Defenseless (22 page)

“Do you need us to come down now?” Dwayne asked. He gave Sonya's hand a firm squeeze.

“Yes, I do.”

Sonya stood up from her chair. Her jaw clenched in anger. Sergeant Freeman's constant doubt of her sister was taking its toll on her. She knew that had it not been for Dwayne, she would have given him an earful.

“I'm coming with you,” Dwayne offered.

Sonya shook her head as she turned to face him. “No, you stay here. I'm sure this won't take long.”

Dwayne glanced up at her. He didn't like the idea of her being out of his sight. “I'm coming with you,” he told her instead of asking.

“Dwayne, that's insane. You have to pick Sharon up from the airport in less than an hour. I'm sure that Sergeant Freeman will bring me safely back to the hospital when this is through.” She turned back to see Freeman nod in compliance. “You stay here, and I'll see you in a few hours,” she assured. Sonya watched Dwayne struggle with his decision. She gave him a tight smile and turned to face the sergeant. “Shall we go?”

Freeman's dull brown eyes seemed to lighten as he offered her his arm. Sonya whirled away, ignoring his arm, and strode out of the room

Dwayne smiled at his self-assured businesswoman, who left Freeman to trail after her. One thing he couldn't shake was the fact that he didn't like her leaving with Freeman. He looked down at their half-eaten food and let his mind focus on what was the right thing to do.

 

Bridget heard the door to her room open. She fluttered her eyes open to see her George tiptoe into the room. He looked unsure, and Bridget was moved by his shyness.

“Hello, stranger,” she whispered.

Shock G. nearly dropped the flowers he held. “Hey,” he answered. He continued to look around the room, seemingly rooted to the spot by the door.

“Are those for me?” she asked, trying to loosen him up.

“Uh, yeah,” he answered after realizing he was still holding them. He walked closer to the bed with the flowers in his outstretched hands. Only when he arrived at her bedside did he comprehend that she was unable to take the flowers from him. “Oh, I'm sorry, I'll put them—” he looked around the room and saw a cleared spot in a chair beside her bed “—over here.”

Bridget continued smiling. “Thank you.”

George nodded his head in response. Then his face grew serious. “I couldn't believe the news when your father called.”

“My father called you?” Bridget asked, surprised.

“Yeah. He was pretty cool, really. He told me all that happened and how you really fought to hang in there.” George looked up and held her gaze. “I'm really happy you decided to come back to us.”

Bridget slowly moved her hand to touch his. “I'm happy to be back.” She watched George's eyes glaze over, and she decided to change the subject.

“George, I've been thinking a lot lately.”

“So have I,” he said with sincerity.

“What have you been thinking about?”

“You remember what you said about college and all that?” George cupped her delicate hands in his.

“Yes.”

“Well, I've been thinking. There's a lot to be said for what you were talking about. I mean, what happened to you got me thinking how short life really is. You can be here today and gone tomorrow,” he said, looking away from her.

“I've been thinking the same thing. I want to do so much more with my life. I know it sounds lame, but I remember all those speeches my dad gave me, and suddenly everything seems crystal clear.”

“I know what you mean. I keep asking myself, What do I want to do? And I'll tell you something. I'm not exactly looking forward to taking over Uncle Tyrone's business—”

“That's a relief,” Bridget interrupted. She saw his confused expression and apologized.

George laughed, then returned to his speech. “But seriously, Bridge, I dug what you said, and I want to go to college, too. Maybe I can be a big-time lawyer like your father. Maybe then he'll approve of me.”

With the rest of her strength, Bridget reached up and wiped away a few tears that trickled down his face. “Is that what you want—my father's approval?”

“More than anything.”

Dwayne closed the door to his daughter's room and shook his head. Maybe he'd been wrong about George. He was seeing a different side of him around his daughter, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. He glanced at his watch and knew he should get down to the airport if he was going to pick up Sharon and James on time.

No sooner had he turned around, did he see his sister and James heading down the hallway.

