Best Enemies (A Triple Trouble Mystery)

by Lynn Emery

  “Fine. I don’t want to mess with you being super mama, all perfect and shit.” Jazz spit out the words. She stood, purse on her shoulder again. “

  “I’m no where near perfect, all right? It’s just I have different values as a mother.” Willa puffed out a sigh of frustration. She instantly knew her attempt to explain had come out wrong. “What I’m saying is— ”

  Jazz held up one hand, palm out like a cop stopping traffic. “Oh, I know damn well what you’re sayin’.”

  “I’m screwing this up. Look, I really appreciate you throwing them out.” Willa gazed at her baby sister. Jazz stood with both hands on her hips glaring at her. “I’m guessing you had a few choice words for them, too.”

  “I told them to stop bein’ stupid. That they could get the club shut down and me unemployed.” Jazz’s hard expression eased a bit. “Better that than to say they were outta their league. That would have only made them pissed.”

  Willa nodded, understanding the psychology behind her actions. “Pissed enough to prove they’re men by doing something even more stupid. Thanks, Jazz.”

  “Yeah, well.” Jazz fidgeted with the tassel dangling from her purse. “At least you know where he was that night. I’ll bet he went on home with his pal. I kinda acted like your aunt Ametrine and poured on the guilt.”

  Willa blinked hard at her. “What night?”

  “The night Jack got killed. Anthony said he was gonna tell you. Anyway, Jack came in later and— ” Jazz stopped when she saw Willa’s expression. “What?”

  “You saw both Jack and Anthony the night Jack was murdered? And you’re just now telling me this?” Willa was in Jazz’s face shouting.

  The door to her office flew open. Cedric strode in with Kay right behind him. Both wore worried frowns.

  “Is there a problem?” Cedric looked at Willa then Jazz.

  “Nah, ain’t no problem. Drama queen here is freakin’ per usual,” Jazz said. “I’ve had my daily dose of soap opera so I’m leavin’.”

  Willa grabbed Jazz’s left arm and snatched her back as she tried to leave. “Oh hell no. Y’all excuse us a minute.”

  “Heffa, you best get control before I whip your ass up in here.” Jazz pulled away then cursed when Willa’s grip tightened.

  “I need to talk to my sister. Leave us alone for a minute,” Willa said, struggling to keep her voice down and her words polite. Out of the corner her eye she saw a curious crowd of employees and clients gathering in the lobby. No doubt they had ears strained to hear.

  Cedric looked at both women as though making sure neither had weapons. “You sure?”

  Willa only nodded. She and Jazz stared at each other as Cedric and Kay left. When the door closed Willa loosened her hold. Jazz jerked her arm free and stomped to the other side of the room.

  “You better tell right now why the hell I’m just hearing this,” Willa said.

  “What you gonna do? Beat me down? Please. You couldn’t whip me on your best day.” Jazz tossed the challenge over her shoulder. She wore her tough hood girl persona like a suit of armor.

  Any other time Willa would have seen through her, would have ached for the hurt kid she knew was inside. But now they were talking about Willa’s son. Her baby.

  “Tell me about that night,” Willa replied in a controlled voice. Something in her tone seemed to crack through Jazz’s defense.

  “I was gonna tell you. I mean, I didn’t realize it was the same night until a couple of days later. But you knew Anthony had been hanging with his friend that night. So I figured, you’d know.” Jazz walked around the office picking up and putting down things. First an ink pen, then a framed photo of Jack shaking hands with the mayor.

  “No. I’m not buying it.” Willa blocked the path to her office door. She stood with her legs apart, arms at her sides. She was fully prepared to physically stop Jazz from leaving.

  Jazz pushed out a harsh breath and faced Willa. “Okay fine. I was tryin’ not to rock your perfect little bourgie world. But since you insist. Jack used to stop by the club. He was dating one of the girls, Nailah. When she left to work at Sugar and Spice Jack started hangin’ there mostly. But every now and then he would come by to say hello. Him and his church buddies.”

  “Names?” Willa prodded.

  “Some deacon. Liked me to call him Big Ike. Always braggin’ about his size. If you know what I mean” Jazz rolled her eyes in a way that said she’d heard it all.

