At dinner last night, after Lance dragged me back to the table, James started talking about football again—specifically about the rivalry between the Dallas Enforcers and the New York Crushers. The Crushers were slated to play the Enforcers in the Super Bowl.
I return to my office and perform a search for the owner and the coach of the Enforcers. Wow, these guys are diehards. They’re still onboard. I slump into my chair, realizing my theory is too far-fetched. Regina’s probably right. Curt most likely did it. Hopefully, after tomorrow we’ll be one step closer to finding out.
I shut down my computer and prepare for my meeting with the detective and for the callbacks. Monday is going to be a monster.
Chapter 22
Regina
My hands gripping the steering wheel, I sit in my car parked in our driveway. I look up at the living room window, glad to see it’s dark. That means Taylor has gone to bed, because he’s mad at me. If he weren’t, he’d be sitting on the porch, watching for my car. It’s better this way. I’m too tired to fight.
I turn toward my purse. The thought of the gun inside unsettles me. I dismiss that thought and lift my purse off the passenger seat, surprised at how much heavier it is. Cookie thinks the gun is a .22, but it couldn’t be. It’s at least a .38.
I get out of the car, my eyes scanning the block, hoping I won’t have to put a cap in anyone. It’s late, and the neighborhood isn’t as safe as it was ten years ago when Taylor and I moved here. But I don’t even know if the gun is loaded, and if it is, I’m not sure if I’d know how to shoot it. I’m sure if someone were attacking me, I’d figure it out in a hurry.
I head to the front door, unlock it, and creep inside, not wanting to wake the sleeping giant. I shut and lock the door, and my keys clatter to the hardwood floor. Dammit!
“We’re in the kitchen, Regina.”
My heart pounds, the throbbing filling my ears. I lean my back against the front door, tempted to leave. What is Taylor doing up, and who the hell is ‘we’?
“Regina?”
“I heard you, Tay.” I snatch my keys off the floor and walk into the kitchen, pushing through my anxiety. Standing in the doorway, my gaze sweeps over the judge, juror, and executioner boring holes through me. “What’s going on?”
Taylor rises and stands between my mother and stepfather, sitting at the breakfast nook. “That’s what we want to know. Have a seat, Regina.”
Immobilized, I remain standing. My mother slams her hand on the table, and I slink into the chair, feeling like I did the day she caught Marlene and me smoking in our garage. She sent Marlene home, and I was grounded for a month. I was ten, and Robert was eighteen. He had already left for college. I begged my mother not to tell him. I never wanted to let Robert down. He was a health nut and didn’t believe in smoking, drugs, or drinking to excess.
“Where is it, Regina?” My mother’s frown turns into a grimace of disappointment.
I wrap my arms around my purse like a mama bear protecting her cub. “Where’s what?”
Taylor returns to his seat and folds his arms over his chest. “Where’s the gun you took from your mother’s house?”
Damn, they know. I look at Curt, and he averts his eyes. Snitch. “It’s right here.” I reach into my purse and set the gun on the table. The room plunges into momentary silence.
“What’s wrong with you, girl?”
“Robert is what’s wrong with me, Ma.”
“What does Robert have to do with you stealing my gun out of my closet?”
My brows shoot to my hairline. “Your gun? I thought it was Curt’s.”
My stepfather stands and goes to the bay window. He peers out of it, his back to us. His shoulders rise and fall, and it dawns on me that he’s crying. Through his soft sobs he says, “Lawd, Regina, I told you I got rid of the gun I bought that time the house was broken into. I don’t know why you hate me so much. I’ve tried to be a father to you and Robert, a good husband to your mama. But it seems like nothin’ I do is good enough.”
I get up from the table and stand next to my stepfather. Guilt surges while I watch his tears fall into the sink. “I’m sorry, Curt.”
“Taylor told me you and that white girl got me on a suspect list. Lawd knows I never would’ve hurt Robert. I didn’t kill him!”
