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roommates with this man,
    who was seven years older than him, Vi thought surely it would not last.
    However, she’d been dead wrong. Over the past four years, Craig and
    Clayton had lived together, worked together and become very good friends.
    Clayton was so much a part of her son’s life that everyone knew him and
    treated him like part of the family at their gatherings.
    While all these thoughts ran swiftly through her mind, she glanced at her
    watch. Absently, she realized, she was probably going to be late for work.
    Not giving it too much thought, she continued to search for her keys. Her
    sister, Cynthia, normally got in early and could easily open up. Shortly after
    Vi opened the salon several years back, she had asked Cynthia to join her.
    Cynthia was good with figures and handled all the books and financial
    aspects of the business. Although, she’d gone to school and knew how to run
    the business end just as well as Cynthia, Vi enjoyed the people side of her
    business and stayed active ensuring her customers were totally satisfied with
    each visit. In addition to Cynthia, Vi considered her small staff, Andre,
    Nicole and Liana, some of the best stylists in the business.
    Finally locating the keys in her purse, Vi pulled them out and swung them
    triumphantly in the air. It wasn’t until she was ready to leave that she
    noticed for the first time that Clayton hadn’t spoken a word, since he greeted
    her and she’d come downstairs. Studying him closely now, she saw that his
    eyes were red and his mouth was pulled into a tight, grim line.
    “Clayton, what is it? Is Craig with you?” she inquired, looking past him
    now. When she took a step toward him, he swallowed hard, his Adams apple
    bobbing up and down in his throat.
    “Mrs. Simpson,” he started and then fell silent. The only noise came from
    a radio playing faintly somewhere at the back of the house. Vi became
    instantly concerned, she knew things about this young man that he didn’t
    know she knew. She knew about his awful childhood and how his parents
    treated him as if they wished he’d never been born. Craig was very quick to
    tell her Clay was very proud and refused to let his past color his future. It
    was why her son admired this man so much. His strength and conviction to
    turn his life around is what made him a good cop, one who was respected by
    all his fellow officers. Vi welcomed Clayton into her home and invited him
    to every family gathering they had because she knew he had no one. Just last
    week when she called Craig’s apartment, he was out and Clayton picked up.
    26

    Just before she hung up, she automatically invited him to the upcoming
    Fourth of July BBQ. He’d thanked her and said he’d be there if he didn’t
    have to work. Although, she really didn’t know him well, it was obvious
    something was bothering him. Tentatively, Vi reached out and touched his
    forearm in concern.
    “Clayton,” she said, “do you need to talk?”
    Clearing his throat twice, Clayton tried to dislodge the lump threatening to
    close his windpipe. Forcefully, he cleared it on the third try and reached out
    to capture both her hands within his own. The rose-scented lotion she rubbed
    on her hands only moments ago teased his nostrils. Instead of feeling
    slippery, he noted the hands he held were soft and small within his grip.
    “Mrs. Simpson, something terrible has happened,” he finally said.
    Searching her face, Clayton quickly decided the only way to get through this
    was to just say it.
    “There was a robbery this morning. Craig was caught in the middle of it
    and got shot.”
    “Craig’s been shot? How bad is it? Please, Clayton, take me to him.” Her
    eyes registered instant alarm and she tried to dislodge her hands from his and
    move toward the front door. But, instead of releasing her hands, he gripped
    them tighter. She looked up at him and the confusion he saw in her eyes
    made him swear viciously.
    Dammit, she didn’t understand.