Ibby shook her head. “She’s lying. T-Bone was still with Birdelia and me.”
“Why would she make it up?” Fannie asked.
Ibby spoke. “She was at the Ebony Lounge when we were there. She tried to flirt with T-Bone, but she was so drunk, she could barely stand up. When we left, we saw her getting into her car. Someone got into the car with her, but it wasn’t T-Bone.”
“But why T-Bone? Why not name the boy she was with?” Fannie asked.
“T-Bone’s been working at the stables over there in Audubon Park, where Miss Annabelle keeps a horse,” Doll offered. “She knows him from there. Maybe she got mixed up, thought she was with him, when it were somebody else.”
“T-Bone couldn’t have done it,” Ibby said. “She’s just saying it to get back at me.”
“Back at you? That’s one heck of a way to get back at you by charging someone else with rape just for spite. I hate to tell you, Queenie, but I don’t think I can do anything for T-Bone with that kind of charge against him, no matter how many phone calls I make. It’s a white girl’s word against a black boy. And to make it worse, she’s not even eighteen. This is serious. I don’t know what I can do except post the bail. Unless—” Fannie stopped short.
“Unless what, Miss Fannie?” Queenie was wringing her hands. “Unless what?”
“Unless we can get her to drop the charges,” Fannie said finally. “That’s the only way.”
“It’d be a cold day in hell before Miss Annabelle gone admit she’s wrong,” Doll said. “She just ain’t that kind of person.”
“Yes, but that’s all we have to go on right now.” Fannie picked her car keys off the hook on the wall near the back door.
“Where you going?” Queenie asked.
“To pay Annabelle a visit,” she said.
Ibby hopped up from the stool. “I’m coming with you.”
“Fine. Let me make a quick phone call first. I think I’ll ask Kennedy to meet us there, in case she does change her mind.”
As they were heading out the door, Doll caught Ibby’s arm. She grabbed her close and hugged her, then whispered, “Have strength in adversity, Miss Ibby. God will show you the right course. Remember that.”
Ibby sat in the front seat of the car, studying her grandmother’s profile as they drove along. She was thinking about everything Queenie had told her the night before, and it made her realize how someone’s life can change in an instant. If Queenie had been at the house the day Muddy came around, he would have gotten his money and left, and Norwood might not have gone off on his boat. She thought about her father, falling and hitting that rock. If it hadn’t been raining that day, would he still be alive? Then she thought about T-Bone, how his life was about to change just because he happened to be at the Ebony Lounge last night when Annabelle Friedrichs was there.
Fannie glanced over and caught Ibby staring at her. “What is it, Ibby? Is there something you want to tell me? Because I don’t want any surprises when we get there.”
“No, ma’am, just thinking.”
“About what, dear?”
“About life, I guess.”
Ibby was wondering, was it possible to change a person’s fate? As they pulled up to the Friedrichses’ apartment on Magazine Street, she figured she was about to find out.
Kennedy was already there, leaning up against his squad car, waiting for them. “Good day, Miss Fannie.” He tipped his cap.
“Good day to you, Kennedy,” she said. “Thanks for meeting me here.”
“I understand you may have information that contradicts the statement Miss Friedrichs gave at the station this morning,” he said.
“Between you and me, Kennedy, I’d like to forget about this whole mess,” Fannie said as she untied the scarf from her head and stuffed it into her pocketbook.
“How do you propose to do that?” he asked.
“By getting little Miss Friedrichs to see the error of her ways and drop any charges she may be planning to make against T-Bone,” Fannie said as they walked up the front walk.
Kennedy didn’t look very optimistic.
“Would you mind staying just outside the door, in case we need you?” Fannie asked.
“Sure thing.” He stood off to the side as she rang the bell.
The door opened just a crack. When Honey Friedrichs saw Fannie, she tried to slam the door, but Fannie stuck her foot against the jamb.
“What do you want?” Honey demanded.
“I want to talk to Annabelle.” Fannie now had her hand on the door, fighting with Honey, as she tried to open it.
“Go away. She has nothing to say to you.” Honey tried to kick Fannie’s foot from the threshold.
“I have evidence that she doesn’t quite have her facts straight. Before we go to the police and charge her with perjury, I thought she’d like to hear what we have to say. Otherwise we’ll be heading down to the police station with Commander Kennedy here.”
Fannie nodded in his direction. He stepped forward so Honey could see him.