Criminal (5 page)

DETECTIVE:
Well, that certainly helps us, Miss Dougherty. At least with a few things. Clears up what Ms. Brown told us this morning, anyway. Now, about the QT station that Mr. Pavon mentioned. Remind me when you were there?

ND:
Um. After the movies. Sometime . . . six?

DETECTIVE:
So, early in the evening, then?

ND:
Yes, sir.

DETECTIVE:
And this is the QT station by Ms. Brown's home? On Memorial Drive?

ND:
Yes, sir.

DETECTIVE:
Because see, that's another difficulty. After Mr. Pavon told us you went there on Saturday, we went by there to check out their in-store video recordings, and unfortunately during the course of the entire day on the twenty-fourth, there's absolutely no record of either you, or Ms. Brown, or
Mr. Pavon coming onto their premises.

ND:
It . . . might've been the Chevron. Or the Texaco.

DETECTIVE:
The Chevron or the Texaco?

ND:
There are a lot of places around there. Or—

DETECTIVE:
Yes?

ND:
I remember now. We got the beer when we got the chicken. Later. Because before that we were going to the movies.

DETECTIVE:
And you got the chicken at the, let's see . . . the Kroger, you said?

ND:
Yes, sir.

DETECTIVE:
You're sure?

ND:
I'm sure now. It was there.

DETECTIVE:
All right, Miss Dougherty, thank you. I have just a few more questions for you, to make sure we have it all straight. Again, we appreciate your help in this. You said, both in your statement here and when questioned by officers on the twenty-seventh, that on the morning of August twenty-fourth, Mr. Pavon went out? To the gym?

ND:
Yes, sir.

DETECTIVE:
And the name of that gym is, let's see . . .

ND:
LA Fitness, sir.

DETECTIVE:
Thank you, Miss Dougherty. So he went to LA Fitness, where he . . . has a membership?

ND:
Yes, sir.

DETECTIVE:
And he was back by, would you say, eleven? Eleven thirty?

ND:
Something like that.

DETECTIVE:
And it was after that when you went to McDonald's, and to the movies, but not the QT? I'm just trying to make sure. . . .

ND:
That's right.

DETECTIVE:
And did he go anywhere else without you that day?

ND:
No, sir. We were at Bird's the rest of the time.

DETECTIVE:
All day after he was at the gym, you were together? Did he go anywhere else on his own?

ND:
No, sir, he didn't go anywhere else. We were together the whole time.

DETECTIVE:
And you slept over at Ms. Brown's again, on Saturday night, the twenty-fourth?

ND:
Yes, sir.

DETECTIVE:
And on Sunday morning, Mr. Pavon got a call from his brother, which was when he took you with him to the police station. Is that correct?

ND:
Yes, sir.

DETECTIVE:
Did you have any idea why the police would call Mr. Pavon's house, looking for him?

ND:
No, sir, I did not.

DETECITVE:
Did you know why he would want to bring you with him?

ND:
No, sir.

DETECTIVE:
Do you know where Mr. Pavon is now?

ND:
No, sir, I really don't.

DETECTIVE:
Well, thank you, Miss Dougherty, for your help and your cooperation. If we have any more questions, we'll give you a call. And if you think of anything else—anything at all—about the night of the twenty-third or the day of the twenty-fourth, here's my card. You can phone anytime. Anytime at all.

AFTER TALKING TO THE POLICE, THE ENTIRE BUS RIDE BACK
to Bird's, my phone was in my hands, desperate to press the numbers for Dee's phone. Not being able to talk to him was starting to be almost physically painful. The only thing that kept me from it was the sense they could get your phone records and find out who had called when. Dee would be pissed if I got in touch the second I finished getting questioned by the cops. But I needed him now.
Needed
. I felt like my entire body was vibrating with fear, and it was hard to calm down. Sitting there in the station, talking to the detective, all I could think was whether or not I needed a lawyer. But I didn't ask because I didn't want to seem guilty. Or that I knew too much. Also it was too hard not to just freak out at every little thing, too hard to keep things straight. Like that business
about the QT. And them asking me about Dee's truck. How soon would it be before they were asking me more about Bird's car? And what, exactly, had they asked her this morning? What had they seen at the house? Had they talked to Dee again, like they did me? And what I'd said about where we went to eat, or what movie theater—was that going to end him up in trouble too? How bad was it, them checking the video at the QT, finding out we'd made that part up? What other videos would they be checking? How would we remember all of what we'd said?

