by Joy, E. n.
Cannon lustfully smothered her petite body with his six foot two, two hundred pound muscular frame. His tan complexion exuded beads of sweat as they trickled down his forehead and graced his sideburns, nesting in his beard before falling on to Dina. The combination of the pleasure their bodies produced had reached its peak as they erupted together as one.
Holding, who he thought was his fiancé, tightly in his arms, Cannon exhaled. He slid his fingers through the strands of her thick, brown hair that was now flowing freely as his mind slid into thought. There was something different about his lover's performance. He thought she was a lot more versatile in her movements and vociferous in the screams of passion released from her lips. But he liked the change. He liked it a lot.
"Denise, what's gotten into you?" he panted, still reeling from her pleasurable performance.
"You," Dina replied.
"No, I mean, it's like you're a totally different woman."
She laughed softly to appease his comment, and said, "I'm the same woman you fell in love with. The woman you've chosen to make your wife."
Dina rarely saw her sister in action, but she knew how corny she was and she knew that Denise loved Cannon with all of her heart. She tried her best to be in character. She didn't want him to become suspicious or concentrate too hard on the differences of her and her twin.
Cannon held her close. "I'm the luckiest man in the world."
"No, baby, I'm the lucky one," Dina said, smiling a sinister smile.
***
The police precinct was filled to capacity with lawbreakers of all types. The atmosphere was drab and noisy with various officers processing their suspects. A female officer stood behind the control center as she snottily asked Denise for her hands so she could be fingerprinted.
"Is all of this really necessary?" Denise asked. "I'm telling you, you have the wrong person. I am Denise Stewart. My sister, Dina, is the woman you're looking for!"
"Sure, sweetheart, and let me guess, you guys are identical twins, right?" she asked, factitiously.
"Yes, we are!" Denise angrily insisted.
The officer laughed in her face. "Girl, please, do you know how many times we hear that one?" she asked as she continued to take personal pleasure in the situation.
"I don't care how many times you've heard it, I'm telling you the truth, and if I'm not permitted to make my phone call right now, I'll slap you with one of the largest lawsuits this rat trap has ever seen!"
"Huh. You'd better get in line. And you need to watch your tone. I don't have to let you make a call."
"Oh, yeah? Try me," Denise warned.
"Hey, Sarg, we got a live one over here," the officer shouted.
Sergeant William Blathers came over to see who was causing a ruckus in his station. His protruding belly jiggled as he waddled over. The salt and pepper hair that framed his dark brown skin was the most distinguishing part of his physique, even with the bald spot that was quickly invading the top of his head. Swollen ankles hung over his black orthopedic shoes that were taking a serious beating from the weight of their owner. It had been years since he'd been out on the streets. The weight requirement of an officer no longer applied to Blathers. He had more than paid his dues in his hey day on the streets of Richmond's North side. His excitement now consisted of taunting, and scaring straight, repeat offenders and the newbies that graced his station.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't her majesty herself," Sergeant Blathers proclaimed. "I knew you'd be back."
"When I get finished with this precinct, you'll all be looking for new jobs," Denise threatened.
"Do you hear this crap?" He looked at his officers in disbelief. "What are you, delirious?" Sergeant Blathers looked Denise in her face. Excess saliva had gathered in his mouth as he literally showered her with words. "You're a repeat offender who doesn't want to pay her debt to society by doing the time for the crimes you've committed, and you want to threaten us with a lawsuit? Give me a freakin' break!"
"You know, Sergeant Blathers," Denise stated to let him know she had his name, "you might want to watch your mouth. Right now you're looking at a charge of false arrest, slander and libel. And I could go on. You may be doing some time yourself when this is all said and done." Denise kept firing her verbal missiles.
Sergeant Blathers gave Denise a scowling look and told her, "Give it your best shot. With your record, they'll be throwing you under the penitentiary."
The officers continued to make the booking process hard on Denise. Her fingers were squeezed tightly as she was fingerprinted and her face forcefully nudged while being photographed. She was then thrown into a holding cell with a few other temporary residents who were already making themselves comfortable. Denise kept mental notes of the badges of the officers that handled her improperly. As soon as she spoke to Cannon, she would be putting them all on blast.
Oh My God, Cannon. Denise wondered what in the world Dina was telling him about her arrest. He's probably on his way to get me out, she thought; she prayed.
Denise knew Cannon would see to it that every officer in the station would be held accountable for their actions of disrespect towards her. She could taste the victory as she mentally pictured the newspaper headlines to read, "Richmond Precinct Plummets after False Arrest".
She then thought about Dina again, and the fact of how she made not one move to help her when she saw her being hauled off in the back of that police car. Denise knew nothing about Dina's outstanding war- rants and realized there was quite a bit about her identical twin that she didn't know a thing about. She told herself that once Cannon posted her bail, she would find out just what her sister was into and how deep.
To say Denise had a curious nature, would be put- ting it mildly. Her inquisitiveness was a trait that drove her twin sister, as well as other family members and friends, crazy. She spent her childhood pastime piecing together puzzles that contained no less than five hundred pieces. Denise found psychological human thought processes and behavioral patterns of individuals incredibly fascinating. It was a wonder why she hadn't gone into psychology or law enforcement; she would have made a great detective. But her pursuit of justice for the innocent overwhelmed her, as she knew that was what God wanted her purpose in life to be, and it ultimately steered her occupational direction in that of a criminal attorney.
