I Saw Your Profile Read online

  “We can’t wait a few days, Ms. Singleton. I’ll give you until tomorrow.”

  Arianna called Kenny. He recommended a lawyer who’d been in the news a lot for winning high profile cases in Delaware. She caught him just as he was heading to court. He agreed to see her that afternoon. She called out sick and drove to Wilmington.

  Kenny met Arianna at Joshua Berger’s office. He was a short, balding Jewish man in his mid-fifties. Her story intrigued him, particularly since he was recently divorced and had signed up with an online dating service for Jewish singles.

  His fee was high, but the many framed articles about the cases he’d won on his office wall told her he was worth it.

  His first move would be to find out Chauncey’s cause of death.

  “Do you know what this Brenda has told LAPD?” he asked.

  “No. I haven’t talked to her since the police contacted me.”

  “What about Danielle or Daniel? Do you know how to reach her…er him?”

  “No. Brenda hired him.”

  “So you never saw him or talked to him after you left California?”

  “No.”

  “What about Brenda?”

  “We talked a couple of times, but I haven’t spoken to her in a few weeks.”

  “She didn’t go to the funeral?”

  “No. Well, she didn’t go the wake. I don’t think she went to the funeral. I never asked.”

  “Get in touch with her. Tell her what’s going on and let her know I’ll be calling her to ask her some questions.”

  “They didn’t murder anyone,” Kenny said. “Do you think they can make a case against them?”

  “I won’t know that until I find out what the autopsy says,” said the lawyer, looking at Arianna. “But audio taping someone without their knowledge is illegal. So if there is a tape, it can be used against you.”

  “I’d like to go with her tomorrow when she gives her statement,” said Kenny. “Is that Okay?”

  “Sure, but I’m the only one who will be allowed in the room with her.”

  “That’s fine. I just want to be there for moral support.”

  Arianna followed Kenny back to his place.

  After making love, they lay in each other arms, glistening with sweat. Their erratic breathing provided the only sound in the room.

  Arianna turned her sweaty back to him, pressing her butt against his thighs. “I’m scared,” she said.

  Kenny turned on his side, wrapping his arms tightly around her. “So am I. I’m afraid of losing you. You need to get rid of that tape.”

  “I know. I’ll do it tomorrow. I’m afraid for my kids.”

  “What about them?”

  “I’m the only parent they’ve got. If I go to jail for this bullshit, what happens to them?”

  “You’re not going to jail.”

  “You just said…”

  “Forget what I said. A temporary lapse. You made some bad choices, but you’re not a murderer. Berger is gonna prove that and everything’s gonna be fine.”

  “From your mouth to God’s ears.”

  “Oh now you believe in God?”

  “I never stopped believing in Him. It’s religion I’ve got a problem with.”

  “Have you been praying?”

  “Not really. But I’m about to start.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “Not guilty, your honor.”

  Arianna spoke the words, but she couldn’t believe they were falling from her mouth.

  How could she – an upstanding citizen and mother who never so much as bounced a check – be charged with voluntary manslaughter?

  Her nerves were dancing off beat underneath a fitted pink and black skirt suit, but her placid façade masked her terror.

  Joshua Berger stood next to her in the crowded Los Angeles courtroom as she responded to the judge’s request for her plea. A week before, she’d fainted in his office after he told her she’d been indicted.

  Kenny caught her as she toppled over her chair and held her until she regained consciousness.

  He wanted to go with her to L.A., but Arianna asked him to stay with Amir and Akilah. She didn’t want to send them to Connecticut with her family. Her mother would insist on knowing what was so important they needed to miss school.

  So Kenny obliged.

  Joshua took the flight with her to the West Coast, assuring her he’d do everything he could to prove her innocence.

  Brenda’s lawyer made the same assurances. She had stood in Arianna’s spot in front of the judge moments before and pleaded not guilty to the same charges.

  It had been a week since the grand jury had indicted them.

  Their own statements to the police were damaging as hell, but they had to tell the truth. Their lawyers had warned them how easy it would be for the cops to verify Janelle’s story.

  Arianna quickly realized all the trouble she went to destroying her hard drive was for nothing.

  The police had the emails she’d sent Janelle bragging about paying back Chauncey.

  Credit card records showed they paid for the room where Chauncey’s body was found.

  Airline records proved Arianna was in Los Angeles the day Chauncey died.

  The only thing they each left out of their stories was making the tape. At the time, they thought the illegal recording was their primary concern.

  Their lawyers were sure Arianna and Brenda wouldn’t be charged. They had self-defense on their side.

  They hadn’t counted on a zealous and savvy prosecutor using the case as his ticket to fame.

  Todd Blaine knew the case had the perfect ingredients – Internet romance, love triangles, and murder – to make headlines.

  He used the revenge plot to convince the grand jury Arianna and Brenda had intent to kill, which was necessary for a voluntary manslaughter charge.

  The autopsy showed Chauncey had died from blunt force trauma to the head. Todd told the grand jury that one or both of them had pushed Chauncey into the table intentionally.

