Devilish Details (11 page)

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Authors: Lynn Emery

Tags: #louisiana author, #louisiana mystery, #female sleuth cozy mystery southern mystery murder

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“My only crime was I partied with Filipe and
other friends who got into some seriously illegal mess. Now you in
my face accusing me of crap I didn’t do.” Jazz glared at him.

“This is the price you pay for hanging with
a bad crowd, Ms. Vaughn,” Detective Miller replied dryly.

“I had that lecture at least a dozen times
when I was a kid, so let’s skip it,” Jazz retorted. She brushed off
his Sunday School Teacher scolding. She focused like a laser on his
lack of reaction to Filipe’s name. “So you’ve connected Filipe to
Brandon’s murder.”

“Is that why Kyeisha came to see you? They
think you know where he has inventory and cash stored? I seem to
recall something about warehouses on Interline Ave. back when we
were investigating Jack Crown’s murder.” Miller lifted one dark
eyebrow at her.

He was getting too close for comfort. Jazz
shifted in her seat. She needed a story to steer him to another
angle. She had visions of a press conference with him and the
district attorney standing next to a table piled with cash. Her
cash.

“Detective Miller, I swear, I don’t know
anything I told Kyeisha what I’m telling you, except louder. I
don’t know anything about Filipe having money floating around.”

“You emphasized the point to her,” Miller
said.

“Yeah, but she didn’t believe me,” Jazz
replied with heat.

“Did this emphasis get physical by any
chance?” “She understood my position by the time we parted
company,” Jazz said. She doubted Kyeisha had complained to the
police. “You need to be asking Kyeisha all these questions. She
talked like she knew a lot about Cleavon’s connections and how
Filipe’s gang tied in to it all.”

“Interesting.” Miller continued to gaze at
Jazz in silence, waiting again.

“She’s thick with Lorraine Taylor. Try
looking for her over at Lorraine’s place, The Sweet Spot. Kyeisha
had one of those low rent duplex apartments over on McClelland
Drive. Well, if she kept paying rent she’d be over there. She gets
evicted a lot. Then she ends up at her mama’s house over on West
Garfield in old South Baton Rouge.” Jazz shrugged. “I’m trying to
tell you all I know.”

“She’s moved to a place on Concord. In fact,
she upgraded to a three bedroom unit. Been paying her bills on time
and she got a car,” Miller replied.

“Kyeisha rarely held on to a job or money
for long, so that’s a clue she’s getting paid on the regular. Why
you wasting time on me? Drag her ass in for questioning,” Jazz shot
back.

“We did find her, just not all of her.”

Jazz shivered at the way he’d said those
words. Miller’s brows pulled together as he continued to nod;
waiting for her to ask. She didn’t want to, but the words tumbled
out. “What you mean not all of her?”

“Fingers, three fingers. Identified them
from prints we have from her previous arrests. They’re hers
alright. Lots of blood in her apartment, too.” Miller continued to
nod like a bobble-head doll.

“Just her fingers,” Jazz replied weakly.

“You got something more you wanna tell me,
Ms. Vaughn?” Detective Miller wasn’t big on melodramatics or
beating home a point once made. He sat watching as the full effect
of his disclosure did the work for him.

 

 

 

Chapter 7

 

 

The next morning, Jazz sat in Willa’s office
at Crown Protection. Tyretta had come along to. She felt a little
better surrounded by people she trusted. Not to mention the five
trained security staff that happened to be in that day. They were
meeting with Willa’s handsome chief of operations in a large
conference room on the west side of their office suite. Cedric
Robinson really wanted to wanted to trade that one in for “Willa’s
man”. Protective as ever of Willa, Cedric stuck his head in the
office twice to update them that he would join them soon.

MiMi showed up after dropping Sage off at
the fancy daycare paid for with granddaddy’s money. Willa kept
sitting down and then popping up to pace around the office. She
shot questions at Jazz and Tyretta. Sipping gourmet brew and eating
her second donut, Tyretta seemed quite content. She kept glancing
around Willa’s office in appreciation. MiMi was
uncharacteristically quiet. The mention of severed body parts
apparently had dampened her enthusiasm for the money chase.

Willa pointed a finger with a soft pink
polish on the nail. “So tell me again what Miller said, and don’t
roll your eyes. I want to know his exact words.”

