Pretty Dangerous

by Emery, Lynn

  Edselle’s milk chocolate face eased into a smile. “I agree, but I wanted you to consider all of the possibilities. As for the FBI, they’ve played all the cards they have for now. It could take months, longer, for them to bring a case to confiscate your home. By then we’ll be ready for them.”

  “That just leaves the investigation into Roderick’s murder,” Willa said. She lifted both hands when they looked at her. “Hey, somebody needed to say what we were all thinking.”

  “Yeah, we have to find Roderick’s killer. Who’s with me?” MiMi stood up and put both hands on her hips. Dead silence followed instead of a chorus of assent.

  Willa stood and faced her. “Hell. No.”

  “We need to make the police look at all of the evidence. They’re stuck on me.” MiMi slapped her chest. She looked at Cedric for support, but found disappointment instead.

  Cedric crossed his arms. “Crown Protection resources will stick to on-site security and civil matters. No amateur homicide investigations.”

  “We’ll give Edselle any background information we can dig using electronic searches. But no private eye stuff. We’re talking two murders and maybe a dangerous gang.” Willa said with force.

  MiMi blinked as if the last three words had slapped her on the forehead. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “Now you’re talking sense,” Willa replied. The tension drained from her expression.

  “We could track down who else had a motive,” MiMi replied quickly. “I mean, dang, we’ve got a lot of suspects.”

  “She’s right,” Edselle cut in just as Willa scowled and opened her mouth. “I’m not saying I expect them arrest and charge MiMi, but it could happen. Her defense attorney will need alternate theories of the crime. More suspects equal reasonable doubt.”

  “Hey, what do you mean my defense attorney? You’re my lawyer.” MiMi blinked at him.

  “I’m busy on two fronts with the FBI and the Dominican business consortium. Besides, you’ll need an attorney with extensive criminal trial experience. I specialize in civil litigation and white collar crime.”

  “Murder defense is a different game,” Willa added.

  “But don’t worry. I know at least five top criminal defense lawyers.” Edselle smiled at her.

  “Oh good,” MiMi said with much less enthusiasm.

  Chapter 13

  The next morning MiMi dropped Sage off at daycare. She gave the cheerful toddler an equally bright goodbye. MiMi drove away at least satisfied that so far Sage hadn’t been affected. She’d managed to keep to Sage’s routine. Her paychecks continued thanks to the high stock she still had with Darcas. She didn’t have to dip into savings for the moment. But who knew how long Darca could keep Kerry on a leash?

  When MiMi pulled up to a red light, she glanced into the rear view mirror at herself. “Okay. Here’s the plan, girl. Keep doing a damn good job and let the dollars speak for you.”

  With her determination to hang tough firmly back in place, MiMi set out for her next stop. She pulled into the busy parking lot of Costco. The huge plain building reminded her of exactly what it was, a warehouse. Inside was a lot more welcoming though. A sleek white Acura sedan drove behind her SUV. At first MiMi didn’t find it odd. Other cars circled as shoppers looked for empty spaces or waited for cars to pull out. MiMi grabbed her leather hobo bag. Then she noticed the car didn’t move. She waved toward the store.

  “I just got here,” MiMi called to the driver. When there was no response, she shrugged and started to leave.

  “Yeah, I know,” a voice called back. “You stopped at the drive through window of the Smoothie Palace, dropped off your kid and headed here.”

  MiMi squinted at the stranger through her sunglasses, her heart thumping. Here was proof she wasn’t being paranoid. “Who are you?”

  The woman’s thick natural hair was swept back into a neat bundle of curls. Her full mouth curved up. Dark wine lipstick set against her nut brown skin accentuated the sensual look. She was dressed in navy blue pins stripped suit. The heels of her dark red pumps clicked on the pavement as she took a few steps closer.

  “Who do you think, sweetie?”

  MiMi started to give a tart reply about wasting her time, but stopped. She and the woman removed their sunglasses in sync. They gazed at each other in silence. It took a few seconds, but then MiMi hissed. “You.”

  “So you didn’t recognize me. Yvette Theirry. Nice to finally meet you.” Yvette’s smile lacked any trace if friendliness.

