Vexed

by Honey

  * * *

  “It’s time to go to court, Ms. King.” An overweight female deputy unlocked the cell. She pulled Jay’s arms behind her back to secure her wrists with handcuffs. “Are you ready?”

  “I guess so, ma’am. I wish I didn’t have to wear this ugly orange jumpsuit, though.”

  “It’s standard, honey. If your family wants to, they could always bring you a nice Sunday dress or a business suit for your court appearances. Ask them whenever they come for a visit. Let’s go now.”

  “You think the judge will set bond for me today?”

  “I’m not so sure,” the woman said, leading Jay down the corridor. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  Chapter Forty-two

  “Thanks for the information, Reverend King. I’m sure some of it will be helpful in establishing a solid defense for your daughter.” Mr. Rice reached out his hand to end their impromptu meeting. He looked up the courthouse corridor just as Jay was being escorted toward the holding area. “Look, Reverend. Here comes Jayla now. I could arrange a brief meeting with the three of us before the hearing if you’d like.”

  Wishing to avoid an explosive confrontation with his daughter, Wallace blew Mr. Rice’s suggestion off. “I’m sure she’s nervous right now. Maybe it’s best that you two meet alone. I’m going to go find a seat in the courtroom.” He turned and walked away.

  “Daddy? Oh, Daddy, I’m so glad you’re here!” Jay shouted. “I want my daddy . . . ah . . . ah . . . Daddy!”

  Wallace turned and stared at Jay as she screamed and tried to break free of the deputy’s hold. She then doubled over and cried like she was in pain. He felt Mr. Rice’s hand touch his back. Jay’s pleading cries escalated. She was completely out of control. The deputy struggled to keep her on her feet.

  “Wait here, sir,” the attorney said. “I’m going to request a private room in the holding area so you can tend to your daughter. She needs you right now, and there’s plenty of time before the hearing. Wait here.”

  “Don’t go, Mr. Rice. Help me! I want . . . my . . . daddy! Oh my God, I want him! I want him! I want him! Daddy!”

  As he watched his child, Wallace stood motionless, in shock. He imagined she had cried for him many times while she was growing up without him, but he had been in no position to help her then. But it was a new day, and his circumstances were different now. For the first time in twenty-nine years, he could be a real father to his daughter. Wallace refused to let the opportunity slip through his fingers. Jay continued her outburst as passersby gawked and whispered.

  “Right this way, Reverend King.” Mr. Rice had returned to the corridor. “You’ll be allowed three minutes alone with Jayla inside a four-by-four room. She’ll be in handcuffs, and two armed deputies will be directly outside.” He held up three fingers. “That’s the best I could do.”

  Wallace followed the attorney down the corridor. They stopped outside a heavy metal door just to the left of the courtroom. Mr. Rice displayed his security badge and stepped aside for Wallace to enter the room.

  “Have a seat. They’ll bring your daughter here shortly.”

  Wallace took a seat in the folding chair facing the door. It was one of three pieces of furniture occupying the tiny drab space. A small table and another chair identical to the one he now sat in were the others. When the door opened, Wallace watched a female deputy force Jay down into the vacant chair. Then she removed two chains from her pocket and secured Jay’s arms and legs to the seat.

  “Three minutes,” the deputy reminded them before she shut the door.

  Wallace got up immediately and hugged Jay and kissed her on her cheek. She didn’t respond. He took his seat again and waited for her to speak.

  “Thank you for coming, Daddy. I never wanted anybody to kill Zach. You gotta believe me. This is a big mistake. It was Ayla Fitzpatrick. She’s Zach’s crazy, jealous ex. She’s a doctor. They work together at Grady. She was pissed that he had left her for Jill. She tricked me into talking to the guy about the hit. She even gave me the money! Please help me, Daddy. I don’t wanna go to prison.”

  Wallace listened quietly as Jay continued to ramble on. Nothing she had said so far made any sense. He studied her eyes and body language. There was no doubt in his mind that Jay was lying and blaming this Ayla character for what she had done. But even so, he wanted to support her as best he could without giving her false hope. The detectives had hard, cold, undisputable evidence against her. They’d searched her suite with the authorization of a warrant after her arrest and had found the manufactured pictures of Zach’s corpse. They’d also stumbled on the lender’s agreement between her and Ayla for the five-thousand-dollar loan.

