I Will Remember You

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I Will Remember You Page 11

by L. Jaye Morgan


  Gianna snickered. “Okay.”

  Debreaux narrowed her eyes and glared at Gianna.

  No one spoke for several minutes until Williams finally broke the stalemate. “Gianna, we called you in because I’ve come across some information that might be helpful to the investigation.”

  Gianna perked up. “That’s good. Right?”

  “It could be. I’ve been poking around in your financial records.”

  That wasn’t what she was expecting. “Okay...”

  “Frankly, you and your husband were in a lot of debt.”

  Gianna shook her head. “No, we weren’t. Not unless you’re counting our student loans.” $26,000 for Justin, $15,300 for her. A lot, but not so much that it was crippling.

  Williams opened his manila folder, again, and slid a short stack of papers across the desk toward Gianna. Again. Only this time, she knew enough to dread what she was about to see. Williams seemed quite fond of that tactic and she was already over it.

  “Are these bank statements?” she asked.

  “Credit card statements. There’s an Amex, two Mastercards, and a Discover card.”

  Gianna frowned. “I only know of the Amex and one of the Mastercards.”

  “Is it possible you lost the memory of those other cards?” he asked with a smirk. She cut her eyes at him. “I didn’t know about the other cards.”

  “I want you to take your time and read through those charges. Let me know if anything is familiar.”

  She stared at the documents. Restaurants. A charge from an airline. Gas stations. A jewelry store. Saks and Nordstrom.

  Williams watched her carefully. She could only imagine how happy he was watching her struggle. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. “I’m sorry but I don’t recognize these charges. And I’ve never seen the cards. They’re in my husband’s name so I assume he’s the one who opened them.”

  “I assume the same. But I need to know if you know anything about these debts.”

  “I don’t. And I’m not sure how this is supposed to help the investigation. Do you think he owed money to someone?”

  Williams shrugged. “Anything is possible. I was more so wondering if maybe he was spending money on someone besides you? Like a mistress, maybe?”

  He was an idiot. She knew exactly what the charges were and who they were for. “I don’t know anything about that.”

  Williams sighed and sat back in his chair. “At this point, I think the better question is: what do you know?”

  Gianna spread her hands. “I know you’re frustrated. I’m frustrated too, believe me. Have you talked to Sherrod McKinley yet?”

  “I can’t get into the details of our investigation but I can tell you that we’re very close to clearing him.”

  “Did you ask him about the letter?”

  “We did.”

  “And?”

  “There’s nothing connecting him to the letter.”

  “Well then what else can I do to help? I feel like we’re going around in circles.”

  Williams glared at her. “I would love to clear you and move on and there’s an easy way for us to be able to do that. I just need to know if you’re open to it.”

  “What is it? I mean whatever it is, I’m open.”

  “A polygraph exam. A lie detector test.”

  Shit. “I know what it is. That’s fine, let’s do it.”

  Williams looked impressed. “Okay. Okay, good. When are you available?”

  “I’m not back at work yet so I’ll take the first available.”

  “Tomorrow at 9 am?”

  “That works.”

  SHE PULLED INTO THE parking lot and checked her reflection in the rearview mirror. She had hastily applied more mascara, blush, and lip gloss in the police station bathroom. It was time to play the damsel.

  The bank wasn’t as crowded as she expected it to be given the proximity to payday. Payday bank trips were a ritual for some of those who live check-to-check. The others hit refresh religiously while waiting for their direct deposits to hit. Blue collar or corporate, it didn’t matter. They were in the same boat.

  She was able to walk right into the personal banker’s office. The nameplate on his desk read Ross Fogerty, and he looked like a Ross Fogerty. He was a thin man, pale and splotchy, with a little blue and white striped bowtie tucked neatly under his chin.

  “Yes, what can I do for you?” he asked.

  “I was hoping you could help me with something. My name is Gianna Harris. My husband, Justin, was killed a few weeks ago and—”

  “Oh no! I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank you. The thing is, my husband handled the finances and I’m afraid I don’t have the first clue about our account numbers or what’s where.”

  Ross gave a sympathetic head tilt. He probably heard it all the time, although probably not from black women. The truth was that Gianna had opened all of their accounts and Justin’s major contribution was his hastily scrawled signature at the bottom of each of the documents she so carefully filled out. But Ross didn’t need to know that.

  “Well okay, Mrs. Harris. Let’s get you in the loop. Can I have your social security number?”

  He typed in the string of numbers she rattled off, then turned the computer screen in her direction. “Alright, here is a list of your accounts.”

  She studied the screen. It looked as she expected. Thanks, Ross, you really enlightened me.

  Gianna frowned. “I think my husband has another account. Could you check that one, please?”

  “A joint account?”

  “No.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not authorized to give a customer access to an account she’s not listed on.”

  Her face fell. “Oh, no. What am I gonna do?” she asked.

  “About what?”

  “It’s just...the insurance hasn’t come through yet and I’m strapped right now. The burial took my last.” She was certain Ross had heard that before, especially from black women.

