WHEN THE MUSIC DIES (MUSIC CITY MURDERS Book 1) (22 page)

“Oh, no. You can go and be with your family. I’m fine. Make sure you kiss that darling little man for me.” Sarah handed back the wallet photo of three year old Tyson McCord.

“I’ll be glad to,” she looked at the photo and then at her watch, “but it may be tomorrow. It’s past his bedtime.” Officer McCord leaned over and hugged Sarah. “Hang in there, honey. You’ll get through this. These guys are two of Nashville’s best.” She handed Sarah her card. “You call me anytime if you want to talk, okay? Anytime.”

“Thanks, Tonya,” Sarah said. “You’re a doll.”

“Don’t tell anybody.” Tonya winked. “I’ll see ya’ll later.”

“We’ll try to make this as brief as possible, Ms. Jennings,” Mike said.

“Call me Sarah.”

“Thanks, Sarah. How did you and Daran Hamid come to know each other?”

She took a deep breath. “A few months ago, I was shopping at the International Market. I had already paid for my groceries and was on my way to the door when I lost my grip on one of the bags. I had two pretty full bags and my purse. They still use brown paper bags there. The bag hit the floor hard. My large jar of tahini broke and the sesame oil that sits on top went everywhere.

“I sat down my other bag and my purse and tried to gather up the things that weren’t broken. I guess I must have stepped in some of the oil and when I reached for a jar of chick peas, I slipped and started to fall. The chick peas went flying and shattered when they hit the floor. I was reaching out behind me, flailing my arms around like a crazy woman trying to catch myself and just as I was doing this windmill act, Daran came into the store. He caught me under both my arms, saved me and stood me up.”

She stopped. Her face filled with emotion and she fished through her pocket for another tissue. “I’m sorry.”

Norm grabbed a box of tissues from Detective Vega’s desk and held it out.

“Thank you.”

Norm smiled his compassion as he thought of the Hallmark card.

“Daran was such a gentleman and a gentle man as well.” She blew her nose, gathered her emotions and continued.

“He grabbed another grocery bag, dropped to his knees and helped me pick up everything that wasn’t damaged or covered in sesame oil and chick peas. I remember laughing while we were picking things up, and saying to him, ‘So much for my hummus.’ The thick sesame paste oozed from the broken jar and was now slowly chasing the oil across the floor. It was such a mess. As soon as we collected all the usable items, Daran said, ‘I’ll be right back.’”

“He told me later he’d been a frequent customer of the market for over six years. He asked the manager to replace my damaged items. The manager must have approved and also agreed to clean up the mess I’d made. Daran went around the store collecting replacements for the items I’d broken. He helped me out to the car with my bags and wished me success with my hummus. He was so nice.

“I remember, while he was putting the bags in the car he asked if I had ever tried making hummus with puréed hazelnuts in place of tahini. He said, ‘It is awesome.’ I laughed at the way he said it, and told him I would give it a try.

“I asked him his name, and I gave him mine. I remember saying, ‘maybe I’ll see you again, Daran Hamid.’ He smiled that beautiful peaceful smile and said ‘I hope so, Sarah Jennings.’ That gave me a little chill. I knew it meant something.”

Sarah sniffled and grabbed more tissues.

“All the next week, I thought about how nice he was and how few men like that I’d met. I decided to call the market and ask the manager when Daran usually came in to do his shopping. He told me and the next time, by coincidence of course,” Sarah smiled, “I was there shopping when he came in. I spoke to him and we talked for a while. I guess we never stopped—until today.”

Sarah paused to wipe her eyes.

“He was a great friend. I was always comfortable with him, and I always felt safe. I was pretty sure our relationship was about to ... improve.”

“Improve?” Mike said.

“Romantically,” Sarah again grabbed for more tissues.

“I see,” Mike said.

“I fell in love with Daran. I’m pretty sure he was feeling the same.” She suddenly laughed through her tears; she held the tissue to her mouth and her whole body shook as she continued to sob. After a moment, she struggled to explain. “Last week we made hazelnut hummus together. It was awesome.”

Mike gave her a few moments before he continued his questions.

Norm knew now what he had to do with the Hallmark card once the criminalists were finished getting the sample of Hamid’s handwriting.

“Do you know of anyone who may have harbored hostility for Daran?” Mike asked.

