Justice Served: A Barkley and Parker Thriller (21 page)

Ray licked his lips, feeling on the spot.
“Hey,” he responded jovially, “I might be game. Of course, I’d want
to practice the process a whole lot first—so we can make sure we’ve
got it down pat.”

Carole chuckled. “Come here, baby,” she
murmured, reaching for his mouth with hers. “Practice does indeed
make perfect.”

Ray lingered in tasting her lips. “Oh, you
think so?” he teased.

“Why don’t we just find out?”

“Why don’t we?”

They made love again, taking it slow;
discovering all there was to learn about each other’s body and
erogenous zones, and then some.

When Ray left, there was no more talk about
family and children. There would be more time for that later, he
hoped, when the time and circumstances were right.

For now, there were more immediate things to
occupy his attention. Like a relationship that was beginning to
grow on him like ivy.

And a vicious killer run amok.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Esther Reynolds made sure she wasn’t being
followed, doubling back around three blocks before she went to the
secret place. As expected, she was there waiting for her.

“You’re late!” the woman said
impatiently.

“Had to be careful,” Esther told her. “The
streets are crawling with cops. Any one of them would love to get
their hands on you.”

“Over my dead body, honey,” she growled.

“Well, my dear,” Esther spoke uneasily, “it
may well come to that. You’re scaring everyone half to death.
Chances are if the police find you, they’ll shoot first and ask
questions later.”

The woman, who was standing with an
intimidating posture, glared at Esther. “Let them try. I’m only
doing what I was meant to do—for me, for you, and all the others
like us. Those bastards can’t be allowed to ruin our lives
anymore.”

“I agree.” Esther felt herself perspiring.
“But there has to be a time when enough is enough. I think that
time is now.”

The woman walked up to Esther, her breathing
quickened, and stated emphatically: “I’ll decide when enough is
enough—you hear me? I’ve come too damned far to stop now. There’s
still work to do. Scores to settle, once and for all.”

Esther edged back a step or two. “But, don’t
you see, you’re jeopardizing our entire operation. The shelter
could be shut down and then where will those women go who need a
safe place? They could be turned away from other overcrowded
shelters and end up back with men who will abuse them, and worse.”
She took a ragged breath. “The price is just too high to continue
to support your actions.”

The woman grabbed one of Esther’s wrists with
such force that she winced in pain.

“You listen to me, bitch! If I go down,
you’ll go down with me. And everyone else who supported this thing,
but ran scared when the going got tough.”

“But the police are—” Esther quavered as she
tried to speak. She was cut off.

“Don’t let those dumb-assed cops intimidate
you,” the woman screeched. “They have nothing to go on other than
the dead bastards who deserved the ass whippings they got. By the
time I was through with them, they were damned glad death had come.
If this has opened some eyes, then so be it. Isn’t that the
point—letting those sons of bitches and all who support them know
we won’t tolerate the beatings anymore? It’s them or us. They’re
the ones who are on the defensive now. We can’t go back to the way
it was. I won’t do it
. And neither will you
!” She released
her iron grip on Esther’s wrist.

Esther bit her lip to fight back the searing
pain. “But they have a list of names,” she stammered. “Your name’s
on it. It’s only a matter of time before the police question
you—”

“Maybe they already have,” the woman said
with wry amusement. “Do you think I can’t handle myself when
confronted with assholes who would try and lock me up in some
damned prison? Or a nut house?”

“I-I didn’t say that.” Esther tried not to
look at the rage in the woman’s features, though she felt it
throughout the room, as if on fire.

“You didn’t have to. I can see it in your
pathetic face and hear it in your whiny voice.” The woman sucked in
a deep breath, then forced a smile on her lips. “Don’t worry about
me, girl. I think I know a little bit about the legal system and
how to deal with nosey, think-they-know-it-all police detective
assholes. I’m not about to make it easy for them to put an end to
the only justice some of us have ever known. All I need to know is
if you can be counted on to keep your big mouth shut. Or are you
willing to jeopardize everything so women like us have to crawl
back into holes to try and escape the abuse through drugs, alcohol,
self-abuse, suicide, and desperate prayers that never seem to be
answered?”

