As we pull up to the parking lot of Allison's apartment complex, I look at the building from my side of the window. It actually looks pretty nice for a complex near a rehab center. It's well kept and the plants are nicely trimmed. Nothing's out of place. I don't know what I was expecting it to look like but it definitely isn't how I pictured it to look at all.
Nathan and I climb out of his car and start making our way to Allison's unit. She lives up on the third floor, first door to the right. It doesn't take long to find. Nathan knocks on her front door this time. It takes another two more before the door opens and she appears behind it, her hair somewhat messy and her clothes all wrinkled. The lady seems to be out of it.
"Good afternoon. Are you Allison Stryder?"
"That depends. Who's asking?" she says, blowing a medium-sized bubble with her gum. When it pops, she sucks it back inside her mouth.
It's enough to convince me this lady is indeed Erika's Mom.
The aftermath of using weed for so long—among other things—has made her look so worn out, like she could use some major rest. Although I know she can't be any older than thirty-four or thirty-five, she looks as if she's aged ten years.
"Ma'am, I'm Officer Yamamoto and this is Ms. Morgan. We came from seeing your mother from Winston-Salem. We asked her a few questions pertaining to the death of your daughter, Erika Stryder. And we'd like to do the same with you, if you don't mind," Nathan explains.
For a minute, Allison stares at us like she's surprised, her eyes wide. "Really now? Well, this is a first."
My brows furrow. "What do you mean by that?"
"I wasn't interrogated about Erika."
"How come?" Nathan asks.
"I don't know. Maybe it's because the pigs figured since I was up to no good for a few years and was sent to jail for a laundry list of crimes, they didn't think I was sound enough to answer any questions," she snorts as she crosses her arms.
"Oh."
"Was there anything in particular you needed to know, officer?"
If it isn't because Nathan and I are on an investigation of our own, and the matter is very grave, I would've laughed at the expression on both of our faces. We're completely dumbfounded, speechless. I suppose we weren't expecting Allison to behave like this.
"I don't know if you knew about this, Ms. Stryder," I say. "but long story short, I'm the patient who received your daughter's eyes about three weeks ago. I wanted to know who these eyes belonged to and I found out they were Erika's. So—"
"Okay, and?"
"'And?' What do you mean 'and?' She was your daughter." My face reddens.
"Ma'am, we just want to ask you a few questions. That's all," Nathan speaks exasperatedly.
Sighing, and looking at the two of us, Allison nods. "All right. Fine. Come inside." She makes an exaggerated gesture for us to enter.
I go in first, swiftly observing her living space. Well, if you want to call it that. Everything she owns is all in one, huge area. A faux, black leather futon is pressed up against the wall, facing a small flatscreen. Beside the futon is a floor lamp and a small pile of clothes. Then there's the kitchen, which consists of a small fridge, stovetop, and oven. A round wooden table with two wicker chairs is right across from there. And finally, in the far corner of the room, is a queen-sized bed with the blankets and pillows in a shuffled heap. There's another door to the right I presume is the bathroom.
Allison disappears into her kitchen, not even bothering to tell us to sit down. Nathan and I decide to plant ourselves down on the futon while waiting for her to come back.
"Seems like a fun lady," he mutters under his breath.
"Totally," I mumble back.
"Hopefully she won't be too much to handle."
I hear something scrape across the floor, then footsteps. Allison comes back with a small stool.
"Sorry about my apartment. I know it's so damn small, but it's all I can afford at the moment with the salary I get," she says as she sets it down across from us. She plops down on it, exhaling a breath. "All righty. Ask away. My screwed up brain might not be of much assistance, but hey, it's worth a try while you're here."
Nathan and I glance at each other, exchanging looks. Both of us are thinking the same thing. Perhaps coming to see Allison wasn't the best idea after all.
After a moment of silence, she eyes both of us impatiently.
"I'm waiting. I've got a life to live, you know."
Nathan clears his throat. "Um...from what your mother told Ms. Morgan and I, we know after you and your boyfriend got arrested, she gained permanent custody of Erika."
"Yeah."
"Have you seen Erika once you got out of jail?"
Allison shakes her head. "Nope."
"Have you ever seen her at all?"
"One time. But that was when she was already out of my Mom's house and living with a friend. Mom wouldn't allow me to see her once Robert and I were released from the slammer. I remember it was a week before the girls started college. I found Erika's cell number and text her, saying I'd like to see her again because it'd been a while. Almost ten years. She responded a couple days later but the way she worded it, she didn't seem too ecstatic about the idea.
"However, she agreed to it and decided to meet for lunch. So, when I finally went to go see Erika, I could tell in her eyes she really wasn't happy to see me. She just looked pissed. I wanted to see her because I wanted to try mending what was broken, I guess. But she didn't seem the least bit interested. She felt our relationship was beyond repair."
Yeah, that's because you weren't there for her, I retort in my head.
