by RM Johnson
In silence, Joni and Freddy exited the car and walked around back. Freddy opened the trunk, pulled out two shovels, and handed one to Joni. Under the dark, star-spotted sky, they dug themselves waist-deep in the soft dirt. It took them more than two hours. Afterward, they dragged Billy’s body from the car, carried it to the ditch, and dropped it in. They covered the body with dirt, and with the backs of their shovels they patted the mound down tight.
When they were done, Freddy leaned on the handle of his shovel, looked at Joni, and said, “You did what you had to do. There’s no need to feel guilty.”
Joni looked back at Freddy, not a trace of guilt on her face. “I don’t. Let’s go.”
62
At 6:00 A.M. Lewis sat up in bed, covered in sweat. He’d had a dream of Layla screaming, calling him, but all he saw before him was blackness. He ran toward the sound of her voice, yelling for her.
“Layla! Where are you? Layla!”
Her voice became fainter, as though she were being carried off. Then there was no sound at all.
Sitting bolt upright now, his chest heaving, his eyes wide open, Lewis was in bed alone.
He pushed the blankets off and slid out of bed. He picked his jeans up off the carpet and stepped into them. He grabbed his T-shirt, pulled it over his head, and turned to face the mirror that hung over the dresser.
Looking at himself, he felt like a loser. What was he doing? Layla wasn’t even his daughter, but he refused to accept that. To hell with what that paper said. He would get a new DNA test. He was confident it would prove otherwise. If it didn’t, he would have problems. That would mean Kenny would have damn near just as much right to Layla as he did.
If only there was a way that Lewis could convince Kenny to give Layla back to him. He knew that just having custody of her would help his case greatly.
Just then his cell phone rang in his pocket.
A 404 area code appeared on the screen. He didn’t recognize the number, but answered the call anyway.
“Hello.”
“I don’t know why I called the jail first. I should’ve figured somehow you was gonna get out.”
It was Freddy. Lewis felt his stomach tighten into a burning knot.
“They let me out. There was no one to press charges, seeing as how you shot them.”
“Then I guess you owe me one, don’t you?”
“I don’t owe you a motherfucking thing!” Lewis yelled into the phone. “And if you were—”
“Ho, ho, hold up,” Freddy said. “Before you go cursing me out, maybe you might wanna find out why I’m calling.”
Lewis calmed himself some, then said, “What the fuck you want?”
“Got a little proposition that I think will help everybody out. But I’m gonna need you to get me in contact with that motherfucker Nate Kenny.”
63
Daphanie woke this morning, showered, dressed, and headed straight to Nate’s house. There, she made his favorite breakfast— fried eggs, with two slices of tomato on the side, skillet potatoes, and chicken sausage links. It was the breakfast she used to make for him on Sunday mornings when they were together.
Nate appeared in the kitchen doorway, a strained smile on his face. “You know you didn’t have to do this.”
“I know, but what is the point of having a key if I can’t surprise you with a wonderful breakfast?” Daphanie said, pulling out a chair at the table for Nate. “So since I did, why don’t you have a seat and enjoy it?”
During the breakfast, Daphanie occasionally looked up at Nate and smiled.
After clearing the dishes, Daphanie sat back down and said, “So, what do you have planned for today? Anything I can help you with?”
Nate was about to answer, but his cell phone rang.
“This is Nate Kenny.”
Daphanie watched Nate—saw him frown as he listened.
“I don’t have to meet you anywhere. I told you—” he began, but paused to listen after he was interrupted. Finally he said, “Don’t play with me. Was it really him?” He paused. “Fine. I’ll meet you there in half an hour.”
Nate disconnected the call and held the phone in his hand with a look of deep concern on his face.
“A man I know named Lewis Waters … he had a lot to do with why Monica and I were shot.”
“I thought you said you didn’t know why you were shot,” Daphanie said, trying to sound surprised.
“I lied. I do know. That was Lewis, and he’s spoken to the man that shot me. I need to meet him. Will you go with me?”
