I Will Remember You

by L. Jaye Morgan

  She wrote out a list of moves on a sheet of paper she would have to burn if it ever came down to that. She couldn’t call Tremaine, that was clear. Because even if she called and tried to throw the police off, he wouldn’t know that and would almost certainly start talking about their relationship. That was out of the question.

  She ruminated and finished her wine and decided that her best move would be to do exactly what Williams asked of her: she needed to avoid Tremaine.

  There was only one problem. If he called and she didn’t answer, he would text her, and then Williams and friends would eventually see those anyway. If she didn’t text him back, he would come by, and if she didn’t answer, he would worry. There was no way this would work.

  The burner phone! She reached down and opened the drawer so hard she almost pulled the desk over with it. She could call Tremaine’s work number and talk to him there. Of course. She tossed her old cellphone aside and searched every inch of the drawer.

  The burner phone was gone.

  Gianna tore through the office, looking under papers and behind books. It had to be there somewhere. She ran to her bedroom and searched every nook and cranny. She even searched Kaya’s room before looking through the living room and kitchen. It was gone.

  She missed Emmy so much, especially in times like these. What would Emmy do? She thought and thought until it hit her. Cathy.

  The day of Kaya’s birthday party, Cathy went into the office to rest. Fuck! Of course she had. Probably looking for ammunition. This was bad. This was really bad. And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it because Cathy wasn’t giving that phone back if it meant getting Gianna into trouble. Emmy was right. Emmy was right the whole time and Gianna had been too stupid to see. She let emotions cloud her judgment.

  She took the notepad out of her pocket and opened it to the first page. Nothing new came to her. She was completely stuck.

  With nothing else to do at the moment, Gianna set about straightening up the mess she’d made throughout the house. Kaya would be home from school soon and Gianna wanted no evidence of her having become unhinged.

  Before she had even gotten halfway through the office, her phone rang in her pocket. It was Tremaine. Tears filled her eyes as she held the phone, his name aglow on the screen. It took everything in her not to answer the phone but it was for his own good.

  Not even two minutes passed before the phone rang again but this time, it was her mother.

  “Hello?”

  “Turn on the news.”

  “What?” Gianna asked, annoyed.

  “Turn it on now, channel two. It’s Tremaine!”

  Gianna turned and ran to the living room, almost falling twice. She practically dove onto the couch to get the remote. She turned the TV on and turned the cable box to channel two. Wes Davis was particularly orange that day. Gianna held the phone in one hand and the remote in the other and listened intently as he spoke through his chiclet teeth.

  “Sources in the police department say they finally have a person of interest in the murder of Justin Harris and the attempted murder of his wife, Gianna, back in October. The video we’re going to show you now is of the person they believe has information pertaining to this case.”

  The video played and Gianna was confused. They knew exactly who Tremaine was and where he was. They probably had a tap on his phone. Why would they need to show the video?

  A few seconds later, she had her answer.

  “Authorities ask that anyone who saw this person on the night of November contact them immediately. There is a $10,000 reward for any information leading to an arrest.”

  A reward? Since when? Gianna’s head swam and she struggled to catch her breath.

  “Hello?” Beverly asked.

  “I’m here. I’m...I’m so confused right now?”

  “Sit tight, I’m coming over.”

  The police beat Beverly to the house. By the time she pulled up, a uniformed officer had already put Gianna in handcuffs.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  GIANNA SAT IN THE TINY, cold room—it couldn’t have been larger than ten feet by ten feet—and shivered violently. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed or who was coming back for her but there was nothing else she could do but wait.

  The last time she saw Detective Williams, he had hit her with a song and dance about keeping her and her family safe. That she was now under arrest was a major curveball, to say the least.

  The officer who cuffed her was nice enough to put her hands in front of her. Small favors. But the metal only absorbed the cold and made her wrists even colder. She tried to sit as still as she could but it was no use.

  As long as she lived, she would never forget the sound those handcuffs made as they snapped shut. She heard her life changing. She heard her daughter crying and her in-laws cackling. And worst of all, she heard the lock on the door of Tremaine’s prison cell where he would rot away, never to be seen again.

  At long last, when she was almost to the point of sleeping sitting up in the hard metal chair, the door burst open and Detective Williams swaggered in like he had just shot a deer during hunting season. His smile was aggravating as hell.

  “Mrs. Harris. So lovely to see you again.”

  Though tempted, Gianna said nothing. She refused to let him rattle her. Instead, she stared at him with a blank expression. She wasn’t a stupid woman; she knew that all she had to do was say the word “attorney” and she would be out of there and back in her cell. But her curiosity was getting the better of her. She’d seen police interrogations on TV and in the movies and she was intrigued. What would they say? Would they yell at her? Good cop, bad cop? Would they lie to her? All fascinating prospects. She decided to see what would happen.

  “Do you understand what’s happening here?” he asked.

  Well, now she had to speak. “Yes.”

  “Have you been read your Miranda rights?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you acknowledge that you understand that you don’t have to speak to us, and may ask for an attorney at any time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Let’s get right to it. We have your boyfriend in another box down the hall. How do you feel about that?”

