Authors: Tyora M. Moody
When Rain Falls (7 page)
Chapter Fifteen
As quickly as it came, the storm passed over. The limo driver entered the parking lot and stopped outside the community center. Candace and her children waited in silence as the driver walked around to open the door. Candace watched as Rachel and Daniel climbed out. She sat inside the limo a little longer, observing the streams of people heading inside the building.
“Mom?” Daniel peered at her through the car door. He resembled his father more and more every day. His wiry body appeared strong and solid.
“I'm fine.” Candace took his extended arm and stepped out on the sidewalk. The sun's rays warmed her body, but she still trembled. She clung to her son's hand for a moment and then let go.
Rachel stood a few feet away, talking to a young man who looked familiar for some reason. Candace had become well acquainted with the North Valley High basketball teams over the past few years. The tall, athletic boy could've been a team member. With the new season starting in a few weeks, she looked forward to Rachel having a focus. Frank would've wanted his daughter to continue playing the game they both loved.
She'd forgotten how Rachel's eyes lit up when she smiled. The girl stayed so sullen most of the time. Typical teenage attitude laced with a deep sadness. Right now her daughter's dimples were deep like her father's as she grinned up at the boy. Candace tried to get a better look at his face, but all she caught was his side profile. Curious, she moved in their direction, but Rachel noticed her coming. The smile, along with the dimples, disappeared.
Candace raised an eyebrow as her daughter shook her head slightly. She could at least introduce her friend. “Daniel, do you know who that is?”
“Nope. I thought we were going to eat,” he replied.
Not wanting to argue with a hungry boy, Candace eyed her daughter as she walked past. Someone had to keep the peace. She could almost hear Pamela saying, “She's growing up. Let her go.” Rachel might be almost seventeen, but she was still Candace's little girl. Her children were all she had. Especially now.
Several folks nodded in Candace's direction as she walked by them. Some people looked familiar from Sunday service, but she couldn't put names to many of the faces.
As she stepped through the doors, she stopped suddenly, causing Daniel to bump into her from behind.
“Whoa, Mom. Whatcha doing?”
The new detective stood out from the crowd. Candace wasn't sure why. Maybe because he was so tall. No, there were several men similar in height. Many of them wore expensive suits, but Detective Jackson's suit seemed to fit him in all the right places. He must have sensed her stare, because he looked in her direction. Candace pulled her eyes away from the detective. Déjà vu. They had had this same staring match at the graveside, for goodness' sake. Hopefully, he wouldn't think anything of it.
She looked away.
There he is again.
The man that stood behind the detective. Once again she felt like he'd been watching her for some reason.
Well, who is he? Why does he appear to be so familiar?
There he is again.
The man that stood behind the detective. Once again she felt like he'd been watching her for some reason.
Well, who is he? Why does he appear to be so familiar?
She grabbed Daniel's shoulder. “Uh ... why don't you go inside and grab something to eat? I'll be right behind you.” She needed to find out who this man was. Crazy to just walk up to a complete stranger, but they were in church.
“Mom, are you sure you're okay?” Daniel tilted his head, confusion written on his face.
“I'm fine. Really, I will be right behind you.”
Daniel stared at her a second longer and then shrugged. “If you say so.”
After she watched Daniel's back part from her, she looked around for the man in the crowd. She didn't have to look far. He approached her, his eyes set on her face. Despite people being around her, Candace's body tensed as the man stopped in front of her.
He held out his hand. “I'm so sorry for your loss.”
She looked down at his hand, which seemed oddly large. The man was not very tall up close, but his broad shoulders and big arms suggested he liked to hang out at the gym. “Thank you. Uh, do I know you?”
The man's smile wavered as he pulled his hand back. “I knew Ms. Coleman. I will miss her.”
Either the emotional toll of the day was really getting to her or this guy was creeping her out. She sensed there was a reason to not dismiss this man, though. “What did you say your name was again?”
Before he answered, she felt a light tap on her shoulder and spun around.
“Candace, how are you?”
“Hillary, you startled me.” She turned back around, but just as quickly as he'd appeared, the man slipped back through the crowd.
Hillary reached for her arm, her eyes concerned. “Is everything all right?”
She turned back, shaking her head. “Yeah. I'm still in shock, I guess. What about you?”
Hillary glanced around; then she reached up and cupped Candace's elbow. “Do you mind if we walk this way a little?”
