by Angela Henry
“You want me to make him jealous?” Rhonda reddened slightly.
“I’m not saying go out and be a ho’. Just be good to yourself. It won’t kill him to wonder where you’re going looking like a million bucks and who you’re going to be with for a change.”
“And how does doing all that help me get him back?”
“When he sees you living it up without him, trust me. He’ll notice.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Rhonda said slowly. “Thanks Rosetta.” We watched Rhonda walk back into the classroom and the custodian looked at me and shook her head.
“Personally, I never could stand a cheat. But it’s her life.”
When lunchtime came, I glanced out the classroom window to see the police cruiser still parked in the lot below. I’d been surprised that officers Bridges and Sims, as they’d introduced themselves, didn’t stand guard outside the classroom. Instead, they both patrolled the hallway outside my classroom every half hour or so and sat in their cruiser in between. I had two hours before the afternoon session started and needed to get to the hospital to see Lewis alone. The officers had just done their round, so I had time to get slip out the back entrance of the building. I couldn’t take my car. They’d see me. Fortunately, the city bus had just stopped at the corner and I ran to catch it.
The bus let me off at the front entrance of the hospital; I was in such a hurry to get inside I ran right into the woman coming out. It was Lewis’s landlady, Esther Wade. I almost didn’t recognize her as she was dressed down in a nondescript hooded tan coat with her hair concealed under a black beret. Large black sunglasses obscured half her face. It was her Chanel #5 that made me realize it was her. But after mumbling an apology she proceeded to walk right past me, apparently not recognizing me.
“Ms. Wade?” I called out. She didn’t reply. I assumed she hadn’t heard me and was just going to let her go given that I was in a hurry myself. But I noticed she’d dropped her black cashmere scarf and ran to catch up with her, calling her name the entire time. She didn’t stop until I tapped her shoulder and then whirled around giving me such a fierce look, I flinched.
“May I help you?” she asked, looking highly annoyed. However, once she finally recognized me her entire demeanor changed, and a sheepish smile broke out across her face, instantly transforming it.
“I’m sorry to bother you. But you dropped your scarf.” I handed it to her, and she took it, looking more than a little embarrassed.
“Oh, thank goodness. It was a gift from my husband, and I’d have been very upset if I’d lost it. I’ve already misplaced a very expensive gift he gave me,” she replied in her husky voice. She expertly wound the scarf around her neck, so the long ends trailed down her back.
“No problem. I was just glad I caught up with you.” She was smiling but glanced over her shoulder at a sleek black Mercedes parked in the lot behind us, obviously ready to go. Man, I was in the wrong line of work. I didn’t know being an apartment manager paid enough to afford a car like that.
“I need to get going. But, thank you again.” I got the distinct impression that although my face was familiar to her, she had no idea how she knew me, let alone my name. But then again we’d only met twice.
“Do the police have any idea who pulled the drive-by last night?”
“If they do, I’m afraid they haven’t bothered to tell me.”
“Do you have any idea who could have done it?”
“Me? Why would I know anything about a drive-by shooting?”
“Oh…well,” I began, taking a step closer to her, when I realized she kept inching away. If I didn’t know any better I’d think she was trying to get away from me in particular. “It’s just that I heard it could have been drug-related as there was a known drug dealer in the group of young men hanging out in front of the building. Someone named Tariq Dixon. Do you know him? Did anyone in your building know him?” I still had a hard time believing that Lewis got bailed out of jail and shortly thereafter was shot and almost killed.
“Let me be very clear, my dear.” She took a step closer to me and although she was still smiling there was something hard in her eyes. “I do not know anything about what happened last night. I may be the manager, but I don’t know everything or see everything that goes on in my building. I’m sorry about what happened to Mr. Watts. I actually tried to see him while I was here, but he already had visitors and I wasn’t able to stay. Now, if you’ll please excuse me, I really must be going.” She hurried off and I stared after her, feeling a little bit bad for interrogating her when she looked so stressed out. But only a little bit.
