by K Elliott
“~id anybody ever pay him, pay Chico, to kidnap a little girl?”
Julio’s mind seemed to lock up in thought; but not long enough to arouse Brian’s suspicions. “No pay for kidnap. Nothing like that.” “How about murder? Cocodrilos ever get paid to do a hit?”
This time he didn’t even think about it. “Nobody got killed, just beat up.”
Brian flinched when he heard a knock at the door. He smiled at Julio. “You lie with a straight face. Now I got to throw some shit in the game.”
Chapter Two
Brian stood at the door, watching Julio, waiting for the visitor to knock again. When it happened he calmly unlocked the door but flung it open and snatched a woman inside by gripping a handful of her jacket at the breast area.
The woman gasped, damn near cried out, and stumbled over Julio.
Brian closed the door and locked it again. He approached the woman. “Stand up.” When she did he searched her. She had an okay face was top-heavy and, funny built. “What’s your name?” He found a cell phone on her and a lot of money held together by a rubber band.
“Amara.”
“Yeah? What’s your full name Amara?”
“My name is Amara Tillman.” She was a Mexican-American, almost twenty-five years old. “Is this money for Julio?”
“Yes.” Her eyes briefly shifted towards Julio then back to Brian.
Brian slipped the money into the front pocket of his Adidas pants. “What’s it for? Why are you bringing him money? And don’t look at him. He’s already told me, so if you tell me something different, one of you will be shot again.” He knew the woman had seen the blood on Julio and the carpet; he wanted her to think it was from a gunshot.
Amara put a hand to her chest and said, “It’s payment from Chico Gonzalez.”
Brian stared at Julio. “Chico Gonzalez. Did you hear that? The muthafucka who died earlier this year is still dead set on paying you.” He turned to Amara again and said, “Why is Chico taking such good care of your man? They faggots or something?”
Amara hesitated until she saw Brian aim the gun at Julio. “The money is for another job. Chico wants Julio to pay someone named Gerald Barnes. I don’t know what the payment is for.”
“Why didn’t Chico pay Gerald his damn self?”
She shrugged. “Chico never likes to meet people unless they are in the Cocodrilos gang.”
“Okay. Sit down. On the floor, right there next to Foolio.” Then, he stepped up to Julio and towered over him. Julio was sitting on the floor, legs extended, when Brian suddenly stomped his left foot, violently twisting the man’s ankle.
Julio hollered out in anguish.
“Hey!” Brian shouted. “Shut the fuck up with al that noise.” When Julio withdrew the injured leg, Brian said, “What’s the deal with Gerald Barnes? Who is he and why are you the middleman in this shit?”
Julio squirmed and squinted because of the pain. “He’s just some black guy down in Branson. He thinks he’s dealing with me, but he’s really working for Chico.” “What kind of work?”
“You know, things like I already told you. Steal cars, beat people up.”
“And what kind of work was Gerald suppose to do for the money in my pocket?”
Julio hesitated for a moment too long. “Steal two Mercedes cars.”
Brian said, “Must be important if you’re willing to lie even with a gun to your face. Get up, both of you, and head to the bathroom.”
Julio caught hell limping his way to the bathroom. When the couple was inside the small bathroom they thought Brian would shoot them.
Brian said, “I’m going to close this door and search the apartment. Don’t come out unless you want to be shot in the face.” He closed the door and tip-toed his way towards the front door. He quietly opened it, stepped out and carefully closed the door.
Chapter Three
Karrice Cathcart was Brian’s sister. Although she was an overweight woman, she was pretty and always well-dressed. She was twenty-nine and had a daughter who was ten.
Karrice was in the kitchen washing dishes when she heard a vehicle pull up. It was Brian’s BMW; she knew the car by the way it sounded. Karrice dried her hands and headed toward the front door to unlock it. Her 3-bedroom home was in a quiet neighborhood in Knoxville, Tennessee, a relatively safe neighborhood, but still she always kept the door locked. She let Brian in and he hugged her.
