Deadly Satisfaction

by Trice Hickman

  Donetta hung up the phone feeling happy. Slowly, she rose from her bed and felt a twinge of pain. But that small discomfort couldn’t take away her joy. She walked over to her cream-colored vanity on the other side of the room and lit a lavender-scented candle. As she watched the flame grow, she thought about last night and this morning and how incredible it was that life could change in the blink of an eye. But then doubt set in.

  Every time Donetta thought she might be on the verge of something good, it had always turned bad, and that’s why she’d learned to accept hurt and expect disappointment. She’d come to believe that if something seemed too good to be true, it usually was. What was happening with Phillip was almost magical, and she wanted desperately to hold on to it. She wanted to believe in it and trust it. But she also knew it had the real possibility of ending, especially once she told him that she was trans.

  Donetta had been living life as a woman for many years well before her reassignment surgery, and she’d always been up front about who she was with the men she’d dated. She knew that first and foremost it was a matter of honesty, and she didn’t want anyone to feel as if they’d been deceived. Most of the men she’d dated had known from the beginning that she was trans, as she’d been introduced to them by friends, or she’d met them online through LBGT forums. But there were instances when she’d met men who didn’t know her background, and that had always been tricky.

  In those cases, Donetta wanted the man to get to know her for who she was before she told them her full story. But she never let the truth linger beyond the first date. Even though none of her relationships had ultimately lasted, most of the men she’d met had continued to see her once she’d told them she was a trans woman. They’d accepted her for who she was, inside and out, and some had even been intrigued. There had only been a few who’d taken it badly, but those few situations had been disastrous. That was how Donetta learned the valuable lesson about how to break the news—never in person. The risk of danger in doing so was much too great.

  Donetta had learned from talking with other trans women, and from her own personal experiences, that it could not only be dangerous, but sometimes it could be fatal, to tell a man you’d just met—face-to-face—that you were trans.

  The incidence of hate crimes against trans people, especially trans women of color, was higher than that in any other minority group, and with the number of black trans women being killed skyrocketing over the last few years, Donetta was extra-cautious. She’d been the victim of violence several times in her life, and on a few of the occasions she’d gotten the better of the men who’d mistaken her slender frame for weakness. But ever since she’d begun her steady regimen of estrogen and anti-androgen drugs a few years ago, her bravado had softened, her physical strength had decreased, and she knew that put her more at risk if she ever found herself in a compromising situation again.

  Last night, when she’d been getting dressed to go out with Phillip, she’d decided that if things went well she would tell him the next day. But in her wildest dreams she’d never thought she’d wake up lying beside him the next morning. Now she was in a quandary about what to do. Donetta looked at her reflection in the vanity mirror. “I already like him so much . . . How am I going to tell him?” Suddenly, her bright, airy mood turned dark and sullen. She rose from her fur-lined vanity stool, walked over to the window, and looked out her blinds. The dark clouds hinted that rain was on its way. “Just my luck.”

  She was about to go into the kitchen to heat her breakfast in the microwave when her phone rang. When she looked at the screen, she was surprised to see Shartell’s number appear. She’d just done the nosy, worrisome woman’s hair yesterday, and she wondered what Shartell wanted now. “What do you want, Shartell?” she asked.

  “Well, good afternoon to you, too, Donetta.”

  “Uh-huh. Why’re you calling me?”

  “Damn, must you always be so rude? I thought after your hot date last night, you’d be on top of the world this morning.”

  Donetta froze where she was standing in front of the window. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Awww, don’t play coy with me. You should want to spread this good news all over town. There’s nothing wrong with gettin’ a little lovin’ for the holidays.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And furthermore, why’re you calling me, trying to get in my business?”

  “Girl, I’m happy for you, I just wanted to call and congratulate you, that’s all.”

