Devilish Details

by Emery, Lynn

  “Good mornin’,” Rochelle said with a grin and looked at MiMi. “I said good mornin’.”

  MiMi broke off in the middle of a sentence and blinked at her. Then she smiled. “Excuse me, ma’am. How are you?”

  “I’m fine, thanks for askin’.” Rochelle rolled her eyes when she turned her back to MiMi, and went into the club.

  “Goodbye, MiMi.” Jazz waved at her as a cue to leave.

  “At least promise to talk to Willa, girl. Please. I’ll bet Filipe has millions stashed away.”

  Jazz smacked her lips and then sighed as she gazed off as if considering. She managed to keep from laughing while MiMi stood holding her breath. MiMi had made good points about tracking down the money. “Okay, I’ll talk to her. But let me do it my way, and don’t be calling me every day asking about it.” Jazz glared at her in warning.

  “No, no, I won’t bother you. Oh thank you, thank you.” MiMi grabbed Jazz in a hug.

  “I’m serious, MiMi. Start stalking me and I won’t say one word.”

  MiMi made a cross on her chest. “I swear, girl. I’m going to let you totally handle it. I better go. Look, I’ll call you, no; you call me when you know something. Thank you.”

  “Yeah,” Jazz retorted.

  “I gotta go. We have a sales meeting in fifteen minutes. I’m going to get you samples of quality make-up from some of the best brands, so you won’t have to keep wearing that cheap stuff.” MiMi blew a kiss.

  “What the hell you mean cheap?”

  MiMi had already rushed off, balancing expertly on three inch heels. She grinned and waved gaily once inside her shiny Buick Enclave. “Bye, girl.”

  “That heffa,” Jazz muttered and went upstairs again.

  Chapter 4

  Hours later, Jazz sat on a small patio area outside the club smoking and sipping from a can of cola. She needed a break from the smell of fried chicken, fish, and fried onion rings. A cooler with more soda and bottled water sat against the wall for employees. Jazz kept it stocked by way of a small perk for them. Cheap but solid lawn chairs and a couple of tables were arranged under the awning.

  With help from Chyna, Rochelle had served a steady string of lunch customers from eleven thirty that morning straight through to well after two o’clock. Shift workers from local hospitals and plants got off from work to get food. Rochelle had been right to convince Jazz that serving food was a good idea. Jazz thought back to MiMi’s revelations about the Mayor going after ‘nuisance’ businesses. Having a strong customer base for a restaurant would come in handy. Maybe she should be one-up on the local politicians and close Candy Girls first. A new name and a new start might work. Jazz smiled as she added another fall back to her growing list of options. The sound of a powerful car engine rumbled down the alley. Minutes later, she heard the solid thunk of a car door shutting. Detective Addison strolled into view. She watched him approach through the smoke from her cigarillo. When Addison was two or three feet away, Jazz raised an eyebrow.

  “I was waiting to see if you was a drug dealer or a cop,” she said.

  “Say what?” Addison eased his solid body onto one of two wooden barstools.

  “You got a 340 hp 5.7 liter Hemi V8. Am I right? Two kinds of drivers need that kind of power to move fast; folks trying to get away quick, and the folks trying to catch ‘em.”

  Jazz crossed her legs and gazed up at him. She tried to ignore her physical attraction to the nice hunk of manhood before her. Detective Don Addison had the body of a well-toned pro wrestler. Dimples gave him a killer smile. She glanced off to blunt the double whammy effect. It helped, but the tingle down her spine didn’t stop.

  “Have a cola or some water,” Jazz said and pointed to the cooler.

  “Believe I will, thank you ma’am. You know cars, too? Now if you tell me you follow football, I’m going to arrest you for being the perfect woman,” he replied.

  “I knew you’d find a trumped up charge to put handcuffs on me,” Jazz said. She gave him a crooked smile.

  “Nah, I’d never try to tie you up in any way. Unless you like that kinda thing,” he said softly with a twinkle in his coffee brown eyes.

  “My, my, Detective Addison, the way you talk. You’re going to make me blush.” Jazz couldn’t help but laugh with him.

  “When you let that ten foot high wall down, we enjoy each other.”

