Two weeks had passed since the murder outside of Yolanda’s shop and she hadn’t been back. She’d given Kelly all of the excuses she could muster, from being sick to going out to do some meetings with designers. All she’d really done was hide out in her house and talk herself out of going to the police about what she’d seen. Yolanda had called the Crime Stoppers hotline, but when she was put on hold three times, she’d lost her nerve.
Today, she made the decision to head back to the shop. Kelly had taken on a lot of responsibility for the summer sale and the end-of-the-day reports proved that she’d been working hard. Yolanda couldn’t keep leaning on her store manager like this. As she drove to downtown Richmond, she felt as if every car was following her. Then when she saw a Chrysler 300, she yelped. Thankfully, there was an older man driving and not giving her a second look. Arriving at work, she parked in the garage across the street and headed into her boutique.
“Aww, the prodigal owner returns,” Kelly said as she folded shirts for a display in the middle of the shop.
“I’m here and you can go home for the day.”
“Are you sure?”
Yolanda nodded. “I can’t thank you enough for holding this place together over the last two weeks.”
“It’s been my pleasure. And that display window has brought so many people in. I think it’s the disco ball.”
Yolanda shuddered inwardly. That damned window had been why she couldn’t sleep at night. But since the story had left the headlines and the evening news, maybe the killers didn’t care who saw them.
That made her feel a little better about not calling the police. Though, she’d never tell another person that she’d seen the killing. It was bad enough that Kelly knew.
“Hey, Yolanda,” Kelly said before she headed out the door. “I meant to tell you, the neighborhood watch leader, Walton Kennerly, came by and said the detectives on the Bobby G. killing want the videos from the security cameras.”
Yolanda’s breath caught in her chest. “Um, what did you do?”
“I told Walton he’d have to talk to you.” Kelly took a deep breath. “I think you should just give it to them. There are a lot of people who want to know what happened to Bobby G.”
“Let me ask you something,” Yolanda said. “If I give Walton the video, is there anything on it that identifies our shop?” She closed her eyes and watched the scene in the alley play out in her head all over again.
“I don’t think so, it just has the time stamp and the alley. Have you been all right, being that you . . .”
The bell above the door rang, indicating that they had a customer. Yolanda was about to smile until she saw it was Walton.
Walton was the kind of guy who had gotten passed over for hall monitor in middle school and used his adult life to make up for that slight. She shook her head as she watched him walk in, dressed in dad jeans and golf shirt. His bald head glistened with sweat as he crossed over to Yolanda. He always looked as if he had tasted sour milk.
“Yolanda, glad to see that you’re here,” he said, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“What’s going on, Walton?” she asked as she folded her arms across her chest.
“We’re trying to help the police solve Bobby G.’s murder and I heard you all might have some video of what happened that night.”
Yolanda shot Kelly a cold look. There went her bonus. Kelly turned away from her and looked down at her feet.
“Yeah, possibly,” she said.
“I’m collecting the videos to give to the police, so, what do you have?”
“Give me a second to download the security video,” Yolanda said as she started toward her office. “You can keep him company, Kelly.”
“But I thought,” she started. Yolanda rolled her eyes and headed for her office. She grabbed one of the USB drives she kept in her desk and downloaded the video. Watching it again made her stomach lurch. Maybe this was enough. Walton could be the hero and no one would know that she’d been in the alley.
Moments later, she returned to the showroom, where Kelly was helping a few customers. The two girls from Virginia Union University whom she’d hired as clerks and Instagram influencers were on the floor as well. Fine, Kelly could leave. “All right, Walton, here you go.”
“Thanks. You never noticed the things that happened on this video before Kelly told you about it?”
“I don’t check the feed every day.”
Walton expelled a frustrated breath. “I asked all of the businesses here to do that in the last three newsletters that I sent out. Does the safety of the district not mean anything to you?”
Yolanda closed her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose. “I don’t need your attitude right now. You have the video, now please leave.”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to give you ‘attitude,’ as you say, but it’s scary to know that someone was murdered here.”
Who the hell are you telling? she thought as she offered him a plastic smile. “Well, Walton, I have customers.”
“Just a quick reminder, the next neighborhood watch meeting is Friday. Diamont’s will be providing the refreshments.”
Yolanda was tempted to go to the meeting to sample the new bakery’s goods, but listening to Walton go on and on for hours was enough to make her decide to skip the meeting. Then again, Yolanda figured she needed to see if any other business owners knew about the murder. In her heart, she hoped someone else had seen Danny and the bulldog, then called the police. The more time passed, the more her conscience gnawed at her.
