“Yes,” she responded, then held her head down.
“You know, Adrianna, it’s good to talk about your feelings,” I said as I rubbed her back gently.
“I guess so. For now, I’m done. I need to get home and get plenty of rest before I take the exam at eleven o’clock tomorrow morning,” she said.
I walked Adrianna to the door and watched as she got into her car safely and drove off. After she left, I compared the sketch I’d drawn to the actual driver’s license of the culprit. It was amazing how the two were so similar, all the way down to the birthmark on the right side of his face.
For the next two weeks, I studied this man’s schedule, deciding when, where, and how I was going to strike. He was married with two small children. An older woman lived with them. I assumed it was one of their parents. Richardson worked for a power plant company in Newport News. He left for work at twenty minutes after four faithfully every morning.
I planned my execution very carefully. Killing Richardson would be the ultimate gratification. Dressed in black equipped with a matching black pack, I surveyed around his work building to make sure there were not any visible cameras. I made sure both of my license plates were covered up before parking in the back of a nearby run-down hotel. I watched as Richardson pulled up. As I crept up closer to the car, he was singing along with the music playing on the radio with his eyes closed. Within no time, I hopped in the car. He didn’t even notice me until I sat down in the back.
“Turn the music off,” I demanded, feeling a rush of adrenaline.
“What!” he replied.
I pulled out my knife and pressed it into the side of his face. “Can you hear me now?” I asked.
“Yes.” He nodded, turning pale.
“Turn the music off,” I repeated and he immediately did so by pressing a button.
“Music is off. Please just take the car. I will give you my wallet,” he begged.
“I don’t want your car and I don’t want your wallet, Mr. Richardson,” I explained, slowly slicing into his throat.
“What do you want?”
“Your heart to burn in hell. She never did anything to you.”
“Who? What are you talking about?” he asked in a panic.
“The young girl you raped.”
His eyes immediately looked down with a guilty look. “She was a whore working in a whorehouse. So what about that spells rape? She wanted it. Most of them do,” he said cockily.
“Is that right? Is that how you rationalize it in your mind?”
“Yes. I’m looking into your eyes and I can tell that you want it, too. Come on, relax, let’s take this down a notch and climb in the back seat for some fun,” he offered.
“No,” I yelled.
“You may want to reconsider your decision,” he said and then attempted to reach for the glove compartment. I gave him a hard blow to the temple with the back end of my knife.
“Okay, okay, okay,” he screamed while holding his head.
“Hold your arms up,” I demanded.
This time he did exactly what he was told. I had to confirm what Adrianna said about the burn. Yes, it was there.
“Richardson, there may have been a chance I’d let you live if you had shown a little remorse, but obviously you don’t feel guilty at all for your actions. Tonight, your family is simply going to have to eat dinner without you,” I said.
There was no way he was going to be set free and run. I was just trying to get into his head. It worked because he begged. He repeatedly begged and I laughed.
I cut him with the knife right above the eyes. This gave me enough seconds to climb over into the passenger seat. I got the urge to carve his eyes out. He screamed in agony. I laughed again. Seeing him suffer gave me so much joy. I opened the glove compartment to see what was in there. It was a small pistol. I grabbed it and cocked it.
“Get out of the car,” I instructed.
“I can’t see,” he whimpered.
“I’m not telling you again.”
He managed to get out of the car. I pressed the button to open the trunk on my way out. I pushed him toward the back of the car. I pressed the tip of the gun into his balls and instructed him to get into the trunk. I wasted no time pulling out my torch from my backpack and lighting Richardson’s body up.
The James River was close by. The fog was thick that early morning. I drove along the coast until I found the perfect location. I placed the car in drive and let it glide into the river.
It was still dark outside. It wasn’t time for the sun to make its presence known. At a nearby tree, I quickly changed my clothes into sweats and placed them into my backpack. It took me thirty minutes to get back to my car. To people who had noticed me, it appeared as if I was taking a morning jog.
I smiled the entire drive home. I was pleased to know that I had gotten justice for Adrianna and maybe even for myself, too. To many, I could be painted as a serial killer, but I truly saw myself as a vigilante.
Chapter 32
The Verdict
At the lab, a bouquet of gardenia flowers was sent to me by none other than Nathan Watts, the insurance agent. Also, he sent a dozen of fresh-baked cookies of various flavors. It was a hit with my coworkers. We all loved to snack. He’d called and sent me texts several times. He was pursuing me hard and not giving up without a fight. I found that rather cute. After all, I did find the guy rather attractive. Not only that, he had such a good heart. I’d seen it many times in the way he treated George.
I grabbed a cookie and admired my flowers, then grabbed the card that was embedded. It read:
I just wanted to brighten up your day.
Nathan
Well, you can’t stop a man from trying, I thought as I placed the card in my purse. Then I grabbed the flowers as I left the lab for the day. I had to admit that I loved the chase.
Lounging on the couch with Fera was one my favorite pastimes. Working all day at the lab and then staying up all night to collect money and watch over the women at the business was beginning to take its toll on me. Heather continued to put the bug in my ear for us to finally get a building. To be honest, I didn’t want to deal with a monthly loan, clients, employees, payroll, and everything else that goes along with having a legit business.
