shaking in the wind.
Chapter Ten
Thanks to new technology in forensic DNA testing, the hospital in Devin’s Cay was able to obtain a chip that could copy and analyze DNA samples taken from cotton swabs. The samples that were collected from suspects were mixed with certain chemicals and were then warmed up. The chip did the rest, taking the entire process only four hours, instead of the usual one to three days in most genetic tests. With this increase of speed in DNA testing, it now helped the police keep some of the most dangerous criminals locked up from off the streets, exactly where they should be. However, this amazing technology was useless to Officer Mitchell because Drake had refused to give a DNA sample.
Twelve hours since Yasmine reported that Drake Beckford had raped her, Mitchell got a call from the hospital where he’d sent Yasmine for a forensic exam. Signs of recent penetration were visible. Traces of semen, possibly that of the abuser were found around Yasmine’s private areas. Also, DNA had been extracted from beneath the tips of Yasmine’s fingers. In addition to all of the evidence collected, traces of Rohypnol, a popular rape drug, were found in Yasmine’s blood.
According to the law of the island, the police could only take a suspect’s DNA if they were suspected of a serious crime, but that was not enough. Mitchell also needed to acquire a court order, which he would have immediately sought if he’d known Drake would refuse to give a DNA sample. Obtaining a court order could take anywhere between seven to ten days, time that Mitchell didn’t have to cement this case. But Mitchell knew there were other ways around a suspect’s refusal, such as using ‘reasonable’ force by extracting a few strands of a person’s hair – even though he knew it was not allowed. Besides, he did not need Drake’s DNA (at least not at the moment) to be convinced that Drake had committed this heinous crime against Ms. Strummer.
After the report had been made, Mitchell quickly secured a search warrant from a judge and then sent several officers to the scene of the crime – Drake’s and Kevin’s hotel room. They studiously combed through the area and were soon able to find a half-empty bottle of Rohypnol under one of the beds. They also found a pair of female underwear, supposedly belonging to the victim. Clearly, Yasmine Strummer was in that room and Drake Beckford had some form of contact with her. And Mitchell was about to prove it.
He suddenly jumped to his feet, beckoning two rookie officers to follow him. They marched toward the holding cell where Drake had spent the last twelve hours. Mitchell struck the iron bars with his baton, frightening Drake to attention. Mitchell then ordered one of the rookie officers to open the cage and pull Drake from the makeshift cot. He then ripped Drake’s shirt off, revealing Drake’s bare back. Mitchell stepped into the cell and began to grin as he examined the four scratch marks on Drake’s skin. Drake’s complexion was extremely fair, which made the marks appear a rosy pink. There wasn’t any doubt now, Mitchell surmised, that the DNA found under Ms. Strummer’s fingertips belonged to this sick bastard.
“Are you ready to confess to the truth, Mr. Beckford? Because I will tell you that the evidence is quickly stacking up against you.”
Still trying to bring his mind into focus, Drake turned to face Mitchell. “As I have explained in my statement, I haven’t done anything to Yasmine Strummer. She attacked me and I escaped. And there is nothing I will take from or add to that because that is the truth.”
Mitchell grinned even wider. “Then how do you explain those scratches on your back. It looks like Ms. Strummer was the one trying to escape and not the other way around. Your DNA was found under her fingertips.”
“That’s not possible…”
“Says who, you sick pervert? It’s your DNA!”
“But I didn’t give you permission to –”
“Shut up!” Mitchell barked, the look of disgust roving in his gaze. He drew near to Drake until his mouth was four inches away from Drake’s quivering lips. “My twelve-year-old daughter was raped by a scumbag that looked just like you…clean shaven and innocent-looking. He was her music teacher and I trusted him to protect her. I didn’t let him get away, so don’t you think for one minute that I’m gonna be any easier on you.”
Drake grew silent, mostly because he felt sorry for Mitchell’s daughter. But what did that have to do with him? Drake had no recollection of how he’d gotten those scratches on his back. He had been feeling a burning sensation all of last night, but he couldn’t understand why. Had Yasmine grabbed him at some point during the massage? That could be the only possible explanation, because there had been no other time he’d allowed Yasmine to touch him.
