“Mrs. Sims,” I replied, maintaining a low voice in my most sincere manner, “Paris would be here, but to be quite honest, she’s currently under a doctor’s supervision and heavily medicated. This whole ordeal has traumatized her. I’m not sure if you’re aware of it, but she actually watched Trevor die in her arms.”
“I don’t give a damn about any doctor’s supervision!” she yelled at me. The disturbance caught the attention of half the church, freezing them in place as they stared in our direction. Not what I was trying for. “She should have died too. She should be dead just like my baby is!”
“I know whatever I say won’t be sufficient at this moment, ma’am, but if there is anything we can do, please don’t hesitate to ask.” I handed her husband my card, but she ripped it out of his hand and tore it to pieces.
“You wanna know what you can do? You can give me my son back! Can you do that? Can you give me my son back?”
I paused before answering gently, “No, ma’am, I can’t. Only the Almighty can do—”
“Then what you can do, Mr. Grant, is kiss my ass!”
The councilman raised his hand in a gesture to calm his wife. “What you can do is tell us what your employer’s daughter knows about the night Trevor was murdered,” Councilman Sims uttered.
“She already told the NYPD all that she knows, Councilman, I assure you. We’ve even gone over it repeatedly with her to see if there was something she missed. Believe me, we want these murdering dogs brought to justice as much as you. Given time, I’m sure the police will turn up some leads.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Sims,” a low feminine voice called out, interrupting our exchange.
I whipped my head around in shock, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was Paris! What the ...
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Paris, adorned all in black, with a matching fur and a pillbox hat, wept openly. The way she was dressed, you would swear she was the boy’s widow. What the hell was she doing? This was not what we agreed to.
She stared at Trevor’s parents before shifting her gaze to the casket. She slowly moved in its direction, seemingly oblivious to the other people trying to pay their respects.
“I thought you said she wasn’t coming,” Trevor’s father snapped accusingly.
“I ... I ...” I’ve just been made a fool of is what it looks like.
Although the mother said that she wanted Paris there, now I could see just how socially inappropriate it was. Paris must be out of her friggin’ mind.
“They tried to keep me at home, but ... I had ... to,” Paris answered for me, still staring in the direction of the casket. “Trevor was so sweet to me. He didn’t deserve this. I’m sorry that I didn’t see the thugs who did it, but ... but I was so scared ... and Trevor was so brave, stepping in front of me.” She wiped her eyes, although I didn’t see any tears.
“I can still hear the gunshots over and over in my head. I didn’t know what to do. Thank God Trevor squeezed himself through that window and followed me, otherwise I would have been face-to-face with that gunman by myself. Mr. and Mrs. Sims, Trevor saved my life.” Paris looked like she was about to faint.
Mrs. Sims was becoming more visibly upset by the moment. I could tell her husband was becoming concerned about the effect that Paris’s ramblings were having on her. Then Paris walked over to casket and grabbed Trevor’s face, kissing him passionately.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry,” Paris said between kisses.
“What the hell is she doing?” Mrs. Sims screamed. She clutched her heaving bosom and shook her head.
I was so shocked by Paris’s actions that I couldn’t even speak. Paris had done some crazy shit over the years, but this by far was the craziest.