Lurking

 Stella looked at her reflection in the mirror for the millionth time and scoffed. She did not like what she was seeing. TO HELL WITH THAT, she thought to herself. She never liked her reflection anyway. She was doing this because her therapist had said she would increase her pay per session if she did not 'loosen up'.

"Going out would help a lot, Stella," Clara had said as she adjusted her glasses, more because she was fond of doing so than because it was necessary. "Maybe better than regular sessions." She looked down at her book and wrote something before sharply looking up and peeking above her glasses. "No layers of makeup." she said.

"Right."

"I'm sorry, did you say something?"

"Me? No!" Stella denied. As long as she could wear anything she liked, she was totally Ok with the no-makeup thing.

But as if reading her thoughts, "And dress like a LADY, Stella."

WHAT?

"You heard that right. You are not, for whatever reason, to wear shorts, three-quarters, baggy joggers, gloves, especially not those things you call pop socks and any other thing that is... un-lady-like. Dress like a normal lady going on a date."

What?! "I'm not a normal lady." Stella had wanted to retort but decided against it. That would have meant extra therapy time that she was not in the mood for. Un-lady-like, was that even a word?

"I don't care about the number of WHATs you say."

She did not realize she had said that out loud.

"Yes, you did," Clara responded

Stella had glared in response, "Did I say that too out loud or you're just being an annoying psychic?"

Clara had smirked and stood up from her chair to return a case file. Stella's. "Are we clear?" She had asked, ignoring the glare she got earlier.

No. "Crystal." She had replied instead.

And here she was, dressed as and successfully looking like a doll gone wrong. But what could possibly go wrong, right? With that, she picked her clutch purse and left the house.

* * *

Motun blinked at the man facing her and yawned. He was saying something about a time and something- something that she was far from hearing. The scene was swarmed with people- nosy reporters who found it difficult to stay off the yellow tapes, neighbourhood busybodies who 'heard and came' and every other person going back and forth. She yawned again, loudly this time: loud enough to let everyone know that she was not finding it funny or nice being called so early by her Chief on a cold morning to attend to a case. Very normal of Dorathy.

Nobody paid attention to her yawning, though. Telling her that this, whatever it was, was more important than anyone's love for a nice sleep. Very normal of her co-workers too.

What was abnormal, she thought, looking around, was the crime scene itself. Although the property on which the body was placed had been abandoned for a long time now, people passed every route in G.R.A. Ikeja almost every time of the day. It had to take a lot of courage- and shamelessness- to kill someone here, unless of course, the actual crime took place somewhere else. Besides, the people close to the area had to have a lot going on with them if they had not heard any cry.

Another abnormal- but this time, annoying- thing was the rude lateness or absence of whoever Dorathy had chosen to be her partner. J.K., her partner was away on leave and since this happened in her absence, she had to work with another partner and she knew that Dorathy was going to surprise her. She had a feeling she might not like the surprise. All she could do was wait and see.

Well, more than enough time to do her 'thing' without anyone interrupting her thoughts. She did not feel guilty at all. Since her partner did not deem it fit to notify her of his or her lateness of absence, she was going to carry on without him or her. She crossed the tapes, moved closer to the body wrapped in a white cloth and wore her gloves.

"Estimated time of the death?" She asked.

"About six hours ago." A guy who she recognized to be from Forensics replied.

To confirm her speculations, she asked, "How long has the body been lying here?"

"About three hours."

Sounds about right. She uncovered the body. "Is this cloth ours?"

"No"

The body was a female's. About five-foot-six tall. The skin of the face, neck, upper and lower limbs, chest and belly were scraped off.

"Judging by the difference in colours, the scraping was done in sections. It also looks sloppy and messy. This was not done by a professional." Someone else said behind Motun- more like breathed on her neck.

She could not agree less. "No, it was not." She looked at the scars again. "He had to be done with one section before moving to the next. "It looks messy but he was not in a hur-" Who was she responding to by the way? And why did her heart miss a beat? She raised her head. Right. No wonder.

"James Maduka reporting for duty, ma'am." James gave a mock salute and winked.

Well, of course, who else had the guts to report late for duty but James Maduka? Nice one, Dorathy, nice one. She did not disappoint and had given her just the perfect person she did not want, not just because he was always late, but for other reasons. Other reasons that had to do with her sanity. Other reasons that had to do with her heart and why it skipped a beat earlier.

