TWENTY-THREE

The Sheriff Al Cannon Detention Center was situated on Leeds Avenue in North Charleston. The original structure was comprised of two four-story square, grey concrete buildings connected by a smaller grey rectangle. There were few windows, and it wouldn’t have been hard to figure out what the place was without the sign. That’s where Darius had been held since his arrest.

Nate parked the Explorer in the parking lot and we walked towards the lobby. Three news vans were already broadcasting or taping a spot—I couldn’t tell which—with the jail as a backdrop, bringing any viewers who hadn’t heard why Darius was here up to date. Fortunately for us, they had no idea we were there for Darius.

We passed underneath the metal awning and into the utilitarian lobby. We spoke to the deputy serving as hostess and she directed us to the row of connected metal chairs to wait. We stood in the general vicinity.

Shortly after one, Darius came out through a grey door under a sign that said, “Secure Area.” His head jerked left to right. He saw us and walked towards us. Colleen walked just behind him, in ghost mode.

“Darius,” I said, “this is my husband, Nate. He’s also my partner.”

“Nice to meet you.” Darius shook Nate’s hand. “What’s y’all’s plan for getting me past the vultures outside?”

“I’ll create a diversion,” said Colleen.

“We’re going to walk right past them,” Nate said. “Me on one side, Liz on the other. We’ll be fine.” He looked at Colleen like he was thinking Get to diverting.

“So we gonna run for it. Okay. All right then. Let’s go.” Darius headed for the door.

I moved to his left. Nate pushed the door open and we all walked through.

A small crowd of reporters waited, microphones in hand.

They erupted in shouted questions. Darius couldn’t have answered any of them if he’d wanted to. It was impossible to understand who was asking what. We walked fast towards the Explorer. They followed. We just kept walking, eyes down.

“Holy shit, get that on video,” one of them yelled.

They all turned to look. I glanced over my shoulder to see what appeared to be a waterspout in Brickyard Creek, the stream that ran behind the detention center. As waterways in the Lowcountry go, this one rarely made the news. Perhaps other sections of it were lovely, but this stretch was narrow and completely obscured by a thick stand of trees. It was easy to miss. Lots of folks probably didn’t even know it was there.

“What in the hell is that?” asked Darius.

“I have no earthly idea,” I said. “Quick, get in the car.”

We each ran for a door. The doors unlocked as Nate touched the drivers’ side handle. We hopped in, Darius behind me. Nate locked the doors and pressed start. The engine coughed, then clicked.

“Aw, hell,” said Darius. “I know you didn’t come to pick me up from the jailhouse in no broke down car.”

“Dammit.” Nate pushed the button again and the car started.

I stared out the window at Colleen’s diversion, which was admittedly a doozy.

“Whew,” said Darius. “I don’t know what’s going on over there with that mud cyclone, but let’s get the hell out of here.”

Every one of the reporters had abandoned Darius to check out the towering funnel of muddy water. As soon as we’d cleared the parking lot and turned right off Leeds onto the on ramp to the Mark Clark Expressway, the mud spout collapsed, splattering every reporter in the jail parking lot. Colleen appeared in the backseat beside Darius.

“That was fun,” said Colleen. “I haven’t played in the mud in a long time. But I’m exhausted.”

Spectacular special effects typically left Colleen drained.

“We’ll have to watch that on the news tonight,” said Darius. “Maybe the weatherman can explain it.”

“Oh, that won’t be on the news,” said Colleen. “None of their cameras worked. They’ll all talk about this for a while.”

Of course, Darius couldn’t hear her. Nate shook his head. I met her eyes in the rearview. Thank you.

“You’re welcome.” Colleen curled up on the seat, leaned against the door.

“Darius, are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “Y’all wouldn’t believe what all has happened the last three days if I told you. I saw some wondrous things in that jail. Make that mud mess look downright ordinary. I tell you, God looked after me in there. I’m sure of it.”

Colleen sighed. “These past three days have worn me out. Troy Causby’s friends weren’t the only ones trying to get to Darius.”

“A lot of folks were sending up prayers,” I said, thinking of Mamma.

“Listen,” said Darius. “I owe you one, for sure. If you hadn’t a come by my house the other morning, I wouldn’t a known who to call. That lawyer you hooked me up with seems to be a good one. He’s damn snooty, I’ll tell you that much right now. But I don’t care about that if he can fix this mess.”

“Fraser’s the best,” I said. “Listen, we need to ask you some questions.”

“Let’s hear ’em,” said Darius.

“First, about your son…” I said.

“Oh, hell, here we go,” said Darius.

“We need to know,” I said. “Did you tell him Trina Lynn was his mother?”

“Naw,” he said.

“Is he what you and Trina Lynn were arguing about at Hall’s?” I asked.