  “I feel that if he did it, he belongs in jail.”

  Williams smirked. “Interesting. Why do you think he did it?”

  “I didn’t say I think he did it. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

  “Okay. Let’s play OJ. If he did do it, what would be his motive?”

  “I don’t know. I suppose it would be one of two things. Greed or sex. I think that’s typically the reason people kill people they know.”

  “Did he have any reason to kill your husband that’s related to greed?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “For example, did your husband owe him money?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “What about sex?”

  “To my knowledge, there was no sex between Tremaine and my husband.”

  Williams chuckled. “Very cute.”

  Gianna smiled. This wasn’t altogether unpleasant. They could keep needling each other until the sun went down for all she cared. It was better than the intake cell. That place was a monument to inhumanity. It smelled like urine, the floors and walls were caked with visible dirt and grease, and the other occupants were the kinds of ladies you meet on Metropolitan Parkway née Stewart Avenue. It simply wasn’t Gianna’s kind of place.

  “Look at you,” Williams said. “Not a care in the world. I gotta say, if it was me on the other side of that table, I’d be nervous as hell. But not you. Do you even understand what’s at stake here?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Do you really?”

  “Jail.”

  “No ma’am, not just jail,” he said. “Prison. For life. Your daughter would basically be an orphan. You would never get to go to her wedding or see your grandchildren. Does that mean anything to you?”

  It di
d. Her poker face fell just for a second but she got herself together. “I know the stakes.”

  “Well then please explain this attitude you’re throwing at me right now.”

  “Well, let’s see: I’m innocent and I’m cold and I’m facing prison time for a crime I didn’t commit. It’s not attitude you see, it’s anger. I thought we were past all this. I passed the lie detector and y’all cleared me months ago. So my question is why am I here?”

  Williams wasn’t impressed. “We’ll get to that. And let me just clear something up real quick. We know you did it. Okay? There’s no question about that. So whatever rage you’re feeling at this point is on you, not me. You’re the reason you’re sitting there in handcuffs, not me.”

  Gianna just stared.

  “Now, let’s start on that night. Wh—”

  “I already told you everything I remember about that night, which is basically nothing. Unless you have some new questions for me, I don’t see the point of this little exercise.”

  Williams glared at her and she was glad she had gotten a rise out of him. “You want new questions? Okay, how about this: when did you start having sex with Tremaine Odum?”

  She hadn’t expected that. How dare he? She was a lady. “I want an attorney.”

  “Whoa, whoa, wait a second. Already? I’m just getting started.”

  She wanted to wipe the smug right off his stupid face. Asshole. “I have nothing else to say. At least not about that.”

  “Are you sure? This is your chance to tell your side before we start on your boyfriend. And from what I can see, he’s a little bit softer than you are.”

  “Lawyer.”

  “Gianna, I know you can’t see this because you have your defenses up but I really am trying to help you. Do you understand that?”

  “Doesn’t seem that way to me. I’d rather take my chances with my attorney.”

  Williams took a long look at her. “I bet I know what you’re thinking right now.”

  Gianna frowned but said nothing.

  “Oh yeah, I know. You’re thinking ‘No jury would ever convict me. I’m an educated, articulate, attractive woman.’ And that’s all true. I ain’t even gon’ front, Gianna. You a bad bitch.

  “But guess what? It’s a whole lotta bad bitches in this town. You ain’t as special as you think you are. And lemme break this down for you right now so it can forever and consistently be broke. You’re a black woman. Okay? And you live in the Black Mecca, where it ain’t enough straight black men to go around. And you are accused of conspiring to kill your husband. And not just any husband. Your black husband. He was educated and articulate too, and he was straight, and he had a job! Do you have any idea how many black women in Atlanta are looking for that? Gianna, you were married to the holy grail of niggas and you had him killed.

  “Now imagine a jury of your peers. Black women ain’t gon’ look too kindly on you for killing a man who could have been their brother or their son or their husband. And black men? Sheeeit. What you think they gon’ say when they find out you fucked your husband’s best friend? They won’t see their sisters or daughters. No ma’am, they gon’ see an ungrateful thot who had a good man and still wasn’t satisfied.” He shook his head. “I tell you what. I’m sitting here knowing you’re a murderer and I still feel sorry for you.”

  Gianna’s lower lip quivered slightly, the only outward indicator of her emotional state at that moment.

  Williams leaned in. “I’m giving you a chance to tell the truth before I go in there and start on your boyfriend. Do you really wanna take a chance like that? Because in my line of work, I’ve met a lot of men who kill for pussy and they all have one thing in common: they’re cowards. They dime on their girls faster than you can say conjugal visit.” He stared into her eyes. “Gianna, this is your last chance. If you’re not honest with me, I can’t help you.”

  She looked him square in the eye and said “lawyer.”

  Williams left the room without another word. Once he was safely out of the room, she let the tears fall.

