Just as the man stops at his room and staggers back and forth with the key in his hand, Jazz’s phone rings. She prays that it’s not her husband before looking at the phone. She looks at her watch and realizes it’s many hours past the phone time so in no way could it be him. She exhales relief at the thought of it and looks at the display.
Seeing Jeff’s number at such a late hour takes her by surprise. Her first thought is to ignore it, but she considers that maybe something has happened. Her curiosity leaves her no choice but to answer. The man stands at the door waiting for her to catch up. He rocks back and forth like a drunkard.
“Go on in,” Jazz commands. “I have to take this call,” she says as she falls back further. She steps away from the man and accepts the call. “Hello?” she says in a fake groggy voice as if she was sleeping.
“Jazz,” he says with uncertainty. “Did I wake you up?”
“Yeah, but what’s up? What time is it? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, everything cool. I was just in the area and wondering if you was all right?”
In the area, at this hour? Jazz says in her mind. She’s no dummy to game and this seems quite weird to her. She gets it now, totally. Her husband has been keeping it quiet but using Jeff to keep tabs on her. “Yes, I’m okay,” she replies well aware of his little game.
“You sure? I got a couple dollars for you if you need it. I’m like two blocks away from your house. I can slide right through.”
“Jeff, I don’t need anything. Plus, it’s one in the morning,” she says with no sleepiness in her voice. Her voice is now filled with anger. One, she’s mad that her husband and him are playing this little game, and two, she’s angry that she put herself in the position to be played with from the beginning.
“You sure? I’m right here. Why don’t you come down anyway? Five minutes. I just have something to say to you.”
“It’s one in the morning,” she says with evident anger. “The hour is not even decent. Come tomorrow and you can tell me.”
“All right. Bet,” he says with defeat in his voice.
“Let me get back to bed. I have things to do in the morning. Talk to you tomorrow.”
Just as she’s about to hang up, he yells. “Yo, Jazz. Do me a favor and keep this between us. Like, bro don’t have to know that I be calling and checking up on you to see if you need something. You know him and that pride. I don’t ever want him to think that I’m crossing the boundaries and getting into his personal business. Like I know the money ain’t there no more, but I ain’t trying to make him feel like less than a man.”
Jazz becomes extremely angered now. She reads right through the play on words. In no way is he calling on her husband’s behalf. He’s calling on his own. She realizes that he obviously knew she was up to something that night, and he’s using that as leverage to make a pass on her.
She’s sure he has no clue what she was really doing, but he does know she was up to no good. Now he feels comfortable in shooting his shot at her, knowing that she can’t tell her husband. Clearly this is blackmail to get what he wants from her. It hurts her that she saw him as a real friend to her husband, but it hurts her even more that she can’t tell her husband.
“Bye!” She hangs up without waiting for his reply.
She looks up and finds the doorway empty. The man has stepped inside. She steps into the room only to find him shirtless, lying back on the couch, comfortably. It’s obvious that she’s wearing her emotions on her face right now because he stares at her peculiarly, through drunk eyes.
“You okay, sweetie?” he asks, slurring his words.
She wipes the angered expression off her face and puts on a huge fake smile. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“Okay, because I can make you feel better,” he says flirtatiously. His remark makes her smile a real one. “Come on over and let me whisper something into your ear.”
She walks over slowly with the butterflies floating in her belly. He grabs both her hands and guides her onto his lap. The feeling of his manhood pressed against her makes her uncomfortable, but she still continues on with her smile. He places his finger on her chin and turns her ear to his mouth. “How much is this gonna cost me?” he whispers into her ear.
She swallows the lump of fear in her throat before speaking. “One thousand,” she whispers with embarrassment.
He leans back, staring into her eyes. “And what does that include?”
“Everything, I guess.”
“What is everything?”
“Well, not everything.” She’s made a vow to herself that she will never put her mouth on these men. No way she could ever kiss her children after oral sex with a complete stranger. She may be disrespecting her husband and their marriage, but she will never disrespect her children. “My mouth is off limits.”
“Party pooper,” he says teasingly. “So, is it okay to put my mouth on you?”
The thought of that bothers her as well, but she realizes it’s all a part of the business. She simply shrugs her shoulders in reply.
“Okay, good enough,” he says as he digs into his pocket. His trousers are so tight he can barely pry his hands inside. He lifts up from the seat and gently pushes her off him. He gets up, digging into his pocket. He staggers back and forth.
Jazz watches as he grips the fancy leather wallet in hand. Instead of digging in for the money, he flips the wallet open. “You are under arrest for the solicitation of sex,” he says with no sign of being drunk. It was all fake.
Her mouth drops open. As she stares at the badge, she hopes this is a joke. He reaches under the cushions of the couch and handcuffs appear in his hand. She’s speechless. He grabs her hands to cuff them in front of her.
“No, please, no,” she pleads. “I’m sorry. Please don’t do this to me.”