"Keep talking. Go on. Keep flappin' them gums. You about to have this size thirteen Timberland all up in yo' mouth. You don't know me. I'll bust you up," yelled one of the detainees who was about to bring it to another suspect in the holding cell.
Denise looked down, and sure enough the little stout woman had on Timberlands as big as banana boats. She wondered what a woman so small was doing with feet that size. Just as Denise brought her face up, she was hit with a blunt haymaker.
"What you looking at?" yelled the woman.
Denise began to scream. She grabbed her face and held it as it swelled. "I didn't say a word to you. Don't touch me. Get me out of here. I don't belong in here," Denise frantically began to yell.
An officer, who had unlocked and entered the cell to let Denise know it was time for her phone call, witnessed the one-sided altercation. "Pauline, get out of her face," the officer spat as his big body came between Pauline and Denise.
"Forget you, man. Yo', did you call Johnson Bail and Bonds for me, dawg?" Pauline asked with her deep voice. She smirked as she walked away from Denise as if she had never touched her. It was evident that this was a routine visit for Pauline. She seemed very much at home.
"Please. They're not even taking your calls no more. You in too deep," the officer joked, as he guided Denise out of the cell. He told Pauline, "You'd better get a few of your strippers to go pop that thang and come pay your tab, or you'll be spending Christmas in jail."
The thought hit Denise like a lightening bolt. She could be in jail for Christmas. Her stomach started doing somersaults.
The officer shook her out of her daze. "You got one call. Better make it a good one."<
br />
Cannon was Denise's first and only choice as the candidate of her call. She felt better already just knowing she had a knight in shining armor that would break the bars apart to come and get his woman.
Denise's mind shifted briefly as did the pain in her jaw. She told the officer who was escorting her, "I'm going to need that woman's name and address."
"For what?" the officer asked.
"For what? You saw her assault me. I'm also going to need you to be a witness."
The officer chuckled. "First of all, I didn't see a thing. I know you know the code around here. Now look, Queen, you can stop the act. This is me, Smitty. Now how many times have I processed you, huh? Every time they brought your pretty little tail in here, so you can't run game on me. I know who you are and we got you this time," he told her.
"I'm real tired of telling you people, you're talking about my sister. There must be a way you can check out what I'm saying."
"Whatever, Queen, tell it to the judge," Smitty said nonchalantly. He wasn't paying her any mind. "If you know what I know, you better get comfortable. You're a wanted woman. There's no judge in his right mind that will give you a bond."
Denise wiped that notion completely out of her mind. She didn't want to even contemplate the possibility of staying in jail. Cannon played a major role in the court system. One word from him and she'd be free.
In Virginia, an inmate's first call was direct, anything after that would have to be collect or pre-paid. Denise picked up the heavy receiver and dialed as she stared at her distorted reflection in the black enamel telephone.
The ringing of the phone woke up Cannon. "Who would be calling here at this hour?" Cannon asked as he reached to pick the phone up. Dina was still wrapped in his arms.
Dina quickly reached over him and snatched up the cordless receiver, silently cursing herself for not remem- bering to disconnect that final line. She knew exactly who was calling, "I got it, baby," she said, as her voice leveled with a calm, "Hello."
"Dina? What are you doing at my house, and why are you answering my phone? Why did you just stand there and let them take me? Where's Cannon? I need to speak to him right away. You all have got to come and get me out of here!" Denise wanted to make sure she said everything she needed to before her time was up.
"Look, Dina, you've got to face what you've done. You can't keep running. Cannon and I will take care of the kids until you can post bail and we figure some things out."
"What are you talking about, face what I've done? What do you mean, you and Cannon? Dina, why are you doing this? I've never done anything to hurt you. I love you; you're my sister!"
"I love you too, Dina. Trust me, everything will be okay."
"It's Christmas, for Christ's sake, Dina. Don't do this to me!"
"I'm sorry, but Cannon and I both have to get up in the morning. Thanks to you, I'll have to call off of work so I can take care of your kids."
Denise, not believing what she was hearing, stayed steady in her last test of faith and told her sister, "Dina, listen to me, and listen to me good. The devil is busy. He's eating at your soul. I can see that now. You're stronger than him, though. I know you have no belief in God anymore, but everyday I pray for you and I ask that He come into your life. My sister, flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood, please, I ask you in the name of the Father, of the Son and the Holy Spirit to pray to the Lord, our Savior, and continue to search your soul for the righteousness and good in your heart. It's there, you hear me. I know it's there. Dina, please don't leave me in here."
Denise had no idea where those words had come from because she was starting to believe there, for a minute herself, that God had forsaken her. But now, just when she had started to grow meek, God used her to speak through.
"That was very moving, Dina, sweetie, but this is not Burger King, and you just can't have everything your way." Dina pressed the end button on the phone and turned the ringer off. She put her arms around Cannon's neck and gave him a long, soft kiss.
