by Nikki Rashan
“Babe. Buddy has to go potty.” Tabitha sounded frail and scared.
“You want him to grow a damn vagina, Tabby? He’s a fucking boy. Be a fucking man and pinch it. I’ll take you in a minute. I’m on the phone,” Pete growled at them, obviously irritated. I couldn’t place his exact location in the living room or how close he was to the kid.
“Can’t pinch it no more, it hurts,” Buddy responded in a tiny little voice.
There was some shuffling and I quickly climbed into the shower, making sure to leave the dark purple curtains as close to how they appeared before I got in, with a small slit for me to peek out of.
Relief almost oozed out of my body when I saw Tabitha walking toward the bathroom holding Buddy’s hand. I waited until they were all the way inside. She was close enough for me to see bruises on her face and arms. The report said she was thirty-one but she looked so much older. Her mousy brown hair was pulled into a tight bun in the back of her head and her face was full of worry lines and creases.
“Tabitha, my name is Officer Taylor. I’m here to help you. Please stay quiet. My partner is outside the window; we can get you and Buddy out right now,” I whispered through the curtain, glad she didn’t scream at the sound of my voice.
“Mommy.” Buddy pointed, his mouth geared up to spout out number three on the top ten questions kids ask. Who’s that lady?
“Shhh. Go potty before Daddy comes in here with the spoon,” Tabitha whispered before addressing me. “He has this damn wooden spoon he’ll beat him with. What about my baby? He’s in the living room, asleep in his playpen.”
“I’ll go get the baby. But I need you to go now.”
She nodded hesitantly while helping Buddy with his pants.
“My partner is right outside the window, hurry. Get Buddy situated and out of here.” As soon as I said the words I knew the window of opportunity had passed.
“You got a camel hump to empty that I don’t know about? What’s taking so long?” Pete called out curiously as his booted footsteps clunked in our direction.
He came into view at the end of the hall, limping toward the bathroom. He was holding a twenty-gauge hunting rifle, double barrel, the kind that sprays buck shots. Chief said take him out, and the timing would be perfect. I had the element of surprise on my side. Raising my .45 I felt like a poised cobra preparing to lash out at any second. Throwing the curtain back I aimed; he was dead-on in the crosshairs of my gun. Shock registered all over his face as I pulled the trigger. The bullet exploded from the chamber.
“No! Don’t—” Tabitha’s voice was cut off as the bullet meant for her husband lodged itself in her back. She’d jumped up, throwing herself in front of Pete. Buddy and Tommy wailed. Pete raised his shotgun to return fire as Lorenzo hoisted himself through the window and grabbed Buddy to pass him through it to another officer waiting outside. I fired again from the hip not aiming because in those seconds precision wasn’t a factor, stopping him was. Pete flew backwards from the impact as he was hit square in the chest.
Kneeling down beside Tabitha I held her hand, waiting for an ambulance; and my heart was falling to pieces. Her lips were moving but I couldn’t make out any words. I leaned in closer to hear what she was saying.
“You were wrong. He loves me so much, and he’s good. Pete is so bad, the shack is bad,” Tabitha stammered. Her hand was shaking in mine as if it were below zero in the house instead of almost ninety degrees.
She took her last breath as officers burst through the front door and a feeling of dread immediately spread through my chest.
“We got a live one in here,” one of the officers called out.
I jumped to my feet and ran into the living room as they untied a middle-aged male from a chair. The right side of his head was bloody and his eye was swollen, but he seemed to otherwise be okay.
“I’m . . . I’m Peter Shaw. Where’s my boy? Where’s my son?” he stammered.
“Why don’t you have a seat and fill us in on what happened first?” One of the officers asked and Pete shakily explained what happened. “The gunshot the neighbor heard was Tabitha, shooting that summa bitch Abram in the leg, wounding him. They been screwin’ behind my back like jack rabbits for years. Where the hell is my son is he okay?” Pete was getting irritated.
