Killing Them Softly (18 page)

"Hello, Devin, it’s Avonte."

"Avonte," I said, more than surprised to hear her voice. It had been a couple of months since the last time we spoke, and she gave me the impression that it was over between us. "It’s been a long time."

Avonte laughed a little, but it was a nervous laugh. "I know it’s been a while since I talked to you, but you were on my mind, so I decided to give you a call. You know, see how you were doing."

"I’ve been all right, I guess. How’ve you been?"

"I’m okay."

There was a few seconds of silence, and then Avonte said, "I’m not bothering you, am I?"

"Not at all. What’s up?" I asked, unsure of the reason for her call, and anxious to know what she wanted.

"Are you busy right now?"

"Not especially."

"I need to talk to somebody, so I was wondering if you could come by here."

"Where is here?"

"My apartment."

"I didn’t know you had an apartment." The last time we got together, she was still with her husband. Avonte told me where she lived, and I told her that I would be there in an hour or so.

"I’ll see you when you get here," Avonte said, and hung up the phone.

On the way over there, I thought about the tone of her voice. The tone of her voice told me that there was something she needed or wanted, and it wasn’t just sex. Sex, I was down for, but I was in no mood for any drama. I had enough of my own.

It had been a week since the police came to the office investigating Winston’s murder. As soon as I heard that he had been murdered, I knew Qianna was involved. I sat there petrified while they asked me questions, hoping that the truth wasn’t written all over my face. "I understand that you and Mr. Hunter were friends, Mr. James," the detective began. "When was the last time you saw, Mr. Hunter?"

"He and I had drinks at a place not far from here called Bar 89."

"I’m not familiar with the place. Where is it?"

"It’s on Mercer Street, between Spring and Broome."

"While you were there with him, did you see him talking to anybody there?"

"No," I answered quickly.

"How long were you there?"

"We had a couple of drinks, and I left him there. I can’t believe he’s dead," I threw in, partly because it was true. There was a part of me that didn’t want to believe that Qianna had killed Winston. But when the detective told me that Winston’s body was found tied to the bed with his throat cut, I knew that she had done it. "Can you tell me where you went after you left Mr. Hunter that night?"

"I came back here to catch up on some work."

"Did anybody see you?"

"Yes, I had to sign in with security when I got back to the building. And one of the cleaning crew saw me while I was here."

"What time was this?"

"I got back here about seven—seven-thirty, and I was here until some time after ten."

After the detective left the building, I waited a while before I left the building. I drove around for a while, before I stopped at a pay phone and called Qianna. "What did you do?"

"Who the fuck is this?"

"It’s Devin."

"Oh, what’s up, Devin? I didn’t recognize the number."

"I’m calling from a pay phone. What did you do?"

"I don’t know what you’re talkin’ ’bout. I do a lot of shit."

"Winston! What did you do to Winston?"

"You mean the freaky fuck that was fuckin’ your wife?"

"What—what did you say?"

"I said the freaky fuck that was fuckin’ your wife."

"Never mind that. What did you do?"

"You know what I did, Devin. I gave your boy what he deserved."

"You gonna get us both locked up."

"For what?"

"You know for what! The cops just left here. They know I was with him that night. Suppose somebody saw me talking to you?"

"What if they did? All they can say is that you talked to me and then you left. Nobody saw me leavin’ there with him."

"I don’t like this."

"So what if you don’t. Look, nigga, you said it yourself; cops got a rape kit and his DNA, right? Once they match his DNA it’s a done deal."

"And what happens then?"

"What you think gonna happen then? They’ll think he killed her."

"And you don’t think that they’ll think that I killed him for it?"

"No. Cops aren’t gonna think you had nothing to do with it. Not unless they think you had sex with him first. Listen, Devin, you don’t know what that mutha fucka was doin’. He would wait until you left, and then he was fuckin’ her after she passed out from them damn sleeping pills."

All of a sudden, something that Taye said to me once began to make sense. When Taye found out that I had sex with Sandra, she said that I forced myself on her.

"Stop lying to me!"
I remembered Taye yelling that night. "I called your office—more than once; and never got an answer. Then you come home at ridiculous hours of the morning, do what you want to do to me, and run to the shower."

"What are you talkin’ about?"

"You forced yourself on me!"

"What are you talking about?" I had never forced myself on her, so at the time I thought that Taye was really losing her mind. Now it all made sense.

Winston always did have a thing for Taye, but I would have never thought that he would have sex with her while she wasn’t conscience. That shit was disgusting. No matter how disgusting I thought it was, I knew that once the police matched his DNA to the rape kit, I would be a suspect.

