| Mystery and Crime Fiction posted March 11, 2024 | Chapters: |
...12 13 -14- 15... 
|
  |
2 Stabbings, Shots fired, Man Down
A chapter in the book Living On The Edge
Living On The Edge - Chap 14
by Begin Again
CHAPTER 14
Layla stepped out of the taxi, handed the cabbie the fare, and moved to the sidewalk. She hadn't expected it to be so crowded, though it was no different from the sidewalks and clubs in New York—a little seedier but certainly not a dive. She told Jake she could do this, but now she needed to prove it.
Before her courage dissipated, she moved toward the bar entrance. She could hear the jukebox even outside. A tall cowboy tipped his hat to her and opened the door. "Welcome to the Lazy Saloon. Y'all have a good evening, miss."
Layla nodded and stepped through the door. White clouds of smoke hung in the rafters. Fan blades whirled above everyone's heads. Layla surveyed the bar and the crowded dance floor. She was glad she'd chosen to wear jeans with a halter top and silk blouse, unbuttoned to expose her chest. The evening gowns in Allie's closet wouldn't have fit in with this crowd.
She found a stool at the bar and slid onto it. She wondered where Jake was.
"What can I get you, little lady?" The bartender smiled and cleaned the area in front of her. Layla hesitated, not sure what she should order. "Is this your first time at the Lazy Saloon?"
She nodded. "It's a bit intimidating."
"There are some wild ones in here tonight, ma'am. If you're alone, I suggest you keep your drink light, if you know what I mean. It's best to keep your wits about you. I'd be happy to get you a glass of wine if you'd like."
This wasn't New York, that's for sure. She smiled at the bartender. "A glass of white zin would be nice."
"White zin, it is."
He hurried to the end of the bar, found a wine glass, and poured the white wine. He brought it back and placed a coaster and wine in front of her. He smiled. "On the house. Just be careful and have fun. I'd stay away from the boys who are cuttin' loose too much. They can be serious trouble, especially if you aren't used to their kind."
"Thank you for the wine. And I'll remember your advice." She took a sip and let her eyes scan the bar. She thought Jake had mentioned something about a guy with a red ball cap, but she wasn't sure. Most of these men wore cowboy hats.
Her eyes continued around the bar until she found another pair staring at her. Her heart skipped a beat. It was Jake, but it didn't look like he was alone. A pretty brunette's fingers were playing with the buttons on his shirt and pressing her breasts into his arm. She forced herself to look away. She hadn't expected it would sting so much.
When she looked again, he was gone, and so was the brunette. Her heart sank. She needed some air.
*****
Outside, it was a typical night. Half-naked women were openly offering a good time for a few dollars. They weren't the stranger's type. He wanted something better. One that smelled good and was easy on the eyes. Something spicy, maybe.
He strolled down the block, stopping near a clump of trees. He lit a cigarette while he watched and waited. As crowded as this place was tonight, he wasn't worried about finding what he wanted. He just wanted to choose the right one.
Layla exited the bar, unsure of what to do next. The girls working the corner didn't hesitate to tell her.
"Honey, this corner is taken. Just keep your little tush moving if you know what's good for you."
"Oh, don't get your panties in a wad, Sable; none of these rough-riding cowboys are going to want her scrawny butt."
"Don't be talking about my panties. Hell, this girl ain't wearing any."
They all laughed, and Layla moved away.
She walked toward the park, her heels tapping in perfect rhythm as she glided along. The fresh air felt good as she cleared her lungs. She saw a man standing in the shadow of the trees, his cigarette dangled from his lips. Chills ran up and down her spine. Could he be the one? He was hanging out, away from the crowd, by himself. Was it easier to pick up a woman that way?
For some crazy reason, he reminded her of an old movie. Maybe this was her chance! She prayed Jake was nearby.
She approached him, smiling. "Gotta light, tough guy?"
She felt foolish when he didn't answer, acting like one of Humphrey Bogart's dames. He probably didn't even know who that was.
"Forget it. Looks like I don't have a cigarette anyway." Irritated with herself and with him, she turned to walk away.
"Wait!" He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Taking one out, he placed it between her lips, leaning closer. Her perfume was intoxicating, and his eyes lingered on her breasts.
Layla felt her nerves kick into high gear. "I'm just looking for a light."