He smiles at her with no compassion for the tears that are
dripping down her face. “You’ve done this to yourself.” He pushes her back onto the couch. She sinks deep into it. He walks over to the nightstand and pulls the drawer open. The walkie talkie in his hand solidifies that this is no joke. She’s really being arrested for prostitution.
* * *
Jazz is escorted through the casino in cuffs by vice. The undercover is nowhere to be found so that his cover is not blown. Wendy spots Jazz, but her head is so low in humiliation that she doesn’t notice. This has to be the worse day of her life. The closest she’s ever been to breaking the law is spending the money that her husband gives her so to be in handcuffs is a nightmare for her. All she can do is pray that this news never makes it back to New Jersey.
51
Newark, New Jersey
Two Days Later
Detective Sykes and her partner step out of the apartment building with all the attention of the neighbors on them. Walking in between them is Breezy. The neighbors watch, wondering what trouble he has gotten himself into. Although he pretends to not know what they are here for, he knows the exact reason.
He predicted this would happen and was just counting the days down until it came into fruition. Because he knew they would come for him, he made sure to keep his house clean of anything illegal. He actually expected the police to come in riot gear with K9s and knock his door down. So being escorted out of his house with no raid, is good.
* * *
Meanwhile, Storm holds the jail phone to her ear listening closely to Toy who is on the other end. “Straight caught her in the act. Luckily, Heavy Bottom stepped off on them, or she would’ve been jammed up right with her.”
Heavy Bottom is the code name they use for Wendy when using her real name isn’t appropriate, and this is one of those times. They both are well aware that this conversation is being recorded. Heavy Bottom is the best description they could come up with, being so tiny with such an enormous ass.
Storm is sad to hear this news, which is shocking
even to her. Despite her jealousy she holds for her girls, she still has some feelings for them and would hate to see them in bad situations, especially in a situation where their freedom is compromised.
These past five days feel more like five years to her and have been hell on her mental. Each second of the day that passes that she’s still behind bars she hates herself more for allowing them to talk her into this. She’s experienced a few bumps and bruises with the law that have had her at the precinct for a few hours but never has she spent damn near a week in custody. After this experience of being locked down, she doesn’t wish jail on her worst enemy.
“Yo! Go snatch her ASAP. Don’t let her sit another minute.”
“She’s already been snatched,” Toy replies. “I grabbed her the next day soon as she got a bail. I wasn’t leaving without her.”
“Good,” Storm replies. She’s quite proud of the leadership that Toy has exerted. Toy has always followed her lead, so she’s never witnessed her make boss decisions without consulting with her first. “What the bail was looking like?”
“Super light, like fifteen hundred.”
“Okay, cool. What she saying though?”
“Oh, Married with Children is distraught,” she says using Jazz’s code name. “I haven’t talked to Married with Children, but Heavy Bottom said she told her she done for sure this time. Said she will find a way to get that money back, but that ain’t for her.”
“Hey, everything ain’t for everybody,” Storm replies with no real concern.
“What’s up with you though? No word on a bail?”
“Nothing! I’m a sitting duck with no clue of what’s going on. I’m in here on some bullshit that I don’t know nothing about,” she says crisp and clear, so there is no confusion for anyone who will be listening to this recorded call. Her hopes are when they play this call back they believe her innocence. “Santa Claus, says the lawyer told him they just fucking around with me because they mad and don’t really have nothing on me. I’m innocent.”
* * *
Breezy sits in the interrogation room with the detectives leaning over the table on both sides of him. The questions from both of them are coming at him like rapid fire. He’s been holding it down no matter how intense it has gotten. He’s not new to interrogation and is a seasoned veteran with it.
“Listen,” Detective Sykes says. “Storm has already admitted to the murder of that girl,” she lies. “We already know that your role in it was to play the liaison and speak to her family and give the bail money to them so when she got out Storm could kill her.”
Breezy looks at her with a straight face that shows no indication of the thoughts running through his mind. Hearing this almost makes him question if she really told them that. Knowing her, he can’t imagine her rolling over, so he quickly washes that from his mind. He twists his lips at the detectives in disbelief. “Why would she tell y’all a lie like that?”
“Right now she’s trying to save herself because she knows with another two murders she will never see daylight again.”
“So, just admit that she used you to put all this together,” Syke’s partner interjects. “Conspiracy is better than murder.”
Breezy sits there unbothered with all of this. Sykes fires away with no pause in between. “You know she has the best attorney in the state of New Jersey, right?”
“Yes, Tony Austin,” he says.
“And you know what that means for you, right? That means he will do his best to make her appear innocent in that courtroom. Prosecutors will then throw both murders on you. At the end of the day, she never spoke to Kirah’s brother, you did. And you’re the one who gave them the money to bail her out.”
Breezy’s facial expression changes for the first time. He can very well see it all playing out just as she says it will. He’s heard of cases that the attorney has beaten with men who have been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. The streets have labeled him a magician in the courtroom.