Jazz rolled her eyes anyway and started from
the beginning. Trying to put on her best streetwise bravado had
been a defense mechanism for years. Still, Miller had done a great
job quite rattling Jazz down to her bones. As Willa suspected, Jazz
could reconstruct Miller’s words down to his non-verbal cues. She
didn’t just replay what he’d said, but the way he’d said it. Willa
and Jazz had learned that survival skill living with their
unpredictable mother, her string of boyfriends, and bouncing around
in foster care.

Willa sat on the edge of her large oak desk.
“He waited until the very end to mention the fingers. Then he
refused to give you more details.”

“Said the investigation is on-going. They
hope to find more evidence, they’re interviewing witnesses. Blah,
blah, blah.” Jazz rubbed her eyes. She’d been unable to sleep the
night before.

“You know he won’t tell you much more. You a
suspect,” Tyretta piped up and licked icing from one thumb. “Yeah,
you whipped her ass and then drugged her.”

“Oh my God.” MiMi blinked like she’d just
been slapped.

Jazz hissed in frustration. “I defended
myself and tied her up, sure. But I didn’t put a beating on that
fool, much as she deserved it.”

“We got to find that heffa and figure out
what’s what,” Tyretta replied and gazed steadily at Jazz.

“Uh-huh, I know what you’re saying,” Jazz
said softly.

“No,” Willa said and slapped a palm on the
desk. “You two are crazy if you’re thinking of going after Kyeisha.
Cleavon is waiting for you, or did you forget?”

“How the hell I’m gonna forget after he
jammed me up on a dead end street? But Cleavon got more problems of
his own. He’s sweatin’ to find money and take over Filipe’s
business.” Jazz looked at Tyretta again.

Tyretta took Jazz’s cue and began her street
level report. “Filipe has a sharp new lawyer. He’s got a good shot
at his appeal, so he could be getting out. I mean they didn’t tie
him directly to the whole drug deal smuggling ring. That deacon at
Abundant Love, the one over the prison and ex-offender ‘ministry’,
he got most of the blame.”

“He won’t be talking or hiring an attorney
since somebody killed him before Filipe was charged,” Jazz
retorted. “And one of Filipe’s boys got the blame for killing the
shady deacon, and then
he
turned up dead.”

“All excellent reasons we should let the
police do their dirty work and get back to our lives,” Willa put in
firmly. “Filipe finds out you’re sniffing the trail of what belongs
to him, he’s going to start thinking.”

“She’s makin’ sense,” Tyretta said. “If
Filipe ain’t suspicious you snitched, he will be if one of his gang
says you’re after his money. Or anything he owns. I agree with your
sister. Leave this mess the hell alone.”

“Wait a minute. We’re looking for
Jack’s
money
,” MiMi blurted out. “We’ll make that clear. No asking
around his gang or any of the ghetto fabulous folks. No offense,
Tyretta.”

“None taken,” Tyretta replied and poured
more coffee into her cup. She gave Jazz the side eye though.

“We have a legitimate need to settle his
estate. Searching for assets is part of the legal process. No need
to involve Jazz at all.” MiMi’s tone became more confident the
longer she talked. “You have a responsibility to account for
property, cash, investments or whatever as the executor.”

Jazz looked at Willa. “She’s makes a good
argument. If you happen to find out there’s more money than might
be Jack’s then... some of it is mine.”

“Hmm, that could work. Keep the search in
the bourgie world, the civil courts. No mention of Jazz. Might be
ticklish for a minute or two, but it could work.” Tyretta sipped
coffee. She might have been a corporate type considering a business
strategy. Of course the orange braids, matching nail polish, and
skin tight zebra leggings didn’t fit the image.

“Forget that idea,” Cedric’s deep voice
seemed like a thunder clap. All four women jumped.

“Damn, got coffee on my new leggings!”
Tyretta protested. She grabbed a napkin and took angry swipes at
the offending wet brown spot. “Who the hell...”

“Sorry ladies. I came in after my other
meeting ended,” Cedric replied and nodded to everyone as a
greeting.

Tyretta’s mouth hung open as she looked at
him. Her gaze drifted from his face down to his feet. “I’ll get
some of that stain remover and these will be good as new. Can I get
you anything?”

“He moves around real smooth and quiet,”
Jazz said with a grin.

“He’s good at that,” Willa replied.

“I’m gonna want details later,” Jazz
whispered back with a wink.

Willa blushed. Looking away, she became
fascinated with an ink pen on her desk. “I meant he’s good at
blending in when he investigates.”

