“Dadeeeee. Telephone!”
Dominic paused for a moment. Who could be calling at this hour? “I got it, Dawson. Hang up.”
A female vixen’s voice came through the earpiece. “I need to see you.”
Once Dominic recognized the voice, he whispered, terrified, “You know damn well that isn’t possible! How the hell did you get
this number?”
“I’ll tell you when I see you. Meet me at our spot in one hour.”
“An hour? Now I know you have lost your mind, Tera. You will be waiting forever, because I’m not seeing you tonight.”
“You sure are Mr. ‘Dick-me-down Jones’.”
“Look, I told you I can’t. We’re in the middle of dinner.”
“I don’t really care. One hour, Dominic.”
Donna yelled from the living room, “Dominic, we are having dinner. Who are you talking to…?”
* * * * * *
Dominic raced back home before Donna realized it was after one a.m. He couldn’t believe how the tables had turned against
him. He use to get so much pleasure from being able to sleep with Tera, then play his role as the perfect husband. It never
dawned on him that his unfaithful ways would finally catch up to him. That one day, he would lose control and suffer the
consequences. He tried to break it off with Tera, but she wouldn’t let go. She wouldn’t accept it. She knew her place was as
his girlfriend and nothing more. Guess the loving I gave was too good. I didn’t want things to have to come to this, but what
else was I suppose to do? Under no circumstances was he willing to leave his family for any woman. He considered telling
Donna, but that would just add fuel to the already ignited flame. Dominic was left with the only solution to his problem, Tera
had to go.
Chapter 1
Sunday afternoon was breezy and sunny with a temperature of 72 degrees. The summer heat had disappeared, and the
first day of fall was in two days. Police sirens, an ambulance and a coroner van parked outside Brookline Side
Condominiums interrupted the quiet morning. Nosy and concerned neighbors flocked outside their condos to find out what
brought the Brookline police to their homes. They soon would discover that it was the last murder of summer and the first for
the fall. And one now narrowed their complex of sixty-nine occupants.
“Check the caller ID and last calls the victim made from here. I want to know who she last spoke to,” Detective Mark Anderton
said. This was his first big murder case since he was promoted to lead detective.
After examining the crime scene, Mark’s investigative mind began to go to work. He recorded his comments using a taping
device. “African-American Woman, age range 21-28, about 5-feet 7-inches, 135 pounds, found with a gunshot wound to her
frontal lobe. Bullet appears to be from a 38 caliber or similar. No signs of forced entry or burglary. However, there are signs
of a struggle. Shattered particles of glass cover the living room floor and the coffee table has been knocked over.
Victim appears to have fought the assailant off. Rule out suicide. Does not appear victim shot herself, due to extent of the
injury. Also to note, victim struck with some type of blunt object to the back of the head. Probable cause of death was a
gunshot wound however.
Victim was wearing a pink negligee. Candles appear recently lit and CD player’s power still is on. A bottle of champagne,
whipped cream and chocolate-covered strawberries were found in the victim’s refrigerator. This indicates that the victim was
expecting company and leads to the conclusion that her guest may or may not have arrived. The victim was found lying
supine in her living room, no weapon or weapons discovered. Not sure of the time of death at this time. A neighbor called
the police after hearing a gunshot around 2:15 a.m. Making the approximate time of death between 2:00 and 2:10 a.m.,
according to the condition of the body and the neighbor’s phone call. Scene indicates victim either knew the assailant or was
caught off guard.
Hey Johnson, did you get the last incoming and outgoing calls yet? Also do we have a name and next of kin for the victim
yet?”
“We’re working on identifying the listed names for the last outgoing calls. The victim’s name is Tera Larou. No next of kin as
of yet. You should come take a look at this. We found the victim’s electronic address book and I must say she is quite the
busy girl. I mean, was.” Officer Johnson shouted from the bedroom.
“Johnson, don’t disrespect the dead. Bring me the address book and leave your comments at home.” Detective Anderton
had little tolerance for his co-worker’s theatrics.
Officer Johnson entered the living room. “See for yourself. She doesn’t have names listed with the phone numbers. Instead
they are listed as suitors.”
“How many suitors are there?”
“Two hundred and fifty four.”
“Two hundred and fifty four! Are you kidding me, no names?”
“Nope. Just suitors one through two hundred and fifty four.”
“How the hell can she keep the names straight? Maybe Ms. Larou didn’t want anyone to know who she was seeing.” Such a
beautiful woman, too. What were you into? Two hundred and fifty four? I don’t think I have been with fifty-four women, let
alone two hundred and fifty four.
“Alright Johnson, get me the names from the phone numbers of all two hundred and fifty four, especially the last five. And
find out if she owns this condo, where she works, if she pays her own bills, the name her car is in, etc. I want to know
everything about this woman. Do we have the names for those calls yet?” Detective Anderton was growing inpatient.
“I’ll check with Riley.” Johnson disappeared back into Tera’s bedroom.
Detective Anderton was left alone with his thoughts. What could she have done to these men to make someone want her
dead?
Officer Johnson returned with Mark’s requested information. “The last incoming call was from a woman named Shaniece
Turner and the last outgoing call was made to Dominic Jones.
“Check the last outgoing call number to see if it matches any of the numbers in her address book.”
“Already ahead of you, it doesn’t. But, the last suitor’s number is a cell phone number, 617-555-8211. And guess what?”
“Johnson.”
“Lighten up. I just had Riley check it and the number belongs to Jones Consultants.”
Detective Anderton looked confused.
“You don’t know who Dominic Jones is do you?”
“Should I?”
“You should. He’s one of the wealthiest Black men in this city. Dominic Jones, of Jones Consultants.”
Detective Anderton ignored his blatant insinuation. “I don’t care if he is the wealthiest man in the world; he’s a suspect; as
well as all those other two hundred and fifty three suitors in Ms. Larou’s book. Get me an address for Mr. Jones, I have a few
questions for him.”
“I think you better check with the chief first.”
“Why?”
“Because not only is Mr. Jones wealthy, he sponsors Mayor Menning’s campaigns. The guy is loaded, and from what I
understand, protected. You get what I’m saying? Almost untouchable.”
“I guess I am about to reach out and touch Mr. Untouchable. I have a murder case to solve, nothing or no one is more
important than that.”
“I hear you. But be careful and extra clean on this one. The man is not to be messed with.”
Detective Anderton smirked. “Apparently, he’s got you under his wing. Save it Johnson, get me the address.”
“Fine. You’re the lead detective. You know what you’re doing.”
“That I am Johnson, and that I do.”
