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I heard sighs, whimpers, and bits of prayer coming from Mama’s room all night long and went in several times to rock her frail body back and forth until she went back to sleep.
She was too depressed to get out of bed the next morning. I knew something was wrong when I didn’t hear her bustling about right after sunrise. She was just lying there in her bed, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling.
“Mama, are you all right?”
“No, Jackie. If they lock you up, I ain’t never gonna be all right no more.”
The dazzling March sunlight flooded her room through the Venetian blinds and illuminated every wrinkle on her face. When had her cheeks started to sink in? How had all the light fled from her eyes so quickly? She looked very elderly and completely beaten.
“Mama, please don’t say that. I’m going to need you by my side to get through this,” I whispered hoarsely, attempting to control a sudden fear that my mother might die of heartbreak if she didn’t sit up and put her feet on the floor.
21
TIFFANY NIXON STRIKES AGAIN
Paul couldn’t believe any of this. I called him as soon as Mama got up and started moving around. He took the day off and spent it at my apartment trying to console me, but I was inconsolable. It didn’t help matters that once again, I was the star of Tiffany Nixon’s column that morning.
WILL THE LAW APPLY TO BLUE?
by Tiffany Nixon
Ms. Jacqueline Blue has been suspended WITH PAY from her job as senior editor at Welburn Books, Inc., the 100-year-old publishing firm owned by the family of murdered socialite Annabelle Welburn Murray.
Keith Williams, attorney for Ms. Blue, responded with a terse “no comment” when asked about the suspension.
The authors in her care speak very highly of the beautiful and talented Ms. Blue. Hip-hop novelist Jamal Hunt said yesterday, “The only reason why I signed a contract with Welburn Books was to work with Jackie. She fights hard for Black authors who don’t get the same amount of marketing dollars, foreign rights sales, or point-of-sale display units as their white counterparts.”
Celebrated romance writer Willow Van Silver dissolved into tears when told of Ms. Blue’s suspension. “I’ll take to my bed and not write another word until they bring my beloved Jackie back.”
However, an executive at Welburn Books, who prefers to remain unnamed, expressed dismay that the temperamental Ms. Blue has not been arrested. “Although Jackie had a real chip on her shoulder and was constantly getting into fights with people in the industry, I was still shocked to see her on television running away from the murder scene. Why hasn’t she been arrested and charged with this terrible crime?”
Why indeed?
We were huddled together in anxiety on my sofa. Paul read the article out loud and then threw the paper across the room. None of it hit the opposite wall. The pages just flew up in the air and fluttered around the room in a black-and-white shower before landing in various places on my pale green carpet.
“What the fuck is her problem?” he screamed in frustration.
The tears streamed down my cheeks and I hugged a cushion tightly to my chest.
Paul gathered me in his arms and rubbed my face gently. “Don’t cry, baby,” he said. “I’m going to see you through this, no matter what.”
But I wasn’t crying out of fear that Paul was going to split. I was crying because Tiffany Nixon was the first person who had ever called me “beautiful.”
22
VICTOR
I had no intention of just sitting around waiting for the ax to fall on my head. It was time to hit the streets and start doing some detective work. The first thing I did was head back to The Dakota. The doorman, a middle-aged white man with thinning hair, watched my approach with suspicion. I gave him a smile but he remained stoic.
“Sir, my name is Jacqueline Blue.”
“I know who you are.”
“Okay. What is your name?”
“Walter.”
“Walter, I need your help. What happened to Mrs. Murray was terrible but I didn’t do it. I figure that someone else she knew and trusted had to enter the building after I left.”
