Full Figured 7

by Nikki Rashan

  She burst out laughing while taking my watch off and trying to answer in between gasps for air. “Girl, it don’t say nothing about ooy; it says four o’clock.”

  Her fingers lingered on my wrist a second too long and I snatched my watch from her hand. Frowning, I grabbed one of the umpteen pillows from behind me and stuffed it in between us, making myself a pillow barricade.

  “Don’t you be trying to touch, taste, look at, or sample these cookies. I don’t care who I look like or remind you of. Don’t . . . get . . . it . . . confused. I’ll shoot a bitch.” Giggling probably took some of the severity out of my tone, because even though I was serious it was the craziest threat I’d ever had to issue to anyone, let alone to a woman half my size.

  I might have been dreaming, might not, but I could have sworn as I closed my eyes I heard her whisper, “Don’t worry, I ain’t got to take it. You’ll be begging me to taste it by the time I’m done.”

  Staring down at my promotion on my desk, the only person I could think to text was the person I woke up next to this morning.

  Text To Tia 8:49 a.m.: Good morning, woman! Make my bed whenever you get out of it. Oh and I got a promotion. Yaaay!

  “Partner, you ready to get to work or what?”

  “Yeah, guess I don’t have a choice since you so damn gung-ho today.”

  Pulling a pen from my desk I quickly scanned all the pages and signed my name across each of the documents. The first order of business after I admired my new badge was to get this private meeting with the chief out of the way. It was probably to discuss my weight. Chief Reid was a gruff, no-nonsense asshole from what I could tell. He had all these dents in his cheeks and I didn’t know if they were from some sort of skin condition or a birth defect.

  Entering his office on the fourth floor was like walking into an executive suite. He was seated behind a large mahogany desk and stood to greet me.

  “Taylor, welcome to my dungeon,” he called out, chuckling at his own joke. I smiled politely and waited for him to continue. “I called you in here to discuss the Sherman & Waltman case file. Although you come highly recommended, the manner in which the drives were taken indicates an inside job. We have an informant, an unreliable informant, who says you might be connected.”

  “That’s insane. I already said I didn’t know anything about Davin’s business, sir,” I burst out in outrage.

  “Like I said it’s an unreliable informant. Hence, I’m not withholding your promotion. I think you are an excellent officer. Look, a great writer once said ‘we are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master,’ and you are by far one of my best apprentices. I just can’t let you work the case. Second . . .”

  From that point forward I heard nothing else he said. This was ridiculous, and I could probably sue someone for slander. He was talking about my weight and their standards and I couldn’t care less. I was happy with my weight, loved it, matter of fact. My husband tried to control it, my ex. I damn sure wasn’t going to let anyone else do it and especially not an overweight white man with a “foopah.” You know, that bit of belly fat that usually only women tend to get below their belly button over their abdomen. Well his ass had one, and it was weird as hell to see a man with a flat stomach up top and this big ass “foopah” at the bottom.

  He had a habit of crossing and uncrossing his legs like a woman, and I fought the urge to scream, “You are a man; why the hell do you have to keep doing that?” How did he buy pants, or underwear? He was married; how did his wife feel? Did she “lift” his “foopah” to give him head if she even still gave him head? And how dare he talk to me about my weight when he looked like he might be seven months pregnant!

  And then I saw it. Faded and smudged, blotchy and somewhat unrecognizable yet there all the same. It was just above his blue dress sock among the varicose veins poking out of his calf. My mouth dried and my brain emptied as he uncrossed his legs and his pants leg fell down, covering the hideous snake tattoo that I’d forgotten all about from all those years ago. He was the guy I’d seen meet Carlos in the library that night. He had to have been the reason the old chief had that accident.

  We tersely shook hands. I then nodded as if I’d heard and agreed with every word he’d said and took my leave. My mind was a cluster bomb of angry musings. Why was I facing so much backlash behind a man who never even loved me, and if Chief Reid was dirty, how dirty was he?

