Quest for Justice - Part 16

Printer-friendly version

I stayed with Queenie for three days. During that time, we talked and talked. If I'd thought that testifying before the Grand Jury was an ordeal, then I was very much mistaken. That woman clearly missed her true calling… as a trial attorney.

She probed and prodded me into telling her just about everything that had happened since I drove off into the darkness in the F-100 right up to when she picked me up at the train station.

On my last night with her, she said,
“Tiffany darlin’, I think that deep down inside you know what you want to do but you are more than a bit scared of admitting it.”

I was about to say something but she stopped me.
“The easy way out for you would be to move to Washington State, rebuild the cabin and live out your life in a place of beauty. Despite what you say about the place, that is something I can’t see you doing. Taking the easy way is not how this family has survived since we came over here from Jamacia before the Revolutionary War. We were free people then and we remained free all through the dark days of the South. Some of our people called us traitors for working for the slave owners, but we never did wrong and we kept our heads held high and looked out for those who were slaves. The writings in our family journal show that our forefathers never inflicted corporal punishment on those who were owned by the 'masters'. In those days, that was not easy just like it is now, and it is up to you to carry on that tradition. We don’t take the easy way out. That is who we are.”

I knew what she meant.
“Go and see those two women in your life. Sort out a deal for the cabin and put that in your bottom drawer. Then go to Arizona and see her. Talk it out girl to girl but darling, don’t try to impose yourself too much on her. She is also a woman of the world. She got out of her hometown just like you did and made it first as a Marine and now with the FBI, for heavens’ sake. Be honest and she’ll come around at least part of the way. Give and take is what it is all about. Don’t try to be the boss.”

“Me? The boss?”

Queenie smiled.
“You are just like your mom. She would boss her husband around something rotten, but it wasn’t her fault that he was killed by accident in a grocery store holdup. From what I’ve seen of Sylvie, she seems like a one in a million so please don’t mess it all up.”

She smiled and said,
“Besides, from what I’ve seen of her, she is good for you. She would never let you rest on your laurels. That was just like your mom but you know that don’t you?”

“My problem Queenie is that I don’t know what ‘it’ is yet.”

She laughed.
“You will when the time is right, you will and then you will feel so silly for worrying about it. Your mom was like that. She knew inside that she was carrying you and worried herself silly until the test came back positive. I tried to tell her that she should not doubt herself. The same goes for you.”

‘I’ll try Queenie, I’ll try.”

“Don’t forget to talk about the thorny subject of starting a family. Her clock is ticking if you get my meaning. I know that you want rid of your stuff but it might be good to put it to good use before it gets retired.”

I knew what she meant. The possibility of starting a family had never crossed my mind until I started having feelings for Sylvie. That would mean settling down and staying put. That was where my doubts set in.

“That is for a future date. My priority is to decide what I’m going to do about the legacy that the judge left me. I promised his daughter Naomi that I’d decide before she heads off abroad with the Diplomatic Service.”

“She sounds like a very forceful lady?”

“All I know is that I would not like to face her in a courtroom. She has this presence about her. As soon as I met her, I got this vibe. I’d had it with her father which was why I trusted him. By comparison, the DOJ lawyer from DC was about as charismatic as a piece of drying catfish after the crows had finished with it.”

Queenie laughed.
"I can see that some of your mother's influence hasn't washed entirely down the sewer. That was her way of talking about something that smelled from when she was a girl. One day, we went fishing with Scuttle Jack. He was an old sailor who lived in an old ship out near Goat Neck. When they arrived, they saw that Jack had strips of catfish drying on his ship. They stank to high heaven. From then on anything that smelled rotten was called that.”

“I never knew that. Mom used it a lot when talking about my father’s businesses.”

"That sounds about right. Channel 9 News from Wilmington the other night said that the IRS was going over the books of several of his businesses with a fine-tooth comb.”

"Good for them. I hope that they find all the bent people he worked with, but I'm afraid that a lot of the crimes are out of time for prosecution. I hope that won’t stop them from collecting all that unpaid tax.”

Queenie looked at me and raised her right eyebrow.

“Are you going to go to law school? You seem more clued up than almost any lawyer that I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet? They seem so inward-looking but girl, you have been there, done that and more. If you do become a lawyer, please promise me that you will never hang around with the other scumbags who call themselves lawyers? You are and always will be different from them, and I'm not talking physically. You have it up there in ways that most of them could never imagine,” she said, tapping her head.
She laughed.
“Besides, I could never see you in the Country Club set like all those other scumbags…”

I laughed.
"Several people have asked me that question in recent months. I only started to look at law books as a way of dreaming up all sorts of crimes that would send him down for life. Then, I got hooked on the whole trial process, especially the losing arguments; besides courtrooms are generally warm and dry places which are important when you are homeless."