“Dwayne, we came as soon as we could,” she said, halfway down the hall with her arms outstretched.

Dwayne accepted her in a strong hug. Seeing Sharon brought all his emotions back to the surface. Sharon began to sob softly on his shoulder. Dwayne pulled her away and gazed down at her.

“She's awake,” he told her confidently.

Sharon broke away from him and stared at him. “Where is she?”

“Right here in room 718—”

That was all he could get out before Sharon raced toward Bridget's room. Dwayne turned back to James and smiled.

“I'm happy everything is all right,” James said.

“Thank you for cutting your trip short to bring her home.”

“Are you kidding? We're family. That's my little niece in there, so if you don't mind, I think I want to check on her.”

Dwayne smiled and offered James his hand. The men exchanged a firm handshake, then suddenly gave each other a brief hug. They strolled together toward Bridget's room.

“Excuse me, Mr. Hamilton?” a nurse called to Dwayne from the nurses' station.

“Yes?”

“I have a call for you on line two. He says it's urgent,” the nurse said, holding out the phone for him to take.

“Excuse me,” Dwayne said to James, who continued to head toward Bridget's room.

“Hello?”

“Dwayne?”

Dwayne recognized the powerful voice immediately. “Malik?”

“Yeah, man. I need your help,” Malik said in hushed, rapid words.

“Of course, man. Where are you? Where's Anthony?” Dwayne felt uneasy.

“I've found Laura and she needs our help
now.
”

“Okay, okay. Where are you and Anthony?”

There was an unnerving silence on the phone.

“Malik?”

“I'm sorry, Dwayne, but…Anthony's dead.”

S
onya waited patiently for Sergeant Freeman to return to his office. She had answered pointless questions for over an hour. She didn't know anything about this Odell Hill. When the sergeant pulled out a four-inch-thick police file on the man, Sonya felt faint.

Odell Hill was wanted in Alabama, Florida, Mississippi and Georgia. There were pages of reports of burglary, car-jacking and bank robberies. All this information had caused her temples to throb mercilessly.

She had allowed a murderer to stay in her house. How could she have been so gullible? Her concern for Laura's welfare heightened. Did all this mean that Laura was dead?

Sonya shook her head, not allowing herself to think the unthinkable. She had to believe Laura was still alive, despite how things looked right now. She relished this time alone while Sergeant Freeman went to find some aspirin for her. His tough interrogation played havoc with her emotions, and she sorely wished that Dwayne were here. She hated to admit the fact she had come to depend on Dwayne in ways she had never thought she would.

Even when she had seen Dwayne in his weakest state, he seemed to carry a strength she couldn't help but lean on. She allowed her mind to wander back to their short time in his home. She smiled at the vision of them singing in the kitchen, and having dinner with him and his daughter. Even watching
Gone with the Wind
with Bridget and Sharon had been fun. Somehow they'd made her feel part of the family.

Sonya embraced herself as she stood up from the chair and looked at the many pictures that hung from Freeman's wall. She had to get her mind off Dwayne and back to what was happening around her. After staring at the sergeant's pictures and medals, she found herself impressed by Sergeant Freeman.

She laughed at the younger pictures of him sporting an Afro in the seventies. When she noticed his full name inscribed on the plaques, her laughter increased.

“Find something humorous?” Freeman asked, entering the room. He handed her the aspirin and water she had requested.

Sonya quickly swallowed the pills and handed back the half-emptied glass.

Freeman removed his hat and walked behind his desk. “You didn't answer me. What was so funny?”

Sonya smiled again. “Nothing, Francis.”

Freeman scowled as he accepted the glass. “I'm glad you got such a kick out of my name.” He turned his attention back to the file he was holding. “I think that will be all for today, Miss Walters. If you like, I can take you back to wherever you're staying. Are you staying at Mr. Hamilton's residence?”

Sonya sobered as she eyed him suspiciously. “What makes you think I'm not staying at my place?”

Freeman's speech altered momentarily as he looked at Sonya, surprised. “I've tried to reach you on occasion.”

