Crossroads: An Anthology

by LaShaun, Elizabeth

  What was happening? Why was I suddenly being treated like a criminal? The lingering smell of death from Wanabe was making me sick. I was about to vomit. This time I knew, I wouldn’t be able to hold it back. I threw a hand over my mouth and lurched from the couch almost knocking Sergeant Madden off his feet, heading directly to the bathroom; neither detective tried to stop me and I barely made it to the toilet before the tide came.

  I emptied my stomach and I felt like I was there for an hour even though it had not been more than a minute or two. My heavy breathing echoed inside the bowl, drowning out the footsteps that entered the bathroom behind me.

  Lifting my head, a towel appeared beside me.

  I looked up to see Madden offering it to me.

  He said, “Clean yourself up, Tony. You’re getting your wish. I’m calling for a forensics team to check out the apartment. In the meantime, you need to come with us. We have a few more questions for you.”

  The tidal wave began again.

  PAM

  After carrying the five boxes Yolanda left to my old bedroom at my mother’s, I spent the past few hours going through them. At first, Mama pretended to help as she tried to pry more information from me and to continue her tangent about my fooling around with my best friend’s man. She left me alone twenty minutes later, having said her piece and not gaining any further explanation from me.

  With everything piled on top of the bed, the items sketched out the two and half year history between Yolanda and me. Pictures of us doing our thang at the clubs, playing volleyball at company picnics, and double dates we shared. She gave back everything we treasured as friends. It was as though she was trying to erase her past. I sat on the edge of the bed, holding a photograph I took of her and Tony. It was the night Yolanda and I met him.

  Twenty-eight Months Ago

  Hanging at Deluge after work, it was a girl’s night out on the town. It was hopping and filled to capacity. Yolanda and I sat at a table in the corner away from the long bar with two other women from our department, Georgia and Kara. The music was live that night, jazzy and sexy. All of us may have had too many drinks but the dawgs were on the prowl and they kept buying us whatever we wanted. Between the four of us, we must have had over twenty drinks starting with a simple Long Island Ice Tea and ending the night with Bahama Mamas.

  For twenty minutes this tall, skinny brother who wore too much cologne gave me his best pickup lines. He actually bounced back and forth between Yolanda and me, hoping one us would bite, probably envisioned having a little ménage à trios with us.

  Had to admire his audacity; not many men would attempt this maneuver, but this brother did it with finesse. He was wasting his time, but we let him stay since he kept paying for more drinks. Besides, he wasn’t bad on the eyes, um, man-candy, and some of what he was saying was kinda cool. A few more Long Islands and who knows? Maybe he would have gotten both our digits that night. Of course, neither she nor I let him know this. Finally, he picked up on the fact that he wasn’t making any headway with us, before moving on to another table filled with women that looked tipsier than us. From their scantily appearances, they would probably be more open to the suggestion of ménage à trios than we were. The tall, skinny brother with too much cologne told us exactly what we were missing. But I’ll keep those naughty comments to myself. Anyway, everyone had a good laugh at the table and joked about giving him another shot.

  Yolanda and I got up to go the ladies room. I didn’t realized just how drunk I was until I started to walk, if you want to call it that. It was more of a sway or maybe a full blown stagger. Yolanda on the other hand had total control of her faculties and was graceful. Though I knew she had more drinks than me. She could always drink me under the table. The only thing she didn’t seemed to be able to handle was wine, believe it or not. The only time I’d ever seen her drinking wine was during that first office party when she opened up to me.

  I bumped against everyone in bumping distance trying to make it to the ladies room. Halfway there the room began spinning. I felt myself going down. Yolanda whirled around to catch me and as fast as she was, I knew it was too late, and I was going to hit the floor hard. Sinking backward in my downward spiral, all I could see was the intense glow of the ceiling’s spot lights. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the crash landing.

  It never came.

  A pair of strong hands caught me from behind, held me in place, keeping me from dropping any further.

  I heard a man ask, “Are you all right?”

  I tilted my head in the voice’s direction. I’m pretty sure there was only one person there holding me up but I was seeing double. Both images were handsome with these amazing brown eyes staring down at me filled with genuine concern. His body gave off a blend of Perry Ellis 360 cologne and subtle perspiration. I could see he was sweating even though it was cool in the bar. He probably had been on the dance floor. His caramel brown skin was cast in shadows and the bar’s dim glow as patrons navigated by us disrupting the overhead spotlight.

  I was breathless.

  He brought me upright and waited until my feet found its footing before he let me go. Again, he asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Y..yes… I’m okay and so embarrassed,” I finally said. Now that I was on my feet, his twin image disappeared and I was staring at one of the finest brothers I have ever laid my eyes on. Six feet something, short hair with a bald fade, well dressed in his blue pants and shirt, clean shaven face and those eyes. He reminded me of Boris Kodjoe from that Undercover TV series.

  Oh God, I think I might have been staring at him too long. He noticed.

  Smiling, he said, “Don’t be. I doubt that anyone even noticed.”

  “You did and I’m thankful for that.” I tried to sound sexy but I think the alcohol might have caused my words to slur a bit. I wasn’t sure.

