The Girl On The Grill

1 The End of the Day

Mandy did not realize that she was about to die. She saw herself as top star potential if she could get seen. she knew she would be a top echelon actress. She had fond memories of her mother who had died when she was twelve. Her mother had always let her know how good she was in school plays and had practiced many scenes from various plays with her.

Then her mother had been diagnosed with advanced breast cancer. She died a few months later. To this day Mandy thought of her daily and almost always shed a tear.

She and her father seemed to end up in a fight every time they sat too long in the same room.

He wanted her to go to Harvard or some other Ivy league school, but she chose NYU because it was in a city where she wanted to be.

She would have preferred Berkley but got a rejection letter back when she had applied.

She had graduated from NYU and then taken a rather low-level job out in Los Angeles so that she could audition for parts in movies. She tried to break into Hollywood, but she never landed the roles that would have given her the exposure she needed.

She decided to take a break and moved back to Cincinnati when her father offered to buy her a home in Indian Hill. She figured she could see if she could do some acting there.

She accepted an offer to be a law clerk at one of her father’s old college friends. She found him pleasant, attractive, and comfortable to work around. She enjoyed working the cases that he secured.

Then at a party that her father gave, she was introduced to a movie director. During the party she made a point of throwing herself at him. It paid off. She got a lunch date with him and things took off.

Instead of simplifying her life she also got involved with her boss. She bounced between two older men, both old enough to be her fathers.

It was not long before she realized that one affair was benign and the other was not with a movie director but with a local movie drug lord. He treated her with kid gloves, but when she was around him, he treated her more like a prize catch, that he used to distract the people he was doing business with.

The day she heard him discussing a huge shipment of drugs that he was to distribute throughout the east coast was the day she decided it was time to leave.

She excused her, went to the restroom, and decided to use the side door and leave. She was on foot and decided to go to a friend’s house that was just on the other side of the highway.

She was just closing the exit door when she heard Jerry calling her to get back in. She propped an old two by four under the door handle and began to run. She had to stop and take off her shoes so she could run.

She was running toward the bridge and bumped into an old bum as she headed for the bridge. She knew she was going to make it and then she heard a car squealing around the corner.

Damn, she thought and tried to speed up.

The last she remembered was getting hit by Bradley’s huge fist.

The hot days of August reaching into the hundred-degree range made a roast beef and potato dinner in the air-conditioned church meeting room extra special to Johnny. His “home” in the woods next to the interstate was a piece of plastic put on the ground and folded over his sleeping bag. He was not looking forward to the hot night.

He was planning to stay and listen to the discussion on “How to improve your life” that was to be led by a church member who was a local case worker at juvenile hall. He would enjoy the coffee and cookies that he knew would be provided.

This was also a special evening because he had been able to score two new long sleeve shirts. One was plaid and the other was black. He found a black pair of jeans that fit him and a black leather fedora hat. He would have a black outfit.

He though it appropriate; “a black outfit for a black man.” He knew the hat alone was worth at least fifty bucks. When he found a black pair of dress shoes, he knew that this was his night.

He made a point of visiting several local churches that had outreach programs intended to help the homeless like him. There were only twelve homeless people in attendance. He recognized most of them but as was always the case there were a few new faces.

He could tell the new ones by the deer in the headlight kind of looks on their faces. They had hit the bottom of the social ladder, and they were scared. Johnnie thought that being scared was a good thing for them. He hoped it would get them to lean on friends and family for help and to change their situation.

He thought about his own journey to the bottom. He was an aging, black, Vietnam Veteran. His many dreams had each been summarily executed by what he knew was his own shell-shocked state that had hit him after returning from Vietnam. Shell-shocked had been more recently been given the name PTSD. Additionally, the inherent social bias against Black people had contributed to the slide to the bottom.

He remembered the elation of graduating high school and joining the Marine Corps to escape both his poverty and the harsh discrimination by the local white folks. He had distinguished himself in Vietnam where he earned a purple heart. Then after ten years he was informed that his PTSD made him unfit.

