Authors: Suzetta Perkins
“Good evening, Mr. Myles.”
“Captain Petrowski.”
Captain Petrowski shook Jefferson’s hand. “Good to see you on the other side of the law.”
Jefferson dropped Petrowski’s hand and motioned for him to have a seat. He dismissed Petrowski’s little innuendo about his tour of duty in prison because he had more important things on his mind. “Any word about Santiago, Captain? My gut feelings tell me this is his work.”
Formalities out of the way, Captain Petrowski shared with Jefferson most of what he knew.
“We have questioned several inmates at the prison who might have witnessed Hamilton’s murder. We still have not come up with anything concrete. The Highway Patrol has been sweeping Interstate 95 for the last two or three days, but our dragnets haven’t netted anything yet. We’ve got the city pretty well surrounded, with double duty the day of the funeral.
“We’ve received word from New York that suggests Santiago could very well be tied to the murder of a well-known photographer by the name of Donna Barnes Reardon. Coincidentally, she is the cousin of Hamilton Barnes.”
“I wasn’t aware of that,” Jefferson said thoughtfully, wondering why Angelica hadn’t mentioned it to him. Brushing his curiosity
aside, Jefferson looked at the Captain. “When did this happen?”
“A month ago,” Captain Petrowski responded.
When was Angelica going to tell him? She’d been sleeping with Santiago for some time, and surely she had to have known about Hamilton’s cousin. He balled his hand into a fist and slapped it into his other, pissed that he had to hear this bit of news from the Captain.
“Is there something wrong?” Captain Petrowski asked, noting Jefferson’s agitated state.
“Wrong? Santiago is a madman, and I’m afraid he’ll do whatever he has to do to eliminate Angelica Barnes and me. I’m frustrated because he’s still running around when he should have been in prison years ago.” Petrowski looked away because he wanted Santiago more than anybody and hated that he had slipped through his fingers. “And to see my wife paralyzed with fear when those shots were fired into my house tonight…hell, I’ll admit I’m scared.”
“Wherever you choose to go tonight—I’m sure you won’t be staying at your house—we will have security for you.”
Without knocking, a police officer that had been outside gathering evidence rushed into the house.
“Captain, we’ve got a witness who saw someone shooting at this residence from a car. We’ve got a tag number and it’s from New York.”
“Get an ID on it now,” Petrowski barked. “By the way, good work!”
“Thanks, Captain. Already working on it.”
S
leep escaped Jefferson. It gnawed at him that Angelica had not shared the bit of information about the murder of Donna Barnes Reardon, Hamilton’s cousin. She had to have known because she was right there in New York when it happened. Maybe she wasn’t aware, given that she had been Santiago’s prisoner, but this was a serious matter, and it was hitting mighty close to home.
It pissed him off more that he and Margo had to uproot and leave their home for an undisclosed place because of what he feared was near. He had not been as close to God as he should have, but he was certain that Margo’s direct connection to the Father was what saved their lives. If Jefferson was a praying man, his single prayer was that God would strike Santiago dead and rid the city, state and country of a horrifying and treacherous menace.
Unsure if they were in Fayetteville or a neighboring city, Margo and Jefferson had been placed in an unmarked police vehicle and whisked away to an undisclosed location. The only thing Margo and Jefferson knew for sure was that they were holed up in a hotel suite that offered a temporary shelter away from home.
He held Margo close, satisfied that she had finally drifted off to sleep. Even her snoring was music to Jefferson’s ears because Margo’s fear was greater than his own. Uncomfortable with security protecting their privacy, they were grateful for their protection
nonetheless. Jefferson considered sending Margo to Atlanta to stay with her brother or with Ivy and J.R., but when Jefferson approached her with the idea, she pulled rank and insisted that she was going to stay by his side.
Patting Margo, Jefferson eased from underneath the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. With his elbows on his knees, he placed his forehead on the ball of his knuckles and contemplated what he should do. It was still a good idea to remove his family from harm, but he wanted to do something to make this nightmare end.