  “It took a minute. Now if you’d been naked, bent over and grunting like a pig in heat… well, that would have helped a lot.” MiMi put her sunglasses back on.

  Yvette’s smiled slipped a notch. “Hope you enjoyed the visual of me giving your fiancé what you couldn’t.”

  “You mean an STD?” MiMi shot back.

  “Listen, you little pie-faced bitch. You might have been the society princess he was going to wed. But I’m the freak he just loved to bed. Every chance he got. He’d leave you and call me. You didn’t have what it took,” Yvette spat.

  “What I had was a marriage proposal. Roderick wasn’t going to take you home to meet his folks. His parents are allergic to trash.”

  “I could pound your silly ass into this pavement right here, right now,” Yvette growled.

  MiMi dropped her purse on the ground and spread her arms out. “I just wish you would, heffa.”

  The woman huffed like an enraged lioness for a few seconds, but she didn’t make a move. Finally she took a step back. “I have bets placed on how long it takes the police to arrest you for Rod’s murder. Jealous society princess goes after him when she finds out he was in love with another woman. Thank goodness for anonymous tips.” She smiled at MiMi’s reaction.

  “You evil rotten…” MiMi stammered as she searched for a foul enough insult to hurl.

  Yvette cackled. “Good luck with the investigation, honey. I’ll help all I can. Help the DA get evidence to convict you that is.”

  “You’re insane!” MiMi shouted. “But for the record, Roderick wasn’t in love with you. He begged me to forgive him. He said, and this is a direct quote, ‘She was a big mistake and it didn’t mean anything to me’.”

  “You’re a liar,” Yvette hurled at her.

  “Face it, sweetie. You were barely a bump in the road on his way to me.” MiMi gave a sharp, nasty laugh.

  “I’ll be watching when the police put the cuffs on you,” Yvette screeched.

  “By the way thanks for helping me. I know your name. Roderick told me you’re an attorney, too. Did work for the Chamber of Commerce. Quite the career, he said. I can tell the police all about you.” MiMi placed a finger under her chin and struck a pose. “Hmm, let’s see. Enraged side piece learns her lover plans to dump her and marry another woman. I believe you lawyers call that reasonable doubt.”

  “Bitch, bitch, bitch!” Yvette pounded the hood of her BMW. She spun around and stomped to the passenger door. Only then did she notice a group of onlookers. “What the fuck are you assholes looking at? Mind your own damn business.”

  “Have a good one,” MiMi shouted over the roar of the Acura’s engine.

  Yvette drove off much too fast and barely missed another car. She laid on the horn and gave the other drive the finger. Seconds later she peeled off. The horn sounded three more times before MiMi guessed she exited the car lot. Only then did MiMi give in to fear. She leaned against the SUV as her legs went weak.

  “Are you okay, ma’am?” A lanky redheaded teenager said. An older woman peered over his shoulder. “Mom called security in the store.”

  His mother mustered enough courage to step around her son. “They should be here any minute. I got her license plate just in case. You should get a protective order, sugar. Over a man, right?” The woman had dark auburn hair and freckles.

  “Mom, seriously?” Her son wore an embarrassed frown.

  “My second ex-husband put me through it. His mistress called me at work. Take my advice an
d get rid of the bum.” The woman gave a sharp nod.

  “Already taken care of,” MiMi muttered. She squinted in the direction Yvette had gone.

  ****

  Three and half hours later Jazz showed up at MiMi’s house for lunch. Their get together was decidedly more urban casual in fact than lunch with Adrienne. They sat on MiMi’s patio. The April heat promised the typical south Louisiana summer to come. A breeze stirred making the late spring day pleasant. Still they also sat outside so Jazz could smoke her usual cigarillos.

  “You need to give up those things.” MiMi stared at her uneaten chicken salad sandwich from Jason’s Deli. She loved their gourmet version of the dish, but her appetite was off.

  “You could use one after facing Satan’s second cousin this morning,” Jazz retorted. She shook her head as she tapped the end of the cigarillo on the ash tray. “Damn, the crazy is real. She’s actually going after you. I mean shit; the man is stone cold dead.”

