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The Aftermath
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Dear Reader:
Keeping up with the Joneses is not always what it seems. Sometimes it can be mysterious involving a web of intrigue and suspense. Such is the case with The Aftermath, the sequel to The Joneses, named by Library Journal as one of the best books of 2014.
While continuing to operate the Louisiana-based RJ Jones Funeral Home, family members turn their focus on supporting patriarch Royce, who’s imprisoned for the murder of his former best friend, Jason Milton, a businessman who later proved to be envious. Once viewed as the pillar of the community, Royce is now under the scrutiny of the public eye.
His wife, Lexi, and their children, Charity, Hope and Lovie, become relentless sleuths in their mission to prove Royce’s innocence. Readers will experience a roller-coaster ride through prison visits and evidence collection that ends with a startling revelation. Secrets are unlocked and scandal is exposed at each turn in this Southern whodunit.
As always, thanks for the love and support shown to myself and the authors that I publish under Strebor Books. We appreciate each and every one of you and will continue to strive to bring you cutting-edge, exciting books in the future. For more information, please join my Facebook page @AuthorZane, Twitter @AuthorZane, and visit me at Eroticanoir.com.
Blessings,
Publisher
Strebor Books
www.simonandschuster.com
CHAPTER 1
Lexi
“Royce Jones, you’ve been found guilty of first-degree murder and sentenced to death under the state of Louisiana laws,” the Shreveport, Louisiana judge said.
“Nooo!” I stood up to reach for my husband, Royce, but my knees buckled and I fell on the floor.
As soon as my body hit the floor, I woke up from my nightmare. I had fallen off the couch to the floor.
I guess I shouldn’t have watched the news before drifting off to sleep. The media was having a field day with my husband’s upcoming trial. How quickly people turn on you when you’re faced with some adversities. Prior to Royce’s arrest two months ago, people were singing Royce’s praises, but now people were acting like they believe he killed Jason Milton. Jason was Royce’s former best friend and according to news reports, he was also a prominent Shreveport businessman.
Royce had been the pillar of the community for the majority of his adult life, so I don’t know why they would think he wasn’t the same man they’d always known.
When Royce first got arrested for the murder of Jason, I wanted to crawl under the bed and not come out, but I couldn’t. Royce needed me. My kids needed me. I had to be strong for Charity, Hope and Lovie. We had to pull together because the road ahead of us was rocky.
I eyed myself in the mirror one last time. I used extra makeup, hoping to hide the bags under my eyes from crying and lack of sleep. When I visited Royce, he needed to see a woman of strength. He needed to see in spite of the drama, I was still holding up. I didn’t want him to see the strain of the situation on my face.
I eased my hand over my designer dress. I clasped on the pearls he’d once given me for an anniversary. I slipped on my heels and headed straight to the Caddo Correctional Center on the other side of Shreveport to visit my husband.
I was on autopilot because I barely remembered the drive from our house to the jail. I still didn’t know why they couldn’t have kept Royce at the city jail. I hated having to come here. I felt like I was having heart palpitations prior to each visit.
The officer at the front desk seemed to have an attitude every time I checked in at the visitors’ window to see Royce. If she didn’t like her job, she should’ve gotten another one. It was difficult enough to come see your loved one locked up; neither I nor any of the other people should’ve had to deal with her funky attitude.
I glanced around the room while I waited on Royce’s name to be called. The visitation waiting room was filled with people of all races and economic backgrounds. Patience wasn’t one of my strong points so I was glad when an officer called Royce’s name.
I did a few breathing exercises as I walked down the long hallway into cellblock C. I heard the clicks of the locks unlock and opened the door. There on the other side of the glass was my king, Royce, in a bright orange jumpsuit.
He watched me as I walked to the chair sitting opposite from his. Our hands went up to the glass. Unable to feel each other’s hand because of the glass separating us, he picked up the phone on his side and I did the same. I wiped the black handle on my pants; I didn’t know who had their ear up to the phone before me.
“Lexi, Baby, I’m so glad to see you,” Royce said.
Something in the way he said it sent chills down my spine. I had to be strong.
“I’m glad to see you, too. I wish I could hug you.” I ran my hand through my hair. I normally wore my hair shorter, but since Royce’s arrest, I’d let my hair grow out.
“Me, too,” he said.
“Baby, you’re looking thin,” was the next thing that blurted out of my mouth.
Royce wasn’t a big man, but I was still used to seeing him with more weight on his six-foot-one frame.
“Lexi, the food isn’t the greatest in here. I’m fine. I needed to lose some weight anyway. How are you? How are the kids?”
“I’m fine. I’ve just been worried about you.”
“And the kids?” he asked again.
“They’re hanging in there. You would be proud of Lovie. He’s running things down at the funeral home so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“What about you? I can tell you’re not sleeping.”