Noises in the hallway made him look up and turn his head toward the door. Cautiously, he got up and tiptoed toward the door. Reaching the door, he stretched his ear to see if could hear what was going on. Muffled words were traded but none that Jefferson could decipher. Again, he heard footsteps that seemed to be retreating—and then quiet again.
A thin layer of sweat formed on his face. Jefferson moved from the door and went to the bathroom. He relieved himself and took a face cloth and washed his face. Leaving the bathroom, Jefferson breathed a sigh of relief but was startled when he saw Margo sitting up in the bed.
“What is it, Jefferson?”
“Can’t sleep. I still hear the shots in my head from earlier this evening. I see Santiago’s face mocking me—telling me that my time is up.”
“Stop it, Jefferson,” Margo pleaded. “We can’t give into the fear or it’s going to swallow us up.”
“I’m trying, Margo. God knows I’m trying not to worry. We came so close tonight…so damn close. We could have been lying in the morgue alongside Hamilton. I keep asking myself, why? Why now?”
“We don’t know the answer to that but we have to trust that the police will do their job. We have more security protecting us than they do at Fort Knox. Unless Santiago has a well-trained network, I believe the feds and the police are in a good position to apprehend him before he does anymore harm.”
“Why didn’t they stop what happened to us tonight?” Jefferson asked with a tremble in his voice.
“Santiago had to make a move. Unfortunately, we were the targets. You know what happens when a criminal becomes anxious to carry out his mission; he sometimes becomes careless and sloppy. His desire is so strong to get revenge that he will stop at nothing to carry it out. It’s only a matter of time before he’s caught.”
Jefferson looked at Margo. He wasn’t sure where the confidence she exuded came from, but it was what he needed at this moment. Margo exercised such control over her emotions that it surprised him.
“I love you, Margo. Even at three o’clock in the morning, you’re so full of wisdom.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t afraid of the big bad wolf, but I can’t allow fear to control my destiny. Come and sit down next to me.” Margo waved Jefferson over and patted the bed. “Give me your hands; we’re going to pray.”
Jefferson sat next to Margo and put his hands in hers. He looked at her with a smile, said nothing and closed his eyes.
“Dear Lord, Jefferson and I have come to You as humbly as we know how, asking once again for Your help. There’s a crazy, mad man roaming the city who wants to kill my husband and others. I know there’s nothing too hard for You, Lord, and I ask that You would put Your loving arms around us and protect us from all hurt, harm, and danger that threatens to kill and destroy our
family. I know that we don’t always deserve Your love and blessings, but I ask that You do this for me…for us.
“My husband is a good man, Lord. He’s paid for his mistakes and he wants to do the right thing. Please forgive us for those things we have done that weren’t right in Your sight and restore us to good standing with You. You are an awesome God, Creator of all things. You would not have put the sun, moon, and stars in the heavens if you didn’t love us the way you do.
“Again, I submit my request humbly to You because You’re the only one I know who can get us out of this jam. These things I ask in Your name, Amen.”
Jefferson opened his eyes and kissed Margo. “That was beautiful. How did I get so lucky to have the best woman in all of the universe?”
Margo turned away and wiped the tears that had converged at the corners of her eyes.
God, forgive me for my transgressions,
she prayed silently. She opened her eyes and fell into Jefferson’s waiting arms. With all the firepower that surrounded them, standing guard to take out the enemy if it should decide to raise its ugly head against them, Margo and Jefferson made love, after which they settled into a restful sleep.
Jefferson’s body shook. He woke and sat straight up in the bed. Loud noises resounded in his head—
rat-a-tat tat, rat-a-tat tat, rat-a-tat tat, rat-a-tat tat.
His dreams would not retreat and release him to the real world. Santiago, surrounded by his death squad with automatic weapons, stood only several feet from his defenseless body, spraying him over the city street without an ounce of remorse.
“Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh.” Jefferson struggled to catch his breath, reeling from the dream. He clasped his throat with his hand and then dragged it down to his heart, letting it lay there for a moment until his heartbeat became normal.
Margo’s body shifted. Not feeling Jefferson next to her, she sat up in the bed. Adjusting her eyes to the darkness, she reached out to him. “What’s the matter, baby? What’s, what’s wrong?”
