“Where’d you go after leaving the civic center?” I ask Derrick.
“To Rex’s car to smoke weed,” he says. “Then we went to The Place.”
“Where’d y’all get the weed?” I ask.
“Same place everybody did,” Rex says. “Justice Witney.”
“Was he down here that night?” I ask. “Anybody remember seeing him?”
Several of them nod.
“I bought from him that night,” Derrick says.
“He was always on the periphery,” Kathryn says. “But he was always around.”
“I guarantee he didn’t go hear any poetry be read,” Billy says, his words wet, his voice whistley, “but he was down here hanging around making sales, talking shit. Sumbitch knows he likes to talk.”
“Did any of you see him with or near Angel or Qwon that night?” I ask.
Most shake their heads. A few say no.
McKenna says, “They were at some of the same places at the same time, but I never saw them together or even speak.”
“Where’d everybody go after leaving here?” Kathryn says.
About half the group went to The Place on Grace and the other half went to the Visual Arts Center.
“We’re closer to the VAC from here,” Kathryn says. “Want to walk there next?”
I nod.
We continue up Harrison and cross 4th Street to the Visual Arts Center, which was recently renamed Panama City Center for the Arts.
Located in a Spanish style two-story stone building with a terra-cotta roof, the building that will always be the VAC to me was once a jail, and is now an art gallery and event center.
“Most of us came here just killing time,” McKenna says. “It was something to do while we waited to go to Kim and Ken’s.”
“I came ’cause they had wine at the reception,” Billy says.
“Yeah, me too,” Rex says.
“It was a cool exhibit,” Amber says. “Most of the works had words in them, sort of like a marriage of poetry and painting. I really liked it.”
“I liked the wine,” Derrick says.
Everyone laughs.
“None of us, not the art lovers or the winos stayed long,” Kathryn says. “But it was cool how they had a theme to go with what Maya had just done at the civic center.”
“Did any of you see Qwon and Angel?” I ask.
“I did,” McKenna says.
“Me too,” Paige adds.
Several of the others join in.
“Anything stand out?” Kathryn asks.
They shake their heads.
“Not that I can recall,” Billy says.
“Were they drinking the wine or had they been smoking?” I ask.
Amber shakes her head. “No. Not that you could tell.”
“They were,” Billy says.
“Really?” Amber asks.
“Yeah,” he says, nodding, his hat moving about on his bushy hair. “Both.”
“Well, I couldn’t tell.”
“Anyone see Justice here?” I ask.
“I did,” Eric says.
It’s the first time he’s spoken in a while and everyone turns toward him as if they’d forgotten he was there.
“He consumed a good deal of the free wine too,” he says.
Everyone waits but he doesn’t add anything else.
“Okay,” Kathryn says, “Shall we head over to The Place?”
We all turn and our small herd crosses Harrison and pauses at the Martin Theater.
I notice that Darius is staying close to Kathryn, even taking her arm as we cross the street.
Kathryn turns toward me and says, “We’re going over to where it was, not where it is now, right?”
The Place on Grace is now just The Place and is located on Harrison on the other side of the Martin, only a single storefront between them.
“Right.”
“You sure?” Billy says. “It’s about dinner time. I sure could go for one of their big ass burgers.”
Darius says, “Why don’t we all go there for dinner together after we’re done?” Though he’s supposedly asking everyone, he’s only looking at Kathryn.
“Cool,” Billy says.
“I’m down,” Derrick says.
“Sounds fun,” MeKenna says. “Having our own little mini class reunion.”
“Well, let’s get moving,” Amber says. “I missed lunch today and now y’all’ve got me starvin’.”
We walk down the sidewalk then cut through the parking lot behind the Martin to the old mini mall where The Place once was.
Though the old building is the same, it now houses a bar, a pizza place, a coffee shop, and has a back room used for a comedy club about once a month.
