by Tyora Moody
There was something about his face that struck some familiarity. I searched but couldn’t find any photos of the children’s father. Was the father even a part of their lives?
My daughter decided years ago she wanted nothing to do with Keisha’s dad. Her father and I were not happy about it, but we supported her. When she got pregnant again, I eventually met the dad. Leesa’s relationship with her son’s dad was a bit precarious, but I knew they worked at co-parenting these days. So it was strange to me, but not too strange, that there wasn’t any existence of a dad on the page. Maybe he just wasn’t around.
I looked at the clock on the wall above the television. Then glanced at the door. Amos had been gone awhile now. I wondered how things were going next door. Hopefully, he could get some answers from Briana. She ran out of here like someone had chased her out.
Correction. No, she ran out because Sondra Howell’s name had been mentioned. This reminded me why I was nosing around on these people’s Facebook pages in the first place. I really wanted to find a connection between Sondra and Briana.
I pulled up my stepdaughter’s page. Briana had a beautiful singing voice. She didn’t know, but I often went to her Facebook or Instagram page to listen to what she posted. She didn’t post every day, but at least once a week Briana shared her soul in a video with strangers. She’d spent so many years in California, hoping to pursue her dreams. I’d heard that Nashville and Atlanta were also major places for musicians and singers to pursue their craft. I knew Briana clashed with Amos when she was younger and took her mother’s death hard, but I always wondered why she didn’t pursue her career a bit closer to home. I assumed since her older sister had married and moved to Seattle that the West Coast made more sense to Briana.
But was that the only reason?
I scrolled down her Facebook page which was filled with videos she’d posted over the years. Some videos showed her singing on stages with a band while others showed her singing alone, possibly in her L.A. apartment. In recent videos, I recognized the living room in Amos’s old home. Briana was sitting on a stool with a guitar in her arms. She strummed the strings effortlessly, singing a song I wasn’t familiar with, but it sounded pleasant and soothing to the ears.
This was a talented young woman who most of the time seemed bent on self-destruction. Obviously, life didn’t go the way Briana had expected. I knew from her older sister that Briana had money issues since she constantly reached out to her sister for assistance. What still didn’t make sense to me was her abrupt move back to the East Coast. No doubt living rent free in her childhood home seemed like a good thing, but Briana needed to grow up some. She may be forced to after last night’s discovery.
I’d noticed there were some photos I hadn’t seen before on Briana’s page. I clicked the post to find a group of photos. In one of the photos Briana was smiling and Theo Nichols had his arm thrown around her neck. They definitely knew each other and seemed quite the couple. In another photo, Briana stood between both Theo and Damion. Glancing at the post, I realized these photos had to be taken this past weekend. This definitely proved both men were at the house.
I wanted to take a closer look at the other photos, but a noise pulled my attention away. I cocked my head, listening to the sound, finally recognizing the front door lock being turned. Amos had returned. By the look on his face when he entered the house, I knew things hadn’t gone well next door. I shut the laptop.
Amos plopped down in his chair and turned on the television. “Briana didn’t want to talk. She wants to put this all behind her.” He rubbed his hand across his bald head. “I told her if she’s holding back something, Detective Wilkes would find out. There’s nothing I can do if she doesn’t talk.”
By now I was bursting at the seams. Between my Facebook digging and the statement Amos made earlier in the kitchen, my inquiring mind had to know what was going on. “Amos, what did you mean earlier about not getting her out of trouble again? What kind of trouble was Briana in before that could come back to bite her?”
I knew he heard me, but for an awkward minute it seemed like he had no intentions of responding. I’d been around Amos long enough to know it took him a minute to think about what he wanted to say. Still, it irked me to have to wait.
A deep sigh rose up as if the memories pained him. “That Nichols boy was a bad influence on her.”
I guessed, “Theo?”
“Yes, there was some kind of party back during Briana’s senior year. A girl, someone Briana knew, was killed.”
I sucked in a breath, but held my tongue despite the rapid fire questions roaring through my mind.
Amos continued, “Briana and this girl didn’t get along. They even fought a few days before the girl’s death. Both girls had been suspended. I punished Briana, and she wasn’t allowed to leave the house except to go to school. I was on a case that night. It was a Friday and there’d been the usual football game. Briana was supposed to be in her bedroom, but she snuck out to see Theo after the game. You know he was a big time football player back then, a running back. He and Damion entertained people at his house all the time. Anyhow, I got a frantic call from Francine. She didn’t know where Briana was, only that she wasn’t in her bedroom. I left my partner to hold down the investigation while I searched for her.”
Amos rubbed his hands across his bald head. “I had a hunch and I was right. Sure enough, I found her at Theo’s house. Unfortunately, something had gone down before I arrived at the Nichols’ boys house. That girl Briana had the fight with … she’d been shot.”
My laptop was still in my lap, so I placed it on the couch beside me. Then, I scooted forward practically to the edge of the couch, “Oh no, Amos.”
“Briana claimed she was with Theo, and they both were somewhere else in the house.” He shook his head. “No telling what they were doing. I didn’t want to know. Really, I only wanted Briana to have a tight alibi, which she would have had if she’d stayed home like I told her.” Amos’s voice rose, the memory of what Briana had done still affected him.
