I pressed my finger to the doorbell then hit it twice. I could hear its muffled ringing echoing on the other side of the door. It went silent for a moment and then the hasty shuffling of feet came my way.
The door pulled open with a hard yank—a necessity since Aunt Jackie's door was just a bit too oversized for the door jam—and then there was Jackson standing alert in the doorway, his face a cool mask.
He wore baggy sweats and a plain black tee that had some kind of splotchy rust colored discoloration running up the side. His short tufts of kinky hair were unkempt but oiled. "The hell you doin' here?"
I felt my top lip twist up in aggravation. "What do you think I'm doing here?"
He let go of the door and puffed his chest out like the world's proudest bird. "Here to say sorry and beg for me to come back."
It took everything in me not to turn around and go home. "I'm not sorry. I came to tell you, you have one day to report for duty before I fire your ass for real."
His chest deflated. "So, I still got a job?"
"It's hanging by a thread."
He looked back into the darkness of the house like he was seeking permission for something. "A'ight."
A'ight? That's it? No arguing. No negotiations? Just compliance?
My jaw unclenched. "Well, this was easier than expected."
He shrugged. "New job doesn't start for weeks. I still got bills to pay."
"Then why did you quit in the first place?"
He looked away; his hand started fiddling with the copper doorknob like he was ready to slam the door closed. "...It was a, uh...high stress moment and... you know, sometimes you just got to...take a stand—"
"You were trying to impress your girlfriend, huh?"
He huffed out a resigned sigh. "...Yeah."
I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. It's over. Tomorrow. Report for duty or hit the unemployment office."
I turned on the dime and moved to walk back down the cracked concrete walk toward the street where my car was parked.
"Uh, Evie!" Jackson called after me in a kind of whisper. "Could you do me a little favor first?"
I turned and stared holes into him. "Seriously?"
"Could you...apologize to Donna first?"
I almost laughed. "Now I know you don' lost your natural Black mind! Apologize for what?"
"Cuz, plllleeeeaassee..."
Oh, now it's 'cuz'. Not boss-lady, slave driver, or iron fist of the capitalist machine? How you like that?
"Well, isn't this pathetic? 'Help me, Evie!', 'save me, Evie!'" I tsked before pointing my finger right at his fat head. "Where were you when your girlfriend was disrespecting me in my own business?"
He looked around again like he was fearful of the wind then said in a hushed voice. "I'm sorry about that. Everything happened quick as hell."
"Why are you whispering?" I looked back at the house and realized suddenly that a strange car was parked in the driveway. "Is she in there?"
He met my eyes, a look of pleading flashed across them. "Yeah."
"Unbelievable." I shook my head. "So what, you want me to go in there and play nice so you can go back to work without having to hear her mouth?"
He visibly wilted, then nodded. "Well...yeah."
"Alternative plan. Why don't you grow a goddamn backbone?"
"I have a backbone! I just..." He took a deep breath then exhaled with a stronger resolve. "I don't want my girl and my family beefin' over bullshit."
That started me. He had no clever comebacks nor sass to give even though Lord knows he was deficient in neither. The only thing that mattered to him in the moment was that there were no obstacles in the way of his happiness. Did that mean I was one of those obstacles? "This is serious, isn't it?" I said quietly.
"Yeah, it is."
I thought about it for a moment. Christmases at grandma's where I had to avoid her or risk a confrontation. A wedding I wasn't invited to. A daughter not named after me! An entire wing of the family I had to tap dance around. A lifetime of having a member of the family whodespised me—ugh! That sounded like so much work! I am waayyy too lazy for grudges.
We stared at each other, each contemplating our options. The setting sun speckled the trees behind him, though the heat still raged even in the shade. Cicadas trilled happily unaware of the standoff happening. At last, I sighed.
The things I do for family. "Fine. Stand aside."
I stalked past him, my flats pounding the concrete the only expression of defiance I was physically expressing.
Inside, I walked across dulled white tile of their kitchen until I found Donna sitting on Aunt Jackie's ancient floral couch in the living room. She looked up from her phone and turned back when she heard me. A scowl crossed her face when she saw me.
She jumped up from the couch expectantly, her stance at the ready. Someone should tell her I don't fight. "What the hell are you doing here?" she snarled. "You here to fight me, is that it?"
Retrospectively, I might have come in a little too aggressively.
"No, I came to apologize." I stopped to stand in front of her. The distance between us was thick and tempestuous but I swallowed my pride and powered through. "While my restaurant still isn't a playground... I shouldn't have talked to you like that. I was having a very bad day and took it out on you a little bit. I'm sorry. I'm normally not like that but some days I can be a real...bitch."