"Most of us don't want to be here too, James. I'm pretty sure nobody else loves playing call of duty at 5:30am on a chilly Lagos morning let alone stay here a minute longer. The best we can do is wrap things up ASAP and your lateness did not help doing that." With that Motun bent to continue examining the body. "And although I see no reason you should come late, a little heads-up would have at least shown that you are sorry."

"I'm sorry," James started.

YEAH, RIGHT. And here comes the excuse.

"Cassie had an episode just when I was about to leave the house. I had to make sure she was fine before leaving."

"There we have it, same old excuse," Motun wanted to say but thought better of it. There was no need adding to the reasons people called her 'the witch'. James indeed had a five-year-old asthmatic daughter that everyone knew of because he would not stop using her as an excuse for his regular incompetence. Although, Motun had a feeling it was not as bad as James always made it out to be, it was the cold season and poor Cassie was bound to have frequent attacks. But James always used Cassie's attacks even during summer, forgetting the fact that most of them knew that Cassie's mum was a full-time baby mama.

Motun found it annoying that people either forgot that fact or chose to ignore it because James' Dad was a higher-up and he would eventually be let off the hook even if brows were raised.

"That I'm here this morning does not mean I do not have my own stuff to attend to. Unlike you, James, I am a mother. Big difference. I don't wake up, freshen up and buzz off without prepping my kids. And I definitely do not have a stay-at-home husband." All these were the words Motun wanted to lash out but "I'm sorry about Cassie" was all she said. She knew if she began to lash out, she would say things from her emotions that she didn't want to say. She didn't want to appear vulnerable to James, not after what happened between them. Not after her resolve to be strong.

"Thanks."

"Like I was saying, the killer was not in a hurry to scrape the skin. Whatever he used was sharp enough to scrape the top layer but meticulously, he almost did not damage the inner layer at all. The question is why scrape the skin?"

"And what finally killed the victim? The scraping definitely was not the cause of death."

Motun looked at James. He definitely had not lost his touch. Probably another reason he was always pardoned.

"No, it wasn't," she replied, standing up.

"I need this body ID'ed. Get forensics to do a proper autopsy. I want answers in 24 hours. Nobody crosses these tapes unless I say so." Motun reeled out commands as the already silent scene became filled with activities again.

Turning to James, she said, "I need a profile."

"On it."

Motun took a final sweep of the scene with her eyes, wondering why someone cruel enough to commit murder would also be considerate enough to properly take care of his victim's body.

* * *

The desk phone blared repeatedly, annoyingly interrupting Motun's short nap. She had been working endlessly since the day broke trying to build a case profile because she wanted to have something from her own point of view, plus she didn't entirely trust James to do a good job- or any job at all- seeing as he had time to go from table to table answering stupid questions about the body found earlier that day. She could not help but notice that the 'tables' were ladies' tables. James had always been a lady's man, every single lady in the PD had a crush on him. She hated the fact that she also was not immune to him. She hated the fact that with his desk so close to hers, it took a lot of subconscious confirmation that she was married before she could at least go on with her day. She hated the fact that Dorathy put him on this case with her.

Motun was tired and needed a nap. Twenty-five minutes was all she needed but she obviously could not get even that because nobody seemed to care about the phone's ring.

She hissed and tried to trace where the ring was coming from. It was from the missing persons desk. Strange. It had been a while since someone called that line. It was almost as if it didn't exist anymore and Peter, the guy in charge of the desk, had since taken solace in being with the guys at the reception. She could not blame him.

"Lagos State Police area command, Ikeja. This is Motun Banks. What is your name and how may I help you?"

"Good afternoon, officer Motun. I am Clara Adichie."

"Good afternoon, Miss Adichie. How may I help you?"

"I'm calling to report someone missing."

Motun picked a pen. "Okay, and who would that be?"

"My patient, Stella. Stella Coker."

"Your patient?"

"Yes."

Motun swallowed whatever comment she wanted to make. "How would you describe this patient of yours?" She asked.

"Thirty-one years old. About five-foot-seven. Dark skinned. Somewhere between chubby and skinny."

That's a strange age. Motun expected something younger. "When was the last time you contacted her?"

"Sunday evening. On the phone. She did not call on Tuesday to confirm her Wednesday appointment. She did not show up on Wednesday either. She has been unreachable since then."

