True To The Game III

Crime Scene 101

Davis strolled into the motel room, followed by Ellington. Lieutenant Miles rose from his knee and gave them a cynical smile.

“Well, well, well, here we go again. A regular fucking family reunion we’re having. You two keep showing up at my crime scenes; I’m going to have you reassigned to homicide. So, what gives this time?”

Ellington and Davis exchanged glances.

“Don’t tell me, he was the other victim’s long-lost uncle, who also happened to be a coke dealer whom you were investigating.”

“He was our CI,” Davis told him.

“He was a confidential informant for Vice. Well, isn’t that just convenient. Could that be the reason that he’s no longer with us? I wonder. I mean, working for a couple of numb nuts like you two could definitely get somebody killed.”

“Lieutenant, may we take a look around?” Ellington asked.

“Don’t disturb anything; don’t touch anything. Forensics has just started their work.”

Ellington nodded. “Anybody check his pockets?”

Miles shook his head. “Forensics will handle it. He was DOA when the first officer arrived on the scene. Seems there was a disturbance call about the room. So a patrolman was already at the motel office when the shooting went down.”

“Do we have anyone in custody?” Ellington asked excitedly.

Miles shook his head. “The police officer ran out of the front office when he heard gunshots. He exchanged gunfire with the assailant before the assailant fled the scene. The police officer called for backup, then ran in here to the motel room, found the victim, tried CPR, and had someone call the paramedics. The police officer says that he couldn’t resuscitate the victim, so he immediately secured the room.”

“Which was rented to?” Davis asked.

“The victim.”

“What kinda commotion?” Ellington asked.

“A huge brawl. Thumping, crashing, banging, screaming, shouting.”

“Screaming? Like a woman screaming?”

Miles nodded. “You got it.”

“Any eyewitnesses?” Ellington asked.

“We’re running down leads right now, but besides the officer, none,” Miles told them. “And since you two are so interested in this case, why don’t you make yourselves useful and go and help interview some of the motel guests and see if anyone saw or heard anything?”

Ellington and Davis exchanged glances.

“And I want to know everything you find out,” Miles hollered.

Agents Covington, Harbinger, and Stokes strolled into the motel room.

“Well, well, well,” Miles shook his head and smiled. “Last time I checked, Philadelphia was not part of the District of Columbia, so murders here are within the jurisdiction of the state.”

“Right you are about that, Lieutenant.” Harbinger smiled.

“Then why in the hell do you keep showing up at my homicide scenes?” Miles asked angrily. “You know, they say that the perpetrator always returns to the scene of the crime.”

“Are you accusing me of something, Lieutenant?” Josh asked.

“If I was, you’d be in handcuffs,” Miles barked back.

“The day you try to slap handcuffs on me is the day you decide that you want to spend a long time in a maximum-security federal penitentiary,” Josh warned.

“Sir, we have something,” an officer informed the lieu-tenant.

“What is it?”

“We have a witness who saw a man and a woman fleeing around the back of the motel.”

“A man and a woman?” Miles asked.

“Any descriptions?” Ellington chimed in.

The officer shook his head. “No, too dark.”

“Any description of a vehicle?” Ellington asked.

Again, the officer shook his head.

“She has a man with her?” Ellington asked.

“We don’t even know if it’s her,” said Davis.

“It’s her. But who in the hell is with her?”

“I don’t know, but we’re running out of time.”

“Where would you go if you just left a murder scene?” Ellington asked. “Where would she go that was safe?”

“I don’t know, but if I was her, I know where I wouldn’t be going. I wouldn’t be going to Grandma’s, or to her friend Markita’s. Remember, she’s still got some asshole out searching for her.”

“If she’s smart, she’s on her way out of town. She’s got to be; there’s nowhere left for her to go. Especially knowing that a maniac is after her,” Ellington said. “She’s getting out of town tonight.”

“Who is this ‘she’?” Miles asked.

“It’s in the report,” Ellington told him. She and Davis raced out of the motel room and headed for their car. “She’s going for the money!”

“Yeah, but where?” Davis asked, climbing into the vehicle.

“Where in the hell would you keep that kinda cash?” Ellington asked. “And, remember, wherever it is, it’s got to be accessible to her tonight. That pretty much rules out all the banks.”

“So, where else do you store money?” Davis asked. He and Ellington stared at each other. The answer hit them both at the same time. “At a fucking storage unit!”