He tried to get to stay in but was rejected. He was informed that the VA would give him help as needed.

He came out ill-prepared to make his way in the civilian work force. He slowly sunk into the low end of the poverty ladder. He worked at a variety of odd jobs but never had a long term one. He was proud of his honesty, his braver, and his work ethic. He struggled with his inability to work back up the social ladder.

He was not lazy. He was a good person who only had one good period in his life. This period had been when he served in Vietnam and then got duty as a pay clerk in a small Army pay center. Then after his yearly examination he had been told he was getting a medical discharge.

After getting out of the service, his life experiences were up and down. He never married or had children. He could not imagine being unable to support a family. He could take life at the bottom, but he could not see letting anyone he truly loved share the bottom with him.

Johnnie came out of the rumination to the present time. He took advantage of the church’s bathroom where he cleaned up and changed into his new black outfit.

He put his old clothes and his new black shoes into a black plastic bag that had been handed out to hold the clothes that was selected. He had only selected the black outfit and the extra shirt.

The folks handing out the clothes wanted to give him enough to fill the bag, but he knew better. He would need to carry everything that he possessed. He did this in a green duffle bag that was currently waiting for him in the woods on the other side of the interstate. It was already full and whatever he selected would replace some item that he owned.

Too soon the presentation was over, the coffee and cookies consumed and the invitation to leave was politely extended.

Johnnie helped put the chairs and tables into a large holding closet. He picked up the three-foot dust mop and swept up the meeting area. Everything was cleaned and put away, and it was time to leave. He had milked every moment in the air-conditioned meeting area that he could.

He was given a bottle of water as he got to the door and thanked for having helped clean up the meeting area.

He politely thanked the smiling motherly-looking lady and put his bag of goodies over his left shoulder and walked down the daisy edged sidewalk. It was clear to him that the flowers got watered daily. He smiled as he realized they had a better life than his.

In no hurry, Johnnie stopped to open the bottle of water before walking slowly along the avenue toward the highway.

The temperature was noticeably cooler. The humidity was high, and Johnnie knew his new black shirt was going to get sweat tested. He wished he had changed back into his old shirt and kept the shirt for another occasion.

He was suddenly knocked to the side by a young woman who ran by him. Her outfit was not designed to be run in. Her black skirt was bunched up almost to her waist. Her nylon stockings were bunched up to her knees.

She was barefooted, carrying her black high heels and it looked like her feet were bleeding. Her black hair and the pink scarf she had around her neck was flying out behind her.

Johnnie had just gotten out a, “Hey, where are you going?” when a car came squealing around the corner and flew past him.

He started to hurry forward toward the highway overpass.

The car passed the young woman and stopped. A huge person got out and literally slammed the young woman against the bridge wall.

Johnnie had just yelled to the thug that he should leave her alone as in horror he watched the thug pick up the woman as if she were weightless and throw her over the barrier fence onto the highway below.

Johnnie could hear the squealing of tires, a huge crash and then silence.

The thug, doing the throwing, turned and pointed to Johnnie and yelled to his partner, “Get that son-of-a-bitch,”

It was too late for the young woman. He had to worry about himself.

He wasted no time in throwing his bag and his new hat over the highway barrier fence. He was up and over as the driver of the car backed up and illuminated him. The driver jumped out and came racing over to stop him.

Johnnie grabbed his hat and his black bag as he ran downhill onto the highway.

As he made the highway, he saw that a semi-truck had flipped and was blocking the highway. The driver had apparently tried to miss the young woman, but she was stuck to the grill of the truck just like a butterfly. Her arms were out as if she had tried to hug the radiator.

Johnnie knew she was dead, and he was now the one that the two thugs wanted to get. He looked back to see one of them clumsily climbing over the fence.

The truck had jackknifed as the driver tried to stop.

