Daylight

by David Baldacci

  Before she stepped through the opening, Pine looked back and saw a small knot of young men gathering outside on the street in front of the house.

  “Are those friends of Jerome’s?” asked Pine.

  “Just come on in,” said the woman. After they did, she closed the door firmly behind them and locked it.

  She settled them in the front living room, where the large picture window overlooked the street. Pine kept one eye there and observed that the young men were coming closer.

  “You’re Mrs. Blake?” began Blum.

  The woman nodded, her expression both grief stricken and nerve-racked. “Cheryl Blake. Just call me Cee-Cee, everybody does.”

  “We’re very sorry about Jerome,” said Pine.

  “On the phone you told me that you were there,” Blake said, her voice cracking. “When it happened.”

  She pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes, which were red and angry looking. She had on a long sweatshirt and black running tights and tennis shoes with ankle socks. She was about five four with a strong, athletic build. Muscles in her neck flexed and receded as she spoke.

  Pine said, “Yes, I was there. I tried to talk him into putting his gun down.”

  “But you wasn’t the one to shoot him.”

  “No. That was a local police officer. But another man was killed. An Army investigator. I’m trying to understand what, if any, connection Jerome had to that.”

  “The police came by late last night. To let me know about Jerome. And to ask questions. And they came by again this morning. They took stuff from his room.”

  “Do you have other children?” asked Blum.

  “Two. My oldest, Willie. He’s on his own now. Living and working in Delaware. And then I got Jewel. She’s in middle school. Only fourteen. She’s upstairs sleeping. Cried her eyes out all night. She loved her brother.”

  “I’m sure she did,” said Blum.

  Pine interjected, “Jerome had a gun last night. A Glock. Have you ever seen that weapon around here?”

  “Cops asked the same thing and I’ll tell you what I told them, Jerome didn’t have no gun. He never wanted a gun and he didn’t have one,” she added fiercely.

  “Well, he had one last night. I’m just trying to piece things together.”

  Blake eyed her suspiciously. “You say you’re with the government? You got something that says that?”

  Pine pulled out her cred pack and badge and showed them to Blake. “I’m with the FBI. I was meeting with another Army investigator when the shooting happened. We’re working the case together.”

  “What you want me to tell you?”

  “What did you tell the police?”

  “The truth, but they don’t want to believe it.”

  “I’d like to hear it,” said Pine.

  Blake settled back in her chair and rubbed her eyes and blew her nose into the tissue. Then her softened features turned hard and her expression became fierce.

  “Look, I’m not stupid, okay? I know the police come here and think, ‘Okay, here we damn well go again. Same old shit. Black man kills a white man, so he got what he deserved.’ But see, the picture here is different. Way different.”

  “Tell me,” said Pine.

  “For starters, Jerome was smart, real smart, the smart that you’re born with and then you get smarter by sucking up all the information you can. He got straight As in school. He was going to college, already getting scholarship offers and he’s still a junior. Because of his brain,” she added sharply.

  “Okay,” said Pine. “Keep going.”

  “Now, the police came here and start telling me that what happened last night is because Jerome was doing some gang thing. Kill someone. Kill a fed, they said. Initiation shit.”

  “They actually said that to you?” asked Pine incredulously.

  “Sure as I’m sitting here talking to you.”

  “And you didn’t believe that?” said Blum.

  “Course I didn’t ’cause it isn’t true. There are gangs all over this damn place. Everybody knows that. Look out the window, they’re out there right now. My oldest boy, he was in a gang. But he got out. Only reason Willie moved away. Hell, I made him go. I don’t want that for my kids. Too many getting shot and buried before they’re even grown. My husband’s dead now fourteen years. He was just coming home from the grocery store with ice cream for me ’cause I was pregnant with Jewel and I needed something cold. He went out for damn ice cream and ended up in a box just ’cause he was walking down the street late at night with a brown paper bag and some cops driving by had a problem with that. They said he resisted arrest, that he was going for one of their guns, and they shot him. Yeah, he was going for their guns all right. Bullshit.”

  “Was there an investigation?”

  “Oh yeah. Took all of like a week. Justifiable shooting, they said. Feared for their damn lives, even though it was four against one. Those cops went right back to work. They might still be out there for all I know. Shooting people for carrying damn ice cream.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “But Jerome never wanted no part of any of that. He was home every night doing his schoolwork. He was on the Honor Roll. He wanted to be whatchacallit when he graduated. You know, number one?”

  “Valedictorian?” suggested Blum.

  “Yeah, valedictorian. And he was gonna be, sure as I’m sitting here. So he didn’t have time for gangs. They got a robotics team at the school. Jerome was head of the whole damn thing. They won the state competition last year.”

  “That’s all very impressive,” said Pine. “But it doesn’t account for him being in an alley across from where a man was shot. Or him running from the scene with a gun. That’s what I want to work through. How was he when he came home from school yesterday? Did he seem troubled or anything?”

