Black Viper

by Christopher Speight

  “You do know it’s not illegal for him to drink alcohol on his own porch, right?”

  Frank smirked and nodded his head.

  “Of course, I know that. But he doesn’t.”

  “Franklin Stone, you are something else,” Amber said as she pulled her seat belt across her chest. “So, should we keep an eye on him?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he didn’t do it.”

  12

  Captain Marie Snyder paced back and forth in her office with her phone pressed against her ear. Every now and then she would run her hand through her short blond hair. She’d been captain of the force for the last fifteen years and had earned the respect of not only her peers but also the chief, deputy chief and the mayor. She was no-nonsense and tough as nails. With two kids and a husband who believed that chores around the house were women’s work, she had no choice but to have an iron backbone.

  Marie Snyder wasn’t a very big woman. She stood at a shade under five feet five inches tall and weighed one hundred twenty-eight pounds. But what she lacked in stature, she more than made up for in grit and determination. It wasn’t easy to tell when she was upset because she played her feelings so close to the vest. Although Frank and Amber had both seen that side of their boss before, she never let it show regarding personal matters. Captain Snyder had a great poker face and usually kept her personal life separate from her private life. None of her coworkers ever knew what was going on with her outside of work because she never brought her home life to the job. Unfortunately for her, the situation with her husband had become toxic and it was taking a lot more effort for her to keep the two entities apart.

  “I don’t give damn! Do what you have to do,” she screamed into the phone before pressing the end button. Frank and Amber remained quiet as their boss plopped down in her chair and crossed her legs. Ten seconds later, she took a deep breath and looked from Frank to Amber.

  “Okay, what have you got for me on the Kevin Broadnax murder?”

  Amber looked at Frank and nodded in his direction. In light of Captain Snyder’s mood and the fact that Frank was the senior detective, she was more than willing to let him give her the details. She watched as Frank pulled out his note pad and flipped through a few pages.

  “Well, ma’am, after interviewing the victim’s girlfriend, a Miss Victoria Baker, we later received a call from her friend and employee, a Miss. Wendy Lomax, who informed me that she wanted to meet with us. We met with her roughly an hour ago and she had something very interesting to say about who she thought should be the prime suspect, a Mr. Saffold Baker.”

  The captain’s eyebrows shot up. “Same last name, huh? So, who is he? Victoria’s ex-husband?” she asked.

  “Nope. Saffold is Victoria’s brother. Apparently, he’s a racist piece of crap who despises African Americans.”

  “Interesting. Well, tell me, Detective. You’ve met this clown. Does the shoe fit?”

  “Not to me. I think he just likes being a racist prick.”

  Snyder looked at Amber. “What do you think, Detective Davis? You’ve been pretty quiet during this meeting.”

  “I agree with Detective Stone. He’s definitely an asshole, but I don’t think he’s a killer.”

  “Damn! Okay, keep working on the case and let me know if anything shakes out. As a matter of fact, maybe you should pay the victim’s girlfriend another visit. I don’t like the fact that she knew her brother hated her man and didn’t say anything about it. If she failed to mention him, there could be someone else she purposely left out of the conversation.”

  “Got you, Captain,” Frank said. “You want us to–––”

  Frank couldn’t get his question out fully before the ringtone on Captain Snyder’s cell phone blared out. His eyebrow’s shot up when he recognized the song.

  “Independent Women?” Amber mumbled.

  “Don’t judge me! Just get the hell out of my office and find out who killed Kevin Broadnax! And close the door on your way out!”

  “You just had to say something didn’t you?” Frank said, shaking his head.

  “My bad. Are we going to question Victoria Baker today, or do you want to wait until tomorrow to hear what kind of lie she has in store?”

  “What makes you think she’s going to lie?”

  “Why wouldn’t she? She already left out an important detail.”

  “That’s only because she was trying to protect her brother. I can guarantee that when we talk to her, she won’t be able to name anyone else.”

