Devilish Details (25 page)

“Aw hell naw you ain’t talkin’ to
me
like that. Mutha, I’ll kick your ass to several curbs if you don’t
watch it,” Jazz shot back. She faced him with both hands on her
hips.

“You ain’t special. There’s about ten of you
waitin’ in the club. Another ten in the next club, too.” Don gave a
contemptuous grunt. He looked at Mateo. “She’s all yours. I’m outta
here and on to somethin’ better.”

“You ain’t walkin’ off after talkin’ to me
like I’m dirt,” Jazz shrieked.

She leapt onto Don’s back and pounded it
with her fists. He attempted to shake her off while swinging in a
circle. Jazz kept up a stream of cuss words, insulting Don and his
parents. Obviously taken by surprise, the three men stood watching
them. The tall man laughed until he bent at the waist.

“Aw man, you can’t let her get away with
this shit. Slap her ass down.” The shorter man joined his companion
in laughter.

“Hey you fools,” Mateo yelled at the men.
“Pull these other fools apart. This ain’t no damn floor show.”

Don and Jazz continued to tussle as the
three men approached. Mateo looked angry and disgusted. His friends
still laughed as they strode closer. They traded jokes about Jazz
getting the upper hand on Don. Jazz prayed fifteen minutes would be
up soon. Never had she hoped to see the police before in her
life.

Mateo reached them first. “Break it the fuck
up. I ain’t got time to watch Divorce Court out here,” he
growled.

Before he could speak again Don landed a
punch upside his head. Stunned, Mateo stumbled back. Don didn’t
give him time to recover. He hit him again. Jazz pulled out her
pistol and shot twice over the heads of the other men. Both froze
in the act of running. Don and Mateo traded blows, but Don’s longer
arms and weight gave him an advantage.

“Y’all must don’t know ‘bout me,” Jazz
shouted. “I don’t bluff. You move, I’ll shoot.”

“You can’t shoot us both at the same time,”
the tall man said, his gaze darting at Mateo’s battle with Don.

“I can shoot one though. When he’s down,
I’ll aim for the one still standing. This is an automatic. I’m good
with it, too.” Jazz moved away from the men as she spoke.

“We can take her, man. She’s all talk,” the
tall man rasped aside to his buddy.

“Try me, muthafuckas,” Jazz screamed. “My
nerves bad from this drama. I might shoot you on general
principle.”

“Dude, this ain’t even our fight,” the
shorter man said.

“You want Mateo lookin’ for us cause we left
him?” his friend replied with a frown. He glowered at Jazz. “You
ain’t got the guts.”

Jazz pulled the trigger. The shorter man
yelped and grabbed his thigh. “I meant to hit you in the stomach,
bitch.”

“Fuck this.”

The tall man pulled a gun and fired at Jazz.
Without hesitation Jazz shot twice more at both men. Don and Mateo
hit the ground still locked in battle. Within seconds Mateo lay
still on his stomach.

“Dumpster to your right,” Don shouted to
Jazz just as the sound of sirens cut through the air.

Jazz followed his voice running at top
speed. The next five seconds became a blur of sounds. Gunfire mixed
with sirens, running feet and shouting voices. She felt a punch on
her shoulder but kept running. She barreled into Don’s solid body.
When she tried to keep going past him, Don wrapped her in a bear
hug. Jazz couldn’t hear his voice as she fought to get free. The
powerful urge to flee drove her. Don lifted her until her boots
dangled about a foot from the ground. He managed to twist her
around until they were face to face. Then he shook her hard.

“Stop running. The cops will shoot you. They
can’t tell who’s who out here,” he said, his words a scratchy
whisper.

She slumped against his chest, heaving in
gulps of air. Don comforted her then gestured for Jazz to lean
against the dumpster. He did hand signals that Jazz took to mean
she should follow him. Before she could catch her breath, Don
walked out from the relative safety of the dumpster into a flood of
bright white light.

“Officer Don Addison. I’m going to reach for
my wallet,” he yelled.

“Keep walking with your hands up, sir,” a
deep voice replied. “Tell me which pocket and I’ll get it.”

Jazz slid to the ground, eyes squeezed
closed. The voices of the other police officers sounded like white
men . She shook so hard she was sure the dumpster would start to
vibrate. Jazz felt tears rolling down her cheeks. “Do what they
say, Don,” she whispered.

“Look, just let me show you,” Don
started.

“What the hell. The police out here tryin’
to kill more black men,” an angry voice shouted.

