Part 21 (1/2)
Jake and Glenna both needed to rest after lunch, but I didn't dare lie down. I feared my dreams. This might be a good time to see Kateisha, and maybe Josheba would like to go with me. ”Want to meet me at the center and see what she has to say?” I asked.
”I'll do better than that,” Josheba offered. ”I'll come get you.”
”Is Morse home yet?” I asked as I climbed in the car.
”Not yet, but he's promised to get back by Sat.u.r.day. My club is having a big dance, and I don't want to miss it.”
Two blocks from the center we stopped for a light and saw Twaniba standing listlessly on the corner. Josheba rolled down her window. ”Do you want a ride to the center? We're going over to see if Kateisha is there.”
”Kateisha's home with toothache,” Twaniba murmured, scarcely moving her mouth.
”Do you know where she lives?”
”Yessum.” Twaniba gave lifeless but accurate instructions.
Kateisha lived in one of the most dilapidated houses I'd ever visited, a dingy white bungalow with a sagging porch, faded brown trim, chipped cement steps, and a bare dirt yard. Not one flower bloomed around the spindly, untrimmed spirea that cowered in front.
Kateisha herself was sitting on the edge of the splintery porch, picking her hair. She hadn't made the spout yet today, so it all stood straight off her head like she'd stuck her finger in a socket. One cheek was plumper than usual.
”I hear you've got a toothache,” I greeted her, concerned. ”Have you seen a dentist?”
”Don't need no dentist. It'll get better. Always does. What you all doing here?” She tried to sound casual, but I could tell she was both pleased and embarra.s.sed.
”Looking for you.” Josheba sat on the rough porch boards with her feet on a cracked concrete step. In honor of my new skirt, I decided to stand.
”How'd you know how to find me? Did Screwy Lewey give out my address?”
”No, it was Twaniba.” I swatted away a curious fly.
”Good old Cowface.” Kateisha pulled a weed that grew up beside the porch and used it to tickle her plump, bare knee. She looked at Josheba from the corner of her eyes. ”You still seeing Mr. Henly?” she asked suspiciously.
Josheba laughed, but seemed nervous. ”I'm not seeing him, girl. I'm engaged to a man named Morse.”
Kateisha glowered. ”You like him, though. I can tell.” She threw the weed into the dirt. ”Could be dangerous. Harriet used to like him. Now she's missing.”
I looked at her sharply. ”Do you think that's why she's missing?”
Her big shoulders heaved in a shrug. ”Don't ast me. All I know is, Harriet got somethin' on Screwy Lewey, and two weeks later she up *n' disappeared.”
”We think we've found her,” Josheba said flatly.
Kateisha's eyes widened. ”Where? What she been doing all this time?”
”If it's really her, she's dead, honey.” I gave her as many details as I thought wise.
Kateisha sucked in her breath and winced as the air hit her sore tooth, but she didn't mention the pain. She sat silent for some time, then demanded, ”When, you say?”
”June tenth, in Oakwood Cemetery.”
”What'd I tell you?” Kateisha muttered in a low voice. ”She got something on Mr. Henly, and somebody offed her.”
”What do you mean she *got something on him'?” I asked. ”What was it?”
Josheba clasped her hands so tightly in her lap, the skin was almost splitting.
”I don't know,” Kateisha shook her head. ”But *bout two weeks before school let out, Harriet say she found out somethin' about Mr. Henly he didn't never want n.o.body to know. She say she could get offed for knowin', but he was payin' her-”
Josheba yanked a weed that was growing right in the step, and twisted it like she'd like to wring Kateisha's neck. ”That's not the way it was, Kateisha. I know what Harriet knew about Mr. Henly. It wasn't anything to get killed for knowing.”
”I know she hit on him for money not to tell,” Kateisha insisted, rolling her eyes.
Josheba rolled her eyes right back. ”So she couldn't have been afraid of him, then, could she?”
”Maybe not.” Kateisha picked her hair like she had nothing better to do. In a minute she muttered, ”Harriet had something on her uncle, too, but I don't know what. Bragged all the time he pay her ten dollars a week not to tell her auntie.” She wiggled around and stuck the pick in her back pocket. ”Could be he offed her *stead of paying up one week.” She thought it over and rejected her own suggestion. ”Nanh-he wasn't payin' that much.”
I shared her doubts. ”How about Ricky Dodd-do you know him?” I asked.
”Sure. He ain't much, but he was sorta like a brother to Harriet, you know? *Cept'n more so. I don't worry over Dre like Harriet did Ricky. Dre can take care of himself-and if he don't, it's no skin off me. Harriet worried all the time over Ricky-but she didn't take nothin' off him. Said if he gave her trouble, she'd see he got busted.”
”For what?” I wondered if Kateisha knew about Ricky's recent jail stint.
”Oh,” Kateisha waved casually, ”you know. Drugs, that sort of stuff. He's been in twict already.” She sounded like that was a normal part of life. Maybe in hers, it was.
”Did you know that Harriet took a gun away from him?”
”Course I knew. She stashed it in a drawer, but I told her she better put it in a safer place. Anybody coulda found it there-that cousin of hers, her auntie, her uncle, anybody. Even her auntie's maid. Folks don't look too kindly on kids with guns.” You'd have thought she was the world's foremost authority on that subject.
”So what did Harriet do with the gun?”
”I dunno. Said she'd get rid of it, but I forgot to ast if she did.” Kateisha found a scab on her knee and started to pick at it.
”Did Harriet ever talk about money?”
Kateisha hesitated, then nodded. ”Her granny lef' her some. I don't know how much, but Harriet was alius talking about what she was going to do when she turned twenty-one.” Her voice grew mournful. ”Now she won't get to do it.”
”I want to try and find out who did this to Harriet, Kateisha,” I told her, ”but I need your help. Harriet's aunt said she left their house on Sat.u.r.day, June first, but she wasn't found dead until the tenth. Do you have any idea where she was staying?”
”I know where she was staying up to Tuesday,” she boasted-adding, ”but I can't tell.”
”Why not?”
”I promised Harriet.”
”Harriet's dead, Kateisha,” Josheba reminded her.
”She might still be listening,” Kateisha said mulishly. ”I don't want her hanging around my bed at night.”
She's hanging around mine instead, I thought. Instead of saying it, I played a hunch. ”Let me guess, and you just nod or shake your head. Was she staying here?”
Kateisha hesitated, then nodded.