No Home Training (6 page)

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Authors: Ms. Michel Moore

BOOK: No Home Training
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Detectives
“There's another call for us!” Malloy grabbed his jacket off the hook. “The officers on duty said they have four fatalities.”
“Another four?”
“Yeah, Kendrick. And they also said two of them would be of particular interest to our case.”
“Good, maybe this is the break we need!”
When the detectives arrived at the crime scene, which was roped off with yellow tape, a small crowd of onlookers had gathered. The news cameras were rolling and investigators were conducting door-to-door questioning of all the neighbors.
“What you got?” Malloy put on rubber gloves and pulled back the sheet on one of the victims on the side of the house. “Any ID on this one?”
“No, but I'm quite sure his prints and the other victim on the grass are in our system,” a homicide detective spoke up. “But the other two fatalities don't need identifying.”
Leaning over pulling the sheet off the other body, Malloy was shocked. “Well, I'll be damned! It's Boz! One of Storm's men!”
“What did you say?” Kendrick got closer with his notepad in hand. “The bouncer from the club?”
“Yeah, one and the same.” Malloy covered the corpse back up wondering what really went down earlier.
“And if you think that's something, I advise both you guys to go take a gander in the back hall closet.” The homicide officer pointed to the house. “It's a real sight to see!”
Being vigilant so as not to disturb the integrity of the scene the detectives walked through the sea of forensic officers and were surprised to see Royce, who was still regarded by many law officials as a major player in the game, dead as a doorknob with one apparent gunshot wound straight through the head.
“Live by the gun. Die by the gun!” Malloy taunted as him as his partner headed back to the station to figure out their next move.
Lost Friends . . .
The ride back to pick up the car from the place they had left it was a somber one. Now one more man, a good friend no less, was lost to the senseless war Paris and Kenya had started. Not knowing what exactly to say or do next, the brothers made the switch and headed over to one of O.T.'s female friend's houses to shower and get changed into the extra clothes that were in the trunk. Just in case the police were at his condo, Storm didn't want or need to take any chances. He knew they had to lay low.
Realizing that it was going to be extra hot at Boz's house, Storm had the female drive over to there to explain to Boz's wife about the tragedy that happened before the cops got there to deliver the dreadful blow. He had the chick reassure his wife and kids that he'd handle everything and they'd never ever want for jack shit. Not that it would bring Boz's wife any comfort, but at that point, there was nothing else he could say or do. Even through all her grief, Storm and O.T. knew she was a true trooper and wouldn't say nothing to the cops about who her husband had left with.
“It was that little punk Marco.” O.T. paced the floor wanting immediate retaliation.
“How you know for sure?” Storm's body trembled from anger as he drank straight from a pint of Wild Irish Rose, which was the only thing the project chick had in her small apartment.
“Man, I saw those yellow stank mc-nasty dreads swinging around when I looked back at the house.” O.T. hated that he had left the front door to chase those other fools down the block. “I thought Boz had the nigga!”
“You know what?”
“Dawg, please.” O.T. took the bottle from his brother killing the last little corner off. “I already know! Marco gotta die!”
“Fuck his daddy, his mother, his bitch, and his firstborn!” Storm ranted as he reminisced about all the times his boy Boz had his back and had held him down.
Even when O.T. was doing his own thang nuttin' up out in the streets, acting a straight idiot, Boz stood by his side. If nothing else before he went to his grave he promised himself he'd avenge Boz's death.
Chapter 9
Reality Check
Kenya
Making herself a tuna fish sandwich on wheat bread, Kenya settled back down and read three more chapters of her novel before putting it away for the night. As the hands of the clock slowly moved, she thought about what Storm wanted her to do. It wasn't that it was so difficult to carry out; it was she was still pissed at him for choosing that baby over her. And in her way of thinking, why should she help him put food in that kid's mouth, even if it was technically her niece or nephew?
As she schemed on how to get him back on her trail the telephone rang. “Hello.”
“Hi, Kenya, can we talk?”
“About what, London?”
“Is this how it's going to be between me and you the rest of our lives?”
“Um, is you still having my man's baby?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Well, answer the question.” Kenya wasn't letting up. “Is you still having his baby?”
“Yes,” London firmly replied.
“Then, yeah, I guess it is gonna be like that!” Kenya slammed the phone down on the coffee table and went back to devising a plan to get Storm back on her jock. Soon she was fast asleep on the couch.
