Endangered (15 page)

Chapter Twenty-two

JANAE SAT BESIDE LORETTA IN THE SMALL WAITING AREA AT THE HOSPITAL. The room, which was really no more than a deep indent in the wall of a larger reception area, had six chairs and two coffee tables with a few tattered magazines on them.

Loretta's face was stained with tears. Her body shook back and forth. Janae softly massaged the desperate mother's back.

“Let it out,” she whispered. “It's good to let it out. Michael is going to be okay.”

A nurse strode into the waiting area for the third time to give Loretta an update. Michael was still in surgery. He was in critical condition. He had sustained multiple gunshot wounds to the back. One went straight through, just missing his heart and exiting his chest. Another was lodged in his lung.

Loretta reached over and grabbed Janae's hands as if to squeeze some strength from them. “It happened right outside my apartment,” Loretta moaned. “After you left, I called him and told him to come home, that I needed to talk to him right away. He had been staying at a friend's house across the way just until things died down—just until I could figure out what to do,” she said regretfully. “As he got out of my friend's car, he took a few steps toward our door. I was right there, waiting for him. Then I heard them.” Her eyes welled with tears. “The shots were so loud, so close. Michael . . .” She paused. “He still tried to come to me as he was falling. I ran to him and caught him before he hit the ground. Blood was everywhere. He was foaming at the mouth. He was crying. He was calling my name. ‘Mommy, Mommy.' Reaching out for me. Reaching out for me, and then before he blacked out, his eyes focused on mine, he spoke to me as clear as I am talking to you right now. He said, he said, ‘Shaun killed me.'”

Janae wrapped her arms around her. “Oh, Loretta, he is not going to die. You gotta believe he is going to make it.”

The surgeon walked into the waiting room followed by Calvin. Janae released Loretta. Calvin sat beside her, pushing a cup of coffee in her direction.

Janae's eyes were on the surgeon. His shoulders were curled downward. Janae reached over to grab hold of Loretta's hand.

The doctor cleared his throat and rubbed his brow. “Your son . . . he, he didn't make it. His body sustained too much trauma. We couldn't get the bleeding under control.” After a brief pause, he said, “I am so sorry.”

“This can't be. God, please, not Michael,” Janae exclaimed.

All the things Janae wanted for Malik, Michael would never know—no graduations, no girlfriend, no prom.

A moan broke deep within Loretta. It was a low, rumbling sound that was awful, heartbreaking, and demanded the attention of anyone in earshot. Her body rocked back and forth. The tissues Janae used to dab at Loretta's eyes weren't enough to absorb the flood of tears. Tears poured down her face, quickly soaking the front of her shirt.

The doctor's eyes were wet with tears. “I am so sorry for your loss.” His voice cracked a bit. He patted Loretta's clenched fist. “When you are ready, the nurse will take you to see him.”

Eventually, Loretta's crying subsided into small and sporadic bursts of sobs.

“Loretta, I'm not going until I know that you're okay. Is there anyone I can call for you? Your mom, a friend, anyone?”

“No, they'd just come down here and start the crying all over, and if I start again, I don't think I'll ever stop. I just want to be here close to Michael right now. I'll call them soon, but not now.”

“What can I do for you, Loretta?”

She stared out of the waiting area at the nurse's station. “I guess they'll come soon to tell me I can see Michael before . . .” and her voice faded. After a few moments of silence her voice returned strong and clear. “Make sure you get Shaun G, that's what you can do for me. Make sure he pays for what he did to Michael and Troy.”

“We will,” Calvin said with his usual self-confidence.

“Loretta, if you want, I can go in with you,” Janae said.

Loretta patted her hand. “Thanks, but I need to do this on my own. You go. You have work to do.” She reached inside her purse and pulled out her cell phone. She pointed it in Janae's direction and shook it slightly. “As soon as I see Michael, I'll call somebody. I promise.”

“Okay, Loretta, we'll go, but only on one condition. Give me the number of a relative and we will give it to the nurse and tell her to call in a half an hour,” Calvin said, sensing Janae's reluctance to leave her neighbor.