  “What about a preacher?” Willa felt a nasty sick feeling grow in her stomach.

  Jazz waved a hand. “We have a private entrance for the VIP section. The boss opened it two years ago for people who want to keep their partyin’ habits quiet.” Jazz’s cynical smile distorted her pretty face in a way that made Willa’s heart ache.

  “Reverend Lawrence Fisher?”

  “We don’t have a damn guest book at the club. All them guys blend in to one big blur after awhile.” Jazz shrugged. She sat down in the chair again.

  Willa wasn’t sure she believed her. “When did Jack leave that night and who was he with?”

  “I got busy gettin’ ready for my act. Maybe around ten. Jack came to my dressing room to say bye. Far as I know he was alone.” Jazz fidgeted with her purse again. She concentrated on the leather as though the pattern fascinated her. “Anyway, doesn’t matter. He was fine. Just happened to stop by that night. Ain’t got nothin’ to do with him being robbed by some crack head.”

  “Maybe someone from the club followed him. Jack wore an expensive watch. Dressed nice. He was driving his Jaguar. Jack could have been killed by one of your customers. You have to talk to Miller.”

  “I already have.” Jazz’s dark eyes sparkled with fear. Her long fingers clutched the purse until her long acrylic nails dug into it. “Somehow he found out Jack was at the club.”

  “So you told him all this.” Willa felt a chill. “About Anthony, too.”

  Jazz stood and walked to Willa. “No. I left out a few details. Anthony went home with his friend. So him being at the club had nothin’ to do with Jack showing up later. Nothin’ at all.”

  Willa opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t form words. They both knew Miller wouldn’t see it that way. And if Anthony was there, maybe he knew something about Jack’s movements. Willa fought the urge to cry. Why couldn’t she keep her kids safe, innocent of the dirty side of life? All of her efforts seemed pitifully inadequate. Willa felt as though her birth family’s sordid ghetto lifestyle clung to her like a greasy fog.

  Willa closed her eyes to fight the dizzy nauseous feeling. “I’ve got to do something.”

  “Listen to me, you don’t do or say anything. You actin’ like the police are our friends. Hell, I didn’t even believe that in grade school when the cops would pass out candy. I knew better.” Jazz pointed at her. “Keep your mouth shut.”

  “If Miller traced Jack to the club he’s going to find out.” Willa forced her mind to work around the fear taking hold. “Think, think, think.”

  “Anthony didn’t kill Jack,” Jazz said in a calm low voice.

  “I know that. Hell, I don’t need you to tell me my child didn’t— ” Willa started to shake. She dropped down onto the small leather sofa.

  Jazz leaned forward. “Just be cool, awright? Miller can find out whatever he’s gonna find out, but not so fast. Ain’t nobody talkin’. That gives you time to be ready.”

  Willa gazed at her sister. “Right.”

  Jazz stood and crossed to Willa. She put a hand on Willa’s shoulder briefly then pulled it back. “Anthony is gonna be safe. We’ll make sure. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Willa felt numb as she watched Jazz walk to the door.

  “I’ll call you in a few days. Sooner if I hear anything about the police being back at the club.” Jazz nodded once then went through the door.

  Moments later Cedric came in without knocking. “Tell me what’s going on, Willa.”

  For a panicked moment Willa thought she was going to throw up. She clamped a h
and over her mouth. The sick feeling subsided. Cedric left the office, but came back moments later with a can of soda and a plastic cup.

  “Breathe deep and slow, then drink this. It will settle your stomach.” Cedric sat next to Willa. “Sip a little at a time.”

  Willa followed his directions. His solid arm was around her shoulder when Kay came in. The worry lines on Kay’s forehead deepened when she looked at Willa.

  “What can I do?” Kay said to Cedric.

  “If we have any appointments shuffle them to later if you can,” Cedric said.

  “I can have Chris meet with Eric Harrington about the security at the high school games. You’ve got Mrs. Sandifer coming in at two-thirty.” Kay didn’t need to consult her computer.

  “I’m okay,” Willa said, fighting to regain her composure. She put down the cup of soda on the table nearby. “Business as usual.”

  Cedric and Kay looked at each other. Kay left at a discreet nod from Cedric. One of his big hands covered both of Willa’s.