“Go back to sleep, Margo. I’m restless…couldn’t sleep.”
Margo sighed. “I feel guilty because that was the best sleep I’ve had in a while. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
Sighing, Jefferson looked back at Margo, contemplating if he should share his dream, and voted against it. “I want this to all go away,” he finally said. “Do you mind if I turn on the TV? I need a distraction.”
“Go ahead, but turn it down low. I can’t stand loud noises early in the morning.”
Finding the remote, Jefferson switched on the television. The morning news with John and Barbara flooded the screen.
“We have a breaking news story out of Fayetteville,” Barbara said. “Denver Grey is live in Fayetteville now.”
“Thank you, Barbara,” Denver said. “We’ve learned that last evening, around nine o’clock, the home of Jefferson and Margo Myles, in the Jordan Estates subdivision here in Fayetteville, was riddled with bullets gangland style by unknown assailants as they drove past the home. An eyewitness to the event was able to obtain the license number and identify the make of the car. The Myleses, in the meantime, were taken to an undisclosed shelter under police protection.
“Many may remember that, five years ago, Jefferson Myles, a well-known businessman in the city, was involved in a covert organization called Operation Stingray and convicted of embez
zlement. Mr. Myles was recently released from prison. Operation Stingray—headed by then leader Robert Santiago, who is still at large—was an underground organization that purchased stolen weapons from Ft. Bragg Army Base and then sold them to a rebel group in Honduras.
“The police have made a positive ID of the license plate and have the name of the owner of the vehicle, which they will not release at this time. They do say, however, that Mr. Robert Santiago, who has eluded police dragnets for five years, may be linked. There is some speculation that the murder of former Lieutenant Hamilton Barnes, who was killed at Central Prison earlier this week and was also a member of Operation Stingray, may be the work of Robert Santiago. Mr. Barnes will be laid to rest tomorrow.
“We will continue to update you on this news story as information becomes available. I’m Denver Grey reporting to you live from Fayetteville. Back to you, Barbara.”
Silence gripped the room, save for the newscasters’ continuing coverage of other local news stories. Jefferson sat glued to the television, as if in a trance, without batting a lash. Margo heard the news as well and sat up in the bed, now fully alert. Slowly, she lifted her hand and touched Jefferson’s shoulder.
“Did you hear what they said?” Margo asked.
“Didn’t miss a word. Santiago is written all over this atrocity. And you know what, Margo? I don’t feel any better with all those policemen sitting outside. He’d shoot all of them to get to me.”
“Why didn’t he try to take your life while you were in prison, as you believe he did with Hamilton?”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about that. As I try and analyze this thing, I believe it all begins with his wanting to get even with Angelica.” Jefferson jumped from the bed.
“What is it, Jefferson?” Margo asked in alarm.
Jefferson continued to pace the floor with his thumb under his chin and his index finger across his nose. “That’s it!”
“That’s what?”
“Santiago wanted to control Angelica, to get her in his clutches. She owed him after she ran out on him to warn Hamilton and me that there was a hit out on us. I believe that Angelica wasn’t playing the game he wanted her to play, so he had Hamilton killed to put the fear of God in her, and after she ran out on him, he was out for blood.”
“But why you, Jefferson? You had nothing to do with Angelica.”
“Everything connected to Angelica and Operation Stingray is tainted. Santiago has declared war and is making every effort to see that we pay for the demise of that group, although only Hamilton, Angelica, and I did time for our part in Operation Stingray.”
“It always comes back to Angelica. When will men come to their senses about the likes of that woman?”
“Margo, Angelica was trying to start her life over. If you ask me, it was almost as if she was drawn to New York by Santiago. I know it sounds far-fetched, but I wouldn’t put it past that master manipulator to have pulled something off like that.”
“You’re sounding like those soap operas now—too good to be true. But, baby, I’m beginning to think like you. Humph. You may not be far from the truth, not far at all.”