“What’s up, Sis?” He released her and zeroed-in on the kitchen.
Karrice closed the door and locked it. “Nothing much. I’m tired as hell.”
“Where’s my baby?” He was looking inside the refrigerator.
“In Reva’s room, sleeping. I had to pop LaRia on her ass today. She cried until she got tired.”
Brian grabbed a jug of milk and removed a box of Golden Grahams cereal from the top of the refrigerator. “What did she do?” He knew his daughter was bad, especially whenever her mother Vera wasn’t around. But Vera was never coming back, and the little girl, almost four, had not yet developed an understanding of her mom’s death.
Karrice said, “She got mad when I wouldn’t let her go with Reva, so she had a fit and pushed a lamp over.” Karrice was in the doorway of the kitchen. “Where did Reva go?”
“You know I let her go to her dad’s every Sunday. LaRia is absolutely crazy about my daughter.”
Brian set the items on the table and eased past his sister. “Let me go check on the villain.” He went to Reva’s room and peeked in on his daughter. The gorgeous little girl made him smile. She was sleeping on top of the covers, gripping her teddy bear. Brian softly walked up to the bed, kneeled to the floor, and kissed his daughter on one of her baby-fat, dimpled cheeks.
Brian returned to the kitchen and sat at the table across from his sister. She had already fixed him a large bowl of cereal.
Karrice said, “If you would have been here two hours ago, you would have caught lunch.”
“Karrice I need to talk to you. I need a big favor.”
“Don’t you always? What is it?”
“I need you to keep LaRia for a while.”
“Ah, you don’t have to ask me that. Go ahead, I got her.”
“No, I’m saying for about nine months to a year.”
“A year? Brian, you know I would do anything for you and LaRia, but I do have a job. Reva is in school while I’m working; you willing to pay for LaRia’s daycare?” Brian spooned some cereal then said, “Quit your job. I need you on this. I’ll take care of al your bills and give you fifty grand upfront.”
Karrice knew that her brother had gotten nearly $200,000 from the insurance policy he’d had on his girlfriend. “Brian, you see how big I’ve gotten? You know damn well I need to work. And what am I supposed to do when the year is up, just go and ask for my job back?”
He said, “You always said you wanted to own an online business. I’ll introduce you to my assistant. She’s looking for a partner to help start her online dating service. You can go in 50/50 with her.”
“Brian you love LaRia. What the hell are you doing so important that you have to leave her for a year?”
Chapter Four
Brian ate more cereal but still talked with food in his mouth. “I won’t be gone as in gone-gone. I’ll come by and even keep her with me when I’m in town. And this might not even take nine months.”
Karrice stared at him. “You still haven’t told me why you have to leave her.”
“Okay.” He spooned more cereal. “For about fifteen months I’ve been working as a private investigator. I’m unlicensed to do that kind of work, but I’ve had success with the three cases I’ve worked because I ignore most of the rules and laws. I only take serious cases that the cops are tired of.”
She said, “So you’re doing Daddy’s kind of work but illegally?”
“Yeah, but think missing persons and cold cases.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Brian, you can’t solve no damn cases like that.”
“I’m three for three. Marissa Dawson, the white girl whose husband I killed, helps me with the cases. And now I got an FBI plug.” “So the FBI is helping you investigate illegally? Your ass is going to jail, and then I’ll have to keep LaRia for the next fourteen years.”
Brian drank the rest of his milk from the bowl and burped. He’d done that so much, nobody close to him gave a damn anymore. “Look Sis. When Vera died a month ago, I decided to give al that shit up and just raise my daughter. But then somebody wanted me to take a case involving a little girl LaRia’s age. She was kidnapped about a year and some change ago.”
Karrice said, “Let me guess. You don’t want to walk away; because, you wouldn’t want anyone to walk away if it was LaRia or Reva.” “Exactly.”
“Yeah, but, Brian, what about the next time? Children go missing everyday. You can’t chase every case and you can’t solve but one out of every one hundred. Why would this be the last case?”
“Because I owe my daughter most of my time.”
