“Well, I guess you have a point there. It’s still not good for them long term though.”
All Frank could do was shrug. He knew better than to argue with Sadie. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d won an argument with her and he was sure that today wasn’t going to be the day he went on a winning streak.
“What’s that on your robe, Frank?” she asked.
Frank looked down at the front of his robe but didn’t see anything. “Where?”
“Right there, on your sleeve.”
Frank looked at both of his sleeves but still didn’t see anything. “What are you talking about? I don’t see anything.”
“I swear, you men are so blind,” Sadie said, reaching for him. “Come here.”
With a confused look on his face, Frank took a few steps forward. It wasn’t until Sadie reached for his arm that Frank realized what was going on. He tried to move back, but with speed belying her sixty-three years, Sadie grabbed his arm and pinched him twice.
“Ouch!”
“What did I tell you about using those bad words?”
“Doggonnit, Sadie! The kids ain’t out here.”
“No, but I’m out here, and I demand my respect, even from you Detective Stone.”
Frank rubbed his stinging arm. He wanted to get mad at Sadie, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. She was so sweet and friendly that she could commit cold-blooded murder, and he couldn’t get angry with her.
“Sorry Sadie.”
“That’s more like it. Now, I didn’t want to ask, but since it doesn’t seem like you’re going to tell me, I’m just going to ask. Who was that model-looking broad I saw leaving here the other day?”
“Huh?”
“Huh, my behind. You know just what the heck I’m talking about.”
“Oh, you’re talking about Ms. Ponder. She’s the principal at Frank Jr. and Rhonda’s school,” he said with a dismissive gesture.
“Is that right? Well, in all of my years of living, I’ve never heard of a principal making a house call.”
“No, you don’t understand, Sadie. The only reason she came by was because of the fight Frank Jr. got into at school. She wanted to let me know that the boy’s mother is talking about pressing charges against Jr.”
“Pressing charges? My goodness, how bad did Jr. beat this boy?” Sadie asked with concern. She loved Frank’s kids as if they were her own grandchildren, and it would break her heart to see either one of their lives ruined over some nonsense.
“Not bad at all. Just a few bumps and bruises. I think the boy’s pride and ego were hurt more than anything else.”
“Oh, okay,” Sadie said with a sigh of relief.
“From what I hear, the kid is a troublemaker and so is his mother.”
“Yeah, sounds like it. But back to you and this Ms. Ponder, mister. You mean to tell me that she couldn’t call you with that information?”
“I supposed she could’ve.”
“Well, why do you think she didn’t?”
“Sadie, I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
Frank blushed. “Look, Sadie, I’m a married man.”
“Does she know that?”
“Uh, I’m sure she does,” he said, looking down at his wedding ring.
“What makes you so sure she saw your ring? What makes you so sure that she even cares?”
“Sadie, you’re making way too much out of this.”
“We’ll see,” Sadie said, as she took another sip of her coffee.
35
“And now, by the power invested in me, by the State of Ohio, I now pronounce you man and wife. Tyrone, you may now salute your bride!”
Tyrone Powers looked down at his bride, Monica Andrews Powers, with an adoration that he’d never looked at any other woman before with. From the moment he laid eyes on her, he knew that she was his soulmate.
Monica, on the other hand, thought he was an arrogant jerk and wanted to wring her friend’s neck for even introducing her to Tyrone. Truth be told, Monica didn’t even want to go to the all-star gala. She’d worked sixty hours that week and all she wanted to do was sit at home, watch DVR reruns of Jeopardy, and eat ice cream. Betty thought that she was doing Monica a favor by getting her out of the house and introducing her to a different class of people. Because she was a press secretary for the Cleveland Indians, Betty had access to every player on the team. Tyrone Powers just happened to be an all-star pitcher for the Cleveland Indians. It was Betty who had guided him through a steroid scandal and helped him not only prove his innocence but repair his reputation. Tyrone was so grateful, that he promised Betty that no matter what event was being held, she and a plus–one would always be allowed in. He proved that he was a man of his word by flexing his considerable muscle and making sure that she was welcome to attend the party.
