Hidden Relationships of the Homicide Detective

By Herman L. Hinton

This book is titled Hidden Relationships of the Homicide Detective.
The responsibility of overseeing the Homicide Unit and my everyday exposure to witnessing violent crimes throughout the city of Birmingham led me to write this fiction novel that depicts a young man who takes a circuitous route in his quest to restore the luster in his parents dismal marriage. While in pursuit of what he believes is the key to restoring happiness in his family, Trey Wilcox meets some interesting people who at one time or another crossed paths with his dad, along with other amazing discoveries. But more than anything else, this long and winding voyage reinforces his belief that family and lifelong relationships are vitally important for survival.
This book is designed to help restore family values, to encourage friendly relationships, and to truncate the rise in the number of dysfunctional families across the globe. It is also designed to uplift victims of violent crimes who might still be in despair because of the unwarranted trauma they have experienced. It will also help them understand that irrespective of the odds that they currently face, they can pick up the fragments of their broken lives and rise far above that experience.
This is a must read for adults of all ages. But with the vast majority of youths in the world maturing as quickly as they do, I envision upper-class high school age as a starting point for marketing this book. This is definitely a must read for high school seniors as they prepare to enter college and adulthood in a world filled with an assortment of surprises, traps, and vices designed to trip them up. It serves as an eye-opener for all of us, irrespective of whether we, or any of our family members, have ever been the victim of a violent crime. As a matter of fact, the content in this book is written in such a manner that it serves as a great read for every family and ideal for public libraries. Throughout this book, we are reminded just how fragile life and relationships are, as many of us take for granted on a daily basis that one incident is all that separates us from an enormous setback, irrespective of our current walk of life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 12, 2013
• ISBN: 9781493112067

Herman L. Hinton

Retired Deputy Chief of the Birmingham Police Department after thirty years of service. He held that position from 2008 until his retirement in 2013. During his years of service, he commanded the Homicide Unit for more than eight years and commanded over 500 death investigations including the death of four Birmingham Police Officers in the line of duty. During the course of these investigations, he developed inextricable relationships with the Coroner's office, the Alabama Bureau of Investigations, and other agencies within the state and across the country, leaving an indelible impression with colleagues and families of these victims while maintaining a homicide clearance rate above the national average. His first book, published in 2005 is entitled, "Life Is So Simple When We Choose To Love God's Way." In 2011 he also wrote chapter IV of "Inside the Minds," Best Practices for Sexual Crime Investigations and Trials, published by Aspatore Publishing Company. Aspatore Books are written exclusively for C-Level executives (CEO, CFO, CTO, and CMO) from the world's most respected companies and law firms. He also initiated the Birmingham Police Department's Cold Case Unit and spearheaded the successful effort to bring "The First 48" to Birmingham. He has a B.S. Degree in Criminal Justice from Miles College, and is a devout Christian, currently resides in Birmingham, AL.

Book preview

Copyright © 2014 by Herman L. Hinton.

Library of Congress Control Number:            2013918480

ISBN:         Hardcover            978-1-4931-1205-0

                   Softcover               978-1-4931-1204-3

               eBook                     978-1-4931-1206-7

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 10/03/2014

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Police procedure details add depth to this story about keeping a family together.

In this fictional story of family and loyalty, author Herman Hinton is on a mission to restore the concept of family; at the same time, he aims to help victims of violent crime see that they are a valuable part of the justice system, not just pawns used by officers to round up criminals. He accomplishes his goals with Hidden Relationships of the Homicide Detective, the story of Trey Wilcox, the teenage son of a homicide detective.

As a retired deputy chief of police in Birmingham, Alabama, the author knows police procedure, and he uses his knowledge to add color and description to the book: Trust me, I try my very best and I emphasize to my detectives, not to get personally involved in any of their cases.

Readers interested in family drama will find this book interesting.

Lynn Evarts

Clarion Review

A curious teen delves into the secret connections of his homicide detective dad and learns more than he bargained for about life, loss and kinship in this mild-mannered mystery set in modern-day Alabama.

While not an edge-of-your-seat story, this well-paced novel drops enough bread crumbs to keep the pages turning until the reader unravels the mysteries of the people behind the numbers. These believable characters tell a morality tale of sorts regarding how one’s life choices can bring on disaster or honor.

Hinton’s book will appeal to teens, as well as adults seeking inspiration that could nudge them toward making better life decisions.

BLUEINK REVIEW

This book is dedicated to all members, past and present, of the Birmingham Police Department, Alabama, especially those who laid down their lives in the line of duty.

