“Detective McGrady, I have to get in there,” Payton said, her voice trailing off.
“Hold on, Ms. Jones, I can’t let you down there.”
In the distance, Payton saw several men in black escorting a handcuffed woman down the driveway to the back of a waiting police vehicle.
“Oh God, did she shoot him?” she asked, trying to push past the detective.
“Ms. Jones, you have to stay back.”
A female voice squawking through the walkie-talkie stilled her.
“African American male, early forties, multiple gunshot wounds to the abdomen. Life Flight is en route.”
Payton’s shoulders instantly deflated, and everything seemed to be spinning out of control around her. She could feel Detective McGrady’s hands resting on her biceps, and it took her a moment before she was able to string together her next words.
“Can I go in the ambulance with him?”
“He’s being airlifted to John Muir Medical Center in Walnut Creek. The best thing you can do is meet him at the hospital. Are you okay to drive?”
Two ambulances arrived at once, and several police officers moved the blockade to let them through. The whooshing of blades grew louder. Payton looked up to see a black and white helicopter coming closer. She also noticed that the paparazzi had arrived and the street was swarming with cameras.
Payton glanced toward the house again and held her breath when she saw a gurney being wheeled out the door. In the distance, the figure being wheeled out looked to be another female. She was too far away to make out her features, but one paramedic was working on her while the other was holding what looked to be an IV bag above her head.
“Ms. Jones, does your brother have a wife?” Detective McGrady asked, bringing her thoughts back to the present.
“Yes.”
“I think you should call her.”
CHAPTER 41
Tony checked his cell phone again, hoping to see a text message miraculously appear. How could he be so careless? He hadn’t heard from Najee in over twenty-four hours and she wasn’t answering her phone or responding to his text messages. Something was wrong—he could feel it in his core.
He didn’t know Najee’s friends, he’d never met any of their parents, and he had no clue where anybody lived. Epic fail when it came to parenting a teenager. He went into her room again, hoping to find anything that would give him a clue to her whereabouts. Not sure what he was looking for this time, he lifted the mattress, hoping to find a diary, when he noticed a business card tossed in the wastebasket. He retrieved the plain black and white rectangle and read the name embossed in script.
Dante Wilson. Photographer.
Tony’s stomach tightened. What the hell did she need with a photographer?
He removed his cell phone from his jacket pocket and punched in the 925 area code, but an incoming call on the house phone stalled his attempt. He quickly grabbed the handset.
“Hello?”
“Tony?”
“Najee? Where are you? I’ve been calling and texting you for hours. Girl, you scared the hell out of me. Where are you?” Tony asked, relieved to finally hear her voice. “Najee? Are you there?”
There was a brief silence.
“Yes,” she finally replied, her voice small, almost a whisper coming through the phone.
“Whose phone is this?”
“I don’t know,” she said, her words clipped and quick. “I met this guy on Bay Street. He told me he could get me some modeling jobs. I was in the Rideshare car, and then they covered my face and I couldn’t breathe.” She started to sob, making her words incoherent.
“Baby, don’t cry. Just tell me where you are so I can come and get you.”
“I’m at a hospital.”
“What hospital? Is there someone there with you?”
“Yes.”
“Give them the phone, please.”
Tony tried to remain calm for his sister’s sake, but his insides were unraveling. He waited for what seemed like an eternity before a woman’s voice came on the line.
“Sir, my name is Justine Brooks and I’m with the Sexual Assault Response Task Force at John Muir Medical Center.”
“Sexual assault?”
“Yes, sir. I have Najee here with me. She’s safe. I need you to come to John Muir Medical Center. We’re located in Walnut Creek—”
Tony ended the call and threw the cordless phone against the wall. It splintered in multiple pieces. His mother was probably turning over in her grave. She had given him one simple task, to take care of his sister, and he fucking blew it. He leaned his over-six-foot frame against the wall and outwardly wept. When he found Dante Wilson, he was going to kill him with his bare hands.
