by Tiana Laveen
“I’m not outrageous, Thomas.” Phoenix circled the rim of his empty glass with the tip of his finger. “I do what others want to do but can’t pull off. Look, I don’t have much time so if you’re going to apprehend me, make a citizen’s arrest if you will for disobeying your orders regarding coming to Chicago, let’s just do that so I can call my attorney, get out in twenty-four hours, and have my ass right back here where we started.”
Thomas burst out laughing and shook his head. “You’ve got some serious audacity, man. You make me laugh, Hale. But,” he said, tossing up his hands in resignation, “you’re damn good at what you do. I can’t take that away from you. I … uh … pulled some strings and said that business at the hospital was part of a takedown. That’ll require at least a week’s worth of paperwork to back up, postdated of course. You think you can handle that?”
Phoenix gave a toothy grin. “Yeah, I think I can handle that…” They sat quietly for a moment, their only company the sounds of the television and a few other hotel guests and patrons milling about in the posh, beautifully decorated place.
“Let me ask you something, and I hope you don’t mind me asking?” Thomas shifted his body on the bar stool, shooting him a look out the corner of his eye, his black brow raised.
“What is it?”
“For all of these long, grueling years that I’ve known you, tell me what is going on here?”
“What? Tiffany?”
“Yes. Don’t get me wrong, I saw her. I definitely see the appeal.” He licked his lower lip. “She’s a knockout. I can see the physical draw. But, you know her background. It’s a far cry from supercalifragilisticexpialidocious… Drug dealing, robberies, obstruction, the list goes on man. She’s devious, shrewd and, according to our research, she has violent tendencies. Are you trying die at her hands, or something else? Is the pussy really that good?”
Phoenix chuckled at the man’s words.
“Yeah, it’s that good … but Thomas, I don’t really expect you to understand.” They both drew serious. “She’s so much more than your little research could come up with. She’s an angel, but she’s got demons, too.” He shrugged, took out his wallet, and paid for his drink. “We all do though, don’t we? Wasn’t Satan once an archangel? People fall from grace. It doesn’t mean they have to stay that way…” He winked at the man and got to his feet, then tapped Thomas on the shoulder. “I’m going to get going. Thank you for your help. I really appreciate it.” The man nodded with hooded eyes, his semi-intoxication showing more than ever.
Phoenix turned to walk away, then paused when Thomas called out to him.
“Hale!”
“Yeah?”
“There’s a classified report that just came out regarding a bullet that was just found at the crime scene… matches the ones in John Price’s autopsy report. You might find that information in a little white bin … you might not.” He smacked his lips and smirked as he downed the rest of his third drink. “But you haven’t heard shit from me…”
Tiffany waited nervously in her cell to receive news of her mystery visitor, who was due to arrive shortly. She’d be transported to Division 3 of the jail for her appointment with the stranger. She’d been in a daze, and the staff claimed to be oblivious to what was going on.
Jail smelled like old piss and stagnant water most days. The cot was thin, and she had a hard time getting her mind off things. She was kept in isolation due to the nature of the crime but that didn’t stop the rumors. Most days she remained in her cell, sleeping or reading to pass the time. Phoenix had given explicit instructions to not call him; he’d initiate all of the communication. She missed the hell out of him, and not hearing from him for days on end was killing her.
This time, however, she refused to push the issue or deviate from what he asked her to do. She’d learned that lesson the hard way. Every time she exited her cell to make a phone call or speak to her lawyer, she had to go through the inmate populated areas. Two guards would walk her to her destination, but on the way, she could hear the women whispering, see them pointing and delighting in her misfortune. Regardless, no one had attempted to step to her; not one person had said a direct word to provoke her. A part of her itched to knock their fucking heads off, but another part of her wished to just be left alone, in peace and quiet. They weren’t making it easy.
One morning, she woke up to find a sanitary pad jammed in her cell, the words ‘Ur Dead Girl’ written in blood on it. While all this went on, Mama had called and told her all about Aunt Shirley’s funeral. It had taken everything within her to not fall apart. The event had been big and lavish, with all the bells and whistles, and the woman had been laid to rest in style.
