by Teri Woods
“Come on, Bernard Guess is the one on trial, not Daisy. So, if I was nice, if I’m understanding, then so be it. I don’t think it’s her fault and she should be held accountable. Now, if she testifies against state, I will be the first to put the cuffs on her and throw her in a cell and make sure she don’t see the fucking sun shine. But, right now, she’s not our problem.”
“She’s not the first. What about the black kid, what was his name, robbing corner stores with a BB gun.”
“Maxwell Brittingham,” answered Tommy, remembering the black kid he had let go two times for trying to rob a corner store with a BB gun.
“Exactly, and you remember their names, go figure!” she said, scratching her head, looking at him, trying to figure his psyche and having yet to come close. “Have you ever thought that there’s something off with these people? And this girl; trouble. Jesus, Tommy, if there’s one more death surrounding this scrawny alley cat, I’m going to scream.”
“Listen, Merva, they’ve named her as a witness, not us. I tried and I offered state assistance, police protection, the whole nine. She ran, point-blank. So, if she does end up dead, that’s not our fault.”
“How are you using the word ‘our’?”
“Listen. After the body of Calvin Stringer was found… we fucked up, we should have had our hands on her, but she was gone, and by the looks of it, she packed, Merva, she moved her stuff out, and she cleaned the place out, leaving nothing but furniture. Merva, they have to produce her, not us. Technically, we don’t need her at all in the courtroom, they do. Hey, I hope she runs and keeps running. I hope she hides and they don’t find her.”
“She’s lucky, she better keep running, if she know what I know, ’cause these guys are tracking her down, and when they get her, she’s gonna be lucky if she don’t end up dead somewhere.”
“Listen, they got thirty days to locate their witness. After that, it’s a wrap and Bernard Guess, he’s toast. And you, you need to not worry about who I want to save. You might need me to save you one day.”
“Whatever,” she said.
“Come on, this crime scene is a wrap,” he said as the team leader of forensics waved his hand, letting them know they were done with the investigation. Lester Giles had taken a bad blow to the head and suffered a stroke. His cold body was stiff and bloated as the coroner gently rolled a dead Lester Giles over face up, onto a thick, black, plastic bag and then zipped it up.
The next day, the captain had their asses in a sling.
“We got another murder that links back to this Somerset Killer case. Another murder?”
“Captain Dan, all we know so far is that Lester Giles went to answer the door and never returned to the third floor to fix Ms. Selda Crest’s toilet. She thought he got caught up in something else and would come back. He never did. The wife put out a missing persons report. And the police received a 911 call about a dead man in the building.”
“Yes, sir, while he had a stroke, he was also beaten in the head badly. We’re waiting for the coroner’s report, which should be in today. So, we’ll know the exact cause of death.”
“I want this murderer brought down. I want this witness found, because she knows something and I want to know what she knows.”
“I agree with you, Captain.” Merva smiled at her partner. “Don’t you agree the girl needs to be brought down too, Delgado?” asked Merva, really smiling.
“Yeah, I agree,” said Delgado, waiting to wring her neck once the captain was through.
“There’s a meeting in an hour. The Somerset Killer might be in jail, but he’s got a cohort or cohorts and they are still out in the streets. We have to bring these people to justice. I want you to track this girl, Daisy Mae Fothergill, wherever she is. Hunt her down. Trust me—with this string of bodies that’s being left behind, it’s all leading back to this one girl. You find her, you’ll save the next victim.”
NEW LEAVES
The chase had begun, and everyone was searching for the same thing, Daisy Mae Fothergill, like a cat chasing a mouse, but this little mouse had many cats following her trail. But Daisy was transforming her life and trying to get a job. She had gotten her résumé together with the help of Kimmie Sue, and she had been faxing it out every day over and over again to the various job positions in the newspaper. She remembered the day her aunt came to her looking as if the sky was falling.
“Um, Daisy, how long are you planning on staying here, because I just looked in the back of your car and you really got a lot of stuff in there.”