"Is she the type to, you know, go off the grid for a while?"

"No. Never. I wouldn't be reporting her missing if she does that often."

This probably was not any cause for alarm but Motun loved being extra sure. She asked for Clara's address as she picked her jacket and keys.

"Thank you, Miss Adichie. I'll be with you shortly." She dropped the receiver.

"Going somewhere?" James asked as he walked towards her.

Motun gave him a look that said I-owe-you-no-explanation before saying a sharp "Yes."

"Does it have anything to do with the call from the missing person's desk?"

This man. "Oh, so you heard the ring."

James seemed to be more occupied giving her an discomforting stare than with the call that came in earlier. Then he snapped out of it and put his hand in his trouser pocket.

"Care to fill me in?"

Guilty. Seeing as he ignored her accusation. "Why would I do that?"

"Err... I am your partner?" He said as if testing how it sounded.

"Says who? This case is different from the deadbbody case Dorathy paired us for. Speaking of which, how about we start from where I asked you to write a case profile and you screamed 'on it' only for you to go about playing popular dude, leaving me to deal with Dorathy's report on my own to-"

"-Whoa, easy, tigress."

Motun glared at him. She hated being interrupted like that and he knew it.

"Okay," James raised his hands in surrender "I'm sorry. I'll write the report as soon as we-"

"-That," Motun snapped. "Wouldn't be necessary."

"Fine, drama queen. Can you at least fill me in?"

Motun quickly told him all she knew so far, including the unusual fact that Clara was simply Stella's doctor.

"Why isn't a relative reporting her missing. I mean it's been over forty-eight hours. For all we know, may be more. This is Thursday and Clara said they last spoke on Sunday."

Motun nodded. "Something is wrong somewhere. Only one way to find out. I already opened the case. It's on my desk. I want to be sure before I process it."

"Wait, you opened a case based on a hunch?" James stared at her in disbelief.

Motun rolled her eyes. Well her hunch never failed her. It was one of the reasons she climbed the ladder fast. She was one of the few people Dorathy still trusted when things came to a standstill and a breakthrough was needed. "Where were you when I said it is still on my desk?"

"You might as well send the file to Dorathy, and add a sticky note saying 'I'll get back to you once I confirm the thirty-one year old woman- who probably just needs a break- is missing' and see how that goes."

Motun could not be bothered to explain anything else.

"What will you do if it turns out she is not missing after all?"

"Tear the papers?" This was not the first time she was doing things against protocol. And it definitely would not be the last. "You coming or not?"

"I'm not about to take the blame for something I warned you about."

Right. But he would be able to take the credit with her if this turns to be a missing case indeed and they- she- solved it. Classic cop, classic James, not a risk taker.

"If it turns out she isn't missing, I'll take the blame."

"She is not missing. And for someone who wants to 'take the blame'," He made an air quote. "You are doing a good job trying to get me to follow you." Then he gave that flirting smirk again. "I like that though."

Motun ignored her heart which seemed to have lost its break and the goosebumps that rose on her skin. "Are you coming or not?"

James opened the passenger door and got in.

Motun really wanted to think that Stella was okay. But she had had this feeling before and it was not for anything good. She turned towards the road to Clara's office. Traffic was not as bad as she had thought it would be. It was a few minutes to 1pm.

Motun stared in disbelief with her mouth widely open. She had been like that since she entered Clara's office a few seconds ago. Not in her wildest imaginations had she expected the person who made the call to be The Clara Adichie, best therapist in Lagos and one of the best in the country. No, she had not. She was here anyway, no need acting stupid. So she closed her mouth.

"Detective," the woman stretched her hands. "Clara Adichie."

Motun took the hand and shook it. "Hello, Doctor. Motun Banks." And gesturing towards James, "My partner, James Maduka." She said.

"Hello."

James shook Clara's hand with a smile. "I have to say, Dr Adichie, those magazines and blogs are doing no justice to your looks. It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady."

Motun rolled her eyes secretly. YEAH, RIGHT. Classic James. He was at it again. Not everyone can help talking when they are supposed to be quiet.

"Well, thanks, Detective. I get that a lot. The pleasure is all mine." Clara responded.

"So, would you mind telling me why you think your patient is missing? I mean everything I need to know." Motun had to add that last statement. She had dealt with and had enough of people keeping things that turned out to be important to past cases.

