by Emery, Lynn
“Good for you,” Gracie said. “Besides, don't rule out being a big wheel in the television business. You got the right stuff.”
Anthony placed a hand on her knee. “Look at what you were able to do for the public housing tenants.”
“I'd still like to get my hands on whoever stole my notes,” Michelle said. “That was my favorite purple folder,” she pouted.
Anthony glanced at her sharply. “Did you say purple?”
“Yeah, it had deep pockets that held plenty of papers. And it was easy to spot in that landfill I called a desk,” Michelle grinned. “Why?”
“Nothing.” Anthony grew quiet and thoughtful.
“Well, that little plan backfired. Channel Six jumped on the trail you uncovered and dug up as much dirt as you did.” Gracie took a healthy swig from her glass.
“Yeah, that bee hive is still buzzing from the lick you landed on it. Word is things are very uncomfortable for Lonnie Mason right about now.” Earl grabbed a handful of peanuts.
“Speaking of which, what did you find out?” Michelle sat forward.
Earl wiped his hands on a napkin and swallowed hard. He reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a worn note pad. “Lemme see... here it is. Lonnie's old classmate from Angola State Penitentiary, Jeron “Sweet” Glasper, is serving twenty years for armed robbery. He was a member of the Park Boulevard Posse before he got sent away. Lonnie was released on good time and got a job with the Authority through that prison outreach program.”
“Ike is on the board of this non-profit agency to help `re-integrate ex-offenders back into the community. ’Marcus met Lonnie when he started working there. Lonnie hooked him up with Tia Sanders,” Michelle explained to Gracie.
Earl nodded. “Right. Now guess who Troy Quarles used to hang with when he was a young drug dealer in training?”
Michelle snapped her fingers. “Jeron Glasper.”
“Right again.” Earl pointed an index finger at her. “There's the connection to Lonnie. Troy was probably ripping off some of the product for his own business on the side. But Troy also had a coke habit. Seems he started sampling the product within the last year and as we all know, a coke habit is very expensive.”
“Great work, Earl.” Michelle clapped his shoulder. “What else? You said something on the phone about how we can connect with the police to be sure they take us seriously.”
Earl hesitated, tapping one foot, then cleared his throat. “Um-humph, I took the liberty of inviting Detective Majors over here.”
Michelle jumped up. “You did what? Earl has lost his mind! Have you lost your mind?”
Earl flinched back into the cushion of the loveseat. “Hey, he went to school with my older brother. He's an okay dude.”
Michelle huffed for a few moments. “That okay dude tried to charge Anthony with murder.”
“Calm down. The man is just doing his job.” Earl held up both hands to ward off her wrath.
Anthony stood to put a hand on her arm. “He's right, Michelle. Majors only questioned me based on what he had to go on. With the link to me and a tip that I was doing business with Troy, he had to talk to Cedric and me.”
The door bell caused them all to start. Michelle eyed Earl. “You better be right, Earl Elvis Gaines.” She stomped to the door.
“Elvis? No wonder you refused to tell anybody your middle name! Wait until I get back to the station,” Gracie hooted.
Earl blew air through flaring nostrils. “Thanks a lot, Toussaint. Mouth of the south here is going to tell the whole world.”
Michelle threw him a look devoid of sympathy. “Serves you right.” She jerked the door open.
“Good evening, ma'am. Is Earl Gaines here?” The burly detective dipped his head a little at Michelle.
Earl went around her and stuck his hand out. “Detective, come on in.”
Michelle raked the detective with a critical gaze as he passed. He entered without appearing to notice her hostility. Majors seemed vigilant yet at ease at the same time. He stood just outside the enclosure created by the living room sofa, chair, and loveseat. “Evening, Mr. Hilliard. Ma'am.” He acknowledged Gracie.
Earl bounced on the balls of his feet.”You want something, Detective Majors?” He approached the counter where Michelle had left large bottles of cola.
Michelle glanced at Earl sideways. “I'll get it.”
