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Authors: Michelle Janine Robinson

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BOOK: On the Other Side
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“Yes, it is. We've called your husband. He should be here soon.”

“You called my husband?”

“Yes. The police found your pocketbook. There was a card in your wallet that listed your husband as the person to call in case of emergency.”

Damita was surprised to see how distraught Neal was when he arrived.

“Baby, what happened? Who did this to you?”

Two young, white police officers were there, waiting to ask Damita some questions.

“Mr. Westman, when was the last time you spoke to your wife?”

“I spoke to her this morning.”

“Where does she work?”

“She works at the World Trade Center.”

“Do you have any idea what she was doing in the Bronx?”

“I have no idea at all. What happened?” Neal asked.

“The details are pretty fuzzy. Your wife was unconscious and naked when she was found. We believe she may have been attacked. We would like to question her now while the details are still fresh in her memory.”

“Fresh? She has a concussion. She's not going to be able to remember much in this condition.”

“You'd be surprised how much someone can remember immediately after a crime is committed, even with a concussion.”

“Mrs. Westman. . .”

“Ms. Whitmore,” Damita said.

“Okay, Ms. Whitmore. Can you tell us what happened?”

Damita's face appeared to be trying very hard to concentrate and remember. “They shoved me in the van and then drove me somewhere. They raped me!”

Damita started to cry.

“Do you remember anything about the van?” the officer asked.

“It was a light color, maybe white.”

“Did you see the license plate?”

“No. It was too fast.”

“What about afterwards?”

“I didn't see anything.”

“You said they? How many were there?”

“There was the driver and three men in the back.”

“Did you recognize anyone?”

“They were wearing masks, but his voice—”

“You recognized someone's voice?”

“Yes. I may have heard it before.”

Damita reached up to touch her head. She winced when her fingers found the spot where her head was injured.

“Are you okay? Should I get the doctor?” Neal asked.

“No, I'm fine.”

“You said the voice sounded familiar,” the officer continued.

Neal interrupted. “That's enough. Can't you see my wife is in pain? She's got a concussion and she needs her rest.”

“Okay. We will need to talk to Ms. Whitmore again. We'll stop by tomorrow.”

Once out of earshot, one of the officers spoke.

“Did you notice that her husband never reacted when I mentioned she was found naked and that she may have been attacked. Most husbands would be outraged at the thought of their wife being raped.”

“Maybe he was too upset or maybe it didn't register what you meant by attacked,” the other officer offered.

“Sure, maybe. They both definitely need to be questioned again.”

“There's always tomorrow,” his partner added.

All Damita wanted was to sleep and to forget. She was out again and Neal sat down in a chair next to her bed. His face was etched with concern and the nurse that was on duty when Damita arrived did her best to reassure him.

“She'll be fine, Mr. Westman. She has a concussion and she'll probably need to rest for a few days, but she may even be released tomorrow. They want to keep her overnight for observation. That's customary when there's a head injury. It's so late. You can go home. I'm here all night. I'll keep a close eye on her.”

“Can I stay a little longer?” he asked.

“Sure, you can. I hate to bother you, but you look so familiar. Have I seen you somewhere before?” the nurse asked.

“My company and I were featured in
Black Enterprise
magazine last year.”

“I knew you looked familiar!” she responded excitedly.

Five minutes later, the nurse was back with a pillow, blanket and another chair.

The nurse grinned at Neal. “It's not the most comfortable, but if you put the two chairs together, you can at least try to get some sleep.”

“Thank you.”

“It's my pleasure, Mr. Westman.”

•  •  •

The next morning Damita was released from the hospital. Along with the concussion, Damita also had a sprained ankle. One of the attendants in the hospital wheeled her to the exit in a wheelchair. Instead of the car service and driver Neal often used, he pulled up driving his own car.

“Did you call my mother?” Damita asked.

“Yes. She's meeting you at the apartment.”

“She didn't come to the hospital?”

“I didn't think it made sense to call her last night. It was so late. I called her this morning and told her they were releasing you.”

As they drove, Damita realized they weren't headed in the direction of Carmella's apartment.

Damita looked through the window uncomfortably. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“I thought it best that you stay at our apartment, under the
circumstances. We have much more room. I can have the nurse, Florence, come back and if you like, your mother can stay as well, if that makes you more comfortable.”

“Okay,” Damita responded.

Once in the apartment, Damita looked around and couldn't help but realize it no longer felt like home. She had felt nothing but pain ever since she had come to this place. The truth was it had never been home. Yet, here she was, back again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Her mother was at the door minutes after they arrived. She grabbed Damita and hugged her immediately.

Karen's face looked worried. “Oh, baby. I'm so sorry this happened to you.”

“Neal told you everything?”

“Yes, baby, he told me everything.”

Damita looked at her mother and tears began to well up in her eyes.

Karen looked around the apartment with disdain. “It's okay, baby. Mama is here. Are you sure you're going to be okay in this place? You should come home with me.”

“I'm already here and there's a nurse coming. Also, this place has a lot more room if the nurse or anyone else wants to stay overnight.”

“Can't the nurse come to my place just as easily? I've got some room.”

“I'll stay with you once my ankle is better,” Damita whispered in her mother's ear.

“Make sure you do that,” her mother whispered back.

“Is anyone hungry?” Neal asked.

“I'm not hungry,” Damita answered.

“Me neither,” her mother said, rolling her eyes.

“Mom, please.”

“Okay.”

“Mom, will you do me a favor?”

“Sure, anything you need.”

“Would you call Mr. Underhill? He likes you and hopefully that will help keep me in his good graces, at least for a while.”

