Life After Wifey

by Kiki Swinson

  “I only ask you once,” he said in his thick native tongue, “Where she live?”

  “Who are you?”

  I sat handcuffed to a chair in a dark warehouse looking at a Hispanic man I’d never seen before.

  The three-inch hunting knife with the jagged blade tore into my knee and I screamed out in agony, “Nooooooo!” My life flashed before me as my bottom lip trembled. I tried reasoning with him, “I’ll tell you what you need to know just promise me that you’ll let me live. I have a family.”

  “I promise only one thing, mami. You tell me what I need—your death will be painless…If not, you’ll die slow!”

  27

  Now Or Never

  Nikki Speaks

  Because of Syncere’s death and the attempt on my life my mom and dad convinced me to go out of town to live with relatives for a while, at least until all of this blew over. They made a good point concerning all the media attention but most importantly regarding my life. I didn’t fight the issue. Once all the proper paper work was cleared through my probation officer, my dad made time to run me over to my apartment to gather several things that I needed for this trip. It didn’t take me long at all to pack everything I needed so my impatient daddy loved it.

  My scheduled flight out of Virginia was at two-thirty in the afternoon and I managed to pack all of my things with my mother’s help, of course. I was ready to go.

  Once I placed all of my luggage down in the hallway by the front door, I took a seat in the den area to catch my breath. My grandmother was watching the news when I walked into the room.

  “Are you ready to leave for the airport?” she asked.

  “Not yet but I will be in about three more hours.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “I’m fine, Grandma. What about you? Are you still getting headaches?”

  “No, baby. God has truly brought me through this ordeal.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “What about you? Do you still think that there isn’t a need for you to go and see a psychiatrist, after all that you’ve suffered?”

  “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, Grandma. All I need is your prayers.”

  “Well, you done already got them,” she assured me. “So, what time is your dad gon’ leave to take you to the airport?”

  “I’m not sure. But before I go, I’m gonna take a ride out to Kira’s grave and sit out there for a while and talk to her.”

  “Yeah, that might do you some good.”

  We talked for a few more minutes until I grew restless of her continuous, unwanted advice. I know that she’s what you would call a wise old lady and I also know she meant well, but when I’ve had enough, I’ve had enough.

  Before I left the house, I realized that both of my parents had stepped out, so I left them a note telling them I was going to visit Kira’s grave and that I would be back within the hour. On my way to the grave, I made a call to Quincy’s cell phone, but I didn’t get an answer. So I called the car wash next and a woman picked up the phone.

  “Sparkle’s Carwash and Detailing,” she said.

  “Hi, can I speak to Quincy?”

  “Honey, Quincy ain’t here.”

  “Do you know what time he’s coming in?”

  “Honey, ain’t nobody seen Quincy in a couple of days. Who is this?”

  “Just a friend. Who is this?” I said.

  “I’m the other owner’s mother.”

  “Is this Syncere’s mother?”

  “Yes, this is she. Who is this?”

  “When you finally see Quincy, could you tell him Sabrina called?”

  “All right, she said. And then I quickly hung up.

  After my conversation with Syncere’s mother, I had to pull my car over to the side of the road because my heart started beating uncontrollably.

  I also got an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Before I could even catch my breath, my cell phone started ringing off the damn hook. I looked down at the caller ID and saw the word private; I elected not to answer it. I figured that whoever it may have been really could not have wanted to talk to me, especially by blocking their phone number. So, I said to hell with ‘em.

  It took me about ten minutes to get myself back together to make this drive. As I merged back onto the road, I began to wonder about Quincy. I couldn’t believe that no one had seen him at the spot in a couple of days. That wasn’t his typical behavior especially not when it came to his money. I flipped my phone open and re-dialed his number, but his voicemail came on the first ring once again. I started to leave him a voicemail, but at the last minute I decided not to. However, I did elect to make a quick detour to his house to see if I saw his car parked outside.

  Quincy’s car wasn’t parked outside of his place, so I decided to write him a little note and leave it in his mailbox. That way, when he returned home, he’d know that I was there and to hit me up as soon as he got the chance. I completed the three-line note, folded it in half, stepped out of my car and headed toward the mailbox mounted on the wall next to his front door. But before I could barely get onto his front porch I heard a noise coming from the inside of the house, so I stopped in my tracks and stood very still.

  I realized that it was a television I was hearing. “Oh shoot, he might be in the house after all,” I commented out loud and proceeded up the stairs. Instead of sticking the note down in the mailbox, I knocked on the door and waited for Quincy to come to the door. But after making several attempts to see if he was indeed in the house, it had become apparent that he wasn’t, so I reached over and stuck the note into his mailbox.

  As I made my way back off the front porch, something told me to take a quick peep through his living room window since the curtain was slightly open. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to see much. And even though the curtains were slightly ajar, the only thing I could see was the back of the television and half of his leather sofa. I gave up and walked away from the window. Before I could make it down the stairs, a voice from out of nowhere said, “Are you looking for the young man who lives there?”

