Joslyn (Women of Privilege Book 3)

by Bridget Bundy

  “I promise you, Mr. Montgomery, I’m not keeping anything from you or the rest of your family. I simply want to have a private discussion with Mrs. Montgomery.”

  The two men stare each other down. Oliver’s distrust is uncomfortable. The tension burns away all of the oxygen in the area, and I become hotter than normal. I can’t take it any longer.

  “I’ll have coffee with you, Detective Richardson.”

  Oliver is not happy. He has to accept that the detective’s business is not with him. It’s odd, actually, that Oliver wants to be included. Before today, his involvement and concern in this family was at a minimum. He hardly called. No emails. No texting. Not even a smoke signal. I can’t remember the last time I really had a conversation with Oliver or seen him, other than today. With a hard glance at me and fury burning in his pupils, Oliver walks away. I’m sure I’m going to hear about this later.

  “Mrs. Montgomery,” Detective Richardson says as he motions down the hallway.

  I smile at Terrence before taking my leave. It’s my way of reassuring him everything will be fine; no big deal. But butterflies are lighting up my stomach. My legs are growing weak the farther I get away Terrence. Maybe, I should have allowed one of them to come with me after all.

  Chapter Eight

  The smell of hamburgers and fries are making my stomach growl, but I’m not really in the mood for eating. I just want to get back to Harlan’s room, spend more time with him, and go back to Jackie’s house to check on the police’s progress. I also have to talk to Kristina and the twins. Honestly, I don’t know what to do first after I finish my talk with Detective Richardson. All of it is equally important.

  “Here you go,” he says while placing a paper cup and tiny creamer cups on the table.

  “Thanks.”

  “How have you been doing so far?” He sits down across from me.

  The table is next to a window that gives us a view of a hallway and a waiting area. Hospital staff are walking back and forth. Some are in a hurry. Others are not. The world just keeps on moving despite the fact mine has stopped. Doesn’t seem fair at all.

  “Mrs. Montgomery, did you hear me?” Detective Richardson waves slowly to get my attention.

  “Sorry. I’m a little distracted.”

  “Understandable. You have a lot to deal with, and it landed on you all at once. I must admit, though, you seem to be holding up okay.”

  “Doesn’t feel that way,” I reply. “My son is missing. I don’t know if he’s dead or alive, and I really don’t know if Harlan will survive. It’s like someone has shaken my world upside down and left it there.”

  “You have a strong family base, Mrs. Montgomery. You have your sister and Harlan’s side of the family. Not many people have that kind of support.”

  “Unfortunately, they’re not enough. I want my family back.” The sobbing knot catches in my throat. I cover my mouth, trying to stop from crying. I just know if I let go again, I’ll completely crumble. I can’t do that. I have to be strong. “Can we just get on with it, Detective Richardson? What did you want to talk about?”

  “Mrs. Montgomery.” He clears his throat. “I pulled you away from your family so you and I can talk candidly.”

  Quickly, I take a napkin from the dispenser in the middle of the table and wipe my eyes. I have to compose myself, get a clear mind, and focus. “Alright,” I respond.

  “Earlier today, you spoke to Detective Parker at your sister’s house about Gia Briggs. Do you remember that conversation?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. I think she’s responsible for what happened to my family.”

  “Can you tell me why?”

  “Because she didn’t like me, and she failed the first time.”

  “You really believe that?” he asks with a stone face.

  “Yes, Detective Richardson, I believe that.”

  “Have you ever seen those two people with Gia Briggs before?”

  “No,” I reply.

  “Okay, then what you’ve told Detective Parker and myself are assumptions.”

  “I don’t think so. Those people targeted us. She hired them.”

  “How do you know that for sure? Where is your proof?”

  I refuse to answer. I know he has a point, but I’m still not convinced.

  “We tried to get an interview with Miss Briggs,” he said. “Her lawyer isn’t having it.”

  “But her friends have my son.”

  “Mrs. Montgomery, I’m going to ask you again. Have you actually seen with your own eyes Gia Briggs or Joshua Davis with the two assailants in the past?” His patience is wearing thin.

