Page 17 of They Never Tell


Font Size:  

“It really does,” Marcus insisted. No one spoke for several seconds. Detric exchanged a look with Juanita and let out a heavy sigh. “Alright, I’m in. If you think this’ll work and Demetrius won’t end up in prison behind this, then…I’m with you.”

Marcus smiled in triumph. “What about you, Bobby? You’ve been quiet. You have any thoughts?”

Dr. Gordon looked surprised to be called on. “Uh…I think that’s a good strategy. Sleight of hand. Distract them. Makes perfect sense to me.”

“Good. Everyone else okay with this?” Marcus asked. After they all nodded in agreement, he took his seat on the couch next to Ladonna and sat back. “Good. I need to hear everybody say it. This is a pact.”

“This is a conspiracy,” Joe muttered, but Marcus ignored it. They each spoke it aloud, just as they had done all those years ago, but there would be no accompanying signatures on documents this time, because Joe was right. They were now co-conspirators. Ladonna shuddered at the thought.

Marcus finished his beer before speaking again. “One more thing before we go. Bobby and the kids are doing a tribute to Nyleah at the game on Friday.”

Everyone sat in silence for a moment until Iesha spoke. “Is that a good idea?” She looked over at Dr. Gordon.

“We did it when that kid got shot last year. It wouldn’t look right not to do it now,” he said.

Dwight’s wife Pamela spoke for the first time. She was always quiet, and Ladonna had never warmed up to her as she had to Iesha. “It’s…morbid,” she said.

“I was thinking bizarre, but morbid works too,” April said.

Marcus shrugged. “Feel however you want about it, but we all need to be there showing support. We gotta make this look right.”

Ladonna’s stomach turned. She placed her plate of half-eaten appetizers on the coffee table and stared at her husband. “Do we really have to go?”

“How would it look if we didn’t?”

Ladonna studied the faces of each person in the room. Some she considered her friends, others were something more or less, but they were all part of a cover-up. And there was a giant elephant in the room, one that had to have crossed their minds. What exactly were they covering up? If Nyleah had been murdered, it could have very well been one of their kids who did it. Members of the Twelve.

In all likelihood, someone in this room had raised a murderer.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Briastoodinherspot in the hallway, the spot from which she had eavesdropped on countless conversations between her parents. It was just behind the formal living room wall, almost at the foot of the stairs, and it was close enough to hear anyone speaking in the family room and the kitchen, even if the TV or radio was playing.

She had ruined her own sweet sixteen surprise party by listening from that spot. She never told her parents she knew because it would have crushed them, especially her father. And she knew all about the car they were planning to buy her, as well as the fact that they disagreed on which make and model to buy and how much it should cost. Truthfully, she was happy to get anything on four wheels. She was sensible that way. Carmen had dreamed of turning sixteen and getting a little black BMW with a big red bow, but instead, she got a little blue Mazda for graduation. She’d pretended to be happy, but Bria knew the truth.

Bria was lower maintenance than Carmen, and she was perfectly fine with something practical. It was a starter car, after all. Something better would come eventually.

She’d heard other discussions as well. And arguments. The big ones used to center around money, which always confused her. “We can’t afford that!” her mother would insist, and her father always said the same thing in various ways. Basically, “I don’t care.” And Bria would wonder why on earth her mother was being so cheap. They clearly had plenty of money. Their house was huge, they drove luxury cars, and they had a vacation home in another state. She chalked it up to her mother being overly cautious and vowed never to treat her own husband that way.

Things must have gotten better at some point, though, because the arguments got less fiery and more nebulous. Her mom complained about how much time her daddy spent doing something or other, or Daddy didn’t like how her mom said this thing in front of that person. It all seemed quite petty to Bria, but at least they weren’t yelling anymore.

Lately, though, the discussions weren’t even arguments anymore. That would have been a good thing if not for the hushed voices and whispered asides, and words Bria only heard on the old Law and Order reruns she loved so much, like “homicide” and “forensics” and “medical examiner.” They were the kinds of conversations you have when something is brewing. Something troublesome.

But the conversation she’d just heard was crystal clear, and as she crept back up the stairs and back to her room, she thought about her friends. They hadn’t all been in the same room alone since the incident. Their parents had forbidden it. But why? What were they so afraid of? And if the parents could meet, why couldn’t the kids?

Bria sat on her bed and tried to decide who to call. It was almost 8 o’clock which meant Bakari was eating dinner, something he took very seriously. Danielle was probably chanting or doing yoga. In all likelihood, Jace was practicing his trumpet. Mike and Avianna were both a mixed bag, but it didn’t matter because she never really talked to either of them on the phone anyway.

As the minutes ticked by, Bria lost her nerve. She wasn’t even the leader type, so what was she thinking trying to corral the group? Then again, her daddy was the unofficial leader of the whole thing, so who better?

She pulled up the group chat and, with shaking fingers, typed a message, short and to the point:

we need 2 meet

CHAPTER NINE

Itmusthavebeen95 degrees by the time the buses got to Divine Stadium. It was named for Xavier Divine, the winningest coach in Manns County history. Manns was one of the most populous counties in metro Atlanta, but for some odd reason, all four high schools shared only two stadiums—Cameron Field being the other. Whenever they traveled to places like Buford or Fayette for the occasional out of district game, the difference was glaring; those schools had stadiums that rivaled college teams.

Heat waves rose from the asphalt. Sweat seemed to drip from every solid surface. Bria stepped off the bus and grabbed her hot pink rolling bag, which contained her makeup, two extra costumes, shoes, boots, and bottles of water. They were wearing the silver catsuits today, which made no sense given the heat, but Ms. Angela, the dance team sponsor, was not the one to argue with.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like