Trouble Loves Company

by Angie Daniels

  “Uh-huh. Y’all were studying, all right,” I mumbled under my breath.

  “Shut up.” Danielle tossed a pillow at me before continuing. “She would come over and we would lie across my bed and study, and sometimes we fell asleep. I didn’t think nothing of it—then one evening I woke up and found her standing over me wearing a strap- on. Rubber dick flapping in the air!”

  All four of us drunk bitches were laughing so hard we were crying.

  “What a minute!” Kayla cried while still laughing. “She was actually naked, wearing a strap-on?”

  Nodding, Danielle wiped tears from her eyes.

  “What did you do?” Nadine asked between chuckles.

  She looked over at me as she continued. “I didn’t get a chance to do anything because Nae-Nae used her key and walked in.”

  “’Cause I knew something wasn’t right with that girl. Her hair was too damn short, and she always wore these oversized shirts so you couldn’t tell how big her titties were.”

  Nadine intervened. “I thought she was cute.”

  “You would!” Danielle and I screamed in unison.

  Blushing, Nadine tried to explain. “Well she had the longest lashes and the sexiest lips.”

  “Shut up! I’m about to be sick,” Danny groaned.

  I reached for the pitcher and topped off my glass again. “She walked like a man,” I sang. “Talked liked a man. Hell, she even dressed like a damn man.”

  “She did not,” Danielle defended. “She wore jeans like everyone else.”

  “Yeah, but we ain’t wearing a strap-on underneath.”

  Nadine spit her drink across the couch and the laughter was nonstop.

  My eyes traveled from one to the other. “That girl was getting ready to work Danny with that big chocolate thunder. She was standing there, stroking it up and down like that shit was real. I cupped my hand and demonstrated what I meant.

  Danielle groaned. “I told her to get the hell up out of there. She put on her pants with that thing hangin’ on the side of her leg, then bounced. As soon as she was gone, me and Nae-Nae burned the sheets.”

  “Did she ever talk to you again?” Kayla asked, clearly intrigued.

  After taking a sip, Danielle shook her head. “Nope, she played my ass. Found herself some chick she was hugging and lip-locking with.”

  I couldn’t resist my next question. “So, tell us, Nadine. Do you or Jordan use a strap-on? Because inquiring minds wanna know.”

  The question caught her off guard. “Hell, no. That’s a butch. Jordan and I are both females. We find other ways to make each other feel good.”

  “What? Licking pussies?” I asked and grinned at her mortified expression.

  Kayla frowned. “You are so damn nosy.”

  Nadine stirred her drink with her straw before saying, “I saw Trish a couple of weeks ago at The Red-Hot Chili Pepper.”

  ‘What’s that?” Kayla asked.

  “It’s this new alternative club.”

  I was intrigued. “Men dancing with men and women be dancing together?”

  Nadine nodded.

  I couldn’t resist saying out loud what had come to mind. “Let’s go.”

  “You’re kidding.” Nadine looked surprised.

  “Nope,” I replied, then rose to my feet. “I’m serious. Sounds fun. Let’s go.” I was tipsy and down for anything.

  We all hopped into the Durango. System thumping. I hung out the window and flashed my boobs at a blue Caprice Classic filled with some young thunder cats trying to get our attention. They followed us, but as soon as they saw us stop in front of the gay club, they shouted, “Dykes!” and peeled around the corner. We were laughing so hard, it was ridiculous.

  Danielle parked on the corner and the four of us staggered to the door, holding on to each other. I paid everyone’s cover charge, then we moved inside the dark, smoky interior and started leaning and rocking with the crowd. The floor was packed, the music hot. I was pleased to see the LGBT community knew how to party. I was surprised at how many fine-ass gay men there were in Columbia. No wonder a good black woman couldn’t find a man, because they were all in this mothafucka. While the three of them moved out onto the dance floor, my lush ass pushed through the crush of bodies toward the bar.

  “Let me get a tequila and pineapple,” I said to a sweetie pie behind the counter. He was a handsome specimen, wearing a wifebeater, with muscles bulging.

