Piece Keeper

by Antwan Floyd Sr.

  Brown leaned back in his seat, turned his glance from Black, and looked out of the window. “Yeah I heard.”

  “Well, you know I need your help then.”

  “I gave you my help. I don’t even know if he had anything to do with it or not. I was just talking man.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t think, huh?” Brown asked sarcastically. “Tell me what you do think, Mr. Big City District Attorney.”

  “You need to point out who you saw that night.”

  “Point out? Like in a line up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No way, Jack! You won’t get me to sign up for none of that.” Brown opened the car door as if he were going to jump out.

  Black never slowed down as he grabbed Brown by the back of his jacket and pulled him back in. The door slammed closed as he turned the corner. He pulled into a parking lot and slammed on the brakes.

  “What the hell is your problem, Jack?!” Brown yelled out staring Black down.

  “My problem?” Black yelled back just as loud.

  “Yeah you! That door damn nearly took my leg off.”

  “You’re crazy ass was going to jump out! That’s all I need.”

  “What you need to do is—”

  “Wrong!” Black interjected. “We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about Teresa. The woman you claimed to care about.”

  “What can I do? I’m an old vagrant, outcast, America’s vomit, the bowel movement of –”

  Black cut him off midsentence. “Spare me the dramatics, Brown. You’re from the old school you know right from wrong. So shit or get off the pot.”

  Brown stared at the young man long and hard. Black never shifted his glare from Brown. The two were in a deadly stare down. Once Brown saw that neither of them were going to concede he banged on the dashboard. “You damn young people.”

  Black grimaced.

  “Don’t be smiling at me,” Brown barked.

  “Lighten up, Brown,” Black said as he shifted the car back into drive and pulled off.

  “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  Black wanted to check the old man but decided against it. He needed him. He would lose this particular battle in order to win the war.

  “Take me to get a drink and something to eat,” Brown ordered.

  “Not until we agree on some things.”

  “Agree? I’ll point him out or whatever you need me to do or say. Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover my part.”

  “Yeah, well I need a little more than you’ll cover your part. We can’t do this until tomorrow. How will I find you? I don’t have time for another disappearing act.”

  “I’m grown. I come and go as I please.”

  “Thought you were going to cooperate, Brown?”

  “I am. I don’t need no babysitter though. I say I’m going be there, I’m going be there. Just tell me where and when.”

  “I’m going to go against my gut on this one. Don’t prove me wrong, old man.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Take me to get a fifth of Wild Turkey and a sandwich.”

  “The sandwich, yeah. Wild Turkey, I don’t think so.”

  “Sandwich and a drink or let me out right here.”

  “Why you have to be such a hard ass, old man?”

  “You live to be my age and we’ll see how much bullshit you tolerate.”

  “I’ll get the sandwich and the drink.”

  Brown smiled. “My man.”

  “Not a fifth. A pint.”

  “A pint?”

  “That’s it, Brown.”

  “Man you—”

  “And you have to stay in a room tonight. I’ll pay for it.”

  “I told you I come and go as I please.”

  “And you still can. What do you have to lose? I pay for the room, you shower, sleep on a bed, relax or you leave as soon as I leave and rip and run the streets. I get it. You don’t want a baby sitter and I don’t baby sit.”

  Brown turned his head and looked out of the window. They were both silent for several seconds.

  “Fine I’ll do it,” Brown said as Black pulled into the parking lot at the liquor store.

  ***

  One problem solved, now on to the next, Black thought as he went into his bedroom, pulled out his laptop, and logged on. Morena was gone. She hadn’t told him where she was going. They hadn’t spoken much since he told her that he would be staying to keep digging into the case. He dismissed the silence as her merely sulking. He figured she would get over it because she always had in the past. He needed information and only one person he knew could get him this type of data off the books. He logged on to a popular gaming blog website and made a post under the screen name The Piece Keeper seeking gaming tips to help seek out the Blades of Chaos. It was a reference to the popular video game God of War. He logged off of his computer, went down stairs, and fixed himself a drink. Cognac in hand, he stood out on the patio near the pool. Morena still had yet to come in. Moments later his phone rang. Looking down at his phone the CALLER ID read unknown it was the call he was expecting. He pressed TALK on the phone and spoke.

