by Lynn Emery
Talia promised herself she would return to the career and city she’d grown to treasure. An image of Derrick’s smoky gaze popped into her head. The memory of his hard, warm body was almost too much to bear. Talia hurried inside the house. For five excruciating hours she distracted herself by studying every word that had been written on Monette’s case.
Chapter 13
Monette studied the man seated across from her. “I ain’t seen you in years, Jerry. Kinda surprised to see you now.”
“I’ve been neglectful of an old buddy. I came to say I’m sorry.” Jerome Hines’s attempt to look repentant only succeeded in making him look more suspect.
Jerome Hines had been Winn Barron’s investigator when he was the district attorney. The bony man rubbed a scar on his right jawline. His long, cocoa brown face split into an edgy grin. His expression reminded her of the hyenas she’d seen on nature films. He enjoyed scaring people, especially women. Jerry had relished throwing his weight around back then. Monette wouldn’t let him see the dread that had taken root in her belly the moment he walked in.
“Uh-huh.” Monette leaned back in her chair and stretched one leg out. “We was never buddies.”
“I hate to hear you say that, Monette. I’m here to help you out.”
Jerry spread his hands out as he spoke. Gold rings, a heavy gold bracelet on his right wrist and a Rolex on his left wrist flashed at the movement. He wore a forest green Ralph Lauren polo shirt and dark khaki slacks. Monette guessed his dark red leather loafers were designer and very expensive as well.
“Those fancy clothes and all that jewelry almost makes you look human.” Monette let contempt drip from her voice like acid. She stared at him from head to toe. “Second thought, you ain’t even close.”
The smile on his narrow face froze into something terrible. “I got some advice. Silence is golden.”
Monette felt a stab of fear but gave him an equally frigid smile. “Can’t spend it though.”
“Okay, so much for old-school shit.” His eyes glittered with malevolence. “Let me put it to you in my words. You talk too damn much.”
She knew this game. He only took orders. Monette decided to make a move that could make things better or worse. She leaned toward him and lowered her voice.
“Listen, baby, tell Winn I’ve got somebody on my side for once.”
The cocky smile on Jerry’s face slipped, and he glanced around him. “Keep your damn voice down, okay?”
“He didn’t send you, did he? In fact, he doesn’t know you came on this little visit.” Monette laughed when he rubbed his face nervously.
“Look, don’t be stupid. Maybe I can help you out. But we have too much on the line for you to get things all stirred up. You know what I’m talking about.” Jerry’s harsh whisper cracked with the sound of desperation.
“Earl was still breathing when you took him outta my house,” Monette snapped. “What happened after that is on you.”
“Who will they believe, me or you? I didn’t pull the trigger.” Jerry leaned so close their faces were only an inch apart. “We’re in this together!”
“I know damn well you didn’t keep the gun after all these years. You’re too smart for such a dumb move.” Monette shrugged. “You handled it, too. Jerry, you can’t afford for anybody to start askin’ questions about how y’all got those convictions. Earl can’t talk, but I can.”
Jerry let out a noisy breath and rubbed his face. “It wasn’t my idea, you coming to prison. You know how he was about you. I’ve never seen a guy go that crazy over a woman. When he found out about you and Earl, he had me bring the dude in. Earl made the mistake of catching an attitude. Said we were his bitches, with all he knew on us.”
Monette studied him for several minutes. She arranged players, events, and facts in a neat pattern. “You were going to do Earl anyway, weren’t you?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m just trying to explain why you shouldn’t use the wrong strategy to try and get paroled, alright?” Jerry’s expression turned cold.
“Whatever went down between you, Earl, and Winn doesn’t concern me. But I’m gettin’ outta here by whatever means necessary.”
“I don’t have a choice. Can’t you see that? Barron is even more powerful now than he was back then.” Jerry shook his head.
“I’m not feelin’ real sorry for you, Jerry. I’m sittin’ in a cell, and you’re living it up with your fat wife and big fancy house,” Monette hissed.