Of the myriad kinds of relationships that exist in the world today, most consenting adults would tend to agree that marriage and family relationships were designed to be the most beneficial relationships to mankind. With that being said, to what extent would you go in order to salvage your marriage, your parents’ marriage, or even your best friend’s marriage if you knew it was on the rocks and there was something you could do to avoid this disaster? Perhaps your marriage hasn’t been tested, and for now, you are still fortunate enough to celebrate meaningful wedding anniversaries, birthdays, and fun-filled memories. Does this preclude your marriage from being challenged in the future? Do not attempt to answer just yet. For more reasons than I have room to write, we are witnessing an unrivaled number of divorces across the country, and the list continues to grow each day. What about the children’s perspective? Should they be used as the glue that keeps the family together? Or should they be allowed to indulge or to play a role in the maintenance of their parents’ marriage?

Welcome to a story about a curious teenager, Trey Wilcox, the son of Sgt. Terrell Wilcox, one of the state’s premier homicide investigators. Trey firmly believed that his parents were on their way to making it to this undesirable growing list of divorced couples. Each day, he watched his parents’ relationship take galloping strides in reverse, appearing like patches of thick fog on a deserted street before dissipating on the other end of a dark, lonely road. He became intent early on to go above and beyond the call of a mild-mannered son and big-brother mentor to do his part to help the Wilcox family stay afloat. Trey had heard about a number of failing marriages and broken homes in the police department as well as in the families of some of his closest friends. He was an astute seventeen-year-old high school senior, a sharp cookie who possessed one of the brightest minds in his senior class. Trey could have excelled at any major college. Instead, he opted to stay close to his parents and his younger brother, Travis, by enrolling in a nearby community college directly after he graduated from high school. This unselfish move ensured him that he would be home in the afternoons and on the weekends too while still managing to do the one thing that he knew he had to do ever since he attended a summer workshop back in middle school, and that was to go to college. Trey was proud of the fact that against many odds, his family was still together. He exuded the importance of a good education and a sturdy family structure, and he wanted nothing more than a guarantee that his ten-year-old brother, Travis, would also reap the benefit of having a stable family and a big-brother mentor all under the same roof. He had often heard his parents say during previous arguments that they were only together for the sake of the children. Still, he did not know just how much longer their marriage would survive after overhearing several of their heated arguments. Their rocky relationship, unlike some of the relationships that Trey had seen and heard about, was free from violence and had sustained sixteen years of an off-again-and-on-again marriage a year after Trey was born. Just the thought of having a strong family seemed to give Trey a much-needed semblance of security. In spite of this somewhat-crooked nail, it was still a much-needed hope that he used each day to hang his hat on.

The adventure in Trey’s life started in January of 1997, a day after his dad, homicide detective Sgt. Terrell Wilcox, encountered a near-fatal automobile accident with a drunk driver that left him comatose. Trey was at a local wrecker company, sitting inside his dad’s wrecked vehicle, gathering some of his personal effects. He began to rummage through the glove box and browse through some of his dad’s invoices and paperwork that were strewn around the console and floorboard when he was suddenly alerted by an incessant buzzing sound that appeared to be coming from underneath the driver’s seat. He sat quietly for a moment as the sound continued to start and stop and then start over again. As he opened the car door and knelt on the ground to get a closer look under the front seat of the car, he discovered that a cell phone was vibrating on the floor of his dad’s wrecked 1994 Honda Accord. Trey became somewhat pensive as he almost swore that yesterday he saw a similar cell phone on his dad’s belt as he was carted by the paramedics to the emergency room.

Holding the cell phone in the palm of his hand as an indigent child would hold a potluck prize on Christmas Day, he stared at the phone with amazement while anticipating the next vibration. As he began to wonder who on earth did this cell phone belong to or what he was going to do with it, he immediately concluded that rather than give it to his mother, who was bound to explore the who’s who behind each and every phone number that appeared in the phone or to simply give it back to his dad if and whenever he recovered from his injuries, he decided that for now he would keep it to himself so that he alone could investigate these calls. Whenever someone would call, Trey opted to not answer the phone. Instead, he decided to wait for a message and then record the number in his notebook. I’ll collect all the numbers first and call them later, he thought to himself. So during the first week, as his dad lay unconscious in the neurointensive care unit, Trey recorded the phone numbers and the date and time of each call that came in. He logged the phone numbers inside a small pocket notebook that he had also found in his dad’s car.

After the first week of monitoring the phone, Trey realized that all the calls were repeated calls from seven different callers. Not one of the callers left a message. As he became all the more curious, seeking to find out more information about these callers, he made a valiant effort to gain access to his dad’s voice mail by combining a series of numbers from his dad’s birth date and social security number. He crossed his fingers each time after loading the phone with a series of mixed numbers, hoping that the next launch would land the correct personal identification number so he could listen to any messages that were previously stored. After several failed attempts to produce the personal identification number to the voice mail, the system locked. While sitting, ruminating over what he should do with these phone numbers and his newfound toy, he decided to hide both of them under his mattress until he could come up with a workable plan. He decided not to tell a solitary soul about his new discovery or what he planned to do with these seven phone numbers that he had collected. So after concealing these numbers for more than two weeks, Trey concluded that the mental relief from dialing these numbers would be far more profitable than the daunting task of keeping them in secrecy. This tug-of-war was more than he could stand.