“Yes, you do, but if the next case involves a child, a woman, or an old person you’ll take it and you know it.”
Brian said, “I need you, Karrice. We got a deal?”
“I don’t know, Brian. You’re dealing with murder suspects and psychos. Don’t you need some help? And I’m not talking about your white girlfriend.” He laughed. “Marissa is not my girlfriend. We never came at each other in that way. We used to work together at the factory.”
“Uhmm-hmm, whatever. I’ll do it on one condition.”
“Name it. Anything,” he said.
“Echo keeps bugging me about getting him a job where I work. I told him those people won’t hire him with his record. Take him with you; let him watch your back. He needs a job to help his own family out.”
Brian simply stared at her. “Echo? I’m waiting for you to laugh.”
“I’m serious, Brian. Echo would be glad to help you and offer protection.”
“Karrice, the man is too...out of all our cousins, why do you want me to work with Echo? The fool has been to prison twice, so you know he ain’t comfortable on the streets. Besides, I got extra protection and even an extra clip.”
She shook her head. “That’s the deal. Pay Echo and let him work with you. No Echo, no deal.”
Chapter Five
Marissa Dawson pulled in at a gas station in Branson, Missouri, driving her deceased husband’s Dodge Charger. They had been preparing for a divorce, but his
departure from earth actually set her up nicely. The Knoxville house was paid off now, Steve’s car and truck were hers now, and she no longer had to worry about the day her husband would snap.
Marissa drove up to Pump 3 and slightly rear-ended a 600 series Mercedes Benz, setting off the luxury car’s alarm. Marissa backed up a few feet and got out of her car.
The owner of the Mercedes had not yet entered the store. He turned and quickly presumed what must have happened. He pressed a button on his key ring and headed back to inspect his car.
Marissa was a sexy-looking white woman. She had a nice shape, well-manicured nails, and an artful hair style. In fact, her head looked as if it had been done by a black beautician. She wore tight jeans, sneakers, and a Tennessee Titans jacket. She saw the black guy approaching the scene, so she said, “Are you the owner of this car?” She pointed at the Mercedes.
The black guy said, “Yeah,” and he stopped and studied his bumper.
“I’m sorry about this. I...I guess I stopped paying attention at the last minute.” The man didn’t notice a thing wrong with his bumper.
“You want me to call the police? I’m fully insured. I could just...”
“No. It’s probably just an internal dent. No need to raise your insurance because of that. If you’re not married you can pay for it by treating me to dinner. If you’re the type that won’t date a black guy, I ain’t trippin’. We can squash this and act like it never happened. This is small shit.”
Marissa said, “Dinner sounds fine, but I’m not familiar with Missouri”
He smiled. “You gotta be from Tennessee, since the Titans ain’t no helluva name brand team.”
She looked down at the embroidery on her jacket. “Knoxville. And I suppose your team is better? What team would a Missouri man root for?” He sat on the trunk of his car. “The Steelers, baby. It ain’t where you’re at; it’s where you’re from.”
“So you’re from Pittsburgh?” she said.
He shook his head. “Nah. Allentown, but close enough.”
She looked back and saw two more cars pulling onto the lot. “We need to get our gas and move our vehicles.”
He agreed then said, “I got an idea.” He got up off the trunk, reached in his pocket and retrieved a wallet. He showed her a hundred-bill-bill. “I’ll pump the gas if you’ll pay for it. Thirty on Pump 4 and whatever you want on Pump 3.”
She said, “Keep your money. I’ll take care of the gas and you can take care of the dinner bill tomorrow.” “Tomorrow?” It’s only 3:30; I was thinking more like this evening.”
“I can’t. I’m attending a business conference here tonight. It’s actually a dinner too. But I’ll be here all weekend.”
He put his money and wallet back in his pocket. “That’s cool, but I’m not going to sleep well without your name and number.” She smiled, more like a smirk. “I’m sure someone will help you get to sleep.”
He laughed. “I see you’re on that blushed.”