I reach out to touch him, but he jerks away from me and storms out of the kitchen. “I’ll be in the car.”
The car? I didn’t see my mother’s Buick. My eyes lock with hers, and she nods knowingly. “I parked around the corner. Sit down, Gina.”
Humbled, I flop down at the table. “Ma, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your gun.”
“I got it after Robert was killed. We didn’t know if whoever killed him would come after me or you or Curt. I wanted to have protection. Why would you think Curt hurt Robert?”
“Because … because.” My gaze shifts from my mother to Taylor. “Because Curt came into my room the week Robert was home. He was drunk. He thought I was you, and he tried to have sex with me. I believe that Robert saw and heard what was going on and that he confronted Curt. I thought Curt panicked and shot him.” Emotionally spent, I fall back in my chair, waiting for my mother and Taylor to explode, to run out to my mother’s Buick and pummel Curt.
Instead, Taylor and my mother share a look. My mother’s eyes soften, and she says, “We know, Regina. When I got home from church, I went upstairs to change clothes, and I noticed my closet had been turned upside down. I asked Curt if he had gone through it. He said he hadn’t. The first thing I thought of is that someone burglarized the house while Curt was asleep. I looked for my gun, and it was gone. I was going to call the police, and that’s when Curt told me you and Cookie had stopped by. I was surprised because you said you were coming to church. Then he told me you got sick while you were at the house, so I called Taylor, and he said you had told him you were going to church. We got to talking, and that’s when he told me you had Curt on a suspect list. It wasn’t too hard to figure things out after that. I talked to Curt, and he told me about coming into your room. I’m sorry that happened, Regina, and you should have told me.”
“I didn’t want to upset you, and I knew he only did it because he was drunk.”
“You still should have told me. Anyway, Curt said that when we came back to the house, the night we had the party at the Crystal Ballroom, he pulled Robert aside to ask him why Robert was angry with him. Robert told him he saw him come out of your room and that he heard you crying. He said he explained everything to Robert. Robert told him that he was going to check with you. Unfortunately, he was killed before he had a chance to do so. Curt didn’t kill your brother, Regina.”
Relief washes over me. I pass my hands over my face, wondering what to do next. Gretchen and I meet with the detective in the morning. Now we don’t have any new evidence. Taylor rises and stands behind me. He rests his hands on my shoulders. “Baby, now do you understand why I didn’t want you trying to play detective? You have to stop this now. Do you even know if the gun was loaded or not?”
“Thank goodness it isn’t,” my mother says.
“What if it had been, and it was dropped? Someone could have gotten hurt. What if the police had stopped you and found the gun on you? Regina, you don’t think things through.”
I feel like an idiot. They’re right. I need to let this obsession go. I need to get off this train to nowhere. If I hadn’t gotten the audition, I never would have started up with this. I had buried my feelings so deep, I thought they’d never surface.
“Ma, I’m sorry for everything. You guys are right. I’m going to let it go and just live my life.”
Loud applause fills the kitchen. I force a smile, and my mother and Taylor hug. They extend their arms to me, and I join them in a group hug.
******
Blowing at the white bubbles surrounding my brown body, I reminisce about summers in Shady Grove. One year for my birthday, my mother bought me a bubble wand. We had a blast with that thing. Bubb
les were everywhere. I had the time of my life. I shut my eyes and try to stay in the present. Veronica was right—I daydream a lot. I rarely take baths, but after today, I needed one. It feels good to soak.
My mother and stepfather left an hour ago, and Taylor has to be at the construction site early tomorrow, so he’s in bed. My eyes shift to my phone on the tub edge. I called Gretchen to tell her the latest, but I got her voicemail. I didn’t tell her that I’m bowing out of the investigation. I need to speak to her directly, try to make her understand. I know she’s going to be disappointed. Maybe it’s for the best. I can’t do this anymore. My mother and Taylor are going to be through with me if I don’t drop this pursuit. And Curt is beyond done. I saw him in a different light tonight. He’s right. All he’s ever done is try to be a father to Robert and me. I think that’s why I’ve resented him all these years. In my mind, Robert was the man of the house—my father. When Curt came into the picture, I felt like he was trying to replace Robert, and I wasn’t having any of that. I’ve never given him a chance. Maybe I should start now, if it’s not too late.
