I was what? I was what? I did what?
Even after I told them not to shoot, throwing myself on this woman like she was a fucking live grenade, they did anyway. And when I got hit, they called it self-inflicted and on top of that I was . . .
Not ready to think about that part of the equation yet. Let’s stick with A and B: did the FBI or whoever just shoot me and make it look like I shot myself, and where is Towanna?
“Do you have anything to say, Ms. Roberts?” the nurse asked, raising an eyebrow.
“What hospital is this? Where are Devon and my son?”
“Excuse me, I—”
“It’s a simple question. What hospital am I in?” I shouted.
The chatter stopped. The makeshift curtain flew open. A bear of a man appeared holding a soiled Dunkin’ Donuts coffee cup. I tried to focus and not to stare at the graying box-fade shaped thing growing off his head.
He spoke in a brusque voice. “Okay, Michelle, calm down. I’m Special Agent—”
“About to get fucked up if you don’t tell me that what this nurse just told me is a bunch of bullshit.”
He drew in a long breath. “You were given an order, a directive. You failed and this is your fault, your punishment, your fuckup. I’m Agent Harper.”
“Have you told anyone that I’m here?”
“Not yet, we need you to corroborate the story before we set you out in the world with it. You’re stuck here until you cooperate.”
“And Towanna?”
“She’s being questioned.”
“What if I told you that you have the wrong person? Do you think I’d throw myself in front of a bullet for no damn reason?”
Agents I didn’t even know were out there poked their heads in at that moment. Looking, listening, ready to hear what I had to say. But, not until I knew Towanna was okay.
They brought Towanna in and she nodded, assuring me that she was okay.
“Okay, Michelle. We can’t just have people sitting around without an explanation. This is your show; all eyes are on you right now.”
“Melanie Malia took out five genteel wealthy men, one of whom was none other than Momma White’s baby daddy Ray and, on top of that, she somehow got Devon and Shiree in the process. When Momma White told me the story she said it happened twice. I had to do some research into Lacy’s cases.”
“What are the names of all the husbands, Agent Harper?”
“Renner, Clark, Kellam, Latharium, Ponce, and Harrington.” Agent Harper rattled them off one by one.
“There’s a man in the area by the name of Marcus Latharium Bello; he was good friends with Rasheed, goes by Big Baby. He’s the only Bello I know and Rah told me they grew up together, how Big just showed up one, day no parents, he just appeared. I never thought about the story until now. Mr. Latharium’s son. Momma helped Lacy get rid of him by giving that little boy to the African lady at the shop, kind of a repayment thing. When Lacy picked Ray, Momma refused to do it again.”
A few agents had some light bulbs go off and began writing down what I was saying. Good, because I was starting to get tired.
“He has some massage something or another’s popping up all over the place. Check into him and his stuff he’s probably hiding whatever it is that Lacy used in plain sight.”
There was a rush of excited voices and they exchanged glances.
“I asked to redecorate Devon’s hospital after he checked me in, no thanks to you morons. A nurse had mentioned stuff happening on the 5th wing. Devon checks out. I couldn’t find anything on him. The only thing you’ll find there is that area, his lab, which also houses the electroshock therapy units. Every now and again he has elite and VIPs come and go without check-in or special clearances but that’s expected when they’re high-profile celebrities and don’t want the press finding out about it.
“And, Towanna. I didn’t forget about you. Your momma married three times I think? But remind these good people who she is and who her second husband was.”
“They already know. My mom’s name is Royce; she didn’t know she was pregnant when she did what she did to my dad. Don Cerzulo is my stepfather. May he rest in peace, even though me and him weren’t that close.”
And then a light bulb went off in my head. “So that’s why you’re helping them, because you just tie the whole family together, huh? Then when I came in the picture they were all like find out what I know so that when a time like right the fuck now came they’d have whatever they needed to get me to help fit everybody the hell together.”
“But, Michelle, that’s why nothing really happened and I didn’t even have anybody up in the house to hurt you. Angelo didn’t even come to the house. I’d asked one of the agents to swab Lataya and for whatever reason he did them both. When these dudes killed Ennis . . .”