I wanted Dee so bad. I wanted him telling me that it was going to be okay, telling me what to do next. Holding me, knowing he had put me through a lot. I wanted it back like it was on Friday night, before all this, both of us cheery and drunk, and then, after on Saturday—him so happy. And needing me as bad as I did him.

WHEN I FINALLY GOT HOME, KENYETTA WAS OVER AGAIN
watching Bird do her cousin Teesha's nails at the kitchen table. It seemed like they might stick around for dinner, which meant Bird and I wouldn't get to talk at all. But maybe that was her intention. I couldn't tell anything about her because she wouldn't look at me.

I tried going back into my room, to listen to some music or read a magazine, but I was antsy. After not too long I lifted her car keys from the hook by the door and asked Bird if it was okay if I went to get some Coke, since we were out. Did she want anything? Her mouth twitched a tiny amount. She didn't look at me when she said we could use some diapers, too.

I hadn't meant it when I asked if she needed anything, and
maybe she knew it. I ran into the Kroger, quick, and almost grabbed the wrong kind in my hurry. After that I drove toward Dee's house. I'd only been there a few times, and then only for him to run in and pick something up—I'd never even seen his parents—so I turned down a couple of wrong streets. Each time it was more frustrating. Like the longer it took me to get there, the less likely he'd answer any of my questions. About the police. About that awful letter.

It was nearly eight o'clock when I finally got there. I was only sure it was his place because his truck was in the driveway and him, sitting on the front step, talking on the phone and smoking a cigarette. He was in a tank top, with shorts loose enough around his knees that if it hadn't been almost dark, I could've seen straight up. He looked quick at my headlights, glaring. Not knowing it was me. He clicked off his phone and stood, chest a little out and shoulders back. Hands loose by his sides and arms away from his body. Tough. I turned off the headlights and then he recognized Bird's car. But he was still frowning.

“What are you doing here?” He'd gotten to the unrolled window before I even opened the door.

“I just—”

He made a mad-sounding noise. “Don't get out.” He pointed at me through the windshield as he moved around the front of the car.

“I didn't know what to do,” I told him when he got in. “They found out we were never at the QT. And so many other questions. If I can't call you, how am I going to know what to say?”

“Back out. Drive. We can't be here.”

“Dee, what did—”

“I said we can't be here. My mom, you know?” And I did know. His mom had a temper worse than his father's. Dee was always getting in fights with her. I'd heard a few on the phone. One time he had this huge bruise on his back from when she'd thrown a hair dryer at him. Which I could relate to.

“Let's just drive,” he said.

I backed out, not knowing where I was going. He pointed me along a few streets and then onto a dark road that passed by a post office. It dead ended at this science fiction–looking building surrounded by trees. There was a
FOR LEASE
sign in the grass out front. It was spooky, but at least we were alone.

“They asked me about Saturday,” I started again. “Where we went. I had to tell them.”

“What, exactly, did you say?”

“We went to the movies, like you and me said. The purple one—way out.”

“You're right—that's the one we go to.” Finally there was a little smile in his eyes, pleased with me. Proud.

“They asked me about where we ate. I said there was a
McDonald's. But I didn't exactly say we went in. Just that it was there.”

“That was smart of you.”

Relief and warmth gushed over me. But it didn't solve everything.

“Did you say anything else?” he wanted to know.

“Well, I mean, the gym. But that's where you went, so.”