One night, while driving past the site where his dad’s accident had occurred, he noticed a manhole cover near the end of the street. He waited until all was clear before parking his vehicle slightly in front of it. Using a jack handle to raise the metal plate, he dropped the cell phone down the drain. After relieving himself of the phone, he momentarily sat in darkness on the curb with his head resting in his hands as if his mind was in a semi-state of depression. He was all knotted up and at the pinnacle of a crossroad when he began thinking about how much he loved his dad and how much he missed communicating with him. But at the same time, he was just as perplexed by the enigma of the castaway cell phone. Maybe one day soon, Dad will be back in life’s lineup. Then he’ll be able to give me a logical explanation that will remove any doubt and explain away all my questions. That’ll be great, he thought out loud, and then life for the Wilcox family can once again return to the good old days. But for now, he could only hope that somehow, someway, his dad would regain consciousness and begin to make moderate strides so he could at least be able to speak to him again. He lifted his head toward the sky, admiring the stars. That’s not an unreasonable request, especially on behalf of a man who has given as much of himself to this community as Dad. To heck with these phone numbers. I just want my dad back. I’ll gladly hand these numbers over and admit to him that I tossed his cell phone down the drain the minute he looks me in my eyes and says, ‘What have you been up to, son? I’ve really missed spending time with you and your brother. Come over here and give your dad a big hug.’

Trying desperately to separate himself from his overbearing emotions, Trey concluded that the time was perfect for him to nerve up and begin calling at least one of these seven numbers that he had recorded from this phone to see where it would lead him in what he believed was his dad’s mystery life. Trey Wilcox, the son of one of the most decorated homicide detectives in the state, was about to launch his very own novice investigation into what was destined to become a roller-coaster voyage. In his quest to rescue his parents’ bewildered marriage, Trey gets more than he bargained for as he unlocks and unfolds hidden relationships in his dad’s life. This journey will no doubt lead him to a long winding, bumpy road filled with many strange twists and turns and take him where few dedicated young men or women would ever dare to go.

CHAPTER 1

Hey, wake up. Don’t you hear that silly phone going off? exclaimed Odessa Wilcox as she reached toward her nightstand to turn on the bedroom lamp. Her husband, Sgt. Terrell Wilcox, was sound asleep as his cell phone had vibrated its way onto the floor. The newly promoted homicide sergeant reached toward his nightstand and picked up his phone off the floor as he started toward the kitchen table. He and his team of four investigators had been out most of the night and into the next morning, rounding up potential witnesses and interviewing possible suspects involved in a double homicide the day before. It was around 3:00 a.m., and his cell phone was sounding off again. He couldn’t have been home in bed for more than an hour as he stumbled to the kitchen table and began calling the police dispatcher to get the nature of his latest call. Trey was reflecting on that dreary night as it was so vivid in his mind. He remembered all too well some of the horrific homicide stories that his dad had told him during the last seven years, dating back to when he first made detective. However, over the last few years, even with the large number of high-profile cases that his dad had investigated, Trey still felt that maybe his dad was living life on the edge and probably had a mistress in his life. Finding what he believed was his dad’s second phone only piqued his interest all the more. He recalled, when he was around eleven years old, how his dad would take him along as he would drive around the city for hours. He would make several stops at different locations, talking to people from all walks of life, from the pulpit to the courthouse and from the penthouse to the jailhouse. There were two phone booths where his dad would stop just about every day, not only to make calls, but also to receive them as well. This was his regular routine as Trey and his dad would ride together on weekends and sometimes after school, long past his normal working hours. Oftentimes, Trey would have his schoolwork with him. He would be reading and writing, trying to complete his homework assignments, while his dad would be traveling down some of the most ragged streets in the city. That was the price that young Trey had to pay for wanting to spend more time with his dad. But this was fine with him and well worth it too. Sergeant Wilcox was a stickler for education. He and his wife agreed to allow Trey to occasionally go with him on the pretext that he had to bring along his schoolwork and work on it while riding in the car. Whenever he would ride with his dad, he would never place him in harm’s way or allow him to go to any location where obvious danger prevailed. And no matter how hard Trey tried to stretch his little ears, he was never privileged to hear any of his dad’s phone conversations or to go inside a residence with him. He began to reminisce how much he loved his mom and dad and how good it made him feel whenever the three of them and his brother were able to spend any amount of time together. Sergeant Wilcox made sure that the family took an extended vacation each year just to get away from the stress of his job and to enjoy some much-needed rest and relaxation. Trey relished those times and thought they were some of the best moments of his young life. But more than that, those times were well worth salvaging for the future for his young brother, Travis.