  “Please, be a little more sensitive. He was my fiancé after all,” MiMi murmured. She chewed on her fingernail. “Thanks for adding me to your Costco membership card. I’ll need to stock up on staples when I lose my job.”

  “Stop thinking the worse is about to happen.” Jazz waved a hand.

  MiMi laughed so hard she bent double for a few seconds. Seconds later she gasped for air until she could talk. “The FBI, the local cops, a Dominican cartel and a crazy woman. I’m already up to my neck in the worse that could happen.”

  Jazz gaped at her for several seconds before she burst out laughing. “You’re right. Anything else got to be a big improvement. You just stole my damn record for being in deep shit.” She howled.

  “Stop it,” MiMi rasped between giggles. “I’m going to pee in my pants.”

  “Wait, wait. I got something worse. Your mama and daddy move in with you.” Jazz pointed at MiMi and snapped her fingers.

  MiMi let out a squeak of horror. Wiped her eyes and took a gulp of her lemonade. “If I lose everything, I could have to move in with them.”

  Jazz put out her cigarillo. “Nope, you don’t. My business is going good. I bought a small complex of condos as an investment. Got a good deal on it before gentrification sent prices way up. The renovation is about finished.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “If you don’t mind living in a house bought with the profits from almost naked pole dancers, it’s all yours.” Jazz’s pretty cinnamon brown eyes sparkled.

  MiMi sat still and quiet for a few minutes, tears sliding down her face. Then she was sobbing into both hands. Jazz put one arm around her shoulder and kept handing her paper napkins. MiMi tried to gain control, but it was no use. So she rode the wave of her crying jag. After a minute or so, she hiccupped to a halt. Blinking hard, she blew into the wad of soggy napkins.

  “Here, dump that mess in here.” Jazz stood next to her holding the kitchen trash can.

  “Thanks.” MiMi tossed them in, then went into the half bath on the first floor. She returned to the patio after freshening up.

  “Feel better?” Jazz lit another cigarillo.

  “Yes.”

  “Good for you. Now my damn nerves are shot. Dealing with hysterical folks ain’t in my vocabulary.” Jazz puffed and aimed a stream of smoke over her head.

  “Yeah, yeah, you’re trying to play so cool. But you put it on the line for people you care about. Willa is the same; Mama Ruby, Mr. Elton, your brothers. Even Cedric and Kay are so good to me.” MiMi’s lip trembled.

  Hey, don’t start again. Sheesh.”

  MiMi sniffed. “What you offered means a lot to me. I tried to hang tough for the past few weeks. It seems like the entire universe is out to get me in one way or another.”

  “I know that feeling.” Jazz sat forward. “Look, just how crazy is this whatever-her-name-is bitch?”

  “Yvette Theirry, and I’ll bet crazy is her middle name. She had this wild look in her eyes. I think she was obsessed with Roderick, almost like she owned him.” MiMi shook her head as she remembered their encounter.

  “Hmm, crazy enough to kill him sounds like. We need to keep eyes on her. A psycho like that could do something nuts like set your house on fire, with you in it.” Jazz stabbed out her cigarillo. She took out her cell phone and texted.

  “Yeah, well I lost my temper and made things worse.” MiMi let her head fall back.

  “How?” Jazz continued to text.

  “I called her a side piece, Roddy’s freak for a temporary thrill. But his real life would be with me.” MiMi heaved a deep sigh and reached for the glass of lemonade.

  “Truth?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact. Roderick would have married me. A lot of society wives look the other way to keep their fancy lifestyles.”

  “I’m shocked,” Jazz drawled, still texting persons unknown for the moment.

  MiMi sat forward. “I couldn’t play by those rules. You know my sister basically told me that’s how her marriage is? The perfect upper-class family in the big house is just a front. Chris has a lover. She all but admitted she has one, too.”

  “Gasp. You’ve shaken my faith in humanity.”

  “I’m serious, Jazz. I always thought Adrienne would gut Chris if she found out he had a mistress. But she shrugged it off.” MiMi relaxed back in her chair and sipped more lemonade.

  “Fascinating,” Jazz mumbled without looking up from her phone.

  “Guess they’ve grown jaded, love turned to bitterness. Like Mother and Daddy.” MiMi gasped, eyes wide. “You don’t think my parents have lovers? No, I don’t even want to think about it.”