I saw the muscle in the corner of his jaw bulge, once.

“Anything else?” He was staring out the windshield now, not at me.

“Well, I don't know what Bird said yet.”

His mouth was tight. “She don't know shit.”

“No. You're right. But, Dee, they had a—a letter.”

He turned to me, brows together.

I tried not to choke up.
My angel. Forever.
“It was . . . it was in your handwriting. To . . . to . . . another girl.”

He looked away again. “That's old.”

“They found it at the house. The house where . . . I mean, they were looking inside and they found it and . . .”

“I told you, that's old. She don't have nothing to do with us.”

“But Dee, it was her
dad
! I saw it on the news!”

I was trying not to make him get angry at me for bringing her up, for not trusting him, but I was so desperate for answers it was impossible to keep from raising my voice.

All he needed to do was say again that it really was over with him and her. To fold me in his arms and tell me he was sorry I was scared. That there was . . . some other reason he'd done what he did to her dad on Saturday. A coincidence. Or, like Kenyetta had said, it was just someone his gang needed to get rid of, that was all. Not anyone who had to do with him and her. And me.

Instead he grabbed the top of my arm and pulled me to him. “Listen to me. You don't need to know anything about that. That's old business. You understand? All you know is, I picked you up on Friday, we hung out, stayed together on Saturday, I took you out, treated you, and we were together on Saturday night too. Even Bird can say so.”

He looked at me, fierce, but then something in his face changed.

“I was good to you, wasn't I? Am good to you. I get you beer, weed . . . anything you want. And we had a good time that weekend, didn't we?” His eyes moved over my face, my neck, down to my boobs. When our eyes met again, I could see the full change in him. The want.

“Come on, baby,” he said. “Don't we have fun?”

“But, Dee . . . they told me . . . her name. . . .” A tear slipped down. I didn't want it to, but I couldn't help it. “It starts with an
N
too.”

I put my hand over the place where his tattoo was, and his
nostrils flared out, just briefly. Then his mouth was on mine, pressing and hot. Wet and full. Probing. Pushing me against the car door, hands up on my breasts, squeezing, lifting up, pressing in. His mouth on my neck, tongue by my ear, hot and swirling. Drawing chills up my arms and through my hips. It wasn't what I'd been looking for from him, but, as always, even against my doubt and fear, it was working.

“Dee . . .” Still, I wanted to hear it. I wanted to hear it was me and not her. The
N
was Nikki, not Nicole. But he was pulling at me now, trying to drag me across to him, and his hands were so hot. So hot, and so focused on me, my body. Me.

“Come on, baby,” he murmured, stroking up under my shirt, squeezing my belly, my sides, then moving warm and hungry up under my bra. “I want you to forget about all that. It don't have anything to do with this.” His hand slid down, finally, into my crotch, which was already pulsing.

“Let's get in the back at least,” I said, starting to crawl over.

“THEY AIN'T HAVE CO-COLA ANYWHERE?” BIRD WANTED TO
know when I finally got home. After nine.

“Turned out I needed a drive. Clear my head.”

She was leaning against the kitchen counter. Her friends were gone. I moved past her like I wanted to get a glass of water, though mostly I was moving just to move. To keep her from looking at me too square.

“Yeah, I bet,” she said quietly.

I could've asked,
What's that supposed to mean?
But she knew I knew what it meant. I stirred at the pot of collards she had simmering on the stove. I couldn't tell if she'd eaten without me or not. Most of the kitchen was spotless, which could mean one thing or another.

“Kenyetta and them leave?” I said, to say something.

She didn't answer. I changed my mind about water and went for the sweet tea in the refrigerator.

“You gonna tell me,” she said behind me, “why the cops came to my house today, wanting to know about
Denarius Pavon
. Why he was at my house, and when?”

I poured the tea slow.

“I told you they'd be here,” I finally said, not turning around. “I don't know what they want, but you know we were here.” I brought the glass to my lips, even though I wasn't sure if I could swallow.