“No thanks,” Majors said in clipped tone. “You have information regarding the Troy Quarles murder?” He looked at each of them in turn.
Earl fumbled for his note pad again. “Lonnie Mason was in prison with a guy named Jeron ‘Sweet’ Glasper; a member of the Park Boulevard Posse.”
Detective Majors crossed his arms over his immense chest. “Who got him in the outreach program. He got a job with the Housing Authority which is where he met Tia Sanders and Troy Quarles. We know all that. Contrary to what you see on TV, we aren't dumbbells who can't see a clue unless some clever amateur detective points to it.”
Michelle faced him with a grimace. “Then why haven't you dragged them in for questioning,” she exclaimed.
Majors turned to her. “Because it isn't enough. Quarles knew lots of people with criminal records.”
“But you have to admit, it's a connection to known drug dealers,” Michelle broke in. “Anthony has no criminal record and no other connection to drug trafficking.”
Majors studied Anthony for a long moment. “True enough. All I can tell you is that we're keeping all avenues open. We're following up on a couple of interesting leads.”
“What does that mean? Anthony is walking around under a cloud of suspicion. You should make it known if he isn't the main suspect anymore.” Michelle stabbed a finger at him.
Anthony gazed at Majors with a thoughtful expression.” Chelle, be cool.”
“But, Anthony, he--”
Earl picked up Anthony's cue. “Yeah, Michelle. The man's got a job to do. Thanks for everything, brother. Take it slow.” He tapped fists with Majors.
Anthony did the same. “See you, Detective.”
Michelle and Gracie watched their exchange with puzzled faces. They looked at each other and then at the three men. Majors turned around before leaving. His granite face transformed when he gave Earl a small smile.
“Tell that brother of yours he owes me a re-match on the court. And I'm going to whip his butt next time.” He waved goodbye.
Michelle stood with both hands on her hips. “What was that all about?”
Earl looked at Anthony who lifted a shoulder.
“Don't tell me it’s some kind of `man thing' we women wouldn't understand,” Michelle retorted.
Anthony shook his head slowly. “No, baby. The man can't tell us certain things. He's looking to nail Lonnie and his pals, including the Park Boulevard Posse.”
“He's on their trail all right. The police want to keep them guessing. You know, psych them out,” Earl added. “It's a mind game. They're going to be on edge. Criminals are naturally suspicious. Pretty soon, they're going to be wondering about each other.”
“Which means turning on each other.”Anthony sat down on the sofa again.
“Which means somebody is either going to talk or make a stupid mistake.” Earl slapped hands with Anthony before sitting on the loveseat. “Somebody is going down real soon, man.”
“Sounds like it.” Anthony crossed one ankle on his knee.
“Unbelievable.” Gracie fell into the chair next to the sofa.
Michelle threw up both hands. “You mean to tell me you got all that from `We're keeping all avenues open'?” She imitated the detective's basso voice.
Gracie blinked in confusion. “Where was I when all this information came out?”
Earl laughed. “Ladies, the man already knows about the connection between Troy, Lonnie, and the gang. He told us that.”
Anthony nodded in agreement. “They've got the resources to track down those bums no matter where they hide.”
“Anthony, you reali
ze this might be bad for your Uncle Ike,” Michelle said in a somber voice.
Anthony took a deep breath. “I know.”
Michelle sat next Anthony. “I'm sorry, honey. I wish I could have been wrong about Ike.” She worked her fingers through the tight fist of his right hand. The tension dissolved at her touch.
“Thanks, babe.” Anthony kissed her hand.
“I hope all this is over soon.” Michelle gazed at him. She wanted him out of danger more than anything in the world.
“I'm afraid there will be more fireworks before that happens,” Anthony said. He wore a dark, dismal frown.
Earl's face became grim. “You're right, my brother. Don't count on those guys going out quietly.”
Michelle felt a chill of fear at the thought of more violence.
***
Michelle bit her lower lip when her mother appeared to answer the door. “Hello, Mama.”
Annette embraced her but let go quickly to lead her inside. “Come on in, sweetie.”
