Frank leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment. He ran his hand across his face and looked up toward the ceiling.
“Well, it is an interesting theory, but I didn’t get the feeling that Wendy had any romantic interest in the victim. From what I could see, she really wants to be there for her friend.”
“She could be faking it. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve run across a vengeful woman trying to gain revenge on a man that has done her wrong.”
“True.” Frank continued to think about his partner’s theory as he used the knife and fork to cut his pancakes into pieces. He picked up the bottle of maple syrup and watched as it slowly came out of the bottle and streamed down onto his plate.
“Well?” Amber asked, anxious to know his thoughts.
“Okay, let’s say that your theory is somewhat correct. Hell, let’s say that it’s all the way correct. There’s just one problem with your it. There is no way to prove anything you just said.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s the frustrating part,” Amber acknowledged. “What the hell is that?” Amber asked, looking past Frank and out of the window. When Frank turned around to see what she was referring to, she stuck her fork into a piece of his turkey sausage resting on his plate and popped it into her mouth.
“Oh, never mind. I thought I saw a deer run through the parking lot.”
Frank looked at her and cocked his head. “A deer?”
With a smile and nod, Amber quickly chewed up the food and swallowed it. Frank stared at her for a few seconds before breaking into a wide smile.
“Detective Davis, why are you trying to play me?”
“What are you talking about, Detective Stone?”
“You think I don’t know how many pieces of sausage I had on my plate?”
Amber broke into laughter. “Hey, I was trying to save you.”
“Is that right? And just how were you trying to do that?”
“By lowering your cholesterol. Do you know how much grease was in that one piece of sausage I snatched off your plate?”
“I can’t say that I do, but I do know how full of shit you are!”
Frank got up from the table laughing out loud. He walked toward the back of the restaurant and headed toward the restroom. While he was gone, the waitress came back over.
“Do you know if the gentleman wanted more coffee or not?” she asked Amber.
“No, he’s good. Hubby never drinks more than two cups of coffee in a day.”
“Hubby?” the waitress asked, disappointedly.
Amber smiled wickedly.
By this time, Frank was making his way back to the table. The moment he got there, he could tell the vibe had changed. A small degree of tension floated in the air as he sat back down.
“Something wrong, ladies?”
“Not at all sir. I was just about to pour you another cup of coffee, but your wife told me that you never drank more than two cups a day.”
Frank’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that right?”
“Yes honey. You know how your acid reflux acts up when you have too much caffeine.”
Amber batted her eyes at Frank, who just shook his head.
“You heard the wife. No more coffee.”
“Yes sir.”
The waitress quickly removed the dishes from the table and left. As soon as she was out of earshot, Amber doubled over in laughter.
“Amber, why did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“You know what. Why in the world did you tell that young lady I was your husband?”
“I didn’t tell her that. I said hubby never has more than two cups. I didn’t say my hubby never has more than two cups. Besides, if she thinks you’re married, you don’t have to worry about her bothering you again.”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
The change in the waitress’s mood was evident when she came back over and placed the bill on the table. After giving Frank a light smile, she rolled her eyes at Amber and walked away.
“Wow, somebody looks upset,” Amber said.
After examining the bill, Frank took his wallet out of his pocket and pulled out two twenty-dollar bills. The price of the meal was only twenty-three dollars but because the waitress made Frank feel good by flirting with him, he decided to leave a very generous tip. Frank loved his wife very much, but like any other man, having his ego stroked appealed to him. As he and his partner headed for the exit, Frank glanced over his shoulder. It wasn’t a surprise to him to see the waitress staring at him. Frank didn’t want to give the young lady a false sense of hope, so he quickly turned and hurried out the door.
20
“I still can’t believe you allowed that waitress to think we were married,” Frank said as he held the door open for Amber.
“I can’t believe you’re still on that. What? You trying to get with her or something?” Amber asked. Her voice was a little sharper than she intended it to be, and Frank picked up on it.
“What the heck is wrong with you?” he asked.
Realizing that she may have sounded a bit harsh, she softened her stance. “Nothing, partner. I’m just saying.”
Amber forced a smile. She had to be very careful not to let her personal feelings for her partner show. Ever since she’d been transferred to Frank’s precinct, Amber had secretly had a crush on him. Although she did feel bad for Frank after his wife suffered that terrible accident, she had pretty much made up her mind that she would go after him when the time was right.
“Well, you can stop just saying. That young lady is young enough to be my daughter.”
“Oh, I’m sure she doesn’t give a damn about that.”
The two detectives made their way to their respective desks. They were just about to sit down and get to work on the Kevin Broadnax case when Captain Snyder’s door flew open.
“Stone! Davis! Get in here!”
Frank and Amber looked at each other, confused. Judging from her tone, Frank could tell that whatever his boss had to say was important.
“Close the door,” she said when they entered her office. Frank noticed an exasperated look on his boss’s face. Whatever she was about to tell them wasn’t going to be good news.
“What’s up Captain?” Amber anxiously asked.
“I’m going to need the two of you to get out to Euclid Creek.”
Snyder opened her mouth to continue but Amber cut her off. “Euclid Creek? What’s going on there?”
