Betrayed (25 page)

“I faked like I wasn't feeling well, but he insisted on laying there with me. I would've been up the creek if I hadn't gotten an opportunity to text Jamal and tell him to hold off for a while.”

“If you're not careful, you're going to be hanging by the neck in Victor's leather noose,” Phyllis said. “I don't know what it is about that man you want because I don't trust him.”

“Victor was my ticket out of the dump where I used to live. Once you give in and begin reaping the benefits, it's hard to say no. Victor can sex me as good as any twenty-something, but my heart belongs to Jamal. I have a man who loves me for me, and I can't wait until Jamal and I are married this weekend at the Justice of the Peace. We applied for the license and did our blood work last week. I should receive the results of my test today.”

“That's cool…you and Jamal are getting married. It's about time you made a respectable woman of yourself. When are you going to tell Victor?”

“I really have done a lot of soul searching about my life, Phyllis, and it's thanks to you that I'm choosing to fly right. Jamal has been my man for a long time. We have what you call an open relationship, and yes, he knows all about Victor,” Sheila lied. “We talked into the wee hours of the night last week about where we were going with our lives and decided right then and there that we would get married. I don't need all the fanfare that comes with having a wedding; Jamal and I decided that the time was now to settle down and live our lives as husband and wife. I've made up my mind that I'm going to tell Victor about Jamal when he comes in.”

“Wow, you've thought this all out. If you need a witness, call me. Sister got your back.”

“Thanks, Phyllis. I appreciate it. Let me go; the police have returned.”

“All right. Love you, Sheila.”

“Love you back.”

“Yes, may I help you?” Sheila asked, putting down the telephone.

“Yes, I'm Detective Marshall, looking for Mr. Christianson.” Detective Marshall flashed his badge.

“He hasn't come in yet,” Sheila replied.

“What time will he be in today?”

“I expect him any time. He hasn't called, so I assume he's running behind schedule. Is there something I can help you with?”

“It's urgent that I speak to him,” Detective Marshall said, peering into the empty office with the door marked
DIRECTOR
. In the meantime, I'm going to confiscate his computer.”

Sheila followed him with her eyes, getting up from her desk to see what he actually planned to do in Victor's office. “Does this have something to do with the shooting on Saturday?”

Marshall looked at Sheila. He smiled. Sheila looked at Marshall for the first time. He might be a catch for Phyllis. He was tall, medium build, had dimples on both sides of his face, a little on the old side, but Phyllis seemed to like older men. Sheila made a mental note to remind herself to call Phyllis—that was until she saw what appeared to be a wedding band wrapped around his ring finger.

“Yes, it does,” Marshall said. “I was hoping Mr. Christianson could give me some information about the victim in his capacity as Director of Admissions.”

“There are others in the office who could assist you, sir. Also, you may want to speak with our Vice Chancellor for Student Affairs. I'm not sure you have authority to take Mr. Christianson's computer.”

“My badge says I have every authority. Thank you, Miss…”

“Sheila Atkins and the future Mrs. Sheila Billops.” Sheila smiled. “Detective Marshall, do you have a business card on you so I can have Mr. Christianson call you?” Sheila winked.

Detective Marshall gave Sheila a quick once over. He pulled his
business card from his holder and placed it in Sheila's hand. “Miss Atkins soon to be Mrs. Billops, can you tell me if Mr. Christianson has been acting strange in the past week or so?”

Sheila gave Marshall her serious look and pretended to ponder the question. She didn't relish the position she now found herself in. She folded her hands together and let out a sigh.

“Well?” Marshall asked, his patience getting thin.

“Now that I think about it, he kept leaving the office like he was on some secret mission. He was clearly agitated about something, but I have no earthly idea what it could've been. A couple of times he slammed the door…”

“Was slamming the door uncharacteristic of Mr. Christianson?”

“Well, yes. He is pretty mild-mannered.”

“Ms. Atkins, someone let it slip that you and Mr. Christianson might have…” Marshall coughed. “…might have been something other than boss and subordinate.”

