Chapter 28
C
HARLENE
C
harlene sat motionless on her couch, watching the flame flicker back and forth on the candle she'd lit as she listened to Geneva tell a story so real it gave her flashbacks and chills at the same time. When Geneva's number had appeared across Charlene's phone screen, she'd known right away that the call wasn't going to yield anything good. Ever since Vivana's jailhouse interview yesterday, things had been turned upside down, and now they were about to do a backward flip.
“I know it sounds crazy,” Geneva said, “but, Charlene, I promise you, what I'm saying is true. It was as if I was there and I saw everything happening just as it surely did the night Johnny was murdered, and I know without a doubt in my mind that Vivana didn't kill him.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I saw her.”
Charlene's hands started shaking and her mouth turned so dry she began to cough.
“Are you okay?” Geneva asked.
“Um, yes. I'm fine. I had a tickle in my throat.” Charlene was afraid to ask Geneva to continue, but Geneva resumed her story and Charlene's blood pressure began to rise.
“Like I said, I heard the sound of the gun, even though the killer used a silencer. When I was finally able to walk into the kitchen, I saw Johnny's body lying on the ground, and it was awful, just awful.”
Charlene didn't know if Geneva was trying to play mind games or if the woman was experiencing a mental collapse brought on by stress, but one thing was sure, and that was the fact that Charlene was more nervous right now than when Shartell had sent her the cryptic text. Charlene quickly tried to think about what Geneva's angle might be, but she drew a blank. Geneva wasn't the type of person who played games. She was kindhearted and honest. She was a woman of integrity whom Charlene had great respect for. But right now that woman of integrity had Charlene petrified. As she listened to Geneva on the other end of the phone, Charlene knew she couldn't sit in the dark, cold and afraid. If Geneva had hard-core evidence against her, she needed to know. “Not to be too blunt, but why are you calling me with this information?” She held her breath.
“Because I want to get your legal advice before I contact Leslie Sachs, first thing Monday morning.”
If Geneva knew that Charlene was the real killer, Charlene wondered why Geneva didn't just come right out and say it? Why toy with her nerves by threatening to go to Vivana's lawyer. She knew the only way to find the answers to her questions was to ask. “Who killed Johnny?”
“I don't know.”
“But you said you saw the killer.”
“I did, but she was hidden by a large shadow. I know she was slim, she was wearing all black, and she had on a black hat.”
Charlene thought she was going to pass out. She'd dressed in all black when she'd left the drug-laced cupcake on Vivana's doorstep. But a few hours later when she was preparing to go kill Johnny, she'd decided to tuck her asymmetrically cut bob under a small black fedora.
“Wait,” Geneva said. “It just came to me. The killer was wearing a fedora.”
Charlene closed her eyes as her stomach turned in knots.
How in the hell does she know this?
Charlene's slim frame had been dressed in all black, she'd been wearing a fedora, and the center light in Johnny's kitchen had been dimmed, which had cast a shadow over the room.
“Charlene, are you still there?”
“Yes, I'm still here.”
“I don't think the new evidence that Leslie Sachs has is concrete; otherwise, she would've already presented it and Vivana would be free. I think she staged the interview to draw out the real killer in hopes she'll slip up. The way she looked into the camera during the interview, it was almost as if she was talking directly to the killer, trying to send her a message. I wouldn't be surprised if she knows who it is.”
Charlene knew that Geneva was right, because she'd felt as though Leslie had looked through the camera yesterday afternoon and positively identified her as the killer. And now Charlene knew for sure why Leslie wanted to have coffee with her Monday morning. The shrewd attorney wanted her to slip up. Leslie would most likely engage her in a conversation about the trial, and ask questions that would tie in to whatever new evidence she'd uncovered, in hopes that Charlene would make a mistake and incriminate herself.
“I know this sounds crazy,” Geneva continued, “but I believe I had the dream for a reason, and I believe that the details I saw, along with whatever Ms. Sachs has, will prove Vivana's innocence. And although the thought of Vivana roaming free scares the daylights out of me, the thought that a cold-blooded killer got away with murder while an innocent woman sits in jail, is something I can't live with.”
Charlene knew she couldn't let Geneva talk to Leslie, at least not before she did. “Geneva, I'll meet with Leslie first thing Monday morning and I'll talk to her myself.”
“You will?”
“Yes, and as a matter of fact I'll ask her to meet me for coffee, that way she and I can have an informal chat. We used to work together many years ago, so I'm sure that, in addition to the fact that I'm an elected city official and a concerned resident, will warrant a meeting.”
“You would do that for me?”
“Of course I will.”
“I'm so, so very thankful for all your help.”
“Don't mention it.”
“There's one other detail I need to tell you . . . oh no . . . hold on, Charlene,” Geneva said.
Charlene could hear Geneva talking to her husband in the background.
