Brooklyn's Song Page 3

  Once back at her apartment, Brooklyn decided to take a hot bath; she rested her head back on a bath pillow and was immersed in warm water and bubbles. The scent of vanilla delicately filled the air. She was overcome with emotion when the image of her father lying motionless on the floor with blood trickling from his temple flashed in her mind. After her bath, she lie quietly in the bed, praying for her father and Lydia. Tears dried on her face as she gradually fell off to sleep.

  ****

  Song and Mattice sat and watched as a security guard played the surveillance tape. It was now three in the morning.

  “Stop it right there!” Song said. A medium build man wearing a red baseball cap, sunglasses, and a flannel shirt entered the ballroom. He kept his head down, hiding from the camera. He watched the governor up on the stage, and then reached into his pocket and took out his cell phone.

  “Come on, look up; let us see your face,” Song said, staring at the screen.

  “He definitely wasn’t talking, so he must have received a text,” Mattice said.

  “Can you zoom in on the screen of the phone?” Song asked.

  The security guard, an obese man with thin hair and even thinner patience, yawned and clicked the mouse. “This is as close as we’re going to get. I don’t have those capabilities,” he said, with frustration, “I’ve asked my boss repeatedly to upgrade our system, but he said we don’t have the funds. Maybe now the asshole will listen to me. Make sure you let him know I worked overtime tonight.”

  Mattice slapped the security guard on the back. “Dude, I’m willing to bet your system will be ungraded before the end of the week. Yeah, I’ll let him know that you took time out of reading your girly magazine to help us out.”

  Mattice looked over at the Playboy on top of the desk.

  “I need something to keep me awake…You know,” he said, with a sheepish grin and turning red with embarrassment.

  “Please move it forward a little,” Song requested, oblivious to the security guard’s confession. The tape sped up and the governor and Lydia appeared on the screen. They were posing for pictures and shaking hands with supporters. Suddenly the governor looked to his left and his facial expression abruptly changed. Within seconds Lydia fell back into his arms and then the governor stumbled backwards and collapsed. The guy in the baseball cap disappeared into the crowd. People were running and screaming. It was pure pandemonium. Song watched people running and falling, trying to get to the exit. Then he saw Brooklyn, frozen in place, while chaos spun around her like a raging hurricane. Song winced when he saw her knocked to the floor.

  “Please give us a print out, from every angle, of the guy wearing the baseball cap and then we’ll let you get back to ….Whatever it is you were doing,” Mattice said, with a grin.

  Chapter 9

  Brooklyn barely got any sleep. Old memories of standing by her mother’s hospital bed and screaming for her to “wake up!” came crashing back, as if her mother’s death was just yesterday. She awakened with a longing that had never left her. The first thing she did before showering was contact the hospital to check on her father and Lydia. Both were doing well. In fact, her father was scheduled to be released later in the day. She planned on going to see him as soon as school let out. She also called Jules, but Dan picked up and told her she was still sleeping. Usually Brooklyn would take the subway or a taxi to get around town, but since she was assigned a security detail, she was chauffeured to the police station to meet with the sketch artist.

  The desk sergeant was on the phone when Brooklyn arrived. He wore the uniform well; he had salt and pepper hair, a fair complexion and a thin mustache. He looked to be in his late 60’s. His name tag read: Sergeant Wheaton. He had a pen in hand and was writing on a notepad.

  “There’s no way the Sox are going to win tonight,” he said, and then laughed. “A box of Gummy Bears? Make it two and you have a bet…Okay, two it is. I’ll talk your mom into letting you stay up a little later…I love you too,” he said, before ending the call smiling.

  “Sorry about that, ma’am….My grandson,” he said, pointing to the phone, “Poor kid is a huge Sox’s fan. The Yanks better win tonight…May I help you?”

  Brooklyn returned the smile, “Yes; I’m looking for Detective Kai,” she said, as she read his name off the business card.

  “Your name, please?”

  “Brooklyn Pierce.”

  He gestured to a row of chairs, “Please, have a seat.”

