Deadly Satisfaction

by Trice Hickman

  Geneva shook her head as she replayed the dream in her mind. She’d been inside the home that she and Johnny used to share when they’d been married. It was early fall, and there was a crisp chill throughout the house because Johnny had always preferred cooler temperatures. Geneva was sitting on the opposite end of the couch from Johnny, staring at him as he turned a glass up to his lips. She was literally a fly on the wall, observing everything he was doing.

  The house was a bit untidy, which was unusual because Johnny had been a neat freak. He loved a clean house with everything in its proper place. Geneva watched as Johnny took a slice of pepperoni pizza from the Pizza Hut box on the coffee table in front of him, and washed it down with a glass of what she knew was rum and Coke, which had been his longtime favorite drink. She knew this was one of several glasses he’d already consumed because he was drunk, and he reeked of alcohol so badly that she could smell him from where she was sitting.

  She knew Johnny well, and he was a man who knew how to hold his liquor, so for him to be this drunk, she knew he’d probably been drinking all day.

  She watched as Johnny took a small bite of his pizza slice, then put it back into the box without finishing it. He lifted his glass again and swallowed until it was empty. Geneva had no interest in watching her ex-husband drink all night, but what he did next made her sit up and pay attention. He put down his glass and picked up a small blue box. It struck her because the box was decorative, like the ones on display in arts and craft stores, used for keepsakes or supplies. Geneva had never seen the box while she’d been living with him, and she assumed that it must have belonged to some woman Johnny had been seeing after she’d moved out and asked him for a divorce. Geneva watched as he opened the lid of the box and started taking out what appeared to be photos. He shook his head as he looked at each one of them. Then he picked up a DVD sleeve that looked to have at least four or five discs inside. She tried to rise from her place on the couch to get a better look, but she was stuck, as if sitting in cement. She tried to move again, but she still couldn’t budge from where she sat.

  Geneva knew that whatever Johnny was looking at, it wasn’t good. He shook his head again, looking visibly disturbed by what he saw as he held the photos and DVDs in his hands. He took a deep breath and lowered his head. “How could I have done something like this? What the hell was wrong with me?” He put the pictures and DVDs back in the box and then reached inside and picked up a small black phone. Geneva knew right away that it was a burner phone. She watched as he scrolled through the screen, and whatever he was looking at made him frown and shake his head even more before putting the phone back inside. He took another deep breath and then set the box on the floor. He leaned forward, picked up his glass, and drank the rest of its contents.

  “I’m truly sorry, Geneva, and I hope one day you can forgive me,” Johnny said, letting out a deep breath.

  Geneva’s heart beat fast when she heard him say her name. Now she really wanted to inspect the box, but she still couldn’t move. She concentrated with all her might, but she couldn’t even wiggle her toe, let alone move her legs to stand.

  “I fucked up a good marriage to a good woman,” Johnny continued, slurring his words as he spoke. “I have to give it to Bernard, he tried to warn me, but I wouldn’t listen.”

  Geneva’s heart sank when she thought about Bernard Seymore, who’d been Johnny’s best friend. Bernard had been a playboy, just like Johnny, but once his wife of eleven years left him, his entire world changed. He’d plunged into depression mixed with heavy drinking, and it wasn’t until he’d started therapy that he rose out of the darkness. He’d reformed his old ways, met a wonderful woman named Candace, whom he’d become engaged to, and had gotten a promotion on his job. But Johnny didn’t liked the changes Bernard had made, because Bernard no longer hung out late or chased women with him like they used to. Plus, Johnny despised Candace and held her responsible for what he’d said had become Bernard’s wimpy ways.

  Bernard and Johnny’s relationship continued to disintegrate, and ended in an all-out brawl that resulted in bruises and broken bones, but what had made their fight so bad was that it had taken place in Bernard’s office at work. Bernard had been fired, and couldn’t find another job. His truck was repossessed, his electricity was turned off, his house went into foreclosure, and his spirit was broken. He’d started drinking heavily again, and when Candace came over and caught him passed out naked beside another woman, she’d called off the engagement and left the ring he’d given her on his coffee table on her way out.

