Best Enemies (A Triple Trouble Mystery)

by Lynn Emery

  “Do you want mustard on your baloney sandwich, baby girl?” Mikayla shook her head no. “Pickles?”

  “Yes, please,” Mikayla said softly then stared out of the window, her purple marker poised on the paper. “Me and daddy liked pickles on our sandwiches. Anthony doesn’t.”

  Willa’s neck muscles tightened as she struggled not to cry. Seeing her kids in pain felt like a knife slicing thin pieces of flesh from her body. She stopped making the sandwiches and went to the table. Taking Mikayla’s small hand that rested on the table Willa kissed it.

  “I know, sweetie. Daddy loved pickles. Bet he’s up in heaven at a deli stuffing his face on roast beef sandwiches piled high with pickles.”

  “But I don’t want him up in heaven. If I ask real nice maybe God will send him back.” Mikayla turned to Willa, her big dark eyes pleading for the answer she wanted to hear.

  Willa knew all about facing harsh reality at a young age. By the time she arrived at Mama Ruby’s house as a foster child, Willa had stopped believing in happy endings. Now she felt like a failure. First Anthony had to feel the pain of his biological father’s broken promises. Now he’d lost his surrogate father, too. Maybe the world was like an intricate mechanical device. Change one event or decision and the entire machine turned in a different direction. Maybe if she hadn’t been so angry with her ex, Markus, he wouldn’t have distanced himself from his son.

  Maybe if Willa given her marriage to Jack one more chance they would have been together as a family that night. Jack wouldn’t have been at that ATM machine. He would have been home playing video games with Anthony, or reading Mikayla’s favorite fairytale for the thousandth time. Or if she’d just pretended to believe his lies Jack would have been with his mistress. At least he’d be alive. And Mikayla wouldn’t have to ask God to undo what could not be undone.

  Before Willa could answer Mikayla pulled her hand away. Her expression said she knew asking would be in vain. “I’m not hungry anyway.”

  Anthony walked in with the earpiece to his slim MP3 player draped around his neck. When Mikayla walked by with her head down he put a hand on her shoulders. “What’s up, baby sis? Hey, you walk outta here and I’m eating your sub and mine.”

  “I don’t care.” Mikayla shrugged. “You can have it.”

  “Won’t be any fun if I’m not sneaking it from you,” Anthony said and tickled her on the neck.

  Mikayla tried to smile but failed. “You eat up everything whether you sneak it or not.”

  “What you talkin’ about, girl? You better take that back.”

  Anthony tickled her all over as Mikayla wriggled to get away. When she made a dash for the door he chased after her. Moments later Willa heard her little girl squeals of delight. Willa felt a rush of love for Anthony as he teased away Mikayla’s pain if only for a little while. Willa prepared sandwiches on a plate, covered them with plastic wrap to keep them fresh. Her children’s laughter had died away. She moved quietly from the kitchen and down the hallway to the large family room. Pausing, Willa listened to them talk though she couldn’t make out their words. Mikayla’s lilting voice like a delicate little bird, then Anthony’s deeper responses. Willa decided to retreat. Maybe one child could give guidance to the other better than an adult. At least that was the excuse she made. Despite therapy and Ruby’s healing love Willa was still no good at talking about tough subjects.

  She went back to the sunny breakfast nook to wait for him. Staring out of the window Willa tried to think of what Mama Ruby would do. Ten minutes later Willa was no closer to channeling her adoptive mother’s wisdom. Anthony came back into the kitchen and went straight to the food. She watched him wolf down one meatball sub standing at the counter.

  “So, Mikayla is okay?” Willa watched his square jaws working on the spicy meat and bread.

  Anthony nodded as he swallowed then turned to the refrigerator. He took out a bottle of strawberry soda, his favorite. After a deep gulp he started toward the door food in hand. “Playing with the Bratz dolls Jack gave her. Going to shoot some baskets at Bernell’s house.”

  “Wait, baby. We need to talk,” Willa said quickly before his long legs carried him out of the house. Anthony seemed to always be walking away from her these days.

