Cheaper to Keep Her part 2 (The Saga Continues) (4 page)

While I glanced through the books in the urban section I noticed two men walking up behind me. They startled the hell out of me. I turned around and faced them both. One of them was a Caucasian male and the other one was Black. Both men were dressed in plainclothes but it wasn't hard to tell that they were detectives. I stood there with a puzzled expression because it had just dawned on me that this black guy was the exact same man who was following me earlier while Bishop and I was in the mall. I chuckled underneath my breath because now it came to me why he was following me. “You know I almost blew your cover earlier when I noticed you following in the mall,” I stated.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he replied as he extended his hand to introduce himself. “My name is Detective Whitfield and this is my partner, Detective Rosenberg. We’re the investigators assigned to the murders and the illegal baby adoptions done by the hands of Duke Carrington.”

I shook his hand and immediately let it go. I nodded my head instead of saying a word. They were in my space, so I knew they had more to say than I did.

I wondered if Whitfield was the one talking because both of us were Black or if he took the lead on all of their investigations. I hoped the latter. My radar was up, my trust level down. A gold badge and the same skin color as me weren’t guaranteeing trust on my part.

Detective Whitfield and Rosenberg led me to the back of the bookstore. It was completely empty. There was no one in sight. There were only two chairs available so I sat in one of them while Detective Whitfield sat in the other, solidifying that he was the lead detective.

Detective Rosenberg stood next to his fellow detective as Whitfield prepared to make his spiel. Before he ran down certain details of their operation, he made it his fucking business to want to know who I was with at the mall? Before I gave up Bishop’s name, I hesitated for a moment to gather my thoughts. Honestly, I hadn’t known Bishop that long, so I really didn’t have much to say about him. Not only that, that question alone made me feel awkward. I mean, I really wasn’t comfortable talking about him . . . much less giving them his name.

So, while I contemplated what to say, Detective Whitfield interrupted my thoughts by saying, “Before you say anything, just know we’ll be able to find out whether or not you’re lying to us. And if we find out that you told us a lie then it’s not going to look good for you.”

I jumped on the defense. “What makes you think I’m gonna lie to you?” I blurted out.

“Listen Lynise, I just want everything to be laid out on the table so we can all be on the same page. That’s it,” he replied, trying to play it cool. He knew he had said the wrong thing to me, that’s why he tried to soften the blow. I wasn’t stupid and by the time this conversation of ours was over, he’d recognize it for sure.

Before I gave these clowns any information I rolled my eyes and chuckled underneath my breath. This whole scene with them surrounding me as if I was a fucking informant was pathetic if you asked me. I mean, you would think with all the technology and forensic investigators roaming these idiots would have all the information they need.

But no, they would rather be lazy and have non-compensated snitches do their work for them. Shit, if I was going to do their jobs for them, then they're gonna have to do more than give me immunity and a get out of jail free card. A bitch like me needed a roof over my head and a few dollars in my pocket. If they couldn’t fit those amenities in their budget then I wouldn’t be spilling my guts. They would get the bare minimal, if they got anything at all. And that was my word.

After Detective Whitfield changed his tone a bit, I finally told him what Bishop's first name was. He tried to get his last name out of me, but I swore to him that I didn't know it, which was the God's honest truth. I did however, tell them both that he was Neeko's older brother and that he was only here to bury him.

“Are you positive that he doesn't want to seek any revenge for his bother's death?” Whitfield wanted to know.

“If he does, he hasn't mentioned it to me,” I lied. Again, these sorry ass detectives weren't trying to give up anything of value for the real scoop on Bishop, so I fed them enough to get them off my back.

“Did he mention when Neeko’s funeral would be?” his questions continued.

“Not yet. But he and Neeko's girlfriend, Katrina, are making those arrangements as we speak.”

“Well, you just make sure you keep your eyes and ears open. We want to know about every step they make. And if you hear anything about trying to seek revenge, please don't hesitate to contact us.”

“I won't,” I replied, even though I planned to do the exact opposite.

After Detective Whitfield grilled me for information about Bishop, he shifted his conversation to the plan they had to take Duke off the streets. I sat there and watched his body language as he gave me certain details about their operation. I also watched the other detective through my peripheral vision while he was watching me. These guys seemed to like they had it all figured out. But I wasn't sold on their elaborate plan to arrest Duke. It was bogus if you asked me. During those few months I had spent with Duke, I found out how vicious this guy really was. He didn't play games with anyone. He was notorious for eliminating anyone who'd gotten in his way. And if he didn't do it himself, he had people who'd jump at the opportunity.

Since the judge let me go, I had every intention on helping these detectives bring that bastard down. But I wasn't going to let them put my life in danger to accomplish their mission.

During the entire briefing, I believed I only had a handful of words to say. Detective Whitfield pretty much ran the floor. When our talk was finally over, he looked at me and asked me if I had any questions. I started to get up and walk away from his silly looking ass. But I stayed calm and said, “Do you really expect me to call him and ask him if he’d want to have dinner with me after all the shit I’d been through with him? I mean, that doesn’t sound crazy to you? He’s a very bright man and he’s going to know that something isn’t right.”

“Detective Rosenberg already thought about that,” Detective Whitfield retorted. “And all you have to do is play on the fact that even though he screwed you around and had you locked up for something you hadn’t done, you still can’t take your mind off of him.”

I gave this guy the look of death. “Are you fucking kidding me? Is that all you have?” I spat. “Me telling that no good son of a bitch that I can’t get my mind off him sounds suspect. He’s not going to believe any of that bullshit. You’re talking about a man who has pregnant women killed if they won’t give their babies to him so he can sell them to his rich clients. He is heartless. There is no beating around the bush with this man. He will see right through that shit as soon as I open my mouth. If you can’t come up with a better plan than that, then you’re gonna have to find another chick to do your dirty work because I’m not about to get my fucking head chopped off because y’all ain’t got y’all shit together.”

