“Because if he did, he would have never told us about it,” Hughes said, smirking.
Frank smirked back at him. They were on the same page. Frank looked at Amber and nodded. Amber reached down and picked up the bag containing the picture frame. She set it on the table and slid it across to Hughes.
“What the hell is that?” Phillips asked.
“It’s a picture frame fitted with a video camera lens. It’s probably connected to a cell phone,” Hughes answered before either Frank or Amber could. “If I had to guess, I would say that it was connected to Donald’s cell phone.”
Frank smiled. He and Hughes were definitely on the same page.
“Wait. Do we even have access to Donald’s cell phone?” Amber asked.
“Of course we do,” Phillips said, now smiling as well. “We took it as evidence, but we haven’t had a tech go through it yet.”
“You guys do know what this means right?” Hughes said. “With this evidence, we can nail Timothy Jordan’s ass to the wall.”
Frank and Amber glanced at each other. They didn’t know how Phillips would take the news that Timothy. Jordan was innocent. From the way he reacted at the police station, they both had to wonder if he would be disappointed if he was wrong.
“Why in the hell are you two looking at each other like that?” Hughes asked when he noticed the peculiar looks between the two detectives.
“Well, that brings me to the second piece of evidence that we’ve uncovered.” Frank took his cell phone out of his pocket and pulled up the video. He then slid his phone to Hughes. He watched as Phillips leaned over and looked at the screen. Both of their faces went slack at what they saw. After viewing the video, they both looked up at Frank.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Phillips said. “The asshole really is innocent, huh?”
“It would appear so,” Hughes chimed in.
“Yep, looks like we owe that young man an apology,” Frank said.
“Well, that can wait. Right now, we need to get this frame to Joe and see if he can pull whatever footage is on it from Donald’s phone.”
“I still don’t know how I feel about you guys going behind our backs though, Frank. We’re supposed to be a team,” Phillips said.
“We are a team, Milton. That’s why we’re letting you guys take the credit for this.”
Hughes and Phillips looked at each other curiously.
“Really?” Phillips asked, surprised. Had the situation been reversed, he would have never reciprocated the generosity that Frank and Amber were affording them.
“Yes, really,” Frank said.
“Well, we definitely appreciate that. You know if the situation were reversed, we would do the same thing right?” Phillips said.
Frank and Amber cut their eyes at each other. It was a crock of shit and they both knew it. Hughes may have done the honorable thing, but there was no way Phillips would have. Although he was a detective, he hadn’t fully learned yet that being in law enforcement meant that you sometimes had to step aside and let someone else have their moment in the sun.
“Sure, you would have,” Amber said smirking.
“So, do you think we should tell Captain Snyder what’s going on?” Hughes asked. It was a general question among the four detectives but there was little doubt that he was speaking to Frank.
“Come on Mike. You know we can’t do that. The last thing we want to do is contaminate the case by involving someone so close to the crime.”
“Yeah, I know. I had to ask, though. Now Cap will be mad at someone else besides me when she finds out that we kept information about who killed her husband from her.”
“Oh, so you set me up with that question, huh?”
“Something like that,” Hughes said, laughing.
“It figures. Look, we’d better get to the precinct and turn this stuff in to Joe. The sooner we do that, the sooner we find out who the murderer is,” Frank said.
56
Deputy Chief Clark stared intently at the monitor. A disgusted look rested on his face. He, along with Detectives Stone, Davis, Hughes, and Phillips, was shocked and utterly flabbergasted at what they were seeing. It had taken Joseph Millano less than ten minutes to hack into Donald Snyder’s phone and pull the video from the picture frame. He was good at what he did. He’d been a technical support worker for the police force for ten years, and he took great pride in his work.
“Is that who I think it is?” he asked.