  The judge set bail at two hundred thousand dollars for Arianna because she lived out of state, and one hundred thousand for Brenda.

  The bail bondsman required them to come up with ten percent.

  Arianna used twenty thousand dollars from the life insurance money Michael left.

  Brenda used her house as collateral to come up with hers.

  In the hallway outside the courtroom, a throng of reporters was waiting to pounce.

  Three of them thrust microphones in Arianna’s face and two rushed Brenda. The newspaper reporters stood in the background armed with notebooks and pens while the TV people fired questions like assassins with machine guns.

  “Which one of you actually killed Mr. Cockfield?”

  “Was it both of you?”

  “How long did you know him?”

  “Did you meet online? Which web site?”

  “Were you both sleeping with him at the same time?”

  “Who met him first?”

  Joshua finally interrupted. “Chauncey Cockfield’s death was an accident. Our clients are innocent of the charges and we plan to prove it. We have no further comment.”

  When Todd Blaine trotted into the hallway, several of the reporters scurried over to him.

  “Mr. Blaine, how strong is your case?”

  “Was this a crime of a passion or a calculated murder?”

  Todd was six-feet tall with dark brown hair and movie star good looks. He relished the attention and gave the reporters the sound bites they craved.

  “This is a love triangle with a twist. All of the parties involved met on the Internet, the cyberspace meat market of the new millennium. The victim began relationships with both women and when they discovered his deception – also via the Internet – they sought revenge. When that didn’t go as planned, they made him pay – with his life. That’s all I can say at this time.”

  They fired more questions at him, but the prosecutor turned and walked away with a swift
stride as if he had some place to be in a hurry.

  Arianna rolled her eyes. She knew he had tipped off the media. It was the only thing that would explain the sudden interest in the death of an unknown black man.

  The L. A. Post Standard had only published a brief, eight lines of microscopic type, when the police found his body. Had he been found in a run down motel instead of a four-star downtown chain, he wouldn’t have gotten that much ink.

  Arianna’s lawyer escorted her from the courthouse, shielding her from reporters. Brenda and her lawyer followed.

  Joshua Berger flew back East that evening. He was going to hire an investigator to find Danielle, whom he believed could help their case by corroborating Arianna’s and Brenda’s claim that the setup was intended to embarrass Chauncey, not bring him physical harm.

  Brenda’s associate had told her Danielle left California shortly after her night with Chauncey.

  Arianna spent the night at Brenda’s commiserating. They were the lead story on all the local news stations that evening. Arianna cringed every time she turned the station and saw herself on TV. Brenda cried, saying she would never sell another property.

  Arianna knew it was only the beginning. The story had just the right amount of sleaze to be picked up nationally.

  In the airport the next day, she picked up a local tabloid. The headline read: You’ve Got Bail: Scorned Lovers Charged in Slaying of Internet Lothario.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Arianna’s feet shook underneath the desk as she waited for Larry Parsons to arrive in the office for their meeting.

  It had been three days since her arraignment and she’d become a household name.

  Larry had left a message on her cell phone demanding to know how one of his star reporters could be charged with manslaughter.

  The somber expression on Larry’s face when he opened the door told her all she needed to know.

  “It’s okay, Larry. I understand,” Arianna said. “I came in with my resignation. Once the wires picked up the story, I knew my career as a journalist was over.”

  “I don’t like doing this Singleton, really,” Larry said with pity in his eyes. “But there’s no way our readers are going to trust anything you write again after this.”

  “I know,” said Arianna, handing him her resignation. She knew Larry liked and respected her despite his constant snarling. And she knew he had no choice but to let her go.

  What she hated most were the stares and snickers from the reporters and editors in the newsroom as she packed her things. Many of them disliked her from the moment she’d stepped in the place because she was good and she knew it.

  They perceived her confidence as arrogance. As a black woman in corporate America, she’d gotten used to it and no longer cared.

  She expected the stares and had dressed for the occasion, wearing a black wool pantsuit, black pumps and gold jewelry. She’d gone to her barber that morning for a shape-up and stopped at a department store in the mall and had the make-up artist do her face.

  She always believed a woman should never look as bad as she felt. She felt like crap, but she looked like the shit.

  Joyce Daniels and several of the other black reporters came up to her as she was putting pictures of Michael, Amir and Akilah in a box, telling her they believed in her innocence and offering their support.

  Arianna expressed her gratitude and strutted from the building with a smile on her face, but a hole in her heart. That would be the last day she’d ever step foot into a newspaper office.

  Arianna drove with the kids to Connecticut that afternoon. Blanche had called two dozen times after all hell broke loose demanding answers.

  When Arianna finally got the energy to deal with her mother, Blanche had insisted they come home.

  While she was in California, she’d asked Kenny to take Amir and Akilah to his place in Delaware to keep them from learning the news after the media frenzy. She knew it was only a matter of time before East Coast reporters figured out where she lived and descended on her house.

  The kids would have to learn the truth eventually, so she told them at a rest stop on the way north.