He opened his jacket. His fingers touched the steel blade hidden inside. Retrieving the Zippo, he lit her cigarette. The flickering flame illuminated her face. He licked his lips and brushed his fingertips across her chest.
Instant heat surged up her neck and across her face. Blushing, she stammered, "Sorry, this girl's not free." She stepped back.
A chuckle rattled in the man's throat. "Oh, Darlin, I can pay."
Fear was working its way up from her toes to the top of her head. The cigarette dropped from her mouth. Her eyes were wide and glassy. "I — meant — I'm meeting someone, so I'm not free."
She turned and hastily walked toward the park. Sweat was trickling down her back. She prayed he wasn't following her but was too afraid to look back.
She moaned out loud, "Oh. Jake, where are you? You were right. I can't do this." Then she remembered the brunette and walked faster, clicking her heels against the pavement. "Forget you, Jake."
The man crushed out his cigarette and started to follow her. Checking the area, he slipped into the darkness and stealthily closed the distance between them. His movements were routine and polished. His motive was simple - to remove another slut from the streets. His adrenalin pumped as he moved in for the kill. It was going to be too easy. He could see her walking just ahead. He could feel the lust building between his legs. His mind was exploding with desire. He'd waited, and now she was his.
Approaching footsteps caught him off guard. He hesitated. He could see a man moving toward him. He tried to step aside. Too late!
"What the -"
His eyes registered fear. Pain raged through his body. Lifeless, he crumbled to the ground. Blood gurgled and ran down his chin. The man, towering above him, smiled. "Sorry, pal. This one is mine."
Jake stood in the shadows, holding his breath as he watched it go down. He wasn't sure what had just happened, but his eyes remained on the guy standing—the one closing in on Layla.
A message alert beeped on Jake's team phone. He scowled but couldn't ignore it. It could be important. He glanced down and read it - "LOL I've got the girl." Someone on his team had Alyssa? How?
Jake didn't understand, but he needed to remain focused on Layla right that minute. As he lifted his head to search for her, he heard a "pop" and felt the burning sensation of a bullet through his arm, followed by a second one in his gut. He staggered and then fell to the ground. His blood was spilling everywhere. He struggled to remain conscious, reaching for his radio. His last words were "Man Down" as he pushed the alert button before the blackness enveloped him.
*****
Marco gloated at the accuracy of his shots. He'd just won the bet. The Cutlass was his. Smiling as Jake collapsed, Marco backed into the tall bushes, ditched the cowboy hat and jacket, and headed into the darkness, away from the park. Within seconds, he was far from the crime scene.
Satisfied with his success, he neglected to realize three men were closing in on him.
The butt of a gun knocked him out. Seconds later, he was tossed into the trunk of a sedan and driven away. Marco hadn't won after all.
*****
Tommy spun around from his kill, searching for Layla. He had to reach her. Her death guaranteed his survival and a possible promotion from the boss. No more red light district!
He spotted her near the fountain. His adrenalin pumped as he moved in. It was going to be easy. She didn't know he was coming. He had seen Antonio do it hundreds of times. It would be over in seconds. Victory would be his. Kill her and leave. Fast and easy.
He was three feet away.
He was closing in — two feet away.
He could smell her fear — one foot away.
His hand wrapped around her throat, but she'd heard his footsteps against the pavement. She screamed and spun around, plunging the knife Jake had given her into his gut.
Disbelief rang through his head, followed by fear and the realization she'd beat him at his own game. He stumbled and fell to the ground, bleeding and gasping for air. The red baseball cap slipped from his head.
Terror ripped through Layla as she bent down and lifted his hand. It didn't have the tattoo. The cross and the serpent weren't there. She started screaming hysterically over and over, "I killed the wrong man. I killed the wrong man."
Like a stage production waiting in the wings, the street filled with sirens and flashing lights. Police officers arrived from every direction. EMTs were unloaded from several ambulances. News trucks were parked on the grass.
Within minutes, Chief Richard Harrison arrived on the scene. He walked briskly toward the crime scene, yet he acknowledged the clamoring reporters. Questions flew from every direction and every mouth.
"Were you prepared for this bust?"
"Does any of this have to do with drugs or sex crimes?"
"Do you know who the victims are?"
"Is the suspect a woman? Is she in custody?
