“I’m coming home. Too much is going on. I’ll take my chances, God help me.”
I gave her the phone number at the house and asked her for ten minutes to set up the fax.
“Be careful, Bell.”
“I will.”
chapter twenty-seven
I’D SEENKATETOWNSEND’Sdead body, but the pictures of a battered, living Kate were just as horrifying. I repented of my jealousy. If she’d gone to Jazz after that beating, I couldn’t blame her.
In most domestic disputes, the signs of strangulation are minimal. There may be redness around the neck. Ligature marks if the perpetrator uses something other than his hands or another extremity. But dear Lord, Chris had tried to take Kate’s head off. This was way beyond a mutual game of Rock ’Em Sock ’Em Robots. Chris’s hand imprint would have bruised terribly in the days that followed the attack. Kate’s voice would have been affected. The internal injuries alone could have killed her days later. Especially since she never got them treated.
Poor Kate. And she went back to Chris. I thought about what it must have been like to be Kate Townsend. Her behavior hinted at childhood abuse, most likely sexual. A very pretty girl, though not all targets of sexual abuse were pretty. I felt so sorry for her.
I considered the phone call from Christine. I didn’t think she’d sounded insincere. I hadn’t been there to see her or watch the clues her body gave. On the other hand, I thought of the tearful court testimonies of the Menendez brothers, who had slaughtered their parents in Southern California. All those tears pouring out of two stone-hearted murderers.
Was Christine setting me up?
How likely was it that the restaurant calledafter hours to report they had something Kate had left behind? And nearly a week after she’d left it?
I needed advice. I couldn’t ask Jazz. He’d spit on the ground if he heard my voice.
Mason. As soon as I got back home, I’d go see Dr. Mason May. He’d help me make sense of everything.
Mason insisted that I come right to his house, even if it meant Amos would come with me. When me and my “baby”——who, after our bonding at the cabin, reallywas my baby——arrived, Mason met us gracefully, even though it was six in the morning. He’d made hot mulled cider and had fresh fruit slices at the ready.
I laughed when I saw the fruit. “Genevia got you on a diet, Mason?”
“No, pumpkin, Gen thinks I’m just right. Jazz told meyou were on a diet. Said you didn’t eat real food anymore.”
“And just when did he tell you all this?”
“I’ve talked to him every day this week.”
“Mason. How come you didn’t tell me you were seeing Jazz?”
He chuckled. “You act like I cheated on you, pumpkin. He’s a good man. He needed to work through some things, and I was happy to help him, same as I helped you.”
I pouted. “I’m jealous. You’remy spiritual papa. I don’t want to share you. Especially with him.”
Mason’s home was as lovely as his office. More so. Genevia had decorated the dining room with dark ebony woods and a massive dining table that seated twelve. Bone china graced every place, and real silver polished to a high shine. The room reeked of elegance. Artwork by African-American painters, including an Addie Lee I’d given them as an anniversary present, hung on the wall.
I set Amos’s cage on the floor and uncovered it. Mason started. “My stars, what is that?”
At least he didn’t scream, run, kick, or otherwise assault Amos. “This is the pet you said I should get.”
Mason let out an uncharacteristically hearty laugh. “Girl, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. Jazz is going to have his hands full.”
“Pop, Jazz is never going to forgive me. I did something terrible.”
“I know all about it. His side. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
I sipped my cider, reveling in the priceless camaraderie——completely free of judgment——that my godfather offered. I didn’t even cry when I got to the end, after Jazz said he didn’t want me.
“He wants you. He’s hurt right now.”
“He divorced Kate when he caught her with Christine.”
“You weren’t in bed with Rocky.”
“I was kissing him fresh out of bed with Jazz.”
“Rocky kissed you, pumpkin.”
“I let him.”
“Yes, you did. The question is why? You could have stopped him.”
The questioniswhy?
I sipped my cider.
“It wasn’t rhetorical.”
I gave Mason a sassy look. “I’d hoped it was.”
“Why didn’t you stop that from happening?”
Be honest.
I took a deep breath. “Because at the moment, Rocky’s simple, down-to-earth, desperate kiss made more sense to me than Jazz’s exquisite lovemaking.”
“What do you mean, little Bella?”
“I don’t know, Pop. Jazz is just…out of my reach.”
Pop looked at me thoughtfully. Ran a hand over his springy white afro. “Pumpkin…”
“Uh-oh. You’re going to give me the talk, aren’t you?”
“You need it.”
“Okay. Lemme have it.”
“When Jazz was confused and unavailable, you were the most aggressive.”
“Mason. He kept coming around, and for more than the case.”
“But it was you who kissed him every time, wasn’t it?”
I felt a bit of shame creeping up my neck. “Yes.”
“When he had to make a difficult decision——I saw how he wrestled with it——he chose you. What did you do?”
“I dressed like a video hoochie and tried to captivate him.”
“You’d already captivated him: What did you do?”
“I married him.”
“What did you do, pumpkin?”
“I resisted him.”
Mason finally answered for me: “You broke his heart.”
I shook my head. “Impossible.”
“D’you think?”