“He drew a weapon on an armed agent and refused to stand down, ma’am.”
I didn’t see who said it but that explained poor Ennis.
Towanna sneered at one of the men and went on, “I just wanted to know if you knew anything ASAP so I could be done with the shit. So I staged that whole thing to try to make you talk. That’s all, and then you ran all the way out here.”
I was starting to feel weak and nauseated. Connecting all these dots to all these different people was really starting to wear me out. The FBI and CIA had tracked down and traced everyone connected to Lacy in some way, shape, or form. I guess the world really does revolve around money. I still had to know something.
“One last question and then I’m done. The agreement I signed said that I killed Rasheed. What did yours say?”
“That’s classified, Roberts,” several agents blurted out at once.
“It’s okay, Towanna, I already know. It said you killed Lania and Keyshawn, didn’t it?” I asked her anyway despite their warnings.
Towanna looked down at the floor quickly but not before I could see the tears in her eyes, confirming my suspicion.
“That’s enough, Roberts. Conditions of your agreements are confidential and need-to-know only. You are relieved and needed no further.”
“Well, we might as well show our hands then.” I addressed everyone in the room, taking turns looking at them one by one. Some of them looked away, some met my stare with indifference or defiance as I continued, “It doesn’t make any sense acting all shy now. Not when we all know who’s using who. Tell me again, my options were to sign or what? Sink, right?”
Done with my tirade, I was finally feeling winded and my side was aching. I had to get a point across even if they didn’t give a fuck about me making it. They scowled and Towanna stood there clammed up looking pensive and hurt. Drained, I lay my head back, empathizing with the pain I knew she was feeling.
“And for the damn record, my last name is Laurel. I’ve changed it since you don’t seem to get up-to-date information. And, you’re welcome.”
Chapter 30
I Am Relieved
“You sure you wanna do this, Michelle?” Devon whined, looking at me with the stank face.
We were lying in bed enjoying the peace and quiet. Trey wouldn’t be home until Sunday and me and my man had ourselves a date. Devon rolled on his stomach sticking his head under the pillow, ostrich style. I quit fiddling with the button of his pajama top I was wearing and rolled my eyes. Trey might as well have been in the bed with me; the man was acting just like him when he ain’t wanna get up in the morning.
“Boy, stop. It ain’t gonna be that bad.” I smacked his ass.
Biting my nail I grinned at that bad boy as it bounced in the matching bottoms to my top. I was about to reach over and smack it again.
“Stop smackin’ my ass, woman.” His voice was muffled under the pillow.
“Huh? What did you say, baby? I can’t understand you when you’re speaking ostrich,” I teased him.
He threw the pillow and snatched me down in its place and I yelped. Giggling, I stared up and him through my lashes.
“Guess we need to work on that la
nguage barrier then. ’Cause, I can understand yo’ ostrich perfectly fine.” He mocked me, “Harder, baby, get it, get it, choke—”
What in the hell, is that what I sound like? Good Lawd.
Slamming my finger up against his lips I shushed his ass. “What I say or don’t say in the heat of the moment is not to be repeated. Ever. I made a list of stuff you need to get before our date night. So we need to get up.”
There was too much on my to-do list today and ass was not one them. At least not now, definitely after, but now we had shit to do.
“But a double date though?”
“What’s wrong with a double date? It’ll be fun and I like Nurse Denise.”
“How you even know she swing that way? She might just be shy or a late bloomer or something. I know you can’t tell because I’m so ruggedly sexy and shit now, but I too was a late bloomer. You might mess around and have her out there embarrassed and shit.”
Just keep your mouth shut, Chelle. We ain’t even gonna touch this one. We can’t be talking about the same Nurse Denise I got eye-molested by. Her brazen ass. Thick as fawck ain’t a late bloomer, shit if he was Ris. Change the channel, Chelle.
“Look, I think Denise is cute and I also think she and Towanna would make a cute couple. Besides when’s the last time you took me out on a date, Devon?”
