By the time Me’shelle left the police station, she realized something. She hated cops too. Her experience with Detectives Kirkland and Richards wasn’t pretty. In the two hours that she spent with them, Me’shelle was made to feel more like she had committed the crime than like the grieving sister of the victim.
When she walked in, she had every intention of giving her full cooperation to the investigation into her brother’s murder. She was ready to offer any assistance she could to put the guilty person in jail for what they had done. They had killed her brother and sister-in-law and raped her niece. Me’shelle wanted to see them caught, tried, convicted and put away in jail for life.
She offered them the only bit information that she knew. Bruce was involved with somebody who went by the name of Chilly, and Bruce was worried because he owed money to somebody. But she couldn’t say for sure whether he owed that money to Chilly or somebody else. Me’shelle simply didn’t know.
That was all she had, and Me’shelle thought she would share that information then be free to go. However, the longer she sat there, the more Me’shelle was made to feel like she was not only involved in whatever Bruce was doing, but was involved in, if not responsible for what had happened. Their interrogation left a very bitter taste in her mouth, one that wouldn’t be easily washed away.
When she thought it was over and she could leave, Detective Kirkland started asking about Travis.
“What do you want to know about him?”
Me’shelle wasn’t listening while Kirkland asked his questions about Travis. She was lost in her own thoughts, wondering whether she should tell the detectives that Travis was involved in the grocery store robbery. The decision was easy. She was mad about the way the detectives had treated her by that point, so she had no desire to help them with anything. Besides, even though it hurt her to hear what he had told her, Me’shelle still felt love for Travis, and she couldn’t do that to him. If they found out on their own, so be it. But she would have no part in it.
Her mind drifted to what Travis had said to her about not liking police and not wanting to have anything to do with them. She now shared his opinion.
“Miss Lawrence. Did you hear what I said?” Kirkland asked.
“Yes detective, I heard what you said,” Me’shelle lied. “But I’m not exactly sure of what you’re asking me.”
“I don’t see where it’s such a tough question. Did your friend have any involvement with your brother?”
“The answer is no. But what I don’t see is what one has to do with the other.”
“It’s just a simple question, Miss Lawrence. I wouldn’t read anything into it, unless something belongs there.” From that point forward, Kirkland asked questions and made statements that implied a relationship between Travis and Bruce where none existed. Not wanting to seem defensive about the subject, Me’shelle went along and answered the questions. Kirkland didn’t even remember Travis’s name, a fact that amused Me’shelle. She wouldn’t help the detective out by saying it.
Finally, she’d had enough.
“Look, detective, I’ve said this before, but I’m going to try to explain it to you one more time so you understand what I’m sayin’. He did not know Bruce or Natalie. Now, I’ve sat here and listened to you make snotty innuendo after snotty innuendo first about me and now about my friend, and I really don’t appreciate it. I’ve told you what little I know about my brother and what he was into,” Me’shelle said and stood up, “so I’m going to go now.”
Kirkland and Richards stood up. “Thank you for coming in and talking with us, Miss Lawrence,” Kirkland said. Me’shelle didn’t respond. She was expecting and apology, but since none seemed forthcoming, she started for the door. “Detective Richards will show out,” Kirkland said and left the room.
While Detective Richards escorted Me’shelle out of the building, he offered up a half-baked apology, which he served cold. He found no takers. Me’shelle walked silently out of the building and got in her car. She understood now why Travis didn’t want to go with her to the police station to face the detective. She realized, after the treatment she received, that even though Travis didn’t know Bruce, the detective would have tried to push a connection down his throat.
That thought made her feel a little better as she drove herself home. What was still troubling was the fact that Travis not only was a robber, but he had lied to her about it all these months. Maybe if he was honest about it from the start-Get real. If he had told you what he was doing, you wouldn’t have given him the time of day.
She thought about something Travis had told her over dinner when he first started the programming job.
“This is the first programming job that I’ve had in two years.”
“How have you survived for two years without a job?” Me’shelle asked.
“Sometimes real life leads you to make real hard choices that you normally wouldn’t.” But then the waiter arrived and broke into an elaborate description of the desserts, and she never got around to asking Travis what he meant by that. Now she wished that she had.
What’s really bothering you? She asked herself. Is it what he does for money, or that he didn’t tell you?
She didn’t know, but the question had to be answered.
Chapter Thirty-one
The day had come for Brandy to be released from the hospital. Although she was still disoriented, and still plagued by uncontrollable trembling and feelings of coldness all over her body, Brandy’s condition had improved. She began to communicate again.
Me’shelle and her aunt arrived at the hospital early. However, when they walked into Brandy’s room, they found Detective Richards, the rape counselor, and a police sketch artist in the room with her.
“What in God’s name is going on here?” Juanita demanded to know as soon as they came through the door.
Brandy looked up at them and smiled. Detective Richards stood up and approached the three ladies.
“Brandy, I needed to speak with your family for a minute. Is that okay?” Judith, the rape counselor, asked.
Brandy nodded and glanced in Me’shelle’s direction. Seeing Me’shelle made her feel better. Brandy spoke slowly. “Can Aunt Me'shelle stay with me, Judith?”
“Well, Brandy, honey, I really need to speak with Me’shelle too. Is that going to be okay? I promise that it won’t take long and we’ll be right outside. Is that okay?”
“It’s okay,” Brandy said softly. Judith stood up and started for the door.
“Judith,” Brandy called.
Judith turned around. “Yes, Brandy?”
Brandy pointed at the sketch artist. “I don’t want to be alone with him.” The sketch artist got up immediately and walked out of the room.
“Does he frighten you?” Judith asked.
“No. I just don’t want to be alone with him.”
“He’s gone now, Brandy. But we need his help to catch the men who did this to you.”
“I understand.”
“I’ll stay in here with her,” Miranda offered. “I won’t do anything to upset her.”
Judith looked at Detective Richards and he nodded. Miranda sat down next to Brandy as the others left the room.
Once outside the room, Detective Richards explained that when Judith called and told him that Brandy could answer questions, he grabbed the sketch artist and came right down.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t call you, but I kind of assumed one of you would be here,” Richards said.
“That doesn’t matter,” Juanita said.
“That girl is a minor. One of us should have been here before you asked her anything,” Me’shelle added.
“Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have, but you haven’t exactly been cooperative, Ms. Lawrence. I thought it best that we go ahead. I haven’t asked any questions. I just listened while she told Judith what happened to her.”
“Me’shelle,” Judith said, “I want to assure you that Brandy has been doing fine with this. She’s been able to tell us what happened that night, and was doing very well with the sketch artist.