Damaged Goods Read Online Free Page B

murder, but the other thing, you know…”
    â€œManslaughter,” Hannibal filled in. “Probably involuntary under the circumstances. And this is very good. Thank you.”
    â€œYou’re welcome,” she said, seeming to draw energy from the small compliment. “Anyway, Daddy had never been in trouble before. So he was supposed to do three to five years, right down there in Greenville.”
    â€œCold Springs Correctional,” Hannibal said. “Two and a half, three hours south of here. But not a bad place, as such places go. Minimum security.”
    â€œThey figured if he behaved he’d be out in two years. But in the meantime, there was no money. I left school and got a job with a house cleaning company, but I knew it wouldn’t be that long.”
    The espresso was hot and strong and flavored with just enough cinnamon. Hannibal guessed it was brewed from medium roast Arabica beans. He let it play across his tongue as he listened. “And is your dad still away?”
    â€œDaddy,” Anita clenched her eyes together for just a moment. “Daddy died in prison last year. They said it was aheart attack. Sudden. Unexpected.”
    In that instant, Hannibal’s coffee became as bitter as ashes. No, he realized, it was this young woman’s life that had turned to ashes in a matter of months.
    â€œI’m so sorry. What did you do? Was there insurance?”
    â€œHe had it at work,” Anita said, “but it lapsed while he was away. He had left some savings, but with keeping the house going and the, you know.”
    Hannibal nodded. “The final arrangements. I understand. So you kept working. And I assume you looked for the gift that your father left behind.”
    â€œI never found anything that looked valuable in the house,” Anita replied. Her fists were clenched tight as she spoke. “Of course, I didn’t know what I was looking for. Jewelry? Stocks? An account number? No idea. Anyway, after enough time passed I began to even wonder if there was a hidden treasure. Maybe he just told me that to keep my courage up while he was in prison. But I kept on with life, you know, cleaning and saving up to get back to college. And then Rod came.”
    â€œRod is the boyfriend?” Hannibal asked.
    Anita’s lips pressed tightly together. “Could you please take off your glasses, Mr. Jones?”
    Hannibal slid his Oakley’s off his face. Anita stared for only a moment. Maybe it didn’t seem as odd to her as it had to some others.
    â€œAre they blue?”
    â€œSometimes,” Hannibal said. “Technically I guess you’d say hazel.”
    â€œMen don’t have hazel eyes. For sure Black men don’t. You are unusual.”
    â€œI don’t mean to be,” Hannibal said. “Now, Rod? The boyfriend?”
    Anita locked eyes with Hannibal as if preparing for some reaction. “Rod was my lover, Mr. Jones. He showed up at the house about a month after daddy passed. He said he had known my father in prison, and daddy would have wanted him to take care of me. He had no place to go. I was lonely.So, I let him stay with me.”
    Hannibal knew she was steeled against disapproval, but it was not his place to judge her. For him, these were just facts in a case. Every case eventually grew out of people doing wrong and if he tried to sort the good people from the bad he’d never have a client. He sipped his coffee. It had grown cold, but bringing the cup to his lips gave his hands something to do.
    â€œI take it your father told you about this fellow?”
    â€œHe had mentioned him,” Anita said. “And he showed up at the right time. None of my father’s other friends from work or anywhere ever bothered to check on me after the funeral. All my friends were up at school. I was alone, starting to drift, wandering aimlessly. Do you understand that, Mr. Jones? I needed someone to guide me, to help me get