As I heard the words exiting my mouth, I realized they weren't words to pacify her for Jackson's sake, but words I really meant. It was true that she was super annoying, but I'd always lived by the philosophy that no matter what, other people didn't control my reactions. I don't curse because other people curse me. I don't fight just because other people want to fight. And I certainly don't lower myself to take cheap shots just because I want to hurt someone...
The last time we met I'd lost all control of my emotions. But just because she'd been kinda assholey before didn't mean I'd had to up the ante. The only thing I'd accomplished that day was causing a scene and losing a baker.
And what were we even fighting about anyway?
The anger melted off Donna's face with every word I spoke. Her posture relaxed. "Yeah...well..." She rubbed her hands together, suddenly unsure of how to respond.
As her defense loosened, I felt my own walls ease. "I also wanted to apologize for saying I was better than you. I don't think I'm better than anyone I just...wanted to hurt you, I guess. And, well... that was really shitty."
"Apology accepted." For the first time she smiled at me. It was curt and not overly friendly, but it was a start. I gave her a nod and a wave before turning to go but she cleared her throat. "I should apologize too."
I turned back, my face a neutral mask to hide the surprise. I was mostly astonished that she could humble herself enough to even acknowledge that she owed me an apology—but maybe that was my mistake. Assuming that she couldn't express remorse for her behavior the way I could was unfair of me. Unfair and maybe a little judgmental.
"When we met, I took one look at you and just knew you'd think you were better than me. I... well, maybe I wasn't as respectful as I should have been." I could see it pained her to say it but it pained her even more to say what she said next. "I can be a real bitch too."
I couldn't count how many times in my life I'd heard about how stuck up someone thought I would be when first meeting me. I guess I just had that kind of aura even though it was never on purpose. Many of the people who'd thought that I now counted as a friend, including Alice. I doubt Donna and I would become best friends, but we could be civil. We could try.
"Apology accepted." If I were angry before, I wasn't anymore. I'd never tell anyone, but anger was the hardest emotion for me to hold. Simple, sincere apologies counted for something to me.
She nodded, and her smile seemed more genuine. "And sorry about Damarius too."
I waved that off. "Oh, of course. He's just a kid."
"Yeah, a kid with too much damn energy. I don't know where it comes from, but he needs to give me some." She sighed so heavy I could feel her exhaustion. "He wouldn't have to be with me all day if I hadn't missed the deadline for camp."
"No one can watch him?" I asked.
"My mom does while I work at night but during the day I'm on my own." She shrugged. "Then I met Jackson but the only time I can be with him is during the day. And once he starts trucking, I won't see him for weeks at a time."
"That sucks."
"It really does. I can't wait for school to start."
We laughed and for a moment it felt natural. When we lapsed into an awkward pause, I looked pointedly towards the wall clock. "I've got to get back to work." "So, we're cool?"
She bobbed her head. "Yeah, we cool."
The ability to squash beef when necessary is a truly underrated skill.
The next morning Jackson was in the kitchen bright and early with no Donna in sight. Good for business, but great for me. I couldn't stumble my way through another one of his over-the-top but totally delicious recipes if my life depended on it. Nor could I tolerate another customer wondering aloud why the muffins were so hard the last few days.
That is to say, I was happy things were back to normal.
The day was going smoothly for once—customer volume was high; customer complaints were low—when I felt the tell-tale vibrating of my phone in my pocket. I handed a man in a pink dress shirt the bagel and America he'd ordered then pulled the phone from the pocket of my slacks in two fluid movements.
It was Em Higgs. "Hey, Evie," she answered once I'd wedged the phone between my ear and shoulder. "I'm doing the finishing touches on the article today and wanted to know if I could go over some of the details with you."
"Today?" I waited for the register to kick out a receipt then handed it to the man in the pink dress shirt.
"It won't take long," she said. "No more than twenty, thirty minutes."
I did owe her one. "Sure. I'm at work right now though."
"The cafe? No problem. I can swing by, or we can do it after work."
I scheduled for her to come over just after closing so I could clarify a few statements before I went home.
With that done, I thought for sure there were no more surprises in store for me. I was so, so wrong because that was the moment the good detectives decided to reappear. They snuck up on me again. My eyes were busy watching a fresh brew drip slowly into a pot after I'd remade the day's special when they zipped up behind me like the Men in Black coming to silence an alien enthusiast.
The man-cop spoke first. "Ms. Harper." I turned to see the detectives standing just on the inside of my counter with grim expressions darkening their features.
But to be fair, they always looked grim. At least the two times I'd met them. I walked over and looked from one to the other. "Detectives...sorry, I'm blanking on your names."
"Mcclain and Ibarra." Ibarra said, pointing out who was who with a flick of her thumb. "We've got the subpoena for you."
Mcclain held out an official looking document and pressed his lips together smugly while I grabbed it and read it.
