Between Friends (20 page)

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Authors: D. L. Sparks

Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #General, #African American Police, #Urban Life, #Thrillers, #African American

BOOK: Between Friends

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Chapter Twenty-four

Idalis

I had been in a fog for the better part of a week.

And when I wasn't feeling my way through the day, I was riding some sleeping aid to dreamland. I vaguely remembered Dionne picking up Cameron and taking him to her house so we could get ready for the funeral. The funeral itself was surreal. I felt like a shell of myself as I navigated the mourners who flooded the church. I was completely numb through the whole thing. I could feel the squeeze of the hugs and barely focused on the words of encouragement being offered up. It was a good thing that India was standing next to me or I would've toppled over. I was even less clear on how I ended up sitting at my mom's kitchen table, trying to decide what to do about my grandmother's stuff.

I watched my mother interact with the people who had gathered at the house, all bearing a different covered dish. As much as she tried to hide it, I could tell she was tired. I was happy when she was finally able to go and lie down. After the repast my mother went to her room and closed her door. I made sure she ate before she retreated into her own personal grief. India had ended up falling asleep on the couch.

Trip respected my wishes and didn't come to the funeral. I knew I couldn't have handled him and Linc being in the same room again. After what had happened the last time they were together, I needed space to figure out how to right my wrongs.

However, no matter what my self-serving reasons were, I still couldn't shake the look that his mother and sister kept giving me during the service. It wasn't anger as much as it was pity. But the look that my mother gave me after finding out that I'd asked Trip not to come was anything but sympathetic. It was a look that would've made me pee my pants when I was kid.

I made my way to the living-room and threw a blanket over my sleeping sister before heading upstairs to check on my mother. I pushed the door back and saw her sleeping peacefully, which made me feel a little better. It was coming up on eight and I needed to call and check on Cameron. Lincoln left the repast and said he was heading to the station. I was actually thankful that he was gone. I didn't need his attitude around me either.

After putting away the food, I sat down and called Dionne. I didn't think Cameron needed to be at the funeral, around all the crying and sadness. He was too little to understand, and Dionne was sweet enough to keep him for me.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked when she answered.

I sank onto one of the chairs in the kitchen. “Yeah. I'm good. Mom is asleep and India is taking a nap on the couch.”

“Have you slept?”

“Not yet. How's Cameron?”

“He's fine. He just finished eating. He's watching
Wonder Pets.”

I laughed a little. “You're gonna get the song stuck in your head.”

“Already there.”

We both laughed a little.

“I think I'm gonna head to my house tonight and drop off our dirty clothes and get some clean ones. I can come and get Cameron in the morning.”

“That's fine.”

“Thank you so much.”

As much as I wanted to be mad at her for talking to Trip behind my back, I knew it was coming from a place of genuine concern, so I couldn't be mad. I appreciated all she did for me, so I decided not to even bring it up.

“I'm surprised that Trip and Lincoln made it through the funeral without choking each other,” she said.

I swallowed hard. “Trip wasn't there.”

“What? Why?”

“I asked him not to come.”

She let out a sigh and got quiet.

“Don't do that, Dionne.”

“Do what?”

“I did what I thought was best for me and my family.”

“No, you did what you thought was best for you and Lincoln.”

“You know what. Since you wanna open that door, I would appreciate it if you'd stop going behind my back and telling Trip on me. I'm grown.”

“Grown? Idalis that man had you in your office in tears. And I don't care what you say I know he did something to you that night. I was just worried about you,” she countered.

“Well you can stop worrying, I'm fine.”

She didn't say anything. I knew she was mad, but no one was as angry as I was. I wasn't going to let anyone make me feel bad for doing what I believed in my heart to be the best thing.

“Look, once this is over Trip's going back to Louisiana. That's the one point everyone seems to keep overlooking,” I pointed out.

“So that's what your problem is? You don't want to open up because he's gonna leave?”

“That's what he does. He bails.”

“And what do you think you're doing?”

“Trying to be happy and build a stable home life for my son.”

“With Lincoln?” She let out a sound of disgust. “You've got to be kidding me.”

“Don't do that, please.”

“Idalis, you really need to snap out from whatever it is you're going through. Lincoln isn't right for you, and you know it. You've known it longer than you want to admit. Your relationship hasn't been right for a long time.”

“We're just going through something, that's all.”

“Dealing with things for a few weeks is going through somethingây'all have been going at it off and on for the last few years.”

“So what I guess you think that Trip is the answer?”

“That's not what I'm saying. But, honestly, I definitely know that Linc isn't.”

I got up and started pacing the small area in front of the kitchen sink. “You just don't understand, Dionne.”

“Well, help me understand.”

I stopped dead in my tracks and focused on the tiny clock hanging above the door leading to the hallway. I watched the second hand sweep around the face of the clock. I wanted to help her understand, felt like maybe I would understand more myself if I talked it out. But I couldn't. The words were stuck in my head, refusing to be put on display and ridiculed.

I let out a heavy sigh. “Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I'm really tired.”

“Fine, get some sleep.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay. Here's Cameron.”

I heard some fumbling around as she put my baby on the phone.

“Hi, Mommy.”

Hearing his tiny voice brought tears to my eyes. “Hey, baby. Are you having fun with Aunt Dionne?” I smiled.

“Yes.”

“Okay, it's almost time for bed. I'll be there to get you in the morning.”

“Okay. Bye, Mommy.”

There was more fumbling before Dionne's voice came back on the line.

“Thanks again, Dionne. I told him it was time for bed. Don't let him sucker you into staying up all night.”