  “This is Black.”

  “You need help finding the Blade?”

  “Yes.”

  “Secure number.”

  “773-809-2172.”

  The line went dead. He walked back through the house and out to his truck in the garage. He got in and opened the glove compartment where he grabbed the throw away cell phone and powered it on. As soon as he turned the phone on it began to ring. He pressed the TALK button.

  “Long time no hear,” the voice said through the phone.”

  “How are you, Seshat?” Black asked the sweet sounding voice through the phone.

  “Some days are better than others and you?”

  “I have a situation.”

  “That doesn’t tell me how you’re doing.”

  “Sorry. I am going through some things. I’ll manage.”

  “You always do. You know you still owe me some time.”

  Black smiled. He had known Seshat for two years now. He’d met her through someone he had falsely convicted. It was a horrible nasty mess. He owed the guy a favor so he helped Seshat out of a nasty situation of her own. They’d met only once but the respect and loyalty was undeniable. It was mostly business but a friendly flirtation was always present. They did favors for one another from time to time. She was a cyber-pirate, according to their mutual friend who was still locked up, and one of the best in the world. He had no idea where she was from or her real name. The only thing he knew about her was that she went by the name Seshat, which he looked up and discovered that it was a code name that meant Egyptian goddess of writing and measurement. He put her at around 19 to 23 years old. She spoke with an accent which made her sound Brazilian, yet he couldn’t be sure. It could have just as well been fake. The time she was referring to was personal. He was tempted to take her up on her offer but had always declined out of respect for Morena.

  “You know I can’t do that, girl.”

  “You haven’t left her yet?”

  “Seshat.”

  “Your loss. Barbados is beautiful this time of year. What’s the Blade you’re looking for?”

  “I need a connection between James Collins.” Black paused to look through his notes in his other phone so he could read them to Seshat. “D.O.B. 9/21/80 and Jason Wallace Witherspoon D.O.B. 1/09/1960.”

  “Witherspoon? You’re still in Donville? Thought that case was closed.”

  “It’s Danville and I see you’ve been watching the news.”

  “Glanced at it. That’s all.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Anyway, give me 15 minutes and I’ll call you back on this number with the information.” The call ended.

  Black sat in the truck and waited. Something was about to happen. He could feel it. It was right in front of him and he wouldn’t be able to stop it. The phone rang again he answered on the first ring. “Piece Keeper.” />
  “No direct connection. Online cash transfers and not between one another. Once a month Witherspoon receives a deposit to an offshore account and 24 hours later Collins receives a deposit.”

  “Does it say where the money is coming from?”

  “Could find out. Need more time to knock down these firewalls. You sounded urgent so I brought you this.”

  “You’re right. Thanks.”

  “You want me to freeze their accounts and move the cash?”

  “Not yet. I’ll get back to you. How much is there and how long have the transactions been taking place?”

  “Looks like $25,000 a month for Witherspoon and a little over ten a month for Collins. It fluctuates.”

  “Thanks. Usual pay?”

  “Half of all I move. Yes, sir. Just give me the word.”

  “Get that firewall down. I need to find out who’s paying these guys. I’ll let you know how we’ll proceed from there.” The call ended.

  ***

  Later that night Black lay in bed alone; still no Morena. He lay in silence wondering how all of this would end. It was funny. He came to Danville for justice and had yet to see the inside of a courtroom. What does it all mean, he thought to himself. His phone vibrated on the nightstand next to the bed. He thought that it may be Morena calling but was surprised to see Teresa’s face flash across the screen. He pressed the talk button.

  “What’s up?” he spoke into the phone

  “Black?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can we talk?” she asked in a subtle tone.

