“Thank you. I hope we were of some help to your case.”
“You were indeed,” he said, gathering folders into a briefcase.
“So is that it for us?” I asked.
“That’s it. The process will now be handled internally. Miss Cook and Miss Brooks are waiting for you on the lower level. This way.” He escorted me through a different door at the back of the room.
“May I ask you a question?” I said as we walked down a long corridor with more photos on the walls.
“Of course.”
“Will Billy go free?”
“Miss Livingston, I am very good at my job. I will make sure that Billy won’t be bothering anyone any time soon.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” I said, relieved. “Thank you.”
We turned a corner and continued until he stopped at the end of the hall. The nameplate on the door read in bold brass letters, COMMANDING GENERAL WILLIAM “BUTCH” MITCHELL. The lieutenant knocked and waited. An unfamiliar officer opened the door. I walked in and looked around. The room, an office, was made of the same dark wood as the rest of the building. We walked to another door, and the lieutenant knocked.
“Come.”
He opened the door, and in the other room I saw the officer with the thick eyebrows who had spoken up for me seated behind a massive desk piled high with papers, folders, and books. He motioned for me to sit down in the chair across from his desk. I did. I heard the door close behind me and looked back. The lieutenant had left.
“Zelda Livingston.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you want to tell me what really happened?”
“Excuse me?”
He looked at me sternly, then rolled the nasty tip of the cigar around in his mouth. The bushy eyebrows exaggerated the fierceness of his glare. He wasn’t playing around.
“A name came across my desk a short time ago. It’s a name I know as well as I know my own.” He didn’t say anything more. He just looked at me. Then he spoke one word and my heart shattered. “Daniel.”
“Is he okay?” I asked quietly, hearing my voice quiver.
“No, Miss Livingston, he’s not okay. And he’s not going to be okay. Not any time soon.”
I started crying. A flood of unending tears spilled free like the runoff of a dam.
“I’m doing this because I served with his father and he was a good man, an honest man. And I know the son is as admirable as the father.”
“I don’t understand,” I said.
He reached over and laid the nasty cigar in an empty ashtray. “Daniel is being charged with murder.”
I gasped.
“His fingerprints were on the gun.”
His words ate at my insides like acid eating through cotton. But still I remained silent. A part of me didn’t trust he was telling me the truth.
“See, I happen to believe Daniel is covering for someone. Is it you? Did you kill Robert Kent?”
I didn’t answer him.
“Billy is claiming it was you.”
“He was drunk.”
“Daniel told you to say that, didn’t he?” I shook my head continuously. “But what you don’t understand is that he’s going to prison for a very long time and he doesn’t deserve that. Now, if you want to tell me the truth, I’m listening.”
There was a knock on the door.
“Come.”
The door opened. A regular policeman walked into the room. At first I thought he was there for me, but seconds later Daniel stood at the doorway. He shuffled inside. He had on a blue shirt and jeans, and he was handcuffed and shackled. My heart stopped beating. He had been beaten badly. He had a black eye, bruises, cuts, and it looked like his nose had been broken. I stood up. My legs wobbled, and my heart sank into my stomach.
He looked at the general and smiled. “Thank you, sir.”
“I’m listening,” the officer said. “Tell me the truth.”
“Zelda, no,” Daniel said. “Don’t.”
I stared at Daniel. “I have to. I can’t let you go to jail.”
“Sir, the truth is Billy beat up Mazie, then Rob and Billy were fighting in the hallway. The gun went off. Daniel came down from the third floor. Billy was railing and cussing and drunk. The gun was on the floor. I picked it up to get it away from him. Billy saw me. He was malicious and vile, and he said he was going to blame us and kill everybody. Daniel stopped him. That’s when we ran.”
The officer nodded. “Daniel’s fingerprints were on the barrel of the gun.”
I nodded. “He took it from me. He didn’t shoot Rob. He protected us. He still is.” I took a deep breath. Yes, I had told the truth, mostly, in order to keep us safe.
“I see. Why didn’t you tell the police that and why didn’t you testify to that earlier?”