But then again, he would have felt her nails digging into his flesh—well, he did actually feel it, Drake suddenly remembered. He’d winced in response to the pain. However, Drake knew by the look on Mitchell’s face, that Mitchell wouldn’t believe a word he said. Dear God, help me out of this situation I�
�ve gotten myself mixed up in.
“I see you don’t have an explanation for me,” Mitchell taunted, “because you know I’m right.”
“Even if I told you how it happened,” Drake said, “you wouldn’t believe me.”
“Try me,” Mitchell said.
Drake took the bait, even though Kevin had warned him to keep quiet until he got Drake legal representation. “All I can say is that Yasmine must have dug her nails into my skin when she was massaging me.”
“And how did you not feel the difference in her touch?”
“I did, but I didn’t remember…”
“I’ll tell you why you didn’t remember,” Mitchell growled. Without warning, he plucked several strands of hair from Drake’s head. Though the strands were short and coarse, Mitchell knew it would be enough for the forensic examiner to confirm that the unidentifiable DNA collected from the victim really did belong to Drake. “Does that hurt? It’s the same way that gentle massage turned into a violent experience for Ms. Strummer. She did not want to have sex with you, but because you were so turned on by the massage, you forced yourself on her!”
Drake tried to defend himself, but all he could do was gasp in shock at the accusations. “I didn’t touch the woman! She’s lying! Why don’t you people believe me?”
Mitchell leaned toward Drake’s ear and even though Mitchell had glued his teeth together, Drake understood every word that came through Mitchell’s perverse lips. “Her panties were found under a bed, along with a half-empty bottle of a popular drug that perverts like you use to drug and seduce poor unsuspecting women. With such a strong probable cause against you, what judge on this island isn’t going to order you to provide a DNA sample? Why are you refusing to give us a sample anyway? Only people who have something to hide do things like that. Admit the truth while you have a chance, you dirty scumbag. You raped that woman!”
“Where is my brother?” Drake cried out. “I want to talk to my brother!”
Mitchell smirked. “You’re not getting your wish today, Mr. Beckford and you’re certainly not leaving this cell any time soon!”
Drake’s jaws tightened and it seemed as if the pressure made his eyes water. Was this how it was supposed to end for him? All because he refused to purge his heart of unforgiveness? Drake was angry with God. How could He allow such a degrading situation to befall him? There were less abrasive ways for God to get his attention. From a little boy he’d trusted this God to take care of him – to protect him and ultimately bring him into a glorious future. But right now Drake’s future looked anything but glorious. For the last six months, his life had been full of one disappointment after another, pain and frustration and now this rape accusation. How much did God think he could handle?
The prison door slammed shut, which was followed by a showy disdain from Mitchell and his rookie officers. But despite the anger and the fear in Drake’s heart, he fell to his knees and prayed for God’s mercy to intervene. His Christian faith was the only thing he really knew that had produced results in the past and he had to believe it would work now. Who else but God had the power to deliver him from these untruthful, demonic allegations?
Chapter Eleven
After much coaxing from Hunter, she’d finally gotten Sasha to take an early day off from work so that she could visit Drake at the Devin Cay’s Police Station. It wasn’t that Sasha didn’t want to see Drake. She was too numb with shock to even be any good to herself, much less offer words of comfort to her estranged husband. How did Drake go from apologizing to her for abandoning her, to raping a woman in the five days he’d been back in Devin’s Cay? Sasha hadn’t any clue, but she was certain of one thing: These days, it was hard trying to reconcile in her heart who Drake really was and she was not going to pretend that it wasn’t bothering her.
She and Hunter were exiting Sasha’s late model Jaguar the same time Kevin pulled up and parked next to them. He flew out of the driver side with such haste that he didn’t recognize them. He was supposed to be on a plane, heading back to Tampa, but there was no way he was about to leave his brother in the hands of that evil cop, much less alone to face these hideous accusations.
“Kevin!” Hunter called out to him.
He whirled around to face the women, the look of panic etched in his expression. “I was just trying to reach you,” he spat, his steps teetering between them and the police station. “Officer Mitchell called me and said that I needed to get to the station right away.”
“Why?” Hunter’s heart plummeted to the bottom of her feet.
“I don’t know, but I can assure you it has to do with Drake.”
“We all know he didn’t rape that woman,” Hunter said.
Sasha scoffed. “For his sake, I pray to God he didn’t.”
