Under Abnormal Conditions (13 page)

After that, the relationship couldn’t
recover. As much as I wanted to, I wasn’t in a position to leave.
She continued to take care of me until I was able to take care of
myself, but I could see and feel the resentment building daily. In
public, we wore the façade of any other young couple trying to get
through a tragedy. When we did split, Trey was the only person that
wasn’t surprised.

He was the only person from whom I didn’t
totally withdraw. That was only because he wouldn’t allow it. I
told him of her indiscretion right after it happened. They were
never big fans of one another and each wished the other would
mysteriously disappear from the face of the earth.

She never admitted to the affair and she
never told me to whom she was talking. Inside I would always feel
something for her, but I could never trust her again.

I turned into the coffee shop parking lot at
straight up midnight. The diner was practically empty when I went
inside. I sat down, and a tall lanky waitress came over to take my
order.

“Just coffee. Black.” I answered.

It was 12:30 before she got there, and she
offered no apology for her tardiness.

“Again, I know I came on very strong this
morning, but that is the way this business works,” she said as she
sat.

“People don’t tell you no very often do
they?” I asked.

“They do, but I usually don’t accept it.”

“Look, I appreciate the apology, but this has
been a long day. You could have done that over the phone.”

“I know but I wanted to talk to you face to
face. The news business is just as cutthroat as the football you
used to play. I have more degrees and credentials than anyone at
the station, but here I am. Do you know what my main assignment was
last week?”

“What?”

“I drove to Covington for a gumbo cook off.
The week before that it was a sewing bee out in Livingston.”

Fed up and tired, I asked, “What does all
this have to do with me?”

Putting her hand on top of mine, she squeezed
and said, “You’re story is so captivating. I’ve done my research on
you. You are a great story. The headline would read ‘Ex-cop catches
co-workers killer’. Can’t you see it?”

“No,” I answered and began searching my
pocket for change to pay for my coffee. “I don’t want any part of
this. I just want to live my life.”

“Everybody’s going to think you did it.”

“What? How can you say that?”

“Do you believe everything you read or see on
television?”

“Basically. I guess I always assumed-”

“That’s right! You assumed. You assumed that
you are being spoon fed the truth by an anchorwoman with fake
breasts and an anchorman with a nose job and a toupee.”

Even though I had never really thought about
it, she was right, but I would have rather been in bed than talking
journalism with a bitter wannabe television reporter.

“I hope you don’t believe all of those feel
good human interest stories you see. They’re all bullshit, you
know.”

I was surprised that a woman who spoke so
eloquently would go to that level. I was a little disappointed.

“What does any of this have to do with
me?”

“Your story is what I need to push me over
the top.”

“Look lady, I’m tired, and I guess I’m not
making myself clear. What does that have to do with me?”

“Everything. I want to help you.”

“And in helping me, you help yourself. Is
that it?”

“If you want to put it that way. With the
right spin, you can come out of this as a hero.”

“And what do you get?”

“My story and my ticket out.”

“Is that all that matters to you?”

“What? Do you what me to feel sorry for . .
.”

“Sherry Allen. Her name was Sherry Allen.” I
said as I pulled my hand from hers.

“Yes, that was her name, but she’s dead now.
There is nothing we can do about it sitting here. If we can get to
the bottom of this-”

“I am not a cop anymore, and neither are you.
What are you thinking?” I was wound up as tight as a New Year’s Eve
clock.

“I’m thinking you are the key to the whole
case. Why can’t you understand that?” she paused and looked at me
quizzically. “Why didn’t he kill you too?”

“You don’t think that question has tortured
me since all this happened.” I tossed two dollars on the table and
said, “You’re lucky he didn’t or you wouldn’t have a story.” I
stormed away and could hear her calling out to me as the doors shut
behind me.

Chapter 18

Sharon Bryant was a real piece of work. I
wondered if she was as tenacious in her personal life. As driven as
she seemed to be, she probably didn’t have much of one. I wished
she could have been trusted. A person like that could be your best
friend or worst enemy. All I was to her was a story, but my life
was worth more than just words on a page. She would never have been
more than one step from selling my soul if it meant furthering her
career. As it stood, I doubted the people in my life that were
close to me, so I would have been a fool to believe in a woman who
had just blown into my life like a powerful wind.

The house was completely dark when I pulled
into the driveway. The entire time I lived there, including when my
grandparents were alive, I was never afraid of my home. I began to
worry and I thought to myself, “Was a man’s home truly his home
when he didn’t even feel safe there.”

As I exited the car, I noticed how quiet
everything was. There weren’t the usual sounds that defined the
neighborhood. There weren’t any cars with stereo equipment that
costs more than the vehicle thundering down the street. There were
no idle minds exploring the streets for their next hit or
hookup.

It was like the calm that always came to
prepare you for the storm that was waiting around the next corner.
I unlocked the door and stepped inside.

I tried to flick on the foyer light but
nothing happened. There was a flashlight in the kitchen cabinet so
that was where I was headed. I felt along the edge of the wall
until I reached the steps leading to the kitchen.

Everything was going fine until I heard
something break. I didn’t know if it was a glass or a plate, but
the shattering sound filled the quiet room. Not only was someone in
the house, they were in that room. I backed myself in the corner
and waited for the next sound.

Nothing.

I tried to focus but with no light inside or
outside, the room was engulfed in darkness. Fear was ready to
overtake me just as the darkness had when I called out for my
cousin.

“Ricky?” I said softly.

No one answered.

Then I heard what I knew were footsteps. I
tried to calm myself by thinking whoever it was couldn’t see me
either.

My heart beat faster and faster as the
footsteps neared. From behind I heard something else. Someone else
was stirring in the kitchen.

There were two of them.

