“Hey, buddy,” came her hoarse whisper. She pulled the covers back and swung her feet onto the carpet.
“Mariah.”
Mariah jumped at the sound of Anthony’s voice.
“Sorry.” His white T-shirt was wrinkled and he wore dark pajama bottoms. One hand was braced against the door jam. His feet were bare and eyes were a bit shadowed. The sentinel hadn’t slept too well last night. His fatigue made Mariah want to console him.
Mariah’s hands brushed her hair back from her face. “It’s fine.”
“I left the door open in case you needed something, and I heard Ming bark.” He inclined his head in the direction of the kitchen. “Breakfast is waiting when you’re ready.”
“Thanks.”
Anthony transferred his steady regard from Mariah to Ming. “Come on, boy,” he said. Ming cast one last glance at Mariah, as if to make sure she’d be okay without him. She must’ve passed inspection, because Ming got up and trotted out the door.
#
As they ate, Anthony observed Mariah. After the bath and her adrenaline slowed down, she’d slept, even as a thunderstorm raged outside. Anthony, on the other hand, slept at all. As a former cop, he’d witnessed the aftermath of peeping toms, sometimes with fatal results. He didn’t want to imagine what could’ve happened to Mariah if he hadn’t been there. The thought tore at his insides.
#
Being the victim of a crime never crossed Mariah’s to-do list and she hadn’t planned on returning to Anthony’s house, ever. Yet, here she was again, back in his kitchen, the same place where he kissed the life out of her less than eighteen hours ago.
What a twist of fate, she thought with a wry smile, her eyes troubled.
#
Anthony studied Mariah. He saw her smile, but there was no joy in it and she was staring off into space. “Mariah.”
She jerked. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Mariah took a sip of juice. “I heard some detectives work alone. Did you?”
“No. My partner, Glenda, was an older divorcée with two kids. She’d been on the job several years when I joined the force, taught me a lot. She became a detective and moved to Homicide a few years before me. By the time I transferred into Homicide in the same precinct, she was a lieutenant, and still kept me straight.”
Mariah didn’t miss the hurt that glittered briefly in those tawny eyes before she closed her own. She watched the Law & Order shows, and she could only imagine the horrors he saw.
When her eyes lifted, Anthony could’ve sworn they probed into his very essence. “A cop’s life…is very ugly, isn’t it?”
He squinted. “Mostly,” he muttered.
“What was it like, being a detective?”
“Nothing like TV. When I first started out as a patrol officer, I often resented them.”
“Why?”
“Because the detectives got all the praise for doing nothing, at least that’s how it seemed at the time.”
“So what changed?”
“Getting promoted and walking a mile in their shoes. There’s pressure to solve cases. A detective is on call twenty-four/seven and glamour doesn’t come with the title. I’ve sat in all kinds of weather while following suspects. I’ve been shot at, fought, spit on, had dogs sicced on me and,” he added, “I had to go through all that while in a suit.” He halted. “There are the crime scenes – and how you try not to be sick – and dealing with reporters who put words in your mouth or delete information. Not to mention isolation from your old co-workers. Some patrol officers are jealous and some detectives feel like they’re superior. Then there are the notifications. People cry, faint, or throw up when they get news that a loved one is dead. One woman had a heart attack and died on the spot.” He stopped for a moment. “Notifications are the worst.”
Sensing the pain underneath his stoicism, Mariah’s heart went out to him.
Two days later, Mariah didn’t think she could stay at Anthony’s any longer. It wasn’t because he was a terrible host.
It was his eyes.
They talked often enough and though he didn’t smother or crowd her with conversation or his presence, Mariah still felt overwhelmed whenever she became the focus of his intensity, which was often.
The phone rang, jarring Mariah out of her reverie. She heard Anthony answer with a “Hi, Ms. D.” A pause. “She’s not at Allegra’s; she’s right here.”
With a deep sigh, Mariah extended her hand and took the phone. “I feel so guilty lying to her,” Mariah muttered after she hung up. She gave Gran D some vague excuse about Anthony helping her with errands.
