Chapter 40
Fiona
Fiona was sweating bullets as she drove home that afternoon.
A man from the district attorney’s office had called her while she was at the barber shop, tightening up a customer’s fade. He’d introduced himself as Cal Hartwig and explained to her that he was preparing to bring murder charges against Dominic Archer, but first he wanted to ask her some questions about her estranged father.
Fiona had panicked.
If the prosecutor had connected Sonny Powell to Isabel Archer, then it was only a matter of time before the trail would lead right to Fiona.
She couldn’t allow that to happen.
After promising to return the man’s call when she got off from work, she’d finished the rest of her appointments, then bounced.
Twenty minutes later, she whipped into her driveway and hopped out of her SUV while it was still rocking. Although it was sixty degrees outside, sweat dampened her forehead, and her armpits were soaked beneath her sweater.
Heart pounding, she burst through the front door and raced to her bedroom. She grabbed a large suitcase from the closet and tossed it down on the bed, then hurriedly began throwing clothes inside.
Ever since Tamia threatened to turn her in to the police, Fiona had been preparing herself for the day she’d have to skip town. She’d been stockpiling her earnings and the generous tips she received from her clients, so she had more than enough money to set herself up nicely wherever she wound up.
She had no intention of going back to prison. So she had no choice but to flee.
Satisfied that she’d packed enough clothes to last her at least three weeks, Fiona snapped the suitcase shut, hoisted it off the bed, and started across the room.
But just as she reached the doorway, she heard a sound.
The soft scrape of a boot against the hardwood floor.
She froze, the fine hairs rising on the back of her neck.
Someone was inside the house.
Swallowing hard, Fiona moved backward, retreating from the door even as the intruder’s footsteps drew nearer.
Then suddenly a tall, dark figure filled the doorway.
And Fiona found herself staring into the face of the man she thought she’d never see again.
“Going somewhere?” Sonny Powell drawled, one arm behind his back.
Shaking with fear and dread, Fiona whispered, “Daddy?”
A slow, sinister grin cut across his face, which was as handsome as she remembered. Thick eyebrows, high cheekbones, a strong nose that whispered of some distant Native American ancestry.
“Didn’t I tell you I’d come back for you someday?”
Fiona nodded slowly, remembering the malevolent presence she’d sensed that night in the cemetery, followed by the eerie phone call she’d received.
Guilty
, the voice had whispered.
She’d dismissed the call as a prank, but deep down inside, she’d known that her day of reckoning was near.
Sonny stepped into the room, his dark eyes searching her face. “Do you know why I’m here, baby girl?”
She gulped a shaky breath but didn’t respond.
“I loved her.”
Fiona remained mutinously silent.
Her father crept closer. “Did you hear what I said? I
loved
her, and you took her away from me.”
Disregarding his words, Fiona beamed at him. “What’re you hiding behind your back, Daddy? Did you bring me a present?”
His face hardened.
“No present,” he said very softly. “Not this time.”
As Fiona watched, he brought his arm from behind his back and pointed a gun at her.
The blood drained from her head. “Daddy ... ?”
“Call your sister.”
Fiona eyed him fearfully. “Why?”
A cold, narrow smile curved Sonny’s mouth. “We’re gonna have a family reunion.”
Chapter 41
Tamia
“Thanks for dropping everything to have lunch with me,” Tamia said to Shanell that afternoon.
The two friends sat inside the cozy warmth of Tamia’s car, which was parked at the curb in front of Shanell’s one-story stucco house.
Shanell waved a dismissive hand. “Girl, please.
I
should be thanking
you
for getting me out of the house for a few hours. I love Mark’s family, but having them here for Thanksgiving has stressed me the hell out. I’ve lost count of how many children his siblings have.”
Tamia chuckled. “Do they still harass you and Mark about starting your own family?”
Shanell snorted. “You know they do. But I’ve learned to tune them out. When God says it’s time for me and my husband to become parents, I’ll get pregnant. Besides, the more I’m around Mark’s nieces and nephews, the more I appreciate my clean, peaceful home.”
The two women laughed.
“Anyway,” Shanell continued, “I enjoyed catching up with you and hearing all about Italy. You and Brandon had such an amazing time together. Sounded like a honeymoon.”
Tamia sighed. “I wish.”
Prior to Gwen Chambers’s visit, she’d been optimistic about her future with Brandon. But now that she realized his parents would never accept her, she wasn’t feeling so hopeful anymore. And she couldn’t help but wonder if there’d been a grain of truth to the things Gwen had told her.
Was
she just a novelty to Brandon? Would he and Cynthia already be married if he hadn’t been preoccupied with Tamia’s trial?
Observing her troubled expression, Shanell gently probed, “Are you sure there’s nothing else you want to tell me?”
