Murdergram, Part 2 Page 14

  “Your best? You’re nothing but a fuckup, bitch! I fuckin’ made you!” he shouted. “I brought you into this organization, and this is the thanks I get. I assign you a simple task, and months go by while she still breathes.”

  “You find that bitch yourself!” she shouted.

  “Don’t fuck with me, cunt! I’ll bury you where you stand. You always been useless!”

  Tamar frowned heavily at his comment. She clenched her fists and gazed at the kitchen knives behind him. Her bloodthirsty mind had her ready to thrust one of them into his chest.

  E.P. stepped closer to Tamar, crowding her personal space and looking like a threat to her, his gun holstered under his jacket.

  Tamar didn’t draw back from him. She scowled too, knowing that the special thing they had with each other was dissolving.

  “If Cristal was alive, she would have gotten it done,” he said.

  She was infuriated. She hated when E.P. brought her name up and tried to use her as an example whenever she failed at something. Tamar always felt second-rate to Cristal when it came to E.P. She was the rebound bitch—the bitch who did his dirty work. But he never respected her.

  Tamar cursed him out, her mouth spewing venom and insults his way. When E.P. suddenly slapped her out of the blue, she didn’t see it coming. She staggered from his blow and touched her bloody lip.

  She rushed to grab a twelve-inch kitchen knife from the wooden knife block. She pointed the large knife at him with the urge to carve him up like a pumpkin on Halloween.

  E.P. snatched the Glock from its holster and aimed it at her head. “Once again, you bring a knife to a gun fight.”

  They were suddenly propelled into a standoff, their eyes locked into each other.

  “Don’t be stupid, Tamar.”

  “I will fuckin’ kill you where you stand,” she said through clenched teeth.

  Tamar’s breathing was heavy. She once again felt that she was being set up. Something wasn’t right.

  Although she wanted to thrust the knife into E.P.’s heart and butcher him, Tamar knew she couldn’t kill him. As a top associate in the Commission, he was off-limits. His murder would bring certain death upon her. But she was ready to protect herself if need be. She’d become quite skillful with knives over the years.

  E.P. glared at her and the knife in her hand. He knew he had to control his emotions. Besides, he still needed her to track down Melissa Chin and kill her.

  “Look, we’re both getting out of control here,” he said, lowering the gun from her head. “Let’s me and you talk it out like grown adults.”

  “Talk about what?”

  Though he lowered the gun, she continued to keep the knife lifted in his direction.

  “I’m sorry that I put my hands on you. It was uncalled for,” he said. “You know my temper. You’re still my favorite.” He smiled at her somewhat.

  She didn’t return the smile.

  E.P. became cool, but Tamar didn’t trust him. He was a conniving character and a slick talker. Despite his soft words, she could see in his eyes that he wanted her dead.

  Tamar lowered the knife and kept her eyes on him. “So where do we go from here?” “Back to business, like usual,” he replied.

  “Business?”

  “Melissa Chin is still out there, right? She’s still a threat, and they want her dead.”

  E.P. didn’t have much more information on Melissa. It was still the same. Why was it so hard for him or the Commission to locate her? Why was there so little known about her?

  Tamar quickly put two and two together, and it dawned on her—Melissa Chin had to be an unsanctioned hit. That’s why he knew so little about her. E.P. had been playing her all along. She didn’t let on what she had figured out.

  She started to question the hit she did on Cristal. Did it come from the Commission, or did it come from E.P.?

  E.P. had her embroiled in his mess, and she didn’t see any way out of it.

  She started to think about her career with the Commission over the years. The money she’d made from killing had accumulated into seventeen million in an overseas account. She wanted to withdraw every dime of it and possibly make a run for it with her sisters and her little brother, the only people she cared about.

  She thought about that plan, but in reality she knew it wouldn’t work. She had two choices: She could either leave now without her money and disappear, or she could stay and try to fix the mess E.P. got her into.

  Scared for her own life, Tamar plotted to get in contact with the Commission somehow and expose E.P. She wanted to clear her name and plead her case for mercy.

  Twenty

  Sharon walked into the captain’s office with a calm demeanor, but she couldn’t help being nervous. Being in the captain’s office was like being in the principal’s office.

  “Shut my door,” Captain Haymond said brashly.

  Sharon did so and stepped into his office wearing civilian attire.

  Captain Haymond, in a white shirt and black tie, with police insignias decorating his shirt, sat in his high-back leather chair behind his wraparound desk cluttered with photos of his family, paperwork, files, his computer, and other knickknacks. He gazed at Sharon impassively.

  “Have a seat.”

  She took a seat directly in front of him

  Captain Haymond was a burly white male with a military background. He had olive skin, cropped hair, deep blue eyes, and a dark mustache. He was stern but just. He locked eyes with Sharon, who remained silent, knowing to let the man speak first.

  “You’re a good cop, Sharon, and you have the bones to become a great cop.”

  Sharon smiled inwardly, but she knew there was more to come.

  “You’re off the hook for the Richard Jefferson shooting. Internal Affairs cleared it and deemed it to be a justified shooting. So you’re back in. No more absence with pay or light duty. Congratulations,” he said without a smile.

