by Roy Glenn
Black slammed his glass down on the coffee table. “Fuck that, Nick! No matter how it turned out, you shoulda never left like you did. You shoulda came to me. I woulda settled that shit. You didn’t have to join the fuckin’ Army. We had just made our big move; things were about to change, and you’re gone.”
“I was wrong, Black. I know that. I thought Bobby killed Camille and would be coming for me next. You woulda been in the middle of it. I couldn’t put you in that position: having to choose between me and Bobby.”
“That wasn’t your choice to make.”
“What would you have done if Bobby shot me?”
“I don’t know. I’m glad I never had to find out,” Black said, and I heard my cell phone ringing in the bedroom. I got up quickly and went to answer it.
I was glad that it rang and hoped when I got back he would be done with it and moved on to something else.
“Hello.”
“Mr. Simmons, this is Roslyn Phillips speaking. How are you today?”
“I’m doing fine, Mrs. Phillips. How are you?”
“I’ll manage. I was calling for two reasons.”
“What’s that, Mrs. Phillips?” I already knew what one of them was.
“I wanted to know if you had found who killed Zakiya.”
“Not yet, but I’m working on it.”
“I see. Well, I know these things take time. But I just thought I’d ask. But the main reason I was calling was to make sure that you would be at her funeral today?”
I hadn’t planned on going. Hadn’t given it any thought at all, to be honest about it. But I promised that I would be there. Mrs. Phillips gave me the address of the church and I hung up. I went back to the living room and hoped that Black wanted to talk about Charles Watson and not me running out on him.
“That was Mrs. Phillips on the phone,” I said when I got back in the room.
“Wants to know about Zakiya?”
“That and whether I was coming to her funeral.”
“Are you?”
“I told her I’d be there. Since you’re dressed for it, you wanna come with me?”
“No.” Black said definitely. “I have a lunch meeting with Wanda and somebody else with a name I can’t pronounce. After that, I gotta meet Bobby at the club to talk to P Harlem and his agent about some shit P did to lose his record deal. Then I have a dinner meeting at Cuisine with our investment banker.”
“Meka Brazil?”
Black looked at me like he was surprised I knew that. Then I guess he thought about it. “Wanda.”
I nodded my head.
“Tell me about Zakiya Phillips?”
“Word I got is that the shooters were Jasper Robinson’s people.”
“J.R.?”
“I talked to him and I don’t think he knows anything about it.”
“How’s he doing?”
“He looked all right to me, but his daughter says he’s been sick.”
“I haven’t seen Lorraine and Miles since they were kids.”
“She likes to be called Rain now. I didn’t meet Miles yet.”
“Jeff Ritchie still with him?”
“Yeah. What’s his deal?”
“Jeff Ritchie is J.R.’s right hand; he’s been with him for years.”
“Why do they call him by his whole name all the time?”
“That’s what J.R. always called him. I don’t know why. I do know I wouldn’t mind having J.R.’s gambling operation, but I hear Lorraine’s into more than just gambling,” Black said and got up to leave. “If J.R. is involved, kill him.”
Chapter 23
After Black left, I hit the shower and got ready to go to Zakiya Phillips’s funeral. On the way there, Black’s words rolled around in my mind.
Then why would you think I’d let Bobby kill you?
You shoulda came to me.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I shouldn’t have left the way I did, but I wasn’t about to let Bobby kill me over Camille.
I’ll never forget that night. Bobby with his gun in my mouth, screaming he was gonna kill me; Black with his gun to Bobby’s head. He just kept saying, “Bobby put the gun down.” I remember looking at his face; his eyes. I could see the pain he was in.
My two best friends.
Bobby was ready to kill me. And Black, shit! I can’t even imagine where his head was, with a gun to Bobby’s head.
I called Camille when I left there that night to tell her what happened. She didn’t care. Camille told me to come fuck her, and that was all she had to say. I was on my way, but I needed a drink first. Camille was dead when I got there. Two shots to the head. I was sure that Bobby had killed her, and I was next. And I knew that if Bobby wanted me dead, Black wouldn’t have been able to stop him.
The truth was, I ran out on Black when he needed me most. We had just killed André and his partner Ricky Combs. After the job, Jamaica, who at the time was strung-out on heroin, went MIA. And then I disappeared.
I thought this was over when I made peace with Bobby, but I was wrong. Me and Black would have to talk about this again; there’s something I gotta say.
I arrived at the funeral just as Mrs. Phillips got out of the limo. She told me that I looked very handsome in a suit and asked me to escort her in. When we got to the first pew, she insisted that I sit next to her. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.
I didn’t mind.
I couldn’t begin to imagine what she was feeling right now. She had raised Zakiya just like my grandmother raised me. Being with her reminded me of the time I spent with my grandmother. If my being there with her made her feel any better, I was glad to be there for her.
I don’t like funerals. I’ve been to too many. I felt out of place sitting there. I didn’t know Zakiya. I’m just the guy trying to honor an old lady’s request to find who killed her granddaughter. I thought about Freeze and felt myself getting mad. I guess it showed on my face. Mrs. Phillips nudged me.
