Deadly Satisfaction (23 page)

G
ENEVA

G
eneva's day had started off with a nightmare before the crack of dawn, followed by a fistfight between her husband and his brother shortly after breakfast, which ushered in a stressful afternoon because not only had it started snowing, Joe had told his parents he was thinking about pressing assault charges against Samuel. Herbert and Sarah had spent over an hour on the phone trying to convince their oldest son not to press charges against his little brother. And although that minor catastrophe had been averted, it had been stressful nonetheless.

Now it was nighttime, and the house was calm. Geneva had just put Gabrielle down ten minutes ago, and her in-laws had been in bed for an hour. Samuel was taking a shower, preparing to end his day, and Geneva was in the kitchen. Although all she wanted to do was go upstairs, lie down in her bed, and sleep through the holiday, she knew she couldn't do that, and, if anything, she needed to do just the opposite. Her happy family holiday had morphed into antics fit for reality TV, and Geneva knew she needed to turn things around. So she began to do the one thing she knew was guaranteed to uplift everyone: She began to cook.

She knew she had to work fast, while they still had electricity. The wicked snowstorm that had snuck up on the area had not only caused dozens of accidents in Amber and left thousands of holiday travelers stranded in airports throughout the Southeast, it had left entire neighborhoods dark from widespread power outages. As it stood, the lights in Geneva's kitchen had been flickering on and off for the last thirty minutes and she knew she couldn't afford to waste time because she might find herself in the dark, too.

Geneva worked quickly as she cleaned and chopped a sink full of collard greens, washed and peeled a bag of sweet potatoes, and put the perfectly brined, twenty-pound turkey in the oven. She was cracking the eggs to make her specialty five-flavor pound cake when she heard Samuel enter the kitchen.

“It smells delicious in here,” Samuel said as he walked up to Geneva, stood behind her, and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Can I lick the bowl once you finish?”

“You're worse than a child,” she teased.

“I take that as a yes.”

“Of course. How's your hand feeling?”

Samuel stood back and stretched the fingers on his swollen hand. “It's okay,” he said as he shook his head. “This will heal quicker than the rift between Joe and me.”

“Honey, I'm so sorry about what happened.”

“It's not your fault, and as a matter of fact, he should actually be thanking you because if it hadn't been for the fact that I didn't want to upset you, I would've called him out about what he did when I first found out. And to think, he was going to try to have me arrested today. Every time I think about it . . .”

The only other person Geneva had ever seen Samuel show this kind of frustration toward had been Johnny, and she knew that in order to be thrown into the same category as her deceitful late husband, the person had to be a real snake. “Hopefully Joe's in his hotel room thinking about the mistakes he's made and how he can make them right.”

“You can't be serious.”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I am. For all you know, Joe might develop a conscience and apologize to you before he leaves town.”

“Do you really believe he'll do that? Remember, we're talking about my brother.”

“I don't believe in Joe, but I do believe in the power of redemption, and I have hope.”

Samuel smiled and kissed Geneva's cheek. “That's why I love you. You always try to find the best in people.”

“You never know, honey. Sometimes people can change in ways you'd never imagine.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I guess it can happen, but you're talking about changing someone's mind-set, which means changing their attitude.”

“It can happen.”

Samuel shook his head. “It usually takes something really drastic to make a person change, like experiencing a life-altering event, or something that's nearly catastrophic, and even that might not be enough.”

Geneva thought about what he'd just said, and she had to admit he had a very good point. Johnny had been a perfect example of that. He'd lost his marriage, his relationship with his best friend, and his real estate business, and even then he'd still been up to the same old tricks. It wasn't until the very end, when he was about to lose his life, that Johnny had tried to put forth a change. As Geneva thought about Johnny, it made her remember her dream.

She shook her head and shivered as her mind took her back to the image of Johnny's dead body lying on the kitchen floor, and his real killer—a shadowy figure draped in black—calmly walking from the scene and out the kitchen door. She closed her eyes and tried to push the image out of her mind, but she couldn't. It was as vivid and real as if she was standing right there. Then, out of the blue, a new detail came to her that she hadn't paid attention to in her dream. As the killer walked away, Geneva had noticed that the woman was wearing a hat. She couldn't tell what kind of hat it was, just that it was small and black. Geneva tried to concentrate so the image would come in clearer, but just as soon as the vision had come to her, it was gone. Geneva was so startled her knees became wobbly.

“Baby, are you okay?” Samuel reached for her elbow and slowly led her over to the bar stool. “The stress from yesterday and the chaos from today has taken its toll on you,” he said. “Now you're cooking, but baby, you need to relax.” He walked over to the refrigerator and poured her a glass of water. “Here, drink this.”

Geneva took small sips, trying to make sense of what had just happened and what she'd seen. “Could it be real?” she whispered aloud.

“Could what be real?”

“Samuel, I'm not imagining things, I was there.”

“Baby, you're not making sense. Are you all right?”

“No, I'm not. There's something I need to tell you.”

The cake batter that Geneva had been mixing sat untouched as she began to tell Samuel about the dream she'd had, and then about the vision that had just come to her and nearly knocked her off her feet. “It can't be a dream because I'm fully awake,” she said. “I don't know how or why this is happening, but I do know it's real.”

Samuel was quiet, and Geneva could tell he was processing every word she was saying. If there was one thing she knew about her husband, it was that he never made a judgment about something until thoroughly thinking it over, and once he did, the questions would begin. “What do you think about what I just told you?” she asked. “I know I've been under some stress, but what I saw was real.”