Anxious for him to get on with his story I explained,” Buddy’s getting checked out by one of our EMT’s they’ll bring him in when they’re done.”
Satisfied with my answer his piercing blue eyes seemed to lose focus as he continued to relive and remember his story.
“Abram had been pretending to be me on the line with y’all this entire time. I heard them planning the ending of me like I won’t even here. Like, I hadn’t given that woman every single thing she owns.” He stopped and cried quietly for a moment. I locked eyes with a few officers who looked down and away out of respect as we waited for him to pull himself together.
“He was going to lie on the floor and act unconscious and she was supposed to untie, shoot, and kill me seconds before yall barged in. My death was the only way she could collect on the insurance and still live happily ever after with him.”
I quickly left the scene, suddenly saddened and disgusted at trying to even comfort that woman in her last moments.
Back in the squad car with the AC pointed directly at my face, I laid my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes to shut in the tears. Lorenzo climbed in and set a cold bottle of water in my lap.
“You did an excellent job back there, Al. The chief gave us the rest of the day off. Don’t beat yourself up over this. You can’t help if she sacrificed herself or tried to set that shit up.”
“I could have delayed firing, or aimed lower, wounded her instead of killing her in front of her son. Then maybe we’d have at least one fucking person to take in, instead of two bodies.”
Grabbing my phone from the glove compartment I dialed my husband’s number.
“Hello, my love,” he cooed in my ear.
My eyes watered instantly at the soothing sound of his voice in my ear. “Hey, sweetheart, can you come home? I need you.” My voice cracked. “I killed a woman in front of her son today.”
“Oh my God. Are you okay, Alicia? You’re not hurt are you?”
“No. I mean, yes, I’m okay. I’m not hurt just really, really upset right now.”
“Ah. Baby, I’ve got a deposition to prepare for. We have a huge case coming up. I’m meeting Brandon in an hour at P.F. Chang’s in Town Center. I’ll be home right after that. Promise, okay?”
“I thought he was like your archenemy on cases or something. You know what? Never mind. Bye.” I hung up without waiting for him to say good-bye back.
My marriage to Davin was nothing like I’d imagined at times. His job always seemed to come first if it wasn’t life or death; my life or death to be more specific.
“Lo, Davin says he’s meeting someone at P.F. Chang’s to go over a deposition.” I’d managed to ask the question in the back of my mind without actually asking it.
“You can’t talk about something like that in public,” Lo replied matter-of-factly, shaking his head and twisting his mouth up.
“That’s what I thought.”
“Is everything okay between you two? I mean shit, you just called your man about taking someone’s life and literally got brushed off.”
I took a deep breath and said, “Can you do me a favor? I can’t use a squad car because he’d notice it and I can’t use mine.”
“Now, I’m used to women asking, you know, to get all up in the back seat of the Pimp Mobile and yada yada. But are you asking to use it for a stakeout?”
He was smiling at me mischievously, but that was exactly what I was asking. After what I’d been through today, Davin should have come up with a better excuse if he wanted to blow me off for an early dinner date.
After taking a quick cold shower in the station locker room and changing back into my civilian clothes it wasn’t long before we were sitting across
the street from P.F. Chang’s.
I decided to make small talk to help pass the time. “Have you heard anything about where they’re going to place the Sherman Case?”
Sherman & Waltman was a multimillion dollar investment company that had gotten robbed a few days earlier. Nothing was taken except several hard drives. One held a shitload of hot stock profiles and the others held every banking, checking, and credit card account for every one of their clients.
“Al, you did not hear this from me.” Lorenzo looked around as if someone outside might hear us inside the car. “They were saying if we can get one or two more busts after the one like today it might be us.”
“Yeah, right! Good joke. That would be like you actually getting ass in this car, Lo.” I couldn’t keep the laughter out of my voice.
“Woman, this is a 1987 Cutlass Supreme. My baby is a classic like Coca-Cola; that’s why she’s red.”
I couldn’t help laughing at him then. He was so damn serious, rubbing his hands all across the dashboard, making kissy faces.
