Devilish Details (6 page)

“Cedric and I got to talking while I was
waiting for your stubborn sister to make time for me Friday. Girl,
Willa had me out in the lobby for almost an hour. Can you believe
it? We’re family,” MiMi complained. “I’m like an aunt, no wait make
that step-mother, to Anthony and Mikayla.”

“Riiight,” Jazz drawled as she peered over
her cup. Only MiMi would look over the fact that she’d been
sleeping with Willa’s husband before the divorce was quite final,
and became his “Baby mama”.

“On the bright side though, I had time to
chat up Cedric. You think they’ve slept together yet? Dang, Willa
must have ice in her panties if she can be around that fine man
every day and...”

“Will you get back to the subject of
tracking down a big load of money?” Jazz cut in.

“Oh, yeah. We’ll talk about those two
later,” MiMi replied and went on without missing a beat. “Anyway, I
told them my friend Jason says the mayor’s office is on a big push
to clean up bad neighborhoods. Jason works in the city services
division, and he said Candy Girls is one place they’ve gotten
complaints about. He remembered it being mentioned after we cracked
Jack’s murder investigation.”

Jazz laughed. “We?”

MiMi ignored the dig. “So I mentioned it to
Cedric, you know giving him some inside gossip. That’s when he told
me that those two drug dealers used to do business with Filipe.
Somebody has taken over being the main supplier since Filipe went
to prison. Cedric has his sources. Did you know?”

“As a matter of fact I’ve got sources
myself,” Jazz tossed back.

“Reach out to Kyeisha through mutual
acquaintances and offer help. She might come to you and then you
can get a bit more information.” MiMi nodded like a bobble-head
doll.

“Kyeisha went to work in Lorraine’s little
dive on Forty-Sixth Street after she tried to stab me in the back.
She’s evil and not too bright, but she’s got sense enough to stay
outta my way.” Jazz slid from the stool and poured out the now cold
coffee left in her cup.

MiMi followed by washing it out, and then
washing the coffee pot. “. Now she’s in a tight spot she might need
you. What did you tell me about Lorraine? She’s not one for
loyalty. Now that Kyeisha is in trouble, Lorraine won’t help,
right?”

Jazz looked at the clock and saw it was
closing in on nine thirty. “I’ve got to get ready to open.”

“But wait a minute,” MiMi protested, wiping
her hands dry on a dish towel.

“Monday through Wednesday we depend on the
lunch crowd to make money. My cooks should be coming in another
thirty minutes.” Jazz’s cell phone played a popular tune at that
moment. She found it on the sofa and hit the speaker.

“Morning’ boss lady! I’m here. Got Pizzolato
Bros. delivering some food,” Rochelle said.

“I’m coming down to let you in.” Jazz ended
the call and walked to her bedroom down a short hallway. “I don’t
have time to be playing around with you.”

MiMi followed her. “ Trust me, I’m
serious.”

“Uh-huh.” Jazz grabbed a pair of leggings
draped over a chair and pulled them on. Then she dropped the robe,
grabbed a t-shirt from her closet and pulled it over her head. She
smoothed out the reddish blonde weave pulled into a long pony-tail.
She spun to face MiMi waving a forefinger in the air. “Look, give
up on that money. I’m staying away from trouble. That’s it. Now
will you get outta my way? Runnin’ in my bedroom like you live here
or something.”

MiMi jumped out of her path when Jazz
marched out of the bedroom. Then she trailed after Jazz still
making her case. “We can’t just wave bye-bye to that kind of money.
It belongs to me... us I mean.”

“Uh-huh. Go to work selling lipsticks and
let me get back to my grind,” Jazz said over her shoulder without
looking back. MiMi followed out, waiting patiently as Jazz locked
her door and went down the stairs.

“I’m the regional cosmetics and accessories
buyer. I supervise one employee, thank God, so I don’t have to
travel as much,” MiMi snapped. She chattered on.

“Yeah, whateva,” Jazz said. She jingled the
keys as a greeting to Rochelle and opened the door, still tuning
out MiMi’s litany of complaints. “Hey Ro-Ro.”

“Good mornin’,” Rochelle said with a grin
and looked at MiMi. “I said
good mornin’
.”

MiMi broke off in the middle of a sentence
and blinked at her. Then she smiled. “Excuse me, ma’am. How are
you?”

“I’m fine, thanks for askin’.” Rochelle
rolled her eyes when she turned her back to MiMi, and went into the
club.

