“Miss Miller, we’re going to have to take a few more pictures,” Kathleen Allen said. The young black policewoman had returned to Mia Miller’s townhouse on Sunday afternoon along with her white partner Mike Cox.
Mia’s face was void of emotion as she sat on her sofa. Her long hair looked like a tent around her bruised face. Her cheeks were puffy and swollen, the skin under her eyes looked like bruised petals, and her right eye Was partly closed. She stared at the walls, but couldn’t see the Jacob Lawrence painting she had taken so much pride in buying. She heard voices, but didn’t know who was speaking; she saw faces, but didn’t know who they were or why they were in her house. There was only one familiar face and a husky, consoling voice Mia recognized. LaDonna Woods, a stocky, chocolate-hued woman, with reddish hair and sharply defined features, sat beside her whispering, “It’s going to be all right, babe.
“Mia, you need to tell the officer who did this to you,” LaDonna said. “Do you think she could be in some type of shock?” LaDonna turned and asked Officer Cox.
“I don’t think so. Let’s just give her some time,” he said. “We can do this tomorrow but it’s best to try and get as much information while it may be fresh in her mind.”
LaDonna had caught the red-eye flight from Los Angeles to Chicago just hours after she received a call from Mia’s neighbor, Bruce Bell. Early Saturday morning, Bruce had been the one to find Mia. She was hugging the steering wheel of her car in the parking carport they shared. He realized something was wrong when he noticed Mia’s head lurch suddenly forward, then saw her throw up. When Mia lifted her head again, he could see that she had been beaten. He opened the car door and noticed that her clothing was torn and her body was shaking badly. Bruce took Mia’s keys, carried her into her townhouse, and went to his house and told his wife to call the police. Bruce returned and once inside Mia’s apartment he hit the redial button on Mia’s phone. When LaDonna answered, Bruce asked her if she was a family member or friend of Mia Miller. He knew very little about his neighbor, but he did recall a time he once saw her in the post office mailing a package to her sister. He remembered how happy she’d seemed, sharing with Bruce about Tanya’s exciting fashion career in Paris. But besides that exchange, the only thing Bruce and Becky Bell really knew about Mia was her work on television. Bruce had suggested calling the station when he found Mia, but Becky didn’t think it was such a good idea. Before LaDonna arrived on Sunday morning, Mia had spent much of her time in the downstairs bathroom throwing up. Bruce had commented to Becky how Mia reeked of alcohol.
“She has been like this most of last night, but every time I suggested taking her to the hospital she shook her head ‘no,’ ” Bruce said to the officers.
“That’s fine, sir. You did the right thing. I understand her personal physician is coming over,” Officer Cox said. “Can I speak with you in the kitchen, Miss Woods?”
“Just call me LaDonna, Officer Cox,” LaDonna said as she and the officer walked into the nearby kitchen. Officer Allen stayed with Mia, just in case she decided to talk.
“Well, I’m sure you already know this, but the signs point to sexual assault.”
“Don’t you mean rape?”
“I’m not certain, but from what we’ve ascertained from Mr. Bell, that’s what it’s pointing to. At the very least it’s a very bad sexual assault.”
“What do you mean, you’re not certain?” LaDonna snapped. “It’s obvious to any fool that she was raped.”
“I’m sorry, LaDonna. I don’t mean to make light of what has happened to your friend. But we need more information before we can make that determination,” he said.
“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”
“Don’t worry about it. Do you have any thoughts on who could have done this? Is she married, divorced, or dating someone steady?” Mike asked.
“No on all counts. But she was going out on a date when I talked to her Friday night. She called me right before she was leaving home,” LaDonna said. “She called me because she was having problems with a former boyfriend.”
“Do you know his name and how we can get in contact with him?”
“His name is Derrick Smith and I don’t have a clue on how to get in contact with him,” LaDonna said.
“Does he live in the Chicago area?”
“No, but I think he was here recently on business.”
“Do you know who she had a date with?”
“Yes, a professional football player here in Chicago,” LaDonna replied.
“For the Bears?”
“No, the other team. The new one.”
“Oh, you mean the Cougars? Do you know this player’s name?”
LaDonna placed her finger to her chin and replayed the last couple of conversations she had with Mia.
“I think his name was Zurich something,” LaDonna said.
