Twist of Fate (22 page)

"You try to pull me away, but you've gotten too close.

I'm bigger than you and a lot meaner, so I slug you in the jaw. You reel back and before you can go for your weapon, I pull out my fancy European handgun." Rob whipped out a purple plastic water pistol from the small of his back, where it had been concealed by his jacket. "I blast you in the head at point-blank range, and you fall to the ground."

Miming shock and horror, Kendra dropped onto the narrow edging of lawn. Rob aimed the empty water pistol into the grass, unable to point even a toy weapon at another human.
"Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!"

Heavy silence fell, along with aching awareness that a young man had died here, a victim of casual, meaningless violence. A hole had been left in the lives of everyone who knew him. Complete strangers had mourned the loss of a brave man who had sought to serve and protect. Kendra and her son's lives had been changed irrevocably.

The silence was broken by a husky voice saying, "Then you ran back into the alley, swearing."

Chapter 16

Startled, Val glanced up from her spot on the grass to see a white-haired man smoking a pipe on the porch of the right-hand house. "You know what we're doing?"

The man exhaled a mouthful of aromatic apple smoke. "You're acting out the Malloy murder."

Val got to her feet, brushing off her full skirt. "If you lived here then, did you see something?" The police files hadn't mentioned that a neighbor saw the shooting.

"I heard a scream and came out just as the first bullet was fired, so I ducked back into the house and called 911. All I said was that I heard shots. I didn't want to get involved, so I told myself that I hadn't seen enough to tell the police anything useful." The man drew on the pipe again. "Now I'm kinda sorry I didn't speak up."

"But you heard him swearing and saw which way the shooter ran?" Rob asked.

"I could hear his voice through an open window, and I saw him run off, but I was looking through curtains so I couldn't see much except the direction he was moving." His gaze moved to the cracked asphalt of the alley. "In all the years since, I've never once come or gone from the house without thinking of what happened here."

"How do you stand it?" Kendra asked softly.

The old man sighed. "You can get used to anything. What are you all up to? Odd sort of thing to do for fun."

"I'm the lawyer representing the man who was convicted of the murder," Val explained. "We're investigating his possible innocence, so we're walking through the crime to get a better feel for what happened. You say the killer ran back into the cross alley. Did you have any sense of his build, or the way he moved?"

"Tall. Broad. Probably young because he sure moved fast. As I said, nothing useful." He gestured with the stem of his pipe. "Once the killer ran back there, he could continue straight across to the next block, or turn north or south behind the houses. By the time the police arrived, he could have been anywhere."

Rob asked, "Did you see the two men who were witnesses?"

"Nope." He pointed the pipe stem again, down the street to the left. "They were supposed to be down there."

Noting the wording, Val asked, "Did you have any reason to doubt their claims?"

The older man snorted. "They were a couple of useless troublemakers who were regulars at a crack house round the corner. When they testified at the trial, the prosecutor made 'em both out to be Boy Scouts, but they weren't. I wouldn't believe either of 'em if they said the sun rises in the east."

"You're saying they were unreliable witnesses?" Val asked, interest quickening.

"Yeah, but no one asked my opinion." The old man emptied the charred embers of his pipe into an ashtray on the railing. "I don't know any more now than I did then. But whoever killed Malloy deserves to die." With that, he went inside.

Rob looked at his notes with a frown. "The report implies that one of the policemen recognized Daniel from the description so they went right to the apartment, but the report is ambiguously written. Maybe it wasn't a policeman who originally fingered him."

Guessing where his thoughts were going, Val said, "Do you think one of those helpful eyewitnesses could have suggested Daniel? I'm using my imagination here, but what if they recognized the shooter as some kind of buddy of theirs? To cover for him, they might have decided to throw blame on Daniel. It would be easy to stick to the story if they agreed on the details in advance."

"Your theory would explain a lot," Rob said thoughtfully. "Assume that Brenda Harris was mistaken, which is very possible given the circumstances. If she was wrong, and the other two witnesses colluded in a lie, the whole case against Daniel collapses. But how the heck can we prove it with Darrell Long dead and Joe Cady vanished?"

"Maybe I can help with Cady." Kendra gazed along the darkening street. "If the guys were down there, they couldn't see much unless there were no cars parked along the street, and in row house neighborhoods like this, there are always cars parked."

"Val, come with me. I want to see how much was visible from there."

Silently Val took Rob's hand and they crossed to the second house from the end. The reenactment was depressing her, and she felt better touching him. When they reached the right spot, Rob turned and looked back at Kendra. "In this light and with the cars in the way, it's almost impossible to see any detail."

"I can't see anything," Val said. "I wonder how tall Long and Cady were?"

"Taller than you." Rob caught her around the knees, boosting her up so she was perched on his shoulder.

She clutched at head and arms, both alarmed and amused. He knew how to sweep a girl off her feet. "Even this high, I can't see much except that someone's standing there. Since Kendra is wearing slacks, I couldn't even swear to the gender. Hard to believe those two crack-heads saw much of anything."

"I suppose they might have recognized the shooter by the way he moved or dressed." Carefully Rob set Val back on the pavement. "But no way did they see his face clearly."

Val frowned as they rejoined Kendra. "We need a lot more than the possibility they were lying to get Daniel off. Has inspiration struck about finding Joe Cady?"

"I know someone who might know where Cady is. Care to have dinner at a soul food bistro?" Kendra smiled a little. "Even if I'm wrong, you'll get the best smothered pork chops and peach cobbler in Baltimore."

"It's a deal," Rob said. "Where is the restaurant?"

"On the west side. I'll take you in my car," Kendra said. "Your pickup would be tight for three, and Val, you do not want to take your Lexus into this neighborhood."