CHAPTER 42
“Tell me why you were at Glover House again?” Detective McGrady asked Payton.
They were standing in the hallway outside the trauma unit, where a team of doctors was working on Donathan. Detective McGrady was a tall man, his features well-proportioned for his medium-brown face. He was ruggedly handsome, someone Payton would have gone out with under different circumstances. But tonight he looked like she felt—tired.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I can’t do this right now.” Payton kept glancing at her cell phone, frustrated by the weak reception. It had been over an hour since she had phoned both Sydney and Tony, but neither had arrived yet or called.
“Ma’am, I understand that you’re stressed, but we have one victim fighting for his life right now, and Ms. Mitchell, Ms. Greene, or whatever she’s calling herself today, is a very sick woman who required some extensive stitching. We need answers to help us get to the bottom of this.”
“Sonya Mitchell? That woman is knee-deep in criminal activity—”
“Does this have anything to do with her squatting on your property?”
Payton stared at the detective, a little suspicious by the nature of his questioning. Why would he ask her that? Did they think she was somehow involved? Once they found out that Lois and Austyn Greene were both related to her, she would become a prime suspect, too. She hesitated. “No. This has nothing to do with my property.”
“Did you know that Sonya Mitchell and Lois Greene are the same person?”
“Is that her only alias?” Payton questioned without answering his.
“Probably not. People like her have multiple aliases that we don’t have a clue about. Identity theft is out of control these days,” the detective said, jotting something on his notepad. “I hope you didn’t have anything in the house she could use to steal your identity. Her rap sheet is pretty extensive, and I’m sure she and her low-life friends are ready to prey on anyone they can. Do you know a Najee Simone Barnes?”
“She’s my, umm, boyfriend’s younger sister. Why are you asking?”
“It seems she got caught up in the sex trafficking ring. We found her at the motel in Pittsburg this morning locked in the bathroom of the deceased. She’s not saying much, but I need to locate her family.”
A wave of nausea washed over her as random thoughts flooded Payton’s brain. She’d been calling Tony for the last hour and hadn’t heard back from him.
“Where is she?”
“I’m not at liberty to say, but we want to reunite her with her family as soon as possible.”
The word “family” hung in the air for Payton. Her grandparents taught her what the word meant. If they hadn’t, she probably would have ended up just like Lois. On drugs or in jail.
“Is Najee okay?” Payton asked. She’d met Najee briefly at her mother’s funeral, but she felt a certain kinship.
“Who did you say her brother was, again?”
“Anthony. Anthony Barnes. Look, Detective McGrady, I’m sorry, but I can’t do this right now—”
“Criminal or not, she didn’t deserve to be sliced up like that,” Detective McGrady said, interrupting her thoughts. “I’ll give you time for things to calm down, but I need you to call me as soon as your brother is out of the
woods.” He stood and moved to the door.
“We’ll talk more later,” he called after her.
* * *
Payton walked away with so many unanswered questions. She wondered exactly what her uncle Sheldon knew about all this. For months, he’d been dropping hints about Lois Greene, and whenever he talked about his friend who had been court-ordered to rehab, he never once said a name. It all made perfect sense now. Sheldon had known all along that Sonya Mitchell and Lois Greene were one and the same. Maybe that’s why he’d been so nervous and disappeared during the chaos of the shooting. And exactly what did he know about the sex trafficking ring?
A few hours ago, she was practically salivating to find Lois Greene. She wanted to confront that bitch and get her out of her life once and for all. But unfortunately for Lois, her other daughter had found her first. Payton wondered if she had any other half siblings out there, and if Lois even knew that the woman who’d cut her was her daughter...
Her thoughts quickly drifted back to Donathan. He had to be okay. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself knowing that her family had harmed the husband of her closest friend.