“Royce, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“Easier said than done.”
“The police are convinced that you murdered Jason. We know for a fact you didn’t.”
“Lexi, I’ve prayed about this. The truth will come out and then I will be a free man.”
“It hasn’t. You’re not hearing what I’m hearing. If we leave it up to the police, they will have you on death row.”
“It’s not going to get to that.”
Royce must have lost his mind while up in the prison. His delusional behavior about his situation was irking me.
“Royce, I’ve talked to our lawyers. They want you to plea bargain. They want you to admit to something you didn’t do and get the charges down to second degree. Do you really want to spend years in prison? And with your age, it might as well be a death sentence because with as much time they will give you, you’ll die in prison before you get out.” My voice shook as I spoke.
“Calm down, baby. I’m trying to be optimistic.”
“I understand that, but I have to be realistic. That’s why I’m going to do my own investigation. I’m going to find out what really happened to Jason because dear, right now, all evidence points toward you. Thinking about killing someone and actually doing it are two different things. And I refuse to have you spend the rest of your life in prison for a crime you did not do.”
Life is an illusion. One’s perception determines their reception of the truth. I chose to believe that my husband, Royce Jones, will be proven innocent of the crime he’s been accused of. With every breath I take, I will make sure of it.
CHAPTER 2
Royce
Once Lexi g
ot an idea in her head to do something, she would not stop until she accomplished her goal. The reality of the situation was whoever killed Jason was still out there and I did not want her or my kids in harm’s way. I would rather spend the rest of my days in jail if it would protect them from danger.
Seeing how outraged she was about my situation tugged at my heart.
“Lexi, calm down. You wanting to help mean the world to me, but you need to stay out of it.”
“Stay out of it. How can I, Royce? If I sat back and did nothing, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
“Promise me, you will be careful. Can you at least talk to Lovie about it? I will feel better if you let Lovie handle this. He knows people. He may be able to find out what happened. Or even talk to Charity’s cop friend about it. Maybe he can help.”
“I will talk to Lovie, but I don’t trust the police right now, so talking to Charity’s friend, well, let’s just say I’ll have to think long and hard on that before I do.”
One of the guards walked up and tapped me on the shoulder.
I turned and looked back at Lexi. “Baby, time’s up.”
“Already? It seems like I just got here.”
“I know. I’ll see you next week,” I said.
“I love you, Royce. I left a lot of money downstairs for you so please buy you something. In the past I complained about you eating junk food, but baby, you need to eat something.”
“I’m eating,” I assured her. “Take care of yourself.”
“You too,” Lexi replied.
“Baby, they called my name. I got to go. I love you,” I said.
“I love you too.”
Lexi blew me a kiss. I smiled. I got up and turned to walk away; I couldn’t stand to see her walk away. I walked back to my cell. Normally, inmates had to share cells but because some of the guards knew me, or my family, they made sure I had a cell to myself.
I lay down on the bottom bunk and closed my eyes while tears crept out from the crevices of my lids. Even the strongest of men would cry under these circumstances. I tried to be strong for Lexi, but I really had no hope of ever getting out.
I also had spoken to our attorneys and the evidence they had against me would make any jury convict me. If I were on the jury, based on evidence alone, I would’ve convicted myself.
A part of me hoped Lexi wouldn’t listen to me and would try to find out who really killed Jason. But that was selfish; the real killer seemed to have no empathy. They shot and killed Jason and then burned down his house to dispose of his body. If they did that, I didn’t want to imagine what they would try to do to Lexi or the kids if they felt their identity would be exposed.
I’d had nothing but time on my hands. I sometimes felt like a caged animal. It could get cold and lonely behind those prison walls. I lay on the hard bed and stared at the ceiling. I closed my eyes as the vision of Lexi filled my thoughts. Lexi was a few inches shorter than me. Her feisty attitude was what originally attracted her to me.
I met her when Dad hired her to work at our family business, the RJ Jones Funeral Home. For me, it was love at first sight. Sure, I’d made mistakes along the way, but nothing could replace the love I had for Lexi.
One thought led to another. Since being locked up, my mind replayed my life over and over again. I’d replayed every event...every decision...and every scene in my life. I’d thought about the poor decisions I’d made that led me to this point. I thought about my friendship with Jason.
If I were being honest with myself, I could now see Jason for what he truly was. He was always looking for a get-rich scheme. He didn’t always treat people fairly. Some of his business practices weren’t always on the up and up. But none of those things ever affected our relationship; or so I thought.
The saying everybody wanted to be like the Joneses might not be true in all instances, but as I thought back over things, Jason’s biggest problem was he wanted to be like me: Royce Jones.
Although, as long as I could remember my family had always had money; my father and grandfather taught me responsibility. I didn’t get a free ride because I was a Jones. I had to work and earn my allowance.