Lewis sat in Taylor’s, the dimly lit bar where he and Nate had met on three previous occasions. He sat at the back corner table—their table.
The front door opened, letting sunlight into the room when Nate walked in. He made his way to the back of the bar, passing two men who sat on stools drinking beer. Nate stopped in front of the table where Lewis was sitting.
“Tell me what he said.”
“You’re going to give me back my daughter.”
“We’ve already had this conversation. Until I get Nathaniel back, Layla stays with me. Now tell me!”
Lewis stood from his chair. “He wants to make a deal … There’s a way you can get Nathaniel back.”
“How?”
“I need my daughter back.”
“And I told you,” Nate said. “You’re not getting her. Not for what you told me. This could be some game you’re playing. I give you Layla, you take off, and I never see her again. No way.”
“Then take me to her. Let me at least see her now, and if this information helps you get your son back, I get Layla.”
Nate looked as though he were giving it a moment of thought. “No.”
“Fine,” Lewis said, getting up and walking around the table, stopping right in front of Nate. He pushed his finger into Nate’s chest. “Don’t let me see her. But I know where she is and I’m gonna get her back no matter what the fuck you say. You don’t know where your son is, and if you play this shit like it’s a game, you’ll never see him again.”
Lewis turned and marched toward the door.
“Wait,” Nate said.
The two men walked out to Daphanie’s Jaguar. It was parked at the curb.
“Get in the back,” Nate said, as he climbed into the passenger seat.
Lewis slid into the backseat of the car. He looked up into the rearview mirror and saw Daphanie’s eyes, round, staring at him.
“Daphanie,” Nate said. “This is Lewis Waters, the man I told you about earlier.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Daphanie said, not turning around to look at Lewis.
Nate dug his phone from the breast pocket of his suit, dialed a number, then put the phone to his ear. “Tim, is Layla there? I’m coming over, and I’m bringing Waters with me … Yeah. Yeah. I’ll see you soon.”
Nate disconnected the call, turned to Daphanie, and said, “Can you take us to my brother’s? We need to see Layla.”
Lewis saw Daphanie take another quick glimpse at him in the rearview.
“Yeah, sure,” she said, lowering her eyes, sticking the key in the ignition, and starting the car.
Twenty minutes later, Daphanie parked the car in front of Tim’s home, and Nate, Daphanie, and Lewis all exited the car.
They walked up the steps to the front door, Daphanie following the two men.
“You said Ford is waiting for your call, and then he’ll call back to talk to me,” Nate said.
“That’s what he said,” Lewis said.
Nate rang the doorbell, and the door was opened almost immediately by Tim. He gave Lewis a hateful glare. It didn’t seem to matter to Lewis.
“Where’s my daughter?” he said to Tim.
Tim looked at Nate.
“He ain’t ask you the motherfucking question,” Lewis said, stepping right up in Tim’s face. “I did. Where is my daughter?”
Tim still looked toward his brother.
Nate nodded, and Tim turned, started into the house. “This wa
y.”
Lewis followed Tim through the living room and dining room, leaving Nate and Daphanie behind. Tim pushed his way through a swinging wooden door and into the kitchen. Layla was sitting with Tim’s wife at the kitchen table. The woman immediately stood and stepped in front of Layla, as though she had to protect the child from her own father.
“Is there a problem?” Lewis said.
Tim’s wife didn’t say anything, just looked at Lewis disapprovingly. She turned to Layla, bent over the child, and said, “I’m going to step out now, but if you need anything, just call. I’ll be right outside this room.”
When she walked past Lewis, he looked at her like she had lost her mind. He wanted to curse her for acting as though he couldn’t be trusted in the room with his own child.
When the door swung closed, a smile spread across Lewis’s face. He scooped Layla up in his arms, hugged her tight, and kissed her several times on her cheeks.
“How is Daddy’s baby girl?”
“Fine, Daddy.”
“They treating you okay? Everything good?”
