CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
They arrived at the Memphis airport just after eleven that next morning. Grant told RJ that he wouldn’t be in that day and neither would Marti. RJ, who loved being in charge, insisted they take all the time they needed, and that he understood their need to regroup after such a harrowing night. He had no idea they weren’t even in the state of Florida anymore.
After picking up a rental car, Marti drove them straight to Eric Peterson’s house. But because Eric lived in the same neighborhood she once lived in, to get to his house she had to drive past her house. Or, more correctly, the house she once owned. That was how she and Eric met: He was in the neighborhood walking his dog and she was in the neighborhood walking herself. She and her husband Roger, and Eric and his wife LeeAnn, became fast friends.
When she stopped the car in front of the home she thought was going to be her forever home, Grant knew what that meant.
It was a beautiful mid-century-modern home, he thought, and whoever had purchased it had little kids’ toys strewn all over the front lawn.
“I hope they’re happy there,” Marti said, looking at those toys. “I know I was.” Then she squinted her eyes and corrected herself. “Before that night, I was.”
Grant took her hand and squeezed it. “You’ll be happy again, Markita. I promise you that.”
Marti smiled, but she kept her eyes on that house for several more minutes. Then she looked at him. “It’s stressful right now, but you have made me happy already, Grant. I didn’t think it was possible, but you have.”
Grant smiled, leaned over and kissed her, and it was enough. She realized that being in the present with him was enough to lift her beyond her past pain and give her hope for her future. It was time to move on. She removed her feet off of the brake, and moved on.
There were many cars at the Petersons’ house when they drove up, as if LeeAnn had already been notified of her husband’s demise and family and friends were gathering, so Marti knew she had to tread lightly.
She looked at Grant. Both of them were casually dressed, although he wore a blazer with his jeans and tucked-in shirt and she wore a waist high jacket with her jeans and tucked-in blouse, but there was something about Grant that exuded authority without him even trying to exude it. He had a look, and skin color , that Marti knew LeeAnn, an unabashed civil rights activist who blamed the man for everything wrong in black people’s lives, might not be open to. But she needed him by her side.
“If you don’t get a very warm welcome, don’t take it personally. LeeAnn is suspicious of white people, I’ll just be frank with you. But she means no harm.”
“A racist who means no harm,” said Grant. “Got it.”
Marti could have argued with him about the definition of racism, but she didn’t go there. She wasn’t in Memphis to discuss race. She was in Memphis to find out why a brother tried to kill a sister. Period. Full stop.
When she and Grant got out and rang the bell, Marti was surprised to see LeeAnn Peterson answer the door. She could tell she had been crying, but she still looked radiant. But as soon as LeeAnn saw who was standing at her door, it did her in. She pulled her old friend into her arms. “ Oh Marti !” The two friends hugged and cried. “ Oh Marti .”
For several seconds they hugged each other. And when they pulled back, both women were still emotional. “Come on in,” LeeAnn said.
Grant wasn’t sure if she even saw him standing beside Marti and he didn’t care. He wasn’t leaving Marti out of his sight. He kept his arm on her lower back and followed her in.
There was a group of people in the living room, all still digesting the news from what Grant could see, and LeeAnn escorted him and Marti into the kitchen away from the prying eyes. And ears. They sat at the small kitchen table.
“It’s so good to see you again,” LeeAnn said to Marti. “I just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.”
“Me too, girl. Me too.”
But when Marti noticed that LeeAnn was now staring at Grant, she quickly introduced him. “This is Grant McGraw, LeeAnn.”
Grant extended his hand. “I’m sorry about your loss, Mrs. Peterson.”
She shook his hand. “Thank you.”
She was tight-lipped and not nearly as warm toward Grant as she was toward Marti, but he didn’t mind. She was cordial. She was civil. She was allowing him to remain in her house and, by extension, by Marti’s side. That was enough for him.
“When were you notified?” Marti asked her.
“Late last night. But when they said he was in Belgrave, I thought they said Belfast and I’m like what was he doing in Ireland?”
The two ladies laughed through their tears. “I never heard of no Belgrave, Florida.”
“Neither had I,” Marti said, “until I was assigned there. By the way, Grant is the chief of police in Belgrave.”
“Oh! I don’t know why I assumed he was your husband or boyfriend or somebody like that. The way he kept his arm around you and seemed so protective of you.”
Marti smiled. “He’s also my boyfriend,” she said.
LeeAnn laughed. “I knew I wasn’t imagining things,” she said.
But Marti was confused. “You seem to be taking Eric’s death pretty well.”
“Oh I cried all night long, girl. I’m nearly out of tears, I cried so long. I took it real hard.”
Marti knew it was going to be a tough subject to broach. “I don’t know if the caller told you about how he died?”
