No More Mr. Nice Guy (8 page)

I opened one eye and listened intently, pretending to be asleep when the door to the interrogation room opened. It had been almost an hour since that bitch Bridget had smugly walked in, trying to persuade me to make a deal with the devil. This time it wasn't her entering the room, but a six foot tall male cop who should probably leave the donuts alone. He hadn't come into my sightlines yet, but I could tell his height, gender, and weight by sound of his shoes on the tile floor.

“Hey, Monroe, naptime's over.” The black officer was now standing in front of me. He wasn't wearing a gun, and even handcuffed I could have taken him out within seconds, but I'd decided to wait until they took me outside to transport me before I'd make a break for it. That way fewer innocent people would get hurt. Once free, I'd make my way out of the state and then the country, although I hated the idea of not saying good-bye to my mom and uncle. Or Keisha, for that matter.

The officer unhooked my handcuffs from the table and led me out the door, down a corridor, and into an office. Detective Fuller was in there, sitting behind a desk. To his right was another white man who carried himself like he was the boss. Both men stared at me with undisguised disdain.

“I don't know who you are or what your story is, Monroe, but you can't go around killing people,” Fuller started. He sounded as frustrated as I felt.

“Not your problem or your concern, Detective,” Bridget snapped from a chair in front of them.

What the hell?
I thought. She must have been some type of ninja or something, because I hadn't even noticed her sitting there until she opened her mouth.

“This is way above your pay grade, and you're being well compensated to keep your mouth shut.”

Fuller eyed her, tightening his lips. This guy did not like to be told what to do, but Bridget obviously didn't give a shit.

“Can we get rid of those?” She pointed at my wrists, lacing her voice with just enough arrogance for him to get the message that she was in charge.

Fuller motioned for the officer to take off my handcuffs.

“I'm going to need that gun. Oh, and any other paperwork related to him or this case.” She smiled, working overtime to taunt him with whatever power she had used to effortlessly free me from his grasp. Not only did she do this all effortlessly, without a hint of hesitation or doubt, but this chick had the nerve to smirk openly at him.

He looked up at his boss, who nodded his head. Reluctantly, Fuller handed her the gun and a file sitting in front of him. She took them, but not before taking a quick survey of his desk.

“Is your notebook in here, Detective?” she questioned. I had to admit that as pissed as I was at her, it felt good to see Fuller being the one worked over for once.

“Yes, everything is there.” He shot her a look full of hate. If it were legal, he would have punched her in the throat.

“I don't need to remind you that no one can know he was ever here, so take a minute if you need to double check.” Bridget leaned against his desk and folded her arms across her chest as if to say she had time to wait. It took everything for me not to burst out laughing as I watched Fuller squirm.

“Look . . .” He started to protest, but one raised eyebrow from Bridget shut him down.

“Fingerprints in here?” she asked, motioning to the file.

He took a deep breath, obviously struggling to calm himself down. “Yes.”

“And all the files have been fully scrubbed from both the server and the hard drive?” She continued to grill him. Clearly she had done this before. “I'll have our people go behind you, but I just want to be sure.”

His boss finally spoke. “Yes. My people know exactly what they're doing, Ms. St. John.”

With that, she looked over at me. “Okay, Mr. Monroe, I'd say we're ready to go.” She strutted past me and out of that office without so much as a single glance backward.

I couldn't resist looking back, though, because I was hoping to see a defeated look on that detective's face. What I saw wasn't exactly what I had been expecting, but it almost made me laugh out loud. Something had caught his attention, and it was like he had already forgotten about me. He was steady watching Bridget's ass like he wished he had gotten a chance to interrogate those two round globes to the fullest.

I listened to Bridget's spiked heels hitting the tiles as we marched through the station. Every head swiveled in her direction, and few cops even bothered to disguise their interest. Man, talk about being invisible. Not one person noticed me walking behind her. Every cop, male and female, kept their eyes glued on Bridget until she was out the door.

Outside, a uniformed driver stood holding the door to a Rolls. She slid into the car, while I stood there gawking like some country bumpkin. This was definitely some next level shit.

“You waiting for an invitation, Mr. Monroe, or do you plan on walking?” she questioned, sticking her head out the door, which the driver was still holding open for me. I went around to the other door, still somewhat in shock over what this woman had just pulled off.

I shrugged. “I'm coming.”