My phone vibrates, and I crane my neck to see who’s calling. Matchmaker. I grab my phone and answer.
“What’s up, Gina?”
“Didn’t you listen to my message?”
“No. I saw I missed your call, so I just called back.”
“You should listen to it. I don’t want to have to go over
everything again.”
“Tell me something.”
“Real quick. The gun is my mother’s. She and Curt were at my house when I got home.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes. Because you left her closet a mess, she knew somebody had searched it. I was ambushed by them and your father. The gun belongs to my mother. Curt didn’t kill Robert.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive, and I’m done with the investigation.”
Dead silence.
“Did you hear me?”
“You can’t just give up like that. What about Gretchen and your meeting with the police?”
“Let it go, Cookie. Someone could have gotten hurt tonight. What if the gun had been loaded and went off?”
“I didn’t think of that. Anyway, don’t let my father and your mother and Curt bully you. Sleep on it, Gina.”
“It’s over, Cookie. I need to go. Somebody on Facebook Messenger is trying to contact me. I’ll touch base with you tomorrow. Thanks for all your help.” Before she can get another word out, I hang up. My eyes lock on the miniature face stuck at the bottom of my phone. I click and read the message. It’s from Lorraine, Robert’s ex.
Hey, Regina. I didn’t know I was friending you. Dang, it’s been forever. Over twenty years. You’re so pretty and, girl, I’m old. Fifty! Can you believe it? I have a son. His name is Calvin. How’s your mom? We need to catch up. So much time has passed. The last time I saw you was at Robert’s party. I was a mess back then. I still miss him. Call me. I’m at 626-555-4237. Still in Shady Grove. West side. I’m not sure if you heard, but that girl you used to hang with, Marlene, OD’ed. Anyway, call me. P.S. I can’t believe how much you’ve filled out. You used to be so small. You’re killing it in that video with those hips of yours, and I love all your Facebook photos. I’ve liked most of them. Gotta go.
Hmm. She sounds chipper. Video and photos … pictures and videos. That reminds me—I left the album and video in the car. The least I can do is look at them. Who knows? Maybe I’ll see something important. Argh! Stop it, Regina. Let it go. I set down my phone and slam my hand in the water. I can’t let it go. I just can’t. I have to keep going, for Robert. He reached out to Gretchen in her dreams. That I know is true. I can’t let him down. I have to find out who killed him. I just have to be more strategic. And right now, I need to get out of this tub, put on some clothes, and get that video and photo album out of the car.
Chapter 23
Gretchen
Michael Jackson’s “Smooth Criminal” blasts through the living room. The pulsing music and the heat of our Shady Grove house packed tight with excited partygoers make me want to go outside for air. But Craig, my road dawg from around the corner, is in my ear, filling me in on the latest street gossip, mostly what people are saying about the jewelry store heist. I listen to him while my gaze shifts between my stepfather and my mother dancing on one side of the room, and Regina and Marlene chatting each other up on the opposite side. Before I go back to Dallas, I plan to get to the bottom of what happened last night. That asshole is going to answer for what he did to Regina. I can’t believe she’s been quiet about the incident. But she’s like me. She’ll do whatever it takes to protect my mother. She knows that whatever she tells me, I won’t have any choice but to tell our mother, especially with Curt involved.
Craig nudges me, and I answer him. “Man, I was nowhere near Schwartz’s place when all that went down.”
“You’re preaching to the preacher, Robert. I’m just telling you what people are saying.”
“I don’t want to hear it. I have more pressing matters to deal with.”
Craig nods and then shakes his head. “I saw those two knuckleheads at the Ballroom.”
“Manny’s trying to send a message. I’m behind in my payments.”
“Damn, Bobby.”
