Death by Trial and Error (A Legal Suspense Short) (6 page)

She thought about Roberto. She'd been told he
had been released from custody. Without her testimony, the case had
gone out the window. Like a parakeet freed from its cage.

When it came right down to it, Lucie knew she
couldn't testify against Roberto. Though she was afraid of him, and
the beatings had become more frequent and more violent in recent
months as his alcohol abuse grew worse, she loved him. She couldn't
help it any more than a mother could help loving her son, no matter
what he did to hurt her.

Roberto was the only man she had ever loved.
The only one who didn't run away at the first opportunity another
piece of ass came into view. For that she was grateful. The rest
just came with the territory as far as she was concerned.

Still, Lucie wondered what awaited her when
she got home. Would Roberto take it out on her because he had been
in police custody? Would he want her back now that she was badly
bruised and broken and didn't look anything at all like the pretty
Latina who had captured his attention in the beginning?

Lucie winced again before the sedative began
to take effect and she drifted off into a restless sleep. Her last
thought was that maybe she would awaken and find it had all been an
awful dream.

Deep down inside she knew otherwise.

Chapter Two

Roberto Martinez was counting his blessings
as he sat in the bar getting drunk. He had been staring at twenty
to life, according to his Afro American public defender. He figured
that he'd be lucky if he ever saw the light of day again while he
was young enough to be able to appreciate it.

But the devil must have been watching over
his shoulder. Here he was out amongst the living again, and there
wasn't a damned thing anyone could do about it.

He thought about his old lady. Yeah, he'd
beaten the hell out of her. But, dammit, she deserved it. They all
did. Especially when they opened their big mouths too much and
their legs too little. It was the only way to keep them in line.
All whores needed to be kept in line, one way or the other.

Roberto Martinez finished off his last shot
of whiskey before winking at the sweet looking black broad wearing
shades in the corner while imagining what he could do with her,
then moseying out of the bar. The night was cool for this time of
year and darker than most. Stars seemed to have disappeared, as if
relinquishing their place in space for other solar systems.

Roberto had half staggered about a block when
he heard footsteps behind him. He turned and saw a tall, stacked,
dark skinned woman with a blonde wig of box braids almost on top of
him. He remembered she was the broad in the bar sitting all by her
lonesome at the end of the counter. Only she was without the
sunglasses, so he could see her eyes. They were deep, dark,
enchanting. Just like the bitch herself.

"You looking for some action, honey?" she
asked in a voice that sounded vaguely familiar.

He studied her. She had on a tight red dress
that hugged every curve of her statuesque body, red gloves, and
stiletto shoes. She was obviously a hooker. Why the hell not? It
wasn't like his old lady was at home waiting to greet him or
anything.

He grinned. "Yeah, I'm looking for some
action, baby. How much will it cost?" He figured she was worth
maybe twenty. Twenty-five if she was real good to him.

"Keep your money," she said curtly. "Let's
just say I'm in a generous mood tonight."

Roberto regarded her uneasily. Was this some
kind of a setup or something? Were they trying to get him back
behind bars? Trying to trick him into doing something stupid on
account of what he did to Lucie and got away with it?

"You ain't a cop, are you?" he asked
tentatively.

She placed a hand on her rounded hip. "Do I
look like a cop to you, sugar?"

Roberto grinned again. "Not like any damned
cop I've seen," he had to admit.

"Then why are we wasting time here
jawing?"

He felt at ease again. His libido was
admittedly in need of a quick fix.

"Yeah," he said. "Why are we? Your place or
mine?"

"Neither." She pointed toward the alley. "In
there."

He looked into the darkened alley. It was
hardly the ideal place to get laid. But who was he to argue? He
could get his rocks off just about anywhere.

"Lead the way," he told her.

He followed the whore to the back of the
alley, where she leaned up against a wall and urged him on.

"Come and get it, big boy," she teased.