The sound of a crowd from the club burst
forth, a babble of about fifty outraged voices. Police officers
ordered them to back away. The pop of breaking glass mixed with
shouts.

“Wait a damn minute officers,” Don yelled. A
series of booms muffled the rest of his words.

Feet running away. Flashing blue lights
crisscrossed the alleys. Jazz crawled in slow motion toward a prone
tall figure. Red sweater. Blue jeans. She screamed his name twice
before the nightmarish picture went black.

* * *

Jazz woke up in a hospital bed with a start,
sitting straight up with a whimper. Two pairs of arms circled her
instantly as she panted for breath. Her sister’s familiar scent, an
expensive perfume she wore daily, soothed Jazz.

“You’re safe, honey. It’s going to be okay,”
Willa said as she smoothed Jazz’s tangled hair down with one
hand.

“Yes, they have those criminals locked up in
jail. That’s where they should be.” MiMi hugged her gently.

“Don,” Jazz managed to gasp.

Willa’s father seemed to appear out of
nowhere. “He got shot, but it’s not life threatening. Just a flesh
wound. He was released this morning.”

“Huh?” Jazz blinked at him.

“You’ve been here overnight, sweetie.” Willa
tried to say more, but got choked up. Willa covered her mouth as
she sobbed.

“Come with me so you don’t upset her.” Mama
Ruby led Willa out of the room.

Papa Elton fluffed the pillows on the bed.
“Lay back now.”

Jazz found herself sobbing against his chest
two seconds later. He patted her and rumbled paternal words of
comfort, something she wasn’t used to at all. His solid embrace
combined with his tenderness soon worked. She let him ease her back
onto the pillows. Papa Elton wiped her face. Jazz even let him hold
the tissue while she blew her nose.

“Thanks,” she rasped, voice raw from crying
like a baby. “Sorry I lost it. Hope I didn’t get your shirt all wet
and nasty.”

“Ah forget it, baby. I’ve had my kids do
worse on my shirt,” Papa Elton said with a grin.

“No details please,” Jazz joked back. She
sighed and closed her eyes but they popped open again. “How is Don?
Those damn thugs hurt him, I’m gonna--”

MiMi appeared to her left. “Hey, girl. You
won’t believe this, but a deputy shot Don. Thought he was one of
the bad guys. Didn’t give him time to show his ID and...”

“MiMi, not now,” Papa Elton cut her off.

Jazz sat up again, but Papa Elton firmly
pushed her against the pillows. “Raise the bed.”

“You should go back to sleep,” he said.

“I can’t sleep until I know what happened to
Don and how he’s doing. He got hurt because of me and--” Jazz
couldn’t finish. Another crying jag threatened. She heaved deep
breaths to shake it off.

“Okay, Okay. Let me work this thing.” Papa
Elton found the right button.

The bed rose so that Jazz could see more of
the room. The obligatory white painted walls greeted her. To her
left, a window with closed white blinds kept out the sunlight.

“Where am I?” Jazz looked at Papa Elton.

“Our Lady of the Lake Hospital. They’ve
taken great care of you,” he replied.

“I can’t believe they let Don go home so
soon. Somebody should check on him,” Jazz said.

“Hmm.” MiMi glanced at Papa Elton who
cleared his throat. “His ex-wife took him to her house.”

“She seems nice.” Papa Elton shrugged when
MiMi shot him a “What the hell?” kind of look.

Jazz sighed. “Okay, so he’s not hurt that
bad if they let him go home. That’s good.”

“You’re taking the news he went home with
his ex well. I’d be jumping out of here to get my man,” MiMi
blurted. She shrugged when Papa Elton gave her a “Shut up” look.
Not that MiMi cared. “I’m just sayin’.”

“He’s not ‘my man’, MiMi. We’re... it’s
complicated. And no, I’m not gonna explain because it’s none of
your business,” Jazz said before words came from MiMi’s open mouth.
“Who shot Don?”

“Girl, bullets were flying. They caught one
of the guys that tried to attack y’all, the one that did the
shooting. The other two got away.” MiMi sat down in one of two
chairs near the bed.

“They determined that the bullet that hit
Don was police issue.” Papa Elton frowned. “The local NAACP is
having a field day talking about profiling. All three deputies were
white.”

“Humph, he needs to sue their butts off. So
were you two just out on a date or were you tracking down clues?
Channel 33 news reported that this might be a gang hit related to
your murder trial and--”

“I said
not now
, MiMi,” Papa Elton
broke in. Before he could say more a deep voice came from the
door.“Excuse me folks. I’m Chief Detective Armand Miller with the
Baton Rouge Police. This is Sergeant Evans.” Miller held up his ID
and nodded to his subordinate at the same time.

