by Lolah Lace
“Well fuck you.”
“And I’m tired of you hitting me, smacking me and talking to me any way you want to. Fuck this shit!”
“Who the fuck do you think you talking to?” Marcus grabbed ahold of Keisha’s thin wrist.
“I’m not scared of you.” Keisha glared at Marcus square in the eye. There was a brief stare down, a time where he tried to figure out his next move. Marcus backed off by releasing Keisha’s wrist with a violent push.
“You light-skinned bitches always think you’re the shit.”
How many times had she heard him blame everything she said and did on her pale complexion? She was so tired of trying to act Blacker than the next Black person. She was mixed. She was born that way, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. In the moment, she decided to stop trying.
“Whatever.”
Marcus charged toward her and stopped inches from her face. This time, she didn’t flinch.
“You already hit me when you’re drunk, so you might as well start hitting me when you’re sober.”
“If you wouldn’t be acting like—”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s all my fault, right? Whatever. Get the fuck out!”
“Bitch you ain’t all that!”
Keisha wasn’t surprised. She had been a bitch, a slut, a hoe, a heifer, and so many other things. But this time she didn’t care, this time she placed her hands on her hips and stood firm in her inner conviction. This was over. She accepted that this relationship train had derailed.
“Yeah, right.” Her eyes shot to the ceiling. “I’m not all that, and you are half of that. Get out of my dorm. I’m so done with you.”
“Bitch, are you breaking up with me?”
“Yep.”
Marcus walked backward shaking his head. He moved toward the door with a disheartened look on his smooth face.
He paused as if to say something, but instead opened the door and exited, leaving it wide open behind him.
*****
Brittany got a good night’s sleep in her bed at home. She got a ride back to school the next afternoon from her stepmother. She arrived just in time to go straight to class and afterwards, she had plans to meet up with two of her friends.
Brittany sat in the college cafeteria at a plain table with the contents of her purse poured out in front of her. Seated beside her was her fashionable Korean friend, Mary Jane. Mary was wearing designer eyeglasses and sipping cappuccino. Opposite them was Joel, a lanky White male student. He was with them but looked like he didn’t belong at the cool kids’ table.
A police car with the sirens blaring sped past the glass-walled windows of the campus cafeteria. All the students turned to look out at the speeding police car.
“That’s like the fourth police car to go by since we sat down. I wonder what’s going on?” Brittany asked.
“Maybe some frat boys got out of hand.” Joel speculated.
“Could be,” Brittany said. They’re all a bunch of alcoholics to me.”
“Alcoholics, date rapists, and all around assholes.” Mary Jane added her biased rhetoric to the conversation.
“Stereotype much?” Joel countered just to play devil’s advocate. Deep down, he hated the entire Greek system.
“As if you care about those guys.” Mary Jane could see right through Joel.
“I guess because I don’t have the face of Nick Jonas, you’re stereotyping me as a smart nerd.”
“Joel you can’t sing. You don’t listen to popular music. I’m not sure how the words Nick and Jonas came from your mouth.” Both the young ladies laughed out loud.
“You guys think I’m a smart nerd?”
“A nerd, maybe.” Mary Jane pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Smart, never.”
Students at various tables gathered at the edge of the cafeteria to focus on the television.
“Hey, what’s happening on the tele?” Mary Jane mused.
The trio peered up at the television mounted on the wall far above their heads. On the TV screen, a well-dressed, middle-aged lady newscaster sat behind an anchor desk next to an older male newscaster.
“Just in, we have a breaking news story. A young woman has been found slain at Naperbrook Illinois University campus. For further details, we’re going live on the scene with Leah Hope. Leah, are there any new developments?”
Brittany and Mary Jane exchanged a quick glance before resuming their interest in the television. The TV displayed the dormitory parking lot. Someone had turned the volume on the TV all the way up. Britt watched the screen as Leah Hope stood in the parking lot. There was a small amount of background activity. A few Hinsdale and Oakbrook police officers were off in the distance. Just a bit to the left of Leah was the coroner’s van.
