Chapter Twelve #2
Stefanie sipped more coffee as she gazed at Campbell and thought about their latest night of passion and what it meant in moving ahead in their relationship.
She was all in with him in seeing where this went.
He had made her believe that he felt the same way and wanted this to work out, well beyond the red-hot sex between them.
This gave her confidence that their journey had only just begun, with lots of blue skies and symmetry ahead for them.
Campbell met her eyes and grinned. “You’re gorgeous,” he stated once again, as though he couldn’t help himself.
Stefanie blushed. “I never tire of hearing that,” she had to admit.
“Good, because I intend to keep reminding you of one of the many great elements that has me hooked.”
“Umm…” She gave a soft smile, allowing that to sink in graciously.
Clutching his coffee mug, Campbell said, thoughtful, “So, do you think Jasmine is coming? Or was she prevented from doing so by the Braison Family?”
Stefanie suspected that the second question was more rhetorical in nature, even if a legitimate concern. “I know she wants to talk to you, even if she’s afraid to do so. I can call her, if you want…”
Before he could respond, Campbell’s own cell phone rang. He removed it from the side pocket of his blazer, glanced at it and said, “I better get this—”
Stefanie nodded and looked on as he listened to and spoke with someone from the police department. He exchanged a few more words as a distressed expression spread across this face, then told the person he was on his way and disconnected.
“What is it?” Stefanie asked, peering at him.
“Some disturbing news…” Campbell sucked in a deep breath and answered soberly, “An African American female’s body has been found in Reston Hills Park.” He ran a hand across his mouth. “The dead woman has tentatively been identified as Braison Family member Jasmine Roxburgh…”
Stefanie’s jaw dropped as the gravity of what she’d just heard weighed on her. Jasmine dead? How? Had someone from the Braison Family come after her to prevent her from talking to Campbell? Or was there another reason why she, like Mia, was now dead?
* * *
CAMPBELL WOULD HAVE preferred to take Stefanie back to her house en route to the crime scene.
But, as he expected, she would have none of it—insisting on accompanying him to the park.
She had blamed herself prematurely for Jasmine’s death.
He had strongly pushed back against that, certain that whatever the cause—especially if criminal in intent—the onus would lie on entirely whoever was responsible.
Stefanie had acquiesced to this, more or less, even as Campbell contemplated the latest casualty to befall a member of the Braison Family.
He glanced at Stefanie in the passenger seat and warned nevertheless, “Let’s not jump to any conclusions.”
She blinked. “If you mean beyond the fact that Jasmine’s dead, I’ll try not to.”
“All right.” Campbell felt that was the best he could hope for, for the time being.
He turned back to the windshield, wondering if it had been wise to agree to meet with Jasmine clandestinely rather than in a police interview room.
But since she had already spoken with Stefanie and might have had something useful to offer in the investigation into Mia O’Dell’s death, it seemed like good idea.
Particularly when Mia was reluctant to go on record officially with potential repercussions from the Braison Family.
Campbell could only wonder if Jasmine had found herself caught in such a trap with no way out.
When they arrived at Reston Hills Park and got close to the area where the body was discovered, Detective Georgina Alvarez was waiting there to greet them.
“Hey,” she said flatly, having been the one to identify Jasmine after discovering a tote bag with her driver’s license near the scene where her body was found.
“Hey.” Campbell introduced Georgina to Stefanie and vice versa, knowing that the detective was aware of their ongoing personal relationship.
“Stefanie and Jasmine were friends,” he said, to explain Stefanie’s presence at a potential crime scene.
“We were supposed to meet with Jasmine at a diner this morning to address her concerns about the Braison Family and Mia O’Dell’s drug overdose.
” He frowned. “But she never showed up…”
“I doubt she ever had a chance to.” Georgina sighed heavily. “Judging by her body—which was discovered by a woman who was walking her Finnish Lapphund dog—I’m guessing that Jasmine’s been dead for at least a few hours.”
Stefanie’s brow creased. “How?”
“That’ll be up to the coroner to determine,” Georgina replied.
Campbell nodded and cast his eyes at Stefanie. “You’ll need to wait here.” Aside from it being a possible crime scene that didn’t need to be disturbed, he saw no need to subject her to having to witness firsthand—up close and personal—another dead body.
Stefanie gave him an understanding look. “All right,” she uttered meekly.
He moved away from her, alongside Georgina, and headed toward the decedent, who was lying near a trail on the other side of the park from where Mia was discovered.
“There she is…” Georgina muttered.
Campbell trained his eyes on the nude body of Jasmine Roxburgh.
She was lying on her side on the grass in a fetal position—almost looking like she was taking a nap, with part of her blond Afro acting as a pillow.
Her toenails had green polish on them. There were no outward signs of trauma.
He noted the initials KB tattooed onto her right forearm, as if to remind him that Jasmine was a certified follower of Kenneth Braison—which may have cost Jasmine her life.
Campbell remarked instinctively, “I suspect that Jasmine, like Mia O’Dell, OD’d on fentanyl and carfentanil.”
Georgina nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. Once the coroner’s office confirms this, the next question is, where did she get the drug or drugs, and was she a victim of drug abuse—or deliberately murdered?”
“Yeah.” Campbell gazed again at the attractive young woman whose voice had been forever silenced for one reason or another.
“It’s not a stretch to believe that however this plays out, Jasmine’s death is tied to Mia’s and their involvement with the Braison Family.
” And, by extension, the murder of Lynda Boxleitner, he told himself, sensing that the parallels could not be rejected out of hand.
Even when the proof had yet to be established.
“I’m in agreement with you there,” Georgina said firmly. “We just need to get the goods on Kenneth Braison or his cohorts to make the case.”
Campbell jutted his chin. “If it’s there, we’ll uncover it…” He turned to where Stefanie was still standing—anxious, no doubt. “I need to go fill her in.”
“Do it.” Georgina nodded. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry she’s being put through this—again…”
“Me too.” Campbell wished that weren’t the case, but it was the hand both he and Stefanie had been dealt. Now they needed to see it through—for better, hopefully, or worse.