“She’s like you, mi hermosa. A classic.” His voice was a low, sultry whisper.
“What’s that supposed to mea . . .” The words caught in my throat and shock must have been written all over my face because Lorenzo turned in time to see Davin. He was walking toward the restaurant. But, with the way his arm was draped around the hips of the woman he was walking beside, I highly doubted that was Brandon. Before I could even think about what I was doing, I was out of the car and across the street.
“Who the fuck is this? This is Brandon? Is Brandon a Tranny? Why you got your arm around this bitch? This doesn’t look like Brandon to me, Davin!” I slapped Davin on the back of his head. Tears were running down my face, streaking my eyeliner.
Davin jumped and spun around, throwing his hands up as if he were being robbed. People on the street stopped and stared; some of them pulled out their camera phones.
“Bitch? Who the hell are you calling a bitch?” She-man aka his date began to storm toward me. I reached into the back waistband of my pants and pulled out my personal .45. They always keep your service weapon at the station after it’s been involved in a shooting. They gave me a pamphlet that mentioned something about, de-stressing and psychological kill switches. I didn’t read it. I never leave home without a gun and a backup gun. Period.
“Davin, get her in check before I kill her.”
“Alicia. What the hell are you doing here? This is my client. We are meeting Brandon. He’s inside.”
Lorenzo ran over and grabbed me around the waist. He picked me up, spun around, and was carrying me back toward the car before I could say or do anything.
“Now is not the time, Al. You have a career to consider. He ain’t worth this shit.”
Lorenzo dropped me off at my car and I drove the entire way home in silence. There was enough chatter in my head to keep me company on the ride. Davin hadn’t been answering my calls all afternoon and here it was going on eight and he still wasn’t home. Even though I was tired and drained there was no way I could lie in our bed not knowing what or who might have been in it. I was sitting on the couch when he walked in.
“I guess you had a good pre-deposition?” My voice was cold and dry.
He accidentally dropped his keys, quickly spinning around at the sound of my voice. “I didn’t think you were home. Why are you sitting up in here in the dark?” Davin asked as he stared at me cautiously, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dark.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I had the honor of killing two people today. And it’s shocking because I feel really bad even though my badge means I don’t get in any trouble. I’m learning that killing people isn’t hard. Maybe because right now I’m staring at my husband who hasn’t been answering my calls all day . . . who I saw at P.F. Chang’s with another woman and I’m thinking about killing again.” I sat, unmoving, my eyes silently burning angry holes into every inch of his body.
His eyes finally adjusted and widened as they moved to my pistol sitting in front of me on the coffee table. A sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. “Wh . . . what are you talking about? You were wrong for coming up there like that, Alicia. That was a very important daughter of a client I’m trying to persuade to take the witness stand. You almost scared her off and that could’ve cost me more than you’ll ever know.”
“You think real hard about that lie you’re telling me.” My voice was emotionless as stone and cold as the tile floor he was standing on.
He walked over cautiously and kneeled in front of me. “Alicia, you are my heart and soul. Baby, I need her as a witness. I also need the witness there in order to go over the questions that the defense is going to ask her. We spend enough time in our offices and courtrooms I thought it’d be a nice break. Brandon was already inside when we got there.”
His forehead creased in a tight frown; then he asked, “Are you spying on me?” He spat the word “spying” out as if it tasted bad in his mouth.
“Just today, yes. Your story was suspicious. You know what I went through with my ex.”
“Baby, I’ve told you over and over I’m not your ex, remember? Not everyone is bad.” He kissed me softly before standing and pulling me up into his arms.
My guard dropped and I inhaled his warm, musky, masculine scent. “Mmm. You smell good. You started wearing your Armani again. I love it.” Burying my face into his neck I kissed the letters “I’m sorry” into his warm, smooth skin.
He moaned quietly before stopping me. “Don’t get me started, woman. You know I’ve got to be up early and you should be getting up to work out.” He looked down at me seriously.