  He nodded slowly. “I understand. I wish there was something I could do.”

  She squeezed out a tear and let it linger. “Is there any way you could check my husband’s social? I don’t need the account number, I just want to make sure there’s other money I can go after in probate.”

  “Oh gosh, I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

  “Why not?”

  “As I said, I can only give you access to accounts with your name on them.”

  Gianna tried not to let her annoyance show. “I don’t need full access. I just need to know if they exist. From what I understand, as his widow, I can include separate accounts in any probate proceedings.”

  Ross took a deep breath.

  “The last thing I want to do is get you in trouble. I’m just...I’m desperate. I have a daughter and she’s not doing well and...I’m sorry.” She sobbed quietly, real tears streaming down her face. She knew what white women’s tears were worth but the value of hers was as yet undetermined. She waited.

  Ross took a deep breath and sighed loudly.

  Here it comes.

  “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. Give me the social and I’ll look it up. I can’t give you and documentation but I can verbally confirm the existence of any outside accounts.”

  She clapped her hands together. “Thank you, that would be perfect.”

  He typed again, but this time he kept the screen pointed away from her. “I see a checking account and a savings account.”

  “Okay, that seems right,” she lied. Her face gave away nothing but her internal voice was yelling a stream of obscenities. “One more question. Does it show the date of last activity? Just so I’ll know if it’s worth pursuing.”

  Ross typed. “The last transaction on the checking was three weeks ago. For the savings, a month ago.”

  “Okay, thank you so much, Ross. You’ve been such a big help.”

  “Of course. I�
�m so sorry for your loss and I wish you the best.”

  “Thanks.”

  She got up to leave. As she leaned down to drop her tissue in the trash can beside the desk, she heard Ross say “hmm.”

  “Pardon?” she asked.

  He looked embarrassed as if he had been caught. “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just...did you know anything about a safe deposit box?”

  No. “Yes, I remember him telling me about that.”

  “Okay, good. It’s here, so if you need to go through it, all you need is a death certificate, two forms of identification, and a marriage certificate. You’ll be able to view whatever is inside but you can’t remove any items. We’re authorized to make copies of legal documents for you to take, and we will allow you to photograph items for documentation purposes.”

  “Okay. Thank you so much. I’ll probably come back in the morning.” She went to her car, turned on the radio, and yelled obscenities aloud. Emmy was right; her husband definitely wasn’t a saint.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE TIME HAD COME. Gianna was about to become one of those women. She was about to snoop through her husband’s shit.

  She’d always smugly pitied those women, certain that only pathetic losers had time to rifle through belongings and crack passwords. No, Gianna was different. The second she got a whiff of impropriety on her husband’s part, she was out of there. That’s what she’d said. And now she was eating crow.

  The circumstances were different but the catalyst was the same: her husband had been keeping secrets. As such, it was her right to dig for the truth the same as any other woman. And sure, she had been keeping a few secrets of her own but that was neither here nor there.

  Gianna came home from the bank and went straight to the office, passing by Kaya without speaking. She booted up Justin’s laptop and entered the password—his birthday—and waited.

  She wasn’t even entirely sure what she was looking for but whatever it was, it had to be on his computer. He carried that thing everywhere. She couldn’t remember anything about that night but she must have made him promise to leave it at home.

  She knew there would be porn and she had no interest in that. Hopefully, he had the good sense to have it hidden away in some folder somewhere deep inside the bowels of the hard drive.

  She navigated to the explorer and opened up a list of files. She immediately honed in on the folder titled “Fuller Johnson.” Justin had interned there during senior year and was hired immediately upon graduation. Fuller Johnson touted itself as a boutique real estate firm, but it was more like a niche company. It catered to well-to-do black folks. They didn’t advertise that, of course, because realtors never do. But they advertise where their clientele congregates and they use coded language and steering to make sure they buy in the right area. Most of Justin’s clients bought on the south side or the east side.

  Each file in the folder contained pictures and documents. Gianna didn’t feel like sifting and scanning through each folder so she sorted by date and opened up the folder that he most recently been updated. To her surprise, the most recent folder was last edited in February.

  Gianna frowned and opened another window. Maybe he put the more recent files in another folder. She looked, and looked, and looked and found nothing. Confused and frustrated, she picked up the phone and called Fuller Johnson.

  “This is Will.”

  “Hi, Will, this is Gianna. Harris.”

  “Oh, Gianna, how are you?”

  “I’m okay. Just taking it one day at a time.”

  “Oh gosh. Did you get our flowers?”

  “I did, they were beautiful, thank you.”

  “Of course. So what can I do for you?”

  She hesitated. “This is gonna sound weird but I was hoping you could give me some information.”

  “Are you looking to sell your home?” Will was all business, all the time.

  “No, nothing like that. It’s more...personal.”

  “Okay...”

  “I was just wondering if you noticed anything strange at work as it relates to Justin.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Just like if he ever mentioned any problems or issues with anyone? Or with work itself?”

