Under Abnormal Conditions (25 page)

“Where are you going to go?”

“I really don’t know, but with everything
that has gone on, I can’t stay here.” As I said the words, I
wondered whether or not the police could have tapped my phone line,
or hers. “We can’t talk on the phone. It’s just not safe.”

“You can’t just leave . . . not again,” she
cried.

“Sara, I can’t stay here. No one will believe
I didn’t do it.” As I talked, I walked back to the closet and
pulled out another shirt. The dressing had loosened and the wound
began to bleed again.

“Running is going to help?” she asked as her
voice began to break. “And besides, I believe you.”

“What else can I do? If I don’t come to the
police with answers I might as well lock myself up.”

“Wait for me,” she said through her tears.
“Can you wait for me? I promise to get there as fast as I can.”

“Sara, I don’t think-”

“Michael, please? I need to see you.”

“Okay. Get here as fast as you can. Bye.” I
quickly hung up the phone, and I went to my office. I don’t know
how I let her talk me into waiting for her. She was one of two
people that believed me. As with Trey, I didn’t want her to get too
involved.

In case something happened to me, I needed to
get my information to someone. If the information I had died with
me, it would kill my family, but who could I trust enough to give
it to?

I turned on the laptop computer and connected
to the WBRE News Website. I found Sharon Bryant’s email address and
began typing. No matter what, I knew that before the ink was dry
from her printer, the world would know my side of the story.

I wrote down everything from the first
threatening phone call to the suicide confession. Just as I
finished, I heard a knock. I remember thinking Sara had to have
made it there in record time. I finished the sentence I was working
on and hit the send button. I turned off the computer and went to
answer the door.

It was Detective Stone.

Chapter 38

“Michael, we need to ask you a few more
questions. You need to come with me to the station?” said the
detective.

“Am I under arrest?

“Do we have to go through this every time?”
he said, dripping with attitude.

“When are you guys going to leave me alone?
You know I didn’t kill anyone. It’s easier for you to stick this on
me than to find the real killer.”

He reached around to his back and pulled out
his handcuffs. “Am I going to need these?” he said as he stepped
into the house. I had to step back so he wouldn’t bump into my
arm.

“No. What is this about anyway?”

“Do you know a private detective named C.R.
Harrison?”

With that, I knew exactly what he wanted. My
fingerprints were probably still all over that office. I didn’t
answer.

“Well, he was found murdered this morning,
and we found your prints on the scene.”

“Am I under arrest?”

“Look, Drake, I don’t have a warrant, but I
can be back with one in an hour. I can have an officer here in five
to baby-sit you until I get back. Come on down, and hopefully we
can clear this up.”

I knew I had been in that office, and the
police knew it. I didn’t have a choice but to go with him. Once
they found Dr. Pierre’s body, the case would be closed for
good.

“I was planning on seeing you guys today
anyway.”

“Is that right? About?” he asked.

Suddenly I remembered the suitcase.

“Can I get my coat and my shoes?” I asked as
I pointed to my slippers.

He didn’t object, and I walked hurriedly to
my room. Quickly, I hid the case in my closet and put on my tennis
shoes. I grabbed my jacket, locked up and left with the
detective.

Once again, I was in the back seat of a
police cruiser. How would I explain to them what I knew and how I
knew it. Before leaving, I had just slipped on my shoes; so I
reached down to tie them. As I tied, I noticed a business card
sticking out from under the driver’s side seat. It wasn’t just a
business card. It was the business card of Dr. Brian Harris, the
emergency room doctor from the night Sherry was killed.

I was ready to dismiss it to the fact I had
dropped it in my previous trip to the station. Then out of habit, I
picked up the card and looked at the back of it.

There, just as plain as the day I wrote it
was my name and pager number. That had to be the card I gave to
Carmen. I let the card fall back to the floor before the detective
got suspicious.

If he got me back to the police station, I
knew I would never make it out alive. He had to be involved in the
whole mess. He was the final link in the chain. Who else could have
been in a position to control virtually everything that was
happening to me? I had to think of something, someway to get him to
stop the car and give me a chance to escape.

