Who She Was

by Braylee Parkinson

  “Are you going to forfeit the case?”

  A smarter woman would’ve given up the case and gone back to easier, safer work, but I knew what it was like to have a dead spouse and no answers. I knew what it was like to have an explanation that didn’t make sense. Discovering the truth about Derek’s death had been the most painful experience of my life, but now I could sleep at night. I wanted the same for Carson, and anyone else who’d lost a loved one under mysterious circumstances.

  “No. I’m headed to Muskegon to talk with Liza and Madelyn’s ex-boyfriend. I need to meet with Madelyn as well. She’s a liar, by the way.”

  “You think this ex-boyfriend is related to the case?”

  “I need more information on both Liza and Madelyn. Since Madelyn is my number one suspect, I need a motive for her hatred of Liza. Who better to get the info from than a gang-member ex-boyfriend?”

  I set a cup of coffee in front of Martin and gathered my notes from the table.

  “Good point. He might be able to pinpoint a moment that may have spurred the revenge. But do you really think Madelyn did this?”

  “No idea, but she’s the best suspect I have. Carson just doesn’t look plausible. Oh yeah, Liza also has a daughter with the thug—and guess who else has a child with him?”

  “No!”

  “Yes. Madelyn and Liza have daughters who are half-sisters.”

  “That’s huge! What the hell is going on?”

  “No clue, but I’m going to figure it out. I’m headed to the prison. Why don’t you try to find Liza’s kid? Her name is Danica Masters.”

  “Got it. I’m on it.”

  “Get an address, phone number, whatever you can. Normally I wouldn’t tell you this, but if you have to…catfish—okay? Pretend I didn’t say that.”

  I was out the door before Martin could answer. I stopped at the gas station and picked up the Mountain Dew and Twinkies before topping off my tank. The drive to the correctional facility in Muskegon was uneventful. I went through the pat-down and shoe check and was led into a large visiting room. I sat at a table and waited. Initially, I had been hesitant to visit the convict, but since he wasn’t the person who’d killed Liza, and he was in prison, perhaps he would be willing to talk a bit about their relationship. What did he have to lose?

  Demario was a little over six feet tall, but he walked with a slightly bent “gangsta gait.” His hair, which was in silky black cornrows with streaks of gray, ran down his back. Slanted dark-brown eyes darted around the room, as if he was checking to see if there was a way out. His face looked eager and full of impulsivity.

  “Mr. Masters,” I said, holding out my hand. Masters ignored my palm and slipped into the chair on the other side of the table.

  “Call me D.”

  “Okay. My name is Sylvia Wilcox, and I’m here because I’m investigating the murder of Liza Abernathy Stark.”

  “What? Liza?”

  The convict’s brow creased with concern, an unexpected expression.

  “Yes. I’m sorry to tell you that Liza was shot five times behind a store in Brightmoor about two years ago.”

  How could he not know that Liza was dead? Demario Masters diverted his eyes to the floor, and for a minute, I thought they might brim over.

  “I ain’t got nothing to do with that. What you want from me?” he asked.

  “She had kids and a husband. I’ve been hired to find out what happened to her.”

  “Why you here? If she died a while ago, it couldn’t be me. I was in here. Why you here?”

  Good question. I didn’t want to show all my cards. I would stay on the conservative side with the questions and answers.

  “Liza’s murder may have had something to do with her past.”

  “Why you think that?”

  “Brightmoor. The two of you lived there once, correct?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, she was murdered in Brightmoor. She had to have been there for some reason, and nothing in her current life would have led her there.”

  Demario nodded, caught up in nostalgia.

  “She never liked it there. Just played the game to be with me.”

  “How did you two meet?”

  “She was friends with this chick I knew.”

  “Madelyn Price?”

  “You already know everything. Why you here?”

  “How did you two break up?”

  Silence.

  “D, how did you two break up?”

