The Banks Sisters 2

by Nikki Turner

  “Brothers and Sisters, please, please . . .”

  “I want all my donations back! This ain’t no church. It’s the pit of hell with all this going on,” a member shouted.

  “Now I understand everyone’s concern, and we will address it, but we can say the former Pastor Street is no longer a part of this church or will be of any other after I get through talking to everyone. Now, it’s been a trying morning, and well, to tell you the truth, I think we all need to go home and process what has taken place.”

  There was disappointment heard throughout the crowd gathered, but there was nothing more to be done to correct the damage already displayed.

  * * *

  Although his elusive career was no more, there was more trouble brewing for the former renowned-now-defrocked-and-disgraced pastor. As he snuck his way out of the back of the church and quickly jumped into his car, his phone blared off with text alerts, calls, and even e-mail notifications. He tossed it onto the passenger’s seat and pulled off toward his home. The only thought on his mind was how he could recover from this cruel and malicious incident that cost him everything. Tears began to flow, combined with shouts of anger. “You are so stupid! Why didn’t you just give them the stupid worthless house? You could have gotten way more in the long run!” He banged on the steering wheel, mad at himself about his greedy actions.

  He pulled into his driveway and noticed a familiar car already parked. Cassius’s first reaction was to make a U-turn and get the hell outta Dodge as fast as fucking possible. But when he saw the woman strutting toward his car, he knew he would have to eventually face her, and many others that were indulging in his “special” Bible lessons. This was just the first of many.

  “Cassius Street, get out of that fucking car now!” Katrina waved her hands as if she was directing a child.

  With much hesitation, he slowly parked beside her car, turned the ignition off, and stepped out of the vehicle.

  “What in the fuck is you doing? Did you fuck that freak?”

  Still in the driveway, Cassius decided on taking this indoors. He sure as hell didn’t want the neighbors in his business, and by the tone of Katrina’s voice, they soon would come out to see the show. “Let’s go inside before you embarrass yourself.” He touched her arm to guide her toward the door.

  “Fuck you! I ain’t going nowhere with your lying ass, you fucking faggot!”

  “Please, this is ridiculous that you are even acting this way. Let’s go inside, please, Katrina. I can explain everything.”

  “No, because I have already warned the board that you swindled me out of my retirement money, and they have agreed to pay for all the lawyer fees to press charges on you.”

  “Oh, is that so!”

  “Yes, and by the way, I am pregnant, you stupid piece of shit!”

  “What makes you think it’s mine? If you fucked me behind your husband’s back, who’s to say you ain’t spreading your legs for another? Now you can leave, or I can call the cops to remove you from my property.”

  “You piece of fucking shit! As much as I dislike the Banks, I’m going to send them some flowers for the shit show they put on today for outing you.”

  Cassius watched Katrina stomp to her car still enraged, but he could care less. It came with the territory. Some just play the game better than others. He unlocked his front door and walked inside, struggling with thoughts of what his next move should be. It’s time to blow this joint!

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Simone and Ginger left through the church doors the same way they had entered . . . arm in arm with smiles on their faces. They felt they were victorious, and it showed in their steps as Ginger held the deed to their grandmother’s house in hand. Still hearing the loud panicked voices of folks trying to figure out what had just jumped off and the possible ramifications, the pair was smug. Knowing that their long lineage of family loyalty to that church had come to an abrupt end as of today meant absolutely nothing. Truth be told, when they’d put Me-Ma in the grave burying her, their allure to the church was buried as well. Three feet away from the church stairs Simone was stopped dead in her tracks. She couldn’t believe her eyes. She was surprised, to say the least. Chase Dugan, of all people, was leaning against his car. Not knowing what he could’ve wanted, Simone hesitantly made her way over to his car as Ginger went to his own.

  “Well, hello?” she suspiciously spoke with question.

  “Hello, yourself, Simone.” He raised his eyebrow and smiled.

  Relieved he wasn’t there to arrest her and Ginger for multiple crimes they’d committed, including murdering their mother, Simone loosened up some and returned his smile. “What are you doing here? Matter of fact, how did you even know I was here? Are you using your police tactics to follow me now?”

