

No One Is Innocent: A Jasmine Myers Mystery

Gayle Tiller

Copyright © 2018 by Gayle Tiller

Smashwords Edition

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this novel may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information, please email gayletiller@yahoo.com.

## Chapter One

It's two in the morning and I can't sleep. This evening I found out that Keith was having a baby with his new wife.

Keith and I were married for eight years and for the last three years of our marriage, we tried making a baby and couldn't.

It wasn't like there was anything wrong with either one of us. The doctor said Keith's sperm count was on the low side of normal but other than that, he was perfectly fine.

As for me, the doctor told me that it would take a little bit longer to get pregnant because I was a woman in my thirties.

Believe me, we tried. At one point, we were having sex almost every day. I want to say that we made love, but it really wasn't. It was very mechanical with no passion.

I can't remember how many times I would tell Keith it was time to have sex because I was ovulating. He would get up like he was some kind of machine and just do it. After about ten or fifteen minutes, he would sneeze just before he was ready to come and then he was done.

He always would say, "Maybe we just made our little one" and fall sleep. His sneezing and falling asleep afterward got on my nerves. I never could figure out why he sneezed. He might have been allergic to himself or something. It was just strange. As for the falling asleep, I guess a lot of men did that.

As for my own satisfaction, I never even pretended that I got anything out of it. I wasn't going to fake something I didn't feel. I know most women do, but I'm not one of them.

But Keith knew how to kiss and hug. He always made me feel special when he held me in his arms. I guess that is what I really miss.

I also miss the fact that as fine as Keith was, he was never caught up on his looks. He had G.Q. looks and yet he was so down to earth. He was 6'2" and had a body that had the right kind of muscles. Not your body builder type of muscles but the muscles of a basketball player.

His hair was thick and curly and he had the most luscious lips that I have ever seen on a man. I remember when I met him twelve years ago, staring at those nice thick juicy lips and thinking how much I wanted to kiss him.

But there was more to Keith than his face and body; he also cared about people. He was always helping people with their problems. He was a college professor at San Jose State during the day and at night and on the weekends, he was involved with a number of political organizations.

Keith was what most women would call a good man. So, when he asked me to marry him, I naturally said "yes."

After a few months of marriage, I had to compete with Keith's other love, the community. When I say community, I don't mean the typical black community. In San Jose, we don't have a black part of town. Instead, we are spread out all over from Berryessa to Evergreen to the Eastside. So, you never know where you're going to run into black folks.

There are 50,000 of us in San Jose. That may seem like a lot of folks, but it really isn't. San Jose has close to a million people. Latinos are the biggest minority followed by Asians.

San Jose is a wannabe city. It's not like Oakland or San Francisco which are real cities. San Jose is a giant suburb that just keeps on growing.

Of course, the politics is like anywhere else. There is an African-American power structure; and Keith was a part of this leadership. Not that the leadership was all that powerful. There only had been a handful of African-American city council members in the history of San Jose.

Keith had political aspirations, but he didn't want to be a politician. No, instead he was into attending all these community meetings. He constantly would have me waiting up for him to come home from a meeting.

Most of the time I would be home by myself until ten or eleven at night before Keith would walk in. Now, that's fine when I'm working long hours in my business as a private investigator, but when I haven't had a major case in a while, I expect to spend time with my husband.

And with Keith, it seemed like the only times when I would see him was in the morning when he got ready for work and when he came home to go to sleep. We used to argue about this all the time.

He would tell me that if I wanted to see him more that I needed to get involved with the organizations he spent time with.

Politics has never been my thing. I vote and I read the paper. But I never wanted to be a community activist. Despite our differences, Keith and I managed to be together for five years without any major incidents. I would go to the important events with him and be his dedicated wife.

To everyone on the outside, we were the perfect couple. But I got tired of playing that charade. I finally got the courage to tell Keith that I wanted a man who would give me attention when I needed it and would spend time with me when I wanted it.

That's when Keith came up with the idea that it was time for us to have a baby. We were both in our thirties. We had a house. Our finances were good. So naturally, it was time to start a family.

That was fine with me. We tried and we tried over and over for the next three years and as you know, the baby never happened.

I finally offered Keith the proposition of adopting a baby. After all, there were plenty of African-American babies in foster homes.

Keith refused to consider this. He had been adopted and he felt that his birth mother had abandoned him. He never forgave her. He even tried to find her, but he was unsuccessful. When I offered my help, he wasn't interested.

He blamed me for failing to get pregnant and called me "infertile."

I knew that this was not the case. Back in college, I dated Eric who is the only other man that I have been with. Well, that's not true. There have been a few others, but they're not worth discussing.

Eric had the prettiest brown eyes that I have ever seen and had a nice cleft chin. He was absolutely gorgeous.

At the time, Eric was a psychology student at San Jose State. When I first met Eric, I knew that we would be together.

After we were friends for a year, we started dating. At the age of 21, I lost my virginity to Eric and I'm glad that Eric was the one.

Let's just say, without going into details, Eric definitely knew how to satisfy a woman.

You know how you can get addicted to something, because it feels so good. After a few weeks of being with Eric, I just couldn't get enough of him.

But like any other addiction, it had drawbacks. Eric was always broke; he always needed money for something: his rent, food or books.

During our year and half relationship, I must have given him over five grand. He then got an eviction notice and asked me for money. I gave him the phone number to Legal Aid, told him I was tired of his poor ass living off me and left him.

A month later, I found out I was pregnant. I wasn't ready to become a mother. On top of this, I was raised to believe that you shouldn't have a child if you are not married. There was no point in telling Eric, because he definitely was not husband material- let alone father material. So I terminated my pregnancy.

I never told Keith, because I knew his feelings on abortion. He felt that abortion was murder and that for a black woman to have abortion was genocide. When Keith called me "infertile," I just ignored his comments and said nothing.

My marriage got to the point where I just couldn't stand being with Keith. Keith was never home. The sex was terrible. I knew that no matter how much we tried, the baby would never happen. The bottom line was that we had no chemistry and we just weren't compatible.

After eight years of marriage, I told Keith I was leaving him. When he asked me if there was another man, I wanted to laugh.

Not once did I ever consider having an affair. No, I was leaving Keith for my future, for my sense of well-being. It had nothing to do with anyone else.

My break up with Keith ended two years ago. Since the divorce, I have only gone out on a few dates. The thing that I don't like about dating is that after a couple of dates, a man wants to bed you down.

I can't deal with that. I'm old-fashioned. I like romance. Holding hands. Taking long walks. Gazing into each other's eyes.

Single men nowadays just don't understand courtship and most don't even want to learn what it means to be a gentleman.

It seems like all of the good men are with someone else. The reality is that there is a shortage of our men. And a lot of women will go out with a man who belongs to someone else, just to say that they have a man. I am not into sharing someone else's husband or boyfriend. To me, half of a man is the same as having no man at all. And quite frankly, I'd rather be myself than be in that type of bullshit relationship.

Some say I'm stuck up and I have no right be. After all, I'm no beauty queen. I am 5'9" and I have no breasts or ass. I'm just straight up and down.

God knows how many exercises I have tried to build up my breasts and my legs. I even tried those weight-gaining products but instead of gaining of weight, I just got sick to my stomach.

But at the age of 37, I have finally learned to appreciate my body. If a man doesn't like me just because of my body, it's not my problem. It's his problem. Like my friend Sheila always says, "If a man wants more than a mouthful, he is just plain greedy."

Right now, I like being alone. As for my ex-husband, he just could not cope with being single. Keith found a woman who was a virgin at the age of 30.

And yes, there are still women who believe in saving themselves for marriage. Now, Loretta is so goddamn pure, it's sickening. Drinking and cussing are foreign to her. I have never heard her say a bad thing about anybody. She's a kindergarten teacher and good at her job.

Loretta is on the plump side and very religious. She goes to Bible study Tuesday and Thursday nights and she used to be a Sunday school teacher.

I'm glad that Keith has Loretta, because he needs someone to take care of him.

But a part of me hurts, because he and Loretta were able to make a baby.

Yes, I know in the end even with a baby, we probably still would have divorced. But if we had created a child, I would have gotten something out of our marriage.

Instead, I have nothing. All I did was waste eight years of my life with him. Okay, I didn't waste it. It just feels like I didn't really accomplish anything.

So I'm a little jealous of Loretta, but I'll get over it.

I'll send them a card congratulating them. No, I can't do that because I heard through the grapevine that Loretta doesn't want him to talk to me. For some reason, she thinks that I am the bad woman and that I'll try to steal him from her.

No, the reality is that Loretta can keep him and I don't want him back.

It's too bad Keith and I can't be at least friends, but you know how new wives are.

Oh well. Here's to Keith and Loretta's future and to their child's future. May their lives be filled with happiness.

As for me, I know that my future will be fine. Since breaking up with Keith, I have doubled the number of clients and business is booming.

Yes, I am okay. Yes, I made the right choice in leaving Keith. Look at the time, it's already three in the morning. Let me try to get some sleep.

* * *

When I arrived at my office at 7:00 in the morning, there was an African-American woman in her mid-thirties already waiting for me at the door. She had long thick black hair. She was about 5'8" with the kind of body that women would die for. She had full breasts, a waist that could not have been bigger than 27 inches, and a well-rounded ass. She tried to hide her body in a conservatively cut navy blue dress, but it was useless.

She was the kind of woman that most women took an instant dislike to, because she was gorgeous and she knew it.

But despite her looks, there was something different about her. I didn't know what it was, but I somehow felt connected to her.

She looked me over cautiously and said, "You're Jasmine Myers, right?"

I nodded and grumbled, "I see people by appointments only. Why don't I get my appointment book and schedule an appointment with you later this week."?

"It can't wait. It's an emergency. My husband was killed three days ago and I need to find out who killed him as soon as possible."

I said, "I'm sorry about your husband. But I like I said before, I don't see people without appointments."

"Don't you know who I am?"

Who the hell does she think she is? The woman is already displaying an attitude. Whoever she is, she sure isn't important enough to be hanging outside my door this early in the morning.

She looked at me and said, "I am Kristal Woods- recipient of the Citizens' of the Year Award in San Jose, Chairwoman of the Commission on Status of Women for the State of California, and teacher of the year for the school district."

My memory suddenly clicked, I had seen her at a couple functions in the past that Keith and I had attended. She also had been on the news a few times.

Kristal said, "Look Jasmine, I heard that you are the best in the business. And if there's anyone who can track down the killer of my husband, it's you."

"Who gave you these great reviews about me?"

"Keith Rawlings."

"Oh. How do you know him?"

"He and I have worked on some community projects together."

Hell, at least Keith still refers business to me.

"Jasmine, are you going to let me in? I really want to talk now."

For a woman who is into helping people, I'll give her a few minutes. "Okay, Kristal, you can come in. But just don't let it get back to anyone in the community."

She smiled and said, "You can count on me to keep a secret."

I opened the door to my office. Kristal winced. The off-white walls were barren and the carpet was a dingy brown with a couple of stains. The right side of my office was cluttered with a several piles of cases spread out on a couple of folding tables. My off-black metal bookcase held my awards and certificates.

In the middle sat my glass-top desk that was smeared with a few handprints. On top of my desk was my laptop, phone and a few files.

I took a seat behind my desk and motioned Kristal to sit down.

Kristal sat down and pulled out a picture. "This is my husband Ralph. He was a captain in the San Jose Fire Department and the President of the Black Firefighters. He was lobbying the department for the selection of an African-American fire chief, because as you know our last chief died a few months ago of a heart attack.

The selection was down to two candidates- Richard Carpenter- a brother and Melvin Grady- a white man. The word on the inside was that Richard had the job. His qualifications were a lot better than Grady's. He had a master's degree, served in the department for twenty-five years, and had an excellent record. Grady had only an AA degree and served the department for fifteen years and had an average record.

A few weeks ago, the City Manager was scheduled to announce her selection for the new chief. Out of the blue, Richard announced that he was leaving the department, because he had received an offer from Oakland to be its new chief. Grady was selected by default. Well, Ralph suspected foul play and requested an investigation into Richard's sudden departure. Now, my husband is dead."

I looked at her and said, "What did the police say about your husband's death?"

"They said it was a case of accidental poisoning. Ralph died from an allergic reaction to penicillin. They said the doctor had mistakenly prescribed penicillin to him for a throat infection that he had for the last couple of weeks.

Ralph never would have taken penicillin under any circumstance. A few years ago, he almost died from an allergic reaction. As a result, he always wore his bracelet saying he was allergic to penicillin."

I looked at the picture. Ralph was a handsome man. He was tall, had a nice lean hard body, light eyes, and wavy hair. He and Kristal made a striking couple.

I paused and said, "Did he have the bracelet on when he died?"

"Yes."

"I'm not a lawyer, but I think you have a great case for medical malpractice. As for murder, I just don't see it. I think your husband may have forgotten to tell the doctor he was allergic to penicillin. It happens."

Kristal stared at me in disbelief and angrily said, "How can you say something like that?"

"I understand the loss of your husband hurts a lot. But for someone to kill your husband over the investigation of the departure of a candidate for fire chief, it just doesn't make sense."

Tears began to form in Kristal's eyes. She cried, "There's absolutely no way that my husband would have voluntarily taken penicillin. He knew penicillin would kill him."

She paused, looked at me directly in the eyes and said, "And my husband definitely had a reason to be careful and not just for his life. A few weeks ago, I learned that I was pregnant with our first child and Ralph was so happy. There's just no way he would not have told the doctor about being allergic."

What is this month? National Pregnancy Month for Women over 35? The last thing I needed to hear was this. Forget about my biological clock ticking, it was at the point where it could explode any minute.

She had to be crazy to think that someone tried to off her husband. But hell, if she has the money to hire me, I'll take the case.

I said, "I'll do some checking for you, but I won't promise you anything. My fee is $400 per day plus expenses with a $2,500 retainer."

Kristal searched her purse for her checkbook, quickly wrote a check for $2,500 like it was nothing and shoved it at me.

I looked at Kristal and said, "I'll need to come by your house and just look around. How about two o'clock this afternoon?"

Kristal smiled and said, "Sure, I'll be there. My address is on the check."

"Kristal, I have an eight o'clock appointment this morning. If you don't mind, we need to end our meeting."

"Sure."

I got up, walked her to the door and shook her hand.

I had just made an easy $2,500. I would do some checking. But the odds that Ralph was murdered had to be equal to the odds of winning the lottery.

## Chapter Two

I called my father from my office. My father worked in the homicide unit of the San Jose Police Department. He truly loved his work.

But my father was more than a good employee, he also was a good father.

When I was fifteen, my mother died of breast cancer. Mama's death was very hard on me. Dad's support and love gave me the strength to go on. Without him, I don't how I would have coped. He is a very special man and I am proud that he is my father.

"Dad, how are you?"

"Same old stuff. Jazz, what's up?"

"Do you know anything about the death of Ralph Woods?"

"His wife Kristal has been calling us for the past three days claiming that someone poisoned him with penicillin."

"Have any merit?"

"Between you and me, I think she's lost her mind. But because she and the Mayor are tight, we looked into the case. The toxicology report says it was an accidental poisoning."

"What about the fact that her husband was investigating into why the African-American candidate for fire chief suddenly left for Oakland?"

"Come on, that isn't enough. People leave departments for higher paying jobs all the time. So, Jazz did you take the case?"

"Dad, you know my motto. If they have the dinero, I'll take it."

"She just wasted money on you, because you're not going to find anything except for a malpractice suit."

"Maybe you're right. But you know me, once I get started I'm bound to find something."

"Jazz knowing you, you probably will. Anyway, I have a meeting with the Mayor in about five minutes, so I'll call you later."

The next few hours, I busied myself with phone calls to various clients. At 1:30, I left the office to drive to Kristal's house, which was located in the Evergreen District of San Jose.

Her townhouse was part of a development for moderate-income buyers in San Jose. Kristal greeted me at the door and led me to the living room, which was almost empty except for a couch, a chair, and two small rugs on its hardwood floors.

I asked, "How long have you lived here?"

"We just moved in a few weeks ago. We used to live in a small one-bedroom apartment. We ordered more furniture for the house."

That explained the sparseness. "Did Ralph keep a diary or a journal?"

"Not that I know of."

"What about a notebook or log?"

"No, I don't think so. Anyway, I want to show you my husband's bracelet."

She placed a silver bracelet in my hand. The bracelet clearly indicated that Ralph Woods was allergic to penicillin and if he received a dose of penicillin, it could be fatal. The date of the bracelet was August 21, 1998.

"Do you have the bottle of the penicillin pills that your husband took?"

"Yeah, this is it," She said while she handed it to me.

I looked at the bottle's label. It read: Dr. Creighton, Penicillin take 1 capsule orally 3 times a day until gone. Ralph G. Woods 10/1/05.

I asked, "Can I take this with me?"

"Sure, go ahead."

I put the bottle in a plastic bag and then put it inside my briefcase.

"Where did your husband die?"

"He died at his fire station on Friday at two thirty in the morning. No one was able to revive him."

"What's the station number?"

"Number 46- the Berryessa Fire station."

"I'll need to check out the fire station. Mind, if I look around the house?"

"No, go ahead."

I walked around, entered the study and saw a computer sitting on a desk. I beckoned Kristal to join me.

I pointed to the computer. "Do you know Ralph's password?"

"No," she responded.

"That's okay, I can get access." I pulled out authorization papers from my purse and handed them to her.

"After you sign this, I can contact the Internet provider and request access to his email. Also, I would like to download everything so I can look through Ralph's files."

Kristal signed the papers. "I have a couple things that I am working on, but I should be done by tomorrow. After that you can copy everything."

"Sounds good. Changing the subject, you wouldn't have the phone number for Richard Carpenter?"

Kristal dictated the number to me.

"Kristal, I have to get going. But I'll call you after I do some research. If you think of anything, let me know."

We said our goodbyes. I left and drove back to my office.

When I sat down at my desk, I realized I had forgotten to eat my lunch, which was so typical whenever I took on a new case. I called the corner deli and ordered my favorite sandwich- turkey and Swiss on dark rye with a bag of corn chips and a Dr. Pepper.

I then called Chief Carpenter. To my surprise, his secretary said he was in.

"Chief Carpenter, my name is Jasmine Myers and I am a private investigator. I was hired by Kristal Woods."

Chief Carpenter responded, "I heard about Ralph. He was not only a good man, but one of the best firefighters we had in the department."

"Chief, I'm sorry about Ralph."

I paused for a few seconds and said, "His wife believes that his death wasn't an accident."

"From the accounts that I've received, he died from accidentally taking penicillin. It's too bad Kristal is looking for someone to blame."

"Why would Kristal want to blame someone?"

"I don't know. You really need to ask her."

"Chief, would it be possible for me to meet with you to discuss the case?"

"I am really busy this week with settling in as the new chief."

"All I need is a twenty-minute interview."

"No more than twenty minutes."

"You can even time it. When the twenty minutes are up, I'll leave."

"Okay. How about two-thirty on Thursday at my office?"

"Sounds good to me. I'll see you then."

I hung up the phone. Dad could be right that it was an accident. However, I knew that I needed to meet personally with the Chief and see his reaction to my questions. Then I would know whether there was something to Kristal's allegations.

I dialed Keith's office phone number from memory. I hadn't spoken to him since he and Loretta were married five months ago. But hell, this was business. If anyone knew what was going on in the San Jose Fire Department, it would be Keith. He had connections throughout the city.

To my disappointment, Keith wasn't in. I left a quick message saying I was calling about the death of Ralph Woods. Knowing Keith, it would probably be at least couple of days before he returned my call. Just like the old days when he would practically ignore me.

Keith could be such a bastard at times. He had cared about the damn community more than me, but that was Keith, people first and his wife second.

The phone rang. I let it ring three times before answering it. I did this, because it gave folks the impression that I was busy.

"Myers Detective Agency. How may I help you?"

"Jazz, how are you? I got your message."

It was Keith. I wasn't ready to talk him.

"Keith, a client just walked in. Can I call you back in about an hour?"

"I have a late afternoon meeting so that won't work. How about lunch tomorrow at the Brick House?"

The Brick House was my favorite restaurant. Their deep-fried catfish was absolutely delicious. My stomach began to ache.

But I knew I wasn't ready to see Keith. Not in a public place anyway.

"Keith, I already have lunch plans for tomorrow. How about a conference call on Friday at three?"

"Jazz, you know I don't like doing business over the phone. How about a late lunch Friday?"

The man was persistent. There was no way I was going to lunch with him. I lied, "Keith, I have a lunch meeting on Friday."

"How about Friday at four at your office?"

Goddamn it! I didn't want to see him. I felt like lying to Keith again, but instead I said, "Friday at my office at four will work for me."

"Good. I'll see you then."

"Bye."

I can't believe that I just agreed to see him. But it wasn't like a date or anything. We were meeting at my office and it was just business. Nothing more than that. If Keith thought he could try to rekindle something more, it wasn't going to happen.

I called Sheila, my best friend. She is only one of two people who I really trust. The other is my friend Karen who lives in Ocean Springs, Mississippi. Karen is a housewife and she has a house full of kids. Almost every year, she is having a baby; she and her husband don't believe in birth control.

Karen and I used to hang out together back in college. We were like sisters.

Karen got her Mrs. Degree and married Jack who was a medical resident at UC San Francisco. Karen moved with him to Mississippi where he set up a family practice in his hometown of Ocean Springs.

I see Karen every two or three years. We talk on the phone every now and then, but we're not as tight as we used to be.

For the last ten years, Sheila has been my best friend. I met her at a social for professional African-American women. Ever since then, we have been inseparable. Sheila works as the head librarian at Martin Luther King, Jr. Library in San Jose.

Looking at Sheila, she appears to be so pristine and demure. She is only 5'3" and weighs about 120 pounds. Sheila wears her shoulder hair pulled back in a ponytail. With her glasses on, she looks like a classic librarian.

While Sheila has her work life in order, her personal life is another matter. Sheila has a weakness for men.

Sheila is not real picky when it comes to men. Her only requirement is that the man be good looking, has a little bit of intelligence, and is somewhere in the age range of 25 to 45.

A man's race doesn't matter. She's an equal opportunity dater. She has dated African-Americans, Latinos, Asians, Middle Easterners, Native Americans, Italians, Irish, Greeks, English, and Germans. The truth of the matter is that she would date a Martian if he met her requirements.

Of course, being a librarian, Sheila can't publicly have a different man on her arm every week. She never lets her men call her at work-except for John, William, and Gerard. She also never brings them to public gatherings. Her philosophy is that unless she is married to the man, there's no point of introducing him to anyone.

Not that Sheila is looking to get married. Sheila is 33 years old going on 18. For Sheila, there are just too many men and just too little time.

She and I always joke that on her wedding day, when the minister asks, "Does anyone object?" she would be the first to raise her hand.

But so what if Sheila is a manizer. Men have been doing it for years. So long as Sheila is happy, that's all I care about.

"Sheila, how are you doing?"

"Jazz, everything is fine."

"I just called to see if you wanted to go to dinner tonight."

"Dinner? You never call me up during the week for dinner. What's up?"

"Nothing. I just haven't seen you in a while and I thought you and I could get together."

"Whenever you say it's nothing, something is up."

"Sheila, I thought I was the private investigator. How about dinner at Kool Joe's?"

"It's Keith and his damn wife getting pregnant. Isn't it? How are you holding up?"

"I am doing fine."

"You know what I mean."

Sheila wanted to know if I had gone off the wagon. I have a drinking problem. I am not one of those drunks that you see on the street corner nor do I get blasted at public events. I am a closet drinker. I generally drink whenever I face a crisis. I pass out and won't show up for the office for a couple of days. Almost no one knows this; because whenever I am recovering from a drinking binge, I tell them I have the flu or a bad case of PMS.

Of course, Keith knew about my drinking problem. He made me go into a rehab program. Well, it didn't work. And yes, I have gone to programs, but I never could get into them. I just couldn't get into introducing myself as an alcoholic. It was like saying I was a leper or something.

So I still have my spells of drinking. But I haven't had a drink in a long time. It's been 132 days. This is the second longest time that I have been dry. The first marathon was 203 days. I'm hoping I don't start drinking again. I really don't want to, but there are times when I just can't help myself.

I answered, "Yes, Sheila I am still sober."

"Thank god. Are you going to counseling?"

"Sheila, you know I'm not into that."

"You should really go."

"I am not going."

"Okay that's your choice but promise me if you get the urge to drink, call me."

"Sure." I wanted to tell her that almost every day I had the urge to drink, but I was not interested in a long drawn out conversation about my drinking problem.

"So what's going on with you and Keith?"

"We have a meeting at my office."

"A meeting at your office. What for?

"To discuss a case."

"A case my ass. Why couldn't you talk to him over the phone?"

"Because Keith doesn't do business over the phone."

"You miss him, don't you?

"I don't know. Anyway, can we go to dinner?"

"Dinner. Sure. Not at Kool Joe's. The last time I ate there, I was sick for a week. How about the Brick House at seven?"

"Sounds good to me."

"See you later."

I hung up the phone. For the next few hours, I made phone calls to clients, logged onto the Internet to do research and email.

I looked at my watch. It was already 6:15. I went to the lady's room and put on clear lip-gloss. I can't wear lipstick, because it makes me break out. I brushed my hair and piled it high on the top my head. I definitely needed to do something with it. The last time I had it permed; the relaxer had damaged my hair to the point where all my ends were splitting. I needed to hack this stuff off and put it in braids. And if I get bold enough, I'll grow dreads.

I put on a little concealer under my eyes to cover up the dark shadows and blush to give me some color. I looked at myself in the mirror. I wasn't beautiful, but hell, I looked decent. Since I wasn't going out on a date, this was good enough.

I went back to my office, gathered my briefcase, my purse, and locked the office.

## Chapter Three

When I arrived at the Brick House, Sheila was already standing in line waiting to be seated. She was engaged in conversation with a young man of Asian and African-American descent. He was about 5'11" with a slim muscular build. He couldn't be more than 26 or 27 years old. I saw her scribble something on a napkin and hand it to him.

She nonchalantly turned toward me and said, "Hi, Jasmine. I would like you to meet Kevin. He's new in town. I'm going to show him around San Jose this weekend."

Two minutes in a restaurant and Sheila has already found a man. Well, that's Sheila for you.

I extended my hand to Kevin and shook his. "Pleased to meet you."

The waiter called out Kevin's name. Kevin then said, "It was nice meeting you Jasmine. I look forward to seeing you this weekend Sheila."

Sheila gave him a big smile and said, "So do I." Kevin then left.

Within a couple of minutes, Sheila and I were seated at a corner table.

I ordered my favorite-deep fried catfish with a baked potato, coleslaw and fresh squeezed lemonade. I am very particular about my lemonade; I don't like store bought lemonade or concentrate. I like good old-fashioned lemonade and the Brick House squeezes its own lemons.

Sheila ordered butterfish with white rice, cauliflower, and a glass of white wine. Damn, why did Sheila have to order wine? It's been too long since I had a drink. But it's not like I am into wine. Whiskey is my thing. And right now, I don't need any. No, I have everything under control.

I exhaled and said, "Sheila, I see you're in a white mood tonight."

"Jazz, I'd thought I would celebrate."

"Celebrate what?"

I saw her play with her necklace. Threaded through her necklace was a gold ring.

I pointed at the gold ring and said, "Is that what I think is?"

"Yes, it's a wedding ring."

"What are you doing with a wedding ring?"

"I got married over the weekend."

"You got married. To who? John?"

"Hell no. John left me months ago. Said I couldn't make a commitment."

"Gerard? William?"

"No, not them either."

"Sheila, I'm going to be guessing all night. I just can't keep track of all your men. So who had the honor of marrying you?"

"Brad Cullins."

"Who the hell is he?"

"Some dude I met in Las Vegas."

I laughed and said, "You married a guy in Las Vegas who you just met. Why?"

"A couple of months ago, I decided I wanted to see what it would be like to married. So, I ordered a wedding dress. Because I didn't want to get married to any of the men who I see here, I decided to go to Las Vegas and meet someone. I bought a ticket, packed my dress and met Brad at one of the slot machines. We got drunk and the next thing I knew we were married."

"How is married life?"

"It lasted all of nine hours. I got an annulment the next day."

"How come?"

"Brad was old. He was damn near seventy years old. He told me that he had a pump. We tried pumping him all night and the man still could not get hard. And you know, if a man can't satisfy me, forget it. So, I left his limp ass."

I burst out laughing, "Of all of the men, you would choose. Some old ass man. The next time, you should choose someone our age."

"No, I'm through with marriage. Once down the altar is enough for me."

"Sheila, you are so funny. So, what about Kevin- Mr. Young and Virile?"

"Jazz, he'll just be a playmate. I will let him down gently. Speaking of playmates, why is Keith calling you?"

"Keith is not calling me. I called him about a case. It's just business."

"Really now."

"Yes, really. Kristal Woods hired me to find out who killed her husband Ralph."

"I thought the paper said he accidentally died from taking penicillin."

"Kristal thinks he was murdered and because she's paying me, it's my job to find the murderer."

"Good luck. Do you know about Kristal's reputation?"

"I don't know anything about Kristal except for the fact that she definitely has an attitude."

"That's her alright. We call her the bitch, because she definitely does not know how to treat people. I don't know how she ever wound up with Ralph, because Ralph is totally the opposite. He was such a gentleman and so kind and giving."

"Did you and Ralph ever?"

"No, I knew him from the community. Give me some credit. I don't get involved with men who have anything to do with City Hall. I spoke to him from time to time, but that's about it."

"Why would Kristal think someone killed him?"

"Jazz, I don't know. Kristal is the kind of woman who always likes to be the center of attention. Kristal could be doing it for media attention."

"Yeah, I guess Kristal is just like any other beauty queen used to having her way. I guess she doesn't know what it's like to be alone."

"Oh, I guess you don't know that Kristal used to be overweight back in high school. She and I both went to Lyons Prep School. She was a senior when I was a freshman. She was so huge back then. She must have weighed over 250 pounds. The kids used to make fun of her and she only had a couple of friends who were the class nerds."

Kristal had attended private school with Sheila. I had gone to public schools and there was a part of me that wished my father had sent me to private school.

"When did she lose the weight?"

"Back in college. But she can't eat more than 1200 calories a day and she has to work out two to three hours a day or she'll start gaining weight."

"I wish I had her problem."

"Jazz, now here you go putting down yourself again because you're very slender. Hell, most white men want a woman your size."

"Sheila, you know I don't date white men. I'm not a cross cultural dater like you."

"It wouldn't hurt if you dated a white man. Not only do they pick up the tab, but they send you flowers and candy and treat you like you're special."

"So how come you're not with one now?"

"Unlike brothers who will tell you up front that you're not the only one, white men will lie to you and give you the party line that you are the only one for them. Then when you do some checking around, you find out you are just the only one for Thursday nights. But hell, if it's a Friday night, it's Suzanne. And on Saturday it's Katy."

I laughed and said, "Sheila, you're so funny."

"Anyway, after Kristal lost the weight, she completely changed. She gained self-confidence and started getting involved with the community and acquired this self-righteous attitude that she was Ms. Thang. It was the kind of attitude where no one really wanted to get close to her."

"How did she and Ralph meet?"

"I don't know. All I know is that she and Ralph are totally the opposite. She is really abrasive and he's really kind and giving."

"Ralph was a good man."

"That he was."

"Are you sure that you and Ralph never?"

"Okay, we were lovers for a minute."

"A minute?"

"It was longer than that. We used to go out. But that was over five years ago."

"At the time that you went out with him, did you know that he was allergic to penicillin?"

"Yeah, Ralph always wore this bracelet saying that he could die if he received penicillin. He even showered with it on."

"Do you think Ralph would have taken penicillin on his own?"

"I doubt it unless he were drunk or something."

"Did he drink a lot?"

"Ralph never drank. When Ralph was a teenager, his father was always passing out from drinking too much. On Ralph's seventeenth birthday, his father threw up blood all throughout their apartment. Ralph called nine-one-one, but it was too late. By the time the paramedics came, Ralph's father had died.

From that date forward, Ralph made a promise to himself that he would never drink because alcohol had killed his father."

We were silent for a minute. I asked, "So where was Ralph's mother and brothers and sisters when this happened?"

"Ralph was an only child. His mother died in a car accident when Ralph was three."

"God, Ralph had gone through so much. How did he deal with it?"

"His father left him a small life insurance policy and after high school, Ralph used this money to put himself through school so he could obtain his degree in fire science. He later joined the San Jose Fire Department and due to his hard work, he was promoted to captain."

"So Sheila, why did you and Ralph break up?"

Sheila took a deep breath and said, "I made a mistake."

"A mistake? What kind of mistake?"

"Well, you know me and commitment."

"Did Ralph break up with you because you wouldn't commit to him?"

"Something like that."

"Tell me what happened."

Sheila paused for a few seconds and said, "Ralph had been pressuring me to get engaged and I wasn't ready. I mean we had only been going out for a few months. It was just too soon."

"So you told him no."

"Not exactly."

"Sheila, stop playing games. What happened?"

"One night, Ralph came to my apartment unexpectedly. I forgot to the lock the door. He walked in and found me with another man. He cussed me out and told me to stay out of his life."

I stared into Sheila's eyes. I knew from her eyes that she was telling the truth. The fact that Sheila had slept with another man while she was seeing Ralph didn't surprise me. That's how Sheila was and for some reason she had never learned to give herself to only one man. I felt sorry for her.

She cleared her throat and said, "He and I never spoke again. Two weeks later, he started going out with Kristal."

I asked quietly, "Sheila, have you ever been in love?"

"No. I'm not ready to give any man my heart and soul. No man will ever control me."

I wasn't in the mood to play Sheila's therapist so I decided not to ask any more questions.

At least, Sheila had confirmed that Ralph was a decent man and that there might be a chance that he hadn't taken the penicillin on his own.

I couldn't figure out why Ralph could not have known what he had taken was penicillin. After all, the bottle had been labeled penicillin. It didn't make sense.

## Chapter Four

It was 1:00 in the afternoon and scorching hot. I could feel beads of sweat on my face. I had been standing in line for over ten minutes in Dr. Creighton's packed waiting room, which had no air conditioning.

After fifteen more minutes, the receptionist finally spoke to me.

The receptionist was a young slender Filipino woman who wore her long hair in a bun and had braces. She looked like she was no more than 25 years old.

She said, "Are you a patient of Dr. Creighton's?"

"No, my name is Jasmine Myers and I am a private investigator. I am investigating the death of Ralph Woods. I would like to see Dr. Creighton."

"I'm sorry but Dr. Creighton is on vacation for the next two weeks."

"I need to see Dr. Creighton's files on Ralph Woods. Look, I have a signed authorization from his widow." I handed her the authorization.

The receptionist looked at it and shook her head, "I'm sorry but I can't release the files without Dr. Creighton's approval."

Her response started to get me angry. I said in an authoritative voice, "Look miss I can't wait two weeks. If you can't help me, I would like to speak to the supervisor."

She went to get her supervisor who was a slightly overweight woman in her late forties with shoulder length braids.

The supervisor spoke and said, "I'm Nurse Hutchins. I'm sorry but until the doctor returns, we can't help you without his approval."

"Look Nurse Hutchins, it's really important that I see Ralph Woods' medical files."

"Rules are rules and I can't break them for anybody."

"Look, Ralph Woods is the husband of Kristal Woods who has done a lot for our community. Can't you make an exception?"

"Look, even if I got a call from the White House, I couldn't do it. I'm sorry. As soon as Dr. Creighton comes back, I'll call you."

"Is there anyone else I can talk to?"

"No."

"Here's my card, please give me a call when Dr. Creighton returns."

I left the waiting room, feeling hot and dejected.

I went to the women's restroom and splashed some cold water on my face.

Two weeks was too long to wait for an answer about the prescription. There had to be another way to get the information.

When I got back to my office, I pulled out the bottle of pills from my purse and looked at the label again. The pills had been issued by a local pharmacy.

I logged onto the Internet. To my disappointment, nothing came back of relevance. But that didn't mean anything. Information on the pharmacy could be hidden in a newspaper archives.

I went to the web page for archives of the local newspaper and six articles came up.

The first five were about the profit margins of the pharmacy. The last article was about the pharmacy being sued back in1998. I immediately clicked onto the article.

According to the article, the pharmacy had been sued for wrongful death because one of its pharmacists had mistakenly given a PMS patient the wrong prescription. This left the PMS patient a vegetable and eventually her family took her off the life support machines. The pharmacy had settled for a million dollars and its director and chief pharmacist were fired. The Pharmacy Board had placed it on probation for two years.

Based on the article, there probably was a good chance that the pharmacy had mistakenly given Ralph penicillin. The D.A. probably wouldn't charge the pharmacy with murder. But at a minimum, it would be charged with involuntary manslaughter. With a good jury, it would be found guilty. Kristal could file a lawsuit and count on getting a big settlement.

All I needed to do was to go to the pharmacy and do a little investigating to tie up the loose ends.

It was already four and the pharmacy closed at five. If I beat traffic, I could be there by 4:30.

* * *

When I got to the pharmacy, no one was in the air-conditioned waiting room. I walked up to the desk and asked for the head pharmacist.

The head pharmacist walked in. He was a short thin, balding man in his early sixties with a ruddy complexion and a large broken nose.

"I'm Dr. Kelley. How may I help you?"

"My name is Jasmine Myers and I am a private investigator. I am investigating the death of Ralph Woods. It is my understanding he received penicillin on October 1, 2005. I have authorization from his widow to look at his file."

I handed Dr. Kelley the authorization.

"Sure, let's look at his records."

Dr. Kelley downloaded Ralph's file from the computer and then printed a hard copy of Ralph's record.

"On October 1, 2005, there was an order for erythromycin placed by Ralph G. Woods. The prescribing doctor was Dr. Creighton. There was no order for penicillin," Dr. Kelley proclaimed.

My heart skipped a beat. Everything was falling into place. I couldn't wait to call Kristal with the news. "Do you have the original prescription by Dr. Creighton?"

"Sure, it's right here in Mr. Woods' file." Dr. Kelley then clicked opened the prescription, which was dated October 1, 2005 and signed by Dr. Creighton. It said that erythromycin was to be taken three times daily.

"Dr. Kelley, apparently, there has been a mistake. Mr. Woods was given a prescription for penicillin and not for erythromycin."

"What do you mean?"

I pulled out the bottle of penicillin and handed it to him.

He looked at the bottle and said, "This was not issued by our pharmacy."

"It has your name on it and the prescription number."

"Since 1998, we have photographed every label that goes on the bottle of our pharmaceuticals. This is not one of our labels. I'll show a copy of the label that went on the bottle for Mr. Woods' erythromycin." Dr. Kelley pulled out a photograph of the label.

"On our label, it has a bar code. All of our labels have bar codes. Your label does not have a bar code. In fact, all of our records show that Mr. Woods has been prescribed erythromycin for the past few years for various ailments."

"Why would someone want to put a fake label on a bottle of pills?"

"I don't know. But all I can tell you is that we did not fill a prescription for penicillin for Mr. Woods and that label is not ours."

"Can I get a copy of the label and the other documents in Ralph Woods' file?"

"Sure."

Dr. Kelley made a copy of Ralph's file and gave it to me. I shook his hand and thanked him for his time.

I walked out of his office. It was clear that someone had switched the erythromycin pills and replaced them with penicillin. After Ralph had taken the penicillin, that same person replaced the pharmacy's erythromycin label with the fake penicillin label.

Had another firefighter killed Ralph Woods? Was it over the selection of a new chief? That just didn't seem enough for a motive. After all, it wasn't like San Jose never had an African-American chief before. There had to be some other motive.