Shortly after he had disposed of the cell phone that he found in his dad’s car, Trey rode around the city streets, admiring how much the demographics had changed over the last five years. Suddenly, he drifted off to a familiar area, an area that housed one of the pay phones that his dad had used on numerous occasions. He didn’t want to use his cell phone or the family’s landline for obvious reasons. Besides, he was in no hurry to return to his house as it had become very cold, empty, and lonely during the past days without his dad. His mother and brother were at the hospital visiting his dad during every visiting block that the neurointensive care unit allowed. There was no change in Sergeant Wilcox’s condition. After stopping at the phone booth, Trey sat in his car thumbing through his notebook when, without hesitation, he went to the pay phone and began dialing the first number from his mystery list of seven. After about four rings, a pleasant-sounding middle-aged female answered the phone. Hello, hello. I said hello… May I help you?

Uh, I think I got the wrong number. By the way, who are you?

Excuse me! You call my house and said you think you have the wrong number, and in the same breath, you have the audacity to ask me who am I? The real question is, who are you? And what do you want? So let’s just start this dialogue again because right now I’m not in the mood for games. Just politely tell me who you want to speak to.

I’m sorry to have bothered you, ma’am. I guess I do have the wrong number. So I’ll just hang up the phone and be on my way. Trey sounded deflated as he suddenly got the strange lady’s full attention.

Wait a minute, son, don’t hang up. You sound a bit troubled. Listen, honey, I’m sorry if I came across as being a little nice nasty toward you, but I keep getting these weird calls all times of day and night from people playing on the phone. Quite frankly, I’ve grown a bit tired of it. That’s all. I just had my number changed about a couple of months ago for the very same reason. I didn’t mean to be rude to you, and I’m sorry if I came across that way.

No, ma’am, the apology is on me, and I hope you accept it. I shouldn’t have hesitated to say hello when you answered the phone. But anyway, I’m glad you decided not to hang up on me.

Well, now that we have that straight, just who do you want to speak to? Trey was still reluctant to respond. Am I supposed to know you, son?

Well… I don’t think you do.

Then as a simple courtesy, why don’t you begin by telling me your name?

Trey… it’s Trey.

Okay, so your name is Trey. Well, my name is Teresa. What can I do for you, Trey?

It’s a long story, and I am sure that you have better things to do than to listen to some kid’s story. Besides, I have no idea where to start.

The best thing to do is to simply start at the beginning and stop at the end. It may be a long story, but trust me, I have the time to listen. Trey was speechless; he began searching in every compartment of his mind to find an opening statement. Even though Teresa was poised to listen, she was still curious about the nature of this call. Tell me, son, how did you get my phone number? Did you really dial the wrong number? Better yet, what number did you dial?

Wait one second, and I’ll tell you. Trey looked in his small notebook as he slowly barked out the phone number that he dialed.

That’s my number, all right. Did someone give that number to you?

Yes, ma’am, they really did. I have it written right here in my notebook.

So who is it that you are looking for?

Well, to tell you the truth, I really don’t know. I was just curious, and I wanted to see who was going to answer this phone.

Ah, don’t be silly, son.

No, ma’am, it’s the honest truth.

So just what are you trying to accomplish by playing on the phone?

Actually, I’m in the process of starting an investigation into a family matter.

And just what kind of case are you investigating, and how does my phone number fit in?

Like I said earlier, it’s a very long story, ma’am.

Okay, that’s great. I heard you the first time. And like I told you, I would love to hear your story regardless of how long it takes. It sounds quite interesting, I might add, and I’m a very good listener. So if you are ready to talk, I’m more than willing to hear all about this family matter.

Tell me something, Teresa. Are you lonely?

What? I’m alone most of the time, but that’s because I prefer having it this way. But to answer your question, no, I’m not lonely. So if you are looking for a date, you definitely got the wrong girl, Trey.

I didn’t say anything about a date.

Then why did you ask me such a loaded question?

I don’t know. I guess I was just curious to know why you are so eager to listen to me when you barely know my name and you’ve never seen me before.

Well, now I guess we are even because I am curious about you too. You certainly don’t know me either. Or do you?

No, ma’am, I don’t know you.

That’s what I thought. You see, I was just concerned about you because you did sound a bit frantic, and I thought that perhaps you needed someone to listen to your side of the story, whatever that might be. Maybe I was wrong.

Oh no, you’re exactly right.