“I’m Susan Winters. What do they cal you?”
“Gerald Barnes. Gerald. GB. Take your pick.”
“I like GB.” He reminded her of a younger Richard Pryor but he looked meaner, almost evil.
Chapter Six
As soon as Brian entered McDonald’s and approached the counter he saw Inell Harrison shaking and dumping a basket of hot French fries. The cashier was a young woman in college. She said, “Welcome to McDonald’s. May I take your order?”
Brian said, “A small fry and a small milkshake. Strawberry.”
Inell recognized the voice and turned around. “Brian, what’s up cuz?”
Brian didn’t even look at him at first. He just said, “Echo, I need to holla at you.” Then, he told the cashier, “That’ll be all.” She gave Brian a total and began fixing his milkshake.
Echo said, “I’m on a break in five minutes. Everything good?” He had not attended the funeral of Brian’s girlfriend out West but later sent a card to Brian’s home. The card had been signed by Echo, his wife, and his teenage daughter.
“Yeah, I’m good.” Brian paid the cashier.
The cashier said, “Inel, I need a small fry.”
Echo prepared a large fry, set it under the heat lamp, and then attended the grill with another co-worker.
Moments later Brian was sitting by a window in the restaurant, wondering about Rochelle Davenport. He’d seen enough photos of the adorable, biracial child to imagine her vividly now. The child was only four and had been with the kidnappers or perhaps some, otherwise, childless adult for nearly a year and a half. The child was probably accepting someone else as her parents now.
Brian drained more milkshake and thought about LaRia. Vera crossed his mind, too, and he remembered leaving his girlfriend and daughter at the airport. He ate another fry, almost unconsciously, still looking through the window at nothing in particular.
“What’s up cuz?” Echo appeared. He thought he’d startled Brian.
Brian said, “Man, you look silly as hell in that uniform and Wal-Mart-ass pair of shoes.”
Echo sat at the table with him. “I know you didn’t come here to tell me some shit I already know. I been trying everywhere to get a real job. My 16-year-old daughter works at KFC, and the only reason I make more than she does is because she’s in school. My wife got a good job but I don’t feel like a...”
“Echo, can I talk?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m just fucked up right now. Go ‘head.”
Brian sighed and leaned forward. “I got
a job for you. Twenty-five grand. Cash. Ten up front, all tax-free.” Echo leaned closer now. “I already know. You want me to smash the dude that killed Vera.”
Brian shook his head. “This has nothing to do with that. I don’t need you to kill anybody for me. I work PI cases now, and Karrice made me promise to give you a job.”
Echo smiled and nodded. “Just tell me what I gotta do?”
“Help me get to the head of a gang called the Cocodrilos. I need to force some info out of his ass.” Echo said, “Now you know that’s right up my alley.”
“I know your an ex felon, but something tells me you still own a gun.”
Echo leaned closer again and said, “Man, I got a .45 strapped to my leg right now!”
Chapter Seven
Brian said, “Echo, what the hell do you need a gun at work for?”
“What! You know damn well them young pee-the-bed-ass niggas don’t mind running up in here and robbing the spot for two hundred dollars. And they’ll pull that trigger over less than that. Damn if I’mma be on fries ducking. I’mma blow a young nigga’s shit out.”
Brian shook his head. He knew Echo would either be a big help or get him fucked up. He smiled at his cousin and said, “You still got ten damn women?” “Nah, man, nobody but my wife.” Then, Echo burst out laughing. “Truth is, it’s hard to pull something when you work at McShack.”
Brian laughed, too.
“When do we work? When do I get paid?”
“I got ten grand on me right now for you.”
“I ain’t seen that kind of money since I broke Sean’s arm and leg with that bat.” They both laughed. Sean had been a young drug dealer, pushing up on Echo’s wife until the day she set his stupid ass up to meet her at a convenience store. Echo showed up instead, caught Sean in the parking lot, and broke his ass up with a bat on the side of the store. Echo took thirteen grand from Sean’s pockets but later went to prison for assault. Four long years.