Johnnie ran across in front of the truck and took in the body stuck on the big flat radiator grill of the truck. The blood was oozing onto the hot radiator and the smell of blood mixed with urine almost stopped Johnnie.

It brought back the memory of the bodies in the rice paddies of Vietnam after a firebombing, but he shook it off and continued running across the highway.

“Just like a butterfly. Poor kid. He wondered what she had done. For sure, he thought she had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The truck was blocking the southbound traffic. Sirens could be heard as they came slowly down on the space between the fast speed lane and the retaining wall.

Johnnie ran past the truck and jumped the wall. He was in his element. He made it across the north bound lanes by dodging and running across the lanes as the cars whizzed past. He looked back and saw that the thug following him had stopped.

Now he only had to worry about the huge thug. The huge one would have gone across the overpass and was probably waiting for Johnnie to come off the highway.

Johnnie ran north along the embankment and the retaining wall. He had one spot in mind that from the wooded side was almost impossible to walk through. That was the case unless you were Johnnie, he mused. He was like the deer or the wild dogs who shared all the woods along the highway with him. He was even friends with a couple of the hounds.

The woods were quiet. Johnnie decided he would take a break from running. He pulled out the bottle of water and took a drink.

He kept a close eye on the highway and listened for any cars stopping on his side of the highway. “Those goons ain’t about to get ole Johnnie,” he thought to himself.

He decided that it was a good time to get some sleep. His black bag with his old clothes and his new shoes made a good pillow. He changed into his old shirt and hung the new black one on some branches so it could dry and air out. He found a comfortable slope under some bushes and closed his eyes.

The image of the girl on the grill of the truck kept him awake for quite some time. He wondered who she was or had been and why she was murdered.

The next morning Johnnie rescued his green duffel bag and headed for the shelter. He was going there for a decent meal, a strong black cup of coffee and a change of clothes.

The early basic meal was just what he needed.

He again wondered what the young lady had done to get herself killed. He figured it had to be drugs.

He decided it was time to get to the library and find out what was being reported in the news.

Once at the library he found a monitor that was tuned to the local news. He listened intently as the newscaster made the point that the young woman was from a wealthy family and worked for Green Housing Realty.

The owner of the company was the main suspect. A lawyer named Samuel Ellington III made a public statement about the innocence of his client.

Johnnie knew he would have to go public and let the police know they had the wrong guy.

He decided that maybe the lawyer would be a better choice. He would try that first.

Johnnie figured that the accused had gotten himself a top lawyer. He knew that his PTSD history would make him a terrible witness, but he had to set the record straight.

“Yea, Johnnie, you mush for brains, they will all think you’re touched. They’ll have a good laugh and tell ole Johnnie to go back under the bridge,” he continued his musing as he left the library.

He had to do something, and he figured the lawyer would be a good start.

A few days later, as Johnnie walked down the street from the library, Mary Ellen, hot wife of Henry Rambler, the accused killer was telling Samuel Ellington III that her husband was incapable of killing anyone.

He was a successful businessman who had hired the young lady as a favor to a friend. He was not a killer but a good businessman.

She thought to herself that she had picked Samuel to represent Henry for two reasons. She had seen him in the news, and he was always the winner. Second it had crossed her mind that he would be a great conquest. He was good looking, dressed very well and had a way about him that said, “let me into your bed and you will have a great time.”

The murder was a major setback in the divorce proceedings she had initiated. She was planning to take Henry to the cleaners. She had the explicit, damming pictures of Henry and his now dead young secretary. Her divorce lawyer had already drawn up the divorce agreement. She would get it all.

“I am on the verge of getting his millions and now this,” she thought to herself.

She wondered if Henry was into more than a romance with a young woman younger than his daughters.

She wondered if she had missed something, but she was sure he was not a killer.

Mary Ellen had met with Samuel Ellington several times. She had worn her best and most provocative outfits each time. She knew she turned men’s heads, and she figured Samuel was no different. They were all after the same thing. It was just a matter of the right timing.