“Fine, Daddy,” Layla said again, smiling in his face.
Five minutes later, Lewis walked out of the kitchen carrying Layla in his arms. Nate, Daphanie, Tim, and his wife were all standing in the living room.
Daphanie was looking at Lewis like she was frightened to death that he would leak their little secret. He paid her no mind.
“I kept my end of the deal,” Nate said. “Call Ford now.”
Tim whispered something to his wife, and she stepped over to Lewis, holding out her arms. Lewis pulled Layla closer to him.
“Let Cynthia take her,” Nate said. “Or do you want her to hear this?”
Lewis hesitantly gave her over to Tim’s wife, but as she was taking Layla, Lewis said to his daughter, “If you need anything, just call. I’ll be right inside this room.”
The woman gave Lewis an attitude-filled look, then carried Layla out of the room.
Lewis watched them disappear behind the door, then turned to the others. He took his cell phone from his pocket. “Are you ready?” he said to Nate.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
64
Freddy sat on the living room sofa. Joni sat beside him, holding Nathaniel in her lap. They sat staring at Freddy’s cell phone on the coffee table for almost an hour.
“I thought you said he would call,” Joni said.
“He will.”
“But it’s almost an hour past the time you said.”
“He’ll call, Joni, alright?” Freddy said, rattled. After a moment, he said, “I’m sorry. I’ve known Lewis damn near my whole life. If he said he’s gonna make something happen, it’s gonna happen, okay?”
“Okay,” Joni said.
Freddy stood from the sofa, paced across the floor. He went to the window, pulled back the curtain, half expecting to see a line of police cars racing down the road, sirens blaring, lights flashing, coming to get him. He turned, looked back at Joni.
She held that boy in her arms like he was hers. She looked up at Freddy like she trusted him with her life, and he felt bad. What if Lewis had called the police? What if Freddy trusted Lewis when he shouldn’t have? What the fuck was he thinking? He had almost killed Monica, the woman Lewis loved, but he gave the man his phone number. Couldn’t Lewis have had the police trace the number? Couldn’t they be on their way that very moment? They would find the body, know that Joni had killed that security guard, and she would go to prison for life. Her life would be ruined just for knowing him, just like his mother’s, just like Kia’s, Lewis’s, and everyone else’s who knew him. He couldn’t let that happen to her. Freddy hurried away from the window, was about to tell Joni to run upstairs, grab as much shit as she could, and throw it into a bag so they could get out of there now. Then the phone rang.
Freddy’s pulse slowed as he walked over and stood at the table, looking down at the phone. He picked it up, looked at the number.
“It’s him.” Freddy smiled at Joni and answered. “Hello.”
Joni covered Nathaniel’s ears with her palms.
“Freddy, this is Lewis.”
“I know. That worthless motherfucker Kenny there?”
“He’s right here. You want the number to call him back on?”
“No. We don’t gotta do that. Pass him your phone,” Freddy ordered.
A moment later, Freddy heard Nate’s voice.
“Where’s my son?” Nate asked. His tone was firm.
“I took him. Where you think he is? With me.”
“You better not have harmed a single hair on his head.” Freddy chuckled. “Or what? “Or I’ll kill you.”
Freddy laughed. “You lucky you’re still breathing, motherfucker. But since you still alive, you can do me a favor.”
“I’m not doing a damn thing till I get my son back!”
“You’re going to do exactly what I say, and if you do it perfect, then I’ll think about giving the little shit back to you. You listening?”
“Go ahead,” Nate spat.
Freddy looked at Joni, smiled wide, and nodded. “You gonna take a plane to Atlanta. I’ll call you back with the flight number. You gonna rent a car and drive it to where I tell you. And you gonna bring a suitcase filled with five million dollars—all one-hundred-dollar bills.”
“Five million dollars?” Nate repeated.
“You got a problem with that?”
“No.”
“I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but I’m gonna let your ass know, just in case. You tell the police about this, you bring them motherfuckers—or anybody else, for that matter—I’m putting a bullet in this boy’s peanut head. You hear me, Nate?”
