A Good Excuse To Be Bad

Home > Other > A Good Excuse To Be Bad > Page 14
A Good Excuse To Be Bad Page 14

by Miranda Parker


  I cringed. He might as well have taken that deadly Wüsthof knife and stabbed me with it.

  “You’re asking me about something that never was. The story never inked. It’s no good.”

  “Just because the Sentinel didn’t run it, doesn’t make it unimportant. Anyway, I live fifteen minutes from here, so it wasn’t a problem to come by. Plus, I wanted to check on you and the family.”

  “You’re the first.” I tightened my robe more. Justus’s disappointed face popped into view. “I meant the second who thought enough to check on us.”

  “No one has called from Greater Atlanta?”

  I sighed. He was digging for clams right on my porch. But he didn’t need to be. Ava looked more guilty than any possible suspect I had ever seen. He was searching for something else, or he knew Ava didn’t kill Devon.

  “What else can I do for you besides giving you my old story, Detective?”

  “Come on now, Angel. Let’s not do this dance. You have something I want. I can take it by force if I need to.”

  “The kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by force,” I said. If Justus were here, I imagine he would chuckle.

  “Now’s not the time for Bible quoting.”

  I turned to him. “Hasn’t this family suffered enough today? What you’re asking could ruin Devon’s legacy. Do you know that?”

  “I know what your investigation alleges.”

  “But that’s beside the point. It’s apparent that the church has taken a position to support Ava to the fullest. Willis, the lawyer. You know full well he’ll make her crooked straight. Besides, you have a very strong case. Manslaughter One. You don’t need that story to make that happen.”

  “You’re so wrong.” He stood up. “I need the story. Can’t tell you why, but I need it, and for Ava’s benefit, you need to come up with it.”

  My heart was doing laps at Daytona. I caught his coat sleeve. “You think it has something to do with Devon’s death, don’t you?”

  “Don’t know.”

  I stood up. “Then neither do I.”

  He shook his head. “Okay, then I’ll let the assistant DA subpoena you, and let’s see how far that’ll help your sister.”

  “You don’t care about my sister and that little reluctant gardener shtick of yours, you could have kept that for Oprah.”

  “Are you going to cooperate or what?”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because we’re both after the same thing.”

  “Can’t be the truth.”

  “Must be. That’s the only thing that keeps us both up at night.”

  “Even if that truth means my sister is innocent?”

  He nodded. “If that’s what we determine.”

  “Let me stop you right there. She’s innocent and I’ll prove it. So you don’t have to tell me what you already know. I’ll find out on my own.”

  “So you already know that as we speak my partner is picking up a search warrant for your home?”

  My throat singed. I wanted to kick him off my property, but I couldn’t.

  “If I tell you what you want to know, can you do a favor for Ava’s children?”

  “Out of respect for you, I want you to know that we will come search your house later today.” He checked his watch. “You’ll have enough time to have an attorney here with you.”

  “Thanks, at least you’re courteous enough to give me time to get the children out of the house so they won’t see.”

  He coughed. “I’m going to have to speak to the kids.”

  “What?”

  “It’s best if I speak to them here instead of bringing them to Decatur.”

  “Do you know what that means? Do you realize the kids don’t know anything right now? They think Devon and Ava are on a trip. “

  He rubbed his fingers. I could have sworn I saw dirty soil sift between his fingers. “It’s for the best.”

  A huge knot lodged into my throat. “You know my sister didn’t kill him. Don’t you?”

  His handheld went off again. He pulled it from his belt, looked at it, and grunted. “What is it going to take for you to cooperate with me?”

  “Release my sister.”

  He chuckled. “I can’t do that.”

  “Keep me in the loop, so I can find the real killer.”

  “I can’t do that either.”

  “Well, what can you do?”

  He laughed. “You haven’t been married before, have you?”

  “What does that have to do with the price of milk?”

