Read A Meeting In The Ladies' Room Online
Authors: Anita Doreen Diggs
A Meeting In The Ladies' Room (14 page)
The evolution of Jacqueline Naomi Blue unfolded. Mama talked about what a wonderful child I had beenâ“she never gave me a lick of trouble”âhow we didn't have much money but she made sure I always looked niceâ“when I didn't have money for new shoes, I slicked up her old ones with Vaseline and made 'em shine”âthe way I studied hard and made good gradesâ“her teachers loved her.” The reporter cut to still photos of me as a baby, toddler, girl, and young woman the whole time Mama was talking.
Finally, the conversation turned to Annabelle's death.
“Why do you think your daughter has been charged with murder?”
“She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Do you think that race plays a part in all this?”
Mama paused. “Probably does, but money got somethin' to do with all this, too. They wouldn't have rushed Jackie into jail so fast if she was rich.”
“But your daughter has the best criminal defense attorney that money can buy.”
Elvira jumped in, with a look of righteous indignation on her face. “Keith Williams is working for free. If he wasn't in this case, that poor girl would be so far under a jailhouse right now, nobody would ever get her out. What y'all need to do is leave her alone and find out who the real killer is.”
Mama had the last word. She held up my second grade school picture (the one with my two front teeth missing) and spoke directly into the camera. “Jackie is not a criminal. If anybody out there knows anything that can help her, please call Keith Williams right now.” It was over and as I clicked off the TV, it occurred to me that Mama and Elvira looked younger and had a lot more energy than I'd ever thought to see in them again. My troubles had given them some excitement and a reason to live.
Paul rubbed his forehead. “This is all so unbelievable.”
I had lost my appetite a long time ago. Now I sprawled flat on my back across the bed. “I don't know how much more of it I can stand.”
“I'm sorry all this is happening to you, Jackie. Unfortunately, it's going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better.”
“I know.”
He lay down beside me and took my hand. “Don't worry, I'm here for you.”
I put my head on his chest. “Paul, you're such a good friend. I still can't believe you've risked your home to set me free.”
He took a deep breath. “Jackie, I didn't put my house up because we're friends. I did it because I'm in love with you.”
So, that was the reason he'd been silent all day. He was building up the courage to say what he'd been feeling for the past few years.
“Paul, I . . .”
“No. I've got to get this out. I'm tired of walking around pretending to be the good, loyal buddy.” He took a deep breath. “Here it is, plain and simple, babyâI want to be your man.”
I hugged him around the waist and then looked up to meet his eyes. “Paul, I can't let you make that kind of promise to me right now. I may be going to prison.”
Paul caressed my face. “Do you think I don't know that? I love you in spite of this terrible mess, but I need to know how you feel about me.”
“I love you, too, but . . .”
I was about to add that I didn't have the kind of heat for him that makes a woman think about a man day and night. His feelings for me were a lot stronger than mine were for him. Before I could say all that, he placed his finger over my lips.
“Ssshhh. That's all I needed to hear.” He pressed my body close to his and our lips met. Then our tongues. It turned into a strong and leisurely kiss. We helped each other out of our clothes and he gently ran his hands and lips over my face, breasts, and thighs. “You are the most beautiful lady I've ever seen.”
My heart beat fast. My fingers, as I wrapped them around his thick, solid manhood, trembled slightly.
Paul took his time with my nipples. He played with each one gently . . . sucking and nibbling until I was soaking wet and begging for him to fulfill me.
And then it was on.
His ride started out slow, then it escalated until my nails were digging into his strong back before he shifted into a deliberate, steady stroke that made silent tears of pleasure course down my cheeks.
“Are you my woman?” he whispered.
“Yes, Paul.”
We moaned, flowed, and created our own dance that tore down the last walls of our platonic friendship.
26
REASONABLE DOUBT
P
aul shook me awake. My eyes opened to find him fully dressed and smiling down at me.
aul shook me awake. My eyes opened to find him fully dressed and smiling down at me.
“I have to get going, baby,” he said.
“What time is it?”
“Just a little before six.”
Why are you leaving for work so early?”
He sat down and stroked my naked back. “I need to go home and change clothes. Plus I have to pack some of my things so I don't have to run to Brooklyn every other day.” He groaned. “Jackie, I . . . uh . . . never mind.”
There was something deep going on. I could smell it. “What's the matter?”
“I have something to do right after work but I'll get here as soon as I can. Will you be okay here alone?”
“Yes, I'll be fine. I don't want you to move in, Paul. We need time to adjust to our relationship and trying to live together right now would be way too much.”
“But your life could be in danger,” he protested.
I sat up and stretched. “Paul, let's take this thing slowly, okay?”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Fine. What are your plans for the day?”
