Tainted Too

by Blacc Topp

Genres: African American Urban; Crime Fiction

Synopsis

Tainted Too is the second installment in a three-part series full of juicy drama, lust, and revenge.

Monica Deitrich is back in this thrilling, pulse-pounding novel. As an FBI profiler, Monica never assumed that her job would be easy, but after the murder of a close friend, Special Agent in Charge, Monica is thrown headfirst into a case that will change her life forever. A ruthless string of murders spanning the continental United States has Monica both worried and perplexed. When she stumbles upon a key piece of evidence that threatens to drive her insane and rip her family apart, a simple roll of the dice could fix it all. It's a long shot, but if her next move is her best move, she just might survive the game!

Release date: March 26, 2024

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

Monica smiled as she signed the card that she’d addressed to Bird. He’d made good on his promise to leave the game and travel the straight and narrow. She was proud of Bird. He’d opened a restaurant called Bird’s Burgers, and he was having the grand opening of his third location. Monica giggled. She was happy that she’d remained friends with Bird after all they’d been through. He’d hit on her relentlessly until she finally sat him down and explained to him all the reasons why they could never be. As a DEA agent, she had been bound by her duties and she’d simply been doing her job. Kochese had not only been the case of a lifetime, but unfortunately, he had become a casualty in the war on drugs. She still felt a twinge of guilt about him committing suicide, but it was his choice to die rather than serve time. She’d also explained that her main priorities were Jasmine and Noisy Boy. Bird had been somewhat surprised and hurt, but he’d understood and reluctantly moved on. Either Bird had been trying to be a playboy or he had moved incredibly fast, because not even a month later, Bird had called Monica, hardly able to contain himself.

“Guess what, Monkey?” Bird had said excitedly.

She hated when he called her Monkey, but she understood that it was his way of establishing a familiar connection. “What, Bird? What’s got you so excited?”

“I’m in love, Monkey! I know what you’re going to say: ‘Bird, you’re moving too fast,’” he said, mimicking Monica’s voice. “I’m telling you, though, she’s the one. My little sister loves her.”

“Okay, okay, calm down ol’ super-duper-in-love-ass dude. Noisy Boy, Uncle Bird has a new girlfriend. What do you think about that?” Monica said.

Noisy Boy lifted his head from the floor and gave two quick yelps.

“I’m excited for you, Bird, and so is Noisy Boy. We can’t wait to meet her.”

“I love this feeling! Shit, I don’t know which one I love the most, her or this feeling that I’m feeling right now. But, Monica?”

“Yes, Bird?”

“Don’t interrogate her when you meet her, because she’s shy.”

“What makes you think I’m going to interrogate her?”

“Because I know you.”

“What’s her name?”

“Bridgette.”

“Where’s she from?”

“She’s from here.”

“How old is she?”

“She’s twenty-six.”

“What does she do for a living?”

“She owns a bookstore/coffee house.”

“Any kids?”

“None I know of. See what I mean? You’re interrogating me about her and you haven’t even met her yet.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. So how’d you guys meet?” Monica asked, continuing with her barrage of questions.

“Well, we were both taking an entrepreneurial course at East Lake College, we got to rappin’, and that’s how it happened. Seriously, we just found that we had a lot in common, and we’ve been inseparable since.”

“Well, I’m happy for you. You deserve it, Bird.”

“Yeah, well, you had your chance, and you blew it, shawty! Now all this chunk of lovin’ is going to somebody else!” Bird teased.

“What the hell ever, boy, bye! Get off of my phone!” Monica laughed.

That had been almost nine months earlier. Now Bird was a married man, and he and Bridgette were expecting their first child.

Monica sealed the envelope and placed it beneath a dozen roses that she’d bought for Bird and Bridgette. She looked down at Noisy Boy, who lay lazily at her feet. He stared back at her, bewildered. Monica grew sad as she looked at her puppy. Well, he wasn’t exactly a puppy anymore. At more than fifty pounds, Noisy Boy was full-grown and the most beautiful canine she’d ever seen. He made her think of Kochese much too often.