  Brooklyn sat down across from a teenage boy wearing baggy jeans, a black beanie and a hockey jersey. The woman who accompanied him was dressed in a postal worker uniform. The teenager was texting on his phone when the woman forcefully snatched the phone away and shoved it in her pocketbook.

  “Sit up straight, Junior, and take that damn hat off!” she demanded.

  The boy quickly sat forward in his chair and slowly removed his hat and placed it in his lap.

  “Got me taking time off from work for this bullshit,” the woman angrily said, “Haven’t I told you to stay away from Jamal? I knew he was going to get you into trouble.”

  Brooklyn felt extremely uncomfortable, so she pulled out her phone to check her messages.

  “Miss Peirce…”

  Brooklyn looked up and detective Kai was standing in the doorway. He wore a white button down shirt and black dress pants. He had a gold shield clipped to his waistband. His smile was boyish and friendly. He extended his hand; Brooklyn shook it and said, “Good morning Detective.”

  “Good morning, Miss Peirce, I appreciate you coming in so early. How are your father and Miss Carmen?” he asked, as they walked down a narrow corridor.

  “My father is going to be released later today and Lydia is stable. Thanks for asking.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  A few officers walked past and said “Good morning.” Brooklyn caught a couple of the officers arching their brows and giving detective Kai thumbs up out of her peripheral vision. On their way to meet the sketch artist, she inconspicuously studied detective’s Kai’s profile and decided he was a very handsome man. His sun kissed skin was set off by a crop of dark hair and thick eyebrows. He had full lips the color of sweet ripe strawberries with a cupid’s bow. Detective Kai moved with a sense of confidence and grace that Brooklyn found very enticing and seductive. He exuded a natural sexual magnetism that made her feel drawn to him. They reached an office door and he knocked a few times. A man wearing a Van Halen T-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops opened the door. He had a goatee and an earring in each ear. He certainly didn’t look like he worked for the police, Brooklyn thought.

  “Spen, you’re up early.” Song held out his fist and bumped it against Spen's.

  “What’s up, Song? I got a call that we have a few witnesses coming in today who may have seen the shooter from the ballroom last night. I was kind of surprised about the shooting; I thought the governor was a cool guy and the majority of people loved him. But I guess in the end, he’s probably just another lying politician.”

  Song cleared his throat and a look of embarrassment crossed his face. “Yeah, about that; this is-“

  “Hello, I’m Brooklyn Peirce, the governor’s daughter. Trust me; he really is a cool guy.”

  An awkward silence made an already uncomfortable atmosphere even more intolerable.

  Spen blushed, “I’m sorry, Miss Peirce, I didn’t mean to imply that, I mean, I’m sure your dad is one of the good ones.”

  Brooklyn laughed. “It’s okay, I understand why there’s so much cynicism when it comes politics.”

  Spen grinned, “Yeah, I really am sorry.” He moved a large SpongeBob figurine off a chair and sat down behind a cluttered desk. “Please, have a seat.”

  Brooklyn sat down and Song pulled up a chair and sat beside her. Spen picked up a large sketch pad and grabbed a pencil from behind his ear.

  A lot of sketch artists like to use computers, but I prefer the old fashioned way. Let me know when you’re ready and we can begin.

/>   Brooklyn took a deep breath and said, “I’m ready.”

  “Before we begin, I’m going to ask you to close your eyes and think back to last night. Think about the perpetrator’s face: distinguishing features, a large nose, scars, gap teeth, anything…Okay, just relax.”

  Chapter 10

  Brooklyn closed her eyes and felt her stomach knotting up as anxiety crept in. She began. “He was a white male, maybe 5 feet10 inches tall, about 180 pounds. He was wearing a red baseball cap, plaid shirt and sunglasses. His face was oval shaped with no facial hair and a narrow nose. I didn’t see his teeth.”

  Spen listened and drew on the sketch pad. “Ms. Peirce, did he hold the gun in his left hand or right hand?”