“I have an appointment to get my hair done. Get Henry out of jail. He is innocent by reason of not having the capability to kill. Is there anything else I can provide to be of help,” Mary Ellen said as she stood and turned to go?

She paused to look back at Samuel. She hoped her red dress with its lowcut cleavage had caught his eye.

Her smile was aimed at Samuel, but it also reflected the thought going through her mind.

“Henry is going to pay. Pay down to his last penny for being unfaithful. I am going to continue to be unfaithful until my divorce. Then I will just continue,” Mary Ellen thought as she swayed her hips as she sauntered out of the office.

She was sure Samuel was watching her ass as she slowly closed the door.

Samuel watched as the blond bombshell swayed her way out of the room.

2 Samual Harrington III

There goes my reward for winning this case,” he thought to himself as he turned to look at himself in the mirror and take himself in.

His mirror was to the side of his desk. He was constantly checking his appearance.

“When you are the best, you have to look the best,” he thought to himself as he took in his new Stefano Breyer shoes.

This was the first day he had worn them. He knew why he had hired Linda as his secretary when she complemented him on how good the shoes looked. She paid attention to details.

Samuel needed to decide to what social function to wear his new Testoni suit.

A quick motion of his hand put the imagined out of place hair where it belonged, and Samuel turned from the mirror and walked to the door.

It was time to get Henry released. Samuel went through his list.

Henry’s alibi checked out.

His wife verified he was at home at the time of the murder.

The truck driver who hit the young woman said he saw a muscular guy standing on the overpass and Henry was anything but muscular.

Samuel knew that there was no direct evidence that would allow the police to hold Henry any longer.

When he stepped out of his office, Samuel addressed his grandmotherly support, Linda. He asked her to call ahead to the police station and find out where he could contact the driver of the semi that hit the girl. He wanted her to tell them that he was walking over and would like get Henry released into his custody.

Linda was old enough to be his mother or maybe even his grandmother. Early on he had learned that having a young secretary was a problem. They could be young, ugly, and still be a problem. Linda was the best and she knew how to stay on his good side.

Linda looked at Samuel as he walked out the door. He was by far the most egotistical person she knew and one of the few people who she disliked. But he was paying her top dollar, and he let her do her own office management.

She knew how to manipulate her boss even as he thought of himself as superior to her. Her compliments were simply to boost his ego and when he felt boosted, he always wanted to do some favor.

Samuel looked at his reflection in the elevator mirrors on the door. He thought he cut a fine figure in his Desmond Merrion Supreme suit. The suit had set him back about the same amount that Linda had paid for her new Toyota.

“But I’m worth it,” he thought and smiled to himself as he got on the elevator.

Going to the station, dealing with the police, getting mixed in with the common people all bothered him.

He decided he would need to charge more and hire other people to do all the foot work.

If not murder, then what is Henry into and how did he ever manage to marry that babe and to get involved with a young woman less than half his age. Samuel wondered what it was that attracted women to Henry.

Suddenly an old black man with a Vietnam Veteran’s ball cap blocked his way.

Samuel rudely called him a piece of trash and told him to get out of his way. He took in the clothes and wondered who wore such used and worn clothing.

Samuel was surprised when the man in front of him spouted out that he had seen a huge thug throw the woman over the overpass fence.

Samuel was, inadvertently, slowly walking backwards as he tried to maintain an arm’s length distance from the person blocking his way.

It was clear to Johnnie that the lawyer had his head up his ass. He was not paying any attention to what he was saying.

He stepped aside and the lawyer shot past him like an arrow. Johnnie knew he would have to go to the police.

The police posed a problem for Johnnie. He had been picked up several times and taken in for sleeping in the park or on some warm grate. He had never been charged. He figured the police felt sorry for his condition. He had always gotten good treatment and a meal.