  “She left me. We were down in New Orleans. Had just moved to try something new. My momma was down there visiting and we were getting thangs straight, but then she ran away on New Year’s Eve. Threw a drink in my face and booked.”

  The mysterious move to New Orleans was proving once again to be intriguing.

  “How long did you live in New Orleans?”

  “I stayed there for about two years. Liza left after two or three months.”

  “Do you know why she left?”

  “Not really, but I think it was all about Daddy’s money. As long as she was wit’ me, she couldn’t have Daddy’s money. She had to work for thangs. I think she left because she wanted to be on Easy Street. I know she went on and married a doctor after she got back to Michigan…Gold-digger.”

  “Did you talk with her once she returned to Michigan?”

  “Nope. Well, not for a long time. A few years later, after I’d moved back to Michigan, she tried taking me to court.”

  “For what?”

  “Just thangs we had between us. She wanted them returned.”

  “Material things?”

  “Something like that.”

  “What happened?”

  “She had a little addiction problem at the time. It was real hush-hush, but the judge threw out the case.”

  “How do you know she had a drug problem?”

  “Didn’t say drugs…She was addicted to me.” He chuckled and smirked with satisfaction. “The girl was a good actress.”

  “Weren’t you angry that she was having sex with you and taking you to court?”

  Demario shrugged his shoulders.

  “Didn’t make me no difference. She wasn’t going to get far with none of that. We both knew it.”

  A young white woman challenging a black guy with a lengthy criminal history in court? Why wouldn’t the case go far?

  “What makes you say that?”

  Demario leaned across the table and whispered, “Because Liza never really wanted what she said she wanted. That’s probably why she was in Brightmoor. She was looking for someone like me, not her husband.”

  It was odd, the way that Demario didn’t hate Liza. He was a child-molester, an abusive person, and a convict with a long rap sheet, but he didn’t hate this woman who had abandoned him and taken him to court. Why was he still sweet on her?

  “You and Liza had a child. What happened to her?”

  “She died.”

  “When?”

  Demario pushed back from the table.

  “I don’t wanna talk about that.”

  “This could be helpful.”

  “How is a dead child helpful? Look, lady, that don’t make no sense, and I’m done.”

  “I know you still care about Liza. Don’t you want her to have justice?”

  “Nope. She dead. That’s all the justice she need. She got Jesus now.”

  The passive-aggressiveness piqued my interest. It was clear that Demario was affected by Liza’s death, and the death of their child. Although it seemed far-fetched, I was still convinced he knew something about Liza’s murder.

  “Okay. I have a question about Madelyn Price.”

  “What about her?” Demario asked, in a curious, somewhat friendly tone. I could see why both Liza and Madelyn had been attracted to him. He was gregarious, attractive, and smarter than he looked.

  “What was Madelyn Price like when you knew her?”

  “That bitch? Now she know exactly what she want. She’s a scheming bitch. What do you wan
t to know about her?”

  “You dated her?”

  “She’s my baby momma.”

  “I heard that rumor.”

  “We got a kid together. I ain’t seen my little girl since she was about eight months, but I know she out there. What Madelyn got to do with all of this?”

  “She was Liza’s best friend.”

  Demario stood up from the table.

  “Now you in here lying! They ain’t never been friends!”

  “Are you sure?” I dug out one of the photos Carson had given me. Liza and Madelyn were standing arm-in-arm in front of a Christmas tree, smiles all around.

  Demario looked at the picture before tossing it across the room. The thin photo floated and landed gently on the edge of the table.

  “What the hell is going on? You lying to me!” Demario screamed, his cheeks hot with anger.

  My heartbeat increased as I watched the man slam his fist into the wall. A guard appeared at the door. I nodded to let him know things were okay.

  “Yeah. Apparently, they were good friends before Liza died. In fact, Madelyn was the last person to talk with Liza before she was killed.”

  “Wait, lady. Just wait, okay? This don’t make no sense. I need you to wait a minute.”