She glanced up at the clock, making a mental note that in an hour she’d be seeing someone. Perhaps it was Dad? After the shit hit the fan, he’d refused to speak to her… No, maybe Cora?
She bet not bring her tired, funky ass down here… I will strangle her to death, finish what I started.
Raking her fingers through her hair, she dreamed and prayed and wished. Slowly closing her eyes, she rocked back and forth and disappeared within herself, daydreaming in a land of make believe.
I’m a Queen, with a King who’s a dragon. He found out my secret. I’m no beautiful lady after all. I’m a Black Butterfly, made out of the ashes of the dead, the deepest part of the ocean and the heat of demon breath. In my hand I hold a little white rose, but it looks red because it’s covered in blood. My blood. The queen is now exposed for what she truly is, with no jeweled fortress to block the view, no rich, opulent castle to call home. No, she stands naked before the hands of time. I will not run and hide, try to cover myself. I will stand here, once and for all, and show the world what I REALLY am….
“No, Rick.” Phoenix sat in the back of the taxi on his way to the Cook County Department of Corrections. “It’s not an actual white bin. The file is called ‘White Bin’. I need you to find it.”
“Oh … he was using code. Okay, got it.” The man started typing. Outside the cab window, the morning buzz of activity started on the streets. “When I locate the files, do you want me to email them to you?”
“No. Send it overnight on a thumb drive.”
“All right. Anything else, sir?”
“Yes. I’ve had two meetings this morning—one with the senator and one with two judges. I am not certain what, if anything, will become of those meetings, but I made it clear about the racial divide regarding punishment when it comes to drug convictions and murder offenses. One of the judges is also up for re-election.”
“Idris.”
“Correct. I put a little bug in their ear about Tiffany, too—wormed it in like it was secondary to my actual visit, but I need that murder weapon, Rick. They can’t sweep the river today—it’s too cold—but the evidence shows he had more than one. We’ve got to find out what happened to it.” River glanced down at his watch. “Call me when you find out anything.”
“Will do.” He disconnected the call. Looking out the window, he instinctively grinded his teeth and cracked his knuckles. People moved around the city, living their day-to-day lives. The cab paused at a red light and he took note of an interracial couple. The woman was Black, and the man, who held her hand, White. They had big smiles on their faces as they pushed a baby stroller along. His heart beat faster at that sight. Something so natural felt suddenly so rare, so out of reach. Here he was, envied by so many, enjoying a high-ranking position, an exciting life behind closed doors, and more money than he could ever spend, but he’d do almost anything to feel how that couple felt. To experience the freedom they had to simply be. He turned away and tried to relax, but his thoughts returned, refusing to turn him loose.
I want her to have a normal life, but I’m not a normal man, and she’s not a normal woman. I’ve done so much to protect my lifestyle; I’ve kept so many out. I love her so much, it’s tearing me apart. She’s strong though, and we’re even stronger together. I need a miracle. I need some gasoline
to help me keep a firm grasp on this fiery hope. I’ve spent the last twenty years chasing drug dealers. But, all this time, love was chasing the dragon. And now … I’ve been caught…
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
She’d known he was there from the moment she was shackled and taken to her cell…
The men’s division of the jail housed guys who were in for everything from stealing a toothbrush from the local Walmart to bludgeoning their mother to death over not receiving the keys to the family car. It was a crap shoot as everyone awaited their arraignments. Gable was one of many, but his energy could be felt, no matter how far apart they were. It was clear he’d delighted in her capture, and was pissed that she was kept in seclusion, just like himself. Word on the street was that he’d requested to be in general population, but was denied. She laughed mirthlessly as she came to the understanding that the stupid bastard now felt safe—as if he could walk about the compound and no one would do him harm.
