The Mystery of Jessica Benson (4 page)

Once back in the squad room, she was relieved to see
that Will was working with Detective Bill Benjamin and his
partner, Detective Tom Grant, on the timeline of Jessica
Benson’s last day on earth. They claimed the highest solve rate
in the unit and made very few mistakes.

Through reports from the field they were able to
determine that Jessica was with Kyle at a party they had vacated
fairly early in the evening. It was also clear that the football
player’s attitude and behavior that night were ugly. Although he
had been scarce most of the evening, he had appeared morose
and made a scene when he found Jessica dancing with another
man. He had apparently assaulted the dance partner, knocking
him out cold. Like a caveman, most witnesses agreed, he
grabbed her and left the party.

From there the couple had gone to Jessica’s apartment
where they fought loud and long. Several neighbors overheard
the shouting, but paid little attention because she was, as one
tenant put it, “a drama queen.” No one saw or heard from her
again until the nosy neighbor with the weak stomach discovered
the body.

“Real nice guy, huh?” Will sneered. “Doesn’t sound
much like the Boy Scout Rafe Strickland described, right, Kar?”
Karen put her right hand to her heart and made an
attempt at looking fierce. “Bad to the bone, Will. Why don’t we
just go pick him up now and read him his rights?” Then she
smiled and rolled her eyes.
“What? You gonna take up for this dickweed, Karen?”
“Just because I don’t want to form a posse and lynch
him doesn’t mean I’m taking up for him.”
“Can’t you just accept that a case can be cut-and-dry
once in a while? Don’t like to see the quarterback take a hit,
huh? Maybe you got a thing for the football hero yourself?” Will
taunted.
Karen felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up and
grimaced. She managed to shake her head and say, “I just don’t
think it’s that easy. Guy’s in a lousy mood, makes a big scene in
a crowd and then takes his girlfriend home and punches her
lights out. Get real, Will. It’s never that easy and you know it!
“It’s just that I don’t want to run away with this case and
then have us look like total assholes when it turns out we fucked
up.”
“I’m not just grabbing an easy way out, Karen. Sands is
what, thirty-five, six? His career is about over. This is probably
gonna be his last season. Look at what the Dolphins did to
Marino when they decided he was used up. Demons drafted the
second coming of Christ this year, so they’re set with their QB of
the future. Writing’s on the wall. So suppose this guy’s having a
problem accepting the inevitable. Top that off, his girlfriend’s
fucking around on him. At the party he acts like a Neanderthal
man. He knocks a guy out and drags his woman home. He’s had
a couple too many beers and she gives him lip. Maybe makes a
crack about his game, or worse, maybe he tries to fuck her and
he can’t get it up, so he loses it. Crime scene checks out. Mouth
taped, the blood carving on her forehead…pure rage. It’s classic.
And you want us to chase our goddamned tails all over town?
Give me a break!”
Bill Benjamin interrupted. “Yo! Kids. Stop that shit and
pay attention.
“Listen Will. I’ve been following Sands since he was at
UM. His stats are still pretty damn good. I don’t see the Demons
looking to dump him so fast. He’s Mister Clean his whole life.
Grew up down here. Smashed the record books in high school,
college and is still breaking records in the League. The kid’s a
real homeboy. His family lives down here, too. Nah, I can’t see
him blowing everything over a woman like that. Besides, he’s a
babe-magnet, plenty of women out there, and he could have his
pick. I should be so lucky. I think there are plenty of rocks out
there to be turned before this file gets closed. I’m with Brandt on
this one. You’re jumping the gun here.”
But Will was stuck on Sands. “Oh, and there’s never
been a case of a clean cut football hero who’s run amok over a
woman. Those divas think they can get away with anything,
including murder, just because they’re hot items on the field. Do
I have to name names of murderers who are playing ball as we
speak? Maybe they don’t think at all. Except for the fact that
they do get away with it. The fuckers!”
Benjamin laughed. “What? Are you jealous ’cause all
you get is sloppy seconds, big guy?”
“That’s it,” Will shot back. “I don’t have a wife to take
care of my every need like you, man.”
Karen winced. “I’m with Benjie here. It’s too pat. Never
been in trouble and all of a sudden he’s beating guys up and
ranting like a lunatic. He might just as well have signed the
crime scene for us.”
“So, hot shot, what’re you suggesting?” Will asked.
“Jesus, it’s a no-brainer here. Let’s go visit with Kyle
Sands, find out what he has to offer. Maybe we can even catch
him before the media gets its teeth into this.” She rose from her
chair and pulled on the gear belt that held her 9mm Sig-Sauer.
“Let’s get going. C’mon. Take the donut with you.”
“Yeah, okay. We’ll try it your way. And then we’ll
arrest the son of a bitch.” He was on his feet and halfway to the
door before she could protest.
“Wait up,” she called. “You forgot the noose. It’d be
nice if we could hear his side of the story before we handcuff
him, don’t you think? Just on the remote possibility that he
wasn’t the one who did her.”
On her way out she looked back at Bill Benjamin and
thanked him for taking up for her with Will.
“Not a problem. He’s really gung ho on this one and we
all know how it goes when Kaufman gets a wild hair up his ass.
But the truth is, Sands looks pretty good for this one. Be a
shame, though. Demons are ripe for a championship, and I’ve
always liked Sands.”
“Give Garcia a nudge when you see him, will you? I’m
hoping he came up with something from the stuff he picked up at
her apartment.”
But they all knew Garcia needed no pushing. He was
good at his job and never found working on weekends a
problem. He was one of the best looking men in the Department,
and arguably the most unfaithful to his wife. Marriage didn’t
seem to stop him from prowling and women were usually willing
to ignore the gold band he wore. Regardless, his social life never
interfered with his job, but Karen couldn’t help but think that all
the unscheduled hours he put in made it easier to alibi the time
he wasn’t with his wife.
The Miami Beach Police Department’s lab was the best
equipped in the County and could handle everything on premises
except DNA testing. After sweeping the crime scene clean, there
was no doubt Garcia would lose himself in the small, morguelike facility into the night in an attempt to analyze the evidence.
The only woman he would be concerned about tonight was the
one whose body had been delivered to the morgue this morning.

