Addicted to an Addict

by Honey

  “Hell yeah.”

  Brett laughed as he turned on the TV and flipped to BET. Then he grabbed a beer from a bag on the dresser and took a seat at the foot of the bed. Mink watched him in silence as she finished off her food. When her thoughts drifted to Josiah and her babies, she opened the vodka bottle again and started gulping it down fast. She needed to shush the damn crying baby and escape the pain and sorrow that was gnawing a hole in her heart. Numbing her senses with drugs and alcohol was the only way she knew how to cope.

  * * *

  “Mom-eeeee! I want my mom-eeeee!”

  “Daddy! Daddy! Come quick! Mommy is on TV!”

  All four adults in the kitchen looked at each other for a hot second. Then they hopped up from the table and took off running with Josiah leading the way. Treasure was jumping up and down, screaming and crying hysterically for her mommy. Gem was just standing in front of the television, staring at the pictures of Mink flashing across the screen, showing no emotion at all.

  “Who left the damn TV on that channel?” Jeremiah roared.

  Gypsie quickly grabbed the remote control and turned the television off.

  “I did,” Josiah confessed, rocking his upset baby girl in his arms. “I forgot to turn it back to Nickelodeon.”

  Myrlie leaned down and wrapped her arms around Gem. “There ain’t no need for cussing and fussing. It was a mistake.”

  A heavy cloud of tension lingered in the den. Treasure’s soft whimpers were heartbreaking. The spirit of Mink was a powerful negative force on her family. No matter how near or far away she was from them in the flesh, her actions continued to bring them grief.

  “I’ll take them upstairs for their baths now,” Gypsie said softly and reached for Treasure.

  “Nooo!” She squeezed her daddy’s neck tight and shook her head. “I want to see my mommy on TV again!”

  “I’ll give them their baths and read to them before I put them to bed, Gypsie. You and J will have to start the conference call with the team without me. I’ll join in later.”

  “Okay.”

  “Come on, Gypsie and Mama. Let’s finish eating.”

  Josiah and his daughters headed for the staircase while the others returned to the kitchen.

  * * *

  Mink stepped out of the shower and started drying her body with a dingy, stained white motel towel. Just one peep at her reflection in the mirror caused tears to puddle in her eyes once again. It was going to take some time for her to get used to her new makeover. She’d bawled like a spoiled brat earlier this morning after Brett helped her cut her hair down to a tiny, curly Afro, three inches from her scalp. The sandy locks of her hair were still on the dresser because she didn’t have the heart to throw them away.

  Mink had always worn her hair long and natural because she hated chemicals. Other than shampoo, conditioner, and organic oils, an electric straightening comb on occasion had been the only other hair-care essential she’d ever used. The generic-brand cranberry-red hair dye she’d colored her new Afro with this morning was her virgin hair’s intro to harsh chemicals. It looked awful against her butterscotch skin and coppery eyes, she thought for the hundredth time as she raked her fingers through her short curls.

  Mink wrapped the towel around her body, opened the door, and padded out of the bathroom on bare feet.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” The maid dropped the dust rag and held up both hands. Her long ponytail swung from side to side as she shook her head. “I knock on door. No answer. Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! I go!”

  “Yeah, your taco-eating ass better get the hell out of here!”

  Clearly frightened, the maid bent down and picked up the rag from the floor. Her eyes darted back and forth between Mink’s frowning face and the cleaning caddy she’d placed on the dresser while she tidied the room. She placed the can of furniture polish and the bottle of glass cleaner inside of the caddy. Then, in a rush to leave, she knocked the empty box of hair dye and some of Mink’s hair off the dresser and on to the floor.

  “Bitch, get your clumsy ass out of my goddamn room! You’re up in here knocking shit over like you got Tourette’s or something. Get out!” She yanked the door wide open. “And learn to speak English!”

  “Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!”

  Mink slammed the door and locked it. Then she reached for the security chain, but it was broken. Sucking her teeth, she walked over to the dresser and picked up the vodka bottle. After she removed the top, she killed the corner she’d saved after her breakfast binge. Who knew cheap vodka and a Waffle House all-star special would taste so good together?

