Devilish Details (32 page)

Shadows lengthened outside as the sun began
to set. The only sound was the rustle of paper as each of them
continued to read. Jazz tossed an old ledger book back into the
box. She glanced outside to see some of the lights coming on as
sunshine faded.

“Nothing. A waste of time.” Jazz stood and
massaged the small of her back.

“There are about eight more of ‘em.” Byron
picked up the notebook Jazz had thrown down. He took a marker and
wrote on it. “I’m marking the ones we looked at already.”

“I say we all get cleaned up and get some
dinner. My treat,” Jazz said. She tapped her on the shoulder when
MiMi didn’t reply. “Hey, you must not have heard me. I’m paying for
your meal at a nice restaurant.”

“Umm-hum,” MiMi answered, her eyes still on
the page of a ledger.

“Something is wrong. She jumps up at the
sound of somebody picking up the tab,” Jazz wisecracked to Byron.
He chuckled in response.

“I know you said Lorraine isn’t very bright,
but it’s strange she had so many records.” MiMi looked up at
Jazz.

“Lorraine isn’t educated, but she’s
definitely smart, streetwise at least.” Jazz squinted. “I was wrong
to think she was dumb. Look how she set me up.”

“She musta stayed up nights plotting.” Byron
reached for another notebook.

“Yeah.” Jazz felt gloom descending on her
like the dark outside. “My lawyer seems to think he can fight the
evidence, but lots of folks go to prison on less than what they
have on me.”

“Hey, you gotta stay positive,” Byron
replied.

“Hush, I’m concentrating.” MiMi waved a hand
at him before he could go on.

“S’cuse us. You need to be nice cause he’s
your ride outta here,” Jazz muttered.

Byron shrugged and whispered, “Maybe she’s
on to something.”

He laughed when Jazz made a face. Byron got
to work. He carried the box of loose papers Jazz wanted to keep to
the Tahoe. Jazz scanned the last few notebooks without much
interest. When Byron returned, he and Jazz whispered about what he
could throw out. Byron marked items for a yard sale. He moved
between the SUV and the storage area. Jazz almost fell when MiMi
whooped.

“Lorraine or somebody came up with a code
and a cipher. Look, these look like simple phrases about beer and
stuff, but there’s a pattern. And, on the inside back cover is
another code. It’s written in tiny letters so anybody glancing
wouldn’t notice. But I did.” MiMi flashed a big grin of
victory.

“What? Give me that.” Jazz took the grease
stained notebook MiMi waved at her. “This is about frozen onion
rings for happy hour. She used to have it on Wednesday to get more
business.”

MiMi grabbed another notebook from the box.
“No, no, no. There is a definite pattern. Each one has a list of
numbers, then maybe three paragraphs after them.”

“What I see is a bunch of bad handwriting
about appetizers or invoices she has to pay and who owes her
money,” Jazz replied. Still she gazed at the pages intently.
“Lorraine had the sense to create a code?”

“Wrong question, girl.
Why
did she
use a code?” MiMi said.

Jazz was about to answer when they heard
Byron talking loudly. He kept up a steady stream of banter. As his
voice got closer, Jazz realized he wasn’t talking on his cell
phone. She heard another voice. Byron came in and put a finger to
his lips seconds before Tyretta followed. She jogged to keep up
with his long-legged stride.

“Look who showed up to help us clean out the
storage unit,” Byron boomed. His gaze shifted to MiMi. He gave her
a slight nod.

“Hey, Rochelle said something about y’all
coming over here to look around.” Tyretta scanned the inside of the
unit. Then she looked at Byron. “I thought it was your day off.
Damn, you racking up brownie points with the boss, huh?”

Chapter 18

“Well we...” MiMi started but blinked in
surprise when Jazz stepped in front of her.

Jazz put both hands on her hips. “That’s
more than I can say about you. Hell, these days I’m surprised you
show up when you’re supposed to.”

“There you go gettin’ all smart when I’m
being nice. Hell it’s almost dark. Must be something important.”
Tyretta started to go in the storage unit, but was blocked when
Byron pushed a large rocker in front of her.

“Nothin’ but some fancy decorations we
decided to keep. We’re gonna have a yard sale. You want this rocker
and that table?” Byron said.

“Huh?” Tyretta wore a puzzled frown. She
glanced around the interior.

“They’re just dusty is all. I got a cousin
who could refinish ‘em for you cheap,” Byron said. He went on to
point out other items.

