by Kiki Swinson
“I will be there,” I assured him. “Please, Scotty, she doesn’t have anything to do with all of this. She doesn’t even know anything about it,” I cried. He started laughing. That same crazy, maniacal laugh that had scared the shit out of me before Richard’s funeral. This motherfucker wasn’t working with a full deck at all.
“She knows everything now. She’s a witness, so you better think about that shit,” Scotty hissed. Then he disconnected.
I hung up the phone. I rushed over to my bag and pulled out my Glock. I was going to save my sister. Scotty thought he was the only motherfucker who could get gangsta. He had another think coming to his punk ass. I checked out of the W and headed back to the Tidewater area. Scotty had better pray for his sake that I find Paulette with not a hair harmed on her fucking head.
9
As soon as I got back into Virginia, an ominous feeling came over me. It was like an instinct and I couldn’t keep my teeth from chattering. I switched the radio station in my latest rental car to the local station. As soon as I turned on the radio, it was like divine intervention. The first station I turned to was the local news station. “Police are investigating what appears to be the senseless murder of a local nurse. Paulette Mitchell was found strangled to death in her Salem Lakes condominium.. . .” I didn’t hear anything else. It felt like a loud bell had been rung in my ears. Blood was rushing through my veins so hard and fast I was burning up all over my body. I swerved the car off the road and came to a screeching halt.
“Nooo! Oh God no!” I begged, banging my fists on the steering wheel so hard I broke the skin on my knuckles. “Agghh!” I screamed and screamed until the back of my throat burned like I had just swallowed a stick of fire. I couldn’t even catch my breath. “Paulette! Oh God! Paulette, I’m so sorry!” I just continued to scream for what seemed like an eternity. “Scotty, you will fucking pay! You will fucking pay!” My voice echoed around the car. My chest heaved up and down uncontrollably. I had to take deep cleansing breaths in order to stop the spinning in my head. My hands were trembling like crazy.
I finally pulled myself together enough to speak calmly. I set out to dial Scotty’s phone number. I had to stop dialing seven or eight times because I could not get myself calm enough to act as if I didn’t know anything. I needed to be my old self. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do because my insides were churning with a mixture of pain and anger. I swallowed a golf-ball-sized lump that was sitting in my throat and dialed his number once more. This time I didn’t hang up. I waited for him to answer. I was biting down into my lip so hard I drew blood. The metallic taste of it made me feel animalistic. I closed my eyes and could see myself ripping Scotty’s fucking head off and shitting down his neck. Even as I imagine my revenge, I was afraid that he’d go after the other people in my life. I pumped my left hand in and out, trying to get my anger under wraps. The vein in my neck was pulsing fiercely against my neck when I heard Scotty’s voice.
“I didn’t think you were really gonna call me. I guess you weren’t bluffing,” Scotty finally answered. No hello or nothing. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to keep my emotions in check. Bluffing, motherfucker? You thought I was bluffing, so you killed my sister? I screamed inside my head.
“Where do you want to meet, Scotty? I have something for you . . . something you definitely deserve,” I said as calmly as I could.
“Whoa, whoa, slow your roll. Now you calling the shots? I thought you was the one who dipped out on a nigga after the deed was done,” he said, being a smart-ass.
I exhaled and swallowed the words I really wanted to say to him.
“We can meet on my terms in my hood. Meet me at the corner of Princess Anne Road near the Longshoremen Hall. Don’t try no funny shit or else your sister is gonna get it,” Scotty told me.
I bit down into my tongue, drawing more blood. Tears sprang into my eyes when he mentioned my sister. He knew what he had done already. Fucking piece of shit! I had to make sure he didn’t hurt anyone else.
“I’ll be there as soon as the sun goes down. Come alone or the deal is off. Just like you got people, I got people, too, Scotty. I have your money, so don’t try no bullshit or else nobody wins,” I rasped. I reached down and touched the gun that sat on my lap. Scotty or Lil Man or whatever he wanted to call himself was going to regret the day he ever crossed paths with Melody Goldman.