“Yeah. I asked Trina Lynn about him. And she told me what she did. She covered the whole thing up and went out of town to have that baby, then put him up for adoption without even telling me I had a son.”

“I know that made you mad,” I said. “Did the police ask you about that at all?”

“Not at first,” said Darius. “But I think someone told them, because Jenkins came around asking about it after I was in jail.”

“The only people who knew were Trina’s family and Brantley himself,” said Nate.

“Brantley ain’t got nothing to do with any of this,” said Darius.

“How can you be sure of that?” I asked.

Darius was quiet for a minute. “I guess I can’t be. But he seems like a nice kid. Think about it…kids that age into they ancestry…those are the nerds. He ain’t getting into trouble. He’s in college. Gonna make somethin’ of hisself.”

“You may be right,” I said. “But we have to check out every possible angle.”

“Yeah, I get that.” He sounded depressed at the thought.

Nate changed lanes to pass a truck as we crossed the Cooper River. “Walk us through your movements after you left Hall’s Chophouse Sunday night.”

“Trina said she had to meet somebody. She called a Scoop. I waited with her ’til it came. I went back to my car. It was parked on John Street. I started to head home. Damn sure wish I’d done that. But it was a nice night. I got me a baseball cap outta the car. Cover up my bald head and most people won’t recognize me right off.

“Then I just wandered around. Hadn’t been home in a long time. Things sure have changed. I walked down King Street, looking at all the shops and restaurants. Cut over on Society. Went right on Meeting. Left on North Market, then over to East Bay. I stopped at a bakery on the corner of East Bay and Cumberland. Carmella’s. Bought two cannoli, thinking I’d eat ’em the next day. I love me some cannoli. Walked on down East Bay towards The Battery. Them cannoli was talking to me. Time I got to Rainbow Row, I started munching on one of ’em. By the time I got to the The Battery, they was both gone. Then—”

“What did you do with the bag?” I asked.

He screwed up his face at me. “I threw it in the trash can.”

“Which one?” I asked.

“There at White Point Garden. Why are you asking me about litter?”

“I take it you and Fraser haven’t discussed the evidence the police have against you?” Nate asked.

“Naw. I just talked to him the one time he came to the jail. Right after I was arrested.” Darius looked out the window at the Wando River. “What evidence? They can’t have evidence I did something I damn sure didn’t do.”

Nate said, “They found the murder weapon in a white bag in the trash can at White Point Garden. They have a witness who saw you put a white bag in that particular trash can.”

Darius got loud. “And I just told you I put a white bag in that trash can. Do you think I’m stupid on top of being a cold-blooded baby-mamma killer? I was right there at The Battery. The Cooper River and the Ashley River were pooling together right there in front of me. Why would anybody throw a gun they had just used to kill somebody into a trash can when there’s a perfectly good harbor right in front of them?”

“That’s a very good question.” Nate’s voice was calm, even.

“All right,” I said. “Calm down and back up. You put the paper bag in the trash can. Then what happened?”

“Some nice lady recognized me. Came running across the street wanting my autograph. She didn’t have nothing for me to sign except a receipt from dinner. But I signed it. Somebody took our picture.”

“Who was that? Who took your picture?” I asked.

“Just some random lady. We didn’t ask her name. She used the nice lady’s phone and took our picture.”

“Then what did you do?”

“Then I realized what time it was, and I needed to get myself back to the ferry dock or I wasn’t gonna be sleeping in my bed. I flagged down one of those li’l bicycle rickshaw taxis to take me back to my car. Had a damn parking ticket on top of everything. Still almost missed the ferry.”

“Did you save the receipt?” I asked.

“I didn’t ask for no receipt for a taxi.” He gave me a look that inquired after my sanity.

“I meant from Carmella’s,” I said.

“Naw. The girl at the counter tried to hand me a receipt,” he said. “I waved it off.”

“That’s too bad,” I said. “The time stamp could’ve cleared you. Did you pay with a credit card?”

“Cash.”

“Still. If we need it, I’ll talk to the folks at the restaurant. You’re a celebrity. Surely whoever you bought the cannoli from remembers you,” I said.

“Young girl,” said Darius. “Not my primary demographic.”

“She might still remember you,” I said. “The next thing we need to talk about is your marriage to Trina Lynn. How did y’all pull that off? You were both underage.”

“I got my mamma to sign an affidavit. We uh, we forged Trina’s mamma’s signature.”

“But that has to be notarized,” I said.

“And we talked somebody into notarizing it. We were teenagers in love, and it was Valentine’s Day. That poor lady’s retired now, maybe dead. We don’t need to drag her into this.”

“So you got married because it was Valentine’s Day?” I asked.

“I told you. We were in love,” he said.