“People like me don’t break hearts.”
“You broke two in one night.”
“I hurt Rocky badly. But not Jazz.”
“Why don’t you think you hurt Jazz?” Mason leaned forward on the desk, waiting.
“Rocky loves me, so I know I hurt him. But Jazz…he…”
“He what?”
I gathered the wind behind my words and let them blow out. “Jazz couldn’t possibly love me. Couldn’t ever love me.”
Now I’d hurt Mason. The pain settled in his eyes, between his brow. “What if he did? What if he loves you more than you love him?”
“Mason…” Tears sprang to my eyes.
“Why, beloved? Why did you hurt Jazz?”
“I didn’t mean to hurt anybody. I was scared. I felt like I loved him too much. Like what I felt for him, I wasn’t supposed to feel for anybody but God. I was scared because I thought he’d wake up one day and realize I was not a Kate. I was not a beauty who looked good with him. We weren’t a matching set. I didn’t think I was good enough for him.”
“You weren’t ready for him yet. You still needed to heal. You never really believed the two of you could happen. Never thought you’d have to deal with these choices. You lived like you were half dead on the inside until the night you wore that red dress, the color of Jesus’ precious blood. The color of passion. You came alive again the moment Jazz saw you for the beauty you are.”
I nodded.
“What you feel——that rush of love, of desire——it’s not wrong. You walked around like a zombie for seven years, and Jazz awakened you. You’d suppressed any hint of sexuality for so long you forgot it was a gift from God, not something for you to be afraid of. Yes, the Word tells us to flee the act of fornication, but it doesn’t tell us not to feel sexual. God gave you and Jazz the gift of each other. You were made to enjoy each other in physical intimacy. You were made for the delights of the Song of Songs. Go
to your husband and tell him that you want him and you won’t take no for an answer.”
“But I messed up. I hurt Rocky, too.”
“You used Rocky in a terrible way. He was as safe as animal crackers to you, but he is a human being. You had no right to string him along to bolster your weak ego.”
Ouch!But he was right.
“Will he ever forgive me?”
“Both of them will. It will surely come to pass. In God’s time.”
A prophet had spoken. The only problem? God’s time could be awfully long. I hoped I lived long enough.
Mason found the pictures as disturbing as I did. He shook his head gravely at both. “A sin and a shame before God,” he said.
“I know. I feel so sorry for her.”
“You’re probably right about the history of abuse, you know.”
“I know. All this time, working through this case, I’ve been wading through the murky waters of her sinful life. Sometimes it was too much for me. It made me feel dirty just to think about it.”
“Sex itself isn’t dirty. It’s a gift made to share with joy in a marriage. You know that now, pumpkin.”
“Yes.” I blushed. “But it can be abused and mess you up for life! I know that, too. That’s why I ruined my marriage. It can be distorted. And then it can be used as a weapon.”
“You didn’t ruin your marriage, but I’ll get back to that. About Kate. Her murderer showed her who had the power.”
“That’s what I mean. As brutal as this photo is, I still can’t see Chris for this murder. Clearly, she’s capable of doing the physical damage. She nearly killed Kate. But is this the aggression of a scorned lover or a misogynist?”
“The pictures, though…”
“I know, Mason. But there was a kind of degradation in Kate’s murder that I don’t see as the kind of power Christine would wield. She’d fight. These pictures make that clear. Obviously, Kate would fight with her. According to her, Kate started the fights most times.”
“This is true. One lost battle in the war doesn’t mean Kate was never the victor.”
“I’m certain a man killed her——a man who wanted her, even in death, to know he had the upper hand.”
“Then trust your instincts. But don’t go see Christine alone. Get the police to listen to you.”
“But if I tell the police about Chris, I may lose her cooperation. What if she really is close to finding Kate’s mystery man?”
“Tell them.”
“What if the mystery man is Jazz?”
Mason smiled at me and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “God said no. Of this I’m sure. And your marriage is in His hands.”
I smiled the widest, most sincere grin ever to cross my mouth. God may as well have written it in stone. I believed Him, too.
chapter twenty-eight
IREMEMBEREDthe words of my great-grandmother, “It ain’t courage if you ain’t scared. Do it scared,” and braved my way inside the Detroit police department to the stunned stares of Detroit’s finest and Detective Bobby Maguire. This time I came armed with photos and not just my great-grandmother’s but my godfather’s courage.
Bobby sat in his pleather chair, surrounded by paperwork. He didn’t have any scary food near him, thank God. He was so surprised to see me that he didn’t even call me girl Columbo.
“Amanda.”
“Hello, Bobby.”
He cussed, then whispered, “For Pete’s sake, what are you doin’?”
“Did you swallow a cranky pill today?”
“Yes. What do you want? If Archie sees you, he’s going to flip from here to West Hades.”
I pulled out the photographs and slammed them on his desk. “I want you to keep looking for Kate’s real killer.”
He picked up the photos. Shot me a look. Stared at them for a moment. “Where’d you get these?”
“The Royal Oak police department.”
He shuffled them around. “Who did this?”
“Christine.”
