Read The Mystery of Jessica Benson Online
Authors: C.K. Laurence
K
yle was in his room on the computer catching up on emails.
His inbox was filled with notes from fans all over the country
expressing support, as well as a smattering of cranks telling him
to ‘confess,’ ‘surrender,’ and at least one calling him a fornicator
and damning him to hell. The phone rang, interrupting the quiet.
Kyle picked it up, still staring at his computer.
“Kyle? It’s me. Karen.”
“Hey you. I tried to call you earlier, but no answer.”
“Out chasing bad guys, and now I want to be with you.
Are you alone?”
“Yeah. The other girls already left.”
Karen giggled. “You didn’t look much like you were in
condition for anything but sleep when I last saw you.”
“Not my finest moment, huh?”
“Looked pretty fine to me. Really though, is it okay to
come by?”
“Stop asking goofy questions and get over here. I’ll call
the front desk and let them know to send you right up.”
“I’m on my way.”
Karen arrived at the Blue Diamond fifteen minutes after
they hung up. She started to go inside when a crowd over
by what appeared to be a tennis demonstration toward the beach
caught her eye. She was taken by the grace and ease of the tennis
pro as he moved with a sixtyish woman, actually making her
look much younger by his instruction. Karen asked the parking
attendant what was going on and he explained that was
the Diamonds' new resident pro. He had just moved down from
Atlanta and they had been lucky to get him. Kyle Sands knew
him and had been able to convince him to join the staff, along
with a top salary. Kevin Zimmaro, handsome and well cut, was
on a temporary court that had been set up in clear view of both
Diamonds, and the beach as a promotion to introduce him. The
woman he was working with just happened to be his mom,
Vicki, who, in the attendant’s words, “Don’t look to be old
enough to be no grown man’s mama.” He went on to say that it
was working out well for the Diamonds because the media was
hanging out day and night trying to catch Kyle Sands coming in
or going out. Although they hadn’t been able to find him yet,
Zimmaro was getting the best coverage a new tennis pro could
ever hope for. Karen laughed, told him she’d be staying awhile,
would he please park her car below, then headed inside. The
concierge waved to her and said, “He’s waiting.” The penthouse
elevator glided up in seconds and when the door whooshed open,
Kyle was standing there.
He smiled his sweet half smile and she melted into his
arms. After the door closed the two were quiet for a moment,
content to savor one another’s warmth. Suddenly he tightened
his grasp on her, pulling her so close they were nearly one and
kissed her with a deep, searing hunger.
He answered by kissing her more deeply. When the kiss
finally ended, he looked down at her flushed face and said, “I’ve
been thinking about this since I saw you this afternoon. I’m not
sure I can make it to the bedroom. Sofa’s closer.”
They made love in the living room, the shower, and even
messed around a little on the kitchen table after a couple of
bologna sandwiches. Now they cuddled, exhausted in his bed.
“I’m an old man, Karen. I hope you’re not expecting that
kind of cosmic energy out of me all the time.” She laughed and
told him she would, adding that she hoped he would always love
her this thoroughly, as she would him.
He hugged her to him, not wanting the moment to end.
But he knew they had to get back to earth and into the dirt, so he
finally brought himself to ask, “How was your visit with Luke?
Did he confirm what I told you?”
“I know what you mean. It’s almost as though he gets
off talking about it. Keeps claiming it embarrasses him, but you
can’t shut him up.”
Jessica and Gloria.”
“A third person? No, he would have told me if there
were three of them. I’m sure of that.”
“Uh, uh, it was just the two of them that time, although
Arnold does seem to be peeping out of windows and through
doorways more than most. He is so weird, Kyle. He gives me the
creeps. Watching people and filing the information away for
whatever gets his nut. Anyway, it seems he also saw Utley with
Jessica on more than one occasion.”
“Utley? Son of a bitch! Luke caught
him
screwing her,
too?”
“Not screwing, just ‘making out.’ He saw her drop Utley
off at the complex early one morning as though they’d spent the
night together, and I gather he witnessed other intimate
rendezvous between the two. Naturally, he never said anything
to either of them about it.”
“Sounds like he’s working at single-handedly nailing my
coffin shut. I’d have thought when James and I paid him that
visit he would’ve spit this out. Maybe he needs a reminder from
us that we don’t want anything else held back.”
“We’ll be talking to Utley tomorrow, to get his take on
things. He’s a pretty dark character, as well, right? He alibied
himself when we first interviewed him, but never mentioned
anything about a relationship with Jessica. Just like everyone we
talk to in this case, you have to pull everything out of them and
no one gets it right the first time.”
“Tyrell’s tough. He doesn’t rattle easily. Your sadistic
partner can have some fun with him. My money’s on Ty though.
Your guy is about to meet his match.”
“Then I’ll encourage him to get nasty, I promise you
that. But for now…” she reached under the covers and slid her
hand down his stomach, finding him erect.
He caught his breath sharply, and said, “You’re
insatiable.”