I heard the footsteps of the other man as he
approached. He stopped when he reached the stairs that lead to the
foyer. There was one in front of me and one beside me. I had
nowhere to go. I crouched down and waited for one of them to make
their move.

The man in the doorway next to me started to
move forward again, so I headed for the front door. I figured if I
could get them outside, maybe I could get a look at him. I ran into
the first man next to the door. We fell against the door and I
grabbed him by the neck.

He pounded on my wrist to try and make me
release him, but his body was becoming weak and it wouldn’t have
taken me long to overpower him. Before I could finish him, I heard
the other man running towards us. He threw his body into me like a
football tackle and he and I fell to the floor, but before I let go
I grabbed at the first man and was able to snag an earring. I
wouldn’t have known what I grabbed, but he cursed in pain before
opening the door and running outside.

I sprang to my feet as well as I could to
start after him. Just as I was getting started, I tripped over
something soft and lumpy.

The first man was gone but I fought until I
pinned the second on the floor. With my knees I had his shoulders
on the ground. I searched for anything to use as a weapon. Before I
could find anything, he kneed me in the small of the back. I fell
off to the side and rolled up to my feet.

The only thing I could hear was the heavy
breathing of my assailant and myself. I cautiously felt the air
around me hoping to gain the upper hand on him.

Just then I heard a loud bang and then a low
hum. The lights flicked a few times and then flashed on. I had been
wrestling with Ricky. He fell to his knees and I ran for the
door.

The streetlights flashed on like dominoes
falling down the street, but I couldn’t see anyone. Whoever it was
had gone. I closed and locked the door behind me.

Ricky was laying spread eagle flat on his
back straining for air. “Are you crazy!” he said in a barely
audible whisper.

“How long had the lights been out?”

“Just a few minutes. I heard something break
and I walked in there. I didn’t know what was going on.”

I walked over and helped him up. He followed
me to the kitchen and sat down at the table. I leaned against the
kitchen counter. Ten minutes later, he broke the silence.

“I was really going to kill you,” he said
with a mournful tone.

“You didn’t know.”

“Does that matter? I didn’t think I had it in
me, you know, to take another life? But when I kicked you off of
me, all I could think about was getting away. Whatever I had to do
I had to get away.”

“So you didn’t get a look at him either?” I
asked.

“No. I couldn’t really see anything but two
people fighting. I figured one of them was you, but I didn’t know
which one. I screwed things up again, huh?”

I looked down at my hand. There was a small
amount of blood and a hoop earring. “He left a little something
behind,” I said showing him my trophy.

“You going to call the police?”

“I don’t think so. They can’t help me. You
were right. If they can pin Sherry’s murder on me they will. This
is something I’m going to have to do on my own. I did pick up a few
things from my old man.”

“Is it that crucial? You are going to try and
figure out who broke into the house. I don’t think he took
anything.” he said as if I had lost my mind.

“No, I’m talking about the murder. Someone
has something to hide. That has to be why they broke in here. Look
around, there’s nothing to steal. They set everything up and made
it look like I murdered Sherry. I wouldn’t be surprised if he
didn’t break in here to plant something.”

“After what happened with Michelle . . .”

“What about this afternoon?” I asked to
change the subject.

“What?”

I grabbed a glass from the cabinet and went
to the refrigerator. I tried to pour a glass of water but I forgot
the container was empty.

“You don’t remember this afternoon?” I
asked.

“Oh, I . . .” he covered his mouth. After a
second or two, I could see tears running down his face. I didn’t
expect that reaction at all. He was not the type to show much
emotion for anyone including himself.

When we were kids he could stare straight
into our parent’s faces and lie as if there was no consequence. The
lies always excluded him from the actual trouble making. He seemed
to come into it at the very end. Just in time to get in trouble. He
was only guilty of having bad timing.

“How long have you been drinking like that?”
I asked

“I don’t know,” he mumbled through his hand
and shrugged his shoulders. “One day I started and I haven’t
stopped. There’s no reason to stop.”

“I had no idea. Does your family know?”

“They should. You know we have more drunks in
our family than an AA meeting. I’m just following my lineage.” he
said, raising his hand as if he were about to toast someone.“You
don’t have to say it. I’m going to leave first thing in the
morning.”

I could see concern in his eyes. He was
afraid for himself earlier, but now he felt worry for me.

“Where are you going to go?”

“Cali maybe? I don’t know. I can’t go back
home and I’m running out of friends fast.”

“You don’t have to go.” I said. I saw the
words as they left my mouth, but it was too late to try and
retrieve them.

“Really?” his eyes lit up, but in his heart
he knew he couldn’t stay. “I wish I could but I’ve put you out so
much already.” His eyes said he wanted to accept the invitation.
“No, no, I can’t do it. It’s not just my life. It’s yours and your
family. I couldn’t do that to you. You have always been the one to
take care of us. Always. I guess that is why I came here; I know
this has got to stop. I need to do this on my own.”

I was proud of him and afraid for him all at
the same time. We hugged and he went to his bedroom to start
packing. I immediately went to the telephone to call Trey.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Can you bring the car?”

“When?” his tired and exasperated voice
asked.

“Anytime tonight. He’s going to try and make
an early morning get away.”

“Where is he going to stay?” he asked
feigning concern.

“He doesn’t know. Anywhere but here.” I
answered.

“He too fat to run forever,” he joked.

“Just leave the keys in it and ring the bell.
I’ll take you back home.”

“No big deal. I’ll get Big Time to follow me
there and bring me back.”

“Big Time?” I questioned.

“Alex. He said his agent wanted him to have a
big time nickname so . . .”

“He gave himself a nickname?”

“Everybody has to start somewhere. I read
that Babe Ruth gave himself his nickname.”

“Really?”

“No, but that’s what I told Alex. What
happened with the police?”