  “Coming right up.” He reached beneath the bar and removed a glass. I couldn’t stop staring and shaking my head. It was a doggone shame for anyone to look that good. Shiny bald head. Goatee. Milk chocolate. He definitely looked like he would melt in my mouth.

  “Here you go, sexy.” He slid the drink in my direction.

  I licked my lips. “Please tell me you like women.”

  A lopsided grin curled his thick lips. “I like women.”

  “Shit! Then how—"

  He pressed two fingers to my lips. “I also like men.”

  Damn! I pushed his hand away ’cause ain’t no telling where them fingers been. “That’s a damn shame,” I muttered as I tossed a five on the counter. He moved to the other end of the counter and I took one final look, groaned, then turned around and rested my hip against the bar. Every seat was taken, even around the bar. I stared off onto the dance floor, watching people bumping and grinding. Women were rubbing on other women. Men were groping other men. I’ll have to admit, seeing it up close and personal wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Hell, the shit was entertaining. Especially Kayla, Nadine, and Danielle, who were all to the far right, making a sandwich with Nadine in the middle. Bodies rubbing, hands holding each other’s hips. Hell, nah! I started laughing, then quickly downed my drink.

  There was no way I wasn’t capturing this moment. I removed my cell phone from my hip and pushed through the crowd toward the three of them. As soon as I was in close range, I aimed and clicked my camera phone.

  “What are you doing?” Danielle screamed.

  “Taking a picture of y’all nasty asses!” I yelled back over the bass blaring from a nearby speaker.

  “Give me that phone!” Danielle came at me. Laughing, I pushed through the crowd, while trying to upload the photo to my online photo album. The transfer was at eighty-five percent by the time she grabbed my arm. “Hey!”

  “Delete that photo. Now!”

  I put the phone behind my back, out of her reach. “Oh, hell no. I’m going to make a copy for everyone, even Trish.”

  We were wrestling and laughing at the same time when Danielle stopped abruptly and said, “Isn’t that Peaches over there?”

  I followed the direction of her gaze and sure enough, Peaches’ skinny ass was a few feet away, grinding against some little white dude on the dance floor. The song ended and I turned and moved in their direction just as Peaches stuck her tongue in the dude’s ear and pivoted on her heels. Pushing through sweaty bodies, my speed was hindered when a tall dude stepped in my line of vision. By the time I made it to a clearing, Peaches was nowhere to be found.

  “Where’d she go?” Danielle asked as she joined me.

  My eyes traveled quickly to my right and left. “I don’t know, but she’s in here somewhere. Let’s see if we can find her.” We spent the next few minutes trying to cover every corner of the club, but it was hard to do with so many folks in the way. As little as Peaches was, her ass could have been anywhere. “Damn!” My head was throbbing, a combination of too much to drink and the loud bass.

  “She must have left already.” Danielle looked equally pissed off.

  “Let’s not mention to Kayla that we saw Peaches. She’s having a good time and I don’t want to ruin it for her.”

  “I agree. But now what?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, but right now I need to pee.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  We followed the neon sign at the back of the club to the bathrooms. Men on the right. Women on the left. We were just getting ready to st
ep through the door when Peaches came out of the men’s room, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “Peaches! Where the hell you been hiding?” I demanded to know as I walked up to her.

  She looked stunned, then relaxed and rolled her eyes at me. “I shouldn’t be speaking with y’all heffas after getting me mixed up in that shit. Leroy’s bitch ass tried to beat me like a stepchild.”

  I ignored the dramatics. “So, you had reason to kill him?”

  Appalled, she pressed a palm to her chest “Uh-uh, Ms. Peaches ain’t killed nobody. I was on vacation.”

  “Vacation where?” Danielle asked.

  “Not that it’s any of your business,” she began while rolling her neck. “I was so upset after seeing my name all over the news that one of my sugar daddies bought me a trip to Jamaica. Shit, they got some Mandingoes over there.”

  Been there, done that. “Have you heard about Kayla being arrested for Leroy’s murder?”

  She nodded. “And I don’t blame her for killing him.”

  Danielle intervened. “Kayla ain’t killed his trifling ass, but we’re trying to find out who else might have wanted that man dead.”

