by Emery, Lynn
Teedie took him to yet another door, which was recessed in a wall and covered with padded, fake red leather. He pushed through without knocking. In the room beyond, a long sofa was pushed against one wall. Two men were seated on it.
Opposite them was a large oak desk with two phones. To the left of that was a table with a computer on it, behind which was a light-skinned black man, lounging in a big leather chair. He stood up and walked around. With one look from him, the other two men got up and left the room.
Pookie stared at LaMar for a time. “Been a long time, cousin.”
“Long enough,” LaMar said. “Uncle Clarence is doing okay. You oughta call him once in a while.”
“What for? He says he only got two sons. Since I don’t exist, I can’t call him.” Pookie wore an angry, resentful look.
“He’s hurt at the life you chose. You can’t buy his approval, Pookie. All this, it ain’t no good.” LaMar swept a hand around.
“You my cousin, not my mama,” Pookie snapped. “Like he’s so righteous…”
“He’s not perfect…”
“That don’t begin to cover it,” Pookie said with a grunt. “But you didn’t come here for no family discussion.” He walked back around the desk and sat down again. “Well?”
LaMar sat down in a chair facing his cousin. “There was a fire in Belle Rose, a dance hall.”
“What’s that got to do with me?” Pookie picked up a can of beer with one hand and tossed some peanuts into his mouth with the other.
“Nothing. Except maybe a couple of your freelancers might know something about it.” LaMar looked up to find the blonde at his shoulder. He accepted a can of beer from her before she wiggled out again.
Pookie wore a guarded look. “Nah, I doubt it. You workin’ for the cops on this one?”
LaMar shook his head slowly. “I only work for private citizens, you know that. Lady that owns it is under suspicion.”
“Explain to me why I should care.” Pookie munched on another handful of nuts.
“These freelancers, a couple of not too bright guys, could be planning something that will harm your business interests.” LaMar saw a slight change in his cousin; so slight that those less observant and cautious would miss it.
A light flickered on in Pookie’s amber eyes, though he continued to seem at ease. “One thing, you ain’t never dumped crap on me. A lame lecture now and then, but you all right, so tell me ‘bout it.”
Chapter 18
Simon sat in his Ford Explorer, feeling impatient. What was taking Marius so long? He drummed his fingertips along the rim of the steering wheel. A glance at the LED clock on his dashboard told him he’d been waiting over an hour. Maybe he’s settled in for the night. I’ll wait another thirty minutes or so.
Relaxing into the seat, Simon stretched out his legs. In the darkness surrounding him, the rest of the apartment complex was relatively quiet. He was grateful for the occasional breeze that brushed his cheek through the lowered window. Birdsong trilled from the trees to his right. It conjured up the image of him lying next to Rae in her bed, listening to the night sounds through her window. Heat spread through him; a heat not caused by the seventy-five degree summer air.
Yet the sweet memory was tinged with guilt. Despite all his high-sounding words about not being a snob, Simon realized that he’d let years of upbringing influence him. It was painful to admit that he had been raised to set himself and his family apart. The St. Cyrs and Joves were among a group of old families, descendants of the Creoles of color with roots in Africa, Spain and France. They considered themselves a culture apart. He’d grown up in a world where last names and bloodlines were important. His friends in school had all been from those families.
Even worse, the elitist mindset was more ingrained than he’d suspected. Shameful but true, his first thoughts had been how his grandfather and Mr. Henry were right all along about ‘those people.’ Then he remembered an unconscious slip of the tongue by Toya that Marius somehow had knowledge of the fire. That caused Simon to wonder. He knew all too well that Marius had a dark side.
Simon had seen Marius bailed out of the kind of trouble that led other young black men into the justice system. But he was a Jove. Prominent black judges and even the local assistant district attorneys were Creoles. Mr. Henry always dismissed his grandson’s troubles as lack of judgment. Simon shook his head. What an understatement!
