Body of Evidence Read online

  “You are stating that I’m going to want your attention and contact?” Marcus asked enjoying her smile. Panthea Daniels was a beautiful woman and he was definitely attracted to her.

  “I’m not saying anything like that, Mr. Douglas. I was just trying to define what you meant by stalking. But I did come see a lawyer, and I know it’s your job to twist people’s words.”

  “I think I should be insulted.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I like to think that I get to the truth in people’s words,” he responded. Panthea tilted her head to one side and looked at Marcus. “Semantics?” he asked.

  “Of the worst kind.”

  Marcus laughed. “Why don’t you tell me what I can do for you today Mrs.—I mean Panthea.”

  “I want to begin divorce proceedings against my husband, Scott. I’m convinced that he is having an affair.”

  “I’m very sorry.”

  Marcus started to say that he wouldn’t be the one handling the divorce and that she should save the details for Gibson.

  But he didn’t.

  She intrigued him.

  And after his unsatisfying night with Adriana, Marcus wanted her. “What makes you think that he’s having an affair?”

  “A woman just knows.”

  “What I mean is do you have any proof. Letters, emails; seen him with her.” Marcus paused. “It is a woman we’re talking about?”

  “Yes—I mean I—I really don’t know,” Panthea laughed. “I mean, I don’t think Scott is gay.”

  “You mean a woman doesn’t know?”

  “I am not touching that one. Let’s just leave it at I don’t know who he’s seeing and move on.”

  “Have his habits changed?”

  “Definitely. There are the whispering phone calls in the other room that abruptly ends when I come into the room. And of course there are the late night meetings with clients; that type of thing.”

  “Before we go any further, we need to find out exactly what Scott is doing and with who he’s doing it with, and then we’ll discuss what you want to do with the information.”

  No longer was there any thought about sending Mrs. Panthea Daniels to Gibson. In addition to being the best divorce lawyer at the firm, Gibson also specialized in fucking every female divorcee that came through his door.

  Marcus wanted her for himself.

  “How do we go about doing that?” Panthea asked, smiling as if his interest was the best news she’d had in years.

  The more Panthea smiled, the more he wanted her. Why should Gibson have all the fun? “I know an investigator I use sometimes. I have a meeting with him later this afternoon. If you like, I could ask him to look into it.”

  “That’s fine. Is there any information that you need from me?”

  “Right now I have all the information I need. The investigator’s name is Garrett Mason. He’ll be in touch with you.” Marcus looked at his watch and stood up. “He’ll have some more detailed questions to ask you about your husband and his activities.”

  “Since you're standing up, I’m going to assume that you're finished with me,” Panthea said as Marcus came around from behind his desk.

  Marcus stopped. “As I said, I have all the information I need for the time being, and I do have another appointment,” he said politely.

  “I’m sure you do. But suppose I’m not ready to go?”

  Marcus looked at Panthea and his entire facial expression changed. She stood up and laughed a little.

  “Got ya,” she said softly and stepped toward Marcus. “Don’t worry. I’m not a stalker.”

  She looped her arm in his, and they started for the door. Marcus reached for the knob.

  “I’m just a woman who likes to have fun,” Panthea said as they strolled arm in arm toward the elevator. Marcus didn’t say a word until he reached the elevator and extended his hand.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Daniels.”

  “You as well, Mr. Douglas. I’ll expect Mr. Mason’s call,” Panthea said and stepped on the elevator.

  “I’ll be in touch,” Marcus said.

  “See that you do,” Panthea replied as the doors closed.

  When Marcus turned around, Janise was staring at him and smiling. “What?” he asked as he approached her desk.

  “She’s very pretty, but she’s no Carmen Taylor,” Janise said as he continued into his office.

  “That’s a closed case, Janise. Let’s keep it that way. Send Mr. Baker in when he gets here.”

  3

  Marcus closed the door to his office and returned to his desk to prepare for the next appointment. He fumbled through some papers, and then put them down. He leaned back in his chair.

  “Carmen Taylor,” he said out loud.

  He had met Carmen the day after the Ferguson trial ended. She was the victim’s sister, and the defendant Roland Ferguson was her brother-in-law. Once Ferguson was acquitted, Carmen demanded justice.

  “A little bit of justice for my sister, Mr. Douglas. That's what I'm asking for,” she said. “If Roland didn't kill her, fine. Somebody did! What bothers me is that nobody is interested in finding out who did.”

  Together, Marcus and Carmen began their own investigation, not the case that the prosecution presented, but into her sister’s dark and sometimes extremely sexual past. The investigation led the pair into a world of drugs, prostitution, money laundering, and murder, which the police seemed unwilling to pursue. Along the way, Marcus and Carmen found something in one another.

  “Carmen Taylor, you’re really beginning to interest me.”

  “That's good, Marcus Douglas, because you began to interest me some time ago.”

  For the next eight months, Marcus was very happy with Carmen. His divorce from Randa was final, and Marcus thought that his relationship with Carmen would last, but that wasn’t the case. Over time, Marcus noticed that Carmen seemed bored and a bit distracted. One night over dinner, Carmen surprised Marcus when she asked, “How would you feel if I started working again?”