“Yes. There has not been an official statement made by the Hinsdale police department, but I spoke to an officer here on the scene that has confirmed that a college student has been slain at Adler Hall, the campus dormitory that is right behind me. There is no word on the actual cause of death, but it is my understanding that the young female student was found at approximately two o’clock today by another student. The victim’s identity has not yet been released pending notification of the family. Back to you in the studio.”
The screen switched back to the comfort of the news studio. “Thanks Leah. We will have more details as they become available. In other news, in Elk Grove Village, an unlicensed midwife is charged with involuntary manslaughter when she delivered a stillborn—
Some of the students rushed out of the cafeteria. The silence quickly turned to commotion. Mary Jane and Joel turned their attention toward Brittany.
“Oh my God, this is scary.” Mary Jane said.
“It’s probably a suicide.” Joel was quick to give what he believed to be a feasible explanation.
“They said slain.” Mary Jane added.
“Who do you think it is?” Joel asked Brittany.
“Just because she lives at Adler Hall doesn’t mean she knows everyone who lives there.”
A nearby cell phone rang before they could resume their conversation.
“It’s not me,” Joel said. “I left mine at the dorm charging this morning.”
Mary Jane unzipped her backpack and retrieved her cell. It rang again. She unlocked the screen and swiped before placing the phone to her ear. “Hello.”
Brittany addressed Joel. “Do you think I should go see what’s going on?”
“I guess so.” Joel shrugged. “They probably won’t let us inside your dorm. I’ll go with you if you want.”
Mary Jane talked into her cell. “Yes I saw it on the news, but I don’t know anything mom.”
Brittany tried to block out Mary Jane’s conversation. “Yeah I want you to go with me,” Brittany said to Joel. “This is so messed up. Someone has been murdered and I might know them.”
“Mom, why would you come and pick me up; it’s Monday, and I have class tomorrow?” Mary Jane groaned into her cell, frustrated.
Brittany thought about the students in her dormitory that she hadn’t seen today. “I didn’t see Karol Acon today.”
“She barely comes to class, but I did see her in the McDonald’s drive thru this morning,” Joel added.
Mary Jane was barely listening to her mother at that point. She decided to ignore her and ask Britt a question. “Hey, where’s Keisha? She wasn’t in Psych this morning.”
A weird dreary silence filled the table where they sat. Most of the students had cleared out after hearing the news report. Brittany remembered Keisha mentioning her exam in Psych. There was no way Keisha would miss class on the day of an exam.
The trio took notice of two female students as they rushed toward them. The duo had become the center of their attention.
“Mom, I’ll call you back.” Mary Jane muttered into the phone and ended her call.
The two female students approached their table. Their pale faces were red, swollen, and wet obviously from crying. One walked up with th
e second girl cautiously a few paces behind her. Brittany’s view of them switched to slow motion. Seeing the tears in her classmate’s eyes made hers begin to water. Brittany couldn’t remember their names, but they lived in Adler hall on the sixth floor.
One young girl’s tears ran down to her chin. The other held her hand over her mouth to mask the sounds of her despair. They both were looking down at Brittany.
“Britt.” The crying student mumbled.
“Who is it?” Brittany glanced over at her friends sitting at the table then back up at the girl. “Who is it!” Brittany screamed, hoping that her legs would compel her to stand.
“Keisha.”
Mary Jane’s cell phone slipped from her tiny hand and crashed to the floor.
“She’s dead.” The student delivering the bad news said. The girl covering her mouth burst into tears.
Brittany launched from her chair knocking it down on its side before pushing past the two girls. While running, she noticed everyone in the cafeteria staring at her. She bolted out one of the many glass doors.
After a few seconds, Mary Jane gathered her and Brittany’s belongings. She went after Brittany but didn’t know what she would say once she caught up to her.
