Of Things Unseen Page 24

  He had walked through downtown and seen men digging through garbage cans for discarded food and he pitied them, always offering whatever loose cash or change he had on him. He understood because he was just like them. Anyone could afford to be cavalier about meals when he never had worry about whether or not he would eat, or where the food would come from. But a man who hadn’t eaten in days, who was desperate for relief? That man was dangerous because he would do anything to fill his belly.

  Unfortunately for the police and the pretty young ladies on the Eastside, he was hungry.

  Chapter 31

  HE WASN’T SUPPOSED to drink on duty but Barrington went ahead and accepted a beer from Mr. Harwell anyway. It was the right thing to do under the circumstances. “Detective, here’s to you and all of your hard work,” said Mr. Harwell as he held his can of Budweiser in the air. Barrington obliged and the two men drank in silence on the front porch. He didn’t have the heart to tell him he wasn’t involved in the arrest.

  There had been several visitors to the house. Emotions were mixed, of course. They were happy about the arrest as any loved one would be, but they were also weighed down. There would likely be a trial, then a sentencing, and then the monster who hurt their baby would go away. Afterward, they would realize that they had to try to live and find a new normal, one where they were missing a part of themselves, and it would be the hardest thing they would ever have to do.

  An older woman came outside and asked if they wanted a plate. The men declined, already stuffed. Inside the house, there were deviled eggs, Cornish hen, barbecue ribs, both beef and pork, fried catfish and spaghetti, oxtails, chicken fried steak, collards, cabbage, candied yams, parker house rolls, cornbread and corn pudding, and creamed spinach. Barrington had sampled everything before rolling himself onto the front porch in relief, and then someone had the nerve to show up with several This Is It bags. Finally, Jeneice’s Auntie Marchelle—on her mother’s side—showed up with a caramel cake. Barrington hadn’t had one of those since he was little because even his mother thought they were too much work, so of course he grabbed a hefty piece. He would pay for all of it later.

  A white SUV pulled up to the curb in front of the house and an attractive young couple emerged. Mr. Harwell managed a smile as he greeted them. Barrington thought he had seen the girl before and that was confirmed when Mr. Harwell said her name. “How are you, Nia?”

  She smiled and gave him a hug. “I’m okay. How are you doing?”

  “About as well as I can. Hello, young man,” he said pointedly to the other half of the couple.

  “Hello, sir.” The young man shook Mr. Harwell’s hand and then stuck his hands in his pocket. He seemed to be going out of his way to avoid eye contact with Barrington, whose antenna went up.

  “Nia, do you remember Detective Dunn?” asked Mr. Harwell.

  “Yes, hi. It’s good to see you.”

  Barrington shook her hand. “You, too.”

  “Is Mrs. Harwell in there?” she asked, turning her attention back to the man of the house. “I have something for her.”

  Mr. Harwell seemed to struggle with the answer. “Well...she’s in there but she’s not feeling too well. I would just let her be for now.”

  “Okay, I understand.”

  Barrington eyed the young man and wondered what he was hiding. Nia sat on the Adirondack chair opposite Mr. Harwell. She knew to just sit and be a presence without being intrusive. Someone had raised her well.

  Barrington looked at the young man. “You wanna sit?”

  He answered without looking. “Yeah, thanks.” He took his seat on the other chair and stared at the wooden planks beneath his feet.

  Barrington had a thought. “Nia, do you mind if I steal you for a moment?” She raised her eyebrows but followed Barrington off the porch steps and around the side of the house to the driveway. The young man finally took a look as they passed by and Barrington took great care to stare right back.

  The two stopped near a rose bush. “I want to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me, okay?”

  “Okay,” Nia answered.

  “Did Jeneice have a boyfriend or a man she was dating?” He knew instantly without her having to answer. She had no poker face to speak of.

  “I don’t...” she trailed off.

  “Nia, it’s important. I need the truth.”

  “She had a couple of male friends but I didn’t really know them. One came by the house once but he was in and out. I don’t even remember his name.”