Ring, ring, ring. Kenya was awakened the next morning by the annoying sound of the phone. “Yeah, hello.”
Finding out it was Tangy calling collect, she accepted the charges. Filling her in pertaining to the last time she'd visited with Paris, Kenya headed upstairs to ask Storm why he hadn't woke her up when he came in the night before. By the time she got to the top and turned into their room seeing the bed hadn't been slept in, she hit the roof.
“What the hell! Who this nigga think I am!”
“What's wrong?” Tangy speculated like she could really help Kenya from behind bars. “What's going on? Is everything okay?”
“This motherfucker ain't even come home!” Kenya's heart pounded as she went to look out the front window to see if she saw Storm's car in the driveway. “I swear I'm done with his ass.”
Tangy took that as her cue and cruelly added fuel to the fire. “Storm just like that grimy-ass no-good brother of his. They probably somewhere lying up with some hoes!”
“Bye, Tangy!” Kenya hung up on her not wanting to hear that dumb shit and dialed Storm's cell phone. On the first ring he answered.
“Hey, Kenya.”
“Where the fuck are you?”
“I'm with my brother.”
“Oh yeah?” she hissed. “And some bitches I assume?”
“What is you talking about now?” Storm barely mumbled.
“Why didn't you come home?”
“What?”
“You heard me! Why ain't you come home?”
“Haven't you watched the news?”
“No,” Kenya conceded going to turn on the television to see what was happening. “Why?”
Storm sighed. “Boz was killed last night.”
“What?”
“Yeah, and Royce and two other cats, but I'll tell you about it later. Me and O.T. out in the projects.”
“Okay, I'll see you when you get here.”
Kenya hung up the phone and was in shock as she sat on the edge of the bed waiting for the newscast to come on. Tears started to stream down her face as she thought about Boz being gone. When Storm was missing, he was the one who held the fort down. He was Alley Cats' backbone. Finally seeing the news updates breaking report on the quadruple homicide, it all hit home. Wiping her face with tissue Kenya sadly then started to wonder what in the hell Boz's wife was gonna do now with all those kids she'd have to raise on her own.
Damn life was much too short. She thought, as she made the decision to stop fighting Storm and try to help him, that could've been him lying dead on the side of that house.
Detectives
“Well it seems as if we've got a suspect for the four murders.” Malloy smiled elated that a break in the case came so soon.
“What's the latest?” Kendrick poured his first cup of coffee.
Malloy then stood up heading over to do the same. “Some geezer said he looked out his window and saw a young guy with, get this, long yellow ropes in his head hop his fence. He's on his way down now.”
“No, he didn't! Is he sure? It was dark.”
“Yeah, I thought about that too. But the old man has bright motion lights that illuminates damn near the whole neighborhood whenever you step foot on his property.” Malloy laughed. “Shit, matter of fact the city has ticketed him repeatedly ordering him to remove the high-voltage lighting. So if he said he saw a kid with yellow ropes in his head and is willing to take time out and look at mug shots, I'm going with it!”
“Well it seems like we might as well go ahead and alert the fugitive apprehension team.” Kendrick started thinking ahead. “The only one with yellow ropes.” He laughed, mocking the old man's description of dreadlocks.
“It's Royce's boy Marco Meriwether.”
“Yeah, I know.” Malloy waited for the suspect's photo to print out of their system. “And my guess is he ain't gonna give up without a fight. So as soon as we get a positive ID, let's plaster this picture all across the news and see how long he last in the streets!”
New Beginnings . . .
Weary and emotionally drained, Storm came dragging through the front door of the condo. Nursing a cheap liquor-inflicted hangover and a splitting headache, he was met with the smell of turkey bacon, eggs, and grits coming from the kitchen. Throwing his keys on the table he stood in the doorway ready to collapse. He had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Now not only was he responsible for Kenya, her sister London, their unborn baby, Alley Cats, the mortgage on the condo, three car notes, and he had to make sure all of Boz's family's needs were taken care of.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Kenya, for the first time in over a month, ran up to him wrapping her arms around his neck. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I'm good.” Storm was surprised at the greeting he got but went with the flow.
“What happened to Boz?”
“We went on a mission last night and shit got out of control, but Royce got his!”
“Damn!”
“Yeah, and now we gonna get Marco next!”
“I can't believe all this is happening so fast!”
“Yeah, Kenya, it's a long, crazy-ass story, but bottom line my manz is dead.” Storm dropped his head on her shoulder.
