I COULDN'T HEAR HER SCREAM, page 11
“What the fuck!” Zaria mumbled as she read Legend’s lips. Her chest was moving in and out at a fast pace. “Calm down, it’s your mind playing tricks on you, your subconscious, you’re feeling guilty for what happened but it was them or us, they came into our home, but is that how people feel when we break into their home? No, no don’t think of that. Breath,” Zaria thought to herself as she inhaled through her nostrils and exhaled through her mouth, the more she did the more relaxed she became, until her heart stopped pounding so hard and her breathing slowed down. She opened her eyes and looked at her desk and Legend was gone. Then a pain hit her stomach, “Ughh,” she groaned in pain and looked down at it, it felt as if she had to use the bathroom, and a thousand butterflies were in her stomach just flying around crashing into the walls of her stomach. Just as sudden as it happened, it just stopped. Then everything in her body screamed something was wrong and that she should run.
“Where is this feeling coming from? Am I still scared from what happened earlier, why am I feeling like this, like something’s not right. But mother said never ignore your gut feeling for nobody, people, places, or things. If I feel it’s not right then it’s not right.” Zaria said to herself as she eased off her bed unable to shake the weird fearful feeling. She grabbed her crossbow off the bed, and loaded it with an arrow, then placed two more arrows on the side hostler on the crossbow.
“What am I doing? I feel like I’m losing my mind, maybe mother will finally listen to me and we can stop all of this. I love Crystal too but this is too much for me, will I always have nightmares every night or this scary feeling that I always need to fight for my life?” Zaria thought to herself as she raised her crossbow and slowly opened the door, she looked left then right then walked and turned left toward her mother’s bedroom, “I wonder if she will let me sleep in her bed tonight.” Zaria thought to herself.
While walking down the hallway, she noticed her mother's room door was open, something she never did when she was sleeping. Zaria pushed the door open more and stepped in the room and instantly knew something was wrong. She looked down and could see blood. Zaria ran into the bathroom, the water was still running and the shower curtain had been pulled down and it was a trail of blood from the shower to the bathroom room, Zaria turned off the water as she fought back tears.
“Did they come back, more of Klass' friends. How I didn’t feel the vibration? Was I sleeping that hard, I was tired. Mom where are you?” Zaria then looked down and started to follow the blood smeared on the carpet. It led out the bedroom and down the hallway, Zaria walked cautiously down the hallway with her crossbow leading the way. The trail of blood hit wide on the carpet. Zaria reached the living room and her eyes swelled up with tears, she could hardly see. “No! No! No! Mommy,” she said.
Amanda’s naked body lay sideways filled with stab holes, in her back, chest, all over. Zaria ran to her and bent down while crying hysterically, “Mommy no, get up! No,” Zaria said while studying everything, a habit her mother taught her. She looked at the big smear of blood on the couch and knew her mother had been there, then a bloody man’s sock on the floor. She then looked at the wall, it had blood marks made with a fist as if someone was pounding on the wall.
Zaria started crying harder because she knew what it meant. “You were calling for me, you were calling for help. I’m so sorry mommy, I’m so sorry,” Zaria cried then laid her head on her mother’s body. A weird smell lingered in the air. Zaria had smelled it before, it was Old Spice cologne and the smell was getting stronger and closer. Zaria then felt a vibration of a man’s footsteps only inches away from her, she knew she didn’t have enough time to pick up the crossbow and turn around and shoot him. So she did the next best thing, she grabbed one of the arrows out the hostler on the crossbow and spun around and swung.
“Ugh! Little bitch just like your mother!” The butcher screamed then hit Zaria on the side of her head with the handle of his knife. The blow was so hard Zaria saw stars, then felt him hit her again and she lost consciousness and fell out on top of her mother’s body. The Butcher pulled out the arrow Zaria poked him in the stomach with. “Fuck wrong with her?” he said in pain as he zip tied her legs then her hands tighter, then duck taped her mouth. Zaria could feel her body moving but couldn’t do anything.
“Why can't I open my eyes?” she thought to herself as she fought to open her eyes she saw her mother’s dead body while someone was dragging her away. “Mommy,” Zaria tried to say but couldn’t as her body was lifted up off the ground. She could smell the fresh morning air and then she was placed in the trunk of a car and she couldn’t fight the sleep no more as tears slowly came out the corner of her eyes and an image of her mother lying dead stood in her mind.
Chapter 16
Jasmine Davis lay in the bed in a hotel room crying thinking of her daughters, too afraid to go home, next to her was her new Glock 40 and small .22 handgun. Detroit news was on reporting a car crash from three men racing, then a shooting in a Coney Island restaurant where six men were killed, then a car set on fire on the Westside of Detroit with four men in it. “This just now in, a woman has been stabbed over forty-one times on the Eastside on 16th street, police have no clue who did it and why and the woman's twelve-year-old daughter is missing. Detective’s will be looking for her to see if she has an answer or if she is a suspect. What is brutal horrifying murder? What's odd is that just two years ago a week from now Crystal Wright, the victim’s sixteen-year-old daughter was grabbed in front of this very house and hasn’t been heard from again. Police officers don’t think the two cases are related,” The news reporter said.
