“No. I don’t have to be up for another hour and a half. Why are you disturbing what little sleep that I’ve been able to get in days,” she asked reserving her bitter tone for being bothered with social media nonsense.
It wasn’t unusual for the two to call each other before work and chat about politics through the humor of Trevor Noah or discuss the finer points of a flawed presidential plan to build a wall at the southern border of the United States, but never this early.
“What happened yesterday?” Maurice asked. “I’m gone for one day and the world turns upside down.”
Daylin jumped out of bed and stumbled in the dark over shoes and clothes from the day before trying to get to the cherry wood desk that held her laptop. She tapped in the password and held her breath as her heart’s pace ran like a runaway train.
“You were tagged in a post, Dayle. Some woman came in and cussed Mr. Shelton out and called you by name …” The voice that had brought her good news and advice faded into nothing as she turned up the volume on the computer. Daylin’s eyes widened as a side-by-side video of Elijah’s mother and recorded footage of yesterday’s altercation between her and the branch manager played. Goosebumps prickled Daylin’s skin and ripped up her arm as her phone slipped from her grasp and hit the floor.
“She killed my son and I want justice for my boy.” Ms. Hargrove’s nasal pitch came through. “Daylin Nichole Montgomery is under investigation for my son’s murder. This is a picture of her—” Ms. Hargrove held up a picture of Daylin looking like a print model for a cosmetics brand.
“Daylin,” Maurice yelled.
She snatched the phone off the floor. “I can’t do this. I need to get out of here. I’ll return your credit card to you because I need to leave town for a bit. But first I need to stop at the police station. This woman is out of her damn mind.”
Chapter 6
The beauty of the sun’s rays splashed across a turquoise sky, providing the picture perfect backdrop for a great day, but giving no indication of the chaos that was ahead.
Daylin marched into the 9th Precinct police station after checking out of the hotel room that had been her home for almost two weeks. The aroma of dark roast and a pair of blues eyes that seemed to have had more waking hours than sleep met her at the entrance There the beautiful woman who began the investigation into Elijah’s demise was walking out as Daylin was walking in.
“Detective Voorhees, can I talk to you?” Daylin all but put her hands on the detective to stop her from walking out of the building.
“What can I do for you, Miss Montgomery?” Detective Voorhees lifted her index finger and motioned for her partner to move ahead. Daylin cracked a smile at the fact that the detective remembered her name.
“I’ve answered all of your questions, hopefully to your satisfaction,” Daylin challenged. “I need to know how this investigation is progressing. Elijah’s family,” she grimaced, “well his mother mainly, is harassing me. She’s showing up to my job and making videos of me. She’s posting my picture on social media as the murderer of her son.”
Detective Voorhees’s eyebrows lifted as she glanced over Daylin’s shoulder. “Miss Montgomery, you’ll be glad to know that I spoke with the medical examiner yesterday. She ruled that Mr. Hargrove’s death was a suicide. Not only did he shoot himself, but he also ingested a cocktail of painkillers before he committed the act. The family will hear from the medical examiner about her findings today.”
Daylin released as much air as her lungs would let her exhale without passing out. She had been nervous that the police would find something that they could possibly use to put her in prison despite her innocence.
She threw her arms around the detective and hugged her like she had found a long-lost sister. “Thank you so much. This is great news. Well, not great news, but, you know, right?”
Detective Voorhees tried to hold her stoic expression, but a smile escaped as Daylin fumbled over her words.
“What can I do about Ms. Hargrove harassing me?”
“While you’re here, file a report,” she suggested.
“No problem. Thanks again,” Daylin sang, her heart a little bit lighter than when she first arrived.
“Good luck to you, Miss Montgomery. Take care of yourself.” Detective Voorhees stepped out to where her partner was waiting and gave Daylin a cursory glance, as she walked to the precinct’s intake desk to file a restraining order against Joan Hargrove.