  My next order of business was looking up this Shonique woman’s information so I could pay her a visit. She wasn’t hard to locate in the computer system and was actually not far from where I lived, which kind of pissed me off. I jotted down her information, hell bent on getting answers out of someone, and marched off for number three on my list: speak with Vee before she was transferred to a secluded holding cell away from the other detainees, and out of my reach. I silently escorted her to an empty interrogation room.

  She glanced around skittishly and asked, “What’s this about?”

  I leaned onto the desk across from her and answered, “This is about me needing a favor. Vee, what I can or can’t do depends on what you do. Did the name Davin Taylor or Alicia Taylor ever come up?”

  “Nah. Not that I can remember. Look can you just get word to Tia? Tell her to get somewhere safe? Can’t you put her in that witness protection shit until this blows over?” Vee stared at me pitifully.

  Tia’s safety had honestly never crossed my mind. I stood in the doorway of the interrogation room while I tugged on my right ear lobe in thought.

  “Uh-oh. I see mami tugging. What’s the problem?” Lorenzo walked out of a room across the hall, a recorder and clipboard in hand.

  I nodded in Vee’s direction. “She wants witness protection for her girlfriend.”

  “We don’t have a huge budget, Vee. We don’t even know if what you say will bring anyone in.” Lorenzo’s tone was snide and overly condescending, as if he were addressing a young, spoiled, rotten child asking for a toy at the store.

  “What! Soon as I start saying what I have to say, they gonna know who’s saying it. I can give you everything. She doesn’t get any kind of protection, then I’m not talking and you can kiss that upgraded gold piece of shit on your chest good-bye,” Vee retorted. She stared up at the ceiling, defiantly chewing the inside of her lip.

  I grabbed Lorenzo’s arm and dragged him into the corridor, closing the door to the interrogation room so Vee wouldn’t hear out conversation.

  He snapped at me as soon as the door latched in place, waving the clipboard to accent his point. “We don’t have to give her witness protection, Al; that’s wasting money from our budget that we can direct toward other things.” His jaw was crooked to the side; he wasn’t going to budge on this, I could already tell.

  “Lo, the girl can stay with me. I’m just as good as witness protection. Think about it. I’m not on the case.”

  “You’re what?” he yelled in my face, the vein throbbing out the side of his neck.

  “Chief Reid told me just now. I’m too attached. Think about it: no one knows where I live, I can keep an eye on her. And, we won’t have to spend a dime.”

  “You sure? You don’t have to, you know.”

  My phone vibrated and I looked Lorenzo in his eye, answering him, “Yes, I’m sure. It is what it is right? This will be for the greater good of the case. We just tell Vee whatever she needs to hear, and I’ll smooth everything over with her girl. The chief cannot get wind of this shit though. I just got this badge; I’m not trying to lose it.”

  Lorenzo lifted his head in agreement before going back into the interrogation room across the hall. I walked back in and nodded at Vee, giving her the okay.

  Relief swept across her face before she leaned forward and whispered, “Don’t tell anyone, not even your partner. We talking billion dollar files, not millions. Go to the house; they taped to the top of the ceiling fan blades. I condensed ’emto terabyte flash drives no bigger than lipstick tubes. You’ll find five.” She leaned back and
acted as if she said nothing.

  Lo came in to escort her out. I looked away to read the texts from Tia to hide my shock at actually knowing where they were and their worth.

  Reply From Tia 10:16: Ahh! Congrats! We gonna celebrate! I made the bed Lol!

  Text To Tia 10:16: I have a guest room. You should just stay with me for a while.

  Text To Tia 10:16: Look, You need to. For your safety. I’ll explain later.

  Reply From Tia 10:17: wow and um ok? I guess I need to go get a few of my things from the apartment. I can take a cab. I’ll Brb.

  Sighing, I went to put in a leave chit for the rest of the day. I had some things I needed to get in order if my home was going to be a damn safe house.

