“Has David Locklear returned to class?” Mingus asked.
The woman snapped, “You can’t talk to any of the students without parental permission.”
Mingus suddenly felt scolded and his eyebrows lifted. “I only asked if he’d returned,” he snapped back, not at all intimidated by her brusque tone and the cutting look she was giving him.
She turned and hurried out the door, gesturing for him to follow. “I apologize, but we have an issue with one of the buses and I have twenty-seven students still waiting to get home. I had a student smoking pot in the boys’ room and a television news crew hovering like vultures at the corner of the property. Now the school board is talking about closing us and I have parents breathing down my neck because of the news coverage about one of my best teachers. I’ve had my hands full and today has just been one of those days!” She cut her gaze back in his direction, seeming to need a hint of understanding. “But yes, he’s back.”
Mingus gave her a nod in response.
They traversed a series of hallways and one flight of stairs into a second building. Metal lockers numbered consecutively and secured with an assortment of padlocks lined the halls at each turn. Posters meant to encourage and promote the high school experience decorated the walls. An occasional student and a few teachers eyed him curiously. One or two were even bold enough to question the school’s principal, who summarily dismissed them, sending them on their way.
Principal Donato came to an abrupt stop, the walkie-talkie on her hip vibrating for her attention. She paused, reaching to answer the man on the other end.
“Yes?”
“The bus has left, but we’ve got a reporter heading to the athletic fields.”
“I’m on my way,” the woman responded. “Let them know we’re calling the police to have them removed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her head waving from side to side. “Will it ever stop?” she muttered.
Mingus gave her a slight smile.
“I’m sorry.” She pointed to the door on the left, at the end of the hallway. “That’s Ms. Graves’s classroom. This should only take me a minute. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“No worries,” Mingus responded as she did an about-face, disappearing quickly through the doors they’d just passed.
Mingus moved to end of the hallway, pausing to knock before entering the room. “Are you Ms. Graves?”
The woman was seated at one of the desks, completely lost in thought as she stared into space. She jumped, blushing ever so slightly as she stood abruptly. “Yes, I am. Angel Graves, but you can call me Angel. And you are?”
“My name’s Mingus. Mingus Black. Principal Donato told me I’d find you here.”
“You’re here to pick up Joanna’s things?”
He nodded as he moved to the woman’s side. She was tall for a woman, standing nearly as tall as him in flats, and he was a good six feet, two inches.
“How is she doing?”
“She could use her friends right now.”
“I’ve been trying to call but haven’t been able to get an answer. I didn’t want to just show up at her house unannounced.”
“The police confiscated her phone.”
Angel threw up her hands in frustration. “I still don’t believe this is happening. No one does.”
“How well do you know Joanna?”
“She’s one of my best friends. We’ve worked here together for years.”
“Do you think she’s guilty?”
“I think someone’s lying through his teeth. Joanna would never violate the trust she has with any student. She’s an outstanding teacher. Her peers respect her and her students adore her! She’s one of the most popular teachers in this place! Joanna Barnes is no sexual predator and, if need be, I will gladly testify to her character.”
“Do you know the kid who’s accused her?”
“I know she would not want his trifling little behind! That boy—and make no mistake, he is a boy,” she said, emphasizing her word before continuing, “has absolutely nothing to offer her or any other woman with an ounce of good sense. In fact, I can’t fathom any teacher wanting one of these nasty boys. No manners, barely past puberty and they always smell bad!” She wrinkled her nose as if a breeze of the offensive odor she talked about was suddenly wafting through her space. “I’d bet everything near and dear to me that boy is lying through his teeth.”
Mingus nodded. “Do you know where I can find him?”
“Right now? I’m sure he’s down in the gym or out on the baseball field with the coach, but you didn’t hear that from me. Our boys’ baseball team has made it to national playoffs. He’s one of the star players. Everyone’s coddling him right now to ensure he plays.”
Mingus was just about to ask another question when a woman suddenly barged into the room. She moved straight to the desk, pulling open a drawer and peering inside as if looking for something specific. Mingus noticed there was a standing file rack with a few file folders and someone’s purse inside. Realizing she wasn’t alone, the woman looked from Mingus to Angel and back, her gaze sweeping his length with curiosity.
“Oh, excuse me! I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said, a wide smile crossing her face.
Angel rolled her eyes skyward. “I’m sure you didn’t, Marion. What can I help you with?”
Ignoring the question, the woman stepped forward, extending her hand to shake his. “I’m Marion Talley. I head the English department. Are you a parent?”
Mingus gave the woman a look back, his gaze narrowing. Recognizing her name, he hadn’t known what to expect. He was slightly surprised, knowing that she and Joanna were the same age. She looked much older than he had imagined, hiding her years behind a touch too much makeup. Overbleached hair was cut in a pristine bob and the form-fitting dress she wore hugged her bulges tightly.
He shook her outstretched hand. “No, ma’am. I’m not,” he said, not bothering to introduce himself. He turned his attention back to Angel. “I appreciate you talking to me. I’ll take those things now.”