She smiled faintly. “Okay. I can do that.”

Chapter Twenty-three

THE HARSH COLD OF THE EARLY EVENING WAS ODDLY REFRESHING. JANAE had sworn to herself numerous times that if she ever came into some money the first thing she would do is move to Florida, or Arizona, any place warmer. But now the biting wind and the swirl of fluffy snowflakes felt cleansing. She and Calvin marched a good three blocks to get to his car. The wind stunned Janae's face as if a hundred tiny tweezers were plucking at the finest hairs on her skin. When the bites became too painful she started walking backward.

“What are you doing?” Calvin said.

She struggled to say, “I can't take it. It's too cold.”

Calvin unwrapped his scarf. “Here—” and before she could resist, he'd wrapped it around her, from nose to neck. It was soft and warm and smelled sweet and woodsy at the same time. She offered a muffled, “Thanks.”

He grabbed her hand and they darted the rest of the way to the car. It had a dusting of snow on it. He started the ignition and made sure the heat was set to high.

Janae waited in the car while Calvin brushed the snow from the front and back windshields. First cold and then barely lukewarm air blasted out of the vent onto the exposed portion of her face. She watched Calvin through the window. This was the kind of man she wanted Malik to be. Smart. Thoughtful. Fearless.

When he got in the car, Calvin's cheeks were red. He looked at her wide-eyed, still feeling the elements' attack. “It's cold out there.” He smiled.

“Yeah, it is.” Janae began to unwrap the scarf from around her neck. “What is this scarf made of? I'm going to get one for Malik. It's so soft and light, yet really, really warm.”

“It's cashmere.” He reached over and touched the scarf that still draped around her neck. “Yeah, it reminds me of home.”

Janae looked at him sideways, watching him remove his gloves from his stiff fingers. He vigorously rubbed his hands together.

“We have a lot to discuss. Are you hungry?”

She thought about her empty apartment. There was no point in her rushing to get back there. “Kind of.”

“Good. We'll talk over dinner.”

 

THE RESTAURANT WAS A LITTLE ITALIAN PLACE TOUTING AUTHENTIC CUISINE. She allowed him to order his favorite dish for her.

“We'll have two plates of spaghetti.”

She laughed under her breath.

He waited for the waitress to leave their table. “What?”

“I don't know. I was expecting something different. Something fancier, I guess. I could have made you some spaghetti and meatballs myself.”

“Naw. This is the real deal. I've actually had spaghetti in Italy, and this place gives it a run for its money.”

“Okay. We'll see.”

Calvin breathed deeply. “There are a couple of things I need to go over with you. First, we have a hearing tomorrow.”

“What!” she said louder than intended. She quickly scanned the dimly lit room to see if anyone was bothered by her outburst.

“It's not the waiver hearing. That's still a week away. The prosecutor is trying to get Judge McCormick off the case. They want him to recuse himself.”

She frowned. “What exactly does that mean?”

“Well, basically they are claiming that the judge is too biased to even hear the case. That he is too empathetic to Malik's case to be objective and he should hand the case over to some other judge.”

Janae pressed down hard on her lips. “I don't get it. Doesn't he hear criminal cases all the time? Isn't that his job? What makes Malik's case so different?”

“My point exactly. You should have been a lawyer,” he said and smiled.
Janae Williams, Esq.

A smile crept across Janae's face.

“This is about Roger, no doubt. I think he is getting to them. Also Judge McCormick does have a reputation for being prodefendant. He is the worst possible judge to be hearing this case for the prosecution. So I get why they are doing this.”

“But what's going to happen tomorrow? Will they get what they want?”

“We are going to make our best arguments against it. I can't make any guarantees, but, honestly, I don't think they have a leg to stand on. What bothers me about this is that there's a real possibility that this could push Malik's waiver hearing back, and I don't want that. So that's my main focus, to make sure we stay on track with everything.”

“I thought you were going to start with the fact that we no longer have a witness.”