  “Yeah, well I’ve never had much luck with authority figures, particularly cops. We didn’t meet the first time under the best conditions,” Jazz said.

  Addison’s expression turned serious as he nodded. “You did the right thing helping us put Filipe Perez away.”

  “If you say so.” Jazz looked away when his intense gaze unsettled her. “Thanks for listening when we told you my nephew didn’t kill his step-daddy.”

  “You’re welcome, Jazzmonetta,” Detective Addison said.

  A flash of pleasant heat joined the tingling at the way his baritone voice made her full first name sound. Jazz shifted in the chair as a familiar ache shot through her pelvis. Damn cops always starting some kind of trouble, she thought. She pushed away lustful images of Addison without his shirt, and every other stitch of clothing. Jazz pulled smoke from the cigarillo and let it out to calm her nerves.

  “Of course, y’all made him a suspect in the first place,” she wisecracked. “I can’t thank you for that shit.”

  Addison rolled with it and grinned at her. “Hey, give us some credit. We put away the real murderer”

  “ “So long to the asshole.”

  “I’ll drink to that one,” Addison said. He raised his can of iced tea and tapped it against Jazz’s can of cola.

  “So did another coincidence bring you this way again?” Jazz emptied the last of her soda and tossed it into the trash basket nearby.

  “I talked to your former boss. Lorraine Taylor would like nothing better than to see you go down. Doesn’t matter what for, she just has you on her list. What’d you do to her?” He cocked a dark eyebrow at her.

  “She swears I stole Candy Girls out from under her. Lorraine hating my guts is not breaking news, Detective. She’s been telling the world for the last two years. I’d like to see her hook me up to Kyeisha’s trouble.” “Oh believe me she tried. She mentioned Cleavon and Brandon had done business with Filipe. Dropped a few hints that maybe you were in business with them, and you put Brandon up to robbing Cleavon.”Addison chuckled at Jazz’s string of expletives in response. “I’m just telling you what she said.”

  “Let me guess. I’m trouble, don’t have a loyal bone in my body, and would stab anybody in the back.”

  “Yeah, with a few cuss words thrown in,” he replied. “It’s obvious she’s doesn’t have any real info to track their supplier.”

  “Don’t be so fast. If Kyeisha keeps in touch with anybody it would be Lorraine. They’re thick as thieves. Hell, they are thieves. Lorraine knows more than she’s telling.” Jazz smashed the smoldering remains of her cigarillo.

  “We agree on that angle. I’m keeping a close eye on Ms. Lorraine for sure. Be careful though. You’re building up quite a mean collection of enemies. Filipe will be out in about four years.” Addison rested his elbows on his thighs.

  “Filipe thinks I didn’t stick by him, and for that he’s pissed. He doesn’t think I turned him though. His pal talking his head off helped me on that one. I knew he would,” Jazz said, referring to the thug Addison and his partner arrested before they caught Filipe.

  “Just don’t keep walking so close to the edge. These people you’ve been hanging with don’t play.”

  “Yes, mother,” Jazz wisecracked. “Hey, you’ll find Cleavon soon enough. He doesn’t have much money or many places to hide. Tracking his dumb ass should be easy.”

  “Truth, except we’re not even sure Cleavon was the shooter now. There were at least seven people in the house, and most of them were armed. We found five handguns and an automatic rifle.” Addison heaved a sigh. “At least we got all those killing machines off the
street.”

  “Good luck getting any of ‘em to talk.” Jazz said, and started to go on but stopped short of thinking out loud.

  She gazed down the alley that gave her a view of the neighborhood. In other circumstances she might have given dark, handsome and sizzling hot a nudge. Addison had brains to go with that nice brawn. All he needed was a few “what ifs” or sly hints that sounded like offhand conversation. But she had more of an interest in where her tips might lead.

  “We’ll see,” he replied and finished his tea.

  Jazz glanced at him sharply. “You be careful on them mean streets.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. I’ll do that.” Addison smiled at her. “Back to Lorraine…”

  “Lorraine’s great-uncle left his place to her mama. When she died Lorraine took over, but she didn’t have any business sense. She didn’t pay her property taxes or payroll taxes. Name a mistake, she made it. I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen. So I paid up the taxes and got the buildings and land.”