  “Do you remember what he looked like?”

  She sighed, seemingly annoyed by the line of questioning. “He was tall. And white.”

  Barrington cocked his head to the side. “Was it—”

  “I don’t know if it’s the same guy. I’ve been trying to find a picture of him online but they haven’t posted one yet. I don’t remember his name being Charles though. I guess it could have been, I don’t know. There’s so much going on, I can’t even think straight.”

  “Why did you tell the police that Jeneice wasn’t seeing anyone?”

  “Because she didn’t want anybody to know.”

  “Why is that?”

  Nia stared at her shoes as if they would answer in her place. “Jeneice dated white guys and she knew her dad would be pissed off about it.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  “Please don’t tell him.”

  “I...can’t promise he’ll never find out.” Barrington didn’t know people still cared about that kind of thing. Maybe he just didn’t pay attention. He pictured walking Simone and Taylor down the aisle towards a white boy, something he had never thought about before, and quickly pushed it out of his mind. Turns out he cared about that kind of thing.

  “There’s a chance I’ll need to talk to you about this again,” he said. Nia scrunched her face up and crossed her arms. Dark circles sat under her eyes and she looked thinner than the last time he had seen her. “But for now, I think I have what I need.” She nodded.

  “Hey, before you go let me ask you a question. What’s up with your friend?”

  “Brandon?” she asked. “He’s my boyfriend. He’s not really feeling police right now.”

  “Why is that? Is he holding something?”

  “No, nothing like that. He goes to my school. He had a situation with campus police a few months ago.”

  “What kind of situation?”

  Nia looked down at her feet.

  “Nia?” he prodded.

  She sighed. “He was in the library late at night and somebody called police on him. He had his headphones on and didn’t hear them and they threw him on the ground and handcuffed him and punched him a few times. It was pretty bad. He’s not really over it yet.”

  No wonder. Barrington shook his head knowingly. “I understand. I’ll stay out of his way.”

  MR. HARWELL SENT BARRINGTON back to work with another beer and two plates. He chewed on a piece of rib and tried to organize his racing thoughts.

  The arrest just wasn’t sitting right with him. It was just as likely that the white male DNA found on Jeneice’s body was that of a boyfriend or lover as it was that it belonged to her killer. Unless they had something else, the DNA wasn’t enough. There had to be something else.

  He had logged on to read the transcripts from Charles Hansworth’s interrogation but the information hadn’t been entered yet. It was strange. Not without precedent, but strange. Were they hiding something? How likely was it that a bunch of white cops would frame a white man for the murder of a black girl?

  He thought about robberies. That’s where he felt comfortable. That was his lane. If he were hunting a robbery suspect, he would look for patterns of behavior in the locations the suspect chose, the time of day he preferred, his weapon of choice, his level of aggression, and the types of people he targeted. Humans are creatures of habit and they like what’s familiar. They like to be comfortable.

  He pulled up the case files and took notes on his pad. Of the
known cases, Renee Washington was taken first. Amber Hayes was reported missing almost four weeks later. He scribbled some more and created a working timeline.

  Getting inside a suspect’s head was key, but it took years of experience and a certain kind of instinct. It was also why so many cops drank themselves silly. Seeing the world through a criminal’s eyes creates an emotional and psychological burden. Intrusive thoughts. Seeing what they see, including the horror. But it was necessary. If he were the killer, what would he be doing? What was his next move?

  Renee had been taken on her way home in what turned out to be a tiny window of opportunity. The man had obviously watched her carefully and learned her routine. The same was true of Tiffany Scott. Amber was taken from her home, Bianca from her place of work. All of them had been taken when they were alone. All except Jeneice. She was taken while her roommate slept not twenty feet away. And Jeneice was the only girl found with DNA on her. But why? What was different about Jeneice? The only explanation that made sense was that Jeneice spent time with her boyfriend at some point in the hours leading up to her abduction. But wouldn’t Nia have known about that?