Bobby had a family and she knew she’d be devastated if someone killed . . . She wouldn’t allow the thought to fester in her mind.
“I’ll be there,” she finally said. Her response was enough to get Walton to leave. Yolanda greeted her customers before heading back to her office. Sitting at her desk, she glanced at the phone and thought about calling the police. Fear paralyzed her as she placed her hand on the phone. Her name would be public record, her address and her phone number. What if they came after her?
And who was this Danny person? How dangerous was he? Yolanda wasn’t willing to find out. She figured if she kept quiet, she could stay alive. So far it had worked, and if it wasn’t broken, she wasn’t going to fix it.
The summer moved quickly for Yolanda and despite looking over her shoulder every time she left the house, things had been good for her. The business had been booming, and Yolanda had been creating sketches and designing outfits for her own fashion line that she’d launch one day. She thought they were good. And she was actually going to have one made. A snow white leather jumpsuit. Just like Nina and their father, Sheldon, Yolanda was a fan of movie star Pam Grier. The jumpsuit reminded her of the blaxploitation movies she’d watch when Sheldon wasn’t looking. If she were taller, she’d make some bell-bottoms.
Yolanda still avoided Walton’s meetings, even if she did go to the one he held shortly after giving him the video. She’d been surprised that she hadn’t seen the video on the local news. One thing TV news was good for was showing the death of a Black man, no matter who the killer was.
Had people forgotten about Bobby G.? Unsolved murders weren’t new when it came to people of color. Could she exhale or would she feel guilt for the rest of her life knowing that she could’ve done something to put two criminals behind bars?
Yolanda pulled out her sketch pad, which she had been doing a lot more lately. It was as if designing made her focus on everything except what she knew.
“Knock-knock,” Kelly said from the doorway. “Look who got roses.”
Yolanda looked up from her pad. “Really? I wonder why my dad felt the urge to send me flowers,” she said as she took in the dozen red roses in Kelly’s arms.
“You can hold out on me all you want,” she quipped. “There is some man in Richmond who is mad about you.”
“And you didn’t look at the card?”
“I try to mind my business,” Kelly said with a wink as she set the roses on the edge of the desk then headed out of the office. Now, Yolanda was curious. Where did the flowers come from? She picked up the crystal vase and sniffed one of the fragrant roses. Then she saw the card. At first she thought it was a red ink slosh on the outside of the white envelope. But as she looked at the card, it looked like a bloody fingerprint. Okay, this is weird, she thought as she opened the card.
When she read the card, her knees quaked and she dropped the vase to the floor. Yolanda screamed and Kelly came running into the office.
“Yolanda, what’s wrong?”
“Shut everything down. I have to get out of here,” Yolanda stammered.
Kelly looked at the broken vase and the roses and water on the floor. “What happened?”
“Just shut everything down,” Yolanda said as she grabbed her purse and sketch pad. She dashed out the back door and ran to her car. Yolanda started her car and sped out of the parking lot. The words on that card echoed in her head.
Talk and bitch you’re dead. We know who you are and you’re not safe. There was no way she’d go to the police now. She was going to the one place where she could be at peace for a little while: She was going to the Richardson Bed and Breakfast in her hometown of Charleston, South Carolina.
The Richardson Bed and Breakfast was a crown jewel in the Charleston landscape. Sheldon and Nora Richardson built the historic bed-and-breakfast at a time when Jim Crow ruled the South. They turned their property into a place where everyone was welcomed and treated like royalty. Yolanda loved that her family brought so much joy to people. And she was even happier that Sheldon didn’t expect all of his daughters to follow in his footsteps. Besides, her older sister Alexandria had filled those footprints and made them her own. She was Sheldon’s right hand and good at her job. Though all of the younger Richardson sisters knew Alex needed a life that went beyond the doors of the bed-and-breakfast, too bad she didn’t see it that way. If Alex wasn’t hard at work, she was deep in Nina’s business or judging Yolanda for her choices that didn’t line up with what Alex thought she should be doing. At least that’s how Yolanda always saw things with her older sister.
Alex and Yolanda were always at odds with each other. Sheldon nicknamed them oil and water. But when things really mattered, all of the Richardsons stood together. Yolanda wondered what her sisters would say if they knew she was being threatened. Would they talk her into going to the police or would they stand by her decision of self-preservation?
It didn’t matter because she was going to hide this from her family as long as she could. And since the card in those roses said she was being watched, Yolanda decided to check in to a hotel for the night, then decide when she’d go to Charleston. She drove to Petersburg, which was about a half hour outside of Richmond, and hoped that no one had followed her. Part of her wanted to call her sister Robin, who was an attorney, and ask her what she should do. But knowing Robin, Yolanda figured she’d make her go back to Richmond and meet her at the police department to make a statement.
