The Mamacita Murders Read online

  “I still think pin-ups are counterproductive.”

  “If we used pin-ups to help the U.S. Military, why can’t we use them to help the criminal justice system?”

  “Those were for men. And we’re better than that,” says Stevie, pointing to the two of us, leaving Dylan out.

  “By whose standards?”

  “American female standards. Our standards,” she says again, pointing at me and her.

  “Maybe you should get out of your beach city bubble and visit countries like South America, where women’s naked bodies grace billboards for things like everyday body lotion and reproductive health, not for casinos, strip clubs, and reality shows. Sculptures of voluptuous women are displayed in open plazas like Botero in South America,” I say.

  “Well, like I said, Vanderbilt will sort this whole thing out. Don’t break your crayons over it if he says it’s over. There are plenty of programs out there for these girls. You don’t need to save the world. You picked a really tough crowd who doesn’t even want to better themselves. No one forced them to drop out of school,” Stevie says.

  “How does our education system expect them to succeed when they live in places that aren’t safe? They need a solid support system and mentorship. That’s what The Mamacita Club is designed to do. No one else wants to help them,” I say.

  “I say that’s better left to teachers. Our job is to focus on crime.”

  “Do you know what the best way to reduce the crime rate is?”

  “Locking ’em up?” Stevie says rudely.

  As Stevie rocks her aloofness back into her swivel chair, I rest my hands on the conference table and interlock my fingers tight enough so I can’t punch her.

  “No, Stevie,” I say, matching her rude tone. “The most effective way to reduce the crime rate is to get kids to graduate high school.”

  “I’ve never heard that.”

  “The research is clear. And we’re part of the equation. As Hillary Clinton said, ‘It takes a village to raise a child.’ We use these kids as witnesses in our cases, make them recall the horrifying memories of what they witnessed, then just send them on their merry way. We have an obligation to them. But most times we don’t ever see them again. I just think we can make a difference if we try,” I say.

  “We help the community plenty. Every day, we lock up the bad guys and keep the streets safe. Going beyond that is what our social system is for. That’s what Child Protective Services and social workers do. Why would you want to be a social worker when you went to school for so many years and have a law degree?” says Stevie.

  “If the community knows there are people like us out there to help these kids, wouldn’t they be more likely to come forward to testify or be part of the solution in bettering their community?”

  “Sure, but that’s not our job.”

  “I think you’re wrong. I believe our responsibility extends beyond the courtroom,” I say.

  “All I can say is that I’m glad you’re doing this charity work or whatever you want to call it and not me. I hope they appreciate all you’re doing for them. Because after all the time and effort you put in, the impact I’d assume is rather small.”

  Stevie looks down at her watch then looks right back at me to add insult to injury.

  “Maybe this whole thing will help move your focus in the direction of kids. Don’t you want to have kids?”

  The pressure in my head makes me feel like I’m about to explode.

  “Nope. You can have them, I’ll help them,” I say.

  My attempt to insult Stevie back, who just announced she’s pregnant with her third child, seems to work. She looks away from me. My snide remark is a lie and a dig I like to use on people when they ask questions about me having kids. I don’t know if I’m bothered more by Stevie’s comments about having my own kids or her disdain at my club. Little does she know how much these girls have accepted me for who I am. Helping them has taught me about unconditional love. They’ve said things like, “This club has changed my life” and “I love you guys.”

  I want to tell Stevie that “She has a right to criticize who has a heart to help,” but Stevie is such an unremarkable woman other than her pristine trial record, which doesn’t count for much with me. She’s an effective trial lawyer, but her view of the world is very narrow. She will never understand my passion, my calling, or the deal I have with my angels to help women. Only people like Angela, Riley, Kiki, and Mary really understand who I am and what I stand for.

  Mary walks into the conference room and hands out the memo that I typed this morning. The room quiets down as everyone starts to read it.