  “Oh gosh, let me think.” Will was quiet for a moment. “You know, I honestly don’t remember. It’s been so long.”

  “Wait, what do you mean?”

  “Since Justin’s been around.”

  “Around work?”

  “Yeah. Justin quit awhile back. It’s gotta be close to a year now.”

  SHE SAT AT THE DESK and stared at the computer, wondering what other secrets it held. He hadn’t worked in close to a year? Before she could dig any deeper, her phone rang. It was Sam.

  “Hey Daddy, how are you?”

  “I’m okay. The bigger question is: how are you?”

  “Not that good, honestly. And I’m kind of in the middle of something.” Understatement of a lifetime. She was in the middle of a shitstorm.

  “Who’s taking care of you? Are you and my grandbaby all alone over there?”

  “No, my mom is here. And Emmy comes by sometimes, too.”

  Sam chuckled. “That old bird is hanging tough. She ain’t never gon’ die.”

  Gianna frowned into the phone. “Excuse me? Why would you say something like that?”

  “It’s just jokes. You know your grandmother never liked me.”

  Now that, she did know. Emmy had never hidden her feelings about Sam. “I’m sure she had her reasons.”

  Sam laughed. “You just don’t know her like I do.”

  Gianna was growing more and more annoyed. “You do know she helped raise me, right?”

  “Oh I know, trust me.”

  “Because you weren’t there.”

  “Now wait a minute, now. Your grandmother drove me away and wouldn’t let me come around.”

  “Emmy drove you away.” Funny, Gianna couldn’t remember a time when Sam was around to be driven away.

  “Yeah, she got me up outta there quick.”

  “Did you take her to court? Try to get custody?”

  “I mean...nah, she just blocked me every time I tried to get near you.”

  “And it was so hard you just stopped trying.”

  Sam didn’t speak for several seconds. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “Oh, I’m not upset. Just disappointed, I guess. I never knew you gave up on your daughter because you didn’t feel like fighting for her. Good to know.”

  “Don’t be like that, Gianna. Your grandmother is ruthless. I’m just glad I got out alive.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Didn’t you ever wonder why people call her the black widow?”

  “Black widow?”

  “Shit. Your mother really never told you about this?”

  “No. What is this?”

  “You need to ask her about your grandma’s husbands.”

  Gianna’s head swam. “I’m confused.”

  “Look, forget I said anything.”

  “You didn’t say anything.”

  “I’m just being silly. Just messing with you about your grandma. It’s just jokes.”

  It wasn’t, she knew that full well. But she wasn’t going to press it. She couldn’t. Not right now. Because she had too much other shit to worry about. But she put a pin in it. She was going to revisit it soon enough.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “MRS. HARRIS, I’M GOING to ask you a series of control questions. These establish a baseline from which we assess your answers to more relevant questions.” The polygraph examiner’s name was Kevin. He seemed nice, and he seemed to be trying to put Gianna at ease but it wasn’t working. She was nervous, but she could do it. She told herself she could do it.

  She sat as still as she could so as not to disturb the sensors and electrodes that had been placed on her upper body. She was also adorned in the finest of blood pressure cuffs. It was a fascinating process,
one she would have found interesting and entertaining if it wasn’t happening to her.

  They had already done the pre-test portion of the exam. It was all very boring and tedious and mostly involved Kevin filling out paperwork. Gianna thought she saw him looking at her breasts but it could have just been her trying to make things interesting.

  The actual exam didn’t last very long and Gianna was a little disappointed. In fact, she felt cheated because Kevin showed her all the questions before he even hooked her up to the machines. It was nothing like television.

  She answered every question, even the nonsensical ones, and Kevin recorded everything. By the time it was over, she was certain she had done well. She signed her name with aplomb at the bottom of each page, even adding a little flourish at the end of each signature.

  SHE WAITED IN WILLIAMS’ office. He had a nice view, much better than the one at Dr. Ferris’ office. Gianna could actually see sky, trees, and a little lake a few blocks away. A family of geese stood together at the edge of the water.

  He finally came through the door with a manila folder in his hand. “That went well,” he said.

  “How long do I have to wait to get the results?” she asked.

  “I can actually give them to you right now if you like.”

  This was it. She braced herself. “Go ahead.”

  “You passed. And at this point, we’re able to clear you of any involvement.”

  Gianna sighed. “That’s good news. Thank you. So what happens now?”

  “Same thing that’s been happening. We keep pounding the pavement.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Just work on that memory. Do you still have that notepad?”

  “I keep it with me at all times.”

  “Good. And on my end, I will keep you updated as much as I can. Oh, and you can have your phone back,” he said. He pulled the evidence bag from his bottom drawer and handed it to her.

  “Thank you so much.” She smiled and Williams stuck his hand out. She shook it and decided to forgive him for being such an asshole before. If he could keep that same energy and steer it toward her case, he might turn out to be someone she could respect.

 

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