  “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Just a bit of family drama. Nothing serious. Jazz and me have our moments like a lot of sisters.” Willa sprang from the sofa and went to her desk.

  “I can’t help if you won’t let me.” Cedric stood. He stared at Willa hard.

  “I promise to ask for your help when I need it.” Willa smiled at him and hoped the effort didn’t fail. His expression told her it had.

  “If what went down between you and your sister just now has something to do with Jack’s murder.” Cedric stopped. “Don’t wait too late to ask.”

  “Thanks. I want to meet more clients since I’m the boss, right?” Willa changed the subject.

  “Right.” Cedric gazed at her a few seconds longer then left.

  Willa went to the office door and locked it. She punched in her mother’s number first. Next she would call her brothers. Then she would call Brad Craft, her former boss at the law firm of Craft, Mouton and LaPlace. Legal advice seemed like a very good idea.

  ***

  Hours later Willa had succeeded against the odds. She’d actually gotten work done at the office. On her mother’s advice she hadn’t raced to pull Anthony out of school to grill him. Mama was right. Anthony would likely dig in his heels in and refuse to talk. Or worse, he might lie to Willa. Besides, although Willa had skills interviewing witnesses for her old law firm, for rooting out the truth, when it came to family avoiding the truth was her main coping strategy. Long ago as a kid in the child welfare system Willa had learned to hate therapy. Or as she called it “Spill your guts until you cry and throw up.” Those social workers thought a family sharing their feelings was a good thing. Bull. Willa very much valued the let-sleeping-dogs-lie problem solving method.

  On the drive home her instinct to avoid bad news was in full force. By the time she pulled into her driveway Willa was rehearsing ways to let Anthony off the hook. She pulled into the garage and hit the remote. As the garage door slid down smoothly Mikayla peered through the window set in the back door. Seconds later Mikayla came into the garage. She hopped around on the concrete floor causing her thick braids to bounce.

  “Mama, mama. Guess what? Guess what? Mrs. Anderson picked me to play fairy godmother in the play,” Mikayla blurted out unable to wait for Willa to guess.

  “Congratulations. You’ll do a wonderful job I know.” Willa kissed her forehead. Well, at least someone would be in a good mood in the Crown house tonight.

  “Thank you. I have a list of everything I’m going to need. Mrs. Tate and Mr. Jenkins will make the costumes. Let’s go.” Mikayla tugged on Willa’s hand urging her back toward the car.

  “Go? I just got here. We’re going to have dinner, I’ll look over the list and this weekend we’ll shop.” Willa spoke in her steady “mama knows best” tone.

  “Aw Mama,” Mikayla replied in her well-practiced whiny tone.

  “Aw daughter,” Willa whined back. She grinned when Mikayla made a face that reminded her of Mama Ruby.

  “Fine. Make me wait longer than the other kids. We start rehearsing in two days. I’m going to practice my lines.” Mikayla stomped off like a diva.

  “Hmm.” Willa saw a bright red folder on the kitchen counter. In it was a letter from the Mrs. Anderson; the rehearsal schedule Mikayla had dramatically announced. Willa shook her head as she went through the kitchen and down the hallway to her bedroom. As she passed Mikayla’s room she paused.

  “This play is almost three weeks away. I think we can wait a few more days to gather up your fairy godmother supplies.” Willa smothered a laugh when Mikayla gave a long-suffering sigh.

  “Yes, mother,” Mikayla replied drawing out the last word, a sign Willa was being unreasonable in her childish view.

  Mikayla flipped one of her braids over a shoulder and concentrated on her script.

  Anthony came down the hallway with his cell phone pressed to one ear. “S’up, moms.”

  “Hi, sweetie. Look, I’m going to get comfortable and start dinner. Then we need to talk.” Willa watched his youthful face crinkle in a frown. “Yes, talk.”

  Anthony hit the mute button on his phone. “I told Cheyenne we were gonna meet at the library to study.”

  “This a new girlfriend I haven’t met, huh? You know my rule. No hook up until I talk to her and her parents.” Willa raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Don’t be embarrassing me, Mama,” Anthony protested. “I’m sixteen.”