Chapter 7
Filing the police report took longer than she expected, making Daylin late reporting into work at the new location. Coffee in one hand and satchel in the other, she strolled up the sidewalk entrance where Jesse, the on-site security guard, who worked at her former branch, stepped in front of the door and blocked the entrance.
“Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the property.” Jesse’s six-foot-seven larger-than-life frame stood almost as tall as the doors as he directed Daylin to move.
Daylin stepped back, eyebrows knit together, confused as to what she could’ve possibly done wrong before she could even clock into work.
“What’s the problem, Jesse?”
“Sorry, Miss. I was just told that you aren’t permitted to be on the property at this time.”
“Can I talk to the manager, please?” Daylin asked, the shock of the news taking her aback.
“No, Miss. Now you have yourself a blessed day.” Daylin looked the guard up and down, turned on her heels, and stalked back to her car, yanked the car door open and threw her bag into the passenger side.
What the hell?
Daylin plopped down behind the steering wheel and pulled her cell out of the satchel. Three calls and a message from Maurice had been missed. She forgot to turn the ringer back on after leaving the police station.
It’s all bad, Dayle. Call me, the message read.
Tapping the screen, the phone rang only once before Maurice answered.
“Dayle, It’s a freakin’ circus over here,” Maurice said. “That woman has Channel 7 outside and she’s surrounded by what looks like her family. They’re interviewing with Vendela Edric.”
Daylin clenched her phone tight enough to crack the flawless glass screen.
Damn it.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Daylin ended the call and drove back to the old branch location at top speed.
Minutes later, she whipped her car into the parking lot where every member of Elijah’s family stood around holding signs that said Daylin Montgomery is a murderer. Mr. Shelton rushed to reassure apprehensive customers that all was well and escorted them past the crowd into the bank to conduct their business.
“We want justice for Elijah,” Ms. Hargrove yelled as Daylin made a quick descent toward the camera.
News reporter Vendela Edric turned to Daylin and placed the microphone in her face.
“This is slander,” she cried. “I did not kill Elijah.”
“The investigation isn’t over,” Ms. Hargrove argued from the other side of the reporter. “My boy would never kill himself because he knows his mama loves him.”
“I just left the police station and his death was ruled a suicide.”
Ms. Hargrove’s nostrils flared as she threw a stony glare at Daylin.
“You’re a liar,” Ms. Hargrove hissed.
“Stop this,” Daylin demanded. “I’ve already filed a report with the police.”
The reporter bowed her head as if she were praying and placed her hand on her earpiece. She nodded before turning to Ms. Hargrove. “She’s right. I just received word that the medical examiner over this case ruled your son’s cause of death was suicide.”
Ms. Hargrove stood in stony silence as she heard those words.
“I don’t care what the examiner said,” Ms. Hargrove barked. “All I know is that I have to bury my only child.” She pointed a boney finger at Daylin. “She killed my boy and she’ll be more than sorry that she did.”
Vendela quietly wrapped up the segment and le
ft in the news van. The throng of relatives receded from the front of the bank and returned to their respective vehicles.
Maurice made his way out of the building, scanning the lot of cars leaving the premises, most of them glaring at Daylin.
“Sorry I couldn’t get out here sooner,” he said keeping his focus on each of the drivers. “Mr. Shelton had me hemmed up behind the counter getting customers serviced. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” Daylin assured, her gaze following the line of cars leaving the small parking lot. “I need to talk to Kurtis though. I couldn’t get past security to get into my new location.”
Daylin stepped around Maurice and stormed into the bank to find Mr. Shelton making nice with the customers in the lobby. Mr. Shelton’s smile weakened as he broke contact with a young couple he had engaged in small talk.
“Mr. Shelton.” Daylin waited for him to close the distance between them before saying anything more.
“Miss Montgomery, follow me.”
The two walked to the branch manager’s office and closed the door.
