by Lucy English
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Since Desiree’s decision was clearly not in my control, I decided to focus on Tasha—as if I’d have any influence there. Maybe it was good that she was gone. On one hand it made her look guilty, but on the other, it bought us some time.
I left work at three, claiming I had a doctor’s appointment. I pulled my phone, keys, cash, ID, and a credit card from my bag and put them in my pocket. I left the rest, including Conner’s tracking device (which I couldn’t find) behind. I wanted to go to Desiree’s apartment to see if I could find Martel. I reasoned he must know something given that Desiree had his car.
The car was on the street. I probably wouldn’t have noticed it, parked around the corner from the apartment, but what caught my eye was Legend crossing the alleyway right in front of it!
“Legend?” I yelled.
He turned and looked at me. He looked startled and a little guilty. “Is Desiree back?”
He shrugged.
“Are you supposed to be walking home to Maggie’s?”
He nodded.
I reflexively pulled out my phone. His eyes widened. “I’m just going to text her and let her know you’re with me and I’ll bring you back in a little while.”
His shoulders dropped and he grinned a little thank-you grin.
“Hang on.” He waited while I sent the text.
“Okay. Let’s go in.”
The stairwell smelled like pot smoke and I prayed it wasn’t coming from Desiree’s apartment. Luckily it was clearly centered on the second floor. We ascended to the third floor to find the door cracked open and Martel’s and Desiree’s voices drifting out.
“So what do you expect will happen after that?” Martel was demanding.
“I don’t know but I don’t have a lot of choices here. Nobody gonna believe a black woman who just killed a white man,” Desiree responded.
I knocked the door open hastily, not wanting Legend to hear too much.
Four heads turned our way. In addition to Desiree and Martel, Gabe and Tasha were in the room.
“I found Legend headed this way. He must have wanted to see if you were back. It’s good to see you, Desiree.”
Legend went to Desiree and she kneeled to hug him. Then she sat in one of the straight chairs at the table and hoisted him onto her lap like a toddler. She looked wilted and tired, her eyelashes off and her face clean of makeup.
The rest of us stayed frozen in a tableau of indecision. Tasha was standing with her hands on her hips and her mouth half open. Martel was on the couch with a sketchpad on his lap, and Gabe was leaning against the kitchen counter.
Desiree broke the silence. She directed her explanation at me. “I texted Tasha and asked her to come here. I’m gonna tell the police what happened and I need her help.”
“Oh?” I couldn’t imagine how Tasha might help.
“Tasha know how James was,” she said. Legend shifted off her lap and stood by her chair.
We all looked at Tasha. The indignation had dropped from her face and her arms hung by her sides. She wasn’t wearing makeup but the orange hair still managed to clash with her face somehow. “I do know,” she said, and glanced at Legend.
We were all silent again. The sun filtered through filthy windows. Smoke from Martel’s cigarette curled and swirled in the sunlit air. The thumping bass of a car stereo drifted up from the street.
“If I’m gonna get off on justifiable homicide I’m gonna need some backup to my story,” Desiree added. “I’ve been thinkin’ through who all knew. Tasha didn’t know James was hurtin’ Legend, but she knew ’bout his violence.”
“Did you ever have to get medical attention for Legend after James hurt him?”
“I did. And I stopped to see that fat ugly doctor today but he said he won’t help me. Said it’s too dangerous. Said he’s protected from sharing patient information.”
I pictured Dr. Pillbug, sweaty, pasty, and fat with an irritated scrunch to his face. Then it hit me. “I might know someone who can persuade him to help.”
“Oh? That’d be real nice because without Legend here talkin’, we don’t have a lot of witnesses.” She looked over at Legend before continuing. “And I don’t want him to have to talk about it anyway—not to no judge at least.”
“No,” I agreed. “He can talk about it with me in therapy when he’s ready, if he wants, but it would be best to keep him off the stand.”
Martel chimed in from the couch. “From there to here, and here to there, funny things are everywhere.”
We all looked at him and paused a beat or two.
Gabe spoke up. “I don’t think this is a good idea, Desiree. They’re not gonna let you off easy. You’re a black woman who had an apartment full of drugs. You shot a white man. The authorities don’t like that.”
Martel stood from the couch. “I agree with Gabe, and I’m not sure the detective’s little girlfriend here should be in this room right now. She already knows more than she should.”
“Look,” I said, “I figured out what happened on my own. I haven’t told Conner. I only told people who want to and can help. My friend Toryn is going to pull some strings to get Desiree the best public defender. He’s done research on the defense and explained it to Desiree. How else can I show that I’m on your side?” I’d really had it with being distrusted like this. Even Conner wasn’t a bad guy here, but I wasn’t going to defend him at the moment. When I finished defending myself, it hit me.
“Gabe, did you shoot Martel?”
“No!” they chorused.
“Who did?”
Gabe looked at Martel and Martel shrugged—not an ‘I don’t know’ shrug, but a ‘why would I tell you?’ shrug. Fine. I had more questions.
“Who put bullets in front of my door?”