“Davis, if you give me a damn second, I’ll tell you.”
“Sorry, ma’am.”
“Now, like I was saying. I’m going to need you two to get out to Euclid Creek. Someone jogging in the area stumbled upon two bodies. A man and a woman. Both deceased.”
“Uh, okay,” Frank said.
“Something wrong, Bama?” Captain Snyder asked. It was a name that she often called him in reference to his being born in Alabama.
“No ma’am. I just thought that you would want us to concentrate on the Kevin Broadnax murder.”
“I do. But I also want you to check this one out. Since both murders happened within a couple of days of each other, maybe there’s a correlation between the two. If there isn’t, I’ll put someone else on it. If there is, it’s in your laps.”
“Okay Cap. We’re on it. Let’s roll Amber.”
“Oh, and Detectives? The next time you two stop off to get breakfast, I expect to be digging into a stack of pancakes five minutes after you arrive at work.”
“How in the hell did you know we stopped to get breakfast?” Frank asked.
The captain simply smiled and pointed to his shirt. Frank reached down with two fingers and pulled his shirt out far enough to look down at it. He frowned when he saw the small drop of syrup lying on it.
“You got it Captain. Pancakes on us next time. Now I know what to get you for Christmas, Frank,” Amber said, laughing.
“Oh yeah? And just what would that be?”
“A bib,” she said, as she headed out of the
captain’s office ahead of him.
Euclid Creek was roughly two miles from the precinct, so it didn’t take them long to get there. After parking, the detectives got out of their car and surveyed the area. As they expected, a plethora of police officers was doing their best to contain the scene. At least twenty spectators were gathered around trying to figure out what happened, and nearly all of them were trying to get a look at the bodies.
“Look at all these damn people. I’ll bet you twenty dollars to a doughnut that not one of them saw anything,” Amber said.
“Hell, you could make it a thousand dollars to a bucket of piss and I wouldn’t take that bet,” Frank said.
The two detectives carefully walked across the dewed grass. Their seasoned eyes scanned the area for clues. Their faces were solemn as they walked under the yellow tape and focused on the two bodies.
“Good afternoon Detectives. We gotta stop meeting like this,” Timothy Jordan joked. He was hoping to ease the tension in the situation but the only thing his comment garnered were hard stares from the two detectives.
“Sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood.”
“Lighten the mood? If it were one of your loved ones lying there dead, would you want the officer’s working on the case to ‘lighten the mood’?” Amber asked.
Officer Jordan looked from one detective to the other. His mouth suddenly got dry. He was practically a rookie and here he was getting on the wrong side of two detectives because he was trying to lighten the mood. The detectives continued to stare at him for a few more seconds before they both broke into a sly grin.
“We’re just messing with you Tim,” Frank said, placing his hand on his shoulder. “But remember, it’s much different when you have to deliver this devastating news to the victim’s families.
“That is not a fun conversation at all,” Amber chimed in.
“Does it get any easier?” Jordan asked.
“Telling someone that their loved one is gone forever? No. It never gets easier doing that. As a cop, you just get used to it. What’s the deal here?”
“One GSW to the chest for him. One GSW to the forehead for her. Neither of them ever had a chance.”
Frank bent down and examined the bodies. While he was doing that, Amber pulled on a pair of gloves and took a plastic bag out of her pocket. Her eyes scanned the ground and after several minutes, she found what she was looking for. Using the end of an ink pen, she scooped a spent cartridge off the ground and placed it in the bag. She looked around for a while longer but was only able to find one shell.
“Just from the shape of the wound, I have to say that they were shot with two different guns. The hole in his chest is much larger than the one in her forehead, even though she was shot at close range and he wasn’t.”
“How do you know that?”
“Know what?” Frank asked.
“That he was shot from far away and she was shot at close range.”
“Oh brother,” Amber said as she rolled her eyes, just before shaking her head. “I keep forgetting that you’re still a rookie.”
“Take it easy Amber. The young man has to learn. To answer your question Tim, there are a couple of reasons I said that. One, Detective Davis found only one shell. Had both victims been shot at close range, she would have found both the shells. Also, I’ve seen enough gun shot wounds to know that the one this man suffered was inflicted by a rifle. Hers was inflicted by a simi-automatic pistol. A .9-millimeter Caliber.”
“Oh, okay,” Timothy said sheepishly.
“Don’t worry about it, kid. You’ll get the hang of this police thing,” Amber told him.
While Amber engaged Timothy in light banter about police work, Frank’s mind traveled back to the Kevin Broadnax murder scene. Captain Snyder had told him to see if the two cases were related, but he hadn’t found anything to lead him in that direction so far.
“Did you check their ID?” Amber asked, breaking his train of thought.
“Yeah. The man’s name is Mark Burton. The woman’s name is Serena Carter. Their addresses are the same, but I don’t think they are married. Neither one of them is wearing a wedding ring.”
“So what do you think? Are we dealing with a serial killer here?”
“I think it’s too early to tell. I can’t find anything that connects these two murders to the one we investigated the other day. It looks like we’ll be handing this off to someone else.”