“I know people that can help, talk to the parole board members. This social worker I know has a program for women released from prison. She can get you a job and—”
“Right. I’ll be livin’ in some dump halfway house in the ’hood and slingin’ burgers for minimum wage. No thank you.”
Jerry stood and buttoned the dark gray suit jacket. “Okay, I tried. I can’t do anything for you, girl.”
“Like I believe you got my interest at heart. You’re tryin’ to save your own ass.” Monette pointed a finger at him. “He’s got to pay for what he did to me.”
He leaned forward with both palms flat on the table. “You have no idea what he’s capable of. The man has too much to lose. So do you.”
Monette stood to face him. “For over fifteen years I been fightin’ off crazy women who wanna kill you for less than nothin’ and livin’ in a box with a toilet in the corner. What do I have to lose?”
Jerry clenched and unclenched his fists. “Damn, Barron wouldn’t listen,” he muttered low, and looked over his shoulder. “I tried to get you out of this mess.”
“You didn’t try hard enough. Bye.” Monette turned and walked away.
Only when he disappeared from view did Monette let her shoulders drop. Her muscles ached from the tension of maintaining her gutsy facade. Candy kissed her visitor, an elderly man, good-bye. Then she joined Monette.
“You okay?” Candy nodded toward the door. “That guy looks meaner than a hungry junkyard dog.”
“I been fightin’ a long time, Candy. I’m tired.” Monette inhaled deeply and let out a ragged breath.
Candy put an arm around her shoulder. “Hold on, girlfriend. You can make it. Let’s pray.”
“Yeah. God didn’t save my low-down butt for nuthin’.” She wore a poignant smile.
“I love it!” Mama Rose did a turn and walked back like a runway model. She wore a royal blue satin pantsuit. A lovely paisley silk scarf draped one shoulder.
“That’s your color.” Talia laughed. Seeing Mama Rose back to her old form was a true delight. “You can wear that to the first Women’s Auxiliary soiree. Your gentleman friend is going to have you dressed just right to go home.”
Mama Rose smoothed down the long tunic. “I’ll be right back.” She went to her bedroom.
Talia turned on the television and flipped through channels while she waited for her to return. Not finding anything interesting, she glanced around the room. The family photos and Mama Rose’s favorite Black figurine collectibles gave the apartment a cozy feel. Mama Rose came back in wearing a dark green pullover sweater and a long denim skirt.
“Well, tell me what’s happening in your life,” she said. She sat down in her favorite rocking chair, which Karl had brought from her house.
“Not much. Working on this project while I’m here. I don’t feel so disconnected from the office.” Talia put her feet up on a small ottoman.
“Good. Have you been back to visit Monette?” Mama Rose patted a few throw pillows.
Her casual tone didn’t fool Talia. She cleared her throat. “Not yet.”
“She’s trying to get out I understand.” Mama Rose glanced at Talia briefly. She reached into a wicker basket and took out a cross-stitch project.
“Hey, I didn’t know you liked that kind of thing.” Talia stared at her. “You’re not the sit-at-home-knitting type.”
Mama Rose lifted a shoulder. “It’s not so bad. After I got over being mad about being here I finally went to the craft room. I’
m learning how to make ceramics, too.”
“You are?” Talia blinked at her in astonishment.
“There are art classes as well. I’m not that good at drawing, but Harold does lovely watercolors.” Mama Rose pulled the needle through the fabric.
“Harold? What happened to Mr. Franklin?” Talia’s mouth dropped open even wider.
“Too clingy. I needed space,” she said. “We’re still friends though.”
“My, my. You’ve got a whole new life here.” Talia couldn’t believe her ears.
“The ladies and I have fun. I wouldn’t have believed it six weeks ago. Me having a good time in an old folks home.” Mama Rose’s coffee brown eyes twinkled behind her bifocals.
“Assisted-living residence,” Talia corrected.
“Right, let’s be politically correct.” Mama Rose chuckled. “But seriously, I had the stereotype of a nursing home from the old days. This place is nothing like that.”