  Startled by the sudden outburst, I looked up in the direction the voice and saw this short, old, white lady peeping over her brown wooden fence. Judging from the gray hair slightly covered by a fashionable straw hat, she looked every bit of sixty years old.

  When I got down by my car, I answered her by saying, “Yes, I am. Have you seen him today?”

  “No, I’m afraid not,” the elderly woman replied in a low whisper. “But, I did see him when he came in late last night with some woman.”

  “Do you remember about what time that was?”

  “Well, the eleven o’clock news had just went off, so I’m assuming it was a little after eleven-thirty. They didn’t stay long at all and about an hour later, I heard the woman scream to the top of her voice. I quickly climbed out of my bed to see if I could help but by the time I got to my bedroom window, I saw his BMW flying out of here like a bat out of hell.”

  “Did you see who was driving?”

  “No, I didn’t. It was too dark.”

  “So, you’re saying you haven’t seen him since?”

  “No,” the woman replied.

  “What about the young lady he was with?”

  “No, I haven’t seen her either.”

  “Has anyway else been here?”

  “No.”

  “Well, do you think that they could’ve been fighting?”

  “It’s hard to say, because I only heard her scream that one time.”

  “Well, have you ever heard him getting into any fights with a woman?”

  “No. He’s a pretty quiet neighbor,” She started off, “I only hear him when he comes and goes. So, it kind of shocked me when I heard the commotion, which is why I called the police. But when they arrived and knocked on his door, no one answered, so, of course, they had no other choice but to leave. I talked to them before they left and told them exactly what I heard, so they advised me to give them a call back if the commotio
n started up again. But, it didn’t so I went back to bed.”

  Tickled by this lady’s ability and willingness to play private eye, I smiled at her and said, “I know your neighbors really appreciate you.”

  She smiled back and said, “Oh, they most certainly do.”

  “Well, I’m quite sure Quincy does too.”

  “Oh, is that his name?”

  “Yes, ma’ am. And I promise you that the next time I talk to him, I’m going to let him know how fortunate he is to have you as his next door neighbor.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she said and smiled.

  “Oh, no. I insist,” I replied and took two-step backwards in effort to get the hell away from this talking-ass woman.

  “You getting ready to leave?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’ am. I gotta go.”

  “Well, what’s your name?”

  “Nicole. But, everybody calls me Nikki.”

  “Well, it’s nice meeting you, Nicole. And my name is Mrs. Bentley. But, my friends call me Rose.”

  “Nice meeting you too, Ms. Rose,” I told her and continued to take several steps backwards. “Oh and if you happen to see my friend, could you please tell him that I came by?”

  “I most certainly will.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetie,” she replied in the most sincere manner, walked away from the fence and headed back into her house.

  I jumped back into my car and took one last look at Quincy’s crib before I put my car in reverse and rolled out of there for good. I looked back one more time and my attention focused on something that looked like a silhouette of a person’s body standing a few feet back from the upstairs bedroom window. When I saw this image, my heart dropped. I figured that my eyes had to be playing tricks on me because I didn’t remember seeing it when I first pulled up. And if it was there, then how did I miss it? It was kind of weird but I wasn’t gon’ jump to conclusions if I was seeing things. I closed my eyes and when I opened them again, I hoped the shadow or whatever the hell was behind that window would be gone. But, as soon as I opened my eyes and glanced back up at the window, that image was still there. My gut feeling told me to carry my ass because something just didn’t seem right.

  That little nosey ass little bird in the back of my mind told me to get out of the car and find out who was the bedroom watching my every move. And guess what? My crazy ass listened to that little bird and I could have sworn that shadow looked like the woman he brought home last night. Of course that shit doesn’t sit right with me. I mean, how dare that bastard bring another chick home? Hadn’t we just shared something special the other night? If he wanted some companionship, he could’ve called me. But since he hadn’t, I was gonna use the spare key he gave me and see what the hell was going on? Shit, I needed to know how serious they were. I wasn’t gon’ go off on her.

  I was just gonna ask her a few questions because my feelings were hurt. I really felt betrayed so somebody was gon’ tell me something.

  It didn’t take me long to get in the house because I was really anxious to see what she looked like. And right after I closed the front door behind me, I stormed right upstairs. The hardwood floor tile Quincy had throughout his entire home, including on this staircase, made a lot of squeaking noise when you walked on top of it. But, I didn’t care because I kept right on moving.

  After all that squeaking noise, I finally made it to the top of the staircase, walked straight to the door on my right, grabbed the doorknob and forced the door open. And when the door hit the wall behind it, my heart collapsed and my mouth flew wide open.

  “Oh shit!” I said, and dropped my cellular phone to the floor.

  One part of me wanted to run like hell, but then the other part of me told me not to. I took a deep breath and listened to the part of me that told me to stick around. I got the courage to move a couple steps forward and my entire body was instantly filled with anxiety. But, I couldn’t let the anxiety consume me because I needed to figure out how Quincy and this woman died.