  Donetta knew she needed to proceed with caution. She’d always had a love-hate relationship with Shartell, going back to the days when Shartell used to work at Heavenly Hair Salon with her and Geneva. Even though Donetta detested that Shartell was always into everyone’s business, she respected the fact that the woman’s information was always accurate and 100 percent true, which made it gossip rather than rumor. If Shartell opened her mouth to spread some news, you could bank on it being the truth. But what Donetta found troubling, and why she took issue with Shartell, was the way Shartell went about getting her information. Donetta was sure that whatever methods Shartell used, they had to be underhanded, because no one would willingly divulge the type of dirt that she had been able to uncover.

  “I’m not playing your little game,” Donetta said. “I’ve known you long enough to know that you’re tryin’ to get in my business for a reason. So before we fall out, you need to tell me what the hell’s going on. And I promise you, if you lie to me, not only will I never do your hair, ever again, I’ll personally come to your house—’cause I know where you live—and beat your ass!”

  Shartell huffed. “Oh, stop it with the threats. You’re always tryin’ to break bad.”

  “Because I have to protect myself. Now, tell me why you’re in my business.”

  “Okay, okay.” Shartell let out a sigh. “You know that article I was telling y’all about yesterday at the salon . . . about finding love during the holidays? Well, I thought it would be really cool to feature some diverse stories about love. I know for a fact that you haven’t dated in a while, but now that you’re back in the game, I thought . . .”

  “Who says I’m back in the game? Where’s all this coming from?” Donetta’s heart started beating fast. What if Phillip wasn’t the sweet, caring, upstanding man she’d thought he was? What if he was really a low-life gigolo who went around romancing women and somehow Shartell knew him? All these thoughts sprinted through Donetta’s mind and made her head hurt again. “Tell me the truth, Shartell. I’ve always been straight-up with you, and now I need you to be straight-up with me. What makes you think I’m seeing anyone?”

  “Because you were with him at the Roosevelt Hotel last night.”

  Damn! Donetta shook her head and bit down on her bottom lip. She didn’t remember seeing Shartell at the Roosevelt last night. As a matter of fact, she was almost positive that Shartell couldn’t have been there. Donetta had paid special attention, taking in every square inch of the beautiful scenery around her, and although Shartell might be a major sleuth, she was a hefty-sized woman who always dressed in blindingly bright colors, so there would’ve been no way she could have gone unseen. Plus, Donetta knew Shartell’s MO, and she could tell by the way Shartell was talking that she was fishing for information. Otherwise she would have led off by mentioning how handsome Phillip was. Again, Donetta proceeded with caution. “Were you in the hotel last night?”

  Shartell hesitated, and Donetta knew she’d been right. Shartell hadn’t been there. “I asked you a question,” Donetta said, “and I expect you to answer it.”

  “Well, not exactly.” There was a long pause. Donetta refused to say another word, so Shartell spoke up. “I was downtown late last night because I had to pick my aunt up from the train station, and on my way I saw you walking into the hotel all dressed up. It was a great outfit, by the way. Loved the zebra-print jacket.”

  “I could’ve been going there for any number of reasons. What makes you think I w
as there with anyone?”

  “I can’t reveal my sources.”

  Right then Donetta knew it had to have been a member of the hotel staff. Entertainment reporters were known for having inside contacts at hotels, restaurants, and retail stores, who fed them information about customers for a price, and Donetta was sure that was the case with Shartell. “You’re really low, you know that?”

  “Donetta, I’ve done nothing wrong. As a matter of fact, I’m doing you a big favor because I’m coming to the source first, rather than just going ahead and printing the information in my article.”

  “You’re not doing me any favors, and you know it.”

  “How can you say that? I’m on the phone trying to talk to you about it, aren’t I?”

  “Only because your hotel contact obviously couldn’t give you the accurate information you need. I know how you operate, Shartell. You probably called them, described me, and then asked them who I was with, and when they couldn’t give you a name, that’s when you decided to call me.”

  Donetta was thankful that Phillip had pulled out two crisp hundred dollar bills to pay for their appetizer and drinks, rather than use his credit card; otherwise his name would end up in Shartell’s online column. Donetta knew that the way gossip spread so fast, Phillip might find out things about her before she had a chance to tell him.