Karen forced a smile. “Honey, don't worry. Everything is going to be fine. Your job is going to be fine. Mr. Underhill may like me, but that's only because I'm your mother. He knows he hit the jackpot when that firm got you. Besides, it's not like you're taking a vacation, something very serious just happened.

Damita shifted her eyes downward with embarrassment. “Oh, Mom, please don't tell him what happened. I would be mortified if everyone in the office was looking at me and feeling sorry for the poor girl that got raped.”

“Honey, I will make sure that Mr. Underhill knows he should be discreet, but your boss does need to know what happened. I will call him as soon as I leave here, okay. Trust me.”

“Of course I trust you.”

Karen glanced in Neal's direction with contempt. “I'm going to leave now before I say something we'll all regret. I wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay.”

“Okay, Mom. I understand.”

Before Karen walked out the door, she caught a glimpse of Neal's smug expression. She turned around and leaned in closely to Damita and whispered in her ear.

“Baby, is there any chance he had something to do with this?”

Damita stared at her mother, first in disbelief, then in fear.

She spent the first couple of days resting. Although the nurse was available to watch over Damita, Neal never left the house. He prepared all her meals and would not leave her side.

After two days of Neal telling the police Damita was not well enough to speak to them, they eventually showed up at his door and gave him no other choice. It was not the same two officers at the hospital, but two detectives. Their names were Detective O'Flannery and Detective Alberti. Detective O'Flannery was tall with light brown hair and Detective Alberti was medium height with black hair.

Detective Alberti gave Neal the once over and spoke without even the hint of a smile. “Mr. Westman, I understand you've been less than cooperative with the police. I need you to know that we do intend to speak with Ms. Whitmore
today
whether you like it or not.”

“Of course. I didn't feel Damita was ready until now. Come in,” Neal said.

“Hello, Ms. Whitmore. We are so sorry to bother you. However, we want to find the people who did this. Do you mind if we ask you some more questions?”

“I'm Detective Alberti and this is my partner, Detective O'Flannery.”

“Hello, Ma'am,” Detective O'Flannery said.

Neal noticed a shift in Detective Alberti's demeanor when talking to Damita. He actually smiled.

Damita sat up in the bed and smoothed back her hair. “Ma'am? Do I look that old? And, no, I don't mind at all answering your questions. I just don't think I know very much.”

“Sometimes a victim or a witness may know something that they are not even aware is important,” O'Flannery offered.

“I understand,” Damita said.

“Is there anyone that you know of that might want to hurt you in any way?” Alberti asked.

“Uh, I. . . No, there's no one. I don't have any enemies.”

The detectives glanced at one another. “Are you sure?” added O'Flannery.

“Yes.”

“You're an investment banker, is that correct?” O'Flannery asked.

“Yes, I am.”

“Is there a chance this has anything to do with your job? Could it be an unhappy client?” said Alberti.

“My firm deals with large corporations. I'm sure this doesn't have anything to do with my work.”

“Where were you going when you left work?” Alberti asked.

“I was going to a store near Fifty-Ninth Street, in Midtown.

“After you got off the subway, what direction did you walk in?” O'Flannery asked.

“I walked from Lexington Avenue to First Avenue, because that's where the store is. I was under the overpass and it felt like someone was following me but I figured once I cleared the overpass I would be okay because there were so many people on the street. As soon as I was about to cross the street, the van pulled up in front of me and someone pushed me from behind. He pushed me and the others pulled me in. I tried to fight but I couldn't get away.”

“It wasn't your fault. It would have been next to impossible to fight off four men on your own,” said O'Flannery.

“Do you think there's a chance that they'll be caught?”

“You've given us more information than you may think and even though it appears most of them used condoms, the fourth man did not. We're hoping that will go a long way to help us find the animals that did this,” Alberti said reassuringly.

“Thank you,” Damita said.

“Thank you, Ms. Whitmore. You've been more helpful than you know,” O'Flannery responded.

“If we have more questions, should we reach out to you here or at work?” said Alberti.

“Probably. . .uh, you can reach me here.”

“Are you sure?” Alberti asked.

“I've been staying with a friend of mine, Carmella.”

“I don't understand, Ms. Whitmore. Isn't this where you live?”

“My husband and I are separated.”

Once outside the detectives finally spoke to one another. “I'd bet my pension the husband had something to do with this,” said Alberti.

“Do you really think a husband could engineer something so horrible to do to his own wife?” O'Flannery asked.

“I've seen far worse since I've been on the force.”

“That's so true,” O'Flannery agreed.

•  •  •

In less than a week, Damita was feeling better. Her ankle was fine and the doctor thought she would be okay to return to work. Carmella and her mother had been frequent visitors since she had gotten out of the hospital, not only because they were concerned about what had happened to her, but also because they didn't trust Neal. Damita called both Carmella and her mother and asked them to come by one afternoon when Neal was out.

Karen was smiling. “It's nice to see you walking around,” her mother said.

“Are you ready to come back to my place? I don't think it's a good idea for you to stay here much longer. He might get the wrong idea,” Carmella said, with contempt.

“I agree with you,” Damita said.

“Now that's my smart daughter talking. If you're not ready to find a place and you want to give Carmella a break you can always come back home.”

“Carmella, my mother's right. I'm going to stay with her and give you a chance to have your apartment back.”

Carmella frowned. “I don't need my apartment back. You weren't in my way. In fact, I liked having you there.”

Damita smiled. “That's sweet, but you and Derrick need your privacy.” She turned to her mother. “I'll stay with you, Mom, and I'll start looking for my own place. I also need to find a lawyer. I'm going to file for divorce. It shouldn't be too difficult. I have my own money and I don't want anything from Neal, so hopefully it will be quick and easy.”

BOOK: On the Other Side
5.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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