“All I want is what’s mine, baby girl. We ain’t got no beef,” Scotty said, chuckling like it was one big fucking joke. That shit sent embers of fire through my body. I couldn’t wait until it was time to meet up with him. I hung up, my anger palpable. There was going to be hell to pay!
I cried the entire day over what happened to Paulette. I didn’t know where to go. I couldn’t go to her house. My old house was locked up and on the market. I definitely wasn’t going to my mother. I was wracked with guilt. I felt responsible for Paulette’s death and to a certain extent I was. There were so many ways I could’ve handled things without getting her in the middle.
It was finally time for me to go to the meeting place. Of course it was in the seediest fucking place in the Tidewater area. At that point, I didn’t care. I had obviously arrived first, which is how I had planned it. I sat in the car, swinging my leg in anticipation. I watched as Scotty pulled up in his all black Tahoe. His windows were tinted so dark he could’ve had anybody hiding in the back. I felt uneasy, but thoughts of Paulette kept me from running away. This was something I had to do. If I had gone to those lengths to take revenge on Richard, I don’t know what the fuck made Scotty believe I would let him slide for killing my sister. I watched him get out of the Tahoe and stand in front of it. He had his hands shoved down into the pockets of his jeans. I crept out of the car, removed my shoes, and moved stealthily like a lion sneaking up on its prey. I knew then that Scotty had been slipping. He didn’t see me yet. He didn’t know what car to expect or anything. Some street thug he was. You would think he would’ve asked so he could have the jump on me instead of the other fucking way around. He was too busy murdering a fucking innocent woman to ask any questions of me. I put my gun in my strong shooting hand and extended it out in front of me. Just like Richard had taught me. I slowly eased up on Scotty from the side. He never saw my ass coming.
“Don’t fucking move, you piece of shit,” I hissed, placing the cold steel of the 9 mm Glock to the side of his head. Scotty started laughing nervously. He went to take his hands out of his pockets. “I said don’t fucking make any moves,” I growled. He could see out of the corner of his eye that my finger was in the trigger guard.
“Damn, it’s like that, Ma? Not even three months ago you was riding my dick into the sunset.” Scotty smirked. He was trying to make jokes to mask his fear. Maybe he was trying to throw me off. I could tell he was scared because I could see his shirt fluttering from his rapid heartbeat. There was nothing that could deter me from this mission.
“You killed my sister, you fucking devil. All you had to do was wait for what was coming to you, but you couldn’t wait,” I gritted. I could feel the tears coming. My nostrils flared as I fought back the tears. Showing weakness could be deadly in a situation like this.
“I didn’t kill your fuckin’ sister. I didn’t touch her,” Scotty said, his voice cracking with fear.
“Oh no? I heard on the news she was dead—strangled to death. You’re the only motherfucker who would do something like that to Paulette. Did you really think you would get away with killing her and then come here and collect my fucking dead husband’s insurance money? You are dumber than I thought!” I hissed.
Scotty suddenly jumped and turned toward me. He scared the shit out of me. “Agh!” I screamed.
He hit me in the face and I almost lost my balance. The pain of the hit reverberated through my skull. Scotty rammed into me with all of his might. He reached out and tried to grab the gun out of my hands. “You bitch! You was trying to—” he growled as we struggled over the gun. I refused to let go. I knew my grasp meant
the difference between my life and death.
“Let go!” I shouted. Scotty was still trying to overpower me. I started recalling all of the gun-retention techniques Richard had showed me on our many trips to the gun range. Who knew that shit would ever come in handy? Scotty held on tight to the hand that had the gun. He was overpowering me so much I couldn’t even get my finger out of the trigger guard. I felt when the slack went out of the trigger. The little click let me know that the gun was about to go off. I dropped my hand and pushed it away from myself and into Scotty’s body. “You better let go . . . ,” I started to warn. Scotty didn’t listen. One more touch of that trigger and . . . BANG!