“And what are you implying by that, Detective Marshall?” Sheila asked, the smile on her face evaporating.

“Just what you interpreted it to mean. However, if I need to spell it out for you…you and Mr. Christianson are having an affair. I wonder if your future husband, Mr. Billops, knows you're leading a double life,” Marshall stated sarcastically.

“Mr. Billops is my concern, not yours.” Sheila began to tap her toe on the floor and her nostrils began to flare. Suddenly, Detective Marshall no longer looked good to her.

“When was the last time you saw Mr. Christianson?”

Sheila turned away and began to tap her fingers on her desk. “I don't remember exactly. I'm sure it was on Friday at work.”

“Such a small thing to remember; especially since Friday was only two days ago. Did you see him over the weekend, perhaps at the football game?”

“No,” Sheila answered fast. “I didn't even go to the game. I was home all day.”

Marshall wrinkled his face and gave Sheila a look that said she was lying. “I'll let you simmer on that some more, Ms. Atkins, but as soon as Mr. Christianson comes in, please have him call me.”

Sheila stared straight into Marshall's eyes. “I'll do just that,” Sheila said flatly. She watched as Marshall walked out of the office, and then grabbed the phone to call Phyllis, but not before she canvassed the room to see if she could identify her Judas.

S
HEILA PUT THE PHONE IN ITS CRADLE AND PONDERED
D
ETECTIVE
Marshall's questions. It was becoming clearer by the moment that Victor was connected somehow to the shooting on Saturday. Then she thought about the gun Victor had conveniently dropped off at her house, almost immediately after the incident on campus, but unless asked, she was going to stay out of the spotlight, keep her mouth shut, and let the police handle their business. If the police investigation should lead them to the piece of hardware she had conveniently stored away in her house not realizing that it might have been connected to their investigation of Victor, she'd be more than happy to turn it over—but not a minute sooner.

R
aphael's naked body lay face down on the bed like a log on the slate-blue satin sheets as Mimi brought in a cup of hot coffee and a plate of buttered toast for him. His legs were spread apart—one up, the other down, with his massive arms circling his head. Mimi knew he was at a good place in his sleep and hated to wake him, but she smiled at the sight of him as she recalled their night of passion.

Mimi set the tray on the dresser and picked up the cup of coffee to drink herself. She took a sip and turned her head at the sound of Raf's body shifting on top of the sheets. Aroused, he opened his eyes and smiled when he saw Mimi.

“Girl,” he said in low raspy voice. “You drained all of my energy. Where am I going to get enough energy to see my daughter today? Mimi, you put a hurting on me.” Raphael let out a breath. “I'm willing to do it all over again, baby. Why don't you take off those clothes and come back to bed. You are some kind of good.”

Mimi smiled. “I love pleasing you, Raphael; you give back and know the meaning of pleasuring your woman. I felt guilty though.”

Raphael sat up on his elbows. “Guilty how, baby? I was making love to my woman…my wife.”

Mimi put the cup down. “And it was all that, but I couldn't help thinking about Afrika in that room all alone.”

“She has police protection now, and as soon as I get up and get dressed, we're heading for the hospital.”

“Okay, baby, but…” Mimi's cell phone rang, cutting her off. “Hold on a minute, Raf.”

“Is that the hospital?”

Mimi waved no. “Hello,” she said.

“Mrs. Bailey, your gun permit has been approved. You can come down any time today and pick up your gun.”

“Thank you very much,” Mimi said and ended the phone call.

“Was it the hospital or was it John?”

“Neither, Raf. It was the school. Afrika was having problems with her meal card, and the business office called to say that everything was straightened out,” she lied. “Look, take your time getting ready. I need to run to the store to pick up some toiletries for Afrika before we go to the hospital; I'll be right back. I'll fix you some more coffee and toast.”

“Are you all right, Mimi? You seem in a fog all of a sudden.”

“It's the whole Afrika thing, Raf. Receiving that call reminded me of this whole ordeal with Afrika—the shooting, I mean.” Mimi looked at Raf. “We have to talk.”