She had allowed herself to fall deeper in love with Kochese than she’d imagined. He haunted her dreams, often turning her dreams into nightmares. She could still feel his touch, oftentimes sending her body into fits of ecstasy-filled convulsions. Even from the grave, Kochese had a hold on her. She hadn’t so much as looked at another man since she lost Kochese. She could still see his intense eyes burning through her like freshly blazed embers, but she couldn’t remember his voice. When she tried to imagine something that he might say, she only heard her own voice.

Noisy Boy let his blue puppy dog eyes sag sadly. He licked his chops greedily and then whimpered softly. That was his way of letting her know that it was past his feeding time.

“Okay, Mommy’s hungry little man. As soon as Jasmine gets out of the shower, we will get something to eat. Okay, baby?” Monica said.

Noisy Boy cocked his head to one side as if to ask, “Are you serious?” He was the alpha dog, and he knew it. He stood and circled the table once and then trotted toward the bathroom.

Monica listened with a knowing smirk on her face. Moments later, she heard Noisy Boy bark and then scratch at the bathroom door. The shower stopped, and Jasmine emerged covered in a lime green bath towel. Her jet-black hair fell in heavy, wet ringlets around her bronzed shoulders.

“Don’t rush me, Mr. Meanie,” Jasmine said as she knelt to pat Noisy Boy on his head. He whimpered again and wagged his tail feverishly.

Monica smiled to herself. Noisy Boy was overprotective of the sisters who were often mistaken for twins. Their looks seemed to garner too much attention for Noisy Boy’s taste, and he’d scared away more than one suitor who’d come calling. They jogged every morning and nobody, man or woman, could get close to them without Noisy Boy going into attack mode.

“Hurry up, Jazzy Bell. The grand opening ceremony starts in an hour,” Monica said.

“Okay, I’m hurrying. You’re just rushing me so that you can feed your little greedy son!”

Less than an hour later, they pulled up in front of Bird’s new restaurant. A small crowd of about thirty people started to gather. Bird was expecting a much larger crowd by the end of the evening. This newest location wasn’t as large as his other locations, but the building could still hold double that number easily. Monica smiled and nodded at Bird as she made her way to a reserved parking spot in front of the café. As usual, Bird was the center of attention. He was dressed in the finest designer clothing, smiling his immaculately polished smile from ear to ear. He held a grotesquely oversized pair of golden scissors, and a huge red ribbon was stretched across the front entrance of Bird’s Burgers. He nodded back in her direction, smiling that same boyish smile. Bridgette stood next to him, glowing. Pregnancy really agreed with her, and even though she complained to Monica about her massive weight increase, she was beyond gorgeous. Monica hadn’t noticed any significant weight gain, only the basketball-shaped baby bump of Millicent Bircher, who slumbered peacefully within her mother’s womb. Monica liked the name. It was cute, and when she’d asked Bird why they’d chosen the name Millicent, he’d simply shrugged and said, “Because it’s pretty.”

Bridgette stood between Bird and his sister, Kim, facing the throng of eager spectators. Bridgette’s yellow maternity dress billowed in the slight breeze. She smiled as their potential customers made small talk about how good their burgers were and how beautiful she looked. As Monica, Jasmine, and Noisy Boy made their way to the front of the restaurant, she noticed the white smoke pouring from the roof of the building. It was undoubtedly from the grills inside the eatery, because the smell of freshly grilled beef and chicken wafted through the air.