“Yes, it is,” Amber said. Her voice dripped with disgust. Although the figure crawling into Marie’s window wasn’t clear enough to be recognized, that all changed once Donald struggled for his life. Once the hood came off of the intruder’s head, the identity was crystal clear. Every person in the room was wondering the same thing. What in the hell was the motive? Frank shook his head slowly as he dropped down in a chair. He looked at Amber and both of them shared the same exacerbated look.
“Do we know if there’s any history between these two?” Clark asked.
“Not that we are aware of,” Amber said.
“Well, get aware of it! It goes without saying that we will arrest this piece of garbage anyway, but there has to be a reason this man was murdered in cold blood! Hughes, Phillip! Get out of here and go pick up Mr. Snyder’s killer. Stone, Davis! Out of respect for Marie, I think you two should pay her a visit and explain the situation to her.” Without saying another word, Clark stormed out of the room. He was so angry that he slammed the door on his way out.
“Wow. I have to admit that I’m at a loss for words right now,” Joe said. “I’ve been doing this job for ten years now, and I’ve never come across anything like this happening before.” When Joe noticed that no one was responding to him, he turned around. He looked at the hardened faces of Frank Stone and Amber Davis and noticed how focused they were on the monitor.
“Rewind it,” Frank ordered.
“Excuse me?” he asked.
“You heard the detective. Rewind the footage,” Amber co-signed.
“No problem.”
The two detectives sat there in disbelief. Although they were seeing it again, it was still hard for them to wrap their minds around it. Simultaneously, Frank and Amber got up and moved closer to the screen. It was as if they thought being closer to the monitor would somehow change the killer’s identity. Looking at it a second time, however, only made their stomachs churn more. Frank shook his head, got up, and headed for the door. Amber was right on his heels. Twenty minutes later, they were pulling into the hotel’s parking lot.
“How do you think she’s going to take the news?” Amber asked.
“How would you take it?”
“Good point.”
The two detectives got out of the car and made their way into the hotel. Not another word was spoken until they reached the hotel room door. Frank raised his fist to knock on the door, but before he could it opened.
“Hello Detectives. Come on in,” Marie Snyder said, leading them inside. “I just got off the phone with Deputy Chief Clark. He gave me a heads-up that you two would be coming by to see me. He also told me that there was some news regarding my husband’s murder.”
“Cap, before we tell you this–––”
“Save it, Stone. I’m a big girl. Whatever you’re about to tell me, I promise you that I can handle it,” she said.
Frank looked at Amber, who just shrugged her shoulders. He sat on the couch and took a deep breath. He looked at his captain and quickly realized that she was tougher than even he thought. What he was about to tell her wouldn’t break her, but it would surely piss her off. By the time he finished giving her the run down, she was twice as pissed off as she was before.
“What? Are you freaking kidding me?” Marie yelled. “You mean to tell me that my husband had been recording my living room?”
“Yes ma’am. The evidence of the crime was right up under our noses,” Amber said.
Marie rubbed her head.
“I can’t believe this,” she
mumbled.
Frank walked over and put his hand on Marie’s shoulder.
“It’s okay Cap. At least we know who murdered your husband, and we can prove it now. That asshole is going down!”
Seemingly in a daze, all Marie could do was stare at the floor.
57
It took Hughes and Phillips ten minutes to arrive at their destination. Silence dominated the car, as each detective was immersed in his own thoughts. With a frown on his face, Phillips stared out the window. Even though he wouldn’t admit it to Hughes, he was highly pissed off that he’d been wrong about Timothy Jordan. He didn’t have to, however. Hughes knew his younger partner like the back of his hand.
“You good over there, partner?” Hughes asked.
“Yeah, I’m all right. I just can’t believe we were wrong about Timothy Jordan being guilty. I would have bet my last dollar that he was the murderer.”
Hughes cut his eyes at his partner.
“You know better than to jump to conclusions in this job. You’ve been a detective too long to do that. I still can’t believe this, though. We’re about to go in here and arrest Donald’s killer and we have no idea what the motive is. Most of the time, we have a hunch about the killer did what they did, but this time, I don’t have a clue.”