  Special Assistant Prosecutors Stevie Sapp and Mike Tanner, Division Managers Scott Crandall and Tom Cha, and the Appointed Prosecutor Debra Miller study the memo. Debra Miller was nominated and appointed by the governor ten years ago. She focuses her efforts on spending reduction, community outreach, and imposing harsh penalties for sex offenders, which the community is always on board with. Plus, she’s a big supporter of The Mamacita Club.

  Everyone continues to study the memo, sighing at different moments. I started the memo with a summary of the crime scene and the way Laura was found in the motel, then laid out all the evidence we have on the case, and what each witness said. Mike Tanner scans through the memo quickly and flips back and forth through the pages like he would have organized it differently.

  Tanner flips to the last page. I concluded the memo with a long list. Each bullet point details in chronological order the crimes from Clown’s past. It includes his two violent priors — one for carjacking another gang member at gunpoint, and one for breaking into a house. He served a total of six years in and out of state prison.

  I know Tanner is interested in how bad of a guy he is. A lot of times filing decisions are driven by a defendant’s criminal background. If a criminal defendant had the chance to reform himself and chose not to, we’re less likely to cut him a break.

  “Ms. Ruiz, I will let you have the floor. Why don’t you tell us about the attempted murder to Laura?” says Tanner.

  All eyes focus on me.

  “This case started the moment investigator Dylan Mack from the Special Homicide Team and I stepped foot into a motel room in Leafwood. We went to Motel Leafwood around ten o’clock in the morning last Wednesday looking for Laura, who didn’t show up to testify in an unrelated case I was handling. When Dylan and I walked into the motel room, it was pure horror. I have never seen anything like it in all the crime scenes I’ve been to. By all appearances, it seemed the motel room had been burglarized, and Laura had been raped and left for dead.”

  “What condition is she in now?” asks Stevie Sapp.

  “She’s sitting over at the Tuckford Memorial Hospital in a coma.”

  “Why are we here then? This isn’t even a homicide case,” says Stevie.

  “It’s just a matter of time before she dies,” says Dylan.

  “Don’t her chances of pulling through increase every day that passes?” asks Stevie.

  I smile at the idea of Laura pulling through.

  “Don’t forget, this is a defendant facing life. So it doesn’t matter if she’s dead for staffing purposes,” says Tanner, snapping back at Stevie.

  “She has a couple of doctors baffled, including the Director of the trauma unit, Dr. Lee. Since she hit the hospital doors, she has not spoken. But she’s breathing and now she’s off all feeding tubes. It’s been five days,” I say.

  “Is that why you’re involved? Because you assumed it would be a homicide?” asks Stevie, looking at Dylan.

  “Exactly,” says Dylan.

  “What evidence do we have she was raped?” asks Tanner.

  “The way she was found — naked, blindfolded, bound by her wrists, her panties around her ankles,” says Dylan.

  “But the VAT nurse didn’t find any injuries consistent with rape,” says Tanner.

  This is the part of every staffing that becomes tense. You really can’t sugarcoat
things with skilled litigators like Mike Tanner. He’s fearless, he sees through everything, and he’s a relentless cross-examiner. And the other supervisors seem to like sitting back to watch the show when one of their own can tear apart an investigator or a young prosecutor like myself. I interject, wanting Tanner to get off Dylan’s back. “Mr. Tanner, you’re right, but oftentimes there are no injuries in rape cases. Remember, it’s normal to be normal,” I say, rattling off the typical doctor expert lingo they use while testifying in rape cases.

  “Okay. Why would Clown ransack the room he rented?” Tanner asks.

  “A ruse. To make it seem it was a random act, like a burglary gone bad,” says Dylan.

  “Why would he want to hurt Laura?” asks Tanner.

  “For a couple possible reasons. Laura could have been trying to get away from him. It’s common for gang member pimps to discipline their prostitutes. They want to teach them a lesson and teach other prostitutes what will happen if they try leaving the ring. It’s pretty common for them to rape the prostitute then assault her like this,” says Dylan.

  “You talk about there being unknown DNA profiles, one from Laura’s vaginal swab and another on the belt. Do we have any suspicion who those belong to?”