Esther thought about it. She was caught
between a rock and a hard place. To betray her would, in effect, be
betraying herself and millions of other women who were not being
adequately served by the justice system.

But to look the other way would be to reject
her sense of decency and responsibility in taking the law into
one’s own hands. The killings, no matter how justified, simply
could not continue.

Yet what choice did she have? To hang the one
doing this—no matter how off the deep end she had gone—would for
all intents and purposes be hanging herself as well. Along with
countless other women whose fates and fortunes may have rested on
the fear and intimidation their batterers were feeling these days
at the prospect they might actually be hit back—only with deadly
consequences.

“Well...?” the woman demanded coldly. “Are
you with me or against me?”

Esther gulped. When all was said and done,
she knew there was no turning back. Things had simply gone too far
to retreat, even if she wanted to.

“I-I won’t do anything to stand in your way,”
she stammered.

The woman smiled humorlessly, her eyes
betraying the ire and betrayal that motivated her actions. “That’s
good to hear. We wouldn’t want our persecutors to think it was open
season again on all women, would we?”

Esther had no response, deciding to leave
well enough alone.

The two went their separate ways from there
after agreeing the safe house might not be so safe anymore. A new
place would have to be established for future meetings.

As she drove away, the woman wondered just
how many more meetings there would be. She sensed Esther was
becoming a weak link in the chain of justice to be served. But she
also knew there was little chance Esther would mess things up for
her. It would only endanger more women in the long run, something
she doubted the shelter director wanted on her fragile
conscience.

In the meantime, she knew what had to be done
and was more than willing to carry it out as she had before.

Again and again.

She believed that no matter what happened to
her, there would always be someone to take her place in the battle
to regain control over their lives from those who tried to dominate
them with their fists. The genie was out of the proverbial bottle
and could never be put back in.

The bastards had to pay for their sins one
way or the other. And she was going to collect in full force!

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Nina was troubled by the connection between
the courtroom and the shelter with regard to their vigilante. In
her eyes, there was only one real common denominator: Judge Carole
Cranston.

But did that mean a serial killer lurked
beneath the judge’s robe? Was she a madwoman away from the bench? A
lady totally out of control?

Or had her objectivity been somehow
compromised? Nina mused uneasily while sitting at her desk. It
didn’t take a rocket scientist, or even a kick-ass, damned good
detective, to realize that Barkley was sleeping with the judge. Or
doing a hell of a lot more in bed than resting. She could see it in
his eyes, his body language, and his disposition. Hell, she could
even smell sex on the man.

But what was it to her what he did when he
was off duty and who he did it with? Nina took a swig of her coffee
that had turned cold and grimaced.

Was she actually jealous of Carole Cranston,
who seemed to have so much going for her? Or was she just envious
of Ray seemingly happy when her personal life was in shambles?

Nina decided it was neither.
I can deal
with Ray having a life, even if I’m still trying to find one.
She was a detective first and foremost and took her job very
seriously. This was no different. She had come too far to go back
to shuffling papers at a corner desk while she watched others move
up the ranks ahead of her all because they had blown this case.
That was the
only
reason why she had decided to go behind
Barkley’s back on this one. She was convinced she was onto
something. Or someone.

But what?

Or who?

She enlisted the aid of a former cop turned
private investigator to do a background check on Carole Cranston,
with an emphasis on
anything
in her history that was
unusual, such as domestic violence or any other violent activity.
He’d left a message for her at the office to call him back, keeping
it as innocuous as possible.

Nina had resisted running an official check
on Carole Cranston, not wanting to make waves. If she was going to
accuse a prominent criminal court judge of murdering five men, she
knew she had to have a hell of a lot more to back her up than a bad
feeling or concerns that her partner and ex-lover was doing the
nasty with the judge.

