We arrived at the home of Joe Francis on Barnard Street just north of West Gaston. Luckily, most addresses within the historic district didn’t take long to get to. Joe’s residence was literally four blocks from the last encounter the detectives had had with a victim—the man who walked out in front of Detective Rue as he drove north along Forsyth Park.
Joe lived on the first floor of a two-story brick duplex. We reached his door, and Renz knocked. I was sure Joe checked through the peephole first, as any smart person would, and I already had my badge facing the door. He opened it and welcomed us in.
Renz made the introductions, we offered our condolences, and Joe led the way to the kitchen, where we took seats at the table. The duplex was nicely furnished, and I assumed Joe did well in his chosen field.
He plopped down across from us and squeezed his temples. I saw anguish in his eyes as he stared at us.
“So, what happened, or should I ask when? Sunny and I talked yesterday afternoon, and everything was fine. She was going to stop by today so we could go over some footage before we showed the piece about the drug crisis in Savannah to our editor. For the last few weeks, we were filming, gathering information, and talking to people on the street.”
“In what kind of neighborhoods?” I asked.
Joe shrugged. “In all neighborhoods. That’s how prevalent drugs are lately. The cops make big busts, but a year later, it’s back to the way it was before the crackdown. It’s too easy for smugglers to bring things in. The narcotics task force can’t keep up with it, but I assume it’s a nationwide problem.”
“We heard from some of Sunny’s coworkers that she was focused on K2.”
Joe rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Yeah, it’s getting bad again. It’s banned, but then the formulation changes and it pops up again and spreads like wildfire. I just don’t get the appeal. It’s far more dangerous than weed since nobody, except for the people producing it, really knows what chemical additives go into it.” He looked from Renz to me. “Her death must have raised a red flag for some reason. Why else would the FBI be involved?”
I gave my partner a glance then told Joe only what we could. “There’s been three suspicious deaths in less than twenty-four hours, with Sunny’s being the first one. At this point, we and the PD are trying to get information from the victims’ friends, neighbors, and coworkers since we’re in a holding pattern until Sunny’s tox screen comes in tomorrow.”
“So you think she died of a drug overdose? Sunny didn’t do drugs. Hell, she was reporting about the dangerous street drugs available in our own community.”
“She could have been poisoned or forced to overdose on something.”
Joe frowned and shook his head. “That doesn’t sound right. Sunny was extremely careful around strangers.”
“Maybe, but look at the number of women who are victims of date-rape drugs. I’m sure they thought they were being careful too. Did Sunny ever go out alone to research her stories?”
“Not that I’m aware of. I mean, there wouldn’t be a cameraman with her, so why bother?”
“People do record from their own phones,” I said.
Renz took over. “Speaking of recordings, when was the last time you and Sunny shot a piece?”
“On Friday. We got word that a groundskeeper found drug paraphernalia at Colonial Park Cemetery.”
My right eyebrow shot up. “Really, like what?”
He huffed. “I’m not trying to give our city a bad name. Hell, we’re known for the genteel lifestyle down here. The tourists love the history and the ghostly nature of Savannah, but things are quickly cleaned up and manicured between tours, if you know what I mean. I’m sure Sunny wouldn’t have won any popularity contests once the drug-crisis piece hit the airwaves.”
“So even though tourists may not see what goes on behind closed doors, you’re saying drug problems aren’t just in the deprived neighborhoods?” I asked.
“Nope, not even close. The problem is, we don’t know if drugs are mainly a local problem that’s spreading into the historic district, aka tourist central, or if the tourists themselves are bringing party drugs into Savannah to enjoy during their vacations. Sunny was digging into that, but she was focused primarily on Spice because of its resurgence.”
I let out a long breath as I thought about what Joe had said. There was a good chance that somebody wanted to silence Sunny and possibly the others too.
“Do you keep all the footage here with you?” Renz asked.
“Yep, absolutely. My footage is my job, and I protect it at all costs.”
That comment made me wonder if Joe was safe. “Have you or Sunny ever had threats against you?”
He pulled back. “No, but should I worry?”
“Sorry, just thinking out loud. Can we take a look at the clips you have from the last week?”
“Yeah, I’ll go grab my camera.”
Once Joe was out of earshot, I turned to Renz. “Do you think he’s in danger too?”
“Let’s worry about that after we see Sunny’s tox report.”
I nodded just as Joe returned with his camera in hand.
“Okay, I’ll play everything in order of oldest to newest. These videos began last Monday.”
“Sounds good,” Renz said.
Joe walked us through the first three days of five-minute videos showing Sunny on the worst streets of Savannah. Used needles, empty vials, and Spice wrappers lay along the curbs and on the sidewalks. According to Joe, Sunny had already reached out to the narcotics division to do another sweep and to reel in the rising Spice distribution in the area. Joe moved on and showed us two more videos in well-appointed neighborhoods in the popular historic district where the majority of tourists dined and stayed during their vacations. Sunny had been given a tip that the same drug waste was prevalent in what people thought were “clean, safe neighborhoods.” Used heroin needles and drug wrappers were swept away before vacationing families and tour groups had a chance to see them. That revelation would be shocking to news viewers and could deter tourism until the problem was addressed.
“Hmm… that opens up an entirely new can of worms,” I said. “Joe, since you can’t air those videos on the news in light of Sunny’s tragic death, can you at least keep them to yourself until we figure out what’s going on? I’d hate to have that news get out and muddy our investigation. We do need you to send copies of those tapes to us, though, so we can give them a closer look.”
He agreed then asked if we thought Sunny had been murdered.
Renz fielded that question. “At this point, we don’t know anything. We only arrived in Savannah a few hours ago and are trying to learn more about each death. With the information the PD already has and what we’ll learn over the next few days, we should find out if anyone had a motive for harming Sunny or the other two victims.”
Renz and I stood, then I handed my card to Joe. “You can send those videos to my email address. We really appreciate your help.”
“Agents?”
We stopped before walking out, and I looked back. “Yep?”
“Sunny was a rising star and a damn good reporter. Justice needs to be served for her and the others.”
I tipped my head. “And we intend to make sure that happens. You have my word.”