Brittany’s designer cross trainers moved at a fast pace down the sidewalk, with a swift turn, her running feet vanished.
CHAPTER 16
The next day, Brittany’s running shoes reappeared on the pavement of a residential area. She breathed heavily as she jogged in place at a street corner. Beads of salty sweat trickled down her face and neck. Her sports tank and shorts were drenched with her sweat.
A car stopped at a stop sign, and the driver of the car waved for Brittany to cross in front of him. Brittany did just that. She ran like someone was chasing her, but the reality was she was running from her own thoughts—of guilt.
*****
There was the sound of something sizzling on the stove at the Ziewicke house. Brittany’s stepmother was standing at the stove preparing breakfast. Her stepson, Brian, was seated at the kitchen table. Patricia moved between the stove and the sink. She washed dishes and cooked at the same time.
“You should have gone with your sister.” Patricia turned to look at him.
“I don’t jog.” Brian shrugged.
“I don’t like her being out there alone with all the crazy lunatics running around.”
“I thought they were only killing Black people.” Brian sarcastically stated.
Patricia turned away from the stove to flash a repulsed look at him. “Don’t talk stupid. We just had that girl over here for dinner. Your sister feels guilty about not going home with her that night. So be nice to her. Her damn roommate died.”
“She was murdered.” Brian corrected.
“Well.”
“When are they going to catch this person?”
“How the hell would I know?”
“Did you talk to your cop friend?”
“No, not yet. But I will.”
“Britt will feel better once she hears something from the police.”
Patricia looked over at Brian and caught him gazing at her intently from behind. “Brian, what are you looking at?”
“You know what I’m looking at.”
“You’re smart mouth disgusts me.”
“I can look if I want. Stop being so paranoid.”
“Don’t try me. You must have forgot the last time you stepped out of line.”
Brian calmly sipped his orange juice from the glass on the table in front of him. “I didn’t forget. It was worth it.” Brian joked knowing full well Patricia didn’t think his words were remotely amusing.
“You need to stop talking crazy to me. You really need to grow up.”
“I have grown up. I’ve been trying to show you how much.” Brian abruptly stood. His chair screeched as it slid across the floor. The sound made Patricia turn to look at Brian. She flashed an evil glare; one he had seen too many times to count.
“You need to get out of my kitchen.”
Brittany walked into the room sweaty from her morning jog.
“I’m making breakfast. You hungry?” Patricia asked.
“Yeah I guess. I couldn’t sleep last night.”
“You need something to drink?” Patricia offered. She felt bad for her stepdaughter. She wanted to make this tragic situation as easy as she could for Brittany.
“Yeah, some water.”
Brian walked over to Patricia at the kitchen sink. He laid his empty glass down in the soapy dishwater. She was the only one that sometimes washed dishes by hand.
“I’ll get it.” Patricia went over to the refrigerator and opened the door. She grabbed a bottle of cold water from the bottom shelf. “Your father found an earring somewhere around here.” Patricia reached in her robe pocket. She held a half dollar sized, gold hoop earring up for Brittany to view.
“It’s not mine,” Brian added. Brittany and Patricia ignored Brian’s joke.
“Britt, I figured it’s yours.”
“No, it’s not mine. It’s Keisha’s. She must have lost it, when, she … was here.” The tears formed in the corners of Brittany’s eyes. Brian walked over to Britt and wrapped his arms around her. She began to weep as she laid her head on his shoulder.
With Brittany’s back to Patricia, Brian glared over at her with his smile.
*****
Keisha Evans was another murder victim that fell under Tami’s jurisdiction. She wondered how this affluent suburb had now become the hub of such brutality. Regardless of how she felt, Tami had a job to do. A job she took seriously. She had a suspect to question, so she put her head back in the game. She walked away from her desk at the police department and made her way to the interrogation room.
