Текст книги "Unlawful Justice"
Автор книги: K. Langston
Соавторы: K. C. Lynn
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 19 страниц)
CHAPTER 11
Grayson
I stop at Pillar’s for a cup of coffee most mornings and usually see the same faces every day. Miss. Betty who works down at the DMV always comes in around this time as well as Mr. Myers who runs the local hardware store. He always buys donuts for his staff. But this morning I notice a woman and her son walk in who I’ve never seen before. She looks in a hurry, pulling the boy by his hand.
“Uh oh. Wook, Mama, powiceman,” the kid says while pointing at me, looking nervous.
“I see him.” She eyes me suspiciously. “Just ignore him.”
As they walk down the aisle to the coolers in the back I return my attention to the cashier. After paying for my coffee, I stuff my wallet back in my pocket and pick up my cup, but I don’t make it out the door before I feel someone jerk on the bottom of my pants. I look down to see that same little boy, his eyes wide and a little hesitant.
“Hey, little man,” I greet him, crouching down slowly to get on his level. He backs up a couple steps. “What can I do for you?”
He wears a T-shirt with a cartoon character on it and looks to be about five or six.
“Do you shoot people?” he asks, pointing to the gun on my hip.
I hate the fear I see in his big brown eyes. “Not if I don’t have to—no.” That doesn’t seem to make him feel any better.
Fuck, how do I explain this to him?
“Listen, kid. You never have to be afraid of me, or any of the police for that matter. We’re here to help you not hurt you. Our job is to catch the bad guys and keep everyone safe. That’s why we need to carry guns—for protection not to hurt anyone.”
His young, intelligent eyes assess me, wondering if he can trust me. It fucking sucks, and I start to feel like nothing I say will reassure him because it’s obvious he’s been taught differently.
“So you don’t wanna hurt no one?”
I shake my head. “Never. We only want to help. So if you ever need anything you can always call us and we’ll be there. I’ll even drive extra fast for you and turn my sirens on really loud so everyone knows they just messed with the wrong kid.”
He giggles like I hoped he would. “Awight, cool.”
“Cool.” I raise my fist for him and he gives me a knuckle bump.
My eyes lift to his mother who is stomping furiously our way. “Boy, I told you not to wander off,” she snaps, pulling him away from me.
“It’s no trouble. We’re just having a talk,” I say, standing to my full height.
She glares up at me, contempt prominent in her eyes. Whether it’s because of my uniform or the color of my skin I have no idea.
Both thoughts are unsettling.
“Yeah, Mama. We’re just tawkin’. I wanna be a powiceman when I grow up,” he tells her.
“No, you don’t, boy, now shush it.” Scooping her son into her arms, she walks away. “You need to be careful around the police. I told you that. It’s not safe.”
Her words spark a rage inside of me, and before I say anything I might regret I walk out and get into my patrol truck, remembering something my father said once.
Hate isn’t something you’re born with, it’s taught.
I turn those words over in my mind as I maneuver onto I-9, heading out of town to Eddie Willard’s house.
What Liv overheard between Lane, Eddie and Walt yesterday has my stomach in knots. When I brought it up to Dixon last night he didn’t seem too concerned. He reminded me that Eddie and Lane are just harmless rednecks with a whole lot of mouth and not enough ass to back it up. Usually, I would agree, and I’m hoping that’s all it is, but I’m not taking any chances. I’m going to get to the bottom of it and warn him to stay away from Liv. She doesn’t need to hear whatever hate he and Lane are spewing and neither does Walt. That man is furious enough; he doesn’t need anyone adding to it.
I’m just as mad as everyone else about what happened to Liv, even more so. But the difference is my anger is toward the assholes who did it, not anyone else. When I think about how Fletch was treated yesterday, lumped into the same category as the criminals who committed the crime, it infuriates me. And it’s not just one-sided, this race shit is being played from all sides, and I’m goddamn sick of it. So many people are losing their heads over this and it’s only making everything worse.
Then there’s Liv.
