Gia (Women of Privilege Book 1)

by Bridget Bundy

  “Sorry about that,” he says. “I take my dinners whenever I can. I’ve been real busy.”

  “We could have met another time,” I remark. I say it out of courtesy. I don’t really mean it. I want to know why Nick is a person of interest.

  “No, no, no, this is fine. Usually, I’m questioning people in their homes or in the station. This is a good change. The fresh air, the fountain, and all the good folks of Savannah.”

  Detective Parker doesn’t seem like a cop to me. He’s all relaxed, but he’s dressed professionally in a mustard colored button down collar shirt and dark pants. His tie is paisley. His suit jacket is folded neatly on the back of the bench. He has a grey patch on top of his jet black hair, and his beard is trimmed with strands of silver, giving him an almost middle-aged fatherly appeal. He’s not overweight, but he does have a little gut. Honestly, he looks very familiar, but I don’t remember where I’ve seen him before.

  “Isn’t this a beautiful park?” He looks around as if he made it himself. “Makes me feel like I’m part of history. What do you know about the German Memorial Fountain?”

  “Not much,” I reply with complete disinterest.

  “They didn’t teach you Georgia history in school?”

  “I took a class, but it didn’t stick.”

  He tilts his head sideways and says, “That’s a real shame. There are many things you can learn from history. Take this fountain, for instance.”

  “I’ve been out of school for a long time. I’m not here for that.”

  He’s surprised by my straightforwardness. “Very little patience, I see.” Detective Parker chuckles. “Well, I can’t expect my passions to rub off on others.”

  “Detective, what did you want?” I ask impatiently.

  “Okay,” he says as he shifts to face me. “You used to take care of Grace Moran?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know her son, Nicholas Moran?”

  “Yes.”

  “How often did he go over to her house? Was he ever there when you were providing care to his mother?”

  “Nick went every day, but I didn’t see him all the time. I was there every other day.”

  “The time that he was and you saw him, how did he treat her?”

  “He was mean to her.” I’m so nervous, but I try to look and sound confident.

  “Was he abusive at any time?”

  “I never saw him hit her, but he fussed at her the times I saw him over there.”

  “Did she ever mention to you that she was afraid of Nick?”

  “She didn’t say it, but you could tell she was. You really believe Nick killed his mother?”

  “He was the last one that was seen leaving her house on Sunday, June 4th.”

  “Well, Detective Parker, I’m not trying to be funny, but I’ve never known a black man to kill his mother.”

  “It has happened before. Anything and everything is possible when it comes to the mind of a killer. Tell me something, Gia. When was the last time you saw Ms. Moran?”

  “The Friday before,” I answer. “I made my normal visit, and when I was done, I went to see my next patient.”

  “And you didn’t see Nick at all while you were there? You didn’t speak to him that day or during the weekend after that?”

  “No, and to be real with you, I have no contact with Nick.”

  “How well do you know his wife?”

  “I do speak to Lauren. We call each other every night.”

  “She told you about any concerns she has with her husband?”

  “I’m sure you already know that Nick abuses her. She’s reported that to the police several times.”

  He nods with concern.

  “I don’t understand what makes this a murder, Detective Parker. I thought the fire was set accidently.”

  “No,” he answers. “It wasn’t. There’s proof all over that house that someone set that fire using gasoline, and I’m not giving up until I find out who did it.”

  “Good,” I reply with a nod. “So, are we done?”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to hear more about the history of the German Memorial Fountain?”

  “I’m quite sure.” I stand, and so does he.

  “Here is my card, Miss Briggs. If you think of anything, hear anything, give me call. That’s my cell.”

  “I got a card already, and I think this is the last time we’ll be talking.”

  “Before you go, I do have one more question.”

  I hold my breath with anticipation.

  “Why did you quit your job?”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Your employer, Mr. Hill, told me. He said that there were you and another nurse that took care of Miss Moran, but you were the only one that quit. How long have you been a nurse?”

