The Mike Black Saga; MOB

by Glenn, Roy

  “Good evening, Mr. Burns. Welcome back to Cuisine,” the hostess said. “If you and your guest will please follow me, I have an excellent table waiting for you.” She grabbed two menus. Travis and Me’shelle followed the hostess to their table and found a waitress waiting.

  “Good evening, Mr. Burns. Welcome back to Cuisine,” the waitress said. “We’re glad to have you dining with us again,” she said as she held the chair for Me’shelle. “My name is Bianca, and I will be your sever this evening. Would you like something from the bar?”

  Travis looked at Me’shelle. “Just some wine, maybe.”

  “Would you like to see our wine list?” she asked Me’shelle.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “I’ll be back with our wine list. But before I go, let me just mention that today’s special is grilled Tilapia with a white wine sauce.” The waitress departed.

  “Well, Mr. Burns, I take it you’ve been here quite a bit,” Me’shelle said as she looked over the menu.

  “Yes. Do you remember me mentioning a friend of mine named Freeze?”

  “The very dangerous one. I remember.”

  “He runs this place. But it’s changed a lot since I was last here.”

  “How so?”

  “That reception, for starters. You didn’t need reservations before. And it was never this crowded so early in the day. It’s a more upscale atmosphere now,” Travis explained as their waitress returned with the wine list, accompanied by another server carrying a bottle of champagne and a bucket of ice.

  “Dom Perignon, 1982, compliments of the management,” the server said as she prepared to pour. “Mr. Burns, Freeze asked me to tell you and your guest to enjoy your meal. He will join you once you’ve finished,” the waitress said after she handed Me’shelle the wine list. “Take your time. Look over both the menu and the wine list, and I’ll be back to take your order.”

  Travis and Me’shelle enjoyed their meal, and as promised, Freeze joined them afterwards for cocktails and conversation. Travis looked up and couldn’t believe what he saw coming toward him: Freeze wearing a suit.

  “This must be Me’shelle,” Freeze said and extended his hand.

  “And you must be Freeze,” Me’shelle said, accepting it. From that point, the three laughed and talked for the remainder of the evening. At first, Me’shelle was a little apprehensive about Freeze because Travis had told her that he was a dangerous man. But as the evening wore on and the drinks flowed and the conversation turned to this and that, Freeze made Me’shelle feel as comfortable as if they were old friends.

  By the time Travis and Me’shelle left Cuisine, she was just a little drunk, and feeling kind of horny. As soon as they got in the door of Me’shelle’s apartment, she stripped Travis down and led him into the bedroom and made love to him. Afterwards, she lay in his arms and they talked.

  And then Me’shelle dropped it.

  “I’m gonna go and talk to those detectives tomorrow,” Me’shelle said and placed her head on Travis’s chest.

  “Have fun.”

  “Will you come with me? You know, for moral support.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t like cops.”

  “You don’t have to talk to them. Just come down there and keep me company,” Me’shelle said, running her hand over his chest.

  “No.”

  “You don’t even have to go in. Just take me down there.”

  “No. I told you I don’t like cops, so I don’t go around them.”

  “Not even for me?” Me’shelle asked and looked into his eyes.

  “Not for you, Me’shelle, not for anybody. I don’t mess with cops.”

  Me’shelle rolled over and grabbed her pillow. She was hurt by his refusal. She didn’t think that she had made an unreasonable request. Just be with her.

  While Me’shelle drifted off to sleep, Travis lay still and quiet. He knew that he couldn’t go anywhere near Detective Kirkland. There was no way he was going to take the chance that he might have been recognized. He watched her as she slept and thought about what Freeze had said to him. She’s gonna feel betrayed when she finds out. Let me give you some advice: be real with her about who you really are and what you really do.

  When Me’shelle awoke the next morning and reached out for Travis, he was no longer in bed with her. She sat up and looked around. “Good morning, Me’shelle,” Travis said. He was dressed and sitting in the chair next to the bed.

  “Good morning. You’re up early,” Me’shelle said, glancing at the clock.

  “There’s something that I have to tell you.”

  “I don’t think I like the way this is going already,” Me’shelle said and covered herself with the sheet. “What do you want to tell me?”

  “I want to tell you why I can’t go to the police with you.”

  “Well, don’t leave me in suspense.”

  Travis stood up and began to pace. “I can’t go with you because I can’t take the chance that that detective really did recognize me from somewhere.”

  “Where would he recognize you from?”

  He stopped and faced Me’shelle. “I robbed the grocery store where I met you.”

  “What?”

  “I robbed—”

  “No, Travis, I heard what you said. I just can’t believe what I’m hearing. You robbed a grocery store?”

  “Yes. And a lot of other places.”

  “You’re kidding, right? I mean, this is all a joke, right, because this can’t be happening to me. I can’t be in love with a crook,” she said as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

  “I’m not kidding, Me’shelle.”

  “How long have you been doing this?”

  “Two years.”

  “Two years, Travis? My God. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It’s not the kind of thing that I just up and tell everybody.”

  “So, why are you telling me now?”

