A Good Excuse To Be Bad

by Miranda Parker

  “Everything is fine. Actually, I’m calling to find out if you’re okay. I heard you screaming.”

  “How did you hear me? Are you outside my house again?”

  “No, not exactly. I needed to take a jog.” He chuckled. “For some reason, I couldn’t sleep. Why are you awake? Is it because of Ava?”

  “Are you psychic, too?”

  “No, but I saw someone that resembled you back out of your driveway in the same nice car I noticed parked in it when I dropped by earlier today.”

  “Oh, yes.” I shook my head. “Yes, you did. How is Kelly, by the way?”

  “She’s fine. She just got home. From where, I have no clue.”

  “You gotta be kidding me.”

  “No, I wouldn’t kid about the real reason I’m jogging around the neighborhood at one in the morning.” He huffed. “I needed to burn off some steam before I returned home.”

  “I’m sorry.” Whitney knelt beside me and leaned her head on the other side of the receiver. I rolled my eyes at her. “I know how taxing family can be.”

  “I’m scared for Kelly, and that makes me feel helpless,” he said.

  “Again, I know exactly how you feel, but I can’t talk. I have to see about Ava. Something is horribly wrong.”

  Whitney tapped my shoulder. “We need to get to Decatur before something else bad happens to Ava.”

  “You’re right. I do,” I said to Whitney, then stood up.

  “What do you mean?” Justus asked. “Where are you going?”

  I waved Whitney off again. “I’m going to Ava’s home, to see if she’s okay.”

  “No, we all are,” Whitney shouted.

  I turned to Whitney. “What did I tell you?”

  She folded her arms and pouted. “She’s my sister, too.”

  “I know that.” I huffed. “Justus, I need a favor. Whitney has finals in the morning and she needs her sleep. Plus, if something goes down, I definitely don’t want her caught in between. She’s pre-law, if you know what I mean. And to be honest, I need a tagalong that won’t piss Ava off.”

  “I see.” Justus sighed. “Why don’t you call the police? They’re better suited for this sort of thing and they can arrive at Ava’s within minutes. Realistically, you’re an hour away. By the time we got there, who knows what could happen.”

  “We?” I sat up straighter. “As in you would be my wing man if... ?”

  “No, you don’t.” Whitney shook her bag. “I’m ready to roll. He can stay here and watch the kids.”

  I shushed her. “You’re staying here and protecting the house.”

  Whitney threw the bag on the bed. “Why don’t you admit that you want a good excuse to be with Justus tonight?”

  “Hush!” I tried to cover the phone, but it was too late. I cringed. “Justus, are you there?”

  “I’m outside your house right now,” he said. His voice was deep and dark like Ms. Ida’s six-layer chocolate cake.

  “Now?”

  “Nope, now I’m at your door.” He hung up.

  The doorbell rang.

  I held the phone in my hand. My mouth fell wide open. “He’s downstairs.”

  “Who?” Whitney asked.

  “Justus.”

  “Girl, stop.”

  “I’m not joking, so you better cool it when I let him in the house or one of those hammers in your bag will mysteriously find your backside.”

  I threw on a robe, bopped back downstairs, and opened the door.

  “Angel . . .”

  I had never met a man who could say my name and make me feel like a queen at the same time. My jaw dropped. His locks were pulled back into a ponytail. He wore a Polo track suit jacket with matching shorts. He hugged me.

  I exhaled into Justus’s close cuddle. I liked my new friend too much.

  Justus released me. “Are you ready?”

  I nodded and reached for my keys. “I’ll drive.”

  Justus and I sped down southeast I-85 toward Dekalb County. The Atlanta skyline vanished, returned, and then faded again into the night over hills and around curves and kudzu. The drive reminded me of Ava’s disappearing acts earlier. What was going on with her? I was so afraid for what it might be. In my past, I had seen things, things hidden behind the sanctity of marriage, things that would turn a single woman cold to falling in love. My arms shivered and my legs twitched as I recalled those horrible things. I had to get to my sister fast. I gripped the wheel and floored it.

