The Twins

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Chapter Fifteen

Isis arrived at the Double 0 precinct a little after eight. She made herself a cup of green tea, then she walked over to the window and looked at the street below. It was a beautiful Sunday morning. Isis loved the way the neighborhood around the Double 0 looked on Sunday mornings.

As she sipped on her green tea, she thought about her night with Annette Toni. God, I’m a lesbian, she thought. Although Isis had had two serious relationships in her young life, she had never experienced an orgasm. Never. The feeling was overwhelming, and Isis wanted to experience it again.

She was smiling when Lt. Stone approached her cubicle. “You look like you’re planning a trip to Hawaii or something, or could it be that you know who our killers are?”

The sound of Lt. Stone’s voice startled the detective, and she spilled a little of her tea onto her blouse. “Oh, L.T. I didn’t see you walk up,” she said, as she wiped the liquid off herself. He asked her how the case was going. Isis told her boss where she was at this point in the investigation. Lt. Stone also asked his detective about Taylor. Isis didn’t tell her boss about Taylor disappearing at one of the crime scenes, or that he smelled like sex when he’d returned. ” He’s working out pretty good, sir.”

“Well, keep me posted on further developments,” Lt. Stone said as he walked away from Isis’s cubicle.

Taylor walked into the squad forty-five minutes later. He made a beeline toward the coffee machine.

“Good morning to you, too,” Isis said. She watched him as he fumbled with the coffee cups. “Are you okay, dude?”

Taylor was silent.

“Taylor, you hear me talking to you? Taylor!”

Taylor flinched. “Yeah, yeah, good morning, good morning.” Taylor was torn up over the fact that he’d had sex with a minor. He sat down at his desk and tried to act normal.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Isis asked

“I had a fucking argument with my wife,” he lied. He sat back in his chair, and when he brought the coffee cup up to his lips, his hands were shaking.

“Well, that’s personal,” Isis said. “So, what happened with that witness...Tina Smalls?” Isis noticed the way Taylor reacted when she mentioned the witness’ name. Isis could tell what had gone down. “Taylor, you know how dangerous it is to fraternize with potential witnesses,” she whispered. “You can blow this whole damn case if you’re not careful.”

Taylor spat his coffee back into his cup. “What are you saying…” Taylor faked his anger as he jumped out of his chair.

“Sit the hell down,” Isis said. Taylor looked into Isis’ eyes and did what she said.

“I told you that I had an argument with my wife.”

Isis looked her partner over. “So, why did you act so strange when I mentioned the witness’ name?”

“Did I?”

“Yes, you did, dude. But I apologize.”

Taylor went on to give Isis a fictitious account of what happened with his interview with Tina Smalls. Then he told her about Tanya Jamerson’s co-workers and what they had to say about the dead woman. Isis sat back in her chair and sighed.

“Well, we got an A.P.B. out on the girls from the surveillance videos.”

Isis and Taylor spent the rest of the morning going over the videos from The State Building. Isis checked her watch. “Let’s go grab a whopper, I’m hungry.”

The two detectives sat at a table at Burger King for fifteen minutes before Taylor’s cell phone went off. He checked it and saw it was Tina Smalls.

“Listen, Isis, need you to cover for me--”

“What’s happened now?”

“It’s my wife, she wants to talk.” Taylor stood up to leave. “I should be back in an hour.”

Isis watched as her partner left Burger King; she reached over the table and picked up Taylor’s whopper.


Stacey and Jannifer walked up to the admissions desk at N.Y.U. They’d signed up for a course in theater. Next, they’d went to visit The Victims of Child Abuse in Soho, where they donated 50,000 dollars each. From there, the twins took a cab to Midtown Manhattan. The cab stopped in front of the Taz building, and the twins took an elevator to the sixth floor. Stacey and Jannifer were there to see the Assistant Director of the Louis and Mary Leakey Foundation for Battered Women.