Chief Harrison stopped and smiled as the cameras clicked, then answered, "I'll be happy to give you a statement as soon as I oversee the crime scene. Just give me a moment, please."
Richard Harrison stared past his officers at Layla Saladino, the woman who refused his request to return to New York and let him solve the case of her missing sister. She was going to regret it because he was going to see to it.
He joined the officers. Bending, he rolled over the body. Several of the officers gasped. "It's Tommy."
Layla gasped. "You know him? Is he the murderer?"
Chief Harrison could barely contain himself as he looked into Layla's eyes. "Yes, ma'am, we know him. Tommy's one of us. He's a cop."
Layla closed her eyes. A tear trickled down her cheek. She swatted it away. It couldn't be. But it was. She'd stabbed a cop, and he was lying on the pavement in a pool of blood.
The Chief stepped closer to her. "You're going to have to come down to the station and give your statement." He turned to one of his officers. "Langley, will you read Ms. Saladino her rights and take her in? I'll be there after I give the reporters a statement."
"Yes, sir."
A uniformed police officer rushed up to the Chief. "Sir, we have two more victims. One of them is Jake. The other one is unknown."
Layla cried, "No, not Jake. It can't be."
Before leaving the crime scene, Richard whispered into Layla's ear, "You should have listened when I told you to go back to New York." He walked away, smiling, confident everything was going his way.
"Ma'am, you need to come with me." Officer Langley put cuffs on Layla's wrists before reading her Miranda rights. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. If you decide to answer questions now without a lawyer present, you have the right to stop answering at any time."
CHAPTER 14
Layla stepped out of the taxi, handed the cabbie the fare, and moved to the sidewalk. She hadn't expected it to be so crowded, though it was no different from the sidewalks and clubs in New York—a little seedier but certainly not a dive. She told Jake she could do this, but now she needed to prove it.
Before her courage dissipated, she moved toward the bar entrance. She could hear the jukebox even outside. A tall cowboy tipped his hat to her and opened the door. "Welcome to the Lazy Saloon. Y'all have a good evening, miss."
Layla nodded and stepped through the door. White clouds of smoke hung in the rafters. Fan blades whirled above everyone's heads. Layla surveyed the bar and the crowded dance floor. She was glad she'd chosen to wear jeans with a halter top and silk blouse, unbuttoned to expose her chest. The evening gowns in Allie's closet wouldn't have fit in with this crowd.
She found a stool at the bar and slid onto it. She wondered where Jake was.
"What can I get you, little lady?" The bartender smiled and cleaned the area in front of her. Layla hesitated, not sure what she should order. "Is this your first time at the Lazy Saloon?"
She nodded. "It's a bit intimidating."
"There are some wild ones in here tonight, ma'am. If you're alone, I suggest you keep your drink light, if you know what I mean. It's best to keep your wits about you. I'd be happy to get you a glass of wine if you'd like."
This wasn't New York, that's for sure. She smiled at the bartender. "A glass of white zin would be nice."
"White zin, it is."
He hurried to the end of the bar, found a wine glass, and poured the white wine. He brought it back and placed a coaster and wine in front of her. He smiled. "On the house. Just be careful and have fun. I'd stay away from the boys who are cuttin' loose too much. They can be serious trouble, especially if you aren't used to their kind."
"Thank you for the wine. And I'll remember your advice." She took a sip and let her eyes scan the bar. She thought Jake had mentioned something about a guy with a red ball cap, but she wasn't sure. Most of these men wore cowboy hats.
Her eyes continued around the bar until she found another pair staring at her. Her heart skipped a beat. It was Jake, but it didn't look like he was alone. A pretty brunette's fingers were playing with the buttons on his shirt and pressing her breasts into his arm. She forced herself to look away. She hadn't expected it would sting so much.
When she looked again, he was gone, and so was the brunette. Her heart sank. She needed some air.
*****
Outside, it was a typical night. Half-naked women were openly offering a good time for a few dollars. They weren't the stranger's type. He wanted something better. One that smelled good and was easy on the eyes. Something spicy, maybe.
He strolled down the block, stopping near a clump of trees. He lit a cigarette while he watched and waited. As crowded as this place was tonight, he wasn't worried about finding what he wanted. He just wanted to choose the right one.
Layla exited the bar, unsure of what to do next. The girls working the corner didn't hesitate to tell her.