I had an appointment with Chief Carpenter tomorrow afternoon. Carpenter surely could throw some light on why Ralph had been killed. After all, it had been his promotion and not Ralph's. I knew that once I interviewed him everything would make sense.

## Chapter Five

In the lobby of the Chief's office, there was a picture on the wall of him. He was an overweight, plain looking man in his mid-fifties.

I had been waiting in the lobby of Chief Carpenter's office for over an hour and he still hadn't come back from lunch. Hell, I had driven over 40 miles to see him and he didn't even have the courtesy to call his secretary and let her know that he would be late.

I stared at my watch. It was already 3:15. I was tired of waiting. If the Chief didn't want to help me on the case, I would get the information somewhere else.

I walked over to his secretary's desk and told her that I was going to leave. She turned to me and said, "We got a call that the Chief is in the hospital."

"Hospital? For what?"

"I don't know. They wouldn't release any information."

"Do you know which hospital?"

"I'm really not allowed to release that information."

"Look, it's public information."

"Okay, don't tell anyone, I told you this. He's at Simmons Hospital. It's off of Broadway."

"Thanks for the info."

* * *

Sitting behind the hospital's registration desk was a small shriveled up man who could not have weighed more than 120 pounds. His teeth were a brownish-yellow and lips were severely chapped.

I thought about extending my hand to him. But I decided not to, because I noticed that he had scabs on both of his hands.

I flashed a quick smile and said, "My name is Jasmine Myers and I am a private investigator. I am trying to find out the status of the Chief."

"The Chief? We don't have anyone with the last name Chief."

Not only was this man disgusting to look at, but he was also dense.

"No, I mean Richard Carpenter."

"Oh yeah, a Carpenter did come last night."

"For what?"

"I don't know. Look, I'm not a doctor."

"How is he doing?"

"Let me just pull the file up." He then punched a couple commands on the computer.

"What does it say?"

"It looks like he's not doing too good."

"Is he in serious condition?"

"No, a lot worse than that. He's dead."

"Dead? He can't be. I just spoke to him a few days ago."

"Look miss, the computer says he's dead so he must be."

"What did he die of?"

"I don't know. The body is at the City Morgue and the coroner will do an autopsy."

I was in shock. First Ralph and now the Chief. It could be just a coincidence. Maybe the Chief had died of a stroke or heart attack. He was overweight and he was in his fifties. There was a good chance, it was a heart attack.

I thanked the clerk for his information and headed to the coroner's office.

* * *

The coroner's deputy was Dr. Susan Milton who was a gapped tooth, overweight woman in her late thirties with a bad complexion. She had just finished performing an autopsy on the Chief and his body was draped with a white sheet.

I decided to play innocent and asked, "What do you think is the cause of the Chief's death? Heart attack?"

She rolled her eyes and looked at me like I didn't know what the hell I was talking about. She replied, "No, it wasn't a heart attack. It looks like a case of poisoning from a bad batch of mushrooms."

The Chief might have been a novice mushroom picker and had just picked the wrong type of mushrooms. That prospect was unlikely. Even though I suspected that my next question would piss off Dr. Milton, I decided to ask it anyway.

"Mushrooms? Did the Chief pick his own?"

Dr. Milton glared at me and said, "No, he didn't pick his own mushrooms. Anyone can tell that he's not a hiker. Just look at him."

I could tell from her tone, she definitely had a bad case of PMS. I replied, "I see what you're saying. But I never assume anything about anybody."

"And you call yourself a private investigator." She then rolled her eyes at me.

Damn, this woman or should I say bitch just insulted me. I wanted to tell her to go to hell, but instead I calmly said, "How did the Chief wind up eating these mushrooms?"

From the look on her face, she was surprised that I hadn't gone off on her. But what was the point? She was looking for a fight, but I wasn't interested.

As if she had just read my mind, Dr. Milton replied in a softer tone and said, "It's my time of the month and I am just going through some changes."

Now that's a lot better. The woman at least admitted she had PMS. Now, we can get down to business.

I said, "I know what you mean."

She cracked a smiled and said, "Thanks for understanding. But to answer your question about the Chief, he had two slices of pizza with mushrooms, pepperoni, and bell peppers at lunch. He apparently had purchased the pizza the night before from Real Pizza in San Jose and took two slices to work. We have a copy of the order slip. A slice of the pizza was left in his refrigerator at his home in San Jose. The San Jose Police tested the slices and the results show the mushrooms were definitely poisonous. And it matches what we found. The mushrooms are called Amanita phalloides."

"Amanita what?"

"Most folks call them Death Cap mushrooms. Death Caps are responsible for over 95% of the fatal mushroom poisonings in the world."

"How common are poisonings from Death Caps?"

"It used not be that common at all, but the last few years Death Caps have been springing up all over the place including people's yards."

"But how would the Death Caps wound up on the Chief's pizza?"

"A lot of times, they are mistaken for Volariella speciosa which is an edible cousin of the Death Cap. My guess is that the company that sold the mushrooms to the pizza parlor is going to be out of some serious money. They obviously didn't do a careful job of picking their mushrooms."

"What you're saying is that his family has a real good chance of collecting money from the mushroom company."

"That's it. You should go tell the family to go hire themselves a good lawyer."

"You bet I will. Thanks for your time."

There was no way that I believed that the mushrooms were placed on the pizza by accident. No, my gut told me the Chief had been murdered. But I had no motive and no evidence. And that was what I needed to find the killer.

* * *

I pulled up at Real Pizza, which was on the Eastside. I asked to see the owner. After a few minutes of waiting, Veronica Saunders a young woman in her late twenties with short dreadlocks greeted me.

I introduced myself and asked her if she was the owner.

"Part owner. My brothers Roger and Irvin are the other co-owners. We inherited the place from our parents after they were killed in a boating accident."

"I'm sorry about your parents."

"That's okay, it happened a long time ago."

"Anyway, have you heard about Oakland Fire Chief Carpenter dying from Death Cap mushrooms?"

"Yeah, it is very unfortunate. I was just interviewed by a reporter. Like I told the reporter, the mushrooms didn't come from here."

"I don't know how you can say that. The same mushrooms that killed the Chief were found on a slice of pizza in his refrigerator in one of your pizza boxes. The pizza was ordered from you. The coroner's office also has a copy of the order slip."

"That doesn't mean anything. Last night, we had over 100 orders for pizza. Of these 100 orders, 36 orders included orders for mushrooms as a topping. No one else has been hospitalized. No one else has complained about feeling ill. We haven't received one complaint. Let me show you our records."

Veronica took me to the computer in her office. She pulled up her file from last night's order and printed a copy. She was right 36 orders had mushrooms as a topping. I quickly scanned the addresses and noticed that Kristal had made one of the orders. Was it a coincidence? I hadn't heard anything from her since I last saw her. I hoped that she was alright.

"It is possible that the Chief's mushrooms were from a bad batch of mushrooms?"

"No, because all of the mushrooms came from the same batch. We had just purchased two pounds of mushrooms from Dinelli's yesterday morning. Like I said before, no one else became ill."

"Your pizza maker could have picked from a pile of bad mushrooms and put them on the pizza."

"No, it's not possible. Each day, we wash them and slice them and mix them up."

"How do you know that was done yesterday?"

"Because I did that myself. We were shorthanded last night so I personally made several of the orders. There is absolutely no way that the mushrooms came from here."

"How do you think the poisonous mushrooms wound up on the top of one your pizzas?"

"I don't know. That's for you and the cops to figure out."

"Do you think that the Chief was intentionally poisoned?"

"Again, I don't know. I'm not a cop. But once this airs on the news, it's going to hurt our business."

So I was right about both the Chief and Ralph having been murdered. I only hoped that Kristal was still alive.

* * *

When I got to Kristal's home, there were several television vans parked on the street. I knocked on the door and Marianne Britton answered it. She was a well-dressed handsome white woman in her late fifties.

I introduced myself.

Mayor Britton smiled and said, "You're Lt. Ron Myers' daughter. I've heard a lot of good things about you. I'm glad that Kristal hired you."

"What's your feeling about Ralph Woods' and Richard Carpenter's deaths?"

She looked at me directly in the eyes and said, "We don't have any proof at this point, but my feeling is that they both were murdered. I spoke with the Police Chief just a few minutes ago and he told me that this case would be assigned to the Homicide Unit and it would be given top priority."

Dad would be handling the case. That would be interesting. If I couldn't find anything, maybe the Homicide Unit would. Everything pointed to murder, but there was no suspect and no motive.

Kristal walked into the living room with an entourage of reporters. She led them to the front door and said good-bye to them.

She then sat down in the living room next to the Mayor.

I wasn't sure if I could trust the Mayor with the information that I had just discovered. I looked at Kristal and asked, "Do you mind if we meet alone in the study?"

Kristal replied, "Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of Mayor Britton."

My gut told me that there was something about the Mayor I couldn't trust. I asked again, "Kristal, I would really like to discuss my findings alone with you. It's always been my policy to meet with my clients alone."

Kristal became irate and said, "Mayor Britton is one of my dearest and closest friends. I trust her with my life. So just say what you have to say."

"Alright. First, with respect to your husband's death, I found out that your husband had obtained a prescription from the pharmacy for erothymicin and not penicillin on August 24. On the bottle, it says penicillin on the label but they have no record of a prescription for penicillin. Also, the pharmacist informed me that the label was not theirs, because their labels have bar codes. This practice was instituted in 1998 after they were sued for filling a wrong prescription."

Kristal's eyes widened and she said, "So someone switched labels and switched the pills in my husband's medicine bottle."

"Exactly."

"As for the Chief, he apparently ordered pizza the night before from Real Pizza. That night they filled 36 orders of pizza, which had mushrooms as a topping. All of the mushrooms came from the same batch. Yet, he was the only person who was poisoned."

Kristal replied, "I know about the pizza, because I ordered pizza from Real Pizza last night with my favorite- mushrooms, bell peppers, and pepperoni. Nonetheless, I am fine and well."

Kristal and the Chief had ordered the same identical pizza. It was probably just a coincidence. But then again, it might not be.

I said, "Anyway, they found a slice of the pizza at the Chief's home which contained the Death Cap mushrooms. Apparently, he had taken two slices to work for lunch and he later died. It's my theory that someone switched the mushrooms in the middle of the night at his home. He then took the bad slices to work and the rest is history."

Kristal smiled and said, "You're brilliant. Now, all we need to do is to find the killer."

"That's the hard part. At this point, we have no motive. There are no suspects. It doesn't make sense. Richard Carpenter is the number one candidate for Fire Chief and he then leaves for Oakland. Grady gets the job, so there is no reason for anyone to get upset. Your husband asked for an investigation which probably would only have shown that Carpenter got a better offer from Oakland."

"I know there has to be more than that. My husband would not have asked for an investigation if he didn't think there was anything going on."

"Who is the president of the Fire Union?"

"George Stone. He's been over the union for the past five years. He's part of the good old boys' network. The Black Firefighters don't have a lot of respect for him."

"I'll need to meet with him."

The Mayor said, "I can arrange a meeting with you and George. How about tomorrow late afternoon?"

"I'm not available. How about nine o'clock Monday morning?"

The Mayor replied, "We have all day conference on Monday with the union. Make it Tuesday and I'll set it up."

"That's fine." I turned to Kristal and said, "The last time I was here I didn't have a chance to copy the hard drive of the computer. Do you mind if I do it now?"

"Sure, that's no problem. Why don't I take you into the study."?

I said good-bye to the Mayor and thanked her for her time.

Kristal took me to the study and within an hour I had everything copied from the hard drive.

I then called my father.

"Dad, how are you doing?"

"I just got assigned that damn Carpenter and Woods case."

"Dad, I am at Kristal's home now. Can I come over in an hour?"

"Sure. Have you eaten dinner?"

"No."

"That's why you stay so slim. How about if I order out?"

"Sounds good."

"How about a pizza with bell peppers, pepperoni, and mushrooms?"

I started to laugh and said, "Dad, you are too cruel."

"I'm just kidding. Anyway, is Chinese okay? I'll order your favorite- almond chicken over rice with egg rolls."

"Sounds good to me. I'll see you in a bit."

I hung up the phone and said good-bye to Kristal.

* * *

I walked into the living room where Mama's picture hung over the fireplace. Mama had been petite and shapely; light-skinned with piercing dark eyes, and tightly curled dark brown hair. Her lips had been full and she had a regal African nose.

Dad was tall and lanky, brown-skinned with light eyes and balding. His lips were thin and his nose was angular. Dad was not a classically handsome man, but he was pleasant to look at.

Mama on the other hand was a beautiful woman and she knew it. She was disappointed that I had looked like a tomboy version of my father.

Mama wanted a daughter who looked like her, so she and Dad tried to have other children. After miscarrying three times, Mama and Dad stop trying.

Mama put her energies into trying to turn me into her little princess. She took me to dance lessons, but I failed. I was too tall, too skinny, and too clumsy.

She then decided that I should be in the school chorus. This turned out to be a disaster. When the chorus director heard me sing, he told me that I could be in the chorus so long as I didn't open my mouth.

Mama still hoped that I had some kind of talent so she enrolled me in an art class. I tried so hard but it was useless. I couldn't even color in the lines let alone cut a pattern straight.

Mama stopped trying to make me into something I wasn't. She finally let me decide what I wanted to do. And at the age of eight, I learned that I liked to explore things. You know find out why something happened and who made it happen. In other words, I liked to investigate things.

Mama encouraged me to investigate things and I became good at it. That's why I decided to become a private investigator.

I think my decision kind of inspired Mama to go back to school to study for her law degree. Folks had always treated Mama special, because of her looks. Back in her day, everybody told her that she looked like a movie star and she should go to Hollywood and try out for a part or two. In fact, one movie director approached Mama for a small part, but Mama turned him down because she was three months pregnant with me.

But nobody ever really told her that she was smart. Well, nobody except Dad and me. I think when she saw that I had an aptitude for learning, she decided that she had passed this trait onto me. Mama must have thought if her daughter was smart, she must be too.

At age of 37, Mama earned her law degree and passed the California Bar on her first try and went to work for the District Attorney's office.

In the courtroom, Mama was a brilliant performer. Four years later, she was trying murder cases. She was constantly in the paper.

And then, Mama discovered a small lump in her left breast. She ignored it, because she thought that it was nothing. A year later, the lump had spread to both of her breasts. They were removed, but it was too late. The cancer had spread throughout her body.

She continued to try to work but she got to the point where she was too weak to do anything. Mama refused to take chemo, because she felt it was a waste of time. She tried alternative health treatments and nothing worked. Dad and I tried to take care of her the best that we could, but we knew there was nothing we could do. On March 21, the afternoon before Mama's forty-third birthday, she died at home holding both our hands.

After Mama's death, we gathered all of her belongings and put everything in storage, which was two blocks from where she was buried at Maple Knolls Cemetery. Dad hasn't had the strength to take her things from storage so everything is still there.

Even after all these years, I still miss Mama. I wish she could be here.

Dad walked into the living room and hugged me. He asked, "Jazz, why are you looking so sad?"

"Dad, I was just thinking about her."

"I know what you mean."

"Dad, I don't want to think about the past. Let's talk about something positive."

"Jazz, have you found any leads in the case?"

"Not yet but give it time. Have you found anything?"

"Not a damn thing. I think that Ralph's and the Chief's deaths are coincidences and that Real Pizza and the pharmacy are covering up for their mistakes. And if they are not covering up, I think that Kristal killed Ralph and the Chief."

"Dad, if Ralph had only died that might make sense. That happens all the time in domestic violence cases. But why would Kristal kill the Chief? What for?"

"Hell, if I know. It might be some sort of love triangle. Who knows? But Jazz, think about this. Kristal ordered the same pizza as the Chief. My guess is that she switched pizzas with the Chief and laced his pizza with Death Cap mushrooms."

"What about Ralph's death?"

"She knew that Ralph was allergic to penicillin and that taking penicillin could kill him. All that she had do was to switch his pills."

"Then Dad why would she come to me? Everyone thought Ralph's death was an accident."

"Just in case, someone started pointing fingers at her. Jazz, it happens all the time. Remember the O. J. case?"

"Dad, he was found innocent."

"Come on, Jasmine look at the facts of that case. Don't do what the rest our community did and defend him simply, because of the color of his skin."

"Dad, I see your point. But you know, I don't think that Kristal killed Ralph and the Chief. You know that she's pregnant with Ralph's baby."

"So that's the bullshit she told you."

"You mean it's not true?"

"Who knows and who cares? If she's pregnant, the baby may not be Ralph's. It could be the Chief's or someone else's. Anyway, that still doesn't make her innocent. If Kristal didn't kill them, who did?"

"I don't know, but I will find out."

## Chapter Six

It was Friday afternoon. It was five minutes to four. Keith should be here in the next five minutes. But knowing Keith, he would be late. In all of the years that I have known him, Keith has rarely been on time for any of our dates.

There was regular time, C.P. time, and Keith time. If it wasn't job related or community related Keith had a habit of being an hour or more late. Personal relationships took a back seat to everything. Hell, on our wedding day, he was two hours late. Which at that point, any other woman would have called the marriage off. But I was a fool and I married him anyway.

The doorbell rang. To my surprise, Keith was exactly on time. His marriage to Loretta had done him some good after all.

I walked Keith into my office and noticed that he had gained some weight. Maybe he was just sympathizing with Loretta's pregnancy.

Keith was still handsome, but he looked like he needed to sleep for at least a week. I don't know what was happening at the college. But whatever it was, it hadn't been good to him.

I led Keith into my office and sat down.

"Keith, have you heard about Richard Carpenter's death?"

"Yeah, first Ralph and now Richard."

"Well, I believe that they were both murdered. I don't know who did it or why they did it. Richard Carpenter was to be selected as the City's next fire chief and he left for Oakland. Ralph Woods asked that his departure be investigated and now they're both dead. What's the scuttlebutt downtown?"

"The Mayor is saying it's just a coincidence. Both died from poisonings, but they were accidents. All of the politicians are saying the same thing."

The Mayor had lied earlier in front of Kristal. I knew that she couldn't be trusted.

"What about the Black Firefighters?"

"They think it's murder, but they have no proof."

"Has anyone found a motive?"

"You know all of the problems that the Fire Department has had the last few years. Remember the white firefighter who walked for killing Joshua Gardner who was the vice president of the African-American Coalition. He claimed it was self-defense and the jury, which was all white except for two Latinos and one Asian, bought it. The Fire Department has never been the same. The Black Firefighters distrust everyone."

"What does this have to do with the killing of Ralph and the Chief?"

"A disgruntled white firefighter may have killed them, because he thought that Richard never should have been considered as Fire Chief."

"How many white firefighters are there in the Department?"

"Five hundred. And there are about fifty black firefighters."

Five hundred white firefighters. Hell that could be anyone.

"Keith, so what's your opinion on this case?"

"My honest opinion is that it's a coincidence. There is no motive. When Richard left, Grady became the new Chief. So the white firefighters got what they wanted. So what if Ralph had demanded an investigation. It just would have shown that Richard got a better offer from Oakland. The department just needs time to heal."

"Keith, you are in agreement with the Mayor."

"Look, Jazz, I am no fan of the Mayor. She used be a Republican until she switched parties so that she could win the mayor's race. She can't be trusted and she is no friend of black people."

"But Kristal supports her."

"Kristal will learn. Kristal is just too goddamn blind at times."

"So, you are saying that there is no way that Kristal's husband was murdered."

"I know Kristal from working on projects with her. Kristal is really into the media. If it will get her name on the six o'clock news, she'll do it."

"I don't know about that. I really trust her instincts on this and I feel that she does have a case."

"If I were you, I'd stay away from her. She doesn't know how to treat people, and in the end, you'll only get hurt."

"I know about her reputation. And if you didn't think I could handle her, why did you refer her to me?"

"I never referred her to you. She must be confused. When she came to me about Ralph, I told her that I thought it was just a tragic accident and she should sue the doctor and collect what was due to her."

Kristal lied about Keith referring the case to me. But that didn't mean that she didn't have a case.

"I guess that would be the easiest thing that she could do with her being pregnant."

"Kristal's pregnant?"

"She's about eight weeks. Seems like you and her have something in common."

"What are you talking about?"

"Keith, I heard that Loretta is pregnant. Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"Keith, it's almost five now. I have to close this meeting, because I have an appointment at six."

"With who? Are you seeing someone?"

"That is none of your business."

"I really miss you."

"Keith, you have Loretta and now you're going to get the baby that you never got from me."

"Jazz, you're upset with Loretta being pregnant?"

I stared at him and didn't answer. Instead, I asked, "Keith, what do you want from me?"

"Jazz, I know I said this before; but I am going to say it again, I want you back."

"Keith, it's too late to mend our relationship. I'm not interested."

"Why don't you think about it?"

"No, Keith."

Keith looked at me directly in the eyes, gently stroked my face and said, "I will always love you."

My heart almost melted when I heard him say that. I then reminded myself of the late nights waiting up for him and the bad sex. I knew that I could not go back because there was nothing to go back to.

"Keith, I need to leave."

I removed his hand from my face and escorted him out of my office.

## Chapter Seven

When I met the Firefighters Union President George Stone, I was struck by his plainness. He was a short round white man in his mid-forties with a deeply receding hairline. His teeth were gapped and his eyes were a dull brown. He was the kind of man whom you would never look at twice. Yet, despite his physical unattractiveness, there was something about him that made you feel that you could trust him. He had a wholesome aura about him. He was the all-American boy without the all-American boy looks.

He led me into a small cluttered office. On his desk, there was a photograph of an African-American woman who was pretty and round. I glanced at his left hand and saw a wedding band.

I asked, "What was the reaction of the white firefighters to the deaths of Chief Carpenter and Ralph Woods?"

George looked at me carefully and asked, "Do you really want to know the truth?"

"Look, I've been a private investigator for years. I have seen and heard everything. And I do mean everything."

George cleared his throat and said, "Some of them don't trust me, because you know my wife is black. But I'm still privileged to hear things."

"I understand where you're coming from."

"Anyway, the word is that Ralph was a troublemaker and his loss was seen as a blessing."

"Really. A troublemaker in what way?"

"First, there was his calling for the investigation of the selection of the Chief. That pissed off a lot of people. Ralph had this tendency to call people racists when he didn't get his way."

"Is there something wrong with that?"

"These days calling a white person a racist is akin to calling him a child molester."

"And what's your feeling on that?"

"The truth is a lot folks have problems with black people. Call it prejudice, ignorance, or just plain stupidity. But still no one wants to admit to that publicly."

"I hear what you're saying. So how did they feel about Chief Carpenter?"

"There were a number of people who were upset when he went up against Grady. When he dropped out of the race, people said he was running back to Oakland to his people, because the only real man who could run the department was one of us."

"Who said that?"

"That's just me paraphrasing of what was said."

"What actually was said?"

"You're a lady. So really I don't feel comfortable repeating those things."

"Like I said before, I have heard everything."

"Alright. Excuse my language. The real deal was that Carpenter was called the n-word and he couldn't cope with the big boys and he was just a pussy."

"Who said that?"

"Look, I can't reveal that."

"Why not?"

"I'll lose credibility."

"Two men are dead and you are worrying about losing credibility. Gimme a break."

"Alright, put it this way, the man who said it works at Station 46."

Damn, that was the same station where Ralph worked.

"Do you think this guy killed Ralph and the Chief?"

"No, I don't. He's a redneck, a racist, but a murderer, I don't think so. He ain't got the balls to do that."

"What is his name?"

"I've given you the station number."

"There's over twenty people who work there. Can't you do better?"

"No. You're the detective. You figure it out."

I looked him directly in the eyes and said, "Why are you protecting him? And you of all people. For God's sake, you're married to a black woman."

"Don't pull that shit on me."

"So, you're still hung up on protecting your white brothers."

"Okay, his first name is Dan and there are only two Dans at Station 46 and one is black."

I smiled at him and said, "Thanks for the information. Before you ask, no I won't tell anyone that I got it from you."

"Thanks. But the truth is he isn't the one."

"Then who is the murderer?"

"I have no idea. That's your job to find out."

* * *

When I arrived at Station 46, I knocked on the door. I was greeted by a tall Latino man who was in his early thirties and well-muscled. He would have been handsome if his face wasn't pock marked.

I said, "I'm looking for Dan."

"Dan Robinson is in. Is that the one you're looking for?"

"Yeah." Shit, and if he wasn't the right one, I could still pump him for information about the racist Dan.

"Come on in. He's studying in the living room. What's your name?"

"Jasmine Myers. And yours?"

"Carlos."

Carlos smiled at me like I was an old friend and took me into the living room.

"Dan, your friend Jasmine is here to see you."

Dan was in his early thirties of average height and he was about thirty pounds overweight. He looked downright bland and sexless. From his looks, he was the definition of a wimp. I couldn't believe that this man was a firefighter.

I extended my hand to Dan and said, "Mind if we talk in private?"

Dan looked like he was afraid of me.

Carlos winked and said, "In all these years, no woman has ever come by for you. This must be important. Go on and talk to her. You can use the Captain's office."

If Dan had been light-skinned, you could have seen his blush. Instead, he looked at Carlos sheepishly and said, "Okay. Let's go into the Captain's office."

We went into the office and shut the door.

"My name is Jasmine Myers and I am investigating the deaths of Ralph Woods and Richard Carpenter."

Dan's eyes glazed over and he looked at me like I had hit him hard in the mouth. His lips quivered and he said, "I don't know anything about their deaths."

I decided to bullshit with him and said, "Well, your name came up."

"My name? That can't be right."

"A source told me that a firefighter named Dan worked at Station 46 and he wasn't exactly heartbroken about the Chief's death."

"You mean Dan Fulton. I'm Dan Robinson. He's a white guy who works here. He's an interesting person to work with."

"What do you mean?"

"He's just different. He won't shower at the station, because he's kind of a neat freak. He's afraid of catching germs."

"And he's a firefighter?"

"We all have to earn a living. Heck, if I had my way, I wouldn't be here."

"Oh yeah, what would you be doing?"

"Probably working as a kindergarten teacher."

"Why aren't you doing that?"

"Because my father Phillip Robinson was the first African-American firefighter in San Jose and I was his only son. I wanted to teach little kids, but my father said a kindergarten teacher was a sissy's job. He told me that my calling was to be a firefighter and there was nothing else I could do."

I said quietly, "You know Dan, you don't have to live for your father. You're a grown man and you can do whatever you want you want to do."

"Well, you don't know my father. Anyway, why are we talking about him?"

"Okay, let's change the subject. Do you know when Dan will be in?"

"He's got the next couple days off. He'll be in on Thursday."

Two days was way too long to wait. "Do you have his address?"

"We're not supposed to give out people's addresses."

I squeezed Dan's hand and looked him directly into his eyes, "This is really important. I think you're really a nice guy. Can't you make an exception?"

Dan's eyes lit up and he smiled. He said, "You really think so. Okay, just this once. But please, don't tell anybody."

Jesus Christ. This man probably has never even gone on a date in his life. I didn't want to give him the wrong impression, so I said, "As a private investigator, I never reveal my sources of confidential information."

Dan then punched in a couple of commands on the computer and pulled up the address. He wrote it down on a scrap piece of paper.

He said, "He lives in Gilroy. Here's his address."

Dan then handed me a wadded piece of paper.

"Thanks Dan, I really appreciate your help."

Dan grinned at me and said, "If you need anything else, let me know."

I could tell from his eyes that he was interested in me. The last thing I needed to deal was the Pillsbury Doughboy's little brother looking for his first girlfriend. I'm sorry but I am not into training anyone on the art of love.

I knew that my next statement would hurt him, but I said it anyway.

"Sure, if anything comes up, you will be contacted by one of my assistants."

Dan's face fell and he quietly said, "Okay."

Then I shook his hand good-bye with a distant handshake. Again, I didn't want to lead him on.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, I arrived at Dan Fulton's house. To my surprise, three firefighters were hovering outside of Dan's home. I went up to them and said, "My name is Jasmine Myers and I am a private investigator."

A tall man in his late forties with graying hair and a slight paunch approached me and said, "God, the word spreads fast."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Dan was just found dead in his bathroom."

Dan was dead? What the hell was happening? First Ralph, the Chief, and now Dan. None of it made any sense.

"He died of the inhalation of ammonia and bleach. Apparently, the bathroom door jammed when he was cleaning it, and he passed out and died."

I asked, "Are you calling it an accident?"

"Not with the deaths of Ralph Wood and Richard Carpenter. Someone deliberately locked Dan in the bathroom."

"Any proof?"

"None at this time, but the police are on their way and believe me, this place will be combed for everything."

Three dead firefighters. Kristal's husband, the Chief, and Dan. Had Kristal killed them? Why would she kill Dan? Unless, they had some sort of relationship. But the odds of her having relationship with him were highly unlikely. After all, Dan was a known racist.

No, she couldn't have killed Dan. But there were no other clues.

Maybe Kristal had killed Ralph and someone else had killed the Chief and Dan. But that scenario didn't make sense either.

And if Kristal had killed Ralph and the Chief, why had she come to me? After all, everyone thought both their deaths were accidents. And if she had kept quiet, no one would have questioned their deaths. Unless Kristal was psychotic, her hiring me didn't make sense.

Right now, I had no clue who the murderer was. I just needed something to tip me in the murderer's direction and not a goddamn thing had come up.

By the time, I got back to my office; my answering machine was full of messages from five different television and radio stations. I also had a message from Keith.

I decided that I did not want to deal with the media. I certainly couldn't report that Kristal was on my list of suspects. Or better yet, there was no other evidence pointing to anyone else. No, my investigation was incomplete and there was no point in talking to anyone.

I then called Keith. I told him about Dan Fulton's death.

"Jazz, I heard about it."

"So what do you make of it?"

"Everyone is pointing their fingers to Kristal," Keith replied. "The word on the grapevine is that she killed them all. She's been taken into questioning."

"Is there evidence?" "I asked.

"None, at this point. But a search warrant has been issued to search her place."

"That's a waste of time. There's nothing in it."

"The feds also have been called in. It's really intense."

"So, do you think Kristal killed them?" I asked.

"You know Kristal is capable a lot of things. But murder, that's something she wouldn't do." Keith replied firmly.

"Why do you think that?" I asked.

"A lot of people don't like Kristal because of her attitude. A lot of folks think that she is uppity. But I know Kristal and she has a good heart. She's not the murdering type." Keith replied.

"Keith, there is no one type of murderer."

"Jazz, I know that she didn't kill them and she couldn't have killed them."

"Keith, if she didn't kill them, then who did?"

"I don't know Jazz. But I know that you'll find out."

"Okay, I'll do my best." I then hung up the phone.

Why was Keith defending Kristal, when he had told me that she was bad news? Was it out of friendship? Perhaps, he knew something that I didn't.

The phone rang. It was Kristal and she was crying. "Jasmine, they have me downtown and they're trying to say that I killed them. I loved Ralph and there absolutely is no way that I would ever kill him. He was my life. And the Chief and I were friends. I never even met Dan Fulton. They issued a search warrant for my home. Believe me, I am innocent."

"Kristal, I believe you. But I haven't found any evidence pointing to anyone else. Is there anyone who you can think of who had a motive to kill them?"

"I can't think of anyone. Jasmine, I need your help."

"You need to hire a good criminal defense attorney as soon as possible."

"I have some people working on that. They're trying to raise funds to hire James Colby."

"The James Colby?" James Colby was the best criminal defense attorney in Santa Clara County. He had gotten off the white firefighter who had been charged with killing the vice president of the African-American Coalition and won an acquittal for a San Jose State professor who was charged with killing his wife. He also had been involved with other high-profile cases. If anyone could save Kristal, it was James Colby. Of course, he had his enemies. The African-American Coalition had called him a traitor to his race when he represented the white firefighter. Many African-American organizations had picketed his office and called for his resignation as a member of the local Black Lawyers Association.

"Yes, that's him."

"Kristal, I'll see what I can do to find out who the real murderer is."

"Thanks, Jasmine."

I hung up the phone and called Sheila.

"Sheila, what's going on downtown?"

"You probably heard that they are trying to nail Kristal. More appropriately, I should say your father is trying to nail her."

"Yeah, I heard the news."

"People in the community think that she is being framed and the real culprit is within the fire department. No one is even investigating that possibility."

"I'm investigating it. Who do you think killed them?"

"I don't know. But I know it wasn't Kristal."

"How do you know that?"

"It's a gut feeling."

"Is it because Kristal is African-American and a community leader?"

"Come on Jazz, you know me better than that. I'm not coming to Kristal's defense simply because she's black."

"Sorry, Sheila. I just don't have any leads. I'm hitting a blank wall. If you find out anything, let me know."

"Sure thing. Anyway, I need to get back to work."

"I'll talk to you later."

Both Keith and Sheila had defended Kristal. Kristal also had proclaimed her innocence, but that didn't mean anything. What motivation did she have to kill the three victims? Unless the search warrant came up with evidence, I sincerely doubted that Kristal had killed them.

But this case was becoming a waste of my time. I wasn't going anywhere. Every time, I tried to find out information from someone with answers that person was killed.

I never told anyone that I was going to interview the Chief. That's not true. His secretary had answered the phone and I had identified myself. After I spoke with him, he probably told her about his meeting with me. God knows how many people she told.

Also, prior to going to Dan Fulton's home, I asked firefighter Dan Robinson for his address. But I had gotten to Fulton's home within 45 minutes. Even if Robinson had leaked the information, it's unlikely that anyone could have acted on it in such a short period of time.

Wait a second, I also asked George Stone about Dan Fulton. He had given me information about where Dan worked. Perhaps, he leaked the information. That would have bought the killer at least an hour and half to act.

Besides the three victims being firefighters, I didn't see any link. There had to be something else. Was it Kristal? I didn't think so. What did firefighters do together besides saving lives and putting out fires? There had to be a deeper connection.

* * *

When I got to Chief Carpenter's office, I greeted the secretary.

"Hi, we met the last time I was here."

She looked down at her name plate Lydia Ramirez and mumbled, "Yeah, I remember we met on the day of the Chief's death."

"Lydia, I am really sorry."

"His death really hurts a lot. I have known the Chief for a long time. It has been hard on everyone."

A long time. He just started working in Oakland. She must have known him from San Jose.

I paused and slowly asked, "So you used to work with the Chief in San Jose."

"Yeah, I was his executive secretary in San Jose for eight years. When he got the job here, he asked me to follow him. He was such a wonderful boss. So of course, I followed him."

I looked into Lydia eyes and said, "Do you remember when I called a few days ago and I identified myself as being a private investigator."

"Yes, I forwarded your call to the Chief."

"Lydia, I need to know whether you told anyone that I had called him."

Her eyes looked down at her name plate. Lydia then flashed her eyes at me and said, "No, all of his calls are confidential."

"I need to know the truth. Who did you tell that I called?"

"I told you no one. Don't you understand trust? Why are you asking these questions?"

"Look, within forty-eight hours of my call, the Chief was murdered. I believe that the murderer wanted to kill the Chief before I had a chance to see him."

"Ms. Myers, I told you that I didn't tell anyone. And besides, I understand that the suspected murderer Kristal Woods is currently being questioned by the police. I don't understand why you are interrogating me."

"Lydia, do you think Kristal Woods killed the Chief, her husband, and Dan Fulton?"

"I have no idea. But hell, anyone is capable of murder."

"Why would she kill them?"

"I have no idea."

"Was Kristal involved with the Chief?"

"Absolutely not."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I know."

"Don't give me some b.s. answer that you know."

"I have known the Chief for eight years and it is impossible for him to have been involved with Kristal."

"Why? She's a very attractive woman. And you're not with the Chief twenty-four hours a day. Hell, you never know what goes on behind closed doors."

"Ms. Myers, I'm not only the Chief's secretary, but I am also his confidant and friend. Very few people knew the Chief. I can say unequivocally that he was not involved with Kristal."

My eyes narrowed and looked at her directly in the face.

I said, "Tell me, how do you know?"

"Ms. Myers, I know, because quite frankly the Chief was gay."

"I take it that he was in the closet."

"Yes, the Chief was discreet about his sexual orientation. He was very careful never to be seen in public with his male companions. In fact, when asked about who he was dating, he would fabricate some woman's name. At one time, there was even a rumor that he and I were dating."

"I don't understand why he would hide his sexual orientation. This is the Bay Area not Orange County."

"Come on, Ms. Myers you can't be that naïve. The Chief was not in San Francisco. He was in San Jose. Don't you remember the campaign against the Domestic Partners Registry? You know that it was voted down by a landslide. And you must know how homophobic the African-American community is. So, the Chief wasn't about to come out here in Oakland."

"Okay, I see your point. Do you know anyone who had a motive to kill the Chief?"

"I told you before, that I have no idea."

"What about an ex-lover?"

"The Chief's companion of five years just died of AIDS a few months ago. He was devastated by his loss."

"Did the Chief have AIDS?"

Lydia's eyes narrowed. "I don't know what that has do with anything, but no he was HIV negative."

"Did people know about his companion?"

"Only a handful people knew about him."

"Thank you for your time."

"Sure. I would like you to keep this information in confidence out of respect for the Chief."

"Yes, I will."

The Chief was gay. Did this fact have anything to do with the case? What was his connection to Kristal besides her being Ralph's wife? Why would anyone want to murder him? Kristal couldn't have murdered him. She had no motive unless there was something else.

## Chapter Eight

There was a message on my answering machine from my father. He said, "We just booked Kristal. If you have any questions, call me."

I dialed his number and said, "Dad, I got your message."

"Your client has some explaining to do. We found a bottle of penicillin in her desk at her house and it's identical to the penicillin that killed Ralph."

"Dad, that doesn't mean anything. Did you ask Kristal what the penicillin was used for?"

"She said she had a bladder infection a few months ago."

"Sounds reasonable to me."

"Jasmine, you are not hearing me. I said we found the penicillin in her desk. Why would she keep it in her desk? People keep medicine in the medicine cabinet."

"Dad, that is such flimsy evidence. Do you have any other evidence?"

"We also found bleach and ammonia in her kitchen cabinet. We're in the process of testing it to see if it's the same kind that killed Dan Fulton."

"Dad, I can't believe you. Probably everyone in San Jose has bleach and ammonia."

"Jazz, I don't know about that. Anyway, the clincher is that she had ordered the same pizza from Real Pizza so she could switch pizzas with the Chief and lace it with Death Cap mushrooms."

"Dad, how would Kristal gain access to the Chief's house?"

"Look, we are currently combing the Chief's house for evidence. Who knows how she got in, but I believe she did it."

"Anything else?"

"Jazz, I forgot to tell you one very important fact. When we went into her bedroom, we found a book that was checked out from the San Jose library two weeks prior to the Chief's death."

"So, she checked out a book. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Darling daughter, the title of this book is 'The Art of Picking Mushrooms.'"

Jesus Christ! What the hell was Kristal doing with this book? I knew that I needed to talk to her now to find out what was going on.

I swallowed hard and said, "So what. Dad, what is the motive? It doesn't make sense that Kristal would go to the police if she were the murderer."

"Jazz, you know that Ralph was a city employee."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"There's the city's life insurance policy."

"Dad, so what if there's life insurance. Again, why would Kristal go to the police? All she would have to do is file a claim with the city."

"Jazz, I guess you haven't been following the news."

"On what?"

"Less than a month ago, there was a new life insurance policy negotiated for all of the city's public safety officers."

"I don't see how that is relevant."

"Jazz, let me finish. Under the new life insurance policy, the beneficiary of a public safety officer who is killed on the job gets $250,000. This is five times the amount that a beneficiary would normally receive."