Betty was ecstatic. She immediately got on the phone and called Monica. It took a bit of coaxing, but Monica finally agreed to go.
That was a little over a year ago, and now the two of them were about to embark on a lifelong journey of love and happiness. Monica beamed as she closed her eyes and waited for her husband’s lips to connect with hers. The two of them melted into each other. The wedding attendees cheered loudly. Some even whistled cat calls. The kiss seemed to last longer than the actual ceremony. The two of them smiled and waved at the crowd as they paraded up the aisle, out of the sanctuary, and into the waiting limousine. Following closely behind them was the twenty-person wedding party. Tyrone spared no expense for the wedding. Monica’s wedding dress cost nearly $40,000. Her wedding ring, all ten carats of it, was rumored to cost around $75,000.
Because of Tyrone’s celebrity status and financial resources, it was easy for him to hire security and off–duty police officers to ensure that the reception was void of party crashers and people who got too drunk to control themselves. Tyrone wasn’t too worried about it, but was prepared just in case someone wanted to act up.
The reception was like a who’s who in the sports world. Nearly all of Tyrone’s teammates were there, not to mention players from the NFL and the NBA. Despite the many famous faces, however, the only thing on Tyrone and Monica’s minds was getting to their hotel room and tearing each other’s clothes off. Anyone with eyes could see that they were lusting for each other all night. Whether they were dancing, posing for photographs, or interacting with the wedding guests, the two of them just couldn’t seem to keep their hands off each other. All night long, they were watching the clock, anticipating a night of sizzling love making.
As the reception neared its end, the more and more excited they became. Twice that evening they’d considered sneaking off to fulfill their sexual desires but decided that it would be better to wait until they got to the hotel. The next morning, they would board a plane and head off to the Bahamas for a week. When the last guest had left, and the final light switch had been flipped, Tyrone and Monica all but ran to their hotel room. Since the wedding reception was held in the downstairs ballroom of the hotel, all they had to do was hop on an elevator and ride it up to their penthouse suite.
From the moment the elevator closed, they were all over each other. Tyrone grabbed Monica’s hand and pulled her toward him. His hand went to the back of her head and gripped it softly. Just like he had at the wedding ceremony, Tyrone leaned down and gently pressed his lips against his new bride’s. His manhood stiffened and pressed firmly against her lower abdomen. Heat rushed through Monica’s body as she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. The heat index rose inside the elevator and caused a bead of sweat to appear on Tyrone’s forehead.
When the elevator reached the penthouse and the door opened, Tyrone and Monica were still in the throes of passion. It took them a full fifteen seconds to realize that doors were open, and the elevator had come to a stop. As they were stepping off the elevator, someone was getting on.
“Newlyweds huh?” the person said and smiled.
“How’d you guess?�
� Monica said as she stared deeply into her husband’s eyes.
Just before the elevator closed, Tyrone shot a glance inside the elevator. He did a double take when he caught a glimpse of the person’s face. He thought he recognized it, but the elevator closed before he could be sure.
“Oh my God, baby, I can’t wait to get you inside the hotel room,” Monica said as she reached down and fondled his manhood. She couldn’t wait to feel her new husband inside of her. The two of them continued to paw at each other as they made their way down the hall.
By the time they reached the door to their room, they were like two dogs in heat. As soon as they got inside their room, Tyrone bent his wife over the arm of a couch and took her from behind. Monica howled like a wolf as Tyrone roughly entered her. They went at it for the better part of ten minutes before they stripped and got into bed. Thirty minutes later, they were both breathing heavily and were wrapped in each other’s arms.
“Oh God, baby, that was fantastic,” Monica beamed. For her to marry a man who loved her unconditionally and who she loved unconditionally meant the world to her.