Both detectives looked at me like I was crazy. “You need to calm down,” Detective Whitfield said as he surveyed the bookstore to see if I had attracted any attention. “I know there’s a better way that we can handle this.”

“Not with that shit you're talking about!” I interjected. “I am not about to let y'all get me caught up in that mess and get my head blown off. Shit! I'm trying to live and maybe get married one day and have some damn kids.” I abruptly stood to my feet.

Detective Whitfield grabbed me by my arm. “Where you think you're going?” he asked me.

“You better get your hands off of me,” I roared. I was in a state of indifference. It was Whitfield’s job to handle the black bitch in case I didn’t go along with the program. Plus, no way did I want a white cop to touch me like this. Hell, I didn’t want this muthafucka touching me like this.

Again Detective Whitfield surveyed the bookstore to see if I had caused people to look at us. He leaned in towards my right ear and said, “If you don't cooperate with us then I would personally make it so that you end up back in jail where you started. I don't have time for your games. The judge dropped the charges against you based on the condition that you help us. Now if you continue to give me problems, then I will make a call right now to the jail so they can start your paperwork while I transport your ass back down there.”

“So now you're threatening me?” I snapped and then I snatched my arm away from him.

“I don't make threats. I make shit happen,” he snapped back.

Detective Rosenberg took one step toward us in effort to defuse the situation. I wasn't in the mood to hear a word he had to say. So I took the first step to leave. But before I could take the second step, Detective Rosenberg grabbed my arm as delicate as he possibly could. I stopped in my tracks and looked at his hand as it held onto my arm. And within three quick seconds I looked straight at him. “If you don’t take your hands off me I am going to scream,” I told him.

He immediately removed his hand from my arm. “Look,” he began to say, “Look Lynise, my partner and I know you're bitter about this whole situation, but if you get on the same page with us, we can help you get the justice you deserve.”

“Look, I understand everything you guys are saying, but I'm going to need to sleep on this tonight. So hand me your card and I will call you tomorrow.”

Detective Rosenberg pulled a business card from his jacket pocket and handed it to me. I grabbed it from him and made my way out of the bookstore. I looked back a couple of times to see if I were being followed. And when I realize I hadn’t, I dashed around the corner and power walked back to the hotel.

Wondering what in the fuck was I doing . . .

Cheaper to Keep Her part 2 Unique

Let’s Be Real-Chapter Five

When I arrived back at the hotel I realized I hadn’t done anything I had set out to do.

I was right back where I started. And after I re-entered the room, I slammed the door and sat back down on the bed. I picked up the remote control and began to surf through the channels. Unfortunately for me, there wasn't a thing I wanted to watch on television. I started to rent a movie from the demand channel but then I decided against it because the room wasn't in my name. Bishop probably would not have cared one way or another, but it was the principal behind it all.

Since I had nothing else to do, I've decided to lie down and catch a quick nap. With all the stuff I had going on, I found it hard to close my eyes. So I just laid there and stared up at the ceiling. The conversation I had with the detectives kept replaying over and over in my head. And the part that bothers me was the fact they wanted to use me as fish bait to reel Duke's slimy ass in. As bad as I wanted to see that bastard in jail, I wasn't about to gamble with my life to do it. Not only that, I had invested a lot of time and emotion fucking with Duke. I needed compensation more than just simple gratification and seeing him behind bars. I was broke and I had no place to call home. I needed some type of funding. I needed a new wardrobe, a whip and a place to lay my head. So somebody was going to have to pay up or keep it moving. I was a chick from the streets and it was about time for everybody to know it.

I hadn’t realized I had fallen asleep until the hotel door opened and closed. The way Bishop and Katrina walked in the room startled the hell out of me. She cut her eyes at me for a brief second and again she walked into the bathroom. Bishop on the other hand, took a seat in the chair by the table and asked me how long I had been asleep?

I looked over at the clock on the nightstand and said, “Not long. Maybe about forty-five minutes.”

Bishop smiled. As much as I wanted to say it was a devious smile, I couldn’t. It was just a simple smile. And for whatever reason, I didn’t know how to take it.

Before Bishop could utter another word to me, Katrina walked out of the bathroom. He and I both looked at her. Believe me, I felt a little awkward when she looked at me. To me, it was more of a stare than anything, which made me believe that she was probably eavesdropping on our little chat from the bathroom. I waited for her to come out of her mouth the wrong way because I wasn’t going to hesitate to curse her stuck-up ass out.

“Have you decided what you are going to do?” Bishop asked.

Katrina took a few steps towards him while she was fixing her blouse. “I’m going to head back over the water. I figured while I’m over that side I could wait for that guy to call me.”

It didn't surprise me when that heifer walked out the door without saying goodbye. She’s the type of chick who wanted everything her way and if she couldn't get it, then she’d make shit very difficult for everyone around her. When I worked at the club I always made it my business to avoid her. I did this to keep from fucking her up.

There were a few times when she got into a few arguments with a couple of dancers. Now I've got to admit that Katrina was one feisty bitch. But the two dancers she had the confrontations with were even crazier. Those chicks were from Portsmouth and they held their city down. So it would've been funny as hell to see them whip her ass. Thank God for Neeko. He was her savior ’round there. And she knew it too, which is why she kept running her fucking mouth. I wonder what she was going to do now. Neeko was dead and gone and he was no longer around to save her dumb ass?