"I don't." As if catching herself, she gasped and said with a smile, "My bad, please have your seats." She lowered herself into one too.

Motun mumbled a 'Thanks' and proceeded to asking her questions.

"How long have you discovered she is missing?"

"Well, she went for her practical on Sunday evening and we spoke when she got back."

"Practical?" Motun asked, wondering why Clara used the word like she was supposed to grasp the meaning just like that.

"Sorry. It is a part of therapy where patients take big steps that are important to them getting better. In Clara's case, she was supposed to go out."

"Oh."

"And she did before we spoke on Sunday night. Now, normally she would have called on Tuesday night to confirm her Wednesday morning appointment but she didn't. So, I just concluded she forgot. Then, she didn't show up for her appointment on Wednesday. I tried her cell a few times but her line has been unreachable."

"Ok. Can you tell me general things I should know about Stella? Let's start with your meeting."

Clara told her everything, from when she met Stella to her progress in therapy and how Sunday's outing was a big step for her since the fire accident that changed her life.

Motun listened, not interrupting but taking notes when necessary. She then looked over notes to be sure she did not leave anything out. Clara seemed to have said everything. So, "Thank you very much for your-" Wait, why wasn't there a 'how' in Clara's account of meeting Stella? She either forgot or deliberately left that part out. Clara Adichie was not the type to forget important details so Motun settled for the latter.

"Thank you for your time, Dr Adichie. We are almost done here and I'll proceed with the paperwork since it has been over forty-eight hours that you last heard from her. There's one more question I want to ask." She looked up, waiting for a go-ahead.

"Sure, ask."

"How did you meet Stella?"

Motun saw Clara's smile freeze for a while before it defroze again. Then she blinked twice. A lie was coming.

"Errr, well... the way therapists meet patients?"

What was that supposed to mean? "You mean she booked an appointment?"

"Hmmm, technically, yes."

Motun knew Clara was not lying. Basically, all patients book an appointment with their doctors. But Clara was not saying the exact truth. She did not want to push it, because she knew she would eventually find out as investigation proceeded. So, she stood up.

"Well, then, thank you for your time, Dr Adichie. Here is my card if you need to speak with me."

"No, THANK YOU for your time. And you can call me Clara. You are welcome anytime." She nodded at James, "Detective James."

"Definitely, Doctor. Do enjoy the rest of the day."

"You too, thanks."

Back in the car, Motun buckled in and started the car.

"That was one hell of an interview. And with Clara Adichie! God, I almost can't believe it." James exhaled loudly.

Motun looked at him in disbelief and shook her head. She wondered what part of the interview was hell. She could not believe all James was focused on was being in the same breathing space with a celebrity doctor.

James stopped smiling when he saw her reaction. "What?" He asked.

"You want to tell me you don't know she was lying to us back there?"

It was James' turn to stare at her. "You think she lied?"

"I don't THINK she lied, I KNOW she did."

When James kept staring at her with his mouth open, she started to explain.

"The conversation was going on well until I asked how she met Stella. She suddenly blinked twice and her smile froze. Then began the usage of 'err' and 'hmm'. How could you not notice all of these and will you close your mouth before you drop drool on my seat?"

James instantly shut his mouth. "Sorry, my bad. To answer your question, I was too busy checking out the office. My gawd! The interior décor, the golden troph- did you at least see those trophies? All those-"

"James!"

"Sorry. So, that was why you concluded she was lying? Because she blinked? Blinking is a reflex action taught in basic science, hellooo. How dramatic." He rolled his eyes. Then he adjusted on his seat. "On a second thought... I loove, love drama."

Motun could feel the car get smaller, the heat rising. But, No. "I don't even know why I'm wasting my time talking to you." God, she missed J.K. The only person who understood her hunches and gut feelings.

She met Juliana Kolawole, J.K. while taking the Force exam fifteen years ago. Then, she had just completed the one-year mandatory service as a National Youth Service Corp (NYSC) member after earning her Bachelor's degree in Criminology and Security Studies at the University of Ilorin, Kwara State. She was having a hard time locating her exam center when she met a lady who also had the same exam at the same center but unlike Motun, the lady knew the way there. The lady introduced herself as Juliana and offered to help her.

"This way," she said smiling.

"Thanks," Motun had replied, finally relieved she would not miss her exam all because of her inability to locate the center.