  “Not every day you can find solid real estate. Plus the neighborhood is turning around. Smart move,” he said with a nod.

  “Hey, I pay attention. Lorraine thought I dropped the cash so she could have the business back, and I’d have a job.” Jazz barked a laugh. “Ain’t that crazy? Why would I pay Lorraine’s debt to be her underpaid employee? C’mon now.”

  “I’m guessing she didn’t offer you any money then.” Addison laughed hard when Jazz glared at him. “Gotcha.”

  Jazz crossed her arms. “Kyeisha came to work for me. Come to find out she’s snitchin’ to Lorraine. Not only that, Kyeisha leaving the kitchen dirty, putting dead bugs around the place, and then Lorraine would call the health inspectors. I bounced her lyin’ ass outta here hard.”

  “Don’t be telling an officer of the law you committed battery,” Addison said. When she grunted, he hissed out a noisy breath. “I’m trying to keep you out of jail, Jazz. You can’t be swinging fists on folks.”

  “Did Kyeisha file charges? No,” Jazz said mildly. “Not every disagreement requires police intervention. Besides, I wouldn’t be surprised if she has warrants.”

  “Right now the stakes are high, so watch yourself. Well, let me get to it.” Addison stood and rolled his shoulders. “Got a long night ahead.”

  “Especially if you’re gonna be searching roach motels looking for Kyeisha and her new boyfriend,” Jazz joked. She gazed up at him in appreciation, but worked not to let him notice. His sexy deep laugh made it hard.

  “Gotta love that smart mouth,” he replied.

  “Some might call it a great sense of humor.” Jazz winked at him, and was rewarded with more musical laughter. She could get addicted to the sound.

  “Have a good evening. By that I mean no trouble,” he rejoined and pointed at her.

  “Hey, wouldn’t dream of it. See ya later.” Jazz stood.

  “You will,” Addison promised. With a wave, he strode back to his unmarked cruiser.

  “Uh-huh, that might not be bad at all,” Jazz murmured, watching the graceful power of his stride.

  *

  Two days later, Jazz had another early morning outside her routine. At eight o’clock she was up and moving. This time it was by choice. The sunny April day didn’t seem to improve the mood of drivers. Baton Rouge deserved its reputation for horrible traffic. By the time she got to the offices of Crown Protection, Jazz had more reasons not to end up with the usual kind of job. MiMi had it right. Jazz needed a big cushion of cash so she wouldn’t have to work for anyone else. Or worse, end up working a regular gig like the miserable commuters.

  She pulled into the five level parking garage next to Willa’s office building and found a space after circling for three minutes. Then she took the elevator down again with more morose looking people. More proof living a conventional life sucked. She needed to have her best persuasive game face on with her big sister. After a flirty grin at the security guard, Jazz got off on the fourth floor. Glass doors with bold gold lettering straight ahead informed potential clients they’d reached Crown Protection Services, LLC. When Jazz pushed through to the lobby, a loud female voice greeted her. She glanced around but didn’t see anyone. A young female receptionist kept talking on the phone despite her worried expression. Kay, Willa’s office administrator, made frantic gestures at her to continue business as usual.

  “Take a message if you can,” Kay whispered frantically. “I’ll go check on Willa.”

  “Hey, what the hell is goin’ on up in here?” Jazz said.

  “Some lady came in and said she wanted to discuss a contract. That’s all I know,” Kay replied.

  She scurried down the hall leading to Willa’s office with Jazz close behind. Despite her three inch e Italian leather boots, Jazz overtook Kay and beat her to the office. When Kay knocked on the door and paused, Jazz pulled her aside.

  “Knock my ass.” Jazz jerked the door open and marched in.

  A tall woman dressed in an expensive dark green wool suit and tan cape shook her purse in the air. “I want to know where that slut is right now. Is she here? I’ll bet she’s in one of these offices.”

  “Excuse me, but you best calm the hell down; screaming at my sister like you’ve lost your damn mind.” Jazz was just getting wound up.

  Willa came from behind her large polished oak desk. “Everybody calm down. Mrs. Netterville, MiMi doesn’t work here. So aside from causing more problems for yourself, staking out my office won’t do you any good.”