K
yle despised Saturday practice. This morning he was so
detached and unfocused that he made stupid mistakes on top of
bad judgment calls. His arm was off, his timing sucked, and his
head felt as though it was waterlogged. The harder he worked,
the worse he played. The coach finally pulled him and pointed to
the bench which is where he watched as Tyrell Utley went in and
made everything look easy.

Kyle stared out at the ordered chaos on the practice field
as the young quarterback swept easily through the defense. One
of the trainers handed him an ice pack, which he applied to his
chronically sore shoulder without taking his eyes from the field.
Utley, the slashing runner and elite passer —
snotty little
hothead
— moved the team effortlessly toward the goal line. The
bastard was anxious to take charge, and his lightening quick
score on the third play of the series caused Kyle to wince. He
was worn out, but the decision he’d made the night before was
irrevocable.
Don’t get too comfortable, Ty. I’m not leaving until
after this season. After.

James Lundy came off the field and sat next to Kyle.
“What’s the story with Jessica? You do the deed, or did you
pussy out again, man?”

“It was miserable. Lousy for both of us. Kind of like our
entire relationship, I suppose. I’m gonna call her after practice
and try to straighten things out. She was pretty crazy when I left
last night.”

James spat, “What the fuck are you talking about, man?
Don’t tell me you’re thinking about hooking back up with her?”
“No. , no! But I feel like crap about the way things
went last night, so I figure to maybe take her to dinner like I
planned in the first place and wrap it up with a little less
acrimony.
If
that meets with your approval, of course.”
“I don’t mean to be telling you how to run your life,
man, but that woman got what she deserved. You were too good
to her and she blew it. Now go get on wit’cher life and forget
about the bitch.”
James grinned. His white teeth nearly glowed in contrast
to the black of his skin. He was handsome with strong AfricanAmerican features and a body strung with natural muscle. He
was fond of telling people that he didn’t have to work for his
strength; he was born with it, like Sampson.
Kyle shook his head and coughed out a short laugh.
“Don’t hold back on me, Lundy. Tell me how you
really
feel!”
The Coach motioned James to get back on the field. He
gave a quick pat to his friend’s leg, winked, and jogged back into
the scrimmage.
Hal Raymond joined the Demons two seasons ago as the
Head Coach and unleashed a plan that clearly had not included
Kyle. A pure passer, Kyle had never been a brilliant scrambler.
After years of the game’s brutality, surgical scars railroaded
across his knees and he’d broken more bones than he could
count. The numbers he had put up owing to his amazingly swift
release of the ball promised him a place in the Hall of Fame, just
as his inability to scramble left visions of wheelchairs flying
across his mind.
The Coach gave up third and fifth round picks to draft
high enough to get Utley this season, and made no secret of his
preference for Ty’s style over Sands’. The kid’s youth, speed and
even his wild temper put him on the fast track to first string;
however, Kyle’s ability to read defenses and passion for winning
kept him in the game. His determination would allow him to exit
the same way he had entered, on top.