“Um. The, uh. We go on dates,” he eventually sputtered.
I gave him the side eye. “The secret agent hotel doesn’t count, bae.”
I’d had lunch with Towanna at least once a week since the night I took a bullet for her. I’d told her that she was gonna have to let me shoot her for GP now. It was only fair. We couldn’t be best friends otherwise. She’d laughed her ass off that day, reminding me that I’d already shot her. Not sure how on earth that little detail had slipped my mind. I never told Devon about losing the baby. There was no point in upsetting him over something he couldn’t have controlled or changed. He would have been hurt for no reason, banning Towanna from our lives when I still would have gotten over it as I did.
The Feds finally caught up with Big Baby. Turned out he did have that concoction that connected Lacy to all five of those deaths. He’d been remaking it up in his shop in Miami. Shiree was taking it the hardest. Devon said she’d actually miscarried not long after finding out Rasheed was her brother and I was hoping my manhandling her ain’t have anything to do with it. He said it was stress related, but on second thought I think she might have gotten rid of the baby all together. She’d only come by the house once and that was to say good-bye. She said she was staying in Miami, and then possibly going to Cali.
Trey didn’t bat an eyelash, pout, or anything when I’d dropped him off at Denise’s nephews on Friday evening. It felt good to have some little boys around his age he could play with. He’d been so excited and it was all he’d talked about all week. I’d never seen that child struggle with anything more than when it came time to figure out which toys he wanted to take. You’d think I’d asked him to only take items that would keep him alive on a deserted island of children.
Mommy was excited too. This was going to be the first night in I couldn’t remember how long that I was going to have a grown-up dinner and dancing date night with no drama and no bullshit.
I’d gone to at least three different stores and finally ended up around the corner, spending around $450 at Pier One on candles, wine glasses, and vases. I wanted to have a real nice evening before we went out with wine and talking. It would give Denise and Towanna a chance to warm up to each other. I figured given the rare chance they didn’t like each other, they would have an escape before we got to the Melting Pot.
“Look, I don’t want you hookin’ me up with none of your dude’s Nurse Ratched friends,” Towanna complained, moping into her Cobb salad.
Reaching over I smacked her elbow.
“This one ain’t ratched, trust me. She’s cute, thick, an’ Towanna wanna thicky, dimpled hippy girl . . .” I bobbed back and forth singing to her in my seat.
“Yeah, All right. What’s her Facebook?”
That was all I needed. She started grinning sheepishly into her plate. Clapping my hands I tapped my feet on the floor squealing in delight like I’d just scored myself a touchdown.
“Don’t worry ’bout all that. I already showed her your picture. She’s all in. It’s a double date. We goin’ to the Melting Pot. Saturday, fool. So dress cute, pretty please. None of this T-shirt business,” I warned, waving my hand over her with my face all furled up.
“Damn. I ain’t give her the stamp of approval or nothin’. And what the hell’s wrong with my T-shirt? Makes my arms look good. Gun show all day, baby.”
Everyone was supposed to be at the house at six p.m. and I’d made our reservations at the restaurant for a late dinner at nine. That would be more than enough time for the two of them to sit around chat and play the interview game. Since this was Denise’s night and I didn’t wanna upstage her date night, I kept my attire simple with a fitted above-the-knee cream-colored dress and yellow pumps for flair. I pinned my hair up because Devon always liked to call himself messing something up. This was just for him. I’d told Devon if he played nice tonight, I’d let him have his fun losing all my damn bobby pins between carpet and the bed later.
I turned the TV on to one of the Music Choice channels that played a variety of R&B. The entire house smelled like the crisp bamboo and citrus cilantro from candles I’d gotten earlier. He did it on purpose, and my head almost rolled off my shoulders. Devon zipped past me into the kitchen. Dolce & Gabbana all over his baahdy, probably even on the top of his freshly shaved head knowing him. My nose followed my favorite smell until he came into my line of sight and I damn near jumped the man.
