Celeste had dropped the telephone on the floor and was rocking back and forth on the bed crying loudly. “No, Jesus, no. Not Portia. Please, God. Don’t take my sister from me.”
Anthony turned on the light in the bedroom and saw Celeste sitting up on the bed. He saw her rocking and moaning. “What happened? Who was that on the phone?”
Celeste threw the covers from her body and hurried to the closet. “That was Ginger. She’s at the hospital. She said Portia is dead.”
Anthony’s eyes grew wide. “What?”
“Portia is dead!” Celeste yelled. “I gotta get to the hospital.” Crying, she raised her nightgown over her head and slipped into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
Anthony couldn’t believe what Celeste had just said to him. Her words overruled the pain in his toe. “What do you mean she’s dead? What did Ginger say?”
Celeste slipped into a pair of flat mules and ran past Anthony and out of the bedroom. “Come on, Tony. Let’s go. Let’s go!”
Anthony was dressed in pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. His attire would have to do because he didn’t have time to change. He slipped into his house slippers and chased Celeste out of the bedroom. He grabbed his keys from the cocktail table. They both hurried out of the front door.
Anthony started the engine. “Put your seat belt on,” he said to Celeste. He fastened his own seat belt and sped away from the curb.
“Oh, my God. Tony, please get there quick.”
“Which hospital?”
“Rush-Presbyterian.”
Anthony sped toward the Eisenhower Expressway. “What did Ginger say?”
Celeste reached into the glove box for a Kleenex tissue and blew her runny nose. “The only thing I heard was that Portia was at the hospital and she was dead. I dropped the phone and started screaming.”
“Ginger didn’t say how or why or what happened to Portia?”
Celeste became irritated. Anthony was asking way too many questions. Questions that Celeste didn’t have any answers to. “No, Tony. Ginger was hollering on the phone. I could barely understand her at all. The only words I could comprehend were Portia is dead.” Celeste placed her face in her hands and cried openly. “Oh, my God. How could this happen?”
* * *
Ginger was already in the waiting area of the emergency room at Rush-Presbyterian hospital, on the west side of Chicago, when she saw Anthony and Celeste rush in and head straight to the nurses’ station.
“Celeste,” Ginger called out and stood from her chair.
Celeste saw Ginger and ran into her arms. They held on to each other and cried. Anthony walked over and put his arms around both of them. “Why don’t you two come and sit down?”
Celeste didn’t want to sit. She let go of Ginger and looked at her. “What happened?”
Ginger’s eyes were puffy and red. Her hands were shaking as she tried her best to answer Celeste. “I got a call from the woman who lives in the unit next to Portia. She said she heard yelling and screaming coming from Portia’s apartment and called the police. When the police got there, Portia’s front door was ajar and the security chain had been broken. They found her lying unconscious on her bed. She had been beaten.”
Celeste’s eyes grew wide. She let out a shrill sound and placed her hand on her heart. “Oh, my God. Who would do such a thing to Portia? Could it have been a robbery gone wrong?”
Ginger shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Her neighbor said she didn’t see anyone arrive at or leave Portia’s apartment.”
“Who is the neighbor and how did she know to contact you?” Anthony asked Ginger.
“Her name is Josephine something. I can’t remember what she said her last name was. Anyway, she said since she and Portia were two women living alone, they should give each other the phone numbers of their next of kin just in case something happened to either one of them.” Ginger looked at Celeste. “Portia had given Josephine your telephone number, too. When Josephine contacted me she said that she was going to call you next but I told her that I would call you myself.”
Celeste’s mind went back to Ginger’s telephone call. “You said that Portia was dead.”
“I said she might be dead. Josephine told me that Portia wasn’t breathing when the paramedics carried her out of the apartment. I’ve asked the nurse at the desk what was going on with Portia and she told me the doctor will come out and speak with me as soon as he can.”
