Between Friends

by D. L. Sparks

  We stepped up onto the porch and Michaels hit the door three times, hard, with his fist, causing the dogs to go crazy. A moment later they stopped. I gave a nod and everyone drew guns; Lenny and the two other agents ran around back.

  “We got movement,” someone yelled from the back of the house.

  I began banging on the front door. “Open up! DEA! Search warrant!”

  “Front window,” Michaels yelled.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the curtains flutter.

  I gave Michaels a nod. “Take it.”

  I stepped to the side and he took a step back; with one kick he busted the door off the hinges. We bolted toward the back, with adrenaline on high, guns drawn. I could hear them yelling instructions in the back of the house.

  “Get down! Get down!”

  We ran up just as Lenny was putting a knee in Darius’s back. He had a makeshift tourniquet around his left thigh. Judging from the ratty condition of the bandage, I could tell it definitely wasn’t done at a hospital.

  I holstered my gun. “What’s up, Darius? I’ve been looking for you.”

  He twisted his body to look up at me from the floor. “Man, why you looking for me?”

  Lenny finished cuffing him and got up off his back. I stepped in and pulled him up off the floor. He cried out in pain, but I didn’t give a damn. He needed to be glad I didn’t kick him in his leg for what had happened to Phil.

  “You know damn well why.” I slammed him against the wall, causing the dishes in the china cabinet to rattle. “Who shot my fucking partner?”

  “Man! Watch out!” he said, trying to wrestle away. “Dude shot me too!”

  I reached for my .9 mm. “If you don’t start talking, I’ma shoot you in your other leg!”

  Lenny’s voice came from behind me. “Trip, let him go.”

  I ignored Lenny and kept talking to Darius. “I can have a bullet in your other leg before he can get over here to stop me. I suggest you start talking.”

  “Look, man, all I know is that shit went south fast. I called and told Phil I had a meet set up with Twist and that dude Geech y’all been looking for, but he had to move quick ’cause shit was going down right then. It was on from that point.”

  “What happened?”

  “Yo, dude just started freaking out soon as we got there. Talkin’ ’bout Twist set him up and shit.”

  “And,” I pressured.

  “And next thing I know, bullets is flying and I’m hit in the leg.”

  “So just like that, he started blazing?”

  He squirmed against the cuffs. “Look, all I know is Phil set dude off and that’s when the shooting started.”

  “Fuck you mean he set him off?” I asked.

  “Yo, just what I said.”

  “You think dude knew Phil was heat?”

  “Look, man, I don’t know if he knew who he was employed with or not, but he definitely didn’t like Phil’s ass.”

  I took a step back and examined Darius’s face for anything that would justify me hitting him in the throat before I turned and headed to the front door.

  “Man, take his ass to Grady to get his leg looked at, then lock his dumb ass up,” I said.

  He called out, “Lock me up! For what? What I do?”

  “I don’t like you,” I called back.

  “Come on, man! What if he comes looking for me?”

  “Not my problem.”

  I kept walking.

  Back downtown, I sat in a conference room alone, going through the files for what seemed like the hundredth time. The fact that Darius said dude was set off by Phil was really bothering me because that meant this shit just got more complicated than any of us could imagine. The fact that the original undercover was buried wasn’t helping the situation either.

  About an hour later, I got a call telling me that Darius was admitted to Grady. I made sure there were cops posted outside his door. I also told them that when he was released to the jail infirmary, they had to keep an eye on him.

  “He gonna need surgery?” I asked Lenny.

  “Nah, bullet grazed his thigh. Took out a nice chuck of meat, but he’ll be fine.”

  “Lenny, if he’s right and this dude knew Phil, we got problems.”

  “Yeah, I know. There’s no telling how many other agents have been exposed.”

  “We need to try to get an ID from Darius. The sooner we make a bust and plug this hole, the better.”

  “Trip, I know how bad you want this guy, but I need you to be careful. Take one of the other agents with you.”

  “I don’t need a partner, Lenny. I have one.”

  He knew better than to argue with me about my partnership with Phil, so he just let my comment go.

  “I’m sending a sketch artist down to the hospital to see what Darius can come up with,” I continued.

  “Okay. I’ll keep you posted,” he said.

  I disconnected the call and tossed my BlackBerry onto the table.

  “Sketch artist?”

  I turned around and saw Lincoln standing behind me. I turned back around and kept looking over my case notes. “What do you want, Briscoe?”

  He took a seat at the table across from me. “What you need a sketch artist for? Your cocky ass havin’ a self-portrait done?”

  “Yeah, figured I’d have one done up for you. ’Cause the way you keep popping up, I’m starting to think you got a crush on me.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, a’ight. So you got somebody who thinks they can finger the shooter.”

  I frowned up at him. “Man, why are you still talking to me?”

  He shifted on the chair and leaned forward. A slick grin spread across his face. “It’s just you and me up in here.” He looked toward the door then back to me. “Why don’t we stop playin’ and put this shit out on the table.”

  I leaned back, giving him my attention. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Playa, your problem with me isn’t professional. Your problem with me is the fact that I’m layin’ pipe—on a regular basis, I might add—to the woman you been in love with since grade school.”