The nurse staffing the nurse’s station in ICU told me that patients in ICU were only allowed two visitors at a time, and Lewis already had two people in the room with him, verifying what Esther Wade had told me. I’d have to wait. Reluctantly, I went over to the small waiting room opposite the nurse’s station to wait my turn and hoped whoever was in there with him would be gone soon. It had taken me twenty minutes to get to the hospital by bus and I had about an hour before I’d have to leave and catch the bus back to work. I could have called and left a message that I’d be late back from lunch but things between Rhonda and me had calmed down and I didn’t want ruin our tentative truce.
I was flipping through a People magazine when I heard a familiar voice coming down the hall and quickly lifted the magazine to cover my face. It was Mason. I assumed he’d been heading straight to the hospital after dropping me off to pick up my car that morning. I was wrong. Peering over the top of the magazine I could see him on his cell phone, one hand on his hip and the other clutching his phone, with his back to the waiting room. His stiff body language told me that he was not happy. Then I heard my name and my ears perked up.
“What do you mean you lost Kendra? Did you search the entire building?” There was a pause and then, “You guys had one job to do,” he hissed into the phone. “Find her or your next job as a cop will have the word mall in front of it.”
Great. I thought I’d have a little more time before they noticed I was gone. Now I’d gotten those poor cops in trouble. I could have felt bad about that, but who the hell gets assigned to watch someone and doesn’t watch the back door? Amateurs. Mason angrily jabbed at the buttons on his cell phone and suddenly I realized what he was doing. I barely had time to drop my magazine and jump up and duck behind the nearest pillar before my cell phone started ringing in my purse. I slid a hand inside and silenced it before it could ring again. I glanced around the pillar to see Mason pacing in front of the nurse’s station listening to my phone ring and looking angrier by the second. Then Jess appeared from the direction of Lewis’s room and gave him an annoyed look and rolled her eyes before tapping him on the back and gesturing back down the hall.
“Are we gonna do this, Mason, or are you going to waste more time chasing after that flake? Harmon warned us about her, remember?”
Flake? Was she talking about me? Well, of course she was. And I should have known when her attitude towards me changed after our initial meeting that something had happened. Trish Harmon was still a burr in my behind even when she was no longer a detective. Blood pounded in my ears and it took everything in me not to…to…to what? Beat her ass? No, because she was a cop and could wipe the floor with me. Plus, she had a gun. But I vowed if I was ever in Mason’s apartment again to clean his toilet with her purple toothbrush. If that was indeed her toothbrush because what he told her next put her status as his boo into question.
“The last time I looked this so-called flake’s life has been at risk…what? Three times? Kendra Clayton is under the protection of the Willow Police department. Got it?”
“But it if she’d just mind—” she began. But he cut her off.
“Detective Lawrence, how long have you been a homicide detective?” Uh oh, I recognized this technique from last night. Jess chewed her lower lip before answering.
“Two months.”
“Two months what?” He cupped his ear turning
it to her to hear her better.
“Two months, sir.”
“And don’t you ever forget it.” After putting her in her place, and making himself even hotter if that was at all possible, Mason turned on his heel and headed back into Lewis’s room, leaving a crestfallen-looking Jess looking after him with a mixture of hurt and regret on her face. Wow. She really did have a thing for him. I’d almost feel sorry for her if it wasn’t for that whole her calling me a flake thing.
I should have just left, as I now had about forty-five minutes left of my lunch hour. But while I am in no way a flake, I am most definitely nosy, which I freely admit. So, when Jess disappeared down the hall, I waited a few more minutes and headed down the hall myself until I got to Lewis’s hospital room. Pushing his door open a crack, I leaned closer to listen.
“I thought you said he was awake?” Mason sounded annoyed.
“Well, he was a few minutes ago. But you were out in the hallway on your phone, sir.” If Mason was bothered by her sarcasm, he didn’t show it.
“We’ll come back later. What room is Tarik Dixon in?”
“He discharged himself against doctor’s orders this morning. He’s at his girlfriend’s house.”
Their voices sounded closer and I quickly let the door close and hot-footed it across the hall and into the stairwell and watched as they headed off down the hall. I rushed into Lewis’s room. I didn’t have a lot of time, but I wasn’t prepared for the sight in the bed in front of me.