Billy says, “Did you all see Qwon and Angel here? Anything stand out? Was Justice here?” His tone is light and maybe even a little mocking.
“You need to take this seriously,” Eric says. “Our friend was murdered and another one of our friends has been . . . rottin’ in prison for the past eighteen years and I don’t think he did it.”
As Eric talks, he actually takes a step toward Billy, and I wonder if perhaps Billy, who is much bigger than Eric even now, bullied him back in school.
Billy opens his mouth to say something, but Eric takes another step toward him and says, “What?”
184
“Sorry man,” Billy says, swallowing some of the excess spit in his mouth. “Didn’t mean anything by it. I’m takin’ this seriously. Why I’m here. Was just playing a little ’cause I’m hungry.”
“What about the answer to those questions?” Kathryn says.
“We saw Qwon and Angel here,” Darius says. “By that time, we had all sort of fallen in together and were going from one place to another as a group.”
She nods.
“But I don’t remember seeing Justice,” he says.
“He was here,” Amber says. “At least at some point. I remember seeing him. Wow. I just remembered something. He was like leering at Angel when she and Qwon danced. Guess it didn’t stand out ’cause he was always doing shit like that, but . . . he was really—it made me uncomfortable.”
“I remember that, too,” Paige says. “I always avoided him—even eye contact with him—but I always knew where he was. Tried to keep an eye on him. I remember him looking all lasciviously at her.”
“Now that you say that . . . I remember Qwon stepping over to him and saying something,” Derrick says. “It was real quick. Less than a minute. Didn’t really think anything of it at the time, but . . . now . . . Justice left pretty soon after that.”
Rex nods. “I remember that.”
“I just remember how good the band was,” MeKenna says, “and that everyone was starting to get buzzed from the wine at the reception, the weed, and whatever else they were sneaking out to their cars to get. The later it got, the tighter.”
“I’s sure as shit lit by then,” Billy says.
In dress and manner Billy is more prototypically redneck than anyone else in the group, and I wonder if there were others who just weren’t able to make it tonight or if he was an anomaly even back then.
“Next we went to the Fiesta,” Kathryn says. “At least some of us did.”
“Let’s go there and split up just like y’all did that night,” I say.
We walk back down Grace, cross over 4th, up through a back alley and pop out on Harrison at C&G Sporting Goods, cross the street and walk a block down to the two fantastic old buildings that once housed the best club in town.
Sitting at the corner of Beach and Harrison, The Royale Lounge is in one building and The Fiesta Room is in another, with a cool courtyard between them that feels as close to New Orleans as anything in Panama City.
We stand admiring the buildings and courtyard for a moment, mourning this fun, welcoming place that is no more, then walk around to the back.
Standing close to the back entrance, they split up into two groups—those who went into Fiesta and those who didn’t.
“Of those of you who didn’t,” I say, “who walked down to Kim and Ken’s?”
Paige raises her hand. “Angel and I walked down there together.”
“See anybody on the way? Anyone mess with y’all?”
She shakes her head, but glances over at Eric.
“I didn’t go in,” Rex says, “but I went back to my car to smoke some more.”
“I went over to the park,” Derrick says. “Don’t care for this place.”
Eric says, “I wasn’t really with this group. I came a little later. By the time I got here, everyone was dancing and carrying on, pretty drunk by then.”
“We had a guy sneaking us drinks,” Kathryn says. “Were all pretty wasted.”
“Yeah,” Eric says, “but nobody more than Qwon.”
“I’d say I gave him a run for his money,” Kathryn says.
“We all did,” Amber says.
“He was way too fucked up to kill anybody,” Billy says. “Hell, what I remember was how much he was lovin’ on everybody.”
“We sort of all were, weren’t we?” Amber says.
“It was that kind of night,” MeKenna says. “We were lit, sure, but we were also inspired by Maya and I think . . . a little nostalgic. Last year of school together. I don’t know.”