“Keith will be here at nine to discuss the case and then I have an important phone call to make. After that, I'm going to see Mama, if he'll allow it.”
Paul stood up and glanced at his watch. “Okay, but keep in touch and let me know what's going on. I'll get back here this evening as quickly as possible.”
His forehead creased into a frown and there was a sudden emotion in his eyes that I couldn't read.
“Paul, where are you going after work?”
He kissed me on the lips. “There is something I have to take care of, but nothing for you to worry about. Now, get up and come lock up after me.”
I couldn't go back to sleep, so six in the morning found me unpacking boxes and hanging my suits, dresses, pants, and blouses in Keith's bedroom closet, which only contained empty hangers. My shoes and boots lined up nicely on the floor of it with plenty of room to spare. It found me packing away my nightgowns, panties, bras, slips, jeans, and sweaters in the nine drawers of a beautiful white, mirror-topped dresser that faced the king-sized bed. Perfume, makeup, nail polish, jewelry box, and the manicure set now dwelled on the top of the dresser. My CD player and two dozen CDs went on the floor beside the bed because there was no other surface to place them on. I left the boxes of books downstairs on the living room floor.
Since the bedroom and kitchen were the only furnished rooms in the entire house, I didn't have a lot of options.
Where should I put the giant piggy bank? Videotapes? Teddy bear? Hair scrunchies? Board games? Top shelf of the closet! The blow dryer and curling iron went up there, too, and it was over.
Keith showed up shortly after nine with orange juice and donuts.
We set up shop at the kitchen table. The crisp morning daylight streamed in through the bay windows and illuminated our tense faces. I was supposed to be at my desk right now, taking calls from agents and writers. When I looked at Keith, eating breakfast and secure in his job, it made me angry and scared. What kind of work would I find when this was all over?
I fastened my gaze on him. “Well, has your detective turned up anything useful?”
Even though my tone was nasty, Keith's expression did not change when he answered. “There have been some revelations.”
“Like?”
“Joe Long doesn't like you.”
My brain struggled to seize and accept the notion as Keith licked jelly from the inside of a donutâhis features unreadable.
I finally managed to squeak out a meek-sounding “Why not?”
He wiped his hands on a napkin. “I was hoping you could tell me.”
“I don't have any idea.”
“Jealousy, perhaps?”
“I can't think of any reason for Joe to be jealous of me. We were both senior editors at our firms. I may have earned a little more than he does, but not enough for him to hate me for it.”
“Did you have more power than he does?”
I had to snicker. “Everyone in the Black Pack has more power than Joe does. Why is he singling me out for his bitterness?”
I had spoken the truth. Joe was simply Black window dressing at the place where he worked and his opinion didn't count for much.
Keith checked his notes. “Would you describe Joe Long as a mentally stable person?”
“Yes. I've only seen him get angry once in the five years I've known him. Why do you ask?”
He ignored my question. “Tell me about it.”
I told him about the night Dallas told us that Victor had been coming out of Victoria's Secret and might have made a new “love connection.”
“Joe went nuts,” I concluded. “Maybe they were both in love with the same woman or something.”
“I'll have one of my private investigators look into it.”
“Why is that important?”
Keith said, “Right now, everything is important.”
“Dallas also told me that she thinks Joe is a closet homosexual with a crush on Victor. Have you heard anything like that?”
“I'm not willing to say right now, Jackie.”
“Fine. What else?”
“Annabelle was having an affair,” said Keith.
For some reason, I wasn't surprised. “Who is the other man?”
“That's what we don't know yet,” Keith said with a frown. “Apparently it's been going on for quite some time. Her friends know that the man exists but she never revealed his identity. “Have you seen this bullshit?” He waved a copy of
Time
magazine in my face. “According to these folks, Annabelle Welburn Murray was an alabaster saint. Not a woman who paid her household help worse than anyone else at The Dakota, and was fucking around on her husband.”
Time
magazine in my face. “According to these folks, Annabelle Welburn Murray was an alabaster saint. Not a woman who paid her household help worse than anyone else at The Dakota, and was fucking around on her husband.”
“Do you think the other man killed her?”
Keith's eyes met mine. “Not unless he was already in that apartment when you stopped by for the book. Is there any chance of that?”
“She had been crying, so it is possible.”
He was staring at me.
“What is it?” I was not in the mood for any more puzzles.
“I've reviewed all the videotape for that morning, starting at five
A.M.
If her lover was in the apartment, then he had to live in her building. Every other man who came in or out has been accounted for. Unfortunately, I cannot subpoena every single male who lives in that building without cause.”
A.M.
If her lover was in the apartment, then he had to live in her building. Every other man who came in or out has been accounted for. Unfortunately, I cannot subpoena every single male who lives in that building without cause.”
“What about Craig? Have you ruled him out?”