And what if telling Robin put her in danger? She knew something was going on with her sister and her brother-in-law, Dr. Logan Baptiste, but no one would tell her what was happening. Guess that’s how things roll when people think you’re the family firecracker, she surmised as she pulled into the parking lot of the Ragland Mansion B&B. Since it was the middle of the week, she prayed the property had at least one vacancy. Heading into the lobby, she couldn’t help but compare this place to her family’s bed-and-breakfast. She could admit that the mansion was beautiful, but the Richardson B&B had an ocean view and the win in her book.
After checking into her room, Yolanda hated that she hadn’t grabbed some clothes from the store, but at least she had her toothbrush and toothpaste in her bag. Was this going to be life from now on? On the run, looking over her shoulder and dreading being alone? Yolanda built her life spending time by herself, but that was because she wanted to get lost in drawing and making clothes for her dolls. Then Nina came along and it was as if she had a doll who grew into her best friend. The two youngest sisters of the Richardson clan had their own language and own ways of getting on Alex’s nerves when they were growing up. And Yolanda was sure Alex would think that they still did.
Flinging herself onto the soft bed, Yolanda buried her face in the pillows and tried to quiet the fear in her head. After twenty minutes of tossing and turning, she knew she was going to need wine to get any rest.
Before she headed for the bar, Yolanda decided to turn on the local news and see if there was any news about an arrest in Bobby G.’s murder. She thought it was cute the TV’s start-up channel was ESPN. After all, it was about time for college football to start and then NFL preseason had kicked off about a week ago. She was about to flip the channel when she heard Nina’s name.
“What the hell?” she muttered. Nina Richardson was a freelance sportswriter based out of Charlotte, North Carolina. The joke around the bed-and-breakfast had always been that Nina got into sports to keep from doing chores with her sisters. The fact that Sheldon let her get away with it never ceased to amaze Yolanda. Especially since she didn’t get away with much growing up.
“Social media is blowing up after Panthers QB Cody Cameron called sportswriter Nina Richardson sweetheart in the middle of the postgame press conference after he threw three INTs, got sacked three times, and lost a fumble.”
“Asshole,” Yolanda muttered as she watched the exchange. How Nina kept her poise, she’d never know. Must have gotten that from their father. Yolanda would’ve slapped the fashion-challenged quarterback. But she’d almost pay him to let her design some clothes that would celebrate his body and style instead of having him look like a carnival hustler looking to sell snake oil.
Yolanda knew how hard Nina worked to be taken seriously in a male-dominated industry. Another testament to her sister’s professionalism: She never dated a player, never commented on the number of men she’d seen naked in the locker rooms other than saying, “It’s just a body. And it stinks in there.”
Yolanda was proud of her sister and if people were on social media calling her baby sister names, then she was going to clap back, because she knew Nina wouldn’t. First, she needed to talk to her sister. And secretly, Yolanda was happy for the distraction. She called Nina and closed her eyes as she waited for her sister to answer the phone.
“What is it, Yolanda?” Nina asked dejectedly.
“Why do you sound like somebody stole your dog?”
“Because somebody did! This whole Cody situation has gotten me suspended. . . .”
“What? That is some bullshit. You should’ve told his ass off since you still got in trouble anyway. You can do better than writing for some local rag anyway. Why aren’t people jumping on your side like they do when a white girl gets treated like this?”
“Because I’m not a white girl and . . .”
“Them Twitter trolls are out of pocket and before I pop off . . .”
“Look, Yolanda, I got to go. I’m tired of talking about this and everything else.”
Now, Yolanda was worried. Something didn’t sound right in her sister’s voice and it was clear to her that it wasn’t about social media and football. “What else is going on? Spill it, Nina.”
Her sister sighed into the phone, then launched into what sounded like a tear-filled story about the guy she was dating, Lamar Geddings. Nina said that after the game she’d gone to a diner and seen Lamar on a date with another woman and he’d had the unmitigated gall to introduce Nina to the woman he’d been eating with. Yolanda was pissed. Who did this loser think he was? Though she’d never met Lamar in person, Nina had sent her a picture and that man was average at best. And he thought he could do better than Nina Richardson? Smart, beautiful, and built like a brick house.
“Oh, girl, I’m . . .”
“We’ll talk later,” Nina said, then hung up the phone. Yolanda wanted to head to Charlotte and fight that overgrown man child for making her sister cry and throw eggs at Cody Cameron. But she was going to have to figure some things out first. Like, if had Danny and the bulldog been arrested. Walton acted as if the videos from everyone’s security tapes were so important in solving the crime. Yet, nothing had happened and those killers were still on the streets.