Then I hope you’ve been listening because I would love to hear your story and help you with your investigation too if I can.

I don’t recall saying that I needed your help with my investigation.

I know you didn’t, but I can sense that you do. Are you old enough to drive a car?

My goodness, you sure are nosy. But I guess that’s a good thing. You just might make a good prospect to assist me with my investigation. I certainly do have a car and a driver’s license too. And I can drive better than you can walk.

Don’t worry, Trey, I would never bet against you. I have a feeling that you aren’t at home, so just where are you calling from?

What’s up with all the questions? Are you coming to see me?

I just might, son, if you stop talking and tell me where you are.

I’m at the corner of Edwards Road and Seventeenth Lane, at the pay phone in front of Carlos’s Diner. Do you know where that is?

I sure do. It used to be one of my hangouts a couple of years ago. So do you want me to forget that you ever called, or do you want me to meet you there?

Would you really?

Of course, I would.

Wow, that’s swell! How long will it take for you to get here?

I’m already dressed, so it will only take me driving time. So don’t you go running off anywhere.

Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll be right here waiting on you.

Give me about an hour, and I’ll be there.

Okay. What kind of car should I be looking for?

Who said anything about a car? I prefer driving my truck. Just look for a dark Silverado with slightly tinted windows.

Teresa hung up the phone and started on her journey to formally meet Trey. Trey stood inside the phone booth in silence for a moment with a puerile smirk on his face before finally going inside the diner to order a chocolate fudge sundae and wait for Teresa. It was as if a dream had come true. How could I be so lucky? he thought to himself. He began to pinch himself as he trembled profusely, hoping and praying that he was not about to be awakened from this adventurous dream. This kind of outcome only happens to good guys in the movies, he continued to ponder. Perhaps over the last few years, he had developed some of his dad’s investigative skills and figured it was high time he begins to put them to use. As he gobbled down some more of his sundae, he began to think out loud, I wonder what this lady looks like and how did she get involved with my dad? I just know she knows him. He had no idea how he would initiate his inquiry, but he was confident that he had all the right tools, and he would have all his little ducks in a row, and all his questions would be answered just as soon as he and Teresa had formally met.

About forty minutes had gone by when young Trey looked through the front glass of the diner and observed a dark-colored truck cruising in the front parking lot near the phone booth. His heart was racing like a small child’s on a downhill bike ride as he observed the truck go completely around the building and temporarily out of his view before reappearing and stopping near the phone booth. The rush that he got from seeing that truck was comparable with that of a young detective getting in position to make his first arrest in a high-profile murder case. He tripped over a rubber mat and almost knocked his sundae to the floor as he got up from the table and made his way toward the entrance to meet the strange lady that he had talked with over the phone less than an hour ago. Once the truck made a complete stop, he reluctantly approached it. Teresa began to slowly roll down the driver’s window to get a sneak peek at him. She thought to herself as she proceeded to check him out, Why, he is just a child, and he is about as young as I thought he’d be. But in the same breath, she murmured softly, He’s cute, though. Hey there, sonny, are you lost?

No, ma’am, Ms. Teresa, I certainly am not. Are you?

I told you earlier, or did you forget that I used to frequent here quite often. I also told you not to say ma’am to me anymore. She then stared at him and smiled. Just relax, kiddo, and stop trying to look so serious. I’m just teasing. I don’t know about you, but it’s not every day that I leave my home just to meet a stranger.

So what are we going to do, go back and forth like this all day, or are you going to get out of that truck and come inside and let me buy you a sundae so we can talk?

Well, I was kind of hoping that at least for the moment you would climb up in the truck with me so you can tell me all about this thing that’s weighing heavy on your mind.

Trey looked at her and shouted back from a distance, No, I don’t think so!

And just what is that supposed to mean?

It means that I was taught to never get into a car with a stranger. Of course, that would also include a nice-looking lady in a maxed-out truck. Or did you forget what I told you earlier. So why don’t you come on down so we can talk?

What if your mother or girlfriend comes waltzing in? What would you do then, and what would they think? Better yet, you would probably be in a lot of trouble if they even knew that you were here meeting me like this.

Why, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind because they know it isn’t like that, and besides, they know that I know a lot of people, and I am quite capable of handling myself.

Well, we can settle this little score once and for all. I’ll just drive back to my little cubbyhole on the other side of town and get back on my computer and continue what I was doing before I was rudely interrupted by you. Good-bye, Trey.

Hold on, Teresa! Please wait just a minute! I think we can work something out. Now we both know that as much as gas cost, you surely didn’t drive all the way over here just to turn around and leave. You don’t want to do that, and I really don’t want you to. So please don’t leave me. As a matter of fact, I’m more than willing to climb in your truck to talk with you. Anyone who’s as bold as you to leave the comfort of their home just to check on a curious young boy wonder like me most certainly gets my vote of confidence.

