Fatal Series 00 - Fatal Destiny

Freddie said, knowing how she’d suffered in the aftermath of that calamitous night.
    “Hard not to.” For months after the incident, she had repeatedly woken in a sweat, after hearing Marquis’s tortured screams in her sleep. Sam shuddered. Only to close her father’s baffling case would she take a step back in time to the lowest point in her career.
    “What do you think Roberto knows?”
    “Everything that goes on in Washington Highlands. I should’ve thought to ask him about Reece’s house before now.”
    “Don’t feel bad—I didn’t think of him, either.”
    They arrived at a public housing complex on Southern Avenue. As Sam and Freddie made their way from the parking lot to a first-floor unit, they caught the attention of those gathered outside. The residents of the crime-riddled neighborhood knew cops when they saw them. Before Sam could knock on Roberto’s door, a gorgeous young woman with long dark hair and eyes opened it. She eyed Sam suspiciously.
    “What do you want?” she asked. “We got no trouble around here.”
    “I’m not looking for any trouble,” Sam said. “Is Roberto around?”
    She looked Sam up and down. “Who wants to know?”
    Sam showed her badge. “Lieutenant Holland. MPD.”
    “Let her in, Angel,” came a voice from inside the apartment.
    Giving Sam a glare, she stepped aside to let Sam pass but put up a hand to stop Freddie. “He said her .”
    “She doesn’t go in there without me,” Freddie said.
    Sam turned to see Freddie and Angel locked in a battle of wills. Just as she was about to tell him to wait in the hallway, Angel backed down and let him by. He gave Sam a satisfied grin.
    “Long time no see,” Roberto said. He held up a closed fist to Sam.
    Sam returned the fist bump, looking down at the good-looking young man in the wheelchair whom she had befriended during the Johnson investigation. As one of the lower-ranking members of the Johnson organization, Roberto hadn’t much registered on Marquis Johnson’s radar, which is how Sam had been able to get close to him. He had short dark hair and world-weary eyes. He’d seen far too much far too soon. “How goes it, Roberto?”
    He shrugged. “Good days, bad days. Today’s been a good day. You ain’t gonna change that, are ya?”
    “Nope. I’m wondering what you know about Trace Simmons and Darius Gardner.”
    Roberto let out a low whistle. “What’s a nice girl like you asking about a couple hard-core bangers like them for?”
    Sam smiled at him. The shootout in the crack house had changed his life too—in some ways for the better. While the bullet wound had stolen his legs, it had also given him a way out of a life that was going nowhere fast. Sam had helped him get a job as a clerk with the city.
    Sam filled him in on what’d happened at Reece’s house and the possible connection to Simmons and Gardner.
    “I read about that dude taking you hostage. You like to keep it real, huh?”
    Sam rolled her eyes. “A little too real lately.”
    “For what it’s worth, I ain’t never heard either of them brag about shooting no cop—and those two? They woulda talked.”
    Sam kept her expression neutral to hide the rush of disappointment. She knew she should be used to it by now after so many dashed leads, but the letdown never got easier to take.
    “That don’t mean they didn’t do it, though,” he quickly added. “They both got long sheets, and doing a cop would put ’em away for a long stretch. They mighta kept it on the down low cuza that.”
    “What do you know about them?”
    “Simmons busted outta the foster system a million times ’til they finally gave up on him and let him go. He’s been on the streets since he was a kid. Rotten little bastard. Takes care of number one. Gardner’s a total douche bag. That girl who said he raped her?”
    Sam nodded.
    “She’s my second cousin. I saw her right after it happened. No doubt he did it.”
    “Why’d it get squashed?”
    “No fuckin’ clue. The U.S. attorney tossed it and never told us why.”
    Something stunk to high heaven there, and Sam planned to find out what.
    “You can’t go from me to them,” he said, looking like a fearful kid. “You’ll get me iced.”
    “You’re not tied up in that shit any more. Are you?”
    “Hell, no. That don’t mean nothin’ to them though. They hear I’m squealing to a cop, and my life ain’t worth shit. You know that.”
    “Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.”
    Roberto studied her