Love Trumps Game (19 page)

B
runo had one last ace up the hole, but the timing wasn't right. He listened to Topps yelling for the kids to come out. Brandon was quick to show up. He ran to his father, and hugged him like he hadn't seen him in years.

“Daddy, I knew you would come for me.”

Hattie couldn't believe that boy.
Little traitor.

“That's my little nigga.” Topps rubbed his head playfully. “Where's yo' sister? Go get her ass now. We'll be leavin' soon.”

“Yeah.” Zoot grinned. “Tell her to get herself on in here, so we can get this party goin'.”

Topps snapped at him, “Man, shut the hell up!”

Zoot turned the gun on him. “Nah, nigga. You shut the hell up! Now toss that piece on the floor.”

“Man, what the fuck you think you doin'?” Topps sneered over at him.

“Looks like I'm 'bout to clean house, that's what.” Zoot waited for him to toss the gun to the floor. “Don't make me have to pop yo' ass first. What? You think I forgot about that little episode you pulled at the motel? Hell nah, nigga. You punked the wrong nigga this time. For real.”

Topps dropped the gun to the floor. “You might as well shoot my ass now 'cause you one dead man once you leave here. I got too many soldiers I can call.”

“Oh, don't worry,” Zoot assured Topps with a nasty sneer. “You can be the first. You crazy-ass mutherfucker! Thought I didn't know about all the cash in the back of your car, huh? I figured, why just have some of it when I can have it all. It's gotta be some cash up in this muther, too. It's all about timing, my nigga, and this is perfect timing.”

Brandon came up behind Zoot holding a gun on his father and sprang into action. “Don't shoot my daddy. Don't you shoot him!” With all his might, he pushed Zoot, and the gun went off but missed. Topps was on Zoot in a flash, kicking the gun from his hand. It slid across the nylon carpet.

The kids screamed. Hattie screamed. Bruno tried to get up but the shattered bone in his leg made it impossible. He yelled for someone to get the dropped gun, then put fingers to his mouth and whistled loud through the house. In no time a large black Rottweiler was at his side. “Sic him, boy! Get him!”

Growling and snarling the dog went straight to Zoot, attacking him. Topps scrambled up and out of the way, barking orders to Brandon. “Get the damn gun!”

Fearful of being disobedient, Brandon ran for the weapon. It was heavy in his trembling hand. His father had taught him how to use it. He could shoot it, but shoot at what?

Zoot's scream of agony pierced the interior. He couldn't get away from the strong animal, but finally managed to get to his feet, running from it. The beast was right behind him.

Hattie screamed for Brandon to give her the gun. “Bring it here, Brandon. Give Nanny the gun!”

“Boy, you listen to me,” Topps warned. “You give that gun to her and I'll tear you a new behind. You shoot her! Shoot her now!”

Tears came to Brandon's eyes. “Daddy, I'm scared.” He aimed the gun at Hattie.

“Brandon, you listen to me.” Hattie knew she had to make him see the truth, that his father had bad intentions. “You don't want to shoot your Nanny. I love you, Brandon. I love you very much, and you know it's true.” Hattie was on her feet ready to walk over to him, but Topps charged in Brandon's direction with hell in his eyes.

“Little nigga, when I tell you to do something, you do it. I said, shoot her ass!” Topps reached out to grab Brandon's shaking hand. Hattie ran up and tried to stop him. To her surprise, Raynita ran up and bit Topps' leg hard. Pain took Topps' mind off the struggle, giving Hattie the strength to take possession of the gun.

“You little bitch!” Topps screamed at Raynita. “Just like your damn mama! I'll slap the black off yo' ass!”

“Don't you dare touch her!” Hattie aimed the gun at him. “Brandon, you and your sister go to the room and close the door.”

Traumatized, both kids acted like they were in a trance.

“I said, go to the bedroom and close the door. Now!” She waited for them to leave the room.

Topps stood up smirking. He didn't look like a man that was afraid to die. “What now, bitch? What? You think I'm scared of you 'cause you have the gun?”

“I want you to leave. Leave now while you have a chance.” She couldn't stop shaking.

“You must be crazy. Shoot me 'cause I'm not leaving without my son.” Topps stepped closer.

“Please…don't make me do this.”

“What? Kill a nigga?” Topps stepped closer. “Christians can't kill. Remember? Ain't that what you supposed to be, a so-called Christian?” He stepped closer. The second Hattie turned her attention to look over at Bruno, who seemed half unconscious, Topps charged her.

“Bitch, I'll kill you!”