Sonya couldn't help the feeling of uneasiness settling in the pit of her stomach. “No, I think I should return to the hospital.”

Freeman nodded, but Sonya noticed the angry expression surfacing his usually calm demeanor. She retrieved her purse and walked toward the door.

“Miss Walters?” Freeman called out just before she was able to slip out.

Sonya turned around slowly, trying to hide her anxiety.

“Where are you staying, Miss Walters?”

Sonya's eyes widened in alarm.

“Just in case there's news of your sister,” he added.

Sonya edged closer to the door. “I'll call you,” she answered with as much aloofness as she could muster.

“Miss Walters?” he called again.

Sonya turned and eyed him nervously.

“Don't you still need a ride to the hospital?”

“I can manage,” she replied, then slipped out the door before he could stop her.
Something isn't right,
her inner voice seemed to shout through her headache. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she could feel that something wasn't right.

As she marched through a swarm of police officers, she felt like open prey near a den of lions. She couldn't explain that feeling. Making a quick glance over her shoulder, she wanted to make sure that Freeman wasn't behind her, but instead she slammed into the back of another officer.

“Oh, excuse me,” she apologized.

The officer held her arm too tight and too long, it seemed, as he peered quizzically into her eyes.

“Are you all right, ma'am?”

Sonya instinctively jerked her arm from his grip. “I'm just fine,” she snapped then turned her back to the officer.
I have to get out of this place.

She made it out of the police department without another incident, but now her anxiousness was replaced with the feeling of urgency. She needed to get back to the hospital—back to Dwayne. Sonya glanced from side to side, wondering how she was going to make it back without any money. Her headache intensified. When were those damn pills going to kick in?

Riffling through her purse, Sonya tried to dig out enough change to at least take the bus. No such luck. She couldn't even find enough to make a phone call. Nevertheless, she did have plastic.
How did I get in this predicament?
Looking up through the crowded streets of Atlanta, she saw Nationsbank about two blocks down. She knew she didn't have a choice, so she headed in that direction.

When Sonya emerged from the bank, she clutched her head then shook it to clear the foggy haze. She turned to look for a pay phone.

Carmen stopped at a red light across the street from Nationsbank. She removed her sunglasses and squinted at the woman in front of her.
Is that Sonya?

 

Bridget felt her spirits soar when Sharon entered her room. “Auntie,” she whispered with her fading strength.

Sharon smiled through tear-brimmed eyes and went to kiss Bridget warmly. “Oh, Bridget,” she gushed.

George stepped back to allow Sharon access to her niece. Bridget saw George's uneasiness as her uncle soon came into the room.

“Auntie, I'd like for you to meet my friend George Whitfield.”

Sharon turned and gave him a brilliant smile that instantly put George at ease. “How are you?” she asked, holding out her hand.

George accepted her hand and shook it. “Just fine, ma'am,” he answered, then looked surprised to see her uncle's hand suddenly appear. He released Sharon's and accepted James's.

It pleased Bridget to see that her aunt and uncle tried to be congenial toward George, despite his appearance. George loved wearing the baggy look, and he made no apologies for it. His clothes made him look like a gangster, but underneath he was as harmless as a fly.

Everyone's attention returned to Bridget, and she tried to remain awake as long as she possibly could before allowing her exhaustion to settle in. They soon made their excuses and left her to get some rest. Although she was tired, Bridget wondered where her father disappeared to.

 

Dwayne arrived at Malik's office earlier than agreed upon. But what he saw shocked him. Someone had already been here and left the place in shambles. He peered around the door and called Malik's name yet remained cautious. Glass was everywhere and books were thrown on the floor. When he finally found the phone, the line was dead.

He couldn't decide whether he should go and call for help or wait to see if Malik showed up. There was still the chance that Malik hadn't seen his office, and that whoever had done this did it as a warning.

Deciding to give Malik a few more minutes, Dwayne paced nervously across the small office. He thought heavily on their last words together.