“So it will be tougher than you thought going home?” Talia smiled at her.
Mama Rose stopped sewing and put her project down. “The doctor talked to me yesterday.”
Talia felt a prickle of apprehension. “What did he say?”
“Don’t be alarmed, sugar. I’m doing fine. My recovery is going well, and this medication has me shipshape.”
“You’re telling me everything, right?” Talia replied with a touch of suspicion in her voice. “Don’t try to protect me.”
“Of course I’m telling you everything.” Mama Rose’s expression was one of maternal affection. “You were always such a tough little girl on the outside. But inside you were a sensitive child.”
Talia picked up a throw pillow. She smoothed the fabric with one hand, then realized she was more like Mama Rose than Monette. Maybe she’d be making pottery and embroidering cute kittens on fabric one day. Scary thought, she mused, and put the pillow down.
“I just don’t like surprises,” Talia said.
“That hard shell has helped you through bad times.” Mama Rose rocked as she gazed at Talia. “It’s time to take it off.”
“We were talking about you, Missy,” Talia said. “What did the doctor say?”
Mama Rose nodded as though she understood some unspoken message. “He doesn’t think I should live alone. My nearest neighbor is almost two miles down the road. Though you wouldn’t think it the way Olivia knows all my business.”
“I’ll stay as long as you need me,” Talia said.
“Karl told me Monette has some plan to get out of prison. Something about being set up.”
“You concentrate on getting well. Besides, you’ve known Monette long enough to know how she is. More of the same drama.” Talia stood. “Want something to drink? I’m thirsty.”
“No, thanks. There are soft drinks in the fridge.”
Talia came back with a can of lemon-lime soda. She popped the top and took a sip. “I think maybe she has a chance. But you don’t need to get involved,” she added pointedly.
“I’d be glad to testify to her character. She’s made real changes, Talia. For one thing, she’s gone back to the church.”
“Monette will try anything if it means getting her rear end out of a tight spot.”
“She’s sincere this time. I can feel it,” Mama Rose said with a frown. “Shame on you for being so cynical about your mama.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Talia said after a few moments of thought.
Mama Rose sighed with contentment. “All in all things will work out. Thank you, baby, for coming home. You just don’t know how much you helped.”
“Nothing could have kept me away, Mama. You stuck with me when a lot of foster parents would have given up. Thank you,” she said softly.
Mama Rose held out both arms. Talia put down her soda and crossed to her. They hugged, and Talia rested her head on Mama Rose’s shoulder.
“You’re my baby girl no matter what. We always did have a connection, didn’t we?” Mama Rose murmured.
Talia breathed in the sweet scent of Cashmere Bouquet soap and cinnamon that always reminded her of Mama Rose’s love. “I love you, Mama Rose. Which is why I want to make sure this new boyfriend is straight,” she added teasingly.
“Speaking of affairs of the heart, let Derrick in. He’s the one, Talia.”
“I can’t stay here, Mama.” That was all Talia dared tell her.
“So stubborn. And what about Monette? Karl tells me you’re going to help her.”
“Karl talks way too much,” Talia retorted.
“I know how to pry information out of him. What is all this about you going up against the attorney general?”
“I’m helping Senator Jackson get mandatory-sentencing laws eased, and Barron’s against it. Monette’s case could be used as an example of good intentions leading to bad consequences.” Talia gave her the short version of the issue.
Sharp as ever, Mama Rose nodded her understanding. “I know. Much too harsh a response in 99 percent of the cases.”
“Right. Monette is no church lady; well, she wasn’t until now,” Talia added with a smile. “But forty years is excessive.”
“You and Derrick will help her.” Mama Rose pinched her cheek. “That kind of bond will spark a fire between you.”
“Mama Rose,” Talia scolded. “No matchmaking maneuvers.”
“Hmmm.” Mama Rose hummed a tune and went back to working on her cross-stitch.