Hattie squeezed the trigger and Topps went down.

“Oh my God!” She dropped the gun and ran to Bruno's side. Kneeling down, she held his head up. “I'll call an ambulance.”

Bruno's eyes opened. “Wipe your prints from the gun first and give it to me.”

Hattie did like she was instructed.

Bull walked back into the room with blood covering his face.

“Come here, boy. Over here,” Bruno called to him. The highly obedient dog went to his master. “Sit.”

To Hattie, the dog's bloody face was a gruesome sight, but she felt like she could let her guard down. It was over.

“Thank you, sweet Jesus.” Tears streamed down her face.

Feeling a little better, Bruno was able to get on his feet despite the searing pain in his leg and back. After cleaning off Hattie's and Brandon's prints from the gun, he placed a call to the police department. “You take my van and go to a motel room for a few days. Call me after that. And don't worry about a thing.”

“But I can't just leave you…”

“Hattie, please do as I say. I can handle the rest.”

Reluctantly, she collected her things, took the kids and left.

“
O
kay, Mr. Kelly, where the heck are we going?” Hattie was smiling over at Bruno, but the man kept his attention on the highway.

“You'll see.”

“You know I don't like surprises, so tell me.”

“Woman, relax. It's a beautiful day and I thought it would be nice to take a long ride. You know, get out of the desert for a while.”

“Yeah, it is beautiful.” Hattie gazed from her window up into the sky. The air was warm and there was not one cloud to be seen. It was three weeks after the showdown with Topps and she thanked the good Lord every day that it was over. The man that had been terrorizing her was dead. “You guys okay back there?” Angling around, she regarded the two busybodies.

“Yes, ma'am,” Brandon replied as he played quietly with a hand-held video game. “I'm on level four now, Nanny.”

“Nanny's big boy. That's good.” She studied his face for a moment. Hattie had thought that Brandon would be traumatized after the shooting incident that claimed his father's life. He wasn't, at least not that she could tell. After explaining to Brandon that his father was in a deep sleep until the doctors could fix him, the child seemed receptive of the explanation. Resilient. That's what kids are today, Hattie mused. Maybe it was because of all the violence kids watch on television. Should I feel guilty? It was a
question she sometimes asked herself. Her answer was no. She felt justified, not to mention blessed. She was blessed that it was over.

“Nanny, may I please have some water?”

“Yes, Miss Nita, you certainly may.” Hattie removed one of several bottles of water in the cooler on the front seat and passed it to her.

“Thank you, Nanny.”

“You're welcome, sweetie.” Turning back around, she looked over at a sly-looking Bruno. Something about the man tugged at her heart. He had been hired to protect her, but in actuality he'd done much more by wiping her and Brandon's fingerprints from the gun that shot Topps Jackson. Bruno's fingerprints were the only ones found on the weapon, along with Topps'. After a short investigation, the law deemed the incident justifiable. Two men broke into Bruno's house to rob him and were killed. One was shot by Bruno, one was attacked by his guard dog, Bull. “And what's with you and Myra and the secret phone calls?”

Bruno chuckled. “You are so suspicious, you know that?”

“Shouldn't I be? Tell me what's going on,” Hattie persisted.

“Woman, I told you, Myra was keeping me posted about your house. She says the repairs are coming along nicely and they're almost finished.”

“And she couldn't call and tell me that news?”

“Hattie, I'm telling you what she said. You were the one that told her to call me with any news. Remember?” Grinning, he shook his head. “Jeepers, so suspicious.”

“Humph. That was before,” Hattie confirmed. “Things are different now. Things can go back to normal. No more hiding out. The kids can get back in school. The only thing missing is Nee…” A lump in her throat cut her words off. Thinking of Neema
brought tears to her eyes. It had been weeks now and her child's body still hadn't been found, but she knew that Topps Jackson had done something to her daughter.
Lord, help me.

“It's gonna be okay,” Bruno said, seeing her mood change.

“It makes me so mad,” Hattie balled her fist. “I've called that silly detective so much that he's avoiding my calls now. I guess a young, missing black woman is no big deal.”

“Don't talk like that,” Bruno soft-chided. “I'm sure they did what they could to try'n locate your daughter. Maybe with so many people going missing every year and not enough resources, it's hard.”

“I know one thing, when I'm settled back in my house, I'm hiring a private detective. I don't care how much it costs, I'm hiring one.”

“I hear you. I know just the right one that can help you, too.”

“Humph. Might even hire the services of a psychic. A good one. Maybe that blonde woman that be on Montel's show all the time. What's her name? Brown something.”

