Free Sugar & Spice by Keith Lee Johnson

bastard who did this is somehow connected to the Perkins murders. Am I to conclude that Sarah Lawford, my daughter’s schoolteacher, was somehow involved with Perkins and drugs?”
    â€œThat’s how it looks, Phoenix,” Kelly said sadly. “I know you knew the woman, but hell, think of what we went through last month with Lawrence Michelson. You never know what people are doing. And what about Simon? Who knew what he was up to?”
    Kelly had a point but I just didn’t see Sarah Lawford, arguably the best teacher, and most liked by all who knew her at the Academy, involved in this sordid business at Norrell Prison. It just didn’t make sense. Yet, the evidence would seem to indicate that the same man had murdered three people. Maybe I didn’t want to believe it.
    â€œI don’t believe it, Kelly,” I said firmly. “I don’t care what the evidence says. I knew this woman. No way she’d be involved with drugs.”
    â€œAnd that, my friend, is why they don’t allow us to handle cases we’re too close to. We tend to ignore what’s in plain view in a futile attempt to exonerate friends and relatives.”
    I heard a disturbance coming from outside. It sounded like Bernard Rodgers.
    â€œSARAH!” the man shouted. “Let-me-go! Let-me-go! SARAH! SARAH!”
    Next, I heard the clump, clump of someone running up the stairs onto the porch. I knew it was Bernard. I immediately went through the kitchen door and out into the hallway that led to the front door. I saw Bernard Rodgers, all six feet two inches of him. He was well-muscled in his chest and arms. Bernard knew of my martial arts skills but he didn’t seem to care. He was determined to get past me and see what had happened to his beloved. I, on the other hand, was determined to stop him. He didn’t need to see what that animal had done to Sarah. No one did.
    â€œStop, Bernard,” I said forcefully.
    Bernard kept coming forward. Behind him, I could see a reporter talking into a microphone with the camera pointed in the house. Little Luther Pleasant was watching with excitement in his eyes. He wanted to see some action.
    â€œDon’t make me do this, Bernard,” I said firmly.
    Without a word, he walked toward the stairs and I stepped in front of him. Bernard swung wildly at my head and I ducked. If I didn’t know him, if I didn’t feel his grief, I would have seriously hurt him. Instead, I floated to his right and let him grab me. When he did, I simply twisted his wrist sharply, forcing it to do what it wasn’t designed to do. It was a simple move. Didn’t take much strength at all. He groaned loudly. I continued to apply pressure until Bernard went down on one knee, then the other.
    â€œBernard,” I said. “I don’t want to hurt you. But you don’t want to see her that way. Believe me you don’t.”
    With that, he broke down. Cried like a baby. I let him go so he could grieve unrestrained. I looked at him, wondering if he knew something. Everybody was a suspect as far as I was concerned. Kelly had a point. What if Sarah Lawford was somehow involved with Nelson Blake and Louis Perkins?
    â€œBernard,” Kelly said softly. “We’ve got some hard questions to ask you.”
    Bernard stood up and we all walked into the kitchen. When he saw the melted ice cream, he broke down again.
    â€œShe bought me some butter pecan ice cream,” he muttered almost incoherently, then kind of slumped into one of the kitchen chairs.
    Kelly and I looked at each other. I nodded my head. She knew I was with her, knew I wanted her to grill him while I consoled. It may seem ruthless, but most of the time the killer is someone the victim knew. We had no way of knowing if Bernard knew what was going on at Norrell or not. Killing Sarah could have been a message for him.
    â€œDo you have any idea who might want to kill Sarah?” Kelly asked as