Paint It Black (19 page)

“Do you remember Julie Arp?” Cougar asked. “She was a traffic cop downtown—”

“I remember,” I said, recalling another of Cougar’s old girlfriends. “The one who talked like Fran Drescher.”

Angel laughed and I gave him a wink. Cougar ignored us.

“You know she married one of the cops from the sixteenth district, right? They have a little boy. Well,
she and a handful of the other policemen’s wives started a round-the-clock operation—Cops with Kids, I think they call it—because they couldn’t find sitters who would accommodate our weird hours. I’ve been inside. It’s a pretty nice setup … beds and everything. Sorta like school. I mean, hopefully you won’t have to use it much, but there are cops dropping off and picking up kids at all hours. I can check on it for you, if you like.”

“That would be great,” I said, though it gave me a pang to think of strangers caring for Abby.

Cougar must’ve seen through my smile, because he reached over and took my hand. “We’re going to help you through this, you know.”

I nodded, but he didn’t release me. Goose bumps ran up my arm when he stroked the top of my hand with his thumb.

“Barnes’s jury selection is in the morning,” he said. “I hate to miss it, but Bill said he’d be there.” He looked at Angel. “He’s going to pay for what he did to you, I swear it.”

The fierceness in Cougar’s eyes made my throat constrict. My father—my
father
—had done this to Angel. I dreaded the trial, because I was sure Barnes would use our connection to try to save himself. At what point would he show his hand, and what would my lie of omission cost me?

“Necie, you don’t look so good,” Cougar said, and
I blinked.

“I’m okay. Just tired.”

“Let’s go. It’s time I took you home.”

Twenty minutes later, I dropped my purse on the kitchen counter and shrugged out of my coat. “Thanks, Coug, for everything. I would’ve never gotten her upstairs without you.”

“Glad to help.” He gave me a long, searching look. “Do you want me to stay?”

A dozen thoughts raced through my mind, none of them pure, but I managed to shake my head. “No, you go get some rest. I’ll be all right from here.”

He nodded and surprised me by grasping my shoulders. He planted a firm kiss on the center of my forehead before releasing me and walking out the door. I watched him go, resisting the crazy impulse to call him back.

After locking the door, I limped down the hall to the bathroom. While the tub filled, I retrieved some Epsom salts from beneath the sink and dumped half a box into the steaming water. With the exaggerated care of a ninety-year-old, I stripped and climbed into the tub.

For a moment, the sharp zing from all my cuts and abrasions electrified me. I gritted my teeth until the pain faded to a dull throb. The heat seemed to seep into my muscles, drugging me. It took all my efforts to turn the water off a few minutes later. Closing my eyes, I lay there like a dead woman.

I awoke around 2 a.m. to find my water chilly and my neck stiff. Somehow, I dried off, pulled on some clothes, and staggered to bed. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, but too soon, my alarm blasted me back awake. I winced at the sunlight streaming through the shades and wondered how I was going to get out of bed, much less get to work. At some point, Abby had crawled in beside me. She raised up on an elbow and squinted at me.

“Oh, Mama, your face …”

“Um,” I replied, and swung my legs over the side of the bed. My stiffened limbs screamed in protest, and I gripped the edge of the mattress to counter a wave of dizziness. I caught my reflection in the dresser mirror and grimaced.

The bride of Frankenstein had nothing on the soon-to-be ex of Grady Bramhall. Part of it I expected for going to bed with wet hair, but I hadn’t anticipated how swollen and discolored my face would be.

“What happened to you?” Abby asked, her voice small and quiet.

I wanted to be straight with her, and after all, God only knew what Elizabeth had said about me, but I could not look my child in the face and tell her that her daddy had done this. I told her I’d fallen in the parking lot and banged my face. Then I tried for a smile and patted the spot next to me. Abby scooted over to sit beside me.
“Honey, can we talk about last night, and why you were mad at me?”

She stared at the floor. “I wanted to see the wedding. I was playing with Trish, and you made me leave. Grandma was upset and crying. She said you were going to take me away from her and Daddy and never let me see them again.” She peeked at me from beneath her bangs. “Are you?”

