All I Want Is Forever (23 page)

Talia wanted him, but even more she needed him. All the tension and fear of a lifetime seemed to dissolve in the circle of his arms. A tingle moved through
her body like an electric shock. Just as she craved removing the barrier of clothes between them, he broke contact. His kiss was a powerful closing argument to the case he'd presented. He said nothing as they looked at each other for a full five minutes. She stared at the folder. Pieces of her life were summed up on police reports and court documents.

“I wish we could make it be simple, but we can't. This isn't a fairy tale, where everything can be solved with a kiss.” She had dreamed of just such an ending countless times.

Derrick picked up the file again. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm not upset. We've both been through hell in the past few weeks.”

“That wasn't an apology, Talia,” he said as he went to the door. “Go on back to your so-called normal life and find a nice, ‘normal' guy. You've worked hard to get both.”

“I'm tired of fighting,” she said.

He faced her with one hand on the doorknob. “So am I.”

“Let's not say good-bye in anger.” Talia started to reach for his arm, then drew her hand back. She couldn't trust herself to touch his warmth again.

“Looks like I can't give you anything you want today.” Derrick's eyes narrowed. He opened the door, seemingly about to speak again. He walked out instead.

“Stay a while and have some of my lemon icebox pie.” Mama Rose came down the hall with a smile.

“Sure wish I could, ma'am. But I've got to go. Take care of yourself.” Derrick left after kissing Mama Rose on the cheek.

“What—” Mama Rose glanced at Talia, then followed him. She came back a few minutes later. “He wouldn't tell me anything.”

“Nothing to tell. He wants one thing, and I want something else.” Talia went past her to the living room. She sat at the desk and started typing.

Mama Rose joined her seconds later. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened that night years ago?” she said.

“You know what happened. Monette got high and wild just like she had a hundred times before,” Talia said without looking at her. She tapped the keyboard a few more times, pretending to concentrate on the screen.

“I know part of it.” Mama Rose sat down on a chair next to the desk. She folded her hands in her lap and waited.

“Don't start seeing conspiracies everywhere.” Talia forced a light tone. “Derrick seems to have that effect on people with his cops-and-robbers lifestyle.”

“I wasn't a foster mother for fifteen years and a teacher for thirty years for nothing. I know when I haven't gotten the whole story.” Mama Rose lifted her chin. She gazed at Talia through her bifocals, every inch the suspicious grade school principal examining a deceitful student.

Talia called up some part of Monette in her genes. She turned on a winning smile as she looked at Mama Rose. “Darlin', you know more about me than I do. Now can I please finish this report that was due yesterday?”

Mama Rose studied her long and hard for two minutes. Then she stood. “Alright.”

“I promise we'll have a heart-to-heart like the old days when I'm through. Hot cocoa and cookies would be great.” Talia licked her lips as she had as a little girl.

“Sure, honey. I'm going to find out eventually, you know,” she called over her shoulder.

“Lord help me,” Talia muttered.

Two mothers equaled twice the aggravation. If she couldn't keep Monette safe, at least she could protect Mama Rose. The passage of time had not lessened the danger. Talia only wished she could make Derrick back off. She felt helpless. The one thing she still had was her work. With iron will, Talia focused. Yet her neck and back ached from the tension. After only ten minutes she gave up.

“I'm going out for a break,” she yelled down the hall. Before Mama Rose could question her, she grabbed her keys and left.

Derrick slowed his steps when he saw Winn Barron emerge from the hospital room. He started to step around a corner, but Barron looked straight at him. Barron's eyes widened in what Derrick thought was a guilty expression. Instead of turning back, Derrick strode forward.

“Hello, sir. How are you?” Derrick extended his hand.

Barron seemed to collect himself as he shook it. “Hello. I was just visiting Jerry. Ah, you know each other?”

“We've met.” Derrick gazed at him. “I talked to him about that drug case. You know, the one you asked Larry to look into because of a parole hearing.”

“I've followed up on so many of them it's hard to remember.” Barron smoothed down his wool jacket and cleared his throat. “I have to go now.”

“Sure. Say, you didn't happen to ask Mr. Hines about the Victor case? Before he got hurt I mean.”

“I hadn't talked to Jerry in months before this. We don't keep in touch like we should.” He spat out the words rapidly.

“Oh, I see. Maybe you could ask him. You might have had more luck jogging his memory than I did.”

“Well, it was a long time ago.” Barron wore an easy smile.

“He put in lots of overtime on that case.” Derrick did not move when Barron walked around him.

“Why would you examine his time sheets?” Barron's eyes narrowed.

“You did ask us to be thorough,” Derrick replied. “That a problem?”

“Listen, whatever your name is,” Barron snapped.

“Derrick Guillory,” he answered.

“Well, Mr. Guillory, your job is to protect the public from criminals. Remember that! Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting with the governor.” Barron brushed past him.

“Nice seeing you, too.” Derrick did not flinch at the hostile glance the powerful man gave him. He went into the hospital room.

Hines looked around sharply when the door opened. “You.” His voice was scratchy. With a shaky hand, he picked up a plastic cup and sipped through the straw in it.