  “I think that’s a great idea, Carmen. I know how much you love it,” Marcus said between mouthfuls, not knowing the full extent of what she was proposing.

  “What would you say if I was modeling in Europe?”

  Marcus put down his fork. “Why Europe, Carmen?”

  “That’s where the work is. That’s where my connections are.”

  “Why can’t you work here in Atlanta?”

  “Marcus, I’m thirty years old, working in an industry where most of my competition is ten years younger than me. I haven’t found anything here. My new agent doesn’t return my calls half the time. And when he finally has something for me, and I do go on those calls, I’m the oldest one there. I feel like I’m their mother.”

  “I didn’t know you had been out trying,” Marcus said. She could hear the disappointment creeping into his voice.

  “You’re a very busy man, Marcus. You’re gone every day, all day. I needed something to do, other than hang out with my mother,” Carmen explained.

  A week later she had sublet her condo and was on her way back to Europe. At first, Marcus talked to Carmen every day. Since there was a six-hour time difference, Carmen had to set her alarm for five A.M. so she would catch Marcus in bed. She said it was a way for them to be in bed together. They would spend hours talking until either Marcus fell asleep or she had to get up. However, as Carmen got more work and shoots began early, her calls became less frequent and were never as long.

  They continued to speak every day. The calls usually consisted of a rundown of their day, plans to talk later, apologies for not calling the night before, and then, “I love you,” Marcus would say.

  “I love you more,” Carmen would reply. “We’ll speak later?”

  “Definitely,” Marcus would say with a promise, and then they would both hang up, getting back to their separate lives.

  After his last appointment had gone, Marcus was preparing to go home for the evening when
Janise called. “I have Garrett Mason on line one for you,” she announced.

  “Thanks, Janise,” Marcus replied and picked up the call.

  Garrett Mason used to be a detective for the city of Atlanta police, but he got caught up in a corruption scandal. He was a good cop who simply got involved in something that wasn’t what it seemed.

  Garrett had seen Marcus around the courthouse on occasions when he had to testify in a case. When his lawyer recommended that he plead guilty to a lesser charge and resign quietly for the good of the department, Garrett fired him and asked Marcus to defend him. He was eventually cleared of the charges, but the damage was done. He quit the force and went into business for himself as a private investigator. Garrett had done some work for Marcus, and over the years they'd become good friends.

  “This is Marcus.”

  “What’s up big dawg?”

  “Got something I need you to look into for me. That is if you’re not too busy.”

  “Never too busy for you, Marcus. What you got?” Garrett asked.

  “Nothing major, just a divorce case. Wife thinks her husband is cheating on her.”

  “Divorce, huh?” Garrett asked, obviously less than excited.

  “Yeah, divorce. You know, you follow the guy, see who he’s banging. Take some pictures; get some info on the woman—”

  “Do we at least know it’s a woman? You remember that one time,” Garrett cautioned.

  “She can’t say one way or the other, but it doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters when you’re the one taking the pictures,” Garrett joked. “I personally don’t wanna see that shit.”

  “I know what you’re saying,” Marcus agreed.

  “Who’s the guy?”

  “His name is Scott Daniels.”

  “Daniels—I’ve heard that name before. Who is he?”

  “He’s a big boy in the construction business. Recently moved in to real estate developing. His company developed that property on North Avenue.”

  There was a fairly long pause before Garrett finally spoke. “Let me ask you a question, Marcus.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Do you really need me on this one? Because if you do, I’m on it first thing in the morning. But if you don’t need me, I got some other things going on.”

  “No, Garrett, don’t sweat it. Like I said, this is nothing major. This is just me sending you a paying customer.”

  “And I always appreciate that, but I tell you what I will do, especially since it’s nothing major, I’m breaking in a new operative.”

  “What happened to Jamara?” Marcus asked of another of Garrett’s operatives, who was very instrumental in the money laundering aspects of the Ferguson case.

  “Nothing happened to her. I only used her on cases that require her special talents. This new chick’s name is Olivia Wayne. She’s good. I’ve tried her out on a few things. Ex-cop, got good instincts, born and raised here so she knows the streets. What I like best about her, and I think will be very useful in surveillance operations, is that she blends.”

  “What do you mean, ‘she blends’?” Marcus asked.

  “I mean she blends in well. Like you might see, but don’t notice her is what I’m saying. You’ll understand when you meet her.”

  “I understand. I’ll have Janise e-mail you the information, and you can have Olivia call Mrs. Daniels and get things started.”

  “Sounds good to me. If she works out, Olivia can handle this sort of thing and you save me for the big stuff. You know; the juicy murder stuff. That’s more my speed,” Garrett said definitely.

  “You got it.”

  4

  That very next afternoon, Olivia Wayne sat in her 1998 Honda Accord, outside the Roswell offices of New Horizon Realty. After meeting with Garrett, she had spoken with Panthea Daniels and had gotten all the information she needed to get started.

  When Garrett called her the night before and offered her the job, she was excited. At that point, any offer of work was welcomed, but when he explained that it was for Marcus Douglas, and that if she did a good job it could lead to more work, she was hyped.