There was a new policewoman that he had seen early in the morning as she rode her bike past the Library. He had followed her far enough to see her park her bike in front of the police station.

Over several weeks he had watched her drive through the downtown area with a young white man that he took to be her partner.

He would see if she would listen to him.

The next day Johnnie was out in front of the Library waiting. He spotted the bike and rider when she was a block away.

He waited until she was coming through the intersection and then called out for her to stop.

Alex spotted the older black man standing at the corner in front of the Library. He was waving at her to stop.

She looked around to make sure he was alone. She would whisk by if she spotted anyone. She was bit about to fall for the old trick of one person flagging someone down so the second person could rob them.

He made sweeping gesture with his arms to indicate he was alone.

She perceived that he was sharp enough to figure out her concern and decided to stop.

She took in the Vietnam Vet ball cap. When she asked when he had served and when he had been in Vietnam, she was given the year 1968 for the TET offensive.

It all sounded right to her. It was clear that the old veteran had something on his mind. She asked what he needed.

He introduced himself as Johnnie and then asked if she knew about the young woman thrown off the interstate overpass.

She replied that it was not her case but two detectives in her unit were assigned to it and had shared a lot of the details.

She listened as Johnnie described the scene from the overpass and then the scene of the young woman stuck on the semi-truck radiator like a butterfly.

Both descriptions rang true to her. The detail about being literally stuck on the radiator had not made the news. She knew she had an eyewitness to what the two detectives were calling “the butterfly murder,” standing before her.

She asked Johnnie if he would walk with her to the police station.

His reply was sure if she did not turn him over to any other police person. She had to be the one that asked the questions and who kept him safe.

She was not sure she could meet his request and said so.

Johnnie responded to her that he wanted to see her try and if she failed, she would owe him at least a good dinner.

Alex took a liking to Johnnie. He seemed to be a good person, and he knew that there were limits to what she could promise.

She walked her bike from the Library to the police station. After locking her bike to the rack, she led the way to her office area. Even arriving later than normal, she was still the first one in. She knew her partner would arrive before the rest of the people in the office. He had learned that it was easier to share a cup of coffee and plan the day than to come in and immediately be asked to leave to some destination that he would learn about as they drove there.

She asked Johnnie how he took his coffee and if he wanted a donut.

Johnnie responded that he took his coffee black but his donuts with as much frosting as he could get.

There were no donuts but there was a pile of small aluminum foil wrapped sandwiches label to indicate egg, cheese, and some sort of meat sandwich. She selected a sausage one for her and took a second one for Johnnie.

Johnnie thanked her for the coffee. He commented that the sandwich was better than a donut.

As expected, Trey McGregor, Alex’s partner, was the next one in. He already had his cup and a sandwich.

He sat down at his desk and looked inquisitively at Alex.

Alex introduced Johnnie.

She then asked Johnnie to share what he had witnessed. This time she asked him to tell her about what he had been doing before and then after seeing the murder.

The fact that Johnnie had come from a church function that could easily be checked out made everything he said even more plausible. When he described the scene the day before with Samuel Ellington III, she knew he was the real thing. She had seen Samuel enter and obnoxiously demand the immediate release of his innocent client.

She saw the two detectives assigned to the case and quietly asked Johnnie to stop talking and not say a word until she said so.

Trey and Johnnie both looked around and smiled. They were waiting to see what the next steps would be.

Alex saw the boss, Bruce Johnson, carry his coffee and sandwich into his office.

She walked over and knocked. She was going to start the bargaining from the top.

The shades in the office were pulled shut. Johnnie asked if the boss was always so loud and if he always used such foul language?

Trey laughed and said only when Alex was pushing him to make some change or get involved in something that he did not want her to.

Bruce opened the door and looked out into the bull pen. He signaled to Travis and Bill to come into his office.

Trey asked if Johnnie wanted another cup of coffee and a second sandwich. He was surprised when Johnnie said yes to the coffee but asked if he could put the sandwich away in his backpack for later in the day.

