I shrug, rubbing my thumb over the chipped paint on the wooden table.
Huffing, she leans back. “Noooo. I’m not a criminal attorney, Leith, but you’ve described self-defense. A video could assist in that regard, um, without you having to verbalize too much about assaulting him first.”
“Eh, nae. I’m a MacKenzie. Video or not, I’d be in the wrong. Besides, the lad’s gone for good.” I flick the pale blue paint chip onto the sidewalk.
“Still, if something were to happen, you’d have concrete proof on your side.”
“Nae.” I shake my head.
This poor lady thinks I’m a bloody nugget. But ain’t nobody finding that body—least not all of it. In the wee hours of the morning, I took a boat ride to the edge of the feckin’ earth—dropped a cement laden leg here, a cement molded arm there. Of course, the blocks weren’t identifiable. Also, Brody took a few pieces. Hands and teeth. The important shite. Those identifiable bits will be sprinkled in various parts of the desert on his next cross-country run for MacKenzie Freight Lines.
God forbid Chevelle ever finds out.
Chapter 13
Chevelle
“Out of sight out of mind” has been the driving force of my entire life. That was one of the opportunities afforded me by Lady. There was no way in hell she was spending my money on a shrink to get the past out of my head, so I did it myself. First, with the toys she bought me, next with endless video games.
Still, the image of my momma weighs vividly on my heart. She was a quiet person at times and asked for nothing. Flawless diamonds adorned her supple, black skin, but that spark never extended to her eyes. She had these soulful brown gems that radiated another sad love song. My dad was an extremely light-skinned man. He would rave about how the sun followed his love around, creating this rich, dark beauty until the day they crossed paths.
The two of them once offered me sweet dreams—or the beautiful nightmares of perceived happiness. I didn’t grow up in a house filled with shouting or domestic violence incidents. Momma kneaded Dad’s neck as he spilled over legal documents. I had a vanilla life. I lived on the pretty side of gentrification—private school in Chicago, piano class, stuff like that. I still stop my fingers from softly weaving a tune that won’t be heard.
Today, with Leith and Mia on their outing, I attend to the hops, a plant that helps beer retain its head of foam and keeps it fresher. Then I work with the lavender plants, which I plan to use for my next round of brew.
When I commenced my hobby, I purchased most of the brewing essentials on the great, infinite Zon. Next day delivery was a convenient bonus. Now, I shop at specialty stores for my brewery supplies. I buy my plants from prestigious nurseries. My green thumb and brewing skills will cater to a more refined clientele. I refuse to name my pub and brewery Mia’s Place without coming through.
Digging my hands into the rich soil, I let my mind drift. I wonder if I’m so blinded by love that I’ve neglected to see Leith drawing closer to Erika or the clan in any way? A thought enters my brain bringing me to a stop. The second it pops in my mind that he isn’t working in Silicon Valley and has taken his rightful place in the family business, I groan. “Get behind me, Satan.”
I dust my hands on my jeans and slide my cell phone from my pocket. Two weeks ago, I had a solo lunch at Kelly’s Steakhouse. It was a weekday with not many patrons, so I sat at the bar. Lonely, I made a suggestion to the bartender, who turned out to be Ophelia Kelly, the owner. One thing led to another, and she asked about my brews.
I select her number from contacts. Chewing the meat of my top lip, I await her answer. Though I have her cell phone number, catching Ophelia has been extremely difficult. But I’m a friggin housewife, so there’s not much to do but sit around and wait.
When she answers, I stifle my excitement.
“Oh, Chevelle,” Ophelia exclaims, “I apologize for not getting back to you.”
“It’s alright.”
“I’ve raved to my business partners about your APAs. Your Scotch Ale was amazing—”
As I cut in, I’m grimacing at how overly excited I am. “I just had a lot of success with a lager.”
“Tell me about the flavor profile.”
“It’s characterized with