Gianna thought for a moment. She didn’t put much past Cathy but Russell was a good man. He wouldn’t do something like that. Would he? “It won’t look good.”
“Damn right.” Emmy sat silently for a moment. “Didn’t you once tell me they have a bunch of homes in the Caribbean?”
“Just two. A second home and a rental property.”
“And suddenly they’re hard up for money? Listen to me, little girl, and listen good. Them in-laws of yours might have you fooled but they don’t fool me. They’re up to something. You need to watch them. But I’m gonna tell you what to do.”
Emmy detailed her instructions to her granddaughter. She was to email Detective Williams and copy Russell, explaining to the detective that her in-laws had inquired about the insurance and the investigation. Gianna was still skeptical but she agreed to do as her grandmother said. Emmy had a strategy for everything. This was a woman who flew an American flag in front of her house and affixed a stars and stripes bumper sticker on her car so that if she ever needed them, the police would think she loved America.
“Got that?” Emmy asked.
“Yeah. I’m getting tired.”
“That’s fine, go to sleep. Your mother’s coming back to get me in a couple of hours. I’ll just watch TV.” She took a long look at her granddaughter. “When are you gonna do something to that head?”
“As soon as I get out of here.”
“What about the brush and gel I brought you?”
“I didn’t get around to it.”
“What did I tell you about looking presentable? You get better treatment when you look like you’ve made an effort.”
Gianna let her head fall to the side as if it was too heavy for her neck to hold it up. “I’m tired.”
Emmy’s face softened. “My poor baby. Don’t worry about it. I’ll fix it up for you.”
Gianna sighed and closed her eyes as Emmy set about fixing her hair. Her touch was light and soothing. It was exactly what she needed.
“I can’t believe they think I did it,” Gianna said.
“It’s usually the spouse, though. Numbers don’t lie, you know that.”
“There’s only one thing I know for sure right now, Emmy.”
“What’s that?”
“If I’m gonna prove I didn’t do it, I need to get the hell out of this hospital.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“DR. ANSLEY, I’M FEELING so much better. I was just looking at that pain chart and I think I’m at one right now,” Gianna said, gesturing toward the little yellow smiley face. It was a lie, of course. She still felt like shit but that was her business. She needed to get the hell out of there. Kaya needed her. Gianna needed her own bed. And she needed to find a way to get the police off her ass.
“Now, you’re not just saying that so I’ll let you out of here, are you?” Dr. Ansley asked. “You wouldn’t be the first patient who’s tried that but you have a head wound. That’s not something to play with.”
Gianna pretended to be hurt by the accusation. “Oh no, I’m serious. I really do feel better.”
Dr. Ansley looked down at Gianna and raised her eyebrows. “Okay.”
“Really?”
“Let me do one more test. If I’m satisfied with the results, I’ll let you out of here today. Deal?”
Gianna closed her eyes and nodded. Just the prospect of lying in her own bed was enough to fill her with joy. She was on top of the world, already planning long hot showers with her Viktor & Rolf shower gel. She daydreamed about the pizzas she would order and the cookies she would bake. She saw herself putting her feet on her foot massager. And then she remembered: her husband was dead, and she wasn’t going to go home and pick up where she left off. Justin was gone, and nothing would ever be the same again.
IT WASN’T UNTIL DR. Ansley told Gianna she was officially discharged that she felt fear. Since waking up, she’d felt rage, sadness, and various other emotions but the fear was a fresh new addition. Someone had actually murdered her husband, and they’d also tried to murder her. The hospital room had been her little cocoon, with its heavy wood door and cadre of doctors and nurses just outside. But she was leaving that protective bubble and going home where it would just be her and a thirteen-year-old girl. Whoever it was, they were still out there and Gianna and Kaya had no one there to protect them.
Beverly arrived and checked Gianna out at around four, and the moment they hit the elevator, Gianna’s heart began to race. Her arms and hands went numb and the elevator walls spun around her.
Beverly raced her back upstairs where Gianna underwent a thorough examination. She learned that she was not having a heart attack but was, in fact, suffering from an anxiety attack. Dr. Ansley said the symptoms are often similar. She wrote out a prescription for anxiety meds and sent Gianna on her way.
She had instructions to go see her primary care physician within the week, and then once every two weeks after that. Dr. Ansley also referred Gianna to a psychiatrist who specialized in her types of disorders, and she made sure to tell Gianna she looked for a black psychiatrist for her. Dr. Lily Ansley was a real one.
Maybe it was the anxiety meds they picked up on the way out of the hospital or maybe it was that Gianna was dog tired, but she fell asleep on the ride home and didn’t wake up until Beverly called her name.
They pulled into the driveway and she was relieved to see that she recognized her house. It was a cute little ranch sitting on a third of an acre, brick-front, three beds and two and a half baths with a basement and a bonus room that Kaya had turned into a study/beauty room. She remembered.
Emmy had a fit when they first showed her the house. “Brick facades are an empty promise!” she’d said. Gianna had shrugged it off but Justin took it personally. And what man wouldn’t have? It was a nice house and it was what they could afford as a young couple fresh out of college. Justin told Gianna that Emmy was welcome to critique their purchases if she was chipping in at least half of the cost. Otherwise...well, he didn’t explicitly say ‘otherwise she can shut the fuck up’ but it’s definitely what he was aiming to convey. She remembered.