M
embers of the Fayetteville precinct that Hamilton Barnes was affiliated with filed into the church to bid farewell. Their shields of authority hung over their left breasts on their dress blues, and they looked liked an elite brotherhood. Sergeant Carl Broadnax, who was now Lieutenant Broadnax, brought up the rear.
Fear gripped Angelica as she filed into the church, followed by Edward and a host of Hamilton’s relatives. She wore a charcoal-gray suit with black embroidery along the collar, pockets, and cuffs, charcoal-gray stilettos with a black suede heel, and a matching hat that looked as if it was sliding off the side of her head. Her eyes spotted Lieutenant Broadnax and Captain Petrowski, as they watched the crowd, scanning them for clues or some subtle message that would lead them to the killer or killers of the dearly departed. She almost stopped when she saw Margo sitting next to Jefferson, obviously surrounded by police officers. Angelica could have used one of Margo’s hugs today.
As Angelica approached the front of the church, she saw him for the first time—stretched out in his dress blues with his nameplate “Barnes” placed over his breast without the shield that was the policeman’s badge of honor. Some say he didn’t deserve to wear the policeman’s uniform, but Aunt Louise fought tooth and nail for her nephew to wear the uniform that had been a large portion of his life. In the end, even the police department gave up
fighting the feisty, short woman who was going to have it her way or else.
In death, Hamilton still looked good. His hair seemed blacker than before but thinner, and he seemed very much at peace…at last.
From the tops of the few businesses that surrounded the church, sharpshooters were poised to respond to any strange activity they saw. Plainclothesmen with bulletproof vests were embedded among the mourners inside, equipped with firepower should they need it in the House of the Lord.
Various people came to the pulpit and expressed their condolences, but it was Lieutenant Carl Broadnax’s soliloquy that captured Angelica’s heart and caused her to temporarily forget the fear that had consumed her the past few days. Lieutenant Broadnax looked straight into the hearts of the people who were assembled and spoke about a man who loved the badge, the uniform, the honor among brethren, and the code that bound the men and women of the police force together. He said that Lieutenant Barnes loved life but loved protecting the city’s residents more, and he had a laugh that was contagious whenever he talked about having tucked away the city for the night after a day went by without incident.
“There were many times that we did not see eye to eye on cases we were working on,” Broadnax continued, “but I couldn’t help but love this man because, even with all of our differences, he gave me a chance to realize my dream to become a police officer, and we had the utmost respect for each other. It is with profound sadness I find myself here today. No matter what you thought or knew of Lieutenant Barnes, he had a heart—a giving heart, and…and I loved him.”
Tears welled up in Lieutenant Broadnax’s eyes, and he looked down upon his sleeping brother. He took his hand and saluted Hamilton. “My brother, farewell.”
It was too much for Angelica. A nurse rushed to her side as she broke down and wept openly. Edward rubbed her back to try and calm the pain she was feeling, but she continued to cry out loud. There was a moment of silence until the ushers were able to subdue Angelica, their fans moving in rapid succession. A soloist was next and sang “His Eye is on the Sparrow,” which caused Angelica to weep again. Aunt Lucille threw Angelica a look that said
You can cut the phony crap now,
but that didn’t stop Angelica from bawling. And after the preacher laid out a message that should have had everyone on their knees, it was time to say good-bye. It was the end of an era.
Pallbearers were lined up like pins in a bowling alley. Tension flooded the church as plainclothes officers moved into position, pivoting left and right while scanning the mourners for any possible disruptions. Giving the minister the go-ahead, the funeral procession moved down the aisle as the mourners looked on.
Angelica acknowledged different ones with a nod of her head until her eyes latched onto Margo’s. Margo seemed to look straight through her soul. She saw Jefferson take Margo’s hand and thread his fingers through hers, at which Angelica dropped her head and moved on.
They laid Hamilton to rest in a goodbye fit for a king—maybe a king of a small nation or king of a city block, but nevertheless, it was beautiful in every way.
Hamilton would have been pleased,
Angelica thought,
since he always thought highly of himself.
“Hamilton sure looked good,” Aunt Louise said as she took her seat in the limo.