“Yeah,” Jazz wisecracked. When Willa
buttoned up her navy blue blazer, Jazz’s smirk widened.

“Filipe has eyes and ears everywhere. He’ll
make the connection. He’s a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of
them,” Cedric said.

“He’s right. The minute there is anything on
record about me searching for money outside the United States he’ll
know.” Willa nodded in agreement.

“Not to mention the media might get
interested. Jack’s murder investigation played big in the news,”
Cedric added.

MiMi winced. “Jerk reporters.”

“Reverend Fisher had a fine old time giving
a couple of interviews. All that stuff about the sin of envy and
the wickedness caused by the love of money.” Willa gazed at
Jazz.

“Don’t give me a look. I didn’t tell him
what to say.” Jazz lifted her nose in the air. “He was my spiritual
adviser. He didn’t ask me to write his sermons or anything.”

“Yeah, well your ‘spiritual adviser’ sure
didn’t succeed at putting you on the road to righteousness,” Willa
retorted. “And he didn’t stop passing the collection plate at
Abundant Love Ministries either.”

“He didn’t stop lovin’ the Lord or money,”
Tyretta chimed in and cackled. “Nice church though. I attend
service there once in a while. Lot of members.”

“Amazing,” MiMi said. “The fact that
gangsters were using his ministry to run a drug and gun operation
didn’t damage his reputation or the church’s either. He came off
looking like a saint because he forgave them, and visited some in
jail.”

“Reverend Fisher is a survivor,” Jazz
replied with a smile. Then her amusement withered as she considered
Cedric’s argument. “So you’re saying we should back off.”

“Crown Protection is doing a little better
than breaking even. I have three appointments this week alone to
get long-term contracts,” Cedric said to Willa.

Willa stared at Jazz. “Thank you. Please
tell them we’re not about to close our doors.” “Far from it,”
Cedric replied. He turned to MiMi. “I know you’d like a richer
lifestyle, but you’re doing just fine. You have a job, a very nice
house, and income from Jack’s investments...”

“Very modest income,” MiMi protested.

“Aunt Ametrine would say you’re blessed and
don’t have sense enough to know it,” Willa said. She ignored the
dirty look MiMi shot her way. “Bottom line is he’s right. Jazz, the
last thing you should want is anything to do with thugs. Go back to
just running your club. Let the police keep the heat on Cleavon,
and eventually he’ll lose interest in you.”

“I have no doubt Filipe has eyes on Cleavon,
which means bad news for Cleavon. Let’s not get caught in the
crossfire,” Cedric said.

“Hell, no. Drive-bys with bullets flying
everywhere is bad for my health. We better let them fight it out
and stay low,” Tyretta said. She flashed a smile at Cedric, who
blushed and cleared his throat.

Jazz frowned at Tyretta. “A minute ago you
agreed with me.”

“I’m willing to consider new information and
stay
flexible
,” Tyretta replied, her gaze still on Cedric.
“I’m real
flexible
.”

Cedric blinked hard and looked at Willa.
“I’ve got calls to make, but stay far away from anything that
involves Filipe Perez.”

Tyretta sprang to block his exit as he
started for the door. She stuck out her hand. “It was a pleasure
meeting you.”

“Um, same here. Bye.” Cedric left as if he
had urgent matters elsewhere.

“He’s got a serious thing for Willa, so stop
wasting your time sweetie,” Jazz drawled.

“Hey,” Willa blurted out and stood
straight.

MiMi waved a hand. “Oh everybody knows you
two are hot for each other.”

“I don’t know what the hell everybody thinks
they know, but they need to stay out of my business,” Willa said.
The heat in her tone threatened to melt anything within twenty
feet.

MiMi ignored Willa. “Let’s get back to the
money. We all know Cedric is conservative, and while I appreciate
his sense of caution...”

“Hey, you ever been on the wrong end of a
straight mean thug? The more I think about it, Jazz, the more I
agree with Mr. Sexy,” Tyretta said.

“But, but.” MiMi’s mouth worked as she tried
to marshal another argument

Jazz hissed out a long sigh and stood. She
looped her leather hobo bag over one shoulder. “MiMi, just stop. We
both know damn well Cedric is right. Those fingers missing the rest
of Kyeisha? That’s the kind of stuff Latino drug gangs do to people
who cross them. I’m sentimental about all of my body parts, so
that’s a wrap for me on the money chase.”

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