“Hey, is your mother sleeping in? I tried calling her but the phone isn’t on.”
“Well, she’s probably still in the air. I don’t think her flight landed yet.”
Richard leaped to his feet. “Flight? What flight? We were suppose to meet this morning, here in Atlanta.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I thought you knew.” Mahalia bit her bottom lip, realizing her mother had purposely left without telling Richard.
Richard was frantic. Just when it appeared he could begin picking up the pieces of his shattered life, Nadeen decided to pull something like this. “Did she say anything? Like where she was going or why?”
“Uh-uh. She hasn’t said much since we’ve been here. Then last night she got a phone call. It must’ve been important because she stayed on the phone for a long time in Grandpa’s study. Then she came out crying. I thought y’all had another fight or something.” Mahalia heard her father trying to sort it out in his head as he sighed deeply. “Daddy?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“I don’t know if this will help but I saw the papers she printed from the airline’s web page. She’s going home. Her flight lands at noon, I think.”
Dallas? he thought. Why would she do this after I came all this way? “Okay, thanks, Mahalia. Kiss Roxy for me. I’ll figure something out. I love you, kitten.”
“I love you too, Daddy.”
By the time Richard had packed and checked out of his hotel room, he was mentally spent. Too many questions loomed without the answers needed to rest his troubled mind. He raced to Hartsfield International Airport, leaving his Lexus in longterm parking. The shuttle ride to the gate seemed to take forever. It allowed him too much time to think. What if she learned about Dior? What if he was wanted as a prime suspect? What if there was another emergency Nadeen felt compelled to address without including him? Again, he felt stretched and pulled in several directions.
After obtaining a seat on the next flight to Dallas, Richard knew he’d implode if he didn’t at least try to get some answers before boarding that plane. He stood inside a small coffee shop across from his gate. Nadeen’s phone rang several times now, indicating she was either on a call or avoiding his. In either case, he couldn’t speak with her. Richard’s chest swelled as he inhaled a steep dose of courage. He scrolled through entries in his address book until Phillip’s name appeared. There was silence when the deacon answered. “Hey, man, I was wondering when you’d reach out to me.” He omitted using Richard’s name, in the event his conversation was overheard.
“Yeah-yeah. Sorry about not getting back to you sooner. I’ve been too tied up with family business to deal with church affairs. Look here, has Nadeen been by or called Rose this morning?” Silence played loudly for a second time. “Phillip?”
“I heard you. I just don’t know how to answer that. Been too busy dealing with the call I got from the police last night and then another one this morning.”
“Police? What do they want with you?”
“You ought to know. If you don’t, then you should.” Phillip was letting his friend know he should watch what he said over the phone. “I haven’t returned their calls because I didn’t want to get involved. I know too much.”
“Too much about what?” Richard grunted quietly. “Please tell me what’s going on down there.”
“It’s all about her. She was found dead in her home two days ago. It’s been all over the news. The Dallas Police Department put a homicide investigator on the case. They’re calling it murder.”
“Murder! Good Lord, no.” Richard blew a thick stream of anxiety into the air. “This is all wrong. Any cops mention me by name?”
“No, at least not the ones who’ve called here, but it’s only a matter of time. There’s been talk. Word gets around pretty easy when a high-profile minister’s mistress is murdered.”
Richard cringed when he heard that word again. “As far as you can tell, who’s doing all the talking?”
“Church members mostly, those who didn’t like what went down in New Orleans between you and Nadeen after she showed up. Good thing you’ve been in Georgia since before it happened, huh? Otherwise you might need a good lawyer.”
“Yeah, good thing. I’ve been here going on four days.” Richard sensed his friend was helping to bridge an alibi to throw at the police when they caught up to him. He rubbed his face in one long swoop, then eyed the line forming to board his flight. “Thanks, Phillip. I’ve got to go now. I knew I could count on you.”
Phillip was bothered by Richard’s questions as much as he was by the answers he’d given. What upset him the most was the lack of surprise in the pastor’s voice when he said Dior had died. Richard already knew, and that crushed Phillip. “Go with God, friend. Let Him lead you.”
“I will. I will.”
Dooney sat in his truck parked down the street from the Allamay mansion. He’d been there off and on since learning two days ago that Dior’s mystery man was the pastor of Dallas’s largest predominantly black congregation. A man with that much to lose stood a lot to gain by killing his mistress. Fueled by pain too deep to live with, Dooney was willing to give his life in order to end Richard’s. Tangie explained how Dior became obsessed with marrying the minister and that she’d even had a standoff with Nadeen over the affair. Dooney made Tangie promise to never tell the police that he was investigating the case himself or that he’d stolen Dior’s cell phone from the crime scene. He’d seen how officers often botched things only to let criminals with high-priced lawyers walk away without as much as a slap on the wrist. He was determined to seek retribution.