“Our lights just went out,” Geneva said in a quick panic. “I'll call you back tomorrow.”
“But Geneva . . .” Before Charlene could ask Geneva what she wanted to tell her, the phone went dead, and Geneva was gone.
If Charlene thought she was worried before, she was disturbed now. Not only was Leslie hot on her trail, Geneva was, too. A thousand things were going through Charlene's mind. “What have I gotten myself into?” she whispered to herself. She looked up when she saw a bright light coming her way.
“I got out of the shower just in time,” Lauren said as she entered the room, guided by the flashlight app on her phone. “I was upstairs getting things together so we can camp out by the fire.” She was holding a set of blankets and sheets under one arm and pillows under the other.
Charlene watched as her daughter placed the blankets and pillows on the floor and then walked over to the fireplace. She placed several logs inside, moved them around with the poker, and made sure the fire was ready to blaze.
“I'll be right back, Mom.”
Charlene moved from the couch to the floor and made a pallet of the sheets and blankets. She looked at the fire that had begun to roar, and she smiled. Just a few minutes ago she'd been worried out of her mind, and now she felt as happy as could be, because her daughter seemed like her old self, and it occurred to her how quickly life could change in the blink of an eye.
“Here we go,” Lauren said as she returned with a bowl of popcorn. “We had cocoa, which is my favorite, and now we'll have popcorn, which is yours. It's from a bag, but it'll have to do for now until the lights come back on and we can use the microwave.”
Charlene looked at her daughter, dressed in her flannel pajamas with her hair tied up in a bright yellow scarf. “Awww, thank you, baby.”
“You're welcome. It's the least I can do for the way I've acted. I'm sorry, Mom.”
“Baby, there's no need to apologize.”
“Yes, there is. You've been nothing but good to me, and you loved me unconditionally, even when I purposely did things that I knew would hurt you. But that never stopped you from being there whenever I needed you. Like now, even though I've messed up royally, and I know you're disappointed in me, you told me right away that I'm welcome to stay here as long as I need to. You're going to help me with the baby, and with medical school. That's more than anyone else would ever do for me.”
“Lauren, I'll do anything, and I mean anything, to protect my family and make sure you have what you need.”
“I know that, and I appreciate you so much.” Lauren's voice trembled, and tears began to fall from her eyes. “Ever since we had that talk while we sipped your cocoa, I've felt so much better. It's like a burden was lifted off my shoulders, and I'm no longer scared of what the future's going to hold because I know that as long as I have my mama by my side, there's nothing I can't achieve. I just hope that I can be half the mother to my child that you are to me. I love you, Mom.”
Charlene's heart was bursting with love. She reached for her daughter and rocked her in her arms the way she used to when Lauren was a child. This holiday had started off with gloom and doom, but right now all Charlene felt was gratitude at the fact that she had her daughter back. And as she held her baby girl, who was on the road to having a child of her own, Charlene knew she had to protect her family at all costs. She could no longer be afraid, and she couldn't hover in fear. Just as she'd taken measures to rid the world of scum like Johnny Mayfield, she was equally determined to make sure the truth about what she'd done never saw the light of dayâand she was prepared to do anything she had to in order to guarantee that happened, by any means necessary.
Chapter 29
D
ONETTA
D
onetta and Phillip sat in silence on opposite ends of the couch because Donetta had told him it would be necessary for what she was about to say.
“Who did you used to be?” Phillip asked, repeating her last statement. “I'm thinking it must be pretty bad if you don't want to be near me?”
“I think it's the other way around. It's you who might not want to be near me.”
“You're starting to worry me. You're a straight shooter who isn't afraid to speak her mind. So tell me what's so bad that we need to sit a mile apart in order for you to tell me.”
Donetta took a deep breath and looked into Phillip's eyes. It was a heartbreaking moment, because she realized in those brief seconds that she loved this man, and that she was also in jeopardy of losing him. She hadn't wanted to tell him under these circumstances, but now her hand had been forced. She'd always stood true about who she was, and now she knew she needed to share it with Phillip. “I'm a trans woman.”
Just as a long pause had hung in the air when she'd told him that she couldn't have children, it returned, and now it was hovering in the space between them. Phillip tilted his head and chuckled light-heartedly. “That's a good one, Donetta. You got me with that one,” he said as his laughter subsided. “Now that you've played a cruel joke on me that almost gave me a heart attack, please tell me what's really going on.”
Donetta didn't blink or flinch. “I told you, I'm a trans woman.”
“This is no longer funny. Stop playing around and tell me what's up.”
Donetta looked deeply into Phillip's eyes. “I'm going to tell you my truth, and some of the things I'm going to say are going to startle you, and might even make you angry . . . but I hope you'll fully listen and hear me.”