Gianna told Emmy that she’d hurt Justin’s feelings and Emmy concocted a plan to have Gianna scold her in front of Justin before forcing her to apologize. It worked. She remembered.
The ranch was a nice house for a small family, no matter what Emmy had to say about it, and Gianna turned it into a lovely home. Justin had wanted to go to one of those “buy the room” places and furnish the whole house in one pass but Gianna talked him out of that, convincing him it was better to slowly decorate over time, filling their home with pieces they loved. Other than artwork, they were done and the inside of the house was beautiful.
“Are you okay? Do you need me to go in first?” Beverly asked. She turned the car off and faced Gianna expectantly.
“I’m fine. I just wanna get inside and lie down. I’m tired.”
“Okay. I washed your sheets and comforter for you. Everything is ready.” Beverly walked around and opened Gianna’s door. She held out her hand and Gianna shook her head.
“Where’s Emmy?” Gianna asked as she climbed out of the car. Beverly frowned and took a deep breath. “Did you hear what I said? I washed your bed stuff and got everything ready.”
“I heard you. Thanks.”
Dejected, Beverly led Gianna into the house. It smelled like home. The smell you can only detect after you’ve been gone awhile. She recognized it and for a brief moment, she felt safe. And calm. And then she was overwhelmed with sadness. Justin wasn’t coming back, and she didn’t know if her house would ever feel like a home again. She couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t there. As far as she remembered, he had never so much as spent a night away from home.
Beverly got Gianna settled onto the couch and then became a whirlwind of activity. She grabbed a pillow and placed it gingerly behind Gianna’s back before handing her the TV and cable remotes. She disappeared into the kitchen and came right back out with a
tray, which she set on the table in front of Gianna. On the tray were two bottles of water, a bowl of chicken noodle soup, and a piece of cheesecake. Finally, Beverly covered Gianna in the grey chenille throw that hung on the back of the couch.
Gianna watched it all in curious silence. “I’m actually not that hungry,” she said.
“Oh. Well, that’s okay. I’ll just put this away for later.” Beverly took the soup and cheesecake into the kitchen. “Do you need anything else while I’m in here?” she asked.
Gianna scratched near her stitches. “I just need the phone so I can call Emmy.”
The clattering in the kitchen stopped. Beverly walked back into the family room, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Why do you need her? I’m here.”
Gianna stared at her mother. “I just need her help with something.”
“Well, maybe I can help.”
“You can’t.”
“Try me. You never know.”
“I do know.”
Beverly’s face fell. “You’re never gonna stop punishing me, are you?”
Gianna sighed and shook her head. “I’m not punishing you. I just need Emmy right now. It’s nothing personal.”
Beverly stood silently for a moment before picking up the cordless phone. She handed it to Gianna, and as she walked back into the kitchen, she called over her shoulder. “With you, it’s always personal.”
GIANNA CALLED SEVERAL times but Emmy didn’t answer. A relative of the average elderly woman who lives alone might find such a thing alarming but there was nothing average about Emily Dash. She played feeble sometimes but in reality, she was vibrant and strong. When she wasn’t at her book club, she was at the senior center working out. If not there, she was at church. She had been part of a bowling league for a time but something went awry between Emmy and Cora, the captain of the league. And then there were the gentlemen callers, as Emmy described them. Apparently, there were several of those. It was too early for her to be on a date so Gianna assumed she was out with her girlfriends. Emmy would get back to her soon enough. If she felt like it.
Gianna had just begun to doze off when the phone rang.
“Hey there, do you know who this is?”
“Yes. Hi, Daddy.”
It was Sam Stokes, her smooth-talking, sometimes absent, always charming father. Memphis born and Detroit bred, Sam was currently living in Philly with his new wife and her kids. Supposedly he moved there because his wife’s parents were there but Gianna had always suspected he was dodging someone or something. He hadn’t set foot in Atlanta since the early 2000s.
“Hi, Baby. How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice buttery smooth and dripping with concern. She was glad to hear from him.
“I’ve been better.”
“I heard. I’m so sorry. How are you and Kaya holding up?”
“Just taking it one day at a time. I’m trying to stay strong for her.”
“Yeah, it’ll get easier.”
“I hope so.”
“Listen, your cousin told me you lost your memory. Is that true?”
“Yeah. It’s not all my memories, just the more recent ones.”
“Huh. Do you remember our last conversation?”
“Why does everybody wanna know that?” Gianna said, chuckling.
“Do they? That’s funny.” He laughed. “I guess we just wanna make sure you really remember us. We all love you so much.”
“To answer your question, I don’t remember. Was it something important?”
“Uh...no, actually. I think we talked about me coming to visit.”
“That would be nice. When?
He was silent on the other end. Gianna tried to envision his face, and the last time she saw him, but she came up short.
“I’ll keep you posted,” he said.
They talked some more, mostly about how concerned he was and how many gifts he was going to bring for her and Kaya. She finally remembered that he made big promises and used big excuses to break them, so her excitement to see him was tempered.