“Tiffany, your visitor is here.” She set aside the book she was reading, ‘The Alchemist’ by Paulo Coelho, got up from her bed, and walked towards the guard. Extending her wrists, she let the short, squatty woman handcuff her and lead her to Division 3, as planned. As they neared the common area, she gasped, elation filling her like a goblet. Phoenix stood waiting in a long black coat over a crisp white shirt and black slacks. The smile on his face lit her fire as she made a mad dash to him.
“Phoenix!” She sat down in the chair opposite him, with the guard standing close by. “Oh my God, you’re here. I’m so happy to see you!” She reached for his hands, but he pulled them back and vehemently shook his head, throwing a side glance at the guard that was staring daggers into them. He gave a faint smile.
“Oh yeah, that’s right.” She lowered her head for a spell, hating that she couldn’t touch him, hug him, feel his kiss.
“I understand you and Jane are putting together a good case? Are you satisfied with her performance?”
“Yes. She seems to really know her stuff and is optimistic. Thank you for hiring her on my behalf.”
“Good. Baby, I have a short amount of time this morning so I want you to know what’s happened thus far. I’ve spoken to Gable and—”
“Gable?” Her heart started to race.
“Yes, just a friendly little visit…” He shot the guard a glance, then faced her again. Tiffany’s entire body warmed as she stared at the man before her. So many questions…
“I’m glad you came by. Phoenix, you know how I feel about my family.”
“You love them. You’re loyal.”
“Well, loyalty has an expiration date when someone has fucked you over, for the final damn time.” Her eyes narrowed on him as she leaned forward. “There’s something I need to tell you. Not until I was actually arrested and all that bullshit at the hospital did I want to take it to this level, but this mothafucka needs to get what he has comin’ to him and I am ready to put things in motion.” The guard’s walkie talkie buzzed, and she took several steps away to answer the call, allowing them unexpected privacy.
“What do you know?” he asked in a whisper.
“First of all, I am certain Gable gave my crackhead cousin the key to my damn house. He knew if he ever got caught, he was going to put this all on me. Cora has access to my home. That’s how it got ransacked after you took me away. That’s not what I actually had to tell you, but it ties into this story. Now, this may or may not help, but I have a feeling it is worth stating.”
“Any little you know could help so please, I’m all ears.” He leaned back in his chair, a serious look on his face.
“Okay. I’m an information hoarder, Phoenix. I keep everything, and I don’t place these ‘bits of data’,” she stated, putting her fingers up in quotes signs, “all in the same spot. For instance, in my store I have one of my favorite guitars. It’s black, with roses painted all over it, and it came from Spain. The instrument hangs from the ceiling, as a decoration. Inside of it is all of the gun receipts—weapons … artillery … everything.”
The man’s blue eyes flashed with obvious exhilaration. “Go on…”
“The gun Gable had that night, the one you told me couldn’t be found, well, he purchased it himself. I was the record keeper, and I kept all our receipts and an inventory of everything we had. I also have a video clip of him playing with that gun right after he got it, admiring it. It was a Sturm 9 millimeter, and it was unique in the sense that it had special markings on it. If it is ever discovered, I’ve never touched it. But it was his favorite and I’ve got evidence to prove it.”
“Son … of … uh … bitch!” He laughed heartily. “Oh yeah. This definitely helps and you’re right on time with that confession. I am going to pull the ballistic records. By the way, one of the bullets used on the scene was found and catalogued in another database. The FBI were in the process of doing a comparison. The results are not yet in, but it’s being expedited. Where can I find the video at?”
“Look in my iCloud. I’ll give you the password.” He fished out a pen and scrap of paper from his wallet, and slid it to her over the table. Tiffany jotted down the information, flipped the paper over and wrote something so fast, she was certain he couldn’t see it. She then returned the slip of paper to him. “Just put it away and read it later,” she mouthed, tossing him a seductive wink.
He leaned in close to her, as close as he could without a reprimand. “I miss you so damn much,” he whispered. Lust and love swirled in his eyes. And his lips … they were so perfect. “You’ve been doing good I hear … not letting people coax you into a fight. Thin-skinned no more. Keep it up.”