I turned on the television to the news. They were running a segment on a dog show that would be held at Chesapeake City Park. Next, the news reporter was interviewing a widow sobbing about the loss of her husband. I tuned in. The lady was none other than the widow of Tommy, the prick who I killed at the gas station.
I felt a moment of sadness as pictures of his children flashed across the screen and his widow cried. She had no idea she was married to a monster. I never understood how bad people attempted to portray good lives. At some point, good and evil always collided. His wife wanted the killer brought to justice. Unfortunately, that will never happen, I thought, giggling to myself then turning off the television.
All of a sudden, I felt a wave of nausea come over me. I barely made it to the bathroom to vomit. After I was finished and brushed my teeth, I started thinking about everything that I ate. All I could remember eating was a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast and a turkey sandwich for lunch. I had the stomach bug before. This definitely wasn’t the stomach bug. All I could hear was Joyce reminding me to always keep peppermint candy and saltine crackers around. It cuts down on the nausea. I ran to the pantry. Fortunately, I did have a bag of peppermint there. There were no saltine crackers. I immediately ate two peppermint candies. Fera ran over to me in the kitchen to make sure that I was all right. I decided to make a cup of ginger tea, hoping it would settle my stomach. I didn’t have any soup and I surely didn’t feel like going to the store.
Within minutes, the tea kettle started whistling. As I poured the tea, I began to think long and hard, racking my brain trying to figure out what could be wrong.
“Oh my God! My period was late. That’s why I’m sick!” I yelled and dropped the tea kettle.
> I ran out of the house with Fera in pure adrenaline and headed to the drug store. I didn’t want to waste any more time thinking about my last period or calling a girlfriend to actually discuss the matter.
After I left the drug store with three different brands of pregnancy tests, I raced back home. I gulped down three bottles of water. All three of the pregnancy tests came out positive. I knew I had slept with two men since my last period but I was sure to use condoms. Then I remembered . . . Larry. The last time I had sex with Larry the condom broke. I told him not to worry about it because I had planned to take the morning-after pill, but the next day it slipped my mind. I was certain I was pregnant with Larry’s child and I damn sure wasn’t going to tell him. He was already trying to save me. Me being pregnant with his child would send him over the edge. Larry wanted to be the one who played the role of savior from my abusive childhood. Not to mention, his wife and child died. He would be overjoyed to get a second chance at fatherhood. I couldn’t deal with that. I was certain to have been at least six to seven weeks along. I made sure to be so careful. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me! I regularly got tested for STDs and always used condoms.
The next morning, I made an appointment with a local abortion clinic in the area. The Web site stated that they were very discrete. Mentally, physically, emotionally, I wasn’t ready for a child. I didn’t want to tell anyone because I wasn’t interested in hearing anyone’s opinion. I knew the baby’s soul would float to heaven and Joyce would watch over that child for me. One thing for sure was there wouldn’t be a next time. I would be more responsible and take better precautions.
“Ms. Farmer,” the nurse called me back. “How are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m okay and ready to get this over with,” I explained, handing her the $400 in cash.
The nurse went over how the procedure would be performed and gave me an opportunity to choose other options. My mind was made up.
“The doctor will be in shortly,” she said and then closed the door.
I changed into the exam gown and minutes later, there was a knock on the door.
“Angela, I’m Dr. Moran. A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be in a place like this. I don’t ever want to see you back her again,” he said after he and the nurse came back into the exam room.
“Yes, sir.” I nodded my head.
“Lay back, open your legs; this will be over soon,” he explained.
I chose to be put to sleep. I didn’t want to remember or see anything. As the anesthesia kicked in, I dozed off to sleep.
“We’ll be waiting for you,” Joyce gently spoke, holding a baby in a green blanket.
When I awoke, it was all over. After lying down for an hour, the nurse called a cab to take me home. I didn’t want to run the risk of someone spotting my car in the parking lot, especially Larry. I never knew what city he was working in. Larry has already been hurt too much in his life. I didn’t want to add to it.
Over the next two days, I took some time off at the lab. Fera and I headed to George’s house. I could tell in his voice over the phone that he had something to say.
When I walked in, I knew Betty would have her behind plopped on the couch. It was as if it were her permanent spot. She looked at me as the enemy attempting to kidnap George rather than a granddaughter. I realized it was partially my fault because I had been so unkind to her. Moving in with George was truly never an option; I only said it to get under Betty’s skin. I had begun to accept George obviously enjoyed her company. Deep inside, I don’t want him to rot away all alone. Betty made him feel vibrant and alive.
“Hey,” I said after opening the front door and putting Fera down. She ran over to the recliner chair to sit on George’s lap.
“Hello there,” he said.
“Where’s Betty?” I asked.
“Her sister is visiting for the week. She is out shopping with her now.”
“That’s nice,” I said, grateful I could talk to my grandfather alone for a change.
“Angela, I’m glad you’re here. I need to tell you something.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked, thinking the worst. My heart started beating quickly.