“I know, but it’s for the best. Ms. D’s a strong woman, but she is seventy-four years old. Telling her wouldn’t help her – or you.” Anthony sat down in the chair across from her. The NBA game had started and he’d invited her to watch it with him. He wanted to keep Mariah out of her shell. He knew the peeping tom was only part of the reason she wanted to be alone.
But after that kiss Anthony wasn’t going to let her overlook him, not in his own house.
“How long were you a cop?”
His brows twitched a little. “Thirteen years. I quit last year.”
“Don’t you get a pension after twenty?”
His lips compressed. “Yeah.”
There’s a story here. But she wasn’t going to ask, even though part of her was dying to know. “So what’s the process for what happened the other night?”
Anthony hunched over, his arms resting on his thighs as he explained. He concluded with, “Fingerprints aren’t always easy. If it’s only a partial or someone’s never been arrested, then…it’s not like CSI. It can take weeks.”
With a sense of conviction that was part of her character, Mariah said in a firm, final voice, “No offense, but I’m not waiting weeks to go back. There’s too much to do.” And I need to get away from you before I find myself back in your arms.
“I get it,” he replied, secretly proud of her courage, but disappointed that she didn’t want to stay.
#
The next day Mariah cleaned out more of Allegra’s closet. Though Anthony helped her clear out the clothes on the hangers, there were some items on the shelf above her. They were more personal, so Anthony left them alone. Since they were a few inches out of her reach, Mariah went downstairs to get a footstool from the linen closet in the hallway, taking care with her reinjured wrist and ankle.
Mariahz climbed the footstool and pulled down the first item that came into view. It was a maroon-colored, leather photo album, and it looked new. Mariah’s brow lowered. She ran her hand over the front and then she opened it. Her breath caught. On the first page, underneath the clear film, was a large, color picture of Robert St. Cloud, a coffee-skinned man with handsome, clean-cut features and laughing dark eyes. He stood in front of a two-story house, wore a smart-looking suit — whatever was considered high fashion at the time — and a wicked smile. Between his thumb and forefinger was a cigar. Mariah guessed him to be in his early to mid-twenties then. Underneath it read: “Daddy in Smithfield, 1965.” Hurt bloomed in her chest as she remembered the last time she saw him.
Mariah descended the footstool, wandered to the bed and sat down, engrossed by her discovery, and leafed through the pages. Most of the pictures were of Allegra at different stages in her life. Their father was by her side, and there were several with Mom, Gran D, Kevin and Mariah. The ones of just her and Allegra were few and far between, and taken when the sisters were younger. Growing up, they didn’t spend much time together, so Mariah was surprised to see a few pictures of just her in the book. She didn’t think Allegra cared enough to keep any.
Mariah flipped the pages until she reached one of herself, Allegra and their father. Mariah remembered the occasion. It was his birthday party — which always occurred at his Smithfield home during their summer visits to North Carolina — and hot, despite the cool air blowing from the air conditioner. One of his buddies had taken the picture of th
e trio as they sat on a green, plastic-covered couch. Robert wore all black that night. Nine-year-old Mariah, wearing a gold sundress, sat on his left while twelve-year-old Allegra, garbed in blue, sat on his right. In his left hand was a glass of alcohol.
Mariah’s eyes narrowed as she focused on the younger version of herself. It was true that a picture told a story better than words ever could. If anyone looked, they could tell that Mariah’s smile held a touch of sadness. Their father had an arm around Allegra, leaving Mariah outside the circle of love and closeness. Even their cheeks were touching…
“Time for bed girls.”
“Aw, Daddy,” Allegra groaned as he walked them to their room. It was large with two twin beds. Allegra’s was on the opposite wall. Mariah’s was next to the door. Cool air filled the room from the air conditioner in the center window. “Do we have to?”
“It’s grown folks time now.” His Southern voice was smooth, like warm milk. He had a wide-shouldered, robust body with a model-handsome face and jet-black eyes that drove women wild.
“Can’t I stay up a little while longer?” Allegra pleaded.
