Brooklyn's Song (6 page)

Chapter 18

Brooklyn returned home and after a hot bath, lounged on her sofa going over lesson plans for class. She took her glasses off, placed them on the table and noticed the business card Song had given her the previous day. Brooklyn thought about how nervous he seemed when she stood next to him and cupped his hand. She remembered inhaling his aftershave; the smell was alluring, masculine, and sexy. She blushed at the thought of wanting to wake up with that scent on her sheets and on her skin. Seriously, she thought, I need to get some sleep. She was startled when her phone rang.

The caller ID indicated it was her sister. “Jules, how’s my favorite sister?”

“Brook, I‘m happy as a pig in slop! As we speak, I’m eating the biggest Ice-cream sundae complete with chocolate covered popcorn on top.

“Grrross!” Brooklyn said, in her best valley girl voice.

Jules laughed. “Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. Listen, I’m calling to let you know that Dan and I are going back home. I have a doctor’s appointment and Dan has business to take care of. I wish we spent more time together. I stopped by Dad’s and he seems to be getting along well. I’ve also called Lydia; she said she got your message and will call you tomorrow. Don’t worry, Dan has hired a private security team until that whack job is caught. Promise me that you’ll stick with the security detail that dad assigned.”

Brooklyn peered out the window. Down on the street, a black sedan that contained the two armed security guards was sitting curbside. There was also a guard stationed inside the lobby.

“I promise, Jules. You have a safe flight back and let me know if I’m going to have a niece or nephew. Love you!”

“I love you too, and my lips will remain sealed when it comes to the sex of the baby, “Jules said, before ending the call.

Brooklyn decided to call it a night. She wondered if Song would actually show up at the coffee shop in the morning.

Chapter 19

Lauren’s coffee house was located a couple blocks away from Brooklyn’s job. She would stop in at least once a week before class and treat herself to a triple chocolate scone and hazelnut latte. The mouth-watering delicious aroma of fresh baked pastries and coffee permeated the air. The coffee shop had an art deco vibe with its detailed wood work and vintage furniture. The booths were burnt red with ebony borders. The tables were blonde Elmwood with cobalt blue legs. Brooklyn sat at a table in the back and nibbled on a scone. She watched the busy traffic and people rushing by, hoping to spot Song. Cumulus clouds darkened the sky and rain began streaming down the window.

Brooklyn had just finished her coffee when she heard the bell on the entry door jingle. Song quickly walked in to escape the downpour. He looked around, searching for Brooklyn. She decided to sit and watch him; she wanted Song to find her on his own. Brooklyn gazed at him over the top of her glasses, keeping her head down. He was dressed in a turquoise button down shirt, and tan slacks. The turquoise highlighted his sun-kissed skin. He paid for a cup of coffee and then took a sip while he continued to scan the room.

“Find me, find me,” she whispered.

She heard approaching footsteps and knew it was Song. Brooklyn pretended to be engrossed in her phone when she heard him say, “May I sit down?”

She looked up. “So, detective, I guess you are following me. Please, have a seat.”

“Good morning, Miss Peirce, I almost didn’t recognize you with the glasses.”

Brooklyn was wearing large framed pecan colored tortoise shell glasses, a creamed colored blouse and a black pencil skirt. Lonette called it Brooklyn’s “Hot librarian look.”

“They’re a lot more comfortable than contacts. So what brings you here?”

He took a sip of his coffee. ”Mmm, I heard they had some really good coffee.”

She let out a laugh, “I guess anything is an improvement over that toxic stuff they call coffee at the police station.”

Song chuckled. “Yeah, it’s pretty scary. I guess you just get used to it.”

“How’s the investigation going into the shooting?”

“We’re making progress. I think it’s just a matter of time before we catch him. I see you have your security guard with you.” Song nodded his head at the large man dressed in all black sitting at the table directly behind Brooklyn.

“Yeah, he’s my shadow. He sits in the car outside of the school and then accompanies me home.”

Song noticed a tiny piece of chocolate icing clinging to Brooklyn’s top lip. He was tempted to lean over the table and taste it with his tongue.

“Are you going to have something to eat? The food here is really good.” she said.

“No, the coffee is fine.”

“Do you live in the city?” she asked.

When Song married his late wife Ji-Hye, they purchased a house in Westchester County. When she passed away, he sold the house and moved in with his ailing grandmother.

“I live in Bronxville.”

Brooklyn noticed yesterday that Song wasn’t wearing a ring, but she decided to ask him anyway. “Are you married?”

Song took a sip of his coffee and said, “No, my wife passed away six years ago.”

Brooklyn saw the pain in his eyes and felt like an ass for asking.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

“No, it’s okay,” Song quickly said, “What about you; are you married and do you live in the city?”

“No, I’m not married and I live in Tribeca. Being a detective, I’m sure you already knew that.” She looked out the window; the rain was still coming down.

He held his hands up, “You got me! But, I have to know; if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be doing my job.”