United States District Court.... subpoena for documents...YOU ARE HEREBY COMMANDED...and then the Deputy Clerks signature.
I carefully refolded the paper then looked at Mcclain and smiled my most charming smile. "Alright. Well, it looks like I've got some files for you then. This way, please."
They followed me to the back in heavy silence. Once in my office I turned on the light, woke up my computer, and pulled up the Ashley Pham file. Ibarra walked around the desk without permission to look at the screen. "Is that it?"
"Yes. What now? You take the computer?"
"No but I might have to call forensics to retrieve the information."
A'int nobody got time for that shit. "I have a spare flash drive I can put it on if you need it quick." Ibarra gave me a distrustful look, but I just shrugged. "Seems more efficient that way."
"Fine. We only need to corroborate Ms. Pham's story anyway."
They watched me carefully as I copied the file from the computer to the empty flash drive I'd bought just for this reason. Once that was done, I handed it off to Ibarra and they strolled out as easily as they had strolled in.
I heaved a sigh of relief once they were gone. At least that's over with.
**************
"This is quite a story." Em sat on a bar stool with her laptop and a stack of notes spread across the countertop. "I especially love the part where you almost got beat up by the boxer's girlfriend."
I nodded as I wiped down the espresso machine. "My favorite part of any case is when I get paid—which I haven't yet, by the way."
She wasn't very interested in whether I got paid or not. "I still can't believe someone like David Howell the third is a murderer. I would have pegged Kelli."
I glanced at the front door to confirm I'd flipped the sign from open to closed. "I had her pegged too for most of it but there were several witnesses who saw her at the Leukemia Ball plus, I can't reason why she'd kill Noah over some nudes that he leaked forever ago."
"True." She tapped something out on her keyboard, backspaced, the retyped it. "And the fact that he was killed with David's gun is the smoking gun—pardon the pun."
I ran the rag over the back counter one more time while I pondered out loud. "And why would Kelli risk prison over nudes? She's got too much to lose. She's got the looks, the reputation, the marriage—and she's a successful businesswoman."
"Wasn't always so successful."
I turned to look at her. "Well, yeah. She started out doing pageants for scholarship money."
"No, no. I mean a couple years ago." Em looked up from her laptop with a twinkle of excitement for the idle gossip she was about to spill. "You know how I work at a shitty gossip rag and have to keep taps on these rich assholes?"
"Sounds awful!" I laughed.
"It is! Anyway, we were running some piece about the city's most successful businesspeople and well, long story short the Olson's were broke with a capital B!"
My eyebrow shot into my hairline. "Broke millionaires? Is there such a thing?"
"There is when they owe millions and can't pay it back."
"Powers Trucking is one of the most successful companies on the east coast."
"Which is why they almost divorced." She smirked. She said she wanted more than slinging low brow stories at that gossip rag but watching her dish made it clear on some level she enjoyed it. Of course, that was none of my business. "It was her bad investments. All those event halls and venues. They cost a pretty penny on upkeep alone."
"They seem fine now. What turned it around?"
"She ran for office." She went back to merrily typing away. "I guess all the publicity really helped business."
Or all the campaign funds. What if...
What if, years after Noah successfully blackmailed Kelli over the 'tasteful' nude photos he'd discovered, he decided to dig a little deeper into the life of his old pal. And what if he discovered just a little bit of...embezzling? And what if he threatened to go to the cops if she didn't share some of that million-dollar gain?
What if this whole thing wasn't about some half-assed pornographic pics from a decade ago, but about the kind of crime that could get you a decade in prison at least? A decade in prison, that would be something to kill for.
I watched Em chatter, my mind in a spiral. Was Kelli the murderer? Did it matter at this point? After all, my job wasn't to find a murderer but to find enough plausible deniability to convince a jury that Ashley Pham was innocent if it ever went that far, and I did that. I had no moral or ethical obligation to seek justice for Noah. And anyway, I had zero proof but the word of a gossip columnist.
Plus, the police had my entire file and a whole list of suspects, including Kelli. Whether she or David or even Ro murdered Noah was up to them to figure out—that's what they got paid for.
But damn, does that mean my hundred percent success rate was broken? Even if it was, from a business perspective there was no reason I had to tell prospective clients that. From a journalism perspective, however, was an entirely different matter.
I held my hand up to halt Em's excited babble, then grimaced a bit for the news I was about to break to her. "You might want to hold off on publishing this for a day or two.
I've never seen a smile drop faster.
***********************************
A/N: (Jan 7, 2022) It's that time. I'm taking my late book hiatus so I can drop the last few chapters at once so as not to break the flow of the climax. I'll be back in two to three weeks for our exciting (or middling, IDK) conclusion to Book 5, including Epilogue and Afterward.