Michelle stood in her parents’ large den for the first time in weeks. Her father, Brian, and Dominic had taken turns urging her to see Annette. Now she was here, and had no idea what to do or say. Her stomach churned with anxiety, guilt, and a tinge of anger still.
Annette fussed about getting coffee. “I fixed cafe au lait for you, baby. And voila.” She presented a dessert plate with a flourish. “Beignets, made from Monmon Chenevert's famous recipe.”
Michelle managed a thin smile. “That's nice. ”She took off her light jacket and hung it in the small closet.
“Your show on the radio is the talk of the town, honey. I've listened to it every week since it started.” Annette handed her a cup. She placed two beignets on a saucer putting them on the coffee table in front of Michelle.
“I'm glad you like it.” Michelle took a small sip of the hot, smooth liquid. “So how are you?”
“Oh, fine. And you?” Annette wore an eager to please expression. “I love that color on you. You always look so pretty in that shade of green.” She patted the deep emerald silk shirt Michelle wore.
“Thanks.” Michelle looked around the room to avoid meeting her mother's anxious gaze. “You've changed the furniture around. I like it.”
“Thank you, dear.”
“Gives the room a more open look.”
Annette put her cup down. “The only harmless small talk left is the weather, but then we'd be right back where we started. You have a right to be angry with me, Michelle. I've been a selfish, silly fool. Right?”
“Mama...” Michelle started but could not go on.
Annette wore a sad smile. “I know, you're too respectful to agree. Can I at least try to explain?” At Michelle's nod, she continued. “Thomas was always the serious type when we were in high school. I guess it was because he had to work to help his father support the family. I didn't have to do anything like that you know. Even back then Ike was a fast talking go-getter. While Thomas put his money in the bank, Ike bought flashy clothes and a car. Ike ran with the ‘in crowd’ and I found that exciting. To make a long story short, Ike and I had an affair. When I caught him with another girl, we broke up. I started dating Tommy, mostly to rub Ike's nose in the fact that I could get someone else. But Tommy was so good to me; better than any boy had been. I really began to admire him. We got married. After a few years Tommy seemed more interested in working than spending time with me. We argued a lot and, well you know the rest.”
Michelle's jaw tightened. “But why did you do it, Mama?”
Annette gazed at her with moist eyes full of misery.” Loneliness, vanity, I don't know. When Tommy found out it was horrible. He looked at me with such disgust,” she said, her voice choked with grief. “I swear, it never happened again. But Tommy couldn't forgive or forget what I'd done. We stayed together for a lot of reasons, none of them good. He never forgave me for the affair. I struck back by telling him it was his fault.”
Michelle looked at her mother in a whole new light. What she saw was a vulnerable, sensitive woman who had made a terrible mistake. Annette was no saint, but neither did she deserve to be treated with contempt. Michelle put a hand on her shoulder. “Have you ever tried talking about it without accusing each other?”
“No,” Annette said in a quiet voice full of anguish.
“Then maybe that's where you should start. Daddy may want to hear you say how much you love him before he trusts opening his heart to you again.”
Annette wiped her eyes dry. “After the affair, I realized Tommy is twice the man Ike could ever hope to be. But by then, I'd lost him.”
“I don't think you lost him, Mama.” Michelle embraced her mother.
“Maybe we'll find a way back to each other after all this time.”Annette clutched Michelle's hand. “But can you forgive me? I can't stand the thought of losing you, baby. I love you so much.
Michelle tasty salty tears flowing down her cheeks. “I love you too, Mama. I love you, too.” She went into her mother's open arms.
They talked for hours. For the first time, they spoke openly of their true feelings. Annette shared the pain of her mistakes with Michelle. Michelle confessed her childhood fears of losing both her parents and the agony of watching them hurt each other. Both felt strengthened knowing they could lean on each other as they sought to mend old wounds.
***
The shabby hotel formed a square U-shape with faded orange doors facing inside around the parking lot. The office sat at the end of one arm with four parking spaces in front of a dirty plate glass window. Charlotte wrinkled her nose in distaste as she eased her car past it to park in front of room 313.