“Looked like he was sleeping,” Aunt Dot added, putting her tissue in her tiny purse.
“It was a nice service. I’m glad that Angelica has stopped all that crying. It was getting on my nerves,” Aunt Louise said, crinkling her nose and glancing at Angelica from the corner of her eye.
Angelica ignored them. She found that, by not giving Aunt Louise any ammunition to get on her soapbox, she would be left alone.
“Edward, I’m not in the mood for the repast. I can eat something at the hotel,” Angelica said in a low voice.
“All right, but you might want to stop by the fellowship hall for a few minutes and say a few words to some old friends.”
“Old friends like whom, Edward? I’m really not up to the Barnes clan this afternoon,” Angelica whispered, not wanting Aunt Louise to hear.
“I think it would do you some good if you spoke to Margo. Might ease your conscience where she is concerned.”
“I don’t think I can face her. She gave me a second opportunity, and I failed miserably. I’m not up to being hospitable or faking the funk. As much as I want to, today is not the day.”
“Well, it looks like they are taking us back to the church anyway and we don’t have a ride to the hotel.”
“Oh, Edward, use your imagination. I’m sure you can call a taxi if you want to.”
“Too late. Look who’s standing at the curb. Don’t part your lips to say it.”
Angelica sat in silence as the limo pulled in front of the church. On the curb stood Margo and Jefferson, talking to several other people—the plainclothesmen close by. The day had gone off without a hitch, and everyone seemed to be in a more relaxed mood.
Edward offered his hands as Aunt Louise and Aunt Dot filed out of the limo. He extended his hand to his sister, and Angelica finally got out.
“Margo, Jefferson,” Angelica began, “I’m glad you were able to come to the service. I’m so sorry about what happened the other night at your place.”
Edward shook Margo and Jefferson’s hand. “We’re lucky to be alive,” Jefferson responded. “I’ll feel a lot better when they catch Santiago.”
Edward rubbed his right side. “I’ve got something for him, should he decide to ride up in here.”
“You packing?” Jefferson asked. “It’s a wonder the cops didn’t throw you out of the church today.”
“I guess since I came in with the family, they didn’t think to check me for hardware.”
Margo continued to stare at Angelica, who turned her head slightly in light of the awkward silence. Angelica wished she had stayed in the car, not relishing this moment at all. She tugged at Edward’s sleeve so they could move to the fellowship hall, say a few thank you’s and be on their way. Ignoring her, Edward continued to talk to Jefferson.
“How are you doing?” Margo finally asked, a coldness to her tone.
“Could be better, Margo. I’ve been through a lot these last couple of days.”
“I know what you mean. I can’t even go home—in fact, I’m afraid to go home because of some crazy lunatic that tried to kill us.”
“Look, Margo, I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything.”
“Ladies,” Jefferson cut in, “maybe we should go into the fellowship hall. It might be much safer than being out on the street.”
“Can I say this while I have the courage to do so?” Angelica asked. Jefferson looked at Margo and then at Edward and back at Angelica.
“Sure,” Jefferson said.
“Margo, I know you don’t think much of me. I don’t blame you. I’m sure you’re wondering why I left Fayetteville without saying a word. I was offered a job in New York, and since my assignment with Malik didn’t work out, I was ready to go. You know how I am. I make rash decisions without thinking them through, but I felt I needed to get as far away from Fayetteville as I could—get away from the memories that seemed to haunt me and wanted to destroy me in the process. I fled on the first thing smoking.
“When it didn’t work out in New York, I didn’t want to come crawling back. I couldn’t face you after you had extended a peace offering to me and I defaulted. One day, when I’ve finished chasing my shadow, when this whole mess with Santiago is over, I’d like to sit down and tell you about it. I so badly wanted a brand new start, but the old keeps overshadowing the new.”
“Maybe someday we can sit down and have that talk,” Margo said. “Now we better go inside. I think our shadows are getting pretty anxious because we’re making ourselves targets for whomever is trying to rattle our cages.”
“Good idea,” Edward said, pulling Angelica along.
“After you,” Jefferson said and kissed Margo on the nose. “I love you.”