After everything that’s happened to her, she remains strong. She doesn’t show an ounce of bitterness when she has every right to feel that way. She’s stronger than I gave her credit for, but I should have known better than to doubt her. The way she shoved aside her fear and went out to the diner with me, then stood up for Fletch in front of everyone… I shake my head.
Pulling into Eddie’s driveway, I see his old pickup parked around the side of the house, a Confederate flag license plate mounted proudly on the front bumper. It’s something I wouldn’t have thought twice about before, but now I have to wonder—does he display it as a symbol of his heritage or hate? I know the history behind it, most educated people do, but all too often it’s been used for far more than a representation of southern pride. After what Liv heard him say yesterday, I’m assuming it’s the latter.
As I get out of the truck Eddie walks out onto his front porch with a beer in hand, dressed in dirty jeans and a wifebeater. His fourteen-year-old son, Brian, steps out behind him and watches me wearily, probably wondering if I’m here for him. The kid has a serious attitude problem and a short temper. He’s been brought in a few times for fighting at school.
“Deputy Taylor, what brings you all this way?” Eddie asks, before taking a swig of his beer and propping his forearm on the post next to him.
“I need to speak with you alone, Eddie,” I say, lifting my chin toward Brian.
Eddie twists his head and gives his son a dismissive nod. Brian hovers for only a second before shutting the large wooden door.
“What can I do for ya, Grayson?”
I decide to forgo any bullshit and cut right to the chase. “What was the purpose of your visit with Walter Bradshaw yesterday?”
He shrugs. “Just wanted to check on Olivia is all.”
“You sure that’s the only reason?”
His eyes narrow suspiciously. “Yeah, I’m sure. Why?”
I shrug. “Things seemed tense when I showed up.”
“Of course they were. We were checkin’ up on Walt’s granddaughter, who was raped and beaten. Shit ain’t gonna be pleasant. Especially when those bastards are still out there somewhere, just waitin’ to strike again.”
“The police are on this and we’re doing everything we can. Trust me, I won’t stop until they’re found.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not enough. It’s going on weeks now since the attack on her. The respectable people of this town are concerned for their safety and can ya blame ’em when this town is filled with their kind?”
Anger coils low in my gut, but I keep my cool because this is exactly what I want. I want him to crack. I want to hear him say it with my own ears. “Tell me, Eddie, what kind are you talking about?”
“You know exactly who I’m talkin’ ’bout,” he grinds out, jaw clenched.
“Actually, I don’t.”
“The hell you don’t,” he snaps, his eyes flashing with indescribable hate. “Don’t play that shit with me, Taylor. This town is fallin’ apart and it’s been a long time comin’. Ever since that coon, Clarence Rodgers, got elected mayor, Harmony Falls is overrun with them motherfuckers and they brought their fucking drugs and crime with ’em. We ain’t standin’ for it no more and we’re gonna do somethin’ about it.”
To hear him spout that about Clarence makes me wonder if it was him who burned the cross on his lawn. I take a step toward him, rage pumping viciously through my veins. “This isn’t about race goddammit, this is about some asshole thinking he had the right to break the law and seek vengeance for a crime that Liv nor Walter committed. The exact same thing you and Lane are trying to do. This shit stops now.” The curtains shift behind the window, which I assume is Brian. I gather my control and lower my voice but move in closer, only inches from his face. “Listen to me carefully, Eddie. If I find out either of you are interfering with this case, I will haul your asses in without question. Do you understand?”
Defiance rages in his eyes, a hatred so powerful it electrocutes the air between us. “Whatever you say, Deputy Taylor.” My name falls from his mouth with disgust before he takes another pull of his beer.
I don’t believe him, not with what I see staring back at me. “For your sake I hope you mean that. Don’t go out to Liv’s again. There’s no need for you to be there.”
He tenses. “You can’t tell me I can’t go out to Walt’s.”
“Actually, I can. Walter and Liv don’t need you out there stirring up shit. Leave them the hell alone and let them deal with this in peace.”
A smug look transforms his face as realization hits. “So that’s what this is about. You got a hard-on for Olivia, is that it? Like preying on the victims, Taylor?”