“Yeah, I do, Aunt Tildie, I sure do. I brought it just in case I decided to stay here.”
“So, you’re not going back?”
“No, I don’t think so,” said Daisy Mae, blinking at her aunt, shaking her head no. “Nope I’m not. But, don’t worry, Aunt Tildie, I been looking for an apartment and going to this office supply store every day faxing out my résumé. I think I’ve found a place out on Murfreesboro Road heading toward the city. And I got a call back for a job interview in a doctor’s office. Isn’t that something. So, I’ll probably get my apartment, Aunt Tildie, this weekend, and I’ll need some furniture, but I’ll be all right.”
Aunt Tildie was speechless. “I hope you get your place and a good job. I’ll pray for you, Daisy Mae, that those things come. I’ll pray to the Lord,” she said, moving in on Daisy, placing her arms around her, and hugging her tightly. “God bless you, honey,” she said.
Daisy had been staying with her aunt and her cousin for about a month now and it was time for her to move on. Tildie was glad she’d be close by, and she was glad that Kimmie Sue had her cousin, someone in the family in her life besides herself. Daisy Mae was content in Nashville, more so than out in the sticks of Murfreesboro. At least Nashville had some lights at night for her to look at. There was always something about the city streetlights that captivated her. She thought back to her old life and how she had been living, and the way she had earned her living. She thought of Felix and wondered where he was. Eeeww, let him stay there. Don’t even think about it. She quickly erased the memory. And then she looked around at where she was. A calmer place, where the city moved just a little slower and the people waved and wished one another a smiling “howdy,” short for “how do you do,” and no one was in a rush, no one seemingly had anywhere to be. Was it possible that no one cared about time, or that time didn’t hold as much importance as did the moment? And for her, it seemed that all the smiling faces washed away the bad ones, that time was healing her and time had taken her to another place, somewhere far away, where there was the possibility of reinventing herself. She felt bad for Calvin and prayed for his soul every day. She still had not heard about the murder of Lester Giles, in her very own living room, again all because of her and her alibi.
Sometimes, out of sight really is out of mind, and her past life and the people she once knew were out of mind and nowhere in sight. She liked it like that, wanted it to stay that way. She was in a new place, with collages of new people to meet, greet, and get acquainted with. She was where she wanted to be, and it was easy to block out the old memories of the yesteryears. It was easy to forget her turmoil-ridden past, and it was easy to let old dogs lie down and rest. She was an old dog wanting to lie down and rest. And at only twenty-two years of age, she had ripped and run the streets and everything in between them, she was ready for a change, ready for a fresh start. She had lived and experienced enough life-altering chances and changes; she was “old beyond her years,” as the old folks used to say, and truly a blessed woman to still be alive. She was starting to feel as if God had something in store for her, something grand and unimaginable in store for her life. She definitely knew she had been given a fresh new start and she was ready to take it.
Just then the phone rang, and Aunt Tildie picked it up.
“Hello.” She paused. “Yes, son, hold on,” she said, smiling at Daisy. “It’s Billy from church calling on you. Here you go,” she said, passing the phone to Daisy.
&n
bsp; “Hey, Billy, uh huh, sure, the movies, sure thing, hold on. Kimmie Sue, want to go to the movies with Billy and Dusty?”
“Do I? You got to ask? I’m going bored out of my mind. Momma? I want to go.”
“Yeah, Aunt Tildie, we should be home before it gets dark, okay?”
“I don’t see why not; those are fine boys, come from good homes. I know their families well. I’ll help you girls get ready,” she said, hoping for a proposal for one of them. Where Tildie came from, life was so much simpler. You fall in love, you get married, you have babies, raise them, and then live out the rest of your life, together, of course. Now there really wasn’t much more to life than that.