  “As for the belt used to bound her, the DNA belongs to a female, but not Laura. I’m thinking it’s either Bess’s or Gaby’s. Bess confirmed it was her belt and Laura borrowed it,” says Dylan.

  “Why would you think Gaby’s DNA would be on the belt?” Tanner asks.

  “I loosened the belt when I found her,” I say.

  Stevie looks up from focusing on the memo.

  “Let me get this right. You think the lead prosecutor’s DNA may be on the murder weapon?” asks Stevie.

  Debra Miller and Mike Tanner glare at Stevie.

  “Stevie, having trace DNA of medical personnel or officers on key pieces of evidence can happen,” says Tanner.

  “Not if it’s properly handled and gloves are used,” says Stevie.

  I start to feel really hot all over my body.

  “I was trying to save her life. I didn’t have time to look for gloves,” I say, carefully selecting my words and not even looking at Stevie.

  “Let’s move on from this point,” says Debra Miller.

  “What else are we looking into?” asks Tanner.

  “The second profile on the vaginal swab. That belongs to a man, but we are still looking into that right now,” says Dylan.

  “It’s not Clown?” asks Stevie.

  “No, I’m guessing...” says Dylan before Tanner interrupts.

  “I don’t want this to be a guessing game of whose DNA is on any piece of evidence. Did we get buccal swabs from Gaby and Bess so we can match them against the DNA on the belt?” asks Tanner.

  “No.”

  “That needs to be done immediately,” says Tanner.

  “I’ll make sure that gets done,” I say.

  “Do you have any leads on the DNA from Laura’s vaginal swabs? Those had an unknown profile, right?” asks Tanner.

  “That’s right. And no, we don’t have any leads on those,” says Dylan.

  “Well, don’t you think those are pretty important pieces of evidence? If your theory is she was raped and attacked, isn’t it a logical conclusion that whoever raped her, also ransacked the room and attacked her?” asks Tanner.

  “She was prostituting. That semen could’ve come from a number of men. There can be so many sources of the co-ejaculator. Neighbors heard people coming and going through the night. Personally, I don’t think the semen tells us much in this case,” says Dylan.

  “Investigator Mack, is your theory that her boyfriend actually raped her and left her for dead? Or is your theory that he assaulted her to teach her a lesson and then staged a crime scene?” asks Tanner.

  “I don’t need to have a theory. What I do know is that all the evidence points to Clown. He was seen leaving the scene shortly after this happened, his phone was in the room he rented for her, he was pimping her out, she was probably trying to leave him, and he beat her. What more do you want? All the evidence points to him.,” says Dylan adamantly.

  “Except the print that was found on the vase, which doesn’t belong to him, isn’t that right Investigator Mack?” asks Tanner rhetorically.

  “Like you said, ‘having traces of medical personnel or officers on key pieces of evidence can happen.’ The print can belong to Gaby, Laura, a paramedic, or a tech. It could belong to me for all I know,” says Dylan snaps back sarcastically.

  Silence fills the room.

  “Who picked this guy up after he ran from here?” asks Tanner.

  “You mean ran from here and tried to kidnap our victim’s mother? Which by the way, according to Ed Vanderbilt, may result in liability to our office,” says Stevie, intentionally reminding everyone how I dropped the ball.

  “That’s interesting you ask. That officer was found dead on Friday,” I say.

  “Any connection to this case?” asks Tanner.

  “It depends who you ask,” I begin. “I didn’t write this in the memo, since I figured it wouldn’t be a good thing to circulate. But it seems like a good time to talk about that right now. The officer that died was Officer Cruz from the Leafwood Police Department. It looks like he committed suicide after he realized his business card was found at the crime scene in Laura’s pocket,” I say.

  “When were you going to tell us about Officer Cruz being connected?” asks Tanner, looking at Dylan.

  Dylan stays quiet.

  “Has the Special Homicide Team ruled Officer Cruz out as a potential suspect in Laura’s assault?” asks Tanner.

  “I have,” says Dylan.