  Justus sat in the passenger seat. I glanced at him. His jaw was clenched. I looked down past his legs. His feet were dug into my floorboard. My speeding had unnerved him. I shook my head in chastisement, then lifted my foot off the gas and slowed down.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I’m anxious.”

  He nodded. “No apologies. I understand.”

  I smiled. I really liked the little bit I knew of him. I glanced at him again.

  “Thank you for coming with me. I know this seems unorthodox, but I didn’t have anyone else to turn to tonight.” I headed eastbound on Spaghetti Junction. “Whitney needs to be home with the kids and my mom is away.”

  “What about the brunch ladies? Are you friends with any of them?”

  “Not like I should be.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s hard for people who share their secrets with you on a professional level to also want to be friends with you.”

  “Is everyone in the group your client?”

  “No, but it’s an excuse. I have many.” I sighed. “I need to do better as a friend to those women. I don’t know how to be vulnerable and tough at the same time.”

  “You will in time . . . I’m honored you thought enough of me to let me be here for you.”

  “Well, you’re my pastor.” I smirked. “If I can’t come to you with this kind of mess, then what good are you?”

  He laughed. “So true.”

  I noticed the time on the dashboard. If Ava had gone home, she would be there by now.

  “Could you use my phone to call Ava’s cell for me?” I asked. “I want to let her know we’re on our way.”

  “Sure.” He reached for my phone, dialed, then waited. “Your sister isn’t answering the house phone or her cell. Are you sure she’s home?”

  I nodded. “Call it twin-tuition. She’s there.”

  My gut, however, bubbled and screamed. Don’t go down there, girlfriend. I sped up despite myself.

  Justus gripped the seat. “Slow down, Angel. We’ll get there when we’re supposed to.” His voice was soft, yet stern.

  I eased off the gas.

  He sighed. “Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry. Can you call my home and ask Whitney whether or not Ava has called?”

  “Okay.” He huffed again. “I understand your motive for rushing, but I’ve heard great things about Bishop McArthur. I don’t think he would ever hurt your sister. Is there a history of violence between them?”

  “Not with them. With me. Devon and I have a long, bad history.”

  “What?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “We have about thirty minutes to go before we reach Decatur, so take your time, literally.” He nestled into the passenger seat.

  “Once upon a time . . .” I sighed, then told him about my life—why up until this week Ava had stopped talking to me, and the real reason I launched Angel Watch Bail Recovery Agency after taking a contract gig with Tiger.

  6

  Friday, 1:30 AM

  The McArthur Estate, Stone Mountain, GA

  I hadn’t been to the McArthur Mansion in a minute, but to say that they had had an extreme makeover would be a flat-out lie. From the security gate, we saw magnolia motley lining the front façade, a marble water fountain that twinkled in the night, and a home that made my place look smaller and less approachable than Granny’s old outhouse. And the gate looked like something from a Mission Impossible movie. I stared at the gate. When did all this happen?

  “D
o you know the password?” Justus pointed at the security pad at the foot of the gate.

  “Nope.” I pressed a few buttons until the gate opened.

  Justus’s left eyebrow almost lifted past his forehead. He chuckled. “Yes, you did.”

  “No, I guessed. You know, twin-power.” I touched my forehead while the gates opened, then drove forward. “Sometimes I think Ava’s in my head.”

  “Is that true? Can you guys read each other’s minds?”

  “Nope, but stranger things have happened.”

  “Of course. What was I thinking? My nephews . . . the things they come up with. It makes me wonder sometimes.”

  “Mmmm . . .” I sighed as I veered right into the curve of the front drive. “Ava and I aren’t close enough anymore to feel anything but disdain for each other.”

  “There must be something there between you, because your guess was a good one.”

  “It was, wasn’t it?”

  I parked my car in the front drive, a bit away from the fountain. I didn’t want water messing up my new wax job. Justus stepped out, walked around to my side, then opened the door. He held his hand out for me. I hesitated before I took it.

  He looked at me. “Having second thoughts?”