"Dad, I still don't think that Kristal would kill for money."

"Oh yes you would, when you're in as much credit card debt as Kristal is."

"Dad, Kristal and Ralph just bought a house so her debt can't be that bad."

"Jazz, you should have checked with the County Recorder's office. The house is only in Ralph's name. Kristal's credit is so bad that she can't even get a loan for a pair of sneakers."

"How much debt is she in?"

"At least 35 grand."

Shit, the check she gave me better not bounce.

"If Kristal were in so much debt, she could just file for bankruptcy."

"No, she couldn't do that."

"Why? Has she filed before?"

"No, nothing like that. Kristal is really into public image. She would be too embarrassed that someone might find out."

"You're saying that she would kill her husband for money. I'm sure that being labeled a murderer will do her public image a lot of good."

"She didn't expect to be caught."

"If Kristal killed her husband for money, why did she kill the others?"

"As a part of her plot to mislead the police."

"How?"

"Daughter, I can't believe you can't see it. Kristal killed her husband to collect the insurance money. She then murdered the Chief and Dan Fulton to make it look like there was a killer who was out to kill firefighters. Her plan was that the murders would remain unsolved and she would collect the life insurance money."

"Dad, I still don't believe she did it."

"Jazz, stop being naïve. I suggest that you start preparing your client."

"For what?"

"The death penalty."

Dad's words struck me like he had punched me in the stomach. I was too dumbfounded to say anything for a few seconds. I mumbled good-by and hung up the phone.

I felt sick to my stomach and what I needed to calm my nerves was a shot of whiskey. This case was full of so many holes and it would soothe my pain. But the last thing, I needed was to go on a drinking binge. No, as much as I wanted a drink, I just couldn't go off and lose everything. I needed to focus on the case and instead of a one-night stand of drinking.

At first glance, the life insurance policy looked like it could be a motive. But Ralph must have married Kristal knowing her credit problems. Hell, they had been married for over three years and suddenly Kristal is going to kill him so she could be debt free. I don't think so.

Of course, there was the possibility that Ralph was planning to leave Kristal for another woman. In that case, Kristal would have a motive to kill him. But that scenario didn't make sense with the new baby and the house.

No, nothing was adding up.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, I was at Elmwood Women's Jail in a closet sized interview room. The guard brought out Kristal who was dressed in a shapeless orange jumpsuit. Her eyes were bloodshot and her breath smelled of stale vomit. Her hair was thrown haphazardly in a loose ponytail.

"Jasmine, they took me in a couple hours ago. I have a bad case of morning sickness and I can't stop crying. Why is your father doing this to me?"

"Kristal, you know that they found the penicillin, the ammonia and bleach and the book on picking mushrooms. They feel they have a solid case."

"That's not evidence. It's bullshit. They don't have anything. Penicillin that I took for a bladder infection. Ammonia and bleach, come on that does not make me a murderer."

"What about the book Kristal?"

"So, I have an interest in picking mushrooms. I have been picking mushrooms for years."

"Goddamn it, Kristal that is not going to help your case."

"Look, it's just a coincidence that the Chief died from Death Cap mushrooms."

"Right and it's just a coincidence that you know the difference between Death Cap mushrooms and the non-lethal similar type of mushroom?"

"I did not kill him."

"Why did you order the same pizza as the Chief on the night of his death?"

"For the past five years, I have ordered mushroom, bell pepper, and pepperoni pizza from Real Pizza on a regular basis. I can't help it that the Chief and I have the same tastes."

"Did you have a relationship with the Chief?"

"Absolutely not."

"Are you sure?"

"The Chief was gay." Kristal replied.

"How do you know that?"

"Because he confided in me and Ralph. Besides us and his secretary, no one else knows. The Chief was really discreet, because he was afraid of the backlash. You know how gays aren't tolerated in the department."

"What about you and Dan Fulton?"

"Please, gimme a break. That racist punk. You have to be kidding."

I felt a sigh of relief. At least, Kristal's statement was consistent with George Stone's assessment of Dan Fulton.

"Kristal, do you have credit problems?"

"Who doesn't?"

"I'm not talking about being a few thousand dollars in debt. You're over $35,000 in debt."

"I'm making payments."

"Isn't it true that your credit is bad?"

"Jasmine, I don't know why you are asking me these questions. It's not like my credit history is a secret."

"Kristal, didn't you kill your husband to get out of credit card debt?"

"That is absolutely ludicrous!"

"With $250,000, you'd be debt free with over $200,000 in your pocket."

"Look, I have done a lot of things that I am not proud of. But I would never kill my husband. Not over money and not for any other reason."

"What about over another woman?"

"No way. I would leave him first. Killing him would be stupid and barbaric."

"Isn't it true, that Ralph was going to leave you?"

"Absolutely not."

"And if he was, what would you do?"

"Beg for him to come back."

"And if he didn't, you would kill him, right?"

"Absolutely not. I am not a murderer. I did not kill my husband or anyone else."

"Isn't it true, that you killed the Chief and Dan Fulton to cover up your murder of Ralph?"

"Absolutely not. Jasmine, I don't know what your problem is. I hired you to find Ralph's murderer and now you're turning on me."

"Kristal, if you didn't kill them, who did?"

"Jasmine, if I knew my ass wouldn't be sitting here in jail. God knows, being eight weeks pregnant, jail is the last place that I want to be."

"Kristal, I'm on your side. But right now, I have no leads and the more I dig the more evidence points to you."

"Jasmine, I did not kill them. I am not a violent person. I am not a greedy person. Please believe me. You are my only hope."

"Do you have a lawyer?"

"Yes. James Colby. About an hour ago, I saw him. He's trying to get me out on bail tomorrow. But the word is that the D. A. is going to ask that the judge deny my request."

"Who's the prosecuting attorney?"

"Sandra Morales." Kristal replied.

Sandra Morales was known as the hanging D.A. She had tried at least twenty death penalty cases and had won all of them except one. That case was against James Colby a few years ago. But unlike Kristal, his client had been a wealthy high-tech guru.

"Kristal, I'll see you in court tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, Jasmine. I know things look bad, but I am innocent."

At that point, I didn't know what to believe. I mumbled good-bye and left the jail.

* * *

When I got back to my office, there was a woman who wore shoulder length braids. She had the body of a dancer and her legs were toned from years of working out. Her face was perfectly made up and from a distance she looked like she was in her thirties. But up close, I could tell that she had to be closer to her late forties. She wore a short turquoise dress that accented her legs. She was a woman who had aged well and she was not afraid to flaunt it.

She extended her hand and said, "Good afternoon, my name is Patrice Collins and I am the President of the African-American Coalition. I am here to talk you about Kristal Woods."

"Pleased to meet you. Please come in."

She followed me and sat down.

She said, "We are very concerned about Kristal. We just want to make sure that everything will be fine."

"The truth is that everything is not okay. Everything is pointing to Kristal as the murderer."

"Kristal is innocent. I am Kristal's god's sister. She is a good and honorable person."

"So, you must be close to her family."

"Her family. Well, not really." Patrice replied.

"Where are they?" I asked.

"Like any other families, they have problems."

"Like what?"

"Kristal's mother is not well."

"Does she have cancer or something like that?"

"No, it's not cancer."

"What is it?"

"Kristal's mother has a nervous condition. She has been in and out of mental hospitals for years. She's currently a patient at the San Jose State Mental Hospital for her condition."

"And what about her father?"

"Her father has problems too."

"Is he a patient at the hospital, too?"

"No, nothing like that. He's somewhere else."

"Where?"

"He's at San Quentin for murder. He killed someone years ago who was harassing Kristal's mother. It was all such a terrible misunderstanding."

Kristal's mother is in the nut house and her father is in the pen for killing some guy. Damn, why couldn't Kristal come from a normal family?

"I'm sorry to hear about Kristal's parents."

"Don't be. We all come from dysfunctional families."

I certainly didn't. My parents were normal. And not everyone had such messed-up parents. It was beyond me, how she could play off Kristal's family like it was nothing.

I mumbled, "Yeah, some are worse than others. So who raised Kristal?"

She smiled and said, "I did. I took her in when she was only eleven years old and she has changed. She used to be really heavy and shy when she was in high school. But later, she changed in college. She graduated cum laude from San Jose State with a bachelor's degree in history. She went on to get her teaching credential. She later won teacher of the year award not only in her district but also at the state level. Kristal is a very accomplished young woman."

"Yeah, so I hear. So what can I do for you?"

"You know we've hired James Colby."

"I thought that the African-American Coalition was upset with him."

"That's in the past. James is the best damn attorney in this county and with your help, Kristal will be found innocent. What I need you to do is to work with him."

"Patrice, I don't have a problem working with him. But I need to be honest with you and tell you that unless I find hardcore evidence that exonerates Kristal, she is not going to win her case."

"Young lady, you need to stop being so pessimistic. You will get her off. I just know you will."

"Do you know anyone who wanted to kill Ralph?"

"All those damn racists in the Fire Department."

"Like who?"

"I don't know. That's what you need to find out."

"Patrice, if a racist killed Ralph, why would a racist kill Dan Fulton?"

Patrice looked at me and was silent for a few seconds. She said, "I don't know why they killed Dan Fulton. Maybe he sympathized with Ralph."

"Patrice, that is not possible. Dan was known as a racist. There is no way that Dan would associate with Ralph or anyone African-American for that matter."

Patrice smiled and said, "Kristal was right in picking you. I am glad that you did your homework on Dan. But the bottom line is that there are two dead black men and there is no way Kristal would kill them. It's not in her nature."

It's not in her nature. What the hell was this woman talking about? Kristal's father was sitting up in prison for killing a man.

I said, "What was the race of the man Kristal's father killed?"

"Which one?"

Jesus Christ, there was more than one.

"I thought you said that he was in prison for killing a man who harassed Kristal's mother."

Patrice answered, "Initially, Joe was sentenced to ten years in prison for manslaughter, because he killed a brother who harassed Kristal's mother. While Joe was in the pen, he tried to stop a fight between a couple of inmates and Joe got in the middle and a white prison guard was stabbed to death. Joe was innocent, but they tacked on a life sentence without parole. He's never getting out."

Kristal's father was an equal opportunity killer. That was just dandy. Just like Kristal might be. I hoped that the media didn't get hold of this information.

I asked, "Does Kristal have any brothers or sisters?"

Patrice replied, "No, her mother and father stopped just at one."

Thank God, because who knows how they would have turned out. Probably, there would have been a family portrait at San Quentin.

"I am an only child too. I guess Kristal and I have a little bit in common."

"No, young lady, you and Kristal have a lot in common. You just don't know it."

"Like what?"

"I am not going to waste my time talking about it. I'm just saying you need to help her. It doesn't matter that Kristal's family has problems. If I told you about my family, you would think that Kristal's mother and father were angels. I know that Kristal did not kill anybody. She is like a sister to me. And you will help her. Period."

"Patrice, like I said before. I will do my best. I just need evidence."

"Young lady, you will get what you need. It may take some time, but you will get it."

Patrice then shook my hand and left.

Who was this Patrice Collins and how could she be so sure of Kristal? Given Kristal's family background, any reasonable person would conclude that Kristal was bred to be a killer and she was capable of killing.

And so what if she had raised Kristal? How many grandmothers and mothers pled that their child was innocent when the evidence showed otherwise?

But there was something different about Patrice Collins. It bothered me that she said Kristal and I had a lot in common. What did she mean by that? Of course, she could be just talking shit and was just trying to get me to do something for Kristal.

That had to be it. After all, she was the President of the African-American Coalition. She was trained in the art of persuasion and she knew how to get what she wanted. So I shouldn't pay attention to any personal comments directed at me.

Like I told her, what I needed was evidence and she had better use all of her power in the community to get it for me.

## Chapter Nine

Outside the courthouse, there were over a hundred people picketing with signs saying, "Free Kristal, she's innocent."

When I entered the courtroom, it was packed with reporters. The Mayor along with a dozen other public officials were sitting in the front row of the courtroom. Kristal's supporters sat on the left side of the courtroom and the friends and families of the Chief and Dan Fulton sat on the right side.

Standing at the prosecution's table was Deputy District Attorney Sandra Morales. She was a striking woman in her mid-forties. She was 5'7" with short upswept jet-black hair and a willowy figure. Her tailored red suit exuded power and confidence. Next to her was her assistant who was an African-American man in his early thirties. He was slightly pudgy and his navy-blue suit needed a good dry cleaning.

At the defendant's table was James Colby. In his early forties, he was 6'3" with a wide chest and broad shoulders. His tailored gray Armani suit draped his hard body perfectly. His tie was just the right shade of red. His hair was closely cropped with a few strands of gray. His mustache was thick and full. He was in his prime and he knew it.

Next to him was his assistant who was a red haired, green-eyed woman in her mid-thirties. She was tall and full bodied - a big beautiful woman. Her navy-blue suit was cut to show her round feminine curves.

Kristal sat at the defendant's table shackled in her orange suit. From her eyes, you could tell that she was frightened. She looked a little better than last night.

The bailiff called in Judge Alexis Pennington into the courtroom. She was a small faded looking woman in her mid-fifties. Her hair was completely gray and her face was covered with premature wrinkles from years of smoking.

Judge Pennington called the courtroom to order.

Sandra Morales said in an authoritative voice, "Your honor, the People are requesting that the defendant Kristal Woods be held without bail. The defendant is a threat to the community. She has been charged with the murders of three people-her husband Ralph Woods, former Assistant Chief Richard Carpenter and firefighter Dan Fulton. Because defendant has committed these horrible premeditated acts, the People are also seeking the death penalty in this case."

In a baritone voice, James Colby said, "Your honor, my client is not a threat to the community. She is innocent of the crimes that she has been charged with. For the past ten years, my client Kristal Woods has given her heart and soul to the community. She has won numerous awards for her community work. I have over fifty letters from community leaders throughout Santa Clara County to attest to Kristal's character.

"More importantly, I have a letter from Kristal's doctor to attest to the fact Kristal is eight weeks pregnant. She is suffering from terrible bouts of morning sickness and confining her to jail will make her condition worse."

A male voice shouted from the back, "Then she should get an abortion. She killed three innocent people!"

Judge Pennington banged her gavel and said, "Bailiffs, remove that man. I will not tolerate any outbursts in my courtroom."

Two bailiffs grabbed the burly man in his late twenties. He continued to shout, "Give her the lethal injection. A life for a life. She's a murderer."

Several people in the courtroom joined in chanting, "Give her the lethal injection. She's a murderer."

Judge Pennington fiercely banged her gavel and shouted, "I will not tolerate any outbursts in my courtroom."

The chanting became louder, "Fry her, she's a murderer. Fry her, she's a murderer."

Judge Pennington shouted, "Stop it, now!"

A dozen bailiffs rushed in and gripped the chanters one by one who continued to chant as they were led out of the courtroom.

Judge Pennington said, "Now, if there are any more outbursts in this courtroom, no one from the public will be permitted to attend any proceeding in this case. This is a court of law and I expect every individual to conduct herself or himself with dignity."

Sandra Morales rose and said, "Your honor, I am sorry for the outburst. It is unfortunate that you had to witness such childish behavior. Your honor, we disagree that the defendant should be provided with bail. First, the fact that she has morning sickness is not a reason to grant the defendant bail. The county's jail has a separate unit that houses pregnant inmates. This unit has an OB/GYN who can treat the defendant's condition. It would be unprecedented to release an inmate on the basis of morning sickness. Millions of women throughout our nation have gone through morning sickness. You have gone through it and so have I. It's an unpleasant condition, but as you and I both know, morning sickness is not a life-threatening condition.

"Moreover, your honor, the defendant has been charged with not one but three murders. The fact that she was a community leader is absolutely irrelevant. So is the fact that she has fifty letters of support. Her supporters know the public Kristal Woods, but they do not know the private Kristal Woods who planned and killed three innocent people who were members of the San Jose Fire Department. Defendant is a threat to every San Jose firefighter. The People in all good conscience cannot consent to bail. If defendant is released, she is likely to kill again."

James Colby rose and said, "Your honor, this is a bail setting hearing. Deputy District Attorney Morales should not be trying this case today. My client Kristal Woods has led an exemplary life. She is a law-abiding citizen. She has never even received a traffic ticket. She is a high school teacher, a community leader, and a soon to be mother. She is a role model.

"I vehemently disagree with Ms. Morales' assessment that Ms. Woods' supporters do not know the real her. Fannie Jimenez is Ms. Woods' former high school teacher and guidance counselor. She has known Ms. Woods for over twenty years. Ms. Woods is like a daughter to her. Whenever Ms. Woods has a problem, she seeks Ms. Jimenez's advice.

"Larry Cameron is another supporter who has known Ms. Woods since grade school. Ms. Woods is like a sister to him.

"Ms. Woods' supporters are not individuals who read about her in the newspaper or saw her on television. Rather they are people who know the real Ms. Woods who is a caring and giving individual.

"Finally, your honor, I disagree with Ms. Morales' assessment of Ms. Woods' condition. First of all, Ms. Woods' doctor's letter states that if my client does not receive proper treatment, she is likely to miscarry and lose her baby. Your honor, an innocent child's life is at stake. You heard those horrible comments from those protestors about destroying my client's child. Why should an innocent child's life be lost? It is just not right, your honor. It's immoral and unjust. Therefore, for the future well-being of Ms. Woods' child, please set bail for Ms. Wood."

Judge Pennington cleared her throat and said, "I understand the plight of the defendant. I have read her doctor's letter. I also have read the letters of her supporters. Defendant is revered by many and has never been charged with any wrong doing in the past.

Nonetheless, I cannot in good conscience grant bail to the defendant. She has been charged with killing three individuals. The District Attorney has shown that the defendant is a threat to the community.

With respect to defendant's medical condition, I hereby grant her doctor unlimited visitation rights to the Women's Jail and its medical facility. If necessary, defendant can be transported to the county's hospital under the care of her doctor.

Therefore, based on the above provisions that I have made, I am hereby denying defendant's request for bail."

Kristal's body began to shake and tears ran down her cheeks. Her face became contorted and she vomited on the table. She continued to vomit for the next minute and she cried uncontrollably.

James took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped Kristal's face. He asked the bailiff for paper towels and cleaned the desk with the paper towels. James whispered to Kristal that he would see her later that afternoon. Kristal was escorted from the courtroom by a bailiff.

Patrice's face showed that she was angry with the judge's decision. If the judge had asked her opinion, she would have said the D.A. could go to hell. Because I didn't want to deal with Patrice's wrath, I didn't say anything to her.

Instead, I went outside where reporters swarmed around James Colby and Sandra Morales. From the corner of my eye, I saw a reporter interviewing the Mayor. I walked toward the Mayor and heard her saying to the reporter, "This is a sad day for San Joseans. Kristal Woods is a personal friend who not only deceived me but everyone else. I feel violated and I grieve for the lives of three innocent men who served our city proudly."

I wanted to scream traitor. How could Kristal be so stupid in trusting this woman? This woman was not her friend. She didn't know the meaning of friendship.

As I turned to walk away, I was tapped on the shoulder. I turned around and saw a pleasant looking man in his middle thirties. His gray suit hung loosely around him. He looked like he could use another ten or fifteen pounds to fill out his frame. He wasn't classically handsome, but he looked like the kind a man whom you could share any type of information and he still would respect you. From his deep-set dark brown eyes, I could tell that he was a giving man.

He opened his mouth and said, "Hello, I am Michael Baylor. I am Kristal and Ralph Woods' minister. You must be Jasmine Myers."

I nodded my headed and said, "I'm pleased to meet you."

"Ms. Myers, I have some information for you. Could you meet me at my office in thirty minutes?"

"Sure."

Michael scribbled down his address.

After he left, I glanced at the address. He was the minister of the Holy Baptist Church, which was the largest African-American church in San Jose. Of course, it didn't surprise me that Kristal would be a parishioner at the church. She only liked the best of things. So, that was consistent.

I saw James Colby walking toward the parking lot. I approached him and said, "Hello, I am Jasmine Myers and I am a private investigator. I have been hired by Kristal Woods."

James extended his hand and said, "Pleased to meet you."

"I'd like to meet you later today to discuss the case if you are available."

"Sure, how about three o'clock at my office?"

"Sounds good to me."

He handed me a business card and walked away.

I called Sheila and told her the news about the bail.

Sheila said, "That's too bad. I know Patrice must be pissed off."

"What do you know about her?"

"She is one bad ass woman. Patrice has been the head of the African American Coalition for the past three years. And during that time, she has kicked ass on a number of issues at City Hall. She won't take no for an answer."

"Sheila, what do you know about her family?"

"Her only child William was gunned down by the San Jose Police a few years ago. Patrice had over a thousand people protesting at City Hall and shut it down. The cops who killed her son got fired. That's how she got involved with community politics."

Shit, her only child had been killed by the cops. That definitely explained her attitude.

"Does she have any other family out here?"

"No, she doesn't. Her father killed her mother and her female lover when he found them in bed together. He then shot himself in the head."

Kristal's family was tame by comparison. I definitely did not want cross Patrice Collins, because there was no telling what she would do to me.

"What is her connection to Kristal?"

"She took Kristal in when Kristal was a child. Kristal's family had a lot of problems and they were ready to put her in foster care, because nobody wanted her."

"Are she and Kristal related?"

"Patrice's father was Kristal's godfather. But beyond that, they're not."

"Is she married?"

"Patrice has been married at least two or three times. Her last marriage ended in divorce a couple years ago."

"Is she seeing anybody?"

"Patrice likes younger men who are well built but aren't smart enough to challenge her. When she gets bored with them, she discards them like old shoes."

"What does she do for a living?"

"She's a writer. She's published a couple books and she's written a lot of poems."

"Has she made any money from it?"

"Yeah, her last book netted her over a half million dollars."

Damn, Patrice had money. I said, "If Kristal needed money, she could go to her, right?"

"No, she couldn't. Patrice spends money like it's going out of style. She has a big house up in the hills that is mortgaged to the hilt. And she spends money on her men. Patrice is like a lot of people living from pay check to pay check."

Damn, it was too bad she had passed on her bad spending habits to Kristal.

"Sheila, is it possible that she helped Kristal kill Ralph for money?"

"Nah, as much as Patrice likes money, she likes screwing more. And so long as she has a young piece of ass, she is happy. And besides, she could go back to her old profession."

I was tempted to say hired assassin. Instead, I asked, "What did she used to do?"

"Patrice was a corporate lawyer. She worked for Miller, Rogers, and Croth. She was pulling down six figures. And she was on the fast track to becoming a partner."

"Why did she leave? Discrimination?"

"Nothing like that. Patrice left, because she was found screwing one of the law clerks in her office. The law clerk later threatened to sue the firm for sexual harassment and the firm got rid her like yesterday's newspaper."

Damn, this woman had problems. She definitely needed to control her sex drive. And I thought Sheila was out of control.

"Was she sleeping with Ralph?"

"No, that wasn't her style. Messing around with Ralph was something she'd never do. Kristal means too much to her. And besides Ralph wasn't into messing around. He was really dedicated to Kristal."

"Is Patrice for real?"

"Jazz, the woman is damn good at what she does. And anyone with any sense wouldn't mess with her."

"Why is that?"

"Because Patrice Collins is well connected and she is always right."

"Sheila, nobody is always right. That's impossible."

"She is. I suggest that you not mess with her, because she is the power."

"Sheila, I hear what you're saying. Anyway, I got to run, because I have an appointment in fifteen minutes."

Patrice was the power base of the community and she was Kristal's protector. Patrice was out of control when it came to younger men. But hell, if she were a man, nobody would look twice at her. So, I shouldn't judge her on that count.

And I couldn't believe that Sheila was so in awe of her. Sheila had never been a follower of anyone. But maybe Patrice was somebody that you followed. She hadn't really impressed me, but hell, what did I know about this city's politics?

Anyway, Patrice hadn't offered me anything concrete. And if the leader of the community couldn't help me, who could?

## Chapter Ten

It felt strange going to a church. The last time I had been in church was twenty years ago.

After Mama died, I stopped going to church. I couldn't believe that He had taken her away from me. She had never hurt anyone. It was so wrong.

And quite frankly, I couldn't buy into the bull that it was her time. It's no one's time when you are not even 43 years old. God had abandoned me when Mama died. And that was something I had never forgiven Him for.

When I knocked on the church door, a woman who in her seventies greeted me. Her face was sprinkled with wrinkles. She was slightly stooped and walked with a cane.

I smiled at her and said "Hello, my name is Jasmine Myers and I have an appointment with Reverend Michael Baylor."

She smiled and said, "Oh, do come in. I'll ring the Reverend."

Michael came out and led me into his office.

He said, "I wanted to talk to you privately about Kristal."

I nodded.

He looked into my eyes and said, "I have known Kristal for over ten years. At times, she can appear to be arrogant and self-centered, but that isn't the real Kristal. The real Kristal is a very kind and caring person. I know deep in my heart and let God be my witness that there is absolutely no way that Kristal could have killed anyone. It's impossible."

I asked, "Why is that?"

"Because I just know that Kristal could not have killed them."

"Reverend, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but a jury won't buy that. I need evidence."

"Call me Michael. This is the information that you need."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to me.

On the paper, there was a handwritten note dated October 5, 2005. saying to contact Bill Roberts and to do laundry. Ralph had signed it.

I looked at Michael in puzzlement and said, "What does this have to with anything?"

"This note was given to me the day before Ralph's death. I think Bill Roberts may hold the answer."

"Reverend, I mean Michael, where did you get this note?"

"Ralph gave it to me."

"Why did he give it to you?"

"Ralph told me I should hold on to it, because I might need it someday."

"Who is Bill Roberts?"

"I don't know."

"Is he a firefighter?"

"Again, I have no idea who he is."

"Did Ralph tell you what he meant by do laundry?"

"No, he didn't discuss anything with me. He just gave me the note."

I swallowed hard and said, "Who knows that you have this information?"

"No one. Not even Kristal."

Great, a note with the name Bill Roberts and washing laundry. The note didn't even have a phone number for Bill Roberts.

"Well Michael, I'll see what I can find out. Thanks for the information."

"Jasmine, you should come to our service."

I mumbled, "I'll try to make it sometime."

He looked me in the eyes and said, "How about this Sunday?"

This man wanted me to attend church. I don't think so. I wanted to lie to him and say I would be there, but I couldn't. Instead, I said, "I am sorry Michael, I won't be able to attend."

"That's alright. I understand. But remember God is always watching over you."

"I hear you. Anyway, I will be touch."

"Yes, we will be. When you see Kristal, tell her my prayers are with her."

I said, "Michael, I'll do that."

* * *

Kristal looked worse than she did this morning. She said glumly, "I hope you have some good news."

I said, "I am sorry about the bail hearing."

"I'm stuck here in shithole. It's totally messed up."

"Kristal, I did find out something new. I saw Reverend Michael Baylor and he gave me some information."

Her eyes lighted up and she said, "Really. What is it?"

"On the day before your husband's death, your husband gave him a note saying that he should contact Bill Roberts and do laundry and he should hold onto the note, because he might need it someday."

"Bill Roberts?"

"Do you know who he is?"

"I know a lot of people, but his name does not sound familiar at all."

"Could he be a firefighter?"

"He could be. I really don't know. Ralph never mentioned anyone by that name to me."

"Okay. I'll try to see you later this evening. I am going to talk with George Stone to see if he knows him. I also have a meeting with your attorney this afternoon and I'll let you know how that goes."

"George Stone. He's not going to know anything."

"I have a hunch that he might."

"I don't trust him. He's a white man."

"And he's married to a sister. So, the man has some credibility."

"I don't know about that."

Because I didn't want to get into a long discussion with Kristal, I said curtly, "I will see you later." I then walked out of the room.

* * *

When I arrived at George Stone's office, he was walking out the door.

I asked, "Can you spare a couple of minutes?"

"If you walk with me to the parking lot, I can talk to you."

"No problem."

"What's up?"

"Did you hear about Kristal being charged?"

"Yeah, I heard about it last night."

"Kristal's still in custody. They denied bail this morning."

"I heard that on the radio a few minutes ago."

"George, I need information about Bill Roberts."

He looked at me with a puzzled expression and said, "I don't know anyone by the name of Bill Roberts."

"He's not a firefighter?"

"No. There is Earl Roberts who is a captain and Chuck Roberts who is the Assistant Deputy Chief."

"Okay, what station is Earl Roberts at?"

"Earl Roberts is at Station thirty-seven in South San Jose and Chuck Roberts is at the main office."

"Okay, thanks for the information."

I left his office and headed to South San Jose. When I arrived at Station 37, a tall heavyset blond woman who was in her early thirties greeted me. Her face was hard and tanned. She looked like a bodybuilder who dabbled in steroids.

I asked her if I could speak with Earl Roberts.

She gruffly replied, "He's inside in the study room."

She led me into the study room where Earl Roberts was reading a firefighter's manual.

She said, "There's someone here to see you."

Earl looked up from his book. He was a short stocky man in his late forties with graying hair. He stood up and asked, "What can I do for you?"

"My name is Jasmine Woods and I am a private investigator. I was trying to locate Bill Roberts."

"Bill Roberts?"

"Isn't he a family member?"

"No, there's nobody in my family by that name."

"Do you know Bill Roberts?"

"No, I don't know anyone by that name."

"Okay, thank you for your time."

I shook his hand and headed toward the main office in downtown San Jose.

* * *

I waited ten minutes before Assistant Deputy Chief Chuck Roberts who was a tall tanned white man in his early forties greeted me. His dark hair was thick and wavy and he was clean-shaven. He was what folks called ruggedly handsome.

I introduced myself and said, "I was wondering if you could help me find Bill Roberts?"

Chuck stared at me like he had seen a ghost. He said, "Find him? I have been looking for him for years and I haven't been able to find him."

"Why?"

"Bill Roberts was my father. Over twenty years ago, he disappeared. It was like he just vanished. We all tried looking for him, but we never found a trace."

"We?"

"Me, my mother, my sister, the police and a whole lot of other people."

"What did your father do for a living?"

"He was a politician. At the time of his disappearance, he was the Mayor of San Jose."

"Any leads on why he disappeared?"

"Not really. There were all kinds of rumors, but none of them were true. Anyway, why are you asking about my father?"

I thought about lying, but I decided to tell the truth. I took a deep breath and said, "On the night before Ralph Woods' death, he gave his minister a note saying that he should contact Bill Roberts."

He turned his face slightly away from me and he said dryly, "His wife is up for murdering him and two other men. I don't know why Ralph would give my father's name to his minister. Nobody has seen my father in twenty years. There must be some other Bill Roberts that Ralph was talking about."

"I guess Bill Roberts is a common name."

"There are over 18,000 people with the name Bill Roberts in the United States. When I went looking for my father, I ran into so many dead ends, because his name was so common."

"I'm sorry that you never found him."

"So am I. Good luck with your search."

* * *

I drove to a gas station that had a phone booth. I looked in the phone book and there were fourteen William Roberts listed. Well, at least that was a lot less than 18,000. But hell, the Bill Roberts that I was looking for might not even be listed. Why hadn't Ralph given Michael a phone number? It didn't make any sense.

I dialed Keith's phone number. To my surprise, he answered.

"Hi, Keith. How are you?"

"Alright. What's going on? And, where are you? I can hear cars."

"I'm at a phone booth near downtown. I was calling you about Bill Roberts."

"Bill Roberts, who is he?"

Damn. Keith didn't know who Bill Roberts was either.

"Ralph gave his minister a note to contact Bill Roberts and told him to hold onto the note for safekeeping."

"Sorry, Jazz, I can't help you."

"I did find out that there was a Bill Roberts who was the Mayor of San Jose twenty years ago when he disappeared. His son Chuck Roberts is the Assistant Deputy Fire Chief and has looked for him over the years, but no one ever found him."

"You know, I do remember someone saying that Chuck's old man vanished a long time ago. But that's it. Jazz, I don't think he is the same Bill Roberts that the note was about. Bill Roberts is a really common name."

"Yeah, I know."

"Jazz, I know I came on strong the other day. But I was hoping that you would change your mind."

"Keith, no I haven't. And if you want to know the truth, there is nothing that you can do to get me to change my mind."

"I can't believe you just said that."

"Keith, your wife is pregnant. I suggest that you start preparing yourself for fatherhood."

"You're just jealous, because you're infertile."

I wanted to scream that I wasn't infertile, because I had gotten pregnant by Eric long before we were married. But that was none of his business. And if he had learned to screw better, I might have gotten pregnant. Hell, Loretta was only tolerant of his sorry no can screw ass, because she was a virgin who wouldn't know what good sex was.

Instead, I said, "Keith, we'll be in touch." I then slammed the phone down hard.

Goddamn, Keith and his ego. I shouldn't even have bothered calling him.

Shit, I have an appointment in five minutes with Kristal's lawyer. I jumped in my car and drove to his office.

* * *

When I arrived at James Colby's office, a plump woman in her late fifties with salt and pepper hair greeted me.

She smiled at me and said, "James is expecting you. I'll take you to his office.

When I entered James' office, I was impressed by the art on his oak-paneled walls. Either James or his decorator had good taste.

James said, "Jasmine, it's a pleasure to see you again. Anyway, as you know bail was denied this morning for Kristal. All they have is circumstantial evidence and that's it. I don't know what the D.A. is trying to prove."

"I agree with you. This morning I spoke with Kristal's minister and I found that on the day before Ralph's death, Ralph gave him a note to contact Bill Roberts with no phone number."

"Bill Roberts? I don't know anyone by that name."

"Neither does Kristal, but I did find out that Assistant Deputy Chief Chuck Roberts' father was named Bill Roberts. And he disappeared twenty years ago while he was serving as a Mayor of our city. No one ever found him."

"He's probably dead or something like that. I think it's highly unlikely that Chuck Roberts' father has anything to do with the case. It must be some other Bill Roberts."

"I was thinking the same thing also. Bill Roberts is such a common name. I don't know how I am going to find the right one. Unless . . ."

James interrupted and said, "Unless the note somehow was really referring to someone related to Bill Roberts. Maybe someone who was a member of the San Jose Fire Department."

I wanted to say I was about to say the same thing. I then looked down at his ring finger and noticed that there was no ring on it. But hell, a lot of married men didn't wear rings. So, that didn't mean anything.

Wait a second, why am I checking this man out? Kristal had hired me to find the murderer of her husband, not to get involved with her lawyer. This was strictly business.

I smiled and said, "James, that could be the key. I'll check out Chuck Roberts' records to see if I can find any connection."

James looked me directly in the eyes and said, "Even if you don't find anything, I know we'll find something to clear Kristal. I just know it."

God knows that I should be thinking about the case and Kristal, but all that I could think about was his lips. What would it be like to be kissed by him? The truth was I was even thinking about a lot more than kissing him. I wanted to make love to him. Which was totally insane, because I had known this man for exactly six hours.

I swallowed hard and said, "Anyway, I should get going."

James extended his hand and shook my hand and said, "I'll be expecting to see you again after you look into the Chuck Roberts angle."

When he shook my hand, I felt a surge of electricity. What was wrong with me? This man hadn't come on to me. Why was I feeling this way about him? Was it because Keith had just pissed me off? Maybe it was because it had been so long since I had been with a man. Was I hitting my sexual peak? They say a woman hits her sexual peak when she is thirty-five. Well, I guess I am two years late. But I have always been late when it comes to those kinds of things. I didn't get my period until I was fourteen years old. It was kind of embarrassing; because during my freshman year in high school, I was the only one who didn't need to take time off from swimming.

But hell, even if I were at my sexual peak, I needed to stop thinking about James. If we got involved, it was not going to help Kristal. Yeah, I am just going to have to control my thoughts and my body.

I was going home to take a cold shower. If that shit works for men, it has to work for us. I then left James' office and drove home so that I could relieve myself.

## Chapter Eleven

I had been waiting in the lobby of the main office of the Fire Department for over an hour. I had tried getting Chuck Roberts' records from Human Resources and I was told that under California law, personnel records were confidential. Unless Chuck consented to their disclosure, I could not have a copy of his records.

Chuck had been due back fifteen minutes ago. I was beginning to wonder if coming here had been a waste of my time. I stared at my watch. Ten more minutes, then I was leaving.

Another fifteen minutes passed. I was about to leave, when I saw Chuck Roberts come in.

He said, "You're back. I already gave you the information about my father."

"I have something else I want to talk you about."

"What?"

"Look, I really don't want to talk about it here. Why don't we go into your office?"

"Okay, I got a few minutes."

When we walked into his office, I shut the door behind us.

I cleared my throat and said, "I am trying to get a hold of your personnel records."

"My personnel records. What for? They're confidential."

"I know that. But I need them for my case for Kristal Woods."

"Are you saying I'm a suspect? I didn't kill anyone."

"No one said that you did. But there is something very strange about Kristal's husband giving a note to their minister to contact Bill Roberts the day before his death. It's my hunch that Ralph had used the name Bill Roberts as a code for someone related to him."

Chuck's face turned red. He said, "I don't know what Ralph's problem was. But I will tell you again; I did not kill him or anyone else. I suggest you look elsewhere."

"Chuck, where were you on the night of Ralph's death?"

"Shit, I can't believe you're asking me that."

"Look, you either answer my question or I will go to the media and say that we found a new possible suspect in Kristal's husband's death."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Don't push me. I'm not into playing games."

"That night I was on vacation camping in Yosemite Park."

"Do you have any witnesses?"

"Yeah, my two camping buddies-Kerry and Frank."

"And where were you when the Chief died?"

"I was still on vacation. I didn't hear about any of this until I got back from vacation. It was a total shock to me."

"And what about Dan Fulton?"

"I was in San Francisco at an all-day conference."

"Alright."

"I didn't kill anyone. You're just wasting your time with me."

"All I'm trying to do is to find the real killer. Kristal is sitting up in jail for crimes that she did not commit."

Chuck looked down at his desk and mumbled, "I feel sorry for Kristal. It's too bad what happened."

There was something peculiar about Chuck not looking at me. I said, "Kristal is having a really hard time being in jail. Yesterday she threw up in court."

Chuck refused to look at me. He again looked down at his desk. He said, "I heard about that. It must have been awful."

"Being in jail and pregnant is a living hell for Kristal."

Chuck became irate and said, "A living hell for Kristal? What about for the father of her child?"

"The father of her child? What are you talking about? Kristal was married to Ralph. Unless you're saying there was someone else."

Chuck's face turned a deep red and he said, "Yeah, there was someone else."

"Who?"

"Me."

Kristal had been screwing around on her husband. She hadn't bothered telling me. Dammit, I needed a drink. This shit is going to make me fall off the wagon. I just can't deal with the bullshit anymore. No, screw that weak mentality. I can handle it. Yes, I can handle a bunch of messed up people. I don't need a drink to help me cope with the bullshit.

I took a deep breath and said, "You're the father of Kristal's child?"

"I might be. I mean I don't know."

"Did she tell Ralph that he might not be the father?"

"Hell no. He didn't know about us. And there was no way that she would ever tell him."

"What about after the baby was born?"

"She made it clear from the beginning, there was no way that she would ever tell Ralph that I might be the father of her child."

"What if the baby came out looking like you, then what?"

"She still wasn't going to say anything."

"Surely, Ralph would find out if you petitioned for visitation rights."

"California law sucks for men. I've already spoken to several father's rights lawyers and they told me I have no rights. If a child is born to a married woman while she is living with her husband, it is presumed that the father of her child is her husband. He has the right to file a petition challenging paternity within two years of the child's birth. And the woman has the right to file a petition stating that her husband might not be the father. But as for the guy, who might really be the father, he has no rights."