“I’m gonna load these New Year’s Eve
decorations. Some of this stuff is pretty nice. Right, MiMi? Come
on; help me. This box isn’t heavy,” Jazz said as she gave MiMi the
eye.

“Wha... I mean, yeah, for once Lorraine
showed some taste,” MiMi replied, her voice almost too loud to be
credible.

Jazz had taped up the box containing the
notebooks. She motioned for MiMi to hide the one she held under an
arm. Byron distracted Tyretta, though she kept trying to glance at
Jazz and MiMi. Once Jazz and MiMi got to Byron’s SUV, MiMi seemed
about to burst with questions.

“You’re suspicious of her? But she’s been
your bestie for years,” MiMi whispered as she glanced over her
shoulder.

“We’ll talk later,” Jazz whispered back.
Tyretta’s voice got closer. She shoved the boxes back into the SUV
so that they weren’t easily visible. Then she used an old blanket
to cover them.

Byron walked ahead of Tyretta carrying a
small round table. “I got plenty of room in the SUV. I’ll bring
this to your house tomorrow if you want.”

“Yeah, okay. Sure you don’t need me to help
unpack when you get to Candy Girls? I don’t have to hurry home.”
Tyretta looked from Jazz to MiMi, then at Byron, then back to
Jazz.

“ I’m too tired to look through dusty old
knick-knacks tonight. But thanks anyway.” Jazz leaned against a
stack of boxes.

“Maybe I’ll just hang with y’all a minute.”
Tyretta wore a slight frown as she gazed at them.

“I’m going to drop them off and go home,”
Byron replied.

“I have to run, too.” MiMi waved goodbye at
Tyretta and got into the Tahoe.

Jazz yawned as she got in the front
passenger seat. “I’m gonna lay on my sofa and not move until
morning. See you later, Ty.” Byron was already behind the wheel.
“It’s dark out here and ain’t nobody around. We’ll wait ‘til you
get in your car. Can’t be too careful.”

Tyretta blinked at them. “Yeah. Right.
Okay.”

She glanced at them over her shoulder as she
walked to her Ford Fusion. Tyretta got in, waved, and drove off.
Jazz watched her nervously, sure Tyretta would follow them.
Instead, the Ford eventually left the four lane street heading away
from their direction. Byron and MiMi sighed at the same time Jazz
did.

“How did she know to come here?” Jazz
blurted out.

“There’s some cooking equipment in a couple
of boxes Rochelle helped me sort through. She knows I rented the
unit.” Byron hunched his shoulders. “Sorry, boss. I didn’t think it
needed to be a secret back then.”

“Neither would I if I’d known.” Jazz chewed
a fingernail.

“Stop messing up your manicure,” MiMi said
absentmindedly. “I’m confused. Why are you suspicious of Tyretta
again?”

“Byron thinks she’s acting funny. I was
skeptical, but then she showed up.” Jazz rubbed her forehead. The
thud of a stress headache took root.

MiMi reached across the seat and placed a
hand on Jazz’s shoulder. “You’ve got us.”

“Damn right,” Byron rumbled without taking
his eyes from the road.

Jazz blinked back tears and lifted her head.
“Thanks.”

* * *

At ten o’clock the next morning, Jazz sat in
Willa’s office. Cedric would join them later because of a meeting
across town with a client. Phillips joined them via video
conference. His solemn expression on Willa’s twenty-five inch
computer monitor did not reassure them. Jazz felt as if her body
would fly into pieces from the tension building in her muscles. Her
fingernails pressed into the leather on the chair’s arms.

“Is it good or bad that the judge insists on
moving the hearing date up?” Willa asked. She gazed steadily at
Jazz with concern reflected in her brown eyes.

“It’s a scheduling shuffle. Don’t read
anything into it. But I have a bigger concern. The DA has a witness
that you assaulted and tied up Ms. Lathers less than a week before
she was murdered. True or not?” Phillips shot the words out.

“They left the part out about her bringing a
gun and pointing it at me,” Jazz said. “Tell me what happened blow
by blow. Don’t leave out anything,” he replied curtly.

Jazz shifted in her chair feeling like it
was a literal hot seat. Still she told him everything, including
giving Kyeisha pills to make her sleepy. When she finished, there
was silence.

“It was self-defense,” Jazz said in her loud
grumpy tone.

“I’ll argue it’s hearsay. Lorraine Taylor
says an employee at her bar claims Ms. Lather’s told her. Ms.
Taylor never got a chance to ask her about it.”