“Okay,” Raf said, getting up from the bed in his birthday suit. He threw his arms over his head and let out a great big yawn.

“Take your shower and get some clothes on, buddy.”

“I will since I can't get you to play soldier with me. As my POW, I'd treat you real good, so much so you'd beg not to be rescued. Total surrender.”

“You think I'm that easy, huh?”

“Girl, you love what I give you.”

“I do indeed, but right now the only thing on my brain is our child.”

“Don't worry about the coffee. I'll drink what you left on the dresser.”

“I'll be right back.”

Raphael watched Mimi leave the room with a perplexed look on his face.

Mimi jumped in her car, backed out of the garage, and headed out of the subdivision. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins. In the next half-hour, Mimi would have protection from the man that she despised, although not sure what she was going to do with it. If Victor was indeed the perpetrator, the police was on his trail, but if she saw him first, she was going to shoot him in cold blood.

“God, please remove the bad thoughts that are roaming around in my mind. Take the hate from my heart, Lord. Your commandment says,
Thou shall not kill
. Afrika is still alive, and You have allowed this blessing. Thank You, Lord. Thank You. I won't forget.”

Mimi drove as fast as the law would allow but slowed down as she turned down the street to the gun shop. She found a park directly in front of the place, turned off the ignition, and sat a moment, contemplating what she was going to do when she picked up the gun. She didn't want to seem anxious…only another female trying to protect herself from the mean streets of the city.

Exhaling, Mimi got out of the car and went inside. The store owner remembered her with a smile. Mimi palmed the gun in her hand and took the information about the location of the shooting range should she need practice. Not lingering, Mimi quickly left the place and got in her car.

The gun was housed in its own wooden box. She took the box out of the bag and sat it in her lap before opening it up. She lifted the gun from its bed and examined it like it was a new Prada bag. She brushed her hand over the steel barrel and Victor's image zoomed in front of her. “You'll never mess with me again.” Mimi put the gun away and headed home.

Turning into the subdivision, Mimi abruptly turned around.
She'd forgotten to go to the supermarket and pick up some sundry items for Afrika—deodorant, lotion, toothpaste, and a toothbrush. She flew to the store and was in and out in ten minutes. Upon arriving home, Mimi placed the gun under her seat until she could find a more permanent place to hide it. Good thing; Raf was standing at the door when she opened the door to the garage.

R
aphael got in the passenger side of the car. He watched Mimi with renewed interest. Somehow, she seemed different, but he couldn't put his finger on it. “You want me to drive, baby?” Raphael asked. “No, sweetie. I'm already comfortable and I would have to bark directions to the hospital.”

“You look good driving this Lexus.”

“How else would I look? Let's change the subject; Afrika is our priority.”

“Don't you think I know that, Mimi? She's never left my mind. I prayed to God that He wouldn't let anything happen to her… that she would have her life back the way it was the moment that SOB's bullet hit her.”

Mimi smiled. “I believe that, too, Raf. She's going to make it; she's resilient. She's got to get over these hurdles first.”

“You're right.” Raphael paused. “Do you want to talk now?”

Mimi seemed nervous and put her foot on the gas.

“Slow down, Mimi. If now isn't the right time, we'll talk later.”

“Let's wait until we get home this evening. I can't have a serious talk with all of these crazy, cell phone talking drivers whipping around me.”

“Okay.” Raphael stared straight ahead in silence until they reached the hospital.

There was a still coolness between Raphael and Mimi, but Raf wasn't going to let that spoil his visit with his favorite girl. He waved to the nurses at the station and gave the black officer sitting outside of Afrika's door a fist bump. Raphael followed Mimi into Afrika's room.

Raphael stopped short when he saw the two young men and young lady sitting on the side of the bed talking to Afrika. However, it was the young lady that caught him off-guard. It was as if Afrika had an out-of-body experience in front of him. The young lady, about Afrika's age, was a split image of Afrika; except that her skin was two shades lighter. She even wore her hair in a pony-tail like his daughter—pulled to the top of her head with a Scrunchie around it. He stared, not sure of who he was looking at.