He stopped at the morgue picture of Kate’s thigh. “And what’s this?”
“Kate self-injured. What I want you to note is the letterB she carved on her thigh. The next picture is of her lower abdomen. She carved the word ‘bad’ there. The scars are about a month old. She must have put them there around the time she found out she was pregnant.”
“And what do you think that means, girl Columbo?”
“I think she carved the man she was seeing into her body, and I think she felt conflicted about the pregnancy.”
“Bstands for Brown.”
“It also stands for Bobby.”
“It could also stand for Big Bird or even Bell. You don’t know what she was thinkin’ when she carved this.”
“I’m asking you to keep looking. Look at her neck. That was from Christine. Look at the fact that she was posed in a way I know Jazz would never do.”
“I know you want to protect your husband.”
“Did you tell someone? How did the press find out I’m married?”
“You might want to consider that you came here talking. Loud. You’re the one who wore a wedding ring. You never know who’s listening. And you didn’t make any friends with your drama, which is why you shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m sorry, Bobby.” I meant it.
He paused as if he might actually want to believe me. “You okay?”
“Not really.”
“You’re a good gal. Get rid of him and move on with your life.”
“I can’t move on, Bobby. I can’t.”
“Go home, girl Columbo. I’m not thrilled about it, but I’ll look into this.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
“Just one more thing, Bobby.”
“You doing your Columbo imitation again?”
“I can’t seem to help it. Kate had a diary. Chris knows where it is. She’s picking it up today. It could have information about the father of her baby.”
“What if it’s your hubby?”
“Then I’d definitely want to know that.”
“Get out of here before Archie sees you. He’s mad at you, you know.”
“Thanks, Bobby.”
“Scat, Amanda.”
I headed down the steps and out the building, feeling like Maguire was finally listening to me. “Thank you, Lord.”
Christine had planned to meet me at 5:30P.M. I’d have to brave rush-hour traffic, but for this I’d gladly sit on U.S. 23. I got to Christine’s house around five. Her house, ringed with yellow tape, crawled with police, and two Goliath officers guarded the front door.
I drove by the house once, looking for a parking place. I found one around the corner and ran down the sidewalk to the house. A uniform stopped me.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“This is an active crime scene, ma’am.”
“What happened?”
“Ma’am, you should leave.”
“Who’s in charge here, Officer?”
“Detective Greg Parson.”
“I’d like to speak to him. I know the person who lives here.” I fished in my purse for my credentials. “I work for the Washtenaw County Jail. I’m involved in an active homicide investigation regarding the death of Christine Webber’s partner.”
“I’m afraid Ms. Webber is now a homicide victim.”
Bobby Maguire walked up to me. I hadn’t even seen him coming. “Excuse me, Dr. Brown. You’re needed over here.”
Dr. Brown?
I’m sure my bewildered look was the reason Bobby took my arm and pulled me away. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“What are you doing here?”
“This ain’t my jurisdiction, but you know I’m going to be here. So is Archie Dandridge. Nobody knows where your husband is, and if you don’t want a big production in a few minutes when Archie sees you, you’d better get outta here.”
“What happened?”
“We don’t know. She’s dead. Strangled. Get o
utta here, will ya? If Archie sees you…”
“You’re the only one who knew about the diary other than Chris.”
“Get outta here.”
I glanced at his leather-glove-clad hands. “I hope you’ve got a good alibi, Bobby with aB .”
“Find out if your husband has one——that’s Brown with aB .”
“This isn’t over. So help me God, Maguire.”
He gave me the hardest glare I’ve ever seen. “You’d better go. And I suggest you watch your back.”
“Is that a threat?”
“You’ve got a threat, lady, and it ain’t me.”
By the time I got back to the Love Bug, my whole body was trembling. I tried to put together all the facts I had. Chris had been killed right after I’d revealed to Bobby Maguire that she had potentially damaging evidence available to her. According to Bobby with aB , Jazz was MIA. I had no idea what the name of the restaurant was——dumb of me not to get it. And the person at the restaurant had, according to Christine, described Jazz to a tee. What did that mean? “Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.”
All I could think of was how I wished I could find my husband. I needed the kind of advice only he could give me. He knew all the players in the case. The victim, the cops. He knew Bobby Maguire. He’d likely know, even if via gossip, if Kate and Maguire were ever an item.
God, what do I do? Who do I turn to?
I thought about Ma Brown’s Star of Bethlehem quilt. When I was a girl, she’d called the quilts that the slaves used as code to lead runaways to freedom “show ways.”I need a show way. Badly.
Dear God in heaven, provide one.
I prayed with all my might.
chapter twenty-nine
THE REST OF THE WEEKENDpassed in a blur. Thoughts of Jazz buffeted my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about our intimacy and fretting over his whereabouts. Most of my doubts about his innocence had been dispelled by Mason’s confirmation. I may not have trusted myself, but I trusted Mason. I knew that the praying, fasting spiritual giant heard from God. I wanted to talk to Jazz so badly I called his cell phone twenty-three times and hung up before he could answer, all twenty-three times.
Death, Deceit & Some Smooth Jazz Page 28
