When Rain Falls (14 page)

Read When Rain Falls Online

Authors: Tyora M. Moody

BOOK: When Rain Falls
12.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Chapter Twenty-five
Candace arrived at the salon early, uncertain if she'd heard a word from God. Last night she'd remained on her knees for some time, crying and pouring out everything in her heart. At some point her body felt spent, and she crawled under the covers. First time in a long time she'd slept soundly. She couldn't recall if she'd dreamt at all.
Candace switched on the overhead lights in the salon and headed to the receptionist area. A minute or two later Beulah banged through the door, with the straps of her large purse and her lunch bag wrapped around her figure. “Hey, boss lady. How ya doing today?”
“Good. Smooth morning for a change. Even Rachel and Daniel moved like they actually wanted to attend school this morning.”
Beulah laughed. “Well, that's good to hear. You look good this morning, too.”
“Let's just say I followed your advice.” Candace winked. She continued to look around the desk area. “Hey, Beulah, where's the Rolodex?”
Beulah pointed. “It should be on the shelf behind you.”
Candace took the Rolodex down and flipped to the
G
s. Mmm, that was strange. They were pretty organized about keeping names and numbers in one central location. When Beulah returned to the front of the salon, Candace asked, “Beulah, do you have a number for Hillary Green? For some reason, we don't have her listed.”
“You sure? She's been with us for two years. Seems like she should be in there. Hold on. Let me get my appointment book. I'm sure her number is in there.” A few minutes later Beulah passed a slip of paper to Candace.
“Thanks, and, Beulah, I hate to spring this on you, but can you take my one o'clock appointment today? It's just a wash 'n' set. There is something I need to do.”
“Sure, not a problem, boss lady.”
“Great.” Candace headed back to the office. After she dialed the number, she tapped her nails on her desk.
“Harris and Harris Law Firm. How may I direct your call?”
“Hillary, it's Candace Johnson.” The phone seemed to go silent on the other end. “Hillary, are you there?”
“Candace, I'm sorry. I had a call on the other line. How are you?”
“I'm doing as well as can be expected. I wondered if you can do me a favor.”
“Sure, anything.”
“Well, it might be best not to talk on the phone. Can we meet today, during lunch, maybe?”
“Certainly. Are you at the salon today?”
“Yes, but we can meet somewhere else.”
“Okay, how about the coffee shop on Lennox at noon? That's not too far for both of us, and they have wonderful gourmet sandwiches.”
“That will work. I will see you then.” Candace hung up the phone, not sure what she expected to get from talking to Hillary. She knew the woman was close enough to Pamela and Mitch to have information on their whereabouts, especially if they went anywhere together.
Candace wanted to get a time and place on those photos. Not sure why that should matter, but one thing she did know. Those photos had to be used as a form of blackmail by somebody. Who, though?
The who might explain the photo of her and Pamela. That photo being included in the bunch simply made no sense.
One thought came to her a few times as she drove toward Lennox Avenue. Maybe she should try getting in touch with the detective again. No, she would wait until she talked to Hillary and then go to him. This time she wanted to give him something more to go on.
She pulled into the parking lot, which was already full with the lunch crowd. A mixture of pastries and coffee beans seduced her nose as she followed a group of chatting women into the coffee shop. People were in motion behind and in front of the counter. She looked around. Not sure of the car Hillary drove, Candace hoped she was already here.
A waving hand caught her attention from the back. Candace clutched her bag, which still held the photos, and threaded her way around the tables in the middle.
“Candace.” The woman rose and hugged her.
Candace was glad Hillary waved at her, because she might not have recognized her. Gone was the usual bun the woman always wore; instead her long hair lay like a shawl across her shoulders. Candace exclaimed, “Look at you!”
Hillary smiled slightly. “Well, Pamela always told me I'd look much younger if I didn't wear that old bun. It's a habit.”
There was something aristocratic about Hillary. Her heritage seemed mixed. “Do you mind if I ask where you are from?”
“Well, my father hails from Barbados, and my mother was Creole, born and raised in New Orleans. I actually grew up in the bayous of Louisiana.”
“Wow, that's incredible. You know, I've never been to New Orleans. I bet you it will never be quite the same after Katrina.”
“Oh, no. My family had long since moved from the area, though. My dad, bless his heart, couldn't keep a job for long. But enough about me. I know you have something on your mind.”
Now that Candace had a chance to learn a little more about the woman, she didn't know if her intentions to dig up the truth were substantiated. She pulled the envelope out of her bag. “How are things going at the firm?”