“Goodbye, MiMi.” Jazz waved at her as a cue
to leave.

“At least promise to talk to Willa, girl.
Please. I’ll bet Filipe has millions stashed away.”

Jazz smacked her lips and then sighed as she
gazed off as if considering. She managed to keep from laughing
while MiMi stood holding her breath. MiMi had made good points
about tracking down the money. “Okay, I’ll talk to her. But let me
do it my way, and don’t be calling me every day asking about it.”
Jazz glared at her in warning.

“No, no, I won’t bother you. Oh thank you,
thank you.” MiMi grabbed Jazz in a hug.

“I’m serious, MiMi. Start stalking me and I
won’t say one word.”

MiMi made a cross on her chest. “I swear,
girl. I’m going to let you totally handle it. I better go. Look,
I’ll call you, no; you call me when you know something. Thank
you.”

“Yeah,” Jazz retorted.

“I gotta go. We have a sales meeting in
fifteen minutes. I’m going to get you samples of quality make-up
from some of the best brands, so you won’t have to keep wearing
that cheap stuff.” MiMi blew a kiss.

“What the hell you mean cheap?”

MiMi had already rushed off, balancing
expertly on three inch heels. She grinned and waved gaily once
inside her shiny Buick Enclave. “Bye, girl.”

“That heffa,” Jazz muttered and went
upstairs again.

Chapter 4

Hours later, Jazz sat on a small patio area
outside the club smoking and sipping from a can of cola. She needed
a break from the smell of fried chicken, fish, and fried onion
rings. A cooler with more soda and bottled water sat against the
wall for employees. Jazz kept it stocked by way of a small perk for
them. Cheap but solid lawn chairs and a couple of tables were
arranged under the awning.

With help from Chyna, Rochelle had served a
steady string of lunch customers from eleven thirty that morning
straight through to well after two o’clock. Shift workers from
local hospitals and plants got off from work to get food. Rochelle
had been right to convince Jazz that serving food was a good idea.
Jazz thought back to MiMi’s revelations about the Mayor going after
‘nuisance’ businesses. Having a strong customer base for a
restaurant would come in handy. Maybe she should be one-up on the
local politicians and close Candy Girls first. A new name and a new
start might work. Jazz smiled as she added another fall back to her
growing list of options. The sound of a powerful car engine rumbled
down the alley. Minutes later, she heard the solid thunk of a car
door shutting. Detective Addison strolled into view. She watched
him approach through the smoke from her cigarillo. When Addison was
two or three feet away, Jazz raised an eyebrow.

“I was waiting to see if you was a drug
dealer or a cop,” she said.

“Say what?” Addison eased his solid body
onto one of two wooden barstools.

“You got a 340 hp 5.7 liter Hemi V8. Am I
right? Two kinds of drivers need that kind of power to move fast;
folks trying to get away quick, and the folks trying to catch
‘em.”

Jazz crossed her legs and gazed up at him.
She tried to ignore her physical attraction to the nice hunk of
manhood before her. Detective Don Addison had the body of a
well-toned pro wrestler. Dimples gave him a killer smile. She
glanced off to blunt the double whammy effect. It helped, but the
tingle down her spine didn’t stop.

“Have a cola or some water,” Jazz said and
pointed to the cooler.

“Believe I will, thank you ma’am. You know
cars, too? Now if you tell me you follow football, I’m going to
arrest you for being the perfect woman,” he replied.

“I knew you’d find a trumped up charge to
put handcuffs on me,” Jazz said. She gave him a crooked smile.

“Nah, I’d never try to tie you up in any
way. Unless you like that kinda thing,” he said softly with a
twinkle in his coffee brown eyes.

“My, my, Detective Addison, the way you
talk. You’re going to make me blush.” Jazz couldn’t help but laugh
with him.

“When you let that ten foot high wall down,
we enjoy each other.”

“Yeah, well I’ve never had much luck with
authority figures, particularly cops. We didn’t meet the first time
under the best conditions,” Jazz said.

Addison’s expression turned serious as he
nodded. “You did the right thing helping us put Filipe Perez
away.”

“If you say so.” Jazz looked away when his
intense gaze unsettled her. “Thanks for listening when we told you
my nephew didn’t kill his step-daddy.”

“You’re welcome, Jazzmonetta,” Detective
Addison said.