They both shrugged.
“That was really scary, dammit! Why?”
Gabe said, “Somebody prolly didn’t want you to figure out it was Desiree. Maybe somebody wanted to scare you a little so you’d back off.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t back off when I’m scared. I plunge forward and do stupid shit. So that didn’t work.”
A loud knock came at the door I’d swung shut behind me. We all jumped.
“This is Detective Conner. Open up.”
Every face turned to me. “Don’t look at me! I was careful coming here!”
Desiree strode to the door and I stepped aside. She opened it.
“Detective Conner.”
“Desiree. Penny.” He looked around. “Tasha, Martel, Gabe.”
Martel let out a little laugh and said, “Poor empty pants with nobody inside them.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I went to your office and found your bag but not you. It wasn’t hard to think where to look first.”
Shit. So it was my fault.
Every adult was shooting eye-daggers at me, even Conner. But Legend walked over and took my hand. Tears pressed at the back of my eyes. I’d ruined everything. Desiree hadn’t had time to make up her mind for sure, and if she didn’t confess I’d handed Tasha to Conner for arrest. I gave Legend’s hand a little squeeze to thank him for his compassion.
Tasha spoke up. “I know you think I killed James but my alibi is watertight. I was at work!”
“We checked the schedule, Tasha. You weren’t on it.”
“That’s right. I got called in because another girl was out sick. You weren’t very thorough when you checked.”
“Well, we’ll check again, but for now I need to take you in.” His voice was gruff with annoyance.
I released Legend’s hand and turned to face Conner, standing close with my back to everyone else. “We need to step outside and talk,” I whispered.
His eyebrows went up. He was in command mode and seemed to find it amusing that I’d issue an order. I decided to appeal more emotionally.
“Please,” I said, wrinkling my brow in a plea. “Just outside the door. Nobody’s going anywhere.”
We stepped out and he shut the door. He stood looking at me. Waiting.
“Tasha isn’t who you want. You and I need to leave here.”
“What the hell are you saying? I’m taking Tasha in.”
“She didn’t do it. Make her promise not to run off and go check her alibi. It’s gonna hold.”
“And you know this because…”
“Yeah. Because,” I said. He stared at me. I shifted a little side to side, glanced at his shoes, then back up at his eyes. I held them. “You have to believe I know some things about how to make this come out okay for Desiree and Legend. You will not be failing justice if you leave Tasha here now. The killer is still at large and it isn’t Tasha. Please trust me. We have to be able to trust each other by now. I have to be able to trust you.” I gave him my best pleading face and I did a good job because it was sincere. Here I’d slept with this guy. I’d convinced myself that he was on the side of good. That, like me, he was in public service because he wanted to help people. In that moment I realized I could be terribly wrong.
“Okay.”
I sighed with relief and we opened the door. I knew better than to do the talking.
“Tasha, I’ll check on that,” he began. “And Gabe, I don’t want you going anywhere either.”
“I didn’t shoot Martel,” he said.
“He didn’t,” Martel said.
“I’ll take that under advisement,” Conner said. “Stick around.”
I walked over to Desiree, who was standing in the kitchen with a sheen of sweat on her brow. I spoke quietly. “You have enough going on here for now. Why don’t I take Legend back to Maggie’s until things are sorted out a little.”
“I guess that’s a good idea,” she said. I could see a tear threatening to spill from the corner of her eye.
“It’s gonna be okay.” I prayed I was right.
“Legend baby,” she said, “come give me a hug. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
Legend gave Desiree a long hug and looked up at her. The tear had escaped and he reached up and wiped it from her cheek. He hugged her again, then turned and nodded to me.
I took Legend to Maggie’s and spent a couple of minutes explaining to Maggie that Desiree was sorting out some of her legal troubles and had made a trip out of town to visit her aunt. I explained, more for Legend than for Maggie really, that I expected things would be resolved soon and that I would keep Legend as a priority and make sure his sessions with me were reinstated. The fact that he was back in foster care should make that possible.
I went home. No sooner had I collapsed on the couch than my phone rang.
Marco.
“Babe. I got back this morning and took a nap and went to the store. I’m making dinner in the hopes you can join me.”
His voice sounded so close, but I told myself that it was my imagination since everything goes through satellites and it’s all the same now. Still, I could almost smell his balsam soap. I did a quick internal check to see if my gut thought it would be a bad idea. Usually my digestive organs are quicker to know answers than my head. Everything felt fine. Did I owe some kind of fidelity to Conner? No. I was happy that he made the right choice earlier, but I was still confused about him and we weren’t at a point of being exclusive by a long shot.
“Wow. That sounds really nice,” I said, trying not to sound as exhausted as I felt. “I just got home so let me take a shower and stuff. What time works? What can I bring?”
“Don’t bring anything, just your pretty self. I have it all prepped and I’m ready to crack open a bottle of wine, so why don’t you take your time and text me when you head this way?”
“Okay, great. I’ll let you know when I head for the T.”