Nate looked in the rearview mirror. “And she was reluctant?”

Darius’s face was quite expressive. Just then it was saying, You got that right. “Trina Lynn was a good girl. She wasn’t giving away no free milk. So, I bought the cow.”

“Oh my stars,” I said. “You got married so you could have sex?”

Darius started shaking with a chuckle. “You think that’s unique? Let me tell you something, most men get married so they can have sex.”

Nate turned to me. “Ah, he doesn’t speak for the group.” He looked back into the mirror. “When you married her illegally at age seventeen, Trina Lynn was not pregnant?”

“That’s right. We were secretly married in February. I never knew she got pregnant at all. Last time I saw her, she surely didn’t look like she was expecting a baby. But when I asked her at the restaurant Sunday night, she told me she thought it was a prom night baby.”

“And if you had known she was pregnant?” I asked.

“I honestly don’t know. I’d like to think I woulda stayed here, talked her into keeping the child. But that woulda been a hard sell. Her parents didn’t really approve of me, and she was real close to her family.”

“But she married you,” I said.

“Yeah, she did, didn’t she?” He stared out the window again.

Nate got off of 526 on Hungry Neck Boulevard. “Did you ever get divorced?”

“We did. I’m not sure which was more legal, the wedding or the divorce. Before I married Arianna, I got in touch with Trina and she agreed to a quickie divorce. My attorney said it was legal. He went to Mexico and took care of everything. Mexican divorces were a thing back then. Do people still do that? Anyway, Trina nor I either one even had to show up.”

“When’s the last time you spoke to any of your ex-wives?” I asked.

Darius thought for a minute. “I told all of ’em when I decided to move here. It’s been a couple months.”

“What’s your relationship with them like?” I asked.

“Why? Ain’t none of them killed Trina Lynn, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Darius.” I gave him a quelling look in the rearview.

“Arianna and I are friends. If I’d a married her when I was more mature, I might a just had the one wife. Vivianne…whoo law. Vivianne and I are like gasoline and matches. We stay clear of each other. Lily…that was me being stupid again. That girl’s way too young for me. We don’t even know any of the same music. But I guess we get along okay. Now why are you asking me about them?”

“Because they’re all three in Stella Maris right now.” I watched his reaction in the mirror.

He drew back, eyes large. “What?”

“Vivianne is at your house—”

“How did she get in?”

“I’m afraid Calista let her in, but it was by accident,” I said.

Darius put a hand over his face. “Oh Lord. You can’t take me home then.”

“I’m afraid we have to,” I said. “Fraser is insistent that we allow the press to video in front of your house and generally make your life miserable, at least for a few days. It builds sympathy in a potential jury pool, apparently.”

“Listen. You don’t understand. If you leave me there with Vivianne, bad things will happen,” said Darius. “If I have to go home, you have got to get her outta my house. And that won’t be an easy thing, I’m just telling you that up front.”

I looked at Colleen. Can you handle that?

“Please.” She yawned. “I’ll take care of that right now. She’ll be gone before y’all get there.” Colleen faded out.

“We’ll handle Vivianne,” said Nate.

“God bless you,” said Darius. “Where are the other two?”

“Arianna is at Calista’s house—”

“What? How? How in the hell did that happen?” He got loud again.

“Long story,” said Nate. “I dropped her off.”

“I thought you were on my side,” said Darius. “You better be on my side. I’m the one paying your bill. If you took her over there, you can go get her out of there.”

“I think she’s leaving under her own steam,” I said. “I heard at The Cracked Pot this morning she’d rented a house. No idea whose.”

“Rented a house? How long is she planning on staying?” asked Darius.

“Indefinitely, is what she told me,” said Nate.

“Why would she do that?” asked Darius.

“Said she’s here to help you prove your innocence,” said Nate.

Darius heaved a heavy sigh. “Well, I guess it’s more than I deserve that she cares whether they lock me up or not.”

“Which brings us to Lily,” I said. “She’s been holding daily press conferences at the gazebo at the park.”

“Oh lord, lord.” Darius shook his head.

“She seems to think the two of you are on the verge of patching things up,” I said.

“Unh-uh. No. No way,” said Darius. “I strongly suspect that sweet young thing married me for my money to begin with. And I’m already giving her plenty of it.”

“And that reminds me,” I said. “What are your plans for Devlin’s Point?”

He squinted, blinked at me. “I’m gonna live there. What do you mean? Are you asking me if I’m planning to throw big parties or something? ’Cause I’m not really a party kind a guy, in case you worried about that.”

“I’m asking if you have plans to develop it—put up a hotel, a resort, anything of that nature,” I said.

“Hell no. Why in this world would I do something like that? One reason I came home was to get away from crowds.”

“Something Lily said.” I felt a bit of the tension in my shoulders ease.