The idea didn’t hit me until I put my hand in
my coat pocket, and I had Ricky to thank for it. When we were in
high school, he used this trick to get out of football practice
early. I still had the Alka-Seltzer tablets I bought a couple
nights before. I crushed them in the packet then I opened it and
put the powder in my mouth.

I could feel it bubbling and fizzing in my
mouth. It took everything I had not to just cough it up and ruin
the entire plan. After a few more seconds, I could barely keep the
liquid inside. I allowed it to drip down the side of my mouth as a
rolled my eyes back in my head. It didn’t take the detective long
to notice.

“What the hell . . .” he said, as he looked
at me through the rear view mirror. I started wailing and flailing
about in the back seat. I thought he might want to take me to the
hospital, so I said in a labored voice, “Stop, I know what to do.
Stop the car.”

The cool, calm detective was panicked, and he
couldn’t hide it. He pulled over to the side of road and
immediately got out to help me.

“What can I do?” he asked.

“Help me out and lie me on my back.”

The detective wasn’t a large man, so he
struggled pulling me from the car. He finally succeeded. I
continued to slobber and wheeze, as he seemed almost genuine with
his concern.

He knelt down so I could whisper in his ear.
This was the only opportunity I would have, so I had to be quick
and precise. His jacket opened just enough for me to see the gun in
his shoulder holster. I slowly tried to bring my left hand to grab
him around the collar. At that angle, along with the pain, there
was no way I could reach the gun. Mumbling gibberish, I dropped my
hand helplessly back to my side.

There was only one way for my plan to work. I
knew it would mean my life, if I was wrong, but I had no other
option. With all my strength, I crashed my right hand under the
chin of the kneeling detective. Stunned, he collapsed to his back.
I rushed to the fallen officer and removed his gun. After a few
deep breaths he arose, holding his chin.

Don’t trust anybody.

Chapter 39

For the first time since the whole ordeal had
begun, I was finally in control. He was the one staring at the
hollow barrel, he was the one with everything to lose, and he was
the one who should have been afraid.

So why wasn’t he?

He just stood there, with a sardonic smile on
his face. Finally, he broke the silence.

“What are you gonna do?” he said as he put
his hands above his head.

I wanted to kill him. Kill him dead. After
all he had put me through, he was mocking me? The trigger was
begging me to squeeze it. He had to die. He had to pay for what he
had done to me.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked,
lowering his hands.

As much as I wanted to kill him, he knew I
wasn’t a killer. He wasn’t the least bit afraid of me. I lowered
the gun. I could feel the path of one lone tear trail down my tired
face. I felt totally lost, and he was still in control. He took a
step towards me. Before he could take another one, I again had the
gun trained on him.

“How are you going to explain this along with
the other five bodies?” he said as blood dripped from the side of
his mouth.

“Five bodies? What five bodies?”

“Oh, that’s right, you didn’t know. I wanted
to talk to you about that. That pretty young coed, Carmen, it turns
out she was a college call girl. It seems she was murdered by her
last trick. It won’t take those lab boys long to figure out she
just had sex before she was killed. That DNA evidence is a killer
in the courtroom,” he said taking another step towards me.

I fired a warning shot at his feet. It may or
may not have scared him, but he stopped. In my mind, he was already
dead anyway. There was no way out of it. His adroitly laid plan was
perfect. So perfect I was damned no matter what I did, but I had to
know why.

“Just tell me why!” I shouted.

Smiling he said, “My brother had a passion
for dangerous women.”

“Dr. Pierre?” I asked.

“Yeah. He said you were a smart guy. You see,
being a cop, I was able to help him change his name and get a job
when he was released. He is my baby brother, so when he came to me
with a problem, I had to help. I owed him,” he explained.

“Why did you kill Phil?”

“Maybe you aren’t so smart. I killed Phil to
set you up. Now, you answer a question for me. How did your prints
get in the detective’s office?”