“Or my husband can work me out,” I answered, giving him my best coy look while batting my lashes.
“I’m serious. You’ve been getting lax and your safety is contingent upon your reaction time and your fitness. Now, you know I love you more than anything.” He waited, as was his custom.
Disappointed, I sighed and kissed his waiting lips. “I love you too, baby I’ll weigh myself tomorrow.”
Chapter 6
My Blood Brother
Long holiday weekends always bring out the freaks and the drama. Eleven p.m. on the Fourth of July weekend and I was stuck working the back end of a double shift on a Saturday night.
“Unit 440, we have a disturbance in Town Center at the Westin Hotel.”
My police radio had been going off nonstop all damn day. It was that time of year when people drank way too much and between the illegal fireworks and barbecue fistfights my hands were full. I was sitting in front of a 7-Eleven while my partner refilled our coffee mugs inside.
“Ten-four. It’s not like I have anything better to do. Shoot me the details.”
My tone was overly sarcastic, but this late in the night I really didn’t care how Liddy, the operator, took it. She’d been giving me attitude since the day she found out my husband was a criminal defense attorney. He was one of the most successful and well-respected men in Hampton Roads. Sexy, intelligent, and wealthy, yet none of that mattered at the precinct once people found out who he was and what he did.
The defense attorney’s main purpose was to do the exact opposite of what we did as cops. They represented the criminally charged to try to get them a fair trial. Sometimes justice was served and sometimes you had very guilty and very dangerous people who walked away unpunished because of men like my husband.
“The hotel owner called in a fight on the eighteenth floor. We have a black male fighting loudly with two black females. Hotel security has them detained.”
“Copy that, we’re on our way.”
Lorenzo got in the car just in time for me to put on the lights and siren. “Damn, another one?” He was irritated. We hadn’t gotten a break all night.
“Now, my dear, dear man, you know I’m always Liddy’s favorite. At least it’s making the night go by.”
I flashed him a smirk as I hit the gas, wheeling our older-model 2011 Impala out of th
e parking lot. Recent cutbacks had our squadron last on the list to get the newer Camaros everyone else was flying around the city in. I made it a point to drive our piece of shit like a stolen rental car every chance I got. Maybe if the wheels fell off or the transmission exploded, the commissioner would finally get up off of some money.
Town Center was the social hub of Virginia Beach. There were bars and chic restaurants all over the place. Restaurant patios were crowded with rowdy twenty- and thirty-something’s enjoying the summer nightlife. We were making our way into the entrance of the hotel when something prompted me to look around. Nothing seemed out of place; couples were spaced out here and there enjoying the night. Armani For Him drifted toward me on a warm breeze and I immediately thought of my husband and smiled; it used to be one his favorite colognes. He was working late tonight too, stuck on an important case.
“Lo, can you go inside and handle this? I need to make a call real quick.”
“Sure thing. They’re all in the security office. Shouldn’t be much to deal with.” Even if it was a hostile situation I was pretty sure once they saw all 284 pounds of Lorenzo’s six foot four inch Dominican frame coming, shit would die down.
I stood outside and dialed my husband’s number. There were still trust issues on my side of the situation, and if he didn’t answer in so many rings best believe we’d be swinging past his damn office. Leaning up against a pillar I tried to take some pressure off my feet. I’d only been out of the academy and in a squad car for a year and the shoes just seemed like they’d never feel right on my feet.
“Hello, my beautiful one.” His voice was deep and quiet.
I could almost hear the smile in his tone. “Hello, handsome. I was just thinking about you. My night has been pure hell.”
I glanced up, distracted as two young girls strolled past me holding hands. They were laughing, leaning into each other. I was secretly envious. Overhead locusts buzzed loudly in the few trees that lined the streets. Even from here I could smell the mouthwatering waffle cake batter and homemade chocolate sauce, indicating that the Häagen-Dazs parlor two blocks over was making fresh waffle cones. All the sounds and smells mingling with the salt-tinged ocean air were making me nostalgic to have my man with me.