  Now that she had a little alcohol buzz, it was time for Mink to get dressed so she could hit the streets. That smack was calling her name, and she was going to answer the call just as soon as she made herself presentable. But she couldn’t do that until Brett got back. He had gone to the liquor store and one of those no-contract cell phone places. He was scared to use his phone to call his friend, Lucky, again, because the police were probably keeping tabs on all of his kinfolks and friends since several anonymous callers had identified him and the white dude. Once he got an untraceable cell phone, Brett was supposed to find a dollar store to buy Mink some lotion, hair moisturizer, and a tube of red lipstick. There wasn’t enough time to pack toiletries before they left Norm M.’s apartment. It was a miracle she’d been able to bring as many clothes and shoes as she had.

  “Jesus,” Mink whispered when she thought about her poor friend.

  She had never meant for Norm M. to get caught up in her bullshit, and she damn sure hadn’t expected him to get killed. But crime and misfortune usually came along with chronic drug addiction for the addict as well as the people around them. No one was exempt.

  Antsy and impatient, Mink slid into a black bra and a matching pair of boy shorts. Her body tremors and nausea were becoming hard to ignore. And that nagging itch was driving Mink crazy. She couldn’t stop scratching her dry skin. Brett needed to hurry up so she could finish getting dressed and go handle her business. If he didn’t return soon, Mink’s impulsiveness was going to drive her to do something stupid. . . . Like she always did.

  Chapter Fifty-three

  Election Day

  “Some people are just stupid,” Connor whispered.

  Gypsie nodded quietly in agreement.

  “As much as JoJo has done to improve this damn city, I can’t believe some people have decided to stay away from the polls today. It’s really fucked-up.”

  “His numbers are still strong in every one of the predominantly black areas. Our volunteers have been busy since seven o’clock this morning, giving voters rides to the polls,” Nelson chimed in. “The phone lines are busy because folks are still calling.”

  Connor eyed Jeremiah directly. “Do you think we should tell him about the low turnout in some of our stronghold areas?”

  “What good will it do him?” He shook his head. “Nah, man. He’s already dealing with enough, so he doesn’t need to know about it.”

  “What don’t I need to know?”

  Everyone sitting around the conference table at Josiah’s campaign headquarters turned around at the sound of his voice. He had caught them off guard because they’d left him in the main area with dozens of volunteers. At first, no one said a word as he walked farther into the room.

  “What’s up, JoJo?”

  “You tell me. You and the team are in here huddled up, whispering about something you apparently don’t want me to know.” He took a seat at the conference table next to Connor. “So, y’all want to keep secrets from me, huh? What’s the big secret, Geisel?”

  She turned her head and looked at Jeremiah without parting her lips.

  Josiah smiled at Seth Benedict, his deputy chief of staff. “My man, Seth, talk to me.”

  The silence was his reply.

  “Voters in traditionally Democratic affluent areas are not voting, sir,” Connor blurted out to Jeremiah’s anger.

  “C
onnor, you run your mouth like a little bitch!”

  “He has a right to know!”

  “I decide—”

  “Whoooa! Are you two serious right now?” Josiah barked. “Let’s talk like grown-ass men. I’m glad Connor gave me a head’s-up on the low voter turnout. Actually, you should’ve been the one to tell me, J. You know I ain’t weak like that. Bad news has never broken me. How come folks aren’t voting, though?”

  Everybody cast their eyes on the bigmouthed drama king.

  “They don’t like Lomax because he’s a Republican. But they aren’t sure if you’re up to leading the city another four years because of your family issues. It’s dumb because you have been a great mayor in spite of everything you’ve been through. It’s a damn shame that some people are too full of shit to see it.”

  Josiah patted Connor’s shoulder. “It’s just an election. If I lose for whatever reason, it won’t be the end of my life. I’ll go back to my law firm and resume my duties there. And every one of you, as well as the rest of my staff, will receive excellent letters of recommendation from me to assist with finding suitable employment. Life will go on for all of us regardless of the results of the election tonight. I will be fine, so don’t worry about me. As long as my daughters are healthy and sane, I’ll be just fine.”