“I know how much you love your grandma and daddy, and how much they love you. I’d never keep you from them, unless I thought you were in danger. I’m not going to lie to you; things will be different. Daddy won’t be living here anymore, but no matter what problems he and I have, it doesn’t change the fact that we both love you.”

“But why can’t Daddy live here anymore? Is it because of your job?”

I gritted my teeth and did a ten-count. “No, baby, it has nothing to do with my job. Did Grandma tell you that?”

Abby nodded.

“What else did Grandma tell you?”

“She said for me not to believe the awful things you told me about Daddy, and I told her you hadn’t said anything about Daddy. She said you would, and when you did, I should tell you to stop lying about him.”

Oooh, that woman. If she weren’t already in the
hospital, I’d be tempted to put her there.

“She said you and Daddy would be the death of her. When I saw her lying on the floor, I thought …” She frowned and chewed on her thumbnail. “But Cougar said it wasn’t your fault, that you’d never hurt her because that would hurt me and you loved me more than anything.”

I hugged her and gave Cougar a mental “thank you.” “He’s right, you know. I love you more than anything. Never forget that.”

“I love you, too, Mama.”

“So, we’re good?”

She smiled and nodded.

“Let’s get you ready for school then.”

At the office, I felt like a bug in a glass jar. Everyone stared and whispered and stopped by to see if I was okay. After a visit from Ms. Runner-Up New Jersey, Mrs. Run-Down Philadelphia collected her paperwork and fled to an empty conference room for some privacy. I was almost finished when my cell phone rang.

“Are you able to be there?” Bill demanded.

“I’m fine. A little scary looking, but fine. Even managed to get here without the crutches Cougar procured for me last night.”

“I’m still at jury selection. I got worried when I tried to call your house and couldn’t get you. I thought maybe you were sleeping it off, but then Ubi told me you were there. I can’t believe you came in today.”

“Ah, you know … it’s that slave driver I work for …”

“Yeah, yeah … well, that slave driver wants to buy you lunch. Grab the Willis file and meet me at the courthouse. The Barnes proceeding should be breaking soon, and we’ll grab a bite to eat. You can kick around the rest of the afternoon with me.”

“Sounds like a plan. See you in fifteen.”

Bill pegged it pretty close. By the time I figured out which courtroom he was in, the doors opened and people started streaming out. Bill winced when he saw me and made his way across the hall to join me.

“Ouch, you weren’t kidding about the scary thing, huh?”

“Ha, ha. Thank you. Thankyouverymuch.”

“Come on.” He took my elbow. “Let’s get out of here. I’m starving.”

We turned to make our way to the exit, and Bill snapped his fingers. “Hang on a sec. I forgot to tell Mac something.”

Mac was the prosecutor. Thinking they’d led Barnes away through the back already, I followed Bill into the courtroom.

Barnes still sat at the defense table with his lawyers, and he glanced up when we walked in. A horrified look crossed his face. He placed his palms on the table and tried to stand. I pivoted and hurried back outside.

I leaned against the wall, my heart beating wildly. I
didn’t know why the concern on his face affected me so, but I still felt skittish when Bill rejoined me a moment later.

“Linda said the new Chinese place down the block is pretty good. Want to give it a try?”

I managed a squeaky “Sure.”

The cold walk cleared my head. By the time we reached the restaurant, I almost felt normal. We watched a couple of teenage boys through the window as we waited to be seated.

“How do they stand that, in this weather?” I asked, gesturing at the jeans belted below their boxer-clad buttocks.

“That’s a style?” Bill helped himself to a peppermint beside the cash register and winked. “I figured some rapper died, and they were wearing their pants at half-mast.”

I laughed. “You’re a funny guy. Almost as funny as my lawyer.”

“Two?” our greeter asked, and Bill nodded. “Follow me.”

My cell rang and she shot me a disapproving glance before walking away. I flipped the phone open, but didn’t recognize the number displayed. I answered it anyway.

“What happened to you?” a gruff voice asked, and I nearly dropped the phone when I recognized Barnes’s voice.

I stopped in my tracks in the middle of the crowded restaurant.

“How did you get this number?”

“What happened to you?” he asked again.

Bill glanced back at me, his eyebrows raised. I
placed my hand over the receiver and said, “Go ahead. I need to take this.”

