Brooklyn, page 31
They arrived at the precinct on Tuesday morning and were pleased to find several reports from the Clove Lake Park case. With breakfast and coffee spread out in front of them, they sat together in their office, poring over the details of the reports, each of them frantically reading, eating, and silently flipping through the pages.
Finally, Lee tossed his trash away, set his coffee aside, and sat back with the reports laid out on the desk in front of him.
“No DNA underneath her fingernails, only fibers from a pair of brown gloves. No drugs in her system. Toxicology reports are all negative.”
Ramos nodded as he continued reading. “She had petechial hemorrhaging.”
He had seen that in a prior case. It had been a domestic violence call and police arrived to find that a woman had been strangled with a belt from behind by her abusive husband. That case had been early in Ramos’s career, so he remembered it well. He would never forget the tiny, popped blood vessels in the eyes and across the face of a victim who had been asphyxiated.
“Medical examiner says that manual pressure—the killer’s fingers pressed against the throat—was the method used to kill her. No semen, no blood, hair, or saliva from the perp. Only the victim’s. She had bruises on her cheek, blows to the head, scratches on her stomach.”
Lee nodded. “Like Tony said. It’s consistent with her being dragged down the trail to her resting place.”
“He was right about the murder happening on the main trail, too. Check out the CSU report. They found the victim’s urine in that area where the blood and footprint were found. She died there, released her bodily fluid, and then got dragged to the wooded area.”
“Sounds like the killer is a man,” Lee said. “I can’t imagine too many women who would have enough strength or time to do all of this.”
Lee huffed. “My wife has a black belt in jiujitsu and she would disagree with you. I don’t want to rule anybody out yet,” he said. “It’s too early to make assumptions.”
He stared at the wall, deep in thought. “Is it a stranger, random predator? Or someone she knew and trusted?” He picked up a photo of the deceased from the file on his desk and looked at it long and hard. “What happened to you?”
Staten Island Advance
FEBRUARY 12, 2003
An unidentified woman whose body was found in an isolated area of Clove Lake Park was the victim of strangulation, according to the results of an autopsy that were released Tuesday.
The medical examiner determined the manner of death to be homicide. No signs of sexual assault were found during the autopsy. Police said the victim was discovered in Clove Lake Park just after 7 A.M. Monday. Shortly after, police found a second crime scene nearby with blood matching the victim’s.
Neighbors told Eyewitness News that police have increased their presence in the neighborhood in the wake of the crime. According to police sources, it is believed the woman was slain by her assailant on the southeast side of the park and was dragged to the location where the body was dumped prior to daybreak. Defensive wounds on the body suggest the victim put up a fight before she was ultimately killed.
So far, police have not been able to identify the victim, but they describe her as a five foot seven Black woman with a tattoo of a cross on her left wrist. No suspects have been named.
Police are asking anyone with information to contact them.
Ramos plopped the newspaper down on his desk.
Allison, a precinct clerk, knocked on the office door.
“There’s a woman here who wants to talk to you about the Clove Lake case.”
The detectives exchanged glances and leapt to their feet. They followed Allison to the lobby area of the precinct. A flurry of activity was going on as they neared the front desk.
“That’s her,” Allison said, discreetly. “In the brown coat.”
A slim caramel-skinned woman wearing a tan knitted hat and a brown wool coat stood with her hands clasped together in front of her, gripping a pair of gloves. A crossbody bag draped across her and she had a serene expression on her face. She watched them all closely as they approached.
Allison made the introductions, speaking gently and discreetly.
“Detectives Ramos and Lee are assigned to the case. This is Hope James-Kirkwood. She heard the news about the discovery in the park, and she thinks it might have something to do with her sister.”
“Nice to meet you,” Hope said, shaking hands with the detectives.
“Thank you for coming in,” Detective Lee said. “Let’s go back here and talk.”
He led the way to his office a short distance down the hall. Once inside, he gestured toward a seat and smiled at her.
“What made you come in today?”
Hope sat in the chair and tried to calm her nerves. Her voice shook a bit as she spoke.
“I read the story in the paper about the body you found in the park on Monday morning. I haven’t heard from my sister in a few days. She left town years ago and we didn’t keep in touch. But our father died this year. My sister surprised us all and came back to town a few days ago. It wasn’t a pleasant surprise.”
Hope looked at the detectives trying to gauge their reaction to what she had said so far. Detective Ramos stared back at her blankly. Lee nodded, urging her to go on.
She cleared her throat. “Not everybody was thrilled to see her.”
“Why not?” Detective Ramos asked.