“Of cause they don’t. They’re stupid as a bag of rocks and don’t never want to do their job,” Jasmine said then got up and got dressed. She grabbed her two guns and placed them in her purse, she looked at her hand that was missing three fingers and wanted to cry. She grabbed the new black gloves she brought to hide her hand, then walked out of her hotel room. She drove for twenty minutes until she was on the Eastside and now in front of the house she saw on the news. Yellow tape was all around the house and policemen were smoking, talking, and laughing. Jasmine parked her car and just watched, “I been here going on an hour and they’re not doing shit but smoking and talking, no wonder that bastard keeps getting away. Fucking cops get paid to do nothing, they’re just killing time, running the clock down until they can punch out. They don’t care about shit, they didn’t even knock on the neighbors doors,” Jasmine said to herself.
She sat in her car for two hours and watched as the police cars started to pull off one by one. Once they were all gone Jasmine got out her car and crossed the street and looked around, it was 5pm and the snow was starting to fall. She walked up to the front door that looked as if it had been kicked in. She twisted the knob and entered, the first thing she saw was blood soaked all over the carpet and couch then walls, flashbacks of The Butcher stabbing her and blood in her own living room flashed in her mind. “Yea it was that bastard, this is his work. It looked just like my house, how can he keep doing this without being stopped?” Jasmine said while crying then walked down the hallway and looked in the first bedroom, it was mint green and belonged to a younger girl. “I wonder if he took her like he did my daughter,” Jasmine said to herself then walked to the second room that was bright pink. She shut the door then walked to the master bedroom, there was blood all on the floor and in the bathroom.
“What do you think you’ll find that we didn’t?” Jasmine heard a voice say and dug in her purse and pulled out her gun in a blink of an eye and turn around. “Hey now I know you got a license for that gun but you still can’t be pointing at a police officer,” Detective Nelson said with his hands raised in the air.
“I’m sorry, you can’t be sneaking up on me like that, not after all I've been through,” she replied, lowering her gun and putting it back in her purse.
“I can understand that, but the real question is what are you doing here?” Detective Nelson asked. Jasmine stared at him and wondered if she should tell him the truth. Detective Nelson was in his early forties, with salt and pepper hair in his head, with the matching beard, he wasn’t tall but wasn’t short and you can tell he still worked out, he was middle size built. Today he had on a silk blue suit with a black tie that matched his shoes with a black long peacoat on, if he was in church he would be one of the best dressers.
“You know why I’m here, the news won’t say it, the police won’t say it but I know it was him and so do you. I was doing my own investigation and hopes of finding The Butcher.” Jasmine said.
“Yea, I believe it was him as well, it certainly looks like his work, but it’s funny you said doing your own investigation, well not funny but the woman who lives here was doing the same thing,” Detective Nelson said.
“What you mean?” Jasmine replied.
“Well, that deal I gave you, she took, she paid for police report, I’ll give her new files like every other mouth. I think she was close to finding The Butcher or found out something, she must have or he just came back to finish the job he started with her older daughter. Who knows, she was a nice woman. I liked her, she kept it real and blunt and she was a strong woman, kinda like you. Shit, I thought you two would meet one day and start a support group to be real.” Detective Nelson said.
Jasmine’s eyes lit up. “So he came back, she might’ve found something that would help her find her daughter. I wonder what it was, or did The Butcher just comes back because he was bored. I need to know more, I got to find Traci, I know she’s still alive I can feel it.” Jasmine thought to herself. “I need the files that she had, I need to read them and the files about her case as well, if they found anything,” Jasmine replied.
“Listen, I told you my terms, it pay or play, I can lose my job, the funny thing is I gave her a file earlier and search this whole house and couldn’t find it, she always burned the old file and write down notes, but not a new file, I think who ever killed her took it with them.” Detective Nelson said.
“Okay, I’ll pay,” Jasmine said.
“Not to be rude Mrs. Davis , she had a unique skill and was able to pay me $10,000 to $20,000 a time to have access to those files,” Detective Nelson responses.
“I don’t have that kind of money,” Jasmine replied as she started to lose hope all over again.
“I’m gonna be honest, I felt like she was wasting the money, I didn’t think she would find anything that the police had missed, but she thought otherwise, I felt bad for her, like I feel bad for you. You should just drop this, it’s gonna hurt, but you’ve been through enough pain, you should just move somewhere and start over She confided in me that’s what she wanted to do, just start over, the toll of keep searching for The Butcher was becoming too much and I see you walking down the same pathway. Just drop it,” Detective Nelson said.
“How?” Jasmine asked.
“How what?” Detective Nelson replied.
“How can I drop it? Do you have children?” Jasmine asked.
“No I got too deep in my job at a young age, thought I could clean up Detroit, fell in love with the job too much and my wife divorced me, to answer your question, no God didn’t bless me with kids, all I have is this job.” Detective Nelson replied.