My composure snaps. I knock the beer out of his hand and grab him by the front of his grungy shirt. “Watch your fucking mouth, Willard.” I grit. “If you’re smart you’ll fucking listen, because you won’t like the consequences if you don’t, trust me. So stay the fuck away from her and Walter, and stay the hell out of my case.”
“Eddie?” The screen door squeaks open and his wife, Janet, steps out with a cigarette dangling from her mouth, looking her usual haggard self. “Everythin’ all right?”
I release Eddie’s shirt and back out of his personal space as she comes to stand beside him. “Yeah, s’all good, darlin’. He assures her by wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in close.
For the sake of pleasantries, I acknowledge her with a nod. “Janet.”
“Grayson,” she greets back, her glassy eyes roaming down my body with appreciation, something I’m used to from her. I can’t count how many times she’s come on to me at Tucker’s, the local watering hole, when I’ve gone in for a drink while she’s waitressing. It got so annoying that I don’t even bother going if she’s working.
I shift my attention back to Eddie. “Make sure you give Lane my message.” As I start back down the stairs he calls out to me. I turn back around to face him.
“If you care so much about Olivia then what do you give a shit about them niggers for anyway?”
My jaw locks down tight, as I try to restrain myself from going back up there and laying him out. “How do you even know they’re black, Eddie?”
His back straightens. “What?”
“How do you know if the people who hurt her are black? Maybe they’re white or Hispanic.”
It’s Janet who scoffs. “Please. Everyone knows they’re black, it’s all because of that kid Walter shot. It was in retaliation and—”
“Exactly,” I snap, cutting her off. “This is about vengeance, not color.”
“Fuck that!” Eddie barks. “It is about color. They’re goddamn animals, every last one of ’em, and it’s time they took up somewhere else.”
“Damn right!” Janet agrees, taking another pull of her cigarette.
As I stare back at them, seeing their hatred fueling one another, I finally realize what the hell is wrong with Brian and where all his anger comes from.
It has me remembering what just went down at the store with that kid. There’s no point in trying to reason with this level of ignorance. Instead, I point my finger at him in warning. “I’ve got my eye on you. Remember what I said, back the fuck off, and stay away from Liv and this case.”
I head back to my patrol truck, fury branding the blood beneath my skin. The entire drive back to the station I wonder what the hell I’m going to do. I don’t care what the sheriff said, what I just heard Eddie spew is far from being some harmless redneck. Dixon needs to lock this shit down and fast.
By the time I pull up to the station my rage has been reduced to a simmer, but I can’t stop thinking about what went down with Eddie. I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I don’t hear Terrell enter my office until he takes the seat across from me, his gaze sharp and assessing. “You okay, man?”
“Yeah.” I lie. “Why?”
“Because you look like you’re ready to kill someone.” He leans forward. “What’s up, Taylor? Talk.”
I pull a hand down my face, trying to clear my head. “I’m fine, just pissed off. I paid Eddie Willard a visit and it went worse than I expected.”
“Why? What’d you go see him about?”
“Him and Lane went out to Walt’s yesterday and Liv overheard him say some things that made her uncomfortable.”
“Like what?”
“Racist shit,” I reply vaguely, not wanting to offend him.
He grunts. “And you’re surprised by that?”
“A little, yeah, and to be honest I’m sick of the bullshit. I’m tired of everyone making this about race.” I tell him what happened at Pillar’s, then the diner yesterday with Liv and how they sent Fletch away.
He shakes his head, his anger mirroring mine. “Yeah, well, what else is new?”
I tense. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Wake the fuck up, Taylor. It’s always been this way for as long as I’ve lived here.”
“The fuck it has,” I fire back, my blood igniting. “No one has ever been kicked out of a place of business for the color of their skin until this shit with Jamal Jenkins went down.”
He shrugs. “Maybe not, but racism has always been strong around here.” I shake my head but he doesn’t let me speak. “Really? We played football together for four years. Four fucking years and not once did we hang out. Why do you think that is?”
