Healing Inc. (8 page)

 Ever being the gentleman, he walked her to her car as it had grown dark outside.  They stood by it, facing each other as a few scattered people passed by.  He was hesitant to open her car door but kept his hand on the handle to keep her from doing so.  He didn’t want their time to end.  He wanted to kiss her but knew that would end all that he had worked so hard for up to this point.  Finally, he opened the door to let her in.

“I guess I’ll see you on Wednesday.”  His voice was almost a whisper.  

“See you then,” she replied, just as softly.  She then turned and got in her car with him closing the door behind her. 

Again, he watched as she drove away from him but felt a lot more secure in the knowledge that he had her phone number.  Unless she decided to drop out of class or off the face of the Earth, he knew he would see her again.  He walked over to his car where his driver sat waiting.  He was thankful to have him open the door for him, allowing him to continue basking in the feeling of Evy’s hands on his, which lingered.  He didn’t want anything more to interfere with the sensation.

As he rode home in the back of the limo, he couldn’t help but go over the events of the evening. 
This is going to be harder than I thought
.  Watching Evy in class had set him on fire.  She would listen intently to Professor Cane and respond with the cleverest answers.  There were a few times that Professor Cane had sparked a debate on a hot topic.  In response, the whole class would liven up with everyone shouting their opinion and showing their passion for the subject.  Evy would always join in but managed to maintain a maturity and poise that the others lacked.

From the time line she gave him about her life, he guessed her to be in her late thirties, early forties but her appearance stated otherwise.  Her features and skin were flawless, making her appear much younger than she could possibly be. 

He had caught the young bucks in the class, three in all, gawking at her with a little too much interest when she wasn’t paying attention.  He could only imagine the concupiscent thoughts going through those young college boy minds.  It had irritated him to the point he had to step out of the room or risk bodily harm to someone. 
Am I he actually jealous?
  He couldn’t believe himself. 
I’m a millionaire for goodness sakes!  Why should I be insecure about such a thing?
  Then it dawned on him.  She wasn’t officially his yet.  He couldn’t even get her to agree to have dinner with him. 

There was also the situation with his ex-wife.  Being a man, it was inevitable that having a woman leave you would bruise your ego.  While not as wealthy during their marriage as he was today, he wasn’t exactly in the poor house when she left him either.  At the time Ralph was worth more, had come from a well-established line of money and was a lot more polished than he.  However, he wasn’t the self-made man that Tyler was.

 Abby was a snob, the complete opposite of Evy.  No way would she ever volunteer her time to tutor a bunch of college students, let alone work in a capacity that allowed dirt to touch her expensively manicured hands. At that moment, he resolved to defeat whatever it was that was standing between him and the potential for happiness with Evy.  First he had to get her to let him buy her dinner. 

***

That Night in Chicago State Penitentiary….

Detective Marcus Cole did his best to ignore the swearing and threats thrown his way by the men, once considered human beings.  Being reduced to their present state behind bars brought out an animalistic quality in them that would be utterly impossible to bury again and make them viable members of society.  These were the worst of the worst, forced to live out the last of their days incarcerated as punishment for their heinous crimes. Being a fairly new detective, he wasn’t completely prepared for the encounter.  Luckily for his ego, most of them were asleep with it being so close to midnight. 

He silently followed the guard to his person of interest.  The prisoner, Thomas Ratcliff, had specifically requested to see him.  Marcus found that odd seeing how he had never encountered the man before tonight.  However, he was willing to grant a dying man his final wish.

Reaching their destination, which was in a secluded portion of the prison, the guard called out to Thomas, “Hey, buddy, your visitor’s here.  Anything else I can get for you?”

“Naw.  Thata be all.  Thanks.”

Marcus couldn’t help but be a little surprised at the polite exchange that had just occurred between the two men.  He observed Ratcliff as he sat in his cell eating his last meal consisting of a porter house steak, a baked potato and green beans with a Budweiser to wash it all down.  He was thankful for the steel bars that separated them.  Swastikas adorned his large biceps with the message “kill all niggers” under the symbol on his left arm and “white power” under the other on his right.  His knuckles had yet more ciphers across them. 

Years of being in prison had done nothing to diminish his muscle mass.  At six feet, he was a solid frame of ripped muscle.  His long narrow nose, bald head and piercing steel gray eyes made him all the more menacing.  He had been sentenced to death for killing thirteen black men in the name of white supremacy.  The bodies had been hidden so well that he probably would have gotten away with it if he hadn’t grown a conscience and turned himself in.  Both the guard and Marcus were black.

Swallowing the lump that had risen in his throat, Marcus took the opportunity to distract himself by diverting his attention from the man to the cell he sat within.  Although the walls matched the cement gray of the building, it was a little homier than most with a comfortable looking mattress and a clean toilet.  Pictures of a little blond girl, in most of which she sported a pigtail on either side of her head, embellished the walls making them a bit more bearable.  They showed her at various ages with her hamming it up for the camera.  He noticed that each picture had a note scribbled in childlike writing underneath it. 

As the girl matured in the pictures, so did her writing skills.  In the one Marcus thought to be the last in the series she appeared to be about twelve or thirteen years of age.  She wore a smile that didn’t quite reach her pretty brown eyes and her demeanor was much more somber than in all the others.  Her hair hung past her shoulders flat, stringy and lifeless.  He couldn’t help but feel her sadness. 