  Blake nodded her head. “He came home looking all upset and worried. I asked him what was wrong. He said, ‘Momma, I messed up on a test. Missed a couple questions.’ I told him that ain’t the end of the world. He looked at me funny, like . . . like maybe it was.” She pulled a fresh tissue from her pocket, dabbed at her eyes, and looked down, shaking her head. “I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe my baby’s gone. Not Jerome.” She started to rock and moan. “Lord help me, not Jerome.”

  “Momma?”

  They all turned to see a tall, athletic girl around fourteen at the bottom of the stairs. She was dressed in a set of two-piece pajamas and her eyes were red from crying.

  “Momma, please don’t cry.”

  Blake jumped up and wiped her eyes. “Oh, baby, Momma’s okay. Just blubbering a little bit.” She turned to Pine. “This is Jewel. Jewel, these ladies are with the FBI. They’re here to help find out what happened to your brother.”

  Jewel looked at Pine and Blum, turned, and fled back upstairs.

  Blake watched her go, her lips trembling. “Poor baby. Poor baby. Our lives just turned upside down. I didn’t let her go to school today, of course.” She shook her head. “I don’t know when I’ll send her back. I don’t want to let her outta my sight.”

  Blum rose and put her hand on her shoulder and gently rubbed it. “This is every mother’s worst nightmare,” said Blum. “I am so sorry.”

  Blake sniffled and said, “You got kids?”

  “Yes. All grown, some with children of their own and their own problems. Some I can help with, some I can’t, so I just worry. You never stop being a parent. Not until you take your last breath.”

  “That’s the truth, honey. That is the truth.” She patted Blum’s hand and composed herself while Blum retook her seat.

  “When did he leave the house yesterday?” asked Pine after a few moments of silence.

  “After dinner. He told me he got to run back to school to work on a robot. It’s just down the street from here. He said the principal said it was okay. I don’t like him being out at night around here. But Jewel was feeling sick and I was taking care of he
r, so I just told him to call me when he got there and call me when he was leaving. But I was still worried about him.”

  “So he had a cell phone?” asked Pine.

  “Oh, yeah. He bought it himself. Worked for a company over the summer building gadgets and such.”

  “No cell phone was found on him,” said Pine. “Did he call you last night?”

  Blake’s eyes filled with tears and she shook her head. “He texted me around seven. Say, ‘Momma, I’m at the school.’ And he’d let me know when he was coming home. When he wasn’t back by ten, I texted him. Then I called. No answer. I was starting to get real worried. I was gonna go looking for him. Then the police showed up to tell me my baby boy was dead.”

  She jumped up and hurried into the adjacent room, where they could hear her sobbing.

  Blum rose and said, “I’ll see if she has any tea or coffee and make her a cup. Give me a few minutes alone with her.”

  Pine nodded as Blum walked into the other room.

  Pine went over to the window and looked out. The young men had now surrounded her car and were showing it uncomfortable interest.

  She walked out the front door to face them.

  CHAPTER

  14

  CAN I HELP YOU?” asked Pine as she stood on the front sidewalk staring at the group. To a person they all stared back at her. The oldest looked to be early twenties, the youngest fourteen or so. It was one thirty in the afternoon, so Pine wondered why the school-aged among them were not where they should have been. She could read in their eyes and attitudes one very clear reality: They didn’t trust anyone who wore a badge.

  She asked her question again.

  None of them answered her. Again. They just stared.

  She took a few steps forward, acutely aware of the delicacy of the situation. She didn’t move her hand close to her Glock, though it was visible to all of them, as was the shiny FBI shield that she had pinned to her belt. Pine knew it was not impenetrable protection, not here, maybe nowhere anymore.

  “Did any of you know Jerome Blake?”

  “He’s dead. Cops shot him.”

  This came from a boy in the back, around fifteen, hair cut near to the scalp, wiry build, features hardened beyond his years. But not for a place like this. For a place like this, he was probably just right.

  She said, “Jerome had a gun. He might have shot someone.”

  “Jerome didn’t shoot nobody.”

  This came from the oldest looking of the group.

  “Okay, tell me why you think that.”

  “Who the hell are you anyway?” said the man.

  “I’m a federal cop. And I was there when the man was shot and Jerome was killed. Now I’m looking into it.”

  “You kill him?” said the man, with menace in his tone and tensed features. The rest of the group, taking their vibe from him, assumed that same angry posture. Pine could sense the mob mentality emerging just enough to make her situation grow increasingly untenable.

  Pine said calmly, “No, I was trying to talk him into dropping the gun. Because he had a gun. I saw it. I’m not saying he did anything with it, but he had it. A Glock. His mother says Jerome never had a gun.”

  “She’s right about that. Robot man ain’t never had no gun.”

  The rest of the group chortled at this remark.

  Pine nodded. “Right. He built robots. He was smart. He said he was going back to school last night to work on robots. Only that apparently didn’t happen. I’d like to understand what did happen. Did any of you see anything? Do you know where he might have gotten the gun?”

  “Cops already got their story. They ain’t looking nowhere else.”

  “Gang initiation, you mean?” said Pine. “Jerome’s mother told me that’s what the police said. You apparently don’t believe that.”

  In a scoffing tone the man said, “’Cause it’s not true. Jerome ain’t in no gang.”