“Well, I know one day I won’t be in my right frame of mind, but today I am. Joyce and I reviewed your case file. It was despicable what those vultures did to you. It was Joyce’s idea but we started a class-action suit against the city of Norfolk for not protecting you. Do you remember the officer you told to help you?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Well, he documented it. Each time his superiors wouldn’t do anything about it. The suit settled about ten years ago. Angela, after attorney fees, you were awarded one hundred thousand dollars. It’s been sitting in an account earning interest all these years. Take that money and make some good out of it. Honey, I’m so sorry what happened to you,” he expressed, holding my hand.
“What was the name of the police person who ignored my cries?” I asked, not even caring about the money.
“I can’t tell you that, Angela.”
“Why?”
“I know you killed those three men who hurt you,” he whispered.
“I . . .”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me. Joyce never figured it out but I did. That night you told me that you were going to see a movie with Becca, I followed you. I saw everything through the window. We will never speak of this again. I understand why you did it. Sometimes, people truly get what they deserve,” he said.
I began to weep in his arms. “Am I a bad seed?” I asked.
“No, of course not. You’re beautiful, a college graduate, and going to make some man happy with that cooking of yours.” We both started laughing.
“I can cook a little,” I admitted.
“You’re just being modest. Speaking of men, that young man Nathan Watts has dropped plenty of hints to me that he likes you. He has been by the apartment a few times just to check on me. Angela, he is a good man. I think you should give him a chance,” George suggested.
“Maybe.” I nodded.
“I’m in the mood for Mayfield vanilla ice cream. I just brought some from the store the other day. Go run in the kitchen and make us some bowls. Plus, I made sure to get my Fera some frozen doggie treats. I couldn’t leave her out of the fun,” George said.
Chapter 33
Chance
I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror as I thought about all the things I’d done and all I’d been through in my life. I knew there were evil people who roamed the world, but me, I was just a product of my environment and my mother’s psychotic behavior. The effects were devastating and many would have never made it this far, but I did. I beat the odds of becoming a junkie or a whore just like my mother.
Sure I had my downfalls but I lived as a productive member of society, contributing to the justice system in my own little way and striving for success at the same time. I began to think about what the future held for me. Just as George had promised, he gave me the money. I continued to let it sit in an account.
Initially, my only goal was simply to run an upscale whorehouse, but as time had passed, I had a change of heart. I was tired of staying up late. Being in the sex business came with a price. I was tired of the late nights and the constant stress and worry. Every night, I was on edge. I constantly monitored the patrons in an attempt to protect the employees and make sure that money was right. I was beginning to want a real life where I didn’t have sex with different men all the time. The sexual urges had begun to decrease. My routine visits with the therapist had a great impact on my life.
I knew leaving the business would be a huge change but, like always, I was up for the challenge. There was a lot of planning ahead of me so I started by giving Nathan a call.
“Hello?” a voice answered me.
“Nathan,” I said.
“Hey, so you finally called.” He laughed. I could tell he was smiling through the phone.
“You broke me down.” I lau
ghed then continued, “I’m only kidding.”
“Do you know when you have some time to get together?” he asked.
“Yes; are you in the mood for a sugar rush?” I inquired.
“I like my fair share of sweets.”
“On Saturday morning, meet me at Sugar Tree Bakery,” I suggested.
“Okay, I know where it is. What time?” he asked.
“Are you an early bird?”
“Matter of fact, I am,” Nathan confirmed.
“Great. Let’s meet around nine o’clock in the morning.”
“Agreed,” he said.
“I will see you then.”
“Looking forward to it,” he said before hanging up.
After speaking to Nathan I prepared dinner and got ready for a long night at work.
To my surprise, the night ended early and profitable. Sooner rather than later, I was going to have to tell Heather that my heart wasn’t in the business anymore. Little by little, I had been teaching her the business side of running an upscale whorehouse. So if she decided to continue the business on her own, she would be more than ready. As we counted the money and did the checks and balances for the night, I started small talk with Heather.
“So how’s the lab these days? You haven’t spoken about it in about one whole day,” Heather said, laughing.
“You think you’re so funny. Are you getting tired of me talking about the lab?” I asked.
“Hmm, a little. I know you love working there,” she replied.
“Yes, I do.” I nodded.
“It’s where your heart is.”
“Correct. In fact, I will be working more hours. I have to admit that it’s hard juggling this and the lab.”
“Angela, you’re a morning riser. I’m a night owl. We are who we are,” Heather stated before we locked up the house and left.
I headed home to take a hot shower and catch a quick nap.
The alarm clock went off. I got up to prepare for my date with Nathan. I decided to play it simple with a fitted T-shirt and jeans and sneakers. Still exhausted, I drank a Red Bull on the way to the bakery. I didn’t want to be yawning in Nathan’s face. I walked in and was in awe of the morsels of pastry goodies laid behind the glass. I definitely had my eye on a raspberry bar, two shortbread cookies, and, my favorite, an elephant ear: a glazed doughnut that is shaped into an ear.
Girls From da Hood 9 Page 22