“Don’t worry. I’m gonna pay him off, and then I’m done. That’s my New Year’s resolution.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Man, you’re living the dream. Don’t screw it up.”
The music stops, and Curt approaches. He scrubs his face with his calloused hands and says, “Robert, can I talk to you for a minute, outside?”
Before I can answer him, the music starts up again. Craig’s girlfriend whisks him to the center of the room, where Craig’s younger brother Ron is busting a move with his girlfriend.
“Robert?”
“I heard you, Curt. I need to talk to you too. I wanted to wait for a better time, but I guess like they say, there’s no time like the present.” I head to the front door, and he follows me. We step outside, and a shrill whistling noise makes me wince. Fireworks explode an array of purple, gold, and orange colors through the night sky.
“Happy New Year, Robert and Curt.”
We wave at our nosy next-door neighbor. “Happy New Year, Miss Winter,” we say.
“And happy birthday, Robert.”
“Thank you. The music isn’t too loud is it?”
“It’s your birthday. Don’t worry about it. I can’t wait to see you in the Super Bowl.”
“You and me both,” I say. She gives me a thumbs-up and goes back inside. Thank goodness, because she’s like stenographer—she doesn’t miss a word spoken. I turn to Curt. “So what’s up?”
He shifts his weight and says, “Why you mad at me? You’ve been mean muggin’ me all night,” he says.
“Curt, I know what you did.”
His beady eyes widen. “Lawd, what are you talkin’ ’bout?”
“I’m talking about you coming out of Regina’s room last night. I’m talking about her cries that cut through me like a razor. It took everything in me not to lose it. But I controlled myself because of my mother. I wanted to make sure I knew the whole story before I went to her.”
“I’m not sure what Regina told you, but I didn’t do nothin’ to her.”
“She hasn’t told me anything, but I know what I saw. And I plan to make things right.”
“Robert, what you saw was a drunk fool. Lawd knows I was drunk last night. I thought I was goin’ into my room. I thought Regina was your mama. I swear to you. Regina and I talked about it, and I apologized to her. And I’ve sworn off drinkin’. She doesn’t know it, but I’m going to join AA.”
My eyes roam his length, taking in his body movements, his crumpled suit. I flash back to the day he came to our house. My mother had found his carpet cleaning business in a local paper. He showed up in blue coveralls with two workers, ready to transform our dirty carpet into something “magnif
icent.” He and my mom hit it off right away. I stood in the cut, watching him flirt with her. It didn’t sit right with me. My father had been dead for four years, and that was the first time any man had ever been in our house. Regina clung to my side while I fixed a narrowed, suspicious gaze on him. He did what he said he was going to do, and he gave my mother a discount.
A week later he called. I didn’t understand why he was calling because the carpet was still clean. My mother talked to him for a long time. When she spoke to him, her tone was different, almost lyrical. He made her something she hadn’t been in a long time—happy. That phone call led to a date, and another date and before we knew it, she was introducing him to us as her boyfriend. Regina ran from the room crying, “You not my daddy. Robert is my daddy!” It took me an hour to calm her down. Seems like he’s still making her cry.
It also seems like he may be telling the truth. If he had put his hands on Regina, she would have said something by now. And I haven’t seen him drink tonight, which is totally out of character for him. I still believe something went down in her room, and it’s time for me to ask Regina exactly what happened.
He clasps his hands and says, “I promise you, Robert—I’m not lyin’. You can go and ask Regina. She’ll tell you.”
“I plan to. Does my mother know?”
Silence.
“I didn’t think so,” I say.
“Regina didn’t want to upset her. I didn’t either. Some things are best left alone. Like …”
“Just say it, Curt.”
“Like the two guys who was at the ballroom.”
“What about them?” Sweat beads on the back of my neck, and unease creeps over me.
“They came by here a week before you got to L.A. They was askin’ about you. Said you owe their boss money. Don’t worry—I didn’t mention it to your mother.”
The Truth About Gretchen Page 18