Marie thought about the scene at the restaurant. She thought about what she’d heard about Timothy Jordan seemingly not liking white men. She conveyed these thoughts to the deputy chief, who, in turn ordered Hughes and Phillips to go pick Timothy Jordan up.
“We’re coming too,” Frank said.
50
Timothy Jordan plopped down on his couch and took a deep breath. The blue flannel pajamas he wore clung to his skin as a light sweat covered his frame. He’d been searching for his wallet for the last hour and, so far, had come up empty. He rubbed his temples and tried to remember where he could have lost it. He wasn’t so much worried about his credit cards. He only had two and he could easily cancel them and order replacements. But he didn’t want to have to go through the trouble of waiting in the DMV line to get another license. However, from the looks of things, that’s just what he was probably going to have to do.
Since it was his day off, Timothy figured that he’d sit around the house and relax all day. That plan changed when he decided to pay for Amber’s sandwich the night before and discovered he was missing his wallet. Now he was tearing his apartment apart, searching for it. He was just about to go through his place a second time when someone rang his doorbell. Taking another deep breath, Timothy got up and headed toward the front door.
“I’m coming,” he said, when someone pressed the doorbell a second time. When he got to the door, Timothy leaned in and peered through the peephole. He waws surprised to see Detectives Hughes, Phillips, Stone, and Davis standing there.
“Good afternoon, Detectives,” he said after opening the door. “What’s going on?”
“Good afternoon, Officer Jordan. We’re here to tie up a few loose ends concerning the Donald Snyder murder.”
“Uh, okay. Come on in.” Timothy turned and lead his co-workers inside. “So, what’s going on?”
“We just have a few questions,” Hughes stated. “Now, when you went to Captain Snyder’s house after her husband was murdered, what did you see?”
“What did I see? I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t understand the question.”
“It’s a simple question, Officer Jordan. Did you see anyone leaving the premises? Did you notice anything suspicious while you were there? And since we’re on the subject, why were you there?”
Timothy Jordan looked around at the hardened faces of the other detectives. It was then that he realized what was going on. He folded his arms defiantly.
“No, I didn’t see anyone leaving the premises. No, I didn’t notice anything suspicious, and as far as why I was there, I’m sure that you already know the answer to that question,” Timothy said, cutting his eyes to Frank and Amber. He was positive that either one or both of them had already filled Hughes and Phillips in on the argument he’d had with Donald Snyder.
“Okay. Let’s get to what you saw once you got inside.”
“The only thing I saw when I got inside was my boss grieving over her husband. You know, if I didn’t know any better, I would think that you guys view me as a suspect.”
“Should we be looking at you as a suspect?” Phillips asked.
“Absolutely not.”
“Okay, we have just one more question for you, Officer Jordan. Did you, at any time before any of the other officers got there, leave that house?”
“Leave that house? Of course not! I stayed there with my captain until other officers arrived on the scene.”
“You didn’t go outside at all?” Frank asked, hoping that Timothy Jordan would give himself an out.
“No, Detective Stone. Not at all.”
The four detectives all looked one another. A foul expression was on Phillips’s face as he shook his head in disgust.
“What?” Timothy Jordan asked.
“Well, the way we figure it, there was no damage done to the front door, so either Donald knew his killer and let him in, or the killer crawled in through a window, waited for Donald to come home, and murdered him when he got there.”
With an exasperated look on his face, Timothy Jordan snorted out a laugh. His hands flew to his hips as he stood there in shock.
“You guys have got to be kidding me! What possible reason do I have to kill Donald Snyder?”
“Well, from what we understand, you did have a nasty exchange with him at Red’s restaurant.”
“Oh my God! I was coming to my captain’s defense!”
“Coming to her defense? Against her husband?”
“Look, man. I didn’t know that was her husband at the time. That’s why I went by her house, to apologize to both of them.”
“And you say you never left the house after the other officers came, correct?”
“No, no, no! how many times do I have to tell y’all that?”
Hughes looked at Phillips and smiled. He then looked at Frank, who had now closed his eyes and was rubbing his face. Amber took a deep breath as she crossed her arms and leaned back on one leg. Hughes then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the bag with Timothy’s wallet inside.
“Well, if that’s true, Officer Jordan, then why did we find your wallet outside next to the window?”
Timothy Jordan’s face went slack. His mouth fell completely open.
“Where the hell did you find that?”
“We just told you where we found it, Officer Jordan. Now, do you have any idea how it got there?”
“How in the hell should I know?”
“Maybe we should talk about this down at the station,” Hughes said.
Timothy opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Suddenly his throat felt very dry. He looked around at the accusatory faces, and a scowl appeared on his.
“Well, Officer Jordan? Are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?”
“The easy way would be for my fellow law enforcement officers to take me at my word when I tell them that I had nothing to do with Donald Snyder’s murder.”
“Come on, son. You know we can’t do that,” Frank said.
A long pause went by before anyone spoke again.
“You know what? Fine! But when we get to the station, I want to call my union rep and my fuckin’ lawyer!”