Immediately after climbing into her truck, Trey noticed the special hand devices attached to the steering column that Teresa depended on to assist her with her driving. And just like that, quicker than you could blink your eyes, bow your head, or snap your fingers, he had experienced a total paradigm shift. Trey was speechless and embarrassed about the snide comment that he made earlier. He didn’t know where to go or whom to see, and he certainly had no clue what to say next. He had no idea that this strong-willed lady who came to his rescue even before she had gotten all the facts had such a physical challenge in her life, especially the type of challenge that he was suddenly witnessing. He was in deep thought as he said to himself, Only God knows the physical pain and mental anguish that this lady has gone through in her life. He glimpsed down at her legs as he tried his best not to stare. He knew at once that she had little or no movement from her waist down. Listen, Teresa, if I had only known that you were… well, I would have never made that silly remark about me being able to drive better than you can walk. I am terribly sorry that I invited you here like this. I should have dug a little deeper and asked more questions, and then perhaps I would have known. Trey was so confused that he didn’t know what else to say. His mind began to drift back to his dad’s accident and all that his family was going through. Why didn’t you tell me? We could have met someplace much closer to your home without me putting you out of your way. I really wanted to see you, and I was more than willing to come wherever you were just as quickly as you came to me, even if they didn’t sell my favorite chocolate fudge sundae there. Trey was expecting a smile or a quick retort from Teresa but got neither. You were supposed to laugh at that, Teresa. It was just a little humor. Please forgive me for being so selfish.

Listen, kid, don’t you ever let me hear you say those words again. No apology is necessary. There was no way for you to have known about my physical challenge.

Trey began to feel a little better when he realized that Teresa was really okay with meeting him there. So tell me, how did you get like this? Who could have possibly done this terrible thing to you? Please tell me what happened to you, if you don’t mind.

Hold on just one minute, young detective. Why do you arbitrarily assume that something bad happened to me? Or that someone did something to me? Are you always this quick to make assumptions?

Well… no, ma’am.

What if I told you I was born this way? Would that make you feel differently? Would you still be as sympathetic toward me?

Oh yes, ma’am, I sure would. I think that my heart would still go out to you, and I would still care about you just the same. Teresa felt the desperation in his juvenile voice as he surfed deep down inside for all the right words to say. Even though his youthful appearance suggested that he was an immature child, she could sense that his approach toward her life experience was both genuine and sincere.

You know, Trey, I think that you probably would be just as sympathetic regardless. I also think that you are a very bright kid. Suddenly, Trey had this vacuous look on his face; and before he could figure out what to say next, Teresa stated, You are exactly right. Something terrible did happen to me. But to be perfectly honest with you, my life is truly what you would call a long story. Of course, I do have the desire and the inclination to tell you all about it, but it’ll just have to wait until later. My trip here was not supposed to be about me. So please don’t go feeling sorry for me. I manage my life every day just fine, thank you. I’ve grown to accept this condition for what it is, and I’ve learned to be okay with that. Trust me, Trey. I am not glad that this happened to me or to be in this predicament for the rest of my life, but I’ve learned to use my life as a teaching tool to help others. I have grown a lot, and I have learned so much about myself along the way. Quite frankly, I know that I have become a better person since this experience. However, it did momentarily send me in a tailspin, and it took quite a while before I could convince myself or even admit that my life still had value and a purpose. You see, I learned along the way that I am simply a spirit being that was created to have a body experience. And it is left strictly up to me to use what I have been given inside to handle all the pitches that come my way, whether they are tossed by me through my own choices and decisions or by someone else who superimposed their will on my life. You see, it really doesn’t matter because I am equipped with everything that I need to survive. I had to learn to see the big picture and figure out what my role is in this life. I’ve learned to be upbeat with all that has happened because I know that time is on my side, and I am not going to waste my energy mulling over anything that I have no control over.

What a strong constitution, Trey thought to himself as they both began to ease up a little. I still can’t help but feel terrible for putting you out of your way like this. If you had only told me that you were… well… challenged, I would not have asked you to leave the comfort of your home just to meet me.

Suddenly, Teresa looked at Trey as if she was getting a little irritated with his subservience. Can you hear at all, Trey? Didn’t I just tell you not to go feeling sorry for me? So what are we going to do, continue to have an apology contest, or shall we get moving?

Get moving where?

I don’t know where to go. Let’s just go. We can talk anywhere else you’d like. I just don’t want to stay here. I really don’t feel comfortable out here in this open parking lot. After a few seconds of silence, Teresa spoke up. How would you feel about getting in your car and following me back to my place? We’ll be okay there. It’s just me and my cat.