“Well, are you?”

I could tell that she wasn’t going to let this go.

"I don't know. There are so many things that I want to do with my life. Going to law school and studying for the bar, takes years, and a lot of money; money that I don't have."

Queenie made a move to reply, so I put my hand up to stop her.
“I read a report that it costs way, way over two hundred grand to put someone through a good law school besides, I don’t even have a GED, but to answer your previous question, yes, if I did become a lawyer, I promise to have a life outside the law, country clubs and the like besides… what country club would have me as a member eh? The bastard offspring of a murdering philanderer and former Governor… That would not look good on a membership application now, would it?”

Queenie laughed.
“The cost hasn’t stopped a more than a few certifiable babbling idiots from getting elected to Congress, and I get your point about always being an outsider. That is what life is for people like us. No matter how rich we may get, we are always outsiders to the rich white people who run this country. Never forget that, and you will not go far wrong. We might have had a black President, but that was a warning shot to a lot of southern evangelical Christian whites with power and influence. They'll be out to make sure that Obama was a one-off and that our votes don't count the same as votes from white precincts in their new Christian Theocracy which will be more like a dictatorship than anything else we have ever experienced. Your father was already starting to promote the idea of voter fraud and ballot-rigging six months before his eventual election even though he wrote most of the laws that they were supposed to have broken. His deep red pals in the state house were lining up all sorts of bills to make it next to impossible for folks like us to vote. Eliminating early voting and mail-in ballots is just the start. He’s even talked about taking the fingerprints of everyone who comes to vote and if there is as much as one unpaid parking ticket, they will be arrested for voter fraud. I’m just thankful to our Lord that I’m no longer living in that state you used to call home although there are some moves here to do the same.”

I couldn’t answer her on those points. She was perfectly right on all counts.

“Tiff darling, it is clear that you need to be a normal person for a while, don’t you? Free of having to make your own decisions, free to make mistakes and all without the threat of someone wanting you dead. Then and only then, will you be ready to decide on where your future path lies?"

She’d got me right in the heart with that arrow.
I nodded my head.

“You like many of us had to grow up in a hurry. For you, it was the speed of light once your mom was murdered. You’ve lived on your wits for six years give or take. That takes a toll on parts of you that are mostly hidden from view. Am I right?”

I sighed.
“As usual Queenie, you can read me like a book.”

She laughed.
"Twenty or so years ago, I gave much the same speech to your mom. She'd not had the same sort of life as you, but being suddenly left alone like she was for her was just as traumatic. She came good and raised you the right way. If she hadn't, then you would not be here with me right now.”

Her words hit home. Hard.

“Darling, just ask yourself this… ‘Can Sylvie let you carry on growing up from little girl I used to know into the fine woman that I see before me?' You are still an unfinished masterpiece despite what you look like. Inside you, there are a lot of things that need work. From what I saw of Sylvie, she fits the bill perfectly."

“I don’t know. There is so much that I don’t know about so many things.”

“Then go and talk it over with her face to face. Make sure that it is not all about you.”

“Me?”

"Yes, you. For years, you have been thinking about you and only you. If you and she are going to make a thing of it, then you will have to let her into your life even more than she has been up to now, understand?"

"Yes, Mom, I understand."

"Good. Now it is time to hit the sack, and get yourself ready for tomorrow."


Phoenix was hot and dry after the very autumnal east coast, even at 8 pm. Still, it wasn't raining as it had done all the way from Queenie's home to Dulles. I'd booked a hotel away from the airport but not in the city centre. Paying for it would not be an issue, as I had the cash, but I had to rely on the credit card that I had borrowed from Queenie to guarantee the room.

It worked, and I was relaxing in my room just before 10 pm. I was surprised at how tiring sitting in a car and then a metal tube for hours on end can be. If flying was supposed to be a romantic thing, then frankly romance sucks. I’d been stuck between two large women who just would not stop talking. They’d let rip on me when I suggested that one of them swapped seats with me.

Flying was very much overrated in my opinion. Perhaps for the super-rich in their private jets and gourmet food, it would be better, but I was not impressed. Even the bus was preferable in that there was something to look out of the window at.