As she walked to the room, the heel of her expensive alligator pump twisted in the cracked cement.”Dammit!” Charlotte examined the torn leather with a scowl.
She knocked twice then three times spaced apart. The curtains twitched slightly. The rattle of locks being released followed several seconds later.
“Hurry up and come in.” Bridges stayed out of sight behind the door. He snapped the door shut almost catching the hem of her skirt.
Charlotte sucked air through her teeth. “Will you get a hold of yourself? I told you nobody knows you're here. And you certainly could have found a better place to stay. Lafayette has several decent hotels.” She glanced around at the dingy carpet and tacky furniture.
Bridges sat in a faded brown chair next to the bed. “That would be the first place they'd look. Or do you want them to find me?” His eyes narrowed.
Charlotte dropped the irritation from her voice. “Of course not, honey. You know how I feel about you. I guess my nerves are raw with everything happening.” She sat on the bed as close to him as she could. When she reached out to stroke his arm, he moved away.
“Did you bring it?” Bridges got up and began pacing.
Charlotte pulled out a fat envelope and handed it to him. “All of the files showing how Ike cut deals with contractors, invoices that even that reporter didn't get her hands on, the works. This is some pretty damaging evidence against me, too. Are you sure the DA won't come after me?”
Bridges turned his back to pour whiskey into a plastic cup. He downed some of it before facing her again. “Baby, I told you I'd take all the blame. Just stick to the story like we agreed. You trusted me because we had an affair. You had no idea Ike and I were cutting corners.” He walked closer to her. “It won't do your career any good.”
Charlotte leaned back on her arms and kicked off her pumps. “Humph, better to be seen as a gullible, infatuated woman than go to jail.”
Bridges stood over her. “Of course, you were smart enough to help us find ways to beat the system. We could never have done it without having someone on the inside.”
“What can I say? I'm a very enterprising woman. Too bad that smart-aleck reporter had to stick her nose in. We were doing very well.” Charlotte rubbed a sapphire and diamond ring on one hand.
“That deal with those renovated houses especially profitable. We got p
aid twice. Big tax breaks and renting them at a good price to middle-class tenants. You were right about the rules being so loose. Nobody ever verified we rented to poor families.”
Charlotte's mouth twisted into a sneer. “Those dumb bureaucrats didn't even question us about it. That was the best money maker.” Her face softened to a devoted smile. “I helped you then, and I'll help you now, sugar. You can count on me no matter what happens.”
Bridges sat down in the chair again. His face hardened.”What about Lonnie? Don't bother lying, Charlotte. I know about him and your affair with Ike.”
Charlotte massaged his thigh with long fingers. She sat forward to let the neckline of her blouse reveal more cleavage. “Baby, Ike was long before you. And Lonnie means nothing. I just used him to find out what he was up to. He's been out to get you from the beginning. You know that. It's always been you that I wanted.”
“You did it for me then?” Bridges stared at her.
“All for you and me, sweetheart.” Charlotte's voice became husky.
Bridges sat forward just a little. “But weren't you scared? I mean, Lonnie’s a very dangerous man. After all, he murdered that Quarles kid.”
Charlotte got up to get a cigarette from a pack on the dresser. “That's the kind of animal he is, James. What else can you expect from somebody like him? Look how he grew up. In a ratty shotgun shack over on 48th Street,” she snorted.
“So you knew Lonnie Mason was going to kill Quarles?”
“Are you kidding? You know how Lonnie is. All mouth. He told me that and more.” Charlotte blew a plume of smoke at the ceiling. “I could tell you plenty that should help you get an even better plea bargain. You'll probably only get a few months.” She switched on the radio and found a station playing jazzy music. Wetting her plum colored lips, she began to undulate to the beat while undressing. Soon she was down to her bra and panties. “Then it's going to be you and me. Just give me the location of the accounts. With what I've put away and what you have, we should be living in style for years.”