I think I can do that, but where exactly are we going?

I said let’s go to my house. It’s not far from here. It’s been a long time since I’ve had company. And since you said you can drive just as well as I can walk, it shouldn’t be a problem for you to follow me in your car. The two of them chuckled as Teresa continued, Do you have enough gas?

Sure. I just filled up yesterday. Is there anyone else at your house that I should be concerned about?

No one else is there. Trust me, Trey, it’s safe, and I do live alone. No one else even has a key. So do you need to call home and check in with Mom before we get started?

Oh no, I’m fine. It was evident as their dialogue ceased that Trey appeared relieved and comfortable as he trailed Teresa to her house. She lived in a fairly new suburb on the eastern side of the city. Trey had grown to know the area quite well as his dad had taken him riding throughout the city.

It was about 7:25 p.m. when they arrived at Teresa’s place. She opened the garage door and effortlessly backed her truck into her one-car garage, while Trey parked his vehicle in the driveway. He immediately went inside the garage to see if he could assist her just before the garage door closed. Once inside, Trey was most impressed with how well-organized and decorated her house was with a beautiful array of every imaginable color. Teresa Lowery was a gregarious thirty-five-year-old throwback from the sixties. She had a petite body with shoulder-length jet-black hair. Trey could sense that at one time she was the spitting image of a flamethrower who relished living life on the edge. She had practically learned where every nightspot was on either side of town since she relocated from Illinois. She lived alone with her three-year-old Siamese cat, Jonathan. An irreversible life experience had dealt her a terrible blow. A person with limited vision couldn’t possibly imagine her potential. There was nothing to suggest or no revelation to indicate that a challenge existed through her speech or in her spirit. Her cubbyhole, as she called it, was a small two-bedroom house that was immaculate and tailored for her convenience. Trey was simply mesmerized by how this little lady managed to get around so well and was so independent despite the new limitations placed on her life. Wow, did you do this all by yourself? I mean the decoration and all?

Well, kind of, but I also know a few people too, Trey. Besides, I haven’t always been paralyzed.

There I go again. I’m sorry. I just wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean it like that.

No problem, dude. Can I get you something to drink?

No, I’m fine.

Then pull up a chair and make yourself at home.

So this must be Jonathan?

Yes, sir, that’s my little Jon-Jon.

Look at him. He’s circling the room like he’s looking for a fight. Mom and I have been thinking about getting a pet for my little brother, but right now we’re not sure.

That could be a good thing, but only if your brother is responsible enough to take care of it. If not, you and your mom will probably end up either taking care of it yourselves or putting it up for adoption. They are lovable, but at the same time, they can be quite demanding. Well, so much for pet talk. I really want to know what was troubling you when you called my house earlier.

I wouldn’t exactly say that something was troubling me, but I do have a question or two that I would like for you to answer that might help clear up a lot of things that I have on my mind.

Go right ahead, Trey. I’m listening. Trey had begun to feel quite relaxed as he shot straight from his hip.

I just want to know if you have been seeing my dad on the side. Teresa looked bemused. Or better yet, what is the relationship between the two of you?

What on earth are you talking about? Just who is this dad of yours and what’s his name?

His name is Terrell Wilcox, and he is a police detective.

Teresa was absolutely dazzled by the straightforwardness of Trey, but she was also relieved when she heard his dad’s name. Did you say Terrell Wilcox? she asked with her jaws dropped and her shoulders sagged. She stared directly at Trey as she continued with another question. Do you mean the homicide investigator?

Yes, that’s him. Do you know him?

Why, of course, I do. Quite frankly, I’ve known him for around two years or so. He checks on me constantly. As a matter of fact, he called me a few weeks ago and left a message on my answering machine to see if I had received my subpoena for court. I’ve been trying to return his call, but he won’t answer his phone. I haven’t heard from him since. As far as getting with your dad is concerned, you are going to have to be more specific. And if you are going where I think you are going, you can just squash that thought right here and now. Trey could only sit there in complete silence and listen. Let me put it to you as plainly as I can. I don’t know if your dad is male or female because we’ve never played like that. All we’ve ever had is a business relationship.

So is that why you’ve been calling him?

What do you mean, is that why I’ve been calling him? Sergeant Wilcox and I have a relationship that is professional in every sense. That’s all we’ve ever had. We’ve communicated off and on ever since I got hurt. He calls me sometimes just to see how I’m doing. I’ve just told you in a roundabout way that your dad is the lead investigator in my case. I consider your dad to be a trustworthy, honorable man in every way.