Tamia met her friend’s speculative gaze. After her confrontation with Brandon’s mother, she’d been so upset that she’d called Shanell to vent. But Shanell had been busy with her houseguests. By the time she returned Tamia’s call, Tamia had decided not to say a word about Gwen’s bribery attempt. She was too humiliated, for starters. And she was just paranoid enough to believe that Gwen had her phone tapped.
She smiled wanly at Shanell. “There’s nothing else. I’m just trying to take things one day at a time with Brandon. Italy was a dream, but now it’s back to reality, and the reality is that we still have a lot of issues to overcome.”
“True. But if you love each other, you can overcome anything.” When Tamia was silent, Shanell leaned over and hugged her. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
Tamia just smiled, wishing she shared her friend’s optimism.
After dropping Shanell off, she was on her way back to Brandon’s condo when her cell phone rang. Even before she checked the caller ID, she knew who was calling. She’d been expecting to hear from her sister ever since she’d awakened from the dream.
As she reluctantly answered the phone, Mama Esther’s admonition whispered through her mind.
Your sister needs you. So when the time comes for you to go to her, don’t hesitate.
“What is it, Fiona?” she asked without preamble.
“I know you told me not to call you anymore,” her sister said tremulously. “But I need to talk to you, Tam-Tam. It’s important.”
Trouble’s coming.... The kind that’s been coming for years.
Tamia swallowed nervously. “Is everything okay, Fee?”
Her sister paused for a long moment. “I’d rather talk to you in person.”
“I’m on my way.”
Fifteen minutes later, Tamia pulled into the driveway behind Fiona’s SUV and cut the ignition.
As she surveyed the white shotgun house, nothing seemed out of place. Yet she felt a sense of foreboding that made her pick up her cell phone and call Brandon.
“Hey, it’s me,” she told his voice mail. “I’m meeting Fiona at our old house, so I’ll be running late for dinner.” She paused. “If I’m more than an hour late and you can’t reach me ... call the police.”
After shoving her phone into her back pocket, Tamia climbed out of the car and slowly walked up to the house. When she reached the front door, she turned and glanced up and down the silent, shadowy street. She could remember a time, not long ago, when the neighbors had congregated on their porches every night to gossip, play cards, and watch the comings and goings of others. Now it seemed that most people preferred to remain indoors, isolated from one another.
Drawing a deep breath, Tamia turned around and twisted the doorknob, her nerves tightening when she discovered that it was unlocked.
She hesitated, then cautiously entered the house.
Moments later, she let out a shocked gasp.
Fiona was strapped to a chair in the living room, her arms and legs bound with wire, her mouth sealed with duct tape. Her eyes were wide with terror.
“Oh, my God!” Tamia cried out, rushing to her sister’s side. “Who did this to—”
“Hello, Tamia. So glad you could join us.”
Tamia whipped her head toward the voice.
Her blood ran cold at the sight of Sonny Powell sauntering casually into the living room.
He had a gun pointed right at her.
Fear pulsed through Tamia’s veins.“W-What are you doing here?” she whispered faintly.
A grim parody of a smile twisted Sonny’s mouth. “As I told your sister, I thought we were long overdue for a family reunion.”
Memories assailed Tamia. The terrifying roar of his voice as he shouted curses at her mother. The sound of flesh striking flesh as he punched Lorraine, his rage untempered by her shrill screams and pleas. The heavy thud of his boots against the floor as he stormed out of the house, disappearing for days at a time.
Although he’d rarely struck Tamia or Fiona, the violence he’d unleashed upon their mother had been damaging enough to leave the two sisters permanently scarred.
He looked Tamia up and down, his eyes glinting with appreciation. “Lorraine wasn’t much of a cook or housekeeper, but she sure knew how to make some beautiful babies.”
Tamia swallowed tightly as nausea crawled up the back of her throat. “Why are you here, Sonny? What do you want?”
“I want justice.”
“For who?”
He met her gaze unblinkingly. “Isabel Archer.”
Tamia’s heart pounded into her throat. “I didn’t kill Isabel.”
“I know.” Sonny looked past her to Fiona. “Your sister did. And you let her get away with it, so that makes you just as guilty.”
Exchanging troubled glances with Fiona, Tamia nervously licked her dry lips. “I don’t understand. What does Isabel’s death have to do with you?”
Sonny’s gaze returned to hers. “I was in love with her.”
It was the
last
thing Tamia had expected him to say.
Stunned, she gaped at him for several moments before whispering, “But ... Isabel was married.”
“To a worthless motherfucker who didn’t appreciate what a good woman she was.” Sonny smirked. “But I don’t have to tell you that.
You’re
part of the reason Isabel was leaving Dominic. Which is a damn shame. I know your grandmother didn’t raise you to be no home-wrecker.”
Tamia didn’t respond. Her mind was reeling as she struggled to comprehend what he was telling her. “So you and
Isabel
were having an affair?”