The detectives notice the change of body language and feel like they have him where they need him. “The only way we can help you is if you help us right here, right now,” Detective Sykes says. “So, did Storm use you as the liaison?” She can see the thoughts ripping through his mind, and she thinks she sees a sign of victory.
“Like I told you from the beginning… Yeah, I know of Storm, but I haven’t seen her in five years. I haven’t even spoken to her. The money I gave that girl’s brother was a loan. He came to me for the loan. I knew him from gambling with him and that’s it.”
Detective Sykes and her partner laugh simultaneously. Breezy wonders what they are laughing about. Maybe he fucked up somewhere in his story. “Are you sure about that?” the partner asks. Breezy thinks hard on what he just said and wonders what Storm’s story may have been. Did she say she saw him more recently than what he said?
“Listen,” Detective Sykes says, interrupting his thought process. “We are gonna walk out of this room so you can think all of this over. When we come back, we will allow you the opportunity to try again because that is not the story we got from her or the family of the murder victims.”
Sykes and her partner make their way to the door. Her partner holds the door for her to exit first. She looks back at Breezy. “You got five minutes. Get it right.”
52
Atlantic City
Two Days Later
Toy steps into the casino ready to punch the clock, another night at work. Over the past few days, she has gotten used to being in charge. Even without Storm here to watch over her, she makes sure that she and Wendy work as hard as they would as if she was here. In fact, they are working harder. She misses Storm so much and hates that she’s going through what she’s going through. She hopes to ease her struggle by having a hefty bag of money to give her once she’s free.
She peeks around the casino, just to see what she’s working with. The casino is packed, just the way she likes it. The more people present, the better the opportunity. As she’s strolling through, her eyes land on a poker table which is filled with purple and orange chips which tells her that is where she needs to be.
Just as she wanders in that direction, she feels a tapping on her shoulder. She turns around and is face-to-face with two huge men in suits.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” one of the men say with unusual politeness. “Come with us.”
Toy recognizes the men as casino vice. The looks in their eyes tell her that her cover has been blown.
“Come with you where?” she asks, just trying to play it clueless.
“Save the bullshit,” the other man intervenes. “We know exactly what you are here doing, so save yourself the scene and the embarrassment.” He snatches her by the hand. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Detective Sykes sits on the corner of the table, directly in Storm’s face. The other detective stands in the cut, just watching and letting Sykes handle it because he knows how much of a hard-on she has for Storm. The hatred they have for each other is mutual. Detective Sykes can see the hatred written on Storm’s face and it causes her to egg her on more.
As Storm looks up at Detective Sykes, who is in her face, she can’t figure out if she hates her more that she’s a cop or for her skin color. Sykes is not a high yellow complexioned woman, but still fits the lighter skin, long pretty hair, mold that Storm despises.
“So you and Man-Man together pulled off the robbery which turned into a triple homicide. Or was homicide part of the original plan?” Detective Sykes asks sarcastically. “Why did you murder Man-Man though? Just so there would be no witnesses?”
Wow, Storm thinks. She had no clue that they were attempting to link her to Man-Man’s murder. She thinks that maybe this is why they have been holding her, just so they can get enough information to charge her for his body as well. She’s sure the only person that could link her to his body would be, who el
se but Kirah.
She looks the detective square in the eyes. “May I please call my attorney?”
“Shakirah Jenkins was used as the bait, correct?”
Just as she figured, Shakirah is the source. Again, she regrets that she didn’t off the girl herself that night. If she had, none of this nightmare would even be taking place. She flutters her eyelashes while staring into the detective’s eyes. “My attorney instructed me to answer no questions in his absence.”
“Why did you murder Man-Man? Just so there would be no witnesses?”
“I wish to make no statements without the presence of my attorney.”
“Now Shakirah is dead… which means no more witnesses are alive to testify against you, huh?”
Storm’s ears stand up on alert like a K9, but still she wears the same emotionless face.
“You’re quite crafty, I must admit. Had that girl bailed out, so you could murder her. I guess the money you spent was nothing and your freedom was well worth it, huh? Smart to an extent. You didn’t expect her family to put it together that you had your longtime friend, Breezy aka Donald Jackson, give them the money to bail her out so you could murder her, huh? You did have him give them the money, so you could have her murdered right?”
“I wish to make no statements at this time without my attorney,” she says while looking away from her rudely.
“You don’t have to make any statements because Breezy already made them all,” she says with a smile.
Storm quickly thinks of the way that Breezy reacted in the car that night and can’t help but wonder if he rolled over on her out of fear of losing his own freedom.
“So, are you ready to admit to us that you murdered Shakirah and her brother on that night?”
Storm huffs with frustration. When she does, spit flees from her mouth. A few drops of spittle land on the detective’s face which drives her mad. She reaches over the table and grabs Storm by the collar and draws her face close enough to bite her head off. She’s been waiting for a reason to do this. “Bitch, you spit on me?”
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