Betrayed (26 page)

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Authors: Suzetta Perkins

BOOK: Betrayed
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“Daddy,” Afrika said with a little more volume in her voice, her thin blue and white hospital blanket pulled up high as if she was cold. “This is my best friend, Asia, my friend, Keith, and Asia's friend, Zavion.”

Raphael nodded to the two young men but was locked in on Asia. After a moment, he looked from Afrika to Mimi to Asia. “Asia, what a pretty name. So nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Bailey,” Asia said with a smile. She turned toward Mimi. “Hello, Mrs. Bailey.”

“Hello, Asia. Hello, Keith and Zavion. Looks like Miss Afrika is coming along well.” Mimi stooped over and gave Afrika a kiss on the cheek.

“I feel much better, Mommy. I wish I could go home. What's wrong, Daddy? You look like you've seen a ghost. Look at him, Mommy.”

“I know what it is,” Asia chimed in. “Your father can't get over the fact that we resemble each other. Don't worry, Colonel Bailey, everyone does the same thing. Even our birthdays are in the same month.”

Raphael retreated…didn't say a word. He chewed on the words of this young lady. So obvious was his shock, but more than anything, Mimi had never mentioned Afrika's best friend. Was Mimi hiding something from him? Raphael finally smiled.

Raphael noticed Mimi's irritation and her convenient silence. Before Raphael could approach Mimi, the door to the room opened again. A well put together woman in a smart black pantsuit about Mimi's age rushed through the door. She looked from Mimi to Raphael, finally realizing that Raphael had to be Mimi's husband. There was no smile on her face.

“Hi, I'm Brenda,” she said to Raphael, extending her hand to greet him.

“Brenda Christianson, this is my husband, Raphael. He finally made it.”

“Nice to finally meet you, Brenda,” Raphael said. “I've heard a lot of nice things about you.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Raphael,” Brenda said. “Mimi and I go a long way back. We were best friends.”

“Brenda is also Asia's mother,” Mimi interjected.

“I do see the resemblance,” Raphael said, looking from Brenda to Asia and then to Mimi. “I'm sorry if I look perplexed. Although Mimi talked about you, I didn't know you were best friends.”

Brenda smiled. “It's easily understood. We've been estranged for many years. We lost touch and everyone moved on with their lives.”

“I guess so,” Raphael said, still sensing something else. Mimi avoided his gaze but he could tell she seemed pissed off. He loved that woman, but he had an eerie feeling…like something wasn't right and he had been caught in a dragnet.

Raphael smothered the urge to comment on how much Brenda's daughter looked so much like Afrika. No matter how much Raphael tried to toss it to the back of his head, the thought of it
kept rumbling through his brain, itching to be addressed. It would be a conversation for Mimi and him later that evening.

Niceties were set aside and Brenda lightly touched Mimi's arm, urging her with a slight movement of her head to go outside. Raphael didn't miss a beat; that eerie feeling squeezed his brain… his need to know what was going on.

“I'll be right back, Raf. Brenda needs to talk to me.”

“Okay,” Raf said as he watched the two women exit the room. He went to the edge of Afrika's bed and listened as Asia babbled on about some boys they had met. And then she said something that struck Raphael as odd—pricked his ears, made him pay close attention.

“Trevor called me today. Said my mom and dad have been acting strange. Police were even at the house.”

“Why?” Afrika asked.

“It could be domestic. Trevor said he heard my mother tell the detective that she asked Daddy for a divorce.”

Afrika tried to sit up. “I'm so sorry, Asia,” she whispered.

“They've been having problems for a while,” Asia went on, “but it seemed to get worse after you came over that day. My mom wanted to contact your mom, but Trevor heard Dad tell my mom later that he didn't want her to. Strange, huh?”

“Yeah,” Afrika said. Letting that little tidbit settle in her mind, she asked the one question Raphael had thought of. “But why would the police come to your house?”

“Trevor said that after Mom told Dad that she wanted a divorce, they started arguing and my dad picked up his coat to leave and a gun fell out of the pocket. What if he was going to try and use it on my mother?”

“So your mother called the cops?”

“It's kind of vague to me.”

