Blind Delusion

by Dorothy Phaire

  “Did you know I used to be stripper in my younger days?” she said, “Men told me I had Tina Turner legs. You like Tina Turner, don’t you Detective?”

  “What do you think? I’m not dead,” said Bradford and wiped the sweat from his brow.

  Irene leaned forward, stared into his widening eyes while he tried unsuccessfully not to look directly at her breasts. Irene pointed to her satin bra. “I’m wearing matching thongs,” she said and licked her bottom lip, “would you like to see them?”

  Bradford turned and glanced briefly at the blacked out mirror behind him. Sweat beads settled on his forehead. His breathing increased but he sat speechless and watched as Irene re-crossed her legs to the other side.

  “You’re a man of the law so let’s negotiate a quid pro quo,” she smiled seductively, “In other words, you do something for me and I do something for you.”

  Bradford stood up, removed a handkerchief from his jacket and quickly brushed it across his face. “Yeah Mrs. Adams, you can do something for me. You can tell me the truth in exchange for not getting cuffed and fingerprinted. That'll be your quid pro quo. Your daughter’s been jerking my chain all morning and I’m not about to waste all goddamn day on you too.”

  “I don’t like your tone or your language, Detective Bradford,” said Irene and leaped off the table. She straightened her skirt and re-buttoned her blouse. Then snatched up her jacket and mink coat from the back of the chair. “I want to call my lawyer and my husband now. If you aren’t going to charge me, release me immediately. I know my rights.”

  Bradford stormed out of the interrogation room enraged. He ordered an officer standing nearby to direct Mrs. Adams to a telephone. When Deek and Renee walked up to his desk, his attention remained fixed on the affidavit in support of arrest warrant. He didn’t look up although he knew they were standing there.

  “Mel, you can’t take your frustration out on Brenda just because her mother’s a piece of work,” said Deek. He tried to convince his partner to wait until Monday to make an arrest but his argument fell on deaf ears.

  “Sorry, Young Blood. I’m filing formal charges against her right now. In my book, the spouse is always a prime suspect unless somebody can show me otherwise and so far, that hasn't happened.”

  Lt. Bradford ordered an officer to escort Brenda downstairs to the receiving area to be booked. Her motives: an insurance payout of 50 thousand dollars, and secondly, a woman scorned when she discovered her husband cheating on her with his old girlfriend. Bradford told Deek and Renee he had enough circumstantial evidence to detain Brenda Johnson based on probable cause. And, since he also thought her mother was involved—in fact Mrs. Adams might have even been the mastermind, he’d keep looking for evidence so he could eventually book her too. Bradford handed them his warrant and supporting documentation to review.

  On the affidavit in support of arrest, Brenda faced federal fraud and first-degree murder charges that accused her of improperly trying to collect on Jerome Johnson’s life insurance policy after allegedly setting or conspiring with an accomplice to start a fire with the intent to cause her husband’s death. An additional charge listed was intent to destroy property. The charges included information from witnesses and several neighbors.

  After reading the affidavit, Deek threw up his hands and walked away. Renee followed him to his desk and sank in the chair in front of him. Brenda’s lawyer, Mr. K. C. Bloodstone, would have to perform a miracle to get her out of jail tonight, thought Renee.

  “So what happens to Brenda now?” she asked Deek with a worried look on her face.

  “Now that she’s been arrested, she’ll appear for arraignment in D. C. Superior Courthouse on Monday. The judge will weigh her lawyer’s argument and determine initial pre-trail detention status at the arraignment hearing. That means whether she stays in jail or gets out on bail.”

  “What are her chances of getting out on bail?”

  He shrugged his shoulders, “Don’t know. If we go by past precedent, not very good.”

  “But it really comes down to how good her lawyer is,” said Deek, “and I hear K. C. Bloodstone is one of the best criminal attorneys in D. C. Then it could also depend on who the judge is.”

  “So basically, you have no idea,” said Renee, folding her arms with a frustrated sigh.

  “Generally speaking when somebody is accused of a violent crime like murder, her attorney will have to convince the judge that she’s no danger to the community, there’s no risk of flight and that she won’t get involved in the kind of conduct that she’s accused of while out on bail. The District’s pre-trial contention laws are so severe I doubt that she’ll be able to get out before trial.”