When I got out of the shower, Gloria was home. I told her what was happening and how we needed to get Dr. Pillbug to testify that he’d seen Legend with injuries consistent with abuse.
“I’m on it,” she said. “I’ll call Toryn.”
“Don’t do anything dangerous.”
“I’ll just go visit him at his office tomorrow and remind him what I have to share with the police if he won’t help Legend and Desiree.”
“Thank you!” I hugged her and left.
Marco lived in a cool loft in Cambridge. Exposed brick, high ceilings, and a design all his own. I loved his integration of furniture and art ranging from folk art to contemporary, and even a painting by a gorilla. There was something that said “modern jazz” but it wasn’t that simple. There was a low Japanese-style table by one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The breakfast bar looked like sea glass. His stereo was hidden in an antique pie cupboard.
He greeted me with a short kiss and a long hug. He ran his hand over my hair. “God, you smell great.”
“I was thinking the same about you,” I said. “Welcome home.”
“Come sit,” he said. “I’ll finish cooking and you can tell me about your world.”
He took my hand and led me to the breakfast bar, where I sat on a stool. “I’d rather hear about your world. It’s so much bigger!”
He poured me a glass of wine and told me about his travels while he cooked and I sipped. A strange feeling started at my shoulders and worked its way down and I realized it was relaxation. I let myself forget everything and enjoy his voice, the cooking sounds and smells, and the fading light of the summer evening.
Marco asked about my work but I deferred so could focus on his food, our reunion, the fact that my life had more dimensions (at least in theory) than work.
Thursday morning I woke in his bed with early light bouncing off the building next door. I wanted to snuggle up to him and go back to sleep, but at the same time I didn’t want to sleep away the couple of hours I had with him before work. I moved closer and he put his arm around me and opened his eyes.
“Good morning, Angel Fire.”
“Is that a redhead reference?”
He chuckled. “No, it’s a last night reference.”
I showered while he made breakfast. He didn’t have an office to go to, but I needed to be at mine on time. I was glad I’d changed clothes the evening before or I would have had to go to work in the same outfit as yesterday.
We had time for a leisurely breakfast and I was ready to talk about work. I told him the story of Legend and Desiree.
“What now?” he asked when I finished.
“Now I go to work and see what happens next.”
I was surprisingly full of energy Thursday and while I didn’t see the singing runner because I was commuting from Marco’s, my first appointment was the dog lady and she was in a jovial mood. Her complaining neighbor had moved out and she’d been teaching the dogs new tricks she learned on YouTube tutorials. She’d picked up a toddler-size basketball hoop at a yard sale and was teaching them to dunk the ball. She showed me a little video on her phone. I don’t usually get to share my clients’ good moods and happy times because even when they’re doing well, they bring me the problems in their lives. The dog lady’s mood was my forecast of a good day.
I was right. At least partially. Desiree called while I was breaking to eat a soggy sub sandwich I’d picked up on the way to work.
“I’m gonna go down to the station and tell them I killed James.”
“Oh.” I’d expected to be happier to hear that news but while not exactly happy, I was glad.
“I know it’s the right thing to do, Desiree. Do you know how you’ll explain it?”
“I do. And I borrowed some money from Aunt Granny, so between that and some money Gabe and Martel have, if they don’t set bail too high, I should be able to get bonded out until my trial.”
“That’s a great plan. I’m going to call Toryn and let him know so he can do his magic and get you a great defender. Remember, if the court compels me, I can testify that Legend shows signs of abuse. But better yet, my friends and I need to go talk nice to Dr. Pillbug and get him lined up
for your witness list.”
“You’d do that?”
“I’ll do everything I can.”
Conner called at four. “You knew!” his voice boomed.
“I did.”
“You cannot keep information like that from the police!”
“It was the only way to make this go right. It went right, didn’t it?”
“No! Right would be when you find out someone committed a murder you tell the police!”
“What if I didn’t know for sure?”
“Then…wait. You did know for sure.”
“It’s hard to really know anything for sure. I didn’t see it happen. Where is she now?”
“We’re holding her. A defender is on her way over and bond hasn’t been set yet.” His voice had softened. I understood why he was angry, but I wanted to see that he could come around to my perspective as someone acting in the best interests of the people involved. I wasn’t interested in screwing up justice; in fact, I wanted a fair resolution that would acknowledge that wrong was done. But wrong was done by James too, and that had to be clear when decisions about Desiree’s future were being made.
“Okay.” I paused a second to compose what I wanted to say next. “Remember when I thought Legend might be suffering abuse at the foster home?”
“Of course I do. I released a murderer from jail because you insisted on getting him out of there.”
“Yeah. Well, I didn’t know Desiree had killed James at that point. I just knew there were signs of abuse. Now I know it was James who abused him. That’s how I figured it out. Desiree needed to protect Legend and the situation got acute. She reacted. She protected. I’m not saying it was the best way or the right thing, but then again, I wasn’t in her shoes. I don’t think she had a lot of options that night when James came after them. She wasn’t going to let Legend be hurt again. We can understand that, right?”
