Hero (11 page)

Chapter Seventeen

Tonya didn’t realize she had a message on her cell until she was at work, getting ready for the first of a series of meetings with the firm of Deloitte & Touche for a surprise audit of their accounting system.

 As usual the past few weeks, it had been hectic getting Tess out of the house. The little girl was at the age where she was trying to test her limits with her parents. She and Gerald were always quick to correct Tess, but lately she’d been trying both their patience. This morning had been worse. Tonya had lost her temper and swatted Tess’s rump, something she swore she’d never do. Not that she had anything against a good swat on the rump, just that she believed it should never be done in anger. She’d apologized to a crying Tess in the car and told her that even though she was sorry, she wanted Tess to understand why she’d gotten swatted. Tess had nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Yes momma, you swatted my butt because I wasn’t listening to you and daddy…I wasn’t getting ready for school.”

So they’d talked about it on the drive to school, and after dropping Tess off with a hug and a kiss, she’d driven to work and started stressing out about her job. She’d forgotten about the surprise audit, and normally she would have used the morning commute to prepare herself mentally for it. Instead she’d been distracted by the family havoc. God, she wished she didn’t have to work. Gerald was working two jobs—his day job as an administrator for an insurance company and his night job, his dream job, as a professor of History at Penn State. That was what Gerald Brown really wanted to do; be a teacher. His specialty was American History, including pre-Columbus history, and a course in African American History, a course he’d laid out the syllabus for himself. The drawback was the teaching gigs were part-time, and Gerald was working his ass off to impress the Department Chair. One of the tenured professors was retiring this year and Gerald was up for the job. If he could get it, Tonya could either quit her job or take a less demanding position elsewhere. And when Gerald gained tenure…

In short, they were overworked and overextended and Tonya knew it. If they could only have more time for themselves…for family…

Tonya quickly dialed her voice mail as her colleagues filed into the conference room. When Mike’s voice came through she didn’t recognize it at first, then a spike of alarm went through her. She quickly rose to her feet and left the conference room.

She listened to the message a second time to confirm what she’d just heard.

“Tonya, you ready?” Her boss, Chad Duncan, was entering the conference room with her co-worker Bernie Hill. Chad’s tone suggested that he was waiting for her.

“In a minute,” she said, dismissing him by turning her back to him. She quickly speed-dialed Mike’s number and waited for it to ring through.

It rang three times.

“’Sup?”

“Mike, it’s Tonya. I just got your message.”

“Tonya! Man, I was worried as hell last night when you didn’t call me back.”

“What’s goin’ on?”

Mike quickly told her. He saw one of the nurses enter momma’s house. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes later there was a lot of noise coming from the apartment, what sounded like yelling, then a scream. Mike had stormed upstairs and pounded on the door but nobody answered. Then Natsinet answered the door—well, she spoke to him from the other side of the door. Said everything was okay, that momma just had a bad nightmare.

 “She wouldn’t let me in to check, told me she was gonna call the police.”

“Then what?”

She needed to get out there as soon as possible.

Mike told her the rest and Tonya relaxed a little. Chad poked his head out into the hall, watching her, but Tonya ignored him. Fuck his skinny ass white-collar bullshit.

“I hung out ‘til about two but everything seemed okay. Light came back on and I didn’t hear anything. Went upstairs and even listened. Didn’t sound unusual. Like she was maybe cleaning or something.”

“Cleaning?”

“Cleaning, washing dishes, somethin’ like that.”

“You go over there again?”

“Not yet. I wasn’t sure if maybe I was over-reacting.”

Tonya thought quickly. Natsinet wouldn’t let Mike in to the apartment. No arguing that. She could call and tell her Mike could go in, that might help. She was about to suggest this to Mike when Chad interrupted her.

“Tonya? We’re waiting!”

Shit!

“Listen, Mike, I gotta go, but I’m gonna call the apartment and tell Natsinet you can go in. Wait for my call, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll be here.”

“And Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. I’ll call—”

Chad again. Impatient.

“Tonya!”

Tonya lost her temper again and shot her boss a smoldering glare; part of her instantly regretted it.

