Someone Bad and Something Blue

by Miranda Parker

  “This license would legitimize your company far better than that other thing you do.” Ava scrunched her nose at “that other thing,” as if it were the thing stinking up my room.

  “But ‘that other thing’ kept you from going to jail. . . .” I rolled my neck in self-satisfaction. “Besides, what just happened was a fluke. It happens to the best of them. But it’s okay. I will make it up to her when I catch her.”

  “You’re incorrigible.” She stood up and straightened her skirt suit with a hard tug.

  “It’s not the first time someone called me that and it won’t be the last.”

  “That’s a sad way to be,” she said.

  “I don’t care.”

  “Yes, you do, especially when it comes to Bella. She’s begun kindergarten. She’s going to meet friends. Their parents are going to want to know you, but all they have to go on is what they see on television or read in your old paper, because you can’t participate in PTA because you spent all night on a stakeout in some seedy hotel.”

  “I’ll have you know that I attended Doughnuts for Dads yesterday.” I licked my tongue at her.

  Ava shook her head. “Oh, brother.... Why am I not surprised?”

  “There were other mothers in attendance, too, so what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is you. Look at you, Evangeline Grace Crawford.” She pointed at me.

  It must have been serious, since she used my full name. I reached for the mirror and slowly raised it toward my face. My head had a skid mark that ran between my temple and my cowlick.

  I dropped the mirror in my lap and gasped. “What happened to my hair?”

  “Stitches. Your assailant put a gash in your head. The attending physician had to shave a patch of hair off your head in order to stitch the wound,” Ava said.

  “I look horrible!”

  “He was thoughtful. It could have been worse, but don’t worry about your hair. I’ve already made an appointment with Halle for an early salon visit. She’ll give you a fresh new haircut, while Whitney and I deal with Bella’s slumber party.”

  “I think you’ll look real cute with a pixie hair cut.” Whitney slid back inside the room.

  “I agree.” Ava sat down beside me and placed the brochure in my hand again. “It would be befitting: a new do for a new you.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to get some continuing education,” I mumbled. “This could apply to my state renewal anyway.”

  “So you’re going to do it?” Ava asked.

  “I haven’t agreed to it yet. But I’ve been thinking about doing some skip tracing work for some attorneys. I could charge a higher fee with the certification.”

  Ava almost hopped into my lap and hugged me. “I’m so happy we finally see eye to eye!”

  I searched for Whitney’s face. She was balled up on the hospital floor laughing. I didn’t find Ava funny at all.

  “Remember, I didn’t agree to this just yet.” I still needed to chat with Tiger about what happened. “By the way, where’s Tiger?”

  “He’s outside.” Whitney looked at Ava then at me. “. . . raising Hell.”

  5

  Saturday, 4:30 AM

  Emory Johns Creek Hospital, Johns Creek, Georgia

  “Let me tell you what you gon’ do,” Tiger shouted to someone through his earpiece while using his hands to text someone else.

  He stood outside my hospital room door just like Whitney and Ava said. However, they didn’t tell me that he was out there terrorizing the triage nurses, too. His strong voice boomed through the air like the sound of thunder rattling my bedroom windows or what an oak tree sounded like once lightning split it in half. Crisp, hard edged, powerful, and dangerous—with a twinge of Southern ghetto—was what Tiger sounded like with my eyes closed. I tried to get his attention, to get him to whisper, but he was in his zone.

  “You gon’ bring me my money or you’re going to bring me my money. However you dissect that, take it apart, put it back together, and formulate it, what I just said had better come out to fifty thou wows in my hands. You got me? Or you can save yourself the headache and give me Torrance. Let him be a man for once. How else is he going to grow up?”

  I thought about what Tiger had just said and felt guilty. At the rate I was going, I wouldn’t see Bella graduate kindergarten, let alone grow up. This Marlo chick had me twisted. I felt dizzy.

  “Bet.” Tiger nodded. “Bet. We can do that. Tell me when and where. Just don’t play me. Don’t make me send my boys after you. They don’t care that we’re cousins.”

