Chocolate Girls with Golden Hair

by Carrie Carr

  No longer could she avoid the inevitable. She reached for the towel, about to undo it, when her cell phone on the kitchen counter rang. It startled her so much she almost jumped from her seat.

  It could not have come at a more opportune moment, a moment to separate herself from them and their antagonizing questions and requests. Bianca glanced over at the phone and stood up. "Excuse me," she said, before she made her way into the kitchen and picked up the phone. She kept an eye out for the detectives as it would only be a matter of seconds before one or both of them would rear their nosy bodies in after her.

  "Hey, Sunshine," Lee said. "I called your job. They said you didn't come in today. What's going on?"

  Her first response was to say the word everything, but instead she wore a false front and avoided his question. "Hi, Lee." Just as Bianca feared, as soon as Bianca greeted Lee, Detective Uhler came into the kitchen and stared at her. She moved the phone away from her mouth and covered it with her hand.

  "I'll be off in a minute," she said to Detective Uhler.

  "Take your time," Detective Uhler said.

  "Who was that?" Lee asked.

  "Lee, I can't talk right now, but I'll call you back."

  "Are you sure you're okay?"

  "Yes, I'm fine."

  As soon as Bianca abruptly ended the call, she noticed Detective Uhler, observing the overflowing empty wine bottles in the garbage. With all the idle time she spent at home that morning, she never once bothered to take out the trash, and it was too late now.

  "Do you drink, Ms. Bell?"

  "Sometimes."

  Sometimes was definitely an understatement, and she could tell by the expression on his face that he knew it.

  Out of nowhere, Detective Lane hurled into the kitchen. "I think there's something in here you should see," he said to Detective Uhler.

  Bianca's heart pounded so fast she worried it would just stop, which would have suited her just fine. But she was not that lucky. She tried her best to stay positive. She inhaled a deep breath, hoping they would return to the kitchen and thank her for her time, but she would have to be a moron if she believed that was ever going to happen, not in this lifetime or any lifetime to come.

  Less than thirty seconds passed before Detectives Uhler and Lane returned to the kitchen. They wore stern looks on their faces as if they had just seen a ghost, a telltale sign that it was not good. No one said a word, especially not her as the part of her brain for speech failed to function due to fear. Detective Lane eased his hands into his pockets, while Detective Uhler stepped towards her. "Did you color your hair this morning?"

  Instead of answering his question, Bianca swallowed hard, hoping that Detective Lane might answer for her. How could she have been stupid enough to color her hair back and draw this insurmountable attention to herself?

  "Ms. Bell?" Detective Uhler said.

  "Huh?"

  "Did you color your hair this morning?"

  "Yes."

  "Could you remove the towel from your head?" Detective Lane asked.

  Unable to avoid the inevitable any longer, Bianca removed the towel from her head and her damp black hair fell to her shoulders. Only two seconds elapsed before Detective Uhler responded. "We'd like for you to get dressed and come with us."

  Could this really be happening to her, or was she dreaming? Right about now those graves at St. Lucas Cemetery were looking pretty appealing.

  "Why? I answered your questions."

  "Please, get dressed and come with us."

  Panic and fear oozed from every inch of her being as she stepped back, wanting to avoid going with them at any cost. "Why do we have leave? Why can't you just ask me questions here, like you did before?"

  Detective Uhler exhaled a long whispering breath as if to say this debate is over. Finally, she resigned to the fact that she had to go, and there was nothing she could do about it, at least not at that very moment anyway.

  Though she had recently been arrested before for shoplifting, it was different now. She was being arrested for murder, and that was no small pill.

  "Okay. I'll get dressed," she said, then proceeded to head out of the kitchen. She then stopped and turned to face Detective Uhler. "I don't suppose I have time to blow dry my hair, do I?"

  The smirk on Detective Uhler's face said it all, 'absolutely not.' She figured there was no harm in asking.