  It wasn’t an easy decision for her to quit the police force and go out on her own. She was a good cop and she knew it. Nothing would have made her happier in life than to be promoted to detective. But after years of waiting, Olivia finally decided that the day would never come, and she would continue to be passed over. She always felt like part of her problem in advancing in the police department was that she was a black woman, a little on the heavy side, not the prettiest and unwilling to compromise on her self-respect.

  It hadn’t been easy since she opened her own office. Once her first client got the information he had hired Olivia to get, he announced he couldn’t pay. The same situation occurred with her second client, only this one refused to pay because the information wasn’t what they were expecting.

  On her first paying assignment, Olivia was hired to work undercover at a clothing store to figure out who was stealing. That one was simple, because everyone who worked there was stealing.

  After that, things were slow and Olivia considered taking a job as a security guard until things picked up. Fortunately, she met Garrett before she had to make that choice.

  It was past one o'clock and Olivia was starting to get hungry. She was so excited about meeting Garrett to get this assignment that she skipped breakfast. She was wondering if Scott Daniels would leave the office anytime soon and give her a chance to grab something.

  It was almost two-thirty when Scott Daniels came out of his office and went to his car. Since Olivia had only spoken with Panthea and gotten a description of him, she couldn’t be absolutely sure that it was him until he got in his car.

  Olivia snapped a few quick shots with her camera, before starting up her car and following Scott’s Lexus. She only hoped that lunch was part of Scott’s afternoon agenda. Without any problems at all, Olivia was able to follow Scott to downtown Atlanta.

  He got off I-75/85 at the 17th Street exit, turned on Peachtree Street and again on Peachtree Walk and went into the Oceanaire Seafood Room. “Thank God,” Olivia said as she followed Scott into the parking lot. “I was about to starve.”

  She watched from her car as Scott valet parked his car and waited for him to go inside the restaurant before getting out and following him in.

  “Good afternoon. Table for one?” the maitre d asked and escorted her to a table.

  After insisting on the table that she wanted, one with an unobstructed view of Scott. Olivia put on a pair of photosensitive glasses with a micro-miniature camera. The images could be recorded using a standard video recorder or fed into a video transmitter that she kept in her car.

  From the moment Olivia entered Oceanaire, she felt like she was on a classic 1930s ocean liner. Since she was expensing the entire meal, she ordered the Black and Bleu, Blue Marlin Steak with sweet onion confit and Roquefort Butter while she waited to see who would join Scott Daniels for lunch.

  Olivia had just finished her salad when Scott sprang to his feet and a woman walked up to Scott’s table. Olivia took time stamped pictures as he hugged and kissed the woman lightly on the lips and held out for chair as she sat.

  The woman was quite pretty, Olivia thought as she snapped pictures of her. The woman was tall, five-eight, maybe five-nine with shoulder-length hair, which appeared to be her own. She was approximately one hundred and fifty pounds and no identifying marks that Olivia could see from her vantage point.

  After Mr. Daniels and his guest finished their meals, Olivia followed them to the Ritz Carlton Hotel. She was able to get pictures of them walking arm in arm into the hotel, a shot of them standing together at the counter and one of them going into the elevator. Olivia went into the bar in the hotel and had a seat, waiting until they came down.

  A little over an hour later, Olivia was able to get a picture of the couple exiting the elevator, arm in arm once again. After which Scott drove his lunch guest
back to Oceanaire. Olivia took more shots of Scott walking his guest back to her brand new 300 horsepower-twin turbo charged BMW 3 Series Convertible. “Oh, no she don’t. I don’t like that bitch already,” Olivia commented as she snapped more pictures.

  After Scott returned to his car, Olivia followed the BMW to some condos off of North Avenue. The same condos that Scott’s company had recently built. She looked on as the woman got out of her car and approached the mailboxes. The woman opened her box, went through the mail, sorting out the items of junk mail and useless newspapers, and then threw them in the trash before returning to her car.

  Olivia followed the woman to her building and watched as she entered a unit. Once Olivia had an address, she immediately returned to the trashcan at the mailbox and went through the items until she found what she was looking for.

  “Abril Arrington.”

  5

  That same afternoon, Marcus was in his office reviewing the notes he had made for his upcoming case. Marcus was confident that he had an excellent chance of proving that the prosecutor in the case was excluding jurors based solely on their race. He had just decided to call it a night when Janise called.

  “I have Panthea Daniels for you on line two.”

  “Did she say what it was in reference to, Janise?”

  “No, Marcus. Just that she wanted to speak with you. Should I tell her you’re in a meeting?”

  “No, Janise, I’ll talk to her,” Marcus told his secretary. Once he put away his papers, Marcus picked up the line. “Marcus Douglas.”

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Douglas. This is Panthea Daniels, how are you today?”

  “I’m doing just fine, Mrs. Daniels. What about you?”

  “I’m fine. Thank you very much for asking. I know you’re a very busy man, so I will get to the reason I called. I wanted to let you know that Mr. Mason, the investigator you told me would call, didn’t. However, a woman name Olivia Wayne called. She said she was contracted by you and that I could give her the information about my husband Scott.”