Nate didn’t answer, but Freddy could hear the man breathing hard.
“I said, you hear me, motherfucker?”
“I want to speak to my son. I wanna know that he’s alright.” Freddy pulled the phone from his ear. He walked over to Nathaniel, pulled one of Joni’s hands away, and placed the phone to the boy’s ear. “Say hello to your daddy.”
“Daddy?” Nathaniel said.
“Nathaniel!”
Freddy pulled the phone away.
“Ain’t time to get all conversational. You got everything I told you?”
“Five million dollars. You’ll tell me when and where later. No police,” Nate said, hate in his voice. “I heard you, you sick bastard!”
“Remember all that, and don’t try no funny shit if you wanna see your son alive again. You know I’ll have no problem doing him,” Freddy said, then he slapped the phone closed.
“Well?” Joni said, lowering her hands from Nathaniel’s ears.
“He gonna do it, baby,” Freddy said, pulling her and Nathaniel off the sofa and wrapping his arms around them both.
“He’s gonna do it?” Joni said, smiling excitedly.
“That’s right, baby,” Freddy yelled. “We gonna be rich!”
65
Nate disconnected the call and handed the phone back to Lewis.
“Well?” Tim said, stepping in front of Nate. “Is Nathaniel okay?”
“He’s fine, I suppose.”
“What does he want?” Daphanie asked.
“He wants five million dollars to give me my son back. He’s in Atlanta. He wants me to bring it to him.”
“Good,” Tim said, picking the cordless home phone up from an end table. “I’ll call the police and—”
“Put that down!” Nate ordered.
“But we know where he is. We can—”
“Put it down! Get the police involved and he said he’ll kill Nathaniel.”
Daphanie gasped.
“He’s bluffing,” Tim said.
“Look what he’s already tried to do to me,” Nate said. He turned to Lewis. “Will he do it? Will he actually kill my child?”
“If he feels he has to. Yeah, he’ll do it,” Lewis said, staring directly into Nate’s eyes. “How does it feel to have someone hold your kid
hostage?”
Nate didn’t respond, but what Lewis had said cut him deep. He hadn’t thought about what Lewis must’ve been going through till that very moment. There was an awkward silence in the room until Lewis said, “So what are you going to do?”
“He’s going to call me back. Tell me which flight he wants me to take and where to meet him.”
“And you’re not going to include the police?” Tim said. “I think that’s a mistake.”
Daphanie moved to Nate’s side, held his arm, obvious worry on her face. “I think Tim’s right.”
“Just like you said, he tried to kill you while he was here,” Tim said. “What makes you think he won’t try again when you go over there?”
“Because I have what he wants.”
“And after he gets it—what’s to stop him from doing it then?” Daphanie said.
Nate’s cell phone started ringing. He answered the call. “This is Nate Kenny.”
“Mr. Kenny, this is Dr. Beck. I think you’re going to want to get over to the hospital.”
Distress came to Nate’s face. “Is everything alright?”
“Your wife just woke up. She’s asking for you.”
66
Daphanie sat behind the wheel of her car as she drove Lewis back to her place.
He sat there, deep in thought.
When Nate received that phone call informing him that Monica was awake, he had seemed so happy. Daphanie had felt whatever ground she had gained with him all but disappeared.
“Tim, grab your keys. You’re taking me to the hospital. Monica’s awake. I need to be there.”
“I’m going with you,” Lewis had said.
“No, you’re not,” Nate said. “I can’t stop you from seeing her, but I’m sure as hell not taking you.”
“Do you want me to take you?” Daphanie said.
She wanted to be by Nate’s side, if for no other reason than to show Monica that she still had competition.
Nate looked at Daphanie, and with compassion said, “I don’t think that’d be such a good idea. If you could take him,” Nate said, cutting his eyes at Lewis, “wherever he needs to go, I’d really appreciate it. I’ll call you later.”