“That’s the crazy part,” LeeAnn said. “When they said he tried to kill you, I was floored. I’m like what ? Eric ? He loved you. I used to think he wanted to be with you more than he wanted me.”
That piqued Grant’s interest. “You think that could have been his motive?”
But Marti shot that right down. “No way,” she said. “He knew I thought of him as a big brother. I could never see him any other way.”
Grant didn’t like the way she was so dismissive of what he saw as a reasonable motive. “But could he have seen it another way?” he asked the widow.
“I’m with Marti on that one,” said LeeAnn. “He might have wanted her, but he knew she didn’t want him. Not like that.”
“But I still can’t figure out why he would do such a crazy thing, Lee,” said Marti, her face anguished. “I can’t figure out why.”
But when LeeAnn said, “I can,” both Marti and Grant looked at each other, and then stared at LeeAnn. “You know why?” Marti asked her.
“It’s that woman. That’s why.” Then LeeAnn took a deep breath. “Let me back up. You may not know this, but Eric left me for another woman.”
Marti’s mouth literally flew open in shock. “He left you?”
“Oh yes. And she had him so wrapped around her finger that he did time for that bitch.”
Grant was intrigued. Who was this woman? But Marti was floored. “Eric went to prison?”
“He sure did. Spent almost two years in prison behind her mess.”
“Do I know her?”
“Do you know her?” LeeAnn answered Marti’s question with a question. Only her question was rhetorical because she quickly answered it herself. “Yes you know her. She was your best friend.”
“My best friend?” Then Marti’s eyes stretched wider. “Kamille? You mean Kamille? Are you telling me Eric left you to be with Kamille ?”
“That’s absolutely what I’m telling you.”
“But they couldn’t stand each other!”
“That was the public them. The private them had been having an affair for nearly a year before you left Memphis.”
Grant looked at Marti. He could tell she was stunned.
“But you know the crazy part?” LeeAnn said.
“That’s not the crazy part?” Marti asked her.
“Even after I found out about the affair,” said LeeAnn, “I stayed with his butt. But then, just a few months later, he left me for her anyway. And that’s when he got into all that trouble.”
“What trouble?”
“Kamille got fired from the police force because she was falsifying records and taking bribes all over the city.”
“ Kamille ?” Marti was still flabbergasted. “Kamille was on the take?”
“But guess who was her strongman? Guess what fool was collecting all those bribes for her?”
“Eric? Meek and mild accountant Eric?”
“That’s right! His meek and mildness left as soon as he got a taste of Kamille. And he never looked back.”
“Okay, this is a lot to unpack here, Lee. This a lot you telling me. So are saying Eric went to prison, but Kamille didn’t?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. She was fired, but she batted her pretty little eyes and they let that heifer slide. But he got two years behind that mess because he was the face of her crimes. He was the collector of her bribes. But if you ask me, it was because he wasn’t pretty like her. He wasn’t sleeping with all them rich, white men downtown who could say the word and get him off scot-free like they got her off.” She said that and glanced at Grant, as if he had something to do with it.
But Grant was worried about Marti’s mental health. He could tell she was so overwhelmed with the news that she was checking out. She couldn’t. She just couldn’t anymore.
That was when he took over. “You said you’re convinced he tried to murder Markita because of her best friend Kamille. But why would Kamille want her best friend dead?”
Marti looked at LeeAnn too. It was a reasonable question.
“I can’t tell you Kamille’s motivations. I don’t know that woman anymore. I never thought she’d sleep with my husband, but she did to the point of him leaving me for her. But I know this: Every bad thing that Eric got involved with involved her. Even when he got out of prison, he went straight back to her.”
“She took him back?”
“Oh yeah. She ain’t giving up a flunky like him. Gave him a job in her restaurant and everything. But you know that old saying that if you find a willing horse you ride it? She was gon’ ride that willing horse until it fell.” Then LeeAnn exhaled. “It fell last night.”
But Marti heard something else. “What restaurant?”
“I keep forgetting you haven’t been around here in years. But yeah, after she was fired from the force, she opened up her own restaurant with all that money from all her sugar daddies. And it’s been doing surprisingly well. One of the most successful in town.”
Grant looked at Marti. Marti couldn’t do anything but shake her head. Kamille a restaurateur? Kamille ? But then again, she would never have believed Kamille would sleep with her friend’s husband or be on the take. It was a lot she didn’t know about her so-called best friend.
“Do you know where she lives?” Grant asked LeeAnn.
“No. But she’s always at that restaurant. I know where that is.”
“Give us the address,” Grant said as he stood up. They needed to get on with it.
After giving him the address, both women hugged it out again, said their goodbyes, and then Marti and Grant left.
Marti was still reeling from all that news and wanted to stay and comfort her friend, but she knew Grant was right. They needed to get on with it. They needed answers.