They had sat the exams and met again outside. Motun thanked her for her help earlier.

"It's nothing."

J.K. had then asked how the exam was, to which Motun gave a positive response. They then had a little chat before exchanging contact info with each promising to contact the other soon. Their friendship started there and then. Fifteen years down the line, they were now close friends and detectives. Six of those years, they have been partners and together they had many solved cases to their credit. Together they had solved all the cases assigned to them. Except one. One cold case that seemed to be the only reason they could not have a hundred percent case solving rate.

"So, are we leaving or you want to go back in and try telling it to Clara's face that you think she lied?" James asked.

"Shut up."

"Now that I think about it, I actually don't mind waiting in the car."

Motun said nothing and simply glared at him.

"I'll be a good boy and not touch anything." He pestered.

"Get out of my car."

James smirked, said 'sorry' and instantly kept his mouth shut.

Motun drove out of the compound on which Clara's office was built. No matter how much she thought of it, she could not ignore the feeling that Clara's response to her last question was a blatant lie. She could only hope it was not too late by the time she found out what she was hiding- because she would- and that it had nothing to do with Clara being missing. She glanced at the clock, it was almost time to get off work and pick the kids from school. She only needed to drop by the station, get a few things, pick the kids from school and head home. To another tasking part of her life.

* * *

The school compound was deserted, save the security. It was almost as if no one attended the school. What had she expected? It was past 4pm. School closed by 3pm and all parents were expected to pick up their kids between then and 3:30pm. She was the only one who always picked up her kids last. The security nodded at her as if wishing her the best

"Mommy!"

Motun lifted the six-year old bundle that hit her a few seconds ago and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Hel-lo sport, I'm so sorry I'm late. Missed me?"

"Yes!" then opening the bag and ruffling through it, he asked "Did you buy me something?"

"You bet I did. But you can only get that if you tell me what you did in class today."

"I got A's in aaallll my class work. Aunty gave me two sweets and I did not share with anybody because nobody played with me yesterday."

That last statement was all it took for the pain to start all over. The pain a mother feels because of her child- that no matter how hard he tried, T.J. will not be able to have friends and do things like normal kids do. Not because he didn't try to, but because his classmates were so cruel- so cruel for a bunch of six-year-olds that they would not play with him because he just could not keep up with their pace. Every single day of the week, T.J. would come home saying the same thing- nobody played with him. She felt sorry for her him. Her poor baby. IT IS NOT HIS FAULT!!! She wanted to scream at those mannerless kids every single time. But-

"-Hey, mom."

"Jerry, darling, how are you?"

"Stop calling me 'Jerry', mom. Gawd!"

Motun smiled, her second born didn't seem to care about her lateness. There was only one reason- he got into trouble in class again. He sometimes had good reason too and sometimes he was just being naughty. Motun trusted him to not be unreasonable. But because he was by far the most understanding even though he was only nine-years old did not change the fact that she ought to apologize.

"I'm sorry I'm late. Again."

"Oh, it's fine, mom. I know you are busy." He nodded towards his sister, who was approaching them. "She is the one you should talk to." Then he winked and made a run towards the car.

"You are late again." Amanda walked past her.

"That is no way to-"

"-talk to my mother?" she scoffed. "Try another catchphrase, mom."

Motun picked up T.J., settled him on her hips and picked up his lunchbox.

"Look, I'm sorry. I had to go for an interview and

"So, it is no longer traffic but interview? Nice try."

Motun knew she had messed up again. Initially, when Amanda was younger, she would tell her the traffic was terrible just to make her feel better. Now, she was almost fifteen and could not be bought over by such things again. So, Motun resolved to tell her the truth but even that did not seem to be working because Mandy had concluded that Motun was giving excuses for her unavailability as a mother.

"I'm sorry, Mandy." Was all she could say.

Amanda said nothing. Motun knew they needed to have a long talk.

"Okay, sport," she looked at T.J. "Let's get you home."

"Yaaayyyy."

Motun buckled T.J. in, started the car and headed for G.R.A, Ikeja. Her home. Where she was not catching bad guys but was struggling to not be one.

* * *

Motun sat in front of the TV that she barely paid attention to. She thought about the event of the day: the dead body, the missing patient of one of the best therapists in town and the fight with Amanda that she had not been able to settle. The thought of the day worsened her mood. She was still trying to come up with a way to patch things up with Amanda- to make it up with the kids all together for how bad a mother she had been these past years. The fight with Mandy did not start today, it was simply a reaction to Motun's actions and inactions as a mother.