“Don't worry, baby. It's gonna be okay,” Kenya reassured him stroking his hair. As she was trying to be nice and comfort him she saw the scratch on his neck and had to almost bite her tongue off to not trip.
“I see you cooking.” He rose up.
“Yeah, I thought you might be hungry. So sit down and I'll fix you a plate.”
“That'll work.” Storm's empty stomach started to growl. “Just let me jump in the shower and get some of this project dirt off me.”
“Okay, babe.” Kenya smiled putting part one of her plan in motion. “And while you're getting clean, I'm gonna make that call out east.”
“Damn, Kenya! That's good looking!”
“Anything for you.” Kenya winked her eye.
Storm went upstairs and turned the temperature dial on as hot as he could stand. Stepping out his clothes he looked at his muscular frame in the glass door. As the water rushed down on his body he had to wonder what happened to change Kenya's behavior so quickly. Now, maybe things could get back to normal. He prayed as the steam filled the bathroom.
Brother Rasul
“Hey, Fatima, how you doing?”
“I'm well, Kenya.”
“That's good. Is Brother Rasul around?”
“He's out in the backyard.” Fatima acted as if she had some sort of an attitude for Kenya calling.
“Well, are you going to get him or what?”
“Yeah, in a minute,” Fatima huffed. “But first me and you need to talk.”
“Oh yeah!” Kenya wasn't stupid and knew where this bullshit was heading. “About what?”
“Well, I talked to London.”
“And?”
“And don't you think you're being just a little bit unfair?” Fatima asked expecting an honest answer. “That is your sister.”
“Don't you think ya ass need to stay out my fucking business? You must have me all the way twisted! Just because you my sister's little friend and Brother Rasul running all up in that don't give you the right to jump off into mines! So back off!”
“Listen, London is my girl, so that makes it my business!”
“Bitch, please! Go on back to school!” Kenya dismissed her. “And put ya man on the line!”
“That's right, Kenya, you said it correct, my man!”
Fatima hung up in her ear and didn't answer the three more times that Kenya tried calling back. Needless to say, there's more than one way to skin a cat. Kenya dialed Brother Rasul's cell phone and he immediately picked up.
“As-Salaam Alaikum.”
“Hey now, Brother Rasul.”
“How's life in Dallas? I've been following the news and wondered when you'd call.”
“You know me like the back of your hand don't you?”
“Yeah, I guess you can say that, huh?” Brother Rasul grinned. “Now what do you need, little sis?”
“Well, you know Storm?”
“Of course I do.”
“Well, I know you don't really try to get off into the other side of the life he's living but we need your help once again or we might lose everything.”
“You said we,” he strangely questioned. “I got the impression from Fatima you two weren't doing so well.”
Kenya turned her lip up at the thought of Fatima's big mouth running about her personal matters. “Are you talking about that mess with London?”
“Yes, Kenya, I am.” He was truthful and didn't hold any punches when speaking.
“To keep it real. Naw, I'm not happy about it. Who would be? But that don't have nothing to do with me.”
“Come on, sis, it has everything to do with you. Now if you can promise me you're gonna stay with that man and forgive him and maybe your sister's transgressions then I can help him. Other than that I wouldn't feel completely comfortable making the introductions.”
“Me and him gonna stay together and get married really soon,” Kenya honesty promised knowing she was about to try to get pregnant. “But as for London, I ain't gonna lie. Me and her ain't dealing.”
“Well, I'll pray things one day change for you and your sister.” Brother Rasul respected Kenya's word and gave her the go-ahead for her and Storm to fly out east to Detroit so they could all discuss business face-to-face.
When Storm came downstairs to eat an elated Kenya hit him with the good news. “Hey, babe. How was your shower?”
“I needed that.” Storm reached for the plate she was handing him and sat at the table. “Just like I need this here food.”
Kenya poured him a tall, ice-cold glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and took a seat across from him. “I've got good news and bad news.”
“I can't take any more bad news.” Storm held the fork in his hand as he waited for the shit to hit the fan.
“It ain't like that. It's just that Brother Rasul said he wants to meet with you in person.”
“Oh yeah? Now that's what up!”
“But we probably can't get a reasonable flight out of here until late next week.” Kenya stood up standing behind him and started massaging his shoulders. “Is that okay?”
“That'll work.” Storm's face brightened up as his dick got hard as a rock. “That'll give us time to settle a few other thangs.”