“Sylvia Browne.” Bruno could tell that she was serious with her spoken plans.

“Yeah. Her. I'ma find out what happened to my child if it's the last thing I do on God's good earth.”

Hattie reached up and pulled down the passenger-side mirror to check her hair. She'd paid the same salon a visit two days ago and she was still looking good. Maybe it was her imagination, but a couple of times she thought she saw Bruno looking at her like he was…well, like he was lustfully checking her out. Goodness, when was the last time she had a man do that?

“I would do the same thing if I were you.” Bruno put his signal on and merged into the freeway's diamond lane. “I heard that Miss Browne's services are not cheap.”

“I don't care. I need closure. I don't wanna go to my grave wondering what really happened to my child.”

“I understand.”

After two hours of driving, they exited the freeway on Pacific Coast and took the scenic drive headed west before finally turning right onto Jasmine Court. Two more right turns and Bruno pulled his van into a driveway behind a brand-new black Toyota Camry.

Bruno checked the address. “This looks like the place.”

“Who lives here?” Hattie asked, admiring the modern, two-story house with neatly trimmed boxwood and red roses in the front. The house was beige with dark-brown windows. Judging by the surrounding homes, she could tell it was a well-maintained neighborhood.

“Some good friends of mine. Haven't seen them in a while.” Bruno climbed out, hurried around to open the door for Hattie, then helped the kids out. “Don't worry. They're good people. You'll love them.”

Raynita wanted to know, “Nanny, who lives here?”

“Sweetie, didn't you hear what Bruno said? Some friends of his.”

“I like this house,” Brandon announced. “It's the bomb.”

They walked to the massive wooden door where Bruno rang the doorbell. In no time a blue-eyed man was swinging the door open. He was attired in short khaki pants, a Hawaiian-print shirt of yellow and red and wore brown sandals. He looked to Hattie like a tourist on vacation.

“You're early.” John West smiled, opening the door wider for everyone to enter. “Come on in. Make yourself at home. She'll be down in a minute.”

She?
Hattie gave both Bruno and John West a curious look. The two didn't seem all that friendly to her, but inside the house was gorgeous with a marble entrance, beautiful furniture and a
magnificent wrought-iron stair railing. She caught the scent of something good cooking, like a pot roast with plenty of garlic. It smelled similar to the way she cooked pot roast with lots of garlic and some cilantro. “Ummm. Smells like somebody knows their way around a kitchen.”

John West yelled up the stairs for someone to hurry up and come down. “She's such a diva. Loves to stay in the mirror.”

I know this negro man didn't drive me two hours to meet some hoochie girlfriend of his.
Hattie's happy mood was threatening to leave as her blood pressure was slowly rising. She folded her arms, feeling a mad attitude coming on. Or was it possibly some jealousy?

Finally, someone was coming slowly down the stairs. From her vantage point, Hattie saw the feet descend, then two thin legs in black leggings. The body was next, and then she was looking at a vision that almost took her breath away. She screamed as she ran over and hugged her. “Ohmygawd! Neema! My baby!”

“Mama!” Both Raynita and Brando rushed over to hug her. “Mama, where you been? We missed you.”

The joy of reunion was noisy, but to Bruno and John West, a wonderful sight as they stood back, watching. For a second Bruno got a little teary eyed. It hadn't been the easiest thing keeping the big secret from Hattie. Several times he had to talk Myra out of jeopardizing the big surprise.

She was so caught up with joy, Hattie barely noticed Myra coming out the kitchen wearing a cute apron and casually announcing, “Welcome, family. Dinner is ready to be served. Let's eat.”

“Myra? Oh my goodness.” Hattie couldn't control the tears flowing. It was all too much. “How in the world did you keep this from me?”

“Trust me, Mama, it wasn't easy, but I wanted it to be a surprise. Are you surprised?”

More tears confirmed it. “Thank you.”

“Actually, Mama, the one who made all this possible is Mr. West here. He was the one that found Neema after her car accident. He nursed her back to health and kept her safe.”

Hattie went to John West and gave him a kiss to each cheek. “I really can't thank you enough,” she said, giving him the best hug she could muster.

“I would do it all over again if I had to.” John West smiled. “She's like a daughter to me.”

After an hour more of sharing Joy, Neema excused herself to go back upstairs claiming that she need to take something for pain. Since the accident she suffered from bouts of neck and shoulder pain.

“Sweetie, take your time,” Hattie assured her. “We'll be right here.”