“Craig Murray was faithful to this Jezebel and there is absolutely no way he could have killed her, either.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. I have accounted for every single second of his time during the crucial period.”
“Where was he?”
“At his sister's home. He and Annabelle had a fight and he left, taking the kid with him.”
“Break it down for me, Keith. What does this mean?”
“It means that I've never had a case with more holes in it than this one.” Keith was clearly delighted. “It has âreasonable doubt' written all over it. Jackie, you're gonna walk. Take my word for it.”
“In other words, you may not find out who killed her.”
“Exactly.”
“I cannot live my life under a cloud of suspicion, Keith.”
“My people will keep trying, but I just wanted you to know that it may not be possible.” He patted my arm. “Let's talk about the computer and disks that the police took away. “Is there anything incriminating on those disks or the hard drive?”
It was time to tell him the story of Victor Bell.
“. . . uh . . . um . . .”
“Jackie, you can't let me get blindsided in that courtroom. I've got to know.”
My hands flew up to cover my face. “It's all just so embarrassing.”
“Not half as unsettling as what goes on in a women's prison.”
Damn, he was blunt!
I hung my head in shame and stared down at the kitchen table and never took my eyes off its wooden surface as I poured out my pathetic saga of lust, obsession, and humiliation.
When I got to the part where Paul fled down the stairs after seeing me in my slip, Keith made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a choked-back snicker.
He sucked in his breath when I described the sound of Victor retching in my bathroom.
“That's it,” I said finally.
He tapped his pen on the table and it was clear he was thinking out loud. “I've been told that Victor and Joe Long are good friends. Is that true?”
“Yes, but I can tell you right now that no one in the Black Pack had a reason to kill Annabelle.”
“You're probably right, but I'm going to have a talk with Victor anyway.”
“About what?”
He neatly sidestepped the question. “Maybe I just want to get a real good look at this brother. I'm wondering what he has that would make a smart, good-looking woman like you go to such lengths to get him.”
I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling as though Keith was full of shit, but he was making me feel good inside.
“I also want to look into the eyes of a man who had you alone and willing in a bedroom and ran out. I can't imagine what such a fool would look like.”
He winked at me and I smiled back at him.
“Perhaps,” Keith continued, “the poor man needs to be in a hospital for the criminally insane. I can arrange that, you know.”
Victor in a straitjacket! The image struck me as funny and I got a bad case of the giggles. Soon Keith was laughing, too.
I chose a vanilla-frosted donut and poured myself some juice.
“Let's talk about little Dora Murray.”
“Did you find out what was wrong with her?” I asked.
“There was nothing wrong with the child.”
“But she said that the doctor gave her a needle.”
“The doctor wasn't putting medicine into her body,” Keith replied. “He was taking blood out.”
“Why?”
Keith grinned. “For DNA testing.”
I jumped up and started waving my arms around like I'd just won a race. “I knew that child wasn't Craig's. Both her parents are blond but she looks Hispanic. Have you seen her yet?”
He waited until I had calmed down. “No, but that can wait.”
I slumped back into my seat.
“Poor Craig. This is awful. Is there any way to keep Craig from finding out about this DNA business? He adores that kid.”
Keith leaned forward. “Jackie, I need you to understand something. Look at me.”
I looked.
“I'm going to find out what those test results are and when we walk into that courtroom, the gloves are off. There is nothing I won't do, no reputation that will go untarnished, no secret unrevealed, in my effort to win. I intend to get a ânot guilty' verdict in this case.”
I said nothing.
Keith cleared his throat. “All right, let's start making a list of people to call as character witnesses. Folks who will say under oath that you are the greatest thing since sliced bread and couldn't kill a fly.”
“Well, forget Joe,” I said bitterly. “What about the rest of the group?”
“Rachel, Alyssa, and Paul are totally on your side. I'm not sure about Victor yet.”
“Rachel?” I couldn't have been more astonished if he had said Batman.
“Yeah. She is really pissed off about what has happened to you and blames Tiffany Nixon and her column for pushing this thing forward so fast.”
“Are we talking about Rachel Edwards from the Black Pack?”
Keith seemed amused. “Yes. Why are you so surprised?”
“Because Rachel only cares about getting a rich husband.”
“You're very wrong about her,” Keith said softly. “Besides, I don't just want a list of publishing folks.” He pushed some paper and a pen in my direction. “Write down the names of everyone you have a good relationship with. Neighbors, your local dry cleaner . . . don't leave anyone out.”
After Keith left, I called Elaine Garner. Even though she had not put up my bail, I still wanted to do the book. The money would go to Mama, who had been pinching pennies all her life. Elaine didn't want to talk on the phone but agreed to come over for a long lunch. I warned her not to tell anyone about my location. The last thing I needed was a horde of reporters camped outside the brownstone.
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