The Case of the Lipstick Killer

He was parked about a block and a half away from the same black Dodge Challenger SRT parked in the driveway, waiting for the group of assholes that assaulted him and Danny the night before to show up. Dooley's car wasn't as flashy as a Dodge SRT, but it would do just fine. He drove a restored 2011 Lincoln Town Car. Dooley was small, and a large Lincoln made him feel safe and secure. They discontinued making the Lincoln Town Car after 2011. After Dooley had this one restored, it was almost like new.

And the trunk was large enough to hold at least five people or one person with an M2010 Enhanced Sniper Rifle. Dooley was small enough to fit through the hole behind the armrest in the center of the backseat, so no one saw him when he moved from the car cabin to the trunk.

He could open the trunk just enough to sight his sniper rifle downrange while keeping the entire barrel inside the compartment, which eliminated the chance that someone outside could see the gun barrel protruding from the trunk. Snipers were always reluctant to show and tell. Dooley used a bungee cord to prevent the trunk lid from opening any more than necessary.

After spending several years as a sniper, where Dooley and his spotter would sometimes be required to spend days waiting in one spot for a target to become available, he was nothing if not patient.

He lay halfway curled up in his Lincoln Town Car's trunk with the weapon aimed down the block and a half where the SRT was parked--waiting for payback.

Lady luck found Dooley after waiting for about an hour and a half. The same three idiots from the night before were slowly strolling down the street like they owned the neighborhood. Which, for all intents and purposes, they probably did, through intimidation and coercion of local residents.

The three men stood confidently on the sidewalk in front of the black Challenger, smoking marijuana and talking about jive-ass nothing that wasn't meaningful to anyone but them.

In the middle of a sentence, the first man, Dominic, fell to the ground, writhing in pain as he held his right thigh. One of Dooley's.300 Winchester Magnum bullets just ripped through Dominic's thigh without hitting the bone, which was Dooley's intent.

Almost simultaneously, the second man, Bobby, also fell to the ground holding his left thigh, which had a big hole in it from Dooley's sniper round. Again, Dooley missed the bone on purpose. Big Mo, the third punk, didn't need to wait for what might happen next, and he started running up the street screaming like a little girl. He got about six steps before one of Dooley's magnum bullets tore into his left buttock, knocking him down to the sidewalk on his face.

The quiet night air was temporarily interrupted by the screams from the three young men who had just felt the wrath of Dooley and Baby.

At least two neighborhood residents had already dialed 911 to report the raucous screaming.

Dooley moved from the trunk back into the passenger compartment of his Town Car, moved to the front seat, and then casually drove away from the scene, unnoticed, unheard.

Those bastards are lucky. I could have ended them all. Bang.

The last thing you ever want to do is piss Dooley off. Just ask the three punks leaking blood all over the sidewalk on Elmhurst Avenue.

NIKKI FONTAINE INVESTIGATIONS

GRAND AVENUE, OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA

February 6, 9:30 a.m.

"Hey, y'all," said Max as she strolled into the office.

"Hi, Max," replied Nora, who looked at her more like lunch than a new member of the agency. Nora had no problem admiring or getting with beautiful woman of a darker persuasion.

"Miss Dupree," said Barton in a formal tone. "So nice to see you again."

"Well, thank you, Barton," replied Max.

I stood up at my desk and motioned for Max to come into my office.

"Hi, Max. Long time no see," I said with a little smile. "I had a nice time yesterday at the Kona Club. Great Mai Tais, and great company."

"I agree, Nikki. Great Mai Tais," replied Max, displaying a wide grin. "Just kidding. The Mai Tais played second fiddle to the company. I enjoyed hanging out with you, Nikki."

"All right. So here's the employment contract I made up for you. Please take it home and go over it, and if it meets your expectations, just sign it and bring it back. Or if you have any questions, let me know, and we'll figure it all out."

"Wonderful," said Max. She took a glance at the salary clause and replied, "I'm sure this will work out. I'll bring it back tomorrow."

"Great," I replied. "So, believe it or not, I have a case I want you to do some work on."

"Fantastic. What have you got?" replied Max.

"I think you'll find this case fascinating. Here's the file. Go ahead and get yourself up to speed on the facts.

"I want you to find out where Gwen Stein came from before she relocated to Oakland. Where there's smoke, there's fire. I want you to find out if there are any unsolved murders in the last place that she called home. I don't want to show you all my cards, but--well, what the fuck. I'll show you my cards. I think this bitch is a serial murderer. I want you to find out if I'm right. But, heads up, Max. If she is who I think she is, she won't think twice about coming after you. So please be careful. I'm looking forward to having you be a part of our little family here."

