God's Gift to Women (26 page)

She slashed him across the face and neck. When her right arm got tired she used the left. Even after he stopped moving she continued to cut and stab. When it was over she calmly got up off the bed, picked up the camera, and took a picture of Eddie lying in the pool of blood.

“Happy New Year—playa!”

I WAS PACING back and forth in my bedroom practicing my opening line for the show.

“‘Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.’ Naw, that sounds too white!”

I cleared my throat and tried again. “‘Whassup, brothas and sistahs?’ Hell naw, that’s
way
too black!”

After fifteen years in the radio business, here I was coming down with a case of the jitters. I tried to convince myself it was just another show, but I knew better. New Year’s Eve was the highest ratings night of the year. It was also the first night the show was airing live in New York, Los Angeles, and Chicago. All my friends and family would be tuned in, not to mention all the haters from WTLK.

“You can do this, Julian!” I said while staring at my reflection in the dresser mirror. “Like Mitch said, it’s your season!”

While I was getting all pumped up, I heard Samantha’s knuckles tapping on the door.

“Are you butt
nekked
?” She laughed.

“Very funny. Come on in.”

I was in a serious mood but broke into a smile when she walked in wearing Bugs Bunny slippers and pink pajamas.

“I came to tell you to have a good show tonight.”

“Well, don’t just stand there. Come and give your old man a kiss for good luck.”

“Um,” she groaned as she smacked me on the cheek. “Give them a show they’ll never forget, Big Papa!”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay until Juanita gets here at eleven?”

“I think I can take care of myself for two hours,” she said with her hands on her hips. “I’m a big girl.”

“Just remember what I told you—”

“I know, I know. Lock the doors, set the alarm, don’t open the door for strangers, and call you on the hotline if anything happens—I got it!”

She took me by the hand and led me downstairs and then outside to my car.

“I’ll call you after midnight to wish you happy birthday.”

“Will you have my present when you get home from work?”

“Sam, you’re getting too spoiled. Didn’t I buy that expensive purse you wanted?”

“Yeah, but that was for Christmas. I want a present for my birthday, too.” She pouted. “You told me if I got good grades we would go shopping.”

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. If you get straight As on your report card I’ll take you to the mall next weekend.”

“But I showed you my report card already.”

“I’m waiting on the official copy that comes in the mail. I remember how easy it was to change a D to an A.” I laughed. “Now, let me go to work so I can afford you.”

On the way to work, I checked the mailbox. It was full of junk mail, mostly catalogs and grocery-store coupons. Underneath my
Black Enterprise
magazine I saw the bright yellow envelope from Clover Junior Academy. I ripped it open and
pulled out her report card. Sam had straight As except in her physical education class. “How in the world did that chile get a C in gym?”

I tossed the letter onto the passenger seat and sped off toward the studio. As I was driving down Highway 59, my cell phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey, baby, you miss me?”

“Who is this?”

“The love of your life; you just don’t know it yet.”

Then I recognized the voice. “Olivia! How did you get this number?”

“I’m saving that surprise for later. Right now I think you better get over to the Skylark Motel. It’s off Old Spanish Trail and Reed Street.”

“I’m not meeting you anywhere!”

“Who said anything about meeting
me
? Your buddy Eddie asked me to call. He said it was a matter of life—and death!”

“You’re full of shit, Olivia. Eddie’s in Chicago!”

“Wanna bet?” she said bluntly. “He’s in room 121. The door is unlocked.” Then she hung up.

I immediately dialed Eddie’s cell phone, but there was no answer. Then I called Denise, hoping she had heard from him. When she picked up I tried my best not to sound distressed.

“Hey, Li’l Sis!”

“Happy New Year, Julian! Whassup?”

“Oh, nothin’. Look, I was just wondering—have you heard from Eddie?”

“Yeah, he called me late last night talkin’ crazy about getting back together for the new year.”

“And?”

“And I told him to go to hell!”

“Did he say anything about coming to Houston?”

“He told me if I didn’t want him he knew somebody in Houston who did.”

“Thanks for the info, Li’l Sis. Talk to you later.”