“Donetta, this is really starting to upset me.” Phillip eased his body to the edge of the couch as he'd done when he'd been talking to his mother. “Are you involved in drugs?”
“No, I'm not!”
“Then what the hell are you into?”
“I told you. I'm trans.”
Phillip looked deep into her eyes. “You're serious, aren't you?”
“Yes, I was born Donald Eric Pierce.”
“Wait a minute. You're a dude?”
“No, I'm a woman, and as far back as I can remember, I've always known that. Even though I was born into a body that didn't match who I am, I've never, ever questioned that I'm female.”
Phillip shook his head and raised his voice. “This is fuckin' unbelievable. This is some bullshit!”
For the first time since their conversation had started, Donetta began to feel afraid. “If you think you're going to become violent, I want you to know that I'm fully capable of defending myself, and I have weapons in this house that I can use against you.”
Phillip stared at her. “What the fuck are you talking about? First you tell me you're a dude, and now you're threatening me?”
“I'm a woman, and I'm not threatening you. I'm just making you aware.”
“Fuck!” He placed his head in his hands. “I can't believe this . . . we had sex!”
Donetta felt a stab at her heart. “And it was a beautiful experience. And Phillip, you can clearly see that I'm a woman.”
Another pause loomed in the air, and Donetta could see that Phillip was thinking so hard that a crease had formed in the middle of his forehead. She prayed that she wouldn't have to use the pistol she kept under the couch, which she was glad was beneath the section where she was sitting. She didn't know what was going to happen next, but from the look on Phillip's face it wasn't going to be good.
“If you're a transgender woman, and you have a vagina, that means you had surgery?”
Donetta nodded. “A little over a year ago.”
“Why didn't you fucking tell me you used to have a dick?”
“When was I supposed to tell you? In the produce aisle at the grocery store? In the lounge at the prestigious Roosevelt Hotel?”
“How about somewhere in between the time I said hello to you and when we were in your bed!” Phillip yelled. He jumped up from the couch. “I can't believe this shit! You made me believe that you were an honest person. I thought you were special, but you're nothing but a liar. I don't even know who you are.”
Donetta's heart started racing. Phillip didn't strike her as the type of man who would become violent, but life had taught her that anyone was capable of anything, especially once their emotions started running high, as Phillip's were now. She wanted to ask him to calm down, and to remind him that she would defend herself if she had to. But she was afraid to open her mouth, and her good common sense told her that she should keep it shut for now. She watched him as he stood as still as a statue and looked into the fireplace, as if he was transfixed. She desperately wanted him to say something. After what felt like an hour, he finally spoke.
“You tricked me,” he said. “You knew that if you told me the truth from the jump that I wouldn't have anything to do with you, so you lied and manipulated me.”
“That's not true. I never lied to you about who I am, not once. I'm sitting here being honest with you.”
“Don't split hairs, you know exactly what the fuck I'm talking about.”
“I planned to tell you, and the only reason why I didn't before now is because I didn't want to do it in person. But now that we're snowed in, I had no choice. And besides, your mother knows me.”
Phillip glared at her and shook his head.
“My best friend and business partner, Geneva, does your mother's hair. Your mother comes into the salon every week like clockwork. I just saw her yesterday.”
Phillip crossed his arms over his chest. “This is unbelievable. I feel like I'm in the middle of a freakin' nightmare.”
“I'm sorry that you think being with me is a nightmare,” Donetta said, her voice full of hurt.
“Do you always go around doing shit like this? Tricking men into sleeping with you and then dropping the bomb on them?”
Donetta closed her eyes and shook her head. “I've been beaten and raped, and it happened because I told them in person. There's a rule of safety in the community that you should never tell someone in person because it can cost you your life. I'd planned to tell you over the phone after our date last night. But then you came over here andâ”
“You could've told me on the phone when I invited you to the hotel, before it ever got this far.”
“I wanted you to get to know me for who I am, and not some misinformed stereotype.”
Phillip shook his head. “I can't believe I actually jumped in my car and raced over here.”
“I'm still the same person you were laughing with last night and today. I'm the same person you shared your likes and dislikes with, and I'm still opinionated, strong-willed, and a deeply caring woman,” Donetta said in a pleading tone. “I haven't changed one bit, Phillip. I am who I am, through and through.”
“This is crazy. It's so fucked up I don't even know what to say.”
“You can start by trying to understand where I'm coming from.”
“Where you're coming from? How about how I feel? Did it ever occur to you that the entire way you went about this was wrong?” He paused. “Oh wait, you knew you were wrong, and that's why you kept the truth from me.”
“You act like I lured you over here and seduced you. You're the one who pursued me.”
“Only because I thought you were a woman.”