Angel moved to the desk and a box that rested on top. “Thank you, and if you talk to my girl, would you please let her know she can call me at any time? Day or night. And I’ll stop by to check up on her sometime this week.”
Marion’s eyes widened as if she’d had a lightbulb moment. “Oh, you’re here to pick up Ms. Barnes’s personal belongings. It’s such a shame! She just never looked like the type.”
“What type is that?” Mingus asked.
The woman fanned a hand in his direction. “You know...”
“No, I don’t. So why don’t you tell me?” He eyed her with a raised brow.
“The type to be accused of such a heinous act. She just never seemed like that type. And that poor child! I just hate to think what he has had to go through! It really is a shame. You think you know someone until you don’t.”
“So you think she did it?”
“Well, obviously I don’t know for sure, but why would the young man lie? He’s one of our brightest students, with a promising future. It breaks my heart to think how that woman may have traumatized him!”
“Marion, I just can’t with you right now,” Angel snapped, extending her palm toward the woman. She gave Marion her back, her head shaking slowly from side to side. She took a deep inhale of air and held it, speaking only after she’d released it slowly. “Thank you, Mr. Black.”
Mingus gave her a slight smile as he lifted the box with both hands. He moved to the door and made his exit. Behind him he could hear the two women fussing, their conversation rising a decibel as it echoed down the hallway.
Making his way back to his car, he deposited the box into the trunk, pausing to rifle through its contents. He wasn’t expecting to find anything significant but was curious to see i
f he’d learn something new about Joanna that he didn’t yet know.
Her friend Angel had rested a note on top, encouraging her to hang in there. The words were fluff and glitter, meant to make her smile. He decided he liked Angel. She was regular people and what you saw was what you got. He understood why Joanna considered her a friend.
Marion Talley, on the other hand, was a piece of work. Her hostility toward Joanna was corporeal, thick and abundant. The woman had barely been able to keep from sneering when she spoke Joanna’s name. Despite a vapid attempt to seem sympathetic, she instead came off as judgmental and disapproving. There had even been an air of revulsion in her tone that hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Mingus made a mental note to do a little more digging into Marion Talley. A woman like that had secrets and he was certain whatever she hoped to hide might prove to be beneficial to the case. Or not.
Chapter 5
Mingus had moved his car to the other side of the school, into the parking lot that faced the ball field. The local police were standing in conversation with a news reporter from station WTVD, admonishing him and his cameraman about being on school property. The school principal stood off to the side with another man, looking as flustered as she had looked earlier.
On the field, one of the coaches was running the baseball team through drills, one young athlete after another perfecting the art of stealing a base. A few stood off to the side eyeing the melee of adults, laughter and cell phones marking the moment.
Mingus recognized David Locklear from his high school yearbook photo. Because of his age, and the nature of the crime, his identity was being protected from the public, although Mingus imagined it wouldn’t take much for a determined reporter to discover who he was. He had no doubts the reporter being escorted back to his ride had been banking on those boys being boys and one or more talking out of turn to give him a story.
David Locklear was laughing it up with a crowd of his friends. He seemed disinterested in the commotion, unfazed by the attention as a few of his pals high-fived him or threw easy punches against his narrow shoulders. He looked anything but traumatized.
Mingus suddenly felt conflicted. He didn’t think Joanna was guilty and he fully intended to prove it. But if someone had taken advantage of the boy then that made him a victim. David didn’t need to be judged or criminalized for something that wasn’t his fault. Too many women endured not being believed or, worse, castigated for the abuse dealt to them. Mingus didn’t want to perpetuate the fallacy that David Locklear had to have done something to invite any criminal behavior against him if indeed something had happened. Until he could prove otherwise, he owed the boy the benefit of the doubt, no matter how he was behaving.
He suddenly sat upright in his seat, tilting his head just enough to peer over the tops of the metal-framed Aviators he wore. He watched as a pretty, young woman stood in conversation with the teacher named Marion Talley, their conversation seeming heated and one-sided, as Mrs. Talley appeared to be scolding the girl. Seconds later the girl moved to the fenced ball field and exchanged words with David Locklear, who seemed irritated by the intrusion. The girl talked, but Mingus didn’t see the boy respond. Instead he gave her his back and moved to the outfield behind the other players. His female friend shifted her leather handbag over her shoulder, turning abruptly as she hurried across the lot to a parked car. The driver had been sitting patiently, the car running, waiting until the young woman was settled inside. They pulled out of the lot into traffic.
Mingus lowered his camera and reached for his cell phone. He dialed his brother’s number and waited for someone to answer.
“Detective Armstrong Black, please.”
There was a pause as Mingus listened to the person speaking on the other end.
“Tell him it’s his brother calling. Mingus Black.”
Another pause.
“I’ll hold, thank you.”