One shot pierced through the night. My body shook from the powerful shot. I could no longer hear anything as my ears began to ring painfully. My eyes popped wide open and my mouth formed into an O like I was going to scream but nothing came out. Next, I felt the weight of Scotty’s body as he began falling to the ground. He was making this sickening face as if he was in great pain. I could tell he was saying something, but the ringing in my inner ear prevented me from hearing what he was saying. I was trying desperately to get him off of me, but he was strong. He was fighting me. He had a death hold on me. His eyes were wide. I couldn’t believe that he was still trying to fight me for the gun.
“Get off of me!” I growled, trying to use my other hand to mush Scotty’s face and get him off of me. My finger was still stuck in the trigger guard. Scotty grabbed the gun again; this time he put his dead weight on it.
BANG! Another involuntary shot rang out. That time I was more prepared for it. And that time Scotty’s body completely went limp. His grasp on me loosened right away, and he slid down the front of me, onto the ground. His mouth hung wide open like he was about to scream in pain. His eyes were also open, gazing up at me eerily.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, clasping my free hand over my mouth. I felt a little urine leak out of my bladder. I whirled around. The park was empty, but I could see headlights in the distance. The gunshots had not even made a difference. I guess in that part of town they were used to hearing shots ring out. My body didn’t feel like my own. I wasn’t cool at all. I broke and ran straight back to the car. I couldn’t believe how lucky I had been that Scotty didn’t have anyone hiding in the back of that Tahoe. I would think a thug like Scotty would have dudes posted up around our meeting place just in case I decided to do just what I did. I kept shaking my head, thinking he was really stupid.
Although I went there with intentions of killing him, I was not prepared for the reality—the smell of the blood, the look in his eyes, the feeling of shooting the gun had all caught me off guard. I guess I wasn’t as ruthless as he was since he had strangled my fucking sister. When I reached the car, I yanked the door open and slid into the driver’s seat. My chest heaved up and down like somebody was using a pump on my ass. My hands were shaking so badly that trying to reach for the steering wheel was difficult. I could not pull out of the spot. I looked down and saw Scotty’s blood all over the front of my shirt. I closed my eyes tightly. “Oh God!” I gagged. I could feel vomit creeping up my esophagus. I frantically opened the car door and threw up on the ground. My stomach churned like crazy. That happened over and over for a good five minutes. I was a fucking mess, but I knew I had to get the fuck out of there. I was still shaking so badly when I pulled out that I could hardly control the steering wheel. The car swung all over the road until I settled down. I had to pull over at least three times before I got myself together enough to drive a safe distance. The smell of Scotty’s blood was not going to make my drive easy. “Pull yourself together, Melody. Pull yourself together,” I chanted, giving myself a much-needed pep talk. I needed to get to some place where I could wash up and change.
I also knew that I needed to get out of Tidewater because everyone there knew me. I would have never pictured my life ending up like this. I was the wife of a fucking gentleman. How could this happen to me? All sorts of thoughts trampled through my mind. “Shit!” I cursed when I looked down at the gas gauge. I only had enough gas to get me to Richmond, Virginia. I quickly decided that Richmond was far enough away from Tidewater. It would have to fucking do. I drove straight to Richmond, where I found a Marriott Residence.
When I rushed up to the front desk, the clerk eyed me up and down suspiciously. I asked if I could just pay cash for the room and told the clerk I had misplaced my identification and that I had had a really rough night. She was hesitant, and it was not until I slipped her an extra hundred dollars for herself that she said she could bend the rules. As she found something for me, she kept looking at my clothes and asking me if I was okay. I gave her some cockamamie story about having nosebleeds since I was kid, blah, blah, blah.
When she slid the room key toward me, she leaned over and whispered, “I used to be in a domestic violence situation. There are a lot of places that can help you get away once and for all.”
At first I started to tell her ass off but decided it was good that she had taken it upon herself to make up a story for me. So I just lowered my eyes like I was admitting she was right. “Thank you for that. I needed to hear it. Sometimes we believe we are the only ones going through it when it happens,” I fabricated, flashing a weak smile.
“I know. But you are not alone, girlfriend,” the clerk said, smiling supportively. I shook my head and rushed toward the elevators. That was a close call too. Those hotel clerks could blow the cover on the most well-thought-out crimes. All it took was one call of a suspicious person asking to check in without identification or a credit card. Whew. I was really glad that in that part of Richmond, money talked and bullshit walked.