That fucking asshole
, she thought as Chad stormed back into the room.
This is fucking great, now that fucking asshole’s gonna get on my ass for giving him an attitude. Christ, I wish he’d just fire me and get it over with!

Mike must have heard the exchange.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine. I gotta take care of something first real quick and then I’ll call you back.”

“Okay.”

“Give me an hour.”

They hung up. With a feeling of apprehension, Tonya entered the conference room, already coming up with a plan to worm her way out of today’s meeting and get out of here. Chad could fuck himself if he didn’t like it. If Big Mike called, she knew something was wrong. He wouldn’t just call her like that if he didn’t think it was serious.

Chapter Eighteen

Natsinet awoke to the doorbell ringing frantically and a fist pounding on the door as if someone were trying to knock it out of the frame. She looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was mid-afternoon. She’d slept more than twelve hours. The excitement from the previous evening had exhausted her more than she’d realized.

Groggily, Natsinet pulled herself from the mattress and stumbled towards the door. She seized the doorknob and was about to open it when she remembered Rachael’s dismembered body, still in the apartment. She turned and looked around the room. There were limbs wrapped in trashbags and duct tape lying on the living room floor. Rachael’s head was still sitting in the kitchen sink and her torso was on the kitchen floor, one half wrapped neatly and ready for storage, the other half only partially tucked inside a Hefty bag, slowly exsanguinating onto the linoleum.

Shit, I forgot to put them in the freezer! Goddamn!

Natsinet ran and snatched up the wrapped arms and shoved them into the freezer. The banging on the front door continued as she went back to scoop up the legs. She heard tendons pop and tear as she shattered Rachael’s kneecaps, forcing the woman’s huge legs into the freezer as well.

Fuck, I should’ve cut them in half. Why didn’t I think of that?

She then picked up the head from the sink and the half of Rachael’s torso that was still bleeding on the floor and stored them in the refrigerator.

Rachael’s eyes had begun to sink into her face, with very little brain matter behind them to hold them in place. Natsinet paused a second to regard the dead woman’s expression. It was obvious she’d died in pain and fear; in fear of Natsinet. Something about that made Natsinet feel really good, powerful, in control, the way she’d felt pointing the gun at Rachael’s face, the way she’d felt the last two weeks abusing Adelle Smith, the way she’d felt every time she’d purposely left a surgical instrument or a sponge inside a gang banger after sewing up his guts for the third or fourth time.

Natsinet was smart enough to recognize what she was becoming. She’d always known that she was a clinical sociopath but she’d been able to control it in the past, or at least hide it. Now she’d crossed the line into what criminal psychologists would refer to as an anger excitation killer: basically, a serial killer.

There was no room for the other half of Rachael’s torso. Both the refrigerator and the freezer were full to bursting with her other various parts and she couldn’t leave it there lying on the floor. One of Rachael’s enormous breasts, the nipple as long and rigid as a child’s thumb, was clearly visible, pressing against the plastic. One look and there would be no doubt of what the trash bag contained. Natsinet picked it up and ran it into her room, shoving it under her bed.  The banging on the door stopped and then the phone started ringing.

Natsinet was panting hard as she rushed to retrieve the phone.

“Hello?”

“Natsinet? This is Tonya, Adelle’s daughter. I’ve been trying to call you for the last hour. Why didn’t you answer the phone? Is my mother okay? Why are you breathing so hard? Is there something wrong over there?”

Natsinet knew right away who’d been banging on the door. It was that big Black thug from across the street. Evidently he really was a friend of the family.

He must have called Tonya and told her that I wouldn’t let him in.

“I-I was taking a nap and someone started banging on the front door,” Natsinet said, the lie springing to her lips instantly. “It scared me to death. I think they might be trying to break in. There was this hoodlum at the door last night trying to get in. I was so scared. I was going to call the cops, but he went away.”

“That’s just my friend Big Mike. I told him to check on Momma for me. You can let him in.”

The last thing Natsinet wanted to do was let that big thug into the apartment so he could poke around. She could tell he was suspicious. If he found Rachael’s body she wasn’t sure she could handle him, even with the gun.

“Are you sure? This guy was really big and he looked kind of dangerous. He was dressed like he’d just gotten out of prison or something.”