“Ginger, why isn’t Ron here with you?” Anthony asked. At a time like that Anthony felt that a man should be with his woman. Ronald knew that Ginger, Celeste, and Portia were best friends. Celeste and Anthony were going through a rough patch but there was no way on God’s green earth that he would let Celeste deal with Portia’s trauma alone. And furthermore it was the middle of the night. Anthony felt that Ronald should have been by Ginger’s side for her safety. Anthony couldn’t fathom Celeste leaving the house alone at that hour.
Ginger shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know where that fool is. He wasn’t home when I left. I’ve called his cell phone three times.”
Anthony shook his head from side to side. He and Ronald were not friends. He tolerated Ronald for Ginger’s sake. But when Celeste had shared that Ronald had beat Ginger because she let the gas hand fall below the half-full line without filling the tank up, Anthony decided that it would be in Ronald’s best interest that they stay as far apart as possible. Anthony did wonder, though, where Ronald could be at that hour. “He should be right here with you, Ginger. What man doesn’t return his woman’s calls? For all Ron knows, it could be you laying up in the emergency room.”
Ginger was embarrassed that Ronald wasn’t there to comfort her the way Anthony was supporting Celeste. She was even more embarrassed that her best friend’s husband had noticed and commented on her missing so-called boyfriend.
Celeste was taken aback by Anthony’s forwardness about Ronald. She knew that Anthony didn’t care for Ronald but Anthony had always encouraged Celeste to stay out of Ginger’s relationship. It threw Celeste for a loop when Anthony spoke to Ginger that way. “Okay, Tony, let’s all calm down. Now is not the time for this.”
Anthony had said his piece. He was done with the Ronald situation. He just hoped that Ginger would finally see that Ronald was a loser. Anthony wanted Ginger to understand that if her boyfriend couldn’t be by her side while her best friend fought for her life, she didn’t need him. Anthony went and sat down in a chair.
Ginger looked into Celeste’s eyes. She had been missing her and Portia for a month. “I’m sorry for what I said to you and Portia in my living room last month.”
Celeste pulled Ginger into her arms and squeezed tight. “I’m sorry too. We all said things that we shouldn’t have.”
“I missed y’all so much,” Ginger wiped the tears that were falling down her face.
“We’re together now and that’s all that matters. We need to pray for our sister.”
Ginger and Celeste were sitting and holding hands when the doctor came into the waiting room and approached them. “Are you the family of Portia Dunn?”
Anthony, Celeste, and Ginger all stood. “Yes,” Ginger answered nervously.
“Let’s sit down,” the doctor said, already making his way toward a chair.
When a doctor tells family members to sit down, it means bad news is coming. “We don’t wanna sit down,” Celeste stated. “Just tell us. How is Portia?”
Anthony saw the expression on the doctor’s face. He looked as though he didn’t have good news. Anthony came and stood in between Ginger and Celeste. He wrapped his arms around their waists for support.
The doctor looked at all of them. “She’s alive.”
The loudest sigh came from Ginger. “Thank God. Oh, thank God.”
Celeste fell into Anthony. “Thank you, Jesus.”
“Ms. Dunn was barely conscious when she arrived,” the doctor said. “But we brought her around.”
“Can you tell us what happened to her?” Ant
hony asked.
The doctor folded his arms across his chest and exhaled. “Well, she was severely beaten. Her right jawbone is fractured. Ms. Dunn’s entire face looks as though she was mauled. She was hemorrhaging behind her left eye duct but we managed to get that under control. By the looks of her, whoever did this wanted her dead.”
“Oh, my God,” Celeste cried out.
“I don’t understand it,” Ginger said. “Why did this happen to her?”
“Anything else, Doctor?” Anthony asked.
“Yes, there is one more thing I need to make all of you aware of.”
Ginger and Celeste braced themselves.
Celeste wiped her eyes. “What is it?”
“Ms. Dunn was sexually assaulted as well.”
“My Lord,” Anthony said out loud.
Celeste and Ginger grabbed each other and held on for dear life. They sobbed on each other’s shoulders.
“Can we see her?” Anthony asked.
“A police officer is interviewing Ms. Dunn now. She’s very weak but I’ll allow you to spend five minutes with her. She’s been sedated but, yes, you can see her.”