“Sorry about what happened. Man, crime is out of control these days. Feeing any better?” Derrick walked over to the bed.

“What do you think?” Hines turned his head away from him.

“Yeah, dumb question. But you look a whole lot better than the day we found you.” Derrick took in the room. There were only two vases with flowers. “Sure nice of your old boss to come see you.”

“He's a real sweetheart.”

“You need anything? Guess the wife is taking care of most things.” Derrick probed what he thought was another sensitive area.

“Like emptying my bank account, maxing out the credit cards, and planning my funeral,” Hines said bitterly. “I'm tired. What do you want?”

Indeed, the man looked worn-out. His dark skin was ashen and seemed stretched thin on his bones. Derrick studied him. This man needed a friend, someone on his side. Yet he was no fool who would fall for any line. Derrick walked around the room to buy time. He'd tried to get information from Mrs. Hines with no luck. She was as hard as her husband.

“You still here?” Hines cast a glance at him, then away again.

“Monette Victor was stabbed. Supposedly she got into a fight. We both know it wasn't, any more than what happened to you was a botched burglary.”

“Is that what the warden's investigation says?” Hines glanced at him.

“Supposedly this inmate named Wanda Odom accused Monette of stealing from her. Odom has a history of being violent.”

Hines grunted. “Happens all the time in prison. So you've got nothing.”

“Odom also has a history of carrying out attacks for hire,” Derrick said.

“If the warden concluded it was a fight, then there's no evidence she was paid to stab Monette. Stop reaching. As for me, the sheriff's office called me the other day. They caught a little punk trying to pawn my DVD player.” Hines shifted in the bed.

“You can identify him as your attacker?”

“Maybe.”

Derrick went around the side of the bed and looked down at him with a frown. “So it's all just a coincidence. You don't believe that any more than I do.”

“The world is a violent place. Look at the news.” Hines met his gaze with an impassive expression.

“Uh-huh. Course when your own buddy turns on you…” Derrick lifted a shoulder. “Bet he still knows a lot of thugs from the old days, and he can call on them.”

“Don't know what you're talking about.” Hines turned his face to the wall.

“Barron isn't going to risk his career, much less his neck. You know better than I do that he uses street thugs when it suits him. I've read the files on the informants y'all used.” Derrick sat down in the chair next to his bed. “It's the downside of relying on scum to make cases. And they lie.”

“You should write novels. You got a wild imagination.” Hines didn't look at him.

“How's this for a plot. You listening?” Derrick tapped the bed.

“Not really. But then, I don't have anyplace to go right now.”

“I think it could make a great movie even. A small-town DA uses informants to help make his cases. Problem is he cuts corners, steps on the Constitution. Then maybe he figures out, or doesn't care, that these guys are lying to him about the crimes. Maybe they even committed crimes and tossed him sacrificial lambs.” Derrick nodded when Hines glanced at him.

“You're really reaching.” Hines looked away from Derrick's steady gaze.

“Wait, I haven't gotten to the best part. One of the informants, let's call him Earl, decides he's got the DA in a tight spot and makes threats. Earl disappears. The DA takes care of a certain lady who knows too much, a long prison sentence. Everything is all tidy and life goes pretty good for him. He becomes a top state official with political ambitions that might come true.”

“I don't buy it, and neither would anybody else,” Hines cut in.

“The big-mouthed lady gets some sharp lawyer to listen. The lawyer starts poking around places that make Mr. Big Stuff jumpy. So Mr. Big Stuff decides to use his power to make sure this lady stays in prison a long, long time. People might wonder how those crooks were able to prosper for so long.”

“I never helped a gangster operate.” Hines made small gasping noises as he breathed hard. “Never!”

“Y'all didn't question these guys too hard while they were helping you. I mean, about how they made a living.” Derrick sat back. “It's not a new story. A DA with too much political ambition and too few scruples.”

“Don't quit your day job.” Hines lay very still.

Derrick had to admire him. Hines was scared but tough. “Look, I want to help you out.”

Hines started to laugh, but the effort ended in a hacking cough. His face twisted in pain. After a few moments he lay back against the pillow. Derrick held the cup of water for him. Hines looked at him with suspicion in his dark eyes but drank all the same.

“Thanks,” he said in a croaky voice. “If you want to help me, then get the hell outta my room so I can rest.” He pulled the top sheet up to cover more of his chest. “Appreciate the visit though.”

Tough guy for sure,
Derrick thought. Yet he didn't move from the chair. Instead he sat watching the older man for several moments. “I understand. Why risk getting these guys more upset than they already are? Yeah, I definitely see where you might want to take your chances. But then again, with friends like Barron you better watch your back.”

“Give it up, kid. I'm not impressed.” Hines closed his eyes.

“Not only did you put an innocent woman in prison for fifteen years, but you put her in danger. Obviously you can live with murder.”

Derrick clenched his fist. Hines wasn't going to give an inch. Which meant Monette would stay in prison. Worse, she'd be in peril every moment she was there. When Hines didn't look at him, speak, or move Derrick started to stand up. The gruff voice stopped him.

