“Oh yeah, babe, congratulations to you,” Phillip told his wife. “I saw the case with Dwayne Murphy. I knew they’d give him life.”
“What? You approve of a life sentence?” Kay joked.
“Hey, I have no problem with locking up criminals who commit heinous crimes. It’s the young boys I have an issue with.”
They did discuss cases after they were over so Kay didn’t mind telling her husband about this one. “It is really sad. Dwayne has four sons, two of whom have already been in jail. So the cycle will just continue.”
“Yeah,” Phillip replied, his mood turning melancholy, “that’s why I do what I do. Hoping to stop the cycle. I just wish there was some kind of way we could give these boys better opportunities.”
“I do, too,” Kay said, “but some people you just can’t help. They don’t want to be helped. Now the case you just wrapped up,” she continued, “that boy, he deserved a second chance. So, I’m glad you got him off.”
Phillip had also emerged victorious in a case against an honor roll student who was shot after police mistook his black marker for a gun.
“Just curious, why do you think he deserves a second chance?” Phillip asked.
“Because that cop was trigger happy, with a history of complaints, and that boy just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Phillip let out a deep sigh. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, there are a lot of boys in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“There is a difference. Take Trayvon Martin,” Kay countered. “He didn’t deserve what he got at all. He was minding his business. Michael Brown, on the other hand, he took some cigars.”
Phillip looked at her, stunned. “Alleged to have taken some cigars, which the police officer reportedly didn’t know at the time. Regardless, you think that was worth him dying over?”
“Absolutely not,” Kay said. “Make no mistake about that, but what we have to get these young boys to understand is that when you place yourself in these precarious positions, then you’re asking for trouble; right or wrong, you give people reason to justify shooting.”
“It’s so much deeper than that, Kay. I don’t know if you could even understand. I would think with the number of young men you see coming through your courtroom, you’d be a little more sympathetic.”
“No, I’m actually able to look at it from the other side because I’ve seen several young men who have been given chance after chance. Men who tried to use the ‘system wronged me’ excuse and then they got right back out there and did the same thing.”
“Well, there’s a number of reasons; lack of jobs, for one.”
“Okay, we’re not gonna start with the ‘I got an excuse ’cause the white man keeping me down.’ It’s time we stop waiting for other people to lift us up and try to lift ourselves up,” Kay replied.
“This conversation is soooo boring,” Leslie chimed in. “Can we talk about something else?”
Phillip and Kay looked at each other and smiled. Their daughter was right. Their passionate debates were one thing they loved about each other, but this was family time.
“What would you like to talk about, Sweet Pea?” Phillip asked.
“Justin Bieber,” she answered, her eyes wide with excitement.
“Really?” Phillip raised an eyebrow at his wife. “Why is our four-year-old into Justin Bieber?”
“Just be glad it’s not Chris Brown or someone like that.”
“I don’t want my four-year-old into anything but Teletubbies,” Phillip said.
“What’s a Teletubby?” Leslie asked.
Phillip and Kay laughed. They really were out of touch. That had been Ryan’s favorite cartoon when he was a little boy. It was at that point when Kay noticed Ryan hadn’t said a word as he sat picking over his food.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Ryan?” Kay asked.
“Yeah,” he replied.
“You don’t look okay,” Phillip said. “Son, how’s school going?”
“It’s all right.”
“Well, did you make the lacrosse team?”
“Nah,” he said. “I didn’t try out. I was thinking it would take away too much time from my schoolwork.”
As much as she loved her stepson and how studious he was, Kay really did wish he would learn to relax and have some fun. Maybe she’d look into taking him and Charlie to an upcoming concert or something. She needed to show Ryan how to enjoy his childhood and just have fun.
“So, is it your night to do the dishes? Or is it mine?” Kay said, as she stood and started clearing the table.
A mischievous grin spread across Phillip’s face. “How about we do them together and then go find some way to entertain ourselves later?”
“Ugh,” Ryan said. “Can you two not?”
Kay giggled.
“How are you going to entertain yourselves?” Leslie asked. “Can I come, too?”
“No, sweetie. That’s Mommy and Daddy time,” Kay replied.
“On that note,” Ryan said, standing up, “I’m out.” He pushed away from the table and walked off.
Phillip lost his smile. “You know,” he said to Kay, “I’m a little worried about him.”
“Oh, you know your son. It’s probably nothing,” Kay said, dismissing his concern. “When it comes to Ryan Christiansen, you don’t have anything at all to worry about.”
That was one thing Kay was willing to put money on.
11
* * *
* * *
Gloria didn’t know if she was making the right choice, and she prayed that Jamal didn’t hate her for it, but she didn’t know what else to do. She didn’t want to keep the lies going with her husband and at this point they needed him to do what God had called him to do—lead their household.
She’d made the decision to tell Elton about Jamal after she saw the news this morning. The local media had been covering the case nonstop. Gloria had watched in horror as the reporter interviewed a Jasper resident named Mickey.
“Why are you out here protesting?” the reporter had asked.
