“I would in a heartbeat if it wasn’t for Damita. I can’t leave her here alone.”
Derrick’s look suddenly turned serious. “Carmella, you can’t watch over her forever.”
“I’d like to be here for her; at least for now.”
“In the meantime, I’ll have a little talk with Mr. Neal Westman and see where his head is.”
“Thanks, Derrick.”
“Anything for you. Just remember, if your girlfriend is pissed, it’s your fault.”
“I take full responsibility,” Carmella agreed.
Derrick kissed Carmella goodbye and left.
• • •
Once at work, Derrick decided he would find Neal and have a talk with him.
“I’ll be back in a few,” he said to his partner, Detective Palmer.
“Where are you going?” Palmer asked.
“I’ve got some business I need to take care of.”
Palmer looked at Derrick questioningly. “Police business?”
“It’s sort of police business.”
“I’ll ride with you,” Palmer offered.
Once in the car, Derrick felt he could speak more freely.
“Remember the guy I spoke to that was outside my girlfriend’s building?”
“Yeah, that Neal guy? He’s the husband of Carmella’s best friend, isn’t he? Is he hitting her again?”
“He hasn’t hit her lately. She’s been staying with Carmella. He calls her night and day. He showed up at her office high, so her company doesn’t allow him anywhere near the building.”
“Isn’t this guy like some rich hotshot?”
“Yeah, he is. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“From where I’m standing, he’s got it all. Why waste his time pursuing this one woman with all the other available women out there.? That must be some good stuff she’s got.”
“I didn’t know I was partnered with a Neanderthal,” Derrick said.
Derrick looked at his partner, Gerald Simpson. Despite the fact that Gerald had two black parents, he was so light, he was often mistaken for white. Derrick enjoyed seeing people’s reaction when they learned that he was indeed black and not white. It made for some interesting occurrences when they were on duty. Gerald was pretty-boy handsome and though he was physically fit, his body wasn’t necessarily the most muscular. His appeal was all in the face. He was charming as hell and good-looking and had an easy smile, even under the worst circumstances. All of this meant Gerald had a constant flow of women all too eager to bed him. Derrick often cautioned his partner that the life of a playboy would eventually get real old. That undoubtedly had not yet happened for Gerald. His pat response was always that in the meantime he was going to enjoy the ride.
“You can make fun of me all you want. I’m merely stating the obvious. They haven’t made the pussy I would chase after like that.”
“Well, good for you. I’m glad to hear it. But, you and I both know this isn’t about pussy. It’s about power and control. That’s exactly why I’m going to have a little talk with Mr. Westman. He needs to know who is really in control.”
Derrick and his partner first went to Neal’s apartment and when they didn’t find him there they went to his office. They got out of the car and went up to Neal’s office.
The detectives showed their badges to the receptionist when they arrived.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“Can you tell Neal Westman that Detectives Simpson and Palmer are here to see him?”
“I’ll let him know you’re here.”
Mr. Westman’s secretary came out to the reception area and brought them to Neal’s office.
“Denise, please don’t go to lunch until I’m done with my meeting,” Neal said to his secretary.
Derrick watched as Denise left the office. Just looking at her he could tell there was no love lost between her and her employer.
“Denise, shut my door,” Neal barked, before turning his attention to Derrick and his partner. “Is Damita okay?”
“She’s fine, Mr. Westman. She would be even better if you stopped harassing her,” Derrick responded.
Neal flashed Derrick a feigned look of surprise. “Harassing her? I’m not even living with her. My wife has left me to go live with your girlfriend. Strange, don’t you think? Tell me, Detective Simpson, you ever wonder if those two have more than a simple friendship going?”
“No, Westman, I never wonder about that. I’m here to tell you that you will leave Ms. Whitmore alone or you will have me to contend with.”
Suddenly Neal started clapping. “Bravo! Did you get that from a script somewhere? That was pretty good. You ever think about trading in your badge for a card from the Screen Actors Guild?”
Detective Palmer looked over at Derrick and laughed.
“Real funny fucking guy, huh, Simpson?”
“I’m glad to see I amuse you. Now, get the fuck out of my office! I can do whatever I want to do. She’s my wife. I would strongly suggest you and that whore girlfriend of yours stay out of our relationship.”
Neal’s last words were barely out of his mouth when Derrick reached out and dragged Neal over the top of his desk. He slammed him against the nearest wall and punched him several times.
When Palmer thought Neal had enough, he intervened. “Simpson, that’s enough, man.”
Both Derrick and Palmer expected Neal to immediately shout police brutality, loud enough for everyone to hear. Instead, he began laughing. He laughed hysterically, until both detectives had left his office.
“I’ll drive,” Palmer offered, once they were outside.
“Did you see his reaction? I hit him and he stood there laughing. He’s completely insane.”
“You’ve got that right.”
As soon as the detectives left, Neal picked up the phone. “I’ve got a job for you. This one I think you’ll enjoy. And Jeffrey, I want it done tonight.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
After a long day of work, Damita stopped by Wendy’s office to say goodnight.