His thoughts drifted back to Rae. Maybe their breakup had been inevitable. She might even be better off without him. Who could tell when his prejudice would pop out like an unwelcome genie from a bottle? But Simon would never be able to forget how good she felt. He could almost smell the lush fragrance of her body, wet with perspiration from making love. The burning inside his stomach became a sharp ache. That intoxicating scent was now lost to him.
A movement to his right made Simon snap to attention. “At last,” he muttered to himself.
Marius, dressed in dark jeans and a dark blue, short-sleeved shirt, bounded down the steps from his second-floor townhouse. A beeping sound signaled the disarming of his car alarm. Simon waited until the black Maxima turned onto the street before starting his engine. Marius led him down the highway toward the dance hall.
Simon wondered if Rae would be there alone. He would wring the little punk’s neck if he… But no, they kept going on for another fifteen miles until they reached the small community of LaLonde. Fortunately, there were plenty of other cars on the highway; even a couple of trucks similar to the one Simon drove.
Marius did not appear to be the least bit concerned that he was being followed. The sporty car turned down a bumpy road, leading to a poor neighborhood. Shotgun houses with sagging porches, which all looked alike, lined both sides of the streets. Men and women sat outside, trying to beat the heat that held on, even at ten o’clock. Loud music blared. Simon followed Marius to a rundown garage in a seedy, pitiful-looking, ghetto business district of sorts. The garage was at the end of a street that also had a tiny grocery store and a few other storefronts.
Parking along the street about three blocks away, Simon got out of his vehicle and walked down a broken sidewalk. He slipped into an alley on one side of the garage. Music thumped through the wall and light spilled onto the littered ground from a dirty window. Careful to crouch down, Simon risked a quick peek inside. Marius was sat on the hood of an old car in one corner while two guys in grimy overalls took apart a white Cadillac several feet away. Two other cars were lined up.
Who are those characters? Is Marius involved with stolen cars? This is no good. I’ve got to get closer.
Simon walked down the alley and froze when his foot banged against an old, aluminum garbage can. When no one came out to investigate, he continued around the back of the garage. The rear entrance was closed, luckily for him. He crept along the wall, hoping to get near a window to hear the conversation between Marius and the two men. Soon he was able to hear voices, although he couldn’t see what was going on inside.
“Look man, I told you we gonna take care of it.” Sly-Man sucked in smoke from a cigarette and let out a long stream of it in the air above his head.
“How? I don’t want another screw up.” Marius looked at the two men with skepticism.
Tyrone grinned foolishly. “You don’t need to know, awright? Let’s just say new evidence gonna show up.”
“No good. The cops went over her place with tweezers. You two are pathetic.” Marius glared at them. “You won’t stop until we’re all in jail.”
“What, you think I’m a fool?” Tyrone hunched his shoulders.
“No comment,” Marius retorted.
Sly-Man stepped between them to block his offended partner. “Hey, cut it out. Look, we gonna put it on her property and have some pals of ours find it. Being good citizens, they gonna make sure the sheriff gets it.”
“That’s your plan? Like I said, pathetic!” Marius gave a snort of contempt.
Sly-Man did not seem the least bit upset. “Well this s
tuff belonged to her; we borrowed it to do the job. They’ll be able to trace it back to where she bought the wires, turpentine and stuff.”
Marius looked interested for the first time. “I don’t get it.”
“She did a few things around the place herself. I’m sure the dude down at the hardware store will remember her. She’s a fine woman.” Sly-Man chuckled.
“Wish I coulda caught her out there one night by herself. Maybe later.” Tyrone gave a coarse laugh.
Sly-Man joined in. “Yeah, get me some of that.”
Simon saw red. It took all his self-control not to shout out a string of curses. He wanted to pound them into the dirt. Instead he let out a long, slow breath. With a great struggle, he pushed down the urge to lash out.
“Yes, she’ll have a tough time talking her way out of that,” Marius said. “Maybe I was wrong about you guys after all. Yeah, sounds like a winner to me. So you think a little booty action with the lady would be nice, eh?” He joined the two men in raucous laughter.
Simon was inching closer to look inside the garage when he heard a thump. A dark shadow took shape as it advanced straight toward him. Simon backed up and hid behind a rusty oil barrel. The bulky figure stepped over some debris without making noise. The man held a gun.