A flash of pleasant heat joined the tingling
at the way his baritone voice made her full first name sound. Jazz
shifted in the chair as a familiar ache shot through her pelvis.
Damn cops always starting some kind of trouble, she thought. She
pushed away lustful images of Addison without his shirt, and every
other stitch of clothing. Jazz pulled smoke from the cigarillo and
let it out to calm her nerves.

“Of course, y’all made him a suspect in the
first place,” she wisecracked. “I can’t thank you for that
shit.”

Addison rolled with it and grinned at her.
“Hey, give us some credit. We put away the real murderer”

“ “So long to the asshole.”

“I’ll drink to that one,” Addison said. He
raised his can of iced tea and tapped it against Jazz’s can of
cola.

“So did another coincidence bring you this
way again?” Jazz emptied the last of her soda and tossed it into
the trash basket nearby.

“I talked to your former boss. Lorraine
Taylor would like nothing better than to see you go down. Doesn’t
matter what for, she just has you on her list. What’d you do to
her?” He cocked a dark eyebrow at her.

“She swears I stole Candy Girls out from
under her. Lorraine hating my guts is not breaking news, Detective.
She’s been telling the world for the last two years. I’d like to
see her hook me up to Kyeisha’s trouble.” “Oh believe me she tried.
She mentioned Cleavon and Brandon had done business with Filipe.
Dropped a few hints that maybe you were in business with them, and
you put Brandon up to robbing Cleavon.”Addison chuckled at Jazz’s
string of expletives in response. “I’m just telling you what she
said.”

“Let me guess. I’m trouble, don’t have a
loyal bone in my body, and would stab anybody in the back.”

“Yeah, with a few cuss words thrown in,” he
replied. “It’s obvious she’s doesn’t have any real info to track
their supplier.”

“Don’t be so fast. If Kyeisha keeps in touch
with anybody it would be Lorraine. They’re thick as thieves. Hell,
they are thieves. Lorraine knows more than she’s telling.” Jazz
smashed the smoldering remains of her cigarillo.

“We agree on that angle. I’m keeping a close
eye on Ms. Lorraine for sure. Be careful though. You’re building up
quite a mean collection of enemies. Filipe will be out in about
four years.” Addison rested his elbows on his thighs.

“Filipe thinks I didn’t stick by him, and
for that he’s pissed. He doesn’t think I turned him though. His pal
talking his head off helped me on that one. I knew he would,” Jazz
said, referring to the thug Addison and his partner arrested before
they caught Filipe.

“Just don’t keep walking so close to the
edge. These people you’ve been hanging with don’t play.”

“Yes, mother,” Jazz wisecracked. “Hey,
you’ll find Cleavon soon enough. He doesn’t have much money or many
places to hide. Tracking his dumb ass should be easy.”

“Truth, except we’re not even sure Cleavon
was the shooter now. There were at least seven people in the house,
and most of them were armed. We found five handguns and an
automatic rifle.” Addison heaved a sigh. “At least we got all those
killing machines off the street.”

“Good luck getting any of ‘em to talk.” Jazz
said, and started to go on but stopped short of thinking out
loud.

She gazed down the alley that gave her a
view of the neighborhood. In other circumstances she might have
given dark, handsome and sizzling hot a nudge. Addison had brains
to go with that nice brawn. All he needed was a few “what ifs” or
sly hints that sounded like offhand conversation. But she had more
of an interest in where her tips might lead.

“We’ll see,” he replied and finished his
tea.

Jazz glanced at him sharply. “You be careful
on them mean streets.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll do that.” Addison
smiled at her. “Back to Lorraine...”

“Lorraine’s great-uncle left his place to
her mama. When she died Lorraine took over, but she didn’t have any
business sense. She didn’t pay her property taxes or payroll taxes.
Name a mistake, she made it. I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t
listen. So I paid up the taxes and got the buildings and land.”

“Not every day you can find solid real
estate. Plus the neighborhood is turning around. Smart move,” he
said with a nod.

“Hey, I pay attention. Lorraine thought I
dropped the cash so she could have the business back, and I’d have
a job.” Jazz barked a laugh. “Ain’t that crazy? Why would I pay
Lorraine’s debt to be her underpaid employee? C’mon now.”

“I’m guessing she didn’t offer you any money
then.” Addison laughed hard when Jazz glared at him. “Gotcha.”

Jazz crossed her arms. “Kyeisha came to work
for me. Come to find out she’s snitchin’ to Lorraine. Not only
that, Kyeisha leaving the kitchen dirty, putting dead bugs around
the place, and then Lorraine would call the health inspectors. I
bounced her lyin’ ass outta here hard.”