“I don't mean any harm, Asia, but your dad scares me. I caught him staring at me when we cheered at our first football game. I felt weird, and I called and told my mom.”

Raphael didn't hear anything else. He turned his head toward the door the ladies had exited and wondered if their conversation had anything to do with what Asia and Afrika were talking about.

Raphael put on his thinking cap. He'd barely been home twenty-four hours but something was wrong with all the scenarios floating around him. Mimi's obvious awkwardness when John showed up and her nervousness upon him seeing Asia in the room to Brenda's need to see Mimi in private right away didn't add up. And why didn't Mimi tell him about the man staring at Afrika? Maybe that's what she had tried to tell him the night that she called, Raphael thought back.

In the military, Raphael was paid to think—to provide strategies to fight wars on foreign soil in a place they called the war room. He was in the war room, and if he had to draw a map, the pieces to the puzzle centered around his wife, her so-called best friend, Brenda, Afrika, and Brenda's husband—the one with the gun. The gun. The gun that might have been used to shoot Afrika, but why? That was what Raphael was going to find out. He needed to find Asia's father. He needed to solicit someone's help. He could use a beer or two.

“Baby cakes, Daddy's got to leave for a little while. You seem to be in good hands with Asia by your side,” Raphael said. He went to the side of the bed and kissed Afrika. “I'll be back in a while.”

“Okay, Daddy. Don't stay away too long.”

“All right, baby.”

Raphael exited Afrika's hospital room and saw Mimi consoling Brenda outside the glass doors to the ICU unit. Brenda seemed to be crying and wiped her face as Raphael approached.

“Where are you going?” Mimi inquired, surprised by Raphael's look of departure.

“I need to get some air; I'm uptight, I guess. I thought about taking John up on his offer to get some beers. Do you have his number?”

Mimi looked Raphael squarely in the eye. Raphael knew she wondered why he had the sudden desire to meet with John.

“I feel worthless. I need to find my daughter's shooter.”

Brenda and Mimi looked at each with fear in their eyes.

“What's wrong? Do you know who the shooter is?”

“No, Raf,” Mimi said a little too fast. “The police are doing all they can to find the person who did this awful thing to Afrika. I know how you are, Raf, but you're going to have to let the police do their work. I need you to be calm for Afrika and let law enforcement handle it.”

Raf looked at Mimi, the love of his life. She was shielding him from something; he could feel it in his bones. When it was time, he would deal with it. “John's number?”

Mimi pulled out her cell and pulled up John's number. Raf looked at her. His black book was empty. There had to be a good explanation why John's number was in Mimi's black book, if they had indeed just run into each other.

He punched the numbers Mimi had given him into his phone.

“Thanks. I'll be back in a while.”

Mimi sighed and watched her husband disappear behind the elevator door.

43

Raphael entered the hospital lobby, dialed John Carroll's number, and waited for him to answer.

“Hello,” said the gruff voice.

“John Carroll?”

“Who wants to know?”

“John, this is Raphael; Mimi's husband.”

Raphael heard John groan. There was a long pause before John spoke again.

“How did you get my number?”

“Mimi gave it to me. I need to get some air and I remembered your offer to go for some beers. I'm at that moment.”

John hesitated and then cleared his throat. “I'm busy right now. Maybe some other time.”

“I understand, man, but I do need to talk. My daughter is in the hospital, and the person who did this is still at-large. My hands are tied, and I need a friendly male ear to sound off my frustrations.”

“I can take a break. Where are you?”

“I'm at the hospital.”

“I'll pick you up in thirty minutes.”

“I'll be waiting in the lobby.”

J
OHN PULLED IN FRONT OF THE HOSPITAL AND DIALED
R
APHAEL
at the number that was recorded in his phone. His first impression of Raphael was that he was full of himself because he was a high-ranking officer in the military. He carried his stripes on his shoulders and John was his stepstool. John was surprised to receive Raphael's phone call.

John watched the tall, rugged man in a pair of khakis pants, a blue and yellow polo shirt, and a short tan London Fog jacket approach his Ford Explorer. Raphael's eyes were well hidden behind a pair of Giorgio Armani sunglasses, but John knew he was being inspected by the Colonel by the way he rotated his face as he looked at his SUV and then at him as he peered inside the open window.