  Less than two minutes passed when Bianca came from her bedroom. She wore jeans and her hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail. When she grabbed her keys from the kitchen counter, she wondered if they might handcuff her. After picking up her coat form the sofa, she asked, "Are you going to put handcuffs on me."

  She knew it must have seemed to them like she wanted to be handcuffed, but that wasn't the case at all. She was just curious.

  "I don't think that will be necessary," Detective Uhler said.

  Bianca stood between Detectives Uhler and Lane at the elevator. She didn't understand why they couldn't continue their investigation at her apartment. What difference did it really make whether they were at her apartment or somewhere else?

  With sweaty palms and knots in her stomach, Bianca felt a neurosis coming on. She fished for an idea of how to avoid going with them, then it hit her. "I forgot my purse."

  Detective Uhler didn't say a word.

  "Is it okay if I get my purse?" she asked them.

  Detective Uhler nodded.

  As she strolled towards her apartment, Detective Lane followed behind her.

  Bianca stood at her door, grabbed her keys from her pocket and fumbled with the lock, pretending to have trouble with the key. "I don't know what's wrong with this key."

  Detective Lane stood firmly behind her. He was no doubt eyeballing her with a careful eye while Bianca continued her fake fuss with the key.

  "What are you doing, Ms. Bell?" Detective Lane questioned.

  "I'm having trouble with this key."

  As soon as she finished her last sentence, the ding of the elevator was just the moment she needed to make a run for it. She lunged down the hallway, headed for the staircase, listening to the thumps of Detective Lane trailing behind her. She flung through the stairway door, leaped down two flights of stairs, all the while Detective Lane was fast on her trail. She reached the sixth floor, swung the door open and zipped through. Almost out of breath, she rammed into a young woman who carried two garbage bags, knocking her off her feet.

  Without a moment to catch her breath, Bianca picked herself up fast. "Sorry," Bianca said to the woman, before she continued down the hall. She managed to gain a tiny distance from Detective Lane, just enough time to make it to the staircase at the opposite end of the hallway.

  As Bianca jetted through the door, the perspiration drizzled from her forehead, but she didn't look back. She mounted a flight of stairs, opened the door to the seventh floor and rushed through, not knowing how much longer she could continue to run. She sprinted into the garbage chute and pulled the door shut behind her.

  She stood completely still. As she wiped the sweat from her forehead, she tried desperately not to let a breath escape from her mouth. She failed to think through her impulsive plan to run and she didn't have a clue as to what she might do next.

  A minute passed since she stored herself in the garbage chute, and a tinge of hope leapt into her heart as she moved her ear to the door.

  Maybe she lost them.

  For the first time, her heart slowed down to a more normal beat. With her ear to the door, she only heard silence, but she was afraid to move.

  Maybe it was a trick.

  Maybe they were just waiting for her to make a move. Then it dawned on her that if they knew where she was, surely they would have come for her by now. It wasn't like they were afraid of her.

  Who would have thought her journey of adventure would have taken her to a place like this?

  Hiding out in the garbage chute. Immobilized, she listened to the sound of her breath. With nothing to look at but the wa
ll in front of her, she would wait a little longer before she opened the door. After several minutes, she put her ear against the door and heard nothing. She then placed her hand on the doorknob and slowly turned it. As soon as the door opened, the sight of Detective Lane was staggering as he stood with his gun drawn on her. She inhaled a deep breath, and her instincts caused her to pull the door shut. Without a moment in between, Detective Uhler swung the door open and yanked her out by the collar.

  Bianca's eyes bulged and her face was flushed as Detective Uhler's eyes met with hers. "Now, about those handcuffs," he said to her.

  Detective Lane slapped the handcuffs on her fast, which pinched her wrists. Luckily, she was handcuffed from the front, in lieu of behind her back. It wasn't until the handcuffs were completely fastened on her wrists that she understood just how guilty her actions made her look as she behaved like a fugitive. If ever there was a time to dial down the craziness, now was the time.

