“Why?” I said, to keep him talking and because I needed to know. “Why help Naut cover up what happened to begin with? Especially after you found out he’d killed someone.”
“At the time, Naut was nobody. She was Desiree Pierce. Front-page news. And now? Now it’ll all go into my book.”
And that was it. I hit him with both hands since I didn’t have much choice. The MINI Cooper lurched to the right. He righted it as I kept going. Once. Twice. I was going for a third when he lashed out with his right hand, nailed me right across the mouth. The force propelled me back, and the window cracked my head in the same spot his gun had hit before.
“Look, we can do this—”
He didn’t finish his sentence. A car was on his tail, high beams on.
“New Yorkers are so damn impatient.”
He sped up. But the car sped up too. We were both speeding toward a yellow light ahead. I looked back, hoping it was a cop but knowing it was probably a cabbie. I could see only bright lights.
I faced forward just in time to see the signal turn from yellow to red. Stuart didn’t stop. Neither did the car behind us.
Stuart was going fast. Too fast for the city. He was so busy eyeing the high beams he didn’t notice a car double-parked up ahead.
“Watch out!” I said.
He looked forward just in time to swerve into the left lane. High Beams followed suit. Stuart abruptly swung wide to turn right onto the next side street, and the car did too, cutting off a green cab.
As we turned, I could just make out the car.
A Cadillac.
Erin.
There were cars ahead but none coming from the opposite direction. Stuart careened onto the opposite side of the road, the Cadillac close behind him. Now a car was coming toward us. He swerved back into the right lane just in time. I turned around to make sure Erin also made it back. She did. Barely.
Stuart didn’t slow down. That’s when the fear left my body, wafting up and away like campfire smoke. I was going to die. And if that meant I was going to see Gram, my mom, and my sister, I was going to tell them I went out with a fucking fight.
I hit him again. And again. This time not letting up. Stuart tried to fend me off with his right hand while trying to still steer with his left. He slammed me forward, and my head hit the glove compartment. But as he did it, he instinctively eased his foot off the gas.
Erin slammed into us from behind. I remember what happened next only in bits and pieces. The car spinning, round and round like some demented Tea Cup ride. Stuart being next to me and then being gone. My seat belt stopping me from joining him.
When we stopped turning, the car had done a 180, and it was deadly silent.
*
I opened my eyes, but it was too bright so I immediately closed them again. There was a voice. Male. Deep. Talking, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. I felt a moment of fear, but it was quickly replaced with fight. I was going to fuck him up.
But when I opened my eyes again, I realized this wasn’t a car. And that wasn’t Stuart. Mel stood with his back to me, facing the light. It was as angelic as I’d ever seen him.
I had to be hallucinating.
“He’s the only reason I’m not suing your whole damn organization.”
Or maybe not. I closed my eyes again. I was in the hospital, which meant I’d survived. Even though my head felt like I was having the worst hangover of my life.
Mel kept talking. “It sure as hell isn’t because of that other one.”
When I opened my eyes again, he’d turned around. “And now you made me wake up my daughter. Tell him he can come up now.”
Conversation over, he pressed his earpiece to hang up the call. He walked right up to the standard-issue hospital table next to me and took me in. Smiled. I tried to speak, but my mouth felt like cotton.
“You need water.” He put his phone down and grabbed the pitcher from the table.
He poured me a cup and handed it over. He’d gone a bit too hard with the ice chips, but it tasted good. Better than the four-hundred-dollar bottle at his apartment. I finished the whole thing, even though it hurt to swallow. Mel’s phone rang again. He ignored it—too busy watching me. He moved only when someone knocked on the door. “Come in.”
Detective Green. The concern on his face morphed into relief. Made me realize I needed to do my own self-evaluation. My left foot was in a cast and both wrists were bruised. My throat felt raw. I raised my right hand to take stock of my head. Found it was bandaged.
But at least my left wrist didn’t itch.
Mel barely greeted Green, sharing not more than a nod before refilling my plastic cup.
“You look great, Lena,” Green said. I’m sure it was a lie but one I appreciated nonetheless. “I just wanted to come check on you. Give you an update.”
“And thank you,” Mel said.
“Yes. And thank you.”
I nodded, took a drink. I finally got one word out. “Stuart.”
“Dead.”
I’d gotten my wish, but it sure didn’t feel like world peace. If anything, it just felt like more chaos. He’d played the Magical Nonthreatening Negro role to a tee. The suits. The smile. The “I’m on your side.” Like Desiree, I had fallen for it. It would take a long time for me to get over that.
“We do consider Desiree’s case closed. Now a homicide. Same with Denise Paterson.”
I nodded. I couldn’t think about that now, and wasn’t sure I’d forgive myself later.
I thought of seeing her body, then being in that car. The chase and then: “Erin.”
She had to be okay. The Caddy was as big as the MINI Cooper was small. She had to have braced herself. There had to have been an airbag.
“We think she’s alive.”
“Think?”
I tensed, and some machine in the room beeped faster. She saved my life. Mel touched my hand holding the cup, led it to my mouth. “Drink, Melina. Erin was okay enough to walk away from the accident.”
Green nodded. “No one’s seen her since. We’d like to talk to her if she does reach out to you.”
I hoped she would. But despite this peace treaty, I doubted I’d tell them.
“We did arrest Neil Marks, so thank you for that.”
I nodded. I’m sure Naut’s arrest was front-page news, though I wondered who wrote the article. I hoped he got a shitty-ass headline.
Mel’s phone went to his lock screen. The photo was the one of the three of us. I looked at it, at Desiree smiling at me. She wasn’t perfect. She’d made mistakes, especially at the end of her life. But she’d died because she wanted to do the right thing—or at least her version of it. The guilt about not being there for her when she needed me would never go away, but I was happy that I was able to prove this for her—even if it had landed me in this hospital bed. I was exhausted, too tired to take in any more updates. Green got the hint too. “I should probably go.”
His exit was swift, leaving just me and Mel. I pretended not to notice him staring at me, as if I’d up and disappear right in front of his eyes. Finally, I looked at him.
“Drink,” he said again, and I did as told. “Aunt E was with us all night. Eventually I had someone take her home. We need to call her.”
I nodded.