  I let out a laugh. “That’s the best you could come up with? Get the fuck out my face with that shit.”

  “You and your obsession with my fiancée is gettin’ old; and truth be told, it’s about to get you fucked up, pot’na.”

  “And your fucked-up attitude toward her is getting old, and that’s about to get you fucked up, again,” I said, looking up at him.

  He flexed his jaw. “There you go worryin’ about shit that ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.”

  “Yeah, and if that were true, she wouldn’t keep calling me and you wouldn’t be sitting here getting on my gotdamn nerves.”

  I watched as he leaned back from the table. “Stay away from Idalis playa, or a dying pot’na is gon’ be the least of your problems.”

  I stood up. “My partner isn’t dying, and if you mention him to me again”—I shoved my phone in its holder—“being Idalis’s consolation prize is going to be the least of your problems.”

  He let out a short laugh. “Just admit it. You never got over the fact that she gave me that ass and not you. You been walkin’ around with this bullshit since college.”

  “Man, would you please go do some cop work?” I slammed the folder closed. “I don’t have time to sit around playing Dr. Phil to your insecure ass.”

  He stood up, and the hairs on the back of my neck jumped to attention. I kept gathering the paperwork, keeping him in my peripheral. As bad as I wanted to hit him, I wanted to get whoever had put my partner in the hospital even more. I believed Lenny when he said he’d toss me off this case if I couldn’t handle myself with Linc.

  I glanced at him. “This conversation is over.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Positive.”

  “Nah pot’na this conversation hasn’t even started yet,” he started. “I got a feeling you think because you tucked behind that agency badge that I won�
�t reach out and touch your punk ass.”

  Slowly I reached down to my hip, pulled my gold DEA badge and credentials off my hip and tossed them on the table followed by my P226.9 mm.

  “What’s up?” I taunted. “But remember, ain’t nobody here to pull me off you this time.”

  He glared at me for a moment before heading to the door. I could tell by his body language that he wasn’t really trying to end this, at least not this way.

  “Oh, and, Briscoe,” I called out to him.

  He stopped in the doorway. “Fuck you want?”

  “If you put your hands on Idalis again,” I glanced up at him. “I’ma shoot you myself.”

  He gave me a sly grin. “Game on muthafucka.”

  “What’s the supposed to mean?”

  “I know you not worried Supercop,” he said, walking away. “This is far from over, believe that.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Idalis

  “I understand the policy and I will try to make it there on Monday.”

  I tossed my cell onto the passenger seat and sped around I-285 toward Langford Parkway. I was looking forward to going back to work. I loved my son, but I needed some adult interaction. Hell, who was I kidding? I needed a drink.

  The past couple weeks had definitely taken its toll on me. With my grandmother’s passing and Lincoln flipping out, I managed to miss the final fitting for my gown and still owed them my last payment. And now that same cheerful seamstress, who had been so anxious to help me before, currently saw me as a deadbeat bride who didn’t pay her bills. It wasn’t that I didn’t have the money; I just couldn’t bring myself to look at that gown—let alone, put it on and continue with the lie I’d created. It had become exhausting, and it was costing me more than just the four grand I’d put up for that damn dress.

  There was a line snaking its way out the door, and the young guys working valet were scrambling around, trying to maintain order in the parking lot. I had them put my car off to the side, instead of the usual spot right up front. I didn’t want and unwanted dents from people stumbling in and out of the club.

  Once inside the club I absorbed the energy coming from the crowd. I needed all the help I could get tonight. I stopped and spoke to a few people who wanted to offer condolences for my grandmother then pressed my way deeper inside forcing smiles for some pictures for a couple local magazines and websites before I headed to the bathroom.

  I wiggled through the crowd to try to wash my hands. I couldn’t help but laugh to myself at the females gathered around the tiny sink applying an extra layer of gloss to already shiny lips or finger combing freshly woven hair. Everyone was putting on her best face in hopes of snagging that special someone.

  On my way to check the bartenders, I made my way past the DJ booth. Raymond looked up when I made my way by and gave me a wink, causing an involuntary smile to spread across my face. I waved and winked in return.

  “Good to have you back,” Dionne said, smiling.

  I smiled, leaning against the bar. “Thank you so much for holding it down while I was out.” I looked around. “It’s packed in here.”

  “I know. I’m glad too. I couldn’t take another Saturday night like the last one. It was so slow; Raymond’s tip out was horrible last weekend.”

  “Wow.”

  “And you know he wasn’t happy.”

  I laughed. “I know he wasn’t.”

  She nodded over her shoulder. “Your friend is waiting for you.”

  I stood on tiptoes and looked in the direction she’d just nodded. I laughed when I saw Mr. Lewis sitting in the corner. When he saw me, his face lit up with his somewhat toothless smile.

  “He’s been so lost without you.”

  “Aw, really? Nobody took care of him?”

  She laughed and shook her head. “He didn’t want anyone else. He kept coming to the bar for his drinks. He didn’t want anyone serving him.” She reached under the counter. “He left you this, though.”

  I took the envelope she held out and opened it. There was a twenty-dollar bill inside. “Oh my goodness. He’s so sweet.”

