The cost of vengeance - [13]

“What happened, Gene?”

“We closed ranks.”

“The Blue wall.”

“McDill had a wife and three kids. So everybody’s statement left out the part about McDill hitting Copeland; and him and Brown beating him before he shot McDill,” Sanchez said and dropped his head.

“What about the other guy?”

“He was one of the star witnesses for the prosecution. He didn’t want any part of the murder charge, so he rolled on Lorenzo and did it quick. When he got on the stand he told the same story: Copeland grabbed McDill’s gun and killed him.”

“What’s happened to him and Tyler?”

“Tyler had a deal; so he testified in the murder trial against Copeland, and now he’s in witness protection. The other guy, I think his name was Chris Beck, he copped to possession and got five years.”

“DA must have wanted Copeland bad for them to give Tyler witness protection.”

“Copeland comes from a long line of drug dealers. His uncles, cousins-all dealers. DA thought if he could flip Copeland that he could get his suppliers.”

“Fuckin’ DA.”

“What can I say; it was an election year.”

“Anything else you wanna tell me?”

“On my sainted mother, that’s the whole story,” Sanchez said and crossed himself.

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you guys don’t have anything on this woman?”

“No, Kirk, it doesn’t. But I got some ideas about that.”

“Like what?” I had to ask.

“Give me a couple of days and ask me that again,” Sanchez said and sipped his coffee.

Just then I got a text from Reyes saying that he had ID’s on this morning’s victims. “That was Reyes,” I said and started walking back across the street toward the building.

“Mind if I tag along?” Sanchez said and I stopped.

“I hate to ask this, Gene, we go back a long way, but I gotta. What’s your interest here?”

“Let’s get out of the street,” Sanchez said and I had to agree. When we were back on the sidewalk, Sanchez stopped and faced me. “I know you’re thinking, just like I am, that the only way for this to be going on is for somebody blue to be taking green. This is my house, my guys; I need to get on top of it.”

“This is the part I don’t like. You’re not here to cover this up, are you?”

“I know you gotta ask, but a cop’s family getting his pension is one thing, covering for dirty cops is something else.”

“Good enough for me. Let’s go,” I said and went into the building.

“Right behind-partner.”

When we talked to Reyes and he gave us the names and rap sheets of the other three bodies. Robert King and Bernard “Blade” Bradshaw both had long records for possession and firearms violations, but the one that bothered me was the woman that was found in the vacant apartment. Her name was Shantia Lewis. All we had on her was a shoplifting charge and that was eight years old. We got her last known address from the DMV and headed over there.

What we found when we got there was police tape. “See if you can find out what happened here,” I said to Sanchez and got out of the car. I went under the tape and walked toward the house. As I got closer, I could see the chalk outline and the bloodstain on the pavement.

When I got back in the car, Sanchez had the rundown. “Her name was LeSean Wooden. Her and Lewis were roommates. Witnesses say that after they heard the shots, they saw three people lead Lewis away at gunpoint, and drive off in an old Chevy Nova.”

“She got a record?”

“Bad checks,” Sanchez said.

“So what do we have? We got two women: one gets dropped here and the other is taken by three people to the drug house, and they kill her there. A few hours later, three people, and I’m thinking that we’re talking about the same three people, get dropped at the drug house.”

“They take Lewis there; question her. She does or doesn’t tell them what they want to know and they kill her. Their people come after them, and in retaliation, they kill Damson, King, and Bradshaw.”

“I’m willing to go along with the first part: Damson and her people kill Wooden and kidnap and kill Lewis, but there’s more to it. What was this about? And who are our shooters?”

“We don’t have a lot to go on.”

I started the car and drove off. “Maybe I’m trying to read too much into this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this could be the same as every other day, dope dealers fighting for turf, bullshit.”

“If what the old man says is true, that’s been a good spot for them for years.”

“I need to know who was supplying Damson, and who would want to take over that spot,” I said and headed for the station to dig a little deeper.

What I found was more dead-ends. Chris Beck was murdered on the yard two weeks after he got to prison. Bryce Tyler disappeared from witness protection over a year ago. The only person I found that I could talk to was Nina Thomas, Copeland’s old girlfriend. It was a long shot, but maybe she could give me something to go on; ’cause right now, I had nothing.

Chapter Seven

Rain Robinson

The first place I went was to a little bar up on the avenue, where Jay Easy and his crew used to hang out. The last time I was there, I walked out with that nigga on my arm so I could kill him. He had sent people to rob my dope spots and kill my dealers. “I thought we had something. I was ready to do life for you. I gets out and come lookin’ for my woman, and you play me off for this nigga,” Jay Easy said to me that night.