It takes all the patience I have (which is very little) to refrain myself from actually saying those words. I clamp down on my tongue, trying to ignore that temptation.
"After that day passed," Allison continues. "I realized Erika was right. There wasn't nothing left to fix, so I gave up on trying and didn't speak to her. If I'd known that was the last time I was gonna see her..." Her voice trails off, not finishing the rest of her sentence.
She bites her bottom lip as she wraps her arms around herself, nails digging deep into the fabric of her long-sleeved shirt. Though her eyes don't tear, I can tell she's upset.
I truly don't know how to feel about Allison. Part of me sort of feels bad for her, that she and Erika couldn't establish a mother-daughter relationship. Yet at the same time, I'm still angry at her, for sounding nonchalant earlier and for abandoning her daughter when she was only a kid. Although it's not really anger that's inside of me. It's resentment. The feeling takes root in my heart, spreading it everywhere like a wildfire...
I blink twice, confused for a second.
Wait. Resentment?
Why do I feel like that? I shouldn't. I mean, sure, Allison at the time was a loser and didn't care for Erika like a Mom should care for her child, but there's no reason for me to feel resentful towards her. I don't know Allison from a hole in the wall. This feeling can't be mine. No way can this be coming from me.
"Did Erika talk much to you during lunch?" Nathan asks, his voice bringing my mind back to reality.
Allison looks up at the ceiling, thoughtful. "Mm, not a whole lot. We sorta had an argument, then she said she had to go back home because she was gonna spend some time with her friend and...that was it. I don't remember anything else after that."
"Do you know where she lived?" I'm finally able to speak, feeling more calm.
"It was in Atlanta somewhere, some posh neighborhood near the college she and her friend were going to attend to."
I don't say anything else, just nod.
I know what posh city Allison's referring to. James and I have been to Buckhead more than our fingers can count.
I look at Nathan, who's writing some of the information down on his notepad.
"All right, am I finished?" she asks as she places her hands on her lap.
After he's finished, he looks up back at Allison. "Yes, ma'am. We've no more questions for you today, you've answered everything."
"Oh! Glad to know I was actually useful for something."
"Yeah, well..." Nathan sighs as he rises to his feet. "...thank you for your time, Ms. Stryder."
She flicks a hand. "Sure, no problem. Wish I could've known more things. But being the pothead I was back in my day, I highly doubt I'll remember anything else."
This lady is really getting under my skin.
"You tried recalling the events prior to your daughter's death, that's the important thing. May I use your bathroom?"
"Go ahead. It's that door way to the corner over there."
"Thank you."
Nathan walks over to the bathroom.
Before he closes the door, I say, "I'll be waiting outside."
"Okay," he nods. Then the door closes.
I don't want to stay with Allison any longer. My patience—or whatever's left of it, if any at all—is wearing thin.
I get up from the futon, slinging my purse around me, and make a beeline for the front door. I unlock the bottom knob and open it halfway when a hand suddenly grabs my forearm. I look over my shoulder to see it's Allison's.
She comes a little closer to me and murmurs, "He's cute. He's your boyfriend?"
The question catches me off guard. "Huh?"
"I said, is he your boyfriend?"
"I..." My eyes shift to bathroom door to make sure Nathan isn't listening. He's still in the bathroom. "...no, I mean, he's not—we're not—uh, he's just here to help me out."
Why the hell do you care? is what I want to ask her.
"You sure?" Allison counters. "It seems like you guys are together. I saw the way he's been looking at you."
"Really?" I bite my bottom lip.
I'm not here to dish with this woman about Nathan, but I can't stop myself from letting the word escape my lips.
"Mm-hm. I know when a guy is truly in love with a woman, I've seen it."
"What do you know about love? You spent practically your whole young life sleeping around with different men," I blurt out, regretting it instantly.
Her mouth gives a slight twitch, her eyes shooting daggers at me but she ignores my statement.
"Do you trust him?"
I hear the sound of the toilet flushing and the doorknob being unlocked. Why are we talking about this?
Before I know what I'm doing, I nod.
"Yeah. I trust him."
"Well, honey, you make sure he deserves your trust."
I give her a quizzical look, wanting to ask her something else, but then the bathroom door opens and Allison's fingers unravel from my forearm, leaving a mark there. Nathan returns and catches up to me.
"I thought you would've been outside already," he says.
"Forgot my purse. I came back to get it," I lie.
"Oh. Okay. Well, let's go."
"Bye, officer. Bye, Ms. Morgan."
I turn around to face Allison again, only when I do the door's closed. I stand there staring at it, not sure why. I suppose it's because her words of trust have me thinking. Nathan's voice brings me out of my momentary daze.
"You want me to go in front of you?"
"No, I'll go."
Proceeding to descend the stairs, I grip to the railing. I'm halfway down to the landing for the second floor when a dog barks. I crane my neck to see an elderly lady with a chihuahua climb up the steps. As she comes up and we make eye contact, I get ready to say hello but it's when I open my mouth the world went white again.