Noticing the look on his visitor’s face, Thomas followed his gaze to the picture.  “Pretty, ain’t she?”  He was smiling at the picture.  Just as quickly as it came the smile faded, replaced by a look on indifference.  “She ain’t hurt no more… She’s dead,” he continued speaking in his unusual dialect.  He turned from the picture back to face Marcus, making eye contact with him.  “She don kilt herself shortly after that picture was taken.  She be sixteen went it happen.”  With that said, he returned to the consumption of his meal.

Marcus stood watching him, unable to fully understand why Thomas was so nonchalant about his daughter’s death.  He decided that he didn’t have time to find out.  Ratcliff was scheduled to be executed in two hours and he had wasted enough time already.  He needed to find out why the man had summoned him there. 

“I don’t want to keep you from your meal, Mr. Ratcliff, but why did you request to see me?”

Popping the last of his steak in his mouth, he repositioned himself in his comfy chair ready to give Marcus his full attention.  “You had a brotha, older than you… Randy Cole, right?”

“I did.”  Eighteen years later, the sadness of the loss of his brother still haunted him.

“Ya brotha…” he faltered, “ya brotha was my first victim.”  He hung his head, unable to deal with the shock then pain that came to the other man’s eyes.  “Ya see, he and my Kathy been going together.  She hid it from me…not knowing how I’d re-act.  I guess that’s my fault.  I never says anything good about those not like us.  Well, she come up with child she scared, she know’t the baby might be colored.  She tole me he raped ha.”  His eyes grew distant with the horrors of years passed.  “I couldn’t take it!  The thoughta some nigger!  Some black bastard touched my lil girl in that way!”  He spoke the words as though they were acid in his mouth. 

“I follow’t him one day afta he leave work.  First chance I get, I hit him in the head with a pipe iron an shove em in my car.  Drove him to where I hunt an waited til he woke up.  At first, I din’t know what to do with him.  Then he starts screaming, I had ta shut him up.  Thas when I cut his throat.  He didn’t die directly.  He was alive when I cut his thing off.” 

He chanced a quick look at the other man who was now collapsed against the opposite wall from his cell.  He was bent over with his hands on his knees, all the color gone from his face.  Thomas thought the man was going to be sick but he had to finish telling him.

“Something came alive in me afta that.  You know, I din’t stop with him.  One day my lil girl tol me she lied, she lied about the whole thing.  She says she love em.  She was the first to find out what I done.  Looking in ha eyes that day was tha worst day o my life!”  Emotion captured his voice, silencing him temporarily.  “I turn myself in after that.  Couldn’t bring myself to confess to ya brotha’s murder cause that one brought the most shame.  He haunts me most of all.  Kathy kilt herself… I hope she not in pain no more.  She left that lil gal wit no motha.  Mr. Cole…you ha uncle.  She’s beautiful, Mr. Cole, beautiful!”  Thomas was sobbing now.  “She won’t rememba her mother…she never know her father.  Don’t want her ta know me.  I beg you sir – please let her know you ha family!  Please!”   

Marcus remained in the same position; the wall was the only thing rooting him to consciousness.  His mind was reeling at what Thomas had just told him.  At that moment, emotions both foreign and familiar were bombarding him.  He and his parents had assumed after all these years that Randy was gone, and he was somewhat relieved to finally put an end to the mystery.  However, hearing how and why was like a punch in the gut.  He felt like the wind had literally been knocked out of him.  He was angry, hurt and confused.   

After a few minutes, Thomas was able to collect himself and continue.  “Outta guilt I felt I need to give back.  In prison I made friends wit a black man, Raheem Jones.  I protect him.  I could’t squash them damn demons o his.  He would’t say who, but someone offer him a lot of money to kill his best friend and his gal in that ole club.  They sent three thugs to help him do it.  He says they promised to keep his drugs coming for life.  He told me he was using so much he could’t pass it up.” 

Marcus had sobered with this new information.  He was once again watching Thomas as his tale continued to unfold. 
How did he know I’ve been assigned the Johnson case?  How did he know it had been reopened
? he wondered. 

“You find her, let ha know he was sorry.  He just messed up, that’s all.  It tore him up something bad; he kilt himself cause of it.  I tol ya this cause I owe ya.  I owe Raheem too.  I gone die tonight with a clear mine.  Goodbye Mr. Cole.”  With that he turned to his cot and laid down with his hands under his head.  His harsh eyes softened, as a sense of peace fell over him. 

Once again, Marcus found himself staring at the man behind bars, noticing that those cold gray eyes had tempered considerably.  It wasn’t fair.  He wanted him to live longer, to feel his pain longer after what he had taken from his family.  He had to get past this yearning because it wasn’t going to happen.  The guard reappeared and escorted him out.  Ratcliff’s confession would undoubtedly keep sleep at bay for him tonight.

Evy hardly noticed the weather during the second Friday of October.  As far as she was concerned, it was cloudy with a chance of disarray.  The girl working at the boutique had gone into labor during her shift.  The other young employee purposely put on shift with her in case this should happen panicked and ran from the store.  The one in labor was so scared and confused she wasn’t sure if she should call an ambulance or Nita to inform her of what was going on.  Fortunately, mall security had seen the other girl running from the boutique and had investigated the situation.  By then the girl’s water had broken.  He managed to get her on her way to the hospital and apprise Nita of the situation.