  * * *

  Mink jerked and gasped when Brett banged hard on the door. She jumped up from the chair, cursing him out under her breath. He’d been gone all morning, and now it was late in the afternoon. She was hungry and experiencing grave withdrawal symptoms. Her Waffle House breakfast and the cheap vodka had kept her running to the bathroom vomiting and shitting until her stomach was empty and aching.

  “What the hell did you do with your key?” Mink shouted as she turned the doorknob and yanked it open.

  “Police! Step back and get down on your knees! Do it now!” one of the three uniformed officers yelled with their firearms aimed at her.

  Mink shuffled backward, stumbling with her hands in the air before falling awkwardly to her knees. She was afraid to look up to see what was going on, but she heard doors opening and slamming shut and stuff being thrown around. It sounded like one of the officers was reporting every move to someone on a radio. Mink was too damn shocked and sick to her stomach to cry. It seemed like the chaos was unfolding in slow motion, but her mind still couldn’t quite grasp it.

  “Get up slowly with both hands on your head.”

  Mink did exactly what the officer had ordered. When she stood up, she looked into the faces of two white male officers and a redbone female, rocking a short do like Halle Berry back in the day. Dressed only in a black bra and panties, Mink shivered when a sneaky chill wrapped around her body. The sista in uniform stepped forward as her fellow officers kept their guns trained on their suspect.

  “Are you Mink Sinclair Bishop?”

  Finally, reality slapped Mink dead in her face. Tears sprang forth from her eyes. She swallowed hard and nodded her head. “Yes, ma’am.”

  As the policewoman Mirandized her and clamped the cold steel cuffs on her wrists, Mink’s stomach began to churn and growl. She dry heaved a few times, causing saliva to seep from the right corner of her mouth and drip down the side of her chin.

  “I want you to sit down on the bed while I find a pair of pants or a skirt and a shirt for you to put on. I’ll release the cuffs and assist you getting dressed, but don’t move or do anything stupid. Do you understand?”

  Staring at the officers holding the guns, Mink whispered, “Yes, ma’am.”

  Five minutes later, all three officers and their suspect exited the motel room, and a pair of plainclothes cops entered to wait for Brett to return. He was in for a big, unpleasant surprise.

  Mink held her head down, attempting to hide her face from a group of people standing in the motel’s parking lot. For some strange reason, she looked to her left as they approached the blue and white police cruiser. Standing no more than five feet away was the petite Hispanic maid Mink had been so mean and condescending to just for the hell of it. The woman quickly lowered her eyes to the pavement before she turned and walked away.

  * * *

  The victory party crowd went wild when Josiah started moon walking down the Soul Train line to Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean.” His little dance partners, Gem and Treasure, were busting their own moves to energetic handclaps and cheers. Before the trio reached the end of the line, the deejay killed the music.

  “Ladies and gentleman, we have an update!” Jeremiah announced over the microphone. “With 48 percent of all precincts reporting, Mayor Bishop has 26,791 votes, and Dendrick Lomax has 25,643!”

  Deafening cheers and applause shook the building. Grateful for even a slight lead, Josiah picked Treasure up and spun around in a circle. Her high-pitched squeal mixed in with the music, which the deejay had cranked up again, and the loud victory chants. Josiah’s supporters had more confidence than he did. They were already claiming a win, although it wasn’t time for the fat lady to sing yet.

  “Josiah,” Gypsie whispered in his ear. She’d suddenly appeared in his personal space undetected like a ghost. “You’re needed in the office right away.”

  Quietly, Josiah placed Treasure on her feet and guided her to the table where his parents were seated with some church members. Gem followed them. “I need to check on something in the back, so you two stay here with Nana and Papa.”

  “Yes, Daddy,” Treasure said.

  Gem took a seat next to Rev. “Okay.”