“Morning,” Evans said. His gaze swept the
room taking in details. He seemed most interested in MiMi’s shapely
legs extending from her blood red skirt.

“We need to talk to Ms. Vaughn. I checked
with her doctor, and she’s good with it,” Miller added before Papa
Elton could object.

“She’s banged up and traumatized,” MiMi
spoke instead, her smile aimed at Evans. “Maybe give her more time
to recover. Jazz was very upset about Detective Addison. Cried her
eyes out, poor thing.”

“I’m fine, MiMi,” Jazz said with force,
glaring at her. “I’m not falling apart. Don can take care of
himself.”

“Sure,” MiMi said with a sympathetic smile.
She glanced at the two detectives as if to say “She’s trying to be
brave.”

“After all she’s been through, MiMi is
right,” Papa Elton advised.

“I’m up for it,” Jazz said with
determination.

“Good. I’m afraid we need to do this in
private.” Miller tilted his head to one side as he looked at Papa
Elton and MiMi.

“She should have her lawyer here,” MiMi said
with a sideways glance at Papa Elton.

“We’re interviewing you as a victim. This
isn’t connected to your pending case,” Miller said smoothly.
“Excuse us please.”

Evans opened the door to reinforce the
invitation to leave. Jazz saw Willa and Mama Ruby in the hallway.
Both wore twin anxious expressions. She waved to reassure them.
Under the circumstances she could muster up a smile. Papa Elton and
MiMi left. Once the door whisked shut, Evans stood in front of
it.

“You gonna tell the reporters which idiot
cop shot one of his own? Y’all sure loved talking to the media
about
me
,” Jazz drawled.

Miller glanced at Evans seemingly as a
warning. The younger man pressed his lips together. Then Miller
turned his gaze back to Jazz. “Evans, go interview the family.”

“Sir?” Evans blinked at him.

“Just do it,” Miller said.

“Yes sir.” Evans went out.

Miller turned back to Jazz. “Tell me
everything, from the time you met Don for drinks until the shooting
started.”

“I didn’t meet Detective Addison for drinks.
He must have been following me as part of your investigation or
something. I sure as hell didn’t invite him,” Jazz said evenly.

“So you had no idea he was going to show up
at Grown Folks?” Miller took out a small notepad and pen.

“I just said so. I’m guessing those guys
decided to rob him or something. He looked like an out of place
bourgie guy looking for action.” Jazz glanced at Miller. “The place
was crowded but I spotted him. You better send him back to
undercover school.”

“Detective Addison wasn’t undercover, Ms.
Vaughn. Something I’m sure you know,” Miller said dryly.

“Do I? He’s your employee. Besides, don’t
ask me. Ask him.” Jazz relaxed against the pillow.

“I plan to real soon,” Miller shot back with
a shade of annoyance in his voice.

“My friend says his ex-wife picked him up.
Sounds like they’re getting back together soon. Another kink in
your story that he’s hooked up with me,” Jazz said mildly. “With
all that home cooking and tender loving care, it will be like the
old days.”

“Nyla is a good woman, and a fine mother.
That would be a good thing.” Miller wrote on the pad without
looking at her.

“Very sweet, but nothing to do with me.
Anyway, I went out the back way to shake him. Hell, can’t a girl
hang out with friends these days. Pissed me off. These guys must
have followed him out. That’s all I know.” Jazz looked at Miller
with a “my story and I’m sticking to it” expression.

“You’re saying those guys weren’t after you?
Funny coincidence,” Miller drawled.

“Hilarious,” Jazz said with a grunt.

Miller squinted at her as he shoved the
notepad and pen into an inside pocket of his coat. “Truth time, Ms.
Vaughn. Don and I go back a long way, so I know him well. He’s
trying to protect you for some crazy ass reason. . Don’t pull him
into danger if you care about him. Bad things seem to follow you.
He’s got kids, a career, and a future.”

“And I’m climbing up from the gutter to drag
him down, is that your point?” Jazz looked at him steadily.

“Cops get hooked on the adrenaline rush of
street life. You’re sexy, smart, and you talk a good game. Light
years away from the steady type of life Nyla could give him. He
understands you and your world. Nyla, well she can’t connect to the
dark crap we see every day on the job.” Miller wore a stone face.
“Leave him out of it.”