“As you can see, I kept my side of the bargain,” she said as I settled in beside her. “Now, can I count on you to keep yours?”

“For now,” I answered, still unable to commit to much more than that. The whole night had been too surreal.

The driver headed toward my house in Wyandanch without any direction from me. I guess she really had no doubt I'd go along with her plan. Yeah, Bridget St. John was clearly used to getting her way and would do whatever it took to make it happen.

She held up the file she'd gotten from the detective. “You do understand that this file and gun can be given back to the cops at any point.”

I stared at her, realizing that I may not have a choice, but I did have certain needs she had to address before I would fully commit. “And you need to understand that you promised me more than just my freedom. I want my mother to get the best health care available. I want her out of that facility and in a private one as soon as possible,” I said, laying down the first of my demands.

She snatched her iPad out of her bag and typed something onto it. “Handled. Anything else?”

“Yes. Explain to me how all this works again, and more importantly, how I'm going to be paid for doing your dirty work.”

This little Q and A didn't seem to faze her at all. On the contrary, she seemed impressed.

“You will work exclusively for me, and your job description is whatever the fuck I say it is, until I deem you ready to go out in the field alone. You will be given a particular dollar amount for every assignment you complete. I would expect that if you listen to me, by the end of the year you're going to be a very wealthy man, Mr. Monroe.”

The driver pulled up in front of my house, and I could see the neighbors gawking already. Willie was standing on the steps.

“I guess that's a small price to pay for selling my soul to the devil.”

“So is that what I am? The devil?” She smiled.

“Something like that.” I stepped out of the car.

She rolled down the window as I strode up the walkway toward the house. “We start work Monday morning. I'll pick you up at seven a.m. sharp. We have a lot of work to do, so don't keep me waiting.”

I was in the midst of frying some chicken for dinner when I heard the doorbell. I let my mother get it, because I was sure it wasn't anybody important. Actually, my hope was that it was Tanya with some news from Willie about Niles. As much as I had tried, I could not get him or the fact that he'd been arrested for murder out of my head.

I turned to see Tanya standing at the entrance to my kitchen, looking mortified.

“What's wrong?” I asked, wishing my nosy-ass mother would go somewhere, instead of standing behind Tanya like Inspector Gadget.

Tanya took a deep breath, as if what she was about to say was painful. “You're never going to believe this, but Rodney's dead, and so are his two friends.” I knew she wanted to say more, but she glanced over at my mother, who was hanging on her every word. When our eyes locked, words were not needed, because I was sure we were both thinking the same damn thing:
Niles killed them.

“No. Not Majestic's brother Rodney!” my mother cried out in disbelief. “Stop lyin'!”

Tanya just rolled her eyes in my mother's direction, shaking her head. We had been friends a long time, and she knew my mother was a real piece of work. “Anyway, like I was saying, Rodney and his two friends are dead.”

“You sure?” I asked, not wanting it to be true.

“Sure as I'm standing here,” Tanya replied, going in my fridge to grab a child-size Sunny D. She opened it and put the plastic container to her lips. “His baby mama Tisha's out there on the block, whooping and hollering like they was married.”

I wasn't Rodney's biggest fan, and he sure had pissed me off at Sugar's, but I didn't want anything like this to happen to him. “Have you spoken to Willie?”

“Nah. He's supposed to call me tonight.”

The doorbell rang again, so I took the opportunity to get a moment alone to pick Tanya's brain. “Ma, can you get that?”

As soon as my mother was out of sight, I walked up on Tanya, my nerves on high alert. “You think he did it?” I whispered harshly.

Tanya nodded her head slowly. “They found their bodies behind Sugar's. Who else could it be?”

I returned to my frying chicken. “I don't know. I just don't want to think about him that way. He doesn't seem like a murderer.”

Tanya looked at me like I had two heads. “Exactly what does a murderer look like?”

“Majestic,” I snapped back quickly.

We laughed halfheartedly, enjoying the momentary break in the tension.

Suddenly, we heard my mother yelling at someone. “Who the hell are you?”

Tanya and I rushed from the kitchen.

“Whatever you're selling, we ain't buying,” Ma ranted.

I hurried down the hall to find Niles standing in the doorway with a bouquet of red roses clutched in his hands. I turned toward, Tanya who gave me an encouraging smile.

“Ma!” I yelled.

“What?” She whipped her head around and sneered at me. “I'm just trying to make sure this boy understands that you got a man.”