  Brooklyn envisioned blood trickling down her father’s temple, and the scarlet pool forming beneath Lydia; then the outstretched hand pointing a gun. She heard a far away cry, a child was crying: “Mom, Mom!” Brooklyn was back in the hospital room when she was ten-years-old, calling for her mother to wake up. She trembled with fear as a river of tears flowed down her cheeks. She felt Song’s gentle touch before she heard his voice. He reached over and rubbed the top of her hand.

  “We can stop now if you like…It’s okay,” he whispered.

  “He held the gun in his left hand!” she shouted. Brooklyn opened her eyes and Spen continued to sketch.

  “Good,” Spen muttered.

  Sensing that Brooklyn was becoming emotionally drained, Song said, “Spen, we’re going to step out for a few minutes; would you like something?”

  “A few Butterfingers will do,” he said without looking up.

  ‘”You got it!”

  Song escorted Brooklyn out the door. The two of them walked to the break room in complete silence for a few minutes.

  “I’m sorry; I sort of fell apart in there.”

  “Hey, look, I understand. I think you were very helpful. Believe it or not, Spen can work magic.” Song chuckled. “He’s a very unique person; he’s also the best sketch artist and computer tech guy in the business.”

  He inserted a few dollars into the vending machine and retrieved two Butterfingers.

  Brooklyn managed a smile; “Spen has a very unorthodox way of doing things.”

  Song grinned. “He certainly does.” He poured a cup of coffee. “Would you like a drink?”

  “Coffee is fine, thanks.”

  Brooklyn and Song sat down at a small table. She stirred creamer and two packs of sugar into the coffee and then took a big sip.

  She almost gagged as the thick slush slid down her throat. It looked like crude oil and tasted similar she expected.

  Song noticed the expression on her face and said playfully, “This is the best it’s tasted in a while.”

  Brooklyn grinned and pushed the cup aside. “I’m sorry to hear that. So, how long have you been a detective?”

  ‘’I’ve been on the force for eight years. You said last night that you teach kindergarten; how long have you been a teacher?” Song asked.

  “I’ve been teaching for about six years now.”

  “I’ m sure it’s quite a rewarding job.”

  Brooklyn smiled thinking about the kids in her class. “It’s very rewarding and challenging too. I like to think I learn just as much from my students as they learn from me.”

  She’s stunning … Simply gorgeous, Song thought. Brooklyn wore a floral print sundress and Mary Jane pumps. The dress hit below the knee and showed off her well toned legs.

  “Detective Kai, do you think…You’ll catch the guy who tried to...“ Her voice trailed off.

  Before he could answer, his cell phone vibrated.

  Song looked at Brooklyn and politely said, “Excuse me,” and answered his phone. “Hey Spen…Okay cool! We’re on our way back.”

  Song reached over and placed his hand on top of Brooklyn’s; this time he let it linger a while longer.

  He held her gaze. “To answer your question, yes, I think we’re going to catch this guy; I hope sooner rather than later, but we’ll catch him.” His voice was determined and confident. “That was Spen, the sketch is ready. We should head back.”

  Brooklyn slowly nodded her head. She found Song’s touch comforting. She noticed that his dark brown eyes had flecks of gold which made them even more alluring.

  Spen was sitting on the edge of the desk holding his sketch pad, when Song and Brooklyn entered his office.

  “Now please let me know, if I need to change anything, we have a few more people coming in today and I just want to make sure I got your sketch right.”

  He turned the pad to face Brooklyn and she gasped.

  “That’s him! That’s him.” She shouted.

  Song noticed Brooklyn nervously shaking, as if she were reliving the shooting “Would you like to sit down?” Song asked.

  “No, I’m fine.” Brooklyn took a deep breath, “I’m fine.”

  “Well it looks like our work here is done. I can’t thank you enough for coming in today. By the way,” Spen said, “Your dad is one of the cool ones. I hope he and Miss Carmen will make a speedy recovery.”

  Brooklyn reached and shook Spen’s hand. “You’re welcome, and thank you too.”

  Song handed the candy bars to Spen.

  “Breakfast,” he said, excitedly, “Thanks, man.”