And then she thought about everybody else. Donathan and Sydney both knew that she and Austyn Greene were related. He had figured the relationship out before she had. But what would everyone else think when they found out that her half sister was the reason Donathan was fighting for his life?
She needed answers and a stiff drink to calm her nerves. But the one man who could give her those answers was probably hiding out in one of those crack dens with a glass pipe perched between his lips and wouldn’t surface for a few days. But when he did, Payton would be right there to strangle his ass.
Pulling out her phone again, she headed for the bank of elevators, hoping she’d have better reception once she got out of the basement. When the doors slid open, Payton scrolled through her text messages as she made her way over to the information desk. Still nothing from Sydney or Tony.
“Is there a phone I can use?” she asked the woman seated comfortably behind the desk. The woman, wearing a pink smock with the word Volunteer embroidered on the left pocket, was in her late sixties, not a single strand of her classically coiffed curls out of place.
“I’m sorry, dear, but the hospital doesn’t allow visitors to use the phone lines for personal use,” she replied with a polite smile.
Payton started to explain, but instead turned away and headed down the long corridor toward an exit.
When she reached the parking lot, Tyrese and the Jameses were making their way toward the hospital entrance. For a brief moment she was surprised to see Tyrese, who looked forlorn and disheveled. He’d let his beard grow in, and the sweat suit he wore looked like he’d had it on for a few days. All remnants of being enmeshed in a nasty divorce. But him being there made sense; he, Tony, and Donathan were good friends. But still no sign of Tony.
* * *
Sylver James was a stark contrast to the men in her perfectly tailored red St. John suit, with a stunning multicolored scarf tossed across her shoulders.
“How is he?” Sylver asked, out of breath.
“They haven’t given me any information about his condition since I arrived.”
“Is Sydney with him?”
“She’s on her way.”
CHAPTER 43
The black Dodge Viper hummed into the parking lot. When it stopped along the curb, a frazzled Sydney jumped out. She was without makeup, dressed in jeans, and a fitted T-shirt, and her hair was pulled back into a wet ponytail. As Sydney came closer, Payton could see that her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying, and the fear on Sydney’s face was palpable.
“Please tell me that he’s okay,” Sydney said.
“I don’t know,” Payton said.
“This is absurd! Malcolm, go find out what’s happening to my child.”
The elder Dr. James was all business as he passed a cluster of ladies smoking cigarettes and wearing T-shirts with the words Glover House imprinted on them. Everyone followed, including Miles, who had exited his car and appeared holding a woman’s handbag. Before they reached the automatic doors, Payton turned abruptly and reached for Sydney’s purse.
“I got it from here,” she said, her eyes boring into his. It took Miles a minute before he reluctantly passed Payton the purse.
“I just want to make sure she’s okay—”
“She’s fine,” Payton said, her eyes steady on Miles and clutching the black leather handbag close to her chest. This man had it bad, and if Sydney knew what was good for her, she’d stay as far away from Miles Day as possible.
“Tell her I’ll call her later.”
“Look, Miles. It’s in everybody’s best interest if you would just leave her alone.”
“I don’t mean any disrespect, but I’ll leave her alone when she tells me to leave her alone.”
* * *
Inside the emergency room waiting area, the elder Dr. James turned to his wife and said, “Wait right here.” He grabbed Sydney by the hand and made his way to the front desk, where he and Sydney exchanged a few words with the nurse, then disappeared behind a set of closed double doors.
“What happened?” Tyrese asked.
“Who shot him and why were you with him?” Sylver asked.
Payton looked from one to the other as they fired a barrage of questions. She had her suspicions about what happened to Donathan in that house, but she refused to voice them out loud until she knew more. “Look,” she snapped. “I know you both want answers, but I’ve told you everything I know.”
Payton walked away, massaging her temples, trying to release the building pressure that was threatening a migraine. The antiseptic smell was making her sick, and she needed all of them to shut the hell up and quit asking her questions. Even if she wanted to say something, how the hell was she going to tell them that her half sister was the reason Donathan was on the other side of those doors fighting for his life?