"I feel the same way. I feel like I fit in here. And thank you for trusting me enough to turn me loose on a case like this. I won't let you down. And just so you know, I'm always packing. So if this bitch comes after me, she'll be the one who regrets it. I'll start this afternoon and see if I can set up a meeting with Gwen."

"Wonderful," I said. "Just keep me in the loop."

"Will do, boss," replied Max. "So, where do I set up around here?"

"Oh. I guess you need an office, don't you? Follow me."

I led Max to the far side of the office.

"Here, meet your new office," I said as I stood in the doorway and held my arm up, pointing to the previously unoccupied office.

"This is perfect," said Max. "I'll make you proud."

"You can move your stuff in at your leisure. Just let me know if there's anything else you need, and I'll take care of it."

"Let me see if I can get ahold of Gwen, and I'll try to push some of her buttons."

"Go get her, Max," I said with a smile. "Oh. Here's an office credit card to cover any expenses that come up. Just let me know if you're going to spend more than $250 at a time. I'm just trying to keep an eye on expenses. You know how that goes." "I understand. I'll keep you posted."

HIGHLAND HOSPITAL, OAKLAND

February 6, 2:35 p.m.

Danny was sleeping when Dooley quietly came into his room. He looked more like a mummy. It was a scene that gave you a creepy feeling like you just entered a Twilight Zone episode. Dooley walked over and sat in a chair next to the bed, waiting for Danny to eventually wake up.

Dooley started talking about stupid things to see if that would evoke any response from his friend. Danny finally opened his eyes and smiled when he saw Dooley sitting there.

"Dude, I'm not dead yet. I'm just taking a nap. What's going on? Did the cops catch those bastards that attacked us?"

"The police said there's not much they can do because I couldn't give them accurate enough descriptions of those guys for them to make any arrests. But that's okay. Baby and I paid them a little visit last night. They won't be attacking anyone else for a while."

"Tell me you didn't, Dooley."

"Didn't what? Kill them? No, I didn't kill anybody. Let's just say they won't be running any marathons for a while."

"Oh, shit. That was you?" exclaimed Danny.

"What was me?" asked Dooley.

"It was on the news today, man. All three of them are in the hospital--this hospital. Fortunately, they're on another floor. Not sure they'd recognize you or me, but try not to bump into them. That's the last thing we need is the OPD climbing up our asses. They're all supposed to live. I guess you showed them some mercy."

"I could have taken all three of them out, but I'm not a cold-blooded killer--unless I'm in uniform and on the job overseas with some bad guys sighted in my scope."

"I just hope you don't get caught for this," said Danny.

"No one saw me. I was parked almost two blocks away, and I fired on them from inside the trunk of my car."

"You'd better hide Baby in case the cops show up asking questions."

"Already done. I tucked Baby away safely in our storage unit."

"Hey. I'm feeling drained. I think I'm going to slip off into another nap. I've been taking a lot of those. Is it okay if you come back later to visit?" asked a rapidly fading Danny.

"No problem, man. I'll see you tomorrow. Let me know if you need me to bring you anything. Okay? Danny? Well, shit. That didn't take long."

Dooley leaned over and gave Danny a light kiss on the lips, then closed the door going out.

THE CORNER OF E. 14TH STREET AND 43RD AVENUE

OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA

February 7, 3:10 p.m.

The man driving the light silver 2018 Audi A3 pulled cautiously to the curb, rolled down his passenger window and waited for the young white kid trying to look all gangsta standing on the corner to walk over to his car.

"What'chu want, man?" asked the young man.

"You got any snow? I'll take some speed if you're out of coke."

"I got both. Here's some coke," said the man as he pulled a small clear packet from his pocket.

"How much?"

"Fifty."

"Here you go."

He handed the man $50 and took the packet in return, rolled up his window, and drove off.

After one block, the unmarked police car turned on its portable red flashing light sitting on the dashboard and beeped the siren to get the Audi to pull over.

"Oh, shit," said the driver, who quickly tucked the packet of cocaine up under his dashboard and tried to look innocent as he pulled over and rolled down his window.

"Where is it?" asked the plainclothes officer.

"Where is what?" asked the driver.