  He let out a hissing sigh through his full lips. “Look, Ma, Miz Kennedy is trippin’ ah-ight? Me and the guys was just jokin’ around in the cafeteria. Cry baby Tiffany Kendricks made a big deal about a little catsup on her blouse. And then— ”

  “I’m not talking about some horseplay at school. By the way I totally agree with Mrs. Kennedy.” Willa made a note to call the assistant principal to get the details. “And you just told me about your latest escapade before she did.”

  Anthony put the soda and sandwich down on the counter. He covered his eyes with one large hand. “Ah man.”

  “Sit down. This is a serious talk. Real serious.” Willa patted the cushioned seat of the chair next to her.

  He dropped his hand, looked at Willa for a few seconds then sat down as requested. “Okay.”

  Willa cleared her throat. “The police came by your dad’s office today while I was there.”

  “You planning to sell Jack’s business soon?” Anthony looked at her.

  “I haven’t decided yet. Kinda caught me off guard that he made me his main beneficiary and executor of his will,” Willa replied.

  “I guess Jack owned you that much,” Anthony retorted. He folded his arms across his chest.

  “We weren’t sworn enemies, Anthony. I mean one thing we shared is wanting the best for our kids.” Willa leaned toward him.

  “Uh-huh.” Anthony’s jaw muscle tightened, but he said no more.

  “We both made mistakes, okay? A failed marriage is the responsibility of both partners. I know your dad— ”

  “Jack liked women, weed and liquor so don’t try cleaning it up. I’m not Mikayla,” Anthony said firmly.

  “I’m not trying to treat you like a kid. I—” Willa blinked at him rapidly. “What is this about Jack smoking marijuana? I never. How would you know such a thing?”

  “Guys talk. I know some people that know some more people who like to hang out at the clubs. That’s all.” Anthony’s gaze skittered to the opposite side of the room. “Anyway I know Jack wasn’t exactly squeaky clean so don’t try to make him sound that way.”

  “He had his faults when it came to women,” Willa began.

  “Yeah, big time,” Anthony put in.

  “But don’t listen to rumors about him using drugs. I knew Jack a lot longer than you did. He liked to drink, but drugs? I don’t believe it.” Willa shook her head slowly.

  “Ma, weed ain’t really considered a drug nowadays. Just like takin’ a drink. Part of the club scene, little party ain’t hurt nobody,” Anthony said with a shrug.

  Willa stared at him hard. Although he spoke the words, she felt sure they came from another source. She pointed a forefinger at his nose. “Stop talking like those thugs from the bottom. I lived that life back in the day so don’t play tough boy with me. You don’t know anything about it. You and your little bourgie friends acting like you’re so damn bad. If I even think you’re into anything illegal I will knock you back into the land of the righteous. And stop talking in that stupid Ebonics. You hearing me good?”

  “Yeah, I hear you,” Anthony grumbled, eyes flashing with anger.

  “Say what? I missed something,” Willa spat and returned his gaze with her own dose of fire.

  “I meant to say, yes, ma’am.”

  “Damn right that’s what you meant to say. Okay, you wanna be grown then let’s talk like grown folks. Whatever Jack did as my husband he did to me. I got a right to be pissed, to dog him out about being a pitiful husband.” Willa grabbed Anthony’s shoulder hard. “But he kept right on doing for you and Mikayla no matter what anybody says. He loved both of you. Jack felt bad about you being so angry with him, but he said he understood that it was his fault.”

  Anthony’s tough exter
ior cracked. His eyes glistened with tears. His voice shook and he covered his face with one hand. “I didn’t mean...”

  “He knew you loved him back. Nothing you ever said or did changed that, baby. Nothing,” Willa said, her tone softened by the raw pain on his face.

  She rose and hugged him to her like he was a little boy again. Still seated Anthony buried his face against her body, both arms wrapped around her waist. He cried quietly for several minutes. His shoulders shook with the effort not to let go completely. Willa stroked his tightly curled wooly hair as she murmured words of consolation. Seconds later Anthony pushed away from her. He grabbed a napkin from the holder on the table and wiped his face.

  “I’m going’ over to my friend’s house like I said. If that’s okay,” Anthony added. His tough face had returned.