“Neither do I, so let’s go in here and cuff this piece of scum.”
The two detectives got out of the car and entered the lobby of the apartment. The apartment was a two-story building located in Cleveland Heights, Ohio. It was a quiet neighborhood that housed mostly professional workers. This particular building was full of tenants who worked as teachers, barbers, and beauticians among other professionals. Hughes pulled out a piece of paper and looked at it.
“4C,” he said to his partner. “Let’s go.”
Hughes and Phillips headed for the elevator and patiently waited for it to arrive. The longer they stood there, the more the gravity of the situation started to sink in.
“This feels weird. I’ve seen a lot on this job, but I have to admit this is a first for me,” Phillips said.
Hughes slowly nodded. He’d been on the job longer than Phillips and had only encountered such an occurrence once. He wasn’t involved in that case, so it didn’t dig at him the way this one did. This one involved someone he cared about getting hurt. That made it personal. The elevator door opened, allowing the detectives to step inside. As the elevator ascended toward its destination, the two detectives got angrier and angrier. By the time they got off the elevator and made their way to 4C, they were downright livid. The husband of one of their own had been murdered and someone had to pay. The unusual circumstances however, made this situation different. Because they were there to arrest a killer, the detectives weren’t about to take any chances. They both pulled their weapons and hid them behind their backs just in case they needed them. Hughes knocked on the door and waited. Ten seconds later, the door opened.
“Detectives? What’s going on? Has there been a break in the case?” the person who answered the door asked.
“You could say that. We’re going to need you to come with us?”
“Is this about Officer Jordan?”
“Actually, no. It’s about you,” Phillips said as he aimed his gun.
“Carla Johnson, you are under arrest for the murder of Donald Snyder.”
58
Judge Joanna Tripp peered over her wire-framed glasses and cast an evil glare in Carla Johnson’s direction. In her twenty-eight years on the bench, Judge Tripp had presided over nearly every type of case imaginable, but she could honestly say that this was a new one for her. After staring at Carla for what seemed like forever, Judge Tripp cast a cool glance at Beverly Hubbard. The lawyer had a stoic look on her face as she stood beside Carla, who, after being locked up for the last seventy-two hours, looked disheveled and raggedy. In all honesty, Beverly didn’t want to take the case, but her superiors insisted that she did. Beverly had a reputation of taking cases that were slam dunks. She didn’t like the challenge or the hard work that came along with trying to prove a client was innocent when they appeared to be guilty as sin. She would rather just take the cases she knew she could win, win them, and collect her paycheck. In this instance however, she had to play the hand that was dealt to her.
“Counselor, how does your client plead?” Judge Tripp asked.
“Not guilty, Your Honor. The defendant is a police officer and poses no flight risk. We request that she be released on her own recognizance.”
Judge Tripp then looked at the assistant district attorney, Derek Weaver. Weaver was a short, heavyset, African American man with a baldhead and zero facial hair. Many lawyers often took one look at him and underestimated his ability to get a conviction. The ones who had done their homework, however, knew better. Weaver was a shrewd man who had a ninety-seven percent conviction rate, which meant one thing. When he took the case, more than likely, the person on trial was going to jail.
“Mr. Weaver?” the judge said.
“Your Honor, we request remand for the defendant. She killed her boss’s husband in his own home and then planted evidence to frame one of her co-workers.”
“Allegedly,” Beverly Hubbard countered.
“Allegedly, my foot. The Euclid Police Department has video of the actual murder and someone planting evidence.”
Carla’s heart nearly stopped. This was the first time she’d heard about any evidence the police may have had. She cut her eyes at Beverly, who simply ignored her.
“I haven’t seen any video, Your Honor. For all I know, this so-called video could have been doctored by someone,” Beverly said.
“Give me a break, Counselor. That’s weak, and you know it,” Weaver contended.