“Who was that?” Beverly asked from the grey loveseat.
“My dad.”
Beverly paused. “Oh? That’s nice of him to finally call you.” There was no love lost between those two. Beverly had never spoken ill of the man but after Gianna had Kaya, she finally saw that whole situation for what it was. Sam left Beverly, Beverly had a breakdown, and then Gianna suffered for it.
“He said he would try to get down here but he’s not sure he can get off work.”
“Oh, he works? That’s wonderful.”
“What’s wrong?” Gianna asked.
“Nothing.”
“He’s gonna call and check on me tomorrow.”
Beverly shook her head. “Do you remember yall’s last conversation?”
Gianna crossed her arms. “That’s what he asked me. What’s the deal?”
Beverly just smiled. “Ask him.”
CHAPTER NINE
DETECTIVE WILLIAMS was early, and to make matters worse, he brought company.
He and Gianna had agreed that he would come by the house at around 10 am but he rang Gianna’s doorbell at 9:45 on the dot. The only thing worse than a late guest is an early one. She was still getting ready and had to rush to finish applying her mascara. Rude.
She didn’t do a full face because she wanted to look good but not too good. She was still in mourning, after all. But she needed to charm him and it would be much easier to do that if she looked halfway decent. She didn’t bother using any concealer on her bruise. It was useful, actually. It made her look like a victim. Which, to be fair, is exactly what she was.
It was quite a surprise when she opened the door and saw a woman standing next to Williams. “Hi, Detective. Please come in,” Gianna said, her eyes never leaving the woman’s face. Once they were inside, Gianna took in the whole package. The woman was cute but she couldn’t dress for shit.
The two followed her inside and she gestured for them to sit on the couch. “I’m Gianna,” she said, extending her hand to the woman.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Detective Verna Debreaux.” The two shook and Gianna continued to size her up. Debreaux was cute in a generic kind of way. Very light-skinned, or “high yellow” as Emmy’s generation called it. She had thin lips, hazel eyes, and sandy brown hair which she wore in a loose bun. It wouldn’t have been out of the realm of possibility for the unschooled to assume she was white but Gianna was clued in immediately. The edges never lie.
“Do either of you want something to eat or drink?” she asked.
“We’re fine,” Williams said, answering for both of them. “I’d like to get right to it if you don’t mind.”
She nodded and took her seat to his right on the recliner. Williams handed her the phone, leaning as close as he could toward her. He stared into her eyes with intensity and she tried not to stare at his razor bumps. His skin looked like a Nestle Crunch bar. “Mrs. Harris, I need you to remember your password. It’s vital to this case.”
“I understand.”
He had made that exact same speech in the hospital a few days ago. She held the phone in her hand, running her fingertips over the wavy ridges in the case. The gravity of it was clear. Her entire life was contained in a little machine that was no bigger than a dollar bill. What secrets did it hold? What truths were waiting to be revealed?
She typed in the last password she could remember: Kaya2006. She then tried Kaya’s birthday, Emmy’s birthday, then Justin’s birthday, and finally, her own. She frowned at the screen. “I truly have no idea what my password might have been.”
Williams sat back and sighed. “Well, this poses a problem.”
“Isn’t there some department that specializes in this? You guys don’t have like...electronic forensics or something?” Gianna asked.
“Actually, we do,” Williams said. “The problem is, your phone has double encryption. Any measures our people might use to get into would effectively erase everything that’s on the ph
one.”
“So there’s nothing we can do?”
“Why do you have double encryption on your cell phone?” Debreaux asked. “I’m just curious. It seems like an unnecessary level of security for a regular person.”
“I have no idea why I would have put that on there. I don’t even know what that means.”
Debreaux wasn’t satisfied. “Do you have a background in IT?”
“No.” An exasperated Gianna turned her attention back to Williams. “So there’s nothing we can do?”
“Other than you remembering the password? No.”
Gianna rubbed her chin. “This is so frustrating.”
Debreaux cleared her throat. “So what’s this about amnesia? My partner tried to explain it to me but I’m not sure I’m clear on how that works.”
“The head trauma caused me to lose some of my memory. Apparently, it’s not uncommon. I don’t know how far back it goes but I don’t remember anything from that night or the time leading up to it.”
“Hmmm,” the detective replied. When it came to beauty, she had potential but it was clear she wasn’t applying herself. “So everything we need to solve this crime is locked away inside your head, I guess.”
Gianna narrowed her eyes. “Yeah. I guess so.”
The two women stared at each other until Williams cleared his throat, effectively ending their war of attrition. “How did you get out of the hospital so fast?”
“I told Dr. Ansley I was feeling better than I was. I needed to get home to my daughter. I’m all she has left.”
“So you lied to your doctor?”
Gianna frowned at Williams. “That’s kinda harsh. I wouldn’t say I lied. I embellished, I guess.”
Williams didn’t press it. “Your doctor told me she’s getting you into some kind of counseling that’s supposed to bring your memories back.”
“Yes, I have my first session on Monday. Hopefully, it will spark something.”
I Will Remember You Page 5