“I’m sorry Daylin. Ms. Hargrove has everybody up in arms. No one wants the press. The video from yesterday went viral and right now there isn’t a branch in the state that will accept a transfer request with your name on it.”
Daylin placed her face in her palms.
“You can’t be serious,” she murmured. “The investigation is over.” Mr. Shelton eyes popped as Daylin yelled loud enough for her voice to echo in the small room. “I’m not guilty. Elijah’s death was ruled a suicide like I said.”
Mr. Shelton leveled a cool gaze on Daylin and then shook his head. “Not one branch. I know that this isn’t your fault and it’s not fair, so I’m prepared to offer you two months severance pay, but you can’t stay employed with this bank any longer.”
Daylin froze, processing that she was being fired from a job that not only did she work hard to advance in the company over the past five years, but one she also loved. As one of the bank loan officers for the branch, there wasn’t anything better than seeing the happy clients.
“I’m going to need you to clean out your desk. I’ll have that severance package ready before you leave.”
Not one tear fell as Daylin rushed out of the office to clean out the last of her belongings she kept in her well-organized desk. She filled a small box and brushed past Maurice on her way out. He fell in step behind.
“Daylin, what’s going on?” he inquired, snagging the box from her.
“I’m being terminated because Elijah’s mom is insane,” Daylin said through clenched teeth. Maurice’s stride was no match for her speed out of the building.
“What can I do to help?” he asked as Daylin yanked open the rear driver’s side door. He slid the box onto the seat as he looked up to see Kurtis watching their exchange.
“Elijah’s cousin has been following me like she’s the freakin’ FBI on my detail,” Daylin huffed. “I’m about to call a hotel that has monthly rates. Kurtis is offering me a severance package so I need to secure the hotel with your card. I’ll do that from here so that you can have your card back. I’m not staying around here.”
Maurice’s eyebrows drew in so tight that they wrinkled the middle of his forehead.
“Go back to work. No need in both of having issues.”
Maurice placed his hands on top of his bald head and exhaled a gust of air.
Daylin studied the man who for the last three years was always able to save the day. She watched him pace the concrete, looking at her with a helpless expression. On days when Elijah started an early morning argument before she left for work, Maurice treated her to lunch as if he knew she needed to talk about what was stressing her out. He’d urge her to leave on the days when the abuse was evident, even threatening to report it if she didn’t. On the better days, a Post-it note with a word of encouragement and a bag of tropical Skittles were left on her desk. He always knew how to make her feel better. Whatever hero Maurice had been before, he had a fiancée and a baby on the way—he couldn’t be that hero to her anymore.
Daylin called The Lamp Post Inn and arranged to check in for one month’s stay, long enough to figure out what her next steps were. Maurice halted his steps as she returned the little piece of plastic that had made her life bearable for the duration of investigation.
“I really appreciate everything you’ve been to me.” The hand that was always steady and secure shook as he reached to take it from her. “You know, Maurice” she said tilting her head toward her savior, “if this were another lifetime, you’d be my man.”
A smile cracked Maurice’s face as leaned over and rested his forearms on the frame of the car.
“No doubt,” he said his amusement fading. “Where will you be?”
“I’ll call you when I get settled,” she assured him. “Don’t worry.”
“Who am I supposed brag to about the Buckeyes being the greatest team on Earth?”
“I don’t know because clearly the Wolverines are the best,” Daylin shrugged with a chuckle. “Convincing someone that your sucky team is the best will be a job within itself,” she winked. “Don’t work too hard.”
Maurice’s face lit up again as he shook his head, pulling Daylin from her car into another embrace. The scent of Dolce and Gabanna Light Blue wafted and swirled around as he enveloped her body holding her a little longer than usual.
Daylin fought back the tears that dared to fall. Leaving her job and Maurice pained her more than any hit Elijah had ever dealt. She felt his heart pounding against her own. More than the fact that she was grateful for his friendship she wondered what she would do now that she wouldn’t see or talk to him everyday.
