The Man in 3B

by Weber, Carl

  “Well, Mrs. Mack, we have a warrant for your husband’s arrest, along with a search warrant for your apartment.” He looked toward one of the other men, who removed a piece of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and showed it to me. I saw the word warrant on it and Avery’s name, but how in the hell was I supposed to know a real warrant from a fake one? I didn’t have any experience with this type of thing.

  I took a breath and gathered enough courage to speak up. “Well, like I said, Avery isn’t here. He moved out. He doesn’t live here anymore.”

  “We’re still gonna go ahead and execute the search warrant.” The one who spoke this time was much more of a hard-ass. He got in my face and growled, “Mrs. Mack, let me warn you that if—”

  I raised my hand, cutting him off quick. “Oh, no need to warn me. By all means, do what you gotta do. Search your heart out.” I was not about to have them accuse me of being uncooperative, or even worse, of hiding Avery. I’d been a ride-or-die chick all my life, but if it came down to me or Avery, he was ass out. Whatever kind of mess he was wrapped up in now, he was on his own the day he asked me for a divorce.

  As I moved out of the way, the cops began to file back into my apartment.

  I leaned against the wall, folded my arms across my chest, and waited. The hallway was starting to get crowed with nosy neighbors. How embarrassing. Even Daryl was standing in front of his door. I wished he would come over and place his arm around me or something, but I understood his reluctance with him being on house arrest.

  Turning to one of the cops who waited in the hall with me, I asked, “What did Avery do? What are y’all looking for?”

  One of the suited-up men looked to the other for approval to answer my question. Once given the nod, he said, “Mrs. Mack, your husband is wanted for questioning in relation to a string of eighteen armed robberies.”

  I wanted to laugh. Eighteen robberies? Even if they had the right man, Avery hadn’t been gone long enough to commit eighteen robberies. And as much trouble as he had paying his share of the bills when we were together, he damn sure wasn’t robbing anybody then. I told the cop, “Obviously you’ve got the wrong man. Avery’s been working at the furniture store, barely making enough to pay his share of the bills around here for the past two years. He just finally got a promotion.”

  The cop corrected me. “Until he quit under duress.”

  “Avery quit his job?” I asked.

  “As a matter of fact, we believe his former employer to be one of his victims. There’s no question it was an inside job. Only a person who worked at the store would have known they keep that kind of cash on a Sunday or where they kept the safe.”

  “And know the surveillance system,” the other cop chimed in.

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I shook my head, which was already rattling from everything the authorities were telling me.

  Oh, God, I thought as reality finally set in. That’s where the money came from. And that’s why he didn’t want me to deposit the money… Oh, shit! The money’s in there!

  All of a sudden, I didn’t want them going through my apartment anymore. “Um, is this going to be quick? I’m already late for work.”

  “It might be a good idea if you call in,” an officer suggested.

  “Yes, okay, sure.” I sighed, knowing there was no way out of this. How the hell could Avery be so stupid?

  I went into the kitchen and called my boss with the excuse that I had a stomach virus. It might have been a lie, but I sure did feel sick to my stomach as I sat at the kitchen table, waiting for them to finish their search. The whole time I sat there, I was praying none of the cops would look in the cookie jar, where I’d rolled up the cash and hidden it under a layer of Chips Ahoy.

  My prayers were answered when a detective finally said, “We do thank you for your cooperation, Mrs. Mack.”

  “No problem at all,” I said as I signed the form he’d given me, listing the items they were taking as evidence. The cookie jar was not among them.

  “And Mrs. Mack, if you hear from your husband, please let him know that it’s in his best interest to turn himself in. If we find him, it could get… messy.”

  The police weren’t out of the apartment a good minute before I picked up my phone to call Avery, not sure if I was going to warn him or cuss his ass out. I would decide that when I heard his voice. I didn’t finish dialing, though, because there was a knock at the door. I threw the phone down as if it were on fire, certain that it was the cops at my door again. If I opened the door with the phone in my hand, they might think I was helping Avery to elude them. I’d watched enough Law & Order to know that wasn’t good.

