The Black Coats

by Colleen Oakes

  Casey nodded. “It was so easy. His password was one-two-three exclamation point. Now all that will be on there will be the loop from this morning.”

  “He’s expecting us, remember?” Thea ignored the pounding of her heart.

  “Right.”

  “Let’s take off our coats.” As Thea’s slipped off her shoulders, she felt naked and exposed. Without her realizing it, her black coat had become her armor.

  “But . . . ,” protested Louise.

  Mirabelle shook her head. “No house cleaners wear coats like this.”

  In their black shirts and leggings, all it took was a few name tags to make them look like an expensive team of maids. Casey grabbed a mop from the trunk, handing a broom and a bucket of chemicals to Bea. Mirabelle and Louise each carried buckets, though inside theirs was a lot more than cleaning supplies. Thea stuffed their coats into a large empty bucket and covered it with a rag. She looked up at the house for a moment while ignoring the doubt that was raging through her mind. She was a black girl about to assault a white man in Texas, and the consequences if they got caught would most likely not be doled out in equal measure. Thea took a deep breath, focusing on the job ahead; she was the team leader and needed to act like one. This was not a time for fear, no matter how justified.

  “Thirty minutes, in and out.” She glanced over at Nixon’s car, parked beside the house. “We’ll be fine. We’re not alone.”

  The team made their way up to the doorway. “Slouched posture!” Thea hissed at Mirabelle, who walked everywhere like she was on a catwalk. “Don’t look so haughty!”

  Team Banner sagged. “Does everyone have their gloves on?” Thea asked. They nodded, and Thea knocked on the gigantic wooden door. They waited a few moments, and Thea shrugged and knocked again. The door was yanked open violently.

  “Jesus, I’m here!” Raphael Amadoor stood before them with round glasses perched on the end of his nose and a bushy black beard. His short, stocky build reminded Thea of a bulldog, as did his face. He looked the girls over. “Come in. I have guests arriving in an hour, so you better work fast.”

  They stepped inside. As Thea reached back to close the door, she took one last glance at Nixon’s car, which unexpectedly sped down the driveway and disappeared into a cloud of dirt. Her hand tightened on the doorknob: they were alone. She turned to her team, each girl eyeing her. She would not tell them, not now.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Casey.

  Thea plastered a fake smile onto her face. “Nothing!”

  “Enough chatting!” snapped Raphael Amadoor coldly. “I’m not paying you girls to talk. The party will be just through here.”

  They followed him down a set of wooden stairs into the loveliest room Thea had ever seen. It was designed with four open doors, where billowy white curtains led out to an enormous patio. Through the doors, tiny flecks of sunlight danced on his teal pool as olive trees shook in the wind. The garden was walled on every side. “Your house is beautiful,” muttered Thea, not having to pretend to look impressed.

  Raphael’s eyes moved uncomfortably over her. “I know that, girl. I got this land for a steal about ten years ago. Good investments, knowing the right people, a little bit of naughtiness . . .” He winked at Mirabelle. “You look like you know a little something about that.”

  Gross, thought Thea.

  “We’re in high school,” whispered Bea.

  Raphael licked his lips and held up his hands. “Hey! I didn’t say anything improper. I’m just a friendly guy having a party. But if you all feel like staying around afterward, I know that my soon-to-be ex left some very pretty dresses upstairs. I’ll show you girls a really good time, and what’s more, I’ll pay you for it—much more than Shiny House Cleaners pays you.”

  He took a step down into the living room. Mirabelle stepped forward, seductively biting her fingernail. “Maybe you could give me a private tour? I would love to see the bedrooms. Unless anyone else is here? I just want to make sure . . . I’m kind of shy.”

  Raphael’s eyes lit up like he couldn’t believe his luck. Thea felt anger rising inside her, and she could see it in her team as well—the way Louise stiffened, the way Casey’s eyes simmered. “Well, I would be honored, Miss— What’s your name? You know what? It doesn’t matter.”

  Mirabelle reached out her rubber-gloved hand. “Shall we go?”

