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She was stalling for time.
Hugo flashed a photo of the now-dead Beany in front of her face.
“Yeah. I know him.”
“Do you know who shot him?”
“No.”
“Do you care who shot him?”
That bought a gap-toothed grin to her face. “No. Can I go now?”
I unsnapped my cuffs. “Yes. We’re all going right down to the 103rd Precinct. You’re under arrest for murder.”
Her eyes grew huge with fear. “I didn’t kill nobody.”
I cuffed her hands behind her back while Hugo rattled off her right to remain silent and all that shit. We both knew she hadn’t killed Beany but her brother certainly had and the only way to find out where he was hiding was to put the squeeze on his crackhead sister.
It didn’t take long to get the truth out of Maria Gonzalez. She held up pretty well through the reading of her Miranda rights but when we got downtown and it was time for fingerprinting and picture taking, brotherly love flew right out the window. She gave us what we needed to catch the real killer.
When I got home that evening, it was good to find the driveway empty. Saundra’s boyfriend, Yero, spends so much time at our place, he might as well just move on in. As I opened the door, I could hear the sound of some music that sounded like monks chanting coming from her room.
I knocked on her door. “Honey, I’m home.”
Saundra opened the door and kissed me lightly on the cheek. “Hi, Daddy. Did you have a good day?”
“I’m a cop. There is no such thing as a good day at work.”
It was an old joke between us that started six years ago when Saundra first moved in. Back then she used to be really sad all the time about her mother’s death and I didn’t like to tell her about the human misery that I encountered each day. So, I’d make up these stories that had happy endings. One night I was just too tired to come up with another I saved/rushed a little boy to the hospital and he is going to be fine story and just told her that there was no such thing in my business as a good day at work.
When Saundra first came to live with me, I studied her every word and gesture, looking for signs of her mother that I could stamp out immediately. With all respect to the dead, Lola Smith was a weak, indecisive, and chronically depressed female who spent far too much time waiting for Mr. Right to show up on her doorstep. Saundra is the only child I will ever have in this lifetime and I wanted her to be the complete opposite—strong, educated, independent, with clear-cut goals and money of her own. To be honest, I’d hoped she would win a scholarship to one of those fancy girls’ schools like Spelman or Barnard and land one of those jobs where she’d have a big office and a six-figure paycheck. But she decided to study the rag trade and open a boutique. That’s okay by me. Saundra has turned out to be a terrific young woman and there is nothing wrong with raising a family and selling clothes. I’m going to give her the start-up money and pay for her wedding to Yero. Then I’m going to sit her down, tell her a truth that has always needed telling and live the life that will make me happy.
Chapter 5
EVELYN
Phil is taking me to B.B. King’s blues club in Manhattan so I’m trying to find the right pair of shoes to go with my lime green wrap dress and listen to my best friend, Josephine Styles, at the same time. That’s what I like about Phil. I don’t have to beg him to take me out or buy me a thoughtful gift. It was his idea for us to hang out in the city tonight and he even picked out this new dress for me to wear. He is a wonderful boyfriend. But just because he hasn’t given me an engagement ring, I have to listen to Mama’s mouth and Josephine’s mouth. They harangue me constantly but I don’t pass the stress on to Phil. He and I agreed that as soon as Saundra moved out of the house, it would be my time. Phil said that back in his hometown of Dayton, he saw many relationships fall apart simply because two grown women could not share the same space in peace. I agreed to wait for him to handle his business with his daughter. I’m happy with the way things are. So, that’s that. Or it should be.
Josephine and Mama think that Phil is dragging his feet for some unknown reason and that I should push his back up against the wall and drag a wedding date out of him. That’s crazy. I’ve waited six years and Saundra is getting married in a few months. Why should I start some mess now?
Even now, instead of helping me pick out the shoes, Josephine is sitting on the side of my bed, running her mouth, “Sweetie, when is his daughter getting married?”
I waved my hand airily, trying to look unconcerned. “In June.”
“So, why can’t Phil buy your engagement ring now?”
“We’re both always so busy. The subject just hasn’t come up.”
Her voice rose. “Hasn’t come up?”
I shushed her. “Keep your voice down. Mama is trying to get some sleep.”
Josephine lives down the street with her husband and two handsome teenaged sons. I love her but right now she was creating negative energy.
“I’m surprised your mother can sleep at all with her only child dangling on a hook for the past six years.” Josephine slipped off her shoes and put her feet up on the ottoman.
“Why should I rush this man down the aisle, Josephine? I’ve never been interested in having children. I’m not feeling insecure because I always know where he is, and we’re only going to City Hall when we do tie the knot. We can just jump up and do that any time.”