Bird’s imagination and ingenuity were incredible. He was the first person in Dallas, maybe in history, to combine a restaurant catering to both people and their pets. There were two entrances—one for humans and one for pets. As the patrons arrived, they would gladly hand over their pets to handlers who seated the dogs at a long buffet-style table where they could not only mingle with other dogs, but they could also have their fill of dishes ranging from filet mignon to Bird’s famous grilled burger smothered in beef bouillon gravy. He’d come up with the idea by seeing that people really loved to eat on the go, but most people in the Thousand Oaks section of Dallas spent a lot of time with their pets. If they were given the chance to take their pets home, then nine times out of ten they wouldn’t return to a burger joint, no matter how upscale. By offering to feed their dogs while they in turn were being fed, Bird surmised that most people wouldn’t mind paying the slightly higher prices for the convenience of his one-stop shop. His supposition had been correct, and it had paid off in a major way.

“Baby, can we get started? I’m starving, and baby Millie is kicking me. She’s hungry too,” Bridgette whined.

“Okay, baby. All right, ladies and gentlemen, I want to thank everyone for coming out to join us for yet another grand opening. We plan to open one of these every year until we’re old and gray. As long as you wonderful people keep supporting us, we’ll keep opening diner after diner,” Bird said. He bent underneath the red ribbon and stepped to the front door, opening it and beckoning to his staff.

One by one, they filed out to the sidewalk. Their attire was decidedly elegant for work in an establishment whose main staple was hamburgers. Although they specialized in burgers, Bird wanted to give a different vibe to his restaurant. Patrons were seated and ordered from menus, nothing too drastically different from a Steak ’n Shake or Applebee’s. The major difference came with the attire and service. The restaurant-goers were treated more like they were at Ruth’s Chris than Burger King, and the entire staff was dressed in black formal wear. The waiters wore black tuxedos, and the waitresses wore black French maid outfits. The cooks wore black also, but not tuxedos. They wore black traditional chef’s uniforms. Only the head chef, Rufus, wore chef whites.

“Okay, everyone, now that we’re all here, let’s get this party started. Kim, since you’ll be running this location, why don’t you do us the honor of cutting the ribbon?” Bird said, handing Kimberly Bircher the gigantic golden scissors.

She took the scissors and turned to face the crowd. “This is my brother’s dream, and although he has given me the privilege of being his restaurant’s manager, I’m sure there will come a time when I will be answering to my unborn niece Millicent. Bridgette, come up here and help me cut this so that we can tell Millie she helped cut the ribbon,” Kim cooed. Bridgette joined Kim behind the ribbon and took one side of the huge scissors.

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, count with me!” Bird shouted. “One, two, three!” he screamed with the crowd.

As the scissors sliced through the satin ribbon, an ear-shattering crackle pierced the air, followed by a second bone-chilling snap. Kim’s head exploded in a mess of skull fragments and brain matter. Before it registered with anyone that Kim had been assassinated, a third shot rang out and struck Bridgette in her chest, throwing her against the wall. She opened her mouth to scream, but there was only silence. She clawed at her chest as she slid down the red brick wall, leaving a trail of blood as she slumped to the ground. The soft yellow maternity sundress she wore was now a malevolent shade of copper as it mixed with her crimson-colored plasma.

The crowd screamed in disbelief and began scurrying for cover. Bird stood mesmerized, unable to move as Monica screamed at him to get down, but Bird didn’t hear her. He had locked eyes with his soulmate, the woman who had believed in him, the woman who had married him, and the woman who would bear his child. He wondered if baby Millicent would make it through this tragedy. He wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but his body felt heavy, and he couldn’t move.

A single tear fell from Bridgette’s eye as she stared lifelessly back at Bird. Deep within him from his bowels, he began to moan as the realization of what had happened hit him. The entire scenario had unfolded in front of him in slow motion, and he hadn’t been able to protect her. The moaning grew louder. His teeth chattered, and his hands shook. He had to be dreaming. He blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to awaken from his horrible nightmare, but every time he closed his eyes and opened them, Bridgette and Kim still lay motionless on the ground in front of him. The moaning had turned into cries of repressed agony as Bird cried out, “God, why?” He dropped to his knees as sobs racked his body.

Monica and Jasmine both looked on in dazed horror as Bird made his way to a spot between his wife and his sister. He took Bridgette in his arms and cradled her.