“Zurich, huh. That should make it pretty easy to find out if he plays for the Cougars,” Mike said.
“Yeah, I’m certain he plays for them.”
“Thanks, miss, we can find that information out,” the officer said as he scribbled some notes on his pad and started toward the living room, where Mia was still sitting on the sofa with Kathleen at her side.
“Wait a minute,” LaDonna said.
The officer turned and faced LaDonna and asked, “What was that, miss?”
“I can check my answering machine back home and see if Derrick, her former boyfriend, left his number on my machine. He had called me a couple of times trying to get Mia’s number,” LaDonna said.
“That would help us out a great deal,” Mike said.
“I’m pretty sure that’s who did this to her,” LaDonna said firmly.
“Maybe Ms. Miller will be able to help us out soon,” Mike said.
LaDonna went back to the living room and sat next to Mia, taking her hand and gently moving the hair away from her face. She held her friend’s hand, and looked into her eyes, which darted around like pinballs. “Mia, did Derrick do this to you?” Mia didn’t respond but her eyes stopped their movement.
“Just shake your head, darling. Just shake your head. Did Derrick do this?” This time Mia shook her head from side to side in a negative motion.
“Okay, Mia. So it wasn’t Derrick. Was it that Zurich guy? We have to know so that we can help you.”
Mia looked around the silent, shadowy room at the police officers, her neighbors, and LaDonna. They were all staring at her, waiting for a response. She wanted to sleep. She wanted them all to leave so she could be alone. But Mia knew they were not going to leave until she answered. But what was it they wanted to know? What had LaDonna asked her? A look of agony crossed her face, she wanted to cry out. Mia could feel tears pushing at the back of her eyes, but she did not cry. The back of Mia’s neck and her head were both very painful. With five pairs of eyes on her, she whispered, “Yes.” LaDonna gave Mia a gentle hug, then stood up facing the officer, “There you have it. It was that Zurich guy. That’s who did this. Arrest the bastard before he does this to someone else,” LaDonna demanded. Bruce and Becky cautiously moved closer to Mia and LaDonna.
“Okay, but I’ll have to file my report and then my commanding officer will determine the next step. I’ll need to come back for some additional questions and to take her statement when she’s feeling better. Will someone be here besides Ms. Miller?”
“Yes, I’ll be here for as long as she needs me,” LaDonna said.
“Great, then let us get down to the precinct and start the wheels in motion.”
LaDonna escorted the officers to the door and then came back over to the sofa as Mia stared silently ahead.
“Don’t you think we should call her parents?” Bruce asked.
“No, not yet. But I’m going to do that. Right now I’m going to take her upstairs and let her get some rest. Thank you both for all your help.”
“No problem. We’re right next door if you need anything,” Bruce said.
“Yes, please call if there is anything we can do. I will write our number down on the pad next to the phone,” Becky said as she walked over to the sofa table and picked up a blank pad.
“Okay, thanks a lot,” LaDonna said as she took Mia’s arm. Mia stood up under her own power, looked at Bruce and Becky, and silently mouthed, “Thank you.”
“No problem, you get some rest,” Bruce said as he took his wife’s hand and led her out the door.
LaDonna tried to get Mia to lean on her shoulder as they started to walk up the stairs, but Mia removed her friend’s hand and stood on her own, balancing herself on the banister. She felt as if she could throw up again, but there was nothing left in her stomach. She looked at her friend and uttered her first complete sentence in over twenty-four hours. “I can walk upstairs on my own, LaDonna.” She paused as if each word was draining her strength. “But will you fix me something to eat and bring me something to drink?”
“Are you sure? I don’t have any problem going upstairs with you,” LaDonna said.
“I’ll be all right. I just need to get something in my stomach and get in my bed,” Mia said.
“Okay,” LaDonna said reluctantly and headed toward the kitchen. As she reached the doorway she called out to Mia, “What do you want to drink? Juice or coffee?”
“A glass of wine. I need a glass of wine,” Mia said as she reached the top of the stairs.