When she finally made it to the local CBS channel, she noticed that there wasn’t a word said about Bobby G. or the murder. If these killers saw that she hadn’t been to the police, why were they threatening her? She wasn’t a threat to them. Still, they wanted her dead.
After spending two nights in Petersburg, Yolanda found the courage to go home. Perhaps the heat had died down and she could rest in her own bed. She could reopen her shop and return to some kind of normal life. But when she arrived at home, there was a white floral box on her doorstep. Since her last experience with flowers ended up being a death threat, Yolanda wasn’t happy to see the box. She wasn’t dealing with anyone who sent flowers and Sheldon only sent his daughters bouquets on their birthdays and Valentine’s Day. It was neither of those days. She started to pick up the box, but every Investigation Discovery show about bombs in boxes and flowers hiding poison that could kill with one touch flashed in her head. She kicked the box down the steps and waited to see if it would explode. It didn’t, but roses spilled down the steps. Then she saw the note underneath the spot where the box had been.
Die Bitch, written in big red letters. Yolanda looked at the door to see if anyone had been inside while she was gone. She reached for the doorknob and was happy to see that it was still locked. But she wasn’t going to stick around and wait for these people to come back. Yolanda unlocked the door and dashed inside the house. As she frantically packed a bag, Yolanda looked around the house to see if anything was out of place. It hadn’t seemed as if anyone had been inside and she was thankful for that.
Taking a deep breath, she decided to call Nina and let her know that she was going to come to Charleston this weekend. But she needed to keep things light with her sister. She didn’t want to tell anyone in her family about the threats and what she was dealing with. She just needed to feel safe for a few days and figure things out.
But did these people know about her family in South Carolina? Would she be followed and put her father and sisters in danger? What about the guests at the B&B? Yolanda decided that she’d drop her car off at the airport and rent a car. Maybe that would give her time to get her shit together and build up enough courage to report what she saw and the threats that she was facing.
An hour later, she was heading to the Richmond International Airport. Yolanda parked in the long-term lot and took the shuttle to the Enterprise counter. Even though she knew she was probably going to pay a pretty penny for this last-minute rental. She decided to rent a Maxima, something totally different from the Lexus she normally drove. When the clerk handed her the keys, she decided to tell anyone who asked that her car was in the shop for a recall.
After she got into the black sedan, she called Nina to check on her sister’s drama. Nina was still upset about her breakup with Lamar and Yolanda used that as a reason for her to come to Charleston. Why tell her sister that she was running from killers?
“Listen, don’t tell Alex that I’m coming. I want to surprise her,” Yolanda said.
“Promise me that you will be nice to Alex. I don’t want to play referee between you two all weekend.”
“I’ll be on my best behavior,” Yolanda said without laughing, but she was sure Nina knew that wasn’t true.
After hanging up with her sister, Yolanda focused on the road and made sure every car on her bumper wasn’t following her. She arrived in Charleston about seven hours later, but instead of heading directly to the bed-and-breakfast, Yolanda decided to check in to a hotel along the interstate and wait to head over to Richardson Bed and Breakfast on Friday morning. She hated being this close to home and not being able to go there immediately. She wanted to hug her father. She wanted to just be around him and feel safe for the first time in months. But she had to make sure that her family was safe before she went over there. That meant seeing if she received any additional threats here.
For the next few months, Yolanda made every excuse in the book to be in Charleston at the bed and breakfast or in Charlotte with Nina. She hadn’t gotten anymore threats, but that had a lot to do with the fact that she’d been anywhere but Richmond. After Clinton Jefferson, the B&B’s marketing manager and the man whom Nina was now falling for, had gotten Sheldon featured in USA Today, Yolanda used the photo shoot as a reason to extend her stay. And then, Nina needed a makeover, so she had to oversee it.
It wasn’t long before Alex noticed and cornered Yolanda at breakfast one morning. “What’s going on with you?” Alex asked as she took Yolanda’s bowl of grits from her hand. “I know you can’t run your boutique from here.”
“That’s why I trust the people who work for me.”
“Yolanda, I know you and that little boutique of yours is . . .”
“Stop right there. Every time you talk about my successful business, you have to throw in a jab. Just worry about yourself and leave me the hell alone.” She snatched her bowl back and stormed out of the dining room.
A smarter person would’ve taken that moment to tell Alex what was going on, but in that moment, Yolanda wasn’t ready to confess what was going on. And s. . .
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