  “In a few minutes. Detective Miller is checking up on alibis as part of the investigation. Part of the routine is looking at the family first, then friends and so on.” Willa paused as she considered the best way to continue.

  Anthony scowled. “Yeah, like on those TV shows. Is he saying’ you’re a suspect? Cause if he is—”

  “Miller considers everyone a person of interest until he eliminates them,” Willa cut him off. “So I have to ask you about that night. You were at Greg’s house all night, right?”

  His eyes blinked then went wide as the realization of what she was asking sank in. He stood up with force making the chair scrape the floor. “You think I could kill Jack? Just cause I called him out on the crap he pulled? Damn, mama. That’s messed up.”

  “Of course I don’t think that. Sit back down,” Willa shot back in a tone that pressed home her right to have respect. Anthony eased back onto the chair seat with a stony glare at her. “Detective Miller wants to know where you were. And I don’t want any surprises. So before he finds out tell me the truth. Did you and Greg stay at his house all night?”

  “We were together the whole time,” Anthony said.

  Willa’s eyes narrowed at she looked back at him. “That’s not what I asked you.”

  “Fine, sure. We were at the house all night. Ask Mrs. Bellmont. If you haven’t already.” Anthony pursed his lips then looked out of the window.

  They were back to being opponents. These lightening fast teenage mood swings were wearing her out. “I wanted to hear it from you.”

  At that moment the phone rang once. Before Willa could get to the kitchen phone Mikayla bounced in. “Mama, Greg’s mama wants to talk to you. She said you called her.”

  Anthony let out a grunt of disgust. “Yeah, right. You wanted to hear it from me. If that’s all then I’m gone. Call Bernell’s mama if you don’t believe me.”

  Before Willa could react Anthony had taken three long strides to the back door. He slammed it shut behind him. Mikayla gasped at the drama unfolding then rushed to the bay window. She watched him walk quickly down the driveway past Willa’s Honda Pilot. Seconds later he disappeared down the sidewalk going east.

  “Anthony is going to be in trouble now. Where is he going?” Mikayla craned her neck to keep watching him.

  “To Bernell’s house,” Willa said. She hissed out some of her frustration before picking up the cordless phone. She hit the “on” button and talked to Stephanie Bellmont. Ten minutes later Willa hung up the phone and had three more things to worry about, Anthony’s guilty behavior and his troubling account of rumors about Jack. Last but not least, Stephanie had left the boys alone for a good four hours the night Jack was murdered. But Stephanie was sure they hadn’t left the house because Greg told her so. Right. Detective Miller was probably licking his chops at the juicy leads he was no doubt uncovering.

  ***

  Two days later Willa was back at Crown Protection. She and Cedric Robinson sat at the round conference table in one corner of Jack’s office. They were wrapping up a meeting that laid out all of the jobs scheduled for the next few weeks. Willa had to admit that Cedric had a handle on the business operations. Good thing, too. Her mind kept wandering to her children, her in-laws and Jack’s other life that she apparently knew nothing about.

  “So that’s it. The contract to provide security at two state owned office buildings means we’ll have steady revenue for twelve months. Positive cash flow while we take on short-term assignments. I think we should try for more long-term contracts just like it.” Cedric nodded as he tapped the neatly arranged paperwork in front of him.

  “Right, right. Long term contracts,” Willa echoed.

  “I realize you’ve been stressed by these events.” Cedric placed a hand on the back of her chair. “If you have any concerns about Crown Protection let me assure you I’m on top of things. As chief of operations Jack relied on me heavily. I’m going to make sure the agency doesn’t suffer.”

  “I know you will. I’m grateful for the hard work you’ve been putting in, and for being patient with me while I learn,” Willa replied quickly. She rubbed her eyes for a few seconds.

  “No problem at all. This all has been dumped on you in a very dramatic and tragic way.” Cedric paused for a few moments. “Kay told me Detective Miller spoke to you a couple of days ago. He talked to me, too.”