  Besides that evidence, there were dozens of pictures of Jay and Fudge together. The prosecution had two hours of taped conversations of them planning the hit. The ten thousand dollars had Jay’s fingerprints all over it, as did the interior of Fudge’s Escalade. A conviction was a certainty, as far as Wallace was concerned. Even without Jay’s hotheaded statement to Zach upon her finding out that he wasn’t dead, Wallace was pretty sure Jay would be convicted. Telling her brother that she should have killed him herself, and right in front of Detectives Franklin and Ortega, was simply the icing on the cake. It was a strong inference to the crime she had been accused of committing.

  “Jayla,” Wallace finally said. “I came here to help you, sweetheart, but you’ll have to be totally honest with me. Did you order a hit on Zach?”

  Jay’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Are you kidding me? Didn’t you hear a damn word I just said? I didn’t do it!”

  “I heard your voice on the audio tapes. You said you wanted Zach dead. There are countless pictures of you and the undercover officer together on three or four different occasions. Your fingerprints were found on both stacks of money, Jayla. If Dr. Fitzpatrick wanted to have your brother murdered, why didn’t she take the initiative? A lender’s agreement found in your suite after you were arrested proves the five thousand dollars she gave you was a loan. You were supposed to have paid her back in thirty days. According to Zach, Dr. Fitzpatrick has been trying to reach you. She wants her money. How do explain any of this, honey?”

  Jay leaned forward in her chair as far as the chains would allow her. “Why the hell did you bring your punk ass here if you’re already convinced that I’m guilty? Don’t you think you’ve caused me enough pain by killing my mother? You did this to me!” Jay started jerking and twisting in the chair. “You ruined my life! I hate you, you coldhearted son of a bitch! I hate you! Get the hell outta here!”

  A male deputy burst into the room. “Your time is up.”

  Wallace left the room with the sound of Jay’s cursing and hatred ringing in his ears. He didn’t bother going to the courtroom. He had seen and heard enough. There was nothing more he could do for Jay other than pray for her. She was a classic example of a person who had lived through unfortunate circumstances because of the actions of others. But instead of using her pain and sorrow as motivation to fight and beat the odds against her, she’d turned to abusing others. Jay had worn Belva’s death as a badge of sympathy and a crutch to get whatever she wanted from whomever she was lucky enough to swindle it from. Venus, Jill, Zach, and even he had been her victims.

  Wallace was tired now and fresh out of ideas on how to win Jay’s love and forgiveness. The “Daddy is so sorry, baby girl” game he’d been playing with her over the years had come to an end without a winner. They’d both lost. Jay was on her way to prison, and Wallace would never know the joy of being loved by his only daughter. But he was cool with that. He still had a beautiful wife who loved him in spite of his past, and his two sons respected him. Nahima saw no flaws when she looked into his eyes and called him Papa. And in just a few weeks, he would experience the birth of a brand-new grandchild.

  “Reverend King?” Mr. Rice called as he jogged behind Wallace as he made his way to the elevator. “What happened back there? Why is Jayla so flustered? No one can calm her down.” />
  Wallace looked at the white man, who was all decked out in a two-thousand-dollar designer suit. His face had a pale red hue, and he was out of breath after tussling with Jay. Wallace wondered how much the state of Georgia was paying this man to represent his mentally ill daughter. Whatever the amount, it wasn’t worth the man’s time. She was going to string him along with lies and excuses, like she’d done with everyone else in her life.

  “I’m leaving, Mr. Rice. Jayla doesn’t want me here. You have my numbers and email address. If there is anything I can do to assist you with her defense, feel free to call me. Otherwise, I don’t think you’ll be hearing from me. Thank you for representing my daughter. Expect that check from me within a few days. I’ll be praying for you, because you’re gonna need it.”