Brooklyn looked at her watch. “I have to get to work; I’m glad you made it.”

The bodyguard walked up. “Mr. Black,” Brooklyn said, “This is Detective Kai.” Song and Mr. Black shook hands.

“Excuse me, Miss Peirce; I’m going to get the car. Nice to meet you, Detective Kai,” he said before walking away.

“Likewise,” Song said.

Song walked Brooklyn to the door. He saw that she didn’t have an umbrella.

“Hey, I’ll walk you to the car.”

He pushed the door open and stepped out. Brooklyn followed behind and quickly stood beneath his umbrella. The rain bounced off the pavement while cars splashed through puddles. Song stared into Brooklyn’s eyes; they were silent for a moment and she nervously looked away. He wanted to lean into her…To taste her lips and the tiny piece of chocolate that clung to them. It was like a reflex that he couldn’t control. He reached and brushed the tip of his finger over her lip. A surprised look crossed her face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…You had a piece of icing on your lip,” he said, fearing he may have offended her.

“Oh, okay, thank you.”

The car pulled up, and Song walked Brooklyn to the door and held the umbrella over her head until she got inside.

She rolled the window down and said, “Thanks again for the coffee chat. I will know for certain that you’re following me, if say…” She paused and thought for a moment. “You showed up at my apartment and escorted me to my friend’s birthday party tonight at eight o’clock sharp.” She rolled the window up and tapped on the partition alerting the driver that she was ready to leave. The driver waited a few minutes and then pulled out into traffic.

Song, distracted, let down his umbrella and stood in the rain with a smile on his face.

Hunter was in the pastry shop across the street. She had watched Song and Brooklyn from the time they exited the coffee shop. She recognized Brooklyn from some of the press events she had attended, when the governor was campaigning.

She chewed on a coffee stirrer. “Interesting,” she said to herself.

Chapter 20

Mattice and Song were standing outside the hospital room of the governor’s fiancée waiting to interview her.

The doctor opened the door. “Good afternoon, detectives, Miss Carmen would like to see you now.”

The corner table in the room was overflowing with cards and colorful bouquets of flowers.

Lydia was in the bed with a lavender goose down duvet draped over her. She placed her reading glasses and magazine on the hospital tray in front of her and gestured for Mattice and Song to have a seat. They pulled chairs from the corner and sat at the foot of the bed.

“Hello, Miss Carmen, I’m Detective Kai and this is Detective Blake. We would like to ask you a few questions.”

“Sure, by all means,” Lydia said.

“‘Do you know of anyone who would like to cause you harm?” Mattice asked.

Lydia quickly shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

“What about an ex -boyfriend, husband, or business rival?”

“No, my ex-husband remarried ten years ago. He has no ill will towards me. My ex-boyfriend and I are on speaking terms. He lives in France with his girlfriend. The fashion business is a competitive business, but I doubt that it could lead to shooting someone.”

“Have you received any angry letters or e-mails? Has one of your competitors behaved in an aggressive way?” Song said.

“No, I haven’t received any threatening or weird correspondence and no one has behaved aggressively towards me.”

“Have you seen the sketch in the paper of the assailant?” Song asked.

‘No I haven’t, I’ve been working with my design team on my new collection.”

Song retrieved a folder and pulled out three sketches; he walked over to the side of the bed and handed them to Lydia, one at a time.

She slowly studied each sketch. Frustrated, she threw down the sketches and said, “I just can’t remember anything about that night.”

Seeing she was visibly upset, Mattice picked up a pitcher of water off the table and poured her a glass.

“Thank you,” she said; her hand still shaking while she sipped the water.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Song said.

Lydia let out a sigh of relief. “I wish I could have been more helpful.”

“Thank you so much for your time. We hope you make a speedy recovery,” Mattice said.

Chapter 21

Brooklyn had just finished reading the children a story and they were preparing for snack time. There was a purple wheel in the classroom containing all of the student’s names. Brooklyn would spin it; the student’s name the pointer landed on would bring in treats the following day. Brooklyn glanced to the back of the room and saw a disappointed look on the face of a girl named Keisha Ward. Keisha’s mom had recently lost her job and they were now living with her aunt. Brooklyn knew Keisha didn’t have anything to share with her classmates.

“Keisha, it’s your turn to pass out snacks,” Brooklyn said.

The little girl slowly got up and walked to the front of the classroom. Brooklyn could see the tears welling up in Keisha’s eyes.

Brooklyn announced to the class, “Ooooo, let’s go to the pantry and see what Keisha brought in today.” She took Keisha by the hand.

While they stood at the pantry, the little girl started to protest. “Miss Peirce-“

Brooklyn cut her off, “Oh wow! This is my absolute favorite thing to eat.” She reached in the pantry and came out with four big boxes of chocolate chip cookies. “Would you like to pass the snack out to the class?”

Keisha looked up at Brooklyn and smiled. “Yes, Miss Pierce.” She excitedly rushed over and began to pass out the cookies.