  “But was a gang trying to get him to join?”

  “Why would they?” said the man. “They got all the meat they need. And you got to look at things smart.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Jerome was strong up here,” said the man, pointing to his head. “But with books and robots and shit like that. Thing is, gangs got all the sorts of smarts they need. Jerome ain’t smart that way. Not street way. So what they want is muscle, someone who’s tough and don’t give a shit, and brothers willing to carry a gun and do what needs doing with it. That’s not Jerome. No gang would want him. To them, he’s just a book punk they got no use for.” He grinned and added, “Shit, be like hiring Bill Gates to guard their stash, see what I mean?”

  “Okay. Anything else you can tell me? Did any of you see Jerome last night? Did he text or phone any of you saying what he was going to do?”

  The people in the group looked at one another. Finally, the youngest of them took a hesitant step forward. “He texted me last night.”

  “What time and what did he say?”

  The boy pulled out his phone. “Seven ten. He said he got something to do but he didn’t want to do it.”

  “Did he say what that was?”

  “No. I texted him back and asked him, but he said he can’t tell me. But he said he was worried ’cause it might go all bad.”

  “That what might go all bad?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  She looked at the others. “No one else saw Jerome last night, or talked to him?”

  No one said anything in response, though Pine did focus for a moment on a guy around sixteen who stood off to the side. He had been staring at her but then glanced down when she’d asked her question.

  “Anybody have the name of someone I should talk to about this? A friend of Jerome’s? Someone he might have confided in?”

  Again, no one said anything.

  “Well, thanks for the information,” she said.

  “Now what you gonna do with it?” snapped the man.

  “Follow it to the truth. If Jerome did nothing wrong, then I’ll clear his name. For what that’s worth.”

  “Sure you will,” said the man sarcastically. “Cops are cops. All stick together.”

  “I’m more of a loner. I’m actually stationed out in Arizona. I’m usually the only cop around out there. I go my own way and sometimes, for better or worse, make my own rules.”

  “What you doing here then?”

  “Looking for answers.” She eyed him. “Story of my life.”

  As she turned and headed back to the house the man called out, “Hey, good luck, Arizona.”

  She looked back at him. “I’ll take all the luck I can get.”

  CHAPTER

  15

  WHEN PINE RETURNED TO THE HOUSE, Blum and Blake were sitting in the front room and Blake was sipping on a cup of tea.

  Blum eyed Pine curiously.

  “I was just having a chat with some of Jerome’s ‘acquaintances,’ ” she explained as she sat down. “They don’t think he was involved in any gang thing, either.”

  Blake bristled. “That ’cause he wasn’t, like I told you. But the police don’t see it that way. I told them Jerome was top of his class. That he was going to college. They looked at me like I was speaking Chinese.”

  “That must have made you very upset,” said Blum.

  “Damn right it did. But they just gonna sweep it under the rug, you mark my words.”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it,” said Pine.

  Blake looked at her squarely. “What you gonna do about it? Your boss say back off, then you gonna back off, right?”

  “Wrong,” Blum answered for her. “That is not how Agent Pine operates. And she is not part of the local police. She will see this through.”

  Pine said, “Is there anything else you can tell us? Did Jerome ever mention someone named Tony Vincenzo?”

  Blake shook her head. “Never heard that name. He Mexican?”

  “Italian-American.”

  “No. Nobody with that n
ame lives around here, least that I know of. And Jerome never mentioned him to me.”

  “Until yesterday, did Jerome seem okay?”

  “Yeah. He went off to school all happy and everything.”

  “But when he got home he was upset. And you don’t think it was about missing questions on a test?”

  “I know it wasn’t that.”

  “So whatever made him do what he did last night, it happened between the time he left here yesterday morning and when he came home?”

  “Must have been,” agreed Blake.

  Pine looked at Blum. “So we need to find out what that was.”

  “Do we go to his school then?” asked Blum.

  “It’s a start.”

  The high school was about a half mile from where the Blakes lived. A new football field had been erected, and the façade of the building had been power-washed. And a new adjacent building was set off from the main building. The landscaping looked abundant and well planned out. She hoped the classroom, students, and teachers had gotten the same level of support.

  They headed to the main office and Pine’s badge got them in to see the principal.

  Her name was Norma Bailey. She was a tall black woman with iron-gray hair pulled back in a severe bun. She had the no-nonsense manner of someone long used to having to corral and attempt to control and finally to teach legions of teenagers.

  “I heard about poor Jerome,” she began, her expression full of sadness. “I wish I could say I can’t believe it, but shootings have become so frequent. People just see one on the news and the next day there’s another. People are becoming desensitized to the whole thing, and that is an abysmal development.”

  “But you would be surprised it would involve Jerome?” said Pine.

  “Yes, I’m afraid I wasn’t clear on that point. Jerome . . . ” She shook her head and touched her trembling lips with a shaky hand before regaining her composure. “He was one of the brightest students we had. He was destined for an important role in life. He would have gone very far. He was an absolute genius in math and science. He could understand things even the teachers couldn’t, and we have two math PhDs here. A certifiable prodigy.”