Deuces Wild

by Christina C Jones

  “Of course she is,” Loren agreed. “So I don’t understand why you’re here talking to me instead of doing something about it!”

  “Doing what?” I asked. “She hasn’t responded to any attempt to communicate with her, and honestly… I feel like I need to respect that. Give her some time to process.”

  “You mean time to shut down – because that’s exactly what she’s going to take it as.”

  “Okay well maybe I need time to process,” I admitted. “A whole lot has happened in a two week period, and I can’t… I can’t reassure myself right now, so how can I reassure her? About anything? My partner got shot in the head, right in my goddamn face. My captain doesn’t trust me enough to be at work, trying to figure out who did this. And me and you… Loren, we’re talking a real big game about how breezy this coparenting thing is going to be, but raising a child isn’t easy. I’m only holding my shit together right now because I’m hoping that it helps y’all hold your shit together. I’m… fucking drowning.”

  I didn’t even mean to say a quarter of what spilled out, and I regretted it even further once I saw the expression on Loren’s face. I wasn’t looking for that – that sympathetic drooping of her eyes. Hated it, honestly. But, I didn’t draw away when she suddenly pulled me into a hug, clutching me tight against her body. And truthfully… I did feel slightly better when she finally let me go, and then pulled back to hook her fingers under my chin.

  “You’re right, Cree. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for not telling you about the baby sooner, I just… I had to figure out what I wanted to do.”

  I nodded. “I understand. We’re good, Loren. Really.”

  “Good. Remember, we find out the sex in three weeks, so… be there.”

  “I will. Just send me the details.”

  Once I got Loren out, I briefly considered shooting Alicia a text or something to give her a heads up that Loren knew about us. But after twenty minutes of trying and failing to come up with the right words I let it go, in favor of a hot shower and my bed.

  I didn’t have any energy left for talking.

  &

  “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?” was pretty much the full spectrum of Camille’s reaction to news that she was going to be an aunt. I’d met her for lunch near the theatre where her current burlesque show was taking place, and talked her into taking a break from rehearsals in hopes that she might have some insight for me.

  That was not the case.

  She was singularly excited about getting to hold and dress up and smell a baby, and I didn’t want to ruin her joy, so I let it ride. She didn’t understand why news of this baby didn’t exactly energize me, and I couldn’t explain, not without going into details about The Collective, and the Belrose Syndicate, and Sebastian Gray.

  But obviously I couldn’t.

  So even though Camille was overjoyed, I left our lunch date feeling just as stressed as I’d walked into it – a feeling that only increased when my phone rang, and I saw the number on the screen.

  “Willow, what you got for me?” I asked, heading down the sidewalk towards where my car was parked. The place we’d gone for lunch was in a sort of plaza, so I had a bit of a walk ahead of me to get back to my vehicle. Not usually a problem, but today… something felt strange.

  “Payload,” she purred. “Your mystery woman, from the picture… remember, you hit me back with a first name?”

  I nodded as I glanced over my shoulder, trying to figure out why my proverbial spidey-senses were tingling. “Yeah. You found something? With just a first name?”

  “Ah, but I have more than that – I know she’s younger than thirty-two, which is how old big sister is. I know she’s a black woman, borne to somebody with the juice to be in The Collective, named Dacia.”

  “So?”

  “I have every reason to believe that the woman in that picture is Dacia Pelletier, daughter of Adam Pelletier – once upon a time, his family emigrated to France, from West Africa. They dealt in luxury furs, building a very, very big business, especially when Adam patented a faux fur material that out-performed all others, and out-performed fur. They were rolling in money, until he and his family fell victim to a still-unsolved crime- masked intruders broke into their home and stole everything, killed Adam, abducted the daughters, and left the wife brutalized and on the verge of death too.”

  “Shit,” I muttered – half because of what Willow was saying, and half because I was reasonably sure I was being followed.