“I was afraid. I still am. Justice isn’t always blind in this country.”
The officer seemed to nod his head sadly, then stood up. “I’ll give you a few minutes.”
“What do you mean?” I asked the officer as he kept walking. “What does that mean?” I asked Daniel as he just stood there, silent. “I told the truth,” I yelled.
“Zelda.”
“What does that mean?” I asked him again.
“Nothing,” he said. “It means nothing. I signed a confession. It stands.”
My heart exploded. “No!” I stood and took a step toward him, then crumpled against the desk. Still my eyes were firmly set on the man who had given his life for me, for us. His dreams gone. His future gone. His life gone. There was nothing I could do but let him be the man he was.
I walked to him slowly. He smiled and reached out his cuffed hand. I grabbed it and held tight. He passed me a shiny object. It was the flask with the peach schnapps. “I need you to hold on to this for me.”
I nodded. “I will. Always.”
“Let’s go,” the man behind him said.
“What can I do?” I asked tearfully, fretfully.
“Be strong. Make your father proud. Make me proud.”
“I will. I promise.” I grabbed hold and kissed him as the man behind him pulled him away. Seconds later he was gone. I looked at the flask in my hand. It was all I had left.
“Miss Livingston, this way.”
I turned. Lieutenant Smith was standing at the open door.
“This way.”
I followed him out of the office and down the stairs. I saw Veronica and Daphne sitting in the large open lobby talking quietly. They turned, looked at me, and smiled. As soon as I walked up, they stood and hugged me.
“Ladies, on behalf of the United States military we appreciate your cooperation. We’ve released an official press statement thanking you for your invaluable assistance. You’re free to go.”
“Thank you,” Daphne said, smiling happily.
I was too horrified to move. I collapsed onto the wooden bench. Veronica and Daphne each sat beside me.
“What?” they begged.
The dam broke. I cried for Daniel, for me, for all of us. I wanted to say something, to tell Veronica and Daphne what had happened, but I couldn’t get the words out. Then I saw Daniel one last time, handcuffed, shackled, broken like the prisoners on the side of the road. I stood up. Veronica and Daphne turned around. They wept.
Daniel and I looked at each other, proud, strong, and loved. He nodded and smiled. I did too. What passed between us was an understanding more real than either one of us could have imagined. In the end there was nothing we could do and we both knew it. The truth didn’t matter. It never did. He had given his life to save and protect me. This was reality. The world would always see Daniel as guilty no matter what.
1988
Epilogue
WE SURVIVED.
Like sand pouring through an hourglass, time, uninterrupted, flowed continuously, barely bumped by the events of that night. For years I’ve tried to put the haunting memories of what happened behind me, but I never quite have. The shadows still remain. They echo and reverberate, r
olling in and out like the ebb and flow of the morning’s tide, returning again and again, ever present, ever fleeting, ever emerging, but never disrupting the normal course of life.
When we gather together, the three of us, we laugh and talk and reminisce, but we never speak about those memories. They just hang there like rotted fruit on a dead tree in the make-believe darkness as if it had never happened. But it did.
Forever bonded by the dark secrets, we survived to see better days and to follow our dreams. Veronica and I stood by Daphne’s side as she married Dr. Kimo Lee, and again when she became an associate professor at the University of Pennsylvania. Now with five glorious, delightful children, she is the happiest I’ve ever seen her.
Veronica dutifully married and then became a widow, all within six months. Her husband was killed by his lover and he left her all his shares in his father’s company, propelling her to that coveted seat at the head of the table. Her savvy business sense has transformed the company and prepared it to face the challenges in the coming century. She married again, this time for love.
I realized my dream and became a civil rights attorney. I fight to protect those most vulnerable, the innocent, like Daniel. Never charged. Never convicted. Still sentenced and executed. He never made it to jail that day. He was killed, shot, trying to escape.
It wasn’t meant to be for us, and on some level we knew it. That one moment in time was all we were given. Two souls lost in a bygone era, laid siege by hatred and cruelty. But for one night he had belonged to me and we had belonged to each other. I am forever thankful for the turbulent nine hundred miles that brought us together. He was my hero. He had saved me. He had changed me.