“It’s okay. He’s a friend of mine. Now, please let him in.” Tonya’s voice was cold and emotionless. She was obviously suspicious as well. Natsinet couldn’t help but notice that Tonya hadn’t asked about her mother again, as if she didn’t trust her to give her the correct information. She was waiting on Big Mike to check things out for her instead.

Natsinet paused, thinking, trying to find a way to get out of letting Mike into the apartment.

“Natsinet?”

“Yeah, I’ll let him in. Just let me get dressed first. I’m in my robe.”

Natsinet hung up the phone and rushed into Adelle’s room to clean her up. The old woman was still lying slumped on her side with drool coming from her mouth and blood caked on her chin. Natsinet grabbed a sponge and wiped her face, then she straightened her up and posed her in what she imagined was a restful position. When she was finished, she changed into a fresh pair of clothes—jeans and a blouse, no bra. She paused at the bathroom, both to make sure it looked okay and to briefly inspect herself in the mirror. Satisfied, she walked back to the door, knowing that Big Mike was still on the other side even though he’d stopped ringing the bell. He wouldn’t go away unless she made him. She opened the door.

“About damn time!”

Big Mike shouldered past Natsinet, glaring murderously down at her as he stepped into the apartment. He walked into the middle of the living room, standing directly in the spot where Rachael’s blood and brains had leaked onto the carpet, then he turned to face her as Natsinet closed the front door.

“You’re Natty right?”

“Natsinet Zenawi.”

“Yeah, they told me you was a stuck up half-White African bitch. Where’s Mrs. Smith?”

Mike leaned down until his nose almost touched Natsinet’s. Natsinet wanted to put the big man in his place for speaking so disrespectfully to her, but something about him seemed too dangerous to fool with. His physical presence was overpowering. Natsinet felt as if she were being attacked just by him standing in such close proximity to her. She backed up and Big Mike stepped forward until her back hit the wall adjacent to the door. His breath reeked of Marijuana and alcohol, yet his eyes were still clear and alert, intense.

“Well, where is she?”

“She’s in her room…sleeping. She’s had a hard day of physical therapy so please don’t disturb her. She needs her rest.”

“I ain’t gonna disturb her. I just want to make sure she’s being properly taken care of.”

He started towards Natsinet’s room and she stepped in front of him, barring his way.

“That’s my room. Adelle is in there.”

Big Mike turned away from her door, narrowing his eyes at her as he did so. Natsinet led the way to Adelle’s room.

She looked back over her shoulder and saw Mike’s eyes crawling over her ass. Her eyes met his and he winked at her and adjusted himself through his pants. She was appalled when she noticed that he was erect. At first she was outraged. She nearly turned to confront him. Then Natsinet recognized an opportunity to neutralize him as a threat.

Holding her index finger up to her lips as she opened the door, Natsinet led Mike into the room, taking his hand in hers. The curtains and blinds were drawn, shutting out the sun. The room was darkened and stank heavily of the cleansers and disinfectants Natsinet had used to clean Rachael’s blood from the tub in the adjoining master bathroom. Natsinet led Mike inside without turning on the lights.

“Mrs. Smith?” Big Mike said.

“Shhhh! You’ll wake her. I told you she’s had a hard day. She needs to rest.”

Mike jerked his hand free of hers and walked over to Adelle Smith, taking her hand in his as delicately as he was able.

“Mrs. Smith? It’s me, Big Mike, Nancy Edward’s son. Tonya sent me to check on you.”

He was about to check for a pulse when the sound of her soft snoring came to him. He let her hand drop, kissed her gently, reverently, on the forehead, and then backed quietly out of the room. Natsinet shut the door behind him.

“Is she going to be okay?” Mike’s voice was low, concern in his features. “I’m sayin’…she means a lot to a lot of folks around here.”

“She looks like she’s progressing but there are a lot of things that can go wrong with a stroke victim. Blood clots in the legs or in the lungs, pneumonia, infection, heart failure. There’s just no way of knowing when she’ll be completely out of the woods.”

Mike dropped his head. He looked almost heartbroken.

“Damn, I had no idea it was this bad.”