  When would she learn to handle things in stride without always acting out? This was a lesson that came a little too late. When God was handing out brains, she failed to get in line.

  When they reached the police station on Addison and Halsted, Bianca wondered if they would escort her to lockup, but, lucky for her, they didn't. Instead, they escorted her into a room for further questioning.

  In the small antiseptic room with dim lights, she sat across the table from Detectives Uhler and Lane. She was still handcuffed and her hair was still wet. Bianca sat quietly, praying that she would not be charged with the murder of Bruce Colby. Even still, with each silent moment that passed, her spirit turned a darker shade of blue, waiting and anticipating the worst.

  Finally, Detective Uhler pulled out his note pad. "Ms. Bell, why did you run?"

  She didn't answer his question. Instead, she peered down at the handcuffs on her wrists.

  "'Could you remove the handcuffs, please?"

  Detective Uhler glanced over at Detective Lane, as if he was considering her request. "You're not going to try and run away again, are you?" Detective Uhler asked.

  "No." She was still trying to catch her breath from all the running she did earlier.

  Detective Lane rose from a sitting position, seized the key from his pocket, stepped over to her and removed the handcuffs. He then stood at a short distance from her, his hands in his pockets. Bianca rubbed her bruised wrist with a humble look on her face. "When do I get to make my phone call?"

  "Don't worry. You'll get your phone call," Detective Uhler said to her.

  "May I have some water please?"

  "No, you may not," Detective Lane said.

  "I thought detectives were supposed to be nice people."

  "Who told you that?" Detective Lane asked her.

  She hoped to stall the questioning for as long as possible, especially since the issue of her hair color was bound to come up again.

  Bianca lost her humility and changed her tune. No longer was she the timid little mouse that they escorted in for questioning. She was now just plain angry. "What is it you want to know? I told you everything. Anyway, you're wasting your time with this. I'm not even strong enough to strangle anyone and what would be my reason if I were?"

  "There's always a reason," Detective Lane said as he peered at her. "Why did you run?"

  A faint smile covered Bianca's face as she wrenched and turned, not sure how best to answer. Then the truth escaped from her lips. "I was scared, didn't know what else to do."

  "Where were you going to go?" Detective Lane asked her.

  "I don't know."

  Detective Uhler glanced over his notes. "Ms. Bell, in your apartment I noticed the framed obituaries of your family. That was your family, wasn't it?

  "Yes."

  "Why don't you tell us what happened to them?"

  "They died."

  "They died or they were murdered?" Detective Lane asked.

  After briefly composing herself, she said, "So you're now saying that I took out my whole family?"

  "We're not saying anything," Detective Uhler said. "We want you to tell us."

  Bianca hated the way Detective Lane studied her every time she spoke, judging her every word and move, as if predetermining her fate.

  "My family has nothing to do with why I'm here."

  "How did they die, Ms. Bell?" Detective Lane asked her.

  "I don't know."

  "Oh, you know," Detective Uhler said.

  "What if I refuse to answer?

  "We have all day and night," Detective Uhler said. "And don't even think about lying, because I'll check it out."

  In enough trouble and frightened to the core, the last thing she wanted to do was talk about the death of her family. Why were they putting so much emphasis on her deceased family? She wrestled with the decision of whether to disclose such personal details that could reopen too many old wounds.

  "We're waiting," Detective Lane stated firmly.

  She realized that they were not likely to let up. Without giving it any further thought, she inhaled a deep breath and shifted her body back into the chair.

  "My sister was strangled, my father shot my mother, then shot himself. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

  The detectives shared a look between each other, then Detective Uhler asked as he removed his glasses. "Why was your sister murdered?"

  "Why?" Bianca asked, as if she didn't understand the question.

  Detective Uhler didn't repeat the question and didn't seem the type to back down. While he waited for an answer, she realized that her anger served no purpose and thought maybe if she just answered their questions without hesitation, everything would be all right, and they would let her go.