  “Whether you believe me or not,” Shartell said, “I’m trying to do the right thing by you.”

  “The right thing would be to forget about including me in anything that has to do with that article.”

  “Think about how much inspiration your story would give to trans people who’re trying to find love. Did you know that the word transgender has been trending in the top ten on Twitter for a month? The exposure will be phenomenal . . . I mean, for helping people . . . you know?”

  Donetta thought her head would pop off. She was through-the-roof mad, and she had to take a deep breath to calm herself. “Shartell, I want you to listen very carefully to what I’m getting ready to say.”

  “Um, okay . . .”

  “I’ve spent my entire life living in the shadow of happiness. You have no idea how hard just doing simple things like going on a date has been for me. You don’t know what it’s like to live with the fear that someone might beat you up, rape you, or even kill you because of who you are. I’ve been beaten and I’ve been raped, but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna allow you to put my life in jeopardy.”

  “Donetta, I would never do anything to put you or anyone else’s safety at risk.”

  “That’s not true. You have no idea what kind of consequences your actions have caused to the people you’ve hurt over the years by spreading gossip. What might seem like nothing to you could mean the difference between life and death for someone else.”

  “You know me, and you know I would never do anything to harm anyone.”

  “The old Shartell wouldn’t have. Back in the day, when you were just the town busybody with a bad perm, at least you had a conscience. But the new Shartell, who writes sensationalized articles and has a six-figure book deal, doesn’t give a damn about anyone but herself. I’ve seen the change in you.” Donetta took another deep breath and swallowed hard. “If you have a shred of decency left in your body, you’ll finish that article today, and when I go online to read it tomorrow, my name won’t be anywhere in it.”

  Donetta hit the End button on her phone, looked out the window, and watched fluffy snowflakes begin to fall as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Chapter 21

  GENEVA

  If anyone had told Geneva at the beginning of the week that her Thanksgiving Eve would be spent doing anything other than enjoying her family and cooking food in preparation for their big holiday feast, she wouldn’t have believed it. But as she rubbed her temples, feeling the beginnings of a colossal headache about to roar, a festive celebration was the last thing on her mind. It had been four hours since she and Samuel had put Joe out of their house, turning what should have been a time of family love and celebration into a flood of flared tempers and heated emotions. The family was just beginning to settle down from the chaos that had taken place, but the atmosphere was still tense.

  Sarah was upstairs in bed, sleeping off the Valium she’d had to take to help calm her nerves. Herbert had gone to the driving range down the street from Geneva and Samuel’s subdivision so he could hit some balls and blow off steam. Samuel had just taken two Tylenol that Geneva had given him and reapplied a bag of frozen peas to his knuckles to help with the swelling from where he’d punched his brother in the jaw. And Geneva was outside, reclined on a lounge chair on their scenic back patio, wrapped up in two thick blankets, as she watched the flames dance inside the Tuscan-style brick firepit in front of her. The only person in the Owens household who was as happy as could be was little Gabrielle, who was oblivious to the adult commotion around her. She’d devoured her lunch and then fallen asleep with a satisfied tummy and a smile on her face.

  Ever since yesterday it seemed to Geneva that nothing had gone right. First the interview with Vivana, then her bad dream about Johnny’s killer, and now the revelation that her brother-in-law had been the major cause of the pain and scrutiny she’d suffered after Johnny’s death. Geneva shook her head in disgust as she thought about the story Samuel had told her. “Now I know why Samuel didn’t want that deceitful lowlife in our house or our lives,” she said to herself.

  Throughout the investigation of Johnny’s murder, up to the point when Vivana had been indicted for the crime, the authorities had hounded Geneva and Samuel. The two had topped the list of prime suspects, and their every move had become a matter of interest to the authorities. The level of scrutiny around them had gotten so intense that Geneva and Samuel had suspected they were under surveillance. The police had known their schedules like clockwork, even when Geneva and Samuel would change up their routine. Neither of them could go anywhere without seeing squad cars or plainclothes detectives parked in dark sedans nearby. One of the detectives working the case had even shown up at restaurants on two separate occasions when Samuel had taken Geneva out to dinner.

