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“Melissa Boyd.” I take out a photo her mother gave us. She’s smiling. Happy. Carefree and recently single. “We believe you and Ms. Boyd have been intimate in the past.”
“Oh! Her.” Narrowing his eyes, he snatches the picture and brings it closer to see. “Yeah, I remember her.” He peeks over the top of the photograph. “What about her?”
“She was found dead two nights ago in City Park,” Fletch says coldly. “Murdered. Stripped. Dumped.”
“Woah!” Stepping back now, Carlton raises his hands in surrender. “Hang on. You’re coming at me like I hurt her.”
“Did you?” I ask. “Did you hurt Ms. Boyd?”
“No!” He backs up until his calves hit the edge of his couch. Then he drops so the structure groans under his weight and his face rests in his hand. “I didn’t hurt— I didn’t—” Looking up, he shakes his head. “I didn’t hurt her. I swear.”
“Where were you the night before last?” Fletch asks. “Between the hours of six till midnight?”
“Uh…” He swallows and looks from Fletch to me. Back and forth. “I was working till seven.”
“Someone can corroborate that for you?”
“Yes! Plus, I punch in and out at work, so you’ll be able to see what time I left. After that, I went to this place downtown for something to eat.” He looks back down at the picture. “Burger and fries with this lady I’m kinda interested in.”
“The name of this lady?” I take out a pen and my little notebook. “Where can I contact her?”
“She’s someone Ilike,” he barks out. “Brand fucking new. And you think she’ll stick around after the cops call her up and tell her they think I maybe killed a different woman I once spent time with?”
“If you’re innocent, then it won’t be an issue.” I already know he’s innocent. But that doesn’t mean we get to skip steps in our investigation and risk having everything thrown out once it gets to court. “We’ll save her till last,” I assure him. “If we can confirm you clocking out of work at seven, and then maybe you can show us proof you bought a meal somewhere else during the time Melissa’s murder was taking place, then chances are, we won’t have to call anyone else.”
“Shit.” Growling, he shakes his head and takes out his phone from a side pocket in his cargo pants. “I knew even back then she was too much fuckin’ trouble.” He looks up at me and sneers. “I knew she was gonna come back to kick me in the ass.”
“Who?” Crossing the small room to Carlton’s little dining table, I snatch a chair and bring it back to sit in front of the guy. “Melissa was too much trouble?”
“Yeah.” He lets his hands drop so they dangle between his legs. “She was looking for trouble, Detective. She came at me that day we met. She wouldn’t go slow. She wanted to fuck, so…” he glances up and shrugs, “Hell. I’m a guy, and she was beautiful, and she sure looked tasty. No way was I gonna tell her no.”
“Melissa Boyd was the aggressor?” Following my lead, Fletch grabs a chair and sits down beside me. “She sought you out?”
“Well, we got to chatting. She was the one who asked me out. She was the one who asked to exchange numbers. When we got to the bar a couple nights later, it was her wearing a skimpy outfit. She was the one looking for a good time. She stuck close to my side all night. We drank and played pool. She was handsy, and I was totally cool with it.”
“She drank?” I tilt my head to the side and wait. “Did Melissa drink alcohol that night?”
“Well…” he considers that for a moment. “No. I guess she didn’t. But it’s not like I got plastered and forced myself on her. She was keen, Detective. She was flirty and touchy and close. She initiated every single thing we did.”
“When was this night?” I ask. “Do you know what date it was? What month?”
“Er…” He presses the heels of his palms against his eyes. “So, it’s February now, right?” He counts back. Mumbles under his breath. “It woulda been June or July, I suppose.”
Making her approximately a month along in her pregnancy.
The fact the numbers don’t add up only confirms what I’ve already begun to suspect.
“Okay, so she’s being aggressive? What else?”
He chuckles, low and husky. “When I say she was aggressive, I donotmean that as a criticism. Man like me,” he looks down his body, “I kinda like the idea of a woman who enjoys it a little rough. But like I said, she’s going full steam ahead. She wants to fuck, and she wants to fuck soon. So we end up here.” He nods over my shoulder. Toward the hall that leads to the bedrooms. “We’re making out. Having fun. She gets a little less aggressive and a little more nervous. But she’s not saying no or anything.” He raises his hands again. Surrender. “I didnotforce her into anything. But that bravery she had at the bar was beginning to simmer, so by the time we’re ready to bang, she’s asking me to be a little gentle. Give her a second to prepare.”
“And did you? Go gentle,” Fletch clarifies.
“Of course.” Carlton says it like we’re the assholes for questioning him. “I want a woman who likes it rough. But I don’t wanna take what a woman doesn’t wanna give. There are too many out there willing, for me to take from those who aren’t keen. So we slow things down a little. She’s telling me the condom hurts her. It’s dry or whatever, and that she’s on the pill, so it’s cool if I whip it off and toss it aside.”
I raise a single, questioning brow. “Did you? She was someone you’d just met. You didn’t know if she was safe. Did you toss caution to the wind and fuck her bare?”
He shakes his head. “No way. I was a horny man that night, Detective. But I’ve never been a stupid man. Rubber stayed on. Lube came out. Everyone went to sleep happy that night.”
