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Authors: Gwyneth Bolton
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yeah, he’s got it bad and that ain’t good.” Jason kept talking trash as he walked away from the desk.
Lawrence picked up the phone and dialed the Los Angeles Police Department. It was time to get some answers about Minerva Jones.
She raked her fingers through her hair and wished she could rip out the red hair extensions. She just knew something from that cruddy mattress had taken up residence in her hair.
Ewww.
She moved to scratch her arms and her torso before taking her digging fingers back to her head.
Yuk.
She couldn’t believe that cop had kept her there all night. It wasn’t as if she had another place to go, but she could have thought of lots of places that would have been better than this crusty cell.
She would have to burn her clothes, take a steaming hot shower and wash the glued-in extensions out of her hair. She only hoped that would get rid of any of the bugs or parasites she was sure had moved from the cot to her body. The clanging of the cell door caused her to look up and stop midscratch.
“So, Minerva Athena Jones …Did you sleep well?” The detective walked into the cell with a sly smirk on his face and his arms folded across his chest. The only saving grace was his slightly bloodshot eyes and wrinkled clothes from the day before showed he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep, either.
Since he had addressed her by her real name, he must have been able to pull up something about her when he ran her fingerprints. She glared at him and scratched her head. As soon as she got out of there and got the heebie jeebies off her, she would plan a slow and painful demise for the detective. Right now, she just had to get out of this cruddy cell.
“So you must have pulled my juvenile record. Way to go, Detective! Although, last time I checked, getting busted for shoplifting when you were fifteen doesn’t make you a murderer.”
“Yeah, but boosting as possible gang initiation activity? Hmmm…What does that tell us about your relationship to the deceased, two known members of the Crips? What does that make you, Minerva? A Cripette? Were you here to help them build up the gang here? Were their murders gang activity gone bad?” He leaned against the cell and kept his gaze planted on her.
“I’m not in a gang. I failed my initiation. You know, getting caught and all. And once my brother found out…” She stopped herself.
This is exactly why I didn’t need to be around this pit bull of a detective. It would only be a matter of time before he gets all the information I’ve been trying to hide.
“Your brother…That would be Calvin Jones?” He arched his eyebrow in that annoying know-it-all way of his. “Known gang member…High-level Crip? He was recently murdered and the LAPD have been looking for you to question you about that, but you disappeared. Right?”
She would have leaned back against the wall but the fear of what might get on her if she did stopped her. She needed something to hold her up, though. That’s what happened when it felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. She eyed the floor.
Was that red stuff blood? And what was that brown… Yuk .
She carefully rested one shoulder against the wall only bracing herself enough so that she didn’t end up on the floor.
“Minerva, do you care to tell me why the McKnight twins and your brother were murdered execution-style? What are you holding back from the investigation and why are you hiding? I can’t help you if you’re not upfront.”
“Whatever mess Calvin was in will get me killed too if they think I’m talking to the police.”
“And what kind of mess was he in?”
“I don’t know. All I know is these people have people inside the LAPD. I came to Jersey so that they wouldn’t think I was talking. But I really don’t know anything. My brother never let me in on that side of his life. When I was fifteen and almost joined the gang, that was the closest I ever came to his world. He only hit me once in
Lawrence picked up the phone and dialed the Los Angeles Police Department. It was time to get some answers about Minerva Jones.
She raked her fingers through her hair and wished she could rip out the red hair extensions. She just knew something from that cruddy mattress had taken up residence in her hair.
Ewww.
She moved to scratch her arms and her torso before taking her digging fingers back to her head.
Yuk.
She couldn’t believe that cop had kept her there all night. It wasn’t as if she had another place to go, but she could have thought of lots of places that would have been better than this crusty cell.
She would have to burn her clothes, take a steaming hot shower and wash the glued-in extensions out of her hair. She only hoped that would get rid of any of the bugs or parasites she was sure had moved from the cot to her body. The clanging of the cell door caused her to look up and stop midscratch.
“So, Minerva Athena Jones …Did you sleep well?” The detective walked into the cell with a sly smirk on his face and his arms folded across his chest. The only saving grace was his slightly bloodshot eyes and wrinkled clothes from the day before showed he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep, either.
Since he had addressed her by her real name, he must have been able to pull up something about her when he ran her fingerprints. She glared at him and scratched her head. As soon as she got out of there and got the heebie jeebies off her, she would plan a slow and painful demise for the detective. Right now, she just had to get out of this cruddy cell.
“So you must have pulled my juvenile record. Way to go, Detective! Although, last time I checked, getting busted for shoplifting when you were fifteen doesn’t make you a murderer.”
“Yeah, but boosting as possible gang initiation activity? Hmmm…What does that tell us about your relationship to the deceased, two known members of the Crips? What does that make you, Minerva? A Cripette? Were you here to help them build up the gang here? Were their murders gang activity gone bad?” He leaned against the cell and kept his gaze planted on her.
“I’m not in a gang. I failed my initiation. You know, getting caught and all. And once my brother found out…” She stopped herself.
This is exactly why I didn’t need to be around this pit bull of a detective. It would only be a matter of time before he gets all the information I’ve been trying to hide.
“Your brother…That would be Calvin Jones?” He arched his eyebrow in that annoying know-it-all way of his. “Known gang member…High-level Crip? He was recently murdered and the LAPD have been looking for you to question you about that, but you disappeared. Right?”
She would have leaned back against the wall but the fear of what might get on her if she did stopped her. She needed something to hold her up, though. That’s what happened when it felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. She eyed the floor.
Was that red stuff blood? And what was that brown… Yuk .
She carefully rested one shoulder against the wall only bracing herself enough so that she didn’t end up on the floor.
“Minerva, do you care to tell me why the McKnight twins and your brother were murdered execution-style? What are you holding back from the investigation and why are you hiding? I can’t help you if you’re not upfront.”
“Whatever mess Calvin was in will get me killed too if they think I’m talking to the police.”
“And what kind of mess was he in?”
“I don’t know. All I know is these people have people inside the LAPD. I came to Jersey so that they wouldn’t think I was talking. But I really don’t know anything. My brother never let me in on that side of his life. When I was fifteen and almost joined the gang, that was the closest I ever came to his world. He only hit me once in
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