  Chapter 13

  Trouble With Two T’s

  The drive to Shonique’s only took thirty minutes and I was relieved to see a black Audi sitting in the double driveway. Humph. Most likely purchased with Davin’s money. My heart sounded like an army of ants marching in my ears as I approached the three-story brick house. There was a wide balcony that ran along the second and third floor and the yard was lined with evergreens trimmed into triangles. As I climbed the steps I rehearsed what I’d say, how I’d smile and shake her hand. Maybe offer my condolences even though it would feel strange.

  The door flung open just as I was about to ring the doorbell. She screamed at the sight of me; she was obviously on her way out and wasn’t expecting anyone to be on her front porch. I screamed, because I recognized her immediately. She was a little shorter than me and we were about the same build. Jealousy was my first reaction because up close and personal she was actually beautiful, with an oval-shaped face and large doe-like eyes.

  “You’re Shonique Padilla?” It was as if I were accusing her of being herself. Shock was registered on my face.

  “Yes. Why are you on my front porch, Officer? Can I help you?” She didn’t recognize me at first, but her eyes widened when they landed on the name Taylor on my uniform. The department still hadn’t changed my tags due to funding issues.

  “You were at P.F. Chang’s with Davin that day. I don’t want any trouble. Please I just really need to understand what happened. Why he married me if he was already married to you.”

  She looked warily at the gun perched on my hip and I raised my hands to show I meant no harm.

  “Okay. Come inside.”

  I followed her inside and was in awe at the massive amount of art on all of the walls. We sat in what I’d call a formal living room and she began to explain.

  “Davin was my father’s attorney. He was paid to keep him out of prison. There aren’t too many people who know who my father is or that he even has a daughter. I stay to myself. Father didn’t trust him so he had him marry me as insurance. In the event Davin didn’t hold up his end of the deal and father went to prison. Davin’s assets were willed to me. That’s all there is to it.”

  Her story made sense and yet it still made absolutely no sense, it didn’t explain why Davin would marry me. “And you’re sure your marriage was legal and binding?”

  “We went to the justice of the peace and everything.”

  “Do you have any idea then why he would marry me and not tell me about you or let me believe my marriage was real? Do you know anything about his Sherman & Waltman accounts?”

  “Maybe he thought he’d win, and he’d be able to annul our marriage? I can’t answer for a dead man and I don’t know about his accounts. All I know is he cost me more than anything his money could ever buy me.” Her eyes took on a sad, faraway look.

  “If you mean Tia, I think she misses you.”

  “Ha. Tia is still a confused little girl looking for a dick long enough to reach her heart. That’s the only way she’d call it love. What’s done is done. I have things to do. I am sorry for your loss.”

  She stood, and dismissed me. I left with more questions than when I went over there. But, I felt somewhat at ease that Davin wasn’t living a complete quadruple life. Their marriage was more for paperwork and that was still crazy but I could wrap my brain around that.

  After running around getting groceries, extra towels, and things for the house I was beat. Vee’s place was last on my list of stops to make and I prayed no one would pay too much attention to me as I went into the rental office and requested a key.

  “You’re the second cop to come around here today,” the young girl said from behind the counter between pops of chewing gum. I froze with the key suspended in mid-air and stared into her blue-green contact lenses.

  “Who was the other cop?” I asked her suspiciously. No one else should have known about the drives; there was no other reason for a cop to go in there.

  “I didn’t even think to ask him. Just gave up the key like I’m doing right now.”

  Something told me it was Lorenzo; there was an unmistakable intuition I couldn’t shake as I walked out and made my way to the apartment. The power was off and the faint scent of stale marijuana and aftershave lingered in the air. Placing on a pair of my latex gloves, I climbed up on the couch and ran my hand across the top of the fan blade. Clumps of dust fell around all around me, and just as I suspected there was nothing there. Tired and pissed at someone getting the jump on me I cursed and returned the key. I’d have to figure something else out, but for now it was time to take my ass home.