  Raphael turned away from the girls, with his focus on his young conquest, and that was all the distraction they needed. Thea nodded once and then watched in silence as Louise pulled the head off the broom, twirled the stick once, and brought it crashing down against Raphael’s turned head in one swift movement. He slumped to the ground. The very stones beneath Thea’s feet seemed to shake as she looked down at this man, realizing that Team Banner had crossed an invisible line. There was no turning back from here, not from this. A small splatter of red blood was leaking from his temple onto the floor. The Code Evening had begun.

  Thea checked his pulse. “Okay, he’s down. Now, let’s get ready for the party.” Thea grabbed his legs as Mirabelle and Louise dragged him by his arms over to an expensive chaise longue and propped him up against the back, his body slumping forward like a rag doll.

  Casey popped out the bottom of the Shiny House Cleaners bucket and pulled out a roll of duct tape, wrapping it around him and the chair several times. She then checked his breathing. “We’re still good. Go.”

  The team went to work after slipping their coats back on. From their tubs of chemicals, they pulled out folded posters of the faces of Amadoor’s victims: his wife, his daughter, and the women from the hotel. Giant photographs of eyes swollen with blood, of lips gashed, of hair that had been ripped out, X-rays of broken ribs—every single one went up on the wall. The luminaries, as always, had done their prep work perfectly. The names of the officers who had let him off with warning after warning were spray-painted across his priceless pieces of art in huge black letters: Officer Ramses, Shame on You. Officer Lee, You Were Supposed to Protect. They hung up posters everywhere: his foyer, the living room, the patio, and one right above his bed. Thea made sure another photo was pushed deep into his one-thousand-thread-count sheets. As she rolled out photo after terrible photo, the Balancing sheet popped up in her mind: Make sure he never hurts anyone again.

  As they worked, Casey was on her custom Black Coats laptop, uploading the lists of his crimes and the pictures of his victims to all his social media sites, including his business website. Thea was spray-painting a list of his assaults onto his patio glass when she heard Louise give a shout: “He’s waking up!”

  Thea ran back into the living room, where Team Banner circled around Raphael, each staring down at him in pure hatred.

  Mirabelle grinned when he opened his eyes. “Good afternoon, Mr. Amadoor.”

  Sixteen

  Raphael looked down at his restraints. “What the hell is this? Untie me this instant!”

  “Yeah, I don’t think so,” said Thea menacingly. “We are here to make sure that you are unable to hurt women ever again. That’s what pathetic men like you do, you see? They use their money or their strength to exploit those who they should protect. Neither your money nor your power is here to protect you now.” She leaned forward. “And we do not bend.”

  She nodded and stepped back but was still surprised when Louise flew forward to punch him hard across the face. Thea jumped, hearing the crack of Louise’s knuckles connect with his cheekbone, feeling deep inside her chest the snap of Amadoor’s neck as it bounced off the back of the chair. Oh. My. God.

  “You . . .” He blinked in shock.

  “Whatever you are about to call us, we’ve heard it before,” snapped Casey. “It’s amazing how powerless those words become when you decide they have no power over you.”

  Amadoor was looking around the room now, the beginnings of panicked fear showing on his face. “Are you here to kill me?”

  Thea waited a few seconds longer than she needed to before answering. “No. Not tod
ay. But your reign of terror over women you claim to love is coming to an end.”

  Raphael spat blood onto the floor. “They deserved every bit of it.”

  Thea went to open her mouth but was suddenly shoved violently aside by Louise. “Move.” Thea looked over at her, surprised at the animal fury plastered across Louise’s normally cheery face.

  “Louise?” she whispered, not recognizing the person before her.

  With a snarl, Louise leaped onto the chair, planting her heeled boot on Raphael’s chest before letting her momentum push the chair backward. It hit the marble floor with a violent crack, shards of wood spinning away from them. Louise snarled in his face, the sharp point of her boot pressing deep into Raphael’s chest. He yelped in pain as she twisted her foot back and forth. She brought her hand across his face again with a quick slap and then squeezed his chin with one hand, bringing her face down toward his own, angry words tumbling from her mouth.

  “I know men like you, Raphael. I’ve known them all my life: my father and his brothers, all cruel men like you. Do you know what I remember from my childhood?”

  Raphael’s lip quivered. “Are you going to kill me?”