  Bernard had been one of the prime suspects in Johnny’s murder, especially because he didn’t have much of an alibi, other than his word that he’d been at his house drinking the night Johnny had been murdered. Two months into the investigation, Bernard couldn’t take the questions and scrutiny any longer, so he ended it all by putting a gun in his mouth to silence the world.

  “Poor, poor Bernard,” Geneva whispered. She was drawn from her thoughts when she heard Johnny’s voice again.

  “This is what it feels like to be shit on,” he sighed and moved toward the edge of his seat on the couch. “I guess I’m getting my payback.”

  A bad feeling gathered in the pit of Geneva’s stomach because she knew what was going to happen next. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she was certain that Johnny was getting ready to be murdered. “Dear Lord, this is the night Johnny was killed,” she said with a chill in her voice.

  Geneva’s eyes followed Johnny as he picked up the blue box and walked into the kitchen. She looked down at her feet, willing them to move, but she stayed planted where she was. She heard ice cubes clank against glass, and knew that Johnny was pouring himself another drink.

  “Ahhh, that’s what I needed,” she heard him say.

  Suddenly, there was a knock on the kitchen door. “Oh no!” Geneva said in horror. “She’s coming to kill him.”

  Geneva was surprised that Vivana’s knock wasn’t more forceful because her nature was loud and rough. But Geneva realized that killers didn’t want to bring attention to themselves. She thought if she could rush into the kitchen, she might be able to stop Vivana. But she still couldn’t move. Then she tried to yell so she could warn Johnny, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. So she sat as still as she could and listened carefully.

  “What’re you doing here?” she heard Johnny ask.

  Geneva’s breathing became shallow and her heart raced fast. She continued to listen, but she didn’t hear an answer. A minute went by before Geneva barely heard the faint sound that she’d known was coming. When the single gunshot rang out, she’d expected it to be louder, but then she remembered that the detectives had said that the killer had used a silencer to muffle the sound. She heard Johnny fall to the floor with a hard thud. His groans and gurgling coughs told her that he was in great pain.

  Several minutes went by, which felt like hours, and Geneva became sick to her stomach with the thought of what had just happened. Then she heard Vivana talk so delicately that it didn’t even sound like the crazy woman’s voice. Geneva no longer wanted to move her legs because she didn’t think she could bear the sight. But now, as if by command, her legs moved, and she rose from the couch involuntarily. She didn’t want to see Johnny dying on the floor, or the deranged look Vivana probably had on her face at the pleasure of killing him.

  Geneva closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to witness the gruesome scene, but just as she hadn’t been able to will her legs to move on her own, she was unable to block out her sight, and she could still see what was happening through her closed lids. She drew in a deep breath as she looked down at the man she’d once been married to and had loved, sprawled out between the refrigerator and the cabinet, lying in his own blood. But as Geneva looked closer, she nearly lost her balance when she saw that Johnny’s killer wasn’t Vivana.

  The killer was a female, for sure, but Geneva couldn’t make out who she was. The woman was cloaked in shadow as she loomed o
ver Johnny’s body. She stood there for a moment, as if she was savoring his death. Then she kicked him in the side and walked out the door as casually as if she was taking a midafternoon stroll.

  The whistling sound of the teakettle brought Geneva back to the waking present. She shivered at the thought of what she’d seen in her dream, and again, she couldn’t shake the feeling that it seemed to be more than a dream; it seemed so real.

  “I’d better turn off the kettle before it wakes everyone up.” She hopped off the bar stool, went over to the stove, and poured her tea. She sipped slowly, listening to the peaceful silence in the house. While everyone was asleep, she was wide awake, filled with questions. She looked at the clock on the stove and realized that she’d never heard back from Donetta after they’d talked earlier that evening. Geneva reached for her phone and dialed her friend’s number.

