Everything about the man who had come with McDaniel to talk to Kali said that he was a minister. The presence of a man of God when police came to give bad news was a bit of grace intended to bring comfort in times of pain, but Faye didn’t think it was going to help today. Kali was too little, too young, too innocent to be told that her mother had gone to a better place. Even if the minister was right that Frida was in a better place, Kali needed her mother here with her.
Now McDaniel and the man in black were walking toward them. The sight of the approaching law officer and minister hit all the adults chasing Kali, and it hit them hard. Walt’s full-out speed slackened and halted. Sylvia stumbled for a step, then tried to get moving again.
Laneer, who had been walking more than running and yet was still breathing hard, stopped dead-still. When he spoke, his words gushed out in a single breath, like a prayer.
“Oh, Lord God, don’t do this, don’t take this baby’s mama away from her.”
Ahead of them, Kali skipped the steps and jumped flat-footed onto the porch. Pulling a key out of her pocket, she used it to burst through the front door of the home where she had lived with her mother until today. If she saw McDaniel and the strange man in black, she didn’t let on. She just disappeared into the dark house and let the door slam behind her.
Chapter Thirteen
Six adults hovered on the doorstep of Frida’s house. Faye supposed it was now Kali’s house, if Frida had owned it. If she had not, and Faye couldn’t imagine that the salary of a restaurant cleaner would pay a mortgage note, then thirty days or less stood between Kali and eviction. Homelessness. Not that a ten-year-old had any business living alone, even if the house was hers, by purchase or by lease.
Laneer was her great-great-uncle. Sylvia was her candy lady, whatever that was, but it didn’t seem to mean she was blood family. Unless Kali had closer kin, Faye presumed that the girl would sleep at Laneer’s house that night and every night for the foreseeable future. She looked at Laneer, standing bent over with his hands resting on his thighs, breathing deeply, and she wondered how long the old man would be able to take care of his great-great-niece.
Maybe there were other relatives to step in, if need be. Faye had only just met Kali and Laneer, so she had no idea. She found the situation inexpressibly sad.
The adults stood uncertainly in the front yard of Frida’s—Kali’s?—house. Laneer had caught his breath enough to speak, so he stood up straight and addressed the stranger in black.
Exuding the dignity of a patriarch doing what his family needed him to do, he spoke. “Reverend Atkinson, are you here to tell us something about Frida?”
Faye was close enough to see the small, shield-shaped pin on Reverend Atkinson’s lapel, adorned with a cross and an anvil. She remembered her friend Douglass wearing a pin like that when he was making deacon’s visits to the people in his congregation. This connection with her cherished father figure made her feel a little warmer toward the somber-faced man.
Reverend Atkinson looked at McDaniel, who nodded, so he cleared his throat to speak. “Ms. Stone breathed her last about an hour ago. She has gone to be with the angels.”
Tears washed down Laneer’s cheeks. “She was an angel her own self. Always was. Just the sweetest child. Her little voice was like music. Like bells ringing. And that pretty face of hers.”
Sylvia’s hands were clenched in her apron, wadding its black gingham fabric in both fists. “If it wasn’t for that pretty face, she’d be here right now. Wouldn’t have been raising that little girl on her own since she was a teenager, neither. Frida had the kind of face that brought the man-rats scurrying her way.”
“I give her credit,” Laneer said. “She was smart enough to run ’em off whenever she figured out she’d done it again. When she saw she’d let another rat into her life, she told him to get out. The thing is that there was always more where they come from.”
Sylvia gave a firm nod. “You said it. And now one of her rats has gone and killed her.”
McDaniel looked like he wanted to ask Laneer and Sylvia to give him a full accounting of Frida’s man-rats, but he knew that this wasn’t the time. “We have to let the little girl know about her mother.”
“Did Frida wake up at the end?” Laneer asked. “Did she have any last words for Kali? Something that would let her know that her mama was thinking about her and loved her?”
The minister shook his head. “I was with her when she passed. No, she didn’t speak. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe, not really, not after what that monster did to her.” He looked at Faye. “You’re the one that found her, right? You saw what bad shape she was in.”
Faye, trying not to think about what she’d seen, let out a few feeble words. “Yes. It was me.”
“I’ve watched lots of people die, so I could see she was going soon,” the minister said. “Frida hasn’t been so much for church since the baby came along, but I remembered about the little girl. I said I’d see to it that she was looked after,