Timothy turned and headed to his bedroom.
“Where do you think you’re going Officer?” Phillips asked him.
Timothy stopped in his tracks. He slowly turned back to face Phillips. With a scowl still plastered on his face, he slowly walked up to Phillips and stared him in the eye.
“I’m going to put on some damn clothes, if that’s okay! Or would you rather have me sitting in the precinct with my dick hanging out?”
After getting dressed, Timothy Jordan was escorted out to the car and ushered into it. Twenty minutes later, he was sitting in an interrogation room waiting to speak to a lawyer.
51
Timothy Jordan sat stone-faced as Detectives Hughes and Phillips stared at him from across the table. His right fist was firmly placed inside his left palm, with his elbows resting on the table. His chin rested between the knuckles of his middle and forefinger. From the moment he sat down, his eyes had been closed. If the detectives didn’t know any better, they would swear that he was asleep.
“Officer, why don’t you just tell us what really happened?” Phillips said. In his mind, this was an open-and-shut case. Timothy Jordan slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Phillips.
“I’ve told you what really happened, so stop asking me stupid ass questions.”
“Look, we understand. You got into it with Donald at a restaurant, went to his house to apologize, and things got out of hand. It happens.”
“We can’t help you if you don’t tell us the truth, Jordan,” Hughes chimed in.
Jordan’s eyes narrowed into slits. He slowly raised his head up and suddenly slammed his fists down on the table hard enough to send an echo throughout the room.
“I’m telling you the damn truth!”
“Quite a temper you have there, Officer,” Phillips said, smirking at Jordan.
Timothy Jordan stared at him for a few seconds before shaking his head and placing his chin back in its original position. Phillips opened his mouth to say something else, but never got the chance. Before the words could leave his mouth, the door swung open and in walked a pencil thin African American woman dressed in grey, pinstriped, business attire. The top of her hair was wrapped up in a bun and her face was caked with make-up. Her lips were laced with black lip stick. She was a very pretty lady. Her skin was the color of dark honey. Her heels click-clacked across the floor as she made her way over to the table. The sound of her briefcase slamming onto the top of the table seemed to startle everyone in the room. Her eyes darted from Hughes to Phillips then back to Hughes. She then looked down at Timothy Jordan, gave him a warm smile, and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“Detectives, now I know that you haven’t been questioning this officer without his lawyer present,” she said, the smile never leaving her face.
“And just who the hell are you supposed to be, Wonder Woman?” Phillips asked.
“Believe it or not Detective, I have been called that before. Now, if you want to know my real name, it’s Beverly Hubbard. And since you like asking questions, maybe you can answer one for me. Why in God’s name do you have my client in this sweat-box?”
“Your client is being accused of murdering his boss’s husband. His wallet was found outside of a window of the house where said murder occurred.”
Miss Hubbard stared at Phillips for a few seconds before turning her attention to Hughes. The two detectives looked at each other and then back at her.
“What?” Phillips asked.
“I’m still waiting on the punchline.”
“What punchline?”
“The punchline to this joke. What you said, Detective, is in no way proof that my client committed any crime whatsoever.”
“What about his wallet?” Hughes asked.
“What about it? That’s not proof, and you know it.”
“Your client was seen having a very loud argument with the victim an hour before the murder was committed.”
“Argument? From the files I’ve read, my client was merely protecting his boss. He had no idea that the man was his boss’s husband.”
“Look, Counselor––––”
“No, Detective, you look,” Beverly said, cutting Hughes off, “unless you are prepared to arrest my client on a murder charge right now, he’s about to get up, walk through that door, and go home.”
Beverly crossed her arms and waited for Phillips’s response. When it was clear that he wasn’t going to offer one, she shrugged her shoulders, looked at Timothy Jordan, and said, “Let’s go Mr. Jordan.”
Timothy smirked as he arose from the chair and followed his lawyer from the room. As the two of them walked through the door, Timothy locked eyes with Marie Snyder. Although she wasn’t allowed to be involved in the investigation, the deputy chief did extend her the courtesy of being present when Officer Jordan was questioned. Her stare burned a hole through her.
“Captain Snyder, I swear to God that I did not kill your husband,” he said.
Marie Snyder didn’t say a word. She just continued to stare at him. Timothy Jordan then looked at his partner, Carla Johnson. His eyes were pleading for her to believe him.
“Come on, Carla. You know me. You know I couldn’t do anything like this.”
“I don’t know what to believe, Tim.” Carla then turned and walked out of the precinct. It was her off day, and the only reason she was even there in the first place was that Timothy Jordan was her partner, and Clark wanted to see if she could add something to the investigation. Standing there taking it all in was Frank Stone. He had a perplexed look on his face. Something about this entire incident just didn’t sit well with him. It all seemed a little too convenient to him. Frank decided right then and there that, before Marie was allowed to go back to her home, he would swing by there and check things out for himself.