  “He’s just doing his job.” Willa frowned as she once again debated calling Miller. She wanted to know what he’d learned about Anthony and Jack. Somehow Willa had to get Anthony to trust her and spill the truth about where he was the night Jack was killed. The fact that she had not heard from Miller only added to her anxiety.

  “Right.” Cedric paused. “Listen, I don’t want to get in your personal business.” He paused again as though waiting for a cue.

  “Go ahead and ask,” Willa replied with a smile and shake of her head. “I’m used to personal questions from men I hardly know, namely the police. Besides you knew Jack pretty well. I mean you two worked so closely together.”

  “Yes, well.” Cedric rubbed his chin and frowned, as though considering how to proceed. Then he looked at Willa. “I’m sure you’ve heard talk about Jack’s personal habits.”

  Willa tossed the ink pen in her hand onto the table and leaned back in the chair. “I didn’t know specifics about his ‘personal habits’ in the last year or so. Mainly because- A: I didn’t care. And B: I didn’t want to know. But if anything is going to come out that will hurt my kids then tell me.”

  Cedric sat straight like a man clear on his duty. “Of course. In the last two years Jack got, er, distracted by his non-business pursuits.”

  “Okay, let me stop you right now. I’m not like Jack’s mama, a siditty upper class black woman who tiptoes around the real deal. I’m from the ‘hood, bounced around foster care when my crack-head mama finally abandoned me and six more kids.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Cedric still had a bit of southern gentleman starch in his collar.

  “Forget the formality. Call me Willa,” she said with a smile.

  “Okay, Willa. So I’ll just lay it out. I was doing most of the work when it came to day-to-day operations. Jack was mostly attending business luncheons and doing customer relationships type socializing.”

  “Oh I know how much Jack enjoyed socializing,” Willa retorted. “So you were actually running the agency. Jack was playing Mr. Big Shot.”

  “That’s one way to describe it, yes.” Cedric cleared his throat. “Not that I’m criticizing him, you understand.”

  “You, Kay and the other full-timers were loyal to Jack. Otherwise you could have let this place go to hell and just collected your paychecks. Or worse.” Willa meant Cedric could have stolen Jack’s best clients and struck out on his own. In fact, she wondered if he still might. As she gazed back at him she knew that was an unspoken question between them. She took his silence on the subject to mean the answer was “maybe.”

  “I’ve got too much pride in my work to do such a thing. Besides, I really liked Jack. It was hard not to.” Cedric’s staid demeanor faded a bit. His mouth curved up at one end into a faint smile.

  “Tell me about it,”
Willa replied with a shake of her head. Jack had charisma to spare. She’d been married to the rascal for five years before the blinders fell from her eyes. Even then it was easy to forgive him. Too bad his charisma had been useless against a determined killer.

  “The famous Jack Crown charm, his biggest asset and weakness. He started to party hard, even for Jack. He had a lot of anger, too. I think a lot of it was left over from what happened to his father.”

  “Probably. He always talked about how his father was left hanging by his big time political buddies. Mr. Crown hasn’t been the same since he spent time in that federal prison on corruption charges.” Willa didn’t add that mostly Jack was bitter about the loss of prestige. His anger was directed at the elder Crown as well for getting caught.

  “Jack had this thing about becoming big time. He loved flaunting his success in front of the people who turned their backs on them when Mr. Crown was convicted,” Cedric said. “But he couldn’t get loans from the banks. Other agencies with less of a track record got them and won choice jobs”

  Willa grunted. “Let me guess, white owned agencies.”

  “It was a combination of things, but race played a part. Even so I told him Crown Protection could still be a player. He kept saying the white man was determined to keep us on the chitlin’ circuit.” Cedric said the words “chiltlin’ circuit” as though they tasted sour in his mouth.

  “Oh yeah, I heard him say that a time or two,” Willa replied. “But you think he made too much of that?”

  “I’m not into that victim mentality. Besides, we had a lot of support from black businesses and several white business leaders reached out. Frankly that’s why we’ve done so well.” Cedric tapped the folders containing proof of their success.

  “But Jack couldn’t see past his bitterness. So he found affirmation of his manhood in women and partying.”

  “I hate to say it, but that’s pretty accurate,” Cedric finally admitted after hesitating.