I rolled my eyes, wanting to strangle her right then and there. “I don't have a man. I'm single and you know it.”

“Um, I sure hope your man knows that,” she shot back, always needing to get the last word.

“Debra, why don't you and me go check on that chicken?” Tanya grabbed my mother by the arm and tugged. “C'mon.”

As my friend helped me get rid of my mother, Niles stood there patiently. He looked damn fine, even better than I remembered, and once my mother was finally out of earshot, I moved closer to him.

“I'm glad you're all right,” I said, enjoying the heat of his body next to mine. “I was worried about you.”

“Sorry about that. But I swear, Keisha, I didn't have anything to do with those murders.”

“I believe you,” I told him. “I don't think you'd be standing in front of me if the police believed that you did.”

He pointed out the door. “Can we go for a walk and talk?”

“Sure,” I answered, glad to get away from my mother and her wrath. She drove me crazy with her commitment to Majestic, no matter how much janky shit he did to me.

Niles reached out and took my hand as we headed down the street. “I'm sorry I didn't come straight here once they released me, but I was so tired I had to get some sleep.” He looked at me with intensity, as if he needed to know that I was listening. Once he knew he had my full attention, he continued. “I also wanted to tell you in person that I didn't have anything to do with Rodney and his friends getting killed.”

“Okay. You already said that,” I answered, not sure why he felt the need to repeat himself.

He laughed nervously. “Keisha, I like you.”

“The only thing I'm asking is for you to keep it real with me.”

“That's what I'm doing. That's why I'm here.” He put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, giving me the sweetest look that did a lot to thaw my resistance.

We walked a little bit in silence, and then I stopped at the corner. It took him a moment to realize that I was no longer next to him, but when he noticed, he doubled back and joined me.

“Um, you're standing here why?” he asked just as the yellow school bus pulled to the curb in front of us. When the doors opened, MJ came flying out.

“This is the reason.” I took MJ's hand and started leading him and Niles back toward the house.

“How was school?” I asked my son.

“Mommy, we have to do homework,” he whined, clearly not pleased with kindergarten. “I have to write ten things that begin with the letter G. Ten whole things.” He sighed like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Homework meant he couldn't just kick back and do nothing but play video games on his iPad.

“Can you say hello to my friend Niles?”

MJ looked up, finally noticing that I wasn't alone.

“Hello,” he said quietly to Niles. I could tell that he was still distracted by the homework.

I guess Niles caught that too. “Why don't you tell me some things that begin with the letter G? Like, what's that next to the pavement?”

“Grass!” MJ shouted victoriously.

“Uh-huh, and what color is it?” Niles asked.

“Green!”

This went on until we reached the house, with Niles throwing him all kinds of easy clues.

“Tell Grandma to give you a snack,” I told MJ as we reached the front door.

“Grandma! That's another G word!” MJ announced right before he raced into the house, yelling, “Grandma, I know nine words that start with a G!”

We both cracked up at that kid and the crazy amount of energy he had.

“I can see you have your hands full, but if you can get a babysitter, I would love to take you to dinner. And I will handle both.” He was looking into my eyes with that sexy stare of his, and suddenly Friday was feeling way too far off.

“You think I got my mother here for no reason?” I joked. “Did you already forget how annoying she is?”

Niles took that opportunity to lean in and kiss me. “I got to get on home, but I'll call you about dinner.”

“Promise?” I tried not to sound desperate.

“Yeah, I promise,” He nodded.

When he left, I felt like I was walking on air—until I entered the kitchen and saw my mother glaring at me.

She ordered my son away. “MJ, go play in your room.”

She waited until he was gone to lay into me. “So, he the one who killed Rodney!” she said, shooting me a dirty look. “You know you just setting yourself up for trouble, girl.”

“Why you gotta be listening to my business?” I shot back.

“All up in the Kool Aid and you don't know the flavor,” I said, repeating one of her annoying sayings back in her face. “Besides, he didn't do it.”

“You lucky I'm listening, 'cause you too stupid to stay out of trouble, and that boy is trouble. You think Majestic ain't gonna find out?”

“There is nothing for him to find out. We're not together. God! Just let me live my life!” I was screaming at her at this point. I didn't give a shit that she was my mother. I'd had enough of her trying to control my every move.

“Uh-huh. Just wait. Chickens always come home to roost.” No doubt she thought she was giving me some sage advice