“The girl who had been shot was outside with other kids, just shooting the breeze in front of the house. Witnesses claimed the bullets came flying from nowhere and everyone was ducking for cover. The final findings were the girl was shot by a stray bullet. No one knew or saw anything. All the kids outside were questioned, and somehow Briana’s name kept coming up.”
“Because of the fight a few days before? People wanted to blame her?”
He nodded, “Yeah. It helped that I was a homicide detective and everyone knew me. Knew us. They’d watched Briana growing up. She’d been a good kid. I don’t know what happened to her when she got with Theo. I know girls go crazy over guys, but he changed her. She would have never left the house like that. To this day I don’t know what the girls were really fighting about, but one of Briana’s teachers at the time seemed to think they were fighting over him.”
I cringed, “Fighting over a boy ain’t never did any girl or woman any good. So, do you think someone is going to dig this up? I mean Briana wasn’t officially charged with anything.”
Amos shook his head, “No, there’s no record. But people talked a long time, and people around here have long memories. I really think that’s why Briana took off after graduation. I wanted her to go to college, but she wanted to explore the world. She came back here when Francine got sick. Took care of her mother, she really did. She’s a good girl, now a woman. I don’t know what drives her to make the impulsive decisions that she does. She has done damage with that mouth of hers, but I know she wouldn’t … kill anyone.”
I felt a lump in my throat. Amos had been fighting doubts about his own child and I hurt for him. “You know your baby girl, Amos.” I asked, “What’s next?”
Amos stared at the television, but I’m sure he wasn’t seeing the screen. “I’m going to have to figure out what’s going on. Why was that woman at the house? Where was she really killed? Who had motive? I know how this works, Eugeena. I know
if I was Detective Wilkes I would be looking at all the obvious clues.”
I gazed at Amos’s profile, worried that he had to go through what seemed like a repeat of the past. A past that included Briana’s old flame and another dead female.
Chapter 9
Booming music met my ears when Amos drove into the Nichols Brothers Auto Shop parking lot on Wednesday morning. Outside of the shop were slick sports cars of various models that I wouldn’t know. A slim young, caramel-colored man splashed a soapy cloth across one bright red car with shiny silver rims. He glanced back as Amos parked his truck in one of the spaces outside the shop. When Amos climbed out the car, I observed him give a head nod to the young man, who grinned and returned one back.
So far, so good.
The male greeting between the two put me slightly at ease. The test would be when Amos ran into Theo. After hearing the story last night of Briana’s past dealings with Theo, I was anxious about our visit today. Before heading to bed last night, I did some searching. I felt like I remembered the death of a young girl who had been shot.
Yvette Hunt.
Her face nor her name registered with me. I wasn’t the only Social Studies teacher at Northwood Middle, so I assumed I’d never taught her. Unfortunately, Charleston had a high crime rate for as many years as I could remember. It was hard to keep up with every tragedy.
There were similarities surrounding her death and Sondra’s. One being the Nichols brothers, mainly Theo. Yvette Hunt had been shot almost ten years ago in front of Theo’s house, a guy that she liked enough to get into a fight with another girl. Was it really just a random shooting the way it was filed officially?
While Theo seemed to stay clean, I’d heard about Damion’s shady dealings over the years. He’d served some time for minor drug possessions and aggravated assault. He happened to be outside during the shooting. Since it was in front of their house, were the bullets meant for one of the brothers?
Despite Amos’s protests, I was determined to join him this morning. Sitting in a waiting room wasn’t my idea of fun but I had two valid reasons. One being to keep Amos out of any trouble and two, my curiosity needed to be satisfied. I hadn’t been around these two brothers in years. Last time I really saw them up close was their graduation almost a decade ago. I used to make an effort to see former students at their graduations, especially the ones that had difficulty in school. It was a huge milestone.
Theo’s high school career was beyond successful and he had attracted all kinds of attention. I’d heard through the grapevine, Theo had the best intentions of making it big with football, but his stint ended after college. Theo bounced back with opening his own business and eventually brought in his younger brother. The brothers seemed to run a successful business.
I followed Amos into the auto shop towards the counter. To my surprise one of the brothers was at the counter. His hair was slightly different, same close cut but the blond streaks were gone. His black t-shirt was rolled up displaying muscles.
Damion looked up as we approached, “Hey folks, what can I do for you today?”
I had to look up since the man towered over the counter. His smile was bright, but there seemed to be wariness in his eyes that didn’t match his smile. Either he was tired or this young man had grown accustomed to keeping some distance. I wondered if he recognized me.
Then it occurred to me. This man was hanging out at Briana’s a few days ago. He had to know Amos was Briana’s dad.
While I observed the man, Amos stated, “I’ve been interested in getting a paint job for my Chevy Silverado out there. Wonder if I could get an estimate?”
Damion shifted behind the counter like he was onto Amos’s ploy. He looked past us out the window. “Sure, we can do that. How’s the engine running? Do you need anything else done? Tires?”
“Nope, Old Betsy runs fine out there.”