"I know you just bought some coke from that young man on the corner. You can either hand it over to me, or my partner and I will tear your car apart until we find it."

The driver thought for a second and realized he was caught. He slowly reached back under his dash and retrieved the small packet of cocaine.

"Here it is. It's only half a gram. I use it to control pain from an old injury. I've tried marijuana, but that seems to have lost the magic it once had."

"Sorry, sir, but cocaine is still illegal. I'm afraid I'm going to have to place you under arrest. On top of that, Oakland has a car seizure law for buying drugs or soliciting for prostitution. We will impound your car, and the City will sell it at auction, with the proceeds going into a special fund set up by the City. Please step out of your car and turn around with your hands behind your back."

NIKKI FONTAINE INVESTIGATIONS

GRAND AVENUE, OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA

February 7, 5:30 p.m.

"Hey, Max, before you go, in addition to interviewing Gwen Stein, see if you can get ahold of Jackie's current girlfriend, Lani, or whatever name she goes by. Jesus. You need a scorecard to keep up with these people."

"Kinda like straight people, huh?" Max shot back.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. People are people regardless of all the shit that goes into making us all who we are."

"I think you could use a little of that, Nikki," said Max.

"A little of what?"

"A scorecard. You're way too fine to have such a dead sex life," replied Max.

"Let me know how the interviews go, Max. Bye-bye."

"Talk soon," said Max as she walked towards the door and out into the dark Oakland night.

Just as Max walked out, my direct line lit up, and the phone rang. Nora was gone for the day, so incoming calls went to the answering service unless it was a direct call.

"This is Nikki Fontaine."

"Nikki, this is Barton."

"What's up, Barton, that couldn't wait until tomorrow?" I replied.

"The OPD arrested me, and I need you to bail me out."

"What? What's going on? Arrested for what?"

"I bought a tiny amount of coke from a guy on the street, and it was a sting operation run by the OPD. They busted me and seized my car. They're going to sell my fucking car!"

"Oh, jeez. Where are you?"

"I'm at the jail down at 550 6th Street. It's right off of Broadway."

"Okay. I'll get there as soon as I can, Barton. Jesus, man. We've got many things popping up right now, and I'm going to need your help. You're gonna have to do something about your coke problem. You can't do your job if you can't control this shit."

"I know. I know. I will take care of it."

After slamming my phone down and letting loose with a string of profanity, I grabbed my coat and headed for my car. Dammit, Barton.

OAKLAND POLICE DEPARTMENT GANG INVESTIGATION TASK FORCE

February 8, 10:35 a.m.

Detectives Manny Sanchez and Donte Johnson worked the OPD Gang Investigation Task Force, and they were at their desks working on paperwork and going through evidence in their latest case. An unknown person or persons had shot three black men on the streets of Oakland, and the case landed at the detectives' desk a few days ago. They were awaiting the ballistics report from the bullet retrieved from one of the victim's buttocks before proceeding any further. Unfortunately, shootings like this were an all too frequent occurrence in Oakland.

"Hey, Manny. You know that shooting on Elmhurst the other night where somebody shot three men, including one who got shot in the ass?" asked Detective Johnson.

"Yeah. What about it?" asked Manny.

"Just got the ballistics report back on the slug they pulled out of the guy's butt."

"So, what was it? Forty-five? Nine mil?"

"No, smartass, it was a.300 Winchester Magnum."

"That sounds like rifle ammo," said Manny.

"It is. But here's what's interesting. Hunters use bullets like this for hunting big bears, like Grizzly bears."

"Jesus Christ. What's someone doing using these on the streets?"

"Here's one more thing that I find most interesting. Snipers also use.300 Winchester Magnum ammo," said Johnson.

"Snipers? Is someone starting a war that we don't know about?" asked Manny.

"Looks like it. I think I'm gonna look a little closer at those two tow truck drivers that got attacked the other night in this same neighborhood. Maybe there's more to this case than meets the eye. I'm starting to smell something, and I don't like it."

"Yeah, I think you might be on to something. What were those two guys' names? Danny and Doolittle?" asked Manny.

"Danny and Dooley," replied Donte.

"Yeah, Danny and Dooley. Isn't one of them still over at Highland?"

"Yes, that's Danny. He got whacked in the head with a baseball bat. So we know it wasn't him. Let's check out his partner, this Dooley guy," said Donte.

OAKLAND SOUP AND SANDWICH SHOP

123 JACK LONDON SQUARE

February 8, 2:30 p.m.