“I was the first Black man to work for the district attorney in Pointe Coupee,” Hines said, his voice even and matter-of-fact. “Funny, huh? Things changed real slow out here, civil rights or not.”

Derrick waited a few beats before he spoke. “You had it from both sides. I got the same thing at first.”

“You got nothing compared to what I went through,” he said with force. Hines looked at Derrick. “I was grateful Barron hired me.”

“How grateful?”

Hines looked away again. “Should have known there was a price. Daddy always said ain't nothing free in this life.”

“You have to choose which price you're going to pay.” Derrick was thinking as much of himself as Hines.

Hines smiled and looked at Derrick. “I'll be sixty next month. Here I'm being lectured by a youngster. You weren't born back when I started training. I was in the military police, army. Did two tours in Vietnam.”

Derrick pushed back his own bad memories for the time being. “I heard how you put away some bad dudes. Cleaned up the neighborhoods.”

“Things started changing around '84 or '85. Crack hit the streets. Folks got less grateful when I helped round up their kids and grandkids.” Hines wore a bitter expression. “I got sick of them getting in my face, calling me Barron's houseboy.”

“But you stuck it out.” Derrick sighed.

“Damn straight.” Hines looked at him with a fierce
light in his eyes. “I could have quit. But watching thugs use kids to sell drugs to other kids turned my stomach.”

“You did what you thought needed to be done. Things just got out of hand,” Derrick said in a sympathetic tone.

Hines stared ahead at nothing through narrowed eyes. “Barron didn't care about little details like finding out the truth. He wanted convictions.”

“No matter how he got them,” Derrick prompted.

“I wanted those creeps off the street, too.” Hines replied.

“Different motivations, same result. You bent the rules.”

“I got tired of thieves and drug dealers getting off. Most of the time they didn't even spend a night in jail.” Hines shook his head slowly. “Our neighborhoods just went downhill overnight.”

“You blame Monette for street crime? Get real.”

Hines didn't answer him immediately. “Monette was always a charmer. She honestly tried to turn her life around a couple of times. She became Barron's woman,” he said in a low voice. “Very few people knew. He was real careful.”

Derrick tensed. “She's still planning to tell that story, Jerome.”

“Monette should leave well enough alone. I would have tried to help her.” Hines looked somber.

“Sure, like you've helped her for the last fifteen years. Time is short. What are you going to do, be smart or stupid?” Derrick studied his expression.

“I missed my one chance to be smart fifteen years ago.” Hines wore a sour smile. “Shoulda quit that damn job.”

Derrick stood. “I thought you were a better man. I was wrong.”

“Keep on living, son. You'll get tired of watching
crooks get away with murder. Besides, I learned nobody on this earth is innocent.”

“Don't tell me you were on some righteous mission.” He headed for the door. “Your old boss is probably already figuring out how to take care of you. You're unfinished business for him. Good-bye, Jerry, and good luck. You're going to need it.”

“Wait a minute,” Hines said, straining to speak loudly. He panted from the effort.

“Yeah?” Derrick turned to face him, one hand on the metal door handle.

“I want to help you write a real exciting ending to that novel we've been talking about. You might even get a movie deal.” Hines raised a dark eyebrow. “Just make sure I get a bit part.”

Derrick walked back into the room and sat down. “It's a deal,” he said.

 

Talia read the last e-mail message from her office and sighed with satisfaction as she signed off the Internet. Catching up on work and the politics of D.C. felt good. Still, Talia felt a twinge of guilt on occasion. She'd been relieved when Monette insisted she stay away from her. Despite her words, there was no mistaking the pain in Monette's eyes when Talia agreed with little argument. The specter of her painful childhood had proven too strong.

Mama Rose hurried into the den and turned on the television. The screen lit up immediately. “You have to see this, Talia.”

“No, I don't.”

Talia jumped up from the sofa and scattered papers everywhere. She marched to the television and punched the power button, cutting off the blond anchorwoman on the five o'clock news.

“What is the matter with you? They—”

“I don't want to know.”

“But, but—” Mama Rose pointed to the television, her mouth working.

“Forget it, Mama. I just want to concentrate on my work and my life.” Talia picked up the sheets from the sage-colored carpet as she talked. “Monette has good legal representation and with her injuries she'll get the sympathy vote. Her words not mine.”

“Will you listen to me?” Mama Rose put her fists on both hips.

“I know you're trying to help. But please understand. This is what Monette wants.” Talia organized the draft of her report while crouched on the floor.

“What Monette wants,” Mama Rose repeated.

“Yes.” Talia didn't look up from the papers. “I'm really busy here.”

Mama Rose sat down on one of two large matching chairs near the sofa. She watched Talia for a time in silence. Talia sat cross-legged on a huge accent throw pillow with her laptop on the coffee table. Determined to clear everything from her mind but the report, she tried to pretend Mama Rose's eyes weren't trained on her like hot laser beams. A rush of air amid the rustle of papers was her only warning. Mama Rose snatched the stack from the table.

“No work gets done until I have my say.” Mama Rose raised her bottom and sat on the report.