“ ’Cause that boy gunned down one of Jasper’s finest, who only wanted to protect and serve.” The man leaned over and spit out some of the snuff that was stuffed in his bottom lip. “And the good folks of Jasper are waiting on him to be brought in—dead or alive.”
His words, and the way he’d peered into the camera with beady, evil eyes, let Gloria know that her son was in serious danger. If they had any hope of working this out, they needed to come together as a family.
“Woman, are you gonna tell me where we’re going?” Elton said as they turned into Naomi’s neighborhood. He’d been griping since he’d gotten in the car and Gloria wanted so bad to tell him to just shut up and ride.
She’d tossed and turned all night after her mother left. She’d prayed, then prayed some more before telling Elton. Well, she hadn’t told him—yet. She’d fixed him a hearty breakfast, complete with his favorites—smothered biscuits and sausage and hash browns. Then, when he’d finished, she told him to come with her and ask no questions. Of course, he’d been asking questions ever since.
“You know I got a million and one things to do.” He leaned out the window to survey their location. “And are you driving around in circles?” he said, noticing the 7-Eleven they’d passed five minutes ago. She had already stopped at a church member’s house to drop off something, then taken a back route to Naomi’s. Her stomach was in knots because she’d been worried about the police following her. But the short staff must’ve been taking its toll on the police force because for the past three days, there had been large gaps in between the time the marked units were parked outside their house. As soon as she’d seen the cop car pull off this morning, she’d grabbed Elton and instructed him to follow her.
“I’m not trying to ride around wi
th you while you run errands,” Elton said.
Gloria glanced in her rearview mirror as she made a quick right turn.
“Where are you going and why do you keep looking in the rearview mirror?” Elton asked. He was definitely getting agitated.
“I just want to make sure we’re not being followed,” she said.
“Okay, Gloria, you need to tell me what in the world is going on,” he said, his voice firm. “Does this secret mission have anything to do with Jamal?”
When she was absolutely sure no one was following her, Gloria turned down the back alley that Naomi had shown her.
“Come on,” she said, stopping the car and parking.
“I don’t like all of this Double-O spy stuff,” he huffed.
“Just come on, Elton. Trust me.” She exited the car without giving him a chance to respond.
He followed her up Naomi’s back walkway and stood looking around nervously as Gloria reached under a flowerpot and got a key.
“Why are you going into Naomi’s house? Where is she?”
Gloria wanted to tell him to shut up, but she had never been disrespectful to her husband and she wasn’t going to start now.
She pulled him inside and toward the back room, flipping on the main light in the hallway. He followed her but asked no more questions.
She repeated the scene that Naomi had played out, moving the dresser and all of the clothes on the floor in the front of the closet door. She opened the door and whispered, “Jamal, it’s me.”
“Jamal!” Elton bellowed.
Gloria motioned for him to keep his voice down. Jamal moved some clothes out of the way and peeked out, his eyes wide.
“You brought him?” Jamal cried. “I can’t believe you brought him!”
“Jamal, what are you doing in there?” Elton hissed as he peered into the dark closet. “Come out here now!”
Jamal eased out of the closet. Thankfully, he’d cleaned up some and had put on a fresh T-shirt. He still looked weary around the eyes.
“Are you hiding him here?” Elton snapped at Gloria.
“Good to see you, too, Daddy,” Jamal said, his voice a mixture of sarcasm and exhaustion.
Elton took a deep breath and pulled his son into an awkward hug, then quickly released him. “Of course I’m glad that you’re all right, but somebody needs to explain to me what’s going on.”
“I just found out that he was here,” Gloria replied as Jamal continued to look at her like he couldn’t believe that she had betrayed him. “Baby, I’m sorry, but your dad needed to know.”
“You’re doggone right!” Elton said. “You got your mama running around putting her freedom on the line! How would you feel if they threw your mama in jail behind this?”
Jamal bit his bottom lip as a thin mist covered his eyes. Over the past year, he’d become defiant whenever Elton chastised him, but now, he’d returned to his childhood response to his father’s wrath—looking away in shame.
“He didn’t have me doing anything, Elton,” Gloria protested. “We’re trying to figure this out.”
“There’s nothing to figure out. You have to turn yourself in,” Elton said.
“See, Ma!” Jamal exclaimed, a look of panic spreading across his face.
“You just have to cause havoc!” Elton said. He shook his head as he paced in the small bedroom. “Do you know the shame you have brought to this family?”
“It’s all about the shame,” Jamal mumbled.
Elton spun toward him, jabbing a finger in his face. “Don’t you dare get smart. Do you know what the last few days have been like for us? A nightmare! And the police are following us everywhere. They’re even at church! Defiling God’s house. Harassing the members. Harassing us. They were convinced we were hiding you somewhere!” He turned and glared at Gloria. “Little did I know they were right.”
“Dad—”
“Don’t dad me,” Elton snapped, turning his venom back in Jamal’s direction. “Do you know your mama could’ve been arrested if they caught her coming here?”
“Elton, now is not the time!” Gloria snapped, trying to cut off his rant. “We need to help our son.”
“This is ridiculous. I’m gonna help him all right. Let’s go,” Elton said, grabbing Jamal’s arm.
“Go where?” Jamal asked as his father literally dragged him toward the door.