“It was a love fest,” Kathryn says. “We were all dancing together, hugging and kissing and saying sweet things to each other. Nobody was thinking about killing anyone.”
“I decided to leave after a little while,” Eric says. “To be honest, I felt left out of the . . . of all the . . . of what y’all were doing. Decided to—”
“I’m sorry,” Kathryn says, and steps over and hugs him.
Amber and McKenna join her and they all wrap him up in a long group hug.
In a matter of moments, he breaks down and starts crying. Soon he’s sobbing.
“It’s okay,” Kathryn says.
“Yeah,” McKenna says. “Let it out.”
He cries for maybe a minute while they hold him, then begins to pull himself together as the three women let him go and step back.
“Fuckin’ high school man,” Billy says. “Sorry bro. I know I was a dick. Wasn’t personal, but . . . I’m sorry. I really am.”
“We all are,” Rex says.
“I know y’all think I killed her,” Eric says between sniffles, “but I didn’t. I loved her. I’ve never hurt anyone in my whole life. I would never . . . do . . . anything . . . to . . . anyone, but especially her.”
“We don’t think you did,” Amber says.
“I’ll be honest,” Billy says, “I thought you might have.”
Everyone laughs. Even Eric. “I didn’t kill her. I swear.”
“Continue with what you were saying,” I say.
“I . . . I decided to walk down to Kim and Ken’s. As I was leaving, Qwon stumbled out the back door. I thought maybe he was going on down to the party too, but . . . he went around the front of the building.”
“He was getting us some more goodies from the car,” Billy says. “Refilling the flask. Seeing if he could find any more E.”
“I came to the back door and shouted for him to grab my coat,” Kathryn says. “I wanted it for when we walked down to Kim and Ken’s, but he was already around the corner. So I went to the corner of the building and shouted to him. He heard me that time.” She looks at Eric. “You must have already been through the parking lot and down a little ways on Beach ’cause I don’t remember seeing you.”
“Think I was.”
“But as I turned to walk back over to the door,” she says, “I saw Justice Witney on the opposite side of Beach, sort of over behind St. Andrews Towers, heading toward Kim and Ken’s. He was walking very slowly and smoking. I remember that.”
“Did you tell the cops?” Amber asks.
“How about Qwon’s defense attorney?” McKenna says.
She nods and frowns. “It was just dismissed as a sister lying to help her brother. Same as our statements and polygraph tests and everything. I kept saying he’s not my brother. Our parents just married recently. I wouldn’t lie for him or anyone else I thought even might have killed Angel or anyone else.”
“They kept saying we were all lying to cover up for Qwon,” McKenna says. “But we weren’t.”
I turn to Eric. “Did you see Justice on Beach?”
He shakes his head. “I . . . but I never turned around. Never looked back. But if he was . . . that means when Angel passed me . . . she was walking directly toward him.”
“What did you do?” McKenna asks.
“Angel and I said hello, exchanged a little small talk but I kept going toward the party ’cause I didn’t want her to think I was following her or had just come down there to see her. When I got to the house I kept walking. I circled around to Cove then back up 4th. Took a while. By the time I got back downtown, I just decided to go home.”
“And whatever happened to Angel probably had already,” Kathryn says.
“I should’ve walked her back up here.” Eric says.
“Did she say where she was headed?” Kathryn asks.
“Said she was bored, tired of just standing around waiting, wanted to get her coat anyway and would probably just wait up there for y’all or see if she could sneak in Fiesta. Said she’d see me back at the party later and maybe we could dance together if I wanted to. She was always so decent to me. So kind. Those were the last words she ever said to me, the last time I ever saw her.”
Kathryn shakes her head. “I waited by the back door for Qwon to come back with my jacket, just getting some fresh air. The smoke was always like a thick fog in Fiesta. I almost started to walk on down to the party, but Qwon was back so quick and . . . Darius was still inside and we were having so much fun. If we had all just left a little sooner. Justice was down there on that dark street with Angel. Just the two of them.”
