“Val’s been wounded,” Johnson said. “That’s all I need to know.”
He turned toward Marvella. She still hadn’t moved. I wondered if he had hurt her.
Apparently he did, too.
“Look,” he said, walking back to Marvella. She watched him, her back straightening as if she were bracing herself. “I went to your place. I saw it, all that blood, and then your neighbors said that Grimshaw had carried a woman out, and it sounded like Val. You were missing—or that’s what I thought, until they said you showed up just before I did, and went off to the hospital. Do you even know what happened? Who did this to her? The neighbors didn’t know. They didn’t hear the break-in, just Grimshaw yelling as he got her out of the building.”
Laura reached us, but hung back. Marvella gave me a sideways glance. Her face was full of anguish.
No one had told Johnson about the abortion. He probably hadn’t even known about the pregnancy.
“Truman,” Marvella said with great patience, “it’s up to Val to talk to you.”
“You people won’t let me see her,” he said.
“She’s in surgery.” Marvella took a deep breath.
“What happened?” he asked. “Marvella, I’ll go crazy if you don’t tell me. Please.”
Marvella looked past me, at Laura. It was almost as if Marvella was consulting with Laura. I never thought I would see anything like it. Their relationship had changed in the space of a few minutes.
I looked at Laura, too, and so did Johnson. She was just a yard or so behind us. Somehow, even in her ruined clothing, she managed to look aristocratic.
She pushed her hair out of her face and shrugged. She obviously had no answers for Marvella.
Marvella sighed, then turned to me. “Bill, he’s not her husband. They got a divorce two years ago. He just won’t let go.”
That was why the last names were different. Wilson and Johnson. Had Val gone back to her maiden name the way Laura had?
“I am her husband,” Johnson said.
“Truman,” Marvella said with the weariness that came only from long argument, “a court says otherwise.”
“Val promised me,” Johnson said. “She promised me before God. I don’t care what the court says. In the eyes of God, she’s still mine.”
Laura grimaced. I bowed my head.
“It’s not any of your business, Truman, and if I tell you what happened, she’ll be really angry at me.” Marvella took a step toward him. She didn’t move like she was in pain. Maybe she had simply been protecting herself.
Johnson watched her, as if he had never seen her before. Even though he was as large as I was, he looked small. His big shoulders hunched forward, his wrinkled clothing and his scuffed brown cop shoes diminished him. He wasn’t a powerful policeman anymore. He was a man in love with a woman who didn’t love him back.
“And if she doesn’t survive,” he said, his voice so soft that I almost couldn’t hear the question.
Marvella started to reach for him, then stopped. “We’ll deal with it then.”
He shook his head. “You’re stubborn, Marvella.”
“If you love her, you’ll leave her alone,” Marvella said.
I was frowning, not liking how this sounded. I wanted to be anywhere else. I didn’t like seeing inside of other people’s lives, even though I sometimes got paid to do so. I especially didn’t like it when I had gotten to know—and respect—the people in other contexts.
Johnson straightened. Marvella’s words had revived his anger.
“I don’t know why you’re being so secretive,” he said. “All I have to do is go to the front desk, tell them I’m her husband, and then I’ll get all the reports. The doctors will deal with me. I’m trying to follow the rules here, Marvella, but if you won’t tell me anything, I’ll find someone who will.”
He would too. He was relentless. Marvella had to know that. He was her cousin.
Which was why she identified Val as her sort-of cousin. Because once Valentina Wilson had been her cousin-in-law. They had obviously remained friends after the divorce, and never lost the family feeling.
Marvella shook her head.
“Why don’t we go back to the waiting room?” Laura’s voice startled me. She spoke with the tone she used at Sturdy, the ones that got employees to jump.
Johnson looked at her as if he had forgotten she was there.
“It’s probably better to have conversations in private.” Laura’s gaze met Marvella’s. “Don’t you agree?”
