“Supposedly took place two days ago, but someone uploaded the footage to their Instagram a few hours ago.”
“Probably one of the same chicks she was with in New York.”
“I didn’t see Rayven in the video.”
“Guess she wasn’t there.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, I hope you all can figure it out.”
“Jodi, wait, no. We need you. You know Lena only likes working with you. She won’t even take my calls or respond to emails.”
Sighing, I eyed the clock again. It was nine-fifteen. The sheriff’s department in Harlington was at least a twenty-minute drive from Micah’s house.
“Alecia, how is that my problem? You knew I was on leave when you made this call. I’m dealing with a heavy family matter.”
“I’m well aware. Your grandfather’s house. I get it. Trust me, I wouldn’t call if this wasn’t absolutely necessary,” she lied. Alecia would call at the drop of a dime if she thought it would benefit her in any way.
“What the hell am I supposed to do? I’m not about to get on a plane and fly to meet her.”
“Lena’s in LA.”
“I don’t give a damn if she were around the corner. I’m not going out of my way to—”
“Can you at least give her a call. Let her know that we’re handling this, and maybe, craft some sort of a statement to put out to the public. She’s jeopardizing the makeup contract she landed last year.”
I sighed and squeezed my eyes shut. My grandfather’s case and remaining focused on what was happening in Texas was my primary concern. Yet, I liked Lena. A lot. She was spoiled and a little entitled, having been in the business since she was sixteen years old, but she had a good heart. I knew she often saw through the bullshit, which, I liked to believe, was why she preferred working with me.
“I’m not making any promises, but I’ll try to reach out to her.”
“Could you do it now?”
“When I have time. And not a minute before. I have to go.” I hung up abruptly because I didn’t want Alecia to ask me for anything else. She was the ‘you give an inch, and she’d take a mile’ type. It made her successful as one of the few women of color owners of her a public relations firm, but sometimes it was a pain in my ass.
As soon as I hung up the phone, I placed my coffee mug in the sink and headed for the door, where my keys hung on the holder right next to it. Micah had programmed the door to read my thumbprint so I could gain entrance into the house whenever I needed it. I could come and go as I pleased.
While the security system that Manny and Bass installed at my place was up and running, I still didn’t feel comfortable returning there yet. Micah wasn’t in a hurry for me to leave either.
Thankfully, I was early for the ten o’clock appointment at the sheriff’s department. I parked in the lot and glanced around, remembering what Micah had told me a few days ago about keeping aware of my surroundings. Truthfully, I knew better than to let my guard down. Being mugged heightened my suspicion of everyone around me, and years of self-defense classes taught me what to look out for.
But being in an area with a much lower population and less person-to-person contact made me soft. Truthfully speaking, it wasn’t solely the geographical location. I felt safer around Micah. I’d gotten lax because I knew I could rely on him. The same feeling as when I was six and met him in the woods for the first time.
He felt as if he could control the very wind if he wanted to. I wasn’t surprised that my first reaction after being attacked in my home was to call him and not the police. My neighbor had done that. I knew Micah would come quickly when I called.
All of those thoughts passed through my mind as I pushed through the doors of the sheriff’s department. Instead of going toward the ME’s office, I made a right to head to the main lobby area of the sheriff’s department.
“Good morning, ma’am. How can I help you?” the woman dressed in a Harlington Sheriff’s Department polo shirt questioned, from behind the desk.
“I need some information. I’d like to speak to the deputy who was in charge of my grandfather’s case.”
Her dark eyebrows furrowed. “Your grandfather’s name?”
“Thomas Walker.”
“Was he involved in a crime?”
I started to nod but then stopped, remembering that his death was ruled a suicide.
“Not quite, but the sheriff’s department was called to the scene of his death,” I further explained when the woman looked confused.