Malik told him that Anthony was killed in an alley shootout. Nothing Malik told him made any sense. Malik felt like he was being followed and wanted to meet Dwayne. There had to be some kind of mistake. How could a simple meeting lead to Anthony's death?

No matter how many times he reflected on Malik's words, he was sure he had misunderstood him. But his inner voice told him it was true. It had been two days since he'd seen Anthony. It was unlike Anthony not to check in with him.

“Damn!” he cursed. What in the hell was going on? Nothing was what it seemed. This case kept going from one extreme to another, and he had no answers to any of it. Malik told him that he'd found Laura. Dwayne recalled his first meeting with Laura and remembered his strong sense of protectiveness, but he hadn't been able to protect her.

Now, with Richard's, or rather Odell's, death, he wondered if they would find Laura alive. He also knew if anything had happened to Laura, Sonya would break down mentally at the news. No matter what happened, he would be there for her, the same way she had been there for him.

Dwayne found a new level of respect for her as he remembered her strength. She had said nothing when he cried on her shoulder. She'd only whispered encouraging words and promised him that Bridget would survive, and she had.

Dwayne's thoughts were interrupted by a loud squeak.
Someone's coming in the front door.
Dwayne hid behind Malik's door and waited patiently for the intruder to come into the office.

 

Sonya had trouble focusing on the sidewalk in front of her as it seemed to spin beneath her. Someone grabbed her by the arm, she was sure of that. The problem was, she didn't know who.

“My head,” she moaned, but whoever it was ignored her complaint.

“Get in,” a loud voice commanded.

Sonya didn't have the energy to fight against whoever was guiding her into a red car.

“I don't feel so good,” Sonya whined as she continued to hold her head.

The person beside her mumbled something she couldn't understand, and she didn't care. She just wished that the dull ache in her head would disappear. Suddenly she felt hot, and it was hard for her to breathe.

“Get me to the hospital,” she whimpered, but somehow she knew her words were muddled. “Please,” she tried to say, but it was useless—she was slipping into a dark cloud. It was becoming harder and harder for her to keep her eyes open.

“Dwayne,” she called quietly, then slipped into her own dark and private world.

 

The minute the mysterious intruder had stepped into Malik's office, Dwayne jumped from behind the door and tackled the figure.

“Get off me, man,” a young voice screamed.

Dwayne could hardly contain his shock as he rolled off the crouched form. When the boy pulled himself off the floor, Dwayne realized that the boy could not be more than fifteen.

“Who are you?” Dwayne asked, getting up from the floor.

The teenager instantly copped an attitude. “That's not important. What's important is who are you, and what are you doing in my man's office?”

Dwayne restrained himself from strangling the smart-lipped boy. What he did, instead, was stroll closer to the boy and give him a hard look. “I'll ask you again—who are you?”

The boy crossed his arms and tried to give Dwayne a look of indifference, but it didn't work.

“David,” he finally answered. “My name is David.”

Dwayne gave him a satisfied look. “Nice to meet you David. I'm Dwayne.” He offered his hand as a truce, and David took his time in accepting it.

“Now what are you doing here?” Dwayne asked.

“I was looking for Malik,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

Dwayne could tell that the teenager didn't like his harsh tone, but Dwayne refused to let a child talk to him any kind of way. “When was the last time you saw Malik?” Dwayne continued to ask.

The teenager sighed as if bored from his questioning. “Most people pay to get information from me. That's my business,” he answered sarcastically.

Dwayne took a threatening step forward, and David instantly threw his hands up in surrender.

“All right, all right, man. Calm down. I kind of help my man, Malik, out every once in a while. I just came by to see if everything was cool, that's all.”

Dwayne eyed him suspiciously.

“Honestly,” David added.

Dwayne turned his attention back to the ransacked office. He walked over to the desk and began searching for clues. “You wouldn't happen to know who's responsible for this?” Dwayne asked. When he received no response, he looked up to see that he was alone in the office.

He quickly raced out of the office after the teenager, but no sooner had he stepped out of the office, something hard crashed onto the back of his head. Dwayne dropped to the floor, out cold.