  I straightened myself out and took in a deep breath as I went to open the door. Through the peephole I saw Daryl, and every muscle in my body relaxed. I unlatched the door and collapsed in his arms. All the tears I’d been holding back were pouring down my face now, soaking his shirt.

  “What the hell is going on? What was five-o doing here?” He closed the door, then took my trembling hand and walked me over to the couch.

  “It’s Avery. The police are after him. They say he’s been doing armed robberies.” Even as I said it, I still couldn’t believe it, but somehow Daryl wasn’t at all surprised.

  “Yeah, I guess it all makes sense now,” he said.

  “What makes sense?”

  “The new clothes, the new car—and the gun he damn near pulled on me the other day.”

  “What gun?

  “The other day when he was here, Avery threatened me with a gun.”

  This was getting stranger by the second. Had I ever really known my husband? “You didn’t tell me that.”

  “I’m a big boy,” Daryl said. “I can take care of myself. But I wasn’t about to push him, because he had the look.”

  “The look? What look?”

  “I really can’t explain it, Connie, other than to say in the street, people carry guns every day, but most of them are just for show because the person doesn’t have the guts to use it.” He pointed at his eyes. “Other people don’t care. It’s like they’re dead already and they don’t have anything to lose. You can see it in their eyes. Avery didn’t have those eyes when I first met him, but he does now.”

  I started to cry again because I knew that what he was saying was true. I had seen a change in Avery, and now Daryl was saying he had noticed it too. Avery was in serious trouble.

  “Oh no.” I stood up and started pacing. “I need to call him.”

  “Whoa, hold up.” Daryl stood up. “You can’t just pick up the phone and call him. You don’t know if your phone is tapped.”

  I took in Daryl’s words. As crazy as they sounded, I realized they could be true. “You’re absolutely right,” I agreed. “I’ll go find him and tell him in person.”

  I began frantically looking for my purse. I wanted to find Avery before the police did. No black woman wanted to see her man—current or ex—go to jail.

  “Hold up, Connie. Calm down. I’m not letting you go look for him.” Daryl managed to grab hold of me and rest his hands on my shoulders. That’s when it sank in that I’d kicked back into wife mode. My emotions for Avery were transparent.

  “I’m sorry, Daryl,” I apologized. “I—”

  He shook his head. “Connie, you don’t have to apologize. You have a good heart. I know you don’t want to see anybody hurt or in trouble, no matter what they’ve done to you. That’s why I care about you so much.”

  Hearing those sweet words almost made me forget about Avery.

  “Look, let me handle this. I’ll go talk to Krystal and let her know what’s going on. Let her go deal with her old man. You sit here and get yourself together, okay?”

  Daryl walked me over to the couch, where I sat down, feeling far more relaxed. I pulled him down next to me.

  “No, you and Slim don’t get along, and if he catches you down there with her, it’s gonna be a fight,” I said. “I’ll go talk to her. It’s about time the two
of us had a talk, woman to woman, anyway.”

  Nancy

  29

  I thought his ass would never leave, I thought when Charles finally left for work.

  I didn’t bother walking him to the stoop to put on our usual good-bye-kiss routine, because my mind was on other things. I couldn’t wait to get to Ben’s so he could take care of the throbbing between my legs. I’d been thinking about getting some ever since I woke up in the middle of the night after an erotic dream starring me and Ben. It had me so wet that for a second, I’d even considered waking up Charles’s snoring ass and climbing on top of him. We’d stopped having sex together a long time ago, though, and the thought of doing it with him had practically the same effect as a cold shower. I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, counting the hours until I could get out of the apartment and get me some.

  Once the kids were off to school, I didn’t even bother to get dressed. I threw on my housecoat, slid on some flip-flops, and then exited my apartment like I was busting out of jail.

