A Good Excuse To Be Bad (26 page)

 

A
good woman can't be both an investigative journalist and a mother without failing the other. Both took enormous amounts of time, energy, and patience. And both—whether we wanted to admit it or not—provided a private, immeasurable satisfaction that made the long hours, incessant prying, and obsessive need to know everything pleasurable enough to do it again, if the opportunity presented itself. However, being carried down a dark hallway was not one of those satisfying moments.

I could say that I knew Devon's killer days ago, but I didn't. I couldn't. There were so many variables and twists. I didn't see this coming. But now I saw things clearly, even in the dark. Actually, I saw things clearer, because Elvis was carrying me to my death.

We reached some cold room somewhere I assumed was the Biscuit Depot. I had no clue how he knocked me out or how I'd gotten here. I did know that I shouldn't have pushed Justus away. I regretted never kissing that man.

Elvis laid me on a table, checked my pulse, and walked away. I listened to his footsteps; then the door opened and closed. I couldn't quite understand why I wasn't dead yet, but I thought that maybe I had a chance to live for another day. I slivered off the table. It was too dark to figure out where I was, but I knew I shouldn't be here, and I began to suspect that we were not at the Biscuit Depot either. The kitchen was too big.

My head throbbed. I touched my forehead. It felt swollen. That fool must have hit me on the head. Since I still had that slight concussion, it wouldn't take much to knock me out.

I staggered toward the doorway. Girlfriend had no clue how to open a locked door. I scrambled and scrambled until my mind told me to just touch the knob like Justus did the night we found Devon and Ava. I did and the door opened.

I dropped to my knees and crawled toward darkness. My weak knees had me sliding around on the ground. When I finally made a decent move, I found another opening. I pulled myself up, opened the door, and slid through it before I heard Elvis's voice.

“Where are you going, Evangeline?”

I scrambled off the ground and took off. I had no clue whether I was running away from or running toward him.

I had always wanted to live in Mama's shoes, until right now. Her Prada slingbacks caught no traction on the slick carpet. I knew I shouldn't have taken them out of her luggage. They clickety-clacked and made too much noise for someone running from a hellraiser. I was running stupid, scatterbrained, and without direction. I couldn't find the exit doors to save my life, literally. I wanted to turn around to see where Elvis was, but I was too scared.

I heard footsteps. The dude was gaining on me. I huffed and tried to pick up speed. Mom was going to kill me if I didn't make it out of here alive.

Thank God for the moonlight. I saw another sliver of a doorknob to my right, caught it, slid inside, and exhaled.

Oh my gosh! I looked around. I was in Devon's office. I was in Greater Atlanta.
Are you kidding me?

I heard someone coming. I hid in Devon's coat closet and held my breath.

Deep inside, behind coats, boxes, and the night's darkness, I held my breath, but I couldn't stop breathing. Someone behind the door wanted me dead. I needed to stop breathing in order to save myself. How ironic.

While waiting and praying for a miracle, I thought about my relationship with Ava. Why did I work so hard to not be like her? For obvious reasons, I wouldn't wear her clothes. I had a problem with being in the limelight as she had done most of Devon's ministry. And I feared the possibility of falling in love again. I didn't want to admit that, but if I was on my last leg, I might as well be truthful with myself.

Justus was a great guy that my low self-esteem and lack of faith in myself had pushed away. And now I was in some obscure closet in Devon's former office. I was alone and probably going to die. I wished I could have told Justus the truth, that I cared for him, too.

If Ava were me, she would have told him that she loved him as soon as he called her into his office and asked her for a favor.

Then I heard another noise.

I would've fainted if I knew that it wouldn't get me killed. So I held my breath again, but I couldn't stop breathing—again, to save my life.

I sobbed without sniffling. There was mucus all in my nose and I thought I would drown. I wanted to wipe my nose with my sleeve, but Elvis would hear me if I did that
.

The floor creaked closer to where I hid. My heart attempted to jump out of my chest.

Granny's voice spoke to me,
“Girl, get your gun.”

I have a gun? Oh yeah. I remembered.

After I took Tiger home, I took my gun out of my purse and hid it in my waistband. I didn't want to be caught off guard again. It was the wisest decision I made tonight. I could feel her, but I couldn't find her. Where was it?

The creaking turned into footsteps. My heart bounced up my throat now. I fumbled all around my waist. Where was that little gun?

Thud.
I found it. It hit the floor just as the moon somehow found me, too.

The door opened and the moon placed his spotlight right on my head. I cursed.

“Angel, the pain in my side,” Elvis said. “You shouldn't have come in here.”

My whole body shook. There was no place to hide. I felt the floor for my gun.

The lights came on and Elvis stood in the entrance of the closet. It was a good thing this closet was a packed-to-the-gills walk-in closet. I heard him moving Devon's junk, searching for me. “We're not playing hide and seek, are we?”

Then I saw his eyes. I gasped.

He laughed. “You can't hide from me.”

When he grabbed my hand, I sucker punched him in the nose. “I wasn't hiding.”

He stumbled back. He paused, smoothed his tie over his chest, then smiled. I didn't want to think Elvis was a tad touched, but he had that crazy look in his eyes.

“Come out of this closet, please. We need to talk,” he said.

“No.” I stepped farther back in the closet. “I want to stay in here.”

He stepped forward. “We always want what we can't have. Isn't that true, Angel?”

“It depends. What do you want that you can't have?”

“I want you to not be here.”

I couldn't show fear. I had to look him in the eye and ask, despite the fact that I wouldn't be able to see what he was doing with his hands. “You brought me here. Why?”