  “Because I love you, Me’shelle, and I can’t live with this lie any longer. I know it hurt you for me to say that I wasn’t gonna go to the cops with you. Now you know why I can’t go.”

  There was silence in the room. Me’shelle sat up on the bed and stared at Travis. To him, it felt like eternity.

  “Say something, Me’shelle.”

  “I buried my brother and his wife yesterday. They were killed for the criminal things they were doing. My niece is in shock, raped, because of the criminal shit that her parents were doing!” Me’shelle said through her tears. “Now you stand there and tell me that you’re a criminal too. Get out, Travis. I never want to see you again.”

  Chapter Thirty

  By the time Me’shelle left the police station, she realized something. She hated cops too. Her experience with Detectives Kirkland and Richards wasn’t pretty. In the two hours that she spent with them, Me’shelle was made to feel more like she had committed the crime than like the grieving sister of the victim.

  When she walked in, she had every intention of giving her full cooperation to the investigation into her brother’s murder. She was ready to offer any assistance she could to put the guilty person in jail for what they had done. They had killed her brother and sister-in-law and raped her niece. Me’shelle wanted to see them caught, tried, convicted and put away in jail for life.

  She offered them the only bit information that she knew. Bruce was involved with somebody who went by the name of Chilly, and Bruce was worried because he owed money to somebody. But she couldn’t say for sure whether he owed that money to Chilly or somebody else. Me’shelle simply didn’t know.

  That was all she had, and Me’shelle thought she would share that information then be free to go. However, the longer she sat there, the more Me’shelle was made to feel like she was not only involved in whatever Bruce was doing, but was involved in, if not responsible for what had happened. Their interrogation left a very bitter taste in her mouth, one that wouldn’t be easily washed away.

  When s
he thought it was over and she could leave, Detective Kirkland started asking about Travis.

  “What do you want to know about him?”

  Me’shelle wasn’t listening while Kirkland asked his questions about Travis. She was lost in her own thoughts, wondering whether she should tell the detectives that Travis was involved in the grocery store robbery. The decision was easy. She was mad about the way the detectives had treated her by that point, so she had no desire to help them with anything. Besides, even though it hurt her to hear what he had told her, Me’shelle still felt love for Travis, and she couldn’t do that to him. If they found out on their own, so be it. But she would have no part in it.

  Her mind drifted to what Travis had said to her about not liking police and not wanting to have anything to do with them. She now shared his opinion.

  “Miss Lawrence. Did you hear what I said?” Kirkland asked.

  “Yes detective, I heard what you said,” Me’shelle lied. “But I’m not exactly sure of what you’re asking me.”

  “I don’t see where it’s such a tough question. Did your friend have any involvement with your brother?”

  “The answer is no. But what I don’t see is what one has to do with the other.”

  “It’s just a simple question, Miss Lawrence. I wouldn’t read anything into it, unless something belongs there.” From that point forward, Kirkland asked questions and made statements that implied a relationship between Travis and Bruce where none existed. Not wanting to seem defensive about the subject, Me’shelle went along and answered the questions. Kirkland didn’t even remember Travis’s name, a fact that amused Me’shelle. She wouldn’t help the detective out by saying it.

  Finally, she’d had enough.

  “Look, detective, I’ve said this before, but I’m going to try to explain it to you one more time so you understand what I’m sayin’. He did not know Bruce or Natalie. Now, I’ve sat here and listened to you make snotty innuendo after snotty innuendo first about me and now about my friend, and I really don’t appreciate it. I’ve told you what little I know about my brother and what he was into,” Me’shelle said and stood up, “so I’m going to go now.”

  Kirkland and Richards stood up. “Thank you for coming in and talking with us, Miss Lawrence,” Kirkland said. Me’shelle didn’t respond. She was expecting and apology, but since none seemed forthcoming, she started for the door. “Detective Richards will show out,” Kirkland said and left the room.

  While Detective Richards escorted Me’shelle out of the building, he offered up a half-baked apology, which he served cold. He found no takers. Me’shelle walked silently out of the building and got in her car. She understood now why Travis didn’t want to go with her to the police station to face the detective. She realized, after the treatment she received, that even though Travis didn’t know Bruce, the detective would have tried to push a connection down his throat.

  That thought made her feel a little better as she drove herself home. What was still troubling was the fact that Travis not only was a robber, but he had lied to her about it all these months. Maybe if he was honest about it from the start—Get real. If he had told you what he was doing, you wouldn’t have given him the time of day.

  She thought about something Travis had told her over dinner when he first started the programming job.

  “This is the first programming job that I’ve had in two years.”

  “How have you survived for two years without a job?” Me’shelle asked.

  “Sometimes real life leads you to make real hard choices that you normally wouldn’t.” But then the waiter arrived and broke into an elaborate description of the desserts, and she never got around to asking Travis what he meant by that. Now she wished that she had.

  What’s really bothering you? She asked herself. Is it what he does for money, or that he didn’t tell you?

  She didn’t know, but the question had to be answered.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  The day had come for Brandy to be released from the hospital. Although she was still disoriented, and still plagued by uncontrollable trembling and feelings of coldness all over her body, Brandy’s condition had improved. She began to communicate again.