  “Hey, girl,” Donetta answered on the first ring.

  “I thought you were going to call me when you got home.” Geneva could hear noise in the background, and it sounded like Donetta was outside. “Where are you?”

  “In my car, headed downtown.”

  Geneva stopped sipping her tea. “The last time I talked to you, some guy was stalking you in the grocery store, and now you’re headed downtown . . . What’s going on?”

  “Sorry I didn’t call you back. Everything’s been happening so fast.”

  “Everything like what?”

  “Well, for starters, that fine-ass man wasn’t stalking me. He’s a really nice guy, and—”

  “Donetta, please tell me you’re joking. I know you’re not on your way downtown to see him.”

  Donetta let out a deep breath. “Just listen, okay?”

  “Okay . . . I’m listening.” Geneva shook her head and took a sip of tea to calm herself.

  “We talked in the store for like, thirty minutes,” Donetta said in an excited voice. “He was at Sebastian’s picking up food for him and his mother, and then he went to the grocery store to get items from her shopping list. He looked like a deer in the headlights, because he didn’t know where the hell anything was, so you know me . . .”

  “You laughed at him?”

  “Very funny . . . but no, I helped him find everything on his list.”

  “Wasn’t that kind of you,” Geneva said with a little sarcasm.

  “Yes, it was,” Donetta said as they both laughed. “Then I gave him my number. Girl, that brother didn’t waste any time. He called me and asked if I’d meet him at the Roosevelt Hotel for drinks. So here I am, all dressed up, trying to find a parking space downtown.”

  “I’m in shock,” Geneva said. Her conversation with Donetta felt like a dream, too, so she banged her foot against the bottom of the bar stool she was sitting on to make sure she was awake. “Ouch.”

  “What’s wrong?” Donetta asked.

  “After what you just said I had to kick something to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.”

  Donetta laughed. “You’re a regular comedian tonight. But I can’t say that I blame you for thinking that because this is completely out of character for me. You know my ass is as cynical as they come. But girl, trust me when I say that this man is different.”

  Geneva knew that Donetta was jaded about most things, and she didn’t trust anyone with a penis. She knew that her friend had been hurt in nearly every relationship she’d been involved in, and she’d become tough over the years to stave off disappointment. Geneva had thought that once Donetta completed her surgery last year, she’d feel more comfortable in her skin, and she’d have more success in her relationships, but it had been just the opposite. Donetta had dated more when she’d been transitioning than after she’d completed her transformation.

  Geneva was happy to hear that Donetta was finally going on a date, but she was surprised at her friend’s sudden change of heart. Earlier today Donetta had proclaimed that she refused to spend the holiday with her relatives, and now she was going out to meet a perfect stranger, late at night. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend? Her name is Donetta Pierce, and if you see her please tell her to call me,” Geneva teased. “Because I know the person I’m talking to on the other end of this phone isn’t her.”

  Donetta laughed again. “I know, right? I can’t believe it either. But remember earlier today when you asked me where my optimism was? If this doesn’t show I’m trying to find it, nothing will.”

  “Wow! Okay, that’s a major turnaround.”

  Donetta chuckled. “You should know by now that I don’t take baby steps into anything. Once I decide on something, I’m all in.”

  Geneva had to agree. Donetta was an all-or-nothing kind of person, and for her to change her mind this quickly, Geneva knew the man she’d met must be special. “So, does this fine-ass man have a name?” Geneva asked.

  “Yes, his name is Phillip! He’s smart, and sexy, and taller than me, thank You, Jesus!”

  “Donetta, I know you’re excited, but please, please be careful. He may have seemed nice on first blush, but he could be crazy for all you know.”

  “No crazier than I am.”

  Geneva nodded her head, knowing her friend had just made a valid point. Donetta wasn’t straitjacket crazy, but she could be a handful, and some of the situations she’d found herself in over the years were worthy of reality TV. “You know what I mean. Crazy, as in you could end up in his freezer.”