52
From the time she’d left the airport until the Uber driver helped her retrieve her bags from the truck of his car, Catherine Samuels face was fixed in sadness. Although she’d had a fantastic time with her girlfriends on their two-week vacation to Hawaii, reality was beginning to set in that the trip was coming to an end. Catherine had saved up for an entire year to achieve her bucket list goal of going to Hawaii. Since she was single, unlike her two girlfriends, Catherine had no one to answer to. Because of this, she was more than willing to stay an extra week, but her friends had to get back to their husbands. Catherine thought long and hard about staying in Hawaii anyway but decided that she wouldn’t have as much fun without her friends. She had one more week of vacation left, so she decided that she would just hit the gym every day and try to work off the ten pounds she gained lying around on the beach, eating sweets and drinking Mai Tais.
“Well, back to the real world,” she said as the Uber driver carried her bags up the driveway. He stood there for a long moment waiting for Catherine to open the door. Instead of doing that, she reached into her purse, pulled out a ten-dollar bill, and handed it to him.
“You don’t want me to take the bags in for you? I don’t mind,” he said.
“No thanks. I’ve got it from here.”
The man shrugged, stuffed the money into his front pocket, and headed for his vehicle. Although he did think that Catherine was attractive, he was slightly offended that she seemed afraid to open her door while he was standing there. He gave her a mean look as he got into his car and drove away. Catherine couldn’t care less. This was Cleveland, Ohio, and she wasn’t about to take any chances. A victim she would not be on this day.
After entering her home and turning off the alarm, Catherine did a quick walk through to make sure that everything was just as she’d left it. When she discovered that it was, she went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. The turbulence she experienced on the flight home was so bad that she needed something to take the edge off and calm her nerves. When she finished, Catherine went into her living room and turned on the television. She then went to the camera app on her phone and connected it to her television via Bluetooth.
Even though it was evident that no one had been inside of her house, just before she’d left for vacation, Catherine had to chase a vagabond away from her home. The homeless man was sniffing around her garbage can for scraps of food, but Catherine felt that he was setting her up for a chance to break into her house. She wanted to make sure that he hadn’t returned. Figuring that she wasn’t going to see anything of substance, Catherine scrolled back just a few days. Although Catherine didn’t see the bum, she did see something very interesting after watching the video for about half an hour.
The way her camera was set up, Catherine could clearly see a few of the homes that sat across the street. One of the houses she could see was that of a policewoman who lived directly across from her. Standing in front of the policewoman’s house were two men holding a conversation. Catherine had seen enough episodes of Law & Order to know that the two men were detectives. She turned the volume up attempting to hear what they were saying, but they weren’t talking loud enough. She watched them get back into their vehicle and drive away. Not ten seconds later, she witnessed someone dressed in a black hoodie sneak around the side of the policewoman’s house. The figure looked around for a few seconds before placing what looked like a wallet on the ground.
“What the hell?” Catherine mumbled. After seeing this, she decided to scroll back further. Something was going on. She went back five more days and watched the same figure climb through her neighbor’s side window. A few minutes later, she saw Donald Snyder enter his home. A bad feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. Moments later, a lump formed in Catherine’s throat as she saw the hooded figure climb out of the window and haul ass down the street. Her only regret was that she didn’t get a clear look at the hooded figure’s face.
Upon hearing a car
door slam, Catherine jumped up and ran to the window. When she noticed the handsome man in a suit about to get in his vehicle, she quickly ran onto her porch and began yelling.
53
Frank Stone’s mind continued to swirl as he walked out of the precinct and headed toward his car. He’d been a detective for a long time, and he couldn’t ever remember a feeling in his gut like the one he was having now. When Phillips and Hughes first informed them that they’d found Timothy’s wallet next to Maria Snyder’s window, he had his doubts about the man’s innocence. Now however, after taking one look deep into Timothy’s eyes, he was beginning to have doubts about his guilt. As he got in his car, he heard Amber calling his name.
“You just gonna leave without saying anything to anybody?” she asked.
“I need to run home right quick. I forgot my badge,” Frank told her. It was a weak lie and both of them knew it. Amber didn’t know what bothered her more, the fact that her partner was lying to her or the fact that she didn’t know why he was lying to her. She wanted to call him on it, but before she could, Frank started his car and pulled off.
“I’ll be back in a few,” he yelled out the window. Amber watched his taillights disappear down the street and wondered what secret Frank was keeping from her. Frank stared in his rearview mirror until Amber was a mere speck. He hated not letting her know what was going on, but this was something that he needed to do by himself. Had Amber been acting objectively, he wouldn’t have minded taking her along. But from Frank’s observations, she, like Detective Phillips, seemed to have already made up her mind about his guilt. Frank, however, wasn’t so sure.
As he pulled up in front of Marie’s house, his intensity and focus increased. Although he knew that Hughes and Phillips were capable detectives, he couldn’t help but wonder if they had missed something. Frank got out of his car, walked up to the front of the house, and stopped. His eyes swept the home from side to side as he stood on the sidewalk. Finally, after staring at the house for a few minutes, he casually strolled toward the front steps. They creaked slightly as his thick frame pressed down against them.
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