  “Umm, no, not at all. Your nosy neighbor next door told me,” he laughed. “We need her on the damn police force. She sees everything and will let you know, even if you didn’t want to know!”

  Simone agreed, having grown up next door to her grandmother’s porch gossip buddy. “Well, wow, Chase, I am glad to see you. We kinda got out of church earlier than everyone else.”

  Chase could not contain himself any longer. He had to let her know he’d slipped in church at the end of the first collection for the senior citizens, right before the girl with her boobs hanging out started to read the announcements. “Yeah, Simone, about that . . . I ain’t gonna lie. I normally don’t go to church; I don’t really have the time. But after today, and how your brother blew the spot up . . . It was priceless. I swear on my badge I’ve never seen or heard anything like it. It was like watching some bad movie that comes on late at night.”

  Simone’s facial expression was that of being confused. She was embarrassed that a guy that she was dating and actually liked saw and heard her family secrets get revealed live and in person. It was bad enough the family was going to probably be shunned from even speaking to most folks Pastor Streets’s charities helped, but now she had to contend with this. “Look, Chase, I don’t know what to tell you. That slimeball preacher stole, well, manipulated, my grandmother’s house away from her shortly before she died. We just wanted it back, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, I see. You and your family play hardball just like your brother-in-law said. Remind me not to get on your bad side!”

  The mere mention of Tallhya’s husband’s name pissed Simone off, making her blood boil. “Yuk, please don’t say his name. You know we can’t stand him.”

  Chase agreed not to hint at Walter’s name again as he reached in the rear seat of his vehicle, handing Simone the flowers he purchased. “I had some coffee too, but of course, it’s no good unless you like cold coffee.”

  Deciding to ride with Detective Dugan back to Me-Ma’s, Simone called Ginger telling him she was good on the ride tip, and she’d see him at home. At that point, he informed her he was going to hang out with a few of his friends in the LGBT community and celebrate his victory over the fake down-low, hate-spewing Pastor Street.

  * * *

  Pulling up in front of the house, Chase quickly observed an expensive sports car parked in the driveway behind Simone’s Neon that wasn’t there earlier. “Wow, that’s a really nice whip. I know that hit someone’s pockets hard.”

  Not wanting him to get the wrong impression and think she and her siblings had money or access to it, Simone played it off. “Oh, that’s my sister’s boyfriend’s car. He’s some white guy that plays basketball overseas that’s so in love with her, it’s crazy. He let her drive his car until the lease runs out next month. So . . .” Having explained her way outta Bunny’s dead boyfriend that robbed the stickup man and sponsored the car, Simone was good.

  Going inside, Simone offered Chase something to drink and told him to take a seat in the living room. Walking upstairs she found Bunny in Ginger’s bedroom plugging in the flat irons. She knew Bunny had been through the wringer and was still suffering from the loss of Spoe, but prayed shit between them could be re
paired without further disagreements or fights. “Hey, sis, are you okay? Are we okay?”

  Bunny knew Simone was making reference to the big disagreement that had taken place over at her condo the night before. Knowing she was wrong as two left feet and had blown the entire thing out of proportion instead of just taking the time out to explain her dire need for a small bit of the ill-gotten gain, Bunny wasted no time taking a cop to her bullshit. “Of course, we are. I mean, we family; sisters. What else can we be but good? That’s why I’m in here using this crazy ho’s flat irons. She got the best hair-grooming shit in the city, not to mention clothes I may need to borrow if I wanna go hang out in some club with hood rats! Shiddd, a bitch never know which way the wind gonna blow.”

  Simone was relieved the matter was finally over. She did inform Bunny she’d counted and split the cash up, and her share was wrapped in a bag in the back of the closet in her old bedroom. From this point on, it’d be on each individual to govern their own selves when it came to spending the money. Bunny was overjoyed because this way, she didn’t have to further involve her siblings with her plans of Dino’s demise.

