Free Godsend 6: All Jokes Aside by K. Elliott Page A

“An investigation revealed that she may have been seeing a black guy. Know who he might be?”
    “Not a clue.”
    She said, “I like two scenarios. Maybe you got the black guy and her killed. After all, nobody knows who the black guy is.”
    “I never killed anybody or had anybody killed.”
    Echo walked over to the table and offered Kiandra one of sandwiches. When she declined, he pulled out a chair and said with them at the table.
    She said, “Or maybe you only got rid of her and hoped the cops would focus on the black guy.”
    Don shook his head. “I never hurt her, and I even passed a polygraph test.”
    Echo said, “Polygraph? Another Jerry Springer production.” He bit a deep chunk out of the first sandwich. He produced a handgun and touched Don’s neck with the barrel. With a mouthful, he said, “This here is a more reliable lie detector.”

Chapter 2
     
    WENDI LAMBERT was face to face with her mother, Gloria. They were in a well-kept den, and the television was louder than necessary, but the two white women were even louder.
    Wendi said, “Mom, I did not have sex with your boyfriend.” She was an attractive woman, but she was skinny to the point of not being shapely.
    Gloria said, “You’re a damn liar. He has pictures, and he showed them to me but wouldn’t let me keep any. If you weren’t such a loose whore, you’d know when you were bring put on camera.”
    “Mom, you’re not using your head. Kevin caught you with his best friend, and he’s only showing you photos to get even. Think about it.”
    “Never mind his motive; why would you sleep with him?”
    “I never slept with Kevin! The photos are obviously doctored. You already know about the pictures of me that were leaked on the Internet. Kevin must have used those nude shots of me and Cal, simply replacing Cal’s image with himself. And you fell for that. What a loser.”
    “I’m still your mother. I expect more respect—” The doorbell rang. “This conversation isn’t over.” Gloria left the den to answer the door. From her front room, she could see a Yukon SUV parked curbside.
    She looked through the peephole. “Who is it?”
    Brian Cathcart said, “Special Agent Richard Gaston, FBI.” And he held up his credentials for her to view.
    Gloria opened the door and saw two black men and a white woman. “How can I help you guys?”
    Brian said, “We have a few questions for Miss Wendi Lambert. Is she home?” But they already knew she was there and had even heard the argument.
    “Well, I’m her mother, Gloria Lambert. She’s here, but she doesn’t live here anymore.”
    Then the woman called out to her daughter. Wendi arrived in seconds. “What’s going on?”
    “These men are with the FBI. They want to talk with you.”
    Brian said, “We’d like to ask you some questions about Ramona Hartley.”
    “Oh. Ramona. Sure. Please come in.”
    Brian was working with two trainees. Ezra Timothy Carpenter was a 33-year-old white guy of Brian’s size. Ezra’s friend called him Etceterra, but his FBI credentials had yet another name for him. The other trainee, Derrick Freemont, was a huge, 42-year-old black man who looked friendly and at the same time, unbeatable in a fist fight.
    The three men entered the middle-class home and were invited to sit on the sofa and armchair. When Gloria closed the front door, Brian said to Wendi, “The case files tell me you were best friends with Ramona before she disappeared three years ago.”
    “That’s true. We sorta grew up together, best friends since age ten and eleven. I’m almost a year older.”
    Brian said, “Do you know whether she was fucking anybody other than Don Loftner before her disappearance?”
    Gloria cut in and said, “Agent Gaston, is that kind of language necessary?”
    Etceterra jumped in and said, “Ma’am, before letting us in you called your daughter a ‘damn liar’ and ‘loose where.’ We only need a few minutes of your daughter’s time. Please don’t