Suzetta Perkins - Déjà Vu

Formalities out of the way, Captain Petrowski shared with Jefferson most of what he knew.

“We have questioned several inmates at the prison who might have witnessed Hamilton’s murder. We still have not come up with anything concrete. The Highway Patrol has been sweeping Interstate 95 for the last two or three days, but our dragnets haven’t netted anything yet. We’ve got the city pretty well surrounded, with double duty the day of the funeral.

“We’ve received word from New York that suggests Santiago could very well be tied to the murder of a well-known photographer by the name of Donna Barnes Reardon. Coincidentally, she is the cousin of Hamilton Barnes.”

“I wasn’t aware of that,” Jefferson said thoughtfully, wondering why Angelica hadn’t mentioned it to him. Brushing his curiosity aside, Jefferson looked at the Captain. “When did this happen?”

“A month ago,” Captain Petrowski responded.

When was Angelica going to tell him? She’d been sleeping with Santiago for some time, and surely she had to have known about Hamilton’s cousin. He balled his hand into a fist and slapped it into his other, pissed that he had to hear this bit of news from the Captain.

“Is there something wrong?” Captain Petrowski asked, noting Jefferson’s agitated state.

“Wrong? Santiago is a madman, and I’m afraid he’ll do whatever he has to do to eliminate Angelica Barnes and me. I’m frustrated because he’s still running around when he should have been in prison years ago.” Petrowski looked away because he wanted Santiago more than anybody and hated that he had slipped through his fingers. “And to see my wife paralyzed with fear when those shots were fired into my house tonight…hell, I’ll admit I’m scared.”

“Wherever you choose to go tonight-I’m sure you won’t be staying at your house-we will have security for you.”

Without knocking, a police officer that had been outside gathering evidence rushed into the house.

“Captain, we’ve got a witness who saw someone shooting at this residence from a car. We’ve got a tag number and it’s from New York.”

“Get an ID on it now,” Petrowski barked. “By the way, good work!”

“Thanks, Captain. Already working on it.”

Sleep escaped Jefferson. It gnawed at him that Angelica had not shared the bit of information about the murder of Donna Barnes Reardon, Hamilton’s cousin. She had to have known because she was right there in New York when it happened. Maybe she wasn’t aware, given that she had been Santiago’s prisoner, but this was a serious matter, and it was hitting mighty close to home.

It pissed him off more that he and Margo had to uproot and leave their home for an undisclosed place because of what he feared was near. He had not been as close to God as he should have, but he was certain that Margo’s direct connection to the Father was what saved their lives. If Jefferson was a praying man, his single prayer was that God would strike Santiago dead and rid the city, state and country of a horrifying and treacherous menace.

Unsure if they were in Fayetteville or a neighboring city, Margo and Jefferson had been placed in an unmarked police vehicle and whisked away to an undisclosed location. The only thing Margo and Jefferson knew for sure was that they were holed up in a hotel suite that offered a temporary shelter away from home.

He held Margo close, satisfied that she had finally drifted off to sleep. Even her snoring was music to Jefferson’s ears because Margo’s fear was greater than his own. Uncomfortable with security protecting their privacy, they were grateful for their protection nonetheless. Jefferson considered sending Margo to Atlanta to stay with her brother or with Ivy and J.R., but when Jefferson approached her with the idea, she pulled rank and insisted that she was going to stay by his side.

Patting Margo, Jefferson eased from underneath the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. With his elbows on his knees, he placed his forehead on the ball of his knuckles and contemplated what he should do. It was still a good idea to remove his family from harm, but he wanted to do something to make this nightmare end.

Noises in the hallway made him look up and turn his head toward the door. Cautiously, he got up and tiptoed toward the door. Reaching the door, he stretched his ear to see if could hear what was going on. Muffled words were traded but none that Jefferson could decipher. Again, he heard footsteps that seemed to be retreating-and then quiet again.

A thin layer of sweat formed on his face. Jefferson moved from the door and went to the bathroom. He relieved himself and took a face cloth and washed his face. Leaving the bathroom, Jefferson breathed a sigh of relief but was startled when he saw Margo sitting up in the bed.

“What is it, Jefferson?”

“Can’t sleep. I still hear the shots in my head from earlier this evening. I see Santiago’s face mocking me-telling me that my time is up.”

“Stop it, Jefferson,” Margo pleaded. “We can’t give into the fear or it’s going to swallow us up.”

“I’m trying, Margo. God knows I’m trying not to worry. We came so close tonight…so damn close. We could have been lying in the morgue alongside Hamilton. I keep asking myself, why? Why now?”

“We don’t know the answer to that but we have to trust that the police will do their job. We have more security protecting us than they do at Fort Knox. Unless Santiago has a well-trained network, I believe the feds and the police are in a good position to apprehend him before he does anymore harm.”

“Why didn’t they stop what happened to us tonight?” Jefferson asked with a tremble in his voice.

“Santiago had to make a move. Unfortunately, we were the targets. You know what happens when a criminal becomes anxious to carry out his mission; he sometimes becomes careless and sloppy. His desire is so strong to get revenge that he will stop at nothing to carry it out. It’s only a matter of time before he’s caught.”

Jefferson looked at Margo. He wasn’t sure where the confidence she exuded came from, but it was what he needed at this moment. Margo exercised such control over her emotions that it surprised him.

“I love you, Margo. Even at three o’clock in the morning, you’re so full of wisdom.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t afraid of the big bad wolf, but I can’t allow fear to control my destiny. Come and sit down next to me.” Margo waved Jefferson over and patted the bed. “Give me your hands; we’re going to pray.”

Jefferson sat next to Margo and put his hands in hers. He looked at her with a smile, said nothing and closed his eyes.

“Dear Lord, Jefferson and I have come to You as humbly as we know how, asking once again for Your help. There’s a crazy, mad man roaming the city who wants to kill my husband and others. I know there’s nothing too hard for You, Lord, and I ask that You would put Your loving arms around us and protect us from all hurt, harm, and danger that threatens to kill and destroy our family. I know that we don’t always deserve Your love and blessings, but I ask that You do this for me…for us.

“My husband is a good man, Lord. He’s paid for his mistakes and he wants to do the right thing. Please forgive us for those things we have done that weren’t right in Your sight and restore us to good standing with You. You are an awesome God, Creator of all things. You would not have put the sun, moon, and stars in the heavens if you didn’t love us the way you do.

“Again, I submit my request humbly to You because You’re the only one I know who can get us out of this jam. These things I ask in Your name, Amen.”

Jefferson opened his eyes and kissed Margo. “That was beautiful. How did I get so lucky to have the best woman in all of the universe?”