Lawful Deception

by Pamela Samuels Young

  “So you don’t have an alibi?”

  “Alibi? I don’t need an alibi. I didn’t do nothin’. Man, I’m fifty-three years old and I got a nice, mellow gig. I told you, I’m straight up. You got it wrong.”

  “So your boss didn’t pay you to knock off his ex-girlfriend?” Thomas asked, intentionally messing with him.

  “What? Mr. McClain. Hell no. Y’all got it wrong. Way wrong.”

  Mankowski took a step closer to the car. “We’re going to need you to give some thought to where you were when Bliss Fenton was killed.”

  Lester was breathing heavy and Mankowski thought he might go into cardiac arrest.

  “Uh...what night was it again?”

  “Last Tuesday night.”

  “Tuesday nights is when Mr. McClain has his listening parties. He lets me sit in.” He stopped to think, then his eyes lit up. “Last Tuesday I was with Mr. McClain. Listening to that new girl LaReena. Mr. McClain and a bunch of other people was there too. Just ask him.”

  “McClain told us he was there, but he didn’t mention anything about you?” Mankowski lied. “They never got the list from McClain because he stormed out of the interrogation room before providing it.

  “I was there. I swear I was there.”

  “The whole time? You didn’t even leave to go to the men’s room?”

  Lester looked like he wanted to lie, but smartly weighed the risk that a lie might cost him.

  “I’m sure I went to take a leak at some point. But when it was over, I took Mr. McClain home and went to my old lady’s house. You can ask everybody at that listening party. You can even call my old lady.”

  “We think maybe Mr. McClain paid you to kill Bliss Fenton,” Mankowski prodded.

  “Man, I ain’t no killer! Check my rap sheet, man, I don’t kill.”

  “Oh,” Mankowski said. “You just assault people. A kinder, gentler criminal.”

  “That’s it. I ain’t talking no more.” He went back to polishing the car.

  The two detectives looked at each other. Lester was too jittery to be a hired killer. If he’d done it, he would’ve already told on himself.

  Thomas’ phone buzzed and he pulled it from his shirt pocket.

  “Yes!”

  “What now?” Mankowski asked.

  Thomas had already taken off for their car. “The intern got a hit on one of the license plates.”

  “Which one?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  “I bet you it was Dr. Franco,” Thomas declared with an I-told-you-so sense of glee. “The guy lived miles away in Orange County. If he was passing through that intersection around the time of Bliss’ death, he’s our man.”

  CHAPTER 80

  “C’mon, dude. Can’t you help a sista out?” Special had tried everything else and was now resorting to her homegirl act.

  “Ma’am, I called our corporate offices and they said we can’t release the video without a subpoena. I wish I could, but I can’t.”

  The rent-a-cop who managed the shopping complex, porky Latino with a thin patchy facial hair, looked genuinely sorry.

  “That video could be the key to a murder investigation,” Special pleaded.

  “Then have the cops subpoena it,” he reasoned.

  Special didn’t want to do that because she wanted to be the one to solve Bliss Fenton’s murder and she was certain that Mystery Daddy could be the key. The stupid cops were running around focusing on the obvious suspects. They probably weren’t even trying to find Bliss’ other baby daddy because they weren’t as smart as she was. Special planned to deliver him up on a silver platter. But this fake cop was standing in the way of her glory.

  “Okay, how much?” Special asked.

  “How much what?”

  “How much will it cost me to get a copy of the video?”

  “I can’t do that. I’ll get fired.”

  Special eyed his badge. “C’mon, Carlos, can’t you just show it to me?” She opened her wallet. She only had forty-four bucks. Not a lot of money to bribe somebody with. She flashed the bills in his face. “This is all I have.”

  Carlos did not look impressed.

  “I’ll pay you two hundred dollars if you show me the video. Not copy it. Just show it to me. They only told you not to give me a copy. They didn’t say anything about showing it to me. I’ll go to the ATM right now and get your money.”

  Special could see he was softening. He peered over his shoulder.

  “You have to come back after six o’clock, when the other guard gets off,” he whispered. “You can meet me in the security office. But if you see anybody else around, I’m gonna act like I don’t know you. Come in through the alley.” He wrote down his cell number. “Call me when you get here and I’ll open the door.”

  “Thanks, Carlos. I owe you big time.”

  “Just make sure you have my money. I could get fired for doing this.”

  Since she had a few hours to kill until she could see the video, Special decided to pay Jessica Winthrop a visit. She figured Jessica might know Mystery Baby Daddy’s identity since she was Bliss’ best friend. Jessica had probably met some of the men Bliss dated over the years.

  The one and only time Special had visited the posh city of Bel Air was when she’d attended a luncheon at the Bel Air Hotel a few years ago. A haven for the rich and famous, Bel Air’s residents included Kim Kardashian and Kanye West, Nicolas Cage and Madonna.

  “I’m definitely doing something wrong,” Special mused as she drove through the exclusive neighborhood where the median home price was over two million dollars. “I need to snag me a dude who can have me living high on the hog like this.”

  Jessica’s house was a modern architectural mix of glass and stone surrounded by a ton of foliage, obviously to keep out the looky-loos. After a hike up a long driveway, Special rang the doorbell and waited.