"Honey, this corner is taken. Just keep your little tush moving if you know what's good for you."
"Oh, don't get your panties in a wad, Sable; none of these rough-riding cowboys are going to want her scrawny butt."
"Don't be talking about my panties. Hell, this girl ain't wearing any."
They all laughed, and Layla moved away.
She walked toward the park, her heels tapping in perfect rhythm as she glided along. The fresh air felt good as she cleared her lungs. She saw a man standing in the shadow of the trees, his cigarette dangled from his lips. Chills ran up and down her spine. Could he be the one? He was hanging out, away from the crowd, by himself. Was it easier to pick up a woman that way?
For some crazy reason, he reminded her of an old movie. Maybe this was her chance! She prayed Jake was nearby.
She approached him, smiling. "Gotta light, tough guy?"
She felt foolish when he didn't answer, acting like one of Humphrey Bogart's dames. He probably didn't even know who that was.
"Forget it. Looks like I don't have a cigarette anyway." Irritated with herself and with him, she turned to walk away.
"Wait!" He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Taking one out, he placed it between her lips, leaning closer. Her perfume was intoxicating, and his eyes lingered on her breasts.
Layla felt her nerves kick into high gear. "I'm just looking for a light."
He opened his jacket. His fingers touched the steel blade hidden inside. Retrieving the Zippo, he lit her cigarette. The flickering flame illuminated her face. He licked his lips and brushed his fingertips across her chest.
Instant heat surged up her neck and across her face. Blushing, she stammered, "Sorry, this girl's not free." She stepped back.
A chuckle rattled in the man's throat. "Oh, Darlin, I can pay."
Fear was working its way up from her toes to the top of her head. The cigarette dropped from her mouth. Her eyes were wide and glassy. "I — meant — I'm meeting someone, so I'm not free."
She turned and hastily walked toward the park. Sweat was trickling down her back. She prayed he wasn't following her but was too afraid to look back.
She moaned out loud, "Oh. Jake, where are you? You were right. I can't do this." Then she remembered the brunette and walked faster, clicking her heels against the pavement. "Forget you, Jake."
The man crushed out his cigarette and started to follow her. Checking the area, he slipped into the darkness and stealthily closed the distance between them. His movements were routine and polished. His motive was simple - to remove another slut from the streets. His adrenalin pumped as he moved in for the kill. It was going to be too easy. He could see her walking just ahead. He could feel the lust building between his legs. His mind was exploding with desire. He'd waited, and now she was his.
Approaching footsteps caught him off guard. He hesitated. He could see a man moving toward him. He tried to step aside. Too late!
"What the -"
His eyes registered fear. Pain raged through his body. Lifeless, he crumbled to the ground. Blood gurgled and ran down his chin. The man, towering above him, smiled. "Sorry, pal. This one is mine."
Before her courage dissipated, she moved toward the bar entrance. She could hear the jukebox even outside. A tall cowboy tipped his hat to her and opened the door. "Welcome to the Lazy Saloon. Y'all have a good evening, miss."
Layla nodded and stepped through the door. White clouds of smoke hung in the rafters. Fan blades whirled above everyone's heads. Layla surveyed the bar and the crowded dance floor. She was glad she'd chosen to wear jeans with a halter top and silk blouse, unbuttoned to expose her chest. The evening gowns in Allie's closet wouldn't have fit in with this crowd.
She found a stool at the bar and slid onto it. She wondered where Jake was.
"What can I get you, little lady?" The bartender smiled and cleaned the area in front of her. Layla hesitated, not sure what she should order. "Is this your first time at the Lazy Saloon?"
She nodded. "It's a bit intimidating."
"There are some wild ones in here tonight, ma'am. If you're alone, I suggest you keep your drink light, if you know what I mean. It's best to keep your wits about you. I'd be happy to get you a glass of wine if you'd like."
This wasn't New York, that's for sure. She smiled at the bartender. "A glass of white zin would be nice."
"White zin, it is."
He hurried to the end of the bar, found a wine glass, and poured the white wine. He brought it back and placed a coaster and wine in front of her. He smiled. "On the house. Just be careful and have fun. I'd stay away from the boys who are cuttin' loose too much. They can be serious trouble, especially if you aren't used to their kind."