I rear back, floored by his insinuation. “Well it sure the fuck wasn’t because you’re black. I’ve never treated you differently than anyone else, Johnson, and you damn well know it. We may have run in different crowds, but out on that field we were a team. I treated you the same way I did everyone else.”
He grunts. “Yeah, well you were the only one. Don’t you remember when I got rocked on the field by Banks, and I was out for two weeks because of it?”
I throw my hands up. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
“Because Phelps purposely didn’t fucking block me,” he bellows.
“The hell you say! Phelps was one of my good friends, he would have never done something like that.”
“You’re fucking blind.”
“I’m not fucking blind, you’re fucking crazy.”
“Oh yeah?” He stands, resting his hands on the edge of my desk.
“Yeah! And if you wanna play the fucking race card then let’s turn this the other way and look at what happened to Liv.” I stand, matching him stance for stance. “Those bastards hurt her because they think Walt shot Jamal because he was black, but he didn’t.”
“I fucking know he didn’t! I’ve known that old stubborn bastard for years. He would never do something like that.”
Our voices continue to rise, both of us consumed by anger and irritation.
“Exactly! So it’s not just one-sided.”
“I never said it was!”
“Then why the fuck are we fighting about this?”
“I don’t fucking know!”
We glare at one another, our chests rising and falling with frustration.
The sound of snapping gum knocks us from our stare down. We turn to see Lucy watching us from the doorway. “I don’t know why you two idiots are fightin’ either but it’s highly entertaining,” she remarks with a smile before blowing another bubble and walking away.
With a chuckle, I turn my attention back to Terrell and find him watching me with amusement. “You know I got your back, right? That I would never judge you or anyone else because of the color of their skin?”
“Yeah, Taylor, I know that. I’ve always known that. Sorry I got so worked up, but the thing is, not everyone here is like you. I understand you might not see it because you haven’t been subjected to it, but it does happen, a lot more than you think. My father once said something to me when I was just a kid, and it’s something I always try to remember but sometimes it’s really fucking hard to do.”
“What’s that?” I ask quietly.
A beat of silence passes.
“When the eyes of hate are upon you, look away.”
I stare at him, unsure of what to say. To think his father needed to say something like that to him as a kid makes me wonder if I really have been blind.
“You’re right though,” he continues. “It has been happening on both sides, especially lately. Look what just happened with you at Pillar’s this morning. But honestly…can you blame the kids being fearful these days?”
“What do you mean?”
Looking over his shoulder, he ensures we’re alone before leaning in closer and lowering his voice. “Look at what went on with Daryl Baker.”
I grimace. “What about it? Prichard was cleared of the allegation.”
“He may have been cleared but are you so sure he didn’t do it?”
Before I can ask what the hell he’s talking about, Dixon comes stalking in with a set of papers clutched firmly in his hand. “We finally got the results back from the lab, and we have a match.”
Our conversation forgotten, we both give him our full attention. “Who is it?” I ask, adrenaline sparking in my veins.
“Reggie West.”
That motherfucker!
“Shit!” Terrell curses. “That son of a bitch’s alibi was locked up tight. His employer confirmed it.”
“Well, he lied, and this confirms it,” Dixon says, holding up the incriminating proof. He pauses and brings his sole focus to me, his eyes boring into mine. “Traces of Olivia’s blood were found on his necklace. There’s no doubt this is our guy.”
That’s all I needed to hear. “Address.” I demand.
Dixon rattles off the address, located in a shitty part of town. “Go with him, Johnson. I’m also sending Prichard and Wilkinson for backup,” he says, referring to the rookie.
I don’t give a fuck who he sends. West’s ass is mine.
Terrell hesitates. “Do you think we should be the ones to go? This case is personal for the both of us.”
My gaze snaps to his. “What the fuck are you saying? Of course we’re going. This is for Liv and it’s my goddamn case. I’m going to be the one to take him down. Now are you coming or not?”
He exhales a heavy breath. “Yeah, man, of course I’m comin’.”
Dixon hands over the warrant before Terrell and I head out to my patrol truck. Prichard and Wilkinson hop in the one beside us and wait for us to take the lead out.