“You weren’t so bad yourself, baby.”
“Really, baby? You’re not just saying that are you?”
Tyrone looked at Monica as if she were crazy.
“Are you serious? Hell, you know I’m not just saying that!”
“Calm down, baby. I was just checking. Anyway,” Monica said as she rose from the bed, “I’m going to take a shower. I stink.”
“Yeah, you do,” Tyrone said, laughing.
“Whatever. It’s your fault for getting me all sweaty and shit.”
“Hey, you got me sweaty too now.”
“But you’re a man. Y’all are always sweaty.”
Without warning, Tyrone jumped up and grabbed Monica in a bear hug.
“Oh really? Well maybe you should take some of this sweat off my hands,” he said, rubbing his body up against hers.
“Ewww, that’s nasty. Now I really need to take a shower,” Monica said, laughing. “You could join me you know.”
“That’s not such a bad idea.”
Monica smiled devilishly as she reached down and took hold of Tyrone’s penis. Like a dog on a leash, she led him into the bathroom and into the shower.
“Damn, this thing is big. What the hell have you been feeding it all these years?”
Tyrone shrugged and smiled at the compliment. He loved it when Monica bragged on the size of his penis. The two of them proceeded to get into the shower. Had it been up to Tyrone, they would have gotten busy right in the shower, but Monica wanted to take advantage of the queen-sized waterbed in the suite. Although he was slightly disappointed, Tyrone respected Monica’s wishes.
“Okay, I’m clean enough. I’ll be in the bed waiting for you.”
Tyrone then got out of the shower and dried off. He blew Monica a kiss and went off to wait for her. Monica felt blessed as she watched her husband walk away. She’d managed to snag a millionaire and find true love all at the same time. Betty had told her the horror stories about star athletes not really loving their wives and vice-versa. More often than not for the wife it was a matter of financial security. For the husband, it was a matter of having a smoking hot babe on his arm. For the most part, love never even entered the equation, although the word was thrown around quite often. For Tyrone and Monica however, it was different. The two of them genuinely loved and cared for each other.
Monica stayed in the shower for another ten minutes before she felt clean enough to crawl into her husband’s arms. After drying off, Monica tip-toed into the bedroom. A broad smile was on her face as she heard the soulful sounds of Luther Vandross coming from the mobile speaker. She licked her lips seductively when she looked at the bed and saw Tyrone’s naked body lying there. His smooth chocolate frame was so inviting, a small drip of moisture escaped from the corner of her lip. He was turned on his left side, his muscular back exposed and taut.
“I know you’re not tired already, baby. This is our wedding night so you may as well get ready for me to put it on you all night long.”
Monica slowly walked over to the bed and climbed in. With her right hand, she reached down and squeezed his butt. She placed her left hand on his shoulder as she planted soft kisses on the back of his shoulder. When Tyrone didn’t move, she frowned.
“Oh, playing hard to get, huh?”
Monica continued her seduction of her new husband by letting her tongue travel from his shoulder down the middle of his back. When she got halfway down, she turned him over with the intent of performing fellatio on him.
Noticing that he didn’t have an erection bruised her ego. She poked her lips out and lifted her head to look at him. As soon as she looked into his eyes, a piercing scream roared from Monica’s throat. The hole in the middle of his forehead peered back at her. Blood leaked from the wound and ran down the bridge of his nose.
Monica quickly moved away from his body and onto the floor. She was still on her knees, screaming, when a strand of piano wire was wrapped around her throat. Monica had no idea where she found the strength, but less than a second later, she was on her feet fighting for her life. Reaching for the wire around her neck, Monica frantically tried to insert her fingers between it and her skin. When she failed to do so, she used her legs to push back against the person attacking her and drive their body into the wall. Tears flooded her eyes as her attacker held on tight.