Since I’d last seen him, Lewis looked like he’d not only shrunk but had also aged twenty years. His skin was ashen, and his hair, devoid of his usual wig, was almost pure white. Scruffy looking stubble dotted his cheeks. IV bags of plasma, saline, and some other clear liquid I couldn’t identify hung on poles next to his bed. He was shirtless, with a large bandage covering his right shoulder and wrapping around his upper torso. Lewis was asleep and his chest rose and fell in time to the beep of the heart monitor he was hooked up to. This was a far cry from the Lewis I was used to—the loud, arrogant, fashion- challenged man stuck in a seventies time warp. He looked so small and old and vulnerable. Impulsively, I bent down and kissed his cheek. Bloodshot eyes fluttered open and a smirk lifted one corner of his mouth.
“Always knew you wanted me.” His words came out thick and slurred.
“You big faker. Were you awake this whole time? Even when Detective Mason and his partner were here?”
“Not the entire time. But that female cop kept talkin’ at me all loud. Yellin’ in my ear. Hell, Kelly, I got shot. I didn’t lose my hearing. So, when she left the room, I pretended to go back to sleep. Besides, I ain’t got a thing to say to no cops anyway. The last time I talked to the cops, I got labeled a snitch. I ain’t goin’ out like that again.” I could care less whether he talked to Mason or not. I needed him to talk to me.
“How bad does it hurt?” I sat down in the chair next to his bed.
“Hurt? Girl, I’m high as a kite. Nurse came in this mornin’ and asked me what my level of pain was on a scale of one to ten, ten being the most pain. My pain was a four. I told her it was an eleven, ’cause I wanted that good shit.” He broke into a benign grin and looked so relaxed and serene I was tempted to ask if he had any more.
“I ran into Ms. Wade, in the lobby. She tried to come see you but you had visitors.”
“Ms. Wade?” he echoed. His face was screwed up in confusion, “Ms. Wade’s in Florida ’til the end of the month.” Huh? I’d clearly seen and spoken to the woman not ten minutes ago. Lewis really must be high.
“Joyce Kirkland was the one who bailed you out.”
“I figured as much.” He shook his head but otherwise looked unbothered.
“She also hired you a heavy hitter out of Columbus to represent you.” That seemed to get more of a response; his eyebrows furrowed in surprise.
“Aw, hell no, Kelly. I can’t be lettin’ no woman pay ol’ Lewis’s way. I’m a man.”
“No woman, or just Joyce?”
“Especially Joyce. I’m the one who needs to be lookin’ out for her. I knew as soon as that mofo got outta prison, he’d be dangling that mess from the night Otis died over her head. Blackmailing her. He was an evil bastard, Kelly, and I’m glad he’s dead. But I didn’t kill him. Wish I had though. Someone else beat me to it.”
“What was he blackmailing her about, Lewis? Did she do something?” Lewis’s eyes slowly got big and he must have realized he’d said something he shouldn’t have. Then his eyes slowly closed, and he started snoring softly.
“You aren’t fooling me one bit,” I whispered into his ear. “But don’t worry. I’ll be back tonight.” When I got to the door to his room he started mumbling like he was talking in his sleep.
“Sharon…snore…Newcastle…snore…still need…snore…lawyer…” he concluded with a long loud snore.
“Whatever.”
I was a few feet away from the bus stop when Mason’s car pulled up to the curb and he got out, looking beyond pissed, to hold the door open for me. I got in the car and immediately went on the defensive.
“I’m well within my rights to go out to lunch, Detective Mason.”
“And lunch just happened to be in the same hospital a murder suspect was admitted with gunshot wounds last night, after I asked, in what I thought was a very polite way, not to interfere in my case.”
“You weren’t polite. You yelled at me. And I thought we’d already established that he couldn’t have left that cleaver in my car and he had no reason to trash Mama’s house or cut my break line,” I reasoned.
“I know that now for a fact. I’m not protecting you from Lewis. I’m protecting you from your own stupidity…oh, and this guy.” Mason reached into the backseat and pulled a manila file folder out of a leather messenger bag and tossed it on my lap. I flipped the file opened and let out a gasp.
“Sam!” A black and white photo of my Web of Love date, Sam Pierson, stared up at me from a mug shot. Except his name wasn’t Sam Pierson. It was Dwayne Roper, and he had a rap sheet a mile long that included theft, fraud, embezzlement, blackmail, stalking, and criminal menacing.