"Chuck, what you're saying is that you have no legal rights. But still, you could have confronted Ralph about the child."

"No, that's my style. I love Kristal and I would never do anything that would hurt her."

"Isn't it true that if Ralph died before the baby was born, you could file a lawsuit for paternity?"

"I don't know. I'm not a lawyer."

"Chuck, don't bullshit with me. You know the answer and that's why you killed Ralph."

"I didn't kill him or anyone else. You really think that I would kill Kristal's husband so that I could have visitation rights to the baby. That's utter bullshit. For your information, when I found out that Kristal was pregnant, I told her that she might want to get an abortion so there wouldn't be any problems later on. But Kristal wanted the baby. So, I was stuck with her decision. It's not like I had a choice or anything."

"If you didn't want the baby, why did you even go to see a lawyer?"

"Kristal decided to keep the baby so I wanted to know my rights as a father or as a potential father. That's all. Now I know them."

"How long have you been seeing Kristal?"

"On and off for three years."

"You have been seeing Kristal throughout her marriage to Ralph?"

"Yes."

"Did you ever ask Kristal to leave Ralph?"

"In the beginning I did. But after a while, it was pointless."

"Why wouldn't she leave Ralph?"

"Kristal is really into public image. She felt because she was a leader in the African-American community, it would be a slap in the community's face if she married a white man."

"You stayed with her knowing that?"

"I don't know if you've been ever been in love, but I am totally in love with Kristal. And it wasn't like I needed to get married or anything. I have already failed at marriage twice. If Kristal didn't want to leave Ralph and be with me, I could handle that."

"But what about the child? Your child?"

"I was hoping at some point, Kristal would change her mind."

God, this man sounded like a wimp. But maybe that was what love did to men.

"Do you think Kristal killed Ralph?"

"No. Kristal is not a murderer. She is a lot of things. But a murderer, she's not."

* * *

Kristal's eyes were bloodshot from crying. She gave me a weak smile.

"Jasmine, did you find out anything new?"

"Yeah, I did. Do you know Chuck Roberts?"

"Chuck Roberts?"

"You know the guy that you're sleeping with."

"Who told you that?"

"He did."

"God, I can't believe he betrayed me."

"Is it true that he might be the father of your child?"

Kristal stared at the ground and said nothing.

"Kristal, is he the father of your child?"

Kristal patted her belly and said, "He might be."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me that from the beginning?"

"If I had told you that I had a lover and that he might be the father of my baby, would have you taken my case?"

"Hell, I've heard a lot worse things."

"Did Ralph know about him?"

"Absolutely not."

"Did you hire me, because you suspected that Chuck had killed Ralph out of jealously?"

"Yes."

"You know Kristal, you wasted a lot of my time. Is there any other shit that I should know about?"

"No."

"Because if I find something that you should have told me, I am the off the case. Understand."

Kristal nodded.

"How come you never went to the cops about suspecting Chuck?"

"You know that I did go to them. But I couldn't tell them everything. What was I going to say- I am seeing a man who might have knocked me up and he might have killed my husband out of jealously. For God's sake, I am a community leader. What would people think if they knew I was cheating on my husband and not just with anyone but with a white man? Anyway, I was hoping that the police would somehow discover that Chuck had killed Ralph."

"And how the hell would they find that out? With voodoo magic? Come on. You didn't name anybody, so they dismissed it."

"I didn't want people to know about me being with a white man."

"This is the 21st century Kristal. No one gives a shit about the color of the person you are with. What you should have been more concerned about is that you thought your lover killed your husband."

"I hear what you're saying. But still."

"Still my ass. Preserving your reputation was stupid."

"You know I'm not paying you to judge me."

"Kristal, I'm going to be really honest with you. If you had told the police about Chuck from the beginning, they probably would have credited you for coming forward. But now if this shit comes out, you are through. The motive is there."

"Chuck would never tell anyone."

"Kristal, it's no secret that I went to see him twice. Who knows what people think? And he went to several attorneys about advice on how he could have visitation rights."

"So what? Chuck has no rights under California law. And besides because of attorney-client privilege, those attorneys can't say a damn anything."

"There is an attorney-client privilege, but sometimes lawyers forget those rules and tip the press or the police anonymously."

"At this point, I don't care if the truth comes out. I'm being charged with three murders that I didn't commit and I am facing the death penalty."

"I will tell you again. Your relationship with Chuck is going to hurt the case."

"Let people think what they want to think. I didn't kill anyone."

"And what about Chuck?"

"I thought he might have killed Ralph. But now with the others gone, I don't think so. There was no reason to kill them. So, my answer is no."

"By the way just for your own information, Chuck has an alibi. He was on vacation when Ralph and the Chief were killed and he was at an all-day conference when Dan was killed."

"Yeah, Chuck did mention that he was going on a camping trip. But to me that didn't mean anything. I mean he could have left and killed Ralph and come back."

"Did Chuck know Ralph was allergic to penicillin?"

"Yeah, everyone knew, because Ralph always wore his bracelet."

"Back to Ralph, you're saying that he didn't know about you and Chuck. How come he gave your minister a note saying to contact Bill Roberts and told him to keep it in a safe place?"

"Bill Roberts?"

"Bill Roberts is Chuck's father."

"Oh him. He disappeared a long time ago. It's not like I tried to remember his name or anything. That's why I blanked out on you earlier. Anyway, it's impossible that Chuck's father has anything to do with the case."

"Could it be that Bill Roberts was a code for Chuck?"

"I doubt it. I told you that Ralph did not know about us."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because Chuck and I were totally discreet about our relationship. Nobody knew."

"Did you go to his place?"

"No, we didn't go to his place in Morgan Hill because I was really paranoid about being seen. And we didn't go to hotels or anything like that."

"Then where?"

"Chuck had an apartment in Half Moon Bay and there's no way Ralph could have known about it, because it was rented under someone else's name."

"Whose name?"

"A name that we had made up-Sally Thompson."

"What's the address of this apartment and his place."

Kristal quickly recited the addresses.

"Kristal, I think I have just about hit the wall with this case. If Chuck didn't kill Ralph, the Chief, and Dan, the only other suspect is you. I have no one else."

"Yes, you do. You have Bill Roberts as a suspect."

"Yeah, I don't know who the right one is. By the time, I find him . . ." I didn't finish my sentence, because I was going to say that she would be convicted.

"Jasmine, keep trying."

"I will. I'll see what turns up."

* * *

My cell phone rang. It was Patrice.

She said, "I need to see you."

"Why?"

"Because I just do."

I wanted to tell Patrice to go to hell, but instead I said, "Where do you want to meet?"

"In Berkeley at Toni's Cafe. Be there at ten tonight."

When I arrived at Toni's Café, the audience was mostly women. There were drinks on everyone's table. From the corner of my eye, I saw a bottle of whiskey. Damn, why was it teasing me? Goddamn it, I need to leave. But I couldn't, because I was here to meet Patrice. I'll just ignore the whiskey and pretend it doesn't exist.

I turned and saw Patrice who was on the stage. She was dressed in a short mini dress with her braids piled high on her head.

Patrice cleared her throat and smiled. "I want to thank you all for coming out. I want to end with one of my favorites. It's called Brothers in their Forties."

The audience applauded. In a throaty voice, she said,

"Brothers in their forties.

Potbellied, flat behinds,

And receding hairlines.

Rarely, do you see one who is extremely fine.

Some of them married and

Some of them divorced.

Some of them have had serious monogamous relationships.

And others have had serious polygamous relationships where

They cannot commit to one sister but they have to have

Two or three sisters and

Sometimes one of the women is not

One of us.

Brothers in their forties.

Some of them are daddies.

And others are granddaddies.

Some of them live with their children, and

Others have abandoned their children.

Brothers in their forties.

Some living their lives like they are whores

Where they will sleep with anything, and

Others using aids like Viagra, because

Nature has abandoned them.

Brothers in their forties.

When you have to wonder where

The thunder has gone;

It's time to get a new man

Who is a lot younger."

The audience roared with laughter and gave her a standing ovation. Patrice left the podium and sat down at the table of a man who couldn't have been more than 32 years old. Patrice had to be at least fifteen years older than him. The man was mega-fine. And quite frankly, he looked better than any model. His burgundy sweater and jeans fit his muscular body perfectly. On a one to ten scale, he was a twelve.

Patrice clasped her hands into his and beamed with a wicked smile.

I walked over to her table. Patrice's man didn't even look in my direction.

I said, "Patrice, that was one helluva of a poem."

Patrice replied, "Thank you. This is Jerome. He is a special friend of mine."

I extended my hand to Jerome. He shook my hand like I was some kind of robot. His handshake was totally devoid of any feeling.

Patrice definitely had this man trained to belong to her. There was no way that he would leave her for anyone. She was totally in control.

I said, "Patrice, I was wondering if I could talk to you alone for a few minutes."

"Sure, we can go outside and talk." Patrice turned to Jerome and said, "Baby, I'll be right back. I just need to take care of a little bit of business."

Jerome smiled like he was some kind of trance and said, "Don't be long. I'm going to miss you. You know that I need you."

"Baby, I know you need me. So, you be good."

He looked at her with the eyes of a puppy and said, "Yes, I will be good just for you."

This shit between them was getting on my nerves. I wanted to say I am not interested in your sex play, but instead I said nothing.

Patrice got up and we walked outside to the lobby. She pointed to the stairs and said, "Young lady, we can talk on the balcony, because no one is there."

Shit, I was glad that we were going up for some air. Now I could get away from the bottle and not have to deal with it anymore. Instead, I would have deal with Patrice's shit. Which could not be any worse.

We walked silently up the stairs. When we reached the top, Patrice said, "What did you find out?"

"Nothing good."

"What is it?"

"I really can't discuss it."

"Look, you can tell me anything. If it weren't for me, James Colby wouldn't be on the case."

I swallowed hard and said, "Kristal was having an affair and that is not going to help her case."

"Is that it?"

How could this woman be so nonchalant?

"Yeah, that's it."

"Young lady, just because Kristal was screwing somebody other than her husband doesn't mean anything. People have affairs all the time."

"Patrice, you don't understand. Kristal was involved in a love triangle which means she and her lover had a reason to kill off Ralph."

"That is the kind of shit that you see in the movies. But this is real life. Kristal is not a killer. She just likes men and there ain't nothing wrong with that."

"Like I said before, this doesn't help the case."

"Screwing is not a crime. And if married men can cheat on their wives, so can women. To hell with the double standard."

I didn't respond, because I was afraid that anything I said would piss her off.

Patrice continued, "The bottom line is that you're going to find a lot of things that are not going to help the case. But that doesn't matter. You need to stay focused and find the real killer."

"Do you know who Bill Roberts is?"

"Yeah, he is Chuck's father. He disappeared a long time ago. What does he have to with the case?"

"I don't know. Reverend Michael Baylor was given a note with his name on it from Ralph the day before he was killed."

"That's real interesting. This case is going to be a lot nastier than I thought."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing, you'll see."

I wanted to question her more, but I knew that she wouldn't answer me.

Instead I said, "If I find out anything about him or anything else, I will let you know."

Patrice cleared her throat and said, "I'm going out of town for the next couple of months. I'm touring Europe with my new book of poetry. But by the time I get back, I want to hear that Kristal is free. I won't stand for anything less."

"How do I keep in contact with you?"

"You will always be in contact with me. I have people who are working for me. So my presence will always be here."

"Who are your people?"

"Don't worry about it. They know who you are and that is all that matters. Anyway, I have got some business to attend to before I leave tonight. And it's going take the rest of the night."

"What is it?"

"You met him. And I can't keep him waiting too long."

It didn't feel right that she was leaving town. Was she hiding something? But what was the point? I knew that she wouldn't tell me shit.

Instead, I extended my hand and told her good-bye.

Going to Berkeley had been a waste of time. Patrice still hadn't given me a goddamn piece of evidence to exonerate Kristal. And just believing in her innocence would not save her.

There was still the Bill Roberts link to the case. And if that didn't pan out, Kristal had to be the one.

## Chapter Twelve

When I arrived at Martin Luther King, Jr. Library, I asked for Sheila. Within a couple of minutes, Sheila greeted me and took me into her office.

She said, "How it's going?"

"It's going okay."

"Have you made any inroads on the case?"

I didn't want to tell her about Kristal's affair with Chuck. Sheila loved community gossip and knowing her she might unintentionally leak this information, because she liked to talk. No, it was too dangerous to give her this information.

"Nothing significant, yet. Do you keep a file on past mayors of San Jose."?

"Yes, we do in our archives section."

"Who are you looking for?"

"Bill Roberts. He was Mayor about twenty years ago."

"Why are you looking up him?"

I thought about telling her the truth about the clue that I obtained from Kristal's minister. Instead, I said, "Someone hired me and asked me to find him." Now, that really wasn't a lie, because I needed to find Bill Roberts for the case.

"Find him? Why? What happened to him?"

"He disappeared twenty years ago."

"And someone wants to find him now? Sounds like a waste of time."

I knew if I kept talking about Bill Roberts, I would mention Kristal's name. So, I switched to another subject.

"What do you know about James Colby?"

"He's an excellent attorney. Hell, if I were in any trouble, I would hire him."

"Sheila, is his wife an attorney also?"

"His wife? James is not married. His wife and his only child- his six-year-old daughter died in a car accident about five years ago. Why are you asking about him anyway?"

"I was just curious."

"Curious my ass. You like him."

"Yeah, maybe kind of."

"Jazz, you need to go for him. How long has been since you had some?"

"None of your business."

"Jazz, it's about time. If I were celibate like you, I would go crazy. I can't go a week without having my weekly fill."

I blushed and said nothing.

"So Jazz, when are you and him going out?"

"Going out? The man has not asked me out."

"Ask him out to dinner. And let me know all the juicy details."

"I am not going to ask him out. James will think I am some kind oversexed out of control woman."

"Men don't think that way anymore."

"I'll just wait for him to ask me out. He just might not be interested in me."

"Girl, you gonna be waiting until you're fifty years old. If you're afraid to ask him to dinner, ask him out for a cup of coffee."

"A date for a cup of coffee. I guess I can handle that." The truth was that I had never asked any man out not even for a cup coffee. I knew I was going to have to rehearse this line a few times. And what if he said no, I would feel like a fool. But I guess coffee was innocent enough.

"And Jazz, when do you go out, just think about all the things that you want to do to him."

I wanted to say that I already had, but I was too embarrassed to say anything. Instead I said, "So Sheila, where do you keep that file on the mayors?"

"It's in the reference section on the third floor. We can get it now."

Sheila took me to the reference section and pulled out the file on San Jose mayors.

"This file goes back to 1970. He should be in here."

Sheila thumbed through the file. She pulled out microfiche labeled Bill Roberts.

"Here it is."

"Thank you for your help."

"Jazz, remember to ask James out for coffee."

"I won't forget. I'll do it the next time I see him."

Sheila left me with the microfiche.

After two hours of reviewing every single article in the microfiche, my head was throbbing.

Bill Roberts was a former firefighter who was first elected to city council in 1974. In 1978, he ran for mayor and he won by a landslide with the support of the Firefighter's Union. He ran again in November 1982 and he barely beat his opponent by 221 votes. Apparently, a lot of firefighters were upset with him, because Bill Roberts had championed a city ordinance that hurt the strength of the union. Bill Roberts had stacked the Civil Service Commission with anti-union members.

On November 11, 1982, a week after he had been reelected as mayor, Bill Roberts disappeared. There had been a full-scale investigation and no one ever found anything. It had been rumored that the local firefighters' union had murdered him. The union's president along with other high-ranking officials in the union had been investigated by the San Jose Police and no one was able to find anything.

The creeks of San Jose had been searched and Bill Roberts' body was never found. It was an unsolved mystery.

Ralph's note could have nothing to do with the former Mayor Bill Roberts. What would a disappearance more than twenty years ago, have do with Chief Carpenter's sudden departure? It made no sense.

I walked outside and called my father's number from my cell phone.

"Hi Jazz."

"Dad, I was calling you to see if you know about the former Mayor Bill Roberts who disappeared twenty years ago."

"Why are you asking about him?"

"Because I have been hired to find him."

"No one has seen him in twenty-three years. You're wasting your time."

"Dad, I hear what you're saying. But I need to know what happened in that case."

"Jazz, I can't really talk right now. But how about we meet in thirty minutes at my favorite place."

"Sure, Dad. I'll see you. Bye."

I called my office and checked my messages. To my surprise, there was a message from Chuck Roberts saying that he needed to talk to me as soon as possible.

I quickly dialed his number and I was told that he had left for a meeting and he would not be back until tomorrow.

I walked to my car and headed toward Evelyn's Place.

When I arrived, there were only two other patrons in the restaurant. Evelyn's Place was known for the best sweet potato pie in town.

My father was already waiting for me in the lobby. The owner Evelyn Walker who was a large sized woman in her late fifties seated us. She wore her salt and pepper short hair in a natural hairstyle.

My father said, "Evelyn, we'll have two slices of sweet potato pie heated with vanilla ice cream on the side along with your best cup of coffee in the house."

Evelyn winked at my father and said, "The best for only the best."

She walked back to the kitchen.

Dad asked, "So why are you investigating the disappearance of Bill Roberts?"

I answered, "Dad, I already told you that someone hired me to find him."

"Who? His son Chuck? He has been looking for him for years and he never found anything."

"No, someone else."

"Jasmine, I am going to tell you something that you're not going to like to hear. Don't look for him. In the end, you will only get hurt."

"Why?"

"Jazz, you're my only child and I don't want to lose you."

"Dad, you act like I am dealing with the Mafia."

"Close to it."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You probably know that there were allegations that the Firefighters Union murdered Bill Roberts and their top-ranking officials were investigated."

"But they were cleared by the San Jose Police."

"Do you know who the chief investigating officer was?"

"No. But what does that have to anything?"

"Jazz, the chief investigating officer was the President of the Police Officers Union. The word is that he was paid off by the Firefighters Union and that he even may have been involved with Bill Roberts' disappearance."

"You're telling me that the President of the Police Officers Union might have killed Bill Roberts."

"Exactly. The President of the Police Officers Union was very close to the President of the Firefighters Union. It was no secret that the Firefighters Union and the Police Officers Union were pissed off with Bill Roberts' anti-union stance. They had poured tens of thousands of dollars into first Mayoral campaign and he had screwed them over. When he was re-elected, they were livid. Then, as you know, Bill Roberts disappeared within a week of the election. I believe that he's buried six feet under someone's house."

"Dad, if this was the case, how come this never came out?"

"Because no one had the balls to challenge the findings. Everyone was too afraid that they might be next in line."

"Next in line?"

"Next in line for death."

"Dad, did the chief investigating officer retire? Is he still alive?"

"Jazz, he is very much alive and no he didn't retire. He is currently the Chief of the San Jose Police Department."

"Mark Lindsey?"

"That's him."

"How come Chuck never found anything?"

"Because Chuck never challenged the investigation itself. He never bothered looking at the fact of Lindsey's link to the union. Then he would have found out that his father had been killed by them."

"Jazz, who hired you to look into Bill Roberts' disappearance?"

"Dad, I can't disclose that information."

"I suggest that you refund your client's money, because this is one case that you definitely do not want to get involved with."

## Chapter Thirteen

I had been waiting for Chuck for over two hours. He should have been in his office at 9:00 and he still had not called in. I had a bad feeling that something had happened to him.

I asked the receptionist, "Is it normal for him to be late?"

The receptionist who was a thin woman in her mid-fifties with bleached blond hair with gray roots looked at me like I had said a swear word.

She said, "I have worked for him for five years and he has never been late. In fact, he has only called in sick three times."

"The times that he called in sick, when he did call?"

"It was early in the morning around six."

I looked at the clock in the lobby. It was 11:15. Five more minutes and I was leaving.

I stared at the second hand of the clock and watched it move stroke by stroke. God, I was feeling sick.

Chuck still hadn't come in. It was 11:30.

I told the receptionist good-bye. I then jumped in my car and headed toward Morgan Hill where Chuck lived.

I pulled up at Chuck's complex. It was a collection of older townhouses that were painted the color of a dull brown and an off-color white. Except for a couple of small kids playing, it was almost deserted.

I knocked on the door of Chuck's complex and waited for a response. To my surprise, a skinny, frizzy, red-haired teenager with braces answered the door.

I smiled and said, "I am here to see Chuck Roberts."

"He's not here," the girl replied.

"Do you know where I can find him?"

"Why? Are you his girlfriend or something?"

"No. My name is Jasmine Myers and I am private investigator."

"Why are you investigating my uncle?"

"Look, I'm not investigating him. I just need to ask him a few questions about a note about his father."

"I don't know where he is."

"When is the last time you saw him?"

"Yesterday."

"What time yesterday?"

"Yesterday morning."

"He didn't come home last night?"

"Didn't I just tell you that." She snapped.

Her rudeness was getting on my nerves. Who did this teenage twit think she was?

I said, "Look, miss."

"It's Shannon."

"Shannon, I need to see your uncle as soon as possible."

"I told you I don't know where he is."

"Does he normally not return home at night?"

"I don't know."

"Why is that?"

"I don't know."

"You don't live here."

"Yeah, I do sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Whenever my Mom and her boyfriend throw me out, I stay with him."

"Shannon, the times that you do stay with him, does he normally come home at night?"

"Yeah."

"So it's not normal for him not to come home."

"No."

"Has he ever not come before when you stayed with him?"

She looked at me and slowly answered, "No. This is the only time. I figured he spent the night at his girlfriend's house or something."

"Does he have a girlfriend?"

"I don't know. That's his personal business."

"Does he have any children?"

"No. I know he wanted some, but he never had any. He's too old to have them now. Why are you asking me all these questions?"

"I was just curious."

"Do you like him or something?"

"I told you I am a private investigator."

"Well, my uncle likes black women."

"He does?"

"Yeah, both of his wives were black. One of them looked sort of like you except she had a lot bigger boobs and really long hair."

So, there was a lookalike version of me with silicon breasts and a weave. So what? I was satisfied with my flat chest and my hair that won't grow past the back of my neck. I don't know why I was tripping on some teenage twit's comments.

I said with an authoritative voice, "I am sure he has dated other women who are not black."

"Nope. He only goes for black women."

Damn, if this twit brained niece knew this, how many other people knew about Chuck's preference for black women. I decided to ask a question that I was afraid to ask.

"Do you know Kristal Woods?"

"Who?"

I showed her a picture of Kristal.

"Oh, she's a real pretty lady."

"Do you know her?"

"Not really."

"Shannon, you're telling me that you don't know her."

"I met her once."

"Where?"

"At the mall with my uncle."

"You and your uncle saw her at the mall."

"Yeah, we ran into her at the mall and my uncle introduced us."

"What did you think of her?"

"I don't know. She was alright."

"Was she your uncle's friend?"

"Maybe. I don't know. Maybe even his girlfriend."

"Did he tell you that?"

"Nah. But he acted real kind of dumb around her. It was weird like he liked her or something."

"But that doesn't mean that she was his girlfriend."

"Maybe not. But then why did he have a picture of her in his wallet?"

For God's sake, Kristal was a married woman. Did this man know what discretion meant?

"How do you know that?"

"Because when I was borrowing some money from him, I saw her picture in his wallet."

"He let you take money from his wallet?"

"He kind of didn't know about it. I needed a few dollars, so I got it from his wallet while he was asleep."

Ms. Teenage Twit was a petty thief. Why did Kristal give him a picture of herself? How stupid! My head was beginning to throb.

I swallowed hard and asked, "Does anyone know about the picture?"

"I don't know."

If this girl answered one more "I don't know," I was going to slap her. My head was ready to explode.

"You don't know. So, you never told anyone."

"Not exactly."

"Did you tell somebody?"

"Yeah."

"Who?"

"My best friend."

"Sonya."

"Sonya. What's her last name?"

"Britton."

"Is she related to the Mayor?" God, please tell me that she's not.

"Yeah, she's Sonya's grandmother."

"Did you tell Sonya the name of the lady in your uncle's wallet."

"Yeah, I did."

"What did you tell her?"

"I told Sonya my uncle was seeing Kristal Woods."

Shit. Goddamn it. This case was really getting on my nerves. The Mayor probably knew about Kristal and Chuck. When that shit comes out, Kristal had better start preparing herself for the death penalty.

"Okay, Shannon. Can I ask you a favor?"

"Yeah."

"Tell your uncle, I came by."

"Sure."

I handed her my card knowing that she would not give it to Chuck.

I left and headed toward Half Moon Bay.

* * *

When I got to Kristal and Chuck's place, I was shocked to find the door opened. I knocked several times, but nobody answered. I entered the place and found that it was trashed with broken bottles, clothes, and papers thrown everywhere in the living room.

I walked into the bathroom and found the cabinet had been smashed in and pills were thrown into the sink. Next to the pills, there was a note scrawled with the words: Your bitch is going to pay and so are you.

Shit, had they gotten to him? Was Chuck still alive? I looked at the hallway leading into the bedroom and I was afraid of what I might find.

I was about to walk into the hallway, when I heard a knock. I needed to leave. But how? I looked for a back door and there was none.

I spotted a window in the bathroom, but it was too small even for me to fit through. Damn. What was I going to do?

I wish I had my gun. I had given up carrying years ago after I almost accidentally shot myself in my leg. God knows how clumsy I was. So it just didn't make sense for me to have a gun.

I decided I would approach whoever the knocker was. I took a deep breath and walked toward the door. To my surprise, an older Asian cop was standing at the front door.

He said, "I am looking for Chuck Roberts."

"I'm sorry sir. I don't know where he is."

"Who are you?"

"I'm a private investigator. My name is Jasmine Myers." I flashed him my ID.

"You're Lt. Myers' daughter, aren't you?"

"Yeah, he's my father."

"That's interesting. Why are you here?"

"I am looking for Chuck Roberts."

"Why?"

"I can't disclose that. It's confidential."

"Does it have anything to do with Kristal Woods?"

"I am sorry. I cannot disclose that."

"Ms. Myers, if you do find Chuck Roberts, can you tell him that we are looking for him also?"

"What for?"

"This morning a warrant was issued for his arrest in the connection with the murders of Ralph Woods, Richard Carpenter, and Dan Fulton."

"On what grounds?"

"On the grounds that he and his lover Kristal Woods murdered her husband Ralph Woods and then covered it up with the murders of Richard Carpenter and Dan Fulton."

"On what evidence?"

"There is plenty of evidence beginning with the declaration of Mayor Britton."

Shit, the Mayor did know about Kristal and Chuck. I swallowed hard and said, "That's all circumstantial."

"Maybe it is and maybe it isn't. But your father Lt. Myers doesn't think so."

"Did you find anything?"

He looked at the ground and said, "You mean from our search of the house?"

God, he was irritating. I said, "Yeah."

"I can't reveal anything. If you want information, I suggest you give your father a call."

"Officer, did you find something?"

"Look, I'm not at liberty to say anything."

I said coldly, "Thank you for your help."

He said, "Ms. Myers, I want to remind you that it is a felony to harbor a fugitive."

I began to get irate. I said, "Look, I know what the law is and I will follow it."

"It's been a pleasure meeting you. And good luck with your search. Don't forget about that arrest warrant."

I gritted my teeth and said, "I won't officer."

The officer then left. I thought about retrieving the note, but I decided to leave it. Probably one of the cops who searched the apartment had left it.

But how did the police know about the apartment? Both Chuck and Kristal told me that no one knew about the apartment. Unless Chuck had slipped and told somebody. After all, he hadn't been really discreet with carrying Kristal's picture. He could have written the address down and someone had found it.

Then again, someone might be following me. Which didn't make sense, because I hadn't seen anyone tailing me. Besides the police had gotten to the apartment before I had. So that theory made no sense.

If they weren't following me, maybe I was being bugged. When I saw Kristal, it was in jail. And when I saw George Stone, it was at the Fire Department. I stared at my briefcase. Someone could have planted a bug in my briefcase. I know that it sounded paranoid, but Dad had warned me not to investigate Bill Roberts. The San Jose Fire Department or someone connected to the department might have bugged me.

Years ago, I had been bugged when I was investigating the death of a local FBI's agent. So I knew where to go to confirm my suspicions.

* * *

I knocked on the door several times before he answered. Raul Vasquez was a tall, older man of Mexican and African-American descent. His salt and pepper hair was thick and his face was chiseled like an Aztec god. Even in his early sixties, he was a striking man.

Raul smiled and said, "Hi Jasmine, come in."

He took me inside his office. On the wall behind his desk hung a picture of his late father Ricardo Vasquez who was the first Latino Lieutenant with the San Jose Police Department.

Raul had followed in his father's footsteps and done a brief stint with the SJPD. Later, he joined the FBI and rose up the ranks until he retired a few years ago. He was now a specialist in surveillance techniques.

"Raul, I am working on a case and I need your help."

"What is it?"

I pointed at my briefcase and scribbled a note saying- "I think it is bugged. Can you check it out for me?" I emptied out the contents of my briefcase on his desk.

With Raul's trained eye, he quickly scanned everything. He shook his head and wrote, "Nothing here."

I wrote back, "There has to be something."

He took my briefcase and inspected it with transmitter detector. He scanned each zippered part and the lining. He still found nothing. He inspected the handle to the briefcase and the transmitter detector beeped. He took out a penknife and pulled out an electronic device that was less than a quarter inch long.

He wrote, "Here's your culprit." He pulled out a spring that deactivated the device.

Raul said, "Jasmine, why would anyone place a bug on you?"

"I'm investigating the deaths of three firefighters."

"Isn't the wife of one of the firefighters been charged?"

"Yeah, but I don't think she did it. The day before her husband was killed, he gave a note to their minister to contact Bill Roberts."

"Who is Bill Roberts?"

"He was the former mayor of San Jose and he disappeared over twenty years ago."

"Oh, that Bill Roberts."

"Anyway, my Dad told me that I should stop investigating Bill Roberts or I could get hurt. I believe somehow the deaths of Bill Roberts and the firefighters are all connected."

"Jasmine, how do you even know the former Mayor is the right Bill Roberts?"

"I have a feeling that he is the right one. Can you tell me anything about the bug?"

"This bug is not very sophisticated. It's not currently used by law enforcement agencies. It was used about eight or nine years ago, but no one uses it nowadays."

"Raul, are saying that a police officer bugged me?"

"I am not saying that. This is such old technology that you probably could order it from a magazine or pick it up from a surveillance shop. It's a dinosaur."

"There's no way you can tell where it came from."

"No, not at this point. But I think we also should check out your phone at your office."

"Are you free now?"

"Sure, I have an hour to spare. I will follow you in my car."

We drove to my office. Raul inspected my phone with the transmitter and found nothing.

"Jasmine, everything looks clean. We should also check out your house phone as well."

* * *

At my home, Raul inspected both my house and cell phones with the transmitter and found nothing.

"Jasmine I didn't find anything. But I can tell you that whoever placed the bug in your briefcase knows that you take it everywhere with you. My guess is that the bug was planted by someone you know. It could be a friend, a former client or someone on the police force you worked with. It's not an internal tap, because standard operating procedure for surveillance would include a basic phone tap. But there is none."

I knew in my heart, it couldn't be a client or friend. That would leave the police. I had worked with a number of cops over the years. It was no secret that I carried my briefcase everywhere I went. And with Chief Lindsey possibly involved with the union cover up of Bill Roberts' disappearance, he could have ordered someone to bug me with a device that could not be traced back to him.

Maybe I was getting into this too deep. And who knows what would happen once they discovered the bug had been deactivated.

I asked, "Can you reactivate the bug?"

"What for?"

"I don't want them finding out that I know about it."

"Okay. But where are you going to put it?"

"I will find a place."

I handed him the bug and he put the spring back in place.

"Thanks for your help."

"Anytime for the lady who found my wife's murderer."

After he left, I went into my kitchen and found a small plastic bag and placed the bug inside it. I then went to my garage and placed it inside an empty trashcan. It should be safe for now.

## Chapter Fourteen

I waited for James in his lobby for a few minutes. James greeted me and led me back to his office. "What's up Jasmine?"

"I found a bug in my briefcase."

His eyes got big and he said, "A what?"

"A bug. Someone has been watching me. I think it is related to the case. Either the San Jose Police Department or someone connected to the San Jose Fire Union. Over twenty years ago, Bill Roberts who was the Mayor of San Jose disappeared. The San Jose Fire Union was investigated and everybody was cleared. His son is currently the Assistant Fire Chief. The day before Ralph's death, Ralph gave his minister a note to contact Bill Roberts. My father later told me to stop investigating Bill Roberts or I could be hurt. Apparently, the police chief was the chief investigating officer assigned to Bill Roberts' case. To reopen this case could mean hell for him and the union. I think either the Chief or the Fire Union ordered someone to bug me."

"What does this have to do with the firefighters' deaths?"

"I don't know."

"Jasmine, I don't see the connection. Anyway, how do you know this is the right Bill Roberts?"

"I don't. But who else could it be?"

"That's not good enough. Nothing you told me clears Kristal. She may be facing the death penalty and we need more. For all we know that a former client bugged you or some cop is pissed off with you. We need a lot more evidence."

"I think that when Ralph started investigating Bill Roberts' disappearance, he was coming close to the truth."

"Then why were the Chief and Dan Fulton killed?"

"They might have known too much."

"If that were the case, they would have been killed years ago."

"Maybe they learned about everything recently."

"That may make sense for the Chief. But that doesn't make sense that Ralph who is the President of the Black Firefighters would be communicating with Dan Fulton who is a known racist."

"I hear what you're saying. But still . . ."

"Jasmine, I think you're wrong about this Bill Roberts thing. Why would Ralph or the Chief open up an old investigation?"

"I don't know."

"Well, we need answers. We need to show that these murderers are all connected and not by some twenty-year old disappearance."

"But we have no other leads."

"Jasmine, unless we find other evidence that exonerates Kristal, she'll be found guilty. My job is to make sure that she won't get the death penalty and she'll get a life sentence. And if we are lucky, she will walk if we find the evidence that we need. But right now, the odds are against us."

I couldn't believe that he had already labeled Kristal a murderer. I said, "James, how could you say that? All they have is circumstantial evidence. Besides you managed to get the jury to exonerate the white firefighter who killed the African-American Coalition vice president."

"That was a different case with different facts. There's no comparison. And in our case, Kristal has made a lot of mistakes. First getting involved with Chuck. That alone provides a motive. Because you know, in a love triangle, it's the cheating spouse and the lover who kill the spouse off. And it doesn't help that Chuck hasn't turned himself in.

"And even you discount their affair; you have Kristal's money problems. And if someone can corroborate that Ralph was going to leave her because he knew about the affair, there is a motive right there. In fact, all the D.A. has to argue is that Bill Roberts was a code name for Chuck Roberts and the note to the minister meant that Ralph was going to leave Kristal. And like I said before the killing of Dan doesn't help matters."

"But they don't have the note."

"The D.A. knows about it. Because she called me and told me that she had heard about it. You know they have to disclose all evidence."

"She probably learned about it from the bug."

"I don't know about that. She told me that she heard about from the Mayor's granddaughter."

Damn, I never should have told Chuck's niece anything. Shit, how could I make such a stupid mistake? I swallowed hard and decided to switch the subject. I said, "It seems that there is too much damn publicity in this case. There's no way that Kristal can get a fair trial. Why don't you move the case to another county?"

"I thought about moving the case to Oakland. Chances are that we would get at least a half dozen blacks on the jury. But that doesn't guarantee anything. You know how our people are. The brothers would probably resent Kristal for her cheating on her husband with a white man and want to punish her. And as for the sisters, they would use her good hair against her and want to punish her for the way she looks. And they would resent the fact that not only did she have a good black man but also, she had a white boy on the side. Oakland wouldn't do her any better."

"Keith, you're saying there's no hope."

"What I am saying we need to find something that will clear her. If Kristal is not the murderer, we must find out who is. As I told you before, I don't think Bill Roberts' disappearance is the answer, but you're free to look into it. The more I think about it; the bug might not be a coincidence. At this point, I don't know what to think."

I was struck by his honesty. He was a man who wasn't into bullshit and that turned me on. I couldn't help looking at his hands and wondering how they would feel stroking my body. I wanted to stop feeling this way about this man. But the truth was I couldn't, because I wanted him.

"Keith, I hear what you're saying. I will continue on with my investigation."

"Let me know what you find."

God knows I wanted to ask James out. Why can't I just say it? How hard is it to say how about coffee? God, give me strength and please don't let him say "no." With all my courage I turned to James and said, "There is one thing else."

"What?"

I felt my voice to begin to shake. I said, "I was wondering if we could get a cup of coffee some time?"

James stared into my eyes and said, "I don't drink coffee."

I felt my body shrinking. I felt like a fool. Why had I listened to Sheila? This man was not even attracted to me.

James smiled and said, "Jasmine, I do drink tea. How about we get a cup tomorrow around three."

Yippee! Oh my God, I can't believe it. I don't know where this is going, but he said "yes."

I smiled at him and said, "Sure tomorrow at three."

* * *

We met for tea and then lunch for the rest of the week. James asked me out to dinner for Saturday. I called Sheila to tell her the good news.

"Hey Sheila, guess who I have date with for tomorrow night?"

"James Colby Attorney at Law."

"You got it."

"Girl, we need to go shopping and get your hair done."

"It's only a date."

"And when is the last time you have gone out? Don't even answer that because I don't want you to get depressed."

"Okay, maybe I will go shopping tomorrow."

"Maybe? There is no maybe to it. I'll be at your house at nine. I am your personal shopper."

"Alright."

"By the way, have you made any progress on Kristal's case?"

I could have lied and told her that I had found new evidence. But the truth was I was at dead end. I said, "No, I haven't found anything new. But I know that something will turn up."

"Jazz, I have to get back to work. But I'll see you in the morning."

* * *

Sheila arrived promptly at 9:00 and took me to Darlene's Beauty Shop. She winked at me, "Now girl, you know how hard it is to get an appointment on a Saturday. I had to pull a few strings. So you better come out looking helluva good."

By the time Darlene was done with me, Sheila beamed at me and said, "God, she has done a great job with your hair. You are looking fine."

We went to the mall to shop for a dress. My heart was set on a knee length tailored navy-blue dress.

Sheila turned up her nose at the dress and said, "Now this dress is not going to work. You need to show off those nice long lean legs of yours."

Sheila picked out a black strapless mini dress that said, "look at me."

"Sheila, I can't wear that."

"Yes, you can. And with your legs, James will go crazy."

"But there is not a whole lot to this dress. Hell, I have seen more material on a bathing suit."

"Jasmine, you need to get over your old maid way of thinking. With your slim body and long legs, this dress was made for you."

I protested, "But James will think that I am easy."

"No, he won't. He'll just want to ease you out of this dress."

"Sheila, I am not going to sleep with him." Well, at least not tonight.

"Jazz, you don't fool me. Every time you talk about James, I see the animal lust in your eyes. You just wanna rip his clothes off. Don't you?"

I blushed and said, "I'm not answering that."

"Sounds like James trained you to take the fifth."

I said nothing. Sheila continued, "I just can't wait to hear the details."

"There will be nothing to tell."

"Yeah right. Anyway, girlfriend you are getting this dress. All we need to do is to pick up a couple of things at the make-up counter and we are through.

I bought the dress, picked up bronze eye shadow, blush and mascara. Sheila wanted me to get ruby red lipstick. I reminded her that I couldn't wear lipstick.

"Then get cherry flavored lip gloss."

"Why cherry flavored?"

"Because James is gonna be busting your cherry that grew back because you haven't had any in over a year."