Payton wanted no connection to a longtime past that she had fought so hard to escape. She just wanted to be Payton Marie Jones, not anybody’s half sister or daughter, just like she had been before Lois popped back on the radar.
A few minutes later, the doors behind the intake nurse opened, and Payton noticed Detective McGrady standing next to a woman lying on a gurney parked in the hallway. The woman wore bloodstained bandages on half of her face and on both arms. That had to be Lois. Payton stared a moment, trying to remember the earliest memory of the woman who had given birth to her, but nothing registered. This woman seemed older than Payton remembered, but it was more than that. Lois used to be pretty, but this woman hadn’t been pretty in a very long time. She had to be at least sixty, and from what Payton could see, the toxins of twenty-five-plus years of drug abuse had taken a toll. The whites of her eyes were a deep yellow, and from a distance her once-caramel-colored skin looked worn and leathery.
She could have walked past this woman on the street and would have had no idea that it was she who had given birth to her.
The doors closed, obstructing her view, but Payton’s thoughts continued to whirl, and at that moment it occurred to her that leaving was the best gift Lois Greene could have ever given her.
The double doors through which Sydney and the elder Dr. James had gone earlier swooshed open, and Payton jerked her head in that direction, hoping it was somebody with news, but her hope quickly vanished, replaced by what felt like a lead weight settling into the pit of her stomach. Detective McGrady took deliberate strides toward her with a confused look on his face.
The closer he got, the more Payton felt like a caged animal.
“Miss Jones, Miss Jones. I need you to clarify something for me. Is it true that Lois Greene is your mother?”
Suddenly, Payton’s skin felt hot and sticky all over. She couldn’t believe that bitch had the audacity to refer to herself as her mother, or anybody’s mother for that matter. Avoiding this very truth had been Payton’s shield of protection, bu
t there was also the hate that smoldered just beneath the surface.
Over the years, she’d imagined what she would say if the opportunity came for her to confront the woman who’d left her behind like she was a piece of trash, but Payton’s practiced, rated-R words stayed trapped in her throat.
Everyone in the room, including Sylver and Tyrese, seemed to be holding their breath waiting for her to acknowledge the unthinkable.
The door behind the intake nurse opened again. This time, Payton made eye contact with the woman lying on the gurney with missing teeth and skin the color of worn Nubuck. The time had arrived to face her truth, whether she wanted to or not. She held the woman’s gaze.
“Mother?” Payton replied, loud enough for everyone to hear. “That woman did give birth to me, but my mother died a very long time ago.”
CHAPTER 44
Tony walked into the main lobby of John Muir Medical Center sheathed in a strong feeling of déjà vu. Over the past few weeks, he’d spent so much time in hospitals. First his mother, then Donathan after the first attack, and now both Donathan and his sister were here in this hospital. For the umpteenth time, he wanted to hit something.
He’d finally listened to his multiple voice mails from Payton telling him to get here as soon as possible because Donathan had been shot. From the way her voice sounded, things were pretty bleak and all he could do was hope for the best, but being summoned to the hospital didn’t sound like good news to him. Was his best friend dead? Was that why she was so vague?
Suddenly the enormity of the situation washed over him. His best friend was somewhere in this building fighting for his life and there was a strong possibility he could be dead. Donathan and Najee both had to be okay.
He parked the car haphazardly, adrenaline propelling him through the double doors that read Emergency Entrance. Immediately, the subtle smells of sickness and anxiety mingled with hospital antiseptics made him nauseated. He hated being here.
In a waiting room off the main corridor, Tony noticed Tyrese, Sylver James—or Mrs. Jay, as he referred to the woman who was like a second mother to him—and Payton, who was face-to-face with a man he’d seen before, but couldn’t place at the moment. He stepped inside, and Payton hurried to him, the fear in her eyes evident.
Surviving the Chase Page 18