  “Then don’t, but they probably have gotten their freak on at some point,” Jazz tossed back casually still reading the screen.

  “Oh geez, thanks for putting that picture in my brain,” MiMi blurted out.

  “Okay, look, Willa and Cedric are going to get information on Yvette the Weird. If she makes a move to head this way, my guys will deal with her.” Jazz tapped a message and then put the cell phone on the table.

  “You’re going to have them shoot her or something!” MiMi grabbed Jazz’s arm.

  Jazz shook free and picked up her glass of cola. “Stop being a soap opera drama queen. You think I go around ordering hits on people? Don’t answer.”

  “Well, you have been known to hang out with gangsters. Guys with gold chains, no jobs and lots of cash,” MiMi said.

  She rolled her eyes at MiMi. “Marlon, D-Day and Zedonté work security for me at the club and my rental property.”

  “D-Day?”

  “He knows how to launch an all-out attack when needed, but he’s reformed. Mostly.” Jazz shrugged. “The point is they’re not gang members.”

  “You mean they’re not gang members now,” MiMi added.

  “Exactly the kind of security I need. Reverend Fisher ran them through the program at his church. They’re good guys. All they want is to live normal and not have to watch their backs twenty-four seven. Street life is no fun, take it from me.” Jazz stared down MiMi’s attempt at passing judgment.

  MiMi raised both palms out. “I’ll take your word for it. You’re like the Mother Teresa of former gangstas.”

  Jazz let out a howl of outrage along with a string of cuss words. The musical chimes sounded, a signal someone was at the front door. MiMi laughed all the way through the house to answer. She peeped outside to see a short brown woman. A tall uniformed policewoman was beside her. Not good news from the stone-faced expression they wore. She swung open the door.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Good afternoon. I’m Mrs. Ola Young with the Louisiana Department of Children and Families. Ms. MiMi Landry?” The woman gazed at MiMi.

  “Yes.” MiMi glanced from her to the police officer.

  The woman flashed a plastic card with a bad picture on it. “Here is my identification. And my card. May we come in?”

  MiMi stared at the identification. Then she took the card. “Wait a minute. You’re with the agency that l
icenses day care centers. Is Sage alright?”

  “Nothing happened at the day care center, and your daughter is safe. May we come in?” Mrs. Young’s tone sounded less like a question than an order.

  “Okay, but I expect answers and fast.”

  MiMi swung the heavy door wide. She examined the two women as they walked by her. Once she pushed the door closed, MiMi led them deeper inside the house. The policewoman’s gaze seemed to take in the foyer and living room with professional efficiency. Most likely the officer would have been able to describe every significant detail she noticed.

  “What is this concerning since my daughter isn’t involved?” MiMi glanced from the policewoman to the social worker.

  “I said your daughter is safe, but this is about a report we received about her care.” Mrs. Young faced MiMi.

  “I’ve never had a complaint about her day care center or noticed anything wrong. I checked them out before she enrolled.” MiMi frowned at them.

  “The report was about how you care for your daughter, Ms. Landry. Maybe we should sit down. I can—”

  “Wait a minute,” MiMi cut her off. She noticed the policewoman position herself in a defensive position. “What about how I care for Sage?”

  Mrs. Young seemed unfazed by her reaction. “We have a report that you’ve been neglecting her medical care and she’s showing signs of emotional abuse. Apparently you’ve been involved in alleged illegal drug activity, a murder investigation and left the child alone while out with… several male friends.”

  MiMi tried to talk but couldn’t for a few seconds. The word abuse had slammed into her chest and she felt breathless. “Lies, those are all lies.”

  “One of the daycare attendants reports that Sage has been crying a lot and seems to startle easily. She also has a bruise on her left thigh,” Mrs. Young said.

  “She’s still unsteady on her little feet, like most toddlers. Sage tried to climb down from her booster seat and hit her leg. She didn’t even cry when it happened. I can’t believe this.” MiMi pressed a hand to her forehead. “You can’t take my baby.”

  “Ms. Landry, we’re only investigating at this point. Tell me about the accident that caused the injury,” Mrs. Young said.