Joe Fraga, the team’s physician put a hand on Kyle’s bad
shoulder. Kyle looked up and said, “It’s healing, doc.”
“Good. Good. Keep the ice on. Any other complaints?”
“None that you can help me with,” Kyle answered.
Fraga gave the quarterback a semi-smile, bordering on
leer. “Oh yeah, I heard you and Jessica had some problems last
night.”
“God, word’s out already?”
“Yep. Lot of people got to witness the blow out you and
she had at Utley’s, and they’re all wagging their tongues about it.
You’re better off without her anyway. That broad’s got the
history, you know, and I don’t mean a good one. Way too hot for
her own good. So now she’s out in the cold again. Not for too
long, I’d bet. That broad works fast! Sleep with dogs…uh, no
offense, old fella.” He threw up his arms in mock apology.
Kyle squinted into the sun, attempting to focus on the
doctor’s eyes. “I didn’t know you knew her.”
Fraga took a step back. “Yeah, well, I more or less know
of her. That reputation of hers, you know. Great looking babe,
but tough. A real party girl. Talk was that she’d straightened up
some when she took up with you, but oh well—not the nature of
the animal. Some just can’t be tamed. You know, a rolling stone
gathers no moss.”
The king of cliché
, Kyle thought, nodding, rather than
rolling his eyes.
“Heads up, old man,” the doctor continued, “the playoffs are right around the corner and you’ve got to be fit as a
fiddle to keep the team on track.”
“Well, thanks for the encouragement, doc. Your
approval is vital to my performance,” Kyle said, almost tangling
his tongue in his cheek.
“No problem. We’re all behind you, the team’s fearless
leader. You be sure to have Gloria put some extra time in on that
shoulder. Ultrasound, massage. The usual. I also want a couple
of x-rays to be sure it’s healing properly. Let me know if you
need anything for pain.”
Kyle’s head was throbbing and his muscles were coiled
into painful reminders that he was no longer young. The massage
was a relaxing thought though, and Gloria, his favorite trainer,
gave a great one.
He watched as the doctor sauntered toward the locker
room. He wasn’t a handsome man, but in a swarthy way he was
interesting. His dark salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back
straight, frozen on a sculpted base of sharp bones and perpetual
but carefully cultivated five o’clock shadow. He kept himself
trim with a multi-year membership at Gold’s Gym and wore his
Armani suits well. It occurred to Kyle that this was one doctor
who didn’t deal with HMOs.
Kyle walked over to the water table, wishing it were
cold beer. He gulped down a cup of Gatorade and thought about
heading to the training room for that massage when Coach
Raymond’s booming voice rattled his brain.
And here came the doctor’s antithesis. Coach was a pro
linebacker in the late 1970s, his battle over the bulge had long
been lost. The barrel chest had fallen into a pot belly and he
sweated as though he’d sprung a leak. A few wiry hairs poked
out from under his ragged cap. He was disheveled as usual, with
a raggedy three-day growth of graying whiskers.
“What the fuck’s a matter with you today, Sands? You
can’t seem to get outta your own way! What? Your shoulder
getting worse?”
“Shoulder’s fine, Coach.”
“Yeah? So what’d the doc want? I’m sure he didn’t
come out just to shoot the shit, hey.”
“Well, yeah, he sort of did, now that you mention it,
Coach. He was just cruising for gossip.”
“Heh. And you’re the one who’s the center of it today.
Heard you made a real ass outta yourself at Tyrell’s last night.
Word is you were some kind of warrior and that’s okeedokee
with me s’long’s you don’t let it affect your performance out
here.
“I don’t wanna keep having to lecture you about what’s
ahead, son, and the importance of keeping your head on straight,
do I?” His gestures mimicked President Bush’s during one of his
carefully choreographed speeches.
“And that broad ain’t worth fretting over any which
way.” He stopped talking and moved in close to Kyle.
The stench of his chewing tobacco almost made the
quarterback gag. Raymond’s voice grew threatening.
“Hear me good, boy. Let her go and get your head back
in the game. We only got two left on the schedule and I’m
planning for the Demons to win both of ’em. Then we’re heading
to the play-offs.
“I don’t know what’s going on in your mind, but wipe it
clean and come ready to play. Don’t mean shit to me to bench
your ass and give Tyrell his chance. He’s more’n ready for it,
and if he’s ready and you’re not, you better start makin’ fast
friends with the fucking bench. You know what I’m saying?” He
