Baltimore Chronicles (8 page)

“I don't know. I heard a noise…I think I came down…I don't remember,” Derek said groggily. He was dazed and confused. The mixture of Hennessy and the hit he took on the head when he fell wasn't helping.

“What the fuck you mean, you don't know? Archie is fuckin' gutted open like a pig, hanging from a utility pole in front of my house! Blood is all over your fucking car and your hands! What the fuck is going on?” Rodriguez screamed, demanding an answer from Derek.

“Whoa, whoa. Take it easy,” an EMT said, stepping between Derek and Rodriguez. Derek just stared ahead. He was numb and in shock. He didn't have the answers that she was looking for—or at least he wasn't going to tell her. He was not the man she thought him to be.

“If you don't start giving me some answers and start trusting me, I want you to get your shit out of my fuckin' house! Obviously you're bad luck, Derek. Either that or you're a murderer, since the bodies keep piling up around you,” Rodriguez said to Derek, then turned and stormed away with tears clouding her eyes.

Chief Hill approached Derek just as Rodriguez breezed by him. “Fuller, we need a statement from you, since you were on the scene when the body was discovered,” Chief Hill said.

“I already said I can't fuckin' remember what happened! I had a few drinks, and I must've heard something. I don't know why I came outside, and I don't know what happened after I was out here, okay! I know Archie is fuckin' dead, but I don't know what the fuck happened!” Derek yelled, the vein in his head visible at his temple.

He was tired of everyone being up in his face, blaming him for shit. Maybe he had made the mistake of getting into some shit with his brother, but he definitely didn't have his own men killed.

“I don't know what type of shit you're into, Fuller, but you better get your shit together. I will not have another fuckin' casualty or a fuckin' war that you started over a bitch. And I better not find out you're a dirty fuckin' cop,” Chief Hill said, pointing an accusatory finger in Derek's face.

His words hit Derek like a sledgehammer.
What does this mu'fucka know?
Derek asked himself. It seemed like the chief knew a lot.

“Hey, Chief! You need to see this,” one of the forensic crime scene investigators called out to Chief Hill.

“Remember what the fuck I said, Fuller. Your chances have run the fuck out,” Chief Hill said in a harsh whisper and disappeared.

Derek closed his eyes and lay back down on the gurney. He was wishing he was any one of his dead coworkers.

“Chief, look at this,” the crime scene investigator said, showing the chief a rubber-banded stack of money sticking out of Archie's pants pocket. The money was covered in blood, so it made it almost impossible to see the denomination of the bills. The investigators took several pictures before removing the wad of money to place in the evidence collection bags.

“How much is it?” the chief asked as he watched. The investigator flipped through the bills quickly, careful not to contaminate the blood and DNA evidence. “Looks like it's about ten thousand or more,” the investigator said.

“Why would an officer who is not even at top pay be carrying around that type of fucking money?” the chief asked quizzically. “Shit just doesn't make sense. Why hang the body here?” he murmured to himself.

“We got his cell phone!” another investigator called out as they scoured the street in front of the house. Chief Hill rushed over to where she had found the phone lying wedged into the sewer grate under Derek's car.

“Did it get wet?” the chief asked.

“Aside from a little bit of blood, I think we still got a good working phone,” the investigator said.

“Turn it on,” the chief demanded.

“Chief, I don't know if you want to disturb the evidence. It may cause us to lose something,” she explained.

“No! Turn it on!” Chief Hill screamed.

She did as she was told. The chief snatched the phone from her hand and pressed the dial button to redial the last number called. The chief held the phone with a plastic glove over his hand and listened. It was ringing. Chief Hill was hoping that someone answered.

Just as he said that, Derek came limping over. “Hey, Grady, what ya got?” Derek asked the investigator that had found the money.

“Somebody worked him over really good before they gutted him like a Christmas pig,” the investigator explained.

Derek shook his head in remorse. His phone began ringing. Derek fumbled with his pocket to get his phone out. He looked down at the screen.
ARCHIE
, it read. Derek crinkled his face and looked around.

He locked eyes with Chief Hill, who was walking in his direction, holding Archie's phone. Derek had a look of sheer terror on his face.