  I looked down at my hands. They trembled. The lie about the keypad entry and Ava’s drop-off had my nerves bad. I shook my head. “Nope, I’m good to go.”

  Yep, I lied again. Call it a talent. Yet, this time Justus didn’t seem to buy it. He wouldn’t let my hand go. He stood in front of me and said nothing, but I could tell his eyes were searching for the truth. He had great eyes.

  “Justus, let’s go. It’s too quiet out here. I don’t like it.” I searched the grounds as we walked toward the front door.

  The place was lit like an elegant Christmas tree. I wondered how they slept with all these lights on in the front. We stopped short of the double entrance doors and he turned to me.

  “Before we go inside, I need to tell you something that I’ve wanted to say long before you called me tonight,” he said.

  My heart skipped again. “What is it?”

  He opened his mouth, then a toe-curling shriek rippled through my body. It was a woman’s scream. I dropped his hands and turned toward where the sound came from.

  “What was that?” Justus asked.

  “Ava.” I leaned on the doorbell.

  I didn’t have a key or a clue how to get inside, but I saw two huge planters flanking the door. I reached for one. It looked heavy, but I was capable of throwing it. Thank goodness I had carried Bella’s forty-pound body all over the place. I lifted that planter off the ground so fast and without a sweat, but Justus caught my arm.

  He took the planter out of my hand and placed it back down. “No sense in you going to jail for breaking and entering. Let’s call 911.”

  “You call. I’m going in.” I leaned down to grab the planter again.

  “Wait . . .” He walked toward the door, jiggled the knob, and opened it. “This is how most robbers get in.”

  I watched him in disbelief. “I thought you didn’t look like the kind of person who always walked the straight and narrow.”

  “I haven’t always been saved.” He grinned. “Another thing we have in common.”

  “What about 911?” I asked.

  “I got it. Go.”

  Without hesitation, I tiptoed inside.

  No alarms went off when I walked inside, which meant for me that either Devon left the alarm off with hopes that Ava would return, or that Ava had already returned but forgot to turn the alarm back on. If the latter, I wondered why she forgot¸ especially since she acted like a bodyguard on adrenaline in my home. I had a sinking feeling that the correct answer wasn’t a good one.

  As I walked through the foyer, I listened for more screaming. The only sound I heard came from upstairs. It was a moaning that gave me more shivers. I hadn’t heard that sound since Granny died.

  Something caught my shoulder from behind. I jumped, then panted.

  “It’s me,” Justus whispered.

  I spun around and punched his right shoulder. “Don’t scare me like that.”

  I winced. It was solid muscle. I wrang my hands.

  He took my throbbing hands in his. “Careful. You may hurt yourself.”

  “Whatever.” I slid my hand away from his. “What did the police say? Are they on their way? And you’re supposed to stay outside.”

  “Yes, I called the police, but I’m not letting you go up there alone. Actually, I think we both should go back outside and wait for them.”

  Boom. Something fell upstairs.

  I looked above me, then back to Justus. “Stay. I mean it.”

  Then I tiptoed toward the staircase and looked around. On the inside, the McMansion was pretty and quiet like a snow day, even in the dark. A white baby grand piano sat in the grand room, which led to a white rose-covered sitting room. I wondered if Taylor and Lil’ D ever played in there. Probably not. Ava was the kind of person who lived and died by rules and room restrictions. The children more than likely had their own playroom hidden in a wall around here somewhere. There wasn’t even a scent of crayons and burnt cookies in the air.

  I saw a picture of Bella on a table in the living room that made me feel like a horrible aunt. The noises became clearer now, and I followed it up the staircase until I reached the end of the hall. I felt for my cell phone stun gun in my back pocket. It wasn’t my real phone, but a decoy Taser and flashlight. It was girly pink, too. If I only remembered one thing from my ten years in Girl Scouts, it was to always be prepared. I definitely was tonight. This baby could put out 900,000 volts.

  Justus pointed toward the last door on the left.

  I stopped. “What are you doing up here?” I grunted through my teeth.