“I have a lot of lost fantasies to catch up on.”
6
:00 a.m. Karen and Will watch as the players saunter onto the
practice field. “They look pretty ragged for a play-off team, eh?”
“Will, at this hour of the morning who doesn’t look
ragged? I can’t imagine being padded up and working through a
day in this heat. It’s the middle of December and they say it’s
going to hit the high eighties today. Well, at least they get to
wear shorts.”
“Yeah, well, this isn’t about weather or what the players
are wearing, hon. This is about finding a murderer.”
“Oh, thank you Sergeant Friday. I quite forgot. I
so
thought I was here to watch muscular men and get autographs.
Why don’t you drink that coffee coolata and chill out some. It’ll
be awhile before you can badger these guys.”
“Yeah, fine. You go to Dunkin’ Donuts and you don’t
think to pick up a bagel or something to go with this stuff?”
“Geez! Anyone else would be grateful for the coffee.”
“
Anyone
, like maybe number thirteen out there?”
“It’s too early for this shit, Will. Back off.”
“Just remember that
I’m
lead on this case. I call the
shots, and whether or not you agree, you live with them. You got
that straight?”
“Where the hell did that come from? You’re just way too
hung up on being lead detective here.”
“Yeah. And you just get way too fucking happy when
that prick is around. It puts me off and makes me think maybe
you’re enjoying this way too much. All tied up in knots over that
murdering slime bucket, is what you are, lady.”
“All this because I didn’t bring you donuts?”
“Yeah, go ahead. Blow me off, but you know where the
hell I’m coming from here.”
“Whatever. You’ve really become the quintessential
asshole over this case.” And then, with the small hope of
lightening the mood, she stuck her tongue out at him.
“Oh, look who’s headed our way, your buddy Coach
Raymond. Did you give him the heads-up on our needing to visit
with his boy Utley this morning?”
“Nah, he’ll find out quick enough. Shit, this case is more
like watching one of them fucking reality shows. Sex, drugs and
the favorite survivor wins.
“I’m as big a football fan as the next guy, but I got no
stomach for the bullshit going on with this team. Bunch of
overpaid prima donnas. Too much money, too much time on
their hands and too many fuckheads willing to make it easy for
‘em. So long’s the owners are making money they’ll put up with
anything these assholes got to give and cover up any messes they
make along the way.”
As the coach approached, Will stopped ranting and
switched gears without missing a beat. He smiled and reached
out with a warm handshake.
Karen was so disgusted with Will’s second face that she
turned her back on him for a moment and looked out at the
players hoping to see #13. Her partner was imagining nothing,
and she was pretty sure he knew it. She winced, realizing that
she, too, had a second face, and a hidden agenda. She turned
from the field and looked over at Will, hoping he hadn’t noticed
to where her attention had wandered off.
“Coach! How’s it looking for the big game this week?
You suppose those guys in Boston are sweating some after
yesterday’s blow out against the Rockets? That was some sweet
win.”
Never one to linger on a victory, Coach Raymond
snapped at Will. “Every week’s a new game, every win is as
good as the moment, and the team’s just gotta move on
afterwards. I’m sure the Minutemen are chafing at their bits to
get at us. That game’s gonna be a real motherfucker...” At that
moment the Coach became aware of Karen’s stare and stopped
himself. “Uh, sorry m’am. I guess I’ve been too long in the sun.
You’ll have to excuse my language.”
Then back to Will, “You can be damn sure they ain’t
gonna lay down and die for us like those pussies from New York
did. Anyways, how’d you find your seats for the game? Most
folks seem to like hanging out with the brass in the boxes.”
“Best I ever had. Forty-five yard line and free beer and
food. That’s what I call living the good life!” Will gave him a
big smile. “Thanks a lot, man.”
“Well, stop shaking up my staff some and the same
ones’ll be open for you this week if you’re interested.”
“Sure! That’d be great.” He gave the coach a
conspiratorial wink. “Purely for investigational purposes, you
know.” Karen thought she was going to throw up.
“No problem. I’ll get ’em over to you sometime around
mid-week. So, what brings you here so early in the morning
anyway? I know you’re not planning to bother any of my boys,
right?”
“Uh, well, as a matter of fact we’re gonna need to pull
one of your players for some questioning. But we’ll keep it short.
Don’t want to screw up our deal for the tickets, heh-heh.”
The coach’s smile was replaced by a hard glare. “Sands
again?”
“No, not today, though we’re not finished with him by
any stretch of the imagination.” He turned to his partner and
said, “Right, Karen? She gave a somber nod.
“Well who then?” the coach asked. “I know you already
spoke to Lundy, and one cop or another has pretty much spooked
all the other players. Arnold’s still stinging from the slap you
gave him after the game yesterday. Maybe you could put your
time to better use somewhere else today.”