“Fuller, don't fucking move!” Chief Hill screamed as he handed Archie's phone back to the investigator.

Derek was dumbfounded. He had not remembered receiving any calls from Archie last night. Why would Archie be calling him?

“Can you fucking explain to me why Officer Archie had ten thousand dollars of what appeared to be drug money in his fucking pocket, called you last, and ended up dead, strung up to a pole in front of the house you reside in?” Chief Hill asked accusingly.

“Wait one fucking minute. I don't know what you are insinuating, but you better back the fuck up. I've taken a lot of shit off of you in the past couple of weeks, but accusing me of having something to do with the death of one of my men is the last straw!” Derek barked.

“We'll see about that. As soon as the lab comes back with something, I will be seeing you. Until then, stay the fuck out of my way!” Chief Hill spat, leaving Derek with something to think about.

Tiphani had been a nervous wreck with everything that was going on between her and Derek and Scar. She often felt torn between what was right, saving her marriage, and her love of Scar's dick. Now things were falling apart for Derek and definitely out of her control.

She had agreed to help Scar take her husband down because she was selfishly thinking about her career and how it would look if she lost custody of her children. Tiphani was at a real crossroads. She had just as much to lose as Derek. Taking her husband down might save her career and let her keep her kids, or it might cause him to open up a can of worms that would make her lose everything, including her freedom.

Right now she was having a hard time seeing a way out of this mess. She had backed herself into a corner, and the only thing she could do now was to put all her trust in Scar and hope he knew what he was doing. Losing her kids, her career, and her freedom were definitely not an option.

With her mind heavy, Tiphani stepped onto the elevator inside the state courthouse building, where she worked in the district attorney's office. Being an assistant district attorney had been one of her life's dreams. As a child, she wanted to become a prosecutor so she could rid the world of all of the men who committed domestic violence and sexual molestation of children—men like her father.

Tiphani had grown up in a home filled with violence and pain. Her father was a serious alcoholic who often beat her mother, sometimes so severely she would be unable to walk or to see out of her eyes. Tiphani would watch helplessly, making promises to herself that the next time he did it, she would kill him and save her mother. Each time the beatings happened, however, Tiphani became paralyzed with fear, unable to do anything except run and hide to stay out of the path of her raging father.

When she would try to talk to her mother about it, her mother would make excuses for her husband and tell Tiphani that it was done because he loved her so much. Tiphani would say she wanted to kill him, and her mother would slap her for saying it and tell her to go to her room.

When Tiphani was fourteen, her father's abuse had finally taken its toll on her mother, and she suffered a brain aneurism and died instantly. Tiphani remembered thinking that although she would miss her mother, she was relieved that the poor woman would never experience pain at the hands of her demonic father again.

After her mother's death, Tiphani became like her father's wife instead of his daughter. She had to cook, clean, and basically take care of him like a woman would. Tiphani suffered in silence, constantly dreaming of the day she would leave home. The thoughts of killing her father were always there, but had been pushed to the back of her mind. Instead, Tiphani replaced those thoughts of murder with thoughts of revenge through her own success. She was determined to become a prosecutor and find a way to put her father behind bars legally. It was going to be her father behind bars for abuse, and not Tiphani behind bars for murder.

She struggled to stay on top of everything through high school and college, fighting to stay awake during class because she was so tired from all of the work she had to do at home. Due to the lack of love and affection at home, Tiphani was constantly seeking love from men. She would do almost anything to get the love she wasn't receiving at home.

Over time, she came to equate sex with love. So, in order to fill that void in her heart, she would sleep with any man that showed interest in her. Tiphani couldn't stop searching for that love, and sex was her addiction. If a man made her cum, she thought he loved her. Sex made her feel wanted and needed.

After Tiphani graduated from law school, her father died from cirrhosis of the liver, and, of course, left her nothing but his debt. Unable to keep the promise to herself to see her father behind bars, Tiphani found herself struggling to make ends meet with her entry law clerk salary. It could have crushed most women, but Tiphani was not going to let her father win, especially not from beyond the grave.

Determined to move up, make something of herself, and leave her abusive past behind, Tiphani became the most driven budding attorney in Baltimore County. She would work extra hard, even when some of the white attorneys got over on her and took credit for her work. But Tiphani believed that cream always rose to the top, and that the people in charge would know and see that she was the one doing the best work.