“I am a woman, damn it! And I've been a woman all my life. I've had to walk on eggshells since I was a child, trying to protect myself from other people's anger, rage, and hatred toward me all because of who I am. My father left our family when I was five years old because he hated me, and my mother abandoned me when I was in middle school for the same reason. I came home from school one afternoon and all her things were gone, except for a raggedy note that basically said she didn't want me in her life.
“I caught hell growing up and I had to fight and defend myself almost daily. By the time I graduated from high school I'd had both my arms broken and a total of forty stitches in different places on my body. I even contemplated suicide a few times because I felt so miserable. My grandmother, who raised me, was the only person, besides my best friend, Geneva, who has ever loved me unconditionally.” Just then Donetta's cell phone rang loud with Geneva's ringtone. She knew that her friend was worried about her, and as irony would have it, she was probably calling to see if she'd had a chance to talk to Phillip. Donetta knew she'd have to call Geneva back at another time, with what she now knew was going to be bad news, so she continued on with what she was saying.
“Once my grandmother died, I knew I couldn't continue to live in fear or shame. I'm not saying this to make you feel sorry for me, I'm telling you because it's who I am. I've worked too damn hard and fought too many battles to go back to the sad life I used to live.
“I feel good about myself, and I'm not ashamed of who I am. I'm a good person, I'm kind, I'm generous, I'm smart, I'm hardworking, I'm loving, and I'm one of the most loyal people you'll ever meet. I'm not bragging on myself, I'm just telling you what's true. I think in the short amount of time that we've been together, you've been able to see those qualities.” Donetta swallowed hard as tears began to form in her eyes. “I always trust my heart and my gut because they've never led me wrong. And that's why as crazy as it might sound, my heart and my gut are telling me that you're the one. I've never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. I love you, Phillip.”
Phillip stared at her, but she couldn't read the expression on his face. Finally, he spoke.
“Where is your guest room?”
She answered him softly. “Down the hall, to your right.”
Without saying a word, Phillip turned, walked down the hall, and slammed the door shut behind him. A minute later the lights flickered and the electricity went out. The house fell into blackness as Donetta sat on the couch and cried in the dark.
Â
A few hours later, Donetta was curled up on the floor in front of the fireplace. She'd pulled her heavy comforter and sheets off her bed and had made a makeshift sleeping bag that she was nestled inside. She was thankful for her wood-burning fireplace. When she'd moved into her house a few years ago, she'd hired a contractor to customize her home to the specifications she liked. When she'd told him that she wanted a traditional fireplace over gas logs, he'd looked at her as if she'd told him she wanted to jump out of a moving car. And now, as the orange and red flames kept her nice and toasty without the need for electricity, she wondered if that contractor was freezing in his home without the use of his precious gas logs. She was pulled away from her thoughts when she heard Phillip cough again.
He'd been coughing for the last half hour, and it was getting worse by the minute. She knew he'd probably caught a cold from having walked two miles in the snow, and it didn't help that he was sleeping in a room at the back of the house that Donetta knew had to be freezing. This certainly wasn't how she'd envisioned her evening was going to be. She'd started out with high hopes, and as she and Phillip had dined on the delicious meal she'd made, she'd been happy with the excitement of being snowed in with him. But now she was anything but happy, and her spirits hadn't been this low since her grandmother had passed away.
Donetta wanted to cry every time she thought about the way Phillip had looked at her with disdain after she'd opened up to him. The fact that he'd rather freeze in the guest room than be near her where it was warm, all because he didn't want to be in the same room with her, made her feel even worse. But she knew she couldn't continue to cry or give in to feelings of guilt or pity for herself. It would be hard, but she knew she'd survive this, and in years to come when she looked back on this moment, she'd be able to say that it served to make her stronger.
Ten minutes later, Phillip's cough was progressing, to the point that he sounded as if he was in distress. Donetta knew she had to do something. “He may not want to see me,” she mumbled as she unbundled herself from the comforter, “but this is my house, and I'm going into that room whether he wants me to or not.” She walked back to the guest room and knocked on the door. She waited, but there was no response, only coughing. She knocked again and was met with the same silence. “This is ridiculous,” she said with frustration. Donetta pushed the door open and walked in. “Get up, you need to come to the living room where it's warm.”
“I'm fine where I am,” Phillip said through two loud coughs. He sounded weak, and his voice was stuffy with congestion.
Donetta shook her head. “It's so cold back here I can see my breath. You've caught a cold, Phillip, and you don't need to be back here in this room. It's freezing.”
“I said I'm fine.”
Even though it was dark, Donetta could clearly see him through the light that was streaming in from the window. He looked tired, and it was obvious that he wasn't fine. “You sound like you're gonna cough up a lung.”
“It's nothing a little rest won't cure, so get out of here and leave me alone.”
Donetta was tired of trying to persuade him. She walked over to the bed and quickly snatched the covers away from his body.
Phillip sat up and coughed as if someone had kicked him in his throat. “What the hell's wrong with you?”