  “Shit, maybe someone who doesn’t want the whole town to know his ass liked a good licking every now and again,” Peaches said with a dramatic pose.

  My brow rose. “Someone like who?”

  Peaches’ thick lips curled in a slow, sinister smile. She signaled for us to move in closer, then glanced over her shoulder before she whispered, “Didn’t I tell you ... Leroy ain’t the only member of that church I’m messing with.” She wiped her mouth, winked, then pointed to the men’s room. “Catch y’all chicas later.” After tossing a purse over her shoulder, she sashayed back toward the dance floor.

  I glanced at Danielle, nodded, then moved to the men’s bathroom and pushed the door open. We stepped in just in time to see Deacon Williams coming out of the far stall, zipping his pants. Shocked, we all gasped, then froze.

  He was the first to relax. Then he moved over to the sink and turned on the faucet. “What are you ladies doing in the men’s room?” he asked while he calmly washed his hands.

  “We should be asking you that, especially since every man in here is gay,” Danielle replied as she stood by my side, her arms folded across her chest.

  I started laughing. “You gay mothafucka. When you were supposed to be fishing, y’all were doing that Brokeback Mountain shit.”

  His face snapped to me. “I ain’t gay! Reverend Brown was gay,” he barked. A muscle flexed nervously at his jaw.

  Talk about calling the kettle black. “You just finished letting Peaches suck your dingdong. What do you call that?”

  He simply shrugged. “A mouth is a mouth.”

  “And a dick is a dick, right?” I countered coolly.

  “That doesn’t make me gay,” he retorted defensively.

  “All y’all down-low brothas are in denial.” I shook my head and propped a hand to my hip. “Now I know why you killed your boy Leroy. You were afraid if he went down, it was just a matter of time before you did, too.”

  He gave a nervous laugh and the skin around his mouth grew tight. “You can’t prove I had anything to do with his death. The only suspect the police have is Sister Sparks. Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I need to get home.” He moved toward the door.

  “How would Lula feel if she found out her husband was getting his balls lickity-licked?” I yelled, halting his departure.

  He swung around so fast, me and Danielle both jumped back and fell against the stall door. With his fist balled, he looked like he was about to hit me before his stance relaxed and he started laughing again. “Like I said before, you can’t prove it. You ladies have a good night.” He huffed past us, then pushed through the door.

  “I knew something was up with him!” I shouted the moment the door shut.

  “Yeah, but can we prove it?” Danielle asked wearily.

  I scrubbed my hand over my face, then shifted restlessly around the bathroom. “There has to be something.”

  “We already know he was there because he was the one who found Leroy’s body and called the police.”

  I took a few seconds to ponder a possibility. “I bet you he’s also the same sugar daddy who bought Peaches a ticket to Jamaica. Deacon Williams didn’t want him around while everything went down.”

  Danielle’s hazel eyes regarded me for a moment before she nodded and signaled for me to follow her. We moved through the club, looking for Peaches to confirm what we already knew, and couldn’t find her anywhere. I then sent David Lovell a text message to call me so I could tell him there was another suspect in Leroy Brown’s murder.

  Chapter 42

  Renee

  Okay, David Lovell is going to make me put my foot up his ass. He had finally called me back at two in the morning as I was crawling into bed. And he had the nerve to think he was about to make a booty call. Mothafuckas, I don’t think so. He’d had his chance and blown it—although I did tell him that if he helped us solve Kayla’s case, I just might consider letting him rub my cootie-cat again. I then told him everything that happened last night, and all he could say was, “I’ll look into it.”

  I checked with him again at eight and he still hadn’t brought Deacon Williams in for questioning. I don’t understand it. Do I have to do all the damn work?

  Around nine, I sat up in my comfortable hotel bed and reached for my laptop. Like I said before, I’ve got a deadline that I have to meet. I spent two hours writing a sex scene that made my ass horny as hell, then put my laptop down and went to take a shower. While under the spray of water, I tried to think of a plan of action. Hell, I’m not a detective. That’s David’s job. But there was no way I was letting my girl go to jail without knowing I’d done everything in my power to help her.