"Thank you for the wine. And I'll remember your advice." She took a sip and let her eyes scan the bar. She thought Jake had mentioned something about a guy with a red ball cap, but she wasn't sure. Most of these men wore cowboy hats.
Her eyes continued around the bar until she found another pair staring at her. Her heart skipped a beat. It was Jake, but it didn't look like he was alone. A pretty brunette's fingers were playing with the buttons on his shirt and pressing her breasts into his arm. She forced herself to look away. She hadn't expected it would sting so much.
When she looked again, he was gone, and so was the brunette. Her heart sank. She needed some air.
*****
Outside, it was a typical night. Half-naked women were openly offering a good time for a few dollars. They weren't the stranger's type. He wanted something better. One that smelled good and was easy on the eyes. Something spicy, maybe.
He strolled down the block, stopping near a clump of trees. He lit a cigarette while he watched and waited. As crowded as this place was tonight, he wasn't worried about finding what he wanted. He just wanted to choose the right one.
Layla exited the bar, unsure of what to do next. The girls working the corner didn't hesitate to tell her.
"Honey, this corner is taken. Just keep your little tush moving if you know what's good for you."
"Oh, don't get your panties in a wad, Sable; none of these rough-riding cowboys are going to want her scrawny butt."
"Don't be talking about my panties. Hell, this girl ain't wearing any."
They all laughed, and Layla moved away.
She walked toward the park, her heels tapping in perfect rhythm as she glided along. The fresh air felt good as she cleared her lungs. She saw a man standing in the shadow of the trees, his cigarette dangled from his lips. Chills ran up and down her spine. Could he be the one? He was hanging out, away from the crowd, by himself. Was it easier to pick up a woman that way?
For some crazy reason, he reminded her of an old movie. Maybe this was her chance! She prayed Jake was nearby.
She approached him, smiling. "Gotta light, tough guy?"
She felt foolish when he didn't answer, acting like one of Humphrey Bogart's dames. He probably didn't even know who that was.
"Forget it. Looks like I don't have a cigarette anyway." Irritated with herself and with him, she turned to walk away.
"Wait!" He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Taking one out, he placed it between her lips, leaning closer. Her perfume was intoxicating, and his eyes lingered on her breasts.
Layla felt her nerves kick into high gear. "I'm just looking for a light."
He opened his jacket. His fingers touched the steel blade hidden inside. Retrieving the Zippo, he lit her cigarette. The flickering flame illuminated her face. He licked his lips and brushed his fingertips across her chest.
Instant heat surged up her neck and across her face. Blushing, she stammered, "Sorry, this girl's not free." She stepped back.
A chuckle rattled in the man's throat. "Oh, Darlin, I can pay."
Fear was working its way up from her toes to the top of her head. The cigarette dropped from her mouth. Her eyes were wide and glassy. "I — meant — I'm meeting someone, so I'm not free."
She turned and hastily walked toward the park. Sweat was trickling down her back. She prayed he wasn't following her but was too afraid to look back.
She moaned out loud, "Oh. Jake, where are you? You were right. I can't do this." Then she remembered the brunette and walked faster, clicking her heels against the pavement. "Forget you, Jake."
The man crushed out his cigarette and started to follow her. Checking the area, he slipped into the darkness and stealthily closed the distance between them. His movements were routine and polished. His motive was simple - to remove another slut from the streets. His adrenalin pumped as he moved in for the kill. It was going to be too easy. He could see her walking just ahead. He could feel the lust building between his legs. His mind was exploding with desire. He'd waited, and now she was his.
Approaching footsteps caught him off guard. He hesitated. He could see a man moving toward him. He tried to step aside. Too late!
"What the -"
His eyes registered fear. Pain raged through his body. Lifeless, he crumbled to the ground. Blood gurgled and ran down his chin. The man, towering above him, smiled. "Sorry, pal. This one is mine."
Jake stood in the shadows, holding his breath as he watched it go down. He wasn't sure what had just happened, but his eyes remained on the guy standing—the one closing in on Layla.
A message alert beeped on Jake's team phone. He scowled but couldn't ignore it. It could be important. He glanced down and read it - "LOL I've got the girl." Someone on his team had Alyssa? How?