Roberto could hardly contain himself as he
rushed towards her. He only noticed at the last moment that she had
picked up something with lightning quick speed and swung it hard at
his head. He felt the impact as his skull cracked, sending him to
his knees. The pain cut through him like a sharp knife. Make that a
dozen sharp knives.

"How does it feel?" she asked him, a suddenly
wicked edge to her voice. Before he could even think past the pain,
much less respond, she struck him again with what he now suspected
was a wooden bat. This time it connected across his back, smashing
into his spine, paralyzing him. "Does it feel good, asshole?"

She swung the bat like an All Star baseball
player, landing flush against his right cheek, dislodging his jaw
and most of the teeth on that side of his face.

"Isn't this what you like to do to women,
Roberto?" she spat, clubbing him across the top of the head,
crushing his skull. "Well, how about a taste of your own medicine,
you bastard!"

She swung again and again, each blow
shattering another part of him, sending blood, bone, brain, and
body pieces flying everywhere.

By the time she was finished, he was long
dead. But it didn't matter, for she received great satisfaction to
see to it that even in death he would never be whole again. Just
like the lover he had beaten to a pulp.

She tossed the bloodied bat atop the corpse.
Then she removed her wig, gloves, dress, and shoes. She put them in
a duffel bag, slipped on some jeans, a sweater, and tennis shoes,
leaving Roberto Martinez's remains to rot like raw meat.

* * *

Read the entire Justice Served, available in
eBook, print, and audio.

# # #

The following is a bonus excerpt from R.
Barri Flowers' bestselling mystery series

DEAD IN
PUKALANI: An Eddie Naku Maui Mystery

Prologue

Hawaiian music filtered through the speakers
on this humid August evening as Suzette Higuchi-Bordeau sat in the
Great Room of her contemporary home on Hololani Street in Pukalani,
a census-designated region in Maui County, Hawaii. Located on the
slopes of the East Maui Volcano, Haleakalā, in an area that natives
of the island refer to as Upcountry, the upscale residence was
bordered by swaying palm trees and close to the Pukalani Golf
Course and Country Club.

Suzette sipped a Mai Tai beneath the swirling
ceiling fan as a cool breeze brought forth the aroma of eucalyptus.
She brushed away a strand of curly brunette hair from her face,
barely listening to the conversation in progress. In truth, her
mind was elsewhere. There were many things going on in her life at
once, some of which she had never meant to happen, others that were
beyond her control. Nonetheless, she had resigned herself to make
the best of both worlds, just as her husband Patrick had.

"Can I get you another drink, Suzette?" asked
one of the three men she had allowed into their home. He was white,
bald, and stocky, with a deep tan, having helped himself to the wet
bar, as had the other two men.

"No, I don't think so," she told him. She'd
never been able to handle her alcohol very well, and now was not
the time to test it, as she'd already had one drink before the men
arrived. "But feel free to help yourself to another," she offered.
"Patrick should be home any time now."

Her husband, Patrick Bordeau, the successful
lawyer.
Right.
What a joke
, Suzette thought. He'd
called earlier and said he was at the office and would be a bit
late, even though he was expecting the visit from his associates.
She had no doubt he was busy, but it was not with work. She'd
learned long ago to accept his infidelity, along with everything
else that was wrong with their marriage. It was all part of the
total package she'd become caught up in, mostly due to
circumstances. Suzette wasn't sure if she still loved Patrick, or
even if she ever truly had, but she was no longer committed to
staying with him and pretending to be the dutiful wife who would
always look the other way. Not when she now finally had another
choice that gave her hope for something that had eluded her for a
long time: happiness in a relationship. Or was that even possible?
Maybe she was only deluding herself that there really could be a
happy ending for two people who loved each other, no matter the
obstacles standing in their way.

The ringing of her cell phone jarred Suzette
from her thoughts. She pulled out the phone, looked at it for a
moment, then glanced toward her visitors. The bald, stocky one had
just come back with two drinks in hand, passing one to a white,
tall, thinner man with sandy hair. The other man was Asian and
small with a short black ponytail, still holding a drink. All three
were in their thirties and chattering amongst themselves as though
she were invisible. They barely seemed to notice her phone
ringing.