  “Well, Chase, is downstairs if you wanna say hello. He met me at church and brought me some flowers,” Simone mentioned, throwing her hand up.

  Bunny laughed as she spoke under her breath, “Come on now, dummy. Get your motherfucking life! Why in the hell do I wanna see, say hello, or even give two hot-fire shits about some slow-minded cop that’s trying to lock our pretty asses up? If you wanna sleep, bang, or lay up with the enemy, then that’s on you. So, girl, bye, miss me on all that! Now, beat it. I need to finish my hair. I got somewhere to be tonight.”

  Simone could only shake her head and laugh as well. “Okay, then, cool, but when he leave, I gotta put you up on what Ginger did today. Bottom line, Me-Ma’s house is back to being ours, point-blank.” With that being said, Simone returned downstairs to discover her detective boyfriend looking at the many family pictures her grandmother had showcased on the mantle, sitting on the end tables, framed and hanging on the walls. It was like a small-size shrine to Deidra, Tallhya, Bunny, Ginger, even when he was Gene, and, of course, Simone. “Sorry about that. My sister is upstairs acting silly as normal.”

  Holding his cell in his hand, Chase informed Simone although he’d love to sit and visit with her, he’d received an urgent call from the chief asking him to come into the office. “Maybe we can eat a late dinner if you’re not too busy this evening. How does that sound?”

  Cheesing from ear to ear, she quickly agreed. “Yes, it definitely sounds like a plan to me. I’ll be home all day, so just call me when you get ready.” After walking Chase to his car, Simone returned inside the house and found Bunny looking out the window as the officer of the law drove off. “What you got to say?”

  “Nothing to your sprung ass,” Bunny teased her sister. “So just tell me what that nut case Ginger did at church before I leave. Knowing him, I know it was straight over the top.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  It was nearing five in the evening and Detective Chase Dugan was back in the office attempting still to bring some closure to a few of his more higher-profile cases. Adhering to the wishes of the chief, he’d been working relentlessly since the very second he’d walked in. Finding out one of the news channels in town was going to do a special segment on the spike in criminal activity in the summer months, the officer’s superiors wanted him to be able to give them a little bit more information than what they originally had when the day the crimes were discovered. It was told to him that the murder of Tiffany Ross, along with the more recent floating corpses discovered, would be showcased. That being said, Chase Dugan had to deliver some good news or risk a possible reassignment—fingerprint detail.

  Racking his brain for anything that could save his ass, he reached in his desk drawer retrieving Tariq’s cell phone. Powering it back on, the detective was once again on the deceased young man’s Facebook profile looking at the many RIP posts on his page. Scrolling through them and not seeing anything out of the ordinary, he went back to his photos. Halfway through the second album, he stopped. Wait one damn minute. Why does this picture look so familiar to me? Am I tripping out because I’m so tired or what? It couldn’t be . . . or could it? Struggling with the same photo he thought might have been someone he’d met before, Chase zoomed in on the face. Shit! Naw. I must be bugging! He saved the picture to the device, then cropped out the female standing in the middle with just the initials “B” listed as her name. Son of a bitch! All this time I’ve been running in circles chasing my tail like some deranged dog in heat, and here this girl was only a phone call away for real. Recognizing Simone’s sister, Bunny, who was in most of the pictures at their grandmother’s house earlier as the same girl Tariq apparently had known was almost mind-blowing. Okay then, B as in Bunny; Bunny Banks. Now if I can figure out exactly why my victim was calling her before his murder, I’ll be one step closer to finding out the who’s, what’s, and why’s to this case.

  Taking his time, he went through picture after picture in album after album, saving any and all photos that had the woman of his dream that he was dating, Simone’s sister, in them. Now what does Bunny Banks have to do with this dude, Tariq, and who is the other guy in the picture she hugged up with? I thought Simone told me her boyfriend was some white guy that plays ball overseas somewhere; that’s whose expensive sports car that was in the damn driveway. And what in the hell does Simone’s sister have to do with the dead dancer and Ghostman, a drug-dealer kingpin that robbed the bank? Some shit ain’t right, and I’m about to find out the real deal on all this twisted mess. This might be the very break I been looking for!

