Brooklyn's Song (3 page)

Chapter 7

After getting an update from Mattice regarding the interviews that he conducted with security, Song was sitting at a table in a small conference room reading over Mattice’s notes. He looked up when he heard a knock on the glass pane of the door.

“Detective, Miss Pierce would like to make a statement; is it okay if I show her in?" a Police officer said.

“Sure, thank you.”

Song stood when Brooklyn entered the room.

“I’m Detective Kai; please, have a seat,” he said, gesturing to a chair across from him.

“Thank you.”

“Before we get started, would you like a drink or a bite to eat? I realize it has been a long night.”

“No, thanks, I’m fine.”

Song reached and turned on his digital recorder that was sitting on top of the table, then opened up his laptop and began typing.

“Please state your full legal name.”

“Brooklyn Sage Pierce.”

“Miss Pierce, please tell me what you witnessed tonight.”

Brooklyn swallowed hard and then began to relay her account of the attempted assassination.

“I noticed the guy right away; he looked out of place.”

Song looked up from his keyboard, “Out of place…How?”

“He was wearing sunglasses inside the ballroom and wore a baseball cap. I saw him pushing his way towards the front of the rope line and then he pulled out...”, she hesitated, tears began to roll down Brooklyn’s face as she thought about how close her father and Lydia had come to being killed.

Song pulled a few tissues from a box and handed them to her. “I know this is difficult," he said, "please take your time.” It broke his heart to see the sadness and aguish in her eyes. It was a look he’d seen many times, and knew all too well. Song could tell the moment the realization began to set in. He watched as she tried to maintain her composure.

“I’m sorry,” she softly said, then touched the tissue to her cheeks and continued. “He pulled out the gun and I saw a flash of light and people were pushing, shoving and running, trying to get out of the way. I was knocked to the floor and a security guard shielded me.“

“Do you think you can describe the guy; maybe to a sketch artist?” Song asked.

“Like I said, he was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap. I’m not sure how good my description will be, but I’ll give it a try.”

“Good, will you be available tomorrow?”

“I can come in before class.”

“Are you in college?”

The thought of her students brought a smile to her face. “No, I teach kindergarten.”

Song stared at her for a moment and realized that it was the first time he saw Brooklyn smile. It was radiant and beautiful, he thought.

“Oh, I see. Here’s my card; just give me a call tomorrow and I’ll set you up with the sketch artist.”

Brooklyn opened her purse and placed the card inside. "Thank you, I wish I could have been more help.”

“Miss. Pierce, considering the circumstances, you’ve done very well. I’ll walk you out.”

Mattice nodded and said hello when Brooklyn walked passed him. His eyes stayed on her until she went through the automatic door.

Song shook his head and smiled. “You just can’t help yourself can you?”

Mattice sighed loudly. “Man oh man! That girl is a certified dime piece.”

“A dime piece?” Song asked.

Mattice looked at Song as if he were trying to explain the theory of relativity to a small child. “I see having a brother for a partner for the last four years hasn’t taught you anything. She’s beautiful, hot and sexy...You know, a ten...A dime piece....Oh, never mind.”

Song laughed and held his hands up in protest. “I got it, I got it. Now back to the case; what did you find out?”

“There’s some security footage we need to take a look at, and we think we found the perp’s baseball cap in the lobby.”

“This is good; was there hair in the cap?” Song asked.

The crime lab is looking at it as we speak. The governor’s security detail hasn’t been the most cooperative. I’m thinking they know they fucked up and would like to handle everything in house.”

“I want us to do a thorough investigation because, once the feds take over, we’ll be stone walled. It won’t matter to them that the crime happened on our turf.”

“True. You know what my grandmamma always says: ‘Too many cooks in the kitchen will spoil the fucking soup.’

Song laughed. “Now I see where you get your colorful language.” He looked at his watch. "We have a long night ahead of us; let's move.”

Chapter 8

Before leaving the hospital, Terry insisted that both Brooklyn and Jules have security detail until the perpetrator was apprehended. Brooklyn reluctantly agreed to a security guard stationed right outside her loft. This wasn’t the life she wanted, she liked the fact that she could come and go as she pleased without the fanfare. Yet, she knew she would be on the edge until the gunman was caught. After saying goodnight to Jules and Dan, she made Terry promise her that she would call right away if her father or Lydia’s conditions changed.

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.”