“Stop looking like that,” she whispered.
After the funeral, I drove away thinking about what I was gonna do next to keep my promise.
When I got to Monika’s apartment, she looked surprised to see me. “I’m honored that you’re here,” she said when I mentioned it.
“What are you talking about?”
“I hear you’re cappo the big dog or some shit now.”
“How’d you hear about it?”
“Jackie told me.”
“You and Jackie ain’t?” I had to ask.
“No. It ain’t like she ain’t tried me. But I like dick too much.”
“What’d she say about me being the boss?” It felt funny saying it.
“I just told you. I’m just glad to see that even though you the man now that you still got time for your old friends. But you’re probably here because you need something.”
“You’re right, I do need something, but that don’t mean I can’t come see an old friend.”
“So what’s it like?”
“I’m getting used to it.”
“I just never thought it was you, you know, all that gangster shit.”
“What makes you say that?”
“When I met you, you were a soldier. I remember the stories you used to tell about what you used to do, and you always seemed like you were glad to put all that behind you.”
“This was my life back then. Maybe this is who I really am, and I was trying to run away from it.”
“Maybe. I didn’t know you when this was your life. That’s why it just seems funny to me.”
“A lot’s happened since then.”
“You’re right about that. Because back then I never imagined I’d be doing what I’m doing.”
“You have any luck with those e-mails?”
“Of course I did. Like I told you, I may not be as good as Jett, but I have skills too. This was easy, I got something going and I sure could use his help.”
“What you working on?” I asked, but she didn’t answer me and gave me on
e of her looks. Whatever she was into she didn’t want to tell me. I respected her privacy. We talked for a while after that and I got out of there. What I got from Monika came as a bit of a surprise, but it shouldn’t have. The pieces were starting to fit together.
Monika told me that the e-mails were sent from a computer at J.R.’s club. What she couldn’t tell me just who the account holder was, or more to the point, what their real name was.
“It was set up last October with the first name, Nice; middle name, N; and the last name, Slow,” Monika told me.
When I got to J.R.’s it was early in the evening. They didn’t have much of a crowd yet. It gave me a chance to talk to the staff and show them the picture I took from Zakiya’s apartment. I had shown it to a few people before I found one who thought she recognized her.
“Yeah,” the waitress said and looked at the picture a little closer. “I seen her before. This picture was taken here,” she said and pointed to the spot where Zakiya posed for the picture. She called over one of her co-workers. She looked at the picture; she had seen Zakiya there too.
“Yup, she be up in here all the time.”
“You ever see her with anybody?” I asked as Jeff Ritchie came into the club. He stopped in his tracks when he saw me.
“I don’t remember her being with nobody, but she be in here all the time.”
I looked at Jeff Ritchie again; he turned away and went in the back of the club. It couldn’t have been two minutes later when Rain came out of the back and headed in my direction.
She was wearing a purple mini-skirt that showed off some very pretty legs, and a white silk blouse that was tied just under a healthy set of titties. As she got closer, I wondered where she was hiding her gun.
When the waitresses saw Rain coming, they dropped their heads and left me standing there to face her alone.
I smiled when I saw the, what the fuck are you doing here, look on her face. The question now was how was I gonna play Rain? Since she played me, it was only fair that I returned the favor.
Since the e-mails were sent from somewhere in this building, I assumed that whoever this Nice N. Slow was, that they worked there, or had access to whatever computers they had. The question for me was does Rain know who it is.
I think she does.
If that was the case, I know she had to be thinking that she had gotten rid of me with her bullshit and I would look somewhere else for Zakiya’s killers.
If she didn’t, it would make things more interesting.
“Couldn’t stay away from me?” Rain said when she got close enough for me to hear her over the music.
“That’s one way of looking at it.”
“Whatever it is, Nick, I’m glad to see you. Maybe this time you’ll have a drink with me.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
“What you drinking?”
“Johnnie Black, straight up.”
Rain signaled for one of the waitresses I had just talked to. She tried not to even look in my direction. Rain told her what I wanted. “And bring me a shot of Patrón.”
After the waitress went to get our drinks, Rain turned back to me. “You find your shooters yet?”
“Not yet. But I heard from some of her friends that she liked to hang out here.” I took out the picture. “I got a picture of her,” I said and handed Rain the picture.
I was anxious to see the expression on her face and the look in her eyes when she saw Zakiya’s picture, but there was none.
“Never seen her before. You show that to anybody else here, maybe one of the waitresses seen her here.”
“I did, but nobody recognized her,” I lied.
“I ain’t surprised. A lotta people come through here every night.”
“It was a shot in the dark.”
“You were just looking for an excuse to come see me, that’s all.”
“That’s one way of looking at it.”
The waitress came back with our drinks and disappeared quickly.
“I was hoping that you would show me around your spot, maybe play a couple of hands of poker.”