Bright and early the next morning, I left the hotel and took a taxi to the local FBI Offices. The cab driver gave me a strange look when I gave him my destination. I smiled sweetly and said,
“I’m a serial killer on my way to hand myself in…” I said with a grin on my face.

He laughed.
“I shall have to remember that one. Thank you.”

I gave him an extra $5 tip for laughing at my feeble joke.


The FBI Building was already very busy. People were coming and going all with the same stern expression on their faces. For a moment, I wondered if I had been transported to a parallel planet where no one knows how to smile.

I stepped up to the information desk and made my pitch.

“I’d like to see Special Agent Sylvie Marshall.”

“And who might you be?” said the man behind the counter.

“I’m Tiffany Miles.”

“And what might your business with Special Agent Marshall be?”

“That is for her ears only. I helped her on a recent case and what I have to say is related to that case.”

He fiddled with something on the computer. His face remained expressionless.

"Special Agent Marshall is not in the office at this time. She is on temporary assignment to our office in Yuma."

“Ok,” I replied.

“Can another agent help you out?”

“No. What I have to say is as I said, for her ears only. She will know what to do with the information that I have to give her.”

I didn't wait for him to react but left what was possibly the most depressing building I had even been inside of in my life.


My bright start to the day, was soon dashed when thanks to Mr Google, I discovered that getting from Phoenix to Yuma was not the easiest journey in the world. It looked like I’d have to head back to Sky Harbor Airport and take an airport shuttle.

Luckily, I didn't have long to wait for a Shuttle to come along. That was the end of the good news. Having to pay forty-five bucks for a ride in a dirty, smelly mini-van with a suspension that was long past its best, was not my idea of fun, but until I am old enough to rent a car that is how it is going to be when doing journeys like this.

The Yuma FBI office was a much more friendly place than the one in Phoenix. That got my hopes up. When Sylvie appeared from behind a screen, my heart stopped. Sylvie stopped dead when she saw me. Then she grinned and gave me a big hug.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise, but what the hell are you doing in this neck of the woods?”

“Duh! I’ve come to see you that’s what.”

Then she came over all serious.
“I’m working on a case at the moment. I’ll be done by six. Do you have somewhere to stay?”

“No. I stayed at a hotel in Phoenix last night. I could do with a nice meal though.”

Sylvie laughed.
“No change there then?”

“Eh?”

“When you arrived at the house on Lake Superior, that was about the first thing that you said to me, and if my memory serves me right, food was been always on your mind, especially when we were in Queenies' Ford?”

I grinned.
"Ok, ok. I get the message. I was travelling all day yesterday, and didn't get to my hotel until after nine. I had a bagel at Sky Harbor, and that’s it for today.”

"I was joking, but I can see that you need feeding up before you waste away."

“Can I wait here until you are done? Then we can go somewhere? I do want to talk to you.”

"I guessed that. You can come and stay with me. Let me get the keys to the apartment the Bureau has rented for me. It is a bit out of town though.”

I shrugged my shoulders.
“I can just about afford a cab.”

Sylvie looked at my straight face. Then I burst out laughing.

“I’ll get you the keys. Don’t go anywhere!”

“I won’t.”


Within a few minutes of Sylvie arriving at her temporary home in Yuma, we were chattering away about nothing serious or important as if we hadn't been apart for days. There was so much that I wanted to say, but I found myself tongue-tied.

I felt that I had my confidence back once we’d eaten. I’d been busy while I waited for her to come back from work. I'd made some burgers, and had got the outdoor grill going. Her cupboard was a bit bare when it came to seasoning, but a good dose of smoked paprika and plenty of pepper helped a lot.

“Sylvie, I said that would come and tell you what I’d decided to do. The thing is that after you left me in DC, it got a lot more complicated.”

“How so? You were going to leave and see your friend Queenie?”

"I did, but before I left, I had a visit from a lawyer. She'd twisted some arms in the DOJ to find out where I was staying.”

I saw a concerned look on Sylvie’s face.
"It wasn't bad news, but it has complicated matters quite a bit. The lawyer was the daughter of Judge Francis. She told me that he'd left me the land where his cabin was located and the pay-out from the Insurance after the arson.”

“Are you tempted to go and live there? I know that you have a soft spot for the place.”

"That's where it gets a bit complicated."

“How?”

"I had a long talk with Queenie ,and boy... she didn’t hold back in what she said. That was hard to listen to, but most of what she said was right on the nail. A lot of home truths as you'd expect."

I took a deep breath before continuing. This had seemed be so simple before, and now it wasn't.

