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CHAPTER18
SEVEN YEARS
After cleaning up feathers and hanging the curtains in my bedroom, I tucked Maizy in the bed and covered her with a fuzzy blue blanket. The door remained closed so that I could grill a cheese sandwich and not wake her up with the cacophony of pans rattling around. I relaxed on the sofa and noticed my apartment had that weird smell it gets when it’s been left alone for too long.
The door handle jiggled and I shot up with half a sandwich in my mouth. I tossed the plate on the coffee table and hurried to the door. Naya waved through the peephole and I stepped outside, closing the door behind me.
“Everything okay? I was about to go to work and saw your lights on,” she said.
“Yeah. Maizy’s sleeping in the other room.”
“I’m so glad the little baby’s okay.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “Does Auntie Naya get to see her? I bought her the prettiest dress the other week and—”
“I really don’t know why you do that, Naya. You spoil her way too much.” I chuckled and we sat on the steps together. Her makeup looked like spackle with a heavy coat of foundation and glossed-up lips. She had on a pair of shorts and a button-up blouse, but her real work clothes were underneath. I never understood why men liked that look, because she was prettier without it in her normal clothes. But I guess she had to project an image on stage.
“The dress is adorable,” she answered. “You’re going to flip out when you see it. I picked it up at a thrift store, but it looks exactly like a dress a princess should be wearing.”
“You’re just feeding her obsession,” I said with a distant sigh, staring across the street at the shadow of a man as it disappeared behind one of the buildings.
“I don’t have kids; let me live vicariously through you. Someday, she’ll find out all that fairy-tale stuff about love is just a lie, so let her enjoy it while she can. Did you find your mama?”
That’s when the waterworks came on. Naya hugged my shoulders and I cried against her shimmery white blouse.
“Don’t cry, chickypoo. It’s going to be okay, you just wait and see. I really hate to leave you,” she said guiltily.
“No, it’s fine. I know you’re late. Maybe we can talk tomorrow, but I’m going to be in and out all day.”
“That’s whathesaid,” she purred.
Naya knew how to snap me out of my funk and make me laugh. She blew a kiss and dashed off, leaving me alone on the steps. I had just wiped a crumb from the corner of my mouth when the sound of heavy footsteps approached from below. A long shadow emerged on the walkway and a man came into view. He slowly ascended the stairs and I leaned to the left to see if it was one of Naya’s lovesick puppies who often swung by when she was at work.
Officer McNeal rounded the corner and smiled.
“Alexia Knight,” he said from the landing below. “Have you been dodging me?”
“How come you’re never in uniform?” I asked skeptically, looking at his black pants and shirt. McNeal looked like a cop, but it didn’t feel legit, if that makes any sense. He looked forty, but something about his grey eyes seemed much older.
“I’m a detective—we’re not required to wear uniforms.”
“So why did you introduce yourself as an officer?”
He threw his left foot up on the step and leaned on the railing. “Your father is in some serious trouble and we need to locate him.”
“You know about the kidnapping?”
His brow arched.Apparently he didn’t. “Nelson stole something that’s extremely valuable, and now the owner wants it back. He threatened to hunt down Nelson’s family, and we’re just looking to track your father down before this escalates out of hand.”
Then a light bulb switched on. “You’re not a cop, are you?” I rose to my feet with each foot on a different step. “You’reworking with the man my dad owes, aren’t you? What did he do? Because he kidnapped my mother.”
McNeal looked me over and cocked his head to the side. “It doesn’t seem like he tookeverythingof value.”
The remark confused me, but I quickly realized McNeal might see me as a way to bait my father.
“You think he cares about me?” I laughed but the sound quickly died as I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m not even his real daughter. He left us years ago and doesn’t give a damn about my life.”
McNeal drummed his fingers impatiently on the railing. “Your father is a thief.”
“What did he steal, a few grand? Write it off.”