  Stepping out of the shower, I reached for a towel and wrapped it around my body, then went back into the room. I looked over at the box of chocolates that I had bought earlier from Nadine for her church’s fund-raiser. I wasn’t planning to eat it all, but I love to support a good cause. As I stared at the box, an idea came to mind. I could go door-to-door through Leroy’s neighborhood, selling candy and asking questions at the same time. I know the police had already canvassed the area, but what could it hurt to try again? Everybody isn’t always willing to talk to the police.

  I got dressed, told Danielle what I was planning to do, then hopped in my car and headed out toward Leroy’s whorehouse. I was halfway there when Tommy called. “Whassup?”

  “Peaches got arrested.”

  “What?” I almost ran into another car and had to pull my ass over. “What happened?”

  “The ticket to Jamaica had been bought over the Internet with one of Leroy’s stolen credit cards.”

  “Oh no!”

  Tommy sucked his gold tooth. “The police think that maybe Peaches killed him, stole his wallet, then hopped a plane.”

  “That’s crazy.” I wasn’t about to tell Tommy that it was partly my fault Peaches had gotten arrested. David had come through after all. My lips curled upward. He must really want to play with my cootie-cat.

  “I got my attorney trying to get her out on bail.”

  “Please keep me posted.”

  “I will.”

  I hung up the phone and squeezed the steering wheel tightly. Someone had killed Leroy, then stolen his wallet, setting it up to make it look like Peaches could be a suspect. My gut still told me it was Deacon Williams. Now I just needed to find a way to prove it.

  I pulled onto Rock Quarry Road and parked at the very end of the street, then went door-to-door asking questions while trying to sell candy. Some people were helpful and even bought one or two bars of chocolate. Others slammed the door in my face. I was working the other side of the street, a few doors down from Leroy’s house, when I recognized the elderly woman that answered it. “Hello, Ms. Ruby.”

  She peered at me before her eyes sparkled with recognition. �
�Well, if it isn’t little Nae-Nae. Chile, come on in.” She held open the door and I stepped into a living room that smelled like Ben-Gay. She signaled for me to have a seat and I watched her slowly move over to the couch. She reminded me of Big Mama. Silver-gray hair. Small, wire-rimmed glasses. A face covered with moles. Ms. Ruby had grown thin and moved like her old bones were ready to give out.

  “How’s your mother doing?” she asked. Growing up, she had lived next door to us.

  I stared across the couch at her for a long, intense moment before glancing away. “I haven’t seen my mother in years.”

  She nodded knowingly. “She still hasn’t kicked that habit yet?”

  I shook my head.

  She placed a small, wrinkled hand over mine and said, “Pray and have faith that in time she will find the strength to overcome her weakness. You know it ain’t nothing but that devil.”

  “I know.” We grew quiet and then I decided that instead of trying to pawn candy off on such a sweet old lady, I would just cut to the chase. “Ms. Ruby, are you familiar with Reverend Brown’s murder?”

  Her face sobered. “Yes, it was so sad.”

  “My best friend Kayla is being accused of his murder.”

  Slowly, she shook her head. “I saw it on the news. Such a sweet child. Always has a smile. Waved at me. I remember one time I needed help getting groceries out the car. I didn’t even have to ask. She came across the street and gave me a hand.”

  “Kayla didn’t kill him.”

  “I believe you,” she replied, squeezing my hand. “Please tell her I’m praying for her.”

  “I will,” I said, then shifted on the cushion. “Ms. Ruby, I’m trying to find out what really happened that night after Kayla left.” I quickly told her what I knew about the night of the murder.

  She gave me a long, thoughtful look, then folded her hands onto her lap. “I remember waking up at midnight. I had fallen asleep on the couch as usual watching the X-Files. I just love that show. Ms. Tabby was meowing, wanting to go outside. When I opened the door, I saw this VW Bug pulling out from the new development next door to me. I remember wondering why someone would risk parking their car over there and getting stuck in all that mud. But as it pulled away, I remembered seeing that same car in front of Reverend Brown’s house several times before.”