We forgo the sirens, not wanting to alert or draw attention. “How much do you know about him?” I ask.
“Not much more than you. Moved here a few years back from California after a two-year stint in LA lockup for drug trafficking, as you know. Lived with his aunt for a while, Jamal’s mother. He works construction for Security Builders over in Springfield.” He shakes his head. “I still can’t believe his foreman, Fernando Cortez, gave a sworn statement that he was working when the rape took place. Once we have him in custody we need to pay Mr. Cortez another visit.”
“Agreed.”
“That’s pretty much all I know about West, but Darius says he doesn’t fuck around.”
“Do you think Darius or Kenton were a part of this, too?”
He immediately rejects the idea. “No, no way. I’ll admit they were crushed about what happened to Jamal, but there’s no way in hell they’d hurt Liv. They know she’s not to blame, and Darius can’t fucking stand Reggie. Trust me, they had no part in this. I would know.”
I want to believe it, and I hope that’s the truth, but who the fuck knows? I feel like I don’t know anything anymore.
My hand flexes around the steering wheel, my control slipping the closer we get.
“You sure you can handle this, Taylor?” he asks cautiously.
“Yeah, I got this.”
I hope.
The thought of coming face-to-face with the man who hurt Liv, who put his fucking hands on her and brutalized her in the worst way imaginable is what I’m struggling with. The anger I feel toward him has built a fire of hate in my soul, and I’m doing my best to stomp it out and do my job without thoughts of killing the motherfucker. I need to keep my head.
I have to.
We arrive a few minutes later. I park down the street from the house, not wanting to alert them of our presence and Prichard pulls in behind us. “I still can’t fucking believe Dixon sent not only Prichard but also a fucking rookie,” Terrell mumbles, shaking his head.
His earlier words come back to me, but I shove them aside for a later time. All I care about is taking this motherfucker down. “We need backup right now. Who knows what we’re walking into. All that matters is bringing this fucker in.”
He gives me a stern nod, agreeing with me even if he doesn’t like it.
We hop down from the truck, quickly retrieving our vests from the backseat before meeting up with Wilkinson and Prichard, who are both suited up and ready to go. “Seems like we might have a full house,” Wilkinson remarks, gesturing to the few cars parked out front. I also take note of the music beating loudly from inside the house.
“All right, here’s how we’re going to work it.” I begin. “Wilkinson, you cover the back and Prichard you come in with Johnson and me. The three of us should be able to contain whoever is in there and get to West. We give no warning; let’s get in and get him out. Got it?”
Prichard responds with a lift of his chin and Terrell cocks his gun.
I look to Wilkinson. “You got this?”
“Yes. No problem.” The confidence in his voice is exactly what I want to hear.
“All right, let’s do this.”
Weapons in hand, we point them to the ground, then with stealth movement we make our way to the house, surveying the neighborhood. Most of the dwellings are rundown, some even falling apart, a clear sign of poverty and neglect. There’s about a dozen teenagers playing basketball across the street while an older woman sits in a rocker next door. A little girl squeals, peddling her bike down a nearby driveway as fast as she can, a toddler wearing nothing but a diaper following her.
The man bent beneath the hood of a Cadillac shouts for them to come back home as he spots us.
As Wilkinson heads toward the back, the rest of us step onto the porch, the wooden floorboards vibrating under our feet from the music. We get into position, Prichard and me on either side of the door and Terrell in front. I hold up my fingers, giving him the countdown. On three his police-issued boot meets the door. The sound of wood splintering and the boom of music are all that can be heard. We rush in, guns trained. I’m hit with a thick cloud of smoke, the smell of cheap beer and marijuana hang thickly in the air around us.
“Freeze! Everybody, get down on the ground, now!”
“Da fuck?” Three guys sitting on the couch with a bong placed in front of them jump up like their asses are on fire but none of them follow the order.
“He said down on the ground, now!” Terrell yells, grabbing one of the guys and forcing him to the ground.
The other two quickly comply while Prichard kills the music. “Da fuck you think you’re doin’, asshole? You can’t just come in here without a warrant.”