“I already miss my friend,” she whispered, Maurice pressing her a little tighter.
“Me too,” he said inhaling her scent.
Mr. Shelton glowered as he stepped into the glass door entrance. Maurice pulled away from Daylin and she immediately missed the rhythm of his heartbeat. She slid down into her car and pulled off for the forty-five minute drive toward the place she would call home for the next thirty days.
Chapter 8
Gasps echoed as “Take Me To The King” played over the speakers of the parlor. Angry gazes from people Daylin once called family stared her down at the home going service. The aisle to Elijah’s casket seemed to expand a mile as she approached to say her final good bye. Time stood still while she looked upon Elijah’s once captivating golden skin and wondered why their good days didn’t outnumbered the bad.
Daylin took a seat in the back of the parlor, which had been decorated in white, dove gray, and gold. Eyes glaring over shoulders dared her to come any closer than the corner space that she had claimed. They all knew that Elijah was hot tempered. They knew he took his anger out on her. She and Elijah spent their entire adult lives together, yet everyone believed that she, despite what the evidence proved, killed him.
“Excuse me Miss,” said a white-haired woman dressed in a black two-piece suit and white gloves. “It has been asked that you leave the service.”
Daylin scanned the parlor with caution. Ms. Hargrove’s sister stood in the hallway puckering her wrinkled, overly made-up face like she had polished off a bag of lemons. Following the usher’s request, Daylin rose from her seat and stared down the woman she had at one time affectionately called “Auntie Ida” as she strolled through the hallway to leave the building.
“Daylin,” Ms. Hargrove cried as she shuffled across the parking lot.
She stopped short of her car, glaring at the woman who had taken over for Elijah in making her life a living hell. “Come back. I want to talk to you.”
“Yes, Ma’am?”
Elijah’s mother ambled over, frowning at the woman who, in her eyes, had never been good enough for her son.
“Elijah told me what you did,” she said narrowing her large eyes on Daylin. “He called, frantic, just hours before you called me. How could you?”
Several other fami
ly members tipped the ornate wooden door open, moving within earshot of the exchange.
Daylin held back the tears that threatened to fall.
“Elijah misunderstood what he read,” she explained. “The baby was his.”
Ms. Hargrove’s dark brown orbs widened.
“So, when is the baby due?” she inquired, offering Daylin a weak smile, she laid a wrinkled hand over her heart.
Tears broke free as she told Ms. Hargrove of her miscarriage.
The woman’s face hardened at the word. Not only was her child gone, but there also wouldn’t be a child to carry on in his place.
“You know that Elijah was my whole world,” she said, a lonesome tear trailing her round face. “He didn’t misunderstand anything. He was a good boy.” She gave Daylin a disdainful once over. “I don’t know what he ever saw in you. Whatever he read in those text messages finally broke his heart so much that he didn’t want to live anymore.”
“Your boy,” Daylin retorted, locking her gaze on the petite woman’s face, “on a good day, was a monster and you knew it.”
Ms. Hargrove’s mouth dropped as the once silent onlookers gasped.
“You saw what he did to me and said nothing,” Daylin said her voice escalating above the murmurs of the growing crowd.
“You were always provoking him,” Ms. Hargrove yelled. “Always wanting to move him away from his family.”
“If not for you and your family he might’ve been a great man.” Daylin stepped further into Ms. Hargrove’s space. “"Do you wanna know why I miscarried the baby?”
Ms. Hargrove’s already sour face tightened even more, her drawn on eyebrows meeting in the middle.
“He pushed me down the apartment stairs while I was walking away from one of his tantrums. I had only found out that I was pregnant three days before.”
“Stop lying about my boy,” Ms. Hargrove screamed wagging her finger in Daylin’s face. “Know this if you don’t know anything else—God is going to punish you for what you did and He uses people to get His work done. You better watch your back because you never know the hour. He’ll come in the twinkling of an eye.”
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