“We’re about to go to the police station.”
Jamal broke free and darted across the room. “Mom, see, this is what I’m talking about!” he cried. “This is why I didn’t want him to know where I was!”
“So, on top of everything else, you wanted your mama to lie to me?” Elton said.
Panic swept through Gloria’s body. “Stop it! Just calm down. Both of you,” she said. “We need to talk about this.”
“There’s nothing we need to talk about.” Elton looked back and forth between the two of them, then settled his gaze on Gloria. He took a deep breath and stepped toward his wife as if he desperately wanted to reason with her. “He has to turn himself in, Gloria. There is no other way. They’ll come in here shooting at me and you.” He turned back to Jamal. “I’m not going to let you ruin this family, son.”
“I am this family,” Jamal cried. “Does anyone care about me?”
“Of course we do,” Elton said, “but we’re not going to condone you shooting a police officer.”
“I didn’t mean to shoot him!” Jamal cried. “It was an accident.” He turned to Gloria. “Tell him, Mama. Tell him it was an accident.”
“Okay, fine. It was an accident. We’ll tell that to the police,” Elton said, trying to remain calm.
“Mom . . .” Jamal turned to Gloria like he knew there was no getting through to his father. “I’m not going to jail. Those racist cops will kill me. I will never survive.”
“Stop trying to make this about race,” Elton said. “You did something bad and we need to deal with it.”
Gloria stared at her husband in disbelief. Surely he couldn’t be that delusional. If those Jasper cops got her son, this would definitely be about race.
“Are you serious?” Jamal said. “You know how these people are.”
“Of course I know, son,” Elton said. “But you can’t run. Plain and simple.”
“I’m not going to jail,” he repeated.
Gloria stepped up and took her son’s hands. She was glad when he didn’t jerk them away. “Baby, no one’s trying to make you go to jail. Your daddy will call Perry and he’ll represent you, and we’ll tell them. We’ll get the police to understand that this was all a horrible accident.”
Even as the words left her mouth, she knew better. The look on Jamal’s face said he didn’t believe her, either. But she had to stay hopeful.
“We’re a family. We have gotten through things worse than this,” she continued.
She glared at Elton. “Haven’t we?”
He didn’t reply.
“No, I’m leaving,” Jamal said, reaching for something in the closet. He pulled out a pink and purple kiddie backpack, no doubt belonging to Naomi’s granddaughter. “You can either help me or I’ll make it on my own.”
Elton must’ve decided to take a different approach because he said, “Son, a life on the run is not the way to go.”
Jamal ignored his father. “Mom, I waited here because you told me to trust you. I thought I could.”
“You can, baby. You can trust both of us.” Gloria was trembling. She’d hadn’t expected Jamal to run. “Your father will tell you, he’s not gonna do a thing until we’ve all worked this out. Right?”
Elton just stood there.
“Right?” she demanded.
He nodded, although his displeasure was evident. “Fine, we’ll work it out. I don’t know how, but I guess we will. Let’s just hope all three of us don’t
end up in jail before that happens.”
Gloria felt sick to her stomach. Once again, she’d made the wrong decision. Telling Elton was the worst thing she could’ve done. Why she expected any reaction other than the one he was giving right now proved that this situation was causing her to lose all rational thinking. Now the question was, how was she going to clean up the mess she’d made?
12
* * *
* * *
For someone who was on the brink of what could be a very ugly divorce, Kay’s best friend, Camille, was in a pretty good mood.
“Girl, I have to give you major props,” Kay said, turning the volume up on her car phone speaker so she could hear Camille better. “I just could not have the same upbeat attitude as you if Phillip and I broke up.”
“Of course, I’m sad about it. I gave this man fifteen years of my life,” Camille replied. “But man sharing is against my religion so he had to go.”
Camille and her husband, Vincent, owned a bail bonds company, so Kay had met them eight years ago through their legal interactions. The two of them were so close because Camille was everything that Kay was not—bold, outspoken, and vivacious. A gorgeous, statuesque woman, Camille was actually the brawn of their bail bonds business. Her father had been a private investigator, so she knew the art of tracking down people to collect her money.
They didn’t get to talk as much as they used to, something Kay hated. But between her job and the mayoral race, Kay was always on the run. Their sons were both the same age, attended the same private school, so if Camille and Kay didn’t manage to talk about things in general, they kept in regular contact because Ryan and Charlie were always together.
That’s why Camille had called today, while Kay was on her way to speak to Phillip’s mentoring group. Camille wanted to let Kay know that she was picking the boys up after school. Their conversation had quickly shifted as Camille started telling Kay some more details she’d found out about Vincent’s twenty-two-year-old jump-off.
“Girl, she had the audacity to call me and tell me that she would be the new Mrs. Bailey soon and she wanted us to have a good relationship for Charlie and Zola’s sake,” Camille huffed. Kay knew neither Charlie nor Camille’s seven-year-old daughter, Zola, was happy about the divorce. “Vincent hadn’t even been gone two weeks and she’s calling me with that mess,” Camille continued. “I told Vincent he’d better get his hoes in check before he ends up having to post bail for me.”
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