  “Then it can wait until tomorrow?”

  Frank thought for a minute. Although he was ready to call it a day, he, much like his captain, also didn’t like the fact that Victoria had failed to mention her brother.

  “Tell you what. Let’s head over to Victoria’s bar. If she’s there, we’ll talk to her. If she’s not, we’ll just call it a night.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Let’s roll.”

  The two detectives then headed out of the precinct, hopped in the unmarked car, and headed to Vicky’s.

  13

  Victoria’s right hand shook slightly as she stared into a glass of white wine. She’d been sitting in the back of her bar for the last hour crying. Her chest heaved in and out as her tears dripped into the glass. Every few seconds, she would raise the glass to her lips and prepare to take a sip. But as soon as she did, the thought of her unborn child popped into her head and quickly caused her to lower the glass back down. Thoughts of her murdered boyfriend continued to spiral through her mind. The shock of him being killed was beginning to set in, and the reality of the situation was hitting her like a freight train. Through tear-soaked eyes, she looked up to see Wendy walking toward her. With a warm, reassuring smile on her face, Wendy walked over and placed a hand on Victoria’s shoulder.

  “How are you holding up?” Wendy asked.

  All Victoria could do was shrug weakly. A faint smile was on her face as she tried to be strong during what was one of the hardest periods of her life.

  “I would say that I’m okay, but that would be a lie.”

  “I know sweetie, I know.”

  Wendy placed her hand on the side of Victoria’s head and pulled it onto her shoulder. She used her other hand to wipe Victoria’s tears from her face. After doing that, she slowly reached down and took the glass of wine out of her hand.

  “You don’t need this, my friend.”

  “I know,” Victoria said, nodding her head in agreement. “I just don’t understand this, Wendy. Who could have done such a thing? As far as I know, Kevin didn’t have any enemies.”

  “Are you sure, Vicky? I mean, everyone has someone who doesn’t like them. Haters are everywhere.”

  “Well, I’ve never met any of his. The only person who I can think of who doesn’t like him is Saffold, and I know damn well he didn’t do this.”

  Wendy took a deep breath. A tug-of-war ensued in her mind as to whether she should convey her concerns to her friend. On several occasions, Wendy had noticed the hatred in Saffold’s eyes whenever Kevin was around. She didn’t know if Saffold was the murderer, but she did know that he hated Kevin with a passion. Deciding that she didn’t want to offend her friend, Wendy remained silent. Victoria must’ve felt the vibe because she turned her head and looked up to face her friend.

  “What?”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Exactly. You didn’t say anything. You’re never quiet, so I know something is on your mind when you don’t talk. What is it?”

  “Vicky, I really don’t know if I should say what I’m thinking.”

  “Wendy, you’re not only an employee here. I consider you my friend. No matter what you say, that’s not going to change.”

  Wendy blew out a slow deep breath.

  “Okay. . . I mean . . . and I’m just asking Vicky. How sure are you that Saffold didn’t do it? It was no secret that he hated Kevin.”

  Victoria closed her eyes as, onc
e again, tears began to run down her face. She’d been trying to block out the possibility that her brother was responsible for her boyfriend’s death. Hearing it from someone else however, was now forcing her to at least consider it.

  “Not very, Wendy, I’m not,” Victoria said, crying harder now. “But I didn’t want to tell the police that. If I had done that, and my brother found out, he would never forgive me.”

  “I understand that. But you owe it to Kevin, as well as his baby growing in your belly to find out who did this to him. Now, I hope Saffold is innocent, I honestly do but keeping things from the police isn’t going to help anything.”

  “No, it isn’t,” a voice sounded out. When Victoria and Wendy turned their heads, they found Detectives Stone and Davis standing there. Lingering behind them was her manager Greg. Victoria instantly got angry. She didn’t appreciate her privacy being violated.

  “Detectives, is there a reason that you’re standing there eavesdropping on our conversation?”