  “Shhh . . .” He pointed at a gold-plated nameplate on the door. It read, THE BISHOP’S STUDY. I looked at Justus. This was where the noise came from. I felt my lips tighten. I knew Devon was behind all this drama. I didn’t want to go in there. I didn’t want to be right for the first time in my life.

  Justus looked at me and mouthed, Ready?

  My heart raced. I could hear it pounding in my ears. I stepped back. I clutched Justus’s hand. I was too scared to answer. I stood there frozen. What was wrong with me? I wasn’t afraid of anything, so why was I scared now?

  Justus twirled me around until I was behind him. “Stay back here. I’ll knock.”

  I nodded, but totally forgot his request when I heard Ava scream, “Devon!”

  I pushed Justus out of the way, swung the door open, and saw nothing but Devon’s plaques hanging on the wall. It was dark, except for a dim light around the corner. I stepped around and peaked.

  “Devon,” Ava wailed some more. Her voice came from the other side of the wall. “Rachel?”

  “No, Ava, it’s me,” I yelled.

  My heart fell into my tennis shoes. It beat on my toes. I stepped forward and then back. My toes tingled now. My head throbbed so loud I could feel my heart beating now.

  Justus grabbed me. “Stay behind me for real this time.”

  I nodded. I couldn’t speak; I felt helpless. Out of all the dangerous situations I had involved myself in, I couldn’t pull my wits together to do what I could usually do in my sleep. I wasn’t afraid of what would happen to me. I was afraid of what I might see had happened to Ava. I was more afraid of what I could do to Devon, if it was as bad as I thought.

  “Angel?” she asked between sobs. “Don’t come in here.”

  “It’s too late.” I clutched Justus’s shirt, then walked around the corner where she was.

  I peeked, then gasped. I wasn’t ready for what I saw. Devon lay on the floor in front of his desk. Ava knelt beside him, praying and crying. Dark, thick blood oozed from his side, past her hands, knees, and through the once-white carpet. It was too much blood for me. I became nauseous and light-headed. I stumbled back. Justus caught me.

  “Is he dead?”
r />   “Not sure, but it doesn’t look good,” Justus said.

  “I’m going to have to get a closer look.”

  He caught my hand. “Angel, trust me. You don’t need to see this.”

  The last time I had seen Bella’s father alive flashed through my mind. I jolted and dropped Justus’s hand.

  “Angel, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I stepped forward. “Justus, don’t get it twisted. I’ve seen worse and he needs medical attention now.”

  “Then I’ll do it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m trained to.”

  My brows puckered. “To do what?”

  “I was a Navy Hospital Corpsman for the Marine Corps.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, then check to see if he’s bleeding. If he is, then he’s still alive.”

  “I know.” Justus rolled his eyes. “Just stay back there.”

  He walked toward Ava.

  “I’m calling 911 back. They should be here by now.” Justus knelt over Devon’s body. “There’s a lot of blood, but he’s not bleeding. I think he’s gone.”

  I lowered my head. This couldn’t be happening again.

  Justus whispered the Twenty-third Psalm. My chest tightened more then and my throat burned. He recited that psalm during devotional service on days when I felt most broken.

  Once I could control my tears, I asked, “How long has it been since you called 911?”

  He checked his watch. “Maybe seven minutes.”

  “They should be here any minute now, then. Call them again and tell them there’s a possible death at the residence.”

  I didn’t like saying those words. I didn’t like the implication for Ava once Justus made that call. I couldn’t believe that she would come back here to kill Devon. Ava didn’t have a mean bone in her body. Our mother’s evil streak resided in me and Whitney.

  I stepped closer toward Ava; then I hopped back like I just saw a big Okefenokee Swamp rat.

  A knife rested near her right foot. It was an eight-inch blade Wüsthof cook’s knife, to be exact. I knew the knife well, because seven years ago I found myself in the middle of a Southern Living Home Décor bidding war with my bunco buddies over that last available must-have knife. It was my wedding gift to Ava. Now I wished I hadn’t shelled out $150 for the thing, and instead had bought a cheaper one that didn’t cut so clean and sharp.