"Shut up Sheila. I'm buying the non-flavored lip gloss, because I am not getting any tonight."

After we made the purchase of the non-flavored lip gloss, we drove back to my house.

Sheila waited while I showered, got dressed, and did my make-up. When I came out, Sheila shouted, "Goddamn I've created a masterpiece. James is going to thank me. I'm taking off. Give me a call tomorrow and tell me everything."

I hugged Sheila and waited for James.

When I greeted James at my door, his eyes got big and he said, "Jasmine, you look absolutely amazing."

We went to dinner and a play in Oakland. It was wonderful. We drove back to San Jose.

James walked me to my door and stroked my face. He gently kissed me. He said, "Jasmine, I should get going. I'll see you next week."

See him next week? I didn't want to wait that long.

I said, "James, why don't you come in so we can talk a few minutes." Of course, I knew if he accepted my invitation, the last thing we would be doing was talking.

He looked straight into my eyes and said, "Are you sure that you want me to come in?"

I wanted to scream that I wanted him and I had wanted to make love to him since the first day I went to his office. I wanted to tell him that I couldn't stop fantasying about him and my body was consumed with desire.

But instead, I said, "James, I am sure."

When we walked inside, James started to kiss me. We must have kissed for about twenty or thirty minutes. It felt so good. My body was on fire. My nipples were hard and I was wet with desire.

James took my hand and led me into my bedroom and sat me on the bed.

I unbuttoned his shirt. James' chest and abs were chiseled to perfection. He skillfully removed my dress. He unhooked my bra and stared at my 34A breasts. He whispered, "They're beautiful and firm. Just like I imagined."

He began to suck my right nipple like it was a lollipop. After it was satisfied, he moved onto my left nipple and sucked it until I cried out his name.

James went down to my stomach and kissed it. He touched me through my panties that were drenched with desire. He slipped my panties off and removed his pants and underwear.

His thighs were thick and well- muscled and his ass- all I can say is what an ass. James had a beautiful body. And yes, the Lord had blessed him in every respect.

James began to kiss me between my thighs and he buried his head between my legs and started to lick my jewel like it was ice cream and stroked my nipples. Goddamn, this man was good. He was better than Eric had been. My body began to tremble as I exploded and screamed his name. And then, he continued to lick me and I came again, again and again. Four times. I was in heaven.

James stroked my face and said, "How are you feeling?"

He just made me come four times in a row and he wants to know how I feel. No one had done that before. Goddamn fantastic. All I wanted to do now was to pleasure him.

I said, "Really good." I started to stroke him.

He whispered, "I have something to tell you."

I said, "Baby, you don't need to say anything." I kissed him and stroked him even harder.

He pulled his head away from me and he said, "Jasmine, we need to talk."

I felt my desire growing again and I was flowing like a river. The last thing I wanted to do was talk. I wanted him inside me-now.

"Baby, we don't need to talk right now."

"Jasmine, it's important."

God, what is it? I hope he doesn't tell me some bullshit like he loves me. He may have made me come four times in a row, but love was too soon for me. I mean we have only known each other for a short time and probably, what we have is pure animal magnetism. I haven't felt like this with anyone since Eric. And unlike Eric, this might turn into something permanent. I mean James had everything. He's an accomplished attorney, brilliant, financially secure, gorgeous, and a fantastic lover. What else could a woman ask for?

And you know what? Since we have been dating, I have not craved a drink. James could be the answer to everything.

I sighed and said, "Okay, James what is it?"

James took a deep breath and said, "Jazz, I have herpes."

Herpes! Goddamn! This beautiful and honorable man has herpes? How could he have such a filthy disease? No, this must be a lie. There's no way he can have it.

"Jasmine, I got it three years ago. My last outbreak was a little over six months ago. If we use a condom, you won't get it."

Condom-outbreaks. I expected him to use a condom anyway. This was the year 2005. With AIDS, you had to be careful. Herpes wasn't like AIDS, but who wanted to take a chance with getting a lifelong sentence of sores on their genitals? I'm sorry but I wasn't interested in playing Russian roulette with my sexual health.

And besides, I wanted to have a child. I know that herpes doesn't prevent you from getting pregnant. But what if I contracted it from James and things didn't work out. What was I going to tell a future partner whom I might marry? I just couldn't see telling him I had herpes and I wanted to have a child so he'd might get it. Would that be fair? And what man would want a woman with this disease? He probably would think that I was a slut or something worse.

The truth is I am ignorant about the disease. I mean a lot of people have it. Right? Wasn't there a study that said 1 of 5 Americans has it and a lot of us don't even know we have it. But I knew I didn't have it. A year and half ago, I had a STD check after the condom broke with someone I had been with. I probably never should have been with that man in the first place. No, it wasn't like he was married or anything like that. Brian had been a client and I had made the mistake of getting involved with him. In the end, he refused to pay my fee and I had to take a loss.

But Brian had given me something- a case of chlamydia. Okay, I lied about the condom breaking. That's the lie that I told my OB/GYN. The truth is that after a few times of hearing that he couldn't feel it, I gave in. Stupid-right? Well, I didn't think that at the time, because Brian told me that he had no diseases. And like a fool, I believed him.

I then got a strange looking discharge. I went to my OB/GYN and lied about how I got it, because I was too embarrassed to let her know that I didn't practice safe sex.

Before being with Brian, I never had a sexually transmitted disease in my life. The thing that bothered me the most was that Brian hadn't been up front with me. But a decent human being would never give another a sexually transmitted disease. Of course, Brian wasn't a decent human being. After being with him, I decided that I would wait for someone who was. I had been waiting for a year and half for that person and look what I wound up with- a man who had another filthy disease.

I pulled away from James.

James looked me in my eyes and said, "Jasmine, if I use a condom, you won't catch it. I promise."

A part of me felt sorry for him. He had just given me the best sexual experience in my life. He also had leveled with me about having herpes. He could have not told me. Maybe I should give into him and take a chance. I mean if we use a condom, I guess the chances of getting it are very low.

But my body was screaming "no." I had dried up and I had no desire to be with him. No, I couldn't go through with it.

I said, "James, you're a special man. I need some time to think." That was a lie, because I knew that I could never have sexual intercourse with him. I just couldn't be with him.

He dressed himself and handed me my clothes. He kissed me lightly and said, "Take all the time you need. I'll be waiting."

He walked out my bedroom and into the living room and said, "I know you'll change your mind."

James then left.

I wanted to run after him and say I wouldn't change my mind and he should find someone else. Someone who was more liberal than I was. Someone who didn't want children and someone who would love him the way he deserved. I knew that I would never be that someone.

I felt the urge to drink so I could relax. But I knew a drink wouldn't be worth it, because I just couldn't stop at one. I had been sober for 152 days and a failed date was not going to make me drink again. It just wasn't worth it. Besides I didn't want to wake up with a hangover. I hated that feeling.

I then took a hot shower and went to bed.

* * *

Some fool was calling me at six in the morning on a Sunday. Whoever it was, I was going to cuss them out.

I groggily answered the phone and said, "Hello."

"Jasmine, is he there?" It was Sheila. She was so nosey.

"Sheila, why are you calling me so early?"

"To see how you feel."

"How do I feel?"

"You did get some. Didn't you?"

Did oral sex qualify as getting some? According to a lot of folks, it didn't. So why should I say yes? Besides if I did tell her, she was liable to spread my business.

"No, nothing happened."

"What? You all went to dinner. You wore that sexy black dress and nothing happened. Is something wrong with him like he's not into women?"

"No the man is fine."

"You got that right. Is his dick too little?"

"Damn girl. What is your problem?"

"How come you didn't get any? I know you wanted it. Hell, it's been so long, there are probably cobwebs up there."

"I don't go for every man who I go out with. We just don't have chemistry." Which was true, because after James told me he had herpes I was turned off.

"There must be something wrong with him."

No way, could I tell her about the herpes. That was James' business. I wasn't into gossip and hurting people.

"We are just not compatible. End of story."

"I've never met a man that I wasn't compatible with."

"Yeah, that's you. Anyway, how's Kevin?"

"Kevin?"

"You know the mixed dude you picked up at the Brick House."

"Oh him. Girl, he is history. He wanted me to meet his mama. I told him that he had to go."

I chuckled, "Sheila, I would like to go back to sleep."

"Okay, you can go back to sleep if you do me a favor."

"What?"

"The next time you go out with a fine brother who has intelligence, money and integrity, give him some. Just do it for me."

"Sure Sheila." Along as he is STD free.

I hung up the phone and went back to sleep to dream about Mr. Right who was STD free.

## Chapter Fifteen

It was Sunday morning and I was tired as hell from the night before. My head was throbbing from the lack of sleep. I went into the bathroom and looked at my laundry basket that was filled to the brim. God, I hated doing laundry. I know I should do laundry at least once a week. But hell the truth was that I was lucky if I did it twice a month. Which meant that I had a month supply of panties, bras, and linen.

When Keith and I were first married, we used to do it together at the laundry mat. It wasn't like it was romantic or anything like that; but it was a bonding experience.

After Keith and I divorced, I hated the feeling of doing laundry by myself. It was like reaffirming that I was alone and had no one.

Why am I babbling about laundry? Oh shit, Kristal's case. Ralph's note said, "Do laundry." How could I forget to follow up on that clue? I had spent too much time lusting about James and not focusing on the case. Now, that James was history, it was time for me to do my real job and save Kristal.

I took a quick shower, put lotion on my legs and arms and threw on pair of cotton shorts and a tee shirt. I then jumped into my car and headed to my favorite place- the women's jail.

* * *

Kristal's hair needed a good conditioning. It was totally limp and devoid of any shine. Her skin was ashy and she looked like she needed some rest.

I said, "Kristal, remember I told you about Ralph's note."

"Yeah, it said to contact Bill Roberts. Did you find out any new information?"

"No, I haven't. But do you remember that the note saying to do laundry?"

"Yeah, I remember. I don't know why Ralph would write that down."

"Where did you and Ralph do your laundry?"

"Well, we had just bought a washer and dryer for our house."

"What about before that?"

"In the apartment where we lived, we had a built-in washer and dryer."

"Kristal, you and Ralph never took your laundry out?"

"Out?"

"Did you and Ralph ever go to a laundromat?"

"Before we got married, I used to help Ralph with his laundry. Back then, Ralph lived in a duplex on the Eastside and he didn't have a washing machine. We used to do his laundry at the Good Times Laundromat. But that was over three years ago. I don't know what that has to do with the case."

"I don't know either. But I am going to check it out and let you know what happens. Where is Good Times Laundromat?"

"At King and Story."

King and Story was San Jose's heartland of poverty, drive by shootings and drug deals. Cops hung at the street corners just waiting to bust somebody. To call the laundromat "Good Times" in that neighborhood was like calling a murderer a saint. Like everything else in this case, it made no sense.

* * *

I brought my shit load of clothes to Good Times Laundromat so I wouldn't look suspicious. It was packed with mostly Mexican and Vietnamese immigrants. There were a couple of white folks who looked out of place. And to my surprise, there was a tall, light skinned anorexic looking African-American woman who was in her late thirties. Her eyes were lifeless and her teeth were a dull yellow.

I approached her and said, "Hi, I was wondering if you could tell me about the history of this place."

The woman looked at me like I had said something stupid.

She cleared her thought and said, "There ain't no history to this place."

I asked, "Do you know who the owner of this place is?"

"The owner? Girl, why are you askin' so many questions? Are you a cop?"

"No, I'm not. I was just kind of curious."

"Well, you look like a plainclothes cop."

"I'm not a cop. I'm a private investigator."

"Are you investigating the owner?"

"No, I'm not. I was just told to contact her."

"Why?"

"Look, I can't reveal that. Now, if you have the information, can you tell me?"

"Girl, I'm not into helping folks for free."

"How about twenty bucks?"

"Shit, twenty bucks ain't gonna do shit for me. I got me a couple of kids to feed."

"Then, how about fifty?"

"Nah, that ain't nothin' either. You have to do a lot better than that."

A Mexican woman in her late fifties walked up to me and said, "I am the owner. Lynette, stop scamming on her."

Lynette turned to the woman and said, "Josie, I was just to score me some dead presidents."

"Yeah, then you would drink it all away. It ain't like you would be using it for your kids."

"You know that the county took 'em way. But I am working to get 'em back."

"Well, that ain't happenin' no time soon."

"Josie, I'm gonna prove you wrong." Lynette then gathered her laundry into a laundry basket and walked to a battered old Toyota. She waved good-bye and left.

I turned to Josie and said, "I was wondering if I could talk to you few minutes."

"Who are you again?"

"My name is Jasmine Myers and I am private investigator. I'm investigating the death of Ralph Woods."

"I'm Josie Santos. Ralph was a good man. I have known him since he was a student at San Jose State. It's too bad that he wound up with that woman who killed him."

"Did you know her?"

"You mean Kristal. Yeah, she used to come here sometimes with Ralph. She seemed like a nice girl, but these days you never know."

"Do you know who Bill Roberts is?"

"Bill Roberts? You mean the former Mayor of San Jose."

I said, "Yeah, that's the same one."

"Yes, I knew him. He was a good man like Ralph. They never found them."

"What do you think happened to him?"

"He was killed by them."

"By who?"

"You know the union."

"But they were never charged."

"Yeah, that's because people got paid off."

"Like who?"

"I don't want to name people, but there is one cop who is now the Fire Chief."

"You mean Melvin Grady."

"He was crooked as they come."

"Like how?"

"He was just crooked. You know how he left the police department."

"No, I don't."

"Melvin Grady was found selling drugs and they asked him to resign."

"He was a drug dealer?"

"Yeah, you know those big drug busts, he was selling confiscated cocaine on the side."

"Why wasn't he arrested?"

"This is the San Jose Police Department. This ain't no fairyland. He threatened to expose a few other cops who were doing the same thing and they decided not to prosecute."

"Like who was he going to expose?"

"Like those with the ranks of Lieutenant and higher."

"Do you have any proof?"

"Yeah, I got proof. My son used to buy cocaine all the time from Melvin Grady and his posse."

"So where is your son now?"

"He OD'd a few years ago."

"Sorry to hear about that. Do you know anyone else who knew about Melvin Grady?"

"People knew about him."

"Can you name at least one person?"

"Names don't matter. My son knew and that was good enough for me."

"What about Lynette?"

"No, she ain't no drug addict. She's a drunk who don't know when to stop drinking."

"Is there anyone else who knew about Melvin Grady's drug dealing?"

"I ain't naming no other people. My son was killed by him and that is a fact."

Great, the only witness is one dead junkie. Who knows what the truth really was. Maybe it was rumor and maybe it wasn't.

"So has Melvin Grady cleaned up his act?"

"Hell no. Once a criminal always a criminal."

"So, is he still selling?"

"Nah, nothing like that. He stopped doing that after they kicked him off the force."

"So, what is Grady doing now that is illegal?"

"I don't know. I just know whatever it is, it is some evil shit."

"Could he be clean?"

"Just like the devil."

* * *

Kristal smiled when she saw me.

I asked, "Do you know Josie Santos?"

"Josie, yeah I know her. She owns the Good Times Laundromat."

"What do you know about her?"

"She is pissed off with the police. She feels that they killed her son."

"Did they?"

"No, he was a drug addict. He overdosed on cocaine."

"Did she ever blame a particular officer?"

"Yeah, she did. Melvin Grady, but she had no proof. She claimed he was selling drugs to her son."

"Do you think there was merit to her claim?"

"No, I think her son was just talking shit and she bought it."

"Do you think Ralph was killed, because he somehow found proof that Melvin Grady used to be a drug dealer?"

"You know that rumor has been out there for years. But I doubt Ralph found anything to back it up."

"Do you think Melvin Grady had anything to with your husband's death?"

"Do you mean do I think Melvin Grady killed my husband? No, Grady doesn't have the killer instinct, but he might have ordered someone to do it. It just depends on what my husband found."

"Maybe we should ask the police to investigate Melvin Grady to see if he is somehow connected to the killings."

"The police hell no. No offense, but when I went to your father about my suspicions, all he did was turn it around and charge me with three murders. You should talk to Melvin Grady yourself."

* * *

I arrived promptly at Melvin Grady's office at 9:00 on Monday morning. He was not pleased to see me. He was a short, pudgy man in his late fifties with thinning gray hair and bad teeth. His lips were pencil thin and eyes were a light brown. To call him unattractive would be an understatement. He was far from that; he was downright homely.

I noticed a wedding band on his left hand. Whoever had married him, hadn't married him for his looks. So, he might have some redeeming qualities.

I said, "I am investigating the murders of Ralph Woods, Richard Carpenter and Dan Fulton."

He said, "The cops have already nabbed Kristal Woods and are looking for Chuck. It's just too bad what Chuck did."

I said, "I believe that Kristal and Chuck are both innocent and they are being framed for the murders by the real killer."

"If they didn't kill, who did?"

"I don't know, but I think it has something to do with you being promoted to Fire Chief."

"Lady, you're wasting your time. For anyone to kill over a promotion would be ridiculous."

"I don't think so."

"Yes, it is. If you had researched your facts properly, you would know that Richard Carpenter had applied for the position for Fire Chief in Oakland and when he had a choice between being the Fire Chief here or in Oakland, he chose Oakland. There was no conspiracy to get rid of him. If he would have accepted the job here, that would have been fine with me."

"I believe that Carpenter was about to expose something about your past and he was threatened that if that were exposed, his personal life would be exposed."

He stared at me hard and said, "I don't know what the hell you are talking about. I know nothing about Carpenter's personal life except he is dating that secretary of his. That's all I know. And that is not earth shattering, because everyone knows about their relationship."

Grady didn't know Carpenter had been gay. That was interesting. But then again, he could be lying.

I said, "What about the fact that you used to deal drugs when you were a cop?"

He glared at me and said, "I never sold drugs as a cop or in any other capacity either. You must have been talking to Josie. She is crazy and her son was one messed up junkie. If I had been selling drugs, they would have gone after me. They have gone after bad cops before, so I suggest you get your facts straight."

"Like who?"

"Like Victor Bonillo who used to sell crank like it was going out style. And then there was Wilber Crandell who had this arrangement with a pharmacist where he would sell prescription drugs to these socialites whose doctors refused to issue them prescriptions. Those guys were busted and they did time."

"When did this happen?"

"About seven or eight years ago for Victor and two years ago for Wilber."

"That wasn't too long ago. But I'm talking about twenty years ago when the San Jose Police Department used to let people get away with stuff."

"Lady, the San Jose PD doesn't let anyone get away with anything."

"Where were you on the night that Ralph died?"

"Who do you think you are, asking me these questions."

"Are you afraid to answer my question?"

"I was with my lovely wife in bed asleep." He pulled out his wife's picture from his wallet. Unless this picture was airbrushed, Grady's wife was beautiful. She was in her early thirties with long thick brown hair, green eyes and the face of a runway model.

He added, "If you don't believe me, ask her."

I wanted to ask, "How did you get her?" but I knew better than that. Instead, I said, "Where were you when Richard Carpenter died?"

"I was at a conference in Reno."

"Where were you when Dan Fulton died?"

"You gotta to be kidding asking about Dan. Dan was a close buddy. But for your information, I was right here when I got news that he died. It was horrible to learn about him."

"You and Dan were friends?"

He glared at me. "Didn't I just say that? Anyway, because of Kristal and Chuck, he is gone. It's a damn shame and they deserve everything including the death penalty."

"What is your wife's phone number?"

"I can't believe you want to talk to her."

"I need to verify your story."

"What you really should be doing is looking for Chuck. That sonabitch. He's the one."

"I don't need to be told what I should be doing. All I want her phone number. Or are you trying to hide something?"

Grady looked at me like he wanted to call me a bitch. Instead, he said, "My wife is a school teacher. She works at the same high school that Kristal teaches at. It's a small world, isn't it? I just didn't want the media to find out, because she doesn't need to go through the stress of this garbage."

"I won't let them know. Thanks for the information."

* * *

I met with Rebecca Grady during the noon hour at the high school. She was even better looking than her picture.

I introduced myself and said, "Do you know Kristal Woods?"

Rebecca said, "Yes, she's a teacher here. She teaches social studies. She and I are in the same department."

"What do you know about her?"

"She was married to Ralph and she loves kids and teaching. She also is really involved with the community."

"Did you and Kristal ever socialize?"

"You mean did we hang out together?"

"Yeah. Go out for drinks, coffee or whatever."

"Yes, we went out a few times. You know she is good person."

"Did she ever discuss anything personal?"

"Nothing really. Just the usual women's stuff. Before she met Ralph, she used to talk about how she wanted to get married and have kids."

"Anything else?"

"Just that she was upset with this one guy who had hurt her before she started seeing Ralph. She would never tell me his name. He was probably married or something, because she was so secretive."

Kristal had messed around with a married man when she was single. That was no surprise, because she had cheated on her husband.

"Did she ever talk about Chuck Roberts?"

"No. She never mentioned his name."

"How was her relationship with Ralph?"

"As a far as I know, she was happy. She was ecstatic when she found out she was pregnant. She practically announced it on the school's intercom."

"Do you think Kristal killed her husband?"

"I don't know. I mean Kristal is not a bad person. But then again, it could be possible. Anything is possible."

"Kristal could have killed Ralph and the others."

"No, I don't think she did it alone. Chuck was involved. So together, they could have done it."

"What do you know about Chuck Roberts?"

"I met him a couple times at different functions. But beyond that I don't know him."

"Is it possible that Chuck Roberts didn't kill anyone?"

"Look, I don't know. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. But if he didn't, why hasn't he turned himself in?"

"I'm going to ask you a personal question."

"Sure, go ahead."

"Where were you on the night that Ralph died?"

Rebecca's face turned ashen. She replied, "The night that Ralph died? That was two in the morning. I was at home in bed asleep."

"Do you have any witnesses?"

"Any witnesses? Who is going to witness me sleeping?"

"How about your husband?"

She looked at me in astonishment and acted like she didn't know what to say. She paused and said, "Oh yeah, he was there."

"Why did you have to think about it before answering?"

She turned red and said, "Because I had to remember that night. Sometimes Melvin has overnight conferences and sometimes I may have a teacher conference."

"A teacher conference at two in the morning?"

"Of course not. I just forgot the date that Ralph was killed. Now, if you excuse me, I have to get to my fourth period class."

She walked away.

Was she covering up for her husband? You would think that Grady would have called her and told her what to say. How could this woman be so transparent? She might be the key to everything.

* * *

Cindy Rodriguez sat me down in her office. She was the superintendent of the school district. Cindy was not pretty, but she was a handsome woman. She was barely five feet tall. She was slightly pudgy and wore her long curly hair in a bun. I had known Cindy since high school and one of her best qualities was that she never held back. She wasn't into bullshit. Men were too afraid to mess with her, because she was a powerful woman.

I said, "What do you know about Kristal Woods?"

Cindy said, "She is a damn good teacher with her kids. But with adults, she is totally different. It's like she has a split personality. She can be a class A bitch at times and she thinks she knows everything."

"Do you think she killed Ralph and the others?"

"Hell, no. She may pretend to be fierce and shit, but that is not really her. That is all an act so people won't get close to her."

"What do you think about Rebecca Grady?"

"You mean Miss Pom-Pom Queen. I don't know how that woman became a teacher; she is so dense at times. We must have hired her when there was affirmative action for beauty queens."

"How did she wind up with Melvin Grady?"

"Jazz, you don't know the story?"

"No, I never heard anything."

"Rebecca is the only child of Mark Lindsey."

"The Police Chief?"

"Yeah. Anyway, Mark Lindsey is really into power and he wanted his family to be the first family of San Jose. Well, he went ballistic when he found out that Rebecca was ready to marry a Latino cop. He went off on her and told her there was no way that she would ever marry one of those people and if she did, he would never speak to her again. Rebecca was such a weak ass bitch, she dropped her fiancé. Her father then arranged for her to go out with Melvin Grady."

"Melvin Grady must be at least twenty years older than her."

"He's twenty-six years older."

"Damn. He is way too old for her. I can't believe her father would set her up with him."

"Honey, it's all about power. Anyway, her father ordered her to marry Melvin. And because she was such the weakling she is, agreed to marry him."

"That's horrible."

"Yes, it is."

"What happened to her fiancé?"

"My brother Jerry, he is still around."

"Jerry used to date her."

"Yes. My brother has never been good at picking women."

"Let me ask you something, do you think Rebecca is faithful to her husband?"

"Melvin had prostate cancer a couple years ago and it left him impotent. So, it's not like he can do anything with anyone. And for Rebecca, it was a blessing."

I was tempted to say that for any woman it would be a blessing. Melvin was the kind of man that if you made love to him, you would definitely have to fantasize about someone else. Because if you didn't, you would be sick to your stomach.

Instead, I asked, "Why is that?"

"Before Rebecca met Melvin, there was a permanent bed for her at the women's clinic. Rebecca was so goddamn fertile if Rebecca looked at a man, she got pregnant. Almost every year, she would be knocked up by somebody. Of course, she would get it taken care of. And at the rate that she was going, she would had a goddamn Brady Bunch of kids."

"She didn't have any of her babies."

"No, she didn't want her Daddy to find out. Besides she wanted to maintain her size six figure."

"What was she using?"

"Shit, she flunked birth control 101. She wasn't using anything. Abortion was her form of birth control. She is one stupid bitch when it comes to taking care of her body."

"Is Rebecca messing around with anyone?"

"I know she is not messing with anyone, because she would have wound up pregnant again. Or Rebecca finally got smart and bought a shit load of morning after pills."

"Let me ask you this, why wouldn't she remember whether Melvin was sleeping beside her at two in the morning?"

"You mean on the night that Ralph was killed?"

"Yes, that night."

"I really don't know."

Damn, so it is possible that Melvin Grady could have switched Ralph's pills.

"What do you know about Melvin Grady's past?"

"What do you mean?"

"Has he ever been accused of anything?"

"Oh, you mean the drug dealing. Yeah, he used to. But he never got caught."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Josie Santos called the FBI on him about him selling drugs to her son. Initially, they wouldn't do anything. But when she told them about the house, they took the case."

"The house?"

"The man owns a two-million-dollar house in Los Altos Hills and a whole bunch of other property."

"And the Feds didn't nail his ass? There's no way that he could own that on a firefighter's salary."

"Not on a firefighter's salary, but he had the court papers to prove that he inherited a huge chunk of change from his grandfather back in the 80s. His grandfather was one of these recluse types and left over fifteen million dollars in his estate. Because Melvin's parents were dead and he was the only child, he got everything. So, the FBI dropped the case."

"What was his grandfather's name?"

"I think it was Russell Grady."

"Did he die here?"

"No, he lived in San Francisco. Why are you asking me about this?"

"I might want to check it out."

"Yeah, I figured that."

"Cindy, if Melvin is so rich why the hell is he a firefighter?"

"I have no idea. That's something you should ask him."

"Alright, I'll be in touch with you."

Did Melvin kill Ralph, Richard Carpenter, and Dan Fulton? It wasn't like he needed the Fire Chief's salary. On the other hand, he might be a power freak. The money wouldn't matter. Or maybe the drug dealing stuff was going to come out. But that didn't make sense either, because the FBI had exonerated him. But there was something about Melvin that I didn't trust. He was too cocky for my tastes and his wife as far I could tell was a fool.

* * *

When I got to the court, it was already 3:00. I looked through the microfiche and located the case number for Melvin's grandfather's file. Melvin's grandfather apparently had died back in 1983. I wrote down the information for the clerk who was a petite overweight woman in her late forties.

She said, "This is a very old case. It was closed out years ago. It's in storage. It will take a few days to get it if you want to wait that long."

"How can I expedite the process?"

"Ma'am, you can't. Now, do you want the case?"

"Sure. Can you tell me who the lawyer was on the case?"

"Ma'am, that information is on the microfiche. But I can check the computer for you."

The woman punched the case number into her computer and said, "Philip Meeks."

"I guess he does a lot of probate cases."

"No, I have never heard of him. But he might have been before my time."

"Do you have a phone number for him?"

"No, I suggest you contact the State Bar."

"Do you have their phone number?"

"It would be easier for you to do an online search for him."

"Do you have their web site address?"

"No, but you can find it."

I mumbled good-bye and left.

* * *

When I got to San Francisco Main Library, I logged onto the Internet. I found that Phillip Meeks was disbarred and his address was a PO box. That was just dandy. How the hell was I going to find this man? It wasn't like I could show up at his place and question him.

I looked up his PO Box. To my surprise, it was in downtown San Francisco. And that was walking distance.

* * *

I approached the postal worker at the counter. He was in his early fifties. He had a paunch and his teeth needed a good cleaning. His hair was in an outdated Afro style from the 80s.

I said, "Sir, I need the address of my former lawyer Phillip Meeks."

"Phillip Meeks, was your lawyer? What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything. He helped me out with my grandmother's estate."

"That brother wasn't no probate lawyer. All the man used to do was defend criminals from the prostitutes all the way up to the drug dealers. The man had a lot of money until he got caught."

"Caught doing what?"

"The FBI entrapped him for money laundering."

"So where is he now?"

"In the federal pen in Pleasanton. He was sentenced twenty years for money laundering along with possessing crack cocaine. Hell, if he had been white boy, they would have done nothing to him. No, lady, your lawyer is in prison if he really was your lawyer."

I said, "He was my brother's lawyer. I was too embarrassed to tell you."

"Don't be. We all have problems in our families. Some worse than others. What is your brother in for?"

"Selling crack. But the cops planted it on him."

"Yeah, that's what they all say. Was it Oakland cops?"

"No, San Jose."

"They're corrupt as hell. Your brother might be telling the truth. Anyway, he better find a new lawyer, 'cause Meeks ain't getting out no time soon."

* * *

Meeks was a man in his mid-sixties dressed in orange coveralls. His hair- what was left of it- was salt and pepper. He had at least a day's growth of beard. He was 6'6" and he looked like he could use at least 30 pounds to fill out his large frame. He was not a handsome man, but he was not bad looking either.

I sat behind the window separating us and said, "My name is Jasmine Myers and I am a private investigator. I am investigating the deaths of Richard Carpenter, Ralph Woods, and Dan Fulton."

"Those San Jose firefighters. I heard about them. But I don't know why you came out to see me."

"I was hoping you could give me some information about Melvin Grady."

"The name sounds familiar."

"He was a former client."

"He was? What was he charged with?"

"You probated his grandfather's estate."

"You got me mixed up with someone else. When I was practicing law, I mostly did criminal. That's what got me into trouble. But I never probated anyone's estate."

"Yes, you did. Back in 1983, you probated the estate of Russell Grady and that's how Melvin inherited over fifteen million dollars. The court records list your name as the attorney of record."

"Oh that case. I kind of remember it."

"Why would you as a criminal defense attorney represent Melvin in a fifteen million probate matter?"

"Look miss, so what if I probated the estate over twenty years ago. As an attorney, I had the right to handle any type of case. I really don't see the relevance."

"Did you know there were allegations that Melvin used be a drug dealer."

"Melvin, a drug dealer? He was a cop and an honest one. Anyway, if you have something on Melvin, you should go to the authorities. There is no way that I can help you."

"I think the probate was fabricated and he used it as a way to cover up the proceeds of his drug deals."

"You have a very creative imagination. The probate was real. Miss, you are just wasting your time."

"Aren't you in here for money laundering?"

"I was framed. I lost everything and my wife left me. My oldest son won't have anything to with me. He is a practicing D.A. My middle son can't hold a job and he has kids by four different women. And my daughter thank God, she didn't turn on me. She is the only one who sees me."

"What does she do?"

"She's a kindergarten teacher. She just got married to a brother who is a college professor, Keith Rawlings in San Jose. And they are expecting her first child."

Meeks was Loretta's father. Damn, I never would have guessed that her father was doing time in prison. And if I were a gossip, I would tell Sheila. But because I wasn't, I knew I wouldn't tell anyone.

"I'm happy for her."

"I'm glad she married a good black man."

I almost choked on his words that Keith was a good black man. I guess for someone who likes staying at home and waiting for him. But I wasn't the one.

I swallowed hard, "Well, I am glad she found somebody."

"Well she deserves it after what she's been through."

"You mean with you being in prison."

"More than that. My daughter used to be a kleptomaniac. You know take things without realizing it. She would just take small things like pencils and paper. Nothing major. Well, the church where she used to go to-Holy Baptist, the church deacon accused her of stealing money. My daughter isn't a thief. It wasn't until the Reverend stepped up to her defense, everything was dropped on the condition that she stop going there. It was really hard on her, because the church was really important to her. But now because she is married to Keith, she is going to a new church and she is doing really well now."

Loretta was a thief just like her daddy. Goddamn, so much for her facade of innocence. And she probably was still stealing from the church coffers.

I mumbled, "I'm sorry what your daughter had to go through."

"So am I."

"What's the status of your case?"

"The status. I'm here. All my appeals were denied."

"Mr. Meeks, there are three innocent people who are dead. I think Mr. Grady had them killed."

"There is no way that Grady would kill off anyone. That wasn't his style."

"What you mean it wasn't his style?"

"Like I said, Grady is no killer. I think you've been watching too many of those bad cop movies."

"Mr. Meeks, is it possible Grady laundered money to cover up the proceeds from the drug deals?"

"No, it's not. You are wasting your time. I suggest you go back to San Jose and do some real investigative work."

"Mr. Meeks, do you have any idea who killed the firefighters?"

"They already have the killer. Let's just hope that her attorney James Colby can outperform the D.A. Sandra Morales. She is damn good. We'll see what happens."

"It's been a pleasure meeting you."

"Likewise."

I then left. It pissed me off that Meeks wouldn't tell me anything. But why should he? He was a former criminal defense attorney and he would be a fool to admit to another money laundering charge. That could tack on another ten years to his prison sentence unless somehow, the U.S. Attorney's office would grant him immunity. But Meeks wasn't a narc. I doubted he would cut a deal.

And maybe, he was right. Why would Grady kill off the Chief, Ralph, and Dan? He had no motive. So that only left Kristal and Chuck.

## Chapter Sixteen

When I got to my office on Tuesday morning, there was a message from Kristal's mother. She said, "This is Betty Lawson. I heard my baby is being held for killing her husband and some other folks. She didn't do it. I need to see you as soon as possible. You probably know that I am in the mental hospital. Don't let that scare you. I won't hurt you or nothing. Just please come see me, because I have some information for you."

What assistance could a mentally ill woman give me? But then again, she didn't ramble on. Why didn't she leave the information on the answering machine? She probably thought the phone was tapped. Which is any other circumstance would mean that she was paranoid; but in this case, it was justified.

I was tempted to call her and tell her that I couldn't see her. But hell, I was at a dead end. Even a crazy lead was better than no lead.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, I was at the psych ward. I approached the nurse at the front desk and she told me that Kristal's mother was in room 133. She pressed the button to let me into the psych ward. It reeked of urine and I was beginning to feel nauseous. I had never been in a psych ward and I didn't like being there.

As I was walking toward Kristal's mother's room, I saw somebody who I thought looked familiar. He had his head facing the wall, so I couldn't see his face. His hair was in wild dreadlocks that were totally out of control. He was dressed in loose fitting drawstring pants and a pullover shirt.

He turned his face from the wall and looked me right in the eyes. My God, it was Eric. Shit, what the hell was he doing here?

I wanted to run away. My head started throbbing and all I could think about was throwing up. Eric needed a bath and his eyes were red and swollen.

"Do you remember me?" he asked.

Shit, did I remember him? How could I forget him? He was the first man that I had made love to and the first man who I had fallen in love with.

"Yes, I remember you Eric."

"Do you remember what you did to me?"

"What I did to you?"

"You know what you did. You wouldn't give me the money for my rent."

"Look, Eric I wasn't responsible for you."

"You weren't responsible for me. You are just like my mother; she wouldn't help me either. Nobody would help me. All of you are evil and you are going to pay for your sins."

"Eric, I'm sorry about the past."

"You're a sinner and the devil has taken over your soul. Because of your sins, you must beg for forgiveness. I am the angel of mercy."

Eric had totally lost it and he was scaring the hell out of me. "Eric, I really have to go. I am here to see somebody else."

"You are not here to see me? I am the angel of mercy. I am the only one who can save you."

"Eric, I have to go now."

He screamed, "You evil woman. You made me homeless. You destroyed me. And you must pay for your sins. Ask for forgiveness now."

"Eric, I have to go."

Eric turned to me and stood right in front of me and waved his hand in front of my face. He shouted, "I am the angel of mercy. You are a sinner. You must ask for forgiveness now. If you don't, your soul will be forever damned!"

"Eric, I have work to do. Please move."

"I will not move. Not until you ask for forgiveness."

I shouted, "Someone help me!"

Within a few seconds, three orderlies grabbed Eric and escorted him away.

Eric screamed, "You are the devil incarnate and you are condemned to hell forever."

I felt like his nasty scent was smothering me. I couldn't breathe. I wanted to crawl in the corner with a bottle of whiskey. It would save me from this craziness. I needed a drink now. And it was nowhere to be found. Goddamn it, this was a totally messed up situation.

Because I didn't have a drink, I needed to get out of here now. I definitely could not handle seeing Kristal's mother. Seeing one certified psycho was all that I could handle. I then turned to walk toward the entrance.

A woman placed her hand on me and said, "You must be Jasmine. I knew that you would come."

I turned around and looked at the woman. She was in early sixties and about sixty pounds overweight. Her hair was long and completely gray. Her eyes were lifeless and her skin was ashy. At one time, she might have been pretty and maybe even beautiful, but years of being institutionalized had taken a toll on her looks and body.

"I know that he scared you. But don't mind him. He thinks he is the angel of mercy and he does that to everyone."

"Do you mind if I ask what you are in here for?"

"I'm schizophrenic. Sometimes, I have these spells where I hear and see things."

"Can't that be controlled by medication?"

"It can be. But I sometimes I forget to take my medication. And I really can't cope with living out there. I have been here for a number of years, so I have gotten used to it. Why don't you come in my room so we can talk."?

She led me to her room. On the wall, there were childhood pictures of an overweight Kristal. There was Kristal's college graduation picture where she had slimmed down and newspaper articles about Kristal's accomplishments.

She said, "Kristal is a good girl. She has done a lot when you think about what she has gone through. You know that her daddy is in prison for murder."

I nodded.

She continued, "And I am in the psych ward. A lot people would have turned to drugs or given up on life. But not my Kristal, she has a fighting spirit. Jasmine, there's no way that my daughter would have killed anyone."

"What about her father? He killed before, right?"

"Kristal ain't her father. He made bad decisions in his life. That's like saying that Kristal is going to crack, because her Mama has. A lot of people are ignorant when it comes to things like that. I was hopin' you wasn't one of them."

"Ma'am, I want to be honest with you. All of the evidence is pointing to Kristal and her boyfriend Chuck."

"Now Jasmine, just because Kristal had a little somethin' on the side, don't mean that she killed her husband. The women in our family have always had a hard time concentratin' on one man at a time."

Shit, Kristal's mother was no better than Patrice. And that definitely did not help Kristal's case. What was James going to tell the jury- "Kristal is no different from her mother who used to cheat on her father. Oh, by the way, her mother is now in the psych ward and her father is in San Quentin for killing two people. But at least her mother never killed anybody." Gimme a break.

"Mrs. Lawson, you told me that you had some information that could help Kristal."

"Call me Betty, dear. There ain't no reason why we need to be formal and everything."

"Alright Betty, is there anything that you have that could clear Kristal?"

"I think the Mayor is on it. I don't trust that woman. I had a vision the other night about her."

Great, a woman in the psych ward hallucinated about the Mayor. How credible was that?