  “I want to know who you hang with, male or female. The rule will change when you hit twenty-one.” Willa pursed her lips when Anthony’s expression changed to one of horror.

  “You’re kidding. Please tell me you’re kidding,” Anthony pleaded, hands pressed together as if in prayer.

  “Son, if I don’t get the right answers to my questions you may not have a social life until then. In the den, forty-five minutes from now. So call Cheyenne and re-schedule.”

  Anthony flipped his phone open as he whipped around and headed for his room. He mumbled as he dialed. Willa didn’t need to ask what he said. She had a pretty good idea of the general sentiments he’d uttered.

  “So much for anyone being happy,” Willa muttered. She thumped her bedroom door shut, grateful for a brief bit of sanctuary from parenthood. Twenty minutes later she’d showered. Willa put on her favorite pink lounge set. The supple cotton fabric hugged her. Her soft pink slippers completed her transition from her day to home life.

  Willa padded into the kitchen. She took out a pan of her homemade lasagna. She defrosted it for a few minutes in the microwave then put it in her conventional oven. Minutes later she had a big bowl of tossed salad made and zucchini squash in the steam cooker. She took a deep breath, let it out and headed for the family room. Anthony was already there, sitting on the sofa bobbing his head to music from his MP3 player. He heaved a resigned sigh when he noticed Willa taking a seat across from him on the smaller sofa.

  “What’s the deal, moms?” Anthony took out his ear buds as he spoke. “Can’t be anything at school. I’ve been nerdy.”

  “What?” Willa blinked at him, temporarily distracted from composing her opening line.

  “You know, following the rules. Doing my assignments. Like a nerd, a geek.” Anthony shrugged.

  “Like a young man with a future you mean,” Willa retorted. “Someone who won’t be working in a fast food place at age thirty.”

  “Right.” Anthony drawled out the word.

  Willa felt her blood pressure rising. She would have to save her speech on the culture of under achievement for another day. The topic they needed to discuss was a lot more important.

  “Jazz came to my office today.” Willa watched him carefully. His left eyebrow twitched.

  “Oh really? How’s she doing?” Anthony cleared throat. He even managed to smile. “I’ll bet Jazz made an impression in that bourgie office.”

  “She told me you were at the club. Which is something we don’t need to discuss in detail, right?” Willa star
ed at him hard.

  “Those places aren’t for minors, I had no business being there and I’m grounded. Guess that sums it up.” Anthony glanced at Willa then looked away.

  “Perfectly. But beyond that you were there the same night Jack was killed.” Willa leaned forward. Her chest tightened with tension. “Don’t lie to me, son. This is too important. Did you see Jack that night?”

  “For a minute.” Anthony didn’t look at her. “Not at the club though, at his office. Your office now.”

  “Why?” was all Willa could manage to say. Fear froze her tongue, but the need to protect him pushed her on.

  “We hung out some cause he wanted me to be in the business. Keeping it in the family he said.” Anthony smiled for a minute before it faded. “He wasn’t all bad.”

  Willa swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat. “No, few people are. Did he say anything about somebody giving him a problem?”

  Anthony looked at Willa. “He didn’t say anything like that.”

  “Then tell me what y’all talked about.” Willa could almost hear the wheels turning.

  “He told me about contracts, how being the boss was hard work and stuff like that. That I needed to listen to you and work hard in school.”

  “Oh.” Willa took a few moments to get over her surprise. Jack had usually schooled Anthony in the art of just getting by. Smart as he was, Jack had done as much partying in college as anything else. Unlike Willa, who had to work, Jack had a monthly check from daddy to sustain him while in school. He majored in business and minored clubbing. Jack had brains, but he also had the spoiled kid syndrome.

  “Did he tell you anything about his plans later that night?” Willa tapped a foot nervously then stopped when Anthony glanced at it.

  “No. Jazz gave me a lecture on staying away from clubs. At least until I’m legal.” Anthony exhaled noisily. “Okay, I’m grounded until twenty-one or I get a job paying enough for me to move out.”

  Willa’s temperature ticked up slowly at his impudent vibe. “Let me tell you one thing, youngster. Do not mess with me. You better be telling me everything that went on that night. Better me than homicide detective Miller.”