  He sat up in bed now at full attention. “What’s up? Everything alright?”

  “Yeah. I know you heard about what happened earlier today didn’t you?”

  “No. What’s wrong?”

  “I was sent home today. James flipped out and broke Hunter’s wrist.”

  “Good for him.”

  “Yeah, I suppose. Witherspoon suspended James and sent me home saying I was causing a disturbance.”

  “What did Hunter say to you? He threaten you?”

  “No, but something is strange here.”

  “Strange? At your place?”

  “Yeah. I think someone’s been in here.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “You’re not! You’re frightened. You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “Trust me, Black. I’m fine. Just wanted to let you know what I thought.”

  “Why do you think someone’s been in there?”

  “Might be a small thing, but…”

  “But what?”

  “It’s silly.”

  “Spit it out. It may be important.”

  “Some things are missing from my place.”

  “You were robbed?”

  “Not really.”

  “What are you saying? Girl, stop beating around the bush.”

  “My robe is missing and I can’t find the locket my mother left me.”

  “You look around the place?”

  “Everywhere. I just don’t know what to think.”

  “I don’t know… you sure you don’t want me to come over?”

  “I’m sure. Didn’t mean to bother you. Have a good night.”

  “I will.” She ended the call.

  Black sat there thinking. The more he thought about it the angrier he became. All he did was think and react, think and react. Always a step behind. He got out of bed and got dressed in his all black hoody and sweat pants. He grabbed a pair of dark sunglasses from the dresser and was out of the door.

  ***

  The night air felt good against his skin. The vibration underneath him was pulsating through his body and was sending sensations through him that got his adrenaline pumping. He gripped the throttle and hugged the curves on the custom made Augusta crotch rocket. Black was thankful that the people he was renting the home from had left the keys in the ignition. He stopped at the end of the block and watched. The neighborhood was quiet. He expected as much. He sat and watched as he waited down the street from Hunter’s house. He was tired of reacting. It was time for some action. He hit the throttle and the sports bike took off. He rode past Hunter’s house and went around through the alley to the back of his house. Leaving the bike parked by the garage, he cautiously made his way to Hunter’s back door. He hadn’t done this since he was eleven years old. When he was a kid he did a few jobs for a crew in his neighborhood but soon got out of the game. He realized breaking into homes wasn’t his thing. He always felt strange rummaging through people’s stuff. But standing there now at Hunter’s door picking the lock, it felt like second nature to him.

  Stepping into the kitchen, he gently closed the door and stood with his back to the wall for a few seconds. It was darker in the home than it was outside. He let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Finally being able to see, he let his eyes roam the room, more specifically the kitchen floor. He was looking for a dog’s bowl or dog toys. Anything to signify that Hunter had a pet. True, he hadn’t alerted the animal of his presence but that didn’t mean it would stay that way and a dog was a serious problem when breaking into a home. If it’s a big dog, like a German Sheppard or a Rottweiler, it would attack. If it was a small dog, like a pug or Chihuahua, it would make noise and wake the occupants of the house if anyone happened to be home. He knew how to deal with both threats but was hoping he wouldn’t have to. After assessing that there were no dogs he crept along the kitchen, moving from room to room swiftly. Soon he found himself on the second floor standing outside what he presumed to be Hunter’s bedroom.

  He gently twisted the doorknob and entered the room where Hunter was lying in bed asleep. Black stood over the man’s bed and stared down at him as he slept. The room was eerily quiet. Black felt the palms of his hands itch underneath the leather gloves he was wearing. He whispered. “Hunterrr.”

  Hunter jumped up from his sleep. “What the hell?”

  Black remained silent staring at Hunter through the sunglasses.

  “I know you,” Hunter stated. “You’re that lawyer.”

  Black still had yet to speak.

  Hunter looked over at his gun sitting on his dresser across the room. He wanted to go for it but he knew he’d never make it. “What are you doing in here?”