“Cut the crap, Angel. Shall we? Let's not reenact a bad episode of
Miss Marple
.”

“Who?”

“It's a British television show.”

I shook my head. “What?”

“BBC? Oh, you wouldn't understand.” He sighed. “Let's not reenact a bad episode of
Law & Order
. Reality is much darker. Is that a better metaphor for you?”

“Yes.” My legs weakened. “But I don't watch those shows, Elvis. I watch
New Detectives,
the
First 48,
and repeats of
The Closer.
”

“That's not the blooming point. You know bloody well why you're here.”

“Because you killed my brother-in-law and Rachel.”

“What can I say?” He snickered and scratched his head. “I'm a fool in love, but you wouldn't know what that's like, now would you, especially since your non-boyfriend /pastor dimed you out?”

“If you killed Rachel, I assume you're not in love with her, which means that you're not her baby's father . . . Are you the father?”

He shook his head.

“Then who else could it be?” My mind raced. “Terry?”

“Bingo,” he sang.

“But you're in love with someone. I can tell.”

He smiled again.

I caught my breath. “You're in love with my sister.”

His clapped his hands and grinned. “Now you're on to something. I thought you would have figured it out sooner.”

“I didn't see that one coming at all. Why?”

“You should understand, since you have experience falling for someone you can't have. As I recall, the bishop was your man first.”

I shook my head. “No, he was always hers. Still is.”

“The bishop is dead now.”

“Yes, and you killed him.” Mama's spitfire surged through me now.

Elvis's face darkened, reddened, changed to something uglier than I could have ever imagined. “It was my duty to kill him, and if I recall, you've wanted him dead for a while. Is that why you came to my house, to thank me?”

His steady voice and stare scared me. I had hoped that Devon's murder was a crime of passion, but not this. Elvis had problems. I didn't think I could talk him down. My teeth chattered so hard, I bit the inside of my jaw. I winced from the pain, blinked, and the tears fell fast, which kind of relieved me. If I was going to die, I didn't want to see it coming.

His head cocked to the left. “Can you answer me? You always have a very colorful retort. Where's your smart mouth now?”

I wanted to say something smart back, but nothing made sense, except the repeating prayer to Jesus looping in my brain.

“Let me help you.” He grabbed my head and began to drag me out of the closet.

Ouch. This was the second time I had been dragged by my head in one week. Something had to give.

“What was your reason for killing Rachel?” I grunted.

He stopped and turned me over. Elvis's eyes turned colder than this room.

“What do you know, madam? You're a washed-up reporter, a sham.”

“You were siphoning funds from the Greater Atlanta Foundation, and Rachel found out about it during your fling together. How does that sound for washed-up reporting?”

“Shut up.” His voice thundered through the room. My stomach shook. I felt the gun under my thigh.

“Devon found out about what you did from Rachel. Didn't he?”

“She ratted me out, just like Justus did you.”

“So the fifty thousand was yours?”

He nodded. I looked down at his hands. They trembled.

I looked back at him. “You don't want to kill me. You didn't want to kill the others. Did you?”

“I had no choice, you see.”

“Why did you need all that money?”

“For my family. My dad was very sick. But he's fit as a fiddle now.”

Crazy
. “You don't have to do this, Elvis.”

He laughed. “I do, but don't worry. This way your sister will be free like you wanted.”

“Excuse me?”

“I'm going to kill you, then blame the whole lot on you, Angel. Ava will be released and she will be with me, as she should be.”

“Oh, you must've fallen and bumped your head if you think I will let that happen. Besides, Ava would never marry you. Are you crazy?”

“Watch your step, madam!”

“Get a life, Elvis.” I slid my gun out and pulled the trigger.

My ears popped.

My heart stopped for a second.

I stepped back, but I never took my eyes off Elvis. He fell back, clutched his shirt, and dropped to the ground. As he squirmed over the floor, gasping for air, I felt empathy for his pain. I knelt beside him and took his hand in mine.

He squeezed my hand and winced as he began coughing and wheezing. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I didn't for the man I once loved.”

“Pray for me,” he said.

I prayed and held his hand until he left.

 

 

Justus held me in his arms when Salvador's team wheeled Elvis out of the church in a body bag. I shook and my teeth chattered. I was afraid I would be carted off to jail, too. I was too broken up to be questioned, but I wasn't too broken up to apologize to Justus.

“I never killed anyone before,” I said to Justus over and over again.

“I know. I wish I'd been here to prevent it.”

“I'm sorry you weren't here.”

He kissed my forehead. “Don't be.”

“But I am and I think you should stay away from me.”

“If you had gotten sleep like you should have, you wouldn't sound so crazy.” He chuckled. “Woman, I'm not leaving you.”

“You will in about two days after all this craziness is over. It's called adrenaline romance. It's perfectly normal for you to feel this way.”

He shook his head. “You make falling in love sound like a virus.”

“You're in love with me now? When did this happen?”

“It happened the moment I saw you in that tattered cocktail dress. You looked like a broken-down Cinderella.”

“I ain't no princess, Justus. I'm definitely not a pastor's girlfriend.”

“And why not?” he asked.

“Because I've seen more evil than any good woman should have. I'll shame your pulpit.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I'm saying if you want to be an effective pastor, stay away from me.”

I stood up. He grabbed me. He leaned toward my face.

“Kissing me will not change my mind.” I knew full well that it would.

Justus lowered his face toward my ear and whispered, “Only love will do that.” He pulled back and watched me. I swooned a bit.

“I'm looking at you, and it's hard to tell the difference between you and your sister.”