Jake didn't understand, but he needed to remain focused on Layla right that minute. As he lifted his head to search for her, he heard a "pop" and felt the burning sensation of a bullet through his arm, followed by a second one in his gut. He staggered and then fell to the ground. His blood was spilling everywhere. He struggled to remain conscious, reaching for his radio. His last words were "Man Down" as he pushed the alert button before the blackness enveloped him.
*****
Marco gloated at the accuracy of his shots. He'd just won the bet. The Cutlass was his. Smiling as Jake collapsed, Marco backed into the tall bushes, ditched the cowboy hat and jacket, and headed into the darkness, away from the park. Within seconds, he was far from the crime scene.
Satisfied with his success, he neglected to realize three men were closing in on him.
The butt of a gun knocked him out. Seconds later, he was tossed into the trunk of a sedan and driven away. Marco hadn't won after all.
*****
Tommy spun around from his kill, searching for Layla. He had to reach her. Her death guaranteed his survival and a possible promotion from the boss. No more red light district!
He spotted her near the fountain. His adrenalin pumped as he moved in. It was going to be easy. She didn't know he was coming. He had seen Antonio do it hundreds of times. It would be over in seconds. Victory would be his. Kill her and leave. Fast and easy.
He was three feet away.
He was closing in — two feet away.
He could smell her fear — one foot away.
His hand wrapped around her throat, but she'd heard his footsteps against the pavement. She screamed and spun around, plunging the knife Jake had given her into his gut.
Disbelief rang through his head, followed by fear and the realization she'd beat him at his own game. He stumbled and fell to the ground, bleeding and gasping for air. The red baseball cap slipped from his head.
Terror ripped through Layla as she bent down and lifted his hand. It didn't have the tattoo. The cross and the serpent weren't there. She started screaming hysterically over and over, "I killed the wrong man. I killed the wrong man."
Like a stage production waiting in the wings, the street filled with sirens and flashing lights. Police officers arrived from every direction. EMTs were unloaded from several ambulances. News trucks were parked on the grass.
Within minutes, Chief Richard Harrison arrived on the scene. He walked briskly toward the crime scene, yet he acknowledged the clamoring reporters. Questions flew from every direction and every mouth.
"Were you prepared for this bust?"
"Does any of this have to do with drugs or sex crimes?"
"Do you know who the victims are?"
"Is the suspect a woman? Is she in custody?
Chief Harrison stopped and smiled as the cameras clicked, then answered, "I'll be happy to give you a statement as soon as I oversee the crime scene. Just give me a moment, please."
Richard Harrison stared past his officers at Layla Saladino, the woman who refused his request to return to New York and let him solve the case of her missing sister. She was going to regret it because he was going to see to it.
He joined the officers. Bending, he rolled over the body. Several of the officers gasped. "It's Tommy."
Layla gasped. "You know him? Is he the murderer?"
Chief Harrison could barely contain himself as he looked into Layla's eyes. "Yes, ma'am, we know him. Tommy's one of us. He's a cop."
Layla closed her eyes. A tear trickled down her cheek. She swatted it away. It couldn't be. But it was. She'd stabbed a cop, and he was lying on the pavement in a pool of blood.
The Chief stepped closer to her. "You're going to have to come down to the station and give your statement." He turned to one of his officers. "Langley, will you read Ms. Saladino her rights and take her in? I'll be there after I give the reporters a statement."
A message alert beeped on Jake's team phone. He scowled but couldn't ignore it. It could be important. He glanced down and read it - "LOL I've got the girl." Someone on his team had Alyssa? How?
Jake didn't understand, but he needed to remain focused on Layla right that minute. As he lifted his head to search for her, he heard a "pop" and felt the burning sensation of a bullet through his arm, followed by a second one in his gut. He staggered and then fell to the ground. His blood was spilling everywhere. He struggled to remain conscious, reaching for his radio. His last words were "Man Down" as he pushed the alert button before the blackness enveloped him.
*****
Marco gloated at the accuracy of his shots. He'd just won the bet. The Cutlass was his. Smiling as Jake collapsed, Marco backed into the tall bushes, ditched the cowboy hat and jacket, and headed into the darkness, away from the park. Within seconds, he was far from the crime scene.
Satisfied with his success, he neglected to realize three men were closing in on him.
The butt of a gun knocked him out. Seconds later, he was tossed into the trunk of a sedan and driven away. Marco hadn't won after all.