  I was about to say more when Yolanda chimed in, saying, “You have a name, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor?”

  He looked from me to her. In comparison, I must have looked a mess. My hair was thrown, I couldn’t stand straight and on top of that I was drunk. Yolanda looked like she just stepped off that show Models, not a single strand was out of place and she was dressed to kill that night.

  “My name is Anthony but you can call me Tony,” he said forgetting all about me.

  In retrospect, I couldn’t really blame the brother for not showing me any interest.

  Present day

  For a split second a rush of anger filled my thoughts as I remembered that night. If I had been sober. If I had not let her interrupt. If I went to the ladies room alone. It all could have gone differently.

  When I felt the photograph beginning to crumple under the weight of my fingers, I realized that I was being stupid and loosened my hold. I believe in God and in destiny. If Tony and I were meant to be, then we would have gotten together that night. In the last two years we built a friendship that was as close as Yolanda’s and mine. That’s something I would never regret having. I wasn’t about to let what could have been interfere with me finding my friend. Instead of putting the picture back in the pile, I placed it inside my purse. Where I can have it close to remind me of the friendship the three of us share in those times that I once again start to have my doubts.

  I was about to close the purse when my cell phone rang. I took it out and saw a number I did not recognize on the display. I was hesitant to answer it at first. Lately, I’ve been getting random cold calls from sales people trying to sell me something. I’m constantly trying to remind myself to put my cell on the Do Not Call watch list but keep forgetting. I was in no mood to deal with a salesperson but something, maybe because of the strangeness of the day, caused me to answer.

  I said, “Hello.”

  I waited for the caller to say something like, Hello is this Pamela Reeb. I would like to offer you, blah, blah blah… But instead I got something I didn’t expect.

  It was Tony.

  He was being questioned by the police.


  The Bald Man

  Once the bald man had installed the bugs and cameras into pretty Pamela Reeb’s apartment he headed over to Anthony Holman’s house. Being there, inside this man’s dwelling, made the bald man sick in the pit of his stomach. It was his ulcer acting up again. He started getting them when he learned of Yolanda’s latest love interest.

  He hated Holman because Yolanda loved him; or at least as close to love as she could get. Looking around, he bit down hard on his bottom lip until blood trickled out. His tongue slithered from his mouth like a venomous reptile and he slurped the blood away. Peering down over the living room couch, his thoughts wandered off his work. She and her latest love had watched movies here, talked about their future together here, and made passionate love right here on this overstuffed couch.

  The urge to burn it all to the ground was overpowering.

  He shouted, “Burn it down and kill the boyfriend!” A devilish grin spread across his broad face.

  “You need to control your anger,” the voice ordered. “You are not there to burn anything. Holman isn’t your assignment just a means to our true objective. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” the bald man said with a momentary grimace. “I haven’t forgotten my mission.” His frown turned back into a smile as he imagined the house in an inferno with Holman caught helpless in its wake screaming for his life.

  “Good. Proceed with your placement of the listening devices.”

  On the floor, ripped pictures, shattered plates, and other keepsakes lay scattered as though a storm had swept across the room. He knew that it was Yolanda’s doing. He’d experienced that temper of hers himself.

  She was a hellcat when it overcame her. The rage rivaled his. Hit the right button and Yolanda could be the most dangerous person on Earth. Holman only experienced a tamed variation of it so far. But that was going to change soon. The bald man knew Yolanda better than anyone alive. Her anger would fester. She’d need to direct it at something or someone. That someone of course would be Anthony Holman. He’d made sure of that.

  Pam

  I was furious and stormed passed my father’s executive assistant, Vicky, without asking her if he was busy. One thing I’d definitely inherited from Daddy was his temper, and I was ready to blow. Vicky saw the fire in my eyes and knew better than try to stop me. The white stenciled Chief Reeb on his door caused most that approached to pause. Most of the time, the visitor was either about to be reprimanded or was delivering bad news. All it had done for me was made me even angrier. How could Daddy let his officers interrogate Tony? He’d known him for years and knew Tony wouldn’t harm anything, not even a cat.

  Pushing open the door, I stomped in, my finger wagging and my mouth primed to let him have an earful. But he held up his hand, stopping me before I uttered a single syllable. Sitting behind his large black desk, Daddy was on the phone giving whoever was on the other end, the treatment I’d intended to give him. He was shouting at the top of his lungs, bulbous veins ran across his shining shaved head. Momma always said some day one of them would burst if he didn’t take it easy.

  I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw something. But instead I kicked the door close with the toe of my shoe, crossed the office and sat in the chair opposite Daddy. Folding my arms, I crouched in my seat like I’d always done when I was upset with him. A quick twinkle flickered in his eyes as he stared toward me, but was gone in a flash. I imagined that for a moment, he saw me as his spoiled little girl. Uncoiling my arms, I sat up straight. I needed him to see me as a grown woman.

  After five long minutes, Daddy finished his tirade and hung up. I opened my mouth, only to be halted by his hand again. Daddy pressed the intercom button. When his assistant answered, he said, “Vicky, please hold all my calls.”

