Charlotte went into the kitchen and opened the microwave. She pulled out a plate of fried chicken, collard greens with green peppers cut up in them, macaroni and cheese, candied yams, and cornbread. As much as she wanted to devour all of it, she knew that going to sleep on that heavy a meal at this time of night would not be a good idea. She put two chicken wings onto a napkin grabbed a coke from the fridge and joined her mother back out on the porch. She checked her cell phone for any missed calls. There were none. She leaned back in the swing set next to her mother to eat.
Thunder rumbled in the distance as the raindrops bounced off the tin roof of the chicken coop.
“This is some good sleeping weather here, Momma,” said Charlotte with chicken in her mouth.
“Hush up now girl, GOD is doing his work.”
“This is some good chicken too.”
Charlotte wanted to ask her mom why she wasn’t in bed, but decided against it. It was better to just sit in the quiet and listen to the rain.
“Charlotte?”
“Yes Momma.”
“I have something to tell you and I don’t want you to tell nobody else, you hear?”
Charlotte stopped eating and looked up, all ears. Her mother looked at her.
“What is it, Momma?”
“I really don’t want you to tell nobody, you promise?”
“Momma, you scaring me, what is it? Are you ok? Is Dad ok? What?”
“Promise me, ok?”
“Ok, Momma, I promise,” sensing something so terrible she began tearing up.
“You remember that check-up appointment you took me to last month?”
Tears rolled down Charlotte’s face in anticipation of what her mother was about to say.
“Yes momma, I do.”
“The doctor ran some test on a lump he found under my breast.”
Charlotte covered her mouth, “Oh God, Momma!”
“Shhh! Don’t wake your daddy.”
“But Momma--”
“But nothing, now listen.”
She grabbed Charlotte’s hand.
“I have some more tests to do before it can be confirmed but I wanted you to be aware of this just in case…” she paused.
“Just in case what, Momma?”
Ruthie sighed.
“Just in case, your daddy needs you to help take care of him.”
She held onto her mother’s hand tightly and laid her head on her mother’s lap like she had so many times as a little girl.
She looked out into the sky as the heavy rain poured, unaware that her phone was vibrating, alerting her of an incoming call.
* * *
I looked at the caller ID. The number was anonymous. I tapped the call back button. Damn, Nothing. I knew it would be a long shot but it was the only shot I had. I quickly called dispatch and gave them the number and told them to contact the wireless service provider and see if we could triangulate where the call came from. I hoped that we could trace the number to the serial number of the phone, and then to the store of purchase and find out who bought it and if they have surveillance cameras. It was thin also but worth a shot.
“Well, well, how’s it going, Jared?”
I turned to see the last person in the world I would ever want at my funeral. I couldn’t stand him and I’m sure the feeling was mutual. Detective Harry Burncutt got out of his unmarked car and walked over to me, buttoning his coat.
“I’m headed over to Judge Middlebrooks,” I said, “Later!”
I started walking to my car.
“Now that’s a coincidence, I was just told to go do that myself.”
I turned around.
“Burncutt, what the hell you want?”
He put his hands up in front of him.
“Hey! Whoa, compadre,” He gestured surrender with his hands.
“I just wanted to touch base with you before I head over to the judge’s house.”
He lowered his hands and put them in his pockets.
“And besides, I just got a call from Capt. Davis and he wanted me to relay a message to you.”
My shit-o-meter was going haywire. I gritted my teeth.
“What’s the message?”
“I’m in charge of this case and I, that is, we will inform him about his wife’s demise.”
He crossed his arms. “I would assume it’s because you are a hothead with a conflict of interest and the department doesn’t need any more… uhm….bad publicity.”
“We?” I asked.
“Oh I forgot to introduce you to my new partner Detective Cheryl Glass. She is sitting in the car.”
She got out the driver side and stood beside the car. I guessed her to be about 5’6, short brown hair and fair skinned. Her boyish appearance gave me the impression she wanted to prove herself better than any man. She extended her hand in greeting and spoke with a high level of confidence in her voice.