Natsinet placed a hand on his shoulder. It was hard as iron and nearly as big and round as a basketball. She patted him on the back and guided him back into the living room.

“Is that other nurse still here?”

“No, she’s off today.”

“But I saw her come in earlier, last night. I didn’t see her leave and I was out there most of the night.”

“She’d forgotten some personal items here from the weekend and she came to retrieve them. Her car was parked in back of the apartment complex. You probably just didn’t see her leave.”

Mike nodded solemnly.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Naw, I’m straight. Maybe some water.”

Natsinet went into the kitchen and nearly fell as she skidded in a small puddle of blood on the vinyl floor where she’d been wrapping the two halves of Rachael’s torso. Mike went into the living room and sat down heavily on the couch, sinking deep into the cushions, oblivious to Natsinet, deep in his own thoughts.

Natsinet looked down at the blood congealing on the floor and then back at Big Mike to make sure he wasn’t watching. She grabbed a sponge from beneath the sink, dampened it with water from the faucet, and quickly scrubbed the dark reddish brown stain from the floor. Then she removed a glass from the cabinet and opened the freezer to get some ice. She reached through the tangle of plastic-wrapped limbs and withdrew two ice cubes from the tray in the back, then slammed the freezer door, checking once again to make sure Mike wasn’t looking over her shoulder and hadn’t seen Rachael’s large thighs crammed in next to the ice cream and frozen peas. She dropped the cubes into the glass and turned towards Mike, summoning as warm an expression as she could muster as if she were a kid making faces in a mirror with only a vague concept of what the expression was meant to convey or the emotions generally attached to it. She’d long come to understand that her emotions were not like others.

Before walking back into the living room Natsinet removed a small steak knife from the drawer by the oven and slid it into her pants pocket. She had forgotten to load the gun and besides, the knife would be a lot quieter. Big Mike was watching her now as she stepped back into the living room holding the glass of water.

“I’m glad Mrs. Smith has someone taking care of her,” Big Mike said. He seemed like a different guy now. “If she needs anything—if you need anything, you just let me know.”

Natsinet smiled.

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

She handed Big Mike the glass of water and sat down next to him. Mike raised one eyebrow as she scooted closer to him on the couch. As he drank, she rested a hand on his thigh.

“If you need anything, you be sure to let me know also.”

Mike was obviously a man who was used to women coming on to him. In high school he’d probably been a star athlete. Basketball or football or maybe both, and on the streets he was a ghetto superstar who could have his pick of any of the neighborhood women. Still, Natsinet’s uncharacteristically bold advance caught him off guard. His eyes went from her hand to her eyes as he gulped down the rest of the ice water. She could tell he had a hard time reading her expression.

“Yeah? Okay, so what do you want wit’ me?”

Natsinet was still smiling at him.

“I just think you’re handsome, that’s all.”

Big Mike’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Uh huh. Well, you’re fine as hell but still, something ain’t right wit’ you. I just get this fucked up vibe from you like you tryin’a play me and I’ve been out there livin’ reckless long enough to know to trust my instincts.”

Natsinet laughed.

“You sound like you’re scared of me. As big as you are? I bet you could snap my neck with one hand.”

Big Mike reached out quickly and grabbed her by the throat in one of his tremendous paws, squeezing just enough so that Natsinet could feel his strength, how easily he could end her life. Her pulse sped up as fear shot adrenalin through her bloodstream.

“Believe that,” he muttered. Gone was the easy-going expression he’d slipped into after seeing Mrs. Smith. “I could kill you before you could blink.”

“Then I won’t.”

She slid the knife out of her pocket and into his gut. Mike’s eyes went wild and he tightened his grip on her throat, pinching her windpipe shut. She withdrew the knife and stabbed him again. His grip tightened. She was starting to see spots. She pulled the knife out again and this time Mike caught the blade before it could descend once more.

“You fuckin’ bitch!” Mike roared. “You tryin’ to kill me? I’m gonna rip your fucking head off!”

His grip was incredibly strong. Natsinet felt herself beginning to lose consciousness. She fought to free her hand from his grip, struggled to wrest her neck from his other hand. She was successful at neither. She could see Mike’s eyes beginning to glaze just as her own vision went black.