Yesterday, I got a call from the detective assigned to my case, asking if I would mind coming in to talk about the case. The detective told me that they were able to match the DNA sample to Winston.

"I don’t know what to say. I mean, I would have never thought he would do something like that. Are you sure it was him?"

"We were able to confirm from some of your neighbors that they had seen his car parked outside your house on several occasions late at night, when you weren’t there."

"And the robbery?"

"We think that it was just to cover up the murder."

It was lucky for me that I had an alibi for the night of his murder, or I would probably be in jail right now.

When I got to the address that Avonte had given me, I was a bit surprised at how nice a building it was. I went up to her apartment. "Hello, Devin," Avonte said when she opened the door.

"How’re you doing, Avonte? You didn’t sound too good on the phone."

"I don’t know where to begin," Avonte said, and led me into the living room.

"Start at the beginning."

"It’s about Qianna."

"I didn’t know that you were still dealing with her."

Avonte looked away. "I kept seeing her after I stopped seeing you. She’s like a drug to me. I can’t seem to get enough of her."

Knowing how good the sex was, and remembering how Avonte used to get off on Qianna, I wasn’t mad at her. A little jealous, but I wasn’t mad about it.

"Why are you telling me this now, Avonte?"

"I’m afraid of her."

"Did she do something to you?"

"Not to me, she killed my husband."

"What?" I said, and thought,
Not you too
. "You had her kill your husband?"

Avonte looked like me like I had lost my mind. "No. I would never do anything like that. I had nothing to do with it. I told her that I had signed a prenup and he was cutting off my money," she said quickly.

"You need to slow down, Avonte," I said, and loosened my tie. "You need to tell me everything."

For the next hour, Avonte told me the truth about—about everything. How her husband told her that he was seeing another woman, and that’s why she went to Puerto Rico.

Avonte said she came home to find the other woman in her house, and she moved out after that. She told me that the entire time we were together, she was separated and getting a healthily check every month. "Why didn’t you tell me all this then?"

"I was confused and hurt after Tyrone did that to me. The things he said made me feel worthless. I wanted you to want me for me. Not because I had money."

"I understand you feeling that way, but I thought we had gotten past that, but I guess I was wrong. For a while I thought I was in love with you, Avonte. But I was just something for you to do; something to ease your pain."

"I’m sorry, Devin."

"You don’t have to apologize."

She went on to explain that her husband had hired a private detective, and she showed me the pictures that he had taken of us together. "Where’d you get these?"

"Qianna got them the night she killed him."

"Are you a suspect?"

"No. I told you that I didn’t have anything to do with any of that."

"So what’s the problem?"

"I’m scared to death of her!" Avonte yelled, and started to cry.

"So what do you want me to do about it?"

"I’m sorry, Devin. I shouldn’t have bothered you with this. It’s my problem, and I’ll have to work it out for myself."

Just then, I heard what sounded like a key hitting the lock. I looked at Avonte; her eyes were wide open in terror.

The door opened and Qianna walked in. She stopped in her tracks when she saw me. "What you doin’ here?"

"Hello, Qianna," Devin said, and stood up. Just the sight of Qianna standing there had me scared. "I just came to say hello."

"I thought you said that he didn’t know where you lived?" Qianna asked me.

"I—I asked him to come by. I needed somebody to talk to." I said. I wanted to run out of there, and put all this behind me. But once again, I was frozen by my fear; unable to move, and barely able to speak.

"Talk about what?" Qianna demanded to know.

"Nothing in particular," I said softly. "I just needed to talk to somebody, that’s all."

"Why you shakin’?"

I wanted to say something. Tell her the truth—that I was afraid of her, and that I didn’t want to see her anymore. But I couldn’t.

Devin started moving toward the door. "Look, Avonte, I’m outta here. Call me if you need to talk some more."

"No, Devin. Please don’t go."

"That’s right, Devin. What’s you’re rush?" Qianna asked, and stepped in front of him. "Since you’re here, you might as well relax, have some fun. You know, like we used to. You remember how good we were together."

"I got places to be. I don’t have time for this now," Devin told her, and he tried to go around her.

"What you talkin’ ’bout? You always got time to get this pussy. You know how much you love gettin’ this pussy." Qianna looked at me. "You want some of this dick, don’t you, Avonte?"

All I could do was nod my head. Sex was the last thing on my mind, but I definitely didn’t want him to leave. I didn’t want to be alone with her. After coming here and finding Devin, I didn’t know what she would do.

"Well I don’t. I told you, Qianna. I’m through with you," Devin said.

"So you too good to get this pussy now; that what you sayin’?"

"Not too good, just not interested."

"Well, get the fuck out then. You ain’t the only dick in town," Qianna said angrily.