  “Thank you, Captain Haymond.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.” He picked up a few sheets of paperwork from off his desk and tossed it her way.

  Sharon’s eyes shifted down to the white sheets covered in handwriting. She had her assumptions about what was on those sheets.

  “You know what that is?” he asked.

  “I have an idea.”

  “Those are three civilian complaints against you for this month alone, Officer Green. Three!”

  “Who was the third complaint, sir?” she asked.

  “Don’t worry about who. You need to be worried about me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now listen to me and listen very closely and clearly. The Parnell Watkins case is now off-limits to you. Do you understand me?”

  “But Captain—”

  “Don’t ‘but Captain’ me. All I want from you is a yes or no answer.”

  It was hard for Sharon to say yes. She felt she was so close to knowing something. Her gut told her two females had committed the murder. She even suspected that she might have known them.

  “Answer me, Officer Green. Do you understand me? If you do not back off this case, then I will be forced to suspend you without pay this time, or worse, I’ll have you back in uniform and directing traffic in the South Bronx.”

  “I understand. I’ll back off.”

  “Wise choice,” he said. “Now leave my office. And welcome back.”

  Sharon stood up and left immediately. The minute she was outside the captain’s office, she wanted to scream out and punch something. She didn’t want Pike to be forgotten, but she also needed her job.

  She sighed heavily as she went into the locker room to relax for a moment. She went into the ladies’ bathroom to splash her face with some water to wash away the tears trickling from her eyes. Pike’s death would always disturb her, and she could never leave it alone or forget about it. She wanted to believe that there would be justice for his murder. His case couldn’t end up like Biggie’s or Tupac’s. There had to be someone fighting for Pik
e, and she would be his warrior, even if it meant losing her job.

  Sharon got her mind clear and herself ready to fight crime and arrest bad guys. She joined back up with her partner and hit the Bronx streets on a chilly, fall day.

  “Welcome back,” her partner, Brian Mauldin, said smiling.

  “You miss me?”

  “Like I miss an STD.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, you missed me.”

  ...

  With Pike’s case off-limits to her, Sharon started to concentrate on Cristal’s case to keep busy with something while she was off-duty. Cristal was a good friend of hers, and the way she and her family were murdered was evil.

  Using her computer savvy, she went through police file after file, going through encrypted information. She spent hours on her laptop in her home, reading every piece of information about her friend’s case, going through photo after photo of the bodies in the apartment. She had grown close to Cristal’s family over the years, from Grandmother Hattie to the cousins and aunts. It was hard to look at each gruesome photo and not tear up. It felt like her own family had been brutally murdered. She had to wipe away her tears, be strong and continue on. There was something evil out there, and she was determined to find out what it was. Tamar had proclaimed it was drug-related, but Sharon wasn’t buying it.

  As Sharon dug further, she found that the feds had taken over the case and started their own investigation. But there weren’t any eyewitnesses like in Pike’s case.

  Sharon soon stumbled across some classified documents. There was also something strange about Cristal’s case; like someone was hiding something. Sharon leaned back in her chair and sighed. Once again, it felt like she was getting nowhere. She wanted to dig further, but she didn’t have any authorization. The feds were way over her pay grade. Her hands were tied.

  She sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. It was after midnight, her apartment was quiet and still, and she had been at her laptop reading and looking at pictures for so long that her legs started to become numb. When she stood up to stretch, her legs felt like jelly. She plopped down on the sofa near her workstation and stretched out. Sharon needed to relax and take a quick breather. She was a hard worker and had always been, but she needed help. But who could she turn to?

  She lingered on the sofa for a moment with her feet propped up on the end. Her eyes remained close, trying to brainstorm a name. Then out of nowhere she thought of someone. How could she forget about him? It had been so long since they had spoken or seen each other.

  She jumped up and went to grab her cell phone from off her desk. She scrolled through the names until she came Domenic Swarthy. Seeing his name again made her smile and reminisce.

  ...

  They’d met after she graduated from the Police Academy. She had taken a trip to upstate New York for a few days before starting her new job as an NYPD police officer. Sharon was alone in Buffalo, New York, sightseeing Niagara Falls, enjoying some solitude. She had taken advantage of her time in Buffalo, walking across the Rainbow Bridge into Canada and viewing the three waterfalls.

  Her modest vacation upstate provided a distraction from everything going on in her life. With Pike gone and Cristal too, it felt like New York City was trying to swallow her up with grief and pain. Sharon had graduated from the Academy with flying colors, but she had never been outside the city, and though Buffalo was still in the state of New York, being in a different atmosphere was fairly refreshing for her.

  She met Domenic at a café one morning. She was waiting on line, while he was seated at a window table, reading the local paper. She was about to exit the café with her latte when Domenic stopped her to compliment her beauty and dark skin. He was a tall Italian man, six two, with breathtaking features and short, dirty-blonde hair. He had an infectious smile that radiated charm. His chest filled out his shirt, and his stomach was a washboard of abs.

  Immediately, Sharon was attracted to him. They conversed all morning, getting to know each other respectfully, and by that evening, they were fucking each other’s brains out in her hotel room. Domenic was the first man she had been with since Pike’s death.