  “I’m picking a side.”

  With that Hunter sprang to action leaping from bed. Black caught him mid-air and threw him across the room. He crashed into the mirror that was connected to the dresser. Black took his time getting to him, allowing him time to get to his feet. Hunter hunched low into a wrestler’s stance as Black stood back with his dukes up ready for the attack. They both edged closer to one another, both watching the other’s moves. Hunter was the first to attack again, lunging out at Black. Black side stepped the attack pushing Hunter off balance with his left hand. Black came down across Hunter’s jaw with a right cross punch. Hunter staggered but didn’t fall. He grabbed a hold of Black’s left arm and pulled him close throwing Black into a full nelson.

  Black instinctively threw both arms in the air and dropped to his knees trying to slip out of the move. But it didn’t work. Hunter was an all-state wrestler in college. He expected the move. He dropped to the floor with Black, laying his weight on Black’s back and tightening his arms around the man, forcing Black’s head to hit the floor. The more Black struggled the tighter the hold became. Hunter fell back bringing Black with him. Hunter wrapped his legs around Black’s midsection and squeezed. Black felt his oxygen being cut off.

  It took everything Black had in him to throw his head back as hard as he could in order to smash the back of his skull against Hunter’s face. He heard the man’s nose crunch. Hunter squealed as blood squirted from his face. Hunter loosened his grip but still held on. Before Hunter could re-group Black threw another head butt, this time busting Hunter’s lip. It was enough for Hunter to let go completely. Black rolled away from Hunter and tried to get to his feet. He wasn’t fast enough. Hunter rushed him, knocking him off balance. Th
e two men rolled on the floor. Hunter grasped Black’s throat and began to squeeze. Black’s eyes bulged from his face as he tried to break Hunter’s grip. This time it wasn’t as easy to get away. Black couldn’t breathe. He felt light headed as he began to see stars sparkling before his eyes. He made one last attempt before he passed out, throwing both legs in the air and wrapping them around Hunter. He squeezed and rolled. Hunter fell to the side but held on. As he felt his ribs being compressed Hunter squeezed tighter. Fighting for his life Black kept squeezing, using both hands he grabbed a hold of Hunter’s hand with the broken fingers and squeezed them until the man finally let go.

  With one hand still wrapped around his throat, Black loosened his grip on Hunter and clutched at the hand with the broken fingers. He pulled them close to his face then Black yanked away from Hunter’s grip and chomped down on one of the man’s broken fingers. He bit down and pulled until the finger separated from the hand. Hunter squealed louder than Black had ever heard anyone squeal before. Hunter was squirming on the floor in awe as he stared at his amputated finger. The fight in him was slowly fading.

  Still lying on his side, Black kicked Hunter in the stomach before sliding across the room. With blood on his face and the finger still in his mouth, Black stood to his feet and spit the finger on the floor. Black walked over to Hunter, placed a foot on his throat, and began to grind as if he were trying to put out a cigarette butt. He did this until Hunter stopped squirming. Black’s adrenaline was rushing so much that he didn’t hear Hunter’s neck snap.

  ***

  Black had spent enough time at crime scenes to know that the longer he stayed the more chances he had of leaving evidence behind. He had worn gloves so he wasn’t worried about fingerprints. The only incriminating evidence was the finger he had bitten off. He picked the finger up and placed it in his hoody pocket. He looked around the room for his glasses that had fallen off during the rumble and found the broken frames on the floor. He picked up all the pieces and placed them in his pocket as well. All that was left was possible saliva samples from when he spit out the finger. He moved quickly as he went through the home looking for cleaning products. He quickly returned with hydrogen peroxide, a scrub brush, and a bowl of ice water. He scrubbed every inch of the room with the ice cold water and peroxide. One last piece of evidence and he was almost 90% sure he would be clear; Hunter’s hand. His DNA was all over it. He swabbed his entire hand with the peroxide then looked around the room once more before leaving the way he’d come in.