  The convict sat back down at the table and placed his head in his hands. I felt a little bit guilty for rocking his world.

  “I know this is a lot, but I think you want to see Liza’s killer caught.”

  I’m just trippin’. Tell me the truth. What is this all about?”

  “I don’t know, D. That’s why I’m here. Tell me about you and Madelyn, and Liza and Madelyn. What happened?”

  Demario provided me with a review of what I already knew, but also added some details I hadn’t been aware of. The two women had caught him in lies, and Madelyn had broken up with him. After Liza’s baby was born, they moved to New Orleans to start a new life. She ran off on New Year’s Eve of 1999, and he didn’t see her again for a few years. Madelyn had never filed for child support, so he hadn’t been able to find Kara. He told me that the baby he’d had with Liza had tragically died soon after Liza left New Orleans-something I knew was a blatant lie.

  “How did the baby die?”

  Once again Demario refused to talk about his lost child, which I figured was because he didn’t have time to make up a believable lie. I figured that I had gotten enough information from him for the day, but since he’d lied to me-no Mountain Dew or Twinkies would be left for him. I thanked Demario for his time, and called for the guard. I placed a quick call to Martin before hitting the road.

  “Marty, I need you to do me a favor.”

  “Sure.”

  “Find court records for a civil case: Liza Abernathy vs. Demario Masters. Apparently, Liza took him to court for belongings or something after he returned from New Orleans.”

  “Any idea what year and county?”

  “Check years 2000 to 2002 in Wayne County. Liza lived in Livonia with her parents when she returned.”

  “On it. Did you learn anything else?”

  “Yeah. Masters still has a thing for Liza.”

  “No way!”

  “Yes! He was a little hurt to hear that she was dead. I think it threw him off a bit which may explain why he lied about Danica dying when she was a baby. Also, he seemed kind of indifferent about Liza taking him to court. He didn’t have a lot of bad things to say about her, but he did say that Liza never really wanted what she said she wanted.”

  “Hmm. What do you think that means?”

  “I think it means that Liza’s death definitely had something to do with a secret she was keeping. You might be right about the cheating.”

  “Ah-ha! Rookie sleuth no more!”

  “Now, now, don’t get carried away. I just said I’m willing to entertain the idea. No cigars yet, Kemosabe.”

  “Why do you think he lied about Danica?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he’s just trying to protect her.”

  “Or maybe she decided to get revenge on a mother who abandoned her.”

  “Ugh. I hope we aren’t dealing with matricide, but we’d be negligent to not look into it.”

  “Rookie sleuth strikes again!” Martin yelled into the phone.

  I hung up and headed for the highway.

  ***

  Traffic was sparse until I got within an hour of Metro Detroit. The drive home took an additional twenty minutes, pushing the clock beyond working hours. Martin sent a text informing me that he was heading to my house. Sometimes, when days were long, he’d slip over to my place and take a nap. It usually meant that he had good information that couldn’t wait until the next day.

  The house was quiet and still when I arrived. Martin was stretched across the blue sofa in the living room. Notes were scattered across the floor and his laptop was open at the foot of the sofa. I let him sleep while I headed into the kitchen, prepped a meatloaf, and threw it into the oven with two red potatoes. After that I took a long, hot shower before slipping into sweats and one of Derek’s old white t-shirts. I set the table for two and poured myself a glass of Shiraz. Why were Madelyn and Liza still in touch with one another when everything in their pasts indicated that they should be enemies? My brain started ticking through the people I thought could give me insight into the women’s complex relationship. Once again, siblings might be the best way to go.