“Okay, you two, that’s enough. Bail will be set at two hundred-fifty thousand dollars, cash or bond.”
“But, Your Honor–––”
“Save it for the trial, Mr. Weaver. Next!” the judge yelled.
59
Two hours after her bail was set, Carla walked out of her cell a free woman. At least, for the time being. As soon as she left her cell, she made a beeline for her locker. Since no shift changes were coming up, she could do what she needed to do without being interrupted.
Carla quickly opened her locker and pulled out the small tape recorder she kept in there. After making a sweep through the locker room to make sure that she was alone, Carla sat down in front of her locker, hit record, and left her partner a message. She had a slim hope of returning to work, but if not, she knew her partner needed this information. She then grabbed a piece of paper and an ink pen and wrote a short note.
It began,
Listen in private . . .
When she was finished, she got up and exited the precinct. Since she wasn’t allowed to bring her cell phone with her, she couldn’t even call for an Uber to take her home. She had just gotten to the bus stop when a car pulled up beside her. As soon as it came to a stop, the passenger’s side window rolled down.
“Get in the car,” Timothy Jordan said.
Carla looked from her right to her left before finally getting in. The flow of traffic was light as Jordan pulled into it.
“So, tell me Carla, how does it feel to be accused of something that you didn’t do?” he asked.
Carla’s head snapped around.
“You believe I’m innocent?”
“Of course I believe you’re innocent. You’re my partner. I think I would know if my own partner was a killer. I believe in you just like you believed in me when I was accused,” he said, condescendingly.
“I never said that I thought you were guilty,” she responded.
“No, you just stood there and let everyone stare at me like I was a damn criminal.”
“Timothy, I–––”
“You know what? Don’t even worry about it. I just came down here to give you a ride home after finding out that you’d made bail. Who bailed you out?” he asked.
“I have no idea,” Carla lied. S
he knew exactly who had put up her bail money.
“Well, I heard that they had you on tape. I haven’t seen it, but I know that couldn’t be you, right?”
“Of course not, partner. And thanks for giving me a ride home. I appreciate it. But look, if this all goes wrong, I need you to clean out my locker for me, okay?”
Timothy gave her a sidewards glance.
“Why would it go wrong?” he asked, suspiciously.
“I didn’t say it would. I’m just saying in case it does. Please Tim. This is important to me, partner.”
“No problem.” The two officers said their goodbyes as Carla got out of the car and made her way inside her building. A million thoughts ran through her head as she got on the elevator. The three days she was in jail before she was bailed out left a stench on her that she couldn’t wait to wash off.
When she got to her door, Carla noticed an envelope sticking under it. She bent down, picked it up, and looked at both sides of it. There was no writing on either side. She did a quick look around before opening her door and going in. Luckily for her, her keys were still in her pocket when she was arrested, or she would have had to contact the building’s superintendent to get into her own apartment. When she got inside, she opened the envelope. Inside of it was a note.
Don’t worry about it. Everything will be OK, it read.
After reading it, Carla balled the note up and threw it in the trash. She couldn’t get to her shower fast enough. She jumped in and scrubbed her skin for thirty minutes. Feeling better, she got out of the shower and threw on her robe. She then went to her kitchen, took a bottle of wine out of her cabinet, and corkscrewed it open. She then poured herself a glass and wondered how in the hell everything was going to be okay.
Carla took a deep breath and tossed down a large gulp of her wine. Her greed now had her in an unenviable spot. After finishing off her glass of wine, Carla went into her bedroom and retrieved her cell phone. Now that there was a video of her committing murder, there was no reason for the other end of the bargain to be held up. She was on her own. It took Carla forty minutes to polish off the entire bottle of Lambrusco. After she was finished, she came to a decision. Carla had no idea if or when she would enjoy the flesh or another man again, so she decided to call Timothy. Her decision was based on lust but rooted in the guilt of trying to frame him. She picked up her cell phone and began dialing.
Black Viper Page 25