  He looked at the timeline again. It worked out to a girl being taken approximately once every 3-4 weeks. And if that pattern held, the killer should have taken another girl a week or two ago. Had he simply stopped? Was the attention to the cases making it more difficult to carry out his clandestine plans? Were potential victims being more careful after being exposed to the cases in the media?

  Barrington sat up straight in his chair. He had an idea.

  Chapter 32

  That Summer

  WE WAITED, AFRAID TO move, sweat dripping into our eyes. Leah had done the unthinkable, and Diante was so mad he was near tears. I was still mad at her but I was terrified that he was going to hurt her.

  After several seconds, Diante’s clenched fists loosened and his breathing slowed. Fefe and I looked at each other but neither of us spoke a word. Leah stood defiantly, not afraid or at least not showing it, and I was torn between being impressed and wanting to slap her for making things awkward.

  Jason spoke first. “Aye, that wasn’t even cool, little girl.” Desperate to stay in the circle, Leah’s defiant attitude dissipated and was replaced by remorse. “Sorry,” she said. Simple, but effective. Diante unclenched his fists and jaw and shook his head. “You need to watch it with all that mouth. One day you’re gonna meet the right one.”

  There was a collective sigh of relief from the rest of us. Crisis averted.

  TWO HOURS, A HAM AND cheese sandwich, a Capri Sun, and some Doritos later, we reconvened near the green box. Leah had gone inside to use the bathroom when Diante got our attention. “Aye y’all, I know something we can do,” he said, and we gathered around his bike as we would a teacher’s desk, awaiting his instructions. He was our leader and we were eager to please him. He detailed the plan and I was happy that my task was to be on the lookout for Jarvis and distract him if he tried to come near.

  “Alright, here she comes,” announced Fefe, and we scattered to get into our respective positions, barely able to contain our giggles. Leah sauntered over and rejoined us.

  Fefe spoke first. “You guys wanna see something crazy?” she asked. We all said yes, as per Diante’s plan. “Okay, everybody has to close their eyes and I’ll lead you to it. It’s a surprise.”

  “What is it?” asked Leah, earning her several eye-rolls and sucked teeth.

  “It’s a surprise, stupid. That means she’s not gonna tell you what it is,” said Jason.

  Fefe stood and beckoned for us to join her. “Let’s go y’all. Hold each other’s hands so you won’t get lost.” She held her hand out and Jason grabbed it. Diante was next in the train, then me. I grabbed Jason’s hand and Leah brought up the rear.

  “Ready?” asked Fefe. We all closed our eyes as the walk started, but quickly reopened them to watch Leah. To our surprise, she was following instructions. She squeezed her eyes shut with all her might as if that would have earned her extra credit. We struggled to contain our laughter.

  We approached the designated spot and Fefe admonished us once again. “Okay, we’re almost there. Do NOT open your eyes until I say so.”

  We stopped at the spot and it was perfect. Leah was exactly where she was supposed to be. “Keep them closed,” said Fefe, and Leah pressed her eyelids even closer together if that was possible, doing tiny hops in excitement.

  Diante picked up a small stick, unable to stop smiling. He looked at us and we nodded our approval. He bent down to the mound under Leah’s feet and poked it gently.

  Within seconds, hundreds, maybe even thousands of tiny black ants fled their holes and made their way up Leah’s tennis shoes. They ran across the dirty white leather, across the pink laces, and into any opening they could find. We snickered as Leah, eyes still shut, frowned and twitched. “Don’t open yet,” said Fefe, and Leah obeyed. Finally, she freed her hand from Jason’s, unable to take it anymore. Without opening her eyes, she swatted desperately at her ankles.

  Our little group erupted with laughter and Leah’s eyes flew open. She looked down and screamed, a blood-curdling, chill-inducing wail that startled me. I stopped laughing as I watched the little girl claw at her shoes, trying to remove them from her feet. My first thought was to reach down and help her but I stopped myself. The others were still laughing so I forced out a laugh of my own.