  * * *

  Venus volunteered to drive Nahima over to Zach’s house for the weekend. He had been keeping a low profile lately because of the media frenzy surrounding Jay’s murder-for-hire case. The hoopla was dwindling slowly, but his face had become recognizable in Atlanta. Besides going to church and taking Jill to the doctor every other day, he stayed at home. Wallace and his family were there for support, and Aunt Jackie spent a lot of time there as well. Dex and Ramona dropped by every day to run errands for him and Jill and to entertain them.

  “Are you sure she won’t be a bother, Zach? You have a lot going on.” Venus handed him Nahima’s pink overnight bag. He eased the long strap onto his shoulder.

  “I need her.” He scooped the child up in his arms and kissed her on the forehead. When he placed her back on her feet, she took off running into the house, calling for Wallace Junior. “Come in and stay awhile, Venus.”

  Venus walked into the den and took a seat next to Zach on the sofa. “I still can’t believe it. Jay is a certified fool if I’ve ever met one. I’ve been having nightmares since the story broke. I can only imagine what you and Jill have been going through.”

  “It’s been rough. Jill wakes up at night, sometimes crying, and it pisses me off. She knows Jay is in jail, but she’s afraid to go anywhere. She doesn’t feel safe anymore. Can you believe she suggested we move to Jamaica?”

  “My heart goes out to Jill. I can relate to what she’s going through. We share a firsthand experience that’s almost impossible to describe. Jay’s claws dig deep. A few years ago I could’ve been her target. Jill could’ve easily been next. But I never would’ve thought she’d turn on you.”

  Zach stared off into space and rubbed his goatee. “I may have deserved her resentment for what I did, but Jay had no right to arrange my death. She tried it, though, and now she’s in jail for it. I don’t plan to go anywhere near the courthouse in the event of a trial, and I don’t wanna testify against her. All I want is for Jay to get the professional help she needs to deal with her issues.”

  Chapter Forty-three

  “Zachary, I’m not sure, but I think my water has broken.” Jill shook Zach gently as she lay in his arms.

  He didn’t answer. He shifted positions and patted Jill’s back. He was snoring slightly, the smell of Heineken on his breath. Zach hadn’t got to bed until after midnight. He and Dex had been watching a baseball game on television and nursing a case of their favorite brew.

  “Zachary, I think the baby is coming.” Jill shook him more forcefully this time and sat up. She could feel the warm trickling of fluid pooling in her panties. A sharp pain hit her when the baby kicked a few times. “Zachary, wake up! The baby is coming.”

  “I’m up. Be calm, okay?” He lifted his body into a sitting position in the bed. “I’m gonna call Dr. Nwizu and get you cleaned up. Are you having contractions?”

  “I am, but they are bearable.”

  Zach called and left a detailed message with Dr. Nwizu’s answering service and then showered with Jill. He helped her dress in a comfortable red caftan. As they headed for the staircase, Zach tapped on the guest bedroom door.

  “Hey, Jill’s water broke. We’re on our way to the hospital. We’ll call with an update as soon as she gets settled.”

  Wallace opened the door. “Do you need me to go with you?”

  Zach chuckled even as Jill squeezed his hand tight. “That’s not necessary. It’s five twenty in the morning. Go back to sleep, old man. I’ll call you.”

  En route to the hospital, Zach called Faye. She became very excited by the news that her first grandchild was about to be born. Zach promised to call her later. Then he placed calls to Aunt Jackie and Dex.

  * * *

  “Go to sleep, Ms. King, or I’ll have the doctor come in and give you a sedative! I refuse to put up with your racket this early in the morning. It’s not even six o’clock yet. Shut your mouth and lay down!” Deputy Hall warned. He’d had enough of all the screaming, cursing, and crying.

  “I hear voices! I wanna die!”

  “Well, lie down and close your eyes! Maybe God will grant your wish.”

  Jay hadn’t anticipated the time and effort it would take to convince the court, law enforcement, and the psychiatrists that she was crazy. It was a full-time job. Threatening to kill herself had become her mantra ever since the judge had set her bail at a whopping 150,000 dollars. It was why she was under a seventy-two-hour suicide watch, again. It was her fourth time. The tiny cell closest to the deputies’ surveillance room, housing nothing but a cot and a commode, had become her home. She was allowed no contact with other inmates because of her suicidal tendencies and erratic behavior.

