Anita took in a deep breath as she stood outside the club, enjoying the air and watching all the yellow taxis drive by, wishing she had a hundred-dollar bill for each one that passed. She hoped that she wouldn't be mistaken for a hooker, standing out here. Someone passed with a strong cup of coffee. Police sirens in the distance. An argument across the street with lots of crude language.
A black Lincoln pulled up beside her, and the window went down. A handsome man with a nicely trimmed beard took a photo of her with a Polaroid instant camera, and then the window went up, and the car moved along with the other traffic. That was odd. Anita thought it appeared as though he had taken a photo of her, although she supposed that it could have been one of the other two girls that were waiting for someone to show up. The one on her left didn't look like she felt very good, too much booze or drugs perhaps.
“Was that her?”
“Yeah, I believe so.”
“Pretty little thing.”
“Not for long.”
Chapter Four
DETECTIVE BROWN WAS AT 150 BROADWAY, sitting at the large oval table, waiting to talk to Felicia Smith, who was a personal assistant to one of the lawyers. As she understood it, she was a friend of the late Anita William, or had been. In some cases, luck was a necessary component to solving a crime and with others it was just hard work. Witnesses were always good, though at times unreliable. Funny how two people could see the same person and describe him or her entirely differently. Olivia was already getting the feeling that she was going to need luck for this one, but perhaps it was a little too soon to judge. Why was it necessary for people to prey on one another? Her constitution was robust, but this case was already tugging at her. At least she hadn't been sexually assaulted. Olivia had been raped in college and went out and bought a gun the next day.
Felicia entered and sat at the table in the meeting room. She was a lovely little thing with red hair and blue eyes, and wearing a skirt suit and tie. The detective's first impression was that she looked like a follower, not a leader. Why would Olivia think such a thing at a single glance? Her intuition was an important weapon in her arsenal, although initial impressions sometimes changed. Most people kept their true selves hidden early on, and many were as phony as a politician. Men could hide their true selves for months in a relationship with only breadcrumbs of their real selves accidentally dropped.
“Sorry I took so long, but we're working on an important case, and we go to court this afternoon. Things are hectic around here, but at least it gets my mind off Anita.”
Olivia nodded. “I'm surprised you're working, with your friend's corpse barely cold.” She occasionally liked to say shocking things to gauge reactions to judge character. A harsh reality of dealing with murderers and liars, broken people and deviants.
Felicia had shaken her head before she answered. “Why would you say such a thing? I tried to get some time off but wasn't able. As I said, we are at a significant part of the case, and it involves millions.”
It would take a lot for Olivia to believe that Felicia was entangled in the murder. “How long had you known Anita?”
“We were friends for several years in Orlando before I moved here. She was funny and fun. I can't believe Anita's dead. She vacationed here so that we could get together. Who would do such a thing?” Felicia was trying hard to hold back her emotions and had to stop talking.
“Know anyone who might want to do her harm?”
Felicia shook her head. “No, she never said anything like that to me.”
The detective glanced at a photo on the wall of one of the lawyers shaking hands with President Obama. “Did she have any trouble back home?”
Felicia glanced toward the door and saw her boss tapping his watch. “No, I don't believe so. Anita was already engaged. I told her she was too young but she said she was ready. She was just looking forward to getting married. She had imagined her wedding since she was ten, had gone over it many times. Said she wanted two kids, a boy and a girl, but that she wouldn't stop trying until she got a girl.”
It annoyed Olivia that Felicia's boss wanted to get her back to work so soon. A woman lost her life for God's sake, but it did appear this was a dead end. “I'll leave you my card and if you think of anything else, no matter how trivial you think it is, I want you to give me a shout. It's perfectly okay if it turns out to be nothing.”
Felicia stood up. “Of course, I can do that. I hope you catch the son-of-a-bitch. Don't hesitate to shoot him and then tell him to put his hands up.”
They shook hands and just before Felicia opened the door she turned back to the detective. “Wait, we were at the club one night and Anita went out for some air, and when she came back she told me ]someone stopped their car and took a photo of her. I don't know if that means anything?”
“What kind of car?”
“I don't know. Anita said it was a black car. She did say there were two other girls beside her, so he might have been taking a photo of them. Might have been a crazy tourist. We get all kinds here.”
“All right then.” Olivia thought it might be something, the first thing that grabbed her interest. She would check and see if any video had captured the vehicle, definitely a lot more cameras around after 911.
Chapter Five
ANITA WAS SITTING DOWN at an outside table at a restaurant in a field overlooking an unfamiliar though beautiful mountain range in the distance. This place in the middle of heaven and Earth wasn't easy to comprehend. She could eat and drink here, but there wouldn't be any effects from the so-called food, so no indigestion. But eating was part of the human experience. Anita could get pleasure from the taste, and that in itself was just fine, an imaginary thing, though it sure seemed real. She finished her Starbucks coffee and it was delicious.
Anita continued to be unable to go into the light even though she could feel God's pull, a lot like a hug from a loved one, when she concentrated on it. Mixed messages? No idea who created this place, Dii's Restaurant. Even though it was practically full, there was no waiting ever. Spirits could move through one another and not take up any space. There was no understanding how any of this worked, at least not yet. Maybe she never would.