"Girl, I know what you're thinking. I ain't stupid. But most of the time, my visions are right. You need to follow up on my vision."

So now Kristal's mother has psychic powers. I decided to play along and asked, "What did you see in your vision?"

"The Mayor had this folder in her office with a bunch of names. Important people's names and there was one person that she didn't want anyone to know about her connection to. It was like the Mayor was afraid of someone finding out about her past or something."

"I am sure that the Mayor's opponents have investigated her and whatever information that they found about her, they would have put it out in the media."

"No, this information ain't political information. It was something really delicate. I don't know what it was. But I think whatever it is; it could help my daughter's case. You need to go get it."

"How am I going to get something from the Mayor's private files?"

"You're a detective. You figure it out."

"I'll see what I can do. I won't promise you anything."

"I know you think I am an old woman, who has lost her mind. But my vision was real. The Mayor is hiding something and you need to find out what it is."

"Okay, Betty. Like I said before, I'll see what I can do. If I find anything, I'll let you know."

"Thank you, Jasmine. I knew that I could count on you."

Should I follow up on this tip? My head was telling me that it was waste of time, but my gut was telling me that there might be something. Besides it was the only lead I had left to investigate in this dead-end case.

Hell, I could look into it. The worse thing was that I wouldn't find anything. And if I were lucky, I would find something linking Melvin Grady to the murders.

* * *

I had been waiting in the lobby of the Mayor's office for over an hour. Finally, a woman in her early forties with curly black hair beckoned me back into her office.

She said, "I am Sonya Bergman, Mayor Britton's chief of staff. What can I do for you?"

"I really need to speak with the Mayor."

"Sorry, she's unavailable today. She's available in three weeks from Thursday at 2:00. How about then?"

Three weeks. There was no way that I was going to wait that long.

"Ms. Bergman, I can't wait three weeks. I need to see her today. It's related to the deaths of the three firefighters. I think I know who killed them."

"So do I. It was Kristal Woods and Chuck Roberts. It's hard to believe that they did it. But I guess no one really knew them."

"Kristal and Chuck are innocent. It was someone else. And I need to speak with the Mayor personally about this."

The woman eyed me suspiciously and said, "Who killed them?"

"That's between me and the Mayor. If I don't see her, I think she will be terribly embarrassed later."

"Ms. Myers, I am the Mayor's number one confidant. You can tell me."

"Sorry, I can't do that."

"You will have to wait three weeks to see her."

This woman was really getting on my nerves. I said in an icy tone, "I see that you don't want to be cooperative. I'll just go to the media."

"Ms. Myers, let me check the Mayor's calendar again. I just found an opening. She will be out of a meeting in the next five minutes. I'll buzz her office and let her know that you are here."

I smiled and said, "Thank you for accommodating me." Bitch.

A couple of minutes later, the Mayor came out of her office.

She said, "Jasmine, it is so good see you."

I wanted to say, "You're full of shit." Instead, I said, "Yeah, it's good seeing you also."

The Mayor led me into her office and sat me down on a leather sofa.

"Jasmine, how's your father doing?"

"He's fine."

"Your father is doing a superb job for us. He has been able to successfully link Kristal Woods and her friend Chuck Roberts to the murders. Now, all we have to do is to find Chuck."

"Do you believe that Kristal killed them?"

"Kristal was like a daughter to me. I really thought I could change her life around. But I guess I wasn't able to. You know about her parents."

I decided to play innocent and said, "I don't know anything about her parents."

"Oh, I thought you knew. It's not like it is a secret. Kristal's father is in prison for killing two people and her mother is mentally ill. It's just too bad that she had to follow in her father's footsteps. I was hoping that she would be different."

"What about Chuck Roberts?"

"He just fell in love with the wrong woman. Sometimes love will make you do things that you shouldn't do. It's just too bad."

"I don't believe either Kristal or Chuck killed any of the firefighters."

"Jasmine, the evidence is overwhelming. It can't be anyone else."

"There is circumstantial evidence, but that doesn't mean that they did it. I definitely think it was someone else."

"Like who?"

"Like someone who is within the fire department."

"Chuck Roberts is a firefighter and he had motive and opportunity."

"No, not him. Someone who holds a lot higher rank than him. Someone whose life and career would be ruined if his criminal activities were exposed."

"Jasmine, if you know of criminal activities in the department, we will investigate thoroughly. We don't condone such behavior."

"Maybe your administration doesn't, but past administrations did."

"Jasmine, who killed the firefighters?"

"Mayor Britton, I don't think I have to name this person. You know who it is. And once I get all the evidence that I need, it will be given to the proper authorities."

"Jasmine, I have no idea who you are talking about. Just tell me his name."

"Mayor Britton, you are a very smart woman. It's not that hard to figure out what his name is."

"Jasmine, I suggest that you tell your father about this. He is the head of the homicide unit. You wouldn't want him to be embarrassed."

"Of course not. I will tell him when the time is right."

"You just do that. Now, I must get back to work so that I can prepare for a meeting that I have with Fire Chief Grady later today."

She then escorted me out of her office.

The Mayor obviously knew about whom I was talking about and yet she refused to yield any information. What was she hiding? And why was she hiding it? Was she somehow a part of Melvin Grady's drug dealing? The Mayor couldn't be that stupid. But then again, Mayor Marion Berry had smoked cocaine during his term in his office. So Mayor Britton might not be any smarter.

* * *

It was already past 10:00 at night, when I got back to City Hall. I needed to go into the Mayor's office to find out whether the information that Kristal's mother had told me was true.

I pushed the button to the six floor. When the doors opened, I saw an elderly female janitor in the lobby.

I said, "Hi, I need to pick up my purse that I left in the Mayor's office."

The janitor replied, "Lady, you need to come back in the morning. I can't let you in the office."

"Look, I really need my house keys. Without them, I can't get into my house."

"Lady, you should call a locksmith."

"I live on the Eastside. There ain't no locksmith who is gonna go to the Eastside at this time of night."

"Then you should stay in a hotel room."

"I can't do that either. My credit cards are in my purse and I only have $5.00 in cash. If I don't get my purse and my house keys, I am going to have to spend the night in my car."

"Why didn't you come back here earlier?"

"I've been at meetings all night and it wasn't until I got to my house I realized that I left my purse here."

"Lady, you could have left your purse at one of those meeting places."

"No, I already called the African-American Center where my meetings were and they didn't find anything."

"Can't you stay at someone's house?"

"No, I can't. My best friend is out of town. And it's not like I got a man or anything."

"You ain't got a man. You sound like the rest of the single black women in San Jose. There is just not enough of our men to go around."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. But I am still looking for that man who will rescue me and give me everything I need."

"We all are. Even me in my old age. But don't count on finding Prince Charming. I've been looking for him for years and all I found was a bunch of no good cheaters and liars."

"I definitely know what you mean. But can you help me out with getting me my purse?"

"Okay, this is against the rules, so don't tell nobody."

"Alright."

The janitor opened the door to the Mayor's office and followed me into the office.

God, I needed to get rid of this woman. There was no way that I could search the Mayor's office with her right next to me.

I said, "Thank you for help. I don't want to keep you from your work. There were a couple offices in the suite that I was in today."

The janitor peered at me, "Are you sure you'll be okay in here by yourself?"

"Yeah, I should be able to find the purse within a few minutes. Hopefully, they didn't turn it into the loss and found."

The janitor's face brightened and said, "Let me check down there to see if anything is down there. I'll be back in a few minutes." The janitor then left.

I walked into the Mayor's office. I had five minutes to go through everything. It seemed like an impossible task.

I opened the filing cabinet and glanced through the files quickly. I found nothing of relevance.

I tried to open the Mayor's desk. It was locked. I pulled out my lock pick and popped it. I opened the middle drawer. There were only pens and paper clips in it.

I pulled open the bottom drawer and found a thick file labeled confidential-community leaders. I pulled it out and there were sub-files of over a hundred leaders in the community including Kristal, Patrice, Ralph, and Keith.

I pulled out Ralph's file and there was only a statement that he was the President of the Black Firefighters and generally was a trustworthy person. In Kristal's file, there was nothing in it except articles relating to awards that she had received and a statement that she was a community activist. Patrice's file had a statement that said she was the leader of the community and she should be treated with respect.

Keith's file was the thickest file. There were no notes in the file. Instead, there were over fifty newspaper articles where Keith had been quoted in. There was also a clasped manila envelope labeled "Do not open until after death."

What the hell did that mean? I rechecked the envelope noticed that it was clasped shut but not sealed. I opened the clasp and pulled out a document and two photographs.

It was a birth certificate. On May 21, 1968, a baby boy Keith Sayers was born to Marion Sayers in Oakland. The box for the father of the child was marked unknown.

There was a photo of a young white woman with a light-skinned African-American baby. On the back of the picture, there were the words "Keith- my baby boy who I gave up for adoption." There was also a picture of the white women with a young African-American man. On the back, there were the words, "Keith's father-Terrance Clayton."

Shit, the Mayor was Keith's mother. Goddamn and she never told him. That was totally messed up.

And who was this Terrance Clayton? Was he still alive?

I felt that I had just intruded on Keith's privacy and I felt funny about it. I needed to make copies of the birth certificate and the photos, but there was no time.

I heard footsteps. Damn, the janitor was back. I quickly put the photos and birth certificate back into the envelope and re-clasped it. Then I put back it in Keith's file.

I put the file back inside the major file folder, closed the drawer and re-locked the desk with my lock pick.

I opened my briefcase and pulled out my purse.

I heard the janitor approaching the door. I said, "Gosh, I just found my purse. It was on the floor next to the Mayor's desk."

The janitor said, "I'm glad you found it, because there was nothing downstairs."

"Ma'am, thank you for your help."

"Now, you aren't going to tell anybody about me letting you in the office."

"No, I won't tell nobody. You have my word."

I shook her hand and left.

* * *

Today had been an eerie day. How the hell did Kristal's mother know about the file? Someone must have told her, because there was no way she could have dreamt about it.

But the information wouldn't help Kristal's case. What was I going to do with it? Blackmail the Mayor to find out the truth about Melvin Grady? Which would be a stupid move unless I wanted to land my ass in jail.

And Eric, I couldn't believe that he was in the psych ward. Maybe if I had given him money, he wouldn't have gone off on the deep end. Damn, you just never know what was going to happen to people.

So far, I was hitting the wall on this case. I was learning about my past, Keith's past, and his wife's past, but nothing relevant to this case. This was too damn weird.

Keith's father might be connected to the case somehow. But this was unlikely, because I would have heard about him by now. He certainly didn't live in San Jose and after 37 years who knows if he even lived in Oakland. He could be dead, be a patient in the psych ward or in prison.

The way that things were going now, nothing could surprise me. Not a goddamn thing.

## Chapter Seventeen

I had been on the Internet for over two hours and my head was beginning to ache. I looked for Terrance and there was nothing about him in the newspaper archives in any of the California newspapers and there were no lawsuits filed against him.

Whoever this Terrance Clayton was, he never had made a name for himself. Wait a second, Terrance might have gone to Berkeley like the Mayor had. I checked the alumni office and his name popped up for the Class of 1967. Cool. But there was no address listed. It said to contact the Alumni office for information.

I called the Alumni office and said, "Hello, I am trying to locate an alumnus."

The woman said, "What is his name?"

"Terrence Clayton and he graduated in 1967."

"Is he family?"

"Yes." Well, he used to be. I guess technically he was my ex-father-in-law. So, I wasn't lying.

"Okay, it says on the card that we are not to give out his address unless it's family member. I can give you his address."

She recited me the address. He was living in Oakland. Thank God, he was alive.

* * *

The place where Keith's father's lived was an old decaying home. The outside needed to be painted and the grass was completely brown. There were a couple of boarded up windows and the screen door was torn and rusted.

An old African-American woman opened the door. She must have been at least eighty years old. Her skin was severely wrinkled and some of her teeth were missing. Her housedress was much too big for her small frame and her house shoes were full of holes.

I smiled at her and said, "I am here to see Terrence Clayton."

"Come on in. I am his mother."

The woman led me into the living room, which contained a badly stained couch and old rotting wooden chairs. Next to the couch, there were piles of newspapers.

"So ma'am. When are you expecting him?"

"No time soon. I guess you don't know."

"Know what?"

"Terrance done passed away a few years ago. Young lady, what can I help you with?"

"Sorry to hear that. I was hoping that he could provide me with some information."

"Are you related to his kin?"

"To his kin?"

"Terrence had a baby boy with a white girl a long time ago. The white girl became the Mayor of San Jose. Terrence tried to tell folks. But no one believed him because of his problem."

"His problem?"

"Yeah, my boy had a problem with drugs. First, it was heroin and then he turned to cocaine. That's what killed him."

"Sorry to hear that."

"Are you related to his son?"

"No, I am not." This was true, because Keith and I were no longer married.

"That's too bad. I had a feelin' about you when you walked in. Anyway, what type of information are you looking for?"

"I was trying to find out information about Melvin Grady."

"That evil sonabitch. He's one who turned my boy onto drugs."

"Ma'am, you know about him."

"Do I know about him? That sonabitch-excuse my language- used to come here to East Oakland and parade his whores and shit in front everybody. That sonabitch controlled everything. He used work for the San Jose Police Department until they fired his ass. But instead of throwing his ass in jail like they should have, they let him join the fire department. And now he is the Fire Chief. There ain't no justice for black folks."

"Do you know Phillip Meeks?"

"Shit, Phillip Meeks that crackhead attorney. Hell, yeah, I know him. My boy used to be his paralegal. In between getting high, Mr. Meeks would defend criminals."

"Do you know anything about Melvin Grady's grandfather?"

"His granddaddy. Oh yeah, I know about him too."

"He died back in '83, right?"

"Is that the lie that Melvin told you?"

"Is his grandfather alive?"

"I don't know if he is."

"Well, the grandfather left him over fifteen million dollars."

"His grandfather and his family ain't got no money. I remember all of that mess. Terrence told me they needed to cover up the money from Melvin's drugs deals. So, they came up with phony death certificate, will, bank accounts and had all of that entered in the court so that the FBI would leave him alone."

Goddamn, the probate had been fabricated. You would have thought that the FBI would have done more through checking unless somebody got paid off.

"How come this never came out?"

"I don't know what planet you're from, but there was no way they were going to believe some drug addict like my son. Hell, no."

"But Phillip Meeks got caught."

"Meeks was one stupid fool who got too damn greedy. Do you know how much the man had laundered? Over a hundred million dollars. Two brothers who were FBI agents went in and entrapped his ass good. Made him say how he had all these different bank accounts and how laundering a million dollars was no problem, because he had it down to a science. The brothers got that on tape, tracked down the bank accounts, and that fool Meeks was sent to prison for ten years."

"How come they didn't do the same thing to Grady?"

"'Cause Grady's a white boy and he knows who to pay and what to say. Grady ain't no fool. He knows the system inside and out."

"How come Meeks never turned in Grady?"

"Because if he did, Meeks would be dead. Meeks ain't that stupid."

"Has Grady killed before?"

"Grady ain't into killing. Not because, he was afraid of doing it. He just don't have to do it. Folks are too afraid of him."

"Do you know about the three firefighters who were killed in San Jose?"

"Yeah, I heard about that. The wife and her boyfriend did it. It's a damn shame when we have sisters killing over money and white men."

"I believe she is innocent and that Grady is somehow connected to the killings."

"If Grady had a problem with them, he would have made their lives miserable. Exposed their secrets or done whatever. But kill them, he's not the one. Now, if you wanna ask me about children, women and others that he has killed by addicting them to crack, he's guilty as sin."

"Didn't you just say that if Grady had exposed Meeks, he would be dead."

"Now, I didn't tell you that Grady was no killer. He would have exposed Meeks' secrets and forced him to kill himself."

"Secrets like he was a crackhead?"

"That wasn't no secret. Something a lot worse. Something where folks would lose all respect for him."

"What?"

"Meeks is a closet homosexual and he don't want nobody to know."

"How do you know that?"

"'Cause my son and him used to be lovers. That's how I know."

"He is in prison now. So why would that matter?"

"You don't understand how they treat homosexuals. In prison, men have sex with men. That's real common. But if you let it be known that you're a homosexual in prison, you gonna get a bad ass whippin' and in some cases they might kill you. That's why they separate the homosexuals from the others."

"It seems to me that he would just admit it, so he wouldn't have any problems."

"Admit it. Is you crazy? That man got three kids. There ain't no way a family man gonna admit that."

"They're grown. Aren't they?"

"Girl, I don't care if they're as old as dirt. That don't matter. Meeks is a family man and there was no way he would let his secret be known."

"How come your son told you?"

"He didn't tell me nothing. I walked on him and Meeks one day and they were doing things that as a God-fearing woman I can't repeat in good company."

"Ma'am, you're saying is that if Meeks were over his fear of being outed that he would tell the truth about Grady."

"Girl, he ain't gonna get over that. Stop wastin' your time. Grady's killed a lot of other folks through crack, but as for those boys, he ain't done nothin'."

"Is Grady still dealing?"

"Once a dope fiend, always a dope fiend."

"You know anybody who will testify to that?"

"Not anyone who values their life. You a cop or something."

"No, a private investigator."

"Well, I suggest you stop investigating. 'Cause unless your nose is clean and ain't nothing in your past, it will come out and you will be hurt."

"I'm not afraid of that. I got nothing to hide."

"Yeah, that is what they all say until things start being exposed. You know what I mean?"

"I hear you."

* * *

I had been waiting in traffic for an hour. It was bumper to bumper traffic on the 680 and I was beginning to feel tired. It was already 6:00 and my stomach was beginning to ache. It would probably be another 45 minutes before I would reach the Federal prison in Pleasanton.

I turned on the radio to listen to the news. The newscaster said, "Just two and half hours ago, the body of Phillips Meeks was found in Pleasanton Men's Federal Prison. Apparently, Meeks hung himself with a towel in his cell. Meeks is a former criminal defense attorney who was later convicted of laundering millions of dollars of drug cartel money in 2001. He was serving a ten- year sentence. Officials say he had been depressed over the last few days. However, his suicide was a surprise to the few who knew him and he left no note. He is survived by his three children."

Damn, they had gotten to him. But how? Was I still being tapped? What was going on? I turned off at the next exit and headed back to San Jose.

## Chapter Eighteen

I called Keith from my cell phone. I said, "Keith, I need to see you as soon as possible."

"Jazz, it's not a good time."

"I know something about Meeks' death. We need to talk now. It's important."

"Where?"

"Meet me at Miguel's coffeeshop in 45 minutes."

"Okay, I will be there."

I hung up the phone. Had they heard that conversation? They could have bugged my clothes. This paranoia was really getting to me.

I went to the department story on Keyes and bought a pair of sweats, bra, underwear, socks, tennis shoes, a pen, a note pad, and a purse.

I took all my newly purchased items and changed in a gas station's bathroom. I then placed everything in a bag and dumped it in a trashcan.

To my surprise, Keith was on time.

I said, "I am sorry about her father."

Keith replied, "I can't stay long."

"They killed him."

"What do you mean they killed him?"

"Two days ago, I went to see Loretta's father about a probate that he did on Melvin Grady's grandfather's estate. He refused to talk about it."

"Probably attorney-client privilege."

"No, I think he laundered money from Melvin Grady's drug dealing and used the probate as a cover."

"Jazz, I heard the rumors before about the drug dealing. But I don't think they're true. Do you have any evidence?"

"This afternoon, I met with the mother of Terrence Clayton who was a former paralegal for Loretta's father. Apparently, he told her about the probate being a cover up for the drug money."

"So where is he now?"

"He's dead."

"Do you have any other witnesses?"

"No, but I believe that his mother is credible."

"What did her son die of?"

"Crack cocaine."

"And you believe the mother of a dead drug addict. Come on Jazz, let's get real."

"She knew about other stuff that was true. So, she's probably telling the truth."

"Like what?"

"Like things I don't know whether I should tell you about."

"Jazz, I am going to leave unless you give me something concrete."

"Remember how you tried looking for your parents. Well, I know who your mother is. And who your father is."

"You know who my mother and father are. How?"

"I'm a detective and she verified it."

"You are discussing my personal business with a stranger. What is wrong with you?"

"I didn't bring it up, she did. She just verified information that I found out."

"Where did you find the information about my biological parents?"

"At City Hall."

"What the hell is information about me doing down there? That doesn't make sense. So you are telling me that you went to the City Clerk's office and they gave you this information about me."

"No one gave it to me. I just found it."

"Where did you find it in City Hall?"

"In the Mayor's office."

"The Mayor had this information about my parents laying on her desk."

"No, it was locked in a file in an envelope."

"Jazz, she let you look through her personal files."

"No, I went to her office when she wasn't there."

"You broke and entered into the Mayor's office? Jazz, that's a serious crime. For Christ's sake, you're the daughter of a cop!"

"I didn't break in. A janitor let me in."

"Knowing you, you told her some bullshit story."

"I don't want go into the details."

"Jazz, who is my mother? A movie star? Or is it someone bigger than that? Or she is homeless? Who is she?"

"No, she's not a movie star and she's not homeless."

"Jazz, you are really getting on my nerves. Just stop playing games and say it."

"The Mayor is your mother."

"That bitch is not my mother! Jazz, have you lost your mind? My mother is not white!"

"Look at your hair and look at your skin. You look like the product of an interracial relationship."

"I could also be the result of two light-skinned black parents or any other combination for that matter."

"Keith, I saw your birth certificate. You were born on May 21, 1968 and your birth name was Keith Sayers. Now how likely is it that there was another Keith born on your birthday?"

"Jazz, that's a coincidence."

"It was in your file in an envelope. There was a picture of you, the Mayor, and your father. You look just like him."

"Who is my Dad? Is he somebody of equal status?"

"Afraid not. He was Terrence Clayton."

"The drug addict. This is utter bullshit."

"Your father was also the paralegal for Phillip Meeks."

"Great, my father was the paralegal for Loretta's father where they laundered drug money together."

"We can't pick our parents."

"Is there anything else that I should know?"

"There is something else. But it's not really important."

"What? Grandma was an axe murderer. Just say it."

"Your father and Loretta's father were lovers."

"Lovers. That's just dandy. That certainly explains the attraction between Loretta and me. We are just following in our parents' footsteps. But the only difference is we are heterosexual."

"Keith, I hope this information doesn't hurt you."

"Hurt me. The Mayor is my mother and she is a woman whom I can't stand. My father is a dead drug addict who was Loretta's father's lover. On top of this, they held hands in the closet and laundered drug money together. I would have been better off not knowing anything. I never asked you to look for them."

"I didn't go looking for them. It was an accident."

"It was an accident. How?"

"Kristal's mother told me that she had a vision that there was a file in the Mayor's office related to the case. So, I followed it up."

"You searched for evidence based on Kristal's mother who is in the psych ward. Your standards are at an all-time low."

"The bottom line is that I believe that Melvin Grady was involved in drug dealing and if Loretta's father confessed, Melvin would lose everything. He had him killed just like the others."

"I don't know about that. According to the reports, Loretta's father hung himself and everything points to a suicide. I think he did it on his own."

"And what about the firefighters?"

"I don't know. Maybe he did it. But there is no motive. All I can tell you is to keep digging. You might find something.

But Jazz, do me a favor. If you find anything else about my family, don't tell me. I don't want to know. I am over that biological parent kick. I really am."

"Okay."

"Anyway, I have to leave. I promised Loretta that I would meet her in Pleasanton and I'm running late."

## Chapter Nineteen

I got a call from the court in San Francisco that the file was ready for me. I had been reading the file for two hours and everything appeared to be in order.

I looked over the death certificate. It indicated Russell Grady had died on February 9, 1983 in Huntington Beach.

I made a copy of the certificate and then drove to the San Jose airport. Four hours later, I was in Orange County, the capitol of conservatism and the Moral Majority's values. And yet, it had elected liberal Democratic Latinas It was a place of dichotomies and shifting demographics.

I looked in the phone book for Newman Cemetery and there was no listing. However, I noticed that there was a listing for a hospital. on Newman Avenue.

I drove to the hospital. A young, anorexic looking woman was at the receptionist's desk. She was about 5'8" and she couldn't have weighed more than 95 pounds.

I introduced myself and said, "Hi, I am trying to find out where Newman Cemetery is located."

She looked at me with a puzzled expression and said, "Newman Cemetery? There is no such place. There's a Newman Nursing Home, which is right up the street and Huntington Beach Cemetery, which is a couple miles down. You should check with the nursing home. They might be able to help you."

"Thanks." I left.

When I walked into the nursing home, it reeked of urine and ammonia.

At the nurse's station, there were three seriously overweight women in nurse's uniforms. Between the three of them, they must have weighed over a ton. I approached the heaviest of the three whose black hair was with streaked blond.

I smiled and said, "Hi, I'm trying to get information about Newman Cemetery."

She looked at me like I had slapped her in the face. She replied wryly, "That wasn't funny ma'am."

"What are you talking about?"

"A lot people make fun us and call us a cemetery. But we are not a cemetery, we take care of living people."

"I didn't mean to offend you. I was told that there was a place called Newman Cemetery. But what I am really looking for is information about someone who may have been a patient here years ago. He died in 1983 and his name is Russell Grady."

"Russell Grady. He isn't dead. Who told you that lie? He's been here for nearly twenty-five years. The man is almost a hundred years old. He's a little forgetful. But other than that, he is alert and very much alive. He is just down the hall if you want to see him."

Damn, Russell Grady was alive. This was the last thing that I expected. It was like the whole case was coming together.

I walked into Russell Grady's room. He was lying in the second bed. He barely weighed over 125 pounds. His body was shriveled and his face was etched with deep wrinkles.

I introduced myself and said, "Hi, I would like to talk to you about your grandson."

"My grandson?"

"Melvin Grady."

"He's a bad boy. He hangs out with those colored folks who done him wrong."

I could feel my blood pressure rising when he referred to us as colored folks. My anger showed in my face.

"Miss, I mean no offense. But sometimes your people do things that just ain't right."

I nodded, because there was no point in correcting the old man.

"Anyway, Mel was always hangin' with the coloreds in Oakland and that's where he got too greedy. Then he done turn bad."

"Do you know that your grandson Melvin and his lawyer pretended that you were dead?"

"He done what? Said I was dead? I ain't never heard nuthin' like that. I know that he and that colored lawyer was up no good. Shoot, I guess you can't trust those coloreds."

Although I was tempted to cuss him out for his racist comments, I politely asked, "Mr. Grady, were you ever a millionaire?"

"Girlie, me a millionaire. That is funny. I ain't never had a cent to my name. But although I had nuthin', I done raised me a family of three boys. It's too bad all of 'em is dead."

"Will you sign a statement that your grandson is Melvin Grady?"

"Sign. I can't sign nuthin'. I got me a bad case arthritis."

"Can I tape record you?"

"No, I ain't going to agree to that. I don't want to hurt my grandson."

"Your grandson may have hurt a lot of people. He could be dealing drugs."

"My grandson ain't no drug dealer. He got a lot of problems, but he ain't no colored man. He is too good for that."

"Mr. Grady, what do you know about your grandson?"

"He's a firefighter up in San Jose and he married this real pretty schoolteacher. He and his wife came by a couple years ago. Yeah, his wife is a real looker."

"Mr. Grady, do you know your grandson is a multimillionaire?"

"My grandson ain't rich. I don't know who lied to you. And if he is, I know he earned it. He didn't get it from no drug dealing."

I pulled out the court papers and showed them to him.

I took a deep breath and said, "According to these papers, your grandson inherited fifteen million dollars from you when you supposedly died in 1983. Everything in this file is fake. You can read the papers for yourself."

"Miss, I didn't go past the second grade in school so my readin' is not too good. I don't care what these papers say, my grandson is no law breaker."

The old man paused for a few seconds and then continued. "He is just too friendly with colored folks. Mixing with them just ain't natural. White folks and colored folks just weren't made for one another. Where I come from in South Carolina, colored folks used to know their place. It just ain't like the old days no more."

This old man's racism was beginning to get on my nerves. And he just lied to me. He damn well knew about Melvin and he was covering up for him. There was no reason why the old man should lie when he could die at any minute.

I handed him my card and said, "Mr. Grady, if you change your mind about making a statement, please call me."

He looked me directly in the eyes and said, "I ain't never called a colored gal and ain't gonna start now. So you can keep your damn card."

Damn, this old man had an attitude. I said, "Thank you for your time."

"Girlie, you done caused a lot of trouble now. You people always do. Now leave me be."

I wanted to yell, "go to hell." But what was the point? Instead, I rolled my eyes at him and left.

At least this old man had confirmed what I needed to know. And hell, once I exposed that he was alive, Melvin Grady was history. He probably would be in prison for the rest of his life.

I couldn't wait until I got home to celebrate. Everything was finally coming together.

The old days I would have partied with whiskey. But I am over it. I don't need a drink anymore.

Everything is going to work out. And drinking is not a part of my life anymore. No, I am going to make it.

* * *

It was a little past 11:00 at night when I got home. I turned on the news. Anchorman Bryce Rushton said, "We have just gotten a late breaking report from the San Jose Fire Department tonight. At 8:15, Fire Chief Melvin Grady was hit and killed by a train in downtown San Jose. Apparently, the train tracks' lights signals were malfunctioning. The Chief's truck was slashed in two by the train."

Shit, someone found that I had gone to see his grandfather and killed him. Someone was bugging me again and taping my every move. This shit was getting too damn eerie. At this point, I was afraid to interview anyone else, because they would probably kill that person too.

I hoped that the old man was still alive, because he was proof that the probate had been fabricated. And even if he weren't, his death certificate would show that he died today and not twenty-three years ago.

But who was behind Melvin Grady's killing? Was it the same person who had killed the firefighters and Loretta's father?

Or was it possible that the death of Loretta's father was really a suicide and Melvin Grady's death was an accident? No, that explanation was too neat and easy. It didn't make sense.

Someone had purposely killed Melvin Grady and there was no way that anyone could link it to Kristal. That was impossible. Nor could anyone link Loretta's father's death to her.

I knew now that Kristal had to be innocent and whoever was behind these killings was someone who was out of control and had to be stopped.

## Chapter Twenty

It was 10:00 in the morning. I knocked on Raul's door. No one answered. His car was outside, so I figured that he was probably home. I continued to knock, but there was no answer.

Shit, I needed to see him now. Somebody was tapping me and I needed to find out who it was.

I continued to knock hard. Finally, an old Latino woman in her eighties answered the door. Her hair was completely white and her face was etched with hundreds of tiny wrinkles. She wore a housedress that was a size too small for her.

I said, "Hi, my name is Jasmine Myers and I am a private investigator. I am looking for Raul Vasquez."

"You need to speak louder, because I am hard of hearing."

I shouted, "I want to see Raul Vasquez."

"Oh, Raul. He's my nephew. He's away on vacation. My daughter and me are watching the house."

"When will he be back?"

"Lady, he won't be back for another five weeks."

There was no way that I could wait that long.

"Is there any way that I could get in touch with him before then?"

"No, you'll just have to wait."

"Do you have the phone number where he's staying?"

"The phone number? Lady, they don't have phones there. He went to Kenya and he's staying with some farmers."

"Why did he go there?"

"Lady, you're asking too many questions. But I will tell him that you came by."

"Thank you for your time."

I then left. Damn, Raul was 9,000 miles away in Africa. He was the only person that I trusted to help me with tracking down the people who were tapping me. Without him, I would just have to more careful and hope they didn't find anything else out.

* * *

I hadn't seen James since our date. He hugged me like an old friend and took me into his office.

James smiled at me and said, "How are you feeling?"

I said, "I am doing okay."

"What's up?"

"James, did you know that Melvin Grady was a millionaire?"

"Yeah, I've heard the story how he inherited all this money from his grandfather."

"James, he didn't inherit it. It was drug money."

"How do you know this?"

"Because I saw his grandfather yesterday."

"You what?"

"The man is alive and well in a nursing home in Orange County."

"I'll be damned."

"And the eerie thing is that after I saw him, Melvin was killed."

"You're saying it wasn't an accident?"

"No, I believe he was murdered by the same person who killed the others."

"Okay, what is the connection between Richard Carpenter, Ralph Woods, and Dan Fulton?"

"You know that guy Philip Meeks, who hung himself in federal prison, I think he was murdered too. Meeks was Grady's lawyer in probating his grandfather's estate. Meeks was in prison for money laundering and I believe that he and Grady made up a phony death certificate, bank statements and used the probate as a way to launder the money that Grady was getting from drug dealing."

"Jasmine, do you have any proof that Grady sold drugs?"

"I talked to a few people who knew about Grady. And why would he fabricate his grandfather's death? It had to be because of drug dealing."

"Jasmine, why after twenty years would someone start killing off these people?"

"I don't know."

"Okay. Did you get a statement from his grandfather?"

"No, the old man is racist as hell. He wouldn't let me tape record him or anything. But I don't think we need anything, because all we have to show is that the probate was based on false information."

"Jasmine, I hear what you're saying. But even if the probate was fabricated and Phillip Meeks and Melvin Grady laundered drug money, that doesn't connect them to the killers of the others. No, I think these are two separate cases."

"James, I think you are wrong. It fits the pattern. Every time that I tried to talk to someone who was a witness, they were killed off."

"But Jasmine, not all of your witnesses were killed."

"Okay, only the credible ones. The bottom line is that the killer is still out there."

"But Jasmine, how could a train be timed to kill Melvin Grady at that exact moment? I think it was a sheer coincidence."

"And what about Phillip Meeks' suicide? Is it just a coincidence that two days after that I see him, he kills himself? Come on. He left no note. Most people would leave a note. Someone killed him."

"Jasmine, I don't think so. I think their deaths are red herrings and that's it. Nothing more to it."

"Based on that thinking, everything was an accident."

"That's possible, but unlikely. No, somebody framed Kristal for those deaths. But with Meeks and Grady, there is no motive."

James' arrogant attitude was getting my nerves. I said in an abrasive voice, "James, I think you are wrong."

"Jasmine, if you do, you need to find something that links them together."

"Tell me something that I don't know."

James looked me directly in the eyes and said, "I'm sorry for being huffy with you. But I am under a lot of pressure. If we don't find something soon, I am going to lose this case."

"Apology accepted."

"Jasmine, how about if I take you out to dinner as my apology?"

God, the man still wanted to see me. I didn't want to lead him on, so I said, "My schedule is really hectic these days."

"How about in a couple weeks?"

Damn, he was persistent, but there was no way that I could have a relationship with him. I said, "James, I want to keep our relationship on a professional basis."

He said, "I understand." James looked at me with the eyes of an eight-year-old boy who had been told that he hadn't made the Little League team.

I wished he hadn't given me that look. I wanted to hold him, let him know that everything would be all right. But I knew that it wouldn't and that the gesture would only hurt him more.

I swallowed hard and said, "James, I have to get going. But I will be in touch."

I let myself out of his office because I could not bear looking at him in his sad dejected state.

* * *

It took me thirty minutes to drive to the Gradys' home. Their home was off a long winding road in Los Altos Hills. There were no cars in the driveway. I knocked on the door. To my surprise, Rebecca answered the door. Her eyes were bloodshot and her hair was thrown on the top of her head in a ponytail. Her feet were bare and she was wearing a pair of old gray sweats. She led me inside the house, which was immaculate.

She sat me down in the living room.

I said, "I am sorry about your husband."

She said, "Thank you for your condolences. The funeral is on Saturday. I just can't believe he's gone."

"I know that this isn't good time for you. But I need to ask you a few personal questions."

"Jasmine, I answered all of your questions the last time."

"Last time I had different questions and your husband was alive."

"Okay. What do you want to know?"

"Was Melvin a drug dealer?"

"A what?"

"Was your husband a drug dealer?"

"What the hell are you talking about? My husband was an honest man."

"Rebecca, how did your husband acquire this home?"

"What you mean by that?"

"Rebecca, stop playing games. There is no way on your husband's salary, he could afford to buy a two-million-dollar house."

"My husband is a very wealthy man. He inherited millions of dollars years ago."

"Who did he inherit this money from?"

"His grandfather."

"What was his grandfather's name?"

"Russell Grady. Why are you asking all of these questions? Melvin's grandfather has been dead for over twenty years."

"Rebecca, you know that he's not dead."

"What are you talking about?"

"Isn't it true that your husband's grandfather lives in a nursing home in Huntington Beach?"

"Jasmine, you must have him confused with someone else."

"No, I don't. I just saw Melvin's grandfather yesterday and he was alive and well. And he never had a dime to his name. He told me that he saw you and Melvin a couple years ago when you visited the nursing home."

"I don't know what you are talking about. Melvin's grandfather is dead."

"No, he is not. You know that. And you know that your husband obtained his wealth from drug dealing. The thing that bothers me is that the minute that I confirmed that Melvin's grandfather was alive, Melvin was killed. I think he was murdered."

"My husband is not a drug dealer and he was not murdered. Everybody loved him. He was a kind, loving man."

"Rebecca, why would you marry a man almost twice your age?"

"Because I loved him."

"You married Melvin to help him cover up his drug dealing and he paid your father off. Didn't he?"

"You're a sick woman. I loved my husband. He was a good man just like my father."

"If you call being a racist a good man."

"What are you talking about?"

"Didn't your father forbid you from marrying a Latino cop?"

"Hell no. Who told you that bullshit?"

"His sister Cindy Rodriguez."

"Cindy is so full of shit. I left Jerry and it wasn't because of my father."

"Why did you leave him?"

"Look I don't want to talk about it."

"Why did you leave him?"

"Because he abused me."

"How? Verbally?"

"No, it was more than that. Before I met Melvin, I used to pick the wrong men. Men who would physically abuse me and hurt me. Men who didn't give a damn about me, but just wanted to be seen with me, because of my looks. Jerry was one of them."

"So, Jerry physically abused you."

"Yes."

"Why would Cindy lie about you and Jerry's relationship?"

"Look, I don't know what her problem is. Hell, she's a short, fat ugly woman. She probably was jealous."

My skin bristled when she called Cindy "ugly." Her comment was so mean-spirited. "Cindy has never lied to me before."

"She is this time. I filed a restraining order against her brother. Check the records."

Cindy had lied to me about Jerry. But there is no way that she lied about Melvin's drug dealing. Josie and Keith's grandmother had both confirmed that story. And Melvin's grandfather was alive and penniless.

I exhaled deeply and said, "I am sorry about Jerry. But like I said before, Melvin's grandfather is alive."

"If you say so."

"Rebecca, if I were you, I wouldn't venture too far away."

"What are you saying?"

"Rebecca, where were you on the night your husband was killed?"

"I just told you that for years I was the victim of domestic violence with other men. There is no way that I would ever kill my husband. He was my life. He was the only man who treated me right. The only one."

"You would do anything to protect your husband, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, I would. That's how much I love him."

"When you found out that Ralph Woods' investigation would expose your husband's drug dealing, you killed him."

"That is a goddamn lie!"

"You killed the firefighters, because you were afraid that your husband's drug dealing would come out."

"That is bullshit. I never killed anybody."

"You killed your husband, because you didn't want to give up your rich and famous lifestyle."

"I loved my husband. I would have been with him even if he didn't have a cent to his name and we were living in a shack. That's how much I loved him."

"You better get yourself ready for living in a shack. Because when your husband's drug dealing past surfaces, all of this is gone."

"Get out of my house now!"

"Don't venture too far from your house."

Rebecca screamed, "If you don't leave now, I'm calling the cops!"