“Baby, wake up, somebody help me! Bridgette, baby, open your eyes. Monkey, help me please!” he screamed. His tears fell and came to rest atop their puddled blood. He raised his head and looked to the heavens and screamed. His entire body shook uncontrollably as he sent unspeakable curses to heaven, asking God why time and time again. Bird begged God to take him instead, but his deathly reprieve never came, only the shrill whine of the approaching sirens.

Three blocks from the grisly scene, the gunman drove away undetected. He’d watched the two women and the beautiful puppy arrive, and the time couldn’t have been better. A sinister smile spread across his handsome face as the bright lights of fire trucks, ambulances, and police cars blared toward him. As they passed, the deafening sound of their sirens invaded his eardrums. He drove south until he reached I-30 and headed east. The assassin made sure to watch his speed, careful not to draw any attention to himself. The murders had given him a sense of instant gratification, but he wasn’t satisfied. He had a blood lust that hadn’t been quelled, and he needed more.

The sunlight glimmered and bounced across the dirty brownish blue water of Lake Ray Hubbard as he crossed the bridge into Rockwall, Texas. He owned the plot of land between Lake Ray Hubbard Road and Rockwall-Forney Dam. It was totally secluded except for a few sparse farmhouses, mostly abandoned, along Lake Ray Hubbard Road. Dusk had just begun to fall as he reached the wood line that encircled his seventy-five acres of property. He gave a quick glance in his rearview mirror to make sure that he hadn’t been followed before turning onto the long dirt road that led to his large lodge-style two-story house.

It was a massive 7,000 square feet, most of which was unused. It sat back two miles from the road and was completely surrounded by trees. He’d chosen this location because trees provided natural soundproofing and his victims would never be heard if they decided to scream. From the outside, the house looked completely abandoned. A dilapidated pickup truck sat near the driveway. Closer to the house but off to one side was a barn that was made from the same termite-infested wood as the house.

He pulled his car into the barn and made the one-hundred-foot trek to his house. He walked into his house and went to a room just to the left of his kitchen. He turned on an oil lamp on a nearby desk, and an unstable light flooded the room. It flickered from wall to wall, casting an eerie glow against the array of tattered photos that had been thumbtacked to the drywall. On the wall across from his unholy shrine were dozens of electronic monitoring screens that all held different views of spots around Dallas. It was as if he’d gone through the city and installed cameras in random places, but they weren’t random. They all held significance to the man. He took the red Magic Marker that sat on the rickety table beneath the photos and put a huge X on the faces of Bridgette and Kimberly Bircher. Next to their pictures was a picture of Bird. The gunman spit on the picture and then circled his face in red. He turned and studied the video screens. On the far-right screen, he studied the women coming through the door. Monica and Jasmine Dietrich both walked through the door of their small brick house with Noisy Boy in tow. He raised the volume just loud enough to hear their conversation.

“I’m glad they were at least able to save the baby, Monica,” Jasmine said.

“Yeah, me too. I just don’t understand this shit. I mean, Bird doesn’t deserve this. He really loved Bridgette, and you already know how he felt about his little sister,” Monica said sadly. She sat on the couch and tried to relax. Noisy Boy lay his head on her lap and whined softly. He could feel her sadness, and although he didn’t understand death, he knew that something wasn’t right.

The gunman had witnessed enough. He turned the screen off and went back to the wall of pictures. He went to a picture of Monica and Jasmine. In the picture, they both looked happy as they sat at an outdoor bistro sipping something from teacups. They looked like twins, but he could see the difference. Monica’s eyes shone brightly in the picture as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Jasmine, on the other hand, was a different matter altogether. Even though she smiled, her eyes spoke of pain and torment. She was hiding something deep and sinister, a secret that she refused to share. He knew about secrets, and he most certainly knew about pain. Jasmine Dietrich intrigued him, and he stared into her eyes until he felt as though he had some sort of cosmic connection with her. They were kindred spirits, misunderstood souls that craved pain and bloodshed.