“Negro, where the hell are your clothes? They’re gonna be in a few minutes and you ain’t even dressed?”
He bopped over, smiling wickedly. “You have to give me something if you want me to wear clothes tonight. I just said I’d shower and be nice.”
I smirked at him. “Fine then, walk your ass around naked. They ain’t gonna care. I’m the one getting the show.”
Why I thought I’d get away with that answer I had no idea. I was trying to take the wine out the fridge . . . and then I was pressed hard up against the fridge. My eyes narrowed impishly. Devon was already hard up against my stomach. He was being so bad. But getting so, so good. One night he was going in, or so he thought. Moaning to himself, wiggling his ass, for all I could tell he was eating the sheets. The bad head had to stop. I grabbed his face, put his mouth right where it needed to be. Then I took one of his fingers, put it up to my lips, and we played what I liked to call mirror, mirror. Everything I did to that finger he did to my lady finger and nothing else. At that moment he was about to hit my sleep magic number all on his own. He’d started off licking every inch of my pussy. I alternated between holding his head and the top of the fridge for balance.
The doorbell rang and I swear I wanted to cry in frustration. He slid me down, sitting me on the floor, and we butted foreheads. My eyes instantly watered as I fought a sneeze. Pinching the bridge of my nose I glowered at him, trying to figure out where he was even bending to in the first place. He chuckled and I climbed back into my heels . . .
When the hell did he take off . . .
“See, I told you they’d be here; where the hell is my thong? You couldn’t have just pushed it to the side? When the hell did you even take it off? Go get me one out the laundry room!”
When the doorbell rang again I hurried to answer it.
“Hey, y’all. Sorry, I was trying to open the wine.”
You know how people come in and sit at your counter in the kitchen or your kitchen table. Well, that’s what I’d planned for the start so we could have finger foods and chat. Bruschetta with tomato and cheese was laid out, different kinds of dip to pair with different kind of wine. I turned to get the wine and wine glasses and ta-da there’s my wonderful thong sitting in the kitchen sink! Hoping that neit
her of them had seen it I took a plate out the cabinet when . . .
Devon’s still in the damn laundry room!
“Excuse me for a second,” I said politely, “I just need to go in here and see if Devon’s shirt is dry.”
“Um, Chelle. You ain’t wash our glasses in the sink with them thongs did you?” Towanna asked with a sarcastic grin on her face.
I could feel the red creeping up my neck. Oh, that was so embarrassing. Sliding my hips through the smallest crack I could possibly make in the door, without letting in any light, I exhaled when I was finally all the way in the room.
“Took you long enough,” Devon whispered from directly behind me before picking me up and sitting me on top of the cool laundry of the washing machine. I was struggling with every shred of self-control to maintain my composure and be the adult.
“We can’t, they are gonna hear us. You need to get your ass dressed.” I grabbed a mismatched sock and shirt from under my butt, handing them to him. “We gotta go out there. This is rude; stop being rude.” I slapped his arm.
“They gonna hear you making all that damn noise, not me. They can have their date and we’ll have ours. You done already took your panties off for me remember?”
“No, I didn’t. You did that—”
Devon knew I’d have argued with him all night in there if he let me. He shut me up the best way he knew how and I answered with my teeth all in the side of his neck.
Chapter 31
Which Witch is Which?
We were seated at the restaurant having our first course of fondue. The waiter stood beside the table mixing everything in the little broiler on the tabletop burner. It was everyone’s first experience except for Devon. I shot him a look, daring him to compare my night to another date and he’d be reliving the laundry room experience with his hand. He clammed up quick.
From what I could tell Towanna and Denise were or weren’t getting along. They were both kind of take-charge so it was like watching a couple of rams go head-to-head. Devon started getting annoyed around the third course but I thought it was hilarious. I was digging around in my oversized purse, trying to find my phone so I could take a picture. I felt like the worst parent in the world when I found Trey’s iPad. He’d specifically asked to take it and I’d forgotten to give it to him. He was obviously having a good time if my phone wasn’t getting blown up about it though.
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