It was the Monday morning after the Atlanta game and Zurich was dreaming. About Mia. She was standing silent and smiling before him. She looked beautiful. She was wearing jeans and a silk blouse with no bra, and he could see her nipples through the soft fabric. The only sounds he heard were the tinkle of her earrings as she placed them on his dresser and the rustle of her clothing as she slowly removed it. Zurich followed her lead and removed his jeans. He wasn’t wearing underwear, and a look of marvel crossed Mia’s face as he stood before her. His penis was large and erect. Seductively, she motioned him to her. Zurich slowly walked toward her.
Then their naked bodies touched skin to skin, like a burst of thunder, loud and shocking. Mia and Zurich merged together like an intricate puzzle. His muscular tongue slid down her body like a paintbrush. She became weak from the pleasure and fell back on the bed. He dropped his head to Mia’s thighs. He kissed her inner thighs and then moved his tongue to her center. He felt her body melt as she let out soft sobs of pleasure and then loud screams calling out his name. The sobs and screams woke Zurich.
The dream was still fresh in his mind, as if it had really happened. His body was warm with sweat, his sex erect. He rubbed his face hard with his open hands, and wondered why he was dreaming of Mia. He got up from his bed and went to his bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face, then brushed his teeth. He started to turn on the shower, then he decided to call Mia. Maybe the dream was trying to tell him something. That he had left something unsaid on Friday night and early Saturday morning. He wanted her to know why he’d rejected her. He found Mia’s number on his nightstand, where he had left it before his trip to Atlanta. He hoped she wasn’t still mad at him and that maybe they could meet for lunch and he could explain everything to her. Maybe she would understand how he had always slept alone and dreamed his life away. How in recent years, he had not experienced sexual passion, only sexual desire in dreams. Zurich lay back on his bed and stared at the ceiling as if some mysterious force above would give him the words he needed to make her understand. Moments later, he lifted himself up, picked up the phone, and dialed Mia’s number. After a few rings, an unfamiliar voice answered the phone.
“Hello.”
“Good morning. Is this Mia Miller’s residence?” Zurich asked.
“Yes it is. Can I help you?”
“Is she in? Can I speak with Mia?”
“Mia’s not feeling well. Can I take a message?”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Will you tell her Zurich Robinson called?”
“Zurich Robinson, the football player?” LaDonna asked, her voice strong, irritated.
“Yes, I play for the Cougars,” Zurich said, noticing the change in the female voice.
LaDonna suddenly went into a profanity-laced tirade, and gave Zurich, as MamaCee might say, a good cussin’ out.
“You got a lot of fuckin’ balls, mutherfucker! What in the fuck are you calling here for?” LaDonna shouted.
“What? Excuse me …” Zurich said.
“Excuse, hell. You heard me, goddammit. After what you did to my friend, you have the gall to call her! You must be out of your mutherfuckin mind!” LaDonna said.
“Miss, you must have me mixed up with somebody else. I didn’t do anything to Mia,” Zurich said. Was his rejection causing her this much pain?
“All I know is my friend was beaten and raped and she says you did it. I’m surprised the police haven’t picked your ass up already.”
“Beaten? Raped? Is she all right? Is there something I can do?”
“Something you can do? Don’t be actin’ dumb, you stupid-assed coward mutherfucker! Only cowards beat women, but then you know that, you coward mutherfucker. I’m hanging up on this dumb shit,” LaDonna said.
“Wait,” Zurich pleaded, but the dial tone droned in his ears.
He rubbed his chin as he replayed the conversation in his mind. Had Mia’s friend said she had been beaten and raped? And that he had done it? There had to be some mistake. Zurich started to pick up the phone and call back, but decided against it. He was angry. He was confused. He needed to talk to someone. He started to call his father, but realized that he was driving back to Tampa from Atlanta and had mentioned possibly going to Warm Springs and surprising MamaCee. He didn’t want to call there and get MamaCee worried unnecessarily. He could talk to Gina, so he dialed her number at home. Gina’s husband answered the phone and told Zurich that Gina was not there, but he would beep her and have her call him right away. Before saying good-bye, he told Zurich to hang in there, that he would play much better the next game. Zurich thanked him and said he would wait by his phone for Gina’s call. As he waited, he thought back to the Atlanta game. It had not been the nightmare he had dreamed before the game, but it was bad enough.