  “I’ve been married for fifteen years. Married my high school sweetheart. She’s still my sweetheart. You know why?” He went on as if he hadn’t heard my last question. I rocked in the chair and folded my arms. “Do you know why?”

  “Clueless.”

  “We both learned early on to listen, something you, Ms. Crawford, should know very well, but you don’t do so well right now.”

  I stopped rocking. He had my attention. “Can you tell me who killed Bella’s father, then?”

  He chuckled and stood up. “I have to go. I hope that by the time I return you will have a copy of that old case file. I’ll see you later today, Ms. Crawford.”

  I watched him pull out the drive and then wave when he tipped his hat at me. So much for going to meet Elvis at ten. I had to uncover my own dead and find a place for my family to go while my house was trashed, but where?

  I came back inside and went upstairs. The children were giggling and playing. I went into my room, shut the door, and locked it. Television shows, movies, and sometimes the Holy Bible showed people living through a romantic sort of tribulation. They do the right thing even when they don’t want to. They find illumination during times of struggle. Endings are always happy. There’s a light at the end of the tunnel, and sometimes Oprah invites them to her show.

  But I didn’t feel any of that. No. Not a bit of faith like that. We were in trouble. Big trouble. And there was no way God was placing the burden of solving Ava’s issues on me.

  “What makes you so special?” A voice that sounded very much like my great-grandmother spoke through the air around me.

  I ignored her voice. I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, but I knew my limits. I didn’t know how to make things better. I didn’t want to get out of bed, and I definitely, definitely didn’t want to go to the self-storage facility to retrieve that case file.

  I paid good money to keep the skeletons in my closet there. My soul needed those skeletons to stay there. And so my cry came and began to crumple me down to the floor. I needed sanctuary.

  But, of course, my doorbell rang. I peeked through my window and fell out of myself. Mom was here. What a mixed blessing.

  Virginia Carter, our mom, had her hands on her hips looking like a Diahann Carroll knockoff with her salon-colored mahogany coif to boot. Her eyes steamed at me. She had a few more bones to pick, and by the strength in my arm when I swung my door open, I had a limb to break off myself.

  “Evangeline Grace Crawford, why do you look like death warmed over when your sister is fighting for her freedom in the Dekalb Hotel?” Her nickname for the jail.

  I sighed and opened the door.

  She stepped into the foyer and dictated. “Tell Whitney to get my things out of the car. Move her car out of the garage, so you can park mine next to yours. And where are my grandbabies?”

  “Before I even consider honoring any of your requests, I need you to do something for me.”

  She pursed her lips. Somehow her hips became wider, because that leg she rested on dug into my hardwood. “Let me remind you of the Fifth Commandment: Honor your mother.”

  “Let me remind you of the Fifth Commandment: Honor your children; Actually, honor everybody.”

  Mom slammed her purse on my foyer table. “I didn’t come here to be disrespected.”

  “Mom, that’s not what I meant. I need you. I’m glad to see you.” I peeked over her shoulder. “Where’s my new daddy?”r />
  She exhaled and smiled wide enough to match the sun. “He’s making reservations for us to stay at the Hilton down the street. I fear if we go back to Marietta, we won’t make our honeymoon after all of this is settled.”

  “There’s room here. You don’t have to stay in a hotel.”

  “Sounds like a full house, not a good thing for newlyweds. We’re noisy at night.” She walked around me, then stopped just short of me becoming dizzy. “What have you heard from the investigators?”

  “Actually, not enough. That’s another reason why you need to be here. The house is going to be searched in a few hours. I’m going to ask Whitney to take Bella to my church to swim and play while they’re here.”

  “And what about Taylor and Lil’ D? Why aren’t they going?”

  “Because the detectives want to talk to them?”

  “Hell no.” She reached in her purse and pulled out her cell phone.

  “Mom, how can you quote a commandment and curse at the same time?” I palmed my head. “Never mind.”

