CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“May I ask you a question?”
“You may ask me anything you like sweetheart.” RJ drove through the streets of Belgrave with intent on his mind. When he heard that she was at the chief’s house last night when the chief wouldn’t even allow his own men to come anywhere near that precious house of his, he knew then he wasn’t delaying any longer. He was getting his. “As long as it’s not about me,” he added, chuckling.
Marti smiled, too, although she viewed him as the leader of the department’s good old boys’ network. But she needed info and saw him, a true insider, as her best opportunity. The little she knew about Captain Jeffers, based on bits and pieces of conversations she’d heard while walking around observing all day, was that he was married to a white woman, had kids, and slept around as if he was the most eligible bachelor in town.
And it wasn’t just him. Everybody on that force appeared to be just like him, from what she was hearing. Including the chief – she was willing to bet. Although they didn’t say much about the chief. But that was probably because he kept his private life private, while his men were plotting and planning their latest escapades even as they worked on a horrific crime scene. “Just general questions,” she said to RJ.
“Then ask away.”
“Why hasn’t the chief hired more African Americans on the force?”
“Ah.” He nodded his head. “Or women, right?”
“Right.”
“He would hire them all day long if it was left up to him. He’s that kind of dude. But he can’t. He doesn’t do the hiring.”
That was news to Marti. “Then who does?”
“The members of the Belgrave Oversight Board. The BOBs as we call them. They do all the hiring. Grant can fire at will. He wouldn’t take the job without that particular power, although I’ve yet to see him use it until today.”
This interested Marti. “He’s never fired anyone before today?”
“Never. And there’s been tons of times he should have used that power, in my humble opinion. But when they shot at you? Oh no. They had to go then. He got rid of those jokers right on the spot.” He laughed and looked at Marti. “You must have that special sauce girl.”
Marti ignored his flirtatiousness. “Why would he agree to let some board dictate who’ll be on his police force though?”
“It was out of his hands. The chief before him did his own hiring. But he was hiring a bunch of Klan members who acted as if they were his personal vendetta squad, and he hired drug dealers that gave him kickbacks from their illicit trade. And I’m talking hardcore drug people. The kind of people you wouldn’t hire to mow your lawn, let alone police your city. They fired that chief before the FBI got called in, and then the city took the hiring power out of the hands of any future chief. They passed a referendum that a board of citizens would do all the hiring in the police department. And the Belgrave Oversight Board, or BOB, was created. And they can overrule any firing the chief does too. So stay tuned,” he said with a smile.
Marti shook her head. “Wow. That’s a lot of power invested in one board.”
“They love it. They’re the city’s power brokers.”
“But who are they exactly?”
“A bunch of rich white guys just like the chief.”
Marti looked at RJ. Because that was her main question. Was the chief rich organically, or because of corruption? That was what Marti needed to know. “I was wondering how a police chief in a town this size could afford to drive around in a Maybach.”
“Oh he’s rich. A Maybach ain’t no big deal to Grant McGraw. So get that out of your pretty little head.”
Marti didn’t know how to take that comment. Was he assuming her to be interested in the chief? “Get what out of my head?”
“Corruption,” said RJ. “Grant is a lot of things, but he’s no crooked cop. Can’t nobody buy him. He can buy this whole town if he wanted to, but can’t nobody buy him. He made millions in the tech industry out in California. But something happened and he sold his company and moved back home. Belgrave is his hometown. Mine too.”
“What happened? Why did he sell his company and come back home?”
“Nobody knows. He doesn’t talk about it and I’m sure you’ve already figured out that you don’t just go up to Grant McGraw and ask him personal stuff like that. But he’s been back for eight years now, and he’s been chief for six.”
Interesting, Marti thought. Then she had another thought. What does his men think of his leadership? “Is he a good cop?” she asked RJ.
RJ hesitated on that question. “He tends to run the police force like he probably ran his tech company. He gives out assignments and expect his men to get it done. Does he hold their hands and make them do it right? No. Does he check to make sure they did it right? No. That’s my job and the other senior staff. He delegates. That’s what he does.”
“And that’s why you have a horrible exoneration rate.”
RJ nodded. “I can’t disagree with you there. He’s good peeps. Don’t get me wrong. But he’s checked out too.”
“Since when?”
