And Now She's Gone(24)

The woman said, “Not just her friend. Her best friend.”

Clarissa said hi and then introduced herself, as though all of this was normal.

“You’re not hot in that sweater?” Zadie asked.

“I’m fine. Thank you.”

Gray had pictured Tea as a tall, willowy blonde wearing Valentino slacks and a crisp blazer. Or the black Tea, with long dreadlocks, an R & B voice, and soulful brown eyes. Behind those bottle-bottom eyeglasses, this Tea had thick, gorgeous eyelashes like a cow’s. But there was dried blood around her torn cuticle, she was tall but not willowy, and the sweater set was more “way in the back of TJ Maxx” than anywhere at Neiman Marcus.

The two women slid into the banquette.

“Want a drink?” Gray asked.

The young woman nibbled the hangnail on her thumb. “A Sprite?”

“Sure.” Gray scanned the restaurant—no servers anywhere. Even Hank had disappeared. “Someone will be out in a minute. In the meantime, thanks for coming to see me. I know this must be difficult for you.”

“I’d do anything for Isabel.” Tea went back to nibbling that hangnail.

Gray smiled, hoping that Tea would see she had nothing to fear. “So, how long have you and Isabel been friends?”

“For about three years. I knocked on her door to offer Bible study with my church. Mount Gethsemane over on Crenshaw, by Dulan’s? I was surprised when she let me in, and we talked—about the Bible, about her life. The good and the bad. Mostly the bad. She’s so beautiful, but she needed more than someone saying how pretty she was. So we prayed, and then I picked her up for church that next Sunday and that was that. We’ve been inseparable ever since. Until now.” She glanced around the restaurant. “Is there food?”

Gray wanted to say, Nope, no food at a Mexican restaurant. Only sombreros and empty pi?atas. Instead, she said, “Umm…” and finally spotted a waitress near the kitchen.

Tea ordered that Sprite, along with a flauta, a chimichanga, and a beef torta. “I haven’t eaten all day. And then, after work—”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a communications associate at a theater arts nonprofit. We put on plays and readings, teach makeup arts, that kind of thing. I’m responsible for newsletters and the blog.”

This young woman was so well-spoken. Not a “like” or a “yup” or a “I can’t even” in the five minutes they’d spent together.

“After work,” Tea continued, “I had to stop at church, and then I came here, so I haven’t eaten dinner yet.”

Gray waved a hand. “It’s no problem.”

“Is Grayson your real name?”

Scalp tight and smile frozen in place, Gray nodded.

Tea closed her eyes and whispered. After ending her prayer with “Amen,” the woman took a deep breath, slowly exhaled, then opened her eyes. “I just want the Holy Spirit to guide me, cuz the words that are about to come out of my mouth are mine, not Isabel’s. And I also prayed for you, Miss Sykes, that you do the right thing, that God guides your investigation. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“There are a lot of reasons Isabel left, and Ian is the cause for all of them. He hurt her so bad—physically hurt her—that she can’t even move her arm all the way—”

Gray held up a hand. “Dr. O’Donnell abused her?” Just like she’d thought.

Tea blinked her cow lashes. “Am I speaking Greek?”

“Like you, I want the words coming out of both of our mouths to be clear. What you’re telling me is … explosive.”

“I know.”

“When did he hit her?”

“The last time was in April.”

“Did she take pictures afterward?”

“Maybe. Probably.” Calm, Tea folded her hands atop the table. “You saw him today?”

Gray nodded.

“On Valentine’s Day, Isabel cooked for him, since it was their first Valentine’s together. She bought this special outfit and everything. Decorated the condo. Totally romantic. He was supposed to come over at seven that night, but he didn’t show up. Eight o’clock and still no Ian. He called her at ten, claiming that he had to take his mother to the emergency room.”

“Was he lying?”

“He said that he had called Isabel and had left messages…”

“But?”

“But Isabel was so upset that she didn’t hear her phone ring. Knowing Ian, though, he probably lied and didn’t leave any messages but then blamed her for not picking them up. He did stuff like that all the time. Make her think that she was the crazy one.”

Sadie returned to their booth, holding a tray filled with dinner plates. To Gray, she said, “This is for you. From Hank.” She set down a margarita and a note scribbled on a napkin.

“You licked it so it’s yours.”

Gray’s face warmed, and she didn’t dare look over at him, out of fear she’d kaboom! and leave pieces of herself all over the pi?atas and sombreros.

Across from her, Isabel’s best friend was whispering a blessing over her meal. Then Tea grabbed the bottle of Cholula and dumped about thirty cups of it onto her torta. “Did he tell you about Memorial Day weekend?”