  “My God, this is terrible. She could be locked up for months with no one but Irene Adams to care for little Justin,” said Renee. “Though it sounds like if Bradford gets his way Irene Adams will be occupying her own cell. I doubt that any of her relatives can take the baby to his sitter’s every day. And, who would pay the sitter? That is, if Bradford doesn’t try to arrest Mrs. Adams too as an accomplice.”

  “I don’t think Mel wants to tangle with Mrs. Adams based on nothing but his intuition after what we just saw in the interrogation room,” said Deek, with a subtle grin. “He is going to have to dig for some credible evidence.”

  “Deek, this isn’t funny. Those charges against Brenda are serious. We need to do something. The real killer is still out there somewhere.”

  “Sweetheart, I realize it’s serious and I didn’t mean to sound glib. But I don’t know what else I can do. Mel is lead investigator on this case and he can pretty much do as he damn well pleases. In his mind, he already has the real killer in custody and he’s working on getting her accomplice put away too.”

  “It’s absurd to think Brenda had anything to do with this. We can’t just sit here and let this happen to her.”

  At that moment Marvin Adams, Brenda’s father and her attorney, K. C. Bloodstone, a squat, no-neck man, walked in. Renee leaped from her chair and re-introduced herself to Mr. Adams, whom she had met at Jerome’s funeral a few days ago. She identified herself to Mr. Bloodstone as Brenda’s close friend and employer. Renee asked the attorney what could he do to get Brenda released on bond with charges as serious as suspicion of murder, arson, insurance fraud, and filing a false report.

  “Dr. Hayes, it’s obvious your concern for my client and her little boy’s welfare is genuine,” said Mr. Bloodstone. The attorney explained his strategy for getting Brenda out on bond, while Mr. Adams nodded in approval.

  “I reviewed the arrest warrant and intend to use the fact that the police don’t have any physical evidence against her,” said Bloodstone. “I’ll suggest that she be on an electronic monitor inside her parents’ house until trial. In her favor, Mrs. Johnson has no prior convictions.”

  “I should be able to convince the Court that she’s not a danger to the community because she won’t be out of the house and won’t flee because of the ankle bracelet,” said the attorney using animated hand gestures. “I’ve just come from speaking to my client in lockup and we’ll be entering a plea of not guilty to all charges. If the judge grants bail, the longest it should take to get her out is one week.”

  “So she’ll be spending the weekend in jail for something she didn’t do,” said Renee. “I know Brenda’s innocent and shouldn’t be locked up at all. She’s so fragile after losing her husband and having her baby missing for an entire day. I really don’t know how much more she can take.”

  “Mr. Bloodstone, I’ll put up whatever bond money is necessary to get my daughter released,” said Mr. Adams. “Now, where is that Detective who had her arrested? Lt. Bradford, I believe my wife said his name is.”

  Renee pointed Bradford out to Marvin Adams. Detective Bradford had his back to them and was talking to a police officer.

  “I’ll contact yo
u later this evening, Mr. Adams,” said Bloodstone, “I’m on my way to file a motion to have your daughter’s bond status reviewed and request that it be expedited. Don’t worry, Mr. Adams, we’ll have Brenda out of here and back home with you and Mrs. Adams as quickly as possible.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Bloodstone,” said Brenda’s father, grasping the lawyer’s outstretched hand, “I have every confidence in you, sir.”

  Marvin Adams approached Lt. Bradford from behind and demanded to see his wife.

  “Sure thing Mr. Adams, your wife’s waiting for you in the coffee room. By the way, you have my deepest condolences, Mr. Adams,” said Bradford, “and I’m not talking about your late son-in-law.” Bradford walked away. He didn’t see the confused look on Marvin Adams face.

  Deek clasped his fingers together and rested folded hands against his chin as he reflected on the case. “There’s still one thing that doesn’t add up, Renee.”

  “What’s that, Deek?”

  “Brenda said she was certain her husband had stopped using drugs and there was no indication of problems at work. Alonzo Woods, Jerome’s coworker basically said the same thing when I questioned him at the funeral, remember?”

  “Yes, that’s right. What’s your point?”