“Pleased to meet you detective, I’ve heard a great deal about you.”
I snapped my eyes at Burncutt. Son of a bitch!
“I’m sure you have.”
His smile was like a hyena about to eat a lame lion.
“Well now that we are all acquainted, and you now know that I’m running the show, I need to know everything you know.”
I wanted to kick his teeth to the back of his head and beat that smile right off his face, but I needed to be in on this case because whoever it was that killed Mrs. Middlebrooks needed me in the game and not this clown.
“Ok Burncutt,” it’s your case but now I need to let you know something.”
I paused to let his confidence level get real high before I cut him down.
“Your killer just called me.”
“Wh-what do you mean the killer just called you?”
“Just what I said, He just called me and told me that he’s not through and that this murder is one of many more to come.”
“I don’t believe you,” he said, looking knowingly at Detective Glass.
“Dispatch has everything I know and I really don’t give a shit if you believe me or not!”
I got in my car and drove off. It felt good to put that bastard in check. Now he needed me.
I looked at the time. 11:00pm. I dialed Charlotte’s number. She didn’t pick up. I assumed she probably got tired of waiting and went to bed. That sounded like a good idea about right now. Crime scenes drain a lot of energy from a person. I figured a good hot shower and a late night snack would help prepare me for the morning meeting. The chief probably ordered the captain to give the assignment to Burncutt. I didn’t mind at all. However, I couldn’t wait to see their faces in the morning after Burncutt told them about the killer calling me. It was a small personal victory that was short-lived. There was a killer out there somewhere who directly called me disguising his voice and threatening to kill again. Many More!
I had to get this bastard. I tried Charlotte’s number again. She picked up.
“Hello?”
I heard sadness in her voice.
“Hi Charlotte, are you ok?”
It sounded like she was fighting tears. “Oh yes, yes, I’m ok. What’s up?”
She tried to hide her crying by pretending to have a cold.
“Hey if it’s a bad time, I could call you back later.”
“Oh no-no,” it’s alright, I’m glad you called.
“Jared?”
“I’m here, Charlotte.”
“How about lunch tomorrow at Johnny’s, is that ok with you?”
“That would be fine Charlotte. Besides, you have to be at the press conference in the morning. I looked at my watch. It was after midnight. “And we need our sleep.”
“Ok baby, I’ll see you there.”
She hung up before I could kiss or say “Ok. Bye.”
Something was wrong, but I respected her privacy. I liked Charlotte and I wanted to always be there for her if she needed me. I placed my phone in the console and turned the radio up to catch the news. 92.9 WTUG was playing the qu
iet storm. Peabo Bryson’s “Can You Stop the Rain from Falling,” was playing. How ironic I thought considering my windshield wipers were working fast and hard to clear the pounding rain from my windshield.
I was concerned for Charlotte but my focus was on this case. Whoever this guy was, he was very bold.
Chapter 3
The morning came fast. I woke up to the Isley Brothers song, “Voyage to Atlantis,” playing on the radio. I always kept the alarm clock set for the radio to wake me up so I could catch some of the Tom Joyner Morning Show. Tom Joyner is a civil rights activist and along with Sybil Wilkes and Comedian J. Anthony Brown, they bring News, Entertainment, and Good wholesome fun to every household. They bring news and entertainment to radio every weekday morning. As Tom was giving out the lucky numbers for his yearly Fantastic Voyage cruise, I got up and stretched, loosening my joints up for some calisthenics exercises, hoping to strike it lucky for the umpteenth time. After I was done, I turned on the coffee pot and then went into the bathroom and started the shower. My face felt like an SOS pad. After I showered and shaved, I put on my black Ralph Lauren knockoff Polo shirt with the embroidered badge, my 511 Khaki pants, and my black low quarter tactical boots. I poured myself a cup of coffee and turned on the TV to see if anything about the murder last night made the headlines. It did.