  I ducked into a little shop, giving myself a chance to discreetly survey the street from the window before I asked my next question. “Why wasn’t something like that big news? I feel like it’s something I would remember.”

  “Well, we would have been teenagers when this happened. According to what I found, Alicia was sixteen, Dacia was nine. This was sixteen years ago.”

  I nodded. “Yeah… makes sense. Hey,” I said, getting the cashier’s attention. “You have a back exit? Police business,” I said, which wasn’t technically a lie. She nodded, and I followed her simple directions out of the store into a back alley that only made the hair on my arms go up even higher.

  “Cree, you still there?” Willow asked.

  “Yeah, sorry. This is good information, thank you. But uh… why didn’t you call Alicia with this?” I inquired, pulling out the gun holstered at my waist as I peered around.

  “I did. She wasn’t answering, and this shit was too juicy not to tell anybody. Another thing – Dacia and Alicia have different mothers. Alicia’s mother died when she was three, of breast cancer. Adam got remarried, which is probably why there’s such a large age gap between Alicia and Dacia.”

  “Got it,” I responded. “Hey… let me call you back,” I told her, ending the call and tucking the phone away before she even responded. With my weapon pointed, I checked for places I could be fired on from above first, and once I’d satisfied that vantage point, returned my attention to lower on the ground.

  For it to be midday, in a busy ass area like this, it was quiet. I was on high alert, my ears keenly tuned for anything that sounded out of place as I approached a big green dumpster that must’ve been shared among the businesses whose exits led to this spot.

  That’s when I heard it.

  The distinct, tinny screech of a glass bottle sliding across concrete, followed by the muffled curse of whoever had accidentally kicked it. I flipped off my safety, fully prepared to drop whoever I found on the other side of this dumpster. They’d obviously intended to come through the back of the store, to sneak up on me, but I had a surprise for their asses, especially after what had happened with Vivica.

  I took a deep breath and rounded the dumpster, feet planted, solid shoulders, finger on the trigger.

  “Drop your weapon!” a familiar voice commanded, before I even registered the face, half-hidden behind dark ray-bans.

  “I’m not dropping shit,” I countered, keeping my arms steady, even once I realized who I was talking to. “Why the fuck are you following me, Matt? How about you drop your weapon!”

  My eyes flickered to the badge clearly displayed around Matt’s neck, then to the service weapon in his hands. I didn’t have the leverage here – he and I both knew it. No matter what happened, there was no way this shit worked in my favor if somebody got shot here.

  Keeping his weapon aimed, Matt reached up, pulling off his sunglasses to tuck them away. “Seriously, Cree… put that gun down. Are you even supposed to have it?”

  “It’s registered and I have the proper permits. Is there a reason you think I shouldn’t be able to carry a weapon?”

  Matt shrugged. “Just not a good look is all. Neither is you aiming it at Vice cop.”

  “Well that Vice cop hasn’t explained why he’s following me around, spying on me, so you’ll have to forgive me if I’m a little suspicious.”

  “Fine,” Matt said, then cautiously lowered his weapon before returning it to his shoulder holster. “There, you happy? I put mine
away.”

  “That doesn’t make you any less suspicious. Why are you following me?” I asked.

  “Because I was trying to see if you could be trusted.”

  I scoffed. “If I can be trusted? Coming from you, that’s rich.”

  “Not as much as you might think. Trust me. You have plenty of reasons to be suspicious, but… I’m not the one you should be suspicious of.”

  “And who is?”

  “Your Captain. Captain Santiago,” Matt said, which much less of his usual bravado. “I know you felt like something was off with you and Russel getting taken off that Playpen case, you had to. And I heard the two of you got pulled off another case, dealing with Sebastian Gray.”

  “Leary, you’ve got about two seconds to make your point, if you’ve got one. If you’re going to accuse a man like Santiago, your ass had better be sure.”