I turned and strode back outside. The wind hit me like a slap, but my cheeks were hot with fury. “Look, I don’t know how you got this number, but—”

“Denise, please,” he said. “I can’t talk long. I’m your father. I want to know what happened to you.”

I gripped the phone. “Because you’re so concerned, right? I’m nearly thirty years old. This doting-daddy stuff is too little too late.”

“What can I do?” he asked, and I was taken aback at how defeated he sounded. “Isn’t there some way to show you I’m sorry, that I never meant to hurt you … that I do love you? Won’t you give me a second chance?”

I shoved my fist into my coat pocket and hugged myself against the cold. “A second chance? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m an old man, Denise. I’m probably going to prison. I don’t want to die knowing my firstborn hates me. What can I do to make things better between us?”

“You can start by taking responsibility for your actions.”

“I’m sorry I hurt your mother—”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I’m not talking about her. I’m talking about Angel, one of the best friends I’ve ever had. Did you or did you not shoot him and leave him for dead?”

Silence.

“Fine. I see how you’ve changed. Good-bye,
Daddy
. Don’t call this number again.”

I snapped the phone shut and stood there for a moment, trying to tamp my fury before I rejoined Bill. Who did Barnes think he was kidding? Did he think I was that stupid?

When I felt like I had myself under control, I went back inside. I brushed off Bill’s questions, and we went to check out the buffet.

We were in the middle of our wonton soup when his cell rang. He opened it, squinted at the number, then answered. “Yeah, Tuck. What do you have?”

His eyes widened. “You’re kidding me. What? Are you sure? Okay. Yeah, I’ll meet you there.”

“What?” I demanded as he shut the phone and stared at me.

Maybe Barnes had ratted me out. That was probably his plan all along, and now there were cell phone records proving we’d spoken—

“It’s Barnes,” Bill said. “He’s changed his plea to guilty.”

“What?” I gasped.

“He’s also requested expedited sentencing. The DA’s all over it. The hearing is in half an hour.”

CHAPTER
11

M
y team buzzed with speculation about Barnes’s sudden reversal.

Ubi helped me into a seat near the back of the already crowded courtroom. “Man, I wish Cougar was here. He’ll die when he finds out he missed this.”

I nodded, though I felt sick inside. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. My team was jubilant, but I could muster none of their enthusiasm. Even though I knew it was crazy, I felt responsible. Barnes had pointed that gun at Angel and he’d pulled the trigger. I kept telling myself he deserved whatever he got. But what bothered me was the fact that he hadn’t pleaded guilty out of remorse.

Barnes had pleaded guilty because it was what I wanted.

I’d turned it over and over in my mind, and that was the only conclusion I could reach. I saw no possible
benefit for him to forfeit his right to a trial. I’d asked him for something I was sure he wouldn’t give me, and he’d called my bluff. What was I supposed to do now?

Barnes entered the courtroom through a side door, handcuffed and wearing an orange jumpsuit. I expected him to scan the courtroom, maybe even stare me down with a silent “So there,” but he never looked around.

Maria hurried into the room a few minutes before the trial was scheduled to begin. She shoved and stumbled past the seated spectators to get to him, and a strange silence fell over the courtroom as people stopped whatever they were doing to watch her.

“Papa!” She leaned over the barricade. “You can’t do this!”

Barnes turned toward her. “It’s already done. I’m sorry, honey.”

“It’s because
of her
, isn’t it?” she spat, and involuntarily, I slouched lower in my chair. “She did this—”

“Maria!” Barnes barked, and the bailiff placed a hand on his gun. Barnes lowered his voice. “That’s enough.”

Maria’s head dropped. Her bodyguard evicted a couple of onlookers from their chairs and sat in one. He pulled Maria down beside him, and they began an animated, hushed conversation.

“Wonder who she’s talking about?” Bill whispered, but I was too rattled to even attempt an answer.

The sentencing lasted only fifteen minutes. Barnes
declined to make a statement on his behalf, though his lawyer pointed out that he had no prior criminal convictions.

The judge sentenced Barnes to fifty-three years in federal prison, twenty years of it suspended, with the stipulation that if Angel died within a year and a day of the shooting as a direct result of his injuries, the charge would be upgraded to capital murder.