Marvella grimaced, then walked toward Laura. As Marvella passed me, she said, “I wish you had left him out of this.”
I did too, now, but I had no idea that there were such tortured family relations between Johnson, Marvella, and Valentina Wilson. All I’d been trying to do was make sure Marvella was all right.
She continued walking, past Johnson, past Laura, heading back to the waiting room. After a moment, Johnson followed. Laura waited for me. As we walked, she slipped her hand in mine and squeezed.
“We should probably just go home,” I said softly.
“We stay,” Laura said.
“It’s not our business.”
“It’s mine,” she said. “I want to know if Val’s going to make it.”
I slipped my arm around her and pulled her close. She rested her head on my shoulder. “You don’t think she will?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t think her chances are very good.”
I wanted to argue with her. I didn’t want to be in the middle of the fight that was about to start in the waiting room. But I wasn’t sure what to say without sounding hard-hearted.
“Besides,” Laura said, “I guaranteed her medical bills. I can’t disappear now.”
I stopped walking and held her back, too. I didn’t want Johnson or Marvella to hear this.
“Laura,” I said quietly, “you realize that could make you liable for more than just the money.”
She raised her head and smiled at me. The smile was tired. “Let them try to take on Drew. Let them just try.”
Drew McMillan was her attorney. He was as good as they got. “He’s corporate, Laura. This would be criminal.”
“And Drew’s firm could take care of that. The publicity would be ugly, especially with that abortion bill being considered in the state legislature.”
I had no idea any abortion bill was being considered in the legislature, but I didn’t want to ask her about it. I didn’t want a political discussion now.
“You’ve thought this through?” I asked. “I don’t want anyone to arrest you.”
“Oh, I’d love the publicity,” Laura said. “Give me a microphone and let me talk.”
I looked at her in surprise. I hadn’t seen this side of her before.
She smiled up at me. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get back there before World War Three starts.”
We started down the hall, taking only a few moments to reach the waiting room. Marvella and Johnson were already inside, but they weren’t speaking.
They were standing in the center of the room, a coffee table between them, and they were glaring at each other.
I could finally see the family resemblance. It wasn’t in their features—Marvella’s were classic African, and Johnson’s were softer, without the high cheekbones or magnificent eyes. No, the resemblance was in their posture, and the defiant look on both of their faces.
Laura gave my waist an extra squeeze as we walked inside.
“Close the door,” Marvella said.
I moved the silver ashtray and let the door swing closed. Laura continued inside. She stopped close to Marvella and Johnson, obviously ready to act as referee.
For the first time that night, Marvella ignored Laura.
“I’m letting Bill stay,” Marvella said to Johnson, “because I need someone to control you, Truman.”
My shoulders stiffened. I was a big man, but so was Johnson. And even though his ex-football player’s frame was going to fat, I w
asn’t sure who would win in a one-on-one contest—him or me. I was stronger, but anger, weight, and sheer brute force might give him an advantage.
Marvella hadn’t noticed my reaction. She was still looking at Johnson. “You have to promise me you won’t take any of this personally.”
He tilted his head back and crossed his arms. “Any of what?”
His stance didn’t intimidate Marvella. She didn’t move. “Promise me.”
Johnson looked at me, as if I were going to support him. Instead, Laura said, “You’re a police officer, right?”
He frowned at her. “How did you get involved in this?”
“She’s with me,” I said.
“I can see that, but I don’t understand it.”
“Yes, Truman’s a police officer,” Marvella said. “He’s a detective.”
“Then, Detective Johnson, we’ll need your cool head, and your credentials, if you’re willing to give them.” Laura was the shortest person in the room, but she knew how to use her voice to take power for her. Her words were a command.
Johnson apparently heard that command and responded to it without realizing it. His chin came down, and he shoved his hands in his pockets.
“For what?” he asked. “What do you need my credentials for? What’s happened?”