  “No, Detective Richardson, I haven’t.”

  “Has she ever mentioned their names to you before?”

  “No,” I curtly answer. “No, Gia and I have never talked about her friends. Okay?”

  “Do you get what I’m trying to say?”

  “I get it, Detective Richardson, but you’re wrong. You have to do more to make her talk. My son’s life depends on it.”

  “I’ve done more than you know, Mrs. Montgomery. I’ve gone so far as to speak to her parents, and they don’t know anyone with dreadlocks. They don’t know anyone with a silver car. I spoke to Joshua Davis’s mother, and she doesn’t know anyone with dreadlocks, either. And since you can’t give me a good identification for the woman - if she truly exists - I can’t verify if they know her, either.”

  “She does exist,” I remark. I’m floored he doesn’t believe me.

  “I can’t be chasing whims, Mrs. Montgomery.”

  “She’s real, and she had a baby with her.”

  “We won’t be looking at Gia Briggs or Joshua Davis again, unless there is hard evidence that proves they’re connected to the crime.”

  I’m so pissed off right now. It’s like Gia is getting away with destroying my family again. I can’t stand that woman. I know she has something to do with this. I just know it.

  “So, do you have anything to work with at all?” I reply with an attitude.

  “Actually, I think we do,” he says firmly.

  “You think?”

  “I have to wait and see.”

  “What do you mean wait and see?” I ask with confusion. “Do you have something or not?”

  “I have to wait. That’s all I can tell you.”

  “My son might not have a lot of time, and your waiting is not good enough.”

  “Mrs. Montgomery, I have no choice in the matter. If I could follow the lead right away, I’d already be doing it.”

  That’s it. I have to do this without the police’s help. Detective Richardson can sit and wait or whatever, but not me. I’m going to be more active in this investigation.

  “Are we done, Detective Richardson?”

  “Not really,” he says, folding his hands on the table. “During the press conference, Lieutenant Hughes made a statement that caught my attention, and I was wondering if you could clear up something for me.”

  “What?” My patience has completely run out with him, but I’m willing to listen.

  “He said that you were unharmed.”

  “I fell when I was there, but other than that, yes, I was unharmed.”

  “Why didn’t that woman shoot you?”

  We stare at one another. Is he thinking what I think he’s thinking?

  “You want to know why she didn’t kill me?” The heat is rising to my neck. My ears are on fire. The blood in my veins are boiling.

  “The man tried to kill your husband, and they took your son. But nothing happened to you. Why is that?”

  “Why would I know?” I ask hotly.

  “Mrs. Montgomery, there are women who feel overwhelmed.”

  “What?” Now, I’m really confused.

  “You have four children to raise while your husband is gone all day long. It’s not easy doing it by yourself. Hell, if I was in your shoes, I’d want a change. Especially, if it’s gotten to be too much.”

  “Excuse me!”


  “Your husband is out in the world, living it up, probably around beautiful women. I bet the ladies throw themselves at him.”

  “STOP IT! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU KNOW?” I stand up, hitting the table and knocking over the coffee cup. “I would never hurt my husband or my children! And Harlan would never cheat on me!”

  Detective Richardson looks at me deadpan, expressionless, but I can see he thinks I’m an idiot, a foolish woman that doesn’t know her husband. I wish I could knock him aside his big ass head! Accusing me of hurting my family! He got to be out of his mind!

  I walk out. I’m done answering his question, listening to his gibberish. I’ve never wanted nor ever tried to put my family in harm’s way. I have no criminal record, no speeding ticket or parking ticket. I cook for my family, clean, go the million miles and more, never asking for anything in return, never expecting anything. I live only for them.

  I have the happiest damn house in America! In the damn universe!

  I stop in my tracks, meaning to turn back around to tell him off, but no, I’m not going to do it. If Detective Richardson thinks I hurt my family, he’ll have to prove it – and he won’t because I didn’t do it. I don’t owe him nothing, not an explanation or an excuse, and if he comes at me the wrong way again, I might have to forget my ladylike ways and CUSS HIS ASS OUT! SHIT!