  When a woman who matched the picture of Jessica Winthrop that Special had found on the internet opened the door, Special immediately commenced her spiel.

  Once she’d explained who she was and what she wanted, Jessica’s expression went from nonchalant to defensive.

  “Tell me again who you’re investigating Bliss’ murder for? You just said you’re not a cop?”

  “I’m working on behalf of Fletcher McClain,” she said, which wasn’t a total lie since he used to be a client. “I’ve been hired to find out the father of Bliss’ middle child, Jonas.”

  Almost on cue, a little boy ran up and clutched Jessica around the thigh. He had bright blonde hair and ultra fair skin.

  Special stared down at the child. “Is that him?”

  Jessica protectively hid the boy behind her without affirming or denying whether he was indeed Jonas.

  “So Fletcher’s trying to pin Bliss’ murder on Jonas’ father to get himself off the hook?”

  “We just think he’s someone the police should talk to. I was hoping you’d be able to tell me a little bit about him. You were Bliss’ best friend after all.”

  “Bliss never told me or anybody else who he is.”

  This woman wasn’t about to help her. Special just wished she could get inside and talk to her in a less confrontational state.

  “If Fletcher killed Bliss,” Jessica said, “I hope he gets the death penalty.”

  Before Special could say another word, Jessica slammed the door in her face.

  Special blew out a frustrated breath. “Now that certainly went well.”

  But she wasn’t fazed. In fact, Special was bubbling with excitement. Before the night was up, she’d not only have video of the man who fathered little Jonas, but possibly Bliss Fenton’s killer.

  CHAPTER 81

  Detective Mankowski listened to the voicemail for the second time, still unable to believe it. This chick had big balls. But he’d
learned his lesson. He wouldn’t touch her with a fifty-foot telephone pole.

  “Hi, Detective, this is me, Girlie Cortez. Give me a call when you have a chance. You and I have something important to discuss.”

  There was no way he would let himself get pulled into her sticky web again. What in the hell did she have to discuss with him anyway? She probably wanted to invite him over so she could spread her legs again. But Mankowski wasn’t the kind of guy to get taken by the same woman twice.

  “You look irritated,” Thomas said. “Who was that?”

  “Nobody important. So what’s the status of those warrants?”

  “We’re getting pushback from the D.A.’s office. But I got the lieutenant working on it.”

  “That’s crap. We’ve got more than probable cause.”

  They were finally ready to make an arrest in the murder of Bliss Fenton. One of their three prime suspects had indeed driven through the intersection leading into Bliss’ neighborhood around the time frame of her murder.

  “We have enough for the search warrant,” Thomas said. “But the deputy D.A. thinks the evidence is a little slim for an arrest warrant. So we better hope something turns up during the search to make an arrest.”

  A sly grin slid across Mankowski’s face. Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure we’ll be making an arrest tonight even without an arrest warrant. We’ll just have to push enough buttons to make it happen. When can we pick up the search warrant?”

  “With any luck, within the hour.”

  Thomas’ desk phone rang. He picked it up and gave Mankowski a strange look.

  “It’s for you. Line two.”

  “Who is it?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Mankowski punched a button on his phone and snatched the receiver. “Mankowski here.”

  “Hey, detective,” Girlie purred. “You wouldn’t be avoiding me, would you?”

  Mankowski ignored his partner’s disapproving glare.

  “What do you want?” He forced his voice to sound gruff.

  “That’s no way to talk to someone who used to be as close to you as I was.”

  “What do you want?” he repeated.

  “Okay, fine,” Girlie grumbled. “I was calling to share a little information with you. Something that might be pertinent to your investigation.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Remember, I told you I thought Mia Richardson was your killer?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, she met with me today regarding a legal matter.”

  What trouble was Girlie Cortez trying to get him into now? he thought.

  “Isn’t it an ethical violation for you to be talking to me about attorney-client stuff?”

  “Mia didn’t retain me, but our conversation only confirmed for me that she definitely wanted Bliss out of the way.”

  Girlie recounted her meeting with Mia. By the time she was done, Mankowski needed a blood pressure check. He hit the speakerphone button and waved Thomas closer to the phone.

  “What’s up?” Thomas perched himself on the edge of his partner’s desk.

  “Girlie, I need you to repeat everything you just told me so my partner can hear it,” Mankowski said. “And don’t skip a word.”

  CHAPTER 82

  It’s been months since Jefferson and I have had a real date night. Even longer since we’d ventured out on a weeknight. We’d just danced four straight songs without a break.

  “You still got it, girl,” Jefferson teases as we slide back into our booth.

  We love the food at Kobe’s Steakhouse in Seal Beach as much as we love the Derek Bordeaux Band and its old school jams.

  “You didn’t do too bad yourself for an old man.”

  I reach for a piece of shrimp tempura and dunk it into a bowl of ginger soy sauce.

  “I’m surprised they haven’t arrested your boy yet,” Jefferson says.

  “I do not want to talk about Fletcher McClain tonight,” I say in a stern voice.

  Jefferson acts as if he’s hard of hearing. “You know he killed that girl, right?”