  “I am sure,” he insisted. “Because once those cases came to my desk, somebody started doing a whole lot to make sure they got buried. But then I realized that these cases… man, they have a connection.”

  That made me lower my weapon. “Yeah… what’s that?”

  “Maxim Bissett. French skin peddler, real greasy son of a bitch. The warehouse property that burned down? Finally managed to unravel the paper trail behind that. Leads straight to him. And guess who he’s besties with?”

  “Sebastian Gray.”

  Matt nodded. “Right. So, it looks like to me, somebody was trying to keep the heat off these two.”

  “And what makes you think it’s Captain Santiago?” I asked, eyes narrowed.

  “I’ll show you – I’m just going for my phone, okay?” he said, pulling it from his back pocket.

  Feeling less like I might have to shoot his ass, I holstered my weapon too, taking the phone from him once he’d pulled up what he wanted to show me. I forced myself not to react, but flipping through image after image on Matt’s phone of grainy images of who was still very clearly Captain Santiago in some dark private club with Maxim and Sebastian made my stomach turn.

  “How did you get these?” I asked, handing him the phone back. “How do I know these aren’t photoshopped or something?”

  Leary shrugged. “You don’t. And as for how I got them… I know a guy who knows a guy.”

  “You have to do better than that.”

  “The hell I do,” he argued, shaking his head. “You’re a good cop, Bradley – this is why I came to you with this, because I don’t know who all I can trust, now that I’ve seen this. But I still have to keep some cards close to the vest. Just like you.”

  I frowned. “Like me?”

  “You think I don’t know that you know who burned that warehouse down? They asked for you by name when they called in the tip, and I think that means something. Roach has been talking, and not just him either. Reo Tanaka, the MMA fighter? Supposedly killed as some sort of drug-related gang retaliation, but witnesses talked about seeing a fine ass black woman that fits the same description Roach gave too closely for it to be a coincidence.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” I asked coolly, even though this mention of Alicia had me on high alert.

  “Because if you know this woman, you need to let her know that people are looking for her. And when I say people, I’m not talking about cops, I’m talking about criminals.”

  I scoffed. “One person can be both, Matt. You know that shit as well as I do.”

  “You’re right, I do,” he agreed. “But as long as I’ve known you, I’ve known you aren’t one of those.”

  “Okay, so what is this, Matt? What are you getting at here? What are you looking for from me?”

  “I’m looking for help.”

  I shook my head. “Well, I’m sorry to tell you, but I don’t have it. You know I’m not even back at work yet, what the hell do you think I can do?”

  “Right now, nothing. But when you do go back… I’ll be in touch. You know they aren’t even looking into who killed Vivica Russel, right? Your Captain put everybody on something else, saying the case was getting handled by the FBI. I took it upon myself to call the supposed case agent for an update.”

  “And?”

  “And they never even heard of this person. Or Vivica, for that matter. He shuttered this case to get the heat off his buddy Sebastian, because closure for her doesn’t matter to him. But we can’t just let this ride.”

  Hearing that just made me angrier, but I had no intention of being too quick to give Matt my trust. Instead of giving him anything, I nodded to acknowledge his words, and gave him words that I fully meant, whether I trusted him or not.

  “I don’t plan to let shit ride. Believe that.”

  ELEVEN

  “Gotcha, bastard,” I mouthed, as I held down the shutter on the high-powered camera, capturing a flurry of pictures. My vantage point wasn’t the best, but for now, the roof of the building across the street from Maxim’s highrise was the closest I could get.

  The best I could do.

  Just thinking about that made me frown – the fact that my reach was so severely limited by the tiny circle of people I could trust or count on honestly set my teeth on edge. And, unfortunately for me, that circle had very recently gotten even smaller.

  Cree was an expectant father now. I couldn’t – shouldn’t - count on him anymore.

  Which meant I shouldn’t rely on his contacts either.

