What's Done In the Dark(27)

Zen still had an attitude, but I couldn’t be concerned with him as I let her lead me into the ladies’ room.

“Now, tell me what’s going on.”

“Steven died here the other night,” I cried. “He was at the bar, then he got a room, and then he died in the room, and I just don’t understand. I don’t understand what happened. I don’t know if he got some type of alcohol poisoning or if somebody killed him or what.”

“Okay, calm down. I assure you, Zen is our best bartender. If he thought Steven was anywhere near drunk enough to get alcohol poisoning, he would’ve stopped serving him.”

I wiped the warm moisture flooding my eyes. “They said it was Steven’s heart. But it just doesn’t make sense!”

She wet a paper towel and handed it to me. “Here. Wipe your face.”

I took it and dabbed my tear-streaked face.

“Look, I will find out what I can for you, okay?” she said. “But Zen is a good guy, and he wouldn’t have poisoned your husband. So just relax, and let me see what I can find out, and I’ll get back in touch with you, okay?”

I sniffed, nodding as I balled up the paper towel and tossed it in the trash.

“Look, this is all too fresh. You go home, get some rest. I’ll get your number from Felise, and we’ll talk soon, okay?”

I knew she was right. I needed to get out of there. But I also needed to figure out what was going on before I lost my mind.





17


Felise


THIS ISN’T ABOUT ME. THAT’S what I had to keep telling myself as I gathered up the strength to knock on Paula’s door. I had to focus on my goddaughter, who needed me right then. Nothing else mattered.

“Hey,” Paula’s sister said, opening the door. Although I had known Charlene for years, I didn’t think she cared too much for me. Paula always said that Charlene was jealous of how close she and I were. Her sister was never rude or anything, but she wasn’t overly nice either.

“Hi, Charlene. When did you get in?”

She gave me a polite hug. “I just got in. Trying to get everything situated.” She stepped aside to let me in.

“Tahiry called me. I was worried about her, so I came over,” I said as I cautiously advanced into the living room. I was praying that I didn’t see Paula.

“Yeah, she’s not doing too well,” Charlene replied.

“Where’s Paula and the boys?”

“The boys are upstairs moping around, too. Paula is asleep. Do you want me to wake her up?”

I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. “Nah, let her sleep.”

“Hey, Nana.”

I looked up to see Tahiry’s long figure coming down the stairs. She had on some cut-off jeans and a tank top. Her long natural hair was pulled back haphazardly into a ponytail. Over the past year Tahiry had sprouted into a young woman. Today, though, she looked like a helpless little girl.

“Hey, sweetie. I just came by to check on you. Maybe get you out of the house,” I said, trying to will a smile to come.

Her eyes were swollen and sunken. She leaned up against the railing. “And go where?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Wherever you’d like to go.”

She thought about that for a moment, then said, “I want to go back to the past. When my daddy was home.”

“Oh, honey.” I opened my arms, and she all but fell into them. She cried silent tears as I led her over to the sofa.

I let her cry for a while before I leaned back and dabbed her face. “You know what? Why don’t we go get something to eat? How about we go to that new seafood restaurant downtown?”

She grew solemn again. “My dad had promised to take me there soon.”

“Well, then that’s definitely where we need to go. We need to go in his honor,” I announced.

She managed a faint smile. “Really?”

I nodded. “Yes, really.”

“Can we also go find me something to wear? I don’t have a dress to wear to the funeral, and Mom . . .”

“And your mother is distraught,” I said, finishing the sentence. “That’s why I’m here. We’ll let her rest, and I’m going to do whatever I need to do to help you through this.”

She hugged me again. “Thank you, Nana. Just give me a minute to change,” she said before darting up the stairs.

Charlene had remained at the entrance to the living room, saying nothing. To relieve the tension of our mutual silence, I asked, “Will you be okay with the boys?”

She nodded. “They’re my nephews. I can take care of them.” But then she let her attitude go and added, “Sorry. Everyone is so stressed. The boys are upstairs just watching TV, not really saying anything. You know, none of us are used to that.”