I left. I didn't want to deal with any bullshit. Rebecca had to be in on it and once I got the declaration from Melvin's grandfather, she would be fitted for an orange jumpsuit courtesy of the woman's jail

I needed to get the old man to cooperate. Screw the old man's cooperation. I would just wear a wire on me. It might not be the right thing to do, but it was the only way that I would get his statement.

* * *

My body was exhausted. I was no mood to deal with Melvin Grady's grandfather's racism, but I needed to see him now.

When I went into the nursing home, the three women whom I had seen the day before were gone. The new shift nurses looked like they were models straight out of a magazine. Two were blond and looked like stereotypical beach bunnies. The other was a redhead with green eyes.

I said, "I'd like to see Russell Grady."

The redhead responded, "He's in his room eating his lunch."

When I entered Grady's room, he was slurping on what appeared to be a bowl of soup.

He gave me a sneering look. "Why are you back?"

I inhaled and clutched the wire taped to my chest and said, "Mr. Russell Grady, I have a few questions that I need to ask you."

"Why are you touching your chest? You have asthma or somethin'?"

"No, sir. I am just feeling a little under the weather."

"Girlie, don't come near me. I don't want to catch nuthin', especially from no colored gal."

God, this man's racism was out of control. But I wasn't going to let it affect me. Instead, I said grimly, "Did you hear about your grandson Melvin Grady?"

"What about him?"

"Sir, I have some bad news."

"What happened to my grandson?"

"Yesterday, he was killed in a train accident. Apparently, the train signals where he was stopped weren't working properly and they failed to come on when the train was coming. Melvin didn't see the train and he and his car was destroyed."

The old man's face looked like I had taken the life out of him. Tears started coming out of his eyes and he said, "That can't be true. You is lying' to me."

"Sir, I'm not. Here is a copy of today's paper."

"You know I can't read. Read it to me. No, wait I don't trust you. Call a nurse to read it."

I got the redhead nurse and asked her to read the newspaper to him.

The redhead nurse said, "Mr. Grady, the article says that San Jose Fire Chief Melvin Grady was killed in a train accident yesterday."

"My grandson is dead. The paper has to be lying. Nurse, can you call the Fire Department and check for me?"

The nurse dialed information and obtained the phone number for the San Jose Fire Department. The nurse dialed the number and handed the phone to the old man.

He said, "Hello, I would like to speak with Fire Chief Melvin Grady."

His face turned ashen, "So you're saying, he was killed in a train accident last night. Okay." He hung up the phone.

He stared at the phone and said, "Those colored folks killed him. I know they did."

"Mr. Grady, he died in a train accident."

"No, he didn't. He was killed by them."

I turned to the nurse and said, "I would like to have a private conversation with Mr. Grady if that would be okay."

She responded, "Sure." And she left the room.

"Mr. Grady, I told you yesterday that your grandson fabricated your death in order that he could launder drug money."

"Miss, I told you that my grandson ain't no drug dealer."

"But there are court papers saying you died in 1983."

"I didn't die back then. And for all I know you is making' everythin' up."

"Sir, I am being truthful with you."

"Miss, it was your people who killed him. Melvin was a good boy. And if you hadn't come here, he would still be alive."

"What are you saying?"

You colored folks really ain't too smart. If you don't know what I is talkin' about, that's too bad."

"I think his wife killed him. She got too greedy and she was afraid of losing everything if the drug dealing came out."

"His wife killed him? Is you crazy? She is a pure white woman. Ain't no woman like that, gonna kill her man. No, if anybody killed him, it was a colored."

"Do you know who this person is?"

"I know it was a colored and that is all I need to know miss. Now, I need to be making' some arrangements, so you best be goin'."

"Sure."

* * *

When I got back to San Jose, I was in heaven. I had the old man on tape and all I needed to do was to confront Rebecca with it and she would be history. She had killed for money and now she was going to have to pay for her actions.

When I arrived at Rebecca's home, there was yellow tape blocking the entrance. Goddamn, what had happened? I saw a police officer who was in his early thirties at the front door.

I said, "I am a private investigator and I am here to see Rebecca Grady."

He looked at me and said, "I'm sorry ma'am, but she just died about two hours ago."

Rebecca was dead. How could she be? Who had gotten to her?

"How did she die?"

"She apparently choked to death on a piece of hard candy. She called nine-one-one. But when the paramedics arrived, she was already gone."

"So, it was an accidental death, correct?

"At this point, we're not sure. You know that her husband was killed in a train accident yesterday. Everything looks suspicious. Anyway, Lt. Myers was just out here and he's not ruling out anything."

Dad had been out here. With Rebecca's death, he would finally come to grips that Kristal was not the killer. How could she be responsible for the deaths of Loretta's father, Melvin, and Rebecca Grady? It was impossible, because she was in jail.

But setting Kristal free would not end the killings. Someone had gone off on a killing spree and he had to be stopped.

## Chapter Twenty-one

When I arrived home, my answering machine had five messages. I clicked on the first one. It was from Dad. He said, "Jasmine, I need to speak with you as soon as possible."

I called Dad's phone number. He answered the phone and I said, "I got your message. What is going on?"

"We need to find Chuck Roberts as soon possible. His killings are out of control and he has gone too far."

"Dad, I thought you already have a warrant out for his arrest."

"Jazz, Chuck Roberts is a very dangerous man, he just killed two people in the last two days-Melvin Grady and his wife."

"I thought Melvin Grady died in a train accident."

"We did some investigating and the train lights were tampered with."

"I don't see the link to Chuck Roberts."

"You really don't know Chuck. The man is out of control. He was blackmailing Grady, because he knew about Grady's side job."

"His side job?"

"His side job of drug dealing. Twenty years ago, Grady was a hard-core drug dealer, but nobody had any hard evidence. There were rumors, but that was it."

"Dad, how come all of this coming out now?"

"Jazz, you know the answer. It's because of your investigation."

"My investigation?"

"When Phillip Meeks heard that you were digging up Melvin Grady's grandfather's probate, he knew that you would find out the truth that everything was fabricated and that his grandfather was still alive. Meeks was scared shitless and he didn't know what do. He called Grady and tipped him off, because he didn't want to be a victim of Grady's wrath.

"Instead, Grady went off on him and told him his life was over. Meeks knew that he had only one option and that was to kill himself. That is why he committed suicide."

"But what does this have to do with Chuck Roberts?"

"When Chuck learned about Meeks, he knew that everything was going to be exposed. So he did what he needed to do. He killed off Grady and his wife."

"But Dad, Rebecca choked on a piece of a candy. There is no way that Chuck could have killed her."

"Jazz, she was forced to take the candy in order to make it look like it was an accident. The reality is that Chuck choked her to death."

"Do you have any proof like fingerprints?"

"Chuck is too smart for that. But we did find something, a money belt buckle with the initials C.R. We ran it through forensics and it is definitely Chuck's."

Shit, the evidence was there. But that didn't mean that Chuck did it. Maybe he and Rebecca had something going on and he left it by accident.

"But Dad, what evidence do you have that Chuck killed Grady?"

"Jazz, do you know what Chuck used to do before he became a firefighter?"

"I have no idea."

"He used to work for the railroad repairing tracks and traffic signals."

Goddamn. This was unbelievable. I swallowed hard and said, "Dad, even if Chuck used to work for the railroad, how would he be able to get Grady to cross the railroad at the exact time that the train was crossing?"

"Because Chuck knew Grady's schedule. He knew the time every night Chuck left the department and when he would pass the tracks to get home. Chuck had Grady's schedule down to a science."

I then asked the question that I needed to ask, "If Chuck was blackmailing Grady all these years, why would he and Kristal kill her husband for money? That doesn't make sense."

"Chuck wasn't blackmailing for money. It was for something a lot more. It was about power. He had control over Grady's every action. He knew when to turn on his power and when to turn it off. And that was more important to Chuck than money."

"But Dad, why would he kill Kristal's husband for money?"

"He didn't kill Ralph. That was Kristal's own doing. But once he found out Kristal's plan, he knew that he had to protect her. That's why the others were killed in order to ensure that she would get the money and no one would blame the murders on her."

Dad seemed to have the answers for everything. But still, I couldn't believe that Chuck had committed the murders. But then again, I didn't know him.

I swallowed hard and said, "Dad, I need to get going."

"Jazz, you are wasting your time with working for Kristal. She is guilty and so is her boyfriend. The best thing that you can do now is to help us find Chuck. He is out of control and there is no telling who his next victim will be.

"Dad, I still haven't checked out everything about Kristal."

"There is nothing else. Kristal will continue to lie to you about being innocent."

"I need to see her and there's still a couple things."

"Like what?"

"I never had a chance to check out Ralph's email."

"Don't waste your time doing that. If you haven't found out anything now, there won't be anything in his email."

"You're probably right. But still, I need to go through it."

"Well, do whatever you want to do. But like I said before, you are wasting your time on this case. Promise me one thing. If you find out where Chuck is, you have to tell me. We can't let the killings continue."

"Of course, I will tell you."

* * *

Kristal's eyes were bloodshot. She looked like she had been crying for days.

I said, "Have you heard the news?"

She nodded and said, "They're trying to blame the murders of Rebecca and Melvin on Chuck. That is totally messed up. There is no way that Chuck would kill them or anyone else."

"They found Chuck's money belt buckle in Rebecca's house. How did it get there?"

"I have no idea. But just because it was there, doesn't make him guilty."

"Was Chuck seeing Rebecca?"

Kristal looked at me like I had said something stupid. She said, "There is no way that Chuck was seeing Rebecca. He was my man and no one else's."

"Why would a single man be loyal to a married woman?"

"Jasmine, because he is totally in love with me."

Damn, Kristal had an ego. I said, "Let's say he wasn't totally honest about his feelings for you. Is it possible that he could be seeing Rebecca?"

"Jasmine, even if Chuck were not seeing me, there is no way he would have been with Rebecca."

"Why not? She's a beautiful woman and it is not like her being married would have stopped him."

"Chuck is not into white women. In fact, Chuck has never been with a white woman. He is into everything but them. And frankly, over the last fifteen years, he has only gone out with black women. Your theory about Rebecca has no merit."

"If Chuck were not seeing Rebecca, how did his money belt buckle wind up at her house?"

"I don't know. But as far as I am concerned, it either got there by accident or the real killer planted it."

"How would the killer get access to Chuck's belongings?"

"I don't know. That's your job to find out."

"To be honest, everything is pointing to Chuck."

"And what about Grady's death? There is no evidence."

"Yes, there is. Chuck used to work for the railroad years ago maintaining its traffic signals. And he knew the time that Grady had to pass the railroad tracks every night. So he could have made the traffic signals not function that night."

"That's bullshit. Just because Chuck used to work for the railroad, doesn't make him the killer. Someone wants to see Chuck and me go down bad. I don't know who it is, but you need to find them."

"Kristal, I am going to be honest with you. There is nothing in you and Chuck's favor."

"Jasmine, I am innocent and so is Chuck. You have to believe me."

"Do you know where Chuck is?"

Kristal looked at me suspiciously and said, "No, I don't. It's not like Chuck can waltz in here and see me."

"Are you sure you don't know?"

"Jasmine, I don't know where he is.

"If Chuck is innocent, why is he hiding?"

"I don't know. When he appears, I am sure he will tell us."

"He better come out soon before anyone else is killed. Because everything is looking really bad for him."

"Why would anyone else be killed?"

I remembered what Dad had told me about the killer. I said, "Because someone is out of control and they are on a killing spree. And who knows, who the next person will be."

Kristal looked at me and pleaded, "Jazz, please don't give up on me or Chuck. I know that you will find the real killer. I just know that you will."

I wanted to say that I had found the real killers and they were Chuck and her. Everything was pointing to them and the case was becoming a waste of my time. And unless Ralph's email showed something else, I was going to close the case.

I swallowed hard and said, "I'll keep trying."

She looked at me "Thanks for having faith in me."

I wanted to tell her the truth, but I couldn't. Instead, I shook her hand good-bye and left.

I knew if something did not turn up soon, Kristal needed to start preparing herself for the death penalty because that was where her case was headed.

## Chapter Twenty-two

It was 1:30 in the morning and I couldn't sleep. I pulled out the disc where I had copied everything from Kristal's hard drive and started looking through the email. There were over three thousand emails. Most of them had to do with fire safety and training. A few were press releases from the San Jose Black Firefighters Association.

I also found emails from Kristal. I glanced through a few of them. They had to do with various community projects.

I saw one addressed to K. Rawlings. Because I was too tired to read it from the screen, I hit the print key and printed a hard copy. I started to read the email.

To: Keith Rawlings

From: Kristal Woods

Date: March 3, 1999

Re: Personal

Keith,

I am tired of our undercover relationship for the past three years. Yes, we have incredible sex and you definitely know how to satisfy a woman. But I need more than that.

For three years, I have been the "other woman" and what has it gotten me? Not a goddamn thing.

When I got pregnant with your child, you went off on me and said it was my fault. You then accused me of "screwing another man."

The only other possibility was Michael. Michael was a minister and he didn't believe in sex before marriage. In fact, the last time Michael had sex was over ten years ago. And that was before he got his calling.

Michael and I were physical to a point, but he and I never had sex.

The only way Michael and I would ever have sex was to get married. And that wasn't going to happen, because his so-called girlfriend Loretta was a Sunday school teacher. There's no way in hell that Michael could have gotten me pregnant.

You were the father of my child or should I say the child I could have had. Because of you, I had an abortion despite the fact I wanted to have it. When I told you I was carrying your baby, you told me that I had two choices- abortion and abortion.

Why did you do this to me?

Of course, I know why. You're married to Jasmine and you hold her up on a goddamn pestle. But why wouldn't you? She pays over half the bills and after a ten-hour workday, she cooks and cleans for you.

The only thing that she wasn't good at was satisfying you in bed and that's why you chose me as your mistress.

But as for other things, I just could not compete. I wasn't making money as a teacher. As for cooking, the closest thing I came to cooking was microwaving my dinner. And as for cleaning, I wasn't a slob. But hell, my house would never be in a magazine.

Besides you were color struck. You were all into her light skin. You felt that you could be seen publicly with her, because of her skin color. But I didn't meet the paper bag test, because I was too dark. Sure, you liked my long hair, because it was real and not artificial. But that wasn't good enough. You were always complaining about how I got too dark in the summer and that I needed to stay out of the sun.

The truth is that you needed a real sister like me to satisfy you sexually; but as for anything else, you needed a light-skinned woman who couldn't suntan to be your partner.

So the bottom line was that we were just sex. You never loved me.

You also knew damn well that Jasmine would leave your ass in a second if she knew there was another woman.

So because you couldn't afford emotionally or financially for the so-called great Jasmine to leave your ass, your only option was to tell me to have an abortion.

Besides you were afraid that the baby might have my color.

You know my values. I don't believe in bringing a child in the world without a father. I believe that two people create a child and when one person doesn't want the baby, you shouldn't have it.

I did what you told me. A part me died when I had the abortion, because I really wanted to have this baby.

I wasn't a young girl anymore. I was 31 years old. But hell like a fool, I listened to you anyway.

You were also right in picking me as your mistress, because I was not one of those women who will go to the wife and tell her that her husband is cheating on her.

No, my self-esteem was too goddamn low. Instead, I pretended that nothing was going on between you and me.

Keith, I am tired of playing this goddamn charade. When I told you that I was leaving you, because I wanted a husband and children, you told me that you were never going to leave your wife. But the closest thing I would come to a husband was you.

Yeah, I know I have told you at least a hundred times that I was leaving you. And the only reason why I kept going back was the sex. Yes, you satisfied me physically. And I used to love the way you would sneeze before you would come.

But not anymore. I can't deal with the emotional pain you have caused me. My heart feels like its being held together by safety pins and the bleeding won't stop.

I can't deal with the bullshit anymore. I just can't. So this time is for real. And it isn't for another man, but for me.

Michael isn't even a possibility, because he is totally in love with that Sunday school girlfriend of his. Anyway, he was just a substitute for you, when you weren't there. Which doesn't make a lot of sense- a devout, born again Christian for a married man. But hell, when did my life ever make sense?

Patrice always said that I went from one extreme to the other. But Keith, I am 31 years old and I am tired of playing games.

I want a man who is single. Not one who is single for an afternoon or night. I want to be able to look myself in the mirror and live a respectable life and not one where I am pretending to be someone else.

-Kristal

After I finished reading, I crumpled up the email and threw it against the wall. I couldn't believe what that bitch had done to me. She had screwed my husband. Not just once, but for three freaking years. Who the hell did she think was? Coming to me to track down the killer of her goddamn husband. What kind of sick game was she playing?

I needed to get out of my house now, because I could barely breathe. I could feel my blood pressure rising and my head felt like it was ready to explode.

I needed a drink. In fact, I need a whole goddamn bottle of whiskey to calm down. I looked in my cupboards and there was nothing. I went into my garage and checked my emergency supply. There was not a goddamn thing. Shit, what had made me throw everything away? Who was I fooling when I went on this sobriety kick?

Whiskey was my lover and he knew how to treat me just right. He would soothe my pain away and make everything better. I needed him right now.

But I knew if I had him, I would want more and more of him and he would leave me feeling empty and used.

God, don't let me give into my desires. I need strength. I can't start drinking again, because I am not going to stop.

I need to see someone who can help me get away from him and Kristal. I left the house and jumped into my car. I started driving down Monterey Highway and started screaming at the top of my lungs. After ten minutes of screaming, I felt a little bit better. My desire for whiskey was fading. Little by little, I was seeing that I didn't need a drink.

But I was still angry with Kristal. She had slept with my husband; and yet, she had the audacity to ask me for my help. Was she insane?

I kept driving. I must have run a couple of red lights. I was lucky I hadn't hit anyone. I kept driving until I wound up at the front door of my father's house. I rang the doorbell and cried, "Dad let me in. He cheated on me! Dad, he cheated on me!"

Dad opened the door and said, "Jazz, do you know what time it is? It's almost two in the morning. What the hell is wrong with you?"

I flung myself into Dad's arms and cried, "He cheated on me. He slept with that woman."

Dad put his arms around me and said, "Honey, do you mean Keith? Jazz, you and Keith are no longer together. What do you mean by he cheated on you?"

I started to cry again and through my tears I whimpered, "I found a letter from that awful bitch Kristal. He and Kristal had an affair for three years while we were married. I never knew. How could I be so stupid?"

Dad hugged me and wiped the tears from my eyes and said, "Honey, I am so sorry. I am so sorry he hurt you."

While I cried, Dad held me gently for a few minutes. He released me and I sat down on the couch. Dad sat in his lounging chair next to the couch.

I stared at Dad for a couple minutes and wiped the tears from my eyes. I took a deep breath and said, "Dad, I know this is personal. But I need to know the truth. Were you always faithful to Mama?"

Dad was silent for a few seconds. He looked me straight in the eye and said, "Jazz, from the minute I laid eyes on your mother I knew she was the one and she would be the mother of my child. I was totally in love with your mother and there was no way I could be with another woman. It would have been against everything I believed in."

I walked over to my Dad and put my arms around him. I said, "I love you. Thank you for being there."

"Jazz, I always will be here for you. You can come to me with anything. It doesn't matter what it is."

"Dad, it just hurts so much."

"Jazz, I know it does."

"Dad, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but you really don't know how much it hurts. You haven't gone through this."

Dad released my arms and stared at the mantel where Mama's picture was hanging. He walked over to the couch and sat next to me.

He stared at Mama's picture again and turned toward me. He said, "Jazz, I never told this to anyone. After your mother died, I went through her belongings and I found her diary. Now, I know your mother's diary is personal and I should have never read it.

"But being a police officer I was naturally curious.

"I found out a year prior to your mother getting cancer, your mother had been having an affair for a number of years with a well-known member of our community. Her lover wanted her to leave me, but your mother wouldn't. She offered him everything except marriage, but he refused to accept your mother's offer. After he left her, your mother was seriously distraught. When she found that she had cancer, she tried to call him. He never returned her calls. He just pretended she didn't exist."

I hugged my father and cried, "Dad, I'm so sorry."

Dad gently wiped away my tears. With tears in his eyes, he said, "Jazz, I do know your pain and how you feel."

"Dad, it must be hard having to face this man. How do you deal with him?"

Dad stared at Mama's picture and said, "Jazz, a few months after your Mama passed, he was involved in a car accident that killed him."

Dad and I sat in the room silently for a few minutes and the only sound we could hear was the clock ticking.

Dad turned to me and said, "Jazz, the bottom line is no one and I mean no one is innocent. It's up to you on what you want to do about the case. Whatever your decision is, I will back you."

Dad hugged me. I then knew everything would be alright.

## Chapter Twenty-three

As usual, Kristal was looking like shit. I began to feel sorry for her, but I then remembered what I had to do.

Kristal asked, "Jasmine, did you find out anything new?"

"Yes, I did."

"What? Did you find the killer?"

I felt my heart pounding hard and I wanted to scream. But to my surprise, my voice was calm. I answered, "No, nothing like that."

"What?"

I blurted out, "You screwed my husband."

Kristal looked at me in horror and said, "What are you talking about?"

"I read your email to my husband. I know about your affair, the abortion, everything."

"My email? I erased that a long time ago."

"Not from the hard drive."

"Jasmine, I'm sorry."

"Sorry my ass. You slept with my husband."

"You're not with him anymore."

Right then I wanted to punch her. Who did this bitch think she was? I had to restrain myself. I took a couple deep breaths and said, "Kristal, you were with my husband when I was married to him. You screwed him for three freaking years. Who the hell do you think you are to come to me for help after you slept with my husband?"

"Jasmine, I never thought you would find out. I never wanted to hurt you."

"I don't give a shit what your intentions were. And for your information, you hurt me the minute my husband went inside you."

"Jasmine, I am really sorry. I loved him. I . . ." She started to cry uncontrollably.

I ignored her crying and said, "Kristal, you may have slept with my husband, but you are not going to screw me over. No that is not going to happen. I am off the case."

"But Jasmine, I need you."

"I don't need you and your sick ass. I suggest that you find a P.I. whose husband you haven't screwed. And knowing you, you won't find one. You immoral bitch."

Kristal began to whimper again.

I said angrily, "Do not talk to me. Just stay the hell away from me."

I left her crying and headed back to my office.

* * *

When I arrived at my office, Keith was standing outside my door.

I stared at him and snapped, "What the hell do you want?"

"Jazz, I need to talk you."

"Let's talk out here."

"No, inside."

Against my better judgment, I led Keith into my office.

Once inside, Keith said, "Jazz, you have to help Kristal."

I felt my blood pressure rising. I screamed, "Your bitch sent you to convince me to take back her case. Tell her hell no. You all can go to hell."

"Jazz, I know you are angry.

"Angry is an understatement. Keith, I suggest that you find your bitch a new private investigator."

"Jazz, she needs you."

"Keith, what kind of fool do you think I am? I'm not working for that whore."

"Jazz, I'm sorry for what happened."

"No, baby, sorry isn't good enough for a three-year affair. Go to hell.

"Jazz, you are being irrational."

"I'm being irrational for a woman who just found out that her ex-husband had a three-year affair with some bitch while they were married. I don't think so. But hell, I should have known.

"God, just a few weeks ago, you were trying to get with me when your new wife was pregnant. You have no morals. You bastard."

"Jazz, I made a mistake."

"A mistake for three freaking years. A mistake for getting another woman pregnant. Keith, you are totally messed up. That's what you are." I then slapped him hard.

Keith looked at me and said nothing. He was quiet for a few seconds. He mumbled, "You're jealous because Kristal got pregnant."

I wanted to explode. At the top of my lungs, I screamed, "Keith, you and your dumb ass. Why would I be jealous of a woman who got pregnant and who you ordered to abort her baby. Mr. Pro-Life with everybody except yourself. Preaching it's genocide for a black woman to have an abortion. You're so full of shit. No, I am not jealous. I am just pissed off as hell with you."

He stared at the ground and said, "Jasmine, you are jealous, because you're infertile."

"You know Keith the only reason that you call me infertile is because you got Kristal pregnant and you couldn't get me pregnant. There is nothing wrong with me, Mr. Pro-Life with everybody except you!"

"You're infertile, because you've never been pregnant."

I took a deep breath and said angrily, "Not by you. But years ago before I met you, I got pregnant by someone else and had an abortion. I never told you because I was afraid that you would condemn me. I used to feel that I had violated your morals. But now I know, all of that was a charade."

"Jasmine, I am sorry."

"Sorry is too late. And there is nothing that you can say or do for me to take back Kristal's case. So get out of my office."

I pointed to the door and Keith left.

I called my father.

"Dad, I am off Kristal's case."

"Jazz, you did the right thing."

"You think so?"

"Kristal is guilty as hell."

"And what if she's not?"

"She is guilty."

"Dad, what if there's a chance that she's innocent?"

"Jazz, don't fool yourself. She's guilty and she's getting what she deserves."

After I hung up the phone, I felt my head pounding. My muscles felt weak and tired. I stared at my desk and decided to go home.

When I got home, I took a long hot shower and put on a tee shirt. I turned off my phone and answering machine.

It had been a helluva of a week and I did not want to be bothered. I crawled into my bed and fell asleep.

A few hours later, someone was ringing my doorbell. I tried to ignore it, but the person would not stop.

I threw on my housecoat and house shoes and a scarf over my hair because it was wild.

I peered through the peephole and saw Sheila. I let her in.

Sheila said, "Jasmine, you look like shit."

"I feel like it too."

"I know that you are upset with Kristal and Keith."

I looked at Sheila suspiciously and asked, "Were you sent by them?"

"No, I wasn't, Jazz. But she needs your help."

"You can tell that bitch and bastard ex-husband of mine to go screw themselves."

"I know what they did was wrong, but an innocent woman is going to get the death penalty if you don't help."

"Innocent my ass. First that bitch has a three-year affair with my no-good husband. During that time, she gets knocked up and has an abortion. Then she marries Ralph and the whole time that she is married, she is screwing some white boy. She gets pregnant again and she doesn't know if Ralph or the white boy is the father. Then her husband is killed. Kristal's credit is shot to hell and with her husband getting murdered on the job, she will get $250,000 to split with her boyfriend. She and her man kill the Chief and Dan to make it look like someone is out to get firefighters.

"That bitch then tried to use me to track down the murderer when in reality she and her boyfriend did it. That is one sick bitch. Then Chuck goes on a killing spree, killing off Melvin Grady and his wife, because he is on a power trip. They are one messed up couple."

"Jazz, you're sounding like the DA. That's their story, but I know that Kristal is innocent."

"Bullshit. There are no other suspects. Kristal and her boyfriend did it. End of story."

"What about Bill Roberts?"

"Who the hell knows? Ralph probably knew about Chuck and used that as a code for him. When Kristal found out that Ralph was going to leave her that is when she and her boyfriend killed him."

"Jazz, there is more to Bill Roberts than what you are saying."

"No, there isn't. I've already looked into that."

"Reverend Michael Baylor called me and he wants to see you."

"Michael Baylor. Screw him too. He knew about Kristal and my ex-husband. He and Kristal were doing everything but the nasty. I am sick of all these messed up sex crazed people."

"Jazz, you have to stop thinking about the sex and think about the case."

"Stop thinking about the sex? Who am I talking to-Ms. Screw them and leave them. Maybe you have never been in love, but I have. I loved my husband. I trusted him."

"Jazz, I know you are hurting inside."

"You don't know shit, because you have never given yourself to a man. And quite frankly knowing you, you never will."

"Jazz, as an adult I have never given myself, because I know what it's like to love somebody and respect them and have that person destroy you.

"When I was eleven years old, I loved my Uncle Arthur. He was my idol. I thought he was the best looking and kindest man in the world. I trusted him with all of my heart. But he violated that trust and he hurt me."

"How?"

"He raped me. Not just once but for two years until my mother walked in us. My mother threw him out and threatened to blow off his balls if he ever came back. Later, my mother called me a slut and blamed me for everything. She said that I had made my uncle seduce me. I then later found that I was pregnant."

"Did you have an abortion?"

"No. I hid my pregnancy from my mother, because I was too ashamed. By the time my mother found out, it was too late to do anything."

I asked quietly, "What happened to the baby?"

"At thirteen, I knew I couldn't raise the baby and my mother didn't want any reminder of my uncle. So we decided to give my daughter up for adoption. I have tried looking for my daughter, but I have never found her. To this day, I feel so bad about giving my daughter up and I have never been able to trust a man."

"Sheila, I am sorry."

"Jazz, the point is that bad things happen to good people. That doesn't mean that you have to stop living. Yes, Kristal hurt you. But she doesn't deserve to die because of it. You need to talk to Michael."

"I am sorry. But I just can't. I hurt too much. I just want to go back to bed and sleep.

I asked Sheila to leave.

After Sheila left, I went to the store and bought what I needed. Something that would save me.

When I got home, I poured a shot of whiskey. It had been 161 days since I had a drink. I drank my whiskey with such desire to show how I truly had missed him. The liquid trickled down my throat like a skilled lover's tongue. God, it felt good.

I drank another shot, because I needed it. Whiskey was the only one who would not let me down. Sheila and Keith had turned on me. Whiskey gave me comfort. Before I knew it, the entire bottle was gone.

I crawled back into my bed where I would be safe from all of the bad people of the world.

## Chapter Twenty-four

I must have been asleep for two days. My head was ready to explode and my stomach felt like it was ready to vomit.

I went into the bathroom and vomited. I then took a long hot shower, washed my face, and shaved my legs and underarms. I poured lotion all over my body and put on a long loose-fitting dress.

I took some pain medication for my headache and drank a large glass of orange juice. I had broken my sobriety and I had given in. But the truth was I didn't care. So what if I had drinking problem? Everyone had problems and if I went on a binge now and then, that didn't make me an alcoholic. And if I was, there were worse things that I could be.

I turned on my TV and clicked on the morning news. There was an All-Points Bulletin for Chuck. The FBI and the SJPD had been looking for him the past week and they had come up empty handed. Kristal's trial was set to start in two weeks.

I turned off the TV and grabbed my briefcase. I jumped in my car and headed to my office.

When I got in, there were twenty-seven messages. A few were from the reporters. Five messages were from Reverend Michael Baylor and the rest were from clients.

I erased the media's messages and Michael's messages without hesitation. I wrote down my clients' calls.

The phone rang. I let it ring my customary three times and answered it.

"Myers Detective Agency."

"Hello Jasmine. This is Reverend Michael Baylor. I've been trying to get in touch with you."

"Michael, I am no longer on Kristal's case. I suggest that you talk to Kristal's lawyer or her new private investigator whoever that is."

"Jasmine, it's important. I need to see you as soon as possible."

I said firmly, "I told you I am not on the case."

"All I need is a minute. I am across the street from your office."

I peered out my window and I saw him. I was tempted to say "no." But what was the point? He probably would come over anyway.

Begrudgingly, I told him that I would see him.

A couple minutes later, he appeared at my door. He said, "I need you to come with me and leave everything here."

"Why?"

"Please just do it. It's very important."

When I looked into his eyes, the power in his eyes was too overwhelming. I wanted to say "no," but I couldn't.

I asked, "What about my keys?"

"Just take the key to your office."

I unhooked my key ring and took my key ring. I asked, "Where are we going?"

"Don't worry."

We got into a rented vehicle and got on the 880 freeway.

I asked, "Where are you taking me?"

He answered, "I can't tell you."

Forty minutes later, we got off the freeway at the 98th Avenue exit and drove to Brighton Temple Baptist Church, which was the largest African-American church in Oakland.

"Why are we here?"

"Because I needed to discuss something with you."

"Why did we go all the way to Oakland?"

Michael said nothing and led me downstairs to the basement.

Sitting on a battered couch was Chuck who was wearing a pair of jeans and a faded blue tee shirt.

I said, "Michael, I have to leave. I shouldn't be here."

"Jasmine, Chuck needs to talk to you."

"Michael, you're harboring a fugitive. That is against the law and you could be charged with a felony. I don't want to get involved."

"It's too late."

Why was it that all of Kristal's men were so damn loyal to her? It was like she had some kind of strange mystic power over them.

Chuck cleared his throat and said, "I know you don't want to have anything to do with Kristal because of your ex. But Kristal is innocent and so am I."

"Chuck, if you are, you need to turn yourself into the police."

"It's not that simple. I have some information. But I believe if I go to the police, they will destroy it."

"Why?"

"It's just a gut feeling."

"Chuck, that's not good enough."

"Yeah, it is. They never really helped me with my father's disappearance. There is no way in hell that I would go to them now."

"What do you want from me?"

"You need to go through Ralph's email. Ralph was emailing the Chief."

I began to get angry and I said, "His email. I already went through the email that is how I discovered that Kristal had. . ."

I wanted to say "screwed," but I remembered that I was in the presence of a minister. I then finished my sentence with "an affair with my husband." I continued, "And Michael and she did everything but have so sex so Michael could claim he wasn't violating any of the ten commandments."

Michael looked embarrassed and said nothing.

Chuck said quietly, "You checked Kristal's email, but what about Ralph's?"

"There were emails, but there was nothing to the Chief or about Bill Roberts. There was nothing on the hard drive."

Chuck responded, "That's because he erased it from the hard drive. But Ralph's Internet service provider would have copies of it. I believe that if you get this email, you will find the real killer."

"And how do you know that he was emailing the Chief?"

Chuck said, "Because he told me. He trusted me."

"Trusted you? You were sleeping with his wife."

"I told you before that he didn't know. No one knew."

"How come your niece knew about it?"

"My niece thinks every African-American woman is my girlfriend."

"But you had a picture of Kristal in your wallet."

"How do you know that?"

"Your niece told me and her best friend who is the granddaughter of the Mayor. And you must have told someone about the apartment, because the police raided it."

"No, I never told anyone."

"Did you write down the address?"

"No."

"Then how did the police find out about it?"

"I don't know."

I wanted to tell him that I knew the answer. They knew about the apartment, because the person who had bugged me had tipped the police off. But I said nothing.

Michael looked at me and said, "Jasmine, I know someone has been checking you out and a bug was placed in your briefcase. James told me. That's how the police found out."

"Are you saying that the police are bugging me?"

"Either them or the murderer is leaking information to them. Why do you think I told you to leave everything in your office?"

"Yeah, I figured that's why you were acting so mysterious."

"Jasmine, you have to get Ralph's email and help us."

"Michael, I will think about it and let you know.

"Jasmine, I know you will do the right thing."

"What is going to happen to Chuck? Are you going to keep him here?"

"I can't tell you that. But when the time is right, he will turn himself in."

I looked at Chuck suspiciously and asked, "Is that true?"

"As soon as we get all of the evidence, I will turn myself in."

"I just want to let you both know one thing. I was never here. Understood."

Chuck responded, "Yes, I understand."

Michael said, "So do I."

Michael escorted me out of the church's basement and drove me back to my office.

When he let me out of the rented car, Michael said, "Jasmine, I know you will do the right thing. You are an honorable woman."

I said nothing and closed the passenger door.

When I got into my office, I sat down at my desk and exhaled deeply. A part of me hated Kristal and wanted to have nothing to do with her.

But Mama had taught me that you always have to do right. You can only prosecute the guilty and not the innocent. It was wrong to abuse power for power's sake.

I pulled out the authorization papers from Kristal's file and stared at the papers for a long time. What if Chuck was wrong and there was more evidence against Kristal or something else? My heart had already been ripped into shreds this week and I knew I could not cope with any more emotional trauma. I had no man to comfort me except for James who was Kristal's lawyer and a man who I could never give myself to.

I was tempted to throw the papers away. Kristal had hurt me like no one had done before. Why did I have to get the email? Couldn't someone else do it?

I realized that she had no one else to do it. Chuck was a fugitive and they probably knew about Michael and Keith. Sure, James could get a court order, but that would put the DA on notice. I was in a messed-up position and I hated it.

I thought about calling Ralph's Internet service provider, but I remembered that my phone could be tapped. Yes, I had gotten rid of the bug from my briefcase, but who knows if the bug had been replaced. And with Raul being on vacation, there was no way I could be certain.

I then took the authorization papers, Ralph's death certificate with my keys and left my office.

* * *

I waited an hour at Ralph's Internet provider before a husky woman greeted me. She was in her late thirties and wore too much blue eye shadow and mascara.

I introduced myself and said, "I have authorization to review Ralph Woods' email files." I showed her the authorization papers.

She glanced at the papers and said, "This is signed by Kristal Woods. Who is she?"

"His wife."

"I'm sorry, but we can only release the information to the party."

"Ma'am, Ralph Woods is deceased." I then showed her Ralph's death certificate.

"Sorry, I can't help you. You are going to have to get a court order."

Ms. Blue Eyeshadow was not going to prevent me from getting access. A court order might take at least a couple of days and probably by then, all of Ralph's email would be gone.

I noticed on her desk a picture of a boy who was about two years old. He had unruly blond hair, his ears were too big, and lips were almost non-existent. He was not a cute child. In fact, he was borderline homely.

I smiled and said, "Your son is really cute. When he gets older, he is going to have a hard time keeping the girls away."

Ms. Blue Eyeshadow blushed and said, "You really think so."

I laid it on thick and said, "Yes, he is going to break a lot of ladies' hearts."

"He looks just like his daddy."

They say love is blind and, in this case, it definitely was. I didn't know how long I could keep lying to Ms. Blue Eyeshadow so I decided to tell the lie that she needed to hear.

"Ma'am, Kristal Woods is expecting her first child and there is a strong possibility that the baby may have some birth defect. A birth defect runs in Ralph's family. Ralph was in communication with a doctor about how to test for this birth defect and its cure. Kristal needs to get in touch with him as soon as possible."

"Can't she just call the doctor?"

"She doesn't have his name. Before his death, Ralph mentioned he was emailing the doctor who he found on the Internet."

"What's the birth defect?"

Shit, I could make up something. But who knows how smart Ms. Blue Eyeshadow was. I said, "You know it's some long convoluted name."

"Why can't you ask Mrs. Woods' doctor to help her?"

"Because only this doctor on the Internet knows about the cure and how to test for it. It's all in the experimental stage. With this information, Kristal's baby could be saved. And Kristal doesn't want to lose the baby, because she and Ralph had to try for years. She is already in her late thirties and she may never be able to get pregnant again."

"Are you sure that the baby has the defect?"

"I don't know for sure. But what would you have done if you had found out while you were carrying your son that he had birth defect and there was a way of curing it?"

Ms. Blue Eyeshadow was silent for a few seconds and said, "For the baby, I will release it."

Thank God she bought that bullshit. I was even beginning to believe my story.

Ms. Blue Eyeshadow accessed Ralph's account and made a copy of Ralph's email on a disk for me.

She said, "Ralph Woods had this account with us for the past three years. This is a copy of every email he sent and every email that he received. I hope that this helps the baby."

I smiled and said, "Thank you very much for your help."

I left and headed toward my office.

When I got back to my office, I clicked on my computer and popped in the disk and scanned it. I made a copy of the disk and put a copy in my safe.

I pressed the search button and typed in "Richard Carpenter." There were 156 emails. I typed in "Bill Roberts." There were two emails. These had to be the right ones.

The phone rang. It was my father.

"Hi Jasmine, I was just checking on you to see if everything was alright."

"Yeah, I am doing a lot better."

"You haven't changed your mind about Kristal's case, have you?"

His question took me by surprise. What was I going to say I just saw Chuck who is a fugitive and got a copy of Ralph's email by lying. No, it was better to continue to lie.

"No, Dad. I am off the case for good."

"Well, I have a meeting in a couple of minutes. How about dinner later this week?"

"Sure, Dad. Call me back on Friday and we can set up a time."

"Jazz, I forgot to tell you something. I love you and I'm very proud of you."

"I love you, too."