Max strolled into the sandwich shop, looking more like she was heading out for a night on the town rather than a foray into a lunch joint. Max immediately caught Gwen's eye. Who is this black beauty? thought Gwen, trying not to drool.

The mysterious woman had captured Gwen's undivided attention just by walking in the door.

Max walked up to the counter where Gwen was standing and started talking.

"You wouldn't happen to be Gwen Stein, would you?" asked Max.

"That would be me," replied Gwen. "Do I know you?"

"Not yet," said Max.

Max could tell that Gwen was acting a little flirty with her. She didn't mind because Gwen was quite pretty.

"Hi, Gwen. My name is Max, and I'm a private investigator looking into the murder of Brad Morrison a little over a week ago."

"Oh," replied Gwen.

Max could see Gwen's demeanor and facial expression change in a heartbeat. The thrill that had walked in with Max just ran back out the exit door.

"Yes. My firm represents Jackie Morrison. The police seem to think she is the main person of interest in Brad's murder. After we interviewed Jackie, we don't think she's guilty of anything except maybe a little overindulgence of alcohol.

"I understand you refuted Jackie's story when you were talking to the police. She said she spent time with you at the Kona Club that night having drinks, and you said that never happened.

"Is that still the case? You're saying you didn't see Jackie that night at the Kona Club?"

"Look. Jackie broke up with me some time back, and we haven't seen each other since. She's been spending all her free time with her new girlfriend du jour, Lani, or something. All I know is that she's Hawaiian. Someone told me that she's pretty cute." "Yes, her name is Lani, and she is Hawaiian," said Max. "I don't know much about that or their relationship. So how were things between the two of you before you broke up? Was it a quiet relationship, or was it one filled with arguments and fireworks?"

"I thought everything was fine. I loved that woman. Then one night, boom, she dumped me for this Lani babe. She broke my heart. I don't know what else I can say," replied Gwen.

"Did Jackie ever get physically abusive with you? Did you ever get abusive towards her?" asked Max.

"No, none of that. As I say, I thought everything was fine until Jackie dropped an anvil on my head."

"Okay. Just one more question, and then I'll let you get back to work, Gwen. And I appreciate you taking the time to talk with me.

"Where did you live before you came to Oakland?"

"That's a strange question," replied Gwen.

"Just background stuff for the file. I won't ask you what kind of grades you got in grammar school or anything like that, I promise."

"Well, I guess it doesn't matter. Before Oakland, I lived in Fresno for about seven years. And before that, I lived in San Diego, which is where I grew up."

"Thank you so much, Gwen. Y'all have been a doll. Have a great day," said Max as she gave Gwen a warm smile, turned around, and left.

"Feel free to come by anytime if you have any more questions, Max," said Gwen, who grinned and thought inappropriate thoughts as she watched Max sway her magnificent body as she walked away.

MAX'S CAR PARKED ON THE STREET

February 8, 2:55 p.m.

Let's see. Where is Lani's cell number? Oh, here it is. Let's see if she can talk with me.

"Hi, this is Lani," she said as she answered Max's call.

"Hi, Lani. My name is Max, and I'm with Nikki Fontaine Investigations. We represent Jackie Morrison in regards to the murder of her husband recently. She gave us your number. Would it be possible for me to come by and talk with you this afternoon?"

"I guess that would be okay. I'm home right now. I won't be leaving for another couple of hours, so if you want to drop by now, I can talk to you. I'll be visiting the gym for my daily workout afterward. I live in the Lantana Uptown Apartments at 625 16th Street, in Oakland, Apartment 324. Ring the button when you get here, and I'll buzz you up."

"Thank you, Lani. I'll be there in about 20 minutes or so."

LANTANA UPTOWN APARTMENTS

OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA

February 8, 3:30 p.m.

Max walked over to the elevator after Lani buzzed her in and pushed the third-floor button.

"Let's see. 320, 322--here it is. 324," said Max out loud as she walked down the plushly-carpeted hallway.

As Max raised her hand to knock on the door to Apartment 324, the door opened, and Max was greeted by Lani's beautiful smile.

"Hi, Max," said Lani. "So nice to meet you."

"Same here," replied Max. "Wow, you are really quite lovely. Jackie's description didn't do you justice." Max reached her hand out and shook Lani's delicate hand.

"What can I do for you, Max."

"Well, I just have a few questions about you and Jackie, just to make sure I have everything I need in our file to do our best to help Jackie out."