“I’m trying.” She shrugged. “I miss you too, Phoenix. It’s crazy in here, but I’ll be all right.” She blinked a couple times and pulled herself together, determined to be the soldier she knew she was. Standing from his chair, he pushed it in place. “Can you do me a favor, Phoenix?”
“What’s that?”
“Can you call my parents please and let ’em know I’m okay? I can only talk to them so many times. My mother is inconsolable. All she does is cry on the phone and I can barely get a word in. My father has all but disowned me. That’s just his way of dealin’ with me now because he’s hurt by all of this.” She swallowed hard, feeling all the weight of the world on her shoulders. “I’m also worried about their safety. I wouldn’t put anything past Gable. He knows at this point that all bets are off, and he’ll wanna hurt me any way he can.”
“I’ll take care of it, baby. I have to go now.”
“Thanks.” She stood from her seat. “Phoenix?”
“Yes?”
“Butterflies start off as thin skinned. See, they are larvae, then caterpillars. They eventually shed that thin covering and develop a chrysalis.”
“Chrysalis. Hard protection, like armor.” He grinned.
“I’ve shed my skin, Phoenix. My emotions got the best of me and I fucked up. Protected a man who used me, never gave a damn about me. Ran up in that hospital like it was going to be a cakewalk. Luckily, I had a die-hard man by my side who was prepared. I’m loyal to those who are loyal to me. Blood ain’t nothin’ but red blood cells and plasma. Real kinfolk sometimes ain’t nowhere near your family tree.”
“But the roots run deep.”
“Tell the truth, shame the Devil. But if you tell the truth about me, good, bad or indifferent … I’ll let a man live.” Her eyes narrowed as a deep, dark, nasty hatred burst from within her. “Tell a bunch of goddamn lies to try to ruin my life … everything I’ve worked my ass off for, and I’ll fuckin’ crush you…”
Was that admiration she saw in his eyes? And desire.
“I keep track of everything.” She tapped on her head. “I have a steel trap mind, and I leave a carefully guarded paper trail. I’m going to keep on remembering things, all sorts of things, baby, and then I’ll be telling attorney Jane, Tom, Dick and Harry, and telling you, too.” She winked. “So, you go ahead and get inside of that store, my house, my car.
Turn them all over like soil, and look for the black butterflies and the blood red roses. There, you will find every bit of what you need. When I’m done with Gable, he’ll wish he’d jammed that gun in his own goddamn mouth and shot his ass to Kingdom Come.” She outstretched her arms for the guard who was approaching to put the handcuffs back on her. “Have a good day, baby. I owe someone retribution and Tiffany always pays back her debts…”
Phoenix decided to do her one better…
He called Mr. and Mrs. McCall and after a brief talk, they agreed to allow him to pay them a visit.
So there he sat now, inside Tiffany’s family home on Persimmon Court in Naperville. The affluent Oak Creek area had Midwestern charm. The curb appeal was spectacular, inviting and homey. The light brick structure boasted three floors, four bedrooms, three and a half baths, and vaulted ceilings. As he took note of small architectural details in the dining room, her parents joined him. Mrs. McCall set a cup of tea before him and the two took seats at the dining room table. He sat at one end of the table, and the father at the other. Tiffany’s mother sat to his left.
The older couple appeared as though drained of their resolve. The woman and Tiffany favored quite a bit, but he could see parts of her father in her, too.
He clasped his hands together.
“I want to first thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I wish we’d met under better circumstances.” Mrs. McCall nodded, sniffed and hugged herself. “I’m sympathetic to your feelings, and I just wanted to let both of you know that Tiffany’s attorney, I and many others are doing all we can to assist her.”
“Mr. Hale,” Mr. McCall said. “I know who you are. I’ve seen you on T.V. before. That’s what baffles me. I just don’t understand what the Director of DCP has to do with Tiffany. I mean…” He grimaced. “Why would someone in your position be involved in a situation like this?”