  She closed the phone and took my hands in hers. “Let me tell you something. Those kids are going to that church and swim. I’ll take care of the detectives.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to introduce them to your new daddy.”

  “And what does he have to do with the price of eggs?”

  “He’s a retired police chief. I think that says enough. He can man the house while we take care of business.” She kissed my cheek. “I missed you, Angel.”

  I kissed her back. “You know, I have to admit that I missed you, too.”

  “Just as long as you do, then you’ll be okay.” She released my hands, then walked toward her purse. “Now get upstairs, get pretty, and wash the spunk back into your soul. I heard a rumor that your pastor’s a dreamboat.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Who else? Whitney.”

  “Don’t you think I should get my no-name stepdaddy up to speed about what’s going on first?”

  “Not looking like that you won’t.” She scrunched her nose. “I hope you weren’t dressed like that when you were out with the pretty pastor.”

  “On that note, I’m going to take my shower now.”

  17

  Friday, Noon

  Newsflash. My midday shower didn’t wash the spunk back into my spirit like Mom said. But I knew what would. I pulled my shower blinds up and peered through the window. Sugar Hill Community Church and Justus. That’s how I found Sugar Hill—looking past the Duluth skyline toward the possibility of something greater. Devon deserved a better death than what he got. Hopefully, I could give him a better homegoing, if I got Ava freed in time.

  The rain disappeared soft and slippery into periwinkle-perfected sky. A brighter, crisp blue day stood behind the morning’s veil. And I watched the world transform all around me. But as peaceful as it looked, I felt my own peace slipping away.

  What happened to Devon? Although I had a hunch that Ava didn’t do it, it was hard for me to see how Ava’s not guilty. Maybe I’m out of focus.

  While in the shower, I looked a mile straight down our backyard toward Sugar Hill Community Church. It stood white, compact, traditional; safe and solid; small, but a place of solace. I saw my new friend Justus standing at the top of the church steps, waving at the joggers and looking toward my house. If I looked at him any longer, I would have to take another shower—an iceberg cold one. I couldn’t. I had to get the kids out the house in half an hour.

  Yet to say that I had a crush on him would be an understatement. This past Sunday he proposed to the congregation that we have a fast, to put a protective covering over London, as it mourned over those lost in last week’s bombing attack. We could choose anything to fast, but he preferred we fast from something that had some power over us: chocolate, soap operas, cigarettes, etc. My fast was going to be to stay as far away from him as possible.

  I’d failed twice so far, and now with this Ava/sidekick thing, I might as well call this fast a bust. I needed some spiritual guidance, and with Ava’s drama stretching into my home, I had no choice but to bop over to the church. At least Bella would get more “soldier-chicken-airplane” swimming lessons in the church pool.

  I put the shower back on. Alaska cold this time.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  Mom. I could feel her spirit sliding inside the room. If I were my great-grandmother, I’d have sworn Mom had about seven other spirits tagging along with her.

  “There’s another bathroom in Bella’s room.” I spoke through my shower curtain with my back to her, the shower running, but me not under it. I wanted to look outside at Justus a little while longer.

  She said something weird.

  Couldn’t make sense of it. I turned the shower spout off. “Huh?”

  She mumbled something again.

  I slid the shower curtains back and looked at her. “What did you say?”

  “Do you think your sister killed my son-in-law?”

  Looks like it. “No.”

  “Has anyone told the children?” She opened my medicine cabinet, more than likely rummaging around my cosmetics container for makeup to try.

  “I don’t know how to, Mom.”

  “Good. Avalyn can tell them herself once she’s out. Meanwhile, we’ll give them a parade, take them all over town. It’ll keep them off thinking about their momma and daddy.”

  “You and Whitney will have to do that. I decided to help my stepfather prepare for Detective Tinsley’s visit and I have some work to do.” Wouldn’t dare tell her that Ava might not get out today.

  “So you’re going to stick your nose in the fire again?”