She remember the look Mandy had that afternoon when she had tried to explain herself. It was like her mind was made up, she was going to choose not to believe Motun no matter what she said even if she knew it was the truth. Fear gripped her. She-

"Hey babe."

Motun looked up, surprised to find her husband standing at the door. "Steve!" How long has she been out? "I didn't hear you drive in."

"Somebody was lost in thoughts, huh?" He gave her a kiss on the forehead. "How are you?" He asked, taking his shoes off.

"I'm fine. How was work?" She asked, taking his jacket off.

"Normal? I'm almost done signing the papers for the deal."

"It's finally going to be official? Oh, my God! I'm so happy for you babe." She jumped on him.

"Whoa whoa. How did you get so heavy between last night and now?"

Motun bit his shoulder in retaliation even as she snuggled deeper into his embrace.

"You do know those teeth of yours have no effect on me, right?"

Motun was past hearing as tears welled up in her eyes. Steven deserved that deal. That, she knew. She had seen him work himself up when he was writing the proposal. There was a time it looked like he wasn't getting the deal. Even at that time, he had been the best, making himself available and covering up for her mistakes with the children. When they had fought, he put up a facade so that the children would not see. Steve had tried a lot. Amanda was the only person the facade did not work on. She saw through all of them and somehow always got to know it was Motun's fault almost every time. If only she could be a better wife and mother.

"Earth to Motun." Steve shook her lightly. "What's the matter, honey? You seemed lost. You didn't even hear me ask a question."

God. "I'm sorry, what was the question? Dinner? I already served dinner-"

"I didn't say anything about dinner. What's going on?"

What the matter was was not the big deal. The deal was she could not tell Steve. She and Steve had just become cool after a very long fight. She remembered vividly what the fight was about. It happened here two months ago. Motun remembered the look in Stephen's eyes- the pain and disappointment. She had missed an important day in their life chasing a lead and he had vowed not to ever forgive her. It took a lot of pleading- a whole lot- before he finally forgive her a week ago. The kids were not the only person Motun messed up with, she had messed up with Stephen too, countless times in fact. Looking back at the time when they weren't on speaking terms, she dreaded going back there. If she told him she had a fight with Amanda, what will be the reason she will give? How could she possibly say the reason was because she chose work again when she had promised to be a better person? Lying was not an option either. If anything, Steve preferred the bitter truth to a sweet lie. She had witnessed him cut ties with people who lied to him. It did not matter why they did it.

So she decided not to say anything.

"Nothing." She replied.

"Right."

Steve obviously was not buying that.

"I'm fine. Really." She tried to sound reassuring.

Steve said nothing and simply nodded. Motun knew it was not because he was convinced she was okay. It was the other way round. He led the way up the stairs to their room.

"The kids?"

"I put them to sleep a while ago." Motun took off her cloth and started to get ready for bed.

"I just decided what I want for dinner." Stephen breathed behind her ear. When did he get there?

"Well, a man can be fast when he sees dinner. An appetizing one."

"This... Is out of bound for people who do not eat food." Motun protested.

"No, this... Is up for grabs." He carried her and placed her gently on the bed. "Specially made for people who do not eat food."

Later that night as Motun laid in bed, she resolved to do one thing: to settle things with Amanda after work the next day. For starters, she was going to pick them up from school as soon as it was closing hour. That in mind, she was finally able to sleep.

* * *

Motun look at the desk phone, half-expecting it to ring like it had yesterday when Clara had called to report Stella missing. She had been like that since morning. Why was no-one, not even a friend, calling to report Stella missing? Clara had done that but it wasn't in Clara's place to inform the family of her speculations. If anything, the family should by now be missing her. When she got to the part of the form that required Stella's home address, she realized she did not get that detail form Clara. She picked up her phone and dialled Clara's number.

"Clara adichie speaking."

"Good afternoon, Dr Adichie. This is Motun Banks."

"Detective! Good afternoon. How may I help you?

"Could you perhaps help me with Stella's address? I'm completing and processing the form for her case but I realised just now that I did not ask for her address. I need it completely fill the profile.

"Is- is it important?"

What did she just say? "Of course! I mean, yes. If anything, we could get answers to get whereabouts in the neighborhood.