  With her hands flat down on the table, she exhaled a short breath. "My sister was having an affair and her jealous, insecure husband found out about it and strangled her. Is there anything else you would like to know?"

  "We want to know everything," Detective Uhler remarked.

  Detective Lane scooted his chair closer to Bianca. "Ms. Bell, you're a suspect to a murder. We can ask you whatever questions we like for as long as we want."

  Detective Uhler interjected. "Don't you think it's a little odd that both your sister and Bruce Colby were strangled?"

  "No, not at all."

  Detective Uhler slid his glasses up on his nose, continuing to scribble notes on his pad. "And what about your mother and father?"

  Bianca exhaled a breath of frustration and asked softly, "May I go to the ladies room? I really need to go."

  Detective Lane chuckled. "No, you may not. We want to know about your parents."

  "I told you."

  "Forget about all of that for now," Detective Uhler said. "I'll ask you something you can easily answer. How do you explain Bruce Colby's wedding band in your desk drawer?"

  Bianca's eyes bulged. "I don't know anything about that, and by the way, aren't I entitled to an attorney?"

  "Sure," Detective Uhler said. "We can lock you up right now until your lawyer arrives or you can talk to us right now. It's your choice."

  Not only did Bianca not have an attorney, but being locked up didn't rest well with her. She would just as well answer their questions in the hopes of satisfying their curiosity to the point of letting her go.

  Detective Uhler studied his notes. "Now, we want to know why security has a record of you leaving the building at six-thirty, the approximate time that Bruce Colby was murdered."

  Bianca's eyes shot to Detective Uhler, the most serious stare she could find in herself. "I didn't kill him."

  "No?" Detective Uhler questioned.

  "No."

  Detective Uhler stood up, pivoted over to Bianca. "Why did you color your hair this morning?"

  Bianca raised her shoulders, and then said, "I didn't like the color anymore. I know you probably think it was because I didn't want to resemble Camina or Michelle, but that's not it at all. It wouldn't have worked anyway. Everyone at the office knows that I have blonde hair. I dyed my
hair back to its natural black color because I didn't like the person I had become since bleaching it blonde."

  "And what person is that?" Detective Lane asked. "A murderess perhaps?"

  Bianca refused to comment on his suggestion.

  "Were you dating Bruce Colby?" Detective Lane asked.

  "No. I was not. That was Camina's boyfriend."

  "Ms. Givens said you had some type of identity problem," Detective Uhler said. "She said you wanted to be like her. What's that all about?"

  "She is welcome to her opinion."

  "Is there bad blood between you and Ms. Givens?" Detective Uhler asked.

  "I don't have anything against her. It's her. She doesn't like me."

  Detective Lane's eyes scrolled across Bianca's face. "Didn't you just say back in your apartment that Camina was the one who told you that Bruce Colby was murdered, that she was your friend?"

  A shallow smile skirted across Bianca's face as she realized she'd been busted. "Did I say that?" she asked innocently.

  "Yes, you did. I was there," Detective Lane said to her.

  "Well, I thought it was her who told me that, but it wasn't. It was another friend, Michelle. She and Camina look an awful lot alike and sometimes I get them mixed up."

  "Hilarious," Detective Lane said. "Even on the phone, they're confusing to you?"

  "Sometimes." Bianca knew that they were not buying any of her story, but what else could she do.

  Bianca could see the suspicious look in Detective Lane's eyes.

  Detective Uhler rested his pen on top of his pad. "Ms. Bell, what were you doing at the office at six-thirty last night?"

  "Working. I work late a lot." Frustrated, she paused. "How long are you going to keep me here?"

  "I wouldn't think about going home too soon if I were you," Detective Uhler said as he picked up his pen.

  "I'm telling you, I didn't kill him," she said. "Why would I kill Bruce, then place his ring and belt in my desk drawer?"

  A shocked look raced across Detective Uhler's face. "I didn't say anything about a belt. How did you know about that? I don't remember mentioning it to you."

  "You didn't mention it. Someone else told me."