Least Wanted (Sam McRae Mystery 2)

He arrived fifteen minutes later, disc in hand.

“You all right?” he asked. “Damn, that’s a nasty bruise on your cheek.”

“I’ll live.” I felt lucky to have nothing worse than a bruised cheek and a puffy lip. “Thank God you came by.”

He sat on my sofa. “That motherfucker strong. Rung my bell.”

I explained what I’d learned from the police about Diesel.

“Hmm,” Little D said. “I recall the name, but it’s not one I’ve heard on the streets.”

“Probably hangs out on different streets than you.”

Little D chuckled. “Could be. So this Diesel all worried about some photos and shit in a box.”

“That’s what he was asking me about, while he was trying to barbecue my hand.”

“Well, wait until you see this disc.” He sounded disgusted. He gestured toward the tower of electronics next to my TV. “You got a DVD player in there somewhere?”

“Sure,” I said. I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV and DVD player. I popped the dis

c in. Before closing the drawer, I said, “My guess is it’s the prototype for some new video game. Is that what it looked like to you?”

“Just play the thing. I should warn you, what’s on there ain’t pretty. If it’s for a video game, it’s some sick shit.”

I hit the button. The disc slid in and began to play. In a bedroom with stark walls, a young black girl went down on a light-skinned black man. Rap music played in the background. The girl looked to be Tina’s age. Maybe younger. The man moaned as she worked on him.

“That there’s the janitor, by the way,” Little D said.

“Jesus,” I said. I hit fast forward. The next scene involved the same girl and two other men. One entered her from behind, while the other got a blow job. Fast forward to another girl, stripping off her clothes, reciting a patter so filthy, a Marine would blush. A man watched her and jerked off. I recognized the other girl—Rochelle.

“Phew. Damn,” Little D said. “This ain’t no easier to watch the second time. Turn it off.”

“Wait,” I said. I continued to buzz through the sleaze featuring several men and a number of girls involved in lots of oral sex and stripping, a ménage a trois, and numerous ejaculations. Any attempt at a storyline was well buried. The dates and times in the corner showed me the scenes had been shot over several days in the last couple of months. The actors, if you could call them that, were all adolescent black girls and older black men. I locked onto a young girl sucking off a man as she fondled his balls.

“Tina,” I said, with numb disbelief.

“Sheee-it,” Little D said.

The scenes were so shocking, it didn’t hit me at first: The date and time confirmed that Tina had done this last Wednesday night. The night Shanae was murdered.

I kept watching . . . couldn’t tear myself away. A second scene with Tina, coupled with the first, established that from 6:00 to at least 7:36 Wednesday night she’d been busy working on a promising porn star career. No wonder she was late with homework assignments. Where was she later that evening? It was anyone’s guess. I noted that Rochelle’s last scene took place at 7:48.

Little D retrieved the disc. I shut everything off.

“Damn,” I said. “Shanae was murdered between six and eight. A witness thinks she saw Tina leaving her house a little after eight. I can’t even use her extracurricular activities to establish an alibi.” I paused to reconsider what I’d said and slapped my forehead. “Or can I? I don’t know where this was recorded. Maybe Tina didn’t have time to get to her house before eight—a period of less than twenty-four minutes. That’s when the witness saw a kid leave the house. I don’t think this was recorded in Rochelle’s room. Tina told me they were at Rochelle’s all night.”

“That didn’t look like no teenaged girl’s room to me,” Little D said.

“Wherever they were, Tina was there until at least 7:36 and Rochelle until 7:48. Where was this place, and how did they get there?”

“Rochelle coulda driven her mama’s car.”

“She’s only thirteen.”

“You think that stop her?”

I nodded. “Good point. But Tanya—Rochelle’s mother—had to go to the hospital that night. Her sister came by. She would’ve noticed if the car was gone, don’t you think?”