  Akilah was sitting on the passenger side. Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her hands. “Did you really kill somebody, mommy?”

  “No, sweetie,” Arianna said, stroking Akilah’s cheek. “It was an accident. He fell, and I didn’t mean for him to. He was attacking me.”

  “Did you go to the funeral?”

  “Of course not, stupid,” Amir yelled from the back seat, where he liked to stretch out on long drives. “Why would she go to his funeral? Who was this guy, Ma? How come we never met him?”

  “Actually, I did go to the wake, Amir, and don’t call your sister stupid. You never met him because we didn’t date that long and there was no reason for you to.”

  “Then why were you in California with him?” her son asked. “Why was he trying to hurt you?”

  “It’s a long story, honey. The fact is I shouldn’t have gone to California because if I didn’t, none of this would have happened. But I didn’t intentionally kill anyone, that’s what’s important. But for the next few months or so, there will probably be stories about me in the newspaper and on TV. People saying I killed somebody. I don’t want you guys to believe any of it. I would never kill anyone. I love you and I just need for you to trust me.”

  “Are you gonna go to jail, mommy?” Akilah asked.

  “Yeah, what if the judge believes you killed him?” Amir said. “What happens then?”

  “I could go to jail, but I won’t. I have a good lawyer and I know he’s going to prove I’m innocent. I don’t want you guys to worry, okay?”

  Hartford was colder than usual for mid-December and Arianna wanted to leave almost as soon as she arrived.

  She noticed several reporters staking out her mother’s house as she drove up. She dropped off the kids, and then parked the car a block away, covered her face with a scarf and went inside.

  She had hoped her mother would be waiting with a hug and a smile, or at the very least, be sympathetic.

  No such luck.

  Blanche, who minus twenty years and twenty pounds could pass for Arianna’s twin, was pissed about the mess Arianna had gotten herself into. The fact that reporters were harassing her about her daughter only made it worse.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Blanche shouted. “Who ever heard of meeting somebody on a computer? This never would have happened if you weren’t fornicating in the first place. The flesh is weak. That’s why I told you to get your butt to a church when you first moved there.”

  “Going to church wouldn’t have kept me from dating, Ma,” Arianna said, nearly in tears. “The police were nicer to me than you are.”

  “The police didn’t raise you!” Blanche spat out. “They didn’t bring you to church every Sunday. And they don’t expect you to know better. Revenge is mine saith the Lord.”

  “If I hear that again, I will scream,” Arianna hollered. “Just once, Ma, I would like your support instead of your criticism. That Bible of yours also teaches forgiveness, but the only thing you ever talk about is how I’m going to hell if I don’t follow the damn rules!”

  “Don’t you swear at me!” said Blanche. “You ain’t never gonna get that grown.”

  “I’m sorry, but I have enough to deal with without you judging me. Can’t you just love me?”

  “I do love you, dammit. You’re my child.”

  “Forget it, Ma.”

  Arianna stormed out of the house and drove to the first bar she saw, a hole in the wall she normally wouldn’t be caught in dead. She was too mad to care.

  She ordered a shot of tequila and kicked it back like a sailor.

  Almost immediately, she felt tension begin to leave her body. She ordered another.

  Just as she was beginning to relax, a brother in a sweat suit designed by a rap star sat on the stool next to her.

  “Aren’t you that sista w
ho snuffed out the bruh you met on the Internet?” he asked, flashing two gold teeth in the front of his mouth.

  Arianna was not in the mood.

  “You mean you actually read a newspaper?”

  “I saw you on TV,” he said.

  “Figures. Can you just go away, please?”

  “Why you gotta do a brutha like that?”

  “Trust me you don’t want to mess with me right now. I’m a killer, remember?”

  “Damn, girl. No need to get violent. I’m gone.”

  Arianna ordered another shot. After sucking it down, she surveyed the room. Everyone was staring.

  “You’re famous,” said the bartender, a tall sister with a blonde weave and hourglass shaped body. “Kind of a local celebrity.”

  “I’m not sure celebrity is the right word,” Arianna said. “I don’t need this shit. Can you give me my check, please?”

  “Don’t worry. It’s on the house.”

  “I get free liquor because you think I killed somebody?”

  “Hey, you did a lot of sistas a favor puttin that fool out of his misery. That nigga got around. A few of my friends said he emailed them.”

  Arianna shook her head. “This shit is crazy. Thanks for the drinks.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Arianna drove back to Philadelphia the next day. Christmas vacation was a week away, so she let the kids stay. They would make up their schoolwork when they got back.

  Blanche would take good care of them. She had always managed to show them the affection she was incapable of giving her daughter. And Arianna needed the break.

  Kenny was waiting for her when she got home.

  “Your phone’s been ringing off the hook,” he said, greeting her with a kiss.

  “Probably reporters,” Arianna said, throwing her purse on the sofa and plunking herself down beside it. She laid her head on one of the big pillows and kicked off her shoes.

  “I’m not going to answer it for the next fucking year.”

  “How long do you think they’ll hound you?” Kenny asked, sitting next to her.