The loud discussion in the office went on for another twenty minutes or so. The door opened and Alex pointed out to Trey and Johnnie and crooked her finger with the come this way sign. The smile on her faced made it clear that she had won whatever position she had proposed.

Johnnie walked in around Alex and took a seat to which he was pointed. Once again, he was asked to describe the events of the evening leading up to the scene of the young woman being thrown over the overpass retaining fence. Then he was asked about what he saw on the highway and where he went afterwards.

The two detectives laughed when he described the scene with Samuel Ellington III and how he thought he was a conceited asshole. They agreed wholeheartedly with the description. They both had talked about their interaction with him in the same manner.

The two were not happy about sharing the case with Alex and Trey but they were elated about having an eyewitness. Their big question was whether Johnnie could identify the two thugs.

Johnnie said he thought so but that he had never seen them before.

After some discussion it was agreed that Travis and Bill would interview the people at the church. They would go to the closest restaurants and bars to see if they could determine where the young woman had been prior to running to the overpass.

Alex and Trey would stay with Johnnie and get him to look through the mug shots that were in the system.

The meeting in Bruce’s office ended and the two pairs of detectives and Johnnie walked into a bull pen that was full and where everyone was watching what was going on. It was clear that they all knew something different was in the making.

Alex decided that they should take Johnnie into one of the huddle rooms. They could get the mug shots shown on a big screen.

Trey asked if anyone wanted a soft drink or something else to drink. Both Alex and Johnnie chose to have a cold bottle of water.

When he returned, he listened to Alex ask Johnnie a series of questions. She was setting up a search of the database that held all the mug shots of the bag guys.

Johnnie closed his eyes and described the huge thug that had tossed the girl over the overpass barrier. He gave the size, weight, and height. Then he added that he had seen what he now thought might be a tattoo on the left bicep.

Only six mug shots came up! Johnnie immediately pointed to the third mug shot.

Alex asked about the second thug. Johnnie again closed his eyes and gave Alex the same information, but he could not come up with a specific distinguishing feature. He thought maybe a scar on the left cheek.

This time two hundred mug shots came up. By linking the search to the positive match, the number remained at one hundred.

Alex looked to Trey and asked where he had planned to have lunch.

Trey had forgotten that it was his turn to choose the type of lunch they would experience. The two of them had tried every lunch spot in the city at least once. He looked at Johnnie and told him that lunch was on the department and asked where he wanted to go.

Johnnie beamed a smile as he automatically replied, “I’ve been wanting to try Scotto, but I haven’t had the money to do so.” “Is that place, OK?”

Alex smiled and replied that it was a great place and OK. Since the lunch budget had a limit of twenty-five dollars, she knew she would have to pick up anything over that.

They walked to Scotto and were escorted to a table at the back. It was exactly what Alex wanted. She wanted her back to the wall. She felt a little like a sherif in the old west.

She accepted the menu and asked if everyone would want to have some goat cheese and hazelnut bruschetta. This was one of her favorites. Trey and Johnnie both said sure they would try it.

She placed the order and was pleased that all three of them had settled on water to drink. She had been afraid that Johnnie might want a cocktail or wine. She should have known better.

Johnnie was looking over the menu and commenting that Scotto’s must be proud of their food because it seemed expensive to him.

Alex chuckled and added that they should be proud of their food because everything she had ever eaten at Scotto had tasted great.

She went on to point out that her dream selection came close to one hundred dollars per person. She was saving that meal for the time she could bring in that special person she was looking for.

They were enjoying the bruschetta and making small talk when Johnnie quietly said that the thug had just walked in.

Alex looked up, kicked Trey under the table, and freed her shoulder holster gun strap.

The thug looked around slowly until his eyes focused on Alex and Johnnie. Then he walked directly toward them.

Thank you for reading this far – Hope you enjoyed it.