  As it turned out, Geneva and Samuel had been right; they had indeed been under surveillance. Their personal struggles, daily schedules, events they planned to attend, and intimate conversations had all been leaked by Joe, who sold the privileged information to none other than Shartell Brown, who then passed the details along to the police.

  Shartell had met Joe in passing when he’d come down to visit Samuel a few days after Johnny’s murder. Joe had been in Starbucks waiting for his coffee when Shartell walked in. At the time, Shartell hadn’t risen to the notoriety she now enjoyed. Back then she’d simply been known as the town gossip, and she’d made it her business to buddy up to as many people as she could so she’d always be in the know. When she saw Joe’s unfamiliar face, she’d immediately known he was new in town, so she struck up a casual conversation with him. She asked him where he was from, noting that he didn’t have a Southern accent. Joe told her that he’d been in Birmingham a few days before for a business convention, and that he’d decided to drive to Amber to visit his brother.

  Once Shartell found out that the stranger’s brother was none other than Samuel Owens, a light had sparked in her eyes. Shartell was the type of person who could smell a conniving schemer a mile away, and Joe had been oozing with the scent. She knew she could use Joe’s greed to advance her own ambition.

  Shartell told Joe that she was a local reporter, which was almost true, seeing that she was always asking questions, gathering information, and telling stories. She’d said she was working with authorities on the Mayfield murder investigation by providing them with inside information. She told Joe that if he gave her information about Samuel and Geneva, she would make it financially worth his while and his name would never be mentioned. The only catch was that he could never mention her name either. That had been fine with Joe, because he didn’t want any dirt to be traced back to him.<
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  Shartell had been so eager to enlist Joe’s help that she’d reached into the large leather attaché draped over her shoulder and pulled out a confidentiality agreement right there on the spot. “Anonymity and confidentiality are crucial in my line of work,” she’d told him, “and I’m always prepared in case I run into a juicy story.” They walked next door to the UPS Store and had a notary public witness, stamp, and sign the agreement, sealing their deal.

  Joe had made a pretty penny feeding Shartell the details of his weekly phone conversations with his brother. Time rolled on, and everything was good—until the day after Vivana was indicted. Samuel and Geneva were no longer news, and Samuel’s usefulness had come to an end, along with the brotherly phone calls from Joe.

  Samuel didn’t find out what Joe had been up to until a month after Gabrielle had been born. He and Geneva had planned a big party to celebrate the birth of their daughter. They’d invited their close friends and family members, and at the urging of Samuel’s parents—who’d purchased Joe’s airline ticket—Joe had come to town for the festivities.

  Geneva shook her head when she thought about that weekend. She remembered watching Joe and Shartell exchange glances during the party. She’d even caught them huddled in deep conversation at the edge of her flower garden beyond the patio. She’d thought they might be trying to hook up, but then Shartell abruptly stormed off, leaving Joe standing outside alone. Geneva had simply thought that it was a case of Joe being Joe, and that his abrasive personality had turned Shartell off. Little did she know at the time that her assumption was only half-right.

  “I thought they were trying to hook up, too,” Samuel had told Geneva a few hours ago when he’d broken the news to her. “I’d heard voices coming from the family room, which I’d thought was odd because everyone had been in the kitchen and living room. Anyway, I went to see who was in there and it was Shartell and Joe. They didn’t see or hear me when I cracked the door, and that’s when I heard them arguing in whispered tones. Joe told her that she still owed him money and he threatened to sue her. He told her that without the information he’d given her about you and me during Johnny’s murder investigation, she wouldn’t have been able to assist the police, which helped her become well-known and land her the job with Entertainment Scoop. He wanted a piece of the action. That’s when Shartell reminded him about the agreement they’d signed, and she told him that if he opened his mouth about anything she’d make sure he ended up in jail for defamation and breach of contract.”