Akoni handed the car keys to St. James.
"I'm coming. Let me holla at this nigga real quick". He walked toward Detective Carter.
"Alright. Bet". St. James nodded to Akoni and walked to the car.
"Akoni James. You've been good? Staying out of trouble, I hope?". Detective Carter shook Akoni's reluctant hand.
"I'm always good. Why what's up?" Akoni said with agitation.
"You've heard about what happened to your daughter's stepfather? I presume". Carter pulled off his cigar.
"Yeah. I just heard about it". Akoni watched Carter's face.
"How well did you know him?" Carter asked.
"Well enough". Akoni looked over at the other two detectives standing near the entrance of the hospital.
"I heard the two of you had a dispute a couple of weeks ago. You mind telling me what happened?" Carter pulled off the cigar again.
"He wanted me to help him with something. I did what he asked. He didn't pay. End of story." Akoni's face had begun to scowl.
"So there was an altercation over you not getting paid? Am I correct?" Carter bent down to put the cigar out on the ground.
"I mean if somebody employed you to do something and didn't pay you, wouldn't there be some sort of altercation?" He folded his arms defiantly at Carter.
"True. But it wouldn't have ended up in murder." Carter looked up at Akoni and smiled.
"Look bruh'. I see where this is going. I ain't had shit to do with what happened to that nigga. If you want to talk about this some other time, we can meet up but I ain't doing this shit here. Instead of talking to me, yall need to find out who killed that nigga. You know where to find me. I holla at you later". Akoni walked away from Carter and got into his car and drove off.
Lucinda and Neil walked over to Carter.
"That looks like it went well". Neil said jokingly.
"He's definitely hiding something. I'll find out soon enough. You guys get the report back about the surveillance cameras?" Carter looked over at Akoni's SUV leaving the parking lot.
"Yeah. We saw Mr. Randall's vehicle pull in at the ice cream shop. A woman parked on the other end of the parking lot and got in his car. We ran her plates. Her name is Leilani Randall." Neil scrunched his nose to keep his glasses from falling as he read off the small notepad.
"Leilani Randall? Is she an ex-wife or something?" Carter pinched the bridge of his nose.
"We don't know yet. I'm about to go back inside and talk to the victim. She should be awake now. I'm going to see if that name rings a bell". Mendez said as she walked back to the emergency room entrance.
"There's another thing. A car sat about a half a block from the church. We got the plates from the camera at the ice cream shop. The car belongs to a Rasheeda Harris". Neil looked up at Carter. "It sat for about 2 hours and left."
"No one got out of the car?" Carter asked Neil.
"Nope." Neil put his notepad in his pocket.
"Call whoever Rasheeda Harris is and find out the deal with her. I hope Natalie is awake. I need to know who gave Joseph the black eye." Carter and Neil walked back into the hospital.
______________________________________________________________________________
1 Week Before The Murder
Leeland Randall entered his father's apartment with a heavy heart. The smell of old newspapers and expensive cologne wafted harshly through his nose. His father had been dead one day and his presence still reverberated in the small dwelling that had been his home for 6 years. Leeland Sr. was a navy man. He used to keep his home, before the Alzheimers set in, as neat as a penny. The odd display of dirty dishes and paper are thrown about was not his father, it was the disease. He reached over at a picture of his father in the living room taken 50 years ago. A mirror image of himself smiling back. He wiped the tears from his eyes and proceeded to look for his father's will and testament.
Out of the 3 children born to Leeland Sr. and Gilda Randall, his father entrusted his finances to Leeland, the oldest. As a pastor and provider, Leeland exemplified goodness. He had shown his father time and time again his graciousness and loyalty. Vanessa Randall, Leeland's sister, was a doctor with an expensive gambling habit. His brother Joseph followed in his father's footsteps and became a lawyer. Joseph was pompous and arrogant. Leeland Sr. wouldn't have entrusted either of his children to hold a $2 bill yet alone control his money.
Leeland's father kept all of his important documents in 3 shoeboxes under his bed. Leeland grabbed the boxes and set them on his father's bed alongside him. Scrambling through the old boxes, he found deeds, insurance policies, stocks and bonds certificates, and assorted Navy metals but no will. He rose from the bed and searched in drawers, cabinets, and bookshelves but was unable to find the much-needed document. Discouraged, he called his father's friend Judge Weingarten. A soft voice answered the phone.
"Hello, Sarah. I need to speak to Richard please. This is Leeland. Leeland Randall." He sat back down on the bed.
"Oh, hello Mr. Randall. I'm sorry to hear about your father." Sarah said.
"Thank you, Sarah. I appreciate your empathy." Leeland began to search through the scuffle of papers on the bed.
"Hold on. I'll grab Judge Weingarten". Sarah put the phone on hold.
Leeland waited and listened to a piece by Mozart for one minute before Richard answered the phone.
"Leeland, my boy. Are you holding up okay?" Richard asked.
"It's been tough but I'm doing okay. Listen, I was just sorting through dad's things. Did he ever mention to you what he did with the will? I need to get properties in order, prepare for the funeral, and pay any existing debt dad may have had. As you know my father was... prudent, for lack of a better word." A smile formed on Leeland's face as he thought about how tight his father was with money.
There was a momentary silence.
"Leeland. Your brother Joseph has the will." Richard cleared his throat.
"Why does Joseph have the will?" Leeland arched his brows and leaned the phone closer to his ear.
"Joseph came in my office about 3 months ago with your father to make some...adjustments". You are no longer in charge of Leeland Sr. 's financial affairs. Joseph is the guarantor now." Richard spoke as if each word cut his lip as he spat it out.
There was an uncomfortable silence.
"Leeland. My boy. Are you still there?" Richard leaned closer into the phone,
..."I'm here Richard." Leeland put down the phone, gathered his thoughts, and spoke through clenched teeth. "So what you're telling me is that Joseph is the sole proprietor of everything?".
"Yes." Richard cleared his throat again.
"With my father's properties, businesses, and insurance policies, there are over 6 million dollars to be sorted between the three of us. Not to mention the stocks and bonds he owned and the diverse portfolio he invested in over a period of time. And you assisted?" Leeland stood up and began to pace the floor of the small bedroom.
"Yes. Unfortunately. I did." Richard said.
"Why. Richard. Why!" Leeland's voice echoed throughout the apartment.
"My hands were tied Leeland. Your father came in with Joseph and agreed. Signed all of the papers at his own will. It was out of my hands." Richard sighed loudly.
"Damn it, Richard. My father had Alzheimer's and early set dementia. You knew that. Why wasn't I called? Leeland yelled.
"Joseph stated that you were aware of it." Richard rubbed his forehead and shook his head.
"Do I fucking sound like I was aware Richard? Leeland bellowed.
"There is one more thing." Richard sighed again.
"What?" Leeland began to fume with anger.
"Everything goes to Joseph. He is the sole heir of all his properties, bank accounts, etc. He left you and Vanessa with nothing. He took you out of the will completely. I am so sorry Leeland." Richard squeezed his eyes, bracing himself for Leeland's reaction.
Leeland had twin daughters in college. Each child had a semester left before graduating. He had two children at home in school. A daughter, in her last year of high school and a 12-year-old son entering high school. His church following had begun to dwindle and money was tight in his household. The uncertain future of his church, mortgage, and children's college funding seeped wrath into his veins. He became delirious with rage.
"I'm going to kill him". He hung up the phone with Judge Weingarten, grabbed his keys, and headed out the door to 46201 Magnolia Lane.
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