  The last thing I expected when I pulled up to my house, ready to open a bottle of wine and relax, was to not be able to get into my own damn driveway. Somebody’s Escalade had my driveway completely blocked, forcing me to park on the side of the house on the street. Immediately pissed, I texted Tia, telling her to move her shit or her friends or whatever. A good five minutes passed before I started to get nervous. She hadn’t replied and I was supposed to be her “witness protection.” Shit. What if whoever was after Vee had followed her back from picking up her things?

  No windows faced the street in this direction so I couldn’t peek in. I’d have to actually go take a look. Creeping quietly out of my car I made my way up toward the house. I couldn’t pull my weapon in broad daylight; my neighbors were too damn nosey. All it would take was for one of them to see something going on and we could have a hostage standoff before I could even get a look at the situation. The house was quiet as I made my way toward the door on the side of the garage. I never locked it, and once inside I’d be in the laundry room on the opposite side of the kitchen.

  I made it all the way through the garage without making a sound. The house was quiet except for what sounded like the TV, and I cursed silently as I tripped over a stack of newspapers by the laundry room door.

  “Hey? Hey? Y’all hear something?” The muffled sound of a man’s voice floated toward me. I strained to hear more without having to open the door.

  “Nah, you scared Hubby the Unfriendly Ghost gonna float up in here? Get back over here; we got business to handle,” another male replied.

  I could now clearly make out two distinct male voices.

  “No. No. Please, I said stop. Stop!” Tia sounded frantic and scared.

  My instincts kicked in. I had the advantage. I knew the layout of my house better than a blind man trapped in a cactus patch. The element of surprise was on my side and they were breaking and entering, assaulting, and I could only imagine what else. Shooting to kill would be in my favor if I had to.

  “Grab—” One of the men had started to say something.

  Before I could lose my nerve I flung open the laundry room door and bolted forward toward the direction of their voices, my .45 leading the way, aimed and ready.

  “Don’t nobody grab a damn thing. Police, on the ground or I’ll shoot.”

  A guy in a gold sweatshirt dropped to the ground so damn fast you’d have thought he fell through a trap door, but the other was still standing beside Tia. His eyes locked defiantly with mine; his hand was raised or raising. Grazing the trigger ever so softly, narrowing my right eye, I took aim. He wasn’t dropping, and I specifically said, “Drop.” T
he blood rushing in my ears was like a foreign object, an alien spaceship was landing in my brain and the bathroom floor was covered with blood.

  “Tajah?” It was just a whisper. It could’ve been my subconscious but it broke through my mental haze as if it were a scream. My hand shook as the .45 suddenly seemed to double in weight. I’d gone and officially fallen off the deep end. Was my daddy talking to me now?

  They were both still staring back at me, as my vision focused and everything became clear.

  Tia was the first one brave enough to speak. “Everything’s okay I swear. I was just telling him to please not pour anymore in my shot glass, Licia.” She was wide-eyed, talking extra loud, and extra slow, like I was psychotic, deaf, and dumb.

  My eyes never left the guy beside her. Frowning, I tried to figure out what it was about him, and why was he watching me strangely? When he tilted his head to the side I realized it wasn’t defiance creasing his eyebrows and clouding his eyes, it was recognition. And, if I’d taken in more of the scene I’d have probably noticed the shot glass in his left hand.

  “Licia? Umm, I feel extra safe and everything but can you please stop aiming the gun at my cousin?” Tia asked before taking a timid step toward me.

  Slowly I lowered the pistol, confused at being called a name I hadn’t heard out loud since I’d changed it.

  “Well damn, Tia. Let me find out you done moved in with Darkie Morgan. Dexter Morgan’s other sister, the one they don’t talk about on the show.” Goldie was talking a lot of shit from on the ground. Especially considering the fact he was the only one to hit the deck, and he hit it quick at that. He stood slowly, brushing invisible dirt off his blinding gold sweatshirt.

  Holstering my pistol, I straightened my uniform and smiled as they all laughed at his attempt to lighten the situation. It was awkwardly funny.

  Tia did the introductions. “Licia, that’s Jin in the gold and this is my cousin—”