The Falcons had thrown a blitz on the first play of the game, forcing him to throw an interception that had led to the first Falcon touchdown. Zurich had lost his poise and was never able to regain it. He would throw four interceptions before the coaches pulled him and put Craig in early in the fourth quarter with the Falcons leading 42–14. The only saving grace was his eighty-yard touchdown pass after the Falcon’s first score and the fact that Craig threw for three interceptions in the five drives in which he led the Cougars. The coaches told Zurich not to feel bad, that they still had confidence in his ability but they needed to work with the offensive line on their pass protection and design new plays that would allow him to run more.
The ringing phone interrupted Zurich’s thoughts of the game.
“Hello,” he said.
“Zurich.”
“Gina. Thanks for calling,” Zurich said in a harried tone.
“What’s up? You sound bothered. I hope it’s not that game. It’s not the end of the world and you will play better against New Jersey. Am I right or am I wrong?” Gina said.
“Yeah, I know next week will be better. But I think I’ve got a problem,” Zurich said.
“What? It’s not those coaches. They aren’t giving you a hard time, are they?”
“No, Gina, the coaches have been great. It’s something else.” Before he could tell Gina what happened, he heard call waiting beep. “Hold on, Gina, let me see who this is,” Zurich said as he clicked over to his other line. “Hello.”
“Zuri.” It was MamaCee.
“Yes, MamaCee, how are you?”
“Well, I’m not doing that well, I woke up this morning and my legs were bothering me and you know what that means,” she said.
“Naw, I don’t, MamaCee, and I’m sorry but I can’t talk right now. I’m talking with my manager about something really important. Can I call you back later?” Zurich said.
“Baby, that’s why I’m callin’ you. When my legs start to bother me then I know it’s something going bad with my children. I called your father and Trey before they saw you in Atlanta. They doing fine. Talked to your other brothers. They doing fine, too. Haven’t been out to the garden near the cemetery yet, but I just got that feeling that something is wrong with you in Chicago. Now tell MamaCee what’s troublin’ you, baby,” she said.
“Trust me, MamaCee, everything is fine. I’ll call you later,” Zurich lied.
“Now don’t you be tellin’ your grandma no story, all right?” MamaCee warned.
“I’m not. I promise to call you back later,” Zurich said as he clicked back to the other line.
“I’m sorry, Gina. That was my grandma,” Zurich said.
“That’s okay. Now tell me what’s wrong. Come on now, Zurich, you’ve got me worried,” Gina said.
Zurich told Gina about his dinner with Mia before he left for Atlanta and the scene at his apartment afterward.
“So, that sounds all right to me. I thought that woman had a boyfriend. What’s the problem? She mad ’cause you didn’t want none of her kitty-kat?” Gina laughed.
Zurich then told Gina about the conversation he had with Mia’s friend earlier. “Now do you understand why I’m worried,” he said.
“I thought they were paying that heifer good money over at that station,” Gina said.
“What does this have to do with money, Gina?” Zurich asked.
“Everything. That woman wants some money from you for turning her down. I can tell a mile away what this is about. I bet you anything she wasn’t even raped. This is some kinda scam. But I must admit, I’m a little shocked with her being in the media. What would she have to gain by doing something like this? To be honest it would make more sense if it were one of those Cougar cheerleaders or some shake dancer girl you football players love so much. Are you sure you’re telling me the whole story? Nothing else happened when she went up to your apartment?”
“Nothing but what I’ve told you, Gina. That’s it. True,” Zurich said.
“Well, let me check this out. I know someone over at that station who might know what’s going on. In the meantime, I’m going to talk with a lawyer friend of mine, just in case this woman comes for us. I was talking to him just the other day about your doing some charity work with his organization, the BMU,” Gina said.
“You really think I’m going to need a lawyer?”
“I’d rather be safe than sorry. I’ll just have him on stand by. You know, just in case. But listen to me, don’t call her again. Just go on to practice and don’t mention this to anyone. Not even your coaches or friends on the team. And please, pretty please with whipped cream on top, don’t talk to any reporters. Tell them you’re concentrating on your game. The last thing we need after the Atlanta game is some type of negative press,” Gina said.
“Okay. I’m going to take my shower and head to practice,” Zurich said.
“Yeah, do that and I will talk to you later on this evening. But don’t worry, Gina DeMarco will take care of Miss Mia Miller. Am I right or am I wrong?”
“I hope you’re right, Gina. This time I hope you’re right.”