“Say strong, Sasha,” Hunter reprimanded. “Deep down in your heart, you know that Drake didn’t do this.”
“Really? How can we be so sure?”
“Because he is my brother,” Kevin said, giving Sasha a long hard stare, “And he is your husband. We know him better than anyone. I can’t believe that you would even doubt his innocence. What’s wrong with you today?”
Sasha felt as if she needed to say something to defend her position, but she quelled the bitter words and followed Hunter and Kevin into the police station. Steve Mitchell had been alerted of their coming and with pleasure, he rose out of his big comfortable chair and invited them into his office.
“I know this must be hard on all of you,” he greeted with feigned compassion. “Please, come in and have a seat.”
“We didn’t come here to get comfortable,” Kevin said. “My brother has been arrested for something he didn’t do.”
Mitchell tried to hide his smugness, but he failed big time. “Oh I can assure you that your brother is guilty of the accusation brought against him. There is unquestionable evidence in my possession and my advice to you is to find your brother a very good lawyer.”
“You can be comforted to know that we are working on that,” Kevin spat.
Hunter thought it was a good time to cut in. “You seem pleased to have yourself an air-tight case against an innocent young man. But have you really checked into the background of his accuser?”
“We have thoroughly done our homework,” Mitchell said. “Rape is a very serious crime, which I don’t take lightly at all. My very own daughter was raped, so you can rest assured that I will not rest until these scoundrels are convicted and put behind bars for a long time.”
Kevin spoke up, not feeling a bit of compassion for Mitchell. It was hard to when it was clear that Mitchell had nothing but a vicious and misguided hatred in his heart for Drake. “My brother is an upstanding minister of the church,” he said. “How dare you even put him in with a class of such people? I don’t care what bloody evidence you have against my brother, we will fight tooth and nail against it…Yasmine Strummer is not to be trusted. All of what she has told you is hogwash, attached to a self-seeking agenda. It is she you should be investigating!”
“That may be true, but….” Officer Mitchell ignored Kevin for the moment as his questioning gaze moved toward Sasha. “You are pretty quiet over the matter,” he said. “What is your connection to Drake Beckford?”
“Leave her alone,” Kevin challenged.
“I was not talking to you,” Mitchell said. “You have already said your piece. Now let me hear from the young woman.”
Sasha didn’t see the need to stall or to fabricate a story. “Drake is my husband…” she paused as if contemplating what else to say. However, her next words flew out in a rush before she could control them. “But we have been separated for the last six months.”
“Sasha,” Hunter called in a disapproving tone, “you shouldn’t have told him that.”
Mitchell smiled inwardly, picking up on Sasha’s suspicions. “So, you believe your husband could be responsible for this crime reported against him?”
“Don’t answer that,” Hunter said. “Whatever you say now can
be later used against you.”
“I have nothing to hide,” Sasha said. “My husband is not the man I thought he was…”
“Be quiet, Sasha!” Kevin spat. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. He may have left you for six months, but that doesn’t make him a rapist.”
“I never said it did,” Sasha lashed back. “The point is: he left me! That is not the action of the man I’ve loved basically all my life. Something has changed about Drake and both of you are acting as if I’m the bad guy for noticing it.”
Kevin was ready to fire back, but Hunter planted herself between the two spitfires. “C’mon guys, we’re not helping Drake by fighting. We have to pool our resources together and help him get exonerated of these false accusations.”
“Well,” Mitchell said, clearing his throat. “I will say that I’m impressed by your determination and your belief in Mr. Beckford’s innocence. But I’ve gotta tell you, it doesn’t look good.” Mitchell scurried back to his desk and picked up a folder of information. “I cannot release everything to you right now, but I will say this much: Mr. Beckford’s DNA was found beneath the victim’s fingernails.”
“I don’t understand what that means,” Kevin said.
“What don’t you understand?” Mitchell asked rhetorically.
“What I meant was,” Kevin clarified, “how were you able to get my brother’s DNA without his permission, and especially without a court order?”
Mitchell couldn’t hide the distaste in his expression. He suddenly realized that it was Kevin who was encouraging his brother not to cooperate with the police. But he had something for Kevin to chew on. “This morning, I went to Mr. Beckford’s cell and stripped his shirt off of him. And you know what I discovered? Four scratch marks on Mr. Beckford’s back, which tells me that there had been a struggle of some sort…”