At a few minutes past one o’clock, an airport shuttle pulled into the circular driveway at Richard’s house. Dooney eased down in the front seat. He placed his hand on the chrome-plated automatic resting on his lap. His fingers tingled when the van driver stepped to the passenger’s side to open the door. Adrenaline pumped through his veins when the thought of enacting vengeance played out in his head. While peering over the dashboard, he saw a woman climb down with a shoulder bag. Dooney shook his head furiously when the shuttle driver hopped behind the wheel then motored out of the subdivision. “No, no, no,” he growled. “Where’s the dude?” Dooney slammed his hand against the console when Nadeen entered the house, alone.
He yelled when his cell phone hummed. “What!”
“This is Tangie. I’m sorry to bother you, Dooney. I know you must be a wreck too.”
“You don’t know the half of it. Mad bad for going off on you,” he apologized. “What you need?”
“I should be asking you that. The police have been dogging me to set up a meeting but I keep telling them I don’t know anything. This woman, a sergeant I think, wants to know who Dior was kicking it with other than Giorgio. They cleared him yesterday.”
“I knew he didn’t do nothing the minute I stuck my lie detector in his face in the back of his shop. That fool cried like a baby when I started asking about him and Dior. He didn’t ever care that I was ready to blow his nose clean off if he answered wrong. Alls he cared about was losing my sister. Ain’t that a dirty trick. The man had me feeling bad for him. He said she dumped him for that preacher. He really thought they’d get back together, though. Even wanted to help with Dior’s funeral arrangements, after I came at him foul. She should have stayed with him. Then none of this would’ve happened.”
Tangie sniffled as she offered new information. “Uh, this lady cop who came by said they found Dior’s gun under the sofa yesterday. I don’t know how they missed it the first time.” Dooney was angry because he failed to locate it before calling the police. “She said there were two sets of prints on it, Dior’s and other’s on the barrel. Dooney, the police need some help on this. It’s so hard stalling when they don’t have any leads. You gotta let me tell them about the pastor. I know you wanted to talk to him first, but I can’t sleep or eat or anything because Dior is gone and I’m doing nothing about it. Maybe the police could find him faster. Maybe they can make hi
m . . . ohhh, I didn’t know I could miss her so much.”
“Me neither,” Dooney answered in a voice so tender it made Tangie break down and cry. “You got to be strong for her, Tangie. Don’t worry about holding back if the law comes around again. Tell ’em what they want to know, all of it. You did yo’ thing. Dior would be proud of you. I know I am.”
“Okay,” she whispered thankfully. “What about you? What are you going to do now?”
Dooney thought about it while stroking the lie detector he’d brought along as judge, jury, and executioner. “I got a hole in my soul and I aim to fill it. Go on and do what you have to. That’s all I got left.”
“What do you mean, Dooney? Dooney?” Tangie realized he’d disconnected the call. She picked up the business card offered by the homicide detective working Dior’s case, felt sorry for Dooney, and then prayed.
Thirty-four
Damaged Souls
Dooney checked in with his mother hours after speaking with Tangie. He apprised Billie Rae on the latest developments, the harassing detective, and the news about Dior’s gun. Billie listened to her only remaining child quietly while she analyzed the information he’d come across. Dooney seemed relentless in his pursuit to even the score. His mother wasn’t so sure anymore. “Dooney, this changes everything. Maybe this Richard didn’t mean to kill Dior. You know she had a bad temper.”
“I don’t care, Mama,” he shouted. “My sister is dead and I told you I was gonna get him.”
“And my daughter is gone. I’m not making small of that. It just seemed so cut and dry when we found her body. You were hurt and I was hurting too. Yes, Dior passed away but we don’t know how it happened.”
“It don’t much matter to me. Somebody caused it,” he argued. “When I run up on Richard Allamay, I’ll know right off whether he’s the one deserves to join Dior.”
“Come home, Dooney,” Billie Rae pleaded. “Come on home so we can talk.” As he deliberated, another shuttle arrived from the airport. Dooney slid down in the front seat like he’d done before when it parked in front of the mansion. This time, his patience paid off. Richard exited the van by himself, with a duffel bag under his arm. “Do you hear me, son?” Billie Rae was saying. “I said for you to get back here, where we can hash this out.”
“Ain’t nothing else to say. Bye, Mama.”
Dooney watched Richard enter through the front door. He jogged up the street with his automatic tucked in the waistband of his jeans. After circling to the backyard, he hopped the brick fence surrounding the cement patio. He saw his mark standing in the foyer and Richard’s wife coming down the stairs to greet him. Dooney decided it was the perfect time to crash their homecoming.
“Nadeen, I’ve been calling you all day,” said Richard, wearing a tired expression. “Why didn’t you pick up?”
“You should be the one to question me? Since your secretary called me last night talking about my husband might want to clear his name I’ve had nothing but questions.” Nadeen thought she heard something in the other side of the house but ignored it. “So, you’re going to make me ask why the police want to come by here and question you about a murder case!” Her eyes were so red and glassy, Richard tried to control her voice by lowering his.
“Slow down, Nadeen. Slow down. I haven’t seen you in days and the first thing I get is this?”
“Maybe I should wait on the police and see what they can get out of you,” she spat, venom dripping from her lips. “I want answers, Richard. Did you have anything to do with what happened to Dior?” Richard froze when a stranger sauntered out of his kitchen with a shiny gun pointed at him.