She glanced around one more time, hoping to see the man again. Candace answered, “Sure.” There was no way she would forget his face.
Once around a corner, Hillary stopped. “You know, there's talk at the office that Mitch Harris is a suspect.”
“How do
you
feel about that?”
you
feel about that?”
Hillary sighed. “I don't know. I've been the legal assistant for Mitch for three years now. I kind of figured out there was more than a working relationship between Mitch and Pamela. But he wouldn't harm her. At least I don't think.”
Candace moved in closer to the older woman. “What do you mean by that? Did you see something change in their relationship for Mitch to want to kill Pamela?”
“No. He admired her, and she was one of the best lawyers. He wouldn't jeopardize the firm. I guess. I mean, what I'm trying to say is, people can do things in the heat of the moment.”
Crime of passion.
Maybe she'd listened to Frank too much or watched too many cop shows. But something had to have changed. “As her friend, I know Pamela tried several times to pull away from the relationship. Hillary, he had some type of stronghold over her. I mean, she could've worked for anyone. I told her many times she could've started her own firm.” Was that it? No, Pamela would have shared those details. Or was she going to? She hated to badger the woman, but she asked, anyway, “Are you sure you didn't notice any animosity between them?”
Maybe she'd listened to Frank too much or watched too many cop shows. But something had to have changed. “As her friend, I know Pamela tried several times to pull away from the relationship. Hillary, he had some type of stronghold over her. I mean, she could've worked for anyone. I told her many times she could've started her own firm.” Was that it? No, Pamela would have shared those details. Or was she going to? She hated to badger the woman, but she asked, anyway, “Are you sure you didn't notice any animosity between them?”
Hillary hesitated for a second. “No. I can't say that I did, but ...”
“But what?”
“I don't know. There was some tension there. Sometimes. But I really don't try to get into people's business.”
Candace stepped back. She shouldn't pressure the poor woman, but the police needed to know these things. When Pamela had brought Hillary to the salon, she'd struck Candace as such a shy woman. Quiet and unassuming. She had never really had a professional do anything to her hair. She could tell that Pamela liked the woman and wanted to help her with the then partial makeover, so she'd offered a discount.
“I'm sorry, Hillary. I know this must be hard on you, too. Kinda has you in the middle.”
Hillary's eyes watered. “But not as hard as it is on you. I understand you two have been friends since middle school.”
“Yes. It's going to be different without her.”
“I'm so sorry.”
Candace watched Hillary walk away, her shoulders hunched down.
As she stepped back into the hallway, which was now less crowded, Candace wondered if Hillary knew more than she had chosen to reveal. The air around her seemed stagnant all of a sudden. Over in a corner she saw Mitch Harris talking to Pastor Freeman. Her inclination was to move closer to listen to the conversation. She moved forward. Her movement caught Mitch's attention.
Candace couldn't read his eyes. There was sadness and something else. Pity. Surely, he wasn't trying to empathize with her.
She needed fresh air. Like now. Instead, as she turned, she bumped into one very solid body.
Chapter Sixteen
For a brief moment, Candace recognized an emotion she hadn't felt in years. The hand at the small of her back and then the one on her shoulder brought back memories of dancing with Frank. Except this partner wasn't her husband, nor was she sure why the thought occurred to her. Especially on church grounds.
“You in a hurry, Mrs. Johnson?” Detective Jackson continued to look at her with concern.
Her lips moved, but she couldn't find her voice.
What is going on? Okay, it's been a long day, and you're grieving.
Regaining her composure, she stepped backward. The detective still held his hand around her waist, as though he thought she would tumble over.
What is going on? Okay, it's been a long day, and you're grieving.
Regaining her composure, she stepped backward. The detective still held his hand around her waist, as though he thought she would tumble over.
“I'm fine. I didn't see you there.”
“Well, I'm kind of hard to miss. You know six foot and all.” He grinned.
She couldn't help but smile back. The man had a way about him that put her at ease. “Well, since I've managed to practically run you over, do you have a minute?”
“Sure. I was going to ask you the same. Are you sure you're up to talking? I would understand.”
She nodded her head. Really, she wanted to go home and lie down, but owing to her talk with Hillary, her curiosity propelled her to remain patient.
“Let's go over here.” The detective led the way to a small open office.
Once inside, she commented, “You seem to know your way around this place.”