  “Stop it,” Donetta said playfully. “You know I can handle myself. But wait a minute, what the hell are you doing up this late? Are you all right?”

  Geneva finished the last sip of her tea. “I had a bad dream, so I’m sipping tea to calm my nerves.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, sweetie. You want to talk about it?”

  This was one of the reasons why Geneva loved Donetta as if they were sisters. Donetta’s offer to listen wasn’t just a polite gesture; she really meant it. She was the type of friend who took her relationships seriously, and despite the fact that a handsome man was waiting to buy her drinks at the most exclusive hotel in downtown, she was ready to put him on pause if she felt Geneva needed her. “No, I’m okay. I’ll tell you about it later. Go ahead and meet that handsome man and have a good time.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes, I’m certain. And listen, call me in the morning and let me know how things go. Don’t forget, because if I don’t hear from you by eight o’clock, I’m going to start blowin’ up your phone.”

  “Okay, I’ll call you. Now go to bed and get some rest.”

  Geneva hung up and prayed that Donetta would be all right. She washed out her cup, walked upstairs, and got back into bed. She snuggled next to Samuel and prayed for an answer to the mystery that she thought had been solved two years ago—who really killed Johnny?

  Chapter 11

  CHARLENE

  It took Charlene a few minutes to figure out which room she was in when she opened her eyes. She slowly sat up on the couch before putting her feet to the floor in an effort to steady herself. Even though the room was dimly light from the elegant, flush-mount chandelier hanging above, she squinted as if she was sitting under a spotlight because her head felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. “What time is it?” She fumbled for her cell phone sitting on the ottoman in front of her and looked at the time. “I can’t believe it’s one o’clock in the morning.” She blinked several times to focus her eyes, but all it did was make her head throb even more.

  Charlene’s stressful day, accompanied by a night of heavy drinking, had left her feeling listless. She strained her eyes when she saw a note lying beside the empty bottle of wine she’d drained. When she bent forward to pick it up, the room began to spin, so she leaned back into the soft pillows until she could gain her bearings. She looked to her left and saw a glass of water on the end table. She could tell it had been sitting there for a while because of the beads of condensation covering the glass and the half-melted ice cubes floating at the top. “Where did this water come from?” s
he mumbled. For the life of her, she didn’t remember putting it there. Charlene licked her dry lips and swallowed the bad taste resting on her tongue. She was so parched at the moment that it didn’t matter to her if the devil himself had put the glass there and had laced it with poison; she was thirsty, and she was going to drink it.

  Slowly, Charlene reached for the water and held it tightly. When she brought the cool liquid to her lips, she gulped the entire glass down as if she hadn’t had anything to drink in days. “Aaaaahh,” she said. She set the empty glass back on the end table and looked at the note again. This time when she bent forward, she moved slower and stretched her arms. She picked up the piece of paper and saw that it was a handwritten note from Phillip.

  Mom,

  You were asleep when I came home with the food. Drink all the water in the glass, that should help with the headache you’re going to have. If you get hungry, your food is in the fridge, but don’t microwave it because it’s better warmed in the oven. I’m meeting up with a friend for drinks. Don’t wait up.

  Love,

  Phillip

  The thought of Phillip finding her drunk and passed out on the couch made Charlene feel slightly embarrassed. But she knew, being the kind of person he was, he wouldn’t judge her, or even be disappointed in her for having a very human moment. In fact, knowing her son the way she did, she knew he’d probably been worried about her, wondering what terrible thing had happened to cause her to get wasted.

  “If he only knew,” Charlene said to herself. But then again, she was glad he didn’t know the details of what had caused her current state. She’d always tried to protect her children from hurt, and even though Phillip was now a strong, confident man, deep down he was a sensitive soul with a big heart. As a young boy he’d been polite, thoughtful, and kind, and again, she couldn’t help but think about what a good husband he was going to make some woman one day—that is, if he could find it in his DNA to settle down. He was, after all, his father’s child, and he loved the ladies.