Brooklyn overheard the students saying, “Keisha, this is the best snack ever!”

After snack time, Brooklyn was in the process of distributing macaroni to be used for an art project when Lonette tapped on the window of the door. Brooklyn motioned for her to come in.

Lonette waved to the children. “Good afternoon boys and girls.”

“Good afternoon, Miss Mitchell,” the children said in unison.

She pulled Brooklyn aside. “I just want to make sure you’re coming to the party tonight.”

“Of course I’m coming. Would you like me to bring something? Do you need help setting up?”

“No! Just bring a hearty appetite; we’re going to have a little bit of everything: soul food, Greek food and everything in between. Make sure you wear your dancing shoes too. She laughed. Girl, I’ll see you tonight.

“See you later,” Brooklyn said.

Brooklyn was looking forward to the party and looking forward to seeing Song. She loved his boyish grin and how he looked completely horrified when he brushed his finger over her lip.

.

Chapter 22

The tip-line phone rang off the hook. Each call was listed as credible or non-credible. Officer Cary Williams took one of the calls from a woman claiming that a person in front of her liquor store looked like the man in the sketch. “He’s picking bottles out of the recycling bin,” she said, panicking, “And still wearing the same clothes. You better get here now before he leaves.”

She gave officer Williams the address. Officers were dispatched to the location and immediately apprehended the suspect. Mattice and Song pulled up in the alley on the side of the liquor store behind the patrol car. An officer approached them.

“What do we have?” Song asked.

“Well, we responded to a call that came into the tip-line telling us that the perp was spotted at this store. We arrived on the scene and found that guy,” he said, pointing to a disheveled African American man. He was sitting in the back of the patrol car.

“You know that’s not him, right?” Mattice said. All of the witnesses identified the suspect as white.

“Yeah, well the thing is, we found this in his belongings.” The officer handed Mattice an evidence bag. The bag contained a 9 millimeter gun. “We also found a map to the hotel and the date and time of when the governor was scheduled to speak. I’m willing to bet this is the gun that was used in the shooting and that poor bastard is wearing the clothes that the perp wore that night. He told me he found the bag containing the map, clothes and gun in the dumpster down the alley,” the officer said.

Song looked around. “This is less than a block away from the hotel. Let’s have some uniforms canvass this alley and turn everything upside down and see what else they can find. Is he coherent?” Song asked.

“He doesn’t seem too plastered, but he reeks of urine, booze and who knows what else. I’ll bring him over, so you can interview him.”

“Thanks; good work officer,” Song said, giving the police officer a friendly pat on the back.

Mattice and Song went down to the station to conduct their interview.

They sat across from the homeless man who identified himself as Private William Lance Jones. His thick hair and beard appeared wild and unkempt. His eyes were bloodshot and several of his front teeth were broken.

“Did you notice any unusual cars or people hanging around the alley?” Song asked

Private Jones rubbed his beard and thought about the question. “Naw, not really.”

“So you didn’t see the person who tossed the bag in the dumpster?” Mattice said.

“No, I didn’t see nobody!”

‘When did you find the bag?” Song asked.

“I found that bag yesterday. I saw the shirt first…” Private Jones paused. His eyes became as big as two saucers and he whispered, “And then the gun.”

“So if we run the gun, we’ll find your prints?” Song said.

Private Jones looked down at the floor. “Yeah, I touched it, but I didn’t shoot nobody.”

Song and Mattice looked at each other in agreement.

“Private Jones, the NYPD appreciates your help, so we’re going to give you a one night stay at Allison’s motor court. Also, I want you to report to this address tomorrow. My friend Gail runs a soup kitchen and a half- way house exclusively for veterans. Mattice handed him a card with all the information.

“Private Jones, do you want something to eat? How about we take a ride and get some food over at Annie’s Diner,” Song said.

They drove downtown. They went in Annie’s Diner and sat down in one of the booths.

“How about some soup, Private Jones,” Song asked.

“Can I have a turkey and cheese sandwich with mayo too?”

Mattice politely called the waitress over and placed the order. She looked at Private Jones with disdain. The look didn’t go unnoticed by Song and Mattice.

“You know, Randi,” Song said, reading the waitresses name tag, “Private Jones here is a hero; he fought for his country defending our freedom. So, why don’t you throw in a nice big slice of apple pie too?”

The waitress realized her mistake and said, “How about a big helping of whipped cream on top? I’ll be right back with your order, sir.”

Private Jones finished the entire bowl of soup, the sandwich and the pie. He left the diner with quite a big smile on his face.

Mattice and Song dropped Private Jones off at the motel. Mattice knew the owner and told Song, “This dude owes me a favor; I helped him out with his troubled son. You know, I did a ‘scared straight’ routine on him. The kid is now getting good grades and will be graduating in June.”

“Let’s check in with the lab and see if they recovered anything useful we collected,” Song said.

Mattice looked at his watch. “Why, you have somewhere to go?”

Song smiled and said, “Maybe I do.”