“I was there the night you killed him.”

“I couldn’t have planned that any better.
With your prints all over the place, everyone would know you were
dead bang guilty. We even set up that little flat tire situation.
How do you think your prints got on the murder weapon?”

Everything finally made sense to me. I
figured if I was going to be convicted for murder, maybe I should
make it count.

At that moment, another car pulled up. It was
Detective Williams. He had his gun drawn before he exited the
car.

It was time for the final standoff.

Chapter 40

“Put down the gun!” Williams shouted.

“Thank God you’re here,” Stone said. “He has
been hatching some plan to involve us in those murders. I didn’t
know what he was going to do?”

“Just drop the gun, and no one gets hurt,” he
shouted again as he crouched behind the open car door for
cover.

No, I didn’t believe that either, but what
else could I have done. I dropped the gun and kicked it a few feet
from me. As Stone walked over to pick it up, I had just one last
message for him.

“Last night I killed your brother,” I said
slowly and deliberately.

“You’re lying.”

“He told me everything, and it’s all going to
come out. I don’t have a gun. What are you gonna do? Shoot me?
Explain that to your partner.”

The smile quickly left his face, as his
partner wanted to know what was happening. The rage in his eyes was
undeniable. I couldn’t imagine many people had survived after
seeing that look.

“What’s going on?” yelled Williams from the
car.

“I got it covered partner. Just hold on,” he
replied. He turned back to face me and whispered. “Where’s my
brother?”

Our roles had completely reversed. The cool
calm detective that was so in control without the gun was now
searching for the right path. While I wasn’t totally in control, I
had him where I wanted him. He couldn’t just kill me in cold blood
and he couldn’t take the chance of taking me in.

“Are you all right?” Williams shouted.

“Yeah . . .but I don’t have any cuffs. Toss
me yours,” he returned.

With his eye on me, Williams closed the car
door and reached for his handcuffs.

As soon he was clear of the car, Stone pumped
a slug into his chest. He turned to me again. His face was red with
anger.

“OK, smart guy. You’re going to the gas
chamber. You just killed a cop. You took my gun and shot my partner
and I shot you in self-defense. As smart as you are college boy, I
was still to-”

“You’re going to shoot me with the same gun I
shot your partner with. How is that possible?” I interrupted. I was
sure he could talk his way out of it, but it bought me a little
more time.

He chuckled to himself and answered, “I like
the way you think. You could have been a good cop.”

He bent down and pulled a small revolver from
his ankle. As many cops did, he carried a throw down piece. He then
pointed the service revolver in the air and unloaded it. He tossed
it to the ground in front of me.

“Pick it up,” he said coldly.

With a smile on my face I said, “No.”

“What’s so damned funny?” he questioned.

The shot hit him in the back of his right
shoulder causing him to drop the gun. He grabbed his arm and fell
to the ground. From there I was sure he had a good view of
Detective Williams and his .9mm staring at him.

“Wait you don’t understand?” he cried.

“I know all I need to know,” he said,
breathing heavily.

He ordered the crooked cop to his knees and
then handcuffed him. He brought Stone to his feet and placed him in
the car. He then called for an ambulance for his bleeding partner.
Stone yelled and screamed from the back of the cruiser. I don’t
know whether it was the pain from the gunshot or the pain of being
caught. Either way, he deserved it. He rocked back and forth,
screaming obscenities.

Williams leaned against the car with his head
in his hands. He didn’t seem the type to cry, but in that
situation, who could’ve blamed him. I just stood by silently,
almost afraid to move. With the mood he had to be in, the last
thing I was going to do was ask to leave.

Finally, the dry-eyed detective walked over
to me. The shame on his face was evident. I could see the words
forming in his mouth but nothing came out. Finally he said, “I
heard from that lawyer of yours. He said something about a message
he received from his son. He told me what had happened. I was en
route to pick you up when I saw ya’ll on the street. I had no idea.
Are you all right?”