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Before I left, Jensen promised that she would call me and let me know how things were proceeding with her investigation. That was three days ago, and I hadn’t heard anything from her, so I decided to give her a call.
"This is Detective Jensen," she answered.
"Good afternoon, Detective Jensen. This is Avonte Petrocelli."
"Yes, Mrs. Petrocelli. What can I do for you?"
"Well, I hadn’t heard from you, so I was just wondering if you had found my husband’s killer."
"I’m sorry to say that we haven’t made an arrest yet. But I assure you that we are doing everything we can. Mr. Petrocelli was last seen at bar called Shooters. Are you familiar with the place?"
"Yes, it’s not far from the house."
"He was seen there on the night of the murder with two women. The woman he was found with, Laurie Springs, and an unidentified black woman. Witnesses describe her as being about five eight, dark complexion with long, straight black hair. Do you know if he knew anybody that matches that description?"
My breath got short. "Not that I know of. Do you think she killed him?"
"At this point, I’d just like to talk to her."
"I understand."
"I’ve gotta go, Mrs. Petrocelli, but I promise, I will let you know if anything changes."
"Thank you, detective," I said, and she hung up the phone.
My hands started shaking, because I knew from the description that the woman they were looking for was Qianna.
I hadn’t spoken to her since that night she said she had something that she needed to take care of. Normally, I’d have been losing my mind about not hearing from her. But I’ve been so consumed with Tyrone’s death, making arrangements for his funeral, and with being a suspect in his murder, that I haven’t really had a chance to think about it.
I started to call her cell, but hung up the phone quickly. Suppose the cops had my phone tapped, and were just waiting for me to lead them to Qianna? If the police tie her to me, they are gonna think that Qianna killed Tyrone for me.
I tried to calm myself down because I knew I was trippin’, and I had to think about what to do. I didn’t know for sure if she really killed him or not, but I had to find out. I got up and got ready to leave the apartment.
But suppose they’re outside waiting for me to lead them to her?
"Stop it, girl, you trippin’," I told myself, and grabbed my keys.
I never knew where Qianna lived, probably because she never told me. So I decided to look for her the only other place I knew her to be.
Just in case somebody was following me, I left the apartment walking quickly, like I was late for something. I got on the subway and took the train to the Times Square station. I got off the train, ran up the stairs, and tried to lose myself in the crowd. When I got outside, I hopped in a cab and gave the driver Angel’s address. As we drove away, I sat in the backseat and felt foolish.
When we got to the building, I stood outside and looked around for a while, before I went inside. I was about to ring the bell when the door opened. Angel looked startled at first, but then she smiled when she saw me standing there. "Hello, Avonte."
"Hi, Angel."
"Come in," she said, and stepped aside. Qianna was right about one thing, Angel was a cutie. "Why don’t you have a seat?"
"Thank you." Angel came and sat down next to me. "I don’t mean to bother you."
"You’re not bothering me," Angel said, and touched my hand. I looked at her eyes; those angel eyes. "I was just on my way out, so I was surprised to see you standing there; that’s all."
"I know, and I’m sorry to just show up here like this, but I need to talk to Qianna. Have you seen her?"
"I thought you came to see me." Angel pulled her hand back slowly and looked away. "Qianna’s in the back."
She looked disappointed that I was there to see Qianna and not her. I thought about how Qianna would talk about Cutie, and the things she could do with her strap.
"Angel," I said, and touched her hand.