ABC 33/40 was running the story. I turned the volume on the radio down and used the remote to turn the TV volume up.
“Police need your help on the murder of Julia Middlebrooks whom is the wife of District Judge Robert Middlebrooks. Her body was discovered last night next to her car on Alabama route 298. Police are not releasing any details at this time. A press conference is scheduled today at 10:00 AM at the City Hall Conference room. Officials are asking anyone with information about this crime to call Crime Stoppers at (205) 41-CRIME again the number is (205) 412-7463.”
I turned the volume down. The way I looked at it, the story was well handled, and would not create a public panic.
I finished my coffee and put the cup in the sink along with the other dirty dishes I had been promising myself I would wash. I turned the coffee pot off and grabbed my keys off the counter.
The rain had slacked up some but was still falling and made it difficult to get anywhere in the city fast. I didn’t mind it much. Driving in the rain is everyday stuff in Alabama. I started to run everything through my head again.
Why the judge’s wife? Could it be somebody out for revenge and mistook Julia Middlebrooks for her husband? Why did they not rob her, with all that Jewelry?
And—the big one--why call me?
I checked my phone and saw that I forgot to leave it on charge last night. Thoughts ran through my mind. Had he tried to contact me again? How could I have been so careless?
I plugged the dead phone into the charger. The phone came to life. There were notifications of couple of missed calls and one voicemail. I felt a knot in my stomach. I looked at the list of missed calls. One was from Burncutt and the other was from Captain Davis. I smiled. This day should be very interesting.
I tapped the icon for voicemail to listen to the message.
“Detective Jackson, this is Capt. Steve Davis. Give me a call once you get this message. The time is 7:00 AM.”
I looked at my watch. It was now 8:50 AM. I dialed the number.
“Homicide Division, Capt. Davis?”
“Hello Capt., Detective Jackson returning your call?”
“Detective Jackson, I need to see you in my office when you get here.”
“Ok Capt., I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m at the mercy of the weather and over cautious drivers.”
“Alright, I will see you soon.”
He hung up.
Yep, this was definitely going to be an interesting day.
* * * *
9:00 AM. Lakeview Lane was quiet except for the rain hammering the pavement. Lakeview Lane was an upscale neighborhood where mostly doctors, lawyers, and retirees lived. The kids were already at school and some adults were at their place of practice. It was common to see service trucks parked at people’s homes during the day. Nobody thought twice about seeing a pest control truck in the driveway of 1114 Lakeview Lane.
The man got out of the truck and walked up to ring the doorbell. He was a nondescript little man, but muscular, with oddly bushy blonde hair and a moustache and beard in a sandy red color.
Sheila Durham peeped through the living room blinds. It puzzled her to see a pest control truck at her house on a Tuesday. The usual schedule was once a month and on Fridays. He must be lost, she thought. She opened the door.
“Can I help you?”
The Reaper was stunned by woman’s beauty. She was a redhead about 5’6” and 125 lbs. She wore black stretch pants and an orange workout shirt that was already drenched in sweat.
“Yes ma’am, I’m with Billy’s Pest Control and I’m giving out flyers to promote our business.”
“Well we already have Orkin but thanks any—“
“Yes ma’am, I understand,” he interrupted. “I just want to give you this flyer and also see if you were aware of that dead garden snake in your driveway?”
She gasped. “Oh, my God! Where-where is it?”
“Right there in front of my truck and it looks like it was headed toward the front door.”
He paused to let his words sink in to her. She looked at where he pointed to and saw the flattened snake lying in front of his tires.
“Eek—can you take it away with you when you leave, please?”
Now the game was set.
“Yes ma’am, and since he was a little one, would you like me to quickly check around inside your house just in case his parents may have somehow got inside?” Sound polite, he thought. Sound helpful.
“OH YES! Please do.” She was buying it.