One thing led to the next, and before the estranged couple knew it they were buck-naked on the living room floor getting that shit in! Sucking! Fucking! Licking and sticking! It was nothing too nasty for Kenya in her sneaky plight to get knocked up. If Storm wanted a baby so bad, London wasn't gonna be the only bitch to give him one.
In the middle of their afternoon sexual exploits, the house phone and both of their cell phones went off simultaneously bringing a sudden screeching halt to their freakery. Pulling his still hard manhood out of Kenya, Storm reached up on the couch grabbing his phone.
“It's the alarm people. Yeah, hello.”
“Yes, Mr. Christian.”
“Yeah, this me.”
“This is Westmore Security and we need you to get down to your property listed as Alley Cats.”
“What seems to be the problem?” Storm got up off the floor as Kenya waited anxiously to find out what the dilemma was.
“There seems to have been a fire on the premises.”
“All right, I'll get right down there.”
Storm scrambled around looking for his pants and shoes, but Kenya beat him to the punch and was already dressed with her purse in hand. “Sweetie, you need to lay low for a few days. Let me go down to the club and handle it.” She was firm not willing to take no for an answer. “And if I need your help I'll call.”
Kenya did almost eighty miles per hour getting down to the club. When she pulled into the crowded parking lot Kenya swerved by several fire trucks and the arson investigator who'd already been called to the scene. Peering through her windshield caused her to want to cry. The perfect paint job they'd paid thousands for along with the neon light marquee were completely charred black. The huge double doors had been ripped out the frame so the firefighters could gain entry into the interior.
“What happened? How did it start?” Kenya tried breaking through the gawkers.
“Who are you, Miss?” the inspector inquired.
“My name is Kenya Roberts. I'm the manager and Westmore Security called.”
“Well, Miss Roberts.” He held his silver clipboard in his hands. “We'll have to wait until the hot spots are cool before we can really make an assessment of the cause, but I can tell you that our men found some suspicious canisters in the rear of the building.”
“What! Y'all think it was deliberate?”
“Calm down and hold your horses. I'm not saying that just yet.” The man walked with Kenya to the far side of the nosey crowd. “I'm just saying, off of the record, you and the owner might wanna start being prepared to answer a lot of questions.”
Damn!
Kenya bit her lower lip wondering who in the hell would do some old fucked-up bullshit like this.
“One good thing, Miss Roberts, is that most of the main destruction is on the exterior cosmetics of the dwelling, but the structure itself is fine. As for the inside you have extensive smoke and water damage.”
“Thank you.” Kenya took his card as she went back to sit in her car and placed a call to the insurance company as well as Storm.
Sadly watching the trucks pull off one by one, Kenya got a pain in the pit of her belly. Since she'd been in town Alley Cats and all the people who worked there had been her life. Now it would be closed and worst of all Boz was dead. As the twenty-four-hour emergency board up team arrived Kenya got out the car to make sure all of the building was being secured properly. In the middle of her giving them instructions she was abruptly interrupted by two men in suits.
“Hello, Miss Roberts. It's a shame what happened. I hope you are covered.”
“Yes, can I help you?” Kenya stepped back, unsure who these men were who knew her name.
“Can we talk to you a minute?” Malloy politely asked.
“About what? Who are you?” She did a double take because they seemed somewhat familiar.
“About this unexpected fire and a few other things,” Kendrick said.
“Do you know who could've started this fire? Does your boyfriend Tony Christian or his little brother have any enemies that you know of?” Malloy jumped back in.
“Who the fuck are you?” Kenya put her hands on her hip and got double ghetto on they asses. “You can't be no damn fire inspectors asking me no dumb shit like that!”
“Miss.” Kendrick showed her his badge. “We're from the police department and—”
“And what? If you ain't arresting my black-ass, then y'all can both get the fuck on!”
“You act as if you've got something to hide. Did you know one of your employees got murdered last night?”
“I think you two better get off my property before I call my lawyer!”
“If you keep running around with the company you keep you're gonna really have to call a lawyer.” Malloy returned the insult before heading back to the car with his partner.
When the police left, Kenya nervously called Storm back telling him what just had gone down. After Alley Cats was boarded up securely, Kenya posted a huge sign that read C
LOSED
F
OR
R
EMODELING
, and skirted off back to the condo to order the plane tickets for Detroit. In the middle of all the chaos that was going on, she couldn't wait to get back to the town she called home.

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