  “If Jerome was clean, why did he fail a random drug test that resulted in his termination?” Deek asked. “If everything had been going so great prior to him getting fired, what suddenly happened to change all that?”

  “Perhaps Brenda missed the signs,” said Renee, “Quitting is not as difficult as staying quit. Addicts often incur so many physical and mental changes that they need to get their fix merely to sustain homeostasis.”

  “Homeo-what?”

  “In layman’s terms, withdrawal can be very rough. It’s easy for a recovered crack addict to slip back, especially when pressures escalate.”

  “What pressures though? He had a decent job, a loving wife, nice kid.”

  “And an ex-girlfriend he couldn’t stay away from. That’s pressure right there,” said Renee.

  “Exactly. I think we should backtrack and talk to Leenae Lewis again,” he said, “but first I want to stop by Union Delivery Service where Jerome worked and get a copy of those drug test results from Jerome’s boss. Deek searched his PDA for the telephone number. “Ah, here it is, Odessa Dillon. Let’s see, it’s after two now. She might still be there on a Saturday.”

  “Mrs. Dillon is also Veda’s supervisor. From the tidbits of information that Veda has told me about working for her, I think you may be right,” said Renee. “I hear this woman is a classic workaholic.”

  Deek called Odessa Dillon at UDS and caught her at her desk just before she was about to leave for the day. She agreed to wait for him since he said he could be there in twenty minutes and it wouldn’t take long. As for Miss Lewis, they decided to pay her a surprise visit afterwards. Deek helped Renee with her coat and they left without telling his partner anything. Bradford had moved on to his next case and they knew he would not pursue any other leads to help Brenda. It was up to Deek and Renee to find new leads and find them fast so that Brenda wouldn’t have to be away from her child any longer than necessary for a crime they truly believed she did not commit.

  Chapter 39

  Twenty minutes later, Deek turned into Union Delivery Service’s rear parking lot. He maneuvered his low-to-the-ground, tire screecher around drivers handling ‘tractor trailer’ sized cabs. It was a busy late Saturday afternoon. The lot was full of UDS’s regular blue trucks pulling in, as well as others on their way out to deliver packages. Deek parked in one of the few visitor spots. Renee did not expect to find Veda in her office since she was normally off on Saturdays.

  Deek and Renee walked carefully through the loading dock area. They passed drivers that steered their trucks from one bay door to another, receiving incoming and outgoing packages to be unloaded, sorted, and reloaded. Deek went over to speak to a security guard, while Renee stood in the walkway and looked around. Suddenly, she spotted Alonzo Woods standing in front of Bay 25 smoking a cigarette. Alonzo loafed around and watched as a petite-framed woman struggled to unload packages from his truck. At that moment he noticed Renee staring at him. He stamped out his cigarette then strolled up to her in a cool, bopping gait.

  “Yeah, Miss Dillon just gave me a raise to 50 K this morning,” he bragged. “I been shifting in the yard for the past few days. That means all I gotta do is sit on my sweet ass all day long and move my cab from bay to bay,” he grinned, “I ain’t gotta make no deliveries or pick up no packages. Those other losers gotta do all the heavy loadin’ and unloadin’.”

  Renee realized he was trying to emphasize his importance since that was his typical behavior at Good Looks Salon where he was always trying to impress the girls at the beauty parlor. “Good for you, Mr. Woods. Congratulations on your promotion.”

  “You like barbecue, Dr. Renee?” he asked, “’cause I know this little rib joint around the corner. Man, the meat just melts off the bones. They got cornbread, biscuits, baked beans, ‘tata salad, you name it.”

  “I, uh, don’t …”

  “Maybe you might lemme take you one day,” he winked.

  “Didn’t you tell us yesterday at Jerome’s funeral that you’d be home this morning in case Detective Hamilton and his partner, Detective Bradford wanted to question you further? So what are you doing here at work today? It’s a good thing they didn’t waste their time going over to your house to see you.”

  “Well uh, yeah, guess I did tell ya’ll that. But I decided this morning to get the hell outta Dodge. My wife, Izza’s on the rampage with her damn ‘honey do’ list. I had to come to work so I could take it easy and get me some peace and quiet. Izza was spittin’ bullets when I left. I know I’ma catch hell when I get home. So may as well keep my ass out all night since I’ma catch it anyway,” he grinned. His relaxed body stance straightened up abruptly and the suggestive leer on his face turned serious when he saw Deek walking towards them.