  Both detectives walked over to where she sat and stood in front of her. Even though they both felt compassion for her loss, they were a little ticked off that she didn’t inform them of her brother’s dislike for her boyfriend.

  “Miss Baker, the last time we talked to you, we asked you if there were anyone you could think of that would want to see your boyfriend harmed and you told us no. Now we find out that your brother hated him. Why did you lie?” Detective Stone asked.

  “I didn’t lie.”

  “You omitted the truth. In a murder investigation, that’s the same as lying.”

  “Look, my brother had nothing to do with this, okay?” Even as the words left her mouth, Victoria herself was beginning to wonder. She’d tried to call her brother a number of times since the murder and he had yet to pick up his cell phone.

  “And you know this how?” Amber chimed in.

  “I just know!” Victoria yelled.

  “First of all, Miss Baker, calm down. And second, that’s not a good enough answer. If you know something you need to tell us.”

  Frank was starting to get aggravated. He couldn’t understand why Victoria was keeping things from him.

  “Okay, look, Detectives. The last time I saw my brother was the day Kevin was killed. He was leaving the bar while I was going back in, and Kevin was alive.”

  “How long were you in the bar?” Amber asked.

  “I don’t remember. Five, ten minutes maybe.”

  “Well, it takes less time than that to kill someone,” Amber said.

  Although Frank had voiced his disbelief that Saffold was the killer, she still had her doubts.

  “Look, the longer you withhold information from us, the longer it’s going to take for us to find your boyfriend’s killer. And like Wendy said, you owe it to your murdered boyfriend as well as your unborn child to help us find the killer. Now, is there anything else that you’re not telling us?”

  “No,” Victoria said softly. The two detectives stared at her for a few more seconds before turning and heading for the exit.

  “We’ll be in touch,” Frank said as they disappeared through the door.

  14

  Although he knew that his father and sister were going to be upset about him bailing out on their family game night, Frank Jr. felt that they would just have to get over it. There would be other game nights, but if he declined Kisha’s invitation to go to the movies with him, he might not get another chance. Frank Jr. liked Kisha. A lot. He’d been trying to figure out a way to ask her out for a couple of weeks but every time he got ready to do it, he got cold feet. It was just his good fortune that she liked him just as much as he liked her. He lay on his bed, with a large smile plastered on his face as he talked to Kisha on his cell phone.

  “Now, I know you’re going to buy me some popcorn when we get there, right?” Kisha asked.

  “Of course. You know I got you,” Frank Jr. said smoothly.

  “Okay, I was just asking. I’ve heard about your cheapskate behind,” Kisha said laughing.

  “Cheapskate? Who in the heck told you that I was a cheapskate?”

  “Don’t worry about all that. I just wanted to make sure that I wasn’t dating someone who didn’t want to spend any money on me.”

  “Whatever. Don’t believe everything you hear. . . Wait, did you just say that we were dating?”

  “Uh, yeah, I did. You got a problem with me saying that?”

  “Not at all.” The smile that was already on Frank Jr.’s face got so wide that his cheeks threatened to crack. It temporarily disappeared when his bedroom door flew open, and Rhonda burst in.

  “Rhonda! What the heck is wrong with you bursting in my room like that?” he yelled.

  “Daddy wants to know what kind of snacks you want for the monopoly game later. It’s your turn to choose.”

  Frank Jr. stared at his sister in anger. He wanted to get up and strangle her. The smirk on her face caused his nostrils to flare.

  “Rhonda, get your nosy behind out of my room!”

  “I ain’t nosy,” Rhonda said, right before asking her brother who he was talking to.

  “None of your business! Get out of my room!”

  “Not until you answer my question.”

  “Like I said, it’s none of your business.”

  “Not that question, dummy. The other question. Daddy wants to know what snacks you want for game night.”

  “Let me call you back, Kisha.”

  “Is everything okay?” Kisha asked.