Old Betsy. I sighed. It wasn’t until after we were married that I noticed Amos had names for objects. Why he named his truck Betsy, I didn’t know. One day I thought I heard him talking to the lawn mower, calling her Lucille. That was his favorite toy of them all. Our lawn always looked good though, so no complaining on my part.
“Is Theo in?” Amos asked.
I bristled next to him. Really, he was just going to walk in here and ask for Theo?
Damion frowned, “Not yet.” He looked at the clock, “He comes in a bit later in the morning.”
Amos peered down at his watch. “You know what, there’s a dent on the right side of the truck bed that I’ve been meaning to get looked at for a while now. Someone bumped into the truck while it was parked at Walmart a few months ago. Maybe you can look at that too. About how long will it take to give me an estimate for both?”
Damion nodded, “Not too long. Why don’t you have a seat and I will let you know when Theo arrives?”
As Amos and I walked over to the waiting area I could have sworn I felt the young man’s eyes on my back. When I turned around, another customer had arrived drawing his attention away.
I sat next to Amos and whispered, “I think he knows who you are.”
“Yeah, I know. Probably doesn’t like that I’m a former cop too.”
Made sense to me. The waiting room was a pretty nice setup with comfortable seats. Across was a counter filled with bottles of water, a basket of snacks, a coffee pot and condiments. I was eyeing the snacks when a young lady came around the corner holding a broom and dustpan.
She stopped abruptly in front of me as though I’d surprised her. The young woman stared at me, her eyes were accented with thick long black lashes. The lashes were so thick, it took me a moment to really see her eyes which were red around the rims. She wore burgundy tipped locs that were held up high over her head. I assumed she must work here since she wore a black t-shirt with the white lettering, Nichols Brothers Auto Shop.
I started to become unnerved by her stare and responded, “Good morning.”
She asked, her voice unsure, “Ms. Patterson?”
“Yes, I’m Ms. Patterson. Do I know you?”
She stepped forward, beaming at me as if I’d just presented her a winning prize. “I’m Charlene Hunt. You may not remember me, but I was in your class.”
It took me a few seconds to place her, but just like that I could picture her as she was at age thirteen. “Charlene, I do remember you. In fact you were friends with…”
That’s when it hit me. Her last name was Hunt. The girl who was killed years ago was Yvette Hunt.
Charlene’s face scrunched up as if she was about to do an ugly cry. Maybe that’s why her eyes appeared red. She’d been crying. Poor thing! Having to work and obviously upset.
She ventured closer to me, her voice much lower. “You heard about Sondra?”
I glanced over at Amos, who had been looking down at his phone. He shot me a look and then peered down at the phone again.
Okay, I guess this was on me.
“Yes, I heard. I talked to her mother yesterday at church. She told me Sondra had been missing. Last time she saw her was Saturday night. She’d left the house to hang out with some friends.”
Charlene’s eyes grew wide and she gulped, “Yeah, Sondra started working at the Black Diamond. We were just together on Saturday. It’s been a long time since we hung out.”
“Oh, if I remember, you two were BFFs in middle school.”
She cringed, “We hung out, but we kind of grew apart after high school. I mean we stayed in touch, but she did her thing and I did mine.”
I wondered if their split had anything to do with Yvette Hunt. There wasn’t a smooth or easy way to broach the subject. Sondra was the reason for this woman’s angst. Focusing back on the manner at hand, I exclaimed, “I’m so sorry for your loss. I just can’t imagine who would do such a thing to Sondra.”
“Yeah, me neither.” Charlene answered weakly.
I wanted to press Charlene more about what happened on Saturday, but was interrupted. Damion opened a side door that le
d out to the waiting room. At some point he’d left from behind the counter. “Hey, Mr. Jones, Theo just arrived in the back. He will check your truck out in a bit and give you an estimate.”
Damion turned his attention towards Charlene. He frowned at her. “You finished in the back?”
A slight smile spread across Charlene’s somber face. “Hey, Damion, you remember Ms. Patterson from Northwood Middle?”
The young man slowly tore his eyes from Charlene to look at me like he’d just noticed the little old woman who came in with the old dude. He stepped back and placed his hand over his mouth, “Yeah, I remember you.” He pointed at me, “South Carolina history. Man, your class was cool!”
“Really?” I don’t recall anyone describing me as cool.
“Yeah, I learned a lot in your class. You taught us the book stuff, but you would also pass on interesting tidbits that weren’t in the books too. Like I remembered how you talked about Robert Smalls and the role he played in the Civil War. I thought that was cool for a Black man to be seen as a hero back then.”
I placed my hand on my chest, hoping I wouldn’t burst out crying. “Why I’m touched that you remember that. He was a very special man in South Carolina history. Not everyone enjoys history, but you have to know your past to know where you’re going.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Damion frowned and cocked his head as if something caught his attention. “Excuse me for a second.” He turned suddenly and strolled toward the front store window.
Charlene must have heard whatever had caught Damion’s attention. She leaned the broom she’d been holding against the wall and walked up beside him. She squeaked, “Oh no, what’s she doing here?”
With that, I was up out of my seat, peeking around to see what was going on. When I saw who it was, panic struck me. “Amos, you may want to see this.”