Frank watched the coroner’s truck pull into Euclid Creek’s entrance. Although nothing was connecting the two cases, a nagging feeling burned in the pit of his stomach. The connection was there. He felt it. Now all he had to do was figure it out. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, interrupting his thoughts.
“Hello?”
“Yes, is this Mr. Stone?”
Frank instantly became irritated. He could never understand why someone would call a particular person’s phone and then ask if they were that person. He thought it was stupid.
“Yes, this is Mr. Stone,” he said, annoyed.
“Mr. Stone, this is Grace Ponder, principal of St. Joseph’s High School. I’m calling to inform you that Frank Jr. got into a fistfight today and I need you to come down here so we can sort this mess out.”
“A fistfight?”
“Yes, and apparently your daughter was involved.”
“I’m on my way.”
21
Frank Jr. sat in a chair in the office fuming. He and his sister were constantly at each other’s throats, but when it came to anyone else harming or disrespecting her, that’s where he drew the line. His fists were balled up tightly. His eyes were narrowed into slits. His heated gaze was aimed directly at Harold, who sat approximately twenty-five feet across from him.
Harold’s face was a bloody mess. A large horizontal cut was visible over his right eye. A blood splattered cloth was pressed against it, restricting the flow of blood. His lip was split down the middle, and although it wasn’t bleeding his nose was slightly swollen. Frank Jr. had beaten the stuffing out of him. Had it not been for the three-hundred-pound security guard standing between them, Frank Jr. would have gone after him again. He hadn’t planned on getting into a fight but the moment he saw his sister sitting there with tears in her eyes and Harold laughing, he lost it.
According to his friend Wallace, Harold had tried to strike up a conversation with Rhonda. He knew that she and Frank Jr. were siblings and planned to get even with him because he was dating Kisha. His intentions weren’t pure, and Rhonda saw right through him. She’d told him in no uncertain terms to get lost. It angered him when his friends laughed at him, prompting him to pour milk on top of her head. That was when Wallace texted Frank Jr. When Wallace finally pulled Frank Jr. off Harold, he was a thoroughly beaten young man.
Frank Jr. rocked in his chair. More than anything, he wanted to give Harold another beating. He knew that he would to have to incur the wrath of his father, but once he told him he did it to protect his sister, he was sure that his father would understand. At least he hoped he would. He was still glaring at Harold when Frank Sr. walked into the office. After looking at his son and the other young man, Frank had to work hard to suppress the smile that threatened to break through. He gave his son a stern look as he walked up to the desk.
“May I help you?” the silver-haired secretary asked. She was an older Hispanic woman who was two years short of retirement and couldn’t wait to get away from the headache of dealing with other people’s kids.
“Yes, I’m Detective Franklin Stone. I received a call from Principal Ponder informing me that my son had gotten into some kind of fight.”
Frank knew he didn’t have to reveal the fact that he was in law enforcement. He only did it to put a measure of fear into the young man with whom Frank Jr. had gotten into the fight with. He knew it was petty, but he couldn’t help himself. The receptionist picked up a phone and paged the principal to the office. While she was doing so, Frank walked over to Jr., leaned down, and whispered in his e
ar.
“You’d better have a good reason for fighting in this school and risking suspension.”
“I do,” Frank Jr. answered, still glaring at Harold.
“Stop staring at that young man like that. This is over, you understand?”
“Yes sir.”
Five seconds later, the door opened, and Principal Ponder walked in. Since Frank Jr. had never gotten in any trouble at school before, the principal had never met Frank Sr. After noticing the resemblance, she assumed correctly that Frank Jr.’s father had arrived.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Stone. Please follow me into my office.”
The principal lead Frank through a set of glass double doors and into a medium sized office. She closed the door and made her way behind a brown wooden desk. Although he was there to find out what had led up to the physical altercation between his son and the other young man and what punishment he would receive, Frank couldn’t help but notice how attractive Grace Ponder was.
She was rather tall for a woman, standing six foot even and weighing a hundred eighty pounds. She was thick in all the right places and had naturally curly hair that usually hung down to her shoulders. On this particular day however, she had it pulled back into a ponytail. Her charcoal-gray business suit fit her perfectly, hugging her every curve. Because she was insecure about her height, Principal Ponder often wore flat-soled shoes. She had a perfect set of teeth with full lips connected to a very beautiful face. Her bronze-colored skin was smooth and blemish free. The only flaw on her otherwise perfect appearance was a small scar behind her right ear. The scar stemmed from an altercation she had with her ex-husband, Myron. He was a raging alcoholic who got his kicks by beating on women. It only took Grace Ponder three months of marriage to discover what kind of monster he was, and she quickly divorced him.
Frank watched as Principal Ponder eased into her seat. She was by far the most attractive woman that he’d seen in a long time. She reminded him of Naomi Campbell. To contend with the fact that he was in the presence of a beautiful woman, Frank did what he always did in that situation. He used his thumb to rub his wedding band. It was his way of warding off the beauty and charms of any other woman. Although he would never admit it to anyone, Frank did get lonely at times, but he wasn’t about to be unfaithful to his wife.
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