Raphael opened the door to the vehicle not giving a second thought that it might be someone other than John in it.

“John, my man,” Raphael said as if he and John had been old friends. He jumped in and extended his hand.

John hesitated and decided to put what unspoken differences they had aside, at least for the moment. “Good afternoon, Colonel.”

“Raphael will do just fine. John, I need to go someplace where I can think and sort this whole matter out. You got me?”

John put the car in gear and headed away from the hospital. “I think I do.”

“Look, we got off on the wrong foot. Didn't mean to scrutinize you the way I did. I'm overprotective of Mimi. She's my life…my world; she's been through a lot.”

John shot Raphael a look. Mimi made it seem that life with Raphael was a fairy tale dream come true—the handsome prince and the beautiful princess. Maybe Raphael was alluding to the present stress Mimi was under with Afrika being shot. He sat back
and listened. “It's cool; no hard feelings,” John said matter-of-factly.

Raphael was silent for the next few minutes and looked straight ahead. John checked him from the corner of his eye to see if he was still breathing.

“This place is very progressive,” Raphael finally said, as they rode through Raleigh and finally into the North Hills shopping area.

“Luxury condos—I'm sure they cost a cool million with the nice restaurants and luxury hotels serving as its welcome mat. The recession isn't hurting everyone.”

“I can see that.”

“How about the Fox and Hound Pub for some cold brews?”

“I'm game.”

John led the way into the restaurant with its twenty-eight television screens serving as borders along the wall and a tournament size pool table that made John itch to rack 'em and hit 'em. Whatever was on Raphael's mind was temporarily thwarted by the scantily-clothed barmaid whose triple D's were tipping over her top like the foam in the beer mug she was handing to a customer, John noticed. They were shown to their seats, took off their jackets, ordered two mugs of beer and wings, and listened to the chatter that surrounded them.

“So what's on your mind?” John asked, getting to the point.

“Frustrated, man. My daughter is lying in a hospital bed because some crazy lunatic that belongs behind bars shot her for no reason, and all I can do is stand by helpless. If I had an ounce of a clue, I'd be out on the street now looking for that coward to put him out of his misery.”

John leaned his body forward, his elbows on the table and his hands cupped together as if he was getting ready to let Raphael in on an important secret. Then he let his hands drop and rapped
the table with his fingers, pausing a moment to formulate his words. “I know you're used to being the man in control, but let the police handle their business.” John paused again, but decided to go for it. “Mimi and Afrika are going to need you.”

Raphael looked at John and stewed on the information for a minute. “Yeah, I guess you're right. But I'm angry, man. I left my family behind, believing they were going to be fine on American soil. I was going overseas to fight a war, but damn, I never thought the war would be on the college campus where my daughter had chosen to go to school. And I wasn't even there to protect her.” Raphael slapped the table.

“We can't always protect the ones we love. I'm going to tell you something that might get me into a lot of trouble, but you need to know.”

“What is it?” Raphael asked, his eyebrows raised and giving John his full attention.

“Mimi purchased a gun.”

Raphael's eyes penetrated John's until John looked away. “My wife purchased a gun…and she didn't tell me?” Raphael finally asked and then paused to think. “For what reason would she purchase a gun? Tell me, John; you seem to have all the answers.”

“Look, Raphael; it's not like you think.”

“What's not like I think? You're doing all the talking and you sure as hell know a lot more than I do.”

“Let me start from the beginning. Mimi was my girlfriend in college.”

“Oh hell. You must be on the missing pages in Mimi's scrap-book.”

“Excuse me. Two beers and wings,” the waitress interrupted.

“Thank you,” John said, lacing his hand around one of the mugs and thanking God for the small interruption. The talk with
Raphael had gotten twisted—John had violated Mimi's trust, but now he had to go for it because Raphael was staring at him with iron eyes, and John could see the muscles in Raphael's face contract as he processed what John said. Even the muscles under Raphael's shirt were flexed. John took a sip of his beer to calm his nerves, but the other beer sat on the table untouched.

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