CHAPTER ONE
PEACE OF ME-EXCERPT
Desiree Monaya Potts
Age: 17
Born: November 8, 1991
Missing since: October 12, 2006
Flint, MI
It took all of thirteen seconds for me to recognize Desiree on the flyer. In that amount of time, I realized her slender, dark brown face was also in my condo. Her picture was stashed away in a metal box. It was amongst other images of young girls. Photos with no name or identity. The pictures were taken of children with gleeful smiles, dressed in just enough clothing to pass as sweet and innocent. They were photos that my ex-husband, Khalil, had cherished. A sick joy realized by only him until right before he went to prison three years ago for molesting our daughter.
An irritated sigh escaped my lips. I had been unquestionably naive about Khalil; about who he was, what he was. The pictures were found in a box that I would have never known existed if a ficus tree in our old house had not gotten knocked over after the sale of the property. It was kicked over by my son, Caleb, as he tried to squeeze past two men hauling an armoire through a narrow doorway. Another surprise left behind by the man I married. How ironic that Khalil would place his dirt amongst dirt.
His choice for a hiding place had made me shudder. I remembered how my heart beat a tap dance against my ribcage on that day I picked the ficus plant up off the floor. I remembered my shock as I removed the metal box from the broken clay pot. I had anxiety before I knew what the contents were.
My dear ex-husband with his hideous secrets. Who would have thought that underneath the facade of that sensual man would be such a perverted mind? That he was nicely dressed up on the outside in polo shirts dashed in Tabarome Creed cologne while his inside reeked of a disgusting nature.
Khalil, the ever faithful husband and adoring father, who had women in our church congregation whispering that they wished their spouses were more like mine. Before I knew what kind of man I married, I proudly accepted every compliment. I had loved and trusted my husband unconditionally. I used to glow just looking at him. His unassuming, sweet personality and handsome appearance made it easy for his treasures to stay hidden. Khalil made it easy for me to be clueless. Heck, he had everybody fooled. His lies flowed like fluid from his lips constantly and consistently deceiving. And I must admit that he mastered his disguise of ordinary. But...Khalil was anything but ordinary.
Desiree's picture and that collection of other photos, were part of his sickness. At least that is what I tried to convince myself. That I hoped would lessen the pain, humiliation and anger. There were even some days that I could acknowledge Khalil's deeds as a disease. I prayed for some kind of healing of the man I once loved. Only God could deliver someone from that level of insanity. Then there were some days that I could not. Pedophilia is what Kaleia's therapist called it when I had my daughter in counseling. I thought we could simply make the problems go away. As if saying that word ‘Pedophilia’ would lessen the damage done. As if I'd ever forget how he turned our world upside down.
An icy blast coursed down my vertebrae, rattled my tail bone like a debilitating frostbite from being pushed head first into the Antarctic Ocean. Abruptly, I tried to shake it off. I buttoned the collar of my wool coat, rubbed my gloved hands together, but the inside of me was chilled.
Caught in a daydream that felt as raw as the frigid early April breeze, I took one glove off and brushed my fingers against the cold glass window. The ends of the picture were frayed where the tape held them in place. The flyer had been up for quite some time. The ebony-toned teenager with a crescent moon scar above the right eyebrow had a smile adorning her thin face, a grin peeking upward to high cheekbones. No cares or concerns. Her eyes were as bright as her smile and both embodied a carefree-ness that only a child could have. Should have.
“See, I knew that I had money on my card. That little clerk didn't know what she was doing. Trying to act like something was wrong with my credit. Pul-lease.” My identical twin sister, Alicia's, irritation cut into my thoughts.
I glanced at her, blinked twice, as she stomped toward me while zipping up her purse. Physically, Alicia looked exactly like me. From our caramel toned skin to our chocolate dipped almond- shaped eyes to our slender figures, we matched. But our personalities were as different as tropical punch Kool-Aid and Barolo red wine.
Alicia and I had been at the shopping plaza picking up items for both our daughters' sweet sixteen party planned the next weekend. Her debit card had denied. An obviously overworked clerk with an attitude swiped the card three times. I had noticed the smug twitch of the clerk's lips when it declined and the embarrassment on Alicia's face.
I saw the fury coming. My sister often snapped easily, especially when tested or humiliated, which seemed to be both at the time. She nearly had a full blown fit before I offered to pay for the party decorations. Public scenes didn’t bother Alicia, but they were three touches beyond tolerable for me. I had suggested we make it to her bank before it closed. I had been used to her temper since we were small children. I tried to keep her as calm as possible. Alicia didn't want to go to a bank and decided to walk to the Grocer, four stores down to check an ATM machine for her balance.
It was as we walked down the short path of strip mall that the flyer inside a Dollar-Do-Ya window caught my attention. Alicia kept walking and didn't notice me stop. Probably didn't notice anything until after she checked her account.
I stared at Desiree's pretty, chocolate face on the flyer. I half listened as Alicia continued complaining about the clerk. “Oh, I have a mind to take this stuff back, get a refund and make her ring it back up again. It's not like she has anything better to do. She doesn't know who she’s messing with. Trying to throw attitude. I can show her attitude.”
“I'm sure that there was an error with the store machine. Don't let yourself get riled up for nothing,” I encouraged her even as a knot of emotions ate through my insides.
“How is it my fault that the woman doesn't make over minimum wage? She probably declined it on purpose trying to be funny. That clerk had me out here looking like a fool. It is a good thing nobody else was in that store, otherwise I would have cussed her behind out. She just doesn't know how close she came to a good cussing out.” Alicia's heated words could have melted the snow covered parking lot behind us.
My sister continued talking, but I no longer heard her voice. Her rant had faded into the background until I’d completely tuned her out. I stared at the date on the flyer, then back at the face. Desiree went missing several weeks before Khalil was arrested. Somebody's child vanished into thin air.
When she disappeared she had been fourteen years old. Two years younger than my daughter was now. I couldn't imagine that being Kaleia. I couldn't imagine sleeping at night without believing she was safe. Without believing either Kaleia or my other child, Caleb, were safe and sound. Not knowing whether one of my children was dead or alive seemed tragically incomprehensible. There couldn't be a worse feeling for a parent.
Thinking about Desiree's face, I was transported back to discovering her picture in that box. The harden soil had made it difficult for me to pull the lid up, but I had tugged. Finally it gave and rose with an eerie squeak. On that moving day, three years ago, I knew I’d found something sinister.
Pulling myself from past to present, I read the scant details on the missing poster and my suspicion was validated. I instinctively thought about foul play. I rubbed my abdomen and tried to calm my nerves.
Alicia finally realized I wasn't paying her any attention. “Why are we standing here?” she asked as she placed a hand upon her hip.
“I know her.” I pointed to the poster, touching the cold glass again. “I mean, I don't personally know her. Khalil knew her. Remember... I told you when I gave the police pictures of her and the others. They were supposed to help those girls. She's not supposed to be missing.” That churning in my stomach was growing larger.
Alicia worked at that Detroit Police precinct and knew everything. “Oh.”
The churning continued growing and building, until my insides felt like they were about to burst outward.
And in that moment I knew. I knew without any factual evidence that Khalil would forever be linked to that young girl's face. I knew that his evil doings had rocked more than just my family.
“Hmmm. Your twisted ex. That man is like diarrhea. He keeps giving you the runs long after you think you’re cured.” Alicia pursed her lips momentarily. She stared at the missing date before adding, “October of 2006. I would be the first to blame him for wrongdoing, but during that time he was stalking you. You don’t think he also had something to do with her disappearance?”
I feverishly nodded.
Khalil was capable of anything.