cleared his throat with a deep retching cough and spit a wicked
brown mixture of mucous and tobacco not far from Kyle’s feet.
A dead silence hung over them. The two looked hard at
one another and finally, with no further advice, the Coach
stomped away.
Probably going to hassle some other poor
schmuck
, Kyle thought. Having no further stomach for field-side
lectures, Kyle headed to the locker room.
Halfway there he saw Luke Arnold, the team’s security
chief, heading his way with two people in tow, a sour looking
man and what looked to be a fairly attractive woman, both
wearing visitors’ passes and guns.
“Hey Kyle. Hold up a minute. These folks are here to
see you.” Then as he got closer, he mouthed “Police.”
Kyle smiled at them and threw his arms up in surrender.
“I bought two tickets to the ball already.”
No one smiled back, and he thought he heard the guy
mutter
asshole
under his breath. As they got closer, the male
asked Arnold if there was somewhere they could meet privately
with Kyle. Arnold nodded and beckoned them to follow him into
the complex’s offices.
Kyle only caught a glance at the female as she turned her
head to speak with her partner, but something about her struck a
chord. She was reminiscent of someone he had known a long
time ago. He studied her more closely and realized it was, in
fact, Karen Brandt. He instinctively moved toward her, but
something stopped him. She cocked her head and lifted her hand
just enough for him to stay put.
Arnold made sure the trio was comfortable in a small
conference room and offered coffee or cold drinks. Beverages
were declined and Luke left, closing the door behind him. Karen
spoke first.
“I’m Detective Karen Brandt and this is my partner, Will
Kaufman. We need to talk with you about last night.”
When he heard her voice, memories came flooding back.
Karen’s brother, Brett, had been his closest friend in high school.
He was Kyle’s best receiver as well, and they had been
inseparable. Then Brett got sick. He was diagnosed with
leukemia and forced to undergo rigorous chemotherapy. Kyle
wanted to quit football and spend more time with him, but Brett
had insisted he continue playing, for both of them. Finally there
had been an unsuccessful bone marrow transplant and he died
shortly afterward. It had been the event that came closest to
causing Kyle to quit the game forever, yet morphed into the
driving force for success as a college and pro quarterback.
Again he wanted to reach for her, but Karen, as though
intercepting his thought, opened her eyes wide in warning. She
was three years younger than he and had been a real tomboy. He
had never seen her as anything but Brett’s kid sister, and he had
loved her for that, but the pressures of college football had
interfered and he had eventually lost touch with the Brandt
family.
He gulped some air and finally spoke. “What about last
night? Don’t tell me that creep from Utley’s party filed a
complaint against me. Look, he asked for what he got. I tried to
be civil to him. There were plenty of witnesses. He was the one
who got physical first. I just wanted to get my girl and get outta
there.”
Will raised an eyebrow and asked, “You’re talking a lot,
Sands. You had a problem with someone last night?”
“
Problem
might be a stretch, detective. I never saw this
guy before, but he was all over my date. I asked him, more than
once, to let go of her, but he got nasty. He pushed me, so I
slugged him is all.”
Karen watched quietly as the two men pissed out their
territories. She knew Kyle recognized her, as she hoped he
might, but he read her look and shut his mouth. If Will knew
about the past there would be no way he’d let her continue on the
case. But Kyle had been too good to her brother, and following
his death, to her. She felt she owed him and intended to stay on
this case until it was solved.
“There have been no complaints filed by anyone from
last night. I’m afraid it’s more serious than that.” Karen
hesitated, wanting to frame her words just right. “Uh, you were
with Jessica Benson at Tyrell Utley’s party last night, correct?
She was the date you’re referring to?”
“God, is the whole world in on that? Don’t tell me
she
filed a complaint!”
Karen started to respond, but Will cut her off.
“What makes you think she would file a complaint
against you, or did you slug her too?” Kyle glared at him but said
nothing.
“Well it’s for damn sure you won’t be smacking her
around any time soon,” Will charged on. “She’s dead.”
Kyle did not move at first. He stared at Will as though
trying to gauge his intentions. Then he looked toward Karen for
confirmation. The tension was palpable and his face went slack