“But wait,” Derrick says. “When I walked from the park to Kim and Ken’s, I saw you at the back door.”
Kathryn nods. “I remember you waving.”
“I walked straight down Beach to Kim and Ken’s and . . . I didn’t see Justice. Saw Angel, but not him.”
“Really?”
“Had to be within a few minutes,” Derrick adds, “or even less of Eric, Justice, and Angel all being on Beach and I only saw Angel.”
“He must’ve been hiding,” Billy says. “Waiting there in the shadows to pounce and rape and kill our friend. You could’ve walked within a few feet of him and not even known.”
“Seems like I would’ve heard something,” he says, “but . . . wow, what if I did? I wish I had known, wish to God I heard something. I would have . . . fucked him up.”
“Can’t believe while all that was going on all I could do was think how much I wanted one more dance with Qwon,” Amber says. “Grabbed him as soon as he came in the door. We just didn’t know Angel was in such . . . we had no idea. If we had, of course we would’ve been down there protecting her.”
“Not that she ever seemed like she needed protecting,” Rex says.
“No wonder Justice knew everything to say to the cops to set up Qwon,” McKenna says. “He did it. He knew everything.”
“Of course he did,” Billy says. “We knew Qwon couldn’t’ve done it. He was back inside with us. Had been gone less than like eight minutes. We were all drinking and dancing again while that motherfucker was killin’ her.”
185
Billy having convinced us that we could discuss the rest of the evening in the warmth and comfort of The Place while eating cheeseburgers, we are now seated around a long rectangular table in the back near the stage.
On the stage, in a rare weeknight performance, local musician Aaron Bearden is performing an acoustic set of originals. Ordinarily he plays guitar and sings with two bands in town, Turtlefoot and 4th Street, but it’s just him tonight, and he tells us during his first break that he’s rehearsing new music he’s about to take on the road with a bassist and dru
mmer from indie bands we should recognize but don’t.
Acoustic sets are my favorite and the one he’s playing is particularly good, the lyrics smart, literate, and touching, and it reminds me of Jason Isbell and early Gin Blossoms. Aaron’s music makes for a nice backdrop to our conversation.
McKenna says, “Where the hell’d our lives go and what did we do with them?”
“I’ve done exactly shit with mine,” Billy says.
“Don’t feel like I’ve done much,” Derrick says. “Especially given how much time I’ve had.”
“What life?” Kathryn says. “I have no life.”
“You kidding?” McKenna says. “You’re the only one who’s actually done something with your life. You dedicated yours to something real, a cause, something greater than a sad, selfish little existence.”
“I propose a toast,” Amber says, raising her glass of beer. “To Kathryn, who after all this time is still fighting the good fight. The very definition of devotion, faithfulness, love, and seeking justice. To Kathryn.”
“To Kathryn,” we all say.
Glasses clink. Sips are taken.
“Not many people would’ve have done what you’ve done,” McKenna says.
“Not many could have,” Darius says. “Qwon is lucky to have you and we’re honored to know you.”
Kathryn is visibly touched but also clearly embarrassed. “Thank you,” she says to Darius, and I wonder if there’s not a little something rekindling inside them both. “Thank you all, but the truth is . . . I haven’t accomplished anything yet. All my efforts. All this time. Nothing has come of it so far, but I’m really hopeful something will now, so thank you all for helping us tonight. Now let’s get back to the case, okay?”
“Okay,” Billy says, as if a child acquiescing to a parent. “Yes, ma’am.”
“So we all sort of stumble down Beach to Kim and Ken’s,” Kathryn is saying, “and when we get there and start looking for Angel and find out she’s not there, a couple of us go looking for her. Me, Qwon, Darius—”
“And me,” McKenna says.
“We were not in the best of shape to be searching for anyone,” Darius says. “Could hardly walk.”
True Crime Fiction Page 74