  I wrote the name of Demario’s three living siblings and Peter’s name on a slip of paper. I had already spoken to Demario’s half-sister in California, but the other siblings were in Detroit. They probably had a better grasp of their brother’s relationships. I grabbed Martin’s laptop and typed each name into a search engine. After a few clicks, I found out that Demario’s sister Alyssa was living on the outskirts of Brightmoor, and his brother lived in the Cass Corridor section of Detroit. As far as Liza’s brother went, I thought it might be a good idea to talk to Peter and his wife together. Of course, the recent divorce might make the meeting awkward, but I had a feeling that Abigail Abernathy could pull off the meeting without much trouble. I was asking a lot, but justice for Liza was worth it. I called Abigail Abernathy and asked, in the kindest voice possible, if she would be willing to meet with me one more time, and if we could ask Peter to join us.

  “You must think you have something, then. We will meet with ya. Peter’s here now. Can you stop by tomorrow morning?”

  “Sure thing. What time?”

  “Nineish? After we drop off the kids at school.”

  I programmed the meeting into my phone and pulled dinner out of the oven. Martin was still snoring on the couch. I debated whether I should wake him up. One glance at his bony arm flopped over the edge of the couch made the decision for me. He needed a good meal. I called his name until he rolled over and opened his eyes.

  “Sorry, buddy, but it’s dinner time.”

  “That’s okay. I’m hungry,” Martin said as he twisted into a full body stretch.

  “Hey, guess what?”

  “What?”

  “The court case you told me to research—guess what it was for?”

  “What?”

  “Liza took Demario to court for custody of their daughter. She started the case, but abruptly dropped it for some reason.”

  “What? Really?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “Did you run a search for her?”

  “Sure did. Couldn’t find anything.

  “Did you look for a death date? Just in case.”

  “Yeah. Nothing there. I’m pretty sure she’s alive.”

  “We have to find her. I’m meeting with Peter and Abigail Abernathy tomorrow, and I might try to squeeze in a meeting with Alyssa Masters-if I can reach her. This is an interesting development. Did you check social media?”

  “Yeah. Didn’t find anything, but then again, some of the younger crowd like to use an alias for those accounts.”

  “Good point. She’s a teen, so I’m sure she has one or two. They’re probabl
y under some ridiculous moniker.”

  “Yeah. It looks like Liza took Demario Masters to court for custody of their daughter. It got a little ugly, and one of the things that came out was the idea that Liza didn’t have any familial support. Demario had sisters, older nieces and nephews, and his mother to help with the kid. To be honest, the way it was going, I think Liza would have lost.”

  “Really? The man I just met doesn’t scream father of the year.”

  “Right, but if he had support and she didn’t, he would appear to be the better choice. And it seems like she was completely unfit. After all, she left the kid with him.

  “Abigail Abernathy, and everyone else I’ve talked to about Liza, except for Carson, has portrayed her as being a little bit off. Common sense, from what I’ve heard, wasn’t her strong suit.”

  “Here’s the thing about the court case: the daughter, Danica, was almost three when all of that was taking place. Do you think she knows about it?”

  Children are typically more aware than adults realize. In a complicated family, information might leak out in front of children. They may not know exactly what is going on, but there was a chance that Liza’s daughter was somewhere out there with these memories of the mother who abandoned her, tried to get custody later on, but eventually decided it wasn’t worth it.

  “Danica needs to go on the suspect list.”

  “She’s pretty young, isn’t she?”

  “If she was with Demario and his family, then she grew up in Brightmoor, which means she’s much older than her birth certificate states. She was barely a teen when Liza was killed, but that’s old enough to be a killer.”

  “Okay, so we’re going with Madelyn as our number one, and Danica as our number two?”

  Martin looked a bit confused. It was hard to imagine a child murdering her mother, but it wasn’t that far-fetched.

  “I know…It’s not what we want to see, but think about how maddening it would be to have a parent who abandoned you, then went on to have additional children and live in a mini-mansion. Meanwhile, Danica was left to the wolves. Her father is in prison. Who knows where she’s been living? My bet is that she’s on the street.”

  “When you put it like that, it kind of makes me root for her.”

  “Well, yes, in a way, but the law is the law. You can’t murder people, even if you feel wronged.”