“You’re a rascal, you know that?” Talia laughed and kissed her cheek. “I’d better go get some work done. Obviously, you don’t need me hanging around when Harold might show up.” She stood.
“Very amusing.” Mama Rose gave her a playful swat on the hip. “Don’t forget lunch tomorrow.”
“No way. I gotta check this dude out.” Talia waved good-bye and let herself out.
Talia headed for home. She had several reports she planned to send back to the office via e-mail attachment. The sight of Derrick’s SUV surprised her. He got out as she pulled into the driveway.
“Hi,” he said. His expression was serious behind the dark sunglasses. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Sure.” Talia didn’t look forward to it. Still she managed to smile at him. “How are you?”
“Okay,” he said shortly and followed her inside.
“Nice weather. I love this time of year.” Talia walked across the front porch and unlocked the front door.
“So much for small talk.” He drew her into his arms and kissed her.
Talia attempted to push him away at first. Yet the taste of him, hot and strong, flowed down her throat like fine Creole hot sauce. His hands roamed up and down her sides until they finally rested on her hips. Derrick pulled her tight against him as though to emphasize his need. She moaned low in her throat at the hardness through the fabric of his slacks.
“I want you now,” Derrick mumbled, his mouth still on hers.
“Hmmm,” Talia replied.
She could only babble when his hands roamed again, finding their way to her buttocks. In minutes they were undressing each other in a fever. They found their way to her bedroom. Without a word, she sank onto the bed and brought him down with her. They made love fast and furiously on the soft rose-colored comforter. Talia thrilled at the way the soft cover cushioned her as Derrick penetrated. Their thrusts were hard, quick, and pushed them both into trance, screaming for more. Nothing else mattered, only satisfying the wild hunger that dominated them. Derrick came first, with Talia tumbling into a powerful climax seconds later. The intense pleasure lasted forever, yet ended much too soon. His movements slowed until Derrick gasped and laid his head on her neck. Talia shuddered with one last jab of pleasure. She rubbed her lips on his forehead as she stroked his hair lovingly.
“What was all that about?” she whispered.
“I need you, Talia,” he replied simply.
His voice, full of emotion, shook her more than a long impassioned speech ever could. Her growing realization of how much she needed him te
rrified her. Need led to excruciating heartache, a hard lesson she’d learned early in life.
Talia stopped stroking his hair. “You know how much you mean to me.”
Derrick lay very still for ten seconds then lifted his head and stared into her eyes. “Do I? What do you want from me?”
His question wasn’t a demand. Rather, it seemed a plea to explain. Talia blinked back tears because she didn’t know the answer. Derrick sighed and rolled away. He lay with one arm across his eyes as he spoke.
“There’s no way to fix this, is there?” Derrick said.
“I don’t see how.” Talia bit her lip. “Maybe we could have a commuter love thing. Fly to each other on alternate weekends.” She tried for humor in the situation.
“You want the best of both worlds.”
Derrick stood and strode into her bathroom. Moments later she heard the shower. Talia got out of bed. She placed a clean fluffy towel inside on the vanity counter. Then went into the kitchen. Twenty minutes later Derrick came in fully dressed.
“I’m going back to the office.” He waved away her offer of a glass of lemonade.
“You’re mad at me again.” Talia sighed.
“I want more than you do. House, kids, toys all over my SUV, the works.” Derrick smoothed down his silk tie.”
“Honey, please—”
“I’m cool. I figured it out.”
His words went into her heart like a filet knife. “This place…” Her voice faded at the hard expression on his face.
“Don’t even try it, Talia. Settling down with a trophy husband is safer for you.” Derrick did not raise his voice as he spoke.
“So, you took Psychology 101, and you know it all,” she snapped.
“I know you, baby.” Derrick took a deep breath and let it out as he pulled a hand over his face. “Just forget it.”
“Jarrod and I aren’t picking out china patterns.” Talia laid her palm against his chest. “We only had dinner.”
“Yeah, and one day you’ll realize you can have that D.C. life with him,” he said.