God Only Knows by Xavier Knight

Author:Xavier Knight [Knight, Xavier]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: FIC000000, General Fiction
ISBN: 9780446582391
Publisher: Grand Central
Published: 2009-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

21

Hey, Doc,” Peter Whitlock said as Maxwell approached his police station desk. Standing, he shot a hand forward, shaking vigorously and locking eyes. “My mother will be thrilled that we’ve finally talked.”

“Your mother keeps my clinic afloat, Detective,” Maxwell replied, smiling easily as he withdrew from the handshake. “With all she’s done for me, I had to honor her request that we speak.” Sliding his hands back into his cashmere overcoat, he glanced around the room as he asked, “Where did you want to grab a bite?”

Stepping back to his desk and grabbing a ring of keys, Whitlock smirked visibly. “Oh, yeah, about that. Turns out I’m really pressed for time, Doc. You mind if we just grab a free room down the hall here?”

“Uh —okay.” Medical doctor or not, shared heir to a multimillion-dollar fortune or not, Maxwell was still a black man. “Hanging out” in a police station would never pass for his idea of fun.

“Come on,” Whitlock said, walking jauntily and gesturing over his shoulder. “I’m sure there’s a free interrogation room.”

Standing at the threshold of the small, all-concrete room the detective selected, Maxwell cleared his throat. His internal radar told him he was matching wits with exactly the type of person he dreaded —a white “brother” full of both race and class-based resentment. Is that what it takes to get us on equal footing, Detective? Make me feel like I’m one of the criminals or innocents you badger every day?

Because this was Edna’s son, though, Maxwell left the thoughts unspoken. Following behind Whitlock, he pointed nonchalantly toward one of the low metal chairs before them. “Guess this one’s mine?”

“Whichever you find more comfy,” Whitlock replied, chuckling. Taking the other seat, he looked at Maxwell across the table separating them. “So what’s on your mind? Or should I say, what’s on my mother’s mind, at least where I’m concerned?”

“Well,” Maxwell said, his elbows on the table, his eyes searching Whitlock’s, “your mother is concerned that there may be other things going on in your life that explain your obsession with Eddie’s case. Is everything okay with your health, Pete?”

“Back off,” Whitlock replied, eyes smiling. “You’re talking to a man who respects your profession. I get my annual checkup, I watch my cholesterol, you name it. I’m good.”

“Okay.” Maxwell stood, happy to reverse the dynamic for Whitlock. “Now don’t take offense, but your mother’s concerned with how you’re handling your divorce and the burden of raising your son with limited custody. Is she off-base?”

The light in the detective’s eyes faded suddenly. “You have children, Doc?”

Caught off-guard, Maxwell stumbled his way into an answer. “Uh, no. Not sure I get the point?”

“If you had children,” Whitlock continued, “you’d know, or at least be able to imagine, how tough it is being in your kid’s life when his mother hates you. It’s no picnic.” Whitlock stood suddenly, his fingers fidgety. “Man, I need a cigarette. Let’s move this along.”

Still reeling from the impact of Whitlock’s semi-Oprah moment, Maxwell tried to focus.

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