Nina phoned the private eye that afternoon.
Nelson Ross had been with the Police Bureau for fifteen years
before retiring due to a bad back, bad attitude, and lack of
motivation. Private snooping had given him a second career and a
lot more time to engage in his favorite pastimes—women and fishing.
Not necessarily in that order.

“Ross Investigations,” the deep voice said
routinely.

“Hey, it’s Nina.”

“So you got my message.”

“Loud and clear,” she quipped.

“Got something for you,” he said ambiguously.
“How about you buy me lunch, and I’ll tell you all about it?”

She had already eaten and knew he had a
voracious appetite, but said with some misgivings: “This had better
be good.”

He chuckled. “Oh, I think it’s enough to whet
the appetite, baby.”

Nina agreed to meet him at three. She took
the afternoon off, claiming she wasn’t feeling well. Even poor Ray
had seemed overly concerned about her, making Nina feel even
guiltier for pursuing this. But she could not ignore the fact that
there were five people dead and one killer very much alive.

And his girlfriend, for better or worse, was
her prime suspect.

* * *

Johnnie & Aljean’s Taste of Soul was one
of the best restaurants to get genuine southern soul food in the
city.

Nina walked in and immediately saw the man
she was looking for. Nelson Ross waved both hands at her from a
table, as if he was doing jumping jacks. By the time she had glided
through the tables, he was standing—all six feet, six solid inches
of him.

“Hey, girl,” he said, grinning from ear to
ear.

“What’s up, Nelson?” she responded, a tiny
smile playing on her lips.

Along with being tall, Nelson Ross was a mass
of muscles and biceps wearing a brown sport coat, light green
shirt, black trousers, and loafers. He had a milk chocolate
complexion, was bald, and had bulging brown eyes. A tiny diamond
ring was almost molded into one ear.

Nina had dated him briefly when she was a
rookie. Nothing came out of it, but a few laughs, a few tears, and
a lasting friendship. Along with an occasional favor both ways.

They sat.

“Caught the biggest bass you ever saw,”
Nelson bragged, spreading his massive arms in opposite directions,
revealing an impressive wingspan.

“Hope
she
didn’t bite,” Nina couldn’t
resist saying.

Nelson grinned. “Still got that quick wit
about you, baby.” He chuckled. “What is it they say about the bark
being worse than the bite?”

“Touché,” she tossed back at him.

“You want something to drink?” he asked. He
already had a pitcher of beer on the table that was half empty.

“Just coffee,” Nina said, resisting the
temptation for more. She considered this an official meeting.

Nelson nodded. “That’s cool.” He waved over a
cute waitress with long, groomed locks and a tight ass. She filled
Nina’s cup and left menus.

Nelson peered across the table. “So they’ve
got you tied up in knots at the Bureau with this vigilante thing,
huh?”

“Let’s just say it’s been damned
frustrating,” Nina muttered.

“Yeah, I can imagine. It’s definitely got me
on my best behavior with women.” He cracked a slightly amused
smile.

Nina sneered at him. “Maybe that’s a good
thing, Nelson. You know we’ve never taken any crap from men. And
now someone wants to make sure you’re reminded that if you get out
of line, there’s a heavy price to pay.”

“I heard that,” he moaned, drinking beer.
“Problem is the price seems way too high these days.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” She tasted the
coffee thoughtfully. “So what have you got for me?”

Nelson licked his lips. “Well, I found out
some real interesting things about the judge—”

“Such as...?” Nina could feel her stomach
churning with anticipation.

He opened a folder on the table. “Looks like
Judge Carole Cranston’s had a helluva tough go of it when it comes
to domestic violence. At seven, she witnessed her old man beat her
mother to death with his fists. After that she spent a few years in
and out of mental hospitals trying to deal with it. The lady seemed
well on her way to recovery—”

He put the mug to his mouth and Nina waited
with interest and contemplation.