Simon looked around for some way to escape. An old mattress leaned against the wall. He wondered if he could cause a diversion by shoving it forward while running in the opposite direction. He could dash down the alley and hope that the distraction threw off the man’s aim. As the man crept closer, Simon had to make a quick decision. He braced himself against the wall and waited until he could hear breathing. Then he shot up, putting all his weight behind a shove.
“What the hell?” a heavy voice shouted.
The man’s beefy arm struck out at his phantom attacker. Old hubcaps and other trash made a tremendous clatter as he stumbled about. Simon took a hard blow to the side of his head, which made him dizzy. As the huge man pushed forward, Simon scrambled back to avoid being pinned down. He leaped over a pile of garbage and sprinted down the alley.
“I got him!” Tyrone ran out to join the other man. Seconds later he landed on his back when Simon hit him at full speed. Still he managed to fire a gun he held.
Simon felt a hard slap on his left arm, followed by a spreading warmth. He ran only a few steps more before a punch came down on his neck. Simon dropped to his knees.
“Drag his ass in here. Let’s see what we got,” Sly-Man barked.
“Whoever you is, you in a lotta trouble,” the big man rumbled as he pointed a meaty finger at Simon’s nose.
When the large man dumped Simon on the floor, Tyrone kicked him hard in the shoulder. “That ain’t all I got for you, mother–” He lifted his foot again.
Marius pushed Tyrone away, causing him to lose his balance and fall against a stack of mufflers. “Cut it out, fool! We need to talk to him first,” he yelled.
Tyrone shot him a mean look before heading out of the back door.
“How did you find this place?” Marcus asked in a deadly calm voice.
Sly-Man frowned. You know him? You better tell me somethin’, Marius.”
“That’s the Dalcour woman’s boyfriend. He used to be married to my cousin.” Marius rubbed his jaw with a worried expression. “Wonder if Toya has been talking too much?” He squatted down to peer into Simon’s face. “Is that what happened? You might as well tell me because you won’t leave this place breathing.”
The other man in overalls who had been chopping up cars held up both hands. “Hey, I ain’t in this, man. I didn’t sign up for no killin’. I’m out.” He darted out of the garage and away into the dark before the other men could react.
“Aw damn! What else gonna happen?” Sly-Man paced the floor. “You told us wasn’t nobody else in on this, man! Now we find out your big-mouth cousin been talkin’.”
“Toya’s crazy about this guy. She wouldn’t tell anybody else.” Marius jerked Simon’s head back. “Are you alone?”
“Yes,” Simon said in a voice hoarse with pain. His throat felt parched.
Marius stared at him. “Who else have you told about me?” He punched Simon hard in the jaw when he didn’t respond after a few seconds. “Talk!”
“No one. I followed you only because…” Simon coughed hard. “Toya didn’t say anything except you were sure the fire wasn’t an accident.”
“So you put it together. Smart man. “ Marius pressed his lips together.
“A little thing like the law never stopped you.” Simon did not flinch from the evil look that Marius gave him.
Tryone came back inside. “I didn’t see nobody.”
“You messed up bad, slick.” Sly-Man bared his teeth in an ugly semblance of a smile. “Real bad.”
Tyrone rubbed his hands together nervously. “What we gonna do?”
Minutes ticked by as Marius paced. Simon lay very still on the dirty floor, sweat pouring down his sides.
“Well?” Sly-Man lifted both hands.
The big man in overalls stepped up to Sly-Man. “Just say the word.”
Marius slapped his right fist into his left palm. “I’ve got too much to lose.”
“That guy who got hurt in the fire took a turn for the worse last night.” Sly-Man looked at them all.
“You mean–” Tyrone’s mouth hung open in fear.
“A murder rap if he dies. Hell, it could be attempted murder if he lives,” Sly-Man replied.
Marius stood with his back to them. “Do what you have to.” He strode out of the garage without looking back. Seconds later, they heard his car engine gun as he drove away.