“Wait a minute. Is everything all right?”

“Sure! I just wanted to make sure he was listening to the show tonight, that’s all.”

“Well, you know I’ll be tuned in. I’m your number one fan.” She laughed. “Don’t forget to give me a shout out!”

Now I was panicking. I checked the clock on the dash. It read 9:15. “Twenty-five minutes there, and fifteen to the studio,” I calculated out loud. “I can make it!”

As I raced toward the Skylark Motel, I thought about the promise I had made to Terri. I told her I would call the police the next time I heard from Olivia. But there was no way of knowing what they would find at the motel. I wasn’t about to take a chance on making a crank call on the most important night of my life.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” I said to myself, “but this is one promise I’ll have to break.”

THE MOMENT I pulled into the parking lot of the Skylark Motel I got a bad feeling. It was a filthy place. The windows were dirty, broken glass littered the ground, and it reeked of urine. I walked down the narrow corridor checking the numbers on the doors until I came to room 121. I could see a flashing light through a slit in the curtain. As I was about to turn the knob, I spotted a small brick lying in the dirt. I picked it up, then crept back up to the door. I was hoping to find him handcuffed to the toilet, like I did at the Park Avenue. That would have been a welcoming sight. “Here we go again,” I said to myself. “One, two, three,” then I opened the door.

“Oh—my—God!” I fell to my knees and started vomiting. My best friend was lying faceup on a blood-soaked mattress with his chest and face ripped to pieces. When I finally stopped throwing up, I stumbled around the room looking for the phone to call the police. When I found it, the cord had been cut. My cell phone was in the car, so I covered Eddie’s body with a blanket and then went to use the pay phone that was outside the door.

“Operator, send the police to the Skylark Motel off 288 and Reed Street, room 121. Please hurry!”

“Calm down, sir, and tell me your name.”

“What difference does that make? Just send the police, goddamnit! My friend is dead!”

I went back to my car and sat there trying to make sense out of what was happening. While I dried my eyes, I saw the message light blinking on my cell phone. I flipped it open and saw the studio number on the screen. It was a quarter to ten and I knew Mitch was worried about where I was. Just as I was about to return his call, the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Fast Eddie’s not so fast now—is he?”

“What the hell is wrong with you, Olivia! He never did anything to you!”

“He was a dog, and dogs sometimes need to be put to sleep!”

“He’s not asleep, he’s dead—you psychotic bitch!”

“It hurts, doesn’t it? Now you know how it feels to lose someone. Now you know what
real
pain is!”

“The next person to feel pain will be you!” I said. “When I catch up with you, Olivia, your ass is mine!”

“Oh, I like the way that sounds. Can we do it doggy style?”

“We can do it any way you want,” I was playing off her insanity. “Name the time and place.”

“How about tonight at your place? Maybe Samantha can watch.”

“You leave her out of this!”

“She’s already in it, you dumb bastard! How do you think I got your home and cell phone number after you changed them twice? Do the math. Better yet, do your
homework
!” Then she hung up.

I reached inside my pocket for my car keys. I was so pissed, I fumbled them onto the passenger seat. They landed on top of the pile of mail. That’s when I began to understand what Olivia meant by “do your homework.”

The bright yellow envelope from Samantha’s school was
the same as the one I picked up at Olivia’s house. It had fallen on the floor with the electric bill. I recalled the clover symbol in the corner. Then I remembered the name that was printed on it, Olivia R. Brown, the same as on the business card she gave me at the hotel.

“Olivia R. Brown,” I said over and over. Then it hit me. “Oh, shit, the R is for Randall. She’s the substitute music teacher!” I sped out of the parking lot while dialing my cell phone. I called home, but there was no answer. I tried calling Juanita, but she wasn’t home either. I was in a frenzy as I raced down the highway. I dialed home over and over, but Sam didn’t answer. When I put the phone down to weave through traffic, it rang.

“Please don’t hurt her!”

“Hurt who?” Mitch said. “Man, where the hell are you?”

“He’s dead, Mitch! Eddie’s dead!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Eddie’s dead! Olivia killed him!”

