Now go and get out of your pajamas. We have a full day ahead. Oh my goodness. Have you called Trevor?”
Asia sighed. “No, but we’ve got to tell him.”
“Mimi’s coming by. Maybe I’ll get her to go to the school with me.”
“I don’t want her to come over here.”
“Asia!”
“If she and Nikki hadn’t come to Durham, Daddy would be alive.”
“It isn’t her fault. The old adage about your sins will find you out…it was your father’s time. Mimi didn’t even want to come to Durham; however, by denying Nikki to go to the school of her choice, she may have had to explain a harsh reality, and Mimi was trying to protect her. Your father has done some awful things, and if he hadn’t been trying to cover it up, he might not be lying in the morgue at Duke.”
“God, Mother, you say that like Daddy didn’t exist in your life. I remember so many good times and I can’t stand to hear you talk about him like that.”
“All right, let’s not talk about Victor in a negative light.”
Asia sighed. “I’m not ready to see Nikki’s mother. I’ll go with you to tell Trevor. Nikki needs her mother at the hospital. We can handle it.”
Brenda smiled. “Okay, baby. I’ll call Mimi and tell her not to come. I needed a friend, and she was the first person I called.”
“There will be time for that, but you’ve got me now. I’ll help you call the relatives before word hits the street and they find out that way.”
“We may not be able to stop it. I’m sure it’s already on TV blast. This may sound crazy, but it was time for a family reunion.”
“Mother, stop.” Then Asia began to laugh. “You can’t help it, I know.”
“It sounds rather absurd, but in the midst of this tragedy, I need some good ole down-home country family loving.”
Asia rolled her eyes into her head at her mother’s suggestion. “If that’s what you want.”
“That’s what I need.”
“I think you need a hot shower and a massage.”
“I need that, too.”
55
Every two feet in nice even rows, two metal desks sat pushed together so that each occupant faced each other. At each occupant’s backside, a three-foot aisle separated the next row of desks. Unlike the even neat rows, the desks were cluttered full of case files and police reports for cases not yet gone cold.
Detective Ernest Marshall picked up the cup of hot coffee from his desk, blew softly on it, took a sip, and sifted through his notes with his free hand, muttering something to his partner, Samuels, about how Victor Christianson, the suspect in a case they were working on, had eluded their dragnets for days. However, a single bullet from someone’s gun had put him out of his misery before they had a chance to get a foothold on the case. He shook his head at the thought of all the legwork he and Samuels had put in for someone to find their perp dead, stretched out near a set of railroad tracks. For sure, the case wasn’t closed.
Looking into the folder, it hit Marshall. The case was not closed because Victor Christianson had found himself at the end of killer’s handgun, and the evidence already collected was only part of a larger picture. Christianson may have shot Afrika Bailey and the real truth might go with him to his grave, but given Victor’s societal rap sheet, this case might get real ugly.
“Samuels,” Marshall called out, taking another sip of coffee, “we’ve got ourselves a mess on our hands with this Victor Christianson murder.”
“Yeah, Christianson had a long list of folks who are probably happy with his early demise,” Detective Bryan Samuels replied.
“That’s what I mean. The Afrika Bailey shooting was just the tip of the iceberg in this case. Christianson was up to his ears in alligators—hiding behind some nasty mess.”
“Why do you say that?” Samuels asked, peeking his head over the top of the day’s News and Observer.
“Only a hunch and my great intuition. I can’t get Brenda Christianson’s demeanor out of my mind when she spoke about her relationship with her husband.”
“What was that?”
“What was that…are you listening, Samuels? Put the paper down so I can see your face. Isn’t that why they placed our desks this way…so we could bounce ideas with our partners?”
Detective Samuels put the paper down on the desk, loosened his burgundy tie, pulled his body straight up in his chair, cocked his head, and stared at Detective