She stepped to the side still cringing at his words and looking around her feet. She had completely forgotten about working out or even checking his credentials.
She closed the door behind them.
She didn’t have time to react. The Reaper made his move. He dropped the clipboard of fliers and grabbed her and wrapped his arms around her tight so she couldn’t move. In one swift motion, he pulled the ball peen hammer from his tool belt and hit her hard in the top of her head and released her motionless body to collapse to the floor. She was dead.
He picked up his clip board and strode out the front door, got in his truck and drove away. Piece of cake. When he had reached US Hwy 82, he drove east. He removed the mustache, beard, and wig he was wearing and placed them in a bag next to him on the seat. Without his disguise, he was quite handsome and fair to look upon. He pulled out his new disposable phone and sent a text message.
* * *
Charlotte always hugged her mom before she went to work. Today was different. She wanted to do so much more, but she managed to keep things natural. She kissed her on the cheek.
Jimmie Earl was reading the morning paper.
“Folks done lost they minds these days,” he said. He sipped his coffee.
Ruthie placed Jimmie’s plate of bacon, eggs, and pancakes in front of him.
“Why you say that, honey?” Ruthie said, pouring the syrup on his pancakes.
He pointed to the paper.
“This killin’ that happened in town last night to that white lady.”
They both looked at Charlotte.
“You doing this story also?” he asked. He picked up a fork full of eggs and shoved them in his mouth.
She nodded after putting a delicate bite of eggs in her mouth. Her daddy would eat that whole plate of food, while she would just take an egg and maybe a little dry toast with her coffee.
“There really wasn’t much to go on last night, I was waiting for Jared to--” she caught herself and looked at her mother, who had a knowing smile on her face.
“Jared and I are going to have lunch today. Perhaps he may know more by then. Besides, I write exclusively. I am not your run of the m
ill reporter. I am Charlotte Reed, the Exclusive Crime Columnist.”
Her dad looked at her over his eyeglasses.
“That’s my girl!”
He smiled and finished the last of his pancakes.
“Well, baby, you be careful in that weather now, you hear? Folks drive crazy nowadays too.”
“I will, Daddy”. She kissed him on the cheek.
“I’ll walk you out,” said Ruthie.
When they had stepped out on the porch, Charlotte hugged Ruthie tight and kissed her on the cheek.
“I love you, Momma.”
“I love you too, Charlotte.”
They both wiped their eyes.
“Now go tell that man you love him too!”
Charlotte thought about that. “Bye, Mom!”
The heavy traffic quickly released her thoughts from her mother. Cars had come to a standstill on Hwy 69. Charlotte picked up her phone to call her editor.
“Hey, Charles, it looks like I’m going to be late. I think they might have a fender bender on highway 69.”
“Hey, we could use a by-story to print also. See what you can get and I will see when you get here,” he said and hung up.
It was still raining. Hard.
“I’ll get what I can from inside my car,” she said to the silent phone.
Traffic was at snail speed but she was getting close to the amber and blue lights of the emergency vehicles.
It was just as she thought--a small fender bender. Silver Mercedes C-Class had hit an older model Toyota Camry in the rear and the driver saw dollar signs in his eyes. She had seen that man in the Mercedes before, she thought. She wondered if he was a doctor. She noticed that he got in the passenger side of the police car and the officer sped off with lights and siren blasting. She pushed it all to the back of her mind and concentrated on getting to her desk. She had an hour before the press conference.
She finally made it to work and was sitting at her desk. She attempted to clean all the cluttered papers off her desk but heard her name called.
“Charlotte?”
She looked up and saw that it was her editor.
He walked over. His glasses were as thick as two coke bottles pressed together. He wore a bow tie and a sleeveless sweater over a button down shirt. He was Jewish, in his mid-50’s, and had a receding hairline that he tried to cover by combing as many strands from the sides up and over it as humanly possible. Charlotte was used to it. It was his thing.
Blue Justice Page 2