  I took the stairs up to the third floor, peeking out of the stairwell before I exited. Charles and I might have had an understanding about the state of our marriage, but I didn’t see any reason to advertise that to every nosy fool in the building. I liked to keep my visits to Ben as discreet as possible, so I didn’t necessarily want to be seen knocking on his door still dressed in my nightgown. Fortunately, the halls were empty.

  I knocked on the apartment door but got no answer. After a second try, the door cracked open.

  Ben stood at the door, half awake and wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. He must have worked the night shift.

  I looked past him into the apartment and asked, “Is Benny around?”

  “He’s not here,” he answered, sounding annoyed. At first I thought he was still pissy with me about the engagement ring thing, but then he said, “He’s probably sleeping at a friend’s house.”

  Obviously things between him and his son hadn’t improved, and I was not about to make the same mistake bringing up that subject again. Best to get right to the sex, because I had urges that needed to be taken care of.

  “Good. You’re not planning on wasting any time then, are you?” I followed him into his living room, losing clothes on the way.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, barely noticing that I was also naked now.

  “I’ve been thinking about you all night. I need you, baby.” I pressed myself up against him.

  Unfortunately, my eagerness was met with a frown. Now that I was up close and personal I could see sadness in his eyes.

  “What’s wrong, Ben?”

  “I’m stressed!” he barked, making me flinch.

  I stepped away from him to be on the safe side. “Hey,” I said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but you don’t have to take it out on me, you know.”

  He didn’t respond. Didn’t even look my way. I probably should have left, considering how rude he was being, but I was horny as hell, and I didn’t want to leave until I at least tried to get some. Maybe I needed another approach.

  “Well, it looks like you need to de-stress, then. Lucky for you I know a few really good relaxation techniques.” I led him to the couch and made him sit down. I slid his boxers down around his ankles, and then I assumed my favorite position, on my knees in front of him.

  Usually Ben loved it when I gave him head. I’m damn good at it if I do say so myself. It’s a power trip for me, knowing that when I have a man inside my mouth, I’m in complete control. Shoot, I can do tricks with my tongue that most hookers don’t even know about. I know how to drive a man crazy.

  Unfortunately, after a few minutes using some of my best techniques, Ben was still barely hard.

  I stopped my tongue action and looked up at him. “Uh, hello! Is something wrong? We’ve got a slight problem down here.”

  Ben looked down like he was surprised to see me there. I swear to God, if I hadn’t spoken up, that man might have forgotten that I was even in the same room with him, let alone going down on him. That shit right there was a blow to the ego for sure. But instead of making him feel as bad as I felt now, I decided to let it slide. It was obvious something had his mind really fucked up. I could lend him my mouth later, but for now it looked like he needed me to lend an ear.

  “You all right?” I asked.

  “Huh?” he said absentmindedly. “Oh, uh, no problem. It was just feeling good is all.”

  Who did this man think he was fooling? I sighed and then slid up from between his legs to sit next to him. “Your mouth might be saying that, but your dick says otherwise.” I twisted my lips and pointed at his limp member.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” he apologized, finally sounding like his mind was here in the room with me. “Benny and I had an argument and he’s been gone a few days. I haven’t heard from him, and I have no idea where he is.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the couch.

  “It’s gonna be all right. He’ll come back, and you two will work it out.” I kissed his cheek. “You and Benny are closer than any father and son I’ve ever met.”

  “Yeah, we were once,” he said with a sigh. “Until that punk-ass pretty boy in 3B stole my son.”

  I wasn’t quite sure what he meant by stole, but my gossip-girl instincts told me there was a juicy story behind this. I couldn’t resist. I had to dig for details. “You really think Daryl stole him?”

  “Maybe that isn’t the right word, but ever since he moved in, he’s had some kinda hold over Benny. He acts like the guy’s a damn superhero or something. Like he can do no wrong.”

