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“Yes, sir. I don’t know the exact date, but it was definitely last year.”
Bakari opened his eyes and inspected a doodle on the table in front of him. It was a flower, half-smudged from where someone had tried to wipe it away. They had almost succeeded, but almost doesn’t count.
“How did you first meet the victim?”
“I met her in like…I don’t know…fourth grade? We’re in this group together.”
“Group? What kind of group?”
“It’s like this club for smart kids. Smart black kids. It’s called Talented Twelve.”
“Right. I know all about it.”
“Cool. So then you know we saw each other outside of school once a month. And we all hung out every now and then.”
Webb was writing, and Bakari was starting to relax. This wasn’t as bad as he had imagined it to be. And it wasn’t nearly as bad as the picture his father had painted. Joe watched way too muchLaw & Order.
The more relaxed he got, the hungrier he felt. It was almost 1 o’clock, and on a normal day, he would have already eaten 2,000 calories by now. His growling stomach didn’t attract any attention, but he was embarrassed by it all the same.
“Let’s fast forward to the night in question. When was the last time you saw the victim alive that night?”
Bakari fidgeted in his seat. “That would be when she went outside.”
“Why did she go outside?”
“To smoke,” he answered, nodding for good measure. It was the truth, but for some reason, it felt like a lie.
“Did you happen to see who she went outside with?”
“Um…Demetrius, for sure.”
Webb looked up from his paper. “Of course,” he said matter-of-factly. “Who else?”
“You know what, I can’t remember. I wanna say…probably…yeah, I don’t remember. There were folks going in and out all night.”
“Uh-huh. And I take it you didn’t go outside.”
“No sir, I’m an athlete. I don’t smoke weed. Or cigarettes. I don’t smoke anything.”
Webb scribbled on his pad. “Where were you when the victim was found?”
“At the bar.”
“What were you doing at the bar?”
Bakari hesitated. “Getting something to drink.”
“Alcohol?”
Bakari looked at Will. “It’s okay, you can answer,” the lawyer said.
“Yeah, I had a rum and coke.” That was true, too, and he felt like a hypocrite.
“Okay, thank you. I’m pretty sure I know the answer just by looking at you, but: do you lift weights?”
“Of course.”
“How much do you bench?”
