“I’m the number one distributor of opioids and heroin in the DMV,” Farraday said, puffing out his chest.
“Not anymore.”
POP! POP! POP!
Farraday hit the floor, blood oozing from his chest. Stryker picked up the buyer’s phone and called 911.
“What’s your emergency?”
“Drug deal went bad,” Stryker said, altering his voice. He gave her the address and hung up, then he wiped the phone and dropped it next to Farraday.
“Brooks,” Stryker said. “We need a pick up.”
“On my way,” Brooks replied.
* * *
At nine thirty, Emerson arrived at the club, ready to hear the truth from Parker. Like every night, the place was packed, the line of eager members was twenty people deep. There were no parking spots out front, so she drove around back and parked. Instead of walking around to the front door, she stood in front of the back-door scanner. To her surprise, the light turned green and she opened the door.Stryker gave me complete access.
She made her way to L2 via the back stairs. That scanner turned green and she entered the second floor.
The vibe on L2 was so different from the mayhem downstairs. Sultry jazz filtered down from ceiling-mounted speakers. Seductive lighting bathed everyone in a soft glow. Here, club members were decked to the nines. Emerson was downplaying it in black jeans, a tightknit shirt, and lightweight leather jacket, but she was on official police business. She scanned the room and found Parker behind the bar. As she made her way over, she caught his eye. After acknowledging her, he spoke to the other bartender, then walked over.
“Thanks for meeting us,” he said. “My sister’s waiting in a booth.”
The woman was sitting alone, her back to the room. Masked and wearing what looked like a wig, she offered a timid smile. “Hi, I’m Debbie, Parker’s sister.”
Emerson slid across from her and Parker sat beside his sister. “I’m Detective Easton.” She showed Debbie her badge. “Thanks for meeting me.”
After a tight nod, Debbie sipped her coffee.
“I understand Parker was with you on April fifteenth and sixteenth. Can you tell me about that?”
The young woman leaned forward. “I left my husband in April—April fifteenth, to be exact—and moved from Dayton to Philadelphia. He was abusive and controlling. I tried leaving him a year ago, but he promised he’d be nice, so I went back. He’s a liar.” She shuddered. “I couldn’t trust anybody but Parker. He met me in Philly and helped me find an apartment.”
“Can I see your driver’s license?” Emerson asked.
With shaking fingers, Debbie set it on the table. Emerson snapped a picture. “What can either of you show me that puts Parker there that weekend?”
“He took a bunch of pictures while,” Debbie said.
Parker handed his phone to Emerson. “There’s at least twelve. When you’re done, I’ll show you when they were taken.”
A waiter topped Debbie’s mug and Emerson ordered an iced tea.
Emerson scrolled through photo after photo. Brother and sister in front of the Liberty Bell, another selfie of them eating Philly cheesesteaks, one in front of an apartment building, one of Debbie signing a lease.
“We had the best weekend,” Debbie said. “I felt free.” She smiled at her brother. “He told me I could do it and I did it. I left my husband.”
Emerson returned the phone to Parker. He tapped on the photo app and showed Emerson the dates and locations of the pictures. They were all taken in Philly on the fifteenth and sixteenth.
“Why didn’t you just tell me this when I asked you about it?” Emerson asked him.
“That’s on me,” Debbie interjected. “I swore Parker to secrecy. I was terrified my husband would somehow find me. He told me if I ever left him again, he’d hunt me down and kill me. When Parker left me in Philly, he had no way to contact me because I left my phone in Dayton. I had squirreled away a little money, so I lay low the first month. Didn’t even buy a burner. When I got a phone and called him, he told me he’d been accused of killing someone. I’d gotten a job waiting tables, but I came down as soon as I could. There’s no way he killed anyone.”
“Thank you for contacting me,” Emerson said. The server returned with her beverage and she drank down half the glass. “Parker, I have one more question. You requested time off this week. Where were you?”
“I’ve decided to move to Philly to be near my sister. I used to work construction, so I lined up some interviews and drove up on Sunday. The club is closed on Mondays and I took Tuesday and Wednesday off.”