"Wait, you- you're visiting the house?"

Why was Clara being so dramatic about giving out Stella's address? "Like I said, it will help to get familiar with the victims life. I will not call you if it were not important. For all we know, she might even be in the house."

"Oh-Ok."

As Clara dictated the address to Stella's house, Motun could sense the fear in her voice.

"Thank you very much, Dr Adichie. I appreciate this."

"It is my pleasure."

Motun knew it was not Clara's pleasure considering the fact that she had not minded her not calling her 'Clara'. She could not place it yet but she knew something was wrong. What was beyond the therapist-patient relationship Clara and Stella seemed to have? She was determined to find out what was wrong but right now, it was time to settle things with her kids. She picked her keys and headed to her car. She ensured her mediation gifts were in place before zooming off hoping that Lagos traffic would not spoil things for her.

* * *

Traffic seemed to be on her side because she got to the school just as the closing bell was being wrong. She quickly drove into the school premises, parked her car and got out. Five minutes later, she saw Jerry running towards her.

"Mom?"

"Jerry!"

"Mom!" He hugged her waist tight. God! What had she done to get kids? Jerry was not the emotional type. Seeing him that way, Motun felt worse. All the same, she hugged him tighter.

"How are you, darling?"

"You are here early!"

"Well... That is not all there is. I got you something."

"You did?"

"Yes. It's-"

"Mommy!"

The fact that T.J. could call her 'mommy', Steve 'daddy', Jerry 'Jerry' and Amanda 'Amanda' had always been a source of joy to her. Not every child suffering from the same disease could do the same.

But today, it touched her in a different way. She could see he was so happy to see her. Because he would not have to deal with his oh-so-mean classmates for the rest of the day.

"Hey sport," she carried him up. "How are you darling?"

"Fine."

He wanted to say something, Motun noticed. She had an idea what it was.

"I know, I'm early. But there is more. I got you something. Wanna see?"

He nodded.

Motun heard Jerry whistle. "Here comes the boss lady." By instinct, she looked up.

Amanda was walking towards the park with a friend. They appeared to be saying something funny as they giggled. As if sensing eyes on her, Amanda looked up. Her smile froze and for a moment, she stopped working. Then she caught herself and started working again, this time towards the car.

"Good afternoon, mom." She said, opened the car door and got in.

Jerry rolled his eyes.

Motun exhaled sharply. "Ok! Time to go." She buckled T.J. in and got in her side of the car.

* * *

Even after lunch, Amanda did not say anything to Motun- not even a word about her early arrival at school. So, Motun decided to go to her by herself. The mountain can go to Mohammed if Mohammed is mad at the mountain.

Motun knocked before opening the door. "Can I come in?"

"You're in my room already, mom."

Motun walked closer to the bed and sat down facing her daughter, holdund the gift she had in her hand gently. She could see the curiosity in Amanda's eyes.

"It's a gift." She stretched the gift. "For you."

Amanda closed the book she had been reading before she came in, collected the gift, placed it on her closet and sat back down.

"Won't you at least check what is inside?"

"Not now. I'm still mad at you. I won't give you the satisfaction of seeing the look on my face when I open it."

This girl clocked fourteen only a few months ago, yet she already knew how to take an eye for an eye.

"Fair. I'm sorry ok? I don't think it's necessary to explain myself because it obviously won't solve anything. I'm sorry hmm? I'll be better, I promise. Forgive me, my darling. Please."

Amanda said nothing but Motun could see her eyes soften.

"Come here." She beckoned.

Amanda snuggled into her arms. A few moments later, Motun released her.

"Am I forgiven?"

"Hmm, hmm. I'm still mad at you, though."

She smiled. "What's the difference?"

"We are having this conversation."

"Right. You know I love you, right?"

"I know you do. I never doubted that. I love you, mom. We love you, but we need you to be here for us."

She felt tears gathering in her eyes. "I'll be better. I promise."

That was a promise she planned to keep no matter what.

"I have to get back to work. I'll be back in two hours just in time for dinner. We are going out, ok?"

"Ok, mom."

Motun made for the door.

"I love you."

"You said that before."

"I know."

Now that her family is in order, Motun felt like a heavy weight was being lifted off her chest. She was not going to miss dinner tonight. Not for anything. She made a mental note to text Stephen about it. Right now, it was time to meet Stella Coker for real.