  “For how long, sir?” Vicky questioned.

  Daddy looked thoughtfully at me and then said, “Until I say otherwise.” He released the button before Vicky could respond.

  “Can I talk now?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Excuse me?”

  His face became stern, his body rigid as he sat stoically upright. I’d seen it many times before, when he was about to give me a life’s lesson. “I said no, young lady. Before you say anything, I need you to understand there are certain protocols and procedures that have to be adhered to. Just because I know someone personally doesn’t automatically negate my officers from performing their duty.”

  I leaned in closer, holding my expression was as hard as his. “But it’s Tony. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone do anything to harm Yolanda.”

  “I know no such thing. One thing I’ve learned over the years is anyone, under the right conditions, can be pushed beyond his breaking point and do things, friends and family never thought possible.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Come on, Daddy, you can’t seriously believe that.”

  “I’ve seen it more than once, young lady.”

  “But we’re talking about Tony,” I repeated, unable to come up with anything else.

  He let his shoulders relax and his face softened. “I know. And because of that fact, I’ve already stretched my authority further than I should have when I had him brought here to headquarters instead of one of the precincts.”

  Daddy thought that flexing his muscles a little around the precinct would appease me, but it didn’t change the fact he was treating Tony like a common criminal. “If you truly believe he’s capable of doing Yolanda harm, because they had an argument, you might as well question me too.”

  He leaned in, placing his arms across the top of his desk. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Yolanda yelled at me this morning, accusing me of hurting her and then stormed off before I could find out what she was talking about.”

  Daddy looked ready to ask me a question, hesitated, looked down at his hands, shaped them into a pyramid, and then stared up at me again. “Are you and Tony sleeping together?”

  I came out of my seat, almost knocking the chair over. “What?”

  For a brief moment he looked embarrassed, before then his calm demeanor returned. “I’ve seen how you looked at him when you thought no one was watching. How you talk about him, especially when Yolanda is not in earshot. It’s obvious you like Tony. I suspect he likes you too.”

  “No, we’re not sleeping together. He’s dating my best friend.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, Daddy accusing me of betraying Yolanda.

  Daddy let out a sigh and cocked his head, looking relieved and let his hands lay flat again on the desk. “I thought as much, but I had to ask.”

  I took a step closer, my eyes narrowed in disgust. “What do you mean, you had to ask? Are you interrogating me now, Daddy?”

  Daddy’s voice brimmed with good spirits. “No, baby, of course not. This was just a father-daughter conversation.” He evaded my first questions.

  I gave him my best you-don’t-really-expect-me-to-believe-that stare. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  He wiped a hand slowly across his bald head. His dark brown eyes, that had always provided me with reassurance, now made me very nervous. “Until we get things sorted out with Tony, maybe you should stay away from him for a little while. I wouldn’t want you to be inadvertently pulled into his troubles.”

  Shaking my head, I said, “Um, um, Daddy. That’s not going to fly. Tony is one of my closest friends. I trust him,” I said wagging a finger at him. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m sure as hell going to find out.”

  He stood raised his open hand and softly said, “I’m trying to protect you here, sweetheart. I’m not your enemy.”

  “It sure doesn’t look like that from this side of the desk, Daddy.”

  His eyes glared as he stood up tall. In an instance, I felt like a little girl again about to be scolded. “How dare you talk to me that way, young lady! I’m putting my foot down, stay away from Tony. That’s an order!”

  “I’m a grown woman, Daddy. I don’t take orders.�
� I couldn’t believe what I was saying. Yes, we had heated disagreements in the past, but never to the point where he was giving me orders. Whatever the police had on Tony, it must be bad.

  “Fine,” he huffed. “If you want to know what’s going on, I’ll tell you. My detectives found photographs in Yolanda’s apartment of her sleeping with another man. We’re thinking that Tony might have discovered them, confronted her and went into a rage.”

  I reeled in astonishment. “I can’t believe that, Daddy. Tony would never—”

  He sliced his hand through the air cutting me off. “We obtained a warrant and are searching his house even as we speak.” Lowering his hand, he let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry sweetheart, but I have a job to do. My detectives feel there’s enough on Tony to suspect he may have harmed… Yolanda.”

  I suspected Daddy stopped short of saying, or killed.

  “I want to talk to him, Daddy.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Especially after telling me you and Yolanda had an altercation this morning.”

  I shook my head and asked, “So it’s okay to shield me from your detectives, but not Tony?”

  He wagged a finger at me. “Now see here—”

  It was my turn to cut him off. “Does Mama know that you let Tony be arrested?” Mama thought of Tony as the son she never had. I thought Daddy felt the same way, but I saw that I was wrong.

  His eyes danced around in his sockets. “Your mother doesn’t need to know this,” he said, knowing Mama would nag him about it from dusk till dawn if she found out. “Besides, Tony isn’t under arrest. He’s only being questioned.”

  I folded my arms. “So he can leave whenever he likes?”

  Daddy nodded resignedly. “Assuming he hasn’t implicated himself, of course.”

  “I can’t believe you’re saying any of this, Daddy. I thought you liked Tony.”