“Our computer system was down for a day last week and we had a huge backlog. The prints from your grandmother’s house, your car, and the cleaver were run through the system this morning and matched Mr. Roper. He a friend of yours?”
“A friend? No!” I exclaimed a little too loudly. “We went out a few times. On our last date we mutually agreed it wasn’t going to work out and I haven’t heard from him since.” I couldn’t believe I’d gone out with a criminal and almost slept with him! And, now he was trying to kill me? Why? Was it because I’d sexually rejected him? I’m sure having a case of blue balls wasn’t fun for him. But I didn’t deserve to die for it.
“Well, he’s got some kind of vendetta against you, Kendra. Can you think of any reason at all that he’d be targeting you like this?”
“I have no idea. Obviously, he’s a nut job. It says he was arrested for stalking. Doesn’t that mean he’s done this to other women?”
“Most likely,” he replied, fixing me with a laser stare. “How’d you meet this guy?”
“Blind date.” There was no way in hell I was going to tell Mason that I’d met him through an online dating site and almost slept with this guy. I scanned back to all three of our dates, trying to figure out what else I could have done to make him want to kill me and except for being too polite, in his opinion, I came up empty.
“Stalking and attempted murder are hardly the same thing, Kendra. His prints turned up on the cleaver in your rental car, and at your grandmother’s house. His hand print was on the underside of your car from when he must have cut your brake line. And you’re sure you have no idea what this about?”
“No clue,” I said, shrugging, then a moment of panic gripped me. Sam had been in Mama’s house that night. Could that be why his prints had turned up?
My mind scanned back over just where he’d been in the house and what he
could have touched. I remembered opening the front door and inviting him in. I’d taken his coat and tossed it on the coat stand by the front door and missed. It had landed on the floor. We’d gone upstairs and into the bedroom and kissed and fumbled with our clothes as we fell onto the bed. I honestly didn’t remember him touching anything except me. After I’d asked him to leave, he’d angrily put his underwear, pants, shoes and socks on and was tugging his sweater on over his head as he cursed his way back down the steps. He grabbed his coat from the floor as I held the door open for him. He hadn’t touched anything else. I let out a sigh of relief. If his prints were in Mama’s house, it was because he’d been the one to break in and trash the place.
“Kendra, you okay?” Mason touched my arm, and the electric warmth of his hand snapped me back to the present.
“I’m good. Have you arrested him?”
“He’s not at his last known address. But we’re tracking him down as we speak, which is why you really need to quit ditching the officers I’ve assigned to protect you and running off on your own.”
“Okay, okay, I won’t do it again.” It was lie and think we both knew it. But at this exact moment I meant it. But the real question was why? Why was I still trying to help Lewis when I needed to be helping myself by laying low until they caught this idiot? I should be talking Lewis into letting the lawyer out of Columbus represent him instead of relying on me and Sharon Newcastle. But I already knew the answer. Despite everything, and as annoying as I still found him, I felt bad for Lewis and didn’t think he was guilty, at least not of murder. He needed all the help he could get.
“I’m serious, Kendra. This guy is a nasty piece of work. Got his start at sixteen following hookers, taking pictures, and then blackmailing their johns. He just escalated from there.”
“I get it. Now, can you drop me off at work? Please,” I added when he continued to stare at me unsmiling.
Something Mason had said about Sam, aka Dwayne, had been gnawing at the back of my mind all afternoon at work. It was what he’d told me about Dwayne Roper getting his start by blackmailing the johns of hookers. It got me to thinking about the ledger and the murder of Constance Newcastle. She’d died in a robbery when her husband had been out of town. Her husband, Charles Newcastle, was a client of a hooker named Diamond and been listed in the ledger. So, what about the other men listed in there? Had they been robbed, too? Is this what Pinky Buford had been talking about when he’d said there was no honor amongst thieves. I guess there was only one way to find out. I bought a box of chocolate cream-filled doughnuts and gave it to the two cops assigned to guard me as an apology for giving them the slip and told them I needed to go visit my uncle in the nursing home. I had no problem when they insisted on following me. I waved to them as I headed inside, relieved that they were too busy chowing down on doughnuts to come inside with me.