Soon, the bosses did notice, and she began to make a name for herself and was asked to join the ranks of the district attorney's office.

When Tiphani met Derek, they had a lot in common. He was working hard to get to the top within the Maryland State Police, and he understood her need to overcome her past. Tiphani fell in love with Derek's charm. She thought he would make a great provider and family man.

The first time they had sex, she chalked up his misgivings to nerves, but she learned quickly that he couldn't meet her needs. Tiphani came up with a plan for herself. If Derek couldn't meet her needs, she would just make sure her needs were being met without Derek knowing. She was going to get some on the side.
Fuck it
, she thought.
Men do this shit all the time. Why can't I?

There were some nights while they were dating when, after having their two-minute sex, Tiphani would put on her clothes, tell Derek she was going home, and go directly to a bar and pick up the biggest, sexiest guy there and fuck him in the parking lot.

After briefly dating, Derek proposed to Tiphani. She knew his sex was mediocre at best, but decided that she could try to look past it in order to have a good, trustworthy man who would take care of her. She would settle down and start a family and be a one-man woman.

Not even a year into their marriage, she was frustrated with their sex life and started to search for more dick to satisfy her needs. Tiphani did try to distract herself from her cravings for dick. She immersed herself into her work and continued her rise to the top of the ranks amongst her fellow prosecutors.

Her hard work caught the eye of the district attorney, and she began to get all of the high profile cases, even the ones her husband had worked. That was how much her bosses trusted her and her abilities.

As much as Tiphani needed sex, she never brought that part of her life into the workplace. That part of her life was for outside the office on her own time, without the prying eyes of her coworkers.

Snapping out of her reverie, Tiphani rushed out of the elevator, down the long corridor to her office. She could swear people were whispering and mumbling as she passed them, but she thought she was being paranoid. Finally reaching her office, she fished around in her pocketbook for her keys. She had her head down, and suddenly, the door swung open.

“Come on in, Mrs. Fuller,” a man's voice boomed.

Tiphani was startled. She slowly walked into her office, and her jaw almost dropped to the floor.

“Good morning. You don't look so happy to see me,” he said with a sinister grin on his face.

Caught off guard, Tiphani swallowed hard, trying to find her words. The fucking mayor of the city was in her office, waiting for her to come in. What part of the game was that?

Why the fuck is he in my office? What does he know
? These were the first things that came to Tiphani's mind. She shuddered, a chill running down her spine.

“Ahem.” She cleared her throat, trying to compose herself “It is…I mean…it is not every day the average Joe like me walks into her office and finds the mayor of Baltimore sitting behind her desk,” Tiphani stammered, her words feeling like marbles stuck in her throat. A hot feeling rose from her chest, up her neck, and flashed on her face. She looked around, unable to move or speak. Tiphani was very familiar with the mayor, but having him right there, right now, was not what she was expecting.

Tiphani was surrounded. Mayor Mathias Steele, a slick-talking Southerner who would probably throw his mother from a train to keep his job, was in her office, along with her boss, District Attorney Anthony Gill, another self-serving character driven by a name and the possibility of fame. Tiphani felt like she'd walked into a bear trap, or like she was being ambushed by AK-47s and all she had was a butter knife to defend herself. Her body broke out in a cold sweat, with fine beads lining up at her hairline, threatening to take a dip down her face at any minute.

What the fuck do they want? How much do they know?
The questions kept running through her muddled mind.

“Sit down, Mrs. Fuller. We need to speak with you about a serious matter that cannot wait,” Mayor Steele said, leaning forward and folding his hands together on Tiphani's desk like it belonged to him.

Stay calm, stay calm,
Tiphani kept telling herself.
They can't tie you to any of this shit storm.

Tiphani looked at the mayor and immediately pictured him naked, and it wasn't because she was trying to calm herself down. She quickly closed her eyes to get the image to go away. When she opened them back up, Anthony Gill shot her an evil look. Tiphani knew he was probably really shitting bricks inside. Her boss hated to think he or any of his staff were in trouble or had brought negative attention to his office; but a personal visit from the mayor was a sure way to know that somebody's ass was in hot water.