“Only one.” She didn’t stop to think about her answer.

“Who?”

“Jimmy Dan Mullins.”

“Who is he, and what makes you say that?” Mike said, acting as if he knew nothing.

“I used to see him before Daran.”

“You dated?” Mike asked.

“Yes. Unfortunately.”

“Why do you say that?” Norm asked.

“He started out acting like a decent man, but the true Jimmy Dan soon came out.”

“What do you mean?” Mike asked.

“When we met, he was ‘acting’; acting like someone he wasn’t, but I didn’t know. He did a pretty good job of it. He was trying to get my attention and he knew in order to do that he would have to become someone else. In reality, he was nothing but another intolerant hate-filled redneck. It took me a while to see through the snow storm.”

“What cleared up the picture for you?” Norm asked.

“We were on our way to dinner one night. He said he wanted to stop off at a liquor store and get a bottle of good cheer for after our meal. He was checking his money as he got out of the car to go in, and when he looked up there were about a half dozen of what I realized were his drunken friends whom I had never met, nor heard about. They were all over him like long lost family. He kept looking back at me in the truck and trying to act like he didn’t know them. I rolled down my window enough to hear what they were saying. They were calling him by name and asking if I was the hot piece he had been telling them about. He jerked his head around to see if I was hearing this. That lit my fuse and clarified for me what had been going on with Jimmy Dan’s alter ego.”

“What happened then?” Norm asked.

“He came back to the truck and needless to say, we did not go to dinner nor did we have any good cheer. I demanded he take me home immediately, and I did not speak another word. I do, however, remember giving him some sign language as I slammed the door on his pickup.”

“So, was there a confrontation or a threat between Mullins and Daran?” Mike asked. “Did they meet face-to-face?”

“I don’t know of a direct one-on-one confrontation between the two of them. Daran never spoke of one that may have occurred when I wasn’t with him.

“Daran worked long hours and the only time we could see each other was during his breaks, so sometimes I picked up dinner and ate with him and his cousins. Jimmy Dan used to follow me, stalking me.”

“You saw him?” Mike asked.

“Oh, yes. A few weeks ago, he followed me into a building the guys were cleaning. We had begun to eat when he made this dramatic entrance and ranted that I had no business spending time with a bunch of ‘camel jockeys.’ I know this had to hurt their feelings. It made me furious. Daran stepped forward and told Jimmy Dan to leave, that he was on private property and was not wanted there. Jimmy Dan told Daran to shut the hell up before he sent him to a place a lot hotter than the big litter box he came from.”

Norm looked at Mike. “Sounds like a threat to me.”

“Then what happened?” Mike asked.

“Billy, the building security guard, walked in. He stopped everything and escorted Jimmy Dan out of the building. When we finished eating, Billy walked me out. Daran told me the next day Billy also walked out with them when they finished cleaning that night. Daran said they didn’t see Jimmy Dan again.”

“Did Daran mention Mullins making any other threats after that?” Mike asked.

“Daran never told me if he did,” Sarah said. “Yesterday I had to borrow Daran’s car because mine was in for service. I was at Hickory Hollow Mall. When I returned to the car, Jimmy Dan grabbed the door before I could get it closed. He scared the hell out of me. I tried to slap him, but he blocked it. I screamed at him to leave me alone. He stood there telling me to hang on, to wait a minute. I stopped screaming at him and told him to say what he came to say and then go away.

“He told me if I didn’t stop seeing Daran,
he
would stop it. He said I was embarrassing him. He said I had gone from dating him to seeing a rag-head, and he was not going to tolerate that. He sounded serious to me.

“After that, he slammed the car door and walked away. I was afraid he had damaged the door. Daran was so persnickety about his car. I hated that I had to borrow it. I was scared I would have a wreck or ...” Sarah stopped. “That reminds me. While we were having lunch at the capitol today, Daran told me that he had an accident this morning when he went to Mustafa’s to order the food. He said he was leaving the parking lot when a man hit his rear bumper and scratched it.”

Mike looked up at Norm who was making a note to check into the accident.

“Did you tell Daran about Mullins’ threat?” Mike asked.

