Daylight (Atlee Pine, #3)(21)

“Nothing fair about that,” said Pine.

Despite the cold, a group of young men played pickup basketball on a cracked asphalt court, pouring in three-pointers and slamming dunks through a rim with no net. As Pine and Blum passed by, some of the men stopped to watch them, their expressions not exactly friendly.

Blum said, “It’s the next house on the left.”

Pine pulled into the driveway of a one-story bungalow with a metal carport, under which was parked a Buick two-door. A pair of flowerpots were on the stoop. In the distance they could hear a dog barking.

“So how come Superman didn’t come with us?” asked Blum. “I’d like to meet the Man of Steel.”

“You will, Carol. But the fact is he’s got a ton on his plate right now and superiors to answer to. I can only imagine the debriefings and paperwork John’s having to do right now, what with losing an agent like that. But I told him what I planned to do, and I’ll report back to him what we find.”

Pine noted that the house had a fresh coat of paint and what looked like a fairly new shingled roof. The colorful curtains in the windows were warm and inviting.

They got out and walked up the sidewalk to the front stoop. Before they could knock, the door opened and a black woman in her forties stared back at them. She looked over their shoulders and said brusquely, “Come on in.”

Before she stepped through the opening, Pine looked back and saw a small knot of young men gathering outside on the street in front of the house.

“Are those friends of Jerome’s?” asked Pine.

“Just come on in,” said the woman. After they did, she closed the door firmly behind them and locked it.

She settled them in the front living room, where the large picture window overlooked the street. Pine kept one eye there and observed that the young men were coming closer.

“You’re Mrs. Blake?” began Blum.

The woman nodded, her expression both grief stricken and nerve-racked. “Cheryl Blake. Just call me Cee-Cee, everybody does.”

“We’re very sorry about Jerome,” said Pine.

“On the phone you told me that you were there,” Blake said, her voice cracking. “When it happened.”

She pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes, which were red and angry looking. She had on a long sweatshirt and black running tights and tennis shoes with ankle socks. She was about five four with a strong, athletic build. Muscles in her neck flexed and receded as she spoke.

Pine said, “Yes, I was there. I tried to talk him into putting his gun down.”

“But you wasn’t the one to shoot him.”

“No. That was a local police officer. But another man was killed. An Army investigator. I’m trying to understand what, if any, connection Jerome had to that.”

“The police came by late last night. To let me know about Jerome. And to ask questions. And they came by again this morning. They took stuff from his room.”

“Do you have other children?” asked Blum.

“Two. My oldest, Willie. He’s on his own now. Living and working in Delaware. And then I got Jewel. She’s in middle school. Only fourteen. She’s upstairs sleeping. Cried her eyes out all night. She loved her brother.”

“I’m sure she did,” said Blum.

Pine interjected, “Jerome had a gun last night. A Glock. Have you ever seen that weapon around here?”

“Cops asked the same thing and I’ll tell you what I told them, Jerome didn’t have no gun. He never wanted a gun and he didn’t have one,” she added fiercely.

“Well, he had one last night. I’m just trying to piece things together.”

Blake eyed her suspiciously. “You say you’re with the government? You got something that says that?”

Pine pulled out her cred pack and badge and showed them to Blake. “I’m with the FBI. I was meeting with another Army investigator when the shooting happened. We’re working the case together.”

“What you want me to tell you?”

“What did you tell the police?”

“The truth, but they don’t want to believe it.”

“I’d like to hear it,” said Pine.

Blake settled back in her chair and rubbed her eyes and blew her nose into the tissue. Then her softened features turned hard and her expression became fierce.

“Look, I’m not stupid, okay? I know the police come here and think, ‘Okay, here we damn well go again. Same old shit. Black man kills a white man, so he got what he deserved.’ But see, the picture here is different. Way different.”

“Tell me,” said Pine.

“For starters, Jerome was smart, real smart, the smart that you’re born with and then you get smarter by sucking up all the information you can. He got straight As in school. He was going to college, already getting scholarship offers and he’s still a junior. Because of his brain,” she added sharply.

“Okay,” said Pine. “Keep going.”

“Now, the police came here and start telling me that what happened last night is because Jerome was doing some gang thing. Kill someone. Kill a fed, they said. Initiation shit.”

“They actually said that to you?” asked Pine incredulously.

“Sure as I’m sitting here talking to you.”