Hillary's eyes went to the envelope and then back to Candace's face. “It's somber. A lot of Pamela's cases had to be reassigned. Mitch hasn't been in the courtroom much in the past few years, but he will be taking on a load.”
Candace rubbed her hands across the envelope. She watched Hillary take a sip of her coffee. Maybe she should have ordered a cup before sitting down.
Hillary cleared her throat. “You don't want to order something?”
“No, I can wait a bit. Too crowded around the counter now, anyway.”
“Oh. Well, I know you wanted to meet me here for a reason. I hope you don't want me to bring you something against Mitch, because I can't.”
“I wouldn't ask you to do that Hillary.” Candace reached inside the envelope and pulled out a few of the photos. She wasn't sure this was a good idea or not. If Hillary was the type to go back and tell Mitch, would these photos cause him some concern?
“Do you know about these?” She passed the photos across the table, purposely leaving out the photo of her and Pamela.
Hillary cocked her arched eyebrows and stared at each photo, remaining quiet.
Candace prodded. “Do you know where they could have been taken? I'm assuming you help Mitch with his travel arrangements.”
“Why would you think that?” Hillary passed the photos back to Candace as if she wanted to get something hot out of her hand.
“I know Pamela. She focused on her caseload so much, she barely booked vacation time for herself. I'm sure that you being Mitch's assistant, you help him plan his schedule, too, correct?”
“Those were business trips. Yes, I do make reservations, but I can't help what people do when they are on these trips.” Hillary turned her head to look out the window. She turned back around. “These photos don't prove anything. Certainly, you wouldn't plan to use them wrongfully.”
Candace was taken aback. “Of course not.” Once again, she wondered what Hillary was thinking. Hillary was obviously loyal to Mitch Harris. “Look. Somebody mailed these to me. I'm not sure who, though. Not many people were aware of Pamela's friendship with me, which makes it really odd.”
“So, what are you saying?”
Candace sighed. “I'm not saying anything. But I would like to know if you can help me find out who took these photos. Can you take a look at them again? Is there a way you can tell where Pamela and Mitch were at the time?”
Hillary shrugged her shoulders. “I guess I could look up the travel log. I'm not sure how that would help.”
“When Mitch or Pamela went out of town, how many people knew?”
“There were quite a few. I mean, even Mrs. Harris would know.”
Candace looked down at the photos again.
Of course.
These photos were taken as though somebody wanted to establish proof of this illicit affair. Who better to want photos than Mrs. Harris?
Still, why send the photos to me?
Chapter Twenty-six
Darnell loosened his tie a bit as he entered the coffee shop. The late afternoon sun blazed down on his head, making him feel all the weight on his shoulders. He needed a quick pick-me-up for his system. Really, what he wanted was a break. For the past few hours, he'd visited several area businesses that were in the range of Pamela's cell phone the night of her death. There were several open shops that could've appealed to Pamela after her run-in with Yvonne at the art gallery.
A young woman with glasses, probably about eighteen, greeted him; her silver braces glimmered under the fluorescent light.
“What can I get you today, sir?”
“A medium regular coffee.”
He didn't bother to try to decipher the menu at these places—cappuccinos, lattes, and espressos. A simple jolt of java from here would be ten times better than the mud from the police station.
When the girl brought the steaming cup to him, he placed a photo of Pamela on the counter. “Ever seen her here?”
The girl pushed her glasses up on her face and took a look. “Is that the lawyer that was murdered?”
Darnell nodded.
“I haven't seen her in here, but I just started working here.” The girl looked back. “Casey, come here.”
Another girl about the same age, but with darker hair and pale skin, walked up to the counter. Darnell picked up the photo off the counter and held it up. “I need to know if you saw this lady.”
The girl squinted her eyes, which were heavy with mascara. Her long lashes almost made it seem like she'd closed her eyes. She frowned and then responded, “Yeah, she came in here at least once a week.”
“Really?” Darnell took note of the business hours listed on the counter. “Was she in here recently with someone?”
“A guy.”
“Can you describe him?”
“I don't know. Old? He wore a suit. That's all I remember.”
Yeah, that really helps me a whole lot, kiddo.
Still, the description could fit Mitch. He took a swig of the bitter black coffee. “What about last Thursday night?”
The brunette shook her head. “I don't think I can help. I didn't work that day at all. But Jasmine did.”
“When will Jasmine be in? I really need to talk to anyone with information.”
Both girls' eyes grew wide, and they started talking simultaneously.
“Do you think the killer followed her here?” asked the girl with glasses.
“Cool,” said the brunette.
The girls had clasped their hands together as though they'd won a prize.
The brunette exclaimed, “This is like television!”
No, this is the real deal.