Samuel rubbed his hand over his closely cropped hair and cleared his throat. “I believe that everything you saw is quite possible.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I do. The mind, and particularly the subconscious, is very powerful. There's lots of mysterious, otherworldly things that happen that can't be explained. Just because we don't have a rational or scientific answer for something, it doesn't discount that it's possible. I don't remember, but did you have any dreams like this after Johnny's murder?”

“No, I didn't. The nightmare I just told you about was the first time.”

“Maybe the fact that there's possible evidence that may prove Vivana's innocence, is the reason this is happening to you.”

What Samuel had just said made complete sense to her, and she believed his theory was on point. Geneva was amazed by how calm Samuel's reaction was. She knew he was levelheaded and introspective, but what she'd just told him would be hard for anyone to believe, let alone rationalize into the probability that it was real. She had to ask him. “Honey, how can you be so calm about what I just told you?”

“Because I've heard about things like this happening before.”

“You have?”

Samuel nodded. “My first job in elementary education was as a teacher at a private school in DC. There was a very nice woman who worked there named Emily Baldwin, who was originally from the South. She and I became good friends, and her husband and I used to golf together on the weekends. Anyway, there was a student whom we both taught who exhibited what could only be categorized as ‘otherworldly' behavior. He'd do things that were completely unexplainable. One morning he told a girl in the class that she needed to be careful because she was going to fall and hurt herself during recess. Sure enough, the girl fell off the monkey bars and broke her arm.”

Geneva scratched her head. “That sounds a lot like the power of suggestive thinking. You know, when you say or suggest something and it happens.”

“That's what I thought, until it happened over and over again. It bothered me so much that I talked to Emily about it, and she told me something I'd never heard before. She said the boy had what people in the South call the ‘gift'.”

“What's that?”

“It's basically the ability to see things before they happen. But the gift can manifest itself in different ways. Some people can see into the future, some can read minds, and some can have out-of-body experiences, where they can go outside of themselves and see things as they happen, whether it's in the past or the present. I think the latter is what happened to you.”

Just then the lights flickered again. Geneva looked into Samuel's eyes and could see that he was gravely serious. “Do you think I have the ‘gift'?”

Samuel hunched his shoulders. “I don't know. It could just be an isolated episode, but whatever is happening to you, it's real.”

“When I saw Johnny sitting on the living room couch, drinking, I could actually smell the liquor in his glass, and when I saw his body lying on the floor . . .” Geneva's voice trailed off into a faint whisper. “I could see the blood oozing out of his body. It was just as real as the conversation I'm having with you right now.”

“I believe you. The level of detail you were able to tell me about the things you saw let me know that you were there. Somehow, someway, there's an unexplained, maybe even supernatural energy that's trying to lead you to who really killed Johnny.”

“And that makes sense, because my dream happened right at the time Vivana and her lawyer said there's new evidence.”

“Right, and my guess is that whatever evidence they have isn't concrete—otherwise, a crafty, well-seasoned lawyer like Leslie Sachs would've put it all out there and Vivana would be out of prison by now, preparing for Thanksgiving dinner like we're doing.”

The wheels were turning in Geneva's mind. She hadn't thought about what Samuel had just said, but it was very plausible. “I'm willing to bet that something I saw in my dream is the key to proving Vivana's innocence, and I know what it is.”

“The blue box that held the pictures, video discs, and burner phone.” Samuel said.

“Yes, and the black hat I just saw.”

“Do you think you should contact Leslie Sachs?”

“Yes, but before I talk to her I'm going to call Councilwoman Harris, because I want legal guidance, just to cover my back in case things turn upside down and they try to pin something on me.”

Samuel nodded. “I agree with you. Charlene Harris is a fair and honest woman, and she'll guide you through whatever you need to do. Having her as a friend is a definite advantage.”

The lights flickered again and made Geneva jump. “I'm going to call her before it gets too late, and before the electricity goes out.” Geneva dialed Charlene Harris's number and the woman picked up on the second ring.

“Hi, Geneva,” Charlene said.

“Hi. I'm so sorry to bother you so late, and right before the holiday.”

“Nonsense. You're never a bother, dear. Besides, the only thing I'm doing is sitting in my family room, and I just lit a candle.”

“You lost power?”

“About ten minutes ago. I was in the middle of cooking, too.”

“The lights have been flickering here, so I guess we might be next.”

“I hope not, but keep your candles and flashlight handy, and I hope you have a wood-burning fireplace,” Charlene said.

“We don't,” Geneva responded with disappointment, thinking about how cold it would get if their electricity went out.

“Well, you, Samuel, and Gabrielle need to wrap up in blankets so you can keep warm. As a matter of fact, I need to put another log on the fire because it's going to get cold in here, and Lauren will probably be downstairs any minute because she's more cold-natured than I am.”

Geneva walked to the closet down the hall and removed a flashlight and candles. “I guess Phillip can load up the firewood so you two can stay warm.”

Charlene sighed. “Don't get me started about him.”

“Is there something wrong with Phillip?”

“Nothing that a cold shower can't cure.”

Geneva knew exactly what Charlene was talking about because she knew from conversations with Charlene that Phillip was a ladies' man. “Does this involve a woman?”

“Bingo!” she said with frustration. “That son of mine left out of here a few hours ago in the middle of this ridiculous snowstorm just to see some woman.”

“Wow, she must be very special.”

“That's what Lauren said. And the crazy thing about it is that he just met the girl.”

“Really?”

“Yes, last night he went to Sebastian's to get us dinner, and then to the grocery store after that. The next thing I knew he was back out the door and I didn't see him again until this morning when he picked Lauren up from the airport, and now he's gone again. At least he stocked the house with food from the grocery list I texted him last night. Otherwise we'd be in real trouble.”