Arrowheart: Maxwell by Erosa Knowles

Author:Erosa Knowles [Knowles, Erosa]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2021-11-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Because of delays and missed connections, Max returned to South Carolina late Monday evening. Giles called with the name and location of Larry Brown, Nana’s second husband, or as his mom called him, ‘Dumbass.’

He met up with Giles this morning at the hotel to go meet the man. Suppressing a yawn, Max stared at the passing scenery while soft music played in the background.

“Are you dating Reyna?”

The question was so out of the blue, Max stared at Giles’ profile several moments before answering. “In all honesty, I don’t know. She’s smart, gorgeous, kind, the real deal. But I’ve got a lot of baggage and live in another state. We talked briefly last night. I hope to see her this evening.”

“She’s with Ms. Vee tonight.”

Max frowned and caught himself. “Didn’t know that.”

“You’re angry?”

“What? No. I just… I missed her and want to see her again. Spend time with her.”

For several minutes, neither spoke.

“You’re different.”

Max wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

“But if you hurt her. Make her cry. I’ll hurt you.” The matter-of-factly spoken words held a promise.

“I would never hurt her on purpose.”

Giles nodded. “Make sure she knows.”

They turned off the main road down another in need of re-pavement. With each bump, Max wondered what type of man Brown had become over the years. Had he remarried? Have kids? A good job? Small brick homes line one side of the road. The other side held crops moving slightly with the wind.

Giles turned into a driveway. Cars in various states of repair littered the back yard and side of the house. An old man, wearing thick glasses, watched them. When they stopped, he wiped his hand with a rag while walking toward them.

“Larry Brown?” Max asked.

“Yeah.”

Max stepped out of the car.

Brown held up his hand. “I don’t work on new cars like that. They’s require a computer and all kinds of things I can’t get hold of. Not sure I’d know what to do with’em if I had the computer.” He chuckled.

Wrinkles lined his dark face. Short patches of white hair encircled his scalp. Brown wasn’t tall, under 5’10, with a wiry build. If the scars on his face, arm, and chest were any sign, life hadn’t been good to this man.

“Understood.” Max extended his hand. “I’m Maxwell Kitts and just want to ask you a few questions.”

Brown frowned after shaking Max’s hand and glanced at Giles, who remained in the car. “Alright. Help you if I can.”

“I’m sure you can. My mother, Larita Kitts, Carolyn’s daughter, was told by Harrison Wilkes you met him at Johnson’s Farm one night.”

Brown’s face shuttered. The friendly light left his eyes, replaced by dark, cold marbles.

“You told him my mom took the money from his father and left town. Is that true?”

“I told him what I was told.”

Max’s heart fell. A part of him hoped Harrison lied.

“Who told you to tell him that?” Max pushed.

“Ask Carolyn.”

“Can’t. We buried her recently.”

Brown’s eyebrow rose. “Carolyn’s dead? When? How?”

Max shared what he knew of his Nana’s death.

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