Was Anita receiving curious looks?
She had been drawn to her funeral briefly but remained less than a minute, couldn't stand to watch all the crying, and looking down at her body in the coffin was just too damn weird. If Anita could only tell them that she was okay without scaring the crap out of them. She didn't know how to make herself visible in any case, and she had tried. At the wake, she attempted to move the frilly black curtain but wasn't able to manage it.
Back at the restaurant, a young man walked by and stopped at the sight of her because Anita was very attractive, and once a man had walked into a steel post because of her. This man looked Egyptian, dark skinned and handsome. He wore a black suit with a red tie. She was aware that it was a prejudiced thought, but she wondered if he had been a terrorist in life, not that it mattered now she supposed, so many attacks these days. Might be a hell, but she wasn't sure, hadn't seen a portal with fire inside. And if she ever did she would, of course, stay away from it.
“Hello, young lady. I haven't seen you before.”
“No, I've just recently passed.”
“Are you Anita?”
That surprised her. Who was this stranger who knew her name? “How do you know who I am?”
“I'm Kaelan, may I sit down?”
Aware that he didn't answer her question she studied him. Even if there were bad guys here, what harm could they do now? “Sure it's a free, ah, whatever this is. Where are you from?”
“California born and raised, though my parents were from Mansoura, Egypt. I died in a home invasion years ago. So you're the one who cannot enter into the light? Everyone's talking about it. Some say that God has something special in mind for you, but others think you might be evil or maybe a spy.”
Anita laughed. Drama, even in this place. Perhaps this guy was uns
table or joking, leaning more toward unbalanced. If I were evil wouldn't I be in hell? “You're not serious are you?”
“I am.” He looked around to see if anyone was looking or more important, listening.
“Just because I can't go into the light?”
Kaelan looked serious. “Yes, that's right. Some people can go and come, some you never see them again when they go inside. Never known for someone to be denied entry though.”
Anita thought about people talking about her, and she didn't like the idea of standing out from everyone else. Why would she be the only one who wasn't permitted to enter the light? “Is there a hell?”
He nodded. “Yes, but when someone goes to hell, they are only here briefly, as they come for you.”
I don't like the sound of that. “Who comes?”
“It is quite a scary thing to see. I've only seen it twice, and I hope I never see it again. Dark souls show up, demons I think, and they drag you down. And that you are still here, at least, you know you are not going there.”
“I hope I never see it.”
A German Shepherd ran and sat beside them at the table; she petted it and it lay down for a nap. “You enter the light and then you are judged, or so I've been told. Why would someone be taken to hell without being judged?”
“Since I've never gone to heaven or hell I can't say. Perhaps only the most wicked are pulled immediately. When I was alive, Bill Clinton was president. Who is president now?”
“A black man is president. Obama.”
“A black man?”
“No, it's true. Why haven't you gone into the light?”
Of course, she's pulling my leg. Kaelan had a pained look. “I did go in, but my father appeared, and he was gesturing for me to leave. Not sure why, unless if I'm judged the results would not be good. I can only guess. I have killed a man.”
Anita was a little surprised that he would readily admit something like that. “Did he deserve to be killed?”
Kaelan had taken time before he answered. “No, it was jealousy over a woman.”
She thought he was very forthcoming but didn't have enough information to judge his character, and being here, she probably shouldn't judge anyone. Anita noticed he was looking around as if something were amiss. Or was he waiting for someone?”
“Don't assume that everyone here tells the truth.” He stood and looked down at the sleeping dog.”
What does he mean by that? Should I believe anything this guy is saying? “What are you talking about?”
“I thank you for the conversation.”
Anita felt a surge in her stomach and then was pulled away by an unknown energy.
Again she was in the backseat of Detective Brown's car which stopped at a light on 59th Street. A crescent moon hung in the sky, the scent of pizza coming from Bella Vita Pizzeria making Olivia hungry as well as Anita desiring a bite or two. Smelled delicious. As she stared out the window, Anita saw something strange–an eerie red gleam from a garbage can–and as the detective started through the green light, Anita screamed.
“Stop!”
Oliva screeched the car to a halt, forcing the vehicle behind her to stomp the brakes to avoid a collision. Anita tried to figure out why she had screamed as she stood, puzzled, near the garbage can. An involuntary cry? Detective Brown got out, flashing her badge, and directed vehicles to go around. Then her attention went to the woman standing beside the can. As she moved toward the female figure, she realized she was able to see through her, but then the apparition faded and vanished. The detective sighed. Knowing there was insanity in the family, she had always feared it might creep up on her as a ghoul in the night. Was it the beginning of the scale tipping that way?
Anita stuck her head through the lid of the can and stared down into the garbage, saw the butt of a knife that was also blazing red, but how on earth was she going to get the detective to have a look? “Over here!” she shouted, but it was evident the detective didn't hear a thing. However, she had heard the scream in the car?