Will clamped his jaw shut for a minute. He took a deep
breath and flashed a big crocodile smile at the coach. “How
about you deal with football and leave the homicide
investigation to us. So far we’ve tried not to step too far onto the
playing field, if you get my drift. But if we have to, we’ll roust
everybody associated with this team. Everybody. Fuck the box
seats.”
The Coach squinted his eyes as though appraising the
detective’s resolve. Finally, he shook his head and asked, “Who
do you want?”
“I need Tyrell Utley.”
“U-Utley?” he sputtered. “What’s he go to do with this?
Sands and him don’t even talk
on
the field unless they have to.”
“Look, Coach, this is police business. The more time
passes, the less likely we’ll find Jessica Benson’s killer. That
means that whenever and whoever we need to talk to we’re
gonna do it. Now the quicker you get Utley over here, the
quicker we’ll be outta here. Understand?”
Raymond made a show of clearing is throat, then turned
and spat. “Doesn’t look like I have any say in this mess anyhow,
does it. Gimme a minute and I’ll send him over to you.”
“Got some place we can talk to him, in private?”
The coach sighed and said, “Yeah, use my office.
Utley’ll take you there. I don’t need you distracting the other
players any more than you have to.”
Karen smiled. “Thanks, Coach.”
He grimaced at her and headed off toward the field.
Will turned to Karen. “Now aren’t you Miss Nicey Nice
with the coach.” Karen arched an eyebrow and said, “Just trying
to follow my lead’s example.”
The Coach’s office was a big step up from Luke
Arnold’s cluttered box. It was impressively decorated in the team
colors and was almost pathologically neat. Plush silver carpeting
covered the floor wall-to-wall, with the team’s crimson logo
woven in the center. Footprints showed everywhere on the
freshly vacuumed carpet except on the grinning Demon. The
papers and files on his teak desk were precisely stacked. It was
set against a vast picture window that overlooked the field so
that Raymond could take care of paperwork and not miss a
minute of the action on the field. On the other side of the room, a
complicated video set-up was housed in a black wall unit next to
a teak conference table surrounded by a dozen black leatherupholstered chairs. A 72-inch flat screen monitor covered the
wall.
Utley stared sullenly at the two detectives. He didn’t
leave any doubt that he was a hostile witness. Will stood while
Karen relaxed in the Coach’s chair. Utley sat across the desk
from Karen.
“So, you never left your house that night after the guests
were gone, huh?” Will asked.
“Look, I been through this with you before. Not
everybody left. I had some sleepover guests. Dig?”
“Team members?”
“Huh. I don’t think so! It was a coupla lady friends of
mine.”
“So you had a couple of females stay the night. What
about Jessica. She ever stay the night with you?”
“What if she did? No laws I know against it.”
“Don’t be a smartass,” Will shouted. “Just answer the
fucking questions!”
“Hey man. I could give a shit about that broad. We
hooked up a few times. She was a real trick. She be doin’
everybody around this town some time or another. Hot piece,
hear?
“This the Black man’s burden. Get a little cozy with a
white woman and next thing you a murder suspect. Whitey
gonna come right after you.
“Watch out, man, or I’ll slap a lawsuit on you, harassing
innocent African-Americans. Next thing you be beatin’ on me to
force a confession. I want my lawyer. I know my rights...”
“Settle down, dickweed. No one’s harassing you, but
you got some questions to answer. We can do it with your
attorney present, down at the station or we can take care of it
here, without the media circus. It’s your call.”
“Hey man. Chill out. Sands was runnin’ around like a
fuckin’ crazy man the night that chick was killed. Knocked some
guy half unconscious for just dancing with his ho’ and then she
gets beaten to death later on. So tell me again, boss, why you
hassling me, huh? Don’t take rocket science to solve this one.”
Will leaned down, his face square with Utley’s. “Now
listen real close to what I am saying here. We know all about
Sands’ and the deceased’s problems that night. That’s not what I
want from you. I want you only to answer what you’re asked.
You can skip the descriptive dialogues. And in case you’ve
forgotten, my question was about
your
relationship with Benson,
not Sands’. Get it right or we take it down to the station, like I
said.”
“Shit. Okay, okay. Sure, you right, Jessica and me spent
some time together here and there. Meant nothing to me but a
hot piece of ass. But she the type like to sink her hooks in and
suck the life outta you, and I don’t mean that in a good way. She
always wanting more of everything, more’n what I had for her,
for sure. I got real tired of it, you know what I’m saying? So, I
told her to stick with the white boy and lay offa me. But she
greedy, want her chocolate and her vanilla, dig? She even
threatened me she gonna tell Kyle I was making moves on her.
Nasty bitch, yo? I told her to do what she wanted, s’long’s she
did it away from me. The fact being, I told her if she didn’t back
offa me, I be going to Sands myself. That was a while ago and
she ain’t messed with me since.” He smiled defiantly at the two
detectives.
“You had no relationship at all with her after that?” Will
asked.
“We never had no relationship
before
that. I was just
fuckin’ her, the way she liked it.”