  It had hurt, a lot, to ignore the calls from Willow, knowing that she probably had valuable information just a press of a button away. It was stupid – really stupid – but I’d made the decision to shut down contact with Cree, and it only made sense to go cold turkey.

  Completely.

  But instead of letting that be a complete blow, I was doing what I could, which was figuring out what the hell Maxim and Sebastian were up to. My task would’ve been a lot easier if Maxim weren’t so fond of his curtains though.

  It was sheer luck that the ones in the living room were open – his company for the night had pulled them apart to peer out, taking in the view, and neglected to close them back again.

  Dacia wasn’t there.

  At least, not as far as I could tell, with my limited view. I’d already been at this for hours, and once a few more passed without any sort of new scenery, I packed my things up to go home. I was disappointed for sure, but there wasn’t much more I could do until I found… something else. Some other angle.

  You could just kidnap him next time he leaves.

  Hmm…

  That was actually something to seriously consider.

  In the meantime, I needed to make sure I didn’t end up snatched off the street and put into the back of a van, so my attention was keenly tuned to my surroundings as I made my way back home. I took care to make a few extra turns, taking the long route until I was confident I wasn’t being followed, and then finally headed for my building.

  I parked at the back, taking a few minutes to survey the parking lot first before I left my car. I didn’t linger outside – I got myself through those doors and then blended with the steady stream of people always coming in and out, because of the amenities – some of which were open to the public – on the first few floors of the building.

  Instead of the elevator, I took the stairs. This was something I did often anyway, but now there was even more importance to not being stuck in an elevator. Peeking out into the hall before I pushed all the way through the door on my floor, I chuckled to myself – never in the three years I’d lived in this apartment had I been so diligent about my own safety, and really… I felt a little ridiculous.

  Nothing was about to happen.

  “Alicia Miller, just the person I’m looking for!” I heard from behind me, nearly making me jump out of my skin. I dropped the camera bag in my hand and turned with my fists clenched, shoulders tense, ready to fuck somebody up.

  “Holy shit, it’s just me!” Loren screamed, holding one hand in front of her stomach, the other in front of her face.

  Instantly,
my tension dissipated, and I couldn’t help laughing a little as I took in Loren’s poor defensive posture. “Sorry Loren,” I told her, grabbing her hand to pull it away from her terrified face. “I just… I’m a little on edge.”

  “Girl I can tell,” she told me, letting out a deep sigh. “You must still be avoiding Cree, cause if you were getting yourself taken care of, you’d be too relaxed for all of that.”

  My eyes went wide. “Uh… wait, what?” I asked, watching as she strode past me to my apartment door. I realized now that she must have been turning the corner just as I came through the door to the stairwell, which was why I hadn’t heard her come up.

  “Oh let’s cut the niceties,” she said, waving me off as she stopped to wait for me to unlock the door. “I talked to Cree, I know you two are – were – screwing. Good for you, by the way.”

  “Loren…”

  “Okay. He told me you two were involved, and instead of being awkward, I figured we should just talk about it. I brought wine – for you, not me. Are you opening the door or not?”

  Mostly because I didn’t want to stay out in the open too long, I unlocked my apartment door, lugging my camera bag inside once I’d let Loren in. She chattered about random things – her pregnancy, her patients, a phone call from Penelope – until we got settled on the couch, with her taking the seat beside me instead of at the other end.

  “Okay,” she said, patting me on the leg. “Now, let’s talk about this.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” I told her, wanting to establish that before she got too invested, though I was concerned it had already happened. “I haven’t spoken to Cree since that day at your office, and I have no intention of being a barrier between you two. You’re having his child, so… there’s a connection there. I’m not interested in getting in the way of that.”

  She scoffed. “Trust me, Alicia – there’s nothing there for you to get in the way of. I went to see him intending to get this pesky horniness taken care of – before I knew about you – and he wouldn’t touch me. That man is smitten with you, honey. But… are you telling me you don’t feel the same?”