Once I got into the room, I had a breakdown. Before the door could fully close, I began peeling out of the bloody clothes. I rushed into the bathroom and leaned over the sink. I splashed water on my face. I glanced in the mirror and realized how bad I looked from all of the crying I had been doing. No wonder the clerk thought I was a domestic violence victim. I put the clothes into the sink and ran cold water on them. I didn’t have anything else with me, and I knew I would have to leave. Although the blood wouldn’t come out completely, at least I wouldn’t have to deal with the smell of it. I sat in a burning hot shower for hours, scrubbing myself to try to remove Scotty’s blood, which had seeped into the skin on my arms and the tops of my feet.
As I let the hot water run over me, I kept seeing Scotty’s bulging eyes staring up at me as the life drained out of his body. I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to get the images out of my head. When I finally got out of the water, I paced the room for what seemed like hours. I paced until my legs damn near gave out. Finally, I collapsed onto the bed. I had to think of my next move. I needed to get back to the mailbox I had opened. My mind raced the entire night. I turned on the television, and there was nothing but bad news on or shows that were blood, guts, and gore. I couldn’t stand it, so I turned the television off.
Each time I closed my eyes and tried to get even an hour of sleep, I would see the faces of the dead. It was too much. My brain was fried. Needless to say, I did not sleep a wink that night. The dead bodies were piling up: Richard, Christina, Paulette, and now Scotty. I couldn’t help but feel like I was a fucking black widow or a bad omen. I lay still with my arm across my eyes, thinking everybody was dead now because I wanted to be rich. Don’t get me wrong, I had planned some of it out. I thought I was entitled to everything that had come to me. I didn’t feel sorry about Richard and his bitch being dead. I mean, the way he had treated me, there was no other type of punishment that would’ve been more fitting. They definitely got what was coming to them. That fucking Scotty . . . forget it. I definitely didn’t give a fuck that his murderous ass was dead. I started to cry when my mind got to Paulette. She was the one person who was completely innocent in all of this. There was no fucking way on earth that Paulette should have ever suffered that fate. That was probably the only thing I would take back about the entire situation.
10<
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Two days later, I finally pulled myself together enough to leave Richmond. I returned to Tidewater. I couldn’t stand to just leave and not see to it that Paulette had a proper burial. It took everything inside of me to go back. Especially to my mother’s house. I knocked on her door tentatively. I waited a few minutes and she didn’t answer. Just as I headed down my mother’s porch steps, I heard the door open behind me. I stopped dead in my tracks. My heartbeat sped up and a cold sweat broke out all over my body.
“Melody?” my mother said, more like a question than a statement.
I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. I plastered a fake smile onto my face and turned around. “Hi, Diane. I . . . I . . . just came by because . . . ,” I stammered.
“I know why you came. I mean, she was your baby sister,” my mother said sadly.
I was glad she filled in that blank, because my mind had gone completely numb at the sight of her. I hadn’t seen my mother in years. I wasn’t at all prepared for how she looked standing there. I took the sight of her all in. She looked old now, frail and helpless. She held a cane and leaned all of her weight on it like it was keeping her up. She looked so vulnerable. Nothing like the fire-breathing dragon I was used to as a kid. It was crazy to me how time could change things and people. Still, as much as I tried at that moment, I couldn’t even find an ounce of sympathy for her. I immediately regretted coming to her house. I wanted so badly to turn and run, but it was too late. She was already expecting me to come inside and make nice with her. I sighed loudly.
“Come on in. I’m just here sorting out what I’m gonna do to bury my baby,” my mother rasped.
I could tell she had lost that deep, booming voice I was used to. She had probably screamed and cried so loud when she’d found out about Paulette that her voice went hoarse. I slowly went back up the steps. Hearing her refer to Paulette as her baby would have probably torn me up at one time, but I was used to it. I was also aware that in her condition, without Paulette, my mother would have no one. There was no way I could ever stick around and take care of her ailing ass.