  “Six years,” I reply.

  “I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of people die in your profession. Why quit now?”

  “It got to be too much,” I reply.

  He nods. Seems like he doesn’t believe me, but I might be reading him wrong.

  “Good luck with your investigation, Detective Parker.”

  “I don’t need luck, Miss Briggs. I’m going to find out who killed Ms. Moran.”

  I walk away. What did I learn from that guy? Nothing. It doesn’t matter to me, anyway. Hopefully, Nick will go to jail, and Lauren will be completely free and clear of him. She deserves to have another chance at life without him.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I stop by the store to buy a few groceries, poster boards, packing tape, and markers. I figure since there isn’t going to be a meeting for Ladies of Tudor Estates Society for another two weeks, I have to make do with the age old method of plastering poster boards on telephone poles and stop signs. I’ll put one up at the beginning of every street so that anyone coming in will see. I’m actually feeling excited about the party. I’ll be able to really meet the families and get to know them in my home instead of on unfamiliar ground.

  When I get home, I see another note taped to my front door. Joslyn Montgomery must be in the bushes or something. What is wrong with that woman, and why won’t she leave me alone? I get out of the car, snatch the note off the door, get into my ride again, toss the note in my purse, and park in the garage. I’ll read it whenever. I’m sure it’s some dumb shit about my blinds not being closed or something.

  It’s after six in the evening, and Anthony still isn’t back yet. Where the hell is he? There’s no way the banks are open this late. He must be at a cousin’s house. He has plenty of them on his father’s side of the family in Savannah, Garden City, and in South Carolina. And I don’t have his cell number. Snuck in his room last night, and I was too horny and crazy to think about stealing his cell number. I guess I’ll just have to wait for him. Hate doing that, but what choice do I have.

  After putting up the groceries, I put the posters on the counter. I write out the event on top, my address, time, and date in pink and yellow. I regret doing parts of it in pink because yellow is the chosen color for this neighborhood. I can’t change the first poster, but I do write the rest of them in yellow. Once I’m finished, I grab my packing tape and scissors before heading out of the house. Within thirty minutes, I’m done putting up the posters.

  When I return home, I see that Anthony still isn’t back. I call Lauren’s cell phone in hopes of getting his number. I have no idea why I haven’t tried to get it from her before. She doesn’t answer. I call the house number. I’m unsuccessful at reaching her on that line, as well. That’s good, actually. Lauren must be gone with the kids. I am so happy for her. I try Mac. She keeps in contact with him from time to time, but she doesn’t answer her phone, either.

  Well, since my attempts have resulted in nothing, my only choice is to wait on him. I take out the second phone from my purse and turn it on. I’m not expecting Hannah to have answered my messages, but to my surprise, she has. Her reply to all of them are real simple. HEIFER - CALL ME.

  No, s
he didn’t call me a cow. I dial her right up, and she answers right away.

  “Brooke,” she says in a very calm tone of voice.

  “What, bitch?”

  “Let me educate you on something, and I don’t want you to say a single word. Anthony Moran has been my husband for eleven years. I am the mother of his children. Do you hear me? Not you. I am. And if you think that your calls and your text messages are going to make me give him up, you are dead fuckin’ wrong.”

  “Bi-”

  “SHUT UP!” Hannah’s tone makes me swallow my words. “You’re all talk and bitch behind that phone. Come to my house and say all that shit to my face. I fuckin’ dare you. I promise the last thing you’ll remember is me beating your ass. Anytime you ready, I am right where we’ve been living for years. Bring it, bitch! Bring! It!”

  I hang up and turn off the phone.

  Okay, she’s crazy. Maybe, more so than I am, but I’m not going to stop my pursuit of Anthony. Even though my plan didn’t work, he has his luggage in my house and as long as he’s here, he’s mine.