"Okay, you drive and I'll pick up the check. Now that I'm becoming self-employed, I'm up for deducting everything I can find."

"Deducting all possible expenses is the first rule of self- employment," Rob said as he slung his arm around her shoulders. "It took me years to remember that after I started my business."

As the three of them walked back to the shopping center where the cars were parked, Val burrowed as close to his side as she could get and still manage to walk. The reenactment had given them more information and theories, but gloomily she recognized that they were no closer to saving Daniel Monroe.

∗ ∗ ∗

All three of them were silent as Kendra drove to West Baltimore. For her, the visit to her old home had stirred up memories both bittersweet and angry.

She had mostly kept her fury under control since Daniel's arrest and conviction. A single mother struggling to better herself and care for her child couldn't afford to waste energy on anger. But her rage at the injustice still burned, scalding hot, at the bottom of her soul.

She was glad to find a street parking spot only a block and a half from the restaurant. Though the neighborhood had improved in recent years, suburbia it wasn't. As they climbed from the car, Val surveyed their surroundings. "You're right. I don't want to bring my Lexus into this neighborhood."

"It isn't as bad as it looks." Kendra locked the car doors. "The city has put a lot of money into this area and new businesses are opening now that most of the drug dealing has been shut down. Not the sort of place where partners of Crouse, Resnick are usually found, though." She was glad to be with Rob. No smart mugger would tackle a group that included him. Once a Marine, always a Marine.

Though the sun had set, the air was still oppressively hot. Summertime in the city. When she was a kid, nights like this she and her parents would sit on the marble front steps of the house, enjoying the occasional breath of cool air and chatting lazily with neighbors. She had been too young to realize that she was living the good old days.

The restaurant, Soul Survivors, was in an old row house next to a small storefront church with a very long name. The restaurant seemed larger inside than it looked from the street, with exposed brick walls and colorful primitive paintings of Southern life. Kendra breathed in the wickedly tempting scents of a soul food kitchen. She'd kept her distance from the restaurant for a long time, and it was good to be back. "This place smells like my grandmother's house."

As always on a Saturday night, the dining room was packed. Below the chattering voices a lazy piano could be heard playing classic jazz. Kendra was amused to observe Val, who was absorbing every detail while doing her best not to look as if she was gawking. Apart from her and Rob, there was only one other white couple, and actually, they were kind of brown. For a liberal, Val hadn't seen enough of life.

A hostess dressed in colorful African cotton approached. "Welcome. The dining room is full, but if you want dinner, there's a table downstairs."

"Perfect." Kendra followed the hostess to the narrow stairway that descended to the bistro, a cozy, low-ceilinged room with more exposed brick and a performance area at the far end. On the shallow dais, a white-haired man played honey-sweet jazz piano, music soft enough to allow thought, seductive enough to reward closer listening.

When they were seated, Kendra asked the hostess, "Would you ask Luke to stop by when we get to coffee and dessert? Tell him it's Kendra Brooks."

The hostess nodded and left. As Val studied her menu, Kendra said, "Don't try to eat healthy here, Val. Nothing on this menu is intended to be healthy."

"I noticed." Val grinned at the specials of the day. "I eat rabbit food regularly so I can indulge now and then. Bring on the smothered pork chops!"

The food was as good as Kendra remembered, simple but perfectly prepared traditional Southern cooking. All three of them attacked it with gusto, right down to the peach cobbler with rich homemade ice cream. It was hard to be angry when you'd just eaten an orgasmic dessert.

They were working on second cups of coffee and Val had paid the check, but still no Luke. Kendra was beginning to wonder if he wouldn't speak to her when a tall, broad-shouldered man picked his way between the closely-spaced tables. As always she was struck by how much Luke resembled Daniel though they were only half brothers.

There was no pleasure in his face at seeing her. She got to her feet warily. "It's good to see you, Luke. Pull up a chair and sit for a spell."

His eyes narrowed. "It's been a long time."

"Too long."

"Whose fault is that?" His deep voice was also like Daniel's. "Have you ever told that boy of yours who his real father is? Or is he still an ignorant bastard?"

Good old Luke. Kendra was tempted to slug him, but she controlled the impulse. "Watch who you call bastard, Luke. If your parents were married, this is the first I've heard of it. You know why I didn't tell Jason. Do you think he would have been better off knowing his real daddy was convicted of murder?"

"If there's one thing I learned in rehab, it's that honesty is essential."

"In principle, maybe, but it's already hard to raise a black boy in this city. I didn't want to make things worse. Jason has always been a great kid, but other great kids have been lost to the streets."

Luke grimaced. Like Daniel, he was always fair-minded. "You got a point there, but he's my nephew, Kendra. I want to get to know him."

Her voice softened. "Someday, Luke. But if he ever met you, all he'd have to do is look in the mirror to start wondering about his daddy, and start asking questions Phil and I didn't want to answer."

"When will
someday
come?"

Kendra had thought about this over the years. "When he's twenty-one. I swear I'll tell him, Luke. And...I appreciate that you've respected my wishes on this and not contacted Jason directly."

"It was Daniel's wishes I respected." His expression eased. "I guess your way worked since the boy's at the Air Force Academy. I didn't think much of officers when I was a grunt in Vietnam, but now the academy sounds good. You must be proud of him."

"I am, and so is Daniel." She grinned. "Since we haven't hit each other, will you sit down now? These are my friends Val Covington and Rob Smith. Val and Rob, meet Luke Wilson, Daniel's brother, who runs this fine establishment with his wife, Angel."

Rob stood to shake hands. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Wilson. That's a strong resemblance to your brother."