Once again, Devin started for the door. "Please, Devin, don’t go. Don’t leave me—’’

"What’s goin’ on here?" Qianna looked at Devin, and then she turned to me. "You told him, didn’t you, bitch?"

I looked at her but didn’t answer.

"Answer me!" she screamed.

"Yes!" I screamed back. "I had to talk to somebody. I’m just so scared."

"What you scared of?" Qianna demanded. "I told you nothin’ was gonna come of that shit."

"She’s scared of you. I know you crazy, but you ain’t that far gone that you can’t see that she’s scared of you." Devin said, and came to stand by me.

"So you told this nigga. This nigga? Bitch, please. This the last mutha fucka you needed to be talkin’ to ’bout that shit. He ain’t gonna care. Not after what he did."

"What are you talking about?" I needed to know. I looked at Devin. "What did you do?"

"Nothing, Avonte. It’s not important now."

"Oh, you didn’t tell her about your shit, did you, nigga?"

"Shut up, Qianna."

"Fuck you, nigga. I say what the fuck I wanna say, and ain’t shit you can do to stop me."

"What did you do, Devin?" I asked again.

"Ask him about his wife, Avonte," Qianna urged.

"What about her?"

"Nothing, Avonte. It’s nothing at all, nothing for you to be concerned with." Devin stepped toward Qianna. "You need to shut the fuck up."

"While you here spillin’ your guts to this nigga ’bout me, he ain’t tell you ’bout his shit."

"What happened to your wife, Devin?"

"She’s dead!" Qianna said.

"I said shut up!"

"You killed your wife?"

"No!"

"No, the bitch nigga paid me to kill her."

"Oh my God." I started backing away from the two of them. Tears ran down my cheeks. He was just as bad as she was. The both of them were murderers.

Qianna grabbed me by the arm. "Where you goin’?"

"Let me go," I said, and jerked my arm away from her. "Both of you need to leave."

"I ain’t goin’ no damn where," Qianna said, and came toward me. I backed further away.

"Just get out!" I screamed. My head and my heart were pounding. I could barely see straight.

"Leave her alone."

Devin grabbed Qianna by the arm. "Get your mutha fuckin’ hands off me, nigga."

"Get out! Both of you get out of here! I never wanna see either of you ever again!"

"Fuck that! Ungrateful bitch. Both of y’all ungrateful mutha fuckas. It ain’t goin’ down like this. Not today," Qianna said, and grabbed me with both hands.

"Let her go, Qianna," Devin said, and pulled her off of me.

Qianna broke free from Devin and swung at him. She reached in her purse and came out with a knife. She swung the knife at Devin, and cut him on his cheek.

Devin put his hand on his face and felt the blood. "You fuckin’ bitch. I’ll kill you!" he yelled, and started for her.

"Come on wit’ it then!" As he came toward her, Qianna kept swinging that knife. She cut him on the arm, and again on his face, before he grabbed her. Devin reached back and punched her in the face. Qianna went down from the blow, but got right back up.

"Stop it!" I yelled.

"Shut up," Qianna said, and pushed me to the floor. With her attention on me, Devin was able to grab her.

I watched helplessly from the floor as the two of them wrestled for the knife. I knew I should get up and help him, but I couldn’t.

Qianna got her hands free from Devin and she shoved the knife into his chest as he lunged for her. She pulled the knife out, and stuck it in his stomach.

Devin punched her in the face again, but then he fell to his knees.

I screamed.

Qianna backed away from him and watched as Devin’s body shook a little, and he fell on the floor. She turned and looked at me. I saw the fury in her eyes and the blood dripping from her knife. I got up from the floor and ran in the bedroom. I closed the door, but she kicked it open before I could lock it.

"Now I gotta kill you too," Qianna said, and came toward me slowly.

"Please don’t. Don’t kill me. I’ll do anything you say. I can give you money," I pleaded, and backed away from her.

Qianna pushed me down on the bed and crawled on top of me. She grabbed me by the throat and raised her knife.

Just as she was about to kill me, Devin wrapped his tie around her neck. He put his knee in her back and pulled both ends of his tie. Qianna struggled, trying desperately to get free, but Devin was too strong for her.

I laid there on the bed paralyzed by my fear, and watched as Qianna eyes opened wide, and she gasped for air. She dropped the knife, and then her body went limp. Devin let her go, and Qianna fell on top of me. I pushed her off of me and jumped up from the bed.

I looked at Devin. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," I said, and then Devin fell on the bed next to her.

I screamed and shook him. "Devin, Devin. Oh, God, Devin. You can’t die on me, not now." But he was dead. My whole body was shaking and tears were rolling down my cheeks. I backed out of the room slowly, and then ran out of the apartment.