Anthony, Celeste, and Ginger thanked the doctor for his report. As soon as the doctor exited the waiting room a Chicago police officer walked in and stood in front of them. “Excuse me, I was told that you were the family of Portia Dunn.”
“Yes, we are,” Celeste said matter-of-factly.
“I’m Officer Dale Caridine. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
Ginger put her purse strap on her shoulder. “We were just on our way to see Portia.” She attempted to walk pass the officer.
Officer Caridine stepped in Ginger’s path. “It will only take a moment.” He retrieved a small notepad from his uniform shirt front pocket. “I tried speaking with Ms. Dunn but she’s still in shock and wasn’t very helpful.” He looked at Ginger. “What’s your name?”
Ginger rolled her eyes and exhaled loudly. She wasn’t in the mood to be interrogated. Her best friend needed her. “Ginger Brown.”
He jotted down Ginger’s name then looked up at her. “And how are you related to Ms. Dunn?”
“Celeste and I are Portia’s best friends.”
Officer Caridine looked from Ginger to Celeste then from Celeste to Ginger. “Best friends? So, you’re not related to her?”
“Not by blood, no,” Celeste offered. “Portia, Ginger, and I have been best friends since high school.”
“I see,” Officer Caridine commented then wrote in his notepad. He then looked back up at Celeste. “Are you Celeste?”
She nodded. “Yes. Celeste Harper.”
“What about Ms. Dunn’s family?”
“She has no family,” Ginger offered. “We’re her only family. Her parents are deceased and she has no siblings.”
“No grandparents, uncles, aunts, or cousins?”
“None that we’re aware of,” Celeste stated.
Officer Caridine looked at Anthony standing close to Celeste. “And your name is?”
“Anthony Harper. Celeste is my wife.”
Officer Caridine wrote Anthony’s name on his notepad then looked at all three of them. “Do any of you know of any enemies that Ms. Dunn may have? Anyone who may have a reason to want to hurt her?”
Try every married woman in Chicago, Ginger thought. “No.”
“I can’t think of anyone,” Celeste answered.
Officer Caridine looked at Anthony. “How about you?”
“I have absolutely no idea who would want to hurt Portia.” Anthony said.
Officer Caridine jotted down what each of them said. “Please, think hard. Have any of you witnessed her argue with anyone lately? Can you recall a conversation in which Ms. Dunn may have mentioned that someone was out to get her?”
The three of them answered together. “No.”
Officer Caridine didn’t have anything else to write into his logbook. He placed it in his coat pocket and gave each of them a business card. “If anything comes to mind that can help me find out who did this to your friend, please call the precinct and ask for me.”
When Officer Caridine left them alone Celeste said, “Let’s go see Portia.”
Anthony had to catch Celeste as her knees buckled when they walked into Portia’s hospital room. Somewhere behind the black and blue bruises, the swollen eye, blistered lip, and overall disfigured face was the pretty Portia they all knew.
The doctor had told Anthony, Celeste, and Ginger that Portia was sedated but her eyes were open. Tears ran from the creases of her eyes down to her ears. Ginger and Celeste stood on opposite sides of her bed and each of them held Portia’s hand.
“Oh, my God,” Ginger cried out. “I don’t even recognize her.”
Anthony stood at the foot of Portia’s hospital bed and wondered how a man could beat a woman that badly. Anthony couldn’t think of any reason, any excuse. There couldn’t be a logical explanation. He was angry.
A tear dripped from Ginger’s chin. She squeezed Portia’s hand. “How are you doing, honey?”
“I’m sorry for what I said to you,” Portia mumbled through swollen lips.
More tears dripped from Ginger’s chin. She, Portia, and Celeste hadn’t spoken a word to each other in weeks. Ginger felt bad that it took a situation like Portia’s attack to bring them back together. “That’s in the past.”
Portia turned her head in Celeste’s direction. “I said something that hurt you and I’m sorry. I love you so much.”
Through her tears, Celeste saw two Portias. “I’m sorry too. I love you back.” It took all the strength that Celeste had for her to get those words out of her mouth.