Olivia, having seen the spirit looking at the can, went over and took the lid off. They had searched some of the cans in the area and found nothing. In less than a minute she discovered a bloody knife. She called it in and had nearby cameras checked, but wasn't able to discern who had dropped it. A black Cadillac Escalade had plates that weren't decipherable by the cameras, an unfortunate break as whoever had been driving it had likely gotten rid of it by now.
And again it went through the detective's mind that she had an uncle, and her grandfather as well, who had been certifiable. The last she heard concerning Uncle Bill was that he had been out on a busy street in Cleveland shooting the high heels off women's shoes, though he never did hurt anyone except for a sprained ankle or two. Apparently a crack shot. Olivia had imagined that scene play out a few times.
Anita gazed through her hand when she noticed a white figure across the street. Another ghost? More like the outline of a person, and she had a sense that he might be the one who brought her here. As she looked at the ghostly figure, she discerned an old fashioned top hat, which made her think of Abe Lincoln, but it wasn't him. This spirit was short and fat. Whoever the silhouette had been, he vanished, as did she, yanked back to the table at the restaurant.
Anita made her way back to heaven's entrance and watched as Robin Williams made his way out and looked around. She had cried when she heard he had passed, but here he was doing just fine.
“Anita, that is you isn't it?” asked Robin.
“How do you know my name?”
“Lots of people are talking about you in here. God has something special in mind.”
A conversation with Robin Williams! But why would God have something special planned for me? “What do you mean? Why would HE have something special planned for me?”
“He doesn't share his plans.”
“Why can't I go in there if I'm so special?”
“Not for me to say.”
“I should go. I'm shooting a movie in here. The new arrival will be here soon.” Robin vanished in the white light.
Shooting a movie in heaven? That is so cool. And again she tried to go inside, but an invisible force prevented her from moving forward. She sighed. I'm so special that they won't even let me in.
Chapter Six
Karen walked past the room at just before six on a Monday morning, wearing her yellow pajamas as her husband liked to keep the place cool, shaking her head at the sight. It was as if Clint were experiencing shell shock; he had been in there for at least twenty-four hours now. He was still holding the plush bear that was holding a red heart. He had given her the bear, along with a box of chocolates and a dozen red roses, for Valentine's Day. The scent of her perfume remained on it, and being close to the bear was like being close to her.
Clint found himself in the thickest fog and had no intention of ever leaving. That Anita was dead was unacceptable. He couldn't come back to reality, refused to believe it, and yet he knew it was true. His fiancé was gone, and he would never see that beautiful face ever again.
Anita's mother went downstairs to find her husband sitting at the kitchen table, also staring off at nothing. “Fred, did you hear what I said?”
“No, honey, what did you say?”
“I said there's something wrong with Clint. He's been sitting in that chair in Anita's room since yesterday morning. I think he's in shock.”
Fred took a sip of his coffee. “We're all in shock.”
“Yes, but he hasn't had anything to eat or drink.”
“Karen, just leave him alone. He doesn't want to be bothered.”
“How long am I supposed just to let him sit there?”
“I don't know.”
Karen shook her head, put the frying pan on the stove, and made bacon and eggs for breakfast, but it just sat there. “Fred, you need to eat, or should we just put another chair in Anita's room? I have enough to worry about. I don't need to worry about you too.”
Fred took a bite o
f bacon and took a long time to eat it.
Karen didn't like how Fred looked–it was as if his soul had left him and he was now just a hull of the man he had been. The girls were still in bed. It wouldn't be easy dealing with the loss of their big sister. She didn't think there was enough left of her life to get beyond this. Death was as permanent as the ocean was deep, and Karen felt like drowning herself but knew she had to go on.
Fred hung his head and started to cry.
That afternoon an ambulance took Clint to the hospital.
Chapter Seven
DETECTIVE BROWN SENT THE KNIFE TO THE LAB and discovered that it was indeed Anita's blood on the blade, though no prints were found. The uneven handle would not permit fingerprints, and there was no other DNA evidence except for a hair follicle that belonged to the victim. So far no one had come forward with information, and the more time that passed, the less likely someone would help her solve this thing.
Olivia had difficulty falling asleep. That she saw the ghost was bad enough but seeing her twice, and in public, no less. Hallucinations didn't bode well. Had she already been given the insanity card? Perhaps she had just played it? Discovering the murder weapon in the can had to be a coincidence. Since ghosts didn't exist, Olivia didn't dare discuss it with her peers, though she had a desire to talk to someone. It was necessary to think that the incidents were in the past and would remain there. How should she handle another hallucination? Spirits were like flying saucers, seen by farmers with little sleep and too much alcohol.
It was 10:15 p.m. and the sun had set. Detective Brown, driving on Houston Street, was on her way to one of her delusional relatives, a self-proclaimed medium. Olivia, curious about how Aunt Stella's visions came about, wondered if she was on any medications. Olivia wouldn't come right out and ask, but she could snoop around. The bathroom always a good place to start. That she could get others to not only buy into her aberrations but have people pay for her so-called talents was incredulous. Anita, in need of a cannoli, decided to stop at an Italian restaurant for lunch. Emilio's Ballato had meatballs that were also to die for, and the soft music and aroma just added to the atmosphere.
I Was Murdered Last Night (Olivia Brown Mysteries Book 1) Page 3