She laughed. “I won't. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Try to get some sleep.”

“I will. Good night.”

I disconnected the call and did one more check on my sister and mother. They were both still sleeping. I managed to drag a half-asleep India upstairs to bed, and she even seemed coherent when I told her I was gonna go home and I'd be back in the morning.

I stepped into my empty house and felt like I didn't belong. Not because it had been a couple days since I'd slept there, but mainly because everything about my life seemed wrong at this point. If I wanted, I could blame everyone from Trip to my mother for what I was dealing with, but that wouldn't be right or fair.

After I threw some fresh clothes for Cameron and me in a bag, I took a long, hot shower and pulled on an oversized pair of pajama pants and a T-shirt. In the kitchen I pieced together a small salad and warmed up some salmon, which was in the fridge. I had been so focused on my mother eating that I hadn't had anything since breakfast.

Just as I finished eating, my sister called. She barely remembered what I told her before I left.

“Are you okay? When are you coming back over here?”

“Twin, I told you before I left that I'd be back in the morning. I'll probably go get Cameron first.”

“Okay.”

“Mama still asleep?”

“Yeah.” She yawned.

It was contagious.

I did the same.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

I picked up the remote. “Watching TV. Trying to relax. It's too quiet.”

“You need to try to get some sleep.”

I flipped past a rerun of
The Office,
settling on an even older episode of
Grey's Anatomy.
“Yeah, I guess I do.”

“You wanna talk?”

I rubbed my temple. “No.”

“Why?”

“Because I've had enough stress for one day.”

There was a moment of silence before my sister did what she does best, try to fix everything and everyone around her, forcing her opinion on you even when you didn't ask for it. She'd had that problem forever, and obviously had no intention of trying to break the annoying habit.

“He's like ... family. And you were wrong for not letting him come to the funeral. Grammie was like a grandmother to him too.”

“Are you kidding me?” My defenses shot up like a steel trapdoor.

“You heard me, Twin. You were dead-ass wrong, and you know it.”

“The only thing I know is you have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Oh, I don't?” she snapped back. “I've been carrying around this weight with you, Idalis! It's a lot on me too. You're being selfish.”

I chewed on the inside of my mouth, used that as a counteraction to stop the tears that were stinging my eyes.

“What do you want me to do, Twin? Huh? Since you know everything, tell me what to do!” I got up and grabbed some tissue from the bookcase. “You don't think this is hard for me? You're leaving, anyway, so what do you care?”

“Oh, hell no! You're not putting this shit on me. I have nothing to do with this. You're playing this thing like a gameâand, worst of all, you're changing and making up rules to suit you.”

“You need to keep your voice down before you wake up my mother.”

“Whatever, Idalis.”

“So now the girl who can't, or rather
won't,
hold down a job, and who hasn't had a real relationship in years, is gonna tell me how to be a grown-up? Yeah, miss me with that.”

She blew out some air. “You know what, Idalis? I may not have a nine-to-five gig, and yeah, I don't have a man. But I know right from wrong, and you're wrong. Trip doesn't deserve this.”

“I didn't ask you for your opinion.”

“Well, you need to ask somebody, because you are out of control! You can think for yourself, but instead you're letting some dog-ass man dictate your life. That's crazy, Idalis! What happened to the strong, older-by-three-minutes sister I always looked up to?”

“I'm right here.”

“No, you're not. You've allowed Lincoln to turn you into some fuckin' Stepford wife, who can't go to the bathroom without checking with him first.”

“That's not true.”

“Yes, it is. I know it, Mom sees it, and Grammie saw it before she died. You left that cushy job at the Four Seasons just because he bought you a damn club. What kind of shit is that?”

“Did you ever think maybe I liked that club?”

“Yeah, right. He only did that to keep tabs on you Idalis. I'm not stupid and neither are you.”

“Well, once you move to California, you won't have to worry about me or my club!”

“You know what? Bye!”

After I hung up, I tossed my phone onto the couch and stared at it for a few seconds. I wanted to call back and make her understand. I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to cry and beg her to stay. She's my twin; she was my best friend, even before Trip.

Why couldn't she see that without her, I just didn't feel I made sense?

Chapter Twenty-five

Trip

My truck was wide open, slicing through traffic on I-20, headed east.

We'd gotten a tip that Darius was hiding out at a cousin's house, out in Decatur. Right now, a lot was hinging on what he could or couldn't tell us. The fact that he was running had pissed me off. Lenny and two other agents were already set up at the house, where another agent on my team and I were headed. They'd been watching it since last night and were sure he was there.

It had been almost a week and I hadn't spoken to Idalis. Phil was intermittently conscious, but he wasn't coherent enough to answer any questions yet. My mere presence in Georgia had ruined two lives so far; I was determined to right at least one wrong, and Darius was going to help me do it.

Whether he wanted to do so or not.

I jumped off at Memorial Drive and sped by the jail. I hooked a right onto Kensington and pulled into Avondale Estates. I stopped at the top of Kingstone.

The streets were quiet. I radioed Lenny to let him know I was in the neighborhood.

“We're watching the address. Two females exited about twenty minutes ago, but no one has left since,” he chirped back.

“Any movement in the house?”

“Not yet.”

I parked my truck around the corner, and Agent Michaels and I hopped out, making our way toward the address. I noticed another agent alongside the house. He moved closer to the front when he saw us.

“Two pit bulls in the back. Sounds like there is at least one in the house,” he said.

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' pipeâon a regular basis, I might addâto 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.”

“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”âI shoved my phone in its holderâ“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.”