Geneva
Geneva’s grief settled into something darker.
If Deja knew what was good for her, she wouldn’t have given in and revealed that she had a copy of that video. Watching her baby losing a female’s rite of passage to a predator was heartbreaking. The live feed with Alexia being mauled by those savages almost did her in. Again.
Days before, Geneva had taken what she needed from her father-in-law’s laptop. For a policeman, Desmond had to be the most careless officer when it came to confidential information. She understood that had to do with his age and the fact that he only looked at the computer as a tool and not an instrument that could be dangerous. This, despite the growing problem with internet banking fraud and scamming on the island. Still, she wouldn’t be too hard on him because his lax attitude had been to her advantage.
She cried a thousand tears and railed against God and the brutes who did the worst to Alexia.
“How could they?” she’d muttered, wanting to look away, but knowing that if Alexia had suffered all she had and was still alive, the least she could do was bear witness to her daughter’s agony. Inside her office, she paced for what felt like hours with the blinds drawn. Each time she walked by the credenza, she touched the framed photos with Alexia’s image.
Geneva would have said she wasn’t sentimental but the evidence suggested otherwise. The odds and ends from Jaden and Alexia’s early years were in storage and wouldn’t be discarded, no matter how they teased her about keeping junk. She hadn’t thrown out the “artwork” Alexia had crafted in school and presented her with over the years. They were a touchstone to the past that acted as a bridge to the future. One that was now in ruins.
When Spence came to let her know he was home, she’d waved him away with the excuse that she was working on a system for a client.
“I’m fine, honey,” she insisted when he stared at her, his head tipped to one side.
“If you need anything, I’ll be around for a bit,” he said, studying her as if he could tell what was going on in her mind. That endearment she dropped also had him confused.
The last year had been rough. She’d told herself she was done with Spence, because she could no longer trust him and keeping tabs on him wasn’t something she planned to do. If he didn’t value what they had at home, then to hell with him. But he’d been more attentive and hadn’t given her reason to suspect he was being unfaithful. Forgiveness wasn’t her strong suit, and it played havoc with their marriage. Yet, Spence refused to give up on her.
She patted his chest to reassure him. “I’m good. Really.”
He half believed her because that was her modus operandi when she was thinking. Pacing until she tired herself out, if her ideas didn’t coalesce into workable solutions. A slow nod signaled his acceptance of her explanation before he withdrew and closed the door.
Hugging herself, she considered every action she’d watched on that tape until plans to expose Alexia’s attackers morphed into something dangerous. Gathering and collating information was part of her skill set. That would only be a small fraction of what she needed to do in the next few days to put her plans into play. Those bastards that called themselves friends would suffer just like her daughter. If they didn’t, whatever she chose to inflict on them would be exactly what they deserved. Patience would be key. Too close of an interval between each incident would attract attention she didn’t need.
Deja was another matter that needed special consideration. The girl sat inches away and wore guilt like a shroud. Geneva sensed that she wanted—no needed—to purge herself of the weight she carried. After buying her a green juice this time and gently encouraging her to share what was bothering her, Deja handed Geneva a thumb drive.
With her stomach shriveling into a tight knot, Geneva angled the computer screen so they both could see it. Although she guessed the reason, Geneva didn’t ask why she’d spliced the video into several chunks and she didn’t care—not in the moment.
She sat like a statue, separating herself from what was happening on the laptop by focusing on the camera, which Deja had covered with a tiny bit of tape. The marker she’d used to color it made the tape nearly unnoticeable.
Meanwhile, Deja came close to blubbering as they watched.
Without looking at the girl, Geneva passed her tissue from her handbag.
Deja went silent, but continued to dry her eyes. Since they were seated in a corner of the hospital cafeteria, she had to maintain some semblance of composure. While she sniffled, Geneva watched exhausted workers and dry-eyed visitors topping up on bad coffee and empty calories.
“What’s done is done,” Geneva eventually said. “There’s no use crying over it now.”
When Deja’s eyes welled with fresh tears, Geneva wanted to smack her. Something other than what happened to Alexia was bugging her. Whatever it was didn’t matter to Geneva. She had one aim in view and would not be deterred. At the end of the tape, she touched Deja’s hand. “You know, there is something you can do for me.”
“What’s that?” she asked, eager to please.
Geneva scanned her shapeless hoodie, baggy jeans, and sneakers. This child had some serious issues. She’d never dressed like other teenagers. No tank tops, tight jeans, or flashy footwear. On the three visits to the hospital, she’d looked the same. Like someone deliberately trying to avoid attention. That was to Geneva’s advantage.
She patted Deja’s hand and chose her words. “Those two boys, Jason and Phil. Your friends.”
The girl winced but didn’t interrupt.
“You’re a whiz.” She smiled, and Deja responded with one of her own. “I’m talking about the computer and the internet …”
Nodding, Deja sniffed and wiped her nose. “Yes, Auntie.”
“And you want to help Alexia, right?”
She dipped her head once more.
Pointing at the laptop, Geneva continued, “Based on how this madness started …”
The undeserved agony Alexia went through stole her breath for a few seconds, and she paused to relieve the tightness in her chest. “I realize these boys are into some things that aren’t good for them.”
Another extended sniff from the girl at her side made Geneva close both fists to prevent herself from losing her cool and slapping her. Why people thought tears would resolve anything was beyond her. Not to say she didn’t experience the same weakness, but she never wallowed. Action and mind control had been the thing that got her through every difficult situation in life. If she used the brain God gave her and combined that with everything she’d learned along the way, success would be hers at some point. Always.
She brought her mind back to the present and put on a winning expression.
“I’d like you to keep an eye on them. See what they’re dabbling in.”
When Deja opened her mouth, Geneva applied pressure to her hand. “The police need time to make their case. There’s nothing wrong with us helping them, is there?”
Deja pulled at the silky curls at her nape and squinted, as if thinking. Then her eyes cleared.
Geneva knew she had her, but added a touch of sweetener. “You’d be doing something to help Alexia, and I’ll be extremely grateful.”
She clasped both hands on the table and stared at her fingers. “I’d do anything to help Alexia.”
After a sharp inhale, Geneva removed the flash drive, closed the laptop, and slid it toward Deja. The time when her assistance was critical had passed, but the future was important. A few more carefully planted seeds in the form of complimentary words brought a sparkle to Deja’s eyes.
As she stood, Geneva touched the girl’s shoulder. “Stay and finish your drink. There’s something I have to do now. I’ll reach out to you.”
She stepped away, already putting the next steps of her plan in place. Geneva couldn’t do everything at once, but knew how to create a domino effect.
“Aunt Jenny?”
That word “aunt” twisted her stomach and made her mouth bitter. Friends took care of each other. Relatives were supposed to be even more vigilant. Deja had failed on both counts.
“Yes?” she said, over her shoulder.
“If I had the chance to do anything differently, I would.”
“Not to worry.” Geneva laced her words with empathy. “I’m sure the opportunity will come for you to do better.”