  I must come up with a new plan. Trying to put Hannah down didn’t work. Harassing her got me nowhere, but I will keep sending the text messages. I won’t do the cold calls to the house phone or cell anymore. And as long as Hannah doesn’t figure out who I am, I’m good. I know what I’m going to do next. It’s my last resort.

  Chapter Eighteen

  It’s damn near nine in the evening, and Anthony still isn’t back. I’m standing in the kitchen, on point and ready, to fix dinner when he arrives. I’ve got the fish cleaned and spiced in the refrigerator. The can of green beans and rice are on the counter in front of me. That’s all he has to do is show up.

  Fifteen minutes go by, and no Anthony. Then thirty minutes. Forty-five minutes. I wonder if he got into an accident. Who am I kidding? That man isn’t in an accident. He’s with his family. That’s all I can think of.

  Finally, my cell phone rings. I’m thinking Anthony is calling, but the number belongs to Lauren. I forgot that he doesn’t have my number. It’s good that she’s calling, anyway. I can get his digits from her.

  “Hey, Lauren, wha-”

  “GIA! NICK! DON’T-”

  “Stay on the phone, Lauren. Are you at home?”

  She doesn’t answer. It sounds like she’s been hit. I thought she was gone already. Dear God, she’s still there! I grab my purse and run into the garage. Within minutes, I’m out and driving like a maniac.

  Lauren and Nick live on Liberty Parkway way on the other side of Savannah. I take the quickest route possible. The interstate is not backed up this time of night. That means I can floor it and pray I don’t get stopped by a cop. By the time I get to Staley Avenue, which leads directly to Liberty Parkway, I’m in pure one hundred percent panic mode. I just know that man has finally killed her. I pull up into their yard, stopping right on the grass. Nick’s voice can be heard all the way outside. He’s cussing and calling her all kinds of names. The neighbors are watching like their home is a stage in an arena.

  I get to the door and try the knob. It opens right up, and I walk into a mess. The kids are hiding in the kitchen. Their heads are peeking out from behind the wall. Nick and Lauren are in the living room. Her luggage is on top of the knocked over television set. Clothes are spread from one end of the room to the other. He has a bat in his hand, and she’s curled up on the sofa, using her arms to shield her body.

  “Lauren, are you okay?” I ask.

  “What the hell you doin’ here?” Nick faces me fully.

  My first and biggest mistake. I walked in this house without a gun or knife. If Nick wants to lay me out with that bat, I can’t stop him. But mistake or no, I’m not leaving.

  “Get the fuck out of my house!” He grips the bat harder.

  “I’m not leaving without Lauren.”

  “What?”

  “YOU HEARD WHAT I SAID!” I’m scared, but I’m not going to show him any fear.

  “You don’t think I’ll kill you?” He approaches me. I back away, not towards the door, but to the side of it. If I walk out onto the porch, he’ll shut the door and lock it. I can’t be shut out.

  I glance at Lauren and eyeball her to go get the kids. I want her to leave out the back since Nick’s attention is on me. She’s not understanding. She’s too scared to move.

  “I said to get out of my house,” he says through clenched teeth.

  “No,” I reply with a nervous calm.

  Nick charges at me, and I scream for Lauren to run out the back. I say it loud and as fast as I can. She gets up and runs into the kitchen. Nick grabs me by the throat as I try to duck around him, and he slams me against the wall. I can’t catch my breath, and I’m too weak to fight him off. He puts the thick end of the bat under my chin and pushes up. I’m shaking and hurting badly. My mind is racing. What can I do? Then I get an idea. I shove my knee right in his groin. Nick howls and falls to the floor. I end up on top of him. I get back on my feet quickly, and I run into the kitchen where Lauren is holding on to the kids.

  “Let’s go.” My voice is strained and hurting, but they can hear me.

  I push them out the back and rush them to the front of the house. Twice I fall, thinking that fucker is behind me, but I get back up each time. I make them all get in the back through the driver’s side back door. I hop in and take off, screeching tires and honking the horn. I have no idea why I’m blowing the damn thing. I guess I’m just scared. The kids are crying. Lauren is trying to comfort them. My only goal is to get them far away.