“VG Center. I have been frequenting the place quite a bit. Recently, I decided to sign up to help with coaching the basketball team. A little extracurricular activity outside of work.”
“Interesting. My daughter plays basketball for North Valley High.”
“Yeah. She's pretty good.”
Candace smiled. “I would say so. Not that I know much about the sport other than yelling for my daughter when she has the ball in her hand.”
“Was your husband into sports?”
She was surprised by the detective's question. “Yes, he was very much a sports fanatic.”
Detective Jackson chuckled lightly.
His deep, throaty laugh put her more at ease. “Do you mind if I ask a question?”
“Sure.”
“What did Mitch Harris tell you?” For a moment, she didn't think he would respond. She had to know.
“Mr. Harris does have an alibi. Most of the people we talked to said Pamela left the art gallery early. So, there is a stretch of time during which we can't account for Ms. Coleman.”
“What do you mean?”
“Our medical examiner estimates time of death between eleven
P.M.
and midnight. There's some lost time before her death. We don't know if she arrived home and faced an intruder or if she headed somewhere else and met with someone.”
P.M.
and midnight. There's some lost time before her death. We don't know if she arrived home and faced an intruder or if she headed somewhere else and met with someone.”
“She called me.”
The detective did a double take, blinking his eyes. “When?”
“I didn't think about this until after you left the salon. I'm sorry. My mind was jumbled. But Thursday night she called around ten o'clock.” Tears drifted into her line of vision. “I think she wanted to tell me something. She called and said, âWe need to talk.' But then she got all quiet. Changed her mind.”
“Did she tell you where she was? I'm assuming she called you on her cell phone.”
She swiped a tear from her face. Why couldn't she hold herself together? This was, like, the second time she'd cried in front of this guy. Of course, she had a right to, but she didn't need the whole world to see her fall apart.
“She wasn't at the art gallery. I asked her that because I heard noise in the background, like other people were talking around her. She never did say where she was. We agreed to talk the next day. She did mention she was heading home.”
The detective wrote something down on a pad that had mysteriously appeared in his hand. “Okay, so she stopped somewhere to call you. That's going to help a lot.”
That didn't help her nerves. Why didn't she make Pamela call her back when she got home? Yeah, she professed to being tired, but that might have prevented something or at least saved her life. “So, there is a way you can track where she might have been at that time through her cell number?”
“We will certainly study the telephone records. The last known time people saw Pamela at the art gallery was a little before nine thirty. We might be able to pinpoint the location of the call. It did take about thirty minutes to get from the art gallery to her home.”
“That means someone could have left the art gallery, gone to her home, and returned.” Candace emphasized the word
returned.
She wasn't buying Mitch Harris's denial of having anything to do with Pamela's death.
returned.
She wasn't buying Mitch Harris's denial of having anything to do with Pamela's death.
She grew uncomfortable at the way the detective scrutinized her face.
He responded, “You seemed very determined to pin this on Mr. Harris. I'm sure being the wife of a detective, you know we have to have hard evidence. Not just a dislike. You got anything else for me?”
“Have you talked to Mrs. Harris?”
“You think she knew about the affair?”
“Please, women always know something isn't right. Besides, it may have been a few years ago, but Pamela, Rachel, and I were out in the mall. Mrs. Harris came up to us. She walked straight up to Pamela. They had words, and then she walked away. But by doing so, she said one thing that stood out in my mind.”
“What did she say?”
Candace swallowed. “She said, if Pamela didn't leave Mitch alone, she was going to take her down with him.”
“Sounds like any woman ready to throw down for her man.”
“Oh no, this wasn't like that. This was on another level. Pamela told me a long time ago how Mrs. Harris's money funded the law firm. Her money kept her husband comfortable and was the reason why he would never leave her. Believe me, the man had motive.”
“Pamela was one of the best lawyers at the firm. Do you really think he would risk harming her?”
“Talk to Mrs. Harris, Detective. Believe me, when my husband came to me to talk about a case, I could tell him a little something. Alibi. She's probably protecting him. Or vice versa.”
A wry smile crossed Darnell's face. “Okay, so you got a little detective in you, I see.”
“I just want justice. Pamela was my oldest and dearest friend.”
“All right, I'll run this by Brunson. It's been a long day, and you need to get some rest. By the way, if you think of anything else, here's my card.”
She stared down at the white card. Candace hoped Darnell would take her seriously and really pursue all the loose ends surrounding Mitch Harris.
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