  “Shouldn’t he be one of our prime suspects?” Tanner asks.

  Dylan stays quiet.

  “How did we, or should I say how did you, rule it a suicide?” asks Tanner.

  “There was a suicide note written in a diary he had in his night stand. He torched his own house garage and was found inside it lying in his parked car. He had a bullet wound to his chest, inflicted by his own gun,” I say.

  “What did the suicide note say?” Tanner asks.

  Dylan takes out Cruz’ diary from his briefcase, opens it and hands it to me. I begin reading it aloud.

  I wanted to say good-bye. I think it’s best I end

  it this way. This will be the end of my

  I stop. A wave of air drops from my throat to my stomach. I notice the purple writing. The capital R’s.

  I sit paralyzed.

  I think about the note in my door, the rattling engine sound, and the drive-by shooting. Chills run down my arms.

  “Gaby? Is something wrong?” asks Tanner.

  I force myself to read on.

  caReeR and I can’t imagine life not being an officeR.

  I’m soRRy.

  “Why would an officer kill himself over something he didn’t do?” asks Tanner.

  “He probably knew he was going to be exposed for sleeping with a prostitute. He knew his card was found in the motel room and that he may be looked at as a suspect. An investigation alone would be career suicide. That doesn’t mean he tried to kill her. No doubt, he probably slept with her. He’d get canned for that alone and it would expose the police department,” says Dylan.

  “Is there any other evidence pointing to Officer Cruz as a suspect in Laura’s assault?” Tanner asks, looking at me, as if he distrusts anything Dylan says.

  I hesitate. “Yes, there’s one more thing,” I say reluctantly, letting out a deep sigh.

  “I received a threat note at my door the night of the drive-by shooting. It was written the same way as this suicide note. The ink is even the same,” I say, still holding the diary and now trembling.

  “The note mentioned a flamingo face and only the suspect would know a flamingo vase was used to assault Laura. Whoever delivered the note was in a car with a ticking noise and that’s the same noise we heard during the drive-by. It’s the same noise
the housekeeper described at the motel,” I say, thinking out loud and feeling relieved to get everything off my chest.

  “Are you kidding me? What’s Cruz’s connection to Clown?” asks Tanner.

  “That hasn’t been determined yet,” Dylan says.

  “I don’t know how you feel about what I’m going to ask you to do, Dylan,” Tanner says sternly. “And I’m not in the business of running parallel investigations in the same case, but I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again if I need to. I am not ruling Cruz out as a prime suspect in this case.

  “I agree with you that there is a significant case on Clown and all the evidence points to him. I believe you had probable cause to arrest him and I understand why you submitted this case to my office for filing on Clown.

  “However, we need to look into Cruz. There are some unanswered questions as to the DNA profiles that I want resolved by the preliminary hearing. I want to make sure that Bess’s DNA is on the belt and I’m curious to see if it’s Cruz’s DNA on her vaginal slides and under her nails.

  “I want Clown’s fingerprints rolled at 1:30 in court and a comparison done confirming that’s not his print on the vase. I’d expect you to personally roll his prints, Dylan, with Gaby there.

  “I will file the case, but you have ten days until the preliminary hearing to get these questions answered. If we don’t have this DNA work back by then, we’re not going forward on the case because I don’t personally think you’ve ruled out Cruz as a prime suspect. Do you understand?” asks Tanner.

  “If you really want Cruz’s DNA and I only have ten days, I guess my department will be sending me to the Walled City,” says Dylan.

  “Why the Walled City?” asks Tanner.

  “That’s where his body was sent yesterday. His family wanted him buried there. That’s where most of his family is,” says Dylan.

  “Was an autopsy done?” Tanner asks.

  “No, the family didn’t want one. And the department didn’t think it was necessary. Blood wasn’t even drawn. His body’s on its way to the Walled City right now. The Leafwood PD helped arrange that. This is the first time I’m hearing about Cruz’ connection to the threat note and the drive-by. I just don’t know if my agency is going to send me for this kind of case. It’s only an attempted murder,” says Dylan.