  * * *

  Bunny called Dino and, as she already expected, he was ready to drop everything he had planned prior to link up with her. She’d fucked his mind so royally the night before, he was practically begging to not only spend time with her, but some money on her as well. Of course, the Jamaican-born idiot was behaving like any other man that had come in contact with a beautiful, classy, refined woman . . . He wanted the pussy. However, he also felt she was a direct plug to the main plug.

  Dino had money to burn, and he made sure everyone in town knew it. Yet, the girl, Krissi, was much different than the other trout-mouthed bitches he usually rocked with. She acted like she had so much game, he had to elevate his own to even come close to match hers. She’d traveled all over the world. She’d seen places and eaten cuisine and had experiences that Dino knew was beyond his reach; money or not. The midlevel drug dealer knew some things were out of his reach and jurisdiction, no matter how hood rich you were. Certain people only did business with certain people. He prayed Krissi was one of those people that could introduce him to that underworld and back him on his credibility and gangster, if need be. He was prepared to definitely make it worth her while.

  “So you’re going to meet me at the hotel for sure, Dino? I have limited time left in town and don’t have time to be held up.”

  “Listen, baby doll, I’m sorry. I mean Krissi. I’d never waste your time. Like I told you last night, I’m really digging you. I wanna just spend some time with you outside that noise box we were in.” Dino was not used to bowing down to any female’s demands, but she was not just any female, so he took a cop. “Hey, now, I know that spot last night was not top-notch, what you used to and all, but trust, I gotcha next time you’re in town.”

  Bunny held the hotel house phone to her ear and grinned. “Okay, Dino. I believe in you, and I wanna see you as well, away from that environment. So here’s the plan. Go to the hotel and grab a suite for us to chill in. I’ll call you at about seven on your cell from the lobby, and you can tell me the room number. Is that cool with you?”

  Dino was ecstatic. He was going to not only spend time with his opportunity in high heels; he was going to get some of that perfectly shaped ass as well. “Don’t worry. I’ll be on time and waiting. Is champagne good for you?”

  Bunny d
ug underneath her fingernails scheming as she ended their conversation leaving him to wonder, “Why don’t you surprise me? I’ll call you at seven.” Having already checked into the same hotel she’d used the Metro Car service at the evening before, she kicked up her feet and relaxed, staring out the huge picture window at the downtown skylights. In less than two hours, she’d be back in the face of Spoe’s killer, and if all went well, Dino wouldn’t make it to see daybreak. At least that was the plan.

  * * *

  Police headquarters had been invaded by the news crew cameras ready to shoot footage of the areas in the building that were equip to run different tests on crime-scene evidence. The Forensics Department had received a huge federal grant, and now it was time for them to show and tell. As the reporters filmed one aspect of the crime-fighting efforts segment, Detective Chase Dugan got groomed and prepped for his interview by the chief and the mayor as well. He was told what to say and what not to say. Although he was trained for years on how to deal with nosy reporters, they felt the need to reschool him on the art of avoiding certain questions and making the police force, in general, come off smelling like roses.

  After the reporters were finally done grilling him, Chase ducked into the bathroom to wash off the small amounts of commercial powder and makeup their makeup people forced him to wear so as not to appear too shiny faced on the camera. Splashing a few handfuls of cold water on his face, he allowed it to drip down back into the sink. Grabbing a few brown, rough-textured paper towels out of the wall-mounted dispensary, he stared into the mirror. As he double-checked, making sure no signs of the added beauty products were still visible, the wheels in his mind started turning again.

  Sitting behind his desk, he used a pencil with an eraser and drew himself a graph. Drawing line after line, he detailed possible ways all the people and potential leads he’d come up with were linked. Still haunted by possible connections Simone’s sister, Bunny, had to all of this, he decided to cut straight to the chase and ask Simone. They were supposed to meet for dinner later on, so it would be the perfect opportunity for him to make the needed inquiries without seeming as if he was suspicious of Bunny.