I was never flashy, but I did like nice things and because I worked hard, I didn’t see anything wrong for having them. I worked hard and played hard. But whatever I had, I always freely shared with Jason.
I wish I would’ve recognized that Jason had been envious of me before now. Maybe if I had, I wouldn’t have invited him into my home; had him around my wife, and later around my kids.
I trusted him like a brother, but yet he betrayed me by sleeping with Lexi and then later with my eighteen-year-old daughter. No, I didn’t kill Jason, but I was guilty of wanting to wrap my hands around his neck with the end result of me strangling the life out of him.
One of the guards came to my cell. “You have a visitor.”
“I already had a visitor for today,” I stated.
“It’s your attorney,” the guard said.
I left the jail cell and walked behind the prison guard. He opened up the door to a conference room where they allowed prisoners to speak one on one with their attorneys.
“Royce, how are you?” Mitch asked.
“Waiting to hear some good news from you,” I responded, as I sat down across from him.
“I wish I had something good to tell you. The DA has sent another plea deal. For your confession, they are willing to give you twenty years.”
“I’m fifty years old so that means I would be seventy when I get out. No. I won’t sign that.”
“But you know if we take this to court, you could get more time. It’s possible you might get sentenced to death.”
“I’m innocent. I did not kill anyone. Why aren’t the police out there trying to find the real killer?”
The attorney stared me in the eyes. “Because in their eyes, you are the real killer.”
I was trying my best not to feel defeated. I remained silent.
The attorney slipped a big brown envelope to me. “I’m going to leave you with some things they’ve discovered during their investigation. Read over them. Then tell me, how I can help you.”
My attorney left me alone in the room staring at the brown envelope.
CHAPTER 3
Charity
“I just came back from seeing your daddy,” Mom said as we sat across from each other at my kitchen table in the condo my parents used to finance. I could afford to take care of the bills myself, now that my event planning business had been bringing in income.
“How is he doing? I know I should go see him, but I can’t bear to see him behind bars,” I said.
“Charity, do you think I like seeing Royce like that? No, I don’t, but I go see him so he knows that he’s not going through this alone. He needs to see you. He wants to see you.”
I’d written Dad but after seeing him a few times in handcuffs, it had left me emotionally depleted. I hadn’t seen him face-to-face in over two weeks. I realized I was being selfish, but it was hard. It was difficult seeing him in that situation.
“Okay, I’ll go,” I finally broke down and said.
“Good. Well, you have to wait until next week now. We can go together.”
“Fine.”
“And Charity?”
“Ma’am,” I responded.
“Don’t flake out on me. In fact, I’ll come pick you up to make sure you’ll be there.”
I stood and poured us each a glass of orange juice.
Mom looked at hers. “I was hoping for something a little stronger.”
I retrieved a bottle of vodka from the cabinet and poured some in her glass.
She nursed it. “Now this is more like it.”
I normally didn’t drink around her, but as stressed out as I was, I needed a drink myself. I poured some vodka into my glass, st
irred it with my juice and took a sip.
“What did Dad say about his case? Are they going to let him out now that they know he didn’t kill Uncle Jason?”
“Dear, this is why I’m here. I’m going to need you and your sister’s and brother’s help. The police are convinced that Royce killed Jason.”
“So what are you saying?”
“They aren’t looking to find his real killer so it’s up to us to find out who actually did it.”
“Are you serious? They really think Dad did this. Oh, my goodness!” I felt myself having a panic attack.
“Charity, calm down.” Mom reached across the table and placed her hand over mine.
I felt my breathing ease up some.
“Mom, Dad can’t go to prison. What will we do?”
She laughed. I didn’t see anything funny. She responded, “Dear, you are your mother’s child. I thought I was dramatic, but baby girl, you got me beat.”
“Mom, I’m not trying to be dramatic. This is serious. If we don’t do something, he’s going to be sent to Angola. We can’t let this happen. He’s innocent and the police are not doing their damn job.”
“I’m going to let you slide with cursing around me, but watch your tone, young lady.”
“Mom, tell me what I need to do. We need to call a family meeting. We’ve got to get Dad out of there.”
“You’re right. I want you to tell Hope to meet me at the house tonight around seven. I’ve already texted Lovie to meet us there around that time as well. What have I always stressed to you?”
“We’re Joneses and together we’ll get through anything,” I replied.
“Exactly. So put your big-girl panties on. Put your thinking cap on and come tonight and be prepared to strategize.”
Mom drank the rest of her drink. “I need another drink, but since I have to drive home, I’ll wait until I get home before fixing me another.”
“I’m worried about you. You’re in that big house all by yourself. I noticed you’re always drinking, but I rarely see you eat anything.”