*****
Tommy spun around from his kill, searching for Layla. He had to reach her. Her death guaranteed his survival and a possible promotion from the boss. No more red light district!
He spotted her near the fountain. His adrenalin pumped as he moved in. It was going to be easy. She didn't know he was coming. He had seen Antonio do it hundreds of times. It would be over in seconds. Victory would be his. Kill her and leave. Fast and easy.
He was three feet away.
He was closing in — two feet away.
He could smell her fear — one foot away.
His hand wrapped around her throat, but she'd heard his footsteps against the pavement. She screamed and spun around, plunging the knife Jake had given her into his gut.
Disbelief rang through his head, followed by fear and the realization she'd beat him at his own game. He stumbled and fell to the ground, bleeding and gasping for air. The red baseball cap slipped from his head.
Terror ripped through Layla as she bent down and lifted his hand. It didn't have the tattoo. The cross and the serpent weren't there. She started screaming hysterically over and over, "I killed the wrong man. I killed the wrong man."
Like a stage production waiting in the wings, the street filled with sirens and flashing lights. Police officers arrived from every direction. EMTs were unloaded from several ambulances. News trucks were parked on the grass.
Within minutes, Chief Richard Harrison arrived on the scene. He walked briskly toward the crime scene, yet he acknowledged the clamoring reporters. Questions flew from every direction and every mouth.
"Were you prepared for this bust?"
"Does any of this have to do with drugs or sex crimes?"
"Do you know who the victims are?"
"Is the suspect a woman? Is she in custody?
Chief Harrison stopped and smiled as the cameras clicked, then answered, "I'll be happy to give you a statement as soon as I oversee the crime scene. Just give me a moment, please."
Richard Harrison stared past his officers at Layla Saladino, the woman who refused his request to return to New York and let him solve the case of her missing sister. She was going to regret it because he was going to see to it.
He joined the officers. Bending, he rolled over the body. Several of the officers gasped. "It's Tommy."
Layla gasped. "You know him? Is he the murderer?"
Chief Harrison could barely contain himself as he looked into Layla's eyes. "Yes, ma'am, we know him. Tommy's one of us. He's a cop."
Layla closed her eyes. A tear trickled down her cheek. She swatted it away. It couldn't be. But it was. She'd stabbed a cop, and he was lying on the pavement in a pool of blood.
The Chief stepped closer to her. "You're going to have to come down to the station and give your statement." He turned to one of his officers. "Langley, will you read Ms. Saladino her rights and take her in? I'll be there after I give the reporters a statement."
"Yes, sir."
A uniformed police officer rushed up to the Chief. "Sir, we have two more victims. One of them is Jake. The other one is unknown."
Layla cried, "No, not Jake. It can't be."
Before leaving the crime scene, Richard whispered into Layla's ear, "You should have listened when I told you to go back to New York." He walked away, smiling, confident everything was going his way.
"Ma'am, you need to come with me." Officer Langley put cuffs on Layla's wrists before reading her Miranda rights. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. If you decide to answer questions now without a lawyer present, you have the right to stop answering at any time."
A uniformed police officer rushed up to the Chief. "Sir, we have two more victims. One of them is Jake. The other one is unknown."
Layla cried, "No, not Jake. It can't be."
Before leaving the crime scene, Richard whispered into Layla's ear, "You should have listened when I told you to go back to New York." He walked away, smiling, confident everything was going his way.
"Ma'am, you need to come with me." Officer Langley put cuffs on Layla's wrists before reading her Miranda rights. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. If you decide to answer questions now without a lawyer present, you have the right to stop answering at any time."
 Recognized |
Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Tommy - Sandra's ex-partner and Alyssa's current one (a dirty cop)
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake - a friend of Troy and an undercover FBI Agent
Tyler Chadwick - NYC Detective
Antonio - a childhood friend - a hood
Layla Saladino - Alyssa's sister and fashion designer
Father Terry Williams - Priest and childhood friend
Marcos - a criminals' henchman
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Tommy - Sandra's ex-partner and Alyssa's current one (a dirty cop)
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake - a friend of Troy and an undercover FBI Agent
Tyler Chadwick - NYC Detective
Antonio - a childhood friend - a hood
Layla Saladino - Alyssa's sister and fashion designer
Father Terry Williams - Priest and childhood friend
Marcos - a criminals' henchman
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