Tiphani sat on the small black leather couch situated directly across from her desk. It was the same couch she usually had victims sit on to give her their story; or sometimes, defense attorneys sat there to convince her to plead their clients' cases out.

When she sat down, the leather on the couch made a noise, causing an ominous feeling to overwhelm her. Tiphani looked over the mayor's head at the wall where a large framed picture of her, Derek, and the kids hung. She swallowed the golf ball–sized lump in her throat and tried to be cool.

“Mrs. Fuller, I'm here because, as you may already know, your husband and his cohorts at the State Police Division One are being investigated. It has come to my attention that it seems Mr. Fuller is the ringleader of a group of dirty cops. We are finding out that he is into some high profile criminal activity. I'm not talking stealing evidence money from drug dealers or planting evidence, either. This is serious shit, Mrs. Fuller…serious, serious shit,” Mayor Steele said, looking at her to gauge her reaction.

Tiphani stayed calm, although her heart thundered against her chest bone almost painfully. It was pounding so hard, Tiphani was surprised that no one in the room could hear it. Mayor Steele looked at her seriously. He wasn't there to undress her with his eyes like he usually did. Thoughts of the sexual trysts they used to have when she was trying to vie for her position didn't even come into his mind. He was there strictly for business.

“Tiphani, I understand that you may have some information to help the state's case against your husband. Is that true?” Mayor Steele asked, throwing one of those fishing questions at Tiphani to see if she'd bite.

She knew this game all too well, and was not about to take the bait. She looked into his hazy gray eyes and at his newly receding hairline. Biting down into her jaw, Tiphani prepared herself for the performance she was about to give.

“I have no idea what you're speaking about. As far as I was concerned, up until just a day or so ago when I heard about Officer Archie's death and that Derek may somehow be involved, I thought of my husband as a fine, upstanding citizen and a damned good police officer,” Tiphani said, folding her arms across her chest. She knew she had to play the role of surprised or offended, because she was not about to tell the mayor and the fucking district attorney that she knew her husband was a dirty-ass cop and that the biggest drug kingpin in Baltimore County was his brother.

“Mrs. Fuller, I'm here to let you know that if you had even an inkling of what your husband was into, you'd better start talking and cooperating here and now. It won't benefit you one bit if we find out on our own,” Mayor Steele emphasized, clicking his teeth. It was a habit he had that Tiphani now remembered she hated when they used to fuck.

“With all due respect, Mayor, you know me and you know my work in the past. I am a law abiding citizen, and I took an oath to uphold the law when I became a prosecutor. I did not know anything about Derek's dealings. In fact, I'm just as surprised by your presence here as you are by my obliviousness to his activities,” she said coldly. Tiphani had put her game face on, and when she did that, she could be just as shrewd as any high-level government official.

Anthony Gill cleared his throat. “Tiphani, just so you are aware, the mayor and I have discussed this issue ad nauseum, and we have decided that we are going to bring any and all charges against your husband that will stick in a court of law. He will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. We are not showing him any mercy. What he did was despicable. Like you and me, he also took an oath to uphold the law, and because of his selfish and disgusting ways, three police officers and a fucking police chief are dead!” Anthony boomed, his voice picking up bass as he spoke.

Tiphani did not flinch. She kept a stony poker face and tried to stand her ground. All kinds of feelings were ripping through her. Tiphani was confused, torn between the reality of her failing marriage, which was her fault, and a potentially deadly deal she had entered into with Scar Johnson—and now this potential maelstrom was brewing.

The room seemed to be spinning around her. Tiphani felt hot, and her stomach muscles began to clench.
Do I lie and risk them finding out? Or do I tell the truth and have them lock me the fuck up right here and now?
She opted to stand behind her lie that she knew nothing about Derek's dealings with Scar.

Tiphani thought about Derek and about some of the underhanded things he had done in the name of loving and protecting his brother. She thought of how hard Derek had worked to make their marriage a success, and she immediately felt a pang of guilt. But there was no turning back now. She knew that the shit Scar had planted around to make Derek look guilty was surely going to put Derek behind bars for life. It was time for her to look out for number one. She couldn't afford to feel sorry for the man who was trying to take her kids and her life away from her.