  The only time I slowdown is when I get to Highway 95N. The road doesn’t have much traffic, and from what I can tell, Nick is not following us. When I do stop, it’s not until I reach Hardeeville, South Carolina, twenty minutes away. There’s a hotel right off the highway, and I rent a room for the night.

  Lauren and I don’t have time to cry at the moment. We make the kids get a bath, and we put them to bed. The whole quiet process takes fifteen minutes. We watch the kids as they get comfortable and the sleep take them over. Lauren walks out of the room when she’s sure that they’ll rest okay. Tears are pooling in her eyes. I join her on the balcony. I hug her, and we cry.

  A few long minutes go by before she says, “I’m sorry, Gia. I’m so sorry to get you involved like this.”

  “Don’t ever apologize,” I reply. I push the hair from her face and grab her cheeks so she can look me in the eyes. “You did the right thing by calling me.”

  “He could have killed you. He would have. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if he hurt you.”

  “I’m here, Lauren. I’m still breathing.”

  She begins to sob once more, and I hug her. I just let her cry until she couldn’t.

  When she’s calm again, I ask her, “Why was Nick home? And I thought you were already gone.”

  “I guess he had the night off because of his mom’s funeral today. I didn’t even think about that when I was packing, Gia. I hid the luggage when he first came home, but he found them. He was looking for a shirt and saw the luggage had moved from the bottom of the closet. He opened it, saw my clothes, and he went off. I thought I was going to die for sure.”

  “Well, you’re not ever going back, Lauren, and that’s final.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that. Were you able to purchase the tickets?”

  “Done deal.”

  “Can you change it to Savannah? I think we can get out of there without him catching us. It won’t be too much trouble, will it?”

  “It’s no problem.”

  She closes her eyes in relief and then looks back into the room where her children are sleeping. “Purchase tickets to Cleveland, Ohio. That’s where my dad lives. He’s always wanted to see the kids, and the kids have been itching to see him.”

  “You got it.”

  “Gia, I can’t thank you enough. You saved my family.”

  “You’re welcome. Why don’t you go get a shower, and I’ll make the call.�
��

  She goes back inside and into the bathroom. I get on the internet on my phone and search for an airline. The first one that pops up is the one I go with. I book the first thing jetting out in the morning out of Savannah Hilton Head International Airport to Cleveland Hopkins International Airport. I set up a car service to pick her up once she arrives at her destination. Then I leave the hotel and look for the nearest ATM. I take out as much money as allowed, and I go back to the hotel.

  I stay there with Lauren and the kids for the rest of the night. Sleeping is not an option. I’m just too scared that fool will find my car. If he does, I’m calling the police. Nick is not going to lay his hands on them or threaten them again. He’s hurt them enough.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The next morning, I take them to breakfast. I tell the kids to order and eat whatever they want. I want their bellies full when they leave the state of Georgia for good. Afterwards, I withdraw more money and give Lauren every bit of it and the cash from last night. By the time, we reach the airport, they seemed to be in good cheer and excited to be leaving the hell they lived in for far too long.

  As we’re standing outside of the terminal, I can see that Lauren is afraid, but she’s eager to start over again. I’m happy for her. She has no idea how much it means to me to get her out of here and away from her madman husband.

  She looks down at the ground and says, “Gia, again, I’m sorry for last night.”

  “Stop apologizing, please,” I remark playfully.

  “I’ll pay you back. The money. The plane tickets.”

  “The only way you can pay me back is by never getting with Nick again.”

  “I won’t. Believe it, I won’t.”

  “Good. That’s what I like to hear. Give me a hug before you go.”

  We embrace one last time, and I watch as they enter the terminal. When they disappear and I feel comfortable enough that Nick won’t stop them, I get back into my car and drive off.