  Tears streamed down Leah’s face. She succeeded in getting the first shoe off but was shaking so badly that she kept missing the laces on the other. Her screams turned into hoarse shrieks and the longer it went on, the worse I felt. My crooked smile masked my inner conflict. Should I help? If I did, what would the others say?

  In the end, it wasn’t me who showed mercy, it was Jason. He lunged forward, hitting his knee on the dirt, and snatched the tennis shoe off Leah’s foot. The others stopped laughing and watched in silence as he slapped at the ants. Leah wailed into her hands, losing her breath several times, fighting to catch it with hiccups that shook her entire tiny body.

  “Somebody get me some water!” Jason shouted. Fefe ran to the side of Ms. Eileen’s house and grabbed the long green hose. She turned on the faucet and dragged the hose over to Jason. He washed Leah’s stinging feet. “Calm down. You’re alright, it’s just some ants,” he said.

  Diante snickered. “You should have seen your face,” he said to Leah, who was still quietly sobbing.

  “Aye man, chill with that,” said Jason.

  “Why? She ain’t dying, she’ll be alright.”

  “Just be cool before Jarvis comes out here and whoops your ass.” In truth, we all had reason to fear Jarvis’ wrath. He wouldn’t have fought us girls, but he had the ability to ruin us just the same.

  “Why me? Y’all did it too,” Jason protested.

  “It was your idea,” said Fefe.

  “Whatever, Jarvis can’t do nothin’ to me. Y’all ain’t never seen me fight. I could take him.” We laughed at the thought. Diante wasn’t scrawny but his weight was distributed unevenly. His thighs and calves were well-built but his arms were spindly and would not serve him well in a fight.

  “How? Jarvis wrestles, and he knows boxing. His uncle fights over there off Salem.”

  Diante poked his chest out. “I can fight. Y’all don’t even know.”

  Leah wiped her tear-stained face and faced us, her tormentors. I’m not sure what I was expecting her to say but I was shocked by what came out of her mouth.

  “I’m telling my brother.”

  We looked at each other, panic in our eyes. Diante walked over and stood right in her face, prompting Jason to jump between them.

  “Chill, man, chill.” He faced Leah. “Don’t tell Jarvis, okay?” he pleaded. “We’re sorry. It was a joke.”

  Leah looked at Jason and then at Diante before shaking her head. “Nope, I’m telling.”

  It was Fefe’s turn. “Leah, we were just playing. If you don’t tell, you can hang with us every d
ay.”

  Leah’s gaze moved from Fefe’s face to mine. Like a judge preparing to hand down her verdict, Leah waited to hear my final plea before she sentenced us. I hated being at her mercy but I didn’t want Jarvis to hate me before I had the chance to make him love me.

  “We’re sorry Leah,” I said. “It was a prank and we didn’t think it would be that serious. Now we know we shouldn’t have done that. Please.”

  A slight smile appeared on her lips. She seemed satisfied and I thought we had convinced her. Then she said it.

  “I’m still telling.”

  The rest was a blur.

  Leah whirled around and began to walk in the opposite direction toward her house. As she passed, Fefe stuck her leg out and Leah tripped over it. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Leah had been walking slowly because she would have likely fallen onto the grass. But the speed of her gait gave her more momentum and her body flew over the last two feet of grass before she landed, face-first, onto the sidewalk.

  My hands flew up to my mouth and Fefe screamed out. Diante and Jason ran to her and lifted her. There was blood everywhere.

  Leah held her shaking hand directly under her mouth as tears once again streamed down her face. Nobody seemed to know what to do other than stare. Jason begged her to let him see her mouth but she shook her head, blood flinging from left to right. She stumbled to her feet and would have fallen again if Diante didn’t catch her. She used her free hand to push him away and then began to run away from us. This time, however, she ran up the street in the direction of the clubhouse.

  THE POLICE CAME TO our door at around ten that evening. I was in bed trying not to think about what Jarvis was going to do to us when my mother came and got me out of bed. I followed her in my favorite nightgown, scared for the lecture that I knew was coming, but stopped short when I saw two police officers sitting on our couch.