Trey appeared to be stunned. Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle, he said. So I suppose that explains how you and my dad hooked up. It had finally sunk in Trey’s head that perhaps Teresa was telling him the truth about their relationship. I think I’ll have that cold drink that you offered me earlier. He began to open a bottle of aspirins that were on the table. My head is really spinning. I think that I’ll have an aspirin or two with that soda pop." Trey was now convinced that the phone he found vibrating in his dad’s wrecked vehicle did in fact belong to his dad, and Teresa had in fact called him on several occasions. But what about the other six numbers that frequently called his dad? In Trey’s mind, the jury was still out on him. He still didn’t know why his dad had to have two phones.

Look in the refrigerator. There should be a soda pop or some juice in the side pocket. Tell me, Trey, what’s going on? How did my phone number end up in your hands? You are not old enough to be an officer, so you must’ve been snooping around in your daddy’s business?

Oh no, I would never do that. Besides, I have no idea where he stores his case files. By the way, in case you haven’t heard, my dad was involved in an awful wreck a few weeks ago with a drunk driver. He is still in the hospital, recuperating from a serious head and neck injury. He is in a coma, Teresa, and may never walk or talk again, let alone survive.

Say what? I can’t believe that. He was my confidant. I am so sorry to hear that, Trey. Was an arrest made?

Yeah, it was made on the spot. That guy was so intoxicated that he couldn’t have run away from the scene if he wanted to. He was practically blown out of his socks and was sitting in the car, eating a sandwich whenever the officers arrived on the scene. He never once asked how my dad was doing or if anyone was hurt. Dad was trapped in the car and unconscious. And wouldn’t you know it, the other guy only sustained minor injuries.

Your dad is a very good investigator, but more importantly, he’s an even better person. You know that I will be praying for him, Trey. I’m sure that the police department misses his expertise even as we speak. He has a heart the size of Chicago. He did a fabulous job of investigating my case, and needless to say, that without him, my case would have never culminated. I’m so glad you told me about his accident. Since we don’t know exactly when your dad will be returning to work, I guess at some point, I’m going to have to call his office to see if my case will be reassigned to another detective if your dad is not back in time for the trial. I’ll probably call the district attorney’s office too. But that’s a small thing right now. I just hope that he pulls through.

So was my dad investigating the case that caused you to be… well… to lose the use of your legs?

Yeah, that’s right. Listen, Trey, you started out talking about your dad, and I do hope that he gets better, and then you begin to climb into my business. But you still haven’t told me how you got my phone number.

I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to dodge your question. It’s just that so much is going on inside my head right now. Anyway, it just so happened that I go to school with the son of the manager at the local wrecker company where my dad’s car was towed. I went to the wrecker company because I wanted to see just how much damage was done to Dad’s car. So my friend gave me access to the lot so I could get a closer look. Sometimes I hate I went there. His car was crushed like a rotten apple. It’s a blessing that he survived. Anyway, we got a crowbar and opened the front door so I could look inside to see if Dad had left any valuables. I wanted to make sure that none of his possessions were left and didn’t come up missing later on, if you know what I mean. That’s why I took it upon myself to look around inside his car. And when I did, that’s when I found a phone vibrating under the front seat. I’m sure that some of his coworkers probably called themselves collecting most of his items from the wreckage, but lucky for me, they overlooked that phone. Rather than give it to my mom, I decided to keep it and go through the numbers myself so I could let his friends know that he had been involved in a very bad accident and he wasn’t doing so well.

You know, Trey, I’m really sad about your dad and all. I think you know that. But you are not a very good liar. I don’t watch the news at all, and I don’t read the newspaper that often, but I venture to say that there was probably some mentioning of that wreck either on the news or in the newspaper. If not, I’m sure by now that his coworkers have spread the word across the city.

Are you insinuating that I’m lying?

You can call it whatever you want. I’m simply saying that if this was your intention, why didn’t you tell me when you first called that your dad was injured? Why were you so reluctant about talking to me over the phone? Why did you cut so many corners when all you had to do was tell me what happen? You know I know that it’s more to it than that, so you might as well tell me.

Well, I didn’t expect to hear such a pleasant voice on the other end of the phone when I called you.

You weren’t really shocked. Deep down in your heart, you knew that a woman was going to answer the phone. You figured I was your dad’s girlfriend, didn’t you, Trey?

Well, I guess so… but I wasn’t really sure.

How many numbers from that phone have you called?

You’re the first and only one. I believe that I counted seven different phone numbers, including yours. Right now I’m not sure if I should call any of the others.

You’re probably right, Trey. What would your dad think if he found out that you were meddling with his cases? You do know that this investigation of yours could backfire and possibly contaminate all the hard work and long hours that your dad has invested in these cases. This could also have a harmful effect on you because you could be barking up on some very dangerous trees.

"Perhaps you’re right, Teresa, but I guess it’s going to depend on whether these