  ARILYN WATSON, ESQ. had Gianna out of jail before dinner. They drove straight to Gianna’s house where Beverly and Kaya were waiting. Gianna would have given anything to have Emmy around at that moment.

  Kaya ran straight into her mother’s arms. “What happened? Why were you in jail?”

  “It’s a long story, sweetie. We’ll talk about it later. I need you to go up to your room and let the adults talk for a little while, okay?”

  “Is Uncle Tre in jail, too?”

  Gianna sighed. “Baby, just go upstairs. We’ll talk about it later.”

  Kaya hesitated before turning and stomping up the stairs. Gianna was too exhausted and drained to deal with her angst-ridden teenage impertinence.

  They took their seats in the family room. Beverly spoke first. “So what was the charge?”

  “First-degree murder,” Arilyn said. “As far as I can tell, they had enough on you to indict but we won’t know exactly what until the lead up to the trial.”

  “Trial?” Gianna was bewildered.

  “Yes. And I suggest you hire a criminal defense attorney. I would love to handle this for you but I don’t have enough experience in that area.”

  Beverly shifted in her seat. Her hair seemed grayer than it had been the day before. “I don’t understand. What evidence do they have?”

  “I don’t know. Tremaine was still there when I got Gianna out so who knows what he’s saying.”

  “Do y’all really think he did it?” Gianna asked, hoping they would convince her of his innocence. She wanted them to say it and be adamant about it, leaving her no room for doubt. Instead, they both shrugged. “The way I figure it,” Beverly began, “he’s probably always been jealous of Justin. As long as I’ve known him, he’s never had a girlfriend and he strikes me as really awkward.”

  “That doesn’t make him a murderer,” Arilyn snapped.

  “No, but that’s a motive, right?”

  Gianna stared at her mother. “You sound like Emmy.”

  “I don’t know if I should say thank you or be offended. But listen, all I’m saying is that if he did this, you don’t wanna go down with that ship.”

  “My head is spinning,” Gianna said.

  Arilyn put a hand on Gianna’s arm. “I’ll poke around and see who’s available right now. I can have you a list by tonight,” she said. “Don’t panic. We’re gonna take care of this, don’t worry.”

  “Thank you. So what happens now?”

  “Well, you’re out on bail so if I were you, I wouldn’t so much as get a speeding ticket. You’ll be arraigned tomorrow morning and you’ll enter a not guilty plea, of course. And then you and your attorney will prepare for the trial.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Try to stay calm. I know this is stressful but you have to keep a clear head. You know you’re innocent. We know you’re innocent.”

  “Oh my God, Cathy and Russell.”

  “Don’t worry about them,” Beverly snapped. “Just put them out of your mind. They don’t exist.”

  It was definitely easier said than done. She tossed and turned all night long and couldn’t stop imagining what they would say and how they would feel once they found out about her and Tremaine. It did look bad, she had to admit. Perhaps it took being separated from him for her to see it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  THE COLD LIGHT OF DAY didn’t bring Gianna any clarity. She was still confused, still wired and anxious—a terrible combination—and the light shining directly into her eyes made her irritable, to boot. She trudged downstairs to put on some coffee and ran right into Beverly.

  “Good, you’re up. Arilyn just called. Good news.”

  “What?” she asked, her heart pounding.

  “They dropped the murder charges.”

  “Oh my God!” Gianna shouted, dropping right to her knees. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know yet. She’s gonna call back in
a minute.”

  “For me and Tremaine, or just me?”

  “Oh sweetie, I don’t know about him.”

  Her wheels were turning. “He probably needs a lawyer. I wonder if they let him call a lawyer.”

  “Come here and sit down,” Beverly said, gesturing toward the kitchen. “You need to eat something.”

  “I’m too keyed up to eat.”

  The house phone rang and startled them both. Gianna ran to pick it up. It was Arilyn.

  “Alright, here’s what I know. You’re still being charged with accessory after the fact. The murder charge didn’t stick because Tremaine wouldn’t implicate you. The—”

  “Hold on. You talked to Tremaine? How is he?”

  “No, I haven’t seen or talked to him. I have a friend at the courthouse who’s seen the docket and he’s still being charged with first-degree murder.”

  Gianna scratched at her stitches. Beverly tried to grab her hand but Gianna swatted her away. “How do you know he didn’t implicate me?”

  “It’s obvious. They wouldn’t have dropped the charges otherwise.”

  “Detective Williams said they have evidence against him. What is it?”

  “From what I can tell they have him on camera buying a black hoodie and some black gloves. He dropped one at the crime scene and they traced it back to the Walmart.”

  Gianna closed her eyes. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. “So what happens now?”

  “Your arraignment date will probably change but Tremaine’s arraignment is still later this morning. I strongly advise you not to go to that.”

  Gianna closed her eyes. “When can I see him?”

  “Unless he posts bail, which isn’t likely with his charges, then you’ll have to go to the jail and see him. And I strongly advise against that, too.”

  “Okay. Thank you, Arilyn. I appreciate you.”

  “Love you too. I’ll call you later.”

  Beverly spread her hands and raised her eyebrows. “Well?”