"After a lot of thought, I came to a decision, but it isn't that simple. What I do with my life depends on you.”

“Me?”

"Sylvie, I know that we have kissed a bit, but these past months have made me just want to be part of your life. I know you have a career and the last thing I want to do is jeopardize your career.”

“Stop!”

The strength of her statement startled me.

“Tiffany, I’d be honored to be part of your life. I’m probably stuck here in this backwater because a day after I returned from DC, I gave them notice of my intention to leave the Bureau at the end of the year.”

Those words will be etched on my brain forever.

For the first time, we embraced without restraint.


Neither of us wanted to get up in the morning. It had been quite a night.

“I’ll get a key cut for you,” said Sylvie over breakfast that consisted of coffee and an orange. That was Sylvie’s preferred menu for the morning. I’d grown to like it even though Amy had resisted all the time we were in the house up north.

“First things first. As I said last night, there is still some unfinished business up in Oregon. I have to work out how I’m going to get from here to Portland.”

Sylvie smiled.
“You like to do things in person don’t you?”

"I do. Being without a smartphone all these years is why, but seeing all of the people I'm talking to helps me to read them.”

Sylvie laughed.
“That’s what my interrogation instructor at Quantico used to say. Body language is very telling. These days with tools such as Facetime and Zoom, we are getting pressured to use them to cut costs. Somewhat shortsighted if you ask me."

Sylvie’s phone bleeped. She looked at her phone and shook her head.
“My idiot boss wants me in the Office at six tomorrow morning.”

“Is that for the job that you are working on?”

"No. I'm collating a load of witness reports for a forthcoming murder case against the State Cops. That isn't due to going to trial for three weeks. He’ll be wanting to tear me off a strip for leaving before him last night. He is the sort of non-field agent who wants his team there before him, and for no one to leave until after he does. He’s in Phoenix all day today so it is the calm before the storm.”

Suddenly an idea came to me.
“How about you go and see him in Phoenix? After all, what can he do to you?”

“And you would like a lift to the airport?”

I grinned.

“Ok.”

"Look darling, I know that we still have a lot to work out, but I can be here for you once I get this done."

"I know you will, but just as you come back into my life, you are gone again."

“I’ll only be gone for a couple of days.”

Sylvie came and hugged me.
“I know but… Just a couple of days then, I want you here!”

“Yes, Mrs Boss!”


We hit the road twenty minutes later after I’d twisted Sylvie’s arm to let me use her personal credit card to book the flight and a hotel.

“At least then I know that you are coming back. You aren’t the sort to renegue on a deal.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. As Arnie once said, 'I will be back'."

[The final part of this story will be posted next week]

[Author’s note]
There are a good number of home truths exposed in this chapter. They reflect one view of life in the USA as I saw them in Feb 2022. I hope those views do not offend anyone.

up
255 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

The Handmaid's Tale

joannebarbarella's picture

Is not just a TV show, but is a real danger in the USA, and the observations about the convulsions of the White Right as they contemplate their future as a minority in the country that they believe "belongs" to them are all too true. For them democracy only applies if they and those like them are allowed to vote.

Tiffany has received 100 per cent accurate information from Queenie. I hope she takes it to heart and acts on it.

Well, Samantha

Robertlouis's picture

I do believe that this may be the first chapter of this tale that I haven’t had a huge outpouring of breath at the end.

Yes, there’s still tension in there, but it’s very different in nature, and the imminent threat to life has receded considerably, although, given Tiffany’s father’s connections, it may not have disappeared altogether.

Things seem to be on a reasonably even keel for Tiffany and Sylvie, but many a slip, as we all know, and this IS a Samantha Davies story after all.

I’ll be sad when this wild ride comes to an end, but I’ll also be relieved, for the sake of my own and everyone else’s frazzled nerves!

Thanks Sam, it’s been absolutely superb in every possible way. One of the best thrillers I’ve read all year, and believe me, I read a lot.

Rob xx

☠️

Truth can be painful

Wendy Jean's picture

especially if it was on subjects you had been avoiding thinking about.

As The Storyteller

You must write what you feel. I might not agree with everything you said, but it doesn’t offend me. As it happens I do agree with most of what you said. There are some ugly minded people in the US. Please continue to share your amazing stories with us!

Great story...

RachelMnM's picture

Going to be sad to see it end. As for your note - write it your way and the reader either can see it or fight it. You can't control their interpretation and shouldn't feel you have to candy coat any of it.

Well written... I'm pulling for a happy ending.

XOXOXO

Rachel M. Moore...