  Mrs. Netterville squared her shoulders. “Are you threatening me? I know important people in this city, including a top police official. From what I’ve read about you and your associations the last thing you want is a lawsuit or criminal charges filed. Let me tell you one thing…”

  Jazz stepped between Mrs. Netterville and Willa. “Uh-huh, let me tell you something first.”

  “Jazz, don’t,” Willa muttered through tight lips though she kept a strained smile.

  “I’m Mrs. Crown’s sister, and a friend of Ms. Landry. I happen to know running around with someone, and his name isn’t Netterville. Between you and me,” Jazz said. She dropped her voice low enough that Mrs. Netterville craned her neck to listen. “Well, she’s my friend true enough. But MiMi has a problem sticking to one man longer than a minute. Know what I mean?”

  Mrs. Netterville blinked at the sharp turn of the conversation. “Well I…”

  “You’ve been on your feet and stressed out. Have a seat, ma’am. You want a glass of water? Kay can get you a bottle.” Jazz pointed to one of the deep red leather chairs facing Willa’s desk.

  “What?” Willa whispered, but broke off when Jazz shot her a warning look.

  To both Willa and Kay’s surprise, Mrs. Netterville sat down. “You must think I’m horrible, acting so…”

  “Ghetto? Nah, men can push you.” Jazz nodded with a sympathetic expression.

  “I’m just so upset at the way John has been acting.”

  “Look, ma’am. I’ll save you some time and say it straight out. MiMi moved on to a guy with more money than Mr. Netterville.” Jazz flipped a hand in the air. “Girl, MiMi can flirt with ten men, and then take off with number eleven. Let me ask you something. Has he been gone on weekends or overnight trips lately?”

  “No, but…” Mrs. Netterville’s eyebrows pulled together in concentration.

  “MiMi has been seeing this other guy for long weekends. Now he’s single, but since he’s engaged to another woman I won’t stir up mess by dropping his name. Anyway, she tells me all this stuff. So I can promise you she’s just flirting with your hubby. If I was you, I’d put the fear of God and a divorce lawyer into him. Know what I mean?”

  “Yes, I do,” Mrs. Netterville said softly and nodded.

  “Where did he meet MiMi anyway, girl?” Jazz glanced at Kay. “You mind getting me a cup of coffee?”

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like a cup, too,” Mrs. Netterville asked, much of the steam gone from her mood.

/>   “Uh, I have a fresh pot right over here,” Willa broke in. She headed to the long table on the wall near an alcove and seating area of her office.

  “I’ll do it. Danesha has everything under control out front,” Kay said.

  Kay’s gaze was glued to the scene playing out. Before Willa could react she got busy with cups and filling them. Willa pulled a third chair from the small conference table nearby and sat down. She seemed on alert for another meltdown from the volatile matron.

  “So you were about to tell us where they met,” Jazz prompted.

  “There was a business mixer sponsored by the Baton Rouge Chamber of Commerce. You know a chance for business owners to network. Those things are dry and boring, or so I thought before now. Apparently MiMi Landry made quite an impression. Oh I know the whole story, and she did more than flirt,” Mrs. Netterville said with a huff. “They’ve met for lunch at least twice that I know about. So don’t try to tell me it was nothing. I’m no fool.”

  “Obviously we don’t take you for stupid, ma’am. You’ve been with him long enough to know his tricks, I mean, how he behaves,” Jazz added.

  “Not recently. I suppose turning fifty has him wanting to prove he’s still got it,” Mrs. Netterville replied and bit her lower lip. Her society manners kicked in when Kay offered her a cup. “Thank you, dear.”

  “Appreciate you, girl.” Jazz took a cup, sipped, and winked at Kay.

  Willa waved away an offer of coffee from Kay and faced the older woman. “Mrs. Netterville, I understand you’re upset, but Jazz is right. You may be jumping the gun. Even two lunches might just be business. MiMi has done consulting on the side. She’s had experience with managing cash flow and property control.”

  Jazz coughed hard. She cleared her throat loudly. “Goodness, I drank too fast and it went down the wrong way.”

  “Are you okay?” Mrs. Netterville handed Jazz a napkin.

  “Um-hum.” Jazz avoided Willa’s pointed glance.

  “Anyway, I’m sure you’d do better discussing this with Mr. Netterville,” Willa finished.