“Old stuff,” she answered quickly. “Hurt feelings, that type of thing.”
“We need you to be more specific,” Detective Ramos said. “Was she on drugs?”
Detective Lee shot a piercing look in his partner’s direction.
“No. We grew up in the church. Our father was a pastor. Brooklyn was rebellious. She left the family behind years ago and didn’t look back. Until now. My father left us an inheritance. She came back looking for her share. My mother was upset and there was a confrontation. Brooklyn left and said that she was going to meet my mother and me the next day. But that was on Monday morning, and she never showed up. I haven’t heard from her since. I tried calling the cellphone number she gave me, but it goes straight to voicemail.”
Detective Lee nodded. “Okay. It’s possible that she was upset by the argument and left town. Where has she been living for the past few years?”
“Maryland, I believe. The number she gave me has a 410 area code.” Hope watched as Detective Ramos walked to the desk and rifled through a file. “The article in the paper said something about a tattoo,” she said. “My sister had one like it. It had my brother’s initials in the center.”
The detectives locked eyes. They hadn’t released that detail to the public, but it was true.
“What were the initials?” Lee asked.
“AJ,” Hope said.
Her heart sank as she noted the change in the detectives’ demeanor. Ramos’s eyes widened. Lee looked at his partner intently.
She could sense the shift in energy, and she knew in her gut that her worst fears were about to be confirmed.
Ramos retrieved a picture from the file and looked at Hope. The woman was so petite and seemed so fragile. He prayed that she didn’t fall apart.
“We have a photo of the deceased,” he said. “I’ll warn you that it’s a graphic autopsy photo. Is there someone you want to call to be here with you?”
She pressed her lips together tightly and shook her head.
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yes. Please let me see it.”
He set it down face up on the desk in front of her. He watched as Hope leaned in and stared at it for long silent moments. When she looked up at him again, her eyes were full of tears. She wiped them away quietly with the tissue Detective Lee offered her and nodded.
“That’s her.”
They gave her a few moments to gather herself as she cried silently.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Detective Lee set the photo aside and touched her gently on the arm. “I can imagine how hard this must be for you.”
“She was strangled?” Hope was nearly breathless as she asked the question.
“Yes. The autopsy came back with that result.”
She let out a sob, then closed her eyes and hung her head in disbelief.
Ramos pulled up a chair and sat close to her.
“I don’t mean to add to your pain. But I gotta be honest with you. We haven’t had any similar crimes in the area recently. Your sister wasn’t sexually assaulted. She had some jewelry on, so we don’t know if robbery is a likely motive. This doesn’t seem random. Strangulation is personal. It’s not a quick and easy thing. This appears to be a targeted killing by someone she knew. Somebody who was angry with her. Do you have any idea who could possibly be that mad at your sister?”
Hope’s eyes darted in Detective Ramos’s direction.
“Mad enough to kill her?” She huffed a little at the irony of such a question. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
ALSO BY TRACY BROWN
Hold You Down
Single Black Female
Criminal Minded
White Lines
Twisted
Snapped
Aftermath
White Lines II: Sunny
White Lines III: All Falls Down
Boss
ANTHOLOGIES
Flirt
About the Author
Tracy Brown is the Essence bestselling author of Boss; White Lines III: All Falls Down; White Lines II: Sunny; Aftermath; Snapped; Twisted; White Lines; Criminal Minded; Black; and Dime Piece. She passed away two days after turning in this final, arguably her best, book. You can sign up for email updates here.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
In Loving Memory
The End
Chapter One: Church Girl
Chapter Two: Drifting
Chapter Three: Money-Making Manhattan
Chapter Four: Revelations
Chapter Five: Forgive Them, Father
Chapter Six: Runaway
Chapter Seven: The Family
Chapter Eight: Baltimore
Chapter Nine: Tainted Love
Chapter Ten: New Levels
Chapter Eleven: Double Take
Chapter Twelve: Whirlwind
Chapter Thirteen: Castaway
Chapter Fourteen: No Place like Home
Chapter Fifteen: Reaping
Chapter Sixteen: Stormy Weather
Also by Tracy Brown
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
First published in the United States by St. Martin’s Griffin, an imprint of St. Martin’s Publishing Group
BROOKLYN. Copyright © 2024 by Tracy Brown. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Publishing Group, 120 Broadway, New York, NY 10271.
www.stmartins.com
Cover design by Ervin Serrano
Cover illustration by Destiny Darcel
eISBN 9781250834966
Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.
First Edition: 2024
Tracy Brown, Brooklyn