I needed to have a look around for computers. That would give me a better idea of who had access to them. I don’t remember seeing one in J.R.’s office, but I wasn’t actually looking for one that night. I knew there had to be at least one.
I told Rain that I wanted to play poker because Black said he wouldn’t mind taking over J.R.’s gambling operation.
“Not a problem,” Rain said and stood up. I followed her, watching how her wide hips swung in the mini as she showed me around the club.
We had been all through the club and I hadn’t seen a single computer anywhere. Then we went in the back. Rain showed me the dressing rooms for the entertainment and the door to the gambling room.
“We’ll go down there in a minute.”
The next door we came to was locked, so Rain knocked.
“That door always locked?” I asked.
“Most of the time. This is Miles office.”
“That’s your brother, right?”
“Right.” A woman came to the door. “I’m not interrupting, am I?” Rain asked and walked by the woman.
“How are you doing?” I said to the woman and followed Rain in.
There was a computer on the desk.
“What’s up, Miles? There’s somebody I want you to meet.” Miles stood up and came from behind his desk.
“I’m Miles Robinson,” he said and extended his hand. By that time, the woman who opened the door was standing next to Miles. “And this is my wife, Lakeda.”
“Nick Simmons.”
Miles looked impressed. “It’s good to meet you. Heard a lot about you.”
“I was about to take Nick downstairs, but I wanted to introduce y’all before I went down there. You know how you like to run outta here. I’m surprised you’re still here,” Rain said and turned to leave. “Oh, by the way,” she turned to me. “Show them the picture, Nick.”
“Y’all ever see this woman up in here?” Rain asked as I handed Miles the picture. He looked at the picture and handed it back to me.
“No, I haven’t.”
“I didn’t think you would. Just thought I’d ask,” Rain said and headed for the door.
I looked at Miles and then at Lakeda.
“You coming?” Rain said.
“Nice meeting you both.”
Chapter 24
Mike Black
My dinner meeting with Meka Brazil turned into dinner with Meka and Wanda. When Meka mentioned that she was meeting me for dinner, Wanda invited herself to join us; which turned out to be a good thing because she told me that State Senator Martin Marshall was having a fundraiser that night, and Mr. Marshall was somebody I needed to have a conversation with.
Wanda’s presence at dinner with Meka did put an entirely different spin on the night. Especially when Meka looked at her watch and announced she was late for that evening’s conference call. She immediately slapped her Bluetooth on her ear, started punching numbers on her phone, apologized and ran out of there.
Wanda turned to me. “That’s gonna be you one day.”
“No. It’s not. I can’t ever imagine a time when I’ll become as attached to that thing as she is. I don’t have a cell phone. I don’t like being that accessible.”
“You’re already that accessible. You’re on Kevon’s phone more than he is,” Wanda said.
“That’s because you, Meka, and now Bobby call me all the time to talk about what we just talked about at the meeting.”
“Which reminds me, how did your meeting go with P Harlem?”
“How does any meeting with P go? P talked, we listened.”
Paul ‘P Harlem’ Roberts is one of the two major rapper clients that Wanda represents. The other is The One. His real name is Earl, real nice guy. Get that nigga a bag of weed and some pussy and he’s a happy man. But not P. Don’t get me wrong, he’s all for pussy and weed. P is words, P is conscience, P is anger
. That’s what his music is all about. But he’s real about it, so he says what he thinks. Sometimes it gets him in trouble.
There was an incident at a strip club in Atlanta, P was there with his whole set and they’re dropping paper like its water. Some young gangster comes in, sees P, and gets the DJ to put him on the mike. When he gets done, he comes over to P and says, “What you think?”
P says, “Somebody got to explain to me why they even let you near the mike with that weak shit,” and turns his back on the little gangster.
Shots were fired and the little gangster ends up dead. P was arrested but the case was thrown out. There were no witnesses. People could definitely say that P was there that night, but nobody saw him with a gun.
“But that ain’t his problem this time.”
“What is it now?”
“He won some award, so at the show P gets up and says he’d like to thank his record company, ‘But I can’t because they robbed me blind. These bitches want me to sing and dance, but they want me to do it for free.’ Now they won’t re-sign him.”
“I know all about it. But that’s not why they don’t want to sign him,” Wanda said.
“Why not?”
“There’s only so much of a market for what Paul does. They told him if he started calling women bitches and hoes that he’d sell more records.”
“What about them robbing him blind? Isn’t that, like, our job to see that they don’t do that?”
“All legitimate expenses incurred by Paul. The contract allowed them to subtract tour expenses from his royalties.”
“I understand now. But don’t you usually send somebody on tour with them to keep shit like this from happening?”
“I did. I sent Webster Houston.”
“What happened?”
“He said he was seduced by the dark side of the force,” Wanda said and shook her head.
“P turned him out?”
“Something about how orgies and room service go together.” Wanda looked disgusted. “So what did he want?”
“He just wanted to vent.” Actually, he wanted me to kill some A&R guy at the record company for disrespecting him. I told him that I wouldn’t kill him, but he should expect an apology.