  Louise ignored him. No one breathed as she continued. “I remember hiding in our hall closet, pressed up against one of my mother’s furs, stuffing it deeper and deeper into my mouth to keep from screaming as my father hit her again and again and again.” A hot tear dripped down her face. “Did you know, Raphael, that when I get a fever, I still taste those furs, that horrible mix of smoke and animal on my tongue?” She bit back a sob before boxing his ears with both fists. Raphael cried out, and something uncomfortable twisted inside of Thea. “My father stole my childhood, and the childhood of all my siblings, just so he could feel bigger about himself, feel like a man. I will always be broken because of what he did. I will never be able to love normally because of what he did.” She took a jagged breath that tore at Thea’s heart. “Just like you, he always had an excuse for it. Said we deserved it. Then one glorious day, they found his body under a highway bridge, because he messed with the wrong person.” A smile crossed her face beneath her dripping tears. “Do you know what we did that night we got the news that my father had died?”

  Tears were streaming down Raphael’s cheeks as he stared into Louise’s twisted face, his eyes unblinking and terrified.

  “We ordered pizza.” Louise leaned back. Her anger was so potent, Thea felt it washing over the team. Thea met Casey’s gaze. She gave a slow nod to Casey, acknowledging that she would step in if she needed to. Raphael was muttering some prayer, his sloppy sobs filling the room. Louise looked disgusted. “Don’t you dare cry in front of me. I’m not the one who deserves to see your tears.” With that, she brought her elbow down hard across the bridge of his nose. A loud crack resonated across his defaced living room.

  Thea leaned forward. “Calm down.” Her stomach turned uncomfortably for a reason she couldn’t understand. Wasn’t this what they had prepared for?

  Mirabelle gently pulled Louise back, but not before Louise grabbed Raphael’s face and turned it to the side, the blood from his nose pouring out onto his expensive rug. “Look at those pictures.” Raphael let out a cry as she forced his eyes open. “Look at what you did to the women you swore to love.”

  He was screaming now, his eyes closed. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! You’re right! I didn’t mean to hurt them, but I did. They left me because I deserved it!”

  Louise’s hands were lingering over his neck now, tracing over the jugular. “You deserve to die, you know.”

  Raphael let out a wail, his tears mixing with blood and snot as they poured down his face, his mouth distorted, his pathetic howls reminding Thea of a wounded animal. “I’ll do better; I swear that I will.”

  Louise was gritting her teeth now, her body coiled and ready to strike. Thea put her hand on Louise’s shoulder.

  “Enough.” Louise could break his neck if she wanted to. “I said, that’s enough,” she whispered, turning Louise to face her. “He deserves it. But it’s not ours to give.”

  Raphael let out a moan. “Oh, thank you, God! Please have mercy on me.”

  With a cry of surrender, Louise let Thea turn her away. Casey had stepped toward Raphael when they heard a loud thud from upstairs. Team Banner went silent. Terror shot through Thea. “I thought you said no one was home!” hissed Mirabelle.

  Raphael leaned his head back and laughed, his lips curling to reveal his bloodstained teeth. “They’ll save me, I’m sure of it!” He laughed some more, his mind lost to fear.

  Thea looked up the stairs, her eyes searching for a shadow, for movement. There was nothing. She motioned silently to Casey. “Come up with me. You guys, stay on him.” She pointed to Bea. “It’s time to make sure that he never does this again. You’re up.” Thea stepped onto the first stair, the antique wood creaking under her feet as they circled up the staircase.

  “What do you think it is?” At Casey’s voice, the sound stopping suddenly. Someone was inside.

  With Casey following close behind her, Thea ran up the stairs and burst into the hallway. She began kicking open every door, with nothing in her hands to defend herself. After seeing a few over-the-top bathrooms, Thea stepped back into the hallway when she heard the sound again—a hollow thump, like someone dragging something. Thea froze, her eyes on the door at the end of the hallway. Behind her, Casey slipped on her brass knuckles. “No,” Thea ordered. “Put those away! We are here only for him. He is the only one who pays today.”

  “Arggh!” Casey muttered, slipping the knuckles back into her pocket.