  Song laughed and shook his head.

  Mattice smiled and said, “Good morning, Miss Peirce,” as Song and Brooklyn were leaving the police station.

  “Good morning, detective.”

  Before going out the door, Brooklyn overheard Mattice say: “Now Junior, I don’t want to see you in here again. You got off easy this time. Mr. Thomas has agreed to let you put in a couple of hours at his shop to pay for the damaged window. Little man, you have to listen to your mama.”

  Song walked Brooklyn down the stairs of the police station while a security guard stood by the door of her Town Car patiently waiting. The air was thick and humid. Beams of the early morning sunlight pushed through the wispy clouds. When they reached the bottom step Brooklyn turned and faced Song.

  “Miss Peirce, thanks again for coming in, I realize this wasn’t easy for you. Here’s my card; if you think of anything or if you need to talk, just call me, my cell number is on there too.”

  “You’re welcome, detective. The coffee alone made the trip worthwhile.”

  They exchanged smiles as she entered the limo. The windows were tinted, but he held up his hand and waved, as the car pulled into traffic.

  Chapter 11

  Song and Mattice were standing in Lieutenant Irene Phillips’ office filling her in on their investigation thus far. Irene in her late 50’s, was a former marine and the mother of five. Being female and African American, she had faced her share of discrimination. Due to her perseverance and hard work, her squad had come to respect and admire her. They closed more cases than any other precinct in the city.

  She popped a piece of Nicorette gum in her mouth while reading over Song’s report. “You need to talk to the governor, his aide and Miss Carmen as soon as possible. You should also know that the feds have launched their own investigation, so whatever information we gather, we’ll be it sharing with them. They have established a multi-jurisdiction task force.”

  Mattice sneered. “Shit! We’ll do all the work and in the end they’ll get all the credit!”

  “I don’t give a shit who gets the credit, just catch this asshole!’ Lieutenant Phillips said.

  “We’re making progress and have a few more witnesses coming in today,” Song informed Lieutenant Phillips.

  “Good! We’ll be holding a press conference later this evening; I expect both of you to look presentable. Go home, get some rest and then hit the pavement.“

  “You got it,” Mattice said.

  Chapter 12

  Brooklyn was attending the weekly staff meeting at the Coretta Scott King elementary school. At the conclusion, the principal, Alice Harewood, said, “Before we go about our day, I would like to tell
Miss Peirce that our thoughts and prayers are with her and her family.”

  Brooklyn thanked everyone. As the staff filed out of the auditorium, Brooklyn’s friend, Lonette Mitchell, called to her.

  Lonette was petite and full-figured, dressing exclusively in animal prints. Today she wore a leopard print jumpsuit with matching wedges. Lonette often referred to herself as “fun-size.”

  “Girl, I’m so sorry to hear about your father and Lydia,” Lonette said, giving Brooklyn a big hug.

  “Thanks Lonette, he’s coming home today and Lydia’s condition has stabilized.”

  “Thank God!”

  “I’m going over to my dad’s when I get out of work today. How did your date go last night?” Brooklyn asked, suggestively wiggling her eyebrows.

  “Girl, I thought you’d never ask; can you believe we went-”

  “Excuse me, Brooklyn,” her coworker Harold Donovan said, “I just wanted to let you know I was shocked to hear about the shooting.” He pulled out a hanky and blew his nose. “I’m sorry, it’s allergy season.”

  Harold was average height and medium build with a paunch above his belt. He was the music teacher at the school for the last ten years. Most of the staff thought of him as eccentric and odd, and never wanted to invite him to social gatherings. Brooklyn however went out of her way to include him.

  “Thanks for your concern, Harold; that’s very kind of you.”

  He handed Brooklyn a brown paper bag, “I got you a blueberry bagel with banana cream cheese on the side; just the way you like it.”

  “You are so sweet, thanks!” Brooklyn tapped him on the shoulder and his cheeks turned a bright red.

  “I better, umm... I better get to my classroom. If you’d like to talk, I’m…I’m right down the hall,” Harold said, bashfully.