  Following Gypsie toward the office, Josiah’s heart began to race a hundred miles a minute. He didn’t know what to expect. Had some new results come in, putting him behind Lomax? He got the answer to his question the moment they entered the office. There was a breaking news report on TV from a local news channel. Mink had been found and arrested at a motel in Buffalo, New York. The Erie County Sheriff’s Department had processed her and contacted the NYC authorities who had already flown upstate to receive their most popular fugitive of the week and transport her to NYPD Central Booking.

  “I need to get to New York. Mink needs me. I have to get her an attorney and—”

  “I’ll book a flight for you ASAP. I’m sure there’s a red-eye I can get you on.”

  “Nah, Gypsie,” Josiah said softly with his eyes still fixated on the TV. “I’ll fly up in the morning. Win or lose, I want to finish out the night dancing, eating, and having a good time with my girls, my parents, and the rest of the people I care about.”

  * * *

  “I ain’t saying shit!” Mink hugged her body tighter against the tremors and chills. “I know my damn rights! I’m married to an attorney-turned-politician. Don’t forget that shit. Y’all might as well take me back to my cell because I ain’t telling y’all a goddamn thing until I get a lawyer. My husband will get me one soon. You can believe that.”

  The older detective of the two interrogating Mink scowled at her. She knew by his beet-red face and flaring nostrils that he was frustrated because she was refusing to answer any of their questions. But she didn’t give a damn. Although she felt responsible for Norm M.’s death, Brett had beaten the life out of him with that damn candleholder. Mink wasn’t about to take the blame for that or anything else she hadn’t done.

  “Brett Searcy said you killed Norman Murchison. He claims the whole setup was your idea. He told us he had never laid eyes on the victim until the morning you invited him and his friend, Corey Slade, over to the Park Avenue apartment to rob Murchison and murder him.”

  “That’s a motherfucking lie! I called and asked Brett to bring that white dude to Norm M.’s apartment to—” Mink started laughing. Rocking back and forth in the plastic chair, she scratched her chin and neck roughly and narrowed her eyes at both men sitting across the table from her. “You motherfuckers think y’all slick. My lips are sealed until I get a lawyer, but I’ll tell you this for free. I didn’t kill Norm M., and I didn’t set him up to be killed. Brett acted alone. I swear to God he did. N
ow, I want to make my phone call.”

  Chapter Fifty-four

  “Hello?”

  “JoJo, it’s me.”

  There was a moment of silence on the line while Josiah tried to bring his emotions under control. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m in a damn cage, JoJo. How okay can I be?”

  “Well, at least I know where you are.” I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry, Josiah chanted silently. “I know you didn’t kill Mr. Murchison, but I need to hear you say it.”

  “I did not kill Norm M., and I didn’t set him up either. I had no idea that fool was going to try to steal some of his shit and beat him to death. See—”

  “Be quiet, Mink. This call is being monitored. You can tell me everything when your lawyer and I visit you tomorrow.”

  “Oh, hell yeah! I knew you would get me one of them expensive celebrity lawyers to make this shit go away. These people don’t know who the hell they’re fucking with. I’m Mink Bishop, Josiah Bishop’s wife. So, what time will you and my lawyer get here tomorrow?”

  “My flight will leave Atlanta at nine o’clock in the morning and arrive in New York shortly after eleven. I’ll go straight to your lawyer’s office to confer with him and his team, and then he and I will visit you at two o’clock sharp. Everything has already been set up.”

  “Thank God because I can’t take it in here. You got to get me—”

  “Mink, the judge hasn’t set a bond for you yet. Your first court appearance isn’t until Friday.”

  “Friday? Uh-uh, JoJo, I can’t stay in this shit hole until Friday. I’m ready to get the hell up out of here.”

  Sighing, Josiah said, “You can’t. You’ll have to wait and allow the process to play out. I’ve got to go now.”

  “Why? What are you doing that’s so important you can’t talk to your wife?”

  “It’s election night, so I’m hanging out with the girls, the rest of the family, and friends. I won, by the way.”

  “Oh, that’s good. I knew you would. So, how much do you think my bond is going to be? I hope you won’t have to put our house up. I love our home. Remember when we first bought it?”