Loves Redemption

grabbed the thick white towel hanging on the hook and
wrapped it around her before he swiped his body with the matching towel.
When they were reasonably dry he lifted her from the shower to lay with her on the bed,
complete after their heart-pounding lovemaking. He gathered her close and listened to their combined heartbeats before he spoke.
* * * *
“Yesterday at dinner I asked why you went into psychology. How did it lead you to
Imani House?”
After their heated lovemaking in the shower, it took Maya a moment before she could
speak coherently. She cuddled closer to his large frame as she considered his questions. She’d been asked the same question many times by some of her intern students. She’d always given a stock answer that she’d always been interested in the workings of the human psyche. This time, for Mark, she stopped and thought about her reasons before answering.
“I started working at Imani House when it was best labeled a halfway house. It was the
type of place women could come to when they had nowhere else to go. It was a very eclectic
group of women who’d all come in search of a safe place,” she said. As she spoke, his hands kneaded her scalp in a soothing massage.
“I came to the center as I was working on my dissertation. It seemed like a good place to
finish my hours to complete my practicum. At the time, the programs the shelter used weren’t working. They used limited sources and specific techniques for a wide range of problems. The result was no one received the help they needed to give any long-term change.”
“That makes sense. How long had they’d been operating like that? Didn’t they have any
government funding?”
“If the current political environment is more liberal then typically there’s more money
available for social services programs. If it’s a conservative atmosphere, then pickings are slim, and you learn pretty quick how to be resourceful for your program.”
“Not enough government support of their programs was Imani House’s problem?”
“That, and they tried to help too broad a range of problems. They should have offered
fewer programs and run a smaller but more effective center.”
“How did you come to take over and transform it into what it now is?”
“I’d finished my dissertation when I found out the center was closing. Around the same
time, I’d inherited a large amount of money and property from my grandmother. When I found
out the center was closing, I knew what I wanted to do with the money,” she said.
As Maya shared her memories with him as they lay together, Mark knew she was sharing
an even deeper part of herself than she had when they’d made love. He tightened his arms around her; thankful she was opening up to him, giving him access into her world.

CHAPTER 17
“What can I do for you, Detective?” the clerk asked as Jordan walked into the evidence
room and approached his desk.
The tag around his neck showed the name James Smith. Jordan nodded his head. “I need
to take a look at a piece of evidence bagged for Guy Kross.”
“No problem, Detective. Give me a minute and I’ll get it for you.” He retreated to a back
room in search of the request.
As he waited for the clerk to return, Jordan took a look around the small room. It was
clean and organized. The clerk’s workspace didn’t have a thing out of place. The only things on his desk were organizational trays, clips and cups and traditional office equipment. Jordan wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a man’s desk so neat. He laughed out loud at his stereotypical thoughts.
“Here you are, Detective. I’ve also brought you a pair of gloves so you can handle the
evidence.” The clerk placed the plastic bag of evidence on the counter and handed the gloves to him with a small pair of tongs.
As the clerk bent over, the chain holding his nametag tangled with the thin gold of a
chain he wore beneath his shirt. When Jordan reached to help, he adroitly moved aside and
untangled them unassisted.
With a small smile he said, “This happens all the time, ever since they switched from pin
name tags to hanging ones. There, I got it.” He placed the gold chain back inside his shirt.
“Aren’t you one of the detectives on the slayer case?” he asked.
“Yes, Detective Halstan and I have been assigned to work it exclusively,” Jordan said, as
he put on gloves and opened the evidence bag.
“Detective Halstan. I saw him on the news with that nasty Alicia Somers. She is so
irritating; why they let her interview anyone is beyond me. She has the inquisitive skills of a flying gnat.” A look of disgust crossed the clerk’s pinched features.
“What?!” Jordan asked on a choked laugh.
“Oh nothing, I’m sorry. I don’t like that woman at all. She’s so pushy.”
“Yeah well I think they’re all like that. It’s the nature of their job,” Jordan mumbled, his mind on the contents of the bag. After he finished his perusal, he took off the plastic gloves and returned the evidence to the clerk.
“Was there something in particular you were looking for, Detective?”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh nothing. I wanted to know if there was anything else I could help you with?” he
asked with a small smile.
“No, that was all, thanks.” Jordan said, and left the room.
As soon as the clerk was once again alone in the room, the smile dropped from his face,
and was replaced with a frown. He picked up the phone to make a call.
* * * *
“Our girl hit again,” Mark said to Jordan as soon as his partner returned to the squad
room. He led the way as both shouldered their weapons and left the precinct and headed toward the parking garage.
As soon as they arrived at the taped off area of the murder scene, they were immediately
met by one of the crime technicians. “Good