I hung up the phone. I had never lied to Dad about a case before. Sure, I had refused to tell him about the details about cases before, but I had never told him such a blatant lie. But in this case, it was justified, because someone in the San Jose Police Department was after Kristal. It was too risky to say anything.

I then clicked on the first email regarding Bill Roberts.

To: Ralph Woods

From: Richard Carpenter

Re: Bill Roberts

Date: October 3, 2005

I received your email. You wanted to know why I left the department.

It was too dangerous for me to stay with the department. You know that I was investigating Melvin Grady about the disappearance of Bill Roberts.

At the time, Melvin Grady had worked for the San Jose Police Department and he was a member of the homicide unit. I believe he and the others covered up the disappearance and possible murder of Bill Roberts. I am not sure what the reason was.

It may have something to do with Angela Myers. But as you know, she died a few months later of breast cancer after his disappearance. So we cannot talk to her.

Anyway, there is something else that I need to tell you. It has to do with the laundry mat where you used to do your laundry. That's where you will find the information about the drug dealing. I can't go into details, but you know what I am talking about.

Call me so we schedule a meeting.

Richard

The email confirmed Grady was a drug dealer. But what did my mother have to do with Bill Roberts' disappearance? She had been a prosecuting attorney. Had she found something on Bill Roberts? Or the union? Why hadn't Dad said anything about her?

There was another email from the Chief to Ralph.

To: Ralph Woods

From: Richard Carpenter

Re: Bill Roberts

Date: October 5, 2005

Ralph,

I haven't heard from you. I hope everything is okay. I want to ask you to stop the investigation and tell you the truth why I left.

I left because of my investigation of Melvin Grady and the others who were involved with the homicide unit-especially the officer who was the chief investigating officer. I also have evidence about the drug dealing.

The information that I found could destroy both the Police Department and Fire Department if it is discovered.

They threatened to expose me if I went forward. I know you think that I am coward. But I had to leave, because they were going to out me. Tell everyone that I was gay and my lover had died of AIDS. This isn't San Francisco. I just could not cope with the pressure.

You know that brothers would never accept a black gay man. To them, I would be a faggot who betrayed everyone's trust. The reality is no one would support me and that was something I could not handle.

I want to tell you again that you need to stop investigating or they will hurt you-especially the chief investigating officer.

I love you and Kristal like my own children. So please again, stop investigating.

Richard

Shit, Mark Lindsey was involved. Had he murdered Bill Roberts? And what for? And what did my mother have to do with any of this?

I needed to see Chuck as soon as possible. I couldn't risk seeing Kristal. Besides I might cuss her out again. I was still hurting from finding out about the affair.

I printed a hard copy of the two emails and put them in my safe.

I left my office and headed toward Michael's church.

When I got there, Michael greeted me like he had been expecting me.

He asked, "Did you get the email?"

"Yes, I did. Before Ralph's death, the Chief warned him that the he could be hurt by the chief investigating officer who had been investigated Bill Roberts' disappearance.'

"Who was the chief investigating officer?"

"A couple of weeks ago, I had a conversation with my father and he told me that it was Mark Lindsey."

"Mark Lindsey killed Bill Roberts?"

"I didn't say that. But also Melvin Grady played a role in part of the investigation." I didn't want to say anything about my mother, because I felt that I needed to protect her.

"Okay, so do you think Mark Lindsey killed or had Ralph killed?"

"I don't know. My father told me to stop investigating Bill Roberts or I could be hurt. But I need to see Chuck because I need to ask him a few more questions."

"Jasmine, he has been moved to another location. I don't know where it is."

"I need to see him as soon as possible."

"I will see what I can do."

I left and headed toward the Hall of Justice. When I arrived, I went to the records department.

I clicked on Mama's name and found the list of cases that she had handled. There were not any listed against Melvin Grady, Mark Lindsey or anyone else in the department. Maybe nothing had been filed, because Mama only had started an investigation.

I went to the library and pulled out the microfiche clips on criminal activities during those years. After two hours of reviewing this information, I found nothing. My head was throbbing.

I looked for information about unions and found nothing.

I then looked under Mama's name. To my surprise, there was microfiche under her name.

There were a number of clippings about Mama's victories in criminal trials. Mama had received the Citizen of Year Award from Mayor Bill Roberts.

There was a clipping dated November 16, 1982 that Mama had been investigating the San Jose Fire Union for possible involvement with Bill Roberts' disappearance. Another clipping showed that the union had been cleared after Mama's death.

So the union had been cleared like my father said. What did my mother have to do with Bill Roberts' disappearance?

I needed to talk to someone who I could trust.

When I arrived at George Stone's office, he was in the lobby. He said, "What can I do for you?"

"I want to talk you about Bill Roberts."

"Bill Roberts. I already told you that I did not know who he was."

"He was Chuck Roberts' father."

"Oh him. I remember him vaguely. He was before my time."

"Is there anyone who I can talk to?"

"There's a couple of old timers I know. But they are no longer working with the department. In fact, one of them just passed away and the other is retired."

"What's his name?"

"Barry Brown. I remember he told me a long time ago that he was a part of the union that got investigated. He definitely would be a good source for information."

"Is he here locally?"

"No, he moved to Scottsdale, Arizona a few years ago. He met a teacher there and married her."

"Do you have his address and phone number?"

George typed "Barry Brown" on his computer and pulled up his last address and phone number. He handed it to me. He said, "Jasmine, I hope this helps you."

"So do I."

* * *

A few hours later, I was in Scottsdale, Arizona. Scottsdale was a tourist stop for millionaires. Galleries had $68,000 statutes and $2,500 Hopi Indian dolls for sale. Virtually all of the Indian trading stores were white owned. Native Americans were relegated to a few stores where they earned pennies compared to their white counterparts.

I knocked on the door of Barry Brown's home. An older man with a paunch and a head full of white hair opened the door. I introduced myself and asked for Barry Brown.

He answered, "I am him. Are you with the Attorney General's office?"

"No. Why?"

"They are investigating the school district and the union."

"Oh."

"You're not from around here."

"No, I am from California. I am investigating the disappearance of Bill Roberts."

"Bill Roberts. That was over twenty years ago."

"You were involved with the union back then, weren't you?

"Yeah, I was. And we were cleared."

"I have a few questions."

"Look miss, I don't know why you are here. And I don't understand why you are asking me about Bill Roberts."

"My client is being charged with the murders of three firefighters. She is innocent. They're somehow linked to Bill Roberts."

"Yeah, I heard about the murders. But what does Bill Roberts have to do with anything?'

"Just before Ralph Woods was killed, Richard Carpenter emailed him a note telling him to stop investigating Bill Roberts' disappearance or he would be hurt by the chief investigating officer. I believe that this man ordered the deaths of Ralph Woods, Richard Carpenter and killed Dan Fulton as a cover up."

"Then you should to go the police with that."

"I can't, because he is the police chief."

"Ron Myers is the Chief now. I'll be damned."

"No, Mark Lindsey is the Police Chief and he was the chief investigating officer for Bill Roberts' disappearance."

"No, you are wrong. Ron Myers was. I know that as a fact, because he personally interviewed me. Now what did you say that your name was?"

Shit, Dad had lied to me. What did he have to do with Bill Roberts' disappearance? I couldn't tell this man my real name.

I answered, "Jasmine. Jasmine Rawlings."

"I thought you said Myers when you introduced yourself."

I could feel the heat rising to my face. I looked at him straight in the eyes and said, "No, I told you Rawlings."

"Hmm. Sometimes I hear things wrong. I am getting old you know."

"Anyway Mr. Brown, can you tell me anything about Ron Myers?"

"Lady, have you got all day? Ron is a lying sonabitch. He would do anything to screw anyone over."

He had just insulted my father. I wanted to scream to leave my father alone. But I knew better. Instead, I said, "Really."

"That bastard made it his business to know everyone's business. He knew about crooked cops who sold drugs and who the politicians were screwing, and just about everyone's personal business. But in the end, it hurt him."

"How?"

"He found out that his old lady was screwing the Mayor."

My heart had just been ripped out of my chest. I already had gone through enough emotional pain. I couldn't believe that Mama had slept with Chuck's father. How could she? What the hell was wrong with her?

I swallowed hard and asked, "What did he do?"

"Myers had shit on Bill Roberts. He was a quadroon- one-quarter black who was passing for a white man. Back then for a black man to be over a city with almost no black people was almost unheard of."

"What about Tom Bradley? He was elected to Mayor of LA back in the seventies."

"There's over twenty percent blacks in Los Angeles. But in San Jose, there were less than 5% blacks. And racism was common as the flu. No, if that information was revealed, Bill Roberts' career would have been over."

"Did Myers reveal it?"

"No, because the union was pissed off at Bill for stacking the Civil Service Commission with non-union commissioners. Myers was hoping that the union would push him out during the election. But Bill won and a week later he disappeared."

"How come this didn't come out during the investigation?"

"Because like I said before Myers had shit on everybody. No one wanted to mess with him."

"What do you think happened to Bill Roberts?"

"The obvious. When Myers couldn't kill Roberts politically, he did it the old-fashioned way. Myers is one cold hearted calculating sonabitch."

"What did his wife do for a living?"

"She was the star deputy district attorney."

"Didn't she know about her husband's plan?"

"No. She knew nothing. She was too wrapped up with Bill."

"Myers must have confronted her about Bill."

"He might have. But in the end, he had nothing. His wife died a few months later of cancer. It's too bad, because they had a little girl. I wonder what happened to her."

I wanted to blurt out; she just died learning the truth about her parents. Instead, I coolly said, "I don't know what happened to her. Anyway, if Myers killed Bill Roberts, where is the body?"

"It is buried six feet probably under Myers' house."

A dead man buried under the house. Dad had said the same thing.

Brown had to be lying. There was no way that Dad was a killer. I said, "So how come after all of these years, you never went to the police?"

"I told you Myers had shit on everybody. I wasn't about to lose everything. I had fought my way out of the Indian reservation and had made a name for myself. But I was no angel. I had taken bribes that I should not have taken and screwed whores like they were going out of style. No, I was not innocent."

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"I just don't give a shit anymore. I am 66 years old and my liver is shot to hell and I have been diagnosed with emphysema. At most, I have a couple months left.

Besides the same shit is happening to my wife who is the president of the teacher's union at school district. They are trying to pin shit on the union and I can tell you that my wife is one honest lady. She follows the book to the very last rule."

"Okay, so if we need you as a witness, can I call you?"

"Sure, if I am around."

I drafted a declaration and handed it to Mr. Brown. I said, "Just in case you're not, can you sign this?"

He reviewed the declaration and signed it.

"By the way can I have your card?"

I thought about lying and telling him that I didn't have one. Instead, I swallowed hard and said, "I need to tell you something. My name is not Jasmine Rawlings. Rawlings is my ex-husband's name. My name is Jasmine Myers."

Mr. Brown looked at me and said, "I know that kid. You look just like your father, but you have your mother's integrity. I am sorry that you had to learn the truth."

"So am I."

He then shook my hand.

* * *

I drove to Old Scottsdale and parked in the parking lot on Main Street. I got out of my rented car and walked around aimlessly.

My head felt like it ready to explode. Dad had killed not one but six people. He had bugged my briefcase and lied to me. But how did he know about my meeting with the Chief? I hadn't told him. He must have bugged me after that. Maybe some how he was innocent.

I called Lydia Ramirez and identified myself.

"I was calling to see my father had spoken the Chief after I called."

"Yes, I remember he did. He called right after you called that day."

"Do you remember what the Chief told him?"

"I wasn't in the habit of eavesdropping on his conversations, but the Chief did mention to me after your father's call that he had told your father that you had called and that you had scheduled a meeting with him."

Her words made me feel queasy. That call had tipped my father off. He knew if I spoke to the Chief, I might have learned the truth. He had no choice but to kill the Chief. He then killed Dan to cover up his tracks.

And once I started investigating about Grady's drug dealing and the fabricated probate, Dad had to kill again. Or the truth would come out that he had been blackmailing Grady for years. He first threatened to expose Phillip Meeks' sexual orientation. He knew that Meeks would rather kill himself than risk that kind of exposure. He then killed Grady and his wife so that Chuck could be framed. And with each killing, Dad knew that no one would link him to anything, because everyone was afraid of him.

God, I wanted to throw up right now. I took a deep breath and said, "Why didn't you tell me this initially when I asked you if anyone knew about my meeting with the Chief?"

Lydia replied, "You asked me did I tell anybody. I answered it truthfully that I hadn't. Besides, I assumed that because your father was in homicide that you would have told him about it. Why are you asking me these questions?"

I lied, "Sometimes Dad and I compete on who will solve a crime first."

She said in disgust, "Well, good luck to you." She then hung up the phone.

God, my head was pounding and my stomach was hurting to the point where I could barely breathe. The murderer was my father and he would get the death penalty. Or if he were lucky, he would be sentenced to the rest of his life in prison. Why should he spend the rest of his life with rapists, murderers, and other criminals? But he had killed six people and that was wrong.

But Bill Roberts had an affair with Mama. Dad couldn't help himself. It was a crime of passion.

That might be true for Bill Roberts' murder. But he had killed three other people to cover up his tracks. Three innocent people who had done nothing to him. How could anyone with a sense of morality let him get away? Then he killed two other people. A drug dealer and his wife.

Kristal was not innocent. She had slept with my husband. She was an evil woman. But did she deserve to die because of my father's actions?

But Chuck had not done anything to me. And Dad had killed his father. That was wrong. Chuck deserved justice.

Yes, Kristal had destroyed a part of me, but not all of me. Dad had done the rest of the destruction.

I thought I knew who Dad was. Wasn't he a kind and loving father? Hadn't he always been there for me?

And if it hadn't been for Mama's affair, he never would have killed Bill Roberts. Wasn't it Mama's fault? If she had honored her marriage vows, Bill Roberts would be still alive and maybe even Mama too. She might have gotten the cancer as punishment for her adultery.

But Bill Roberts didn't deserve to die and neither did Mama. How many people had broken their marriage vows? Had they all been punished?

Wouldn't James find out this anyway? But Barry Brown was in such bad shape, he might not even live to testify.

But that was ridiculous, the trial was only a few weeks away. And if he testified, Kristal's life would be spared. If not, she would be sentenced to death and when they found Chuck so would he. Even if Barry Brown didn't make it, I still had his declaration that could be produced as evidence.

Of course, I could destroy it. If I didn't, Dad would get the death penalty. How could I do that?

I was sick with pain. I had no idea what I was going to do.

I drove by the store and picked up a few items and checked in a local hotel.

I pulled out the bottle of whiskey. I stared at the bottle hard. This was the second time this week that I would be drinking. I wanted to say "no," but I couldn't. Whiskey had seduced me like an old lover.

I was in so much pain that I needed him now. One sip would be okay. That's all I needed. I just needed to taste it. I pressed my lips to the bottle and took a sip. God, it tasted good. I looked at the bottle and it beckoned me to take more. With each sip, I wanted to stop, but I couldn't. Within fifteen minutes, the bottle was gone.

I wanted more and a stared at the second bottle. Yes, I had bought two bottles because tonight was a special night. One hadn't been enough. I just needed a sip of whiskey again. That's all I needed. But it tasted so good, I couldn't stop. I wanted to finish. But I couldn't, because everything turned black.

## Chapter Twenty-five

When I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital bed with an IV needle in my right arm. Sheila was standing over me with bloodshot eyes.

I grumbled, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"The hospital called me."

Sheila was listed on my emergency card identification card. I didn't list Dad because I didn't want him to know about my problem. This hadn't been the first time that I had been in the hospital for alcohol poisoning. I had been in the hospital at least three other times. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Jasmine, if the maid hadn't found you, you would have been dead. Girl, what is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," I lied. I couldn't tell her that Dad was a murderer.

"Jasmine Myers, don't give me that bullshit. I didn't fly my ass all the way from San Jose to hear this bullshit. Girl, you need to come clean with me."

"Look, it's personal."

"It's personal my ass. Jazz, whatever it is, you can tell me. You don't need to kill yourself with alcohol. I love you like a sister and I don't want to lose you."

"Sheila, I can't tell you. It's between me and God."

"When did you start believing in God?"

"Sheila, just leave me alone. I'm going to be fine."

"That's bullshit. I am not leaving until you check in a rehab center."

"I am not going to rehab. It is a waste of time."

"Jazz, you're going to wind up dead if you don't get help."

"I don't need you to lecture me. I can stop if I want to."

"That's what you always say. So what happened? Was it Keith? Me? Or someone else?"

"To be honest, it was you and Keith earlier this week."

"What? You drank earlier this week. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want to. And besides, I thought I had recovered until I... ."

"Until you what?"

"Nothing, I can't tell you."

"I am staying here until you tell me."

I wailed, "Sheila, it's none of your goddamn business. Just leave me alone."

"I am not going anywhere."

I screamed, "Leave me alone. Get out here now."

"Jasmine, I am not leaving."

"I am going to call the nurse to remove you."

"Go ahead. I'm not leaving."

I rang my buzzer and a tall heavyset nurse appeared at my door.

I said, "Nurse, I want this person removed."

Sheila protested, "Nurse, she doesn't know what she wants. I need to stay with her."

I said, "I don't want to see her. I want her to leave now."

The nurse turned to Sheila and said, "She wants you to leave. My only choice is to ask you to leave."

Sheila turned to me and said, "Jasmine, I'll be waiting for you in the lobby. You are not going anywhere without me."

I said nothing. Sheila left.

I looked around my bed and saw my briefcase and purse. At least, the motel had sent my belongings to the hospital. Or Sheila might have picked my things up. I got out of bed and took my briefcase with me to the bathroom.

I sat on the toilet and opened my briefcase and pulled out the declaration. I stared at it for a long time. I wanted to flush it down the toilet, but I couldn't.

I felt sick to my stomach. I had never really known Dad. Everything had been a lie. I wanted to confront Dad, but that would be too dangerous. If he had killed six people, he might even kill his own daughter.

But I also knew if I did nothing, Dad would be fine until the next time he felt the need to kill again.

I knew I needed to decide soon. I felt like the Unabomber's brother who had turned him into the authorities. But the Unabomber had been a deranged, sick man who killed professors and others for the hell of it.

At least, Dad had a reason to kill. He first killed for passion and then to cover up his tracks. But did that make Dad any better?

No, like Barry Brown said, Dad was a cold-hearted calculating sonabitch. And two people were depending on me to come forward. But at what price?

I took a deep breath and exhaled deeply. I wanted to get rid of the pain that I was feeling. But that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

* * *

The next day I was released from the hospital. When I walked into the lobby of the hospital, Sheila was waiting for me. She looked worse than I did. Her hair was limp and her face was drawn and tired.

Sheila said, "Jazz, I am not going to ask you anything. I just want to take you home."

I said, "I need to get my car from the hotel."

"It's already been taken care of. I turned it in yesterday. I also have two tickets for San Jose, the plane leaves in three hours."

I wanted to protest, but I was too weak to say anything.

Sheila summoned a taxi. We rode in silence to the airport. We then boarded the plane. We didn't talk for the next few hours.

When we got back to my house, Sheila said, "I am staying with you until you get better."

"I am fine. You can leave now."

"You are not fine. And I am not leaving. You may have gotten that nurse to throw me out of your room. But no one is going to throw me out from here not even your father."

Why did she have to mention him? The last person that I wanted to think about was him.

"Sheila, please leave."

"I'm not and that's final. I am going to take a shower and I need some clean clothes."

"I don't have anything that will fit you."

"All I need is a pair of sweats and a tee-shirt. It doesn't matter what size they are. It's not like I'm going out or anything."

I mumbled, "Okay."

Sheila then went into the bathroom. I rummaged through my clothes for a pair of sweats and found a pair that was too short for me and an oversized tee shirt. At least, she will be satisfied.

The phone rang. I didn't feel like answering it so I let the answering machine pick it up.

It was Dad. He said, "Jasmine, where are you? I have been calling for three days and you have not returned my calls. I came by the house and you weren't there. Are you okay?"

God, I didn't want to talk to him. But if I didn't, he would just show up at my front door.

I picked up the phone and said, "Hi."

"Jazz, where have you been?"

I wanted to say, "to hell," but I knew that I couldn't tell him the truth. I said, "I went out of town for a few days."

"Where?"

I couldn't tell him Arizona, so I said, "Reno."

"Reno? Why did you go there?

"I didn't want to tell you, but I met this guy and we went there and we had a blast."

"You went to Reno with some guy. Why would you do something like that?"

"Dad, look I am 37 years old. I'm not getting any younger. This guy is a really nice person and we clicked. So we decided to go away."

"What's his name?"

Shit his name. God, I better make up a believable name. So I said, "Warren."

"Warren. What's his last name."

I wanted to say Whiskey, but that would be stupid. Instead, I said, "Whitney."

"Warren Whitney. What does he do for a living?"

"Warren is self-employed."

"In other words, he has no money."

"Dad, he's doing well financially."

"Jazz, when do I get to meet him?"

Meet him. Shit, never.

"Dad, he just had to go back east on a business trip. He won't be back for a couple of weeks."

"Jasmine, when he comes back, we will have dinner."

"Sure, Dad. I'll let him know when I talk to him tonight."

"Oh Jazz, you better just check him out to make sure everything is okay with him. You know what I mean."

"I already did that. Warren isn't married. He's all mine." That was the truth.

"Good for you. Anyway, how about dinner later this week?"

I lied and said, "Sure. "I then hung up the phone. I was amazed how well I had lied.

When I turned around, Sheila was standing in the living room with a towel draped around her. Why did you lie to your father and tell him that you went to Reno with a guy?" She asked.

"Because I didn't want him to know that I was in the hospital in Arizona, because of my drinking." And I didn't want Dad to know that I knew he was the murderer.

"Jazz, you need to tell your father the truth. Call him back now and tell him the truth."

"I can't do that. It is none of his business."

"Your father is your only family. You have to tell him. He can help you."

"Sheila, I am sick of you lecturing me. Stay out my relationship with my father. And if you tell him anything, I will never speak to you again."

"Jazz, you're making a mistake."

"No, I am not. Now here are your clothes. I am going to bed now."

I crawled into bed and went back to sleep for a few hours.

I woke up shaking from a nightmare. In my dream, I saw Dad strapped to a chair. Kristal was the executioner for the state of California. She was holding hands with Chuck who was rubbing her belly.

I saw Mama dressed in an old gray dress splattered with mildew and blood. She couldn't talk, but she was waving a note with something illegible scrawled on it. Keith and Sheila were chanting, "Give him the lethal injection. He's a murderer."

Kristal said, "It's now his time to die." She then raised the needle to Dad. I ran toward Kristal and wrestled her to the ground. Chuck grabbed the needle from Kristal and stuck inside Dad. Dad screamed, "Jazz, you are a traitor. You shall be damned forever." After that, he was dead. Mama beckoned me to hug her for comfort. When I did, she vanished leaving a trail of blood throughout the chambers.

Was I losing my mind? What was happening to me? Who was I to judge Dad's actions? And why should I be the one to turn him in?

I simply did not have the strength to do it. I was too afraid of the repercussions. I had already lost Mama. And now I would lose Dad forever.

I needed to talk someone. But who? There was no one that I trusted. I then thought of someone who I could go to. But I couldn't tell Sheila where I was going.

I locked the door to my room and climbed out the window and walked to the bus stop on Monterey Road. I took the 68 bus to Monterey and Curtner and walked to the place where I needed to go.

When I got there, I entered the gates of the cemetery. I hadn't seen Mama since her last birthday. I needed to talk to her and see what the right thing was to do.

I kneeled on her grave and said, "Mama, I know about your affair with Bill Roberts. It was wrong for you to cheat on Dad. How could you do that to him?"

Tears ran down my face and I cried, "I also know that Dad killed your lover Bill and I don't know what to do. He also killed five other people. And a woman and her lover are facing the death penalty for murders that they did not commit. But this woman Kristal is not innocent. She had an affair with my husband, while we were married.

Mama, I know I should turn in Dad, but I don't want him to die. I don't want to be the cause of his death. I just can't do it. What should I do? Please help me."

I let out a wailing sound and began to cry uncontrollably. I wanted Mama to be there and hold me. I wanted her to guide me and love me. Why couldn't she be here?

I cried and cried until my eyes were swollen. I wiped the tears from my face and sat silently over my mother's grave.

I looked at the sky and waited for an answer, but none came. I stared at my mother's grave and thought about Mama's perfume. I missed the scent of her perfume. It was always so fresh.

I needed to smell it now. I then remembered where the perfume was. It was packed away with Mama's other belongings in El Sol's Storage which was just two blocks away.

I said to Mama's grave, "Thank you. You have helped me."

I walked from Mama's grave to El Sol's Storage. I remembered I did not have the key, because Dad had the only copy. What was I going to do? It was still daylight, so there had to be someone in the office. I went into the office and saw a woman in her sixties with short blue gray curly hair.

I said, "My name is Jasmine Myers and I am a private investigator. I am here to look at the storage garage for my mother Angela Myers. But I need you to open it for me, because I don't have the key."

The woman looked at me suspiciously and said, "Why don't you get it from your mother?"

"Because she's dead. The garage has my mother's belongings, but my father has the key."

"Then you should get the key from him."

"I can't, because he is in the hospital in Arizona. He just wants me to bring him a couple things."

"Why?"

"Ma'am, I don't want to burden you with my problems, but the doctor told my father that he may not make it through the night. He just wants to see the letters my mother wrote to him while they were dating and a bottle of her perfume. He wants this so he can join her in heaven."

"Sorry, miss. I didn't know. Let me go and get the key. For your sake, I hope he pulls through. It's hard enough to lose one parent, but two is too much. I know what that's like, because I lost my mother three years ago and my father died last year."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"But you miss are so young. That just isn't fair." She then handed me the key.

I walked to Mama's storage garage. When I opened the door, it was very musty inside and it was full of cobwebs. It looked like no one had been inside it since my mother's belongings were brought here.

I looked at the boxes, which were carefully labeled. I saw a box labeled Angela's personal belongings. I opened up the box and saw Mama's perfume and letters. I sprayed the perfume on my hand and inhaled it. It smelled sweet like Mama had.

I looked at the letters. Several of them were from when Mama and Dad were dating. I saw a letter to Dad dated March 11, 1983.

Ron,

The love died between you and me years ago. You blamed me for the miscarriages. You told me because I was evil, I lost my babies. How could you say such a thing?

You made me feel worthless. It was not until I graduated from law school that I started feeling worthy again.

And you withdrew from me like I had done something wrong.

It's no wonder that I found myself in the arms of another man.

Ron, I never intended to hurt you. I was looking for love. That's all I ever wanted.

I am sorry how you learned about our affair. I had no idea that you went through my papers on a regular basis. I am sorry that you read the letters.

Letters where he not only told me that he loved me, but where he had confessed that he had been passing as a white man. His mother was a fair skinned mulatto, who had died when Bill was a child and his father was a white man. Bill had told everyone that his mother was Italian. No one knew about him passing as a white man. Not even his wife or children.

You wanted to ruin his career by exposing this. How could you? You knew that there was no way in hell that San Jose would elect a black mayor. How could you be so evil?

You told me that you would not do this on the condition that I stop seeing him.

I told you I wanted a divorce. You told me that if I sought a divorce, you would charge me with adultery and turn Jasmine against me.

I tried to stop seeing him, but I couldn't. I was too in love with him to end our affair.

You tried to ruin him with the union, but that failed.

A week later after the election, you killed him. Yes, Ron I know you did it.

I know that you buried the body under the house. I saw you digging in the backyard that night. You told me that you were planting a garden. But you dug up at least six feet and that was deep enough to bury him.

I also know that you probably killed him with your gun and you probably are storing it as a keepsake.

How sick can you be?

Now, you may want to ask how come I never went to the police? Because Ron, I am too weak to go through an interrogation and I only have a few weeks left to live.

Yes, I should have gone to the police in November, when I first suspected. But I was hoping that I was wrong. That was also the same time that I learned that I had cancer.

When I first told you I had breast cancer, you told me that God was punishing me for my evil actions. Right then, I wanted to die. How could you be so heartless?

But I did not want Jasmine to lose two parents at the same time. I did not want to hurt her.

I did nothing and I regret to this day that I did nothing. But Ron, you are not free. No, even after my death, I will be watching every move you make.

And I do have a secret to tell you. I told someone about you being the killer. This person isn't going to come forward now, but this person will tell the truth eventually. And when truth is told, may God show mercy for your soul.

And Ron, I do have one favor to ask you. Continue to pretend that you are a loving father to Jasmine. Never let her down the way you let me down. She is your flesh and blood, so you must treat her right.

-Angela

I stared at my mother's letter for a long time. She had known the truth, but she had done nothing. Was this a sign that I was not to go forward? I left the garage clutching my mother's letter and perfume. I returned the key to the lady in the front office.

"Thank you for letting me into my mother's storage."

"I hope you found what you needed for your father. Again, I am really sorry you are going to lose him."

"So am I."

I walked to Monterey bus stop to catch the 68-bus home. When I got back home, Sheila was standing on my front porch.

She glared at me and said, "Where have you been?"

I said, "Soul searching."

"Have you been drinking again?"

"No, I haven't."

She smelled my breath. "Good. Why did you leave?"

"Sheila, I'm not in the mood to answer your questions. I need to go to my office. If you want to come, you can go with me."

"Okay, I will go with you."

* * *

When we arrived at my office, there were over forty messages on my answering machine. A few were from the media and the others were from clients except one message that was from Barry Brown's wife. According to her message, Barry had died peacefully in his sleep last night. She had found my card on the dining room table and said if I had any questions, I should call her. I played that message three times.

Sheila asked, "Why are you replaying that message?"

"Because I want to."

I pulled out Barry's declaration, my mother's letter and Ralph's email. I was tempted to shred everything so Dad's life would be spared.

But without it, Kristal and Chuck would be sentenced to die. Their child or Kristal's child would never really know them. Was that fair? Was that right? But I would lose Dad forever.

I began to type on the computer about the case and finished a few minutes later with my conclusion. I printed the document and put it in my briefcase along with the declaration, Mama's letter, and Ralph's emails.

I said to Sheila, "We need to leave now."

"Where are we going?"

"Don't worry about it."

Sheila reluctantly followed me out of the office. We jumped into my car and drove to the one office that I needed to go to.

We saw the receptionist and asked for him. He came out and took Sheila and me into his office.

I said, "James, I have something to show you."

I pulled out my summary of the case, my mother's letter, Barry Brown's declaration, and Ralph's emails and handed over to him.

He read the documents and said nothing for a long time. It felt like eternity.

Finally, he said, "Jasmine, you are a courageous woman. I know how hard this is for you."

Sheila asked, "What is he talking about?"

He looked at Sheila and said, "You don't know?"

Sheila asked, "Know what?"

I said, "I didn't tell her anything."

James said, "Jasmine, can I show her this?"

I nodded and James handed her the documents.

Sheila read the documents and started to cry.

"I'm so sorry Jasmine. I never knew. Please forgive me."

"Sheila, once I found out. I needed some time to think about it. I am sorry for the hell that I put you through."

She hugged me and said, "That is what best friends are for."

James said, "I know that you are probably concerned that he's going to get the death penalty."

"Will he?"

"It's highly unlikely. He's a cop. And to charge him with the death penalty, will destroy the department. I don't think the D.A. would be willing to do that.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive"

"Jasmine, let's go meet with the Chief."

When we got up to leave, to my horror Dad was standing at the door to James' office. Dad said angrily, "Jazz, you lied to me. Trying to tell me some bullshit that you had met a man and went away with him to Reno."

"Dad, I had a reason."

Dad said, "I know what that reason is. And I am not going to prison." He then grabbed Sheila by her arm and pointed a gun to her head.

"Dad, let her go. She's innocent."

Dad shouted, "The town slut is innocent? Bullshit!"

"Dad, please let her go. If you want to hurt someone, please let it be me."

James interjected, "Lieutenant Myers, everything is going to fine. I'll guarantee it."

Dad yelled, "No, James, everything is not going to be fine. You are about to screw my life up and send me to prison. You are nothing but a low life opportunist. Now, if the Chief or any other law enforcement official is contacted, Sheila is dead. And that is not a mere threat. It will be carried out. So don't screw with me."

James replied, "Lieutenant. Myers, we won't notify anyone."

Dad said sarcastically, "James don't try to bullshit me. And as for you Jazz, I am disappointed. Goddamn it. But I should have known you would tell somebody about me. You are just too goddamn honest for your own damn good."

"Dad, what do you want?"

"For this to go away. Jazz, I told you not to investigate. Goddamn it, I even gave you a reason to stop investigating. But you continued anyway."

"You knew about the affair before I told you. You knew about the emails and you didn't try to warn me. Dad, you knew that I had to investigate because it's in my bones."

"Jazz, I make it my business to know everyone's business. I'm nobody's fool. Sure, I knew about your deadbeat husband and Kristal's affair. You had to be blind not to know. And yeah, I knew about Kristal and that so-called white boy Chuck Roberts. And yes, I know the Mayor's giving up Keith as a baby. And I know about Melvin Grady's drug dealings. And hell, I know everyone who your goddamn slut friend Sheila has slept with. I even know about James' little problem with herpes. And Jazz, as quiet as you kept it, I even know about your problem with alcohol. Yes, Jazz, I know everything."

Dad's words slammed me like he had just run me over with a big rig. Every part of my body ached. My head felt like it was going to explode any moment. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. Because if I did, Sheila might be killed. "Dad, let Sheila go."

"I will do no such thing. In fact, darling daughter, I have a plan for you. Yes, I do. I am going to teach you a lesson about loyalty. Your mother wasn't loyal to me. So she got what she deserved. I hurt the most important person in her life- Bill Roberts. I tried to do it politically, but it didn't work. So, he had to be destroyed."

"Dad, what are you talking about?"

Dad took the gun from Sheila's head and pointed it at me. He said gruffly, "Come over here, now."

"Dad, I'm not moving."

"Jazz, I'm not going to kill my own daughter. But if you do not move, I will kill James."

James said, "Go ahead."

Dad stared at him and said, "Don't push me. I am not playing. If Jazz doesn't come here right now, you're gone."

Sheila said, "Jazz, please do what your father says."

Dad said, "Listen to your slut friend."

My body began to tremble and I started to cry. My legs shook as I walked toward Dad. Dad grabbed me with his left hand and said, "Now, put your hand on the trigger of the gun."

"Dad, I can't."

"Do it now or your friend will die."

I put my right hand on the trigger.

Dad ordered, "Good Jazz. Now you and I are going to pull the trigger together and watch Sheila die."

I screamed, "Dad, no I can't."

James said, "Please Lieutenant.Myers, kill me."

Dad screamed, "James shut up. No, your job will be to defend my daughter. And knowing you, you will do it quite well. Now, Jazz on the count of three, we will pull the trigger together. One. . .two. . .and. . ."

James ran toward Dad. Dad grabbed the gun from me and pointed it at his head.

I cried, "Dad don't do it! Please don't do it!"

Dad said, "It's all over now." He pulled the trigger and blood gushed out from his head. Dad dropped to the ground with his clothes drenched in blood. His eyes rolled back.

I screamed, "No!" My body shook like it had been struck by lightning and I kept screaming "No!" I wanted to hold Dad, but I couldn't. I was too weak to do anything. All I could do was to scream. I couldn't stop screaming. I just couldn't stop screaming.

Everything was closing in on me and my body began to shake uncontrollably. I was losing my mind. I was losing my soul. I was losing everything.

I wanted to scream, "Please help me! Please someone help me!" But I couldn't, because I had lost all control. Then everything turned black.

## Chapter Twenty-six

I thought I had gone 5150 and had a nervous breakdown. But I hadn't. Instead, when I regained conscious, Sheila was kneeling over me.

Dad's body had been removed from James' office. But the stench of Dad's blood was overwhelming. I wanted to throw up.

Sheila took my left hand and said, "Jasmine, I am so sorry about your father."

I wanted to respond, but I couldn't. I was completely numb.

Sheila continued, "Jasmine, let me take you home."

I nodded slowly. I then got up and walked around the office. I mumbled, "Where is James?"

Sheila replied, "James went with the police to make a statement."

We walked to the car in silence and Sheila drove me home.

Sheila said, "I'll be here as long as be you need me."

I didn't need Sheila. I needed Dad to be alive. Why did he kill himself? Why did he do this to me?

I stared at the walls and said, "Sheila, I'll be okay. You can go home."

"Jazz, don't lie to me. You are not okay. Your father just died."

"He killed himself because of me."

"No, Jazz. It had nothing to do with you."

"Bullshit, if I hadn't investigated the case, my father would be still alive. It's all my fault."

"No, it's not. Your father had a problem. He was a murderer who was out of control. He chose to kill himself. No one pointed the gun at his head."

"Sheila, don't rationalize my father's actions. It's my fault and I just want to be alone."

"I'm not leaving."

"Sheila, if you don't leave, I am going to call the police."

"You want me to leave so you can drink yourself to death."

"No, I don't."

"Don't lie to me. Jazz, I know you. I don't want you to die."

"Sheila, I'm not going to drink."

"Jazz, you're lying to me."

"You think I would drink after what just happened. Come on."

"Jazz, you have to promise me that you won't drink."

"Sheila, I promise. Please leave."

Sheila left the house. I then jumped in my car and went to the store and bought three bottles of whiskey. Okay, so I lied. But it didn't matter. Dad had just killed himself and I had nothing to live for.

When I got home, Sheila was standing at the front door.

She pointed at the bag and screamed, "You lied to me."

"Sheila, what do you want from me?"

"I want you to admit that you have a problem. I want you to get help."

I cried, "Sheila, leave me alone. I am a grown woman and I know how to handle my business."

Sheila cried, "You don't know how to take care of your business. If you did, you wouldn't have bought that poison."

She then grabbed the bag and threw all three bottles on the ground. Sweet smelling whiskey oozed out from the broken glass.

I screamed, "Are you crazy? Do you how much that cost me?"

Sheila cried, "I just saved your life. You will get help and I will stay here until you do."

I yelled, "Go away."

Sheila said, "I'm never going away. You are stuck with me for the rest of your life. And your life will be a long life."

At that point, I didn't know what to say. Sheila's dedication to me was overwhelming.

I then opened the front door and left it open for Sheila to follow me inside.

## Epilogue

Sheila made me realize that I had to make some serious changes in my life. The first was admitting that I was an alcoholic and that I needed help.

I also had to get off this baby trip until I was healed. There was no way that I could be a mother to a child, when I couldn't take care of myself.

I am currently in therapy. It's not like I have a choice. I have to go so I can stay alive.

I can't thank Sheila enough for her support. In fact, once I am healed, I am going to find her daughter. That's the least that I can do for her.

As for Keith and Loretta, they lost the baby. When I first found out, I was kind of happy because I felt Keith had gotten what he deserved. But that was the old me and I know that way of thinking is wrong.

Kristal and Chuck were exonerated and they had a baby girl. A paternity test proved that Chuck was the father. But they never got married, not even after Kristal found out that Chuck was an octoroon.

Patrice is still out of control chasing younger men and raising hell at City Hall. George Stone was promoted to Fire Chief. James is working on a big murder case with Raul. Michael is still preaching at the church. Some people never change.

Every now and then, I still think about the mistakes that Mama and Dad made. But I realize now that I had no control over their actions; and I am not going to waste my time blaming them for what did or did not work in my own life. You have to let go of the past and live your life in the present. Some days are harder than others, but I take each day as it comes.

_______

I hope you have enjoyed my novel, "No One Is Innocent: A Jasmine Myers Mystery." If you have any comments, feel free to email me at gayletiller@yahoo.com.