But Darnell didn't bother to correct her. “Here's my card. Thank you for your time, ladies.” At least he knew the coffee shop was a place to which Pamela would have ventured. It was a start to getting a better picture of what happened to Pamela after she left the art gallery. That was all Darnell could hope for.
He turned his head. A pair of women in the back caught his attention.
Candace.
What was she doing here, talking to Mitch Harris's legal assistant?
Darnell couldn't pass up an opportunity to find out. He grabbed his cup and sauntered over to the table. “Ladies, do you mind if I join you?”
Candace looked up at him. “Detective Jackson, interesting to see you here.”
Could have been his imagination, but she seemed pleased to see him. “I could say the same. You two seem to be enjoying this conversation.”
Hillary cleared her throat and then glanced at her watch. “Detective, Candace and I were just catching up. I really need to get back to the office. One of our associates will be in court in an hour. I need to make sure he has his brief ready.” Hillary rose. “Candace, if you need me, you know where to find me.”
Darnell watched Hillary walk out and then sat across from Candace. “Are you conducting your own investigation, Mrs. Johnson?”
“I have my questions.”
“Thought you were going to leave that up to me.”
“I am, but I guess Mitch and Yvonne Harris must not be persons of interest. No news, and certainly no arrests have been made.”
“Their alibis are pretty tight. You have anything else for me?”
“Just this.” His eye caught sight of the envelope Candace pushed toward him. Something seemed familiar about the yellow envelope. When he reached inside, he wasn't surprised by the contents.
This is weird.
“Where did you get these?”
“Someone mailed them to my salon.”
“You're kidding.”
“No, I'm not. I wanted to talk to Hillary because whoever mailed those photos had to be aware of this particular trip Mitch and Pamela took.”
“I got one better for you. I know who took the photos, or at least who asked for the photos.”
Her eyes sliced him, demanding he explain himself.
He had to look away. Candace's stare set forth some thoughts clearly not meant for this professional conversation. He coughed. “I have a set of these photos, too, delivered to me by Serena Manchester.”
“You're kidding. The reporter had a set of these photos? Somebody sent them to the media?”
“I know Yvonne Harris paid to have the photos taken.” As soon as Darnell let the information slip, regret crawled into his system. Why did he feel the need to fuel this woman's fire?
“I knew it. That's motive right there. She wanted to destroy her husband and his mistress.”
“Whoa, slow down.” He looked around at the other patrons before turning back to Candace. He lowered his voice. “We can't place her at the scene of the crime. Remember. Alibi.”
Candace sat back and crossed her arms. “Okay, you know what? Maybe we're thinking about this all wrong.”
We. Wait a minute.
This woman amazed him. In fact, he was really feeling her, a bit too much. He needed to back up.
Candace continued, as if she wasn't really aware of him. “You know, I can understand the photos being mailed to the media, but why send them to me?”
The thought had passed through his mind as soon as he saw the envelope contents. It smelled like a setup to him. Like someone was trying to point the finger at Mitch Harris or at least establish suspicion. Certainly, Yvonne wouldn't be that stupid. She would only incriminate her husband or herself. “Candace, are you sure you don't have anything else? Something Pamela told you.”
Candace closed her eyes for a minute. “Did you get any indication from Yvonne that she may be fearful of Mitch?”
Now that was interesting. “Why do you ask?”
“A few years ago Pamela had bruises on her face after an encounter with Mitch.”
“Did she confirm the injuries were inflicted by him?”
Candace looked deep into his eyes. “She didn't deny it.”
“Still ...”
“Mitch Harris is prone to violence if provoked. If he laid one hand on Pamela, who's to say he didn't cause injury to Yvonne?”
“That's a real stretch.”
“Look, Detective, I don't mean to be nosing into your investigation, but—”
“Then trust me, Candace. You know the routine. I need substantial evidence.”
“I know. I want to trust you.”
Darnell sat back. Where did that come from? He knew it couldn't be easy to lose a friend, but she appeared to be questioning his tactics.
Before he could inquire, Candace stood. “I'm sorry. I need to get back to the salon. Promise me you won't cross Mitch or his wife off your list just yet.”
He opened his mouth and then shut it. Darnell had seen many family members fight for justice for their loved ones. He never wanted to disappoint them. Someday soon he'd put Candace Johnson's mind at ease. He didn't too much like having to prove himself in the process, though.

Other books

Dakota Dream by Lauraine Snelling
FanningtheFlames by Eden Winters
Defiant in the Desert by Sharon Kendrick
Fall for a SEAL by Zoe York
Exiled: Clan of the Claw, Book One by S.M. Stirling, Harry Turtledove, Jody Lynn Nye, John Ringo, Michael Z. Williamson
The Dogs of Winter by Bobbie Pyron
Angel by Dani Wyatt
Demontech: Onslaught by David Sherman