“That girl has always got big plans for something.” Darius shook his head. “I’ve got to get my house in order, I can see that. But none of those women have anything to do with Trina Lynn.”

Nate followed Palm Boulevard as it turned left, then stayed straight onto Forty-first Street. We were nearly to the marina. “We’re going to have to wait for the 2:30 ferry. Darius, you hungry? Liz and I didn’t have a chance to have lunch.”

“Yeah, I’m starving. I haven’t hardly eaten a damn thing since Tuesday morning,” said Darius.

“I don’t see any signs of the media,” I said. “The reporters must’ve all stayed behind to compare notes on the creek spout. We’re clear for the moment.”

Nate pulled down to the parking lot in front of Morgan Creek Grill and we got out and climbed the steps to the Upper Deck. It was still plenty hot, in the high eighties, but the breeze was nice, and there was a roof over the deck to keep the worst of the sun at bay. We didn’t need to be told Darius wanted to be outside.

We grabbed a table by the rail. Our server put down menus and asked for our drink order. Nate and I ordered unsweetened tea.

Darius glanced at the menu. “Bring me a Corona and one of every appetizer on this menu. And a Creek Burger, medium, add mayonnaise.” He looked at us. “I’m gonna need help eating them appetizers. What ch’all want?”

Nate ordered a burger, and I went with the mahi mahi tacos. I knew we weren’t going to eat all that food, but went with the spirit of the occasion. When the food arrived, we had to slide another table over just to hold it all. Darius ordered another beer and told the waitress to bring the check. He paid the bill and we munched until we saw the ferry approaching. We all grabbed one more bite as we stood, then rushed down the steps and piled into the car.

Nate pushed the button, and the car misfired again. He muttered a couple curses and tried again. It started on the third try.

“How old’s this car?” asked Darius.

“Less than a year,” said Nate.

“They sure don’t make cars like they used to,” said Darius. “If I was you, I’d be having a serious conversation with a car dealer.”

“It’s something simple. I’ll pop the hood and check things out myself as soon as we get home.” Nate drove around to the Stella Maris ferry dock and pulled the car onto the ferry.

It wasn’t rare for mid-afternoon ferries to be mostly empty. We were relieved and grateful to be the only car that trip. We all got out and climbed to the upper deck to enjoy the fresh air. As the ferry glided across the water, we all turned to our own thoughts. I puzzled over everything we’d learned that day. There was no way around the fact that Trina Lynn’s killer was a woman. That made things easier in some respects. We could eliminate a few possibilities. But just because Brantley Miller was innocent in the matter of her death didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. Then again, he could be exactly who Darius thought he was, a slightly nerdy college kid.

When we were closing in on the ferry dock, but still a ways out in Pearson’s Inlet, we all went back downstairs and climbed into the car. Colleen reappeared in the backseat. “I’m still working on Vivianne. She’s stubborn. And apparently not given to fear of spirits and such. I went full on poltergeist on her. She’s fixin’ to do a sage cleanse on the whole house. But I’ll get her out of there.”

I’ve met her. She’s a piece of work.

Nate pushed the button, and the car misfired again.

Before he could push it a second time, Colleen yelled, “Freeze.”

Nate and I looked at her.

“Out of the car, now.” She disappeared, then reappeared on the deck.

We scrambled to follow her.

“Out. Out. Out.” Nate yelled.

We both flung open our doors and dove out of the car.

Darius opened his and hopped out. “What’s the matter with y’all?”

Colleen said, “Get off the ferry.”

“You mean jump in the water?” Nate forgot and spoke out loud.

“Now!” Colleen reared back and touched her temples. Jump in the water, now!

She was broadcasting, throwing the thought to the crew.

“Jump,” hollered Nate. “Everyone, into the water.”

“You crazy,” said Darius. “I ain’t jumping in no damn water.”

Nate and I grabbed his arms and ran towards the rail. We hopped over and pulled him with us.

“Let go a me—” Darius yelled. “Ahhhh!”

We hit the water and went under.

I kicked towards the surface and breached it just in time to see Colleen blowing the ferry captain and his single crew member off the ferry with a gust of wind she conjured with a wave of her arm. She spun around. Everyone was in the water. She shot upwards in a golden column of light and disappeared.

The Explorer exploded in a fiery ball. Seconds later, the ferry went with it.

We all treaded water staring at the flames.

“Sonavabitch.” My mind raced through everyone we’d interviewed that week. Who had done this?

“Day-um,” said Darius. “That’s a recall gonna set Ford back. How did y’all know it was gonna explode like that? Has it been in the news? Exploding Explorers?”

Nate and I exchanged a glance.

“No,” I said. “We just have finely tuned instincts.”

“I’ll never question that again,” said Darius.