Calvin shook his head. “I know. But we still have his words. His mother can testify to what he said right after he was shot. And I've already got the ball rolling on making sure a forensic comparison is made between the bullets removed from Troy and those taken from Michael's body.”

Two perfectly healthy boys, both dead. Murdered.

“Okay, now what exactly is a ‘forensic comparison'?”

“This is very good news for us if the report turns out the way I expect it will,” he explained. “What they'll do is take a look at the bullets that were shot into Troy and Michael to see if there is anything in common about them. Most times, bullets shot from the same gun have certain identifying markers on them.”

“Are you saying that if those markers are present, then even if we don't have the actual gun, we can prove that Malik couldn't have been the murderer because he was locked up when Michael was shot?”

“Exactly,” he confirmed, and gestured with his index finger in her direction.

The waiter came with their plates of spaghetti. Janae had to admit it already smelled better than what she could do with a pound of ground beef, a box of pasta, and a jar of Ragu. She allowed the waiter to grate fresh Parmesan on top of her heap of pasta.

“Go ahead, try it,” Calvin encouraged.

She smiled. She used her fork to move the fresh basil that topped the spaghetti to the lip of the plate. She drove her fork into it and then twirled it until she had just enough to get a real taste but not look like a hog in the process.

She chewed and nodded at the same time. In her mouth was an explosion of fresh herbs. “This is really good,” she said between bites.

“I told you. This is what you call real Italian food. That stuff most people do at home is a half step away from a can of SpaghettiOs.” They both laughed.

Calvin ground fresh pepper onto his spaghetti and then took a bite. “So,” he said, twisting more food onto his fork, “I want to know how you are doing, Janae. There's a lot going on right now. Are you taking good care of yourself?”

She inhaled deeply and released slowly. “Thank you.” Her brow furrowed. “That is so sweet. I think it might be one of the nicest things anyone has said to me lately.”

“Well, you keep hanging around me and there's plenty more where that came from.”

Janae chuckled. “I don't think Ms. Samantha Cartwright would like that one bit.”

“Ooooo,” Calvin said, covering his mouth with a loose fist. He smiled.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Janae said, looking around her as though she was searching for something. “I don't know where that came from. Did I say that out loud?”

“You did. You sure did. Was it that obvious?”

“Only about as clear as this glass,” she said, circling the rim of her glass of water with the tip of her finger. “She seems very nice. She's definitely smart and attractive. Actually, she seems a lot like you.”

“We dated for a while. It didn't work because we were too much alike, like you said; both of us were uber-focused on our individual careers, and neither one of us was willing to invest the time a relationship needs, especially early on.”

“Well, maybe there's a future for the two of you.”

Calvin pressed his lips tightly together. “What about your future, Janae?”

Her finger stopped mid-circle on the glass rim.

“You've already told me that in the past it was you and Malik against the world—but what about your future? What about someone for you?”

Janae shook her head. “I, I can't even think about that.”

“You can't or you won't?” Calvin questioned.

“I can't. It's just that I need to make everything right for my son first. There is so much I have to do to make it right for him. I keep replaying the past fifteen years in my head, about how I've been raising Malik. I've been living my life in a dark haze, drifting aimlessly with Malik in tow. Before his arrest, I was so preoccupied with trying to provide for his basic needs that I neglected the most important things. I worked every day without fail and still came up short every month. There were times when I didn't know how I would even get to my job because I had to spend my bus fare on food for the two of us. I have existed with a constant fear that it would all just blow up and I wouldn't be able to give him what he needs.” She swayed her head from left to right. “
Lack
can definitely do a number on you. It can make you angry and bitter. I don't want to be that way. Malik deserves more. I know now that the best thing I can do for Malik is give him more of
me
. I want to focus on the most important things . . . I want to spend time with him so that I can teach him what he needs to know . . . I just want him to be a strong man, a good man.” She folded her lips into her mouth and slowly released them.

Calvin reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “I get it. But maybe you don't have to do it alone.”