  “Mr. Woods, how are you?” said Deek, shaking Alonzo’s hand. “If you’re not too busy right now, can you direct us to your supervisor’s office. She’s expecting us.”

  “Sure Detective, Miss Dillon said you was comin’ by to pick up Jerome’s things outta his locker. I boxed everything up for you. I didn’t know Dr. Renee was coming too. Anyway, follow me, I’ll take ya’ll to Miss Dillon’s office.”

  Alonzo pointed out an office with the name Odessa Dillon, Supervisor, printed in gold lettering on the closed door. Alonzo pimped away, trying to be cool and nonchalant on his way back to the yard. Deek knocked and waited for Mrs. Dillon to invite them in.

  “Who is it?” said a firm voice behind the door.

  “Detective Hamilton, Mrs. Dillon. And Dr. Renee Hayes.” They heard lumbering sounds and heavy footsteps approach and the click of a door latch as Mrs. Dillon unlocked and opened the door. A fairly attractive, mid-fiftyish woman with a round, overly made-up face stood before them. Creamy eye shadow in shimmering bronze made her honey-colored, oval eyes glint like jewels.

  “Won’t ya’ll come in,” said the robust woman, wearing a tailored beige pantsuit and a forced smile on her caramel complexioned face. She motioned them forward into her office and returned to her desk. When she walked, her extra-wide, one-inch pumps suffered under her weight. The coppery toned medium-length hair flipped up at the edges in a relaxed bob softened her square jaw and gave Mrs. Dillon a polished, well-kept look of professionalism.

  “Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice, Mrs. Dillon,” said Deek in his deep, mellow voice, “We won’t take up much of your time.” Deek and Renee still stood near the doorway and did not remove their coats. The stark, white walls and shades of khaki and pale army green gave the office a chilly, distressed aura.

  “I hope not, Sugar. Actually, I was on my way home when you called.
I’m not sure what else I can tell you Detective Hamilton. I already told everything I know to your partner on Tuesday.” Mrs. Dillon spoke in a mid-western accent and volunteered that she hailed from Houston, Texas but had lived in Washington, D. C. for the past twenty years yet still couldn’t completely shake her roots. She unbuttoned the double-breasted jacket over her thick middle and sat down behind her desk.

  “There’s Jerome’s locker contents, already boxed up and ready to go,” she said, pointing to a box sitting on a round conference table. “I doubt there’s anything in there that you’d consider evidence, Detective. I already went through it, of course.”

  “Of course,” nodded Deek, and walked over to the box to check its contents. He pulled out pictures of Brenda and Baby Justin. A bottle of shampoo, lotion, a tube of deodorant, a change of clothes, and a picture of Leenae Lewis in a heart-shaped frame with an inscription ‘Always yours’ written in the bottom corner.

  “Looks like you were right, Mrs. Dillon,” he said and packed everything back in the box, “I’ll make sure Jerome Johnson’s family gets his possessions.”

  “That’s good, Darlin’,” she curved her full lips, painted and glossed, into a half-smile.

  “’Course, I meant to mail that stuff to his parents’ address but hadn’t gotten around to it yet. Jerome left in such a huff two weeks ago on Friday when he failed that drug test. He didn’t even bother to clear out his locker,” Odessa explained.

  “I’ve been pulling double-shifts myself right along with my guys so it just slipped my little ‘ole mind to take care of it. You know, we at Union Delivery Service aim to please and serve our customers 24 hours a day.”

  Renee thought to herself, this is UDS and they don’t have time to ship a terminated employee’s possessions? Odessa Dillon stood up as if to see them out when Deek helped Renee out of her coat. He sat down on one of the contemporary chairs in front of Mrs. Dillon’s desk and draped his overcoat across the arm of the chair. Renee sat down nearby on the muted sage sofa. Mrs. Dillon pursed her lips but followed suit and sat back down as well. Renee noticed a stack of fashion magazines spread out on the chrome-rimmed, glass end table. She stared curiously at a glossy folder labeled National Park Seminary Historic District that rested on top of an end table.