  I thought about the girls on the stoop—myself included—who sat out there every morning waiting for Daryl’s fine ass to walk by, and I couldn’t help but think that I kinda understood Benny’s obsession with this guy. Daryl had this magnetism that was irresistible. Of course, I couldn’t say that to Ben. He was obviously feeling rejected by his son, and as his dutiful girlfriend, I had to listen—even if all I really wanted to do was get back to work between his legs.

  “So what if he can fight and knows how to play video games?” Ben continued. “There’s a hell of a lot more to being a role model. He wasn’t around when Benny had the flu or when he broke his arm skateboarding. He damn sure wasn’t the one who made coffee and sat at the table all night when Benny had to study for finals.”

  “I know that’s right,” I replied. I could see him loosening up as he got this off his chest, and I hoped it was only a matter of time before he was relaxed enough to get busy with me.

  “Maybe I’m being paranoid, but I think he’s trying to sabotage my relationship with Benny. For all I know, he’s the one who gave Benny that gun.”

  His last words kind of pricked my conscience. I was the one who’d told him that Benny had been arrested for gun possession. I wasn’t trying to rat Benny out or anything, but I felt it was information his father needed to know. If it hadn’t been for me, Ben might never have known his son was in trouble. Now I wished I had never said anything, because they were fighting and I wasn’t getting any action. I needed to help them make up somehow, because it looked like I wasn’t going to be having sex again until they did.

  “Well, have you asked him where the gun came from?”

  “Nope,” he answered. “He’s barely been talking to me lately. Every time I see him he’s on his way out to be with Daryl. We definitely don’t talk the way we used to.”

  “You know, Ben, that’s kinda normal. Most teenagers stop talking to their parents at some point. Maybe Benny’s doing it a little later than most kids,” I suggested. “Maybe it has nothing to do with Daryl.”

  Ben gave me a skeptical look. “My son is not most kids. He wouldn’t stop talking to me for no reason. It happened right around the time he started hanging out with this guy.”

  “Well…” I leaned my back against the couch and folded my arms over my chest. “If you really want to know what’s going on in your kid’s life, you could do what
I do when they’re not talking.”

  “Oh yeah, and what’s that?” he said with a smirk.

  For a second I wanted to smack him because the sarcasm in his tone said he thought I was the last person who should be giving parenting advice. I mean, just because his son was a mini-Einstein didn’t mean he had to judge me. My kids were constantly getting into trouble at school. Did that make me a bad mother?

  I sucked my teeth at him but continued anyway. All I cared about at that moment was setting his mind at ease so he could relax and make me cum.

  I asked, “When was the last time you searched his room? Or looked through his computer?”

  “Search his room?” he said in that same dismissive tone. “I’ve never done that before, and I’m not about to start now. Who goes checking up on their twenty-one-year-old kid?”

  “Shoot, I don’t care how old my kids get. I’m gonna always be up they ass, checking up on them. You never know what kids can be up to these days.”

  He gave me a look that said, Yeah, and a lot of good that does your bad-ass kids. It’s a good thing that my kids were not something we usually discussed or Ben and I would have ended our affair a long time ago.

  “Well, the more I think about it, you’re right. He does seem to be spending an awful lot of time with Daryl. Seems like every time I see Benny he’s either with Daryl or he’s talking about Daryl.” What I was saying wasn’t even really true. I’d never heard Benny talk about Daryl. Benny was like any other kid who walked by us on the stoop. If he spoke to us at all, it was only to say hello and keep it moving. I was only trying to get back at Ben for insulting me as a mother. Shoot, I stayed married to an asshole for the sake of my kids. If anything, I deserved a mother of the year award for that.

  “You better check on your son, Ben,” I insisted. “You never know what these young people are up to these days. If he’s carrying a gun, he could be selling drugs or even using them.”

  He snapped his head in my direction. “What did you say?” Finally, I’d gotten his attention! I had to basically accuse his son of being a drug dealer to do it, but hey, can I help it if Ben pushed me that far?