  I got tired of waiting. I got out of bed and tapped his shoulder. “So, are you going to continue terrorizing your cousin or did you come to see me?”

  “Who said I was coming to see you?” He turned around and smiled.

  “Don’t think that because Marlo caught me off guard that I’ll let you get the best of my twin sister.”

  “The best deserves the best, Angel Soft.”

  I tried to playfully swing at his jaw, but stumbled back mid-swing. He slid his phone into his black leather jacket, scooped me up, and carried me back to my medical cot.

  Ava gasped. “Let me call the nurse.”

  “I’m all right,” I mumbled. “The medicine has me a little groggy.”

  “If that’s the case, then you need to sit yourself down and stay down,” he said.

  I could tell by the hesitation in Tiger’s voice when he spoke that he was working hard not to curse in front of Ava.

  I giggled at him and turned away. “Stop being ridiculous.”

  He grinned. “Ladies, I need a minute alone with my friend before the docs kick her out.”

  If Tiger wasn’t such a bad boy, I would have snuck him a kiss years ago. A man like Tiger, of course, was a fine, tall, long, thick bowlegged hottie, the color of homemade chocolate icing. He wasn’t bald, but kept a shadow of fuzz on the top of his head, around his contoured nape and goatee that gave his look some swagger. He oozed the urban coolness of a Decatur man and held a mischievous grin that could make you change your life’s compass if you were not careful. It was a good thing his old torch for me had diverted its attention to Ava. I wasn’t built for love triangles.

  “What’s this about, Tiger?” I said, while gathering my things.

  “Stay down.” He grunted. “You do too much and it’s my fault. I push you too hard.”

  “You push me?” I scoffed and leaned back against my pillow. “Like I said before, you’re being ridiculous.”

  “No, I’m not. I was ridiculous when I didn’t listen to you earlier about waiting to visit Marlo. . . .” He sat down beside me.

  Thank goodness the bed wheels were locked. His 6’3” muscular body would have catapulted me toward a wall.

  “I messed up, baby girl.”

  “It’s spilled milk, Tiger.” I patted his massive back. “After I get my hair done and Bella birthday fabulous, we’ll talk and regroup. Obviously, we’re on the right road now.”

  “No, that’s what I’m telling you. The road is closed. There is no road. We’re done. And as much as I hate to say this, you have a date with Reverend Romance tonight. Yeah, Ava told me that, too. That’s what you need to focus on.” He brushed past my bald patch with his hand. “First, take care of the baby, then this head needs to be priority numero dos. When was the last time you took a vacation?”

  “Vacation? You’re crazy if you think I’m not hunting this Marlo girl down and beating the truth out of her the first chance I get.”

  “Stop it,” he said. “Stop it right now, Angel.”

  “No. . . .” I jerked away from him and stood. “You can’t make me!”

  He grabbed my arms and lifted me back onto the bed. I kicked my legs in defiance. He held them down with his hands. They felt like grips. I couldn’t move below my knees.

  I huffed. “Let me go.”

  “Not until you listen and listen good.” His eyes were red. He was tired and tired of me. “You’re taking a vacation, as of now. I�
��ll pay you to stay home, rest, spend time with Bella, or go to that PI class that Ava has set up for you.”

  “Wow, you’re talking to Ava way too much.” I frowned. “She’s not going to be your woman. You do know that. Right?”

  “I’m serious, Angel. There’s nothing wrong with taking a break.”

  “What are you talking about? I can’t take a break after what just happened. Would you?”

  “Nothing happened, not like what you think.”

  “There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind. I know what I saw.”

  “Why don’t you listen?” He cursed and pulled his beanie off his head. “Look, I didn’t want to tell you this because I’m pissed about the whole thing and now I have to do something I swore I would never do again.... I’m gonna tell you the truth about what happened last night so that you can leave the Gabe nonsense in this room and you can take this vacation in peace.”