“It didn’t start off that way. Believe me, she tried her damnedest to honor her vows and make her sham of a marriage work.” Sonny paused, frowning suspiciously at Tamia. “You’re standing too damn close to your sister.”
As Tamia edged away from Fiona, he gestured to the sofa with the barrel of his gun. “Just sit the fuck down.”
She obeyed without hesitation.
“I’ve been back in Houston for over a year,” he continued once she was seated, perched tensely on the edge of the sofa. “You don’t need to know where I was before that, or what I was doing. All you need to know is that I was laying low, trying to keep myself out of trouble.” His lips twisted sardonically. “Your mama always said that trouble followed me wherever I went. So I was determined to prove her wrong. But times were hard. When I came back to Houston last year, I had to stay in a shelter until I could find a job and get back on my feet. Isabel was volunteering there, and that’s how we met. She helped me find a construction job, and unlike most rich motherfuckers who only do charity work to make themselves feel good, Isabel actually gave a damn about me as a person.”
He glared accusingly at Fiona. “She was a good woman. She didn’t deserve what you did to her.”
Fiona made a whimpering noise behind the strip of duct tape plastered across her mouth.
“Wait a minute.” Tamia stared at her sister, struck by a horrifying realization. “Did you know who Isabel was before I told you about her?”
Tears welled in Fiona’s eyes.
“Of course she knew,” Sonny jeered, stalking over to Fiona and viciously ripping the tape off her mouth. “She went to Isabel’s house that night to kill her!”
“Oh, my God.” The blood drained from Tamia’s head, even as she shook it in denial. “That can’t be true. You told me it was an accident, Fiona!”
When Fiona said nothing, Sonny pressed the barrel of the gun to her temple. “Tell your sister the fucking truth.
Tell her!
”
“ALL RIGHT!” Fiona exploded, spittle flying from her mouth. “It’s true! I killed that bitch on purpose!”
Tamia gasped sharply, staring at her sister with shock and horror. “Why, Fiona? Why’d you do it?”
“Because I hated her!”
Fiona screamed, her face contorted with outraged fury as she glared at her father. “She had the nerve to visit me one day while I was locked up. Did you know that? She said she was a close friend of yours, and she was concerned about you because you hadn’t forgiven yourself for not being a good father. She wanted to know whether I was willing to reconcile with you. When I asked her how the fuck that was any of her business, she said she loved you, and she wanted you to be happy.” Fiona’s tone hardened with bitter accusation. “You told a complete stranger about me, Daddy, but you didn’t even care enough to come see me yourself! You’ve
never
wanted me or loved me, but you loved
her
!”
“So you killed Isabel so I couldn’t have her?” Sonny demanded furiously.
“Yes!”
Fiona sneered at him, heedless of the revolver pressed to her temple. “The stupid bitch thought I came over to talk about you. When I pulled my gun out, she got scared and tried to run. But she never stood a fucking chance.”
Tamia stared at Fiona, chilled by her words and the cold, calculating gleam in her eyes. How could she not have known the extent of her sister’s mental illness? Her depravity? How could she have missed all the warning signs?
How?
“I don’t believe this,” Tamia whispered, shaking her head at Fiona. “It wasn’t an accident. You didn’t panic because Isabel threatened to call the police. You went over there to kill her, knowing that I was supposed to meet her that very same night. You murdered her, and you deliberately let me take the fall for it. How could you, Fiona?
How could you?
”
Her sister’s gaze was disturbingly calm. “I knew you wouldn’t be convicted—”
“Bullshit!”
Tamia raged. “You knew no such thing!
No one
knew how the trial was going to turn out! I could have been convicted and sent to prison for the rest of my life. I could have gotten the
death penalty
, Fiona! But you didn’t give a shit! All you cared about was getting rid of an innocent woman who never did a damn thing to you. I hope you rot in
hell
for what you did to Isabel!”
“Because that’s where I belong, right?” Fiona spat, her eyes flashing with bitter resentment. “I’ve always been the fuckup, the black sheep in a family full of black sheep. Mama never expected me to amount to anything, so she never bothered to encourage my dreams.
You
always thought you were smarter than me just because you went to college, even though you whored yourself out to pay your fucking tuition. You thought you were better than me just because you snagged yourself a rich boyfriend while I was still running around with broke hood rats. When I got in trouble with Marquis, you
never
let me forget what a stupid mistake I’d made by trusting him. You threw that shit back in my face every chance you got—”
“I did not!”
“Did, too! As I recall, I had to check your ass about it earlier this year. So I considered it poetic justice when
you
turned around and got yourself caught up with Dominic’s mess.”
“Oh, my God,” Tamia breathed, eyeing her sister incredulously. “So
that’s
why you set me up? To get back at me for
criticizing
you?”
Fiona smirked at her. “You know what they say. What goes around, comes around.”
Tamia felt sick to her stomach. “You need help.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Sonny interjected darkly.