  Oh no. I think I’m going to be sick.

  Chapter Nine

  I’m face to face with a disgusting toilet bowl, dry heaving and dying from the pain in my stomach and head. Flashes of light erupts as I squeeze my eyes together. I’ve never felt so awful and weak. When the episode is finally over, I sit on the cold floor in the stall, feeling the effects of an empty heart and a trembling soul. All I can think about is Gia Briggs and how her hate for me is consuming my family. I have no doubts in her influence behind those two people that hurt my husband and took my soon.

  But what can I really do to prove she’s responsible? Is there anything I can do? I thought about investigating on my own when I was talking to Detective Richardson, but where will I start? Who can I speak to first? Perhaps, with Gia herself? She’s in prison, a captive audience. She wouldn’t be able to deny me. I can show up and question her, make her tell me where my son is.

  No, I’m being crazy. I’m not a police officer. She’ll take one look at me and spit in my face. Hopelessness, a heavy empty void, replaces the determination in my mind. Reality is setting in again. I’m powerless to do anything.

  I get up off the floor. Wash my hands and throw water on my face. The mirror shows worry lines and dark circles around my eyes. This time yesterday, I was at home, happy and content. Life was perfect. Dinner was over. Everyone was full. The kids were in their rooms. Harlan and I were alone in the great hall. He was flipping through channels, searching for the perfect program to watch. He found a video of some singer. I can’t recall the name. But I remember Harlan had the biggest smile on his face. Love his smile, so gorgeous, welcoming, sexy as hell. He got up and danced like he was one of the members from Gladys Knight and the Pips. Harlan was born with two left feet. Despite the handicap, he had no shame. He’d get up and dance and think he could outdo anyone on the dancefloor. I laughed so hard from his attempts at keeping up with the beat. He started laughing, winked at me. Again, that gorgeous, sexy smile. He pulled me off the sofa, and we danced together. I couldn’t keep a beat because he was grooving to a tune that only he could hear. After it was all over, Harlan and I embraced in a hug. He tickled my neck with soft kisses. His hands roamed down my back, lifting my skirt, finding and squeezing my butt. Our lips touched. Fire lit within my body. We were about to take off to another world, and then the oldest interrupted us. What a thrill kill Davian was last night, and he’s not the only one. All of my kids have the worse timing. I ended up making that boy go back upstairs to his room. If I could have, I would have nailed all of their doors shut.

  But now – right now – I’d kill to see my son again. I’d move the planet just to have him in my arms and safe at home. Funny how my priorities change when the situation is different and something so precious as a child is snatched away. I miss my son. I miss my husband. Those real moments that proves we are family seem like they’re gone forever.

  The bathroom is becoming a prison. I can’t stay in here and ponder and wish and hope any longer. I must face my problems, and honestly, whether I know how to do it or not, I must tackle them, as well. I head back to Harlan’s room to say goodnight for the evening.

  Oliver is the first to spot at me when I turn the corner into the ICU hallway. He begins moving towards me with long strides. Jeremiah and Terrence are on a bench, across from Harlan’s room. Smiles, nods, and a flare of Jeremiah’s hands tell me they’re having an agreeable chat.

  “What did Detective Richardson say?” Oliver asks. “Anything new about Davian?”

  “No, he only wanted me to sign a statement,” I reply, avoiding eye contact.

  He tries to block my path, but I easily go around him.

  “That was a long time to be signing a statement.”

  “I had to use the restroom, Oliver.”

  Into Harlan’s room I go before he can make another comment. I’m relieved to be away from him.

  Sarah sees me and tries to leave, but I make her stay. Not that I don’t want her talking to Oliver; it’s that I need her company right now. Plus, it’s not going to hurt Harlan one bit if the both of us are in the room with him. She stands at the foot of his bed while I kiss Harlan lightly on the lips. They’re chapped. I touch them gently, wishing I had lip balm. I have to remember to get some before I come back tomorrow.