  “I know the truth and I’m not taking a vacation.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “After Marlo cracked your head, my rifle made her spill her guts,” he said. “She didn’t know anything about a Gabriel Hwang.”

  “Then who sent it?” I asked.

  “Riddick.” He shook his head and mumbled something.

  Riddick Avery was another independent bail recovery agent, who worked with Tiger. He owned A1 Recovery Agents and mainly worked the far northern counties in the Atlanta area. I didn’t think much of him.

  “That doesn’t make sense for him to do that, Tiger.”

  “It is, if you’re competition.” He lowered his head and sighed. “Riddick doesn’t like the fact that you became a local celebrity after what you did for Ava. You’ve been stealing his thunder.”

  “But I only work for you, Tiger.”

  “He works for me, too, but that’s not the point,” Tiger said. “He’s been pitching a television show to one of those cable networks. Rumor has it the network was more interested in you, because they kept reading about you in the paper.”

  “Is the title of the show ‘Do You Still Love Me?’?”

  “How do you know?” He wrinkled his nose. “It’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. The show is supposed to be about how he convinces skips’ loved ones, you know their girlfriends, baby mamas, and mothers, to give them up. Like he’s some kind of Convict Whisperer.”

  “Real dumb, just like Riddick.” I chuckled. “So instead of pulling more skips off the streets, so he could get in the paper, he decides to send me roses and a stalker photo?”

  “No, I think he was congratulating you on getting Ava off that murder charge and also thanking you for being so distracted with her case that you dropped the ball on the bounty hunting.”

  I shook my head “I still don’t believe it. He needs to tell me that crap to my face.”

  “I don’t know where Riddick is, but you can ask Marlo. She’ll be spending the weekend in the piss chamber at the Dunwoody Jail. Let it go and move on with your life.” He stood up and reached for my bag. A nurse stood at the door with a wheelchair. “And let’s get out of here before the doc changes his mind and admits you for being a hardhead.”

  “Where are the girls?”

  “Your sisters are waiting for you outside. Ava’s taking you home with her, because Whitney has bridesmaid duties.”

  “Yeah, Lana’s having a bridesmaid brunch today.”

  “Whew, there’s a lot to do today.”

  “Right.” He huffed. “It’s too big a day to be dealing with foolishness.”

  “I agree, but I am going to see Marlo this morning. I need to end this today.”

  “And how will you do that? Ava’s not letting you out of her sight.”

  “My head might be bruised, but I still can outsmart her.”

  6

  Saturday, 8: 00 AM

  The McArthur Estate, Stone Mountain, Georgia

  Who would have thought it would be hard sneaking out of a mansion? After all, it was ginormous. Yet I couldn’t, because my sisters had a nosy nose like our mother.

  I had carefully made Ava’s guest bed without making a peep, which was a feat in itself. The white queen-sized canopy had a heavy, white duvet that was a nightmare to lay down quietly. But I did it. Just because I was sneaking out for a few hours didn’t mean I would leave the room messy.

  I didn’t shower, because the sound of the water would tip them off. But I should have. There was a blood stain on my white shirt.

  The trouble came when I couldn’t find my car keys. Ava had driven me here, but Whitney had driven my car here, since she and Ava had come together to retrieve me at Johns Creek. However, the keys weren’t in the guest room Whitney slept in. They weren’t in her purse, on the nightstand, in the bathroom, or on a key rack in the garage. I stood in the garage dumbfounded.

  “I knew you would try to leave without telling us.”

  Mama’s voice made me back into Ava’s Maybach. I had to keep myself from flipping over its hood. Nonetheless I lost my footing and stumbled into the rack. A few keys fell on my head.

  Ouch! I caressed my head. The scarf Ava had given me to cover my jacked-up head now covered my face. Mama slid it off. The expression on her face made me pull the scarf out of her hands and put it back on my face.

  She snatched it, then grabbed my ear. “Cut it out.”

  Let me tell you something . . . the ear pinch hurt worse as an adult. I quailed on my knees and stood up on wobbly legs.

  “Mama?!” I groaned.