“Call Cleaver!” Ellington told him. “And the lieutenant!” She peeled out of the parking lot.

Neither of them saw the FBI agents in the Chevrolet Impala pull off behind them. And neither was aware that a tracking device had been planted beneath their car.

“What are we doing?” Gena asked, peering out the window.

“What do you mean?” Quadir asked.

“I mean, this, all of this? What are we doing?”

“We’re running. What does it look like?”

“I know, I can see that we’re running; it’s just that I’m trying to figure out where we’re going from here.”

“Safe, we’re going somewhere safe.”

“Safe, did you say safe? That’s a fucking joke, but then again, I guess I would be safe with you, huh? Now you can call your wolves off, right?”

“Wolves? What are you talking about?”

“Quadir, because of you, my grandmother was brutally raped, Gary is all fucked up and needs more corrective surgery, my friend Markita is dead. She was raped and then killed.”

“Hold on, Gena, I didn’t have anything to do with what happened to Gah Git or Gary or Markita. Ever since you left, I’ve been looking for you. I’m putting myself out there rescuing you and all you can do is point the finger at me like I’ve done something? I saved you from Jerrell, remember? And if I hadn’t come when I had, Rik would have had your ass tied up and buried six feet under.”

“I thought…”

“You thought wrong. I don’t know who is behind the attacks on your family. I just figured that whoever it is, he is after my money. Come to think of it, where is my money, Gena? Because I really want it back. I want my money back.”

Gena sat and listened with her eyes wide open at every word he spoke. He was telling the truth. He really did have nothing to do with the attacks. Then who the hell is after me if it’s not him?

“You haven’t been after me to get your money back?”

“After you for what? Gena, you’re going to give me my money back. I don’t have to harm you or anyone else. I know you’re going to give me my money back.”

He spoke as if he had a crystal ball foreseeing the future. Why does he think I’ll give him anything? Is he crazy? Does he really think that I would give him all that money so he can go run off with his Doctor Dolittle bitch and have a merry life, while I have nothing? He must be mad. I won’t do it.

Quadir pulled over the car to the side of the road, put it in park, and took his foot off the brake. Raindrops began to drizzle, hitting the windshield with every breath he took.

“What?” Gena asked as she kept her eyes glued out the window, unwilling to face him.

“Gena, I want my money. Had I died, Gena, then you would certainly be the rightful owner of my hidden treasure. But you aren’t, and I just need you to do the right thing. I really, really, really need you to do the right thing.”

“Or what, Quadir?”

He looked at her strangely. “What do you mean or what?”

“What I said. Or what? If I don’t give you back your money and do the right thing, then what?”

Quadir thought for a moment. Ever since they had been together he had done nothing but provide for Gena, take care of Gena, and love Gena. To this day, he still did. He couldn’t believe that she was that selfish and that greedy, that she wouldn’t willingly give him back his paper.

“Then this is where we say good-bye. You go your way and I go mine.”

“Just like that, you’d let me go? You’d let me walk away with your money?”

“You know what, Gena, if I had to hurt you, or do anything outside my character in order to make you return my money, then I wouldn’t want it. I want my money; yes, I do. I hustled for that shit, I died for that dough-of course I want my money. But you have it now and I can’t make you give it to me. It’s not a pawn, it’s not an option, it’s not a deal. There are no deals here, Gena. You want to give me my money back, fine. You don’t want to give me my money back, then all that shows me is that all this time I was completely wrong about you. And if I’m wrong, then I don’t want to be right. You take it, have it all, if that’s what you want, but I swear to God, you’ll never ever have to worry about ever seeing me again. Ever.”

He spoke with true conviction in his tone. He wanted to be as forceful as possible without hurting her. He didn’t know if she believed him, but every word he spoke was the God’s honest truth. If she didn’t tell him where his money was, he had every intention of leaving her standing on the side of the road, he had every intention of moving on, even if it meant moving on without her.

She watched as the rain fell and listened to every word he spoke. Deep down, she knew he was right. She also knew that once she gave him the money, she’d probably never see him again. The money was his, all his. It wasn’t hers; he was right. And the right thing to do was to let him have it. If that’s what he wanted, then she would oblige him and give it back.

“It’s at 4-U-Self-Storage,” she whispered as she kept her head turned away from him. The last thing she wanted him to see was her tears. The little bit of pride she had was swallowed up by his demands and the reality that she would be left with nothing, not even him.