“Who did this to you?” Anthony asked Portia.
Portia closed her eyes as tears ran down the sides of her face. She didn’t answer Anthony’s question.
As far as Ginger knew, all of the men Portia dealt with were married but harmless. She’d never known Portia to have any drama with any of them. Ginger assumed that Portia’s attacker was a stranger. “Do you know the person?”
Portia sniffed and exhaled.
Celeste wiped Portia’s tears with the back of her hand. And since Portia hadn’t answered either Anthony’s or Ginger’s question, Celeste knew that Portia knew exactly who had beaten and raped her. “You do. Don’t you?”
Anthony came and stood next to Celeste. “Tell me.” His jaws were tight. Anthony thought of Ginger and Portia as his sisters. It was Anthony who they called whenever they had a flat tire. It was Anthony who Ginger called, before she met Ronald, when she thought an intruder was in her home. And it was Anthony’s threat that had sent an ex-stalker of Portia’s running for his life.
Portia slowly shook her head from side to side. “I can’t, Tony,” she cried out.
Ginger frowned at Portia. “Why not?”
“Because he’ll kill me,” Portia whispered then turned her head away from Anthony and Celeste.
Ginger understood Portia’s dilemma perfectly. She was in that exact situation before. She too had been trapped in the anger of a man that threatened to kill her if she spoke of his abuse toward her.
Anthony gently placed his hand on Portia’s chin and turned her face back toward him. “Tell me who did this to you.”
Portia tried to turn her face away but Anthony firmly kept his hand and her face in place. Portia saw a tear run down his face. When Portia thought about it, since she had met Anthony, he’d always been the big brother she never had. Over the years, it was Anthony who Portia had called when she needed someone to hang a ceiling fan or to assist with furniture delivery. And it was Anthony who Portia called when she couldn’t get her car started in the dead of winter. And now it was Anthony who stood by her hospital bed, late in the midnight hour, with tears in his eyes.
Portia looked at him and knew he deserved an answer. “Richard.”
“Richard?” Celeste and Ginger shrieked. They knew Richard very well. The times they’d been in his presence, Richard had
treated Portia with kindness and respect. He showered her with flowers, candy, gifts, and plenty of money.
In a split second Celeste was calling after Anthony as he abruptly left her side. He went back to the waiting room and dialed a number on his cellular phone.
Craig Hatch, a deacon at their church and a Chicago police officer, was cruising the south side of the city with his partner when he answered Anthony’s call. Anthony knew that Deacon Hatch worked the graveyard shift.
“What are you doing up at this hour?” he asked Anthony when he saw his name displayed on his caller ID.
Anthony told Officer Hatch why he was awake and where he was. Not only were Anthony and Craig brothers in Christ who served on the finance committee at their church, they often shot a game of pool together. And they were also teammates in a bowling league.
Before Portia had acquired a taste for married men she and Craig had dated. It was after their third date that Craig realized that Portia’s taste was too rich for his blood. Not only did she demand that Craig dress her from head to toe for each date, Portia required that he foot the bill even when she invited him out to eat. Craig’s common sense told him that if he didn’t want to become bankrupt before the age of thirty-five he needed to cut Portia loose.
“I’m all tapped out, beautiful,” Craig told Portia at dinner.
Portia just finished the last of her lobster platter. “You can’t hang, huh?”
Craig chuckled. “Nah. I can’t even front no more. I can’t afford you but I’ll tell you what. If you ever need me to shoot someone, call me. I’m your man.”
After making the call to Officer Hatch, Anthony went back to Portia’s hospital room and convinced her to tell him where Richard lived. No one, not even Celeste, could hold Anthony back once he had the information that he needed from Portia. He left quickly.
As soon as Anthony disappeared from their presence, Ginger looked at Celeste and said, “Richard is in trouble.”
* * *
Thirty minutes later Officer Hatch and his partner, with Anthony in the back seat of their cruiser, were headed toward Richard’s house. When they arrived, Officer Hatch instructed Anthony to stay seated in the police car.
Damsels in Distress Page 9