Monica walked into the lobby of Parkland Hospital, afraid of what lay ahead. Jasmine had refused to come because she didn’t handle pain well, and Monica completely understood, but someone had to be there for Bird. His mother had blamed Kim’s and Bridgette’s deaths on his lifestyle. Bird had curtly reminded her that he’d gone straight and left the game behind, but that had been no consolation for his grieving mother. Monica wondered silently why she hadn’t walked away from Bird after the case with Kochese had ended. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a good person. It was that her life was pretty much free of drama except for this tragedy. She’d tried to coordinate with the police department, but they had been less than forthcoming. For whatever reason, the police didn’t like Feds and vice versa.

She stepped off the elevator into the halls of the neonatal intensive care unit and went to the nearby nurses’ station. “Excuse me, ma’am, I’m looking for the Bircher baby’s room,” Monica said.

“Are you related?”

“Yes, I’m her aunt,” Monica lied.

“She’s in room 1050. Visiting hours are over in less than an hour, young lady.”

Monica didn’t say anything. She knew that they couldn’t force a father to leave, and there was no way Bird would let her leave once she was there.

When she walked into the NICU room, Bird was kneeling next to the incubator with his hands clasped in front of his face. He appeared to be praying or deep in thought. She slinked past him and took a seat behind him quietly.

Bird stood and turned to face Monica. Tears streaked his cheeks, and snot ran from his nose. “Hey, Monkey, I didn’t hear you come in. How long have you been here?” Bird asked through muffled sadness.

“I just got here. How is Millie?”

“They finally got her stabilized. I think she might come out of intensive care soon. They want her weight to increase a little more. She’s only at five pounds, six ounces. I’ve been here since that bullshit happened. I watched them cut Bridgette open and remove Millie from her tummy,” Bird said. He tried to choke back his tears, but to no avail. Between sobs, he kept talking. “She didn’t even get a chance to hold her baby. She looks like Bridgette, I think. What am I supposed to do, Monkey? I don’t know shit about being a father,” Bird said.

“You have to do the very best that you can. You know Jazzy and I will be there to help. Have you talked to your mother again?”

“Yeah, man, she’s really draining me emotionally. She’s gotten with Bridgette’s family, telling them about my past, and now they are talking about taking Millie from me. I can’t lose her too, Monkey. I’ve been doing what I promised. I’ve stayed out of trouble and out of the game, but if they try to take my baby, I’m going to kill somebody, I swear on everything.”

“None of that killer talk, Bird. Those days are over. Nobody’s going to take her from you, so chill,” Monica said.

Bird’s eyes narrowed to mere slits. “She’s all I have left in this world, Monica. She’s all I care about, so if I don’t have her, I don’t have shit. I’d rather be dead than to live without my Millie Bean,” he said as he walked to the incubator. He stared down at his baby girl with tubes running into her nose.

“Look at her, Monkey. She’s so innocent, so fragile. Her entire childhood will be spent without her mother. Her little life is in my hands, and I’m fucking terrified. I’m afraid to fail. I heard her tiny little voice for the first time last night,” Bird said, smiling. “As hurt as I was, when I heard it, it made me smile, and a weight was lifted from my shoulders,” he said with his eyes still trained on baby Millicent. “The police came in asking questions, and the whole time that they were here, it was more like an interrogation than an inquiry. They don’t care about solving this murder case, Monica. The fact that my name is involved automatically makes it unimportant to them,” he said, turning to Monica. “You need to find the person responsible for this shit, Monkey.”

“I tried to talk to the police, but they aren’t giving me any details, Bird.”

“Monica, I need you to find them. I know you can. Please, I’m begging you. If I know that you’re on this thing, then I can at least get some measure of peace. Promise me, Monkey,” Bird begged.

Monica studied Bird’s face for a long time. There was something in his eyes tha. . .