Mingus shifted his attention back to Marion Talley standing in conversation with the principal, the coach and the man he didn’t know. The woman was animated, her hands moving in sync with her mouth. The others seemed to be listening with half an ear, their expressions blank.
The phone line suddenly clicked in his ear, his brother greeting him.
“Hey,” Mingus responded. “I need you to run a license plate for me.”
* * *
Joanna swept the last of the debris into a pile and lifted it to the trash bin. Despite their promise to not wreak havoc on her home, the police had left her with a mess to clean up. Clothes had been pulled from the hangers and strewed to the floor. Drawers had been pulled from the bureaus and emptied. Her beloved books had been knocked from the shelves. Even the toiletries under her bathroom sink had been pilfered and tossed aside. The intrusion had left her angry and frustrated and she’d been glad that Mingus had dropped her off and hadn’t come inside.
She blew a soft sigh. Ellington had offered to stay and help her put things back in place, but she’d refused his assistance. She had needed the time alone, just a few minutes of respite to clear her head and put the last twenty-four hours into perspective. Putting her possessions back into place had been therapy of sorts. Now she was wondering where Mingus was and if he planned to return.
She fought the urge to call the number he’d left for her and then remembered she didn’t have a way to communicate with him without leaving the house to find a phone. Her confiscated cell phone was now in a plastic bag down at the police station. She suddenly heard her mother’s voice in her ear, whispering that she should have had a landline installed for emergencies. In case her precious cell phone didn’t work. Her parents still had the same phone and the same telephone number from 1965, when they’d gotten married and had purchased their first home. Convincing them that they no longer needed it had been futile and now, it seemed Joanna would have to concede that they may have been right about keeping it.
She moved from room to room, checking to ensure her possessions were in their proper place, irritation still fueling frustration. She moved back to the kitchen and began reheating the leftovers from the night before. As the spaghetti sauce began to slowly warm, she pulled plates from an upper cabinet and proceeded to set the table for two. Minutes later the melding of garlic and tomatoes scented the air as slices of garlic-buttered bread waited to be popped into the toaster oven.
A rumble of noise drew her attention to the bay of front windows. There had been a small crowd gathered at the edge of her driveway since earlier that morning. A team from the local media, parents, sexual violence advocates and people just being nosey, hoping to catch a glimpse of her doing something illicit to report on social media. Some carried signs calling her all sorts of vile names. Others just waited with their cell phones at the ready to capture any image that might further the narrative that she was a bad person who’d done something awful to one of Chicago’s youngest and brightest.
Peering past the curtains she saw Mingus standing in conversation with the cameraman from the ABC7 Chicago news team. The two were chatting like old friends, the other man tossing his head back as he laughed at something Mingus had said. She watched as the stranger began to pack up his camera equipment. After a few more minutes of chatter, the cameraman and the reporter climbed into their news van. The crowd had thinned substantially, most returning to their cars. Only one or two persons still lingered, finally disappearing, as well, after an exchange with the private investigator.
Joanna moved to the front door and eagerly pulled it open. She watched as Mingus turned slowly. He hesitated for a split second when he caught sight of her and then with the briefest nod of his head he moved toward the door.
She greeted him eagerly. “What did you say to make them leave?”
Mingus shrugged his broad shoulders. “They didn’t have any reason to stay,” he answered. His eyes skated around the space. “You’ve been busy. I expected to find more of a mess.”
Mingus nodded. “Something smells good.”
“Leftovers. I thought you might be hungry. I mean, I didn’t know if you might want something to eat. I mean... I thought... I don’t know what I mean,” she finally muttered, feeling out of sorts for reasons she couldn’t begin to explain. “For all I know you might need to go home to have dinner with your wife or your girlfriend.”
Mingus smiled, his gaze narrowing ever so slightly. “I don’t have a wife,” he said. “Or a girlfriend. I’m surprised Simone didn’t tell you that.”
Joanna shrugged. His sister had told her, but she figured it didn’t hurt to double check. She had no doubts Mingus didn’t tell his siblings everything about his personal life. She didn’t bother to respond.
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled a cell phone from inside, passing it to her. “It’s a burner. Until you get yours back.”
The two locked gazes for the briefest moment before she responded. “Thank you.” There was a moment of pause, awkward and slightly tense, as both waited for the other to lead. Joanna finally turned toward the kitchen. “Come eat,” she said. “Tell me about your afternoon. Did you make it by the school?”
“I did,” Mingus said. He pulled out a seat and sat. “I spoke to your friend Angel. She’s worried about you.”
“Angel is good people. I need to call her.”
“I also met Marion Talley.”
Joanna rolled her eyes. “I can just imagine that conversation.”
“She’s definitely not good people,” Mingus quipped. “There was nothing likeable about her.”
Joanna set a plate of spaghetti in front of the man then took her own seat. “Marion can definitely be a challenge. What did she say about me? Because I know she had something to say.”
Mingus pulled a forkful of food to his mouth. He didn’t bother to answer, only giving her a look that said more than he needed to say out loud.
Tempted by the Badge Page 6
