Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
First National Bank sat on the corner of Main and Commerce, sandwiched between a payday loan shop and a bail bondsman. It was a corner where money was always tight and options were few. The interior was aggressively air conditioned and smelled like old carpet.
I spotted her immediately.
Tiana Williams was beautiful in that way that made you look twice and then look again.
Mixed race—Black and Asian, if I had to guess—with exotic features that drew the eye.
High cheekbones, full lips, dark eyes tilted slightly at the corners.
Her hair was pure silk, black and shining, pulled back in a low bun that couldn’t quite contain its thickness.
She was dressed professionally in a cream-colored blouse and simple gold studs, but there was nothing simple about her.
She glanced up as we approached and registered Jack’s badge. Something flickered in those red-rimmed eyes—not surprise, but resignation. Like she’d been waiting for us.
“Ms. Williams?” Jack kept his voice low, mindful of the customers nearby. “I’m Sheriff Lawson. This is Dr. Graves. Is there somewhere private we can talk?”
She nodded and turned to the teller beside her—an older woman with kind eyes and gray braids. “Rita, can you cover for me?”
Rita reached over and squeezed her arm. “Take as long as you need, baby.”
The breakroom smelled like burnt coffee and leftover microwave meals. Motivational posters lined the walls—eagles soaring, mountains being climbed. The kind of corporate inspiration that meant nothing to people who were just trying to survive until Friday.
Tiana didn’t sit. Just stood by the window, arms wrapped around herself, staring at the parking lot.
“I already know,” she said quietly. “About Dre.”
“Who told you?” Jack asked.
“T-Bone called me around six this morning. He’s a friend of Dre’s. They spar together sometimes.” She exhaled a shaky breath. “I don’t even know his real name. Everyone just calls him T-Bone. He said cops had been by the gym asking questions, and he said they found Dre…” She couldn’t finish.
“I’m very sorry for your loss,” Jack said.
She finally turned to face us. The grief in her eyes was raw and deep, the kind that settles into your bones and never fully leaves.
“I wanted to stay home today. Curl up in bed and never get out.” Her voice wavered. “But I can’t afford to miss work. And if I sit in the apartment by myself, I’m going to lose my mind. At least here I have something to do with my hands.”
I understood that. The need to move, to work, to stay busy rather than let the grief have room to breathe.
“Anything you can tell us might help us find who did this,” Jack said.
She sank into one of the plastic chairs like her legs had finally given out. I took the seat across from her.
“I don’t know. Who would want to hurt Dre?” She shook her head slowly. “He didn’t have enemies. He was kind and good and he worked so hard. Two jobs, training every day, sending money to his mama every month. He never complained. Just said it would all be worth it someday.”
“Tell us about his plans,” I said.
A small smile crossed her face. “He wanted to buy his mama a house. Get her out of that apartment. Crime has gotten real bad there, and he’s been worried about her.
He talked about it all the time—what kind of house, what neighborhood, how he was going to surprise her with the keys.
” The smile flickered. “He had it all planned out. Down to the color he was going to paint her front door. Yellow. Because she loves yellow.”
“That takes money,” Jack said carefully. “Did Dre have any bank accounts you know of? Anywhere he kept savings?”
“He banked at King George Trust before we met. That’s where his direct deposit goes from King Construction.
” She paused. “He opened a savings account here a couple months ago—that’s how we met, actually.
He came in to set it up, and I helped him.
He asked me out right there at the window.
” Her smile was sad and tears shimmered in her eyes.
“So he has accounts at both banks?”
“As far as I know. He said he liked to keep things separate. Checking at one place, savings at another.” She shrugged. “I thought it was just how he was raised. His mama probably taught him to spread things around.”
Or he was being smart about hiding money from different sources.
“What about storage units? Safe deposit boxes? Any other places he might have kept important things?”
Tiana’s brow furrowed. “No storage units. He didn’t have much stuff—just his apartment.” She paused, thinking. “He had a permanent locker at Fit24, but that’s just for extra gym clothes and workout shoes.”
“Fit24?”
“One of those twenty-four-hour gyms, over on Route 3 near the Walmart. He had a membership there for cardio—treadmills, bikes, that kind of thing. Said Iron House didn’t have good machines for that. He’d go a several times a week, usually before work on the days he wasn’t training.”