As soon as the girls entered the office, a middle-aged woman in her late forties approached the twins, her arm extended. “Hi, I’m Barbara Fitz, the Assistant Director of the Louis and Mary Massey’s Foundation for Battered Women.” Jannifer shook the woman’s hand first, then Stacey.

“I’m so pleased to meet you two. When I heard that you girls wanted to donate to the foundation, and the amount that you’re willing to give, well...I just can’t thank you two enough. Please, come. Let’s go into my office.”

Once inside the office, Stacey and Jannifer removed their checkbooks from their purses, signed their respected checks, and handed them over to Mrs. Fitz. “This is so generous of you two.” Mrs. Fitz had asked the girls were they sisters. Stacey told her that they were cousins. The women had chit-chatted for a few minutes before there was a tap on the door and a man stepped into Mrs. Fitz’s office.

“May I come in?” Mrs. Fitz introduced the man as Mr. Kyle Douglas, the director of the foundation.

Stacey and Jannifer rose to their feet and stared at the man as if his very presence disturbed them. He smiled and reached out his hand. The twins did not take it. Mrs. Fitz broke the awkward silence by saying, “Mr. Douglas, these lovely young ladies have just donated 50,000 dollars apiece to the foundation, isn’t that lovely?”

Mr. Douglas placed his hands into his front pockets.

Stacey told the assistant director that she and her cousin had to leave. Mrs. Fitz embraced the generous young ladies as Mr. Douglas watched. Jannifer noticed that the Motherfuckin’ Fatherfuckin’ pig had his hands stuffed into his pockets--he was massaging his penis.


Isis had been back at the Double 0 for over an hour, but Taylor had not yet returned. Lt. Stone had passed her desk twice, and each time he’d asked about her partner, and each time she lied. She grabbed her cell phone and headed toward the exit. When she got to the parking lot, she saw Taylor stepping out of his car. It was half an hour before their tour ended.

“Where the hell have you been? Do you know I had to lie for you?” she shouted as she marched up to him. She had to restrain herself from punching him.

“My wife...she’s--”

“I don’t give a damn about your personal problems, Taylor! I had to lie for you and I don’t like doin’ that.”

Taylor said nothing.

“So what the fuck do you have to say?”

Taylor could not look his partner in the eyes. “I’m sorry. I fucked up.”

He lifted his head and ran his hands through his hair as he tried to find something else to say. Isis sucked her teeth, exhaled, and shook her head. “I’ll see you in the morning, dude,” she said as she walked away. Isis stopped a few feet away from Taylor. She turned to face him and said,” I’m not gonna lie for you again, dude. Leave that witness alone, Taylor. Stop whatcha doin’ man, or you’ll find yourself in a whole mess of trouble.


Isis sat at a table in Starbucks sipping on a double Mochaccino latte with steamed skim milk. She thought about Taylor and the problems that he was going through. Then she thought about her own problems. She had no idea how to patch things up with her sister. And after what had happened at Pathmark, she’d all but given up.

Then there was the problem about her sexuality. Or, was it a problem? Isis Williams was of the old school...a school where narrow minds roamed: where a man was made for woman and a woman was made for man. Anything else was a sin. Or was it?

Isis stared at a lesbian couple as they ambled by Starbucks. They were holding hands and acting like lovers. She smiled. Like other women her age, Isis wanted the husband, the kids, and the white picket fence. She wanted the life that all young women dreamed of. Is that impossible now? Am I a sinner? she thought. Isis order another latte as she mused over her sexuality. So what if she’s not a man? Who says that it has to be that way? Man and woman? Is God going to send me to hell for loving a woman? She wouldn’t do that, Isis thought. God wouldn’t do that.

Isis had a bad habit of moving her lips when she was in a deep conversation with herself. A man and a woman, who were sitting at the table to her right, were staring. Isis removed her Smartphone from her shirt pocket and speed-dialed Annette Toni. Her first words were, “Can I come over?”

Toni asked Isis to bring some Chinese food. Isis brought Toni an order of beef fried rice with a couple of egg rolls on the side, and she’d bought herself an order of fried chicken wings with roasted pork fried rice. The detectives sat at Toni’s kitchen table, ate their food, and talked about their lives. Toni told Isis that she’d always been attracted to girls.