I turn, seeing our daughter, Danielle, walking toward me. She’s got her father’s piercing eyes, his warmth and heartfelt tenderness. From me, she has the fire in her stomach and the aptitude and the drive to make a difference. A lot happened to bring her into this world. She is the only evidence that he existed and that in one night we loved and lived for a lifetime. At nineteen she has graduated from Howard University and is on her way to changing the world, first in the Peace Corps and then as an attorney, following in my footsteps.
She holds her pinkie finger up, and I touch mine to hers.
This is just the beginning of her future and I know the struggle is still ahead.
I have learned to trust the God of my father and grandfather and believe that Daniel, in spirit, is with me every step of the way.
To live in the hearts we leave behind is not to die.
Acknowledgments
FIRST AND FOREMOST, ALL PRAISES TO GOD, WHO CONTINUES to bless my life.
To my amazing husband, Charles, you are my love, my motivator, my best friend, and my forever shining star. Your unwavering support and steadfast encouragement keeps me focused and lifts me up every day of my life.
To my wonderful children, Jennifer, Christopher, Prince, and Charles, thank you for always bringing joy and happiness into my world. You are truly my blessing.
To my parents, Otis and Mable Johnson, you long ago inspired this novel, and I know you will always stand with me. To my loving siblings, Karen Linton and Amanda Mitchell, and my brother-in-law, William Mitchell, you stay firmly in my corner with guidance and support, and constantly challenge me to dream bigger and stay focused on the finish line. To Charles and Hattie Smith, to Roszine and Andrew Stephenson, you are my tireless supporters. Thank you.
To my dear friends Paulette and Allen Jones, Michael and Andrea Jenkins, Frances DeLoach, Renee Salnauve, Suzi White, Jeff and Theresa Coles. You have all touched my life and made it better. To my sister authors who constantly challenge and inspire me, Michelle Monkou, Maureen Smith, and Candice Poarch. I am eternally grateful for your friendship.
And finally, this book would not have happened without the diligence, patience, and dedicated hard work of my agent, Elaine English, my writing mentor, Evette Porter, and the wonderful editorial mastermind at HarperCollins Publishers, the amazing Tracy Sherrod. Your guidance, support, and insight constantly renewed my spirit.
About the Author
CELESTE O. NORFLEET is a nationally bestselling author of more than thirty critically acclaimed novels. She is the recipient of six awards from Romance Slam Jam (RSJ) as well as a lifetime achievement award. She was also honored with the BRAB, 2016 Frances Ray Lifetime Literary Legacy Award. She is a graduate of Moore College of Art and Design. She lives in Virginia.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
Also by Celeste O. Norfleet
Irresistible You
Just One Taste
Love Is for Keeps
Mine at Last
One Sure Thing
Only You
Priceless Gift
Reflections of You
A Taste of Romance
The Thrill of You
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ONE NIGHT IN GEORGIA. Copyright © 2019 by Celeste O. Norfleet. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Cover design: Milan Bozic
FIRST EDITION
* * *
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Norfleet, Celeste O., author.
Title: One night in Georgia : a novel / Celeste O. Norfleet.
Description: First edition. | New York, NY : Amistad, 2019
Identifiers: LCCN 2018058771 (print) | LCCN 2019000590 (ebook) | ISBN 9780062329912 (ebook) | ISBN 9780062329899 (paperback)
Subjects: LCSH: African Americans—Fiction. | Race relations—Fiction. | Nineteen sixty-eight, A.D.—Fiction. | BISAC: FICTION / African American / Historical. | FICTION / African American / Romance. | FICTION / African American / General. | GSAFD: Road fiction.
Classification: LCC PS3614.O735 (ebook) | LCC PS3614.O735 O54 2019 (print) | DDC 813/.6—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018058771
* * *
Digital Edition MAY 2019 ISBN: 978-0-06-232991-2
Version 05112019
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-232989-9
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