A sharp pain shot through Monica’s back as her attacker’s knee pushed into the middle of it. Through her tears, Monica saw an ink pen lying on the dresser. Her sight was blurry because of the incessant crying she’d been doing, but she was sure that the object she was looking at was a ball point pen. In a last-ditch effort to save her life, she used her last bit of strength to drag her attacker toward the dresser. If she could just get to that ink pen lying there, she could use it as a weapon and save herself.
She was halfway there when the pressure in her back increased and forced her to her knees. Monica felt her strength abandoning her body. The reality of her impending demise was quickly starting to set in. Feeling that there was nothing she could do to save her life, Monica let her muscles relax and accepted the inevitable.
36
Frank awoke on a Sunday morning to the smell of burnt toast drifting through his nostrils. He looked at his clock sitting on his nightstand and realized that he had slept past his regular ‘get up’ time of nine o’clock. The previous day had pretty much drained every bit of energy he had. Although it had been Captain Snyder who’d lost a family member and not him, he could still feel her pain. Being at the funeral had caused him to think of his wife. Even though she was laid up in a hospital bed, she was still alive. His heart ached every time he saw her, but he would be devastated if that was no longer an option.
Captain Snyder was more than a boss to him. He considered her a friend. The sad look on her face had nearly broken his heart. He thought about Timothy Jordan and wondered if the young cop could possibly be the mastermind behind the brutal and senseless murders. From everything he gathered, the killings seemed to be racist in nature. Frank had seen his share of dirty cops in his day, and although Timothy Jordan didn’t ring any alarms, Frank wasn’t going to rule him out as one. Dealing with criminals for the last twenty years had taught him that no one was exempt when it came to committing a crime.
The prospect of Timothy Jordan being a dirty cop angered Frank. It also saddened him. There were enough crooked cops in existence without adding him to the ranks. As an African American man, he was well aware of the social injustices going on worldwide. The lives of innocent black men like Trayvon Martin and George Floyd have been snuffed out by racist officers. And although some racists, such as Donald Sterling, have been brought to light by their racist points of view, members of law enforcement seemed to be immune to the judicial system. It sickened him even more when he thought of the beautiful Black women who’d also become victims. Sandra Bland and Breonna Taylor were just two e
xamples, although Frank was positive that there were many more that hadn’t come to light or were just plain being covered up. Frank had no idea if Timothy Jordan was guilty of the infraction, but one thing was for certain. If he was, Frank was going to take him down. A knock on his bedroom door jarred him from his thoughts.
“Daddy? Are you still asleep?” A soft voice sounded through the door, causing a broad smile to spread across Frank’s face. He didn’t need x-ray vision to know that it was he precious baby girl on the other side of the door.
“No, baby, I’m awake.”
“Can I come in?”
Frank raised an eyebrow. Very rarely did Rhonda ask to come into his bedroom. As a matter of fact, now that he thought about it, the times she knocked on his door were far and few between. He sat up in his bed, yawned, and stretched his limbs before answering her.
“Come on in, sweetheart.”
Rhonda pushed open the door and entered with a large smile on her face. She was carrying a tray holding the burned toast, runny eggs, and grits that seemed to be drowning in water. A lump formed in Frank’s throat. He was choked up at the fat that his daughter had made him breakfast, but he was also nauseated at the monstrosity that sat on a plate before him.
“Uh . . . Thanks, baby girl. You didn’t have to do this though. You know I usually cook breakfast on Sundays.”
“I know, Daddy. I just wanted to do something to show you that I love you.”
Frank looked back down at the plate and forced a smile. He had no idea how he was going to be able to digest the plate of gob before him, but if meant keeping the smile attached to Rhonda’s face, he would force himself to do just that. Just then, he heard a snicker coming from the doorway. Frank glanced up to see Frank Jr. leaning on the door frame. He could tell that his son was struggling to suppress his laughter. Rhonda frowned as she turned to face her brother. Her expression revealed that she was upset with her brother’s amusement.
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