  I huffed. Here we go. “Mom, please . . .”

  “No, thank God for you.” She paused and sniffled. “You never should have stopped writing for that newspaper.”

  “I have my own business now.”

  “Girl, please. I don’t know how long this little charade of yours will last. Bella needs to see you at your best, not see you laid up in some hospital after chasing thugs and the bad element. You need to be like Anderson Cooper, honey. All over the place, seeing the world for what it is.”

  “Mom, my work pays well and I see the world I want to see.”

  “I’m sure it does, but, honey, you were born nosy and with your ear to the ground. You can’t sniff around on a computer all day, and hunting down men who aren’t meant to be fathers is a waste of your good time. You have to be right in the middle of it.” Mom sniffed one of my colognes, then turned her nose up. “So what do you think the detective wants with the kids?”

  I stepped back. “They were the last ones to see Devon alive. If I were investigating—a hypothetical if—I would search my house to see if Ava left anything damaging and talk to the kids, because they have no reason to lie. The lead guy is good. His name is Salvador.”

  “Who cares what his name is?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “But what if you ask the kids before he gets here? Why don’t you ask them? No.” She hit the shower curtain. “I’ll ask them myself, while you get dressed. But while you’re at the church this afternoon, could you ask your pastor if he could come over tomorrow and make some more pancakes?”

  And there went the last bit of peace I clung to. I slid the covers back, of course, not worried about standing naked before my mother. “What did Whitney tell you?”

  She didn’t look at me, but I knew she wore that all-knowing smirk on her lips. “Not much outside of the fact that your pastor should be my son-in-law. Mind if have this lipstick? It looks divine on me.”

  I shut the shower curtains; I wanted to shut her out.

  Friday, 2:00 PM

  Sugar Hill Community Church

  “You’re beautiful . . .” Justus said those words to me, sweet and perfect, like good loving on Sunday morning.

  My knees shook, which wasn’t good since I carried a three-pound box in my arms, my cas
e file. I exhaled.

  I placed the box on the end table closest to the door, then ran my hand down my straightened hair. Mom insisted I use a blow dryer and flat iron today. In my opinion, now was not the time for hour-long beauty regimens, but as I looked at Justus beaming over me, I changed my mind.

  He stood up from behind his desk and walked toward me. He stopped a pace in front of me, extending his arms, wide and inviting. I folded into him. “. . . and you’re late.”

  Way to kill a mood.

  I sighed and gave him a Sunday school hug, the kind where neither of us touched below the shoulder.

  “I’ve been thinking about you since I left,” Justus said. “I need to apologize to you. Forgive me for acting like an eight-year-old boy earlier. Guess I was tired after all.”

  I took his thinking-about-me line and obsessed over it until my stomach churned. “I wasn’t exactly myself either. It’s amazing what two hours of sleep can do.”

  He came closer. “No more butting heads. Deal?”

  I touched the tiny knot on my forehead, nodded, and then he came closer. My breath flew out my lungs. My wobbly knees staggered forward and obliged. We hugged. This time we hugged like kindergartners. He smelled so good and his hold of me could put me to sleep right now. But I hadn’t come here to relax.

  “Justus, let me go,” I mumbled.

  He released me slow, looked down at me, and melted me some more. “My bad. I got a little carried away again. Didn’t I?” He smiled.

  “You do have a problem with giving off mixed signals.”

  “Oh, I thought I was quite obvious about my concern for you,” he said.

  I shook my head. What in the world was I going to do about this man?

  Men and I didn’t mix well when romance was involved. Men and I didn’t mix at all when my investigating cap came on. Justus and I had a definite thing developing and I didn’t want to slow down the buildup. More importantly, I didn’t want to lose my new best friend. I needed him.

  “I can’t answer that question, only you can.” I stepped away. “But I know you have a meeting this morning, I was just stopping by to tell you that my mom is here now and ...”

 

‹ Prev