  “Don’t ‘Mama’ me. You were about to get into more trouble, weren’t you?”

  Mom, like my twin Ava, was beautiful, privileged, and in some weird way, entitled. Dad had thought her Southern-belle-gone-persnickety personality had to do with the fact that she looked like movie legend Diahann Carroll. Same petite form, high cheekbones, penchant to wear kitten heels even in winter, caramel skin, feline-shaped eyes, and a sophisticated golden coif created to spotlight the expensive jewelry around her neck and on her ears or a church hat big enough to sail in Lake Lanier. Don’t get me wrong. My mom had her bad days, but she always had the company of a good man to carry her through them.

  She had married and buried two ministers before she wed my new stepdaddy, El Capitan (my nickname for him). She thought it would be disrespectful if she didn’t introduce herself as “Mrs. Crawford Curtis Carter, widow of Bishop B.T. Crawford of Calvary United Church of Valdosta, Georgia, widow of Reverend Dr. Augustus Curtis of Piney Grove Community Church of Lithonia, Georgia, and now wife of retired Fulton County Chief of Police, Carrolton Taylor Carter.” I thought she placed too much of her identity on who her husbands were. But then again, back then—and even now to a certain extent—wives made good men greater. So I guessed she had the right to let the world know that she was the wind that blew their sails.

  “I didn’t get into trouble last night. My attacker did and that’s why she is in jail,” I said.

  Mom squinted at me and pursed her lips. She had her arms folded over her chest, with one hand—the one revealing her gaudy wedding ring and band—propping up her chin. “Is that where you were going . . . to see that woman in jail?”

  I nodded. I had enough good sense to not lie to my mom.

  She frowned. “Looking like that?”

  “No.” I felt my lower lip protrude. I was pouting. “I was going home to get cleaned up first. My shirt’s all bloody.”

  “Ava has clothes you can wear.”

  “We don’t share the same taste in clothes.”

  “Are you aware that your daughter is sleeping upstairs, anticipating her grande soirée pyjama?”

  “Did I miss the memo when we begin speaking French?”

  She slapped the back of my head with that ringed hand. “Did you get it? I just sent it.”

  I wanted to roll my eyes, but I was afraid she would slap me, pinch my ear, or something worse, so I stood still. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Now that we’ve cleared the air . . .” She sighed and fl
attened her beige silk blouse.

  The blouse had a huge bow that wasn’t big enough to hide the pearl choker around her neck. I looked down to see her black pencil skirt, fishnet stockings, and black suede Mary Jane pumps. She was dressed way too affluently for a child’s sleepover. Something was up.

  “I’m going to take you to see this idiot woman,” Mom said.

  I perked up. I’m pretty sure my eyes were bulging out of their sockets. “You’re what?”

  “You heard me.” She looked around the garage, then back to me. “I knew you before you were born, Evangeline Grace Crawford. When your mind is set on something, you will scorch the earth until you get it. Today is not the day for that kind of foolishness. Don’t you agree?”

  I nodded.

  “I’m going to take you to see this crazy woman and maybe wrap my hands around her neck, if I can get that close. Then once you’re done, you have a standing appointment at Halle-Do-Ya Spa & Salon. That hair will do fine at jail, but not another minute in my presence. And then . . . I’m taking you shopping. You have a date with the best man this side of happy and I don’t want you to screw it up.”

  “Okay, but, um . . . when will I get my car keys back?”

  “Do you want me to wring your neck this morning?” Her eyes blazed.

  She stepped forward; I cowered back.

  Mom grinned and then revealed my keys. They’d been in her other hand the entire time. “You’ll get them when I give them to you. Now let’s go before everyone wakes up. JJ’s been waiting outside in this cold for at least ten minutes.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I chuckled and let her lead the way.

  Saturday, 9:15 AM

  Dunwoody Detention Center, Dunwoody, Georgia

  Since Johns Creek was a newly incorporated city, inmates were housed at the city of Dunwoody Jail. It was about a half hour drive from the McMansion when you were riding in style.