"I need to get this," she said anyway, as if
she needed an excuse to step away from the men. She moved toward
the gourmet kitchen, out of their line of vision. She could hear
her Rottweiler named Cherry whimpering behind the door of a spare
room, anxious to get out. As soon as her guests were gone, she
would let the dog out to roam freely throughout the house.

She engaged in a short conversation with the
caller, while peeking out at the men, who were still huddled
together, before disconnecting and rejoining them.

The Asian man gazed at her. "Everything all
right?"

"I have to go out," she said tersely.

"Where?" asked the tall, thin one.

"To see someone," she responded.

"Tucker Matsumoto?" the bald one asked
perceptively.

Suzette cocked a thin brow. How could he have
known that? But then she quickly realized they were probably
familiar with some of their other business associates through
Patrick.

"Yes," she responded, knowing that their
interests were indirectly represented here.

"I think we should follow you," he said,
"just in case you need back up."

She swallowed thickly. "That really won't be
necessary."

"We insist." The bald man's dark eyes
narrowed. "Matsumoto's not to be trusted. We wouldn't want anything
bad to happen to you."

Reluctantly, Suzette relented, feeling she
didn't have much choice. Nor was there time to wait for Patrick to
return home from his latest tryst.

Or course, their presence would change the
nature of the meeting a bit. But if she was able to accomplish her
primary goal, other things could wait till later.

* * *

Suzette drove her gray Lexus through the
streets of Pukalani, glancing in the rear view mirror at the three
men following her in a red F-150 pickup. She was a bit tense, under
the circumstances, but tried to remain calm.

Soon she pulled into a shopping center
parking lot on Old Haleakala Highway, well away from the stores,
and parked near a light. It was seven fifty-five p.m. She had been
told the meeting would take place at eight.

She watched as the pickup truck pulled into a
spot a few feet away from her. The men remained inside.

Suzette hoped their presence didn't scare off
Matsumoto. Or was that their plan?

She took out her cell phone and called
Patrick. It went straight to voicemail. Frustrated, she didn't
bother to leave a message.

"Damn you, Patrick," she muttered irritably,
jealous that he was likely bedding another woman at that exact
moment. She couldn't help herself, in spite of the fact that her
own romantic feelings and sexual yearnings lay elsewhere. She took
comfort in knowing that soon her life would change for the better
and she would no longer need to tolerate the pain Patrick had
caused her.

The knock on the partially open driver's side
window caused Suzette's heart to skip a beat. She turned and saw
Tucker Matsumoto's face. He was Hawaiian and had a thin
mustache.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he
snapped.

She caught her breath. "I think you
know."

Matsumoto cocked a brow. "He sent
you
to bring the money?"

She almost hated to disappoint him. "No, I'm
here to
collect
money—from you."

He frowned. "I owe you nothing."

"The merchandise you have says otherwise,
Matsumoto," she said boldly. "If you think you can screw us out of
payment—"

"You'll do what?" he said, cutting her off.
"Go to the cops?" He laughed derisively. "I don't think so."

Suzette was furious at his arrogance and
clear intention to stiff them. Just as she contemplated her next
move, a shot rang out, striking Matsumoto, who doubled over.
Another shot hit him and he went down.

Fearful that she might be next, Suzette
reached in her purse for her gun, which she kept for protection.
But it was too late. The crackling sound of gunfire, seemingly
louder than ever, rang through her ears. The sudden realization
that she'd been shot left her numb, then she felt her head
spinning, and suddenly everything was pitch black.

Chapter One

The vibrancy of laughter echoed throughout
the bedroom as Eddie Naku playfully nibbled on the neck of his
current romantic interest, Gayle Luciano, a flight attendant. They
were naked in bed making love on a steamy night. It was one of
those on again, off again relationships, where neither was ready to
make a real commitment and both were the better for it. Instead,
they got together when their conflicting schedules allowed and
their bodies lusted for one another.