"You did the right thing, Denise sweetheart. She's got to learn," Cannon said, glad that for once, his woman had finally gotten some backbone with her sister.
"Hopefully, one day she will. I just feel so bad for all of them. Her and the kids," Dina said, bucking for an Academy Award as she drove it home.
Meanwhile, Dinky had crept quietly to the bathroom, and had been on his way back to bed, when he was stopped in his tracks by his mama's voice, shortly there- after, coupled with sound effects that were all too familiar to him. He couldn't believe what she was doing with Uncle Cannon and what she could have possibly done to his auntie. Granted, he had only heard one side of the phone conversation, but he had heard enough. His mama was framing his Auntie Dee. Now he under- stood why his mama was dressed like her when she came into his room. She planned to let his auntie take the fall for her crimes.
Not only was Dinky confused, but so was Denise as she stood still holding the black receiver in her hand. Her entire body felt weak. A steady flow of tears streamed down her round brown cheeks. She wished this was all a bad dream and that she'd wake up and everything would be as it should be, normal. But Denise knew that wasn't true. This was very much reality. She was trapped in the lion's den.
Smitty had heard Denise's side of the conversation and was now, himself, a little baffled. This woman couldn't have possibly used her one, and only, phone call before arraignment to talk to herself. She sounded determined and very sincere. The Dina Stewart that came through their precinct was friends with the devil, if she, in fact, wasn't the devil herself. She wouldn't have been telling anyone to search their soul for God.
Maybe Dina Stewart did have a twin, Smitty thought. But even if that were the case, what could he do about it?
Chapter Four
REVELATIONS
Sunday morning had approached, and Cannon was already up, showered, dressed and on his way to make the coffee that Denise normally would have already made and had sitting on his nightstand. He figured with all of the action last night, his honey may be a little tired, so he let her be.
"Uncle Cannon," Kayla yelled as she jumped into his arms.
"Hey there, good morning, sugar plum," Cannon said as he kissed her on her pudgy cheek.
"Did my mama come here last night? I thought I heard her talking," asked the seven year old who, as the elders would say, seven going on forty-seven.
Dina came into the kitchen right on cue. "No, your mama didn't come last night. Where's your brother and sister?" Dina asked, trying hard to avoid direct eye con- tact with Kayla. Dinky was on point, but Kayla was as sharp as a tack. It wasn't easy to get much pass her.
"They're still upstairs. Dinky's playing that stupid game. Kima was coughing and needs some more medi- cine. We want some Fruity Pebbles," Kayla said, all in one breath.
"I don't know if we have Fruity Pebbles," Dina told her.
"Auntie, you always have Fruity Pebbles." Kayla looked at the woman she believed to be her auntie. "It's your favorite."
"Oh, yeah, I mean I know that. It's just that I don't know if we have anymore." Dina polished that one up.
Kayla went on about her business, locating a brand new, unopened box of Fruity Pebbles cereal and every- thing else she needed. She gave her auntie a strange look before carrying an armful of products back to her room for her and Kima.
Cannon watched his fiancé work her way around her own kitchen as if she'd never been in it before. He attributed her aloofness to the stress she'd been under. He thought about the pleasure she had given him the night before and once again ignored his apprehensions. However, there was one issue he couldn't ignore.
"Denise, where's your ring?" he asked.
Dina had forgotten all about the engagement ring she didn't have. "I...I must have left it somewhere. Maybe it's upstairs."
"Do you know how much that ring is worth? You need to be on a manhunt right now searching for it." Cannon couldn't believe how nonchalant she was acting about losing the ring.
> "Don't worry, baby, I'll find it." He let out a deep sigh and continued. "I don't think it was wise of you to call off of work. You know they're depending on you for the McMillan case. You've worked every weekend for the past month. Are you sure you know what you're doing? I mean, it's Sunday. I'm off. I can keep the kids."
"I'm sure I know what I'm doing." Dina wanted to keep the conversation as light as possible. The last thing she needed was for Cannon to start going on and on about something she knew absolutely nothing about.
"You'd better be. This is huge. Just yesterday you still had tons of research to do and briefs to pull. Now you're taking time off?" Cannon pulled Dina's face to his. "Babe, you've worked extremely hard on this trial, not to mention once you pass the bar, Blake and Headley is first in line just waiting for you. I'd hate to see you throw all of that away because of your sister's dilemma.'"
"Cannon, what do you suggest I do, take the kids with me to work? As soon as I get them straight, I'll go back."
"Get them straight? And just what do you plan to do with them?" He was very interested to know.
"I know one of Dina's men friends that really care about these kids. I'm going to get them over to him for a few days," she told him.
"Are you serious?" Cannon was in disbelief. "Do you really know this guy? Or is he one of your sister's drug partners? I thought you were considering taking them away from her?" Cannon drilled her.
Dina had no idea that her sister had dibs on her kids. Don't tell me my own sister was gon' snitch on me. So she was gon' take my kids, marry her prince and have a ready made family, huh? Now that she knew her sis- ter was planning to stab her in the back, she really had no remorse for her actions. It was time to set the stage. She got back to Cannon and his question session.