“Since he been here. He’s never checked in if you ask me. But he’s no crooked cop if that’s what you’re fishing for. And he doesn’t tolerate it either.”
For some reason, Marti was pleased to hear it. He wasn’t some backwater cop who didn’t give a damn, but a man of depth. She’d never admit it publicly, but she liked Chief McGraw. He was gruff and hard around the edges for sure, but to Marti there was a decency, an elegance about him that elevated him from your run-of-the-mill copper. She’d already seen that.
But if RJ was right, the man she liked was also a millionaire when she had assumed he owned that big house and fancy car because he was on the take. It made her feel kind of intimidated if she was to tell herself the truth. She’d never been around a man with big money like that. She’d never had dinner with one, never had one dry her clothes – including her panties! Never had one blow-dry her hair or defend her honor when the mayor of this town all but called her a slut. Or hugged her in a grocery store when she needed a hug.
But hearing RJ made her realize just how amazing their chief might actually be. Because, in truth, no man had ever treated her as well as Grant McGraw treated her. Not even her ex-husband when they were still in love. Or at least when she was still in love. She found out love was never on his agenda. Just lust and bragging rights as he called them. But those were the kind of men, throughout her life, she gravitated to. Never one like the chief.
RJ glanced over at her. “We’ve been talking a lot about the chief,” he said. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“I heard the AG isn’t paying those consultants much money at all. Like just above minimum wage or something like that.”
“And?”
“ And why would an accomplished sister like you want a thankless, nothing job like that? Why aren’t you still a cop?”
“Not interested any longer.”
“Why not?”
She wasn’t about to tell her life story to a man who didn’t want to get into her heart, but into her panties. “No longer interested.”
RJ nodded his head. She could dish it, but she couldn’t take it. She was happy to put everybody else under the microscope, but not her own damn self. But he had a cure for that. One round with him and she’d be confessing all night long. It never failed.
“We’re here,” he said as he turned another corner and drove into the parking lot of the Hilton Garden Inn hotel. “I’ll walk you up,” he added as he got out and then hurried around and opened the car door for her. Which made her inwardly smile. If he thought she was going to give it up to some married man, he had the wrong sister. But with a good-looking brother like Captain Jeffers, who was probably accustomed to getting his way with women, she knew she had to show it rather than tell it. She allowed him to escort her up to her hotel room.
But once they made it to her hotel room door, she turned, smiled, and extended her hand. “Thanks for the lift,” she said.
RJ took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he held it. “Your hand is so small in my hand,” he said, looking down at how his big hand smothered hers. “You know what they say,” he said, as he looked back up at her.
“About what?”
“About a brother with big hands.”
Marti removed her hand from his grasp. “No, I haven’t heard that one,” she said, and they both laughed.
But she used her keycard to unlock her door. “Have a good one, Captain Jeffers.”
“But aren’t you going to invite me in?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m going to take myself a shower and call it a night. I’m drained.”
She could see the disappointment in his eyes. He was pissed. “Can I at least use the restroom before I have to make that long drive back?” That was always one of his go-to lines that never missed.
Except this time. “There’s a rest room downstairs,” she said to him. “Have a nice rest of your evening,” she added, went into the room, and closed and locked the door behind her.
RJ stood there momentarily fuming. “I know this bitch didn’t just close that door in my face,” he muttered to himself. But when she didn’t open it back up claiming that she was joking, he realized his go-to line fell flat. And he left the corridor.
Still fuming when he got off the elevator and walked outside, he didn’t expect to see Grant getting out of his car and heading toward the entrance. “What are you doing here?” he asked him.
Grant was inwardly fuming himself. “I thought I told you to stay away from her.”
“I just gave her a ride back to her hotel room.”
“And?”
“And nothing. A waste of my time. And yours too. That chick ain’t opening that store for nobody. You can forget that,” he added, as he headed back to his car.
Grant could feel his tense body sigh relief. The entire drive over was filled with rage that some player like RJ would coax her into sleeping with him the way every woman he’d ever asked slept with him, and he’d give her nothing in return but a broken heart. When even Grant could tell she’d had too many breaks already.
But Grant lingered until RJ drove off. He had to see for himself that Marti was okay, and that RJ really hadn’t hurt her feelings or tried anything untoward with her.
But mainly he just wanted to see her again.
He entered the hotel’s lobby.