  “Yeah. I just have to handle something with my sister right quick.”

  “Okay. We’re still going to the movies tonight, right?”

  “You doggone right, we’re still going.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you at Richmond Mall around five thirty.”

  “Okay. Talk to you later.” After disconnecting the call, Frank Jr. noticed the twisted expression on his sister’s face.

  “What the heck is wrong with you?”

  “Did you say Kisha? As in Kisha Montgomery?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “You talking to her now?”

  “None of your business!”

  “Ughhh! I can’t stand that broad!”

  “So what? Knowing you, she probably can’t stand you either.” Frank Jr. got off his bed and headed for the door.

  “Like I care! And you still ain’t answered my question about the snacks yet.”

  “And I’m not going to answer it either. Where’s Dad?”

  “Find him yourself, butt head,” Rhonda spat as she stormed down the hallway to her room.

  Waving his hand in her direction, Jr. turned to head in the opposite direction but stopped when he saw his father coming up the stairs.

  “What in the world is wrong with you two? What’s all this shouting about?”

  “Dad, I need to talk to you about something,” Jr. told his father.

  “Talk to me about what?” Frank asked. His son looked back toward his sister’s room and then back at his father.

  “It’s private.”

  Frank’s entire expression changed. He prayed to God that his son didn’t want to talk about sex. Even though he’d given him ‘the talk’, Frank had told his son during the talk that if he ever felt like he was ready to have sex to come and talk to him. He thought back to Sadie telling him that she’d overheard him talking on the phone and immediately started to sweat.

  “Dad? Did you hear me? I need to talk to you.”

  “Okay, son. Let’s go in the basement then.”

  Frank Jr. followed his father down the stairs, through the kitchen, and down into the basement. Detective Stone’s basement was the typical man cave. Being that he was a lifetime Cleveland Browns fan, football paraphernalia was littered throughout. While one wall held multiple posters of Browns’ legends of yesteryear, including Jim Brown, Brian Sipe, and Bernie Kosar, the one directly across from it held posters of newer heroes like Myles Garrett, Nick Chubb, and Baker Mayfield. In the middle of those two
walls hung a sixty-inch big screen television. The carpet was brown, with a large orange helmet in the middle. Underneath the television hung three jerseys encased in glass. All three of them were signed by the players to whom the numbers belonged. One jersey belonged to Greg Pruitt. One belonged to Bernie Kosar. One belonged to Jim Brown. Even the furniture was brown. The place was a Browns’ fan’s dream. Frank Jr. had always thought that his father had gone overboard while constructing the place, but out of respect for his father’s love for the team, he kept his opinion to himself.

  “Have a seat son,” Frank said, as he reached into the minifridge and took out a beer.

  “Let me get one of those, Pop.”

  Shrugging his shoulders, Frank took out a second beer and extended it to his son. A surprised look dropped across his face as he reached for the bottle. His hand had almost reached it when his father snatched it back.

  “Oh, I’m gonna need to see your ID first.”

  “Huh?”

  “Your ID. What? You don’t have ID?”

  “Dad, you know I don’t.”

  “Oh well. No beer for you then,” Frank Sr. said, laughing.

  “Man.”

  “Okay son. What do you want to talk to me about?” he asked nervously.

  “Well, it’s about game night later on.”

  Frank breathed a sigh of relief. For once he was relieved to be wrong.

  “Oh yeah? What about it? Did your sister tell you what I said? It’s your turn to pick what snacks we’re having.”

  “I know, Dad. But the thing about it is that I’m not going to be able to play tonight.”

  Frank Jr. stared at his son. The three of them had been having a game night on Sunday evenings for the last six months. Frank felt that it was important for them to come together as a family and heal together after visiting his wife on Saturday, so Frank Jr. had better have a damn good reason for blowing them off.

  “Son, you know how I feel about game night,” Frank said, a frown on his face. “Game night is a way for us to heal after seeing your mother on Saturdays.”