“I’m heading out,” she said.
“Look at you, taking advantage of the perks of being a VP.”
“What perks? It’s nearly eight at night.”
“Like I said, you have to love those perks. Grunts like me, on the other hand, will be here until at least midnight.”
Damita looked at Wendy with a fake pout. “Poor baby; maybe I’ll take you out for a drink later this week, so you can drown your sorrows.”
Wendy waved her hand at Damita, shooing her out of the office. “You better. Now go home.”
Damita wanted to stop at a home furnishings store in Midtown to pick up a vase Carmella mentioned she liked, so she took the subway to Fifty-ninth Street. She was happy that the subways were running quickly, since the store closed at nine o’clock. Once she got out of the train she walked toward the First Avenue store and under an overpass. She glanced at her watch and it was only eight twenty-five. She was glad to see she had time. She thought she felt someone walking behind her. She quickened her pace to get out from under the overpass as quickly as possible. As soon as she had cleared the overpass and was about to cross the street, a van pulled up in front of her. The van door opened up and the person behind her shoved her toward the van. Two sets of hands grabbed her and pulled her inside. Damita put up a fight but there were too many of them. They were all wearing ski hats. Damita could see there were three men in the back of the van with her, including the one who had pushed her in. She tried to scream and fight, but one of them pulled out a gun and put it to her head.
Damita’s expression was one of fear and agony. “You make a sound, bitch, and I will blow your brains out,” he said.
He ripped her clothing from her and began touching her breasts and her stomach. Damita tried to struggle and fight again and he punched her in her stomach and face. Damita could feel her mouth filling up with blood and, for a moment, thought about her ribs and hoped they weren’t broken agai
n. One man held her arms above her head, while the other held her feet and the one holding the gun roughly ripped her panties off and brutally shoved his dick inside of her.
Damita cried, silently, afraid he might hit her again or even worse, make good on his threat of killing her. When he was done each of the other men took turns raping her as well. When they were done, she hoped they would simply let her go. They drove for a while before stopping the van. Her heart was beating wildly in anticipation of possibly being killed. Whoever was driving came around to where she was being held. He was also wearing a mask. He got in and looked her over, before pulling down his pants. He too held a gun. He bent over her, with both of his knees on either side of her head. He held the gun to her temple.
“If you bite me or do anything else I don’t like, your brains will end up scattered all over this van. Do you hear me?”
Damita nodded her head in agreement.
“Now suck it. You better make it good.”
The other men in the van laughed. He shoved himself inside of Damita’s mouth and from the position he was in Damita felt as though she might choke to death. She gagged and prayed for him to finish quickly. Finally he did. When he was done, he got off of her, wiped himself with his hands and smeared it on her face.
Damita was crying and he reached down and caressed her face. “Don’t cry, I’ll be back,” he said.
When he first spoke, Damita thought she recognized his voice, but now she was sure. This man was someone she knew.
One minute she was sitting in the van, wondering if this was the moment she was going to die, the next she was lying in a bed and a middle-aged black woman in a light blue uniform was telling her she was going to be okay. She tried to move, but her head was throbbing relentlessly.
“Lie still, you probably have a concussion. You have a pretty bad gash in your head.”
Damita frowned. “Where am I?”
“You’re at Jacobi Hospital.”
“Isn’t that in the Bronx?”
“Yes, it is. We’ve called your husband. He should be here soon.”
“You called my husband?”
“Yes. The police found your pocketbook. There was a card in your wallet that listed your husband as the person to call in case of emergency.”
Damita was surprised to see how distraught Neal was when he arrived.
“Baby, what happened? Who did this to you?”
Two young, white police officers were there, waiting to ask Damita some questions.
“Mr. Westman, when was the last time you spoke to your wife?”
“I spoke to her this morning.”
“Where does she work?”
“She works at the World Trade Center.”
“Do you have any idea what she was doing in the Bronx?”
“I have no idea at all. What happened?” Neal asked.
“The details are pretty fuzzy. Your wife was unconscious and naked when she was found. We believe she may have been attacked. We would like to question her now while the details are still fresh in her memory.”
“Fresh? She has a concussion. She’s not going to be able to remember much in this condition.”
“You’d be surprised how much someone can remember immediately after a crime is committed, even with a concussion.”
“Mrs. Westman. . .”
“Ms. Whitmore,” Damita said.
“Okay, Ms. Whitmore. Can you tell us what happened?”
Damita’s face appeared to be trying very hard to concentrate and remember. “They shoved me in the van and then drove me somewhere. They raped me!”
Damita started to cry.
“Do you remember anything about the van?” the officer asked.
“It was a light color, maybe white.”
“Did you see the license plate?”
“No. It was too fast.”
“What about afterwards?”
“I didn’t see anything.”
“You said they? How many were there?”
“There was the driver and three men in the back.”
“Did you recognize anyone?”