“Well that’s something,” Willa replied. Yet
her frown of worry didn’t go away.

“I don’t like surprises, Ms. Vaughn.”
Phillips’ frowned at them.

“There’s nothing more. We promise,” Willa
answered before Jazz spoke.

After they discussed more details about the
upcoming court hearing, the lawyer ended the conference . Willa
rocked back and forth in her executive chair. Kay, her executive
assistance, came in with a box of donuts. She checked that they had
fresh coffee. Noticing the grim expressions of the sisters, she
made as little sound as possible and left.

“He didn’t say it was all bad,” Willa
said.

“Only if the judge rules it’s hearsay. We
need to find out who beat and tortured her.” “How much sleep did
you get last night?” Willa got up and poured a cup of coffee.

Jazz waved it away when Willa offered it to
her. “Two hours. Maybe. I Three of my friends turned into enemies
overnight. Shit.”

Willa nodded, but didn’t respond. She put a
donut on a large paper napkin and sat down again. She ate, sipped,
and ate more donut. Minutes ticked by as they both settled on
thinking through facts. For a time, only the distant ringing of the
office phones broke the silence.

“Listen, I...”

“Don’t say it,” Jazz broke in.

“Say what?” Willa licked donut glaze from
one thumb.

“They weren’t my friends. You tried to warn
me about the kind of people I was running with, etc.” Jazz looked
at the coffee pot, but didn’t move at first. Then she got up and
poured the strong brew into a mug. “What the hell. One more cup
won’t make a difference. This isn’t what’s keeping me awake
anyway.”

“You’re grown, girl. I wasn’t going to
lecture you,” Willa said.

“That’s never stopped you before,” Jazz
retorted.

Her big sister ignored the dig. “Besides,
not everyone in your crowd is the same. Look at Rochelle, Chyna,
and Lilly. Byron is tops. I’d hire him any day of the week.”

Jazz wagged a forefinger at her. “Hands off
my second in command.”

After more seconds of silence, Jazz got up
to walk around the office. She gazed out of the fourth floor window
at traffic on the busy city street below. Then she sat back down
again. Not that she paid attention to her surroundings. Jazz
continued to mentally turn over facts in her head. She snapped her
fingers causing Willa to jump.

“When Kyeisha came to my house,” Jazz
said.

“You mean the time you tied her up?” “She
had a gun. Everybody seems to forget she had a damn
gun
on me
,” Jazz snarled.

“You drugged her and used a disabled man’s
wheelchair to dump her over at Lorraine’s place,” Willa continued
mildly.

Jazz glowered at her. “Shut up and let me
finish.”

“Good thing she woke up confused and
couldn’t get her story straight. But finish your thought,” Willa
said.

“What if Kyeisha wanted to make a deal with
me? She kinda implied that she would cut Cleavon out of any money
we made. What if that included Lorraine’s gangsta sons?” Jazz
blinked at Willa waiting for her reaction.

Willa frowned as she seemed to work through
her theory. “But the youngest was killed, and the older two are in
prison for a long time to come.”

“Lots of guys continue to operate while on
the inside,” Jazz countered. “Lorraine could be holding things
down, keeping him and his gang informed. Lorraine or Cleavon found
out. If they think I told her something...” Jazz snapped her
fingers again.

“They tried torturing her into talking.
But... Good Lord, Jazz,” Willa whispered and stared at Jazz
wide-eye.

Jazz nodded. A chill went down her back.
“She couldn’t tell them anything because there was nothing to tell.
Phillips said we could argue Kyeisha came to me for help. Maybe she
did.”

Willa went to her desk. “She sure didn’t
drive. I don’t see her walking very far with those injuries.”

“ “What are you doing?”

Willa tapped the keys of her computer. “I’m
pulling up a map around Candy Girls. I’ll...”

“Good morning,” Cedric said from the open
door. He came in seconds later. “Y’all look quite intense.”

“Okay, here’s my theory,” Jazz blurted out.
“Kyeisha wasn’t brought to my place all beat up to frame me. She
somehow got away after being tortured to warn me or hide. And I
know what you’re going to say. I’m thinking she had help.”

Cedric rubbed his jaw. “I don’t know who
would have the nerve after what they did to her.”.

“Maybe this person only made Kyeisha
think
he was helping her to get more information. He plans
to get the information for himself,” Jazz said.