I drop the white piece of paper down next to him. “We’re here for Reginald West. Where is he?”
“He ain’t here, man.”
Knowing Johnson and Prichard have it under control I move through the house, maneuvering from room to room. I kick down every closed door and don’t find him anywhere.
Fuck!
I start thinking the bastard is telling the truth until Wilkinson’s voice comes over the radio. “Suspect is crawling out the window. He’s comin’ out the back!”
I leap into motion, heading toward the kitchen.
“Freeze, don’t…oomph.”
“Wilkinson?” I yell at the sound of his order being cut off. I jump over the kitchen table to get to the back door and barrel through it. I find the rookie on the ground, curled in a ball, holding his nose. “Fuck! What happened?” I ask, dropping down beside him.
“He got me in the fucking face with a bat.” He points to the left, and I catch sight of Reggie scaling the fence behind the shed.
“Freeze!” I roar, taking aim.
His dark eyes meet mine for a split second, silently taunting me to pull the trigger before he drops to the other side.
I follow in pursuit, pushing myself harder and faster than I ever have in my life.
The image of Liv’s broken, violated body has a terrifying rage burning through me, matching the same intensity as my pounding feet.
I cover the same ground as him in only half the time and find myself in a shadowed alleyway, right on his heels. He slips on a small patch of gravel between the busted-up concrete. I reach for the collar of his shirt, and with a sharp yank I take him down. He manages to twist on his side before I can pin him with my weight, and swings the bat that’s gripped in his right hand toward my head.
I duck, barely missing it, and hear the swift steel whiz past my ear. Grabbing his wrist, I smash his hand to the ground. “Drop it, asshole!” He doesn’t follow the order, only resists more. I jam my thumb in a pressure point and he howls in pain. It does the trick and he releases the weapon. Leaning forward, I shove it out of reach.
His strong body thrashes beneath me. “Get the fuck off me, pig,” he grits out.
Ignoring the insult, I reach for my handcuffs. “Reginald West, you’re under arrest for—”
“For what? I didn’t do shit!”
“No? Then why the fuck are you running?” I clasp one cuff tightly across his right wrist but when I reach for the other he jerks it back, connecting with the side of my chin. I shove his face into the ground and bury my knee into his back. He cries out in agony at the pressure. “Give me your other fucking hand. This is your last warning.”
“Tell me what the hell I’m bein’ arrested for?” I don’t answer until I have the other cuff securely on, then I flip him over, wanting to see his face.
“You’re under arrest for the rape and attempted murder of Olivia Bradshaw.” The words taste like venom oozing from my mouth.
Dark, hollow eyes stare back at me, a malicious smirk tilting his lips. “I’ve never had a bitch scream for me the way she did. She was so fucking tight; I can still feel her.”
My composure shatters as my fists rain down on his face in a succession of blows, each one exposing a darker part of my soul. A part I never knew existed. After only a few solid punches, hands grapple my shoulders and pull me back across the line I just crossed.
“That’s enough, Taylor,” Terrell warns, holding me back as I continue to fight against him. He gets in my face, his hands holding my shoulders in a firm grip. “Find your control, brother. He isn’t worth it.”
“Did you hear what he just said? He fucking admitted it.”
“No, but it doesn’t matter. We got him; he isn’t going anywhere. Let’s take him in.”
His words finally register through my red haze. I nod, struggling to breathe.
We both look back to see Reggie trying to get up, but with his hands cuffed and the few blows I delivered, he struggles. Terrell walks over and yanks him to his feet. He spits a mouthful of blood onto the asphalt before smiling up at me. “You’ll pay for that, asshole.”
“The only one who will be paying, West, is you, so keep your mouth shut and move.” Terrell grinds out before dragging him away, leaving me to stand in numb silence.
I’ve never had a bitch scream for me the way she did. She was so fucking tight; I can still feel her.
I stare down at the pool of blood on the ground and search for remorse, but feel none. Only a deep satisfaction knowing the asshole who hurt Liv has finally been caught and we can deliver justice.
Just like I promised her.