  She remembered her legs spread open as his hips thrust forward, impaling her with his big dick. For a white, Italian man, he was blessed in size and width. She let out a grunt at the motion, her hands tensed into fists as her whole body went stiff as a board beneath him. They embraced tightly, grinding and pounding, humping, and grunting. Her body shook with a wave of pleasure that raced through her whole body. He was fully on top of her, gripping the back of her thighs, fucking her fervently in the missionary position.

  When his mouth touched hers, a jolt of electricity passed between them. Her mind was awash with waves of lust as he was inside of her.

  After their sexual rendezvous, Sharon learned he was a field agent with the FBI and had been with them for five years. They had a lot in common. They both came from rough neighborhoods and went into law enforcement because they felt it was their calling, and both had lost a loved one. Domenic had lost a younger brother to drugs, and his best friend to a car accident, and she told him about Pike.

  After Niagara Falls, the two continued to see each other in the city. However, the affair was brief. He had a wife and kids, and had been married for eight years. After two months, she ended things between them.

  ...

  Sharon looked at Agent Swarthy’s number and dialed it. She hoped it was the same number. She had no other way to contact him. The phone rang in her ear. She blew air out of her mouth and waited.

  “Hello. Agent Swarthy speaking. Who’s calling?”

  Hearing his voice again made her smile, thinking about the fling they once had. But she kept it civilized and controlled her hormones, remembering he was a married man.

  “Hey, Domenic. It’s me, Officer Green.”

  “Sharon, it’s good to hear from you again.”

  “Are you still in the city?”

  “Nowhere else.”

  She didn’t want to beat around the bush. “Can we meet?”

  “Not a problem. When and where?”

  “Is tomorrow good for you?”

  “What time?”

  “Noon.”

  “Yes, that works,” he confirmed.

  Sharon gave him the location, and they talked briefly. He inquired about her well-being and career, and she told him everything was okay.

  ...

  Sharon walked into the Brooklyn park that sunny afternoon dressed a little better than usual in a white camisole top under a fall jacket and a pair of black coated high-waist jeans. Her heels strutted across the green grass as she walked toward the park bench where Domenic was already waiting for her, dressed in a dark suit and tie, looking like a federal agent. Most of all, he was still a very handsome man.

  She smiled seeing him again, and he returned the smile.

  “I’m glad you came,” she greeted.

  “Anything for you.”

  They hugged. She kissed him on his cheek. He smelled so good. She noticed he still had on his wedding ring. It didn’t matter; they were only friends.

  “You look good, Sharon,” he said.

  “And you too. What’s it been? Three years now? I’m surprised your number is still the same.”

  “You know, nothing changes about me.” He smiled. “So what brings me to the park on a warm day like today?”

  “I need a favor from you.”

  “Shoot away.”

  Sharon handed him a manila folder as they sat on the park bench. “I need your resources for this case I’ve been looking into.”

  He opened the folder and leafed through the little pages inside. He examined a few pages quickly and said, “I see the FBI has taken over this case.”

  “The more reason why I need your help.”

  He didn’t cringe when he saw the photos of the dead family sprawled across the apartment floor. He had seen worse. “They did a number on this family. Animals.”

  “The victim
s were friends of mine.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.” She took a deep breath. “As you know, with this case handed over to the feds, my access to it is limited.”

  “And you need my reach.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll see what I can do for you.”

  “I would appreciate it so much. I knew I could count on you.”

  Domenic closed the folder and looked at Sharon. They lingered on the park bench after talking. The way he looked at her, it was obvious he was still attracted to her. She gazed back, holding back her flirtatious behavior. She’d dressed for him, but she didn’t want to take it any farther than the friendship that developed between them.

  “You know, if I wasn’t married, I would have definitely been with you.”

  She smiled. “It was fun while it lasted.”

  “And it could still last.”

  “I’m not a home-wrecker, Domenic,” she replied respectfully.

  “I know. It’s one of the many reasons why I love and respect you. You’re different.”

  Sharon stood up, ready to leave. “How soon can you do that for me?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “Give me a week, tops.”

  “Okay. Bye.”

  “Bye, beautiful.”

  Sharon turned and walked away. Her wide smile hidden from his view, she could feel Domenic’s eyes on her backside. She knew he was watching her walk away.

  Domenic was right. If he wasn’t a married man, they would’ve had a chance together. He wasn’t Pike, but he sure came close.

  Twenty-One

  Sharon’s cell phone rang while she was enjoying a soothing, warm bubble bath while listening to Chanté Moore and Kenny Lattimore. She jumped out of the tub dripping wet and snatched her cell phone from the sink counter. Seeing it was Domenic calling, she immediately answered the call.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, did I call you at a bad time?”

  “Oh, no, I’m just home, trying to relax,” she said.

  “I looked into the case and found out something major.”

  Sharon was listening intently, ready to hear what he had to say. She quickly toweled off with the cell phone to her ear. As she wrapped the towel around her wet, naked frame and knotted it near her chest, Domenic said to her, “Are you ready for this?”