  “Just look at her crazy ass.” Deputy Hall and a female deputy were watching Jay on the monitor. She was on her knees in the middle of the floor, howling like a wild animal.

  “I think she’s faking. You know how dramatic we women can be.”

  “I know she is. I’ve read her record. She has a master’s degree in business and once managed a five-star resort in Montego Bay, Jamaica. The woman has no history of mental illness. The undercover officer she hired to snuff out her brother was a dude she’d met at a bootleg house in Ridgewood. He was supposed to be a friend of a friend of her lover’s. Dude said she was desperate to have the job done and was willing to pay top dollar. Do you think a crazy person could’ve set that up?”

  “Hell no, I don’t. She can keep her little loony act going for as long as she wants to, but she’s going to prison. I’d bet my rent money on it.”

  * * *

  “How do you feel?”

  “I am so tired, Zachary. When will the baby be here?”

  “Not much longer. Our kid is a stubborn little rascal. He won’t come down. I’m gonna spank his little ass as soon as he gets here for putting you through all this hell.”

  Dex snapped a picture of Zach and Jill holding hands while they waited for Dr. Nwizu and her team to deliver their baby via C-section. They’d been at the hospital since six o’clock in the morning. It was after eleven at night. Jill had been a trooper during her seventeen hours of labor. It was Zach who’d done all the whining and complaining. At one point, he had become frustrated and had threatened the doctor. He’d told her if she didn’t take Jill to surgery, he was going to sign her out of the hospital and take her to another one where he could find a doctor who would. Thanks to Dex, he had settled down and gone to the cafeteria to eat and let off some steam. That had been six hours ago.

  Jill’s drooping eyes were closing from exhaustion. The epidural had kicked in, and she was drifting in and out of sleep. “I’m so sleepy, Zachary. Where is Dr. Nwizu?”

  “I’m right here, my dear.” Jill’s doctor entered the operating room with a cheerful smile on her face. “Are you ready?”

  “Uh-huh. I’ve been ready since this morning.”

  Zach held Jill’s hand and watched Dr. Nwizu and her team prep for surgery. The anesthesiologist made sure the patient had the proper amount of pain medication for the procedure. Then, like an expert, the Nigerian-born doctor made an incision just below Jill’s belly, at the bikini line. Dex didn’t care to watch that particular part of the process. His face was turned
away from the operating table. He promised to resume his photographer’s duties once the pediatric nurse accompanying Dr. Nwizu gave him a cue.

  “Oh my, this is a big baby. Not much longer now, Jill. You’ve been a champion, darling. Your patience is to be commended. Ah, at last he is here!” Dr. Nwizu lifted a crying and flailing baby boy from his mother’s womb.

  Flashes from Dex’s camera covered him with several quick shots. The nurse took the baby and invited a teary-eyed Zach to help with her post-delivery duties.

  “You did it, Jill.” Zach kissed her damp face. “You did a great job. Thank you.” He kissed her again. “I’ll be back. I’ve gotta go meet our son.”

  Jill nodded as her eyes slowly closed. “Uh-huh,” she hummed before sleep overtook her.

  Chapter Forty-four

  Zach couldn’t help but think about Zachary Junior every time he held one of his frail little patients. He was at home with Jill, healthy, thriving, and slightly overweight. But the baby girl to whom he’d just given a steroid injection to help strengthen her lungs faced a grim prognosis. Zach cradled her fragile, three-pound body in his palm a little while longer for comfort.

  “Be strong, little mama. I want you to live and grow up to be the first female president of the United States. I’ll tell everybody I once held you in one hand. You’ve gotta fight to live, pumpkin.” He kissed the baby on her forehead and returned her to the incubator.

  Someone outside the NICU nursery tapped on the window. Zach looked up and frowned. Detective Ortega smiled and motioned for him to come out into the hallway. Zach signaled with his index finger that he’d be with him shortly. It had been weeks since he’d heard anything about Jay’s case, and he had hoped it would remain that way. He’d forbidden Aunt Jackie and Dex from telling him anything they’d heard on the news or read in the newspaper. He and Jill were enjoying parenthood and wanted no negative distractions. The last six weeks had been like heaven for them with their new baby boy.