“You probably should sit down,” I said, not because I was worried that he wouldn’t be able to stand once he heard the news, but because I had seen his sudden reaction in the hallway. It would be easier to control him if he were off his feet.
Johnson looked from my face to Laura’s to Marvella’s. Whatever he saw made him comply. He sat down on the nearest couch, his hands cupping his knees.
“All right,” he said. “I’m sitting.”
Marvella walked to the other side of the room. She leaned against the far wall as if she were tired, but it was pretty clear that she wanted as much distance between her and Johnson as possible. She obviously didn’t want to be near him when he heard what happened to Valentina.
I stayed by the door. I could reach him in two steps if I had to. Laura sat on the couch across from Johnson, her hands folded on her lap. She looked exhausted.
Marvella waited until all of us were in place before she spoke.
“I don’t know everything,” she said. “I only learned most of this today. Do you understand that?”
“I’m not an imbecile, Marvella,” he snapped.
“I’m just being clear because you’ll have a lot of questions, and I don’t have most of the answers.”
“I’m assuming then that this wasn’t a break-in?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “It wasn’t a break-in.”
Marvella looked at me. “Let me tell it.”
I nodded, happy to comply. I crossed my arms and made sure I blocked the glass door. Johnson would have to work to go through me, and anyone trying to get in wouldn’t be able to open the door.
Marvella pushed herself even harder against the wall. “Val showed up at my apartment about ten this morning. She was sick.”
“Sick?” Johnson obviously hadn’t expected that.
“She had a low-grade fever, and she was bleeding,” Marvella said.
“Who hurt her?” He was halfway off the couch before he finished the question.
Marvella held up a hand for silence. “Don’t go all he-man on me, okay? Let me tell this my way.”
Johnson nodded. He sank back down to the couch. He was obviously confused and worried.
“Val took the bus,” Marvella said, “because she was too woozy to drive. I have no idea how she managed to walk from the bus stop to my place. When I opened the door, she almost fainted. I got her to the couch, and realized then that she had a fever. I didn’t find out about the bleeding for a little while longer.”
Johnson opened his mouth as if he were going to ask a question, but Marvella stopped speaking. She raised her eyebrows as if she were daring him to interrupt her.
He gripped his knees so tightly his fingers made indentations in his pants.
Marvella gave me a quick glance, and I saw a warning in it. She was going to tell him about the abortion now, and obviously she was afraid the entire idea would set him off.
“When I asked what was going on, Val started to cry. She was really sorry for not telling me sooner. I think she thought I was going to get mad at her."
“Like you think I will,” Johnson said. His entire manner was that of rigid control.
Marvella studied him for a moment. “Yeah.”
“I’ll be good.”
She shrugged slightly. She didn’t believe him. Laura was watching him cautiously. I wasn’t sure how I would feel if I had learned this about the woman I loved—even if the relationship was over.
“It took a while to get Val to talk to me,” Marvella said, “and I won’t lie to you, Truman. One of the conditions was that I wouldn’t tell you anything. I’m breaking her confidence here, but I think it’s better that you learn the whole story. The hospital won’t tell you everything.”
That caught my attention. What did Marvella know that the rest of us didn’t?
“About nine weeks ago—what is that? January? February?” Marvella asked this last of Laura.
“The end of January, I think,” Laura said.
“Around then,” Marvella said, “Val got raped.”
Johnson’s grip on his knees grew so tight that his pants legs bunched. But he didn’t move or say a word.
I was the one who did. “Son of a bitch. Who would do that to her?”
“I don’t know, exactly,” Marvella said.
“She go to the police?” This from Johnson. I recognized the tone he was using. He had slipped into cop mode, which was probably the only way he could cope.
“I don’t think so,” Marvella said.
“Stupid,” Johnson said.
“Truman, this is why—”
“We’ll never catch the bastard now. He’s probably done a hundred other girls, and if Val had just followed the rules, then we could’ve caught him.”