The large man in overalls hefted Simon up onto his feet. Simon swayed; his vision cloudy. He took deep breaths to try to clear his head. The shoes on his feet felt like blocks of concrete weighing him down, so that each step was a trial. After the first few attempts to walk, Simon was dragged to a late-model car, parked on a dark side street, east of the garage.
“Say man, which way is it to the Black Cat Cafe?” a loud, slurred voice shouted to them.
“The opposite direction from where you at now, man. I’d get goin’ thataway if I was you,” the big man rumbled. He turned to block the newcomer’s view of Tyrone and Sly-Man struggling to heave Simon into the car.
LaMar wobbled in front of the man wearing a senseless grin. “I’m ready to p-paartee.” He shuffled his feet.
“You gone be ready for the emergency room if you don’t–”
The big man swung his arm out, but LaMar didn’t back away. “Aw man,” he said. “Can’t we all get along?” LaMar’s foot came up fast twice; the tip of his heavy boot smashing into the big man’s crotch.
“Ye-oow oo-wee!” The big man bent double, his wide face contorted in agony. Knees together, he hobbled in a circle with tears streaming from his eyes. He crumpled to the ground when LaMar punched him in the face.
With Tyrone momentarily distracted, Simon put his head down and rammed into his mid-section as hard as he could. Tyrone flipped over into a ditch beside the street and rolled into a ball, clutching his stomach. The force of the effort brought Simon down beside him. He lay still, pretending to be unconscious.
Sly-Man pointed a gun LaMar. “You gonna die, slick!”
LaMar held up both hands palm out. “You don’t wanna do that. I got back-up. No undercover operation happens without it.”
“Bull. They’d a’ been here by now. You ain’t no cop.” Sly-Man wore a wolf-like expression as he took one step closer.
As they talked, Simon crawled back up to crouch a few feet behind Sly-Man. He steeled himself against the pain and ran into his back with a loud growl. In the split second that Sly-Man looked away, LaMar took a dive and flattened himself on the ground. Simon grew strength at the thought that this man wanted to harm Rae. He and the thug grappled with the gun. Their grunts and panting were the only sounds for several seconds.
Then a deep voice called out. “Say, Sly, whassup?”
> Pookie stepped from the shadows with four other men behind him. They stood several yards away. Both men froze and stared at the newcomers.
Sly-Man looked baffled. “Pookie, man, what you doin’ here?” He let go of Simon, looking at him as though he’d been holding a poisonous snake. “You with Pookie?”
“We ain’t stupid,” Simon said, doing his best imitation of the gang members he’d watched in the movie Boys from the Hood. But he could feel the little energy he had left draining away.
“Aw, damn!” Sly-Man had the look of a deer caught in the headlights of an eighteen wheeler.
“I’m here to get my merchandise, Sly. You know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”
“I just had me some delays. I got the money, man. And the shipment.” Sly-man’s eyes were wide. “First I got to–”
“Nah, we gonna do our deal now. No more waitin’.” Pookie spoke in a calm tone that was loaded with danger.
LaMar stood up slowly. “He doesn’t know… yet. Give it up and you live,” he whispered.
“What you sayin’?” Sly-Man mumbled. He darted a fearful glance over his shoulder.
LaMar made sure Pookie and his boys had not moved any closer. “I haven’t told my cousin how you’ve been skimming extra profit for yourself,” he said in a low voice.
Sly-Man gaped at him.Large drops of sweat dripped down his face.
“We ain’t gonna hang out here all night.” Pookie started toward Sly-Man.
“He just got a little sidetracked,” LaMar called out. “But he’s straight now. Ain’t that right?” He looked at Sly-Man.
“Pookie, man, you know me.” Sly-Man’s voice was strained.
“I’ll do what I have to.” LaMar had a look of cold, hard steel. “Me and my pal are leaving. Handle your business.”
Sly-Man opened his mouth to protest.
“Naw, cuz. Sly-Man ain’t got time to fight you. He’s gotta take me to my merchandise and my money. Right?” Pookie stopped four feet from Sly-man.
“I, uh…” Sly-Man looked around, as though seeking some means of escape.