Page 87
Story: Killing Them Softly
The problems began when the detectives asked me to come in, and began asking me questions about Qianna. It seems that in addition to me and Angel, Qianna had another lover. She reported her missing, and told the police that the last time she saw Qianna, she was on her way to my apartment.
Naturally, my fear was that they would figure out that Qianna had killed Tyrone, and they would assume that I was at worst, in on it, if I hadn’t planned it myself. But the detectives only asked a few questions, which I answered honestly, almost. I told them that she never made it to my apartment that night. That I was out with a friend, and we had drinks at the bar on the corner.
A few days later, the detectives returned to my apartment and told me that Qianna was a convicted murderer, whose weapon of choice was a knife.
They told me that Qianna matched the general description of the woman that was seen with Tyrone at Shooters, on the night he was killed. At that point, I was sure that they would connect her to Tyrone’s murder, and I would be arrested.
The investigation went on for over a week, and I ended up calling Angel’s lawyer friend, Wanda. After Wanda spoke with the detectives, she told me not worry, that all they had was a vague description of a black woman, and that they couldn’t place her at the scene of the crime. Wanda said that they’d shown her picture to some of the people who were at the bar that night, but none of them could positively identify her. I think that was the only thing that saved me, and I knew I had dodged a bullet.
When the case was finally laid to rest, I needed to get away for a while. Get out of the city and away from all the madness. But I didn’t want to go alone. I could only think of one person to call.
"I’ve got to get out of the city for a while," I told her.
"After all you’ve been through; I can’t say I blame you. I think that’s a good idea. Where are you thinking about going?"
"I don’t know, but I was thinking about just getting in the car, droppin’ the top, and going wherever the road takes me."
"That sound like it might be fun. I wish I could just up and go like that."
"Well, to be honest with you, that’s why I’m calling you."
"What do you mean?"
"I wanted to know if you wanted to come with me."
"Me?"
"Yes, you."
It took me a while to convince her, but I wore her down, and we planned to leave the next day. When I got to her apartment, she threw her bag in the trunk and got in the car.
"You ready to go, Angel?"
"As ready as I’ll ever be," Angel told me, and we drove away.
* * *
Naturally, my fear was that they would figure out that Qianna had killed Tyrone, and they would assume that I was at worst, in on it, if I hadn’t planned it myself. But the detectives only asked a few questions, which I answered honestly, almost. I told them that she never made it to my apartment that night. That I was out with a friend, and we had drinks at the bar on the corner.
A few days later, the detectives returned to my apartment and told me that Qianna was a convicted murderer, whose weapon of choice was a knife.
They told me that Qianna matched the general description of the woman that was seen with Tyrone at Shooters, on the night he was killed. At that point, I was sure that they would connect her to Tyrone’s murder, and I would be arrested.
The investigation went on for over a week, and I ended up calling Angel’s lawyer friend, Wanda. After Wanda spoke with the detectives, she told me not worry, that all they had was a vague description of a black woman, and that they couldn’t place her at the scene of the crime. Wanda said that they’d shown her picture to some of the people who were at the bar that night, but none of them could positively identify her. I think that was the only thing that saved me, and I knew I had dodged a bullet.
When the case was finally laid to rest, I needed to get away for a while. Get out of the city and away from all the madness. But I didn’t want to go alone. I could only think of one person to call.
"I’ve got to get out of the city for a while," I told her.
"After all you’ve been through; I can’t say I blame you. I think that’s a good idea. Where are you thinking about going?"
"I don’t know, but I was thinking about just getting in the car, droppin’ the top, and going wherever the road takes me."
"That sound like it might be fun. I wish I could just up and go like that."
"Well, to be honest with you, that’s why I’m calling you."
"What do you mean?"
"I wanted to know if you wanted to come with me."
"Me?"
"Yes, you."
It took me a while to convince her, but I wore her down, and we planned to leave the next day. When I got to her apartment, she threw her bag in the trunk and got in the car.
"You ready to go, Angel?"
"As ready as I’ll ever be," Angel told me, and we drove away.
* * *
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