The lieutenant had faith in her. She couldn’t let him down. Her partner, JT, and Lt. Meyers collectively decided it would be best if she questioned their suspect first. They didn’t want him to tense up at the sight of a White man and an older Black man. They wanted complete cooperation, not flagrant hostility.
Tami took her seat at a small wooden table across from Marcus Dixon. She studied his police record. It contained one drunk and disorderly, no felonies, nothing that would give way to murder but stranger things have happened. Two murders right here in Hinsdale was at the top of the strange list.
For a few minutes she engaged him with small talk. She wanted to make him comfortable. She needed him to let his guard down. He was a tough nut to crack, but she was up for the challenge. She knew the tough type. She grew up around these kinds of guys.
“Marcus, we have a witness.”
“What? A witness to what?”
“Someone saw you Marcus; just tell your side of the story.”
“You ain’t got no witness to nothing cause I didn’t do it.”
“There was a student that saw you go into Keisha’s dorm room that night.”
“Bullshit.” He barked.
“Listen I know you didn’t plan to kill her. Maybe it was an accident. Bad things happen to good people.” Tami stood and casually walked over to Marcus’ side of the table. She leaned in and looked him dead in his eyes.
“Look, lady, I didn’t kill Keisha.”
“Bullshit!” Tami yelled in his ear. “I think you stabbed that girl fifteen times because you couldn’t stand the thought of her being with someone else. She dumped you, and you thought she had some nerve dumping you. You the man. You’re an Alpha dog. How dare she? You humiliated her at your little frat party. She got fed up and told you where to get off. But no one can tell you where to get off cause you’re ‘Mr. All That, big brother M-Dog.’ That’s your line name right? M-Dog?”
“Yeah so?”
“How long do you think it will take until your frat buddies start telling us everything?”
“There is nothing to tell.”
“I know you did it.” Tami slammed her fist on the table.
“I didn’t do it. I didn’t do a damn thing.”
> “Tell that to the judge and jury.” Tami smirked. “Keisha moved up here to be close to you. She loved you. But that through a monkey wrench in your little game. You couldn’t whore around like you used to because she would find out. So you decided to get rid of her so you could go back to being the real player you think you are.”
“Fuck you!” Marcus jumped up from his chair. He was face to face with Tami, but she didn’t flinch. She chuckled.
“You better sit your Black ass down in that chair! I’m not Keisha. I’m not afraid of you.” Tami’s eyes drilled into Marcus.
“Fuck you.” He muttered as he sat back down in his chair.
“You’re the one that’s fucked.” She placed one hand on the table in front of him and leaned in close. Prison ain’t like college, boy. I will let you think about that life sentence.”
Tami removed her hand from the table and left Marcus in the interrogation room alone. She wanted to scare him. She wanted to give him a chance to think about prison. She wanted to leave him alone with his thoughts. She hoped she had spooked him.
She went out to confer with her colleagues. They had been watching the entire interrogation on closed circuit TV. It was time to try something else.
Moments later, Detective Mike Crane decided to take a stab at interrogating Marcus. The Hinsdale and Oakbrook police forces were working jointly. The murders in the two communities seemed to be connected. Everyone knew Mike was a bit more experienced with this sort of thing. He had been a rookie cop on the mean streets of Chicago before he transferred to the burbs. Maybe he was just the person Marcus needed to coax him into a full confession.
Mike quietly paced around the room, while Marcus sat at the table. Marcus watched and waited, but it took ten minutes before Mike spoke.
“Hey there Marcus. How ya doing?”
“What’s this good cop, bad cop?” Marcus smarted.
“No. It’s more like, Black cop, White cop. So homeboy, you ready to confess?”
“Homeboy, right.” Marcus chuckled. “I’m not gonna confess to some shit I ain’t even do.”
“ ‘I’m not gonna confess to some shit I ain’t even do.’ ” Mike mimicked. “How eloquent. I’m sure your folks are pretty damn happy their college tuition money is going to waste. So homie, why’d you do it?” Mike taunted him with racial stereotypes.