when he realized it was true. He did a stutter step with his tongue
and finally spoke.
“When I left her last night she was plenty pissed, but
alive. I don’t…what happened? Was it drugs?”
Karen was livid at Will for his callous behavior. At
times he was insensitive, but today he was downright cruel. As
for Kyle, she felt sure his shock was genuine. He appeared to be
blindsided by the news of Jessica’s death.
“No easy way to say it,” Karen went on. “She was
murdered. I’m sorry to have dropped this on you this way, but
we have to move quickly and have little time for the amenities.
We need to know what time it was when you left her.”
Kyle sat still for a moment. He opened his mouth to
speak a couple of times, but stopped. He looked from Karen to
her partner as though waiting for more. Finally he said, “I guess
it was around eleven. I wasn’t paying any attention to the time.
Like I said, we broke up, and it wasn’t cordial, then, well….”
Karen could see he hadn’t yet gathered his thoughts and
she stepped on his words. “Where did you go when you left her
last night?
Kyle looked dazed. “Home. I just went home.
Karen prayed Will couldn’t gauge the anguish she felt
for putting Kyle on the rack like this.
“Okay. Did you stop anywhere along the way? Talk to
anyone? Make or receive any phone calls?”
“No. I was pretty steamed up. We had an ugly argument
and I left there pretty angry. It’d been coming for a long time.
When I got home I parked my own car to avoid bumping into
anyone and took the service elevator up to my place. Everyone
wants to, you know, talk about the team and the playoffs, and
Jesus! Are we really having this conversation? Jessica, dead?”
“Will jumped back into the act. “Yeah, dead. Murdered,
just like I said. You got a problem hearing? We can get someone
to sign for you…. So let’s try to move along with this. When did
you finally see or speak to someone?”
Kyle’s color was somewhere short of white. “Not until
this morning when I got to practice.”
“Are you okay?” Karen couldn’t stop herself from
interceding. He looked as though he was going to be sick.
Kyle nodded unconvincingly.
Kaufman jumped right back in. “You’re a pretty damn
good actor, Sands. You must’ve been rehearsing your reaction
all night long. But getting all dewy eyed doesn’t mean you didn’t
kill her.”
Kyle looked at him and asked, “Do I need an attorney
here?”
“Oh, I dunno. Do you?”
Clearly at a loss, Kyle turned to Karen and said, “Look, I
don’t even know how she was killed.”
“She was beaten to death.”
He closed his eyes and slumped down in his chair. Then
he asked, “Was she raped?”
“We’re waiting for results from the lab. I have to ask
you this. Did you have sexual relations with Jessica last night?”
Karen gnawed on her bottom lip. All her old feelings
about her brother’s handsome friend came rushing back and she
was feeling more like a little girl with a crush than a police
officer conducting a murder investigation.
Kyle looked as though she’d told him his fly was open.
“Sexual relations?”
The short thread of patience Will had exercised until
now broke. “My partner asked whether you got laid last night
before you took off from Ms. Benson’s apartment. Did you fuck
her? Maybe
that’s
easier for you to comprehend?”
Karen knew that she and Will were close enough for him
to recognize she was off her game. Close enough, in fact, that he
probably suspected that it was Kyle who was throwing her off.
She tried to unclench her jaw and get her poker face back to
preclude any further showdowns with him.
“No, it wasn’t like that. I had planned to break things off
with her. I didn’t want to go to the party. But Jessica did, and she
usually got her way. As soon as I got her home I ended things.
There was plenty of arguing, but definitely no sex.”
Karen could not hold back. “You understand we have to
ask you these questions. We don’t mean to be insensitive, but we
have to move quickly to find out as much as we can as fast as we
can. Time is critical.”
She hoped he recognized what she was doing and felt
better when he nodded to her.
But Will pressed on. “So your story is that you left her
around eleven and didn’t speak to her again?”
“That’s right. I was planning to call her today after
practice and well, you know, try to clean up loose ends.”
“What exactly do you mean by ‘loose ends’?”
“It’s just an expression, Detective Kaufman. I don’t like
burning my bridges with people.” He paused for a short moment,
and then, as though he’d had a second thought, said, “It’s called
manners. My mom taught me.”
Karen tried to suppress a smile as Will was boiling over.
“You think you’re real funny, don’t you?”