Robert St. Cloud’s eyes brimmed with tenderness as he looked down at his first-born. He wanted to indulge her, but she couldn’t stay up for long. There were some things he didn’t want her to see. The music was still loud and fast, but it wouldn’t stay that way. When the music slowed down, men and women would start dancing closer, and he didn’t want to expose her to that.
“Please, can we?” Mariah chimed in, thinking that two begging children might be more convincing. She saw the way he looked at her sister. If only he would look at her like that, too. Why wouldn’t he?
The trio passed by a houseguest in the hall and Robert nodded in greeting as they continued on their way. They stopped in front of the girls’ room. The door was open. “Okay,” he replied, placing a hand on Allegra’s head, “you can stay up, but only for a little while, Chocolate Princess.”
Allegra clapped and slid Mariah a triumphant look before racing back into the living room. Mariah smiled and tried to follow her sister, only to find herself blocked.
“No.”
Mariah gasped, baffled by the cool authority in his voice. “But Allegra –
“Allegra’s twelve. Go to bed.” He turned his back and walked away.
Mariah stood there for a moment before going into her room. She knew that Allegra’s age wasn’t the only reason he didn’t want her around. Heaviness centered in her chest as she changed into her pajamas and brushed her teeth. Mariah climbed into bed and lie on her side in a fetal position, her back against the wall.
Mariah found sleep difficult, and it didn’t help that Allegra didn’t come back for almost two hours. If Robert’s icy attitude toward Mariah hadn’t hurt her, what happened the following morning definitely did…
The phone rang, startling Mariah out of her reverie. She nearly dropped the photo album. With a steadying breath, she put the book aside and answered the phone. “Hello.”
“Hello, may I speak with Ms. Allegra St. Cloud?” The voice sounded as if it belonged to a middle-aged man.
“May I help you?”
“Yes, my name is Alfred and I’m calling from Whitestone Jewelers near Crabtree Mall. Ms. St. Cloud has a bracelet ready for pick up. We were just waiting for the engraving to be completed. It’s already been paid for, in cash.”
“Who bought it?”
“It must be a secret admirer. There’s no name on the receipt except for Ms. St. Cloud’s.”
#
Fruit bin.
When she returned, Mariah heeded the whisper of intuition and wrapped the jewelry box in a sandwich bag, placing it under a bunch of green seedless grapes in the refrigerator’s fruit bin. Then she called Solé.
“You were the victim of vandalism and a prowler, and you didn’t call me.”
“I’m sorry. Things just happened so fast.”
“Mariah, I swear, the next time you hold out on me…”
“I said I was sorry.”
Solé fell silent for a moment. “You’re forgiven. Now, what’s going with Anthony?”
Mariah mouth dropped open. “N-nothing,” she stammered.
“After all these years, you’re still a bad liar. Now I know something happened. Dime,” she pressed, using the Spanish word for “tell me.”
Mariah closed her eyes and related what happened. “But I stopped him.”
“What.” Solé’s voice raised half an octave and Mariah could see her friend’s eyes go round with disbelief and disappointment. “Oh man,” she groaned, as if she was the one who missed out. “Why?”
“I couldn’t. I can’t. The man – he’s got the face of a prince and a body that belongs on the cover of GQ. He’s way out of my league. He’s called a few times, but…I can’t talk to him.”
The bitter truth, and experience, burned Mariah’s throat. Allegra could’ve been a supermodel, with her outstanding looks, her vitality and drive, her ability to adapt, and tall, shapely physique. Mariah recalled the many times Allegra flaunted her beauty in her face, but one incident was mortifying…
His name was Everett Parham. Of average height for a thirteen-year-old, his dark eyes, rugged features and wavy dark hair, made him one of the cutest boys in the eighth grade. Everett wasn’t like the typical good-looking guy, cocky and inconsiderate. He was polite and seemed genuine.
And he asked Mariah to tutor him in math.
She was over the moon, but kept her excitement shielded behind a pacific, business-like demeanor. Yet, as they sat at her dinner table, Mariah tried to keep her stares to a minimum.