Daisy had met Billy at the church. He was a nice, decent, well-mannered, gentle young man. He had a factory job, working for an ice-cream manufacturer. He ran the conveyor belt that put the lids on the tops of huge ice-cream barrels. If he did that the rest of his life, it was just fine and dandy by him. He was content with lids. He found another fulfillment in his life with his church, as did most of the members. And he loved sports, all kinds of sports. He was an attractive man, with distinguished features. He dressed very casually in khakis and button-down shirts and simple loafers. He was used to pretty girlfriends and talking on the phone to women whom his friends would die for the chance to say hello to, but he had an animal attraction that was magnified by his smile. Daisy couldn’t take her eyes off him. From the first time she saw him, she melted, just looking into his eyes.
“How are you today?” he asked politely.
“I am really fine, now,” she said, smiling like a young schoolgirl.
“You sure are. You’re not from here, are you?”
“No, I guess you can tell, right?”
“Pretty much… Yeah, you don’t sound like you’re from these parts.”
“No, I’m not.”
And from that simple conversation budded a new courtship within the Trinity Spirit Holy Worship Church. All the elders gossipped, excited at the talk of a fresh new romance. It was as if spring was in the air in the middle of fall.
“Well, don’t they make a fine couple?” they’d ask each other.
Pastor Maykims heard of the new courtship, and one Sunday after church called them into his office.
“Now, Daisy Mae and Billy, it has come to my attention that the two of you have fallen smitten with one another, is this so?”
The two of them, startled and completely caught off guard, looked strangely at one another, not sure of each other’s response. They had only been courting for two weeks.
“Um… well… I do… I mean, I think that, well…”
“Yes, Pastor we do… like each other,” she said, smiling at Billy, letting him know she could speak for them.
“Well, young lady and young man, no fornicating, there can be no fornicating in the Trinity Spirit Holy Worship Church. Sex is for marriage. This is what the Bible teaches, and it is for you to do your job, young lady, your job, and do you know what that is?” asked Pastor Maykims as he frowned and bent his head, looking over the top of his glasses into her eyes.
“Um… well… I do… I mean, I think that…” she said, sounding like Billy looking for relief, but finding none in his silence. “The answer is that the Bible teaches us not to fornicate and not to do that,” she said, hoping that her answer was correct.
“Yes, very good, Daisy Mae, but it’s more than that. You are a woman, like Eve was to Adam, and you must place your modesty in the hands of the Lord. Do you understand, young lady?”
“Yes, Pastor Maykims.”
“Well then say ‘Amen.’”
“Amen,” said Daisy and Billy in unison.
Daisy had never seen anything like it. You’d think people would have something better to do. Had she known it would be put on display, a bullhorn introduction into her personal business, she would never have gone outside with the boy. The fact that Billy Bob Porter liked her and was courting her around town was the biggest news flash of everybody’s life. For Pete’s sake, I wish I had known all this would be going on. But the cat was out of the bag, as they say, and there was nothing she could do about it.
The next morning, Daisy got a call from the Shalat Apartment Homes. She was approved for a one-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment, and as soon as she hung up the phone, she got two more calls, regarding her résumé. She had sent it out via fax after looking through the newspapers at the Help Wanted section. A law firm in the heart of Nashville was looking for a receptionist, no experience required, minimum wage, just answering phones. The other place that called her back was a telemarketing firm.
The first thing Daisy did was get dressed, hop in her car, and make her way down to the leasing office for her new apartment. The leasing agent had a package of forms for her to fill out and a set of keys. Daisy had her security deposit and first month’s rent. She counted the money out on the table and smiled at the leasing agent before handing her the cash.
“Now, you know we do take checks for you to pay your rent, if that’s more convenient,” the woman said, looking at all the crisp bills fresh from the mint.
“Here you go, don’t forget your welcome pack,” the leasing agent said, smiling from ear to ear. Daisy couldn’t take the keys out of the woman’s hands fast enough.