“As long as I can remember, I’ve been this way,” she told her new girlfriend.

“Is this a way? Our sexuality?” Isis asked. She pushed away her plate and waited for Toni’s response.

“Well, I used the term, ‘this way,’ because a high percentage of the women that are lesbians were born that way--like me, for instance. On the other hand, a person like yourself, who’d never had a lesbian experience—before last night—might have had a bad relationship with a man, or you might’ve never had an orgasm while having sex with a guy…female sexuality is fluid, Isis. We, as women, have a more appreciable erotic plasticity than men. In other words, ‘women will paddle both ways before a man will.’”

Isis nodded. “You’ve never been with a man?”

“Never.”

“Well, I fall right into both of those categories. With my first love, I never had an orgasm...” Isis paused, “And when I was with Raymond—”

“Raymond who? Not Raymond Johnson at forensic,” Toni said, cutting Isis off.

Isis swallowed hard. “Yeah, Raymond Johnson. Why?”

“Oh, nothing...”

“What, you know something I don’t know?”

“No, no. I just didn’t think he was your type.”

“Well, as it turned out, he wasn’t.” The women laughed. Isis watched Toni as she removed the cartons of Chinese food from the table.

“I’ve would’ve guessed that you’d be more into the Denzel type…” Toni said as she placed the dishes into the sink. Toni was wearing a pair of cut-off shorts and a midriff. Her jet-black hair flowed over her shoulders. Isis walked up behind Toni and kissed her neck. Toni moaned and said, “Hey baby, don’t start nothing you can’t finish.”

Isis placed one hand on Toni’s breast and pinched her nipple. The other slipped down the front of Toni’s shorts. “I plan on finishing, Detective Annette Toni.”

Isis awoke the next morning to the smell of coffee and bacon. She walked into Toni’s kitchen, nude. “That smells good, baby.”

Toni turned. “Oh, you’re up.” She stared at Isis’s naked body. “It’s beautiful, baby, but you’re not sitting your bare ass at my breakfast table. Go. Put something on.”

Isis returned carrying her Smartphone and wearing one of Toni’s robes. After breakfast, Isis and Toni discussed the recent murders that plagued the city.

“You’re the profiler, so tell me, who the hell am I after?” Isis asked.

Toni removed the salt and pepper from the table. “I believe that you’re looking for two female serial killers who have something against penises—”

“Or a group of girls. Taylor thinks that a group of teenage girls are roaming the streets and committing these murders.”

Toni nodded. “That would account for the discrepancies in the witnesses’ accounts. Didn’t one of them say that the suspects were crackheads and another witness stated that they looked like high school girls?”

“Yes. We’ve got videos of two girls coming in and out of the State Building. And they didn’t look like crackheads to me…”

“And the girls that did the boy in Wagner project. Didn’t one of the witnesses say that one of the girls was bald?”

“Yeah,” Isis said as she placed a glass in the sink. “These freakin’ girls sound like chameleons--” Isis froze like an ice sickle

“What’s wrong?” Toni asked.

“What if these two girls are just that: two girls?” Isis turned and faced Toni. “What if they’re using disguises? That’d fit better than Taylor’s theory about a team of girls.”

“Yeah, I like that. They would have had ample time to change between murders.”

Isis had a faraway look in her eyes. Her lips were moving, but no sound came out. Then she said, “But what’s their motive? Why would they kill in such a way? They’ve been viciously molested,” Isis said, answering her own questions.

“A bald-headed crackhead one day and a high school student the next. These girls sound like actresses to me,” Toni said as she stared at her girlfriend. Toni glanced at her watch. “We’ve got to get ready for work.” Toni gave Isis a sexy look, then she turned her back to Isis and slowly began to remove her boxer shorts. Isis’ eyes were glued to Toni’s ass. If Isis had a penis, it would’ve been harder than a diamond right now.

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