“Yeah, I’ve been waiting to hear about that myself. Move over there and sit down,” he instructed Richard. “You too, lady.” Richard swallowed hard but Nadeen seemed unmoved by the intrusion into her own home. “Now that I got your attention, you’re gonna tell me why you killed my sister.”
“Your sister?” Nadeen asked, looking the man over carefully. “Lord have mercy.”
“Dior, she told me she had a twin,” Richard sighed.
Dooney walked closer to the sofa, where the others huddled. With calculated steps, he started a death march leading to Richard’s feet. He cocked the gun, then held it against the pastor’s forehead. “It’s about time you got to telling.”
“Okay, okay — wait,” Richard uttered, his hands raised in the air. “I went to see Dior, but I didn’t kill her. She — she got mad when I told her it was over. I tried to leave but she pulled a gun on me.” His eyes blinked rapidly, unsure which blink would be his last. “And — and I reached for the gun. I grabbed the barrel and the thing went off, twice. We both went tumbling down the stairs. I thought she’d shot me. I thought I was dead. Honest, I didn’t do nothing to hurt her.”
“The coroner said Dior was still alive after the fall severed her spinal cord. Why’d you leave her there!” Dooney questioned heatedly. “She died like a dog because of you.” He steadied his trigger finger to fire.
“Because I was scared!” Richard whined, staring wildly into his attacker’s eyes. “I was scared.”
“Uh-huh, bet you real scared now?”
“Please don’t shoot him, young man,” cried Nadeen. “Please don’t kill my husband.”
Dooney clenched his teeth. “Give me a good reason not to after what he did?”
“Because he’s not worth it,” she answered emphatically. Richard’s eyes grew wider still. “If you murder him, your life would be ruined too . . . and this man is not worth that. He’s not worth another damaged soul.”
Richard gasped when thunderous knocks sounded at the front door. He shrugged when Dooney asked who that could be. Nadeen knew most assuredly. “Don’t you know? That’s who the Lord sent to save you from making a grave mistake.” She didn’t ask permission to answer the door. Instead, she reached out her hand toward Dooney. His eyes danced erratically back and forth. “Let this be the best thing you ever did for your mother. Put that gun away and sit down.”
Richard was shocked when Dooney lowered his weapon. He leaned against the sofa cushion and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Thank you, God. Thank you.”
“Oh, you think it’s over?” said Dooney. “What until your company leaves; I’ll be right back on that . . .”
“Yes sir, officer,” Nadeen said, loud enough to be overheard in the den. “My husband is home.” Dooney slid the gun beneath the sofa, figuring that’s where the police had the hardest time finding Dior’s. He watched Richard as Nadeen returned to the room with two plainclothes detectives. Her demeanor was unbelievably casual considering what she’d moments before experienced. “And this is Mr. Wicker, a friend of the family.”
The female officer placed her hand on her weapon. “Wicker? That’s the same name as the deceased.”
“He’s her brother,” said Richard. “He’s only here to make sure I do the right thing.” Richard gave a full statement, detailing his affair with Dior and everything he could remember about the night in question. Surprisingly, he managed to recall Dior’s voice begging him not to leave her helpless on the floor. Dooney and Nadeen sat side by side, listening to each word, tortured by one after the next. Before the police took Richard into custody, Dooney understood how a man in his position could have succumbed to fears of the unknown. Dior was right about him; Richard wasn’t made to behave in the ways he did when with her. He wasn’t the man she needed or the one he thought he wanted to be. Nadeen sat alone, dazed and confused. Richard was the husband she never knew.
Reading Group Guide
1. Should Nadeen have divorced Richard when she confirmed suspicions about another woman?
2. Did Richard have immediate intentions of sleeping with Dior after meeting her at the clothing salon?
3. Why do you think Richard risked his marriage and career to become intimate with Dior?
4. Was Nadeen’s threat to pay off Dior a rational decision?
5. Did Tangie do enough to discourage Dior’s simultane
ous affair with two married men?
6. Was Phillip out of place for fighting Richard in the conference room?
7. Was Rose negligent as a friend to Nadeen for keeping quiet about the revelation Phillip shared in strict confidence?
8. Did Mahalia’s voodoo charm have anything to do with Dior’s tragic fall?
9. Richard had several opportunities to break up with Dior. Why wasn’t he able to do it?
10. During Dior’s last days, what did she say that affected you the most?
11. Do you think Nadeen would have taken Richard back if Dooney hadn’t shown up?
12. Do you think Dior got what she deserved in the end? Why or why not?
About the Author
Essence bestselling author VICTOR MCGLOTHIN is a former bank vice president who nearly forfeited an athletic scholarship due to poor reading skills. Ultimately, he overcame that obstacle and later completed a master’s degree in human relations and business. Victor is also an online columnist of Victor Said?, a real brotha-to-sistah look at relationships.
Living in Dallas with his wife and two sons, Victor is hard at work on his next novel and movie projects.
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