Daisy opened the door to her apartment. She walked in and looked around at the empty space. She closed her eyes and pictured each room, and how she planned on decorating. Nothing fancy; simple and plain would suffice. She had never had her own place before. She had always lived with her mother. She looked at the set of keys in her hand. The Lord sure does work in mysterious ways, she said to herself, thinking of the old folks and counting the number of times she had heard the saying before. Daisy pictured a sofa and a table and a recliner filling the space in the living room. A table and some chairs for the dining area with a lovely centerpiece, fresh-cut flowers and some hanging curtains in the windows would complement the empty space. I can’t believe I got my own place. Momma, can you believe this? she asked her mother, as if Abigail were standing beside her. So much was happening for Daisy. She had job interviews scattered throughout her calendar for the upcoming weeks. I know I’m going to get a job. I can feel it. Please God, help me find a job. I sure could be a telemarketer and I’d be really good too. I like to talk and sit and dial phone numbers. And, God, I could definitely be a receptionist, greeting callers over the phone, sitting at a desk being professional. It was at that very moment she thought of being Carol Burnett and passing a call into Mr. Wiggins. No, seriously, God, I can do it, I can. Please, God, please let me just find a job. Daisy had been caught in the rapture of the hood, the essence of the ghetto, and the urban decay of the inner-city streets for so long that the possibility of being a receptionist was like a dream come true to her. And being an ordinary receptionist was just as good as being a brain surgeon, or at least for her it was. I sure do hope that I get a job. Maybe I should pray. Pastor Maykims did say to just call upon the Lord and ring his phone. He will answer day or night. Daisy stood still for a minute, and then in the middle of her apartment, she bent her knees, dropped down, and, positioned comfortably on the floor, she prayed.
TRAINING DAY
The next morning Daisy walked through the front doors of the law firm, introduced herself to the receptionist, and was taken into a side office. Daisy Mae sat in front of a desk, an empty chair beside her.
“Ms. Murtaugh will be with you in one moment,” the small-framed white girl said before closing the door, bobbing her ponytail behind her as she made her way down the hallway.
Daisy Mae looked around the tiny office. Plaques graced the wall, pictures graced a desk, and a border of file folders sat on the floor next to all open wall space. I want a desk so I can decorate it too, she thought to herself, picturing her own workspace.
“Hi, Ms. Fothergill,” said a tall woman with blue eyes and long blond hair, wearing a business skirt suit, high heels, cleavage, and no pantyhose. Look at her, Daisy
thought to herself.
“Yes, thank you for letting me interview with you today,” said Daisy, standing up, holding out her hand.
“Oh, please, sit down, relax,” said Debbie Murtaugh, shaking the young black girl’s hand. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Um, no, I’m fine.”
“You sure? No water, soda, nothing?” said Debbie, before closing the offer.
“No, I’m okay.”
“So, let’s take a look at what we have here,” said Debbie as she moved some folders around, stacked them neatly on her desk, opened another folder, and looked at Daisy Mae’s résumé.
“And what is the Honey Pot?” she asked.
“It’s a restaurant; I was a host. I would greet the guests and sit them at their table and if they needed something I would get it for them.” She admonished herself to pretend to be her cousin Kimmie Sue. Every word she spoke was just as Kimmie Sue had taught her to speak after countless hours and days of rehearsals. She was ready for her first job interview, on the outside. But on the inside, she had a real bad case of the jitters.
“Did you ever do any sort of phone work?”
“Well, I would have to answer the phones from time to time and make dinner reservations. I’m very comfortable with talking on the phone, I do it almost every day,” said Daisy, smiling at Ms. Murtaugh.
“Yes, dear, don’t we all,” said Debbie trying to figure if the young black girl in front of her was sharp enough to answer the phones and take messages. It sounded easy, but it could be overwhelming.
“Where did you go to school?” asked Debbie.
“I graduated from Overbrook High in Philadelphia. That’s where I’m from.”
“I see that. So you recently moved to Tennessee.”
“Yes, ma’am, I have family down here and my mother recently died. So I came down here to be with family.”
“Oh, I see,” said Debbie. “Well, let me tell you about the firm and what we do here.”