  “He’s got an airtight alibi.”

  “Yeah, I bet. I’m just glad you dumped his ass. I don’t know if I could handle you being tied up in another big murder case.”

  “Me neither. I turned down this one, but there’s going to be another case.”

  “I know and when it happens, I’ll handle it. But you go into a zone when you’re in trial. It’s like I don’t even have a wife.”

  I stopped chewing. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

  “I didn’t know either. It’s cool being out with you tonight.” He leans across the table and kisses me on the lips.

  When you’re married, it’s easy to fall into a routine, often forgetting to give your partner the attention he needs. The spark goes and comes, but it’s definitely back tonight for us.

  “Wanna have sex in the backseat of the car?” Jefferson asks.

  I laugh. “No. But I’m up for some skinny dipping action in the hot tub.”

  Jefferson’s hand shoots up. “Waiter, check, please! We gotta go home. Now!”

  I start cracking up. “We’re not going anywhere until I finish my food.”

  “I bet your boy Fletcher was shocked when you turned down his case.”

  “Yep. He’s used to getting whatever he wants and he was surprised that the money didn’t matter to me.”

  Jefferson raises his glass in a makeshift toast. “That’s my girl. I love a woman who calls her own shots.”

  I tell Jefferson about my confrontation with Mia and her comment about cop beatings and innocent people not going to jail.

  “She actually said that?”

  “Yep. But worse than that, I think she really believes it.”

  “She better be careful. She had a motive too. The cops just might arrest her ass for killing that girl.”

  That thought made me smile. “I suspect an arrest would change her mind about the criminal justice system real quick.”

  CHAPTER 83

  Mia gritted her teeth and tried her best to keep a smile on her face, but Fletcher’s mother was getting on her last nerve. It had only been three days, but there was no way she’d be able to last an entire month living under the same roof with Gilda McClain.

  Her future mother-in-law was sitting on the couch in the great room, cooing over Harmony. Fletcher’s mother was a bone-thin sixty-year-old who did yoga every day, wore too much makeup and spent too much of her son’s money.

  “Oh, you’re finally home. Are you cooking tonight, dear?”

  Those were the kind of subtle digs that drove Mia nuts. Gilda knew she had no plans to cook dinner. She’d just gotten home from work and it was almost eight o’clock for goodness’ sake.

  “I’m sorry, Gilda. This real estate merger I’m working on is keeping me crazy busy. And Fletcher’s hours are so unpredictable. We usually order out.”

  Gilda’s nose twitched. “My boy needs a home-cooked meal every once in a while. I’ll cook tomorrow.”

  You do that.

  Mia had finally downloaded Girlie’s summary judgment motion from the court file, but hadn’t found time to read the excerpts from Fletcher and Bliss’ depositions yet. It was almost as if a little voice in her head was gently urging her to forget about it. No matter what happened between Bliss and Fletcher in the past, it no longer mattered since Bliss couldn’t cause any more drama in their lives.

  Mia was about to barricade herself in the bedroom for the rest of the evening when she heard Fletcher coming through the door.

  “How are my three favorite girls?” he called out. He glided into the room carrying the most beautiful yellow roses she’d ever seen. Mia’s bad attitude instantly evaporated. It was about time Fletcher started paying attention to her
again.

  “Oh, Fletcher they’re—”

  “Mother, these are for you.” He set the vase on the coffee table, then bent down to kiss his mother on the cheek and the baby on the forehead. He plopped down on the couch next to them. “Let me hold her.”

  Mia felt like she was on a different planet as she watched the threesome, all connected by blood. Fletcher acted as if she wasn’t even in the room.

  Carina, a.k.a. Miss Sunshine, popped into the room. “Hey everybody.”

  She was wearing flip flops, jeans and a tank top with no bra. Mia was going to have to have a talk with the girl about proper attire.

  She eased Harmony from Fletcher’s arms into hers. “I think it’s time for a feeding.”

  Mia hated her annoying singsong voice. Somebody needed to teach that girl how to talk in a normal cadence.

  Carina left the room with Harmony, singing softly to her.

  “Hey, remember me.” Mia waved across the room at Fletcher.

  “I’m sorry, babe. I’m just so enthralled with Harmony. I never thought I’d feel this way about a kid. She’s so beautiful.”

  He walked over and gave her a hug fit for a mannequin. Fletcher had been a little distant after her confrontation with Vernetta outside the police station the other day. They argued on the way home and Mia had been quite stunned when Fletcher took Vernetta’s side.

  Mia saw the writing on the wall, but she’d never been one to let someone else craft her story. If she was going to get her relationship with Fletcher back on track, she needed to get all of these people out of their house so they could refocus on each other. And she knew she’d never be Fletcher’s number one focus as long as Bliss’ baby was in their lives. She prayed that Girlie Cortez was somehow able to help Jessica gain custody of Harmony.

  A loud banging on the door cut through the room.

  “What the—” Fletcher charged toward the front of the house.

  “L.A.P.D.! Open up!”

  Mia took off down the hall after him. Fletcher opened the door to an arsenal of cops. Five uniformed officers stood in front of them. Others were walking around to the back of the house.