“Calm down, Julian, you’re not making any sense. Where are you?”

“I’m headed home. I think she’s after Samantha!”

“I’ll call the police and have them meet you there.”

“No, don’t! I’m gonna handle this myself!”

“That’s what got you into this mess in the first place. Why do you—”

I hung up on him and stepped on the gas. As I swerved in and out of traffic, my mind flashed back to Eddie’s mutilated body. I didn’t know if I would get home and find Samantha in the same condition, or worse.

____________

When I turned on to my block, I switched off my headlights and parked two doors down from the house. All the lights were
out except for the one in Samantha’s bedroom. I crept in the front door and made my way to the downstairs bathroom to get my pistol. When I felt underneath the stack of towels where I kept it, it was gone. I grabbed the pipe wrench from under the sink and moved quietly up the stairs. When I made it to her bedroom door, I put my ear to it, but there was no sound. I tried to turn the knob, but the door was locked. “Sam!” I yelled. “Sam, you in there?” When she didn’t answer I said a short prayer, then I broke the door in with my shoulder.

I was relieved and distressed when I saw she wasn’t there. But there was a box at the head of her bed. I opened it slowly, hoping not to see Samantha’s head or another body part. When I pulled the lid off, I let out a sigh of relief. Inside was a letter and a royal blue pillow. I didn’t recognize it until I turned it over and saw the embroidery on the front. It read
The Princess Is Sleeping.
It was the pillow Olivia gave me in the parking garage. She must have come back after our argument and pulled it out of the garbage. I tossed it across the room, then opened the letter.

I wish I could see the expression on your face. I bet you thought I was just gonna go away like some dollar-store ’ho. Well, you guessed wrong. I’m here until the end, until death do us part—isn’t that in the marriage vows? Well, consider us married, and the reception is tonight at the studio.

Love,

Olivia

P.S. If I see any flashing lights or hear any sirens, your little princess will never see her eleventh birthday. See you at the party!

I ripped the letter into pieces, then dialed the studio to warn Mitch. It rang several times but he didn’t answer. I tried his cell
phone next, but still nothing. “Damnit!” I said as I slammed the phone down.

I went downstairs and got a butcher knife from the kitchen, then took off running back to my car. As soon as I turned on the ignition, I heard my voice over the radio.

“Welcome back to
Love, Lust, and Lies.
I’m your host, Julian Payne. We’re talking about resolutions for the new year. Pamela from Hyde Park, what’s your comment or issue?”

“Mitch, you’re a genius!” He was playing a recorded show from WTLK in Chicago. But he still wasn’t answering the studio line. That could only mean that Olivia was already there.

As I sped toward the radio station, I was praying that Samantha and Mitch were all right, but after seeing what she’d done to Eddie I didn’t believe any of us would make it out of that studio alive.

IT WAS ELEVEN THIRTY when I arrived at the studio. I parked in front of the building and ran inside. The lobby was unusually quiet. The only sound was a small radio at the security desk tuned in to WBMX. There were no janitors emptying trash or mopping, and Joe the security guard was nowhere in sight. I held my breath as I approached the customer service desk.

I leaned over the counter as far as I could, hoping not to see his body lying on the floor, when suddenly I heard keys jiggling.

“Can I help you with something, Mr. Payne!”

It was Joe. He was walking toward me buckling his pants.

“Joe!” I gave him a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, too, Mr. Payne. Sorry I wasn’t at my post, but I had to squeeze the monkey, if you know what I mean.” He winked. “Hey, how can you be here talking to me and on the radio, too?”

“It’s a recording. I was running late and Mitch was covering for me,” I told him. “Look, Joe, have you cleared anyone to go upstairs to the studio since you’ve been on duty?”

“No one except your sister and little Sam.”

“My sister?”

“Yeah, your sister—Olivia. I signed them in about forty-five minutes ago. I didn’t want to call upstairs and spoil the surprise.”

“What surprise?”

“Samantha’s birthday,” he said. “They had a cake, balloons, presents, everything!”

“Damn!” I said.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Payne? You know I don’t usually bend the rules, but I figured, what the hell, it’s New Year’s Eve.”