Allegra sauntered downstairs in her shorts and tank top that complemented her full breasts and hour-glass shape, a marked changed from the robe she wore before Everett showed up.
“Two-Tone, you didn’t say anything about having a guest.”
Mariah cringed. She hated that nickname. Allegra knew that, but used it to embarrass her. Mom didn’t like it, either. If she were home instead of at work, she’d have made Allegra apologize.
Mariah also knew that a guy like Everett would never ask a girl like her out, so she kept her crush hidden. But the crafty smile Allegra slid Mariah’s way didn’t bode well for her. Allegra could sense hidden emotions like a mosquito seeking blood.
Mariah felt her heart plummet to the floor as Allegra introduced herself to Everett, who stared at her like she was Stupefyin’ Jones from the movie Li’l Abner, and he was a hillbilly boy so ensnared by her splendor that he couldn’t move or talk.
That she was a junior in high school with no interest in an eighth-grader wasn’t important.
That she knew of Mariah’s crush and could mesmerize the boy anyway, was.
When Everett was gone, Allegra changed back into her robe without a second thought…
“Mariah,” Solé whispered. “You’ve got to give yourself more credit.”
Mariah sighed. “There’s a difference between giving oneself credit and knowing one’s limitations.” She loved Solé, but her best friend would never understand.
That night, Mariah received an unexpected visitor.
“Someone bought me a bracelet,” Allegra said to Mariah in her sleep. “How sweet.”
Mariah swiveled, her eyes taking in her surroundings. She wore a long, dark T-shirt and the grass tickled the bottoms of her bare feet. She was in Allegra’s backyard, and Allegra wore silvery-blue again. “Your secret admirer paid in cash.” She mentioned the nickname on the bracelet. “Who’s that?” Her two-toned eyes narrowed speculatively.
Allegra shook her head, raised a hand to study her manicured fingers, and disappeared without a word.
#
“Hey.”
Anthony eyelashes flickered. “What?”
Kevin leaned back in Anthony’s chair, a lager in hand. Ming laid on the living room floor, chewing on a half-eaten meaty bone. “What’s up?” He raised the can to his lips and took a healthy sip. “And don’t tell me nothing.”
“Have you spoken to Mariah lately?” Anthony fired at him.
Kevin’s brow tilted a little. Anthony was a softy for a woman in trouble. But as far as he knew, Mariah wasn’t in trouble. “Not for a few days.” The thought froze in his brain. “Oh,” he said with quiet emphasis. He put the lager on the table and leaned forward, both elbows resting on his knees. “You’ve got a thing for my cousin, huh?” Amusement lit his light brown eyes. He recalled the first time Anthony and Mariah saw each other. Mariah froze like a startled deer and Anthony vibrated like cymbals.
Ocher-tinted eyes became slits as they zeroed in on his best friend. “She hasn’t returned any of my calls.”
Kevin raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, man. Go for it. Even though she’s like a little sister to me, I’ve always thought she was cute in a quiet kind of way. The problem was –”
“Allegra. Too many people couldn’t see past her.”
Kevin lowered his hands to his jean-clad thighs and sat back. “Allegra threw that in her face more than once, and not always with words. With a father like Robert and then Terry making things worse…I don’t blame her for being gun-shy with men.”
“What happened with Terry?”
“Don’t know. Only Gran D, Solé and Aunt Anna know the whole story, and they’re not sharing. Gran D and Allegra went up to New Jersey when they found out she and Terry were through.”
Anthony’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Allegra went up there?”
“Yeah. I was shocked, too. It must’ve been something serious. I met Terry once before the wedding, and I didn’t care for him.” Kevin glanced at the TV and noted the NBA score.
“Why not?” Anthony pressed.
“He was friendly and charming enough, but there was just something…shifty about him. I think he tried to hit on Allegra, but I could never prove it, and she never confirmed anything. Mariah loved him, so I kept my mouth shut. Now I wish I hadn’t.”
Anthony frowned, his eyes level under drawn brows and a gleam of probing query came into Kevin’s gaze.
Allegra's Shadow Page 10