  Before I entered into the bedroom completely, I glanced around the entire room from top to bottom and wondered to myself how and when their deaths took place. Quincy was sitting upright in the chair before the window, which explained the shadow I saw from my car. He seemed to have gotten the worst of it and as I began to walk closer to him, the black eye and bruises all over his face became more visible. His arms, legs and mouth were wrapped up in gray electrical tape, he was stripped naked and had a single gun shot wound to his head. The chick he was laid up was none other than Sunshine.

  My heart went out to her that instant and when I looked closer, I realized that she escaped the beating and got two gunshot wounds to the chest. The cat was who ran up in here had obviously caught them both off guard, because the way she was positioned indicated that she was killed instantly. She probably died right after Mrs. Rose said she heard her scream. Quincy, on the other hand, looked like he was forced to get out of the bed. I tried to figure out why somebody would torture and kill ‘em like this? I mean, he was a cool guy and mad niggas respected him, so what the hell could he have done to make somebody want to take his life?

  Then it came to me: Carlos had been here. This had his name written all over it.

  How did he find the house? This place was not even in Quincy’s name. But then, I forgot who I was talking about. Papi had connects across the country with unlimited access to people’s personal information. I had to get out of the house before he came back and tried to kill me too. Before I left I searched his entire bedroom for a safe.

  I knew that if I found one it would be filled with a lot of dough. After going through everything with a fine tooth comb, I ran across a fire proof lockbox stored in his bottom dresser drawer underneath a pile of t-shirts and boxer shorts. The metal box was locked , but there wasn’t a key in sight. I picked the box up anyway because I figured I could find a way to break into it later.

  On my way out of Quincy’s house, I retraced all my steps and made sure I wiped down every doorknob I touched. I even wiped my footprint off the door to Quincy’s bedroom. Didn’t want the homicide detectives thinking that I was a jealous girlfriend and killed them out of rage. No can do. Couldn’t let that happen. After I closed the front door behind myself, I immediately wiped off the knob and crept back down the back steps. While I was making my way back to my car, I made sure I checked out my surroundings. Fortunately for me, no one was standing outside or looking out of their windows. I was relieved once I got back into my car and hopped back onto the highway.

  I honestly didn’t know if I was coming or going. My heart was beating like crazy and my adrenaline was pumping out of control. I knew that Carlos was somewhere in the area but I didn’t know where. The best thing for me to do was get the hell out of town, fast.

  On my way back to my grandmother’s house, I thought about how the police were going to be swarming all over Quincy’s place real soon. And the most important factor, was that I wasn’t gonna be involved in that investigation. God knows I’d had my share of police asking me questions. Damn it, I just remembered that I left Quincy a note in his mailbox telling him to call me. Ahhh, shit! The police were going to be all over me and wanting to know how I knew this guy. If it was the same investigator on Kira’s case, I knew he was gonna wonder why everybody I came in contact with got murdered. It was, of course, was a damn good question. I just couldn’t answer the question at that moment. Time would tell, though. In the meantime, I had to get out of town before I ran across somebody else’s dead body.

  After finding Quincy and Sunshine’s dead bodies, I was in no shape to go out to the graveyard to say goodbye to Kira. Instead, I headed straight to my grandmother’s house.

  Still shook up about all the shit that was going on, I felt myself falling into an emotional slump. And the only way I knew that I could get through this was if I talked to someone. But, who? I mean, I couldn’t go to the police because I’d be sucked in anoth
er freaking investigation. Besides, I didn’t need that type of heat on me. My probation officer was already breathing down my neck about the Kira, Mark and Syncere murders. I couldn’t have her sending the U.S. Marshals down on my trail because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. No way!

  Upon my arrival, I drove straight into the garage. On my way out of the car, I grabbed the lockbox off the seat next to me and headed into the house. When I walked through the kitchen I realized that I was alone from the note my grandmother left on the kitchen table. The note said that she was out running errands with my mom and that she would be back soon. I sat the lockbox down on the table next to the note so I could find something to pry it open with. My first thought was to get a screw driver and a hammer and try to break open the safe. I grabbed the tools out of the utility closet next to the kitchen and started working on the lock. The curiosity of knowing how much Q had stashed in here was killing the hell out of me so I started banging the box harder. I noticed that the lock was giving way and I started getting excited. But, all that came to an abrupt end when I looked up and realized that I was not alone after all. Standing at the doorway of the entrance to the kitchen was my grandmother and she looked distraught. I stood up from the chair and asked, “Grandma are you all right?”

  She didn’t answer so I walked over to ask her again and Carlos came right up from behind her. As soon as he stepped away from her she fell down to the floor with her eyes still open. I knew she was dead and the thought just killed me.

  “Why did you have to kill her?” I screamed, taking huge steps backwards.

  Carlos had his gun, with a silencer screwed into the end of the barrel, pointed directly at me. I knew my life was about to end. I guess I had run long enough. “Why did you have to kill my grandmother?”

  “I kill any and everything that stands in my way.”

  “Is that why you killed Quincy and that woman in his bed?”