  Before leaving, I give Sarah a warm hug. She wants me to keep her updated about Davian.

  “You know I will,” I reply. “That goes without saying.”

  “Where are you heading out to now?”

  “I have to talk to Kristina and the twins. They’re at my mom’s house. I haven’t seen them all day.”

  “Do they know?”

  “I’m not sure,” I answer. “I’m hoping they don’t.”

  “Give them a kiss for me. Tell them I love them very much.”

  “I will, Sarah. Will you be here in the morning?”

  “Yes, just like we planned.”

  “I’ll see you then.” I give her another hug and go back to the side of the bed to touch Harlan’s hand one more time. Doesn’t feel right leaving him, but I must.

  I say goodnight to Jeremiah and Oliver before rushing out of the ICU. Terrence can hardly keep up with me, and I bet he’s wondering why I’m in such a hurry. Oliver is just itching to know more about my conversation with Detective Richardson. Not going to happen. That’s all I need is for him to start on me, thinking I’m trying to kill his son. We’ll end up in an argument, and that’s the last thing we need to be doing. I’ll deal with Oliver if I have to in the future, which I’m hoping I won’t.

  Chapter Ten

  Terrence drives to my mom’s house on Aimar Avenue in Savannah. Kristina is outside on the porch. She doesn’t have her video game in hand. She’s been waiting for me. As soon as Terrence parks the car and I’m out, Kristina comes running to me sobbing. Kale and Janae open the screen door. They run to greet me, as well. My heart hurts from seeing my babies. I can’t even begin to make their lives better. We all embrace for what seems like a long time before going inside, where my mom is standing in the living room with her hands on her hips. She has worry instead of rage, and her eyes are red from crying. She’s already told the kids. They all have been crying. I’m not upset at my mom for telling them. Better her than the press, but I shouldn’t have stayed away so long.

  “How you doing, Terrence?” my mom says.

  “I’m alright, Ms. Reed,” he answers while closing the screen door. “How about you? You hanging in there?”

  “Trying my best. If you thirsty, help yourself in the kitchen. I got everything from water to moonshine.”

  “I’m good,” he answers with raised hand
s.

  “Any news?” my mom says to me.

  I shake my head as an answer. So glad she isn’t fired up right now. I don’t think I can take it.

  “I’m warming up food in the oven if you two are hungry.”

  “No, thanks, but I appreciate the offer, Ms. Reed.”

  “Nothing for me, Mom.”

  She looks me up and down. She can tell I’m not feeling well. “Have you eaten at all today?”

  I’m not going to answer. I don’t want her fussing over me and bringing out two pounds of food on one plate for me to eat. After acquainting myself with the toilet earlier, I don’t want to get to know hers, too.

  “Joslyn, you need to put something in your stomach.”

  “I’ll eat eventually. Mom, if you don’t mind, I was hoping the kids can stay with you for a while. At least, until the press is gone from outside of Jackie’s house.”

  “That’s fine with me. You just need to bring them over some clean clothes.”

  “I’ll do that tonight or in the morning. Thank you, Mom. I really appreciate it.”

  “Mom,” Kristina says, standing in front of me. “Tell us what’s going on. We want to know. Is it true? Is Daddy in the hospital? Is Dave really gone?”

  “Sit down,” I say to the kids.

  Kristina sits in between Kale and Janae on the large sofa. I sit in front of them on the coffee table. Normally, I wouldn’t dare plant my butt on any of my mom’s furniture because she would be having a hissy fit, but I must have the kids in front of me with their full attention.

  I look at each one as I say their names. “Kale. Kristina. Janae. Your father is in the hospital. He’s not dead, but he’s in a coma.”

  “I want to see him,” Kristina sobs hysterically.

  Despite my daughter pouring out her heart, my emotions remain in check. I don’t know how I’m doing it, but the strength is there. I’m channeling it, holding on to it. “I will take you to see him soon, but right now, he has to rest. He has to get well.”

  “What happened to him?” Kristina asks. “I want to know.”