“So you’ll never understand, losing your child is like losing a part of you. No parent should outlive their children, you do your best to keep them safe, teach them so they could be ready for the world. But how was they supposed to know their home wasn’t safe, that a sick killer can come for them? How can I get them ready for what weapons to use. I told them all the time that there are sick people out there in this world, that killers are real, but never told them that they could enter the place they felt the safest.
How can I let go when a piece of my heart and soul is missing and that’s them? What if my daughter Traci somewhere alive just praying, just hoping I’ll save her but I don’t because I just let go and try to go on with my life, and every day she calls out for me, and everyday I’m not there. It’s been two weeks since I saw the detective and I know she’s still alive. I can feel it, so I just can’t go. I can’t just start a new life. That man needs to pay. He took everything from me, my child, my husband, my home, my peace of mind. I’m scared all the time and want to hide, but I can’t, he’s out here doing this to different people and different families with no consequences.” Jasmine said while crying.
“I been on this job for twenty years and it’s always some sick killer, it once was a guy that had twelve women buried in his basement, he’d put a new one there every year and no one noticed until one escaped, maybe that what will happen with your daughter but cases like this break people spirits in so many ways. I rather investigate the drug dealers shooting each other, that I can understand but this right here, brutal killings, I just can’t. The worst part is the F.B.I won’t even look into none of these cases because it’s middle class families but let it be one of those families from Bloomington, they would’ve found the killer by now. It just shows you how they value our lives, the system is a joke. I got one more year and I can retire or keep going if I’m bored,” Detective Nelson said and turned around and walked out the room.
“Wait?” Jasmine said and he stopped in his tracks.
“Yes Mrs. Davis,” Detective Nelson said without turning around.
“Why do you ask for cash or ass, don’t you have a heart, don’t you care?” Jasmine asked.
Detective Nelson laughed.
“Why are you laughing, I’m serious?” Jasmine replied.
“I’m laughing because you sound just like her, Amanda the woman who owns this house, y’all would have been best friends, both strong women and fighters. But to answer your question I do care, born and raised in Detroit, but if I lose my job who is gonna care about me, no one. If I lose my pension, who is going to feed me? No one, so I might as well get something out of the transaction, the two things I love, ass and cash,” Detective Nelson said and started walking again.
“Wait, I’ll do it,” Jasmine said while holding her head down.
Detective Nelson turned around. “You’ll do what?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“I’m ready to sleep with you for the files,” Jasmine said.
“Are you sure you want to do this? Don’t get me wrong, I’ll love to tap that ass, that’s not the problem, the issue is the last person I looked out for with the police. She's now dead as you can see. You’ll be putting a target on your back, giving him a reason to come for you and finish the job. That’s not something I really want,” Detective Nelson said.
“If he comes for me, let him come, this is the only move I got,” Jasmine replied.
“ Okay I’ll head to the police precinct and get the files, want me to meet you at?” Detective Nelson asked.
“I’ll text you my hotel and room,” Jasmine said as she walked past him, then out the house. “I have to find my daughter if it means giving myself to another man to do so, then so be it,” Jasmine said as she hopped in her truck and drove to her hotel. She got in the shower letting the water hit her body as she thought of her family. I can find him and when I do I’ll kill him for taking my family from me. I feel useless, like I just let him take my daughter, but I got to be strong. I know I can find him, I’m gonna need more guns and weapons when I do,” Jasmine said out loud to herself then heard her phone go off.
She turned off the water and hopped out the shower and grabbed one of the hotel white towels and dried her body off, then lotioned with Cherry Blossom from Bath and Body Works then she put on a black lingerie set and grabbed the white hotel robe and put it on, then grabbed her phone, Detective Nelson was already waiting downstairs. She texted him the room number and five minutes later heard a knock at the door. “I got to do this, this is the only way,” Jasmine told herself as she went to the door and opened it. Detective Nelson was holding one of those big cardboard offices boxes, filled with files and police reports.
He stepped in, Jasmine could tell he showered because his suit was different, it was a dark plum now, and he smelled like soap. “This is all the files I can pull up going back four years until this day, even what happened to Amanda. I’m gonna tell you like I told her, you may see something we missed because it’s your child and life, but don’t tell too many people and destroy the files as you get done,” Detective Nelson said as he put the box on the desk in the room, then took off his coat.
Jasmine turned her head to look at the back and turned it back, and Detective Nelson was now completely butt naked with only his black church socks on and with a hard dick pointing toward her, he climbed into the king size bed as if it belonged to him, Jasmine looked at him strangely. “Don’t look at me like that, a deal is a deal. I kept my end. We all get a little sad when we have to pay a bill. Shit, I hate paying my rent the first of the month, or that damn light bill, no matter how bad I want to hold on to that money, I still got to pay with my face twisted up and all. It’s no more than what’s happening now love,” Detective Nelson said.
“It’s a big fucking difference, you making me give you pussy for information after I lost my family, but I chose this,” Jasmine thought to herself and wanted to scream it out loud. She stood there for a second, before removing her robe. Detective Nelson looked at her with lust in his eyes. Jasmine was short and thick, and well put together for her age. The sight of her brown skin and juicy lips turned Detective Nelson on even more as he watched her pull down her boy shorts and climb in the bed and bent over with her ass in the air.