  Me’shelle and her aunt arrived at the hospital early. However, when they walked into Brandy’s room, they found Detective Richards, the rape counselor, and a police sketch artist in the room with her.

  “What in God’s name is going on here?” Juanita demanded to know as soon as they came through the door.

  Brandy looked up at them and smiled. Detective Richards stood up and approached the three ladies.

  “Brandy, I needed to speak with your family for a minute. Is that okay?” Judith, the rape counselor, asked.

  Brandy nodded and glanced in Me’shelle’s direction. Seeing Me’shelle made her feel better. Brandy spoke slowly. “Can Aunt Me'shelle stay with me, Judith?”

  “Well, Brandy, honey, I really need to speak with Me’shelle too. Is that going to be okay? I promise that it won’t take long and we’ll be right outside. Is that okay?”

  “It’s okay,” Brandy said softly. Judith stood up and started for the door.

  “Judith,” Brandy called.

  Judith turned around. “Yes, Brandy?”

  Brandy pointed at the sketch artist. “I don’t want to be alone with him.” The sketch artist got up immediately and walked out of the room.

  “Does he frighten you?” Judith asked.

  “No. I just don’t want to be alone with him.”

  “He’s gone now, Brandy. But we need his help to catch the men who did this to you.”

  “I understand.”

  “I’ll stay in here with her,” Miranda offered. “I won’t do anything to upset her.”

  Judith looked at Detective Richards and he nodded. Miranda sat down next to Brandy as the others left the room.

  Once outside the room, Detective Richards explained that when Judith called and told him that Brandy could answer questions, he grabbed the sketch artist and came right down.

  “I’m sorry that I didn’t call you, but I kind of assumed one of you would be here,” Richards said.

  “That doesn’t matter,” Juanita said.

  “That girl is a minor. One of us should have been here before you asked her anything,” Me’shelle added.

  “Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have, but you haven’t exactly been cooperative, Ms. Lawrence. I thought it best that we go ahead. I haven’t asked any questions. I just listened while she told Judith what happened to her.”

  “Me’shelle,” Judith said, “I want to assure you that Brandy has been doing fine with this. She’s been able to tell us what happened that night, and was doing very well with the sketch artist.

  “Brandy told me that she felt dirty and ashamed. She may have not have been able to be as open if her family was in the room while that was going on.”

  “But Brandy wants me to stay with her,” Me’shelle protested.

  “I see that, and since she’s already told us all what happened, I’m willing to let you go back in there with us. But just you. And only if you promise to keep quiet and let us do our jobs.”

  “You act like I don’t want you to catch the people who did this to her.” Me’shelle was angry at the thought and started to say something else, but then she caught herself. The detective was right. What was important here was for them to get what they needed from Brandy, not her trampled feelings.

  “I’m sorry if I’ve given you that impression, Detective Richards. I want you to catch them, and I won’t do anything to interfere with that. But before we go back in there can you please tell me what happened?”

  “Your niece was able to tell us that there were four of them, and that she was listening when one of them killed the fourth man. She heard the men yelling at your brother about money he owed them. She hid in the closet under a pile of clothes, but they found her while they were looking for the money. After they found her, your brother told t
hem where to find his money. She said after they got the money, they raped her and her mother while your brother watched, just to teach him a lesson.”

  “Oh my,” Juanita said. Me’shelle shed tears for her brother.

  “She got away when she hit one in the head with a lamp, and her father told her to run. She doesn’t know what happened after that.”

  After hearing the story, Me’shelle wiped her eyes and followed them back into Brandy’s room. While she sat there listening to Brandy bravely describing her attackers, Me’shelle’s mind replayed the detective’s words. She heard the men yelling at your brother about money he owed them. Bruce said that if they didn’t get them their money they would kill him. She should have given him the money.

  Me’shelle looked at Brandy. I’m sorry. If I had just came off my high horse and gave Bruce the money, none of this would have happened.

  As the tears began to flow from Me’shelle’s eyes, Brandy looked over at her. “Don’t cry, Aunt Me'shelle,” Brandy said to her. “It’s gonna be all right.”

  Me’shelle quickly tried to wipe away her tears. She knew that she had to be strong for Brandy. She would have to put aside her feelings of guilt for the time being.

  The next couple of day weren’t easy for Brandy, as they were still marked by feelings of coldness and uncontrollable trembling. Brandy complained of an overall soreness of her body and had difficulty walking at times due to the pain she felt. She still had some bruises on her upper body, and she often complained of sudden, sharp pains in her vagina. There were times when Brandy would cry uncontrollably. She had headaches on a daily basis, which she attributed to having been hit in the head repeatedly during the assault.

  She didn’t talk very much, and would spend most of her day lying across her bed. One afternoon, some of her friends caught the train out to Queens to see Brandy, but she refused to see or talk to anyone. Her family did everything they could to make her comfortable and safe. One of them stayed in the room with her at all times.

  She didn’t sleep much, and when she did, she would be awoken frequently by nightmares about the assault. “I don’t like goin’ to sleep, Me’shelle,” Brandy told her.