Worth the Wait Part5

“God, please let me live to tell the story." Crystal was just about to take the exit to Spring Oaks and she could already see the streetwalkers scattered about. Good thing it was early morning, so daylight was on her side. She slowly merged to the exit and simultaneously pulled out the picture of the witness. It was a mug shot, so it was clear of any blurs. Chuck Richardson. “OK, Chuck, where are you?”

Crystal saw a gas station and pulled up to a pump. She locked her doors and reached into her glove compartment for her .380 pistol. She wasn’t a stranger to firearms since her dad was in the military. She made sure one was in the chamber, put it on safety, and tucked it into her waistband. She figured she would wait around for a while to see if Chuck would show up on foot. She looked at his picture again and then started thinking about exactly how she would approach him and what she would say. This was a delicate situation, and she got the feeling that she only had one chance to get this right.

Just as she was forming her questions, her phone rang. It’s Cane. Crystal felt that cold feeling in her stomach again. She grabbed her phone and just watched it ring. She wanted to answer, but honestly, her emotions were all over the place and she knew Cane would detect uneasiness in her voice. She really didn’t know anything yet and didn’t want to jump the gun, especially over the phone, and she couldn’t risk him prying and asking her what was wrong. She let it go to voicemail. That was the first time she had ever purposely not answered the phone for Cane. She was honestly in love with this man. She didn’t see that changing anytime soon. She just couldn’t talk to him right now.

Then a text came through from Cane: "Hey babe, call me." Another message came through, this time from Monica: "Hey, you good?" Crystal responded to Monica first: "Yeah, just waiting around at the gas station. Maybe I’ll catch him here." Monica replied, "OK, just checking," with a thumbs-up emoji.

Crystal put her phone in her pocket, looked up in her rearview mirror, and saw someone on a bike riding into the gas station. She grabbed the picture of the witness out of her folder again and realized it was him. “Oh shit. OK, OK.” Crystal took a deep breath and opened her car door. He parked his bike on the far side of the gas station, but still next to the front door. She started to walk towards the entrance.

"Got any spare change?" Chuck looked at Crystal with the one good eye he had.

"I got 20 bucks for you if you can tell me what you saw Sunday night at that warehouse."

"Oh shit. I should’ve known you were a cop. You look like a fucking cop." He spat to his left and started to walk towards his bike.

"Wait, I’m not a cop. I’m a journalist. I’m not trying to take you in for questioning or anything, but I do need some answers and you need some spare change, so let’s help each other out." She took the $20 from her pocket and held it out towards Chuck. He looked at her, then snatched the money and quickly put it in his jacket pocket.

"Alright, lady, but I don’t want my name in any papers. You got that?"

"I got it, and I’m listening. What happened?" Crystal folded her arms and took a step back. The stench on this guy was overwhelming, but she buried her facial expressions for the moment.

"Well, I saw a guy in all black walking out from the back of the warehouse. He was tall and, well, he looked out of place. You know, I know all the dealers, killers and streetwalkers around here, and he didn’t look familiar at all."

Crystal listened and then asked, "What was he doing? Was he running? Was he with anyone else?"

Chuck spat again to his left. "No, he was just walking. He was like wiping his hands with some kind of bloody cloth or something."

Crystal’s heart was beating out of her chest. She was just trying to concentrate and get her $20 worth. "Well, was he white? Was he black? What did he look like? What kind of car was it?"

Chuck raised an eyebrow, his patience wearing thin. "Look, lady, he was tall. He was black. The car was black. He was wearing black. Everything was black. OK, now I’m gonna need another 20 bucks for more questions and a beer."

Crystal wasn’t about to give him more money. She stood there for a second and said, "OK, wait. One more question: about what time was it?"

Chuck grabbed his bike and straddled across it. "I don’t know. It wasn’t dark yet. That’s all I know. Now unless you got some more cash, I’m done with all this interrogating, lady who ain’t a cop." He kickstarted his bike and cycled away.

Crystal trotted back to her car, quickly started it, and got back on the freeway. Her mind was racing. He was tall, he was black, the car was black, he was wearing black. This sounded like Cane. All black and the physical characteristics. She wanted to be wrong. She hoped she was wrong. She didn’t want to gaslight herself into thinking she didn’t see Cane last night, though. All she could do was find more information and draw her own conclusion. Or maybe just drop the story completely before noon today and let Green give it to somebody else, or she could just come out and ask him: where were you last night?

She took a sip of coffee and reached for her phone to call one of her sources she had on the police department. She knew she didn’t have a chance in hell of getting information from the coroner’s office. And most cops weren’t keen on talking to anybody in the media in regards to a fresh story, but she knew a guy.

Crystal was so deep in her thought while she was driving, she didn’t even notice that she was being followed on the freeway.