“They were wearing masks, but his voice—”
“You recognized someone’s voice?”
“Yes. I may have heard it before.”
Damita reached up to touch her head. She winced when her fingers found the spot where her head was injured.
“Are you okay? Should I get the doctor?” Neal asked.
“No, I’m fine.”
“You said the voice sounded familiar,” the officer continued.
Neal interrupted. “That’s enough. Can’t you see my wife is in pain? She’s got a concussion and she needs her rest.”
“Okay. We will need to talk to Ms. Whitmore again. We’ll stop by tomorrow.”
Once out of earshot, one of the officers spoke.
“Did you notice that her husband never reacted when I mentioned she was found naked and that she may have been attacked. Most husbands would be outraged at the thought of their wife being raped.”
“Maybe he was too upset or maybe it didn’t register what you meant by attacked,” the other officer offered.
“Sure, maybe. They both definitely need to be questioned again.”
“There’s always tomorrow,” his partner added.
All Damita wanted was to sleep and to forget. She was out again and Neal sat down in a chair next to her bed. His face was etched with concern and the nurse that was on duty when Damita arrived did her best to reassure him.
“She’ll be fine, Mr. Westman. She has a concussion and she’ll probably need to rest for a few days, but she may even be released tomorrow. They want to keep her overnight for observation. That’s customary when there’s a head injury. It’s so late. You can go home. I’m here all night. I’ll keep a close eye on her.”
“Can I stay a little longer?” he asked.
“Sure, you can. I hate to bother you, but you look so familiar. Have I seen you somewhere before?” the nurse asked.
“My company and I were featured in Black Enterprise magazine last year.”
“I knew you looked familiar!” she responded excitedly.
Five minutes later, the nurse was back with a pillow, blanket and another chair.
The nurse grinned at Neal. “It’s not the most comfortable, but if you put the two chairs together, you can at least try to get some sleep.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Westman.”
• • •
The next morning Damita was released from the hospital. Along with the concussion, Damita also had a sprained ankle. One of the attendants in the hospital wheeled her to the exit in a wheelchair. Instead of the car service and driver Neal often used, he pulled up driving his own car.
“Did you call my mother?” Damita asked.
“Yes. She’s meeting you at the apartment.”
“She didn’t come to the hospital?”
“I didn’t think it made sense to call her last night. It was so late. I called her this morning and told her they were releasing you.”
As they drove, Damita realized they weren’t headed in the direction of Carmella’s apartment.
Damita looked through the window uncomfortably. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“I thought it best that you stay at our apartment, under the circumstances. We have much more room. I can have the nurse, Florence, come back and if you like, your mother can stay as well, if that makes you more comfortable.”
“Okay,” Damita responded.
Once in the apartment, Damita looked around and couldn’t help but realize it no longer felt like home. She had felt nothing but pain ever since she had come to this place. The truth was it had never been home. Yet, here she was, back again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Her mother was at the door minutes after they arrived. She grabbed Damita and hugged her immediately.
Karen’s face looked worried. “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry this happened
to you.”
“Neal told you everything?”
“Yes, baby, he told me everything.”
Damita looked at her mother and tears began to well up in her eyes.
Karen looked around the apartment with disdain. “It’s okay, baby. Mama is here. Are you sure you’re going to be okay in this place? You should come home with me.”
“I’m already here and there’s a nurse coming. Also, this place has a lot more room if the nurse or anyone else wants to stay overnight.”
“Can’t the nurse come to my place just as easily? I’ve got some room.”
“I’ll stay with you once my ankle is better,” Damita whispered in her mother’s ear.
“Make sure you do that,” her mother whispered back.
“Is anyone hungry?” Neal asked.
“I’m not hungry,” Damita answered.
“Me neither,” her mother said, rolling her eyes.
“Mom, please.”
“Okay.”
“Mom, will you do me a favor?”
“Sure, anything you need.”
“Would you call Mr. Underhill? He likes you and hopefully that will help keep me in his good graces, at least for a while.”
Karen forced a smile. “Honey, don’t worry. Everything is going to be fine. Your job is going to be fine. Mr. Underhill may like me, but that’s only because I’m your mother. He knows he hit the jackpot when that firm got you. Besides, it’s not like you’re taking a vacation, something very serious just happened.
Damita shifted her eyes downward with embarrassment. “Oh, Mom, please don’t tell him what happened. I would be mortified if everyone in the office was looking at me and feeling sorry for the poor girl that got raped.”
“Honey, I will make sure that Mr. Underhill knows he should be discreet, but your boss does need to know what happened. I will call him as soon as I leave here, okay. Trust me.”
“Of course I trust you.”
Karen glanced in Neal’s direction with contempt. “I’m going to leave now before I say something we’ll all regret. I wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay.”
“Okay, Mom. I understand.”
Before Karen walked out the door, she caught a glimpse of Neal’s smug expression. She turned around and leaned in closely to Damita and whispered in her ear.
On the Other Side Page 15