A separate gym. Away from Iron House. Away from Vic Caruso and whatever was happening there.
“Ms. Williams,” I said, “We found some things in Andre’s apartment. A significant amount of cash. And a betting slip.”
Her whole body went still. For a moment she didn’t speak.
“Tiana,” I said softly. “We’re here to find out who killed him. But we need to understand what he was involved in. Whoever did this to him deserves justice.”
Tiana stared at her hands for a long moment. When she looked up, her eyes were wet but steady.
“He told me once that construction money wasn’t enough.
That he’d never be able to give his mama the life she deserved working for somebody else.
Said he’d never be able to give me the life he wanted to if he didn’t make more.
” She swallowed hard. “I asked what he was going to do about it. He just smiled and said he had a plan. Said he was going to fight his way to the top.”
“Did you know what that meant?”
“I thought it meant going pro. Getting a real boxing career.” She shook her head slowly. “But looking back…some things don’t add up. The hours he kept. The cash he always seemed to have. The way he’d come home some nights looking like he’d been through a war.”
“When did you last see him?”
“Thursday afternoon. He stopped by the bank on his lunch break, just to say hi. Kissed me right there at the window.” Tears spilled over, tracking down her cheeks. “Rita teased me about it for an hour. Said we were like teenagers.”
“How did he seem?”
“Happy. Excited.” She pressed her fingers to her temples.
“He said he had something big happening this weekend. Something that was going to change everything. I thought—” Her voice broke.
“I thought he was going to propose. He’d been acting different lately.
Secretive, but in a good way. And he asked me to dinner Friday at this nice place downtown. Nicer than anywhere we’d ever been.”
“But he didn’t show up.”
“No.” The word came out in a ragged breath. “I sat there for two hours. Kept checking my phone, kept telling myself he was just running late. Finally went home and cried myself to sleep.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand. “And the whole time, he was already…”
I reached across and covered her hand with mine while she cried. Her skin was cold.
After a moment, Jack asked, “Did Dre ever seem scared? Like someone might be watching him, or following him?”
Tiana considered the question. “Not scared exactly. But careful. He was always aware of what was around him—checking mirrors when we drove, looking over his shoulder. I figured it was a military thing.”
“Was there ever a time he seemed more than just careful?”
She was quiet for a moment. “A few weeks ago. I was staying over at his place, and he came in really late—two, three in the morning. I woke up when he got in bed.” She paused. “He was shaking. Not like he was cold. Like he was scared.”
“Did he say what happened?”
“No. I asked, but he just pulled me close and held on like he was afraid I’d disappear.” Her voice cracked. “Said everything was fine, just a rough night. But I could feel his heart pounding. He didn’t sleep the rest of the night.”
A few weeks ago. Right around the time the crew said he’d come to work beaten worse than training could explain.
“One more thing,” Jack said. “His trainer—Vic Caruso. What did you think of him?”
Something hardened in her expression. “I only met him once when he came to the apartment one morning to pick up Dre.” Her nose wrinkled slightly. “Vic was polite enough. But there was something about him I didn’t like. The way he looked at Dre.”
“How do you mean?”
“Like he owned him.” She shrugged. “Dre said I was imagining things. Said Vic had his best interests at heart. But I know what I saw.”
Jack handed her his card and told her to call if she thought of anything else. She nodded but didn’t take her eyes off the table, tears falling silently onto the laminate surface.
We let ourselves out and closed the door behind us. Rita was waiting in the hallway, a box of tissues in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. She didn’t ask questions. Just gave us a look that said she’d take it from here, and slipped inside.
* * *
The heat hit us like a fist when we stepped outside.
“King George Trust,” I said as we crossed the parking lot. “And Fit24.”
“Two places Dre kept separate from everything else.” Jack unlocked the Tahoe. “If he was hiding something, that’s where we’ll find it.”
He cranked the AC and pulled out of the lot. I angled the vent toward my face and let the cold air bring me back to life.
“What’s the chance T-Bone is his given name?” I said.
Jack’s lips twitched. “I don’t know. I was thinking we should put it on the list of baby names.”
“I was thinking it’s more of a middle name.”
“Good to know,” he said. “As far as T-Bone is concerned, we’ll get a warrant for Dre’s phone records and cross-reference his contacts. Someone saved as T-Bone shouldn’t be hard to find.”