“Truman,” Marvella said in a firm tone. “I’m not done.”
He clamped his mouth closed.
Laura pressed her hands against her stomach and leaned back on the couch. She looked relaxed, but her entire body was rigid. I wanted to sit beside her and put my arm around her, but I didn’t dare move away from the door.
“Val got pregnant,” Marvella said.
Johnson closed his eyes.
“And she didn’t feel like she could tell anybody about it.” Marvella swallowed hard. This part seemed harder for her than the first part. She blinked a few times, and when she spoke again, I could hear the suppressed tears in her voice. “I think she pretended for a while that nothing happened.”
Johnson nodded, but didn’t speak. Apparently, pretending nothing happened was not unusual for his ex-wife.
“Then she realized what was going on, and I don’t know why she made the decision, Truman, but she just couldn’t—”
“Have the baby,” he whispered. He clearly knew. He knew now why Valentina was here.
He looked devastated, not violent. Still, I stayed by the door, uncertain now what to do.
“That’s right,” Marvella said.
She didn’t say any more. We waited, in silence, but for what, I didn’t know. It just felt wrong to speak.
After a while, Johnson said, “Who did it?”
It took me a moment to realize he was referring to the abortion. Marvella, however, seemed to have no trouble understanding him.
She shrugged. “I don’t know, but whoever he was, he did it wrong. Laura knows more.”
Johnson whirled on Laura so fast that it startled me. I didn’t know he had that kind of quickness in him.
“Where did you take her?”
“I didn’t—”
“You shouldn’t have taken her anywhere. There’s ways of dealing with this. Good ways.”
“I didn’t—”
“Yo
u let her go to a goddamn butcher, and—”
“Truman,” I said as forcefully as I could. “Shut up.”
To my surprise, he did. He wilted into the couch as if his spine had melted. Then he put one hand over his face.
“Val did this on her own,” Marvella said quietly. “She never spoke to anyone. I would’ve taken her to Dr. Jetten, if she had just come to me—”
“He’s good,” Johnson said through his hand.
“—and I might have even talked to you if that hadn’t worked to find out which doctors have been paying protection lately. I wouldn’t have told you, though, that it was for Val. I wouldn’t have done that.”
Johnson nodded. His hand still covered his face.
Laura glanced at me, as if she expected me to do something. There was nothing to do.
“Val was really sick when she came to me, Truman, and I tried to get Dr. Jetten by phone, but it’s Easter.” Marvella took a step toward him. The fear had clearly left her. “I couldn’t reach him, and then I realized that even if I could, it wouldn’t matter. He would have thought it was some kind of sting.”
Johnson ran his hand slowly down his face, his thumb and forefinger making a trail from his eyes to his chin. Then he wiped his hand on his thigh.
His skin was blotchy, his eyes red.
“I could’ve got him for you,” he said.
“She made me promise, Truman.” Marvella stopped in the center of the waiting room.
He nodded.
“I thought maybe we could wait until morning, take her to his clinic, and let him deal with the authorities, but she got worse. Her fever spiked, and even though I put ice on her stomach like you’re supposed to, the bleeding got worse.”
Marvella reached the presswood coffee table. She sat on the end, and took Johnson’s hands in hers. He didn’t fight the movement; in fact, he seemed grateful for it. He looked at their hands, threaded together, and shook them a little.
“No one was around,” Marvella said. “I tried to find someone to stay with her, but the only person I trusted is Bill, and he was gone.”
She looked at me. So did Laura. But Johnson continued staring at the threaded fingers as if they were holding him together.
“So I tried calling Dr. Jetten again, and got his service. They wouldn’t call his home, and he’s not listed. But I knew where he lived, so I felt my only choice was to go there. I waited too long, I know, and I took too long getting him, but I never expected her to get so bad. Bill said she was really sick when he found her.”
Stone Cribs: A Smokey Dalton Novel Page 7