  Thea paused outside the door with her heart thudding in her ears, her hand hovering over a blown-glass doorknob. Nixon’s voice played in her head: Indecision is not your friend. Pausing can mean losing control. Thea took a deep breath and slammed her foot hard against the door. It flew violently open, scaring the daylights out of two fat black cats that were seated just inside the door.

  On the floor, an unfazed orange tabby paused from batting a hanging rubber ball against the wall. She looked at Thea with annoyance before returning to her ball. Thump. Thump. One of the black cats darted down the hall while the other turned and hissed at Thea. She hissed back before stepping through the door. Casey gave a hearty laugh. “He has a room just for his cats. Unbelievable. Beats his daughter, spoils the kitties.”

  Thea had opened her mouth to reply when a huge crash from downstairs interrupted her thoughts. Everything after that happened so fast. There was the sound of glass breaking and a hard thud, followed by Bea screaming, “No, no, no . . .”

  There were the sounds of chaos and then Mirabelle’s loud voice, rising over the commotion, screaming her name. “Thea! Oh my God, Thea!” Then words that cut through her like a knife: “He’s running!”

  Bea’s voice: “He’s outside!” Thea ran forward into the cat room, shoving aside an overstuffed sofa to look out the south-facing window. From there the tiled roof slanted downward and ended near the pool. Directly below her, Thea saw a flash of movement: Raphael. He was bolting away from the house in a white shirt spotted with blood. His movements were frantic and desperate.

  Before Thea said a word, Casey was already at her side and ready to provide a boost. Without a second thought, Thea stepped onto Casey’s palm and was promptly heaved up and over the ledge, her body tumbling out the window. Thea shoved her feet out in front of her and then she was sliding down on her bottom, her body flying over terra-cotta tiles, which broke under her weight, shards of red clay slicing through her black leggings. A stream of pebbled tiles went before her, plunging off the edge of the roof as Thea tried to find a way to slow her momentum. She was going to fall, but it wasn’t far, and she didn’t even have time to take a breath before she was on the edge of the roof. Using the training that Sahil had taught her, Thea leaned forward and the moment her toes hit the ledge she leaped, using her speed to twist her body in midair, giving herself the pause and the control that she needed. A s
econd later, Thea landed hard on her feet and then on her knees, and the impact of the pavement ricocheted up her legs. Pain sliced through her like a hot wave through her hips, her ribs, and finally her teeth, which ground together with a painful crack. Then it was gone. Thea gave herself a shake. She was okay, and Raphael was ahead of her now, running toward the latched gate at the end of the pool. Thea let a nasty smile curl across her face as she crouched down. Fear had made him fast. She was faster.

  She shot forward like an animal released from a cage, her feet flying underneath her, her coat flapping as she pounded past the pool, gaining on him easily. Raphael was crying, his hysterical sobs rising as she gained speed, until she felt the ground disappear underneath her feet. The chase intoxicated her. Come closer, she thought, I’ve got you. Compared to Sahil, Raphael was practically a snail. The gap between them was closing.

  Jagged breaths tore at her rib cage as the pool chairs passed by in a blur. Closer. Her legs were cycling in a fury, no rhythm, just speed, everything in her pushing faster. Raphael was almost at the end of the property now. His shaking hands had just reached out for the latch when Thea snarled in his ear. He turned just a moment too late, and it was all she needed. Her speed propelled them forward into the stone gate. Thea put out her hand and twisted them both sideways, protecting them from the impact of the stone. Using that same momentum, Thea grabbed his collar and spun her body, flinging him backward, her power lifting him off his feet. He flew into the pool with a guttural scream as she roared in return. The water around him turned crimson as the blood from his nose and chest seeped into the pool. Raphael waved his hands once above the surface before he sank underneath the water, his head disappearing in a cloud of red. Thea leaped in after him feetfirst, her body plummeting into the deep end.

  After the initial shock of the cold water, she kicked her legs and swam toward him as he flailed below the surface. A small pocketknife in his hand waved around desperately. Thea paused underwater, watching the cruel irony of the situation unfold. Raphael Amadoor, a man who had hurt God knew how many women in his lifetime, now needed one to save his life. His pleading eyes were on her now, his body jerking in fear, his mouth open and swallowing water. She could leave him there, watch him sink ever lower, drowning in the weight of his many sins. But I won’t.