  “If you say so.” She turned and headed to a crowd that was forming on the other end of the bar. “He creeps me out.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at that.

  After hugging and thanking Mr. Lewis, I made my rounds and checked on the bartenders and servers. I ended up helping one server with a birthday party, which was a good thing. I figured the busier I was the less time I had to think about what was or wasn’t going on in my life at this point.

  I dropped Cameron off with India on my way in to the club and checked on my mother. India didn’t have much to say to me, and I wasn’t exactly bursting at the seams to talk to her either. So we avoided each other the whole time I was in the house. I knew there was nothing she wouldn’t do for Cameron so I knew there was no issue with me leaving him with her.

  I was standing near the bar, talking to Si-Man, who was waiting for a radio commercial break to be over, when Dionne came up behind me and whispered in my ear.

  “You got a visitor at the bar.”

  I turned around and checked the bar. From what I could see, the same people who were there a few moments ago were still there.

  “Who? I don’t see anybody.”

  She looked toward the bottom level bar. “Not this one, down there.”

  I looked and spotted him immediately. He was wearing all black, locs pulled back in a ponytail and his beard and goatee freshly shaped-up. Some random chick had already zoned in on him. I could tell from the look on his face that he wasn’t interested in hearing what she had to say. And I really couldn’t blame him. She had on a pair of too-tight jeans, and her stomach was spilling over the waistband. Her spiked blond hairstyle stood up on her tiny head, making it worse.

  I stood there for a moment and contemplated making him suffer through the rest of the conversation.

  Dionne nudged me with her shoulder. “Girl, you better go get his fine ass.”

  I rolled my eyes and made my way down the steps in his direction.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, walking up on him.

  “Heard about this spot, and wanted to come check it out.”

  I leaned against the bar. “You don’t strike me as the clubbing type.”

  He took a sip of the Corona he was holding. “I haven’t heard from you. I wanted to check on you.”

  “Got a lot going on.”

  “I know. I haven’t seen you since—”

  I cut him off, “Yeah, I know.”

  I grabbed his arm and pulled him outside. I didn’t need everyone in the club knowing my business. As friendly as they were, I knew they wouldn’t hesitate to stand around being nosy, snap a picture and toss me up on some gossip blog the first chance they got.

  The humid night clung to my skin and hair as I leaned against the railing, and he stood in front of me.

  “I’m sorry about asking you not to come to my grandmother’s funeral,” I said.

  “I understand. I know where you were coming from. But I have a confession.”

  “What’s that?”

  He smiled. “I was there.”

  I let out a laugh. “Where? I didn’t see you.”

  “I’m a DEA agent. Hiding from you really isn’t that hard.” He laughed. “I had to pay my respects to your grandmother. She damn near raised me.”

  I nodded; then I looked out into the parking lot and finally fixed my eyes back on his.

  “Being with you, spending time with you, has been nice, but ...”

  “But what?” he asked.

  “We can’t go back. Too much has happened.”

  “I’m not asking you to go back, Idalis, but we can’t keep playing this push-and-pull game. Either we’re friends, or we’re not.”

  I rubbed my forehead. “Now you sound like India.”

  “Sounds like she knows what she’s talking about.”

  I rolled my eyes, then stared off into the adj
acent patch of woods next to the club.

  “Look, all I’m asking you to do is snap out of whatever trance Lincoln’s got you in and see him for what he is. You deserve better, and you know it.”

  “I guess better would be you?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Exactly. I see your mouth moving, but you’re not saying anything.”

  “Neither are you,” he shot back.

  The door to the club opened and a gush of cold air blew out along with small crowd of partygoers who were stumbling their way to the valet. One girl was clearly drunk and carrying one of her shoes in her hand. Her dress was barely securing her huge breasts, which were fighting against the thin material to get out. She limped around, giggling, as her friends held her up and tried to help her maintain some of her dignity.

  “Ooh! He’s fine!” she slurred, pointing at Trip. “Look at his eyes.”

  Her crowd of friends erupted in laughter. “Come on, Tiana, you so crazy!”

  I grabbed the handle of the door before it closed.

  “Look, I need to get back inside.”

  He held up his hands in defeat. “Fair enough. But would you please just think about what you’re doing?”

  “Good night, Trip.”

  I snatched the door open and made my way through the crowd. I did my best to hold back the tears until I made it to the bathroom stall.

  I pushed the door closed and grabbed a wad of tissue from the roll of toilet paper. A few moments later I heard a bunch of “oohs and aahs” coming from the other side of the door.

  “Damn! Who is you?” one woman asked.

  “Hey, sexy, you looking for me?” another drunken voice asked.

  At first the comments didn’t register, and then it dawned on me what was going on.

  Trip’s voice made me cringe. “Idalis!” He knocked on the door to the stall.

  “Oh my goodness. Are you kidding me? Get out of here!”

  “I’m not leaving until you come out and talk to me.”

  A slurred voice chimed in. “Yeah, girrrrl. Come out here and talk to his fine ass.”

  I turned the lock and pushed the door open. The sight of him standing in the ladies’ room was both comical and pitiful, all at the same time.