“Yes, but he told me not to worry. He told me Jimmy Dan was jealous and just a lot of hot air. I explained I was worried about him and that Jimmy Dan had a lot of ugly friends. I think Daran was concerned himself, but he was trying to prevent me from being scared.” “Do you think Mullins is capable of killing Daran?” Mike asked. Sarah nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

Easy Street Tavern

Nashville, Tennessee

Tuesday Late Evening

“You shoulda seen that sucker’s face,” Jimmy Dan Mullins bragged. “That burrito didn’t know what hit him. I bet he didn’t even wake up til the next day.”

“What was he doin’, JD?” Ralph Hemphill asked.

“He was busy tryin’ to get up off the asphalt after I saw him swing his door into the side of my truck.”

“Did he do it on purpose?” Ralph asked.

“I don’t give a damn why he did it. I saw him do it, so I dropped him.”

“What the hell did you hit him with, JD?” Bobby Maddox said.

“My damn fist. Look.”

“JD, It mighta been an accident,” Ralph said.

“Tough shit. He shoulda been more careful,” Jimmy Dan said. “Man, my freakin’ knuckles are raw. I hope I don’t catch no disease.”

“JD, if you start orderin’ Coronas, I’m outta here.” Bobby laughed.

“Now that’s funny.” Ralph snorted.

“Uh-oh.” Bobby’s laugh was interrupted.

“What?” Ralph said. His head rotated in both directions.

“Gestapo at my two o’clock,” Bobby said.

“Ga-what?” Ralph turned around to see three uniformed MNPD officers talking with the club manager. “What do they want?” Ralph asked.

“Who knows?” Jimmy Dan said, still staring. “Chill out.”

Jimmy Dan and Bobby kept their eyes on the cops and continued to empty their longnecks. Ralph couldn’t resist looking over his shoulder to see what was happening.

The manager called over the club’s bouncer and head bartender. One of them nodded toward the trio and the cops started for their table.

“Oh, shit. Now what?” Bobby said.

“Keep it cool,” Jimmy Dan warned them. “Keep it cool.”

“Which one of you is Mullins?” the largest officer asked, while the other two took up positions on either side of the big man.

The beer guzzlers looked at each other like they weren’t sure who was who. Then Jimmy Dan said, “Well, if ya’ll ain’t gonna own up to it, I guess it’s me.”

“Do you have some ID?” the big officer asked.

Jimmy Dan fished out his driver’s license.

“We’d like you to come with us,” the officer said handing the license back.

“Whoa. What’s this about?”

“We were asked to escort you downtown to discuss anything you may know about a crime.”

“What crime?” Jimmy Dan asked, puzzled.

“They don’t tell us everything,” the officer said, stretching the truth.

“Maybe it’s a murder,” Ralph said, excited by the possibility.

“What murder?” Jimmy Dan asked, thinking this would be a good time for him to be the wrong Mullins.

“You’ll find out what the crime was when you get there, I’m sure. They just want to talk. Can we go now?”

“I’d rather drive my truck,” Jimmy Dan said.

“Mr. Mullins, you’ve been drinking. Based upon what the bartender told us, you may want to accept a ride rather than have us follow and then arrest you for DUI. What do you say? Let’s do the smart thing. We can bring you back when you’re done. Okay?”

“Jimmy Dan reached for his beer to finish it off, but before he could get it to his mouth, the big cop placed his huge black-gloved hand over the bottle and Mullins’s hand and pushed them both back down to the table with a loud bang.

“You won’t need that.” The officer kept his hand over the mouth of the bottle.

“I paid good money for that beer,” Jimmy Dan said, his misguided confidence convincing him his complaint might change the officer’s mind.

“And I’m sure your good buddies here will be glad to finish it off for you. Shall we go?”

Jimmy Dan pushed back from the table shaking his head.

“Call Harlan Norris,” Jimmy Dan said, as he tossed his keys to Bobby.

“Don’t worry JD,” Bobby said. “We got your back, man.”

Criminal Justice Center

Nashville, Tennessee

Tuesday Late Evening

“Which room is Mullins in?” Norm asked.

“Luxury suite number seven,” the sergeant said.

Norm pushed open the door to the interview room. This room was furnished with four modest, but comfortable, club chairs positioned facing each other around a low table in a casual setting meant to create a relaxed interview atmosphere. Number seven was normally used when speaking with victim’s families. Mike followed Norm in.

“Mr. James Daniel Mullins?” Norm asked.