by Aray Brown
“Zoe? Sandra?” He called out.
As Maize explored further, the texture of the floor was different.
What is this? He thought.
He switched on the lights, scrutinizing the black goo on his shoe and came to face-to-face with his bride—laying in a pool of her own black and viscid blood—the letter K predominantly carved in her. Maize scanned her pale face, then the negligee she wore just for him. It was ripped, either from the struggle or something far worse. Enfolding her in his arms, he bellowed, letting all the anger and fear pour out. Maize spotted the knife near the stairwell, picked it up. He heard footsteps. He wasn’t alone.
The children were behind him. He faced them, caught their intense stare.
The sound of police sirens broke their peace. What were they doing up there so long? Didn’t they hear her scream? How did the police get here so fast? He thought.
Police officers encircled the home—dusting for prints—taking snapshots of the victim from all angles—observing the body—questioning the children.
Maize was in custody, fitting the description from an anonymous 911 caller. Medina eyed the corpse, tears trickling down her cheek, and then faced Maize, blatantly ignoring the seasoned officer who was growing impatient by the second. She had a scar on her face from a case she dare not speak of and piercing eyes.
“Do you guys know what happened?” The detective asked.
The children were still in shock and had no recollection of what transpired. They had so many things consuming them; it was hard keeping them straight.
“Did your mom have any enemies? Come on, help me help you. Talk!” She yelled at the children.
No response.
“Talk.” She repeated, lost her temper.
“They’ve been through enough.” Another officer stepped in.
“Have they?” The detective said.
The Master Sergeant strolled in, lifted up the yellow tape and examined the stiff. It reeked of putrefaction. The stench was in the atmosphere. It was so thick she couldn’t stand it. The sergeant threw up, and then covered her mouth. “What do we have?” The sergeant asked.
“Single black female, her name is Zoe Whitaker, early thirties, bullet to the head and the perp was thoughtful enough to send a message. We got a suspect in custody. His fingerprints are all over the murder weapon. He’s got motive and opportunity.” She replied.
“Did anyone see anything?” the sergeant asked.
“According to the 911 caller they were the last ones to see her alive. They know something but they’re not talking. Frigging freaks of nature is what they are.” She said.
“Their mother was hacked into. Show a little compassion.” The sergeant said.
“Aye, aye sir.” She said.
The children were on the couch. Their minds drew a complete blank. The master sergeant approached, joined them. She knew what it was like to lose a parent. The children looked into her eyes. Her eyes were as deep as pools that they could see themselves in them.
“My name is Sergeant Aiko. I know this is tough. I considered Zoe a friend. I want to put whoever did this behind bars, but I need your help.”
Medina and Isabel glanced at the detective. Then at her face. It was anything but kind, more so distrustful. They felt uncomfortable around her.
“It’s a nice night. Let’s take a walk.” The sergeant said.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sergeant.” The detective said.
“I don’t pay you to think, Detective. I’m making an exception. Got a problem with that?” The sergeant said.
The detective gritted her teeth and mumbled under her breath.
They walked outside as the coroner stuffed the corpse in the body bag. The image was something they couldn’t escape. They walked along the paved sidewalk, the night sky bouncing off their faces.
“I know you’re scared. The world can be a terrifying place when you don’t know who to trust. He could’ve killed you both.” The sergeant said.
“He wouldn’t do that.” Medina said.
“Why wouldn’t he?” The sergeant asked.
“Cause Daddy paid him off.” The children said in unison, chanted. The creepy monotone sent a chill down her spine. They pointed to the back of the cruiser. Maize was in cuffs, worried he would never see the twins again.
The door busted open. Maize and Detective Holcomb entered the department. Then Sergeant Aiko and the twins, ambling in single file. All eyes were on the children. Holcomb tightened her grip, threw him in the interrogation room. Meanwhile, Aiko led the twins to an empty desk.
“Have a seat.” She said, walked away, and then closed the door as she followed Holcomb in the room.
The police interrogation room was sparsely furnished, just a table and three chairs. The furniture was plain. There was a cassette recorder on the table and a large one-way mirror. The lighting was cold and harsh.
Holcomb walked in, approached the table and sat a warm cup of coffee in front of him.
“Maybe you should get these things off me first; they’re digging into my skin.” Maize said.
The detective retrieved the key and unlocked the cuffs.
“Thanks.” Maize said, sipped the coffee, and tried to piece everything together. His world was literally turned upside down. The loss of Zoe hit him like a ton of bricks.
“Ok Maize you know the drill, where were on the night in question?” Aiko asked.
“At the office, I was there until twelve. I got an anonymous call from someone threatening to kill my fiancé’. I rushed home.”Maize said.
“Can your secretary confirm that?” Holcomb interjected, snarling at him.
“No. I gave her the day off.” Maize said.
“How convenient, how far is your job?” Holcomb said.
“Twenty minutes away.” Maize said.
“According to the coroner, your wife was slain at twelve-thirty” Holcomb said.
“A mere coincidence.” Maize said.
“It’s more than just a mere coincidence.” Holcomb said.
“It’s just a coincidence! It was too late! I took a short cut. My car stalled. I ran on foot but I was too late.” Maize said.
The detective got up, pressed her hands firmly on the table.
“Let me paint a picture for you. That pretty little wife of yours, she got restless. I’ve seen it a thousand times. Maybe you couldn’t satisfy her in bed. Or maybe she was just a filthy whore.” Holcomb said.
Maize charged at her and grabbed her by the collar. He never wanted to hit a woman more in his life. Officers like her knew which buttons to push.
“You’re a real jerk you know that.” Maize said.
The detective laughed, smiled slyly as he loosened his grip.
“She had an affair. You found out about it, told her to call it off. She wouldn’t. And you figured, if you can’t have her no one else will. You killed her. And the baby was just a bonus.” Holcomb dropped the autopsy report on the table.
What baby? He thought.
He opened the folder, thumbed through the report.
“Leave us; I need a moment with him.” The sergeant said.
The detective left, slamming the door behind him. Aiko snatched a chair, sat across from him and withdrew a pack of cigarettes.
“Smoke?” She said.
“Please.” Maize said.
Aiko struck a match, lit up, then him. They inhaled deeply.
“You gotta believe me.” Maize said.
“You gotta understand the position I’m in. We have no other suspects. No leads. My hands are tied.” She said.
“What about Sandra?” He asked.
“I have a sworn statement from her boss claiming she was with him all night. And that phone call you received, traced it all the way down to this sweet old lady from Rochester.” She said.
“Alex?” He asked.
“He’s disappeared. House was empty, looked like it never been lived in. Already put out a BOLO. Best I can do.” She
said.
“What happens to my kids?” He asked.
“You know how the system works.” She said.
“I’m afraid I do. They’re all they have left. If they get split up, it’ll do more damage than good.” Maize said.
“I’ll try my best. In the meantime, lawyer up. Know any good attorneys? For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” She said, leaving the room.
Later, an officer took him back to the holding cell.
The children and Maize exchanged glances. They didn’t know what to feel. Nothing would be the same again.
12.
“This is Phil. He’s here to take you to a new home.” Aiko said, kneeling down.
Medina and Isabel faced him, stared him down as if he was anything but human.
“You must be the twins I’ve heard so much about.” The social worker said.
“You must be death.” Isabel said.
The twins glared at his rugged face and kind smile. They didn’t care who he was or what he was there for. To them, he was the enemy.
Medina and Isabel flew past them to the exit, running as fast as they could. They didn’t know where they were headed but they knew they’d be together. They were adamant on making their own way. They looked back only for a minute. The social worker and the sergeant were behind them. Medina and Isabel kept running faster and faster. The social worker and Aiko chased after them like a pack of wild dogs. They came closer. And closer. The twins had never been apart, literally joined at the hip. They were sisters. So different from each other but still blood. They needed each other more than ever. They were longing for the days when everything was perfect.
The funeral was held at a cemetery of her choosing.
The director handled all the arrangements. Prior to the unfortunate incident, Zoe made a will declaring her final wishes, making Maize the beneficiary.
The twins were surrounded by her friends. Henry’s family heard the news and wanted to pay their respects.
An oversized photograph of Zoe stood beside the casket. The mourners took in her creamy brown skin and honey eyes and remembered how she was. The kind of person she was. Tears streamed down their faces. Medina and Isabel sat next to each other, hands clasped together, knowing this was the last time. They knew their lives would never be the same. The twins approached the casket, gawked at her, imagining the horrid exposed body as if it was revealed to the public. The twins laid a single black rose at her side.
“Bye Mother.” Isabel mumbled under her breath.
Medina bent down, kissed her on the cheek. Then her mind traced back to that night. How she looked. How pale her face was.
Who was really behind this?
Maize stepped forward, spoke in a tone that could only be perceived by the undead, shed a few tears and shuffled back to his seat, where the guard was waiting for him.
“Ashes to Ashes, and dust to dust.” The pastor recited.
The twins watched the pine box descend deeper and deeper in the ground, thus making it a defining moment in their childhood that nothing lasts forever. Life doesn’t go the way you expect, no matter how badly or how desperate. They didn’t know what lie ahead for them. They were more than scared. They felt terrified.
Isabel gazed at the grave as if Zoe’s death was absolute. A single hot tear dropped from her cold cheek to the final resting place, then another. Maize walked past, glanced at her face and halted.
“It’s time to go.” The guard said.
“Give me a minute. I’m sorry Issy.” Maize said.
“Everybody’s sorry about something.” Isabel said.
“It’s okay to cry. I loved her too.” Maze replied.
“Did you kill her?” Isabel asked.
“How can you ask me that?” Maize asked, sadness in his voice.
“Alright let’s go.” The guard shoved him, led him back to the squad car. She watched him leave.
It had to be him. Who else could it be? She thought.
The ones who knew the truth planned to take it to their graves. The twins knew what had happened. Either they were sworn to secrecy by the man they trusted. Or they were threatened by a man they hardly knew.
Medina stared at the headstone, looked at her morose reflection in its polished surface. Suddenly an unfamiliar voice caught her off guard. She was a short little thing with a thick Spanish accent.
“Hi.” Ava said.
Medina turned around to face her. She thought she was alone.
“Hi.” She replied.
“I’m sorry about your mother.” Ava said.
“Thanks. Are you going to say she was a good person too?” She said, with a little sass.
“There is no good or bad. My mother says we’re all sinners.” Ava replied.
A scruffy mysterious man emerged out of nowhere, dressed in a black suit and hair down to his neck.
He closed in on Medina, his probing eyes beating down her back. They told a story. Medina spotted him from a distance, convinced he was just another onlooker, a stranger.
“Is that man your dad?” Ava asked, gestured to the mysterious man.
“I don’t have a father.” Medina glared at him.
“Ava! We have to go!” A woman cried out.
“Bye.”Ava said.
“Bye.” Medina mumbled under her breath. She looked up. The social worker motioned to the car. She walked towards him, got in the back seat, glanced at Isabel. They visualized what their new life would be like. What kind of foster parents they would have. No one could ever take Zoe’s place. They knew going in that whatever mother they’d get stuck with would be a mere consolation prize.
January, 2000
The twin’s first foster family was temporary, an old brick house that was owned by an old lady. She had a gang of kids who were deemed unwanted and unloved. She ruled with an iron fist and gave all the love she could, in her own unique way. It was a home but it wasn’t theirs. They wouldn’t have a place to call home again. They made a few friends but most of the time kept to themselves. It was hard getting used to a new place. The girls and boys who resided there made up their minds about the twins, labeling them as stuck up and vain. The twins spent most nights lying in bed, letting their imaginations carry them to a far off place, where they could be anyone they wanted to be and go anywhere they wanted to go. They escaped their troubles by creating their own little world. To deal with the bad hand life had dealt them.
The next morning their worst fear had been realized. Two social workers had come to the old house to split them up, revving their engines with anticipation. Lord knows what kind of people they would put them with. Everyone was different. They embraced and held on tight. Neither one of them wanted to let go. They didn’t want to say goodbye. Medina and Isabel vowed to be together even when they weren’t, courtesy of their secret world.
Medina and Isabel screamed as the workers pulled them apart. They shoved them in the back of the cars. Medina promised this wasn’t the end as she looked out the window, ogling Isabel. Isabel returned the gaze. They can’t keep us apart forever. She thought. Medina knew this didn’t mean goodbye forever. Just for a little while.
Isabel called out a name. K.O.L. Before the rest of the letters flew out of her mouth, Medina made a shush gesture like it was forbidden. Isabel nodded in agreement as they drifted further and further away.
13.
Maize glanced at his watch. He was an emotional wreck.
Where the hell is Spoonie? He thought. He nervously straightened his tie. Spoonie came busting through the doors, wearing a pinstripe suit and glasses. Both made him look distinguished. He came prepared, ready for anything the prosecutor threw at him. That made one of them.
Hamilton & Dunn was a medium sized firm. One of the well established firms in Chicago. They lost cases. But they also won a lot of them, which put Maize’s mind at ease. When Spoonie first got word of what had happened, he hired a P.I. to track Henry down but it seemed he had fallen off the face of the earth. No trace of him anywher
e. Henry didn’t return to his beloved hometown, where the police were waiting to detain him. Spoonie wasn’t the kind to give up so easily. He figured he’d slip up sooner or later and when the moment comes he’ll be there to catch him.
“Sorry, was held up.” Spoonie said.
“No problem, it’s just my life.” Maize said.
“All rise” The bailiff declared.
They stood in front of the judge. The prosecutor smirked at them. As far as she was concerned, it was an open and shut case and he would die by lethal injection.
“Court is now in session, the honorable Hal Weitzman presiding.” The bailiff announced.
“You may be seated. Mr. Blevins you are charged with first degree murder. How do you plead?” The judge asked.
“Not guilty.” Maize said.
“Your honor, I intend to prove that Mr. Blevins is nothing more than a common criminal who took the life of an innocent woman, robbing her children of the only mother they’ve ever known.” The prosecutor said, paused.
“You will hear from their heartfelt testimonies. You will see the truth, and I hope you find him guilty.” She said, facing the jury.
The prosecutor went back to her seat. It was time for Spoonie’s opening statement. He slowly stood up, took one look at his notes and addressed the jury. He couldn’t shake the fact that he was holding a man’s life in his hands. Not just any man, his best friend. He cleared his throat.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my client is not a criminal. He’s a victim. His entire life he’s done nothing wrong--“
“I wouldn’t call aggravated assault nothing.” She interrupted.
“Order in this court, I’m warning you counselor. “The judge banged his gavel.
“But to call it a step away from murder is nothing more than a desperate prosecutor reaching. I implore you to look carefully, to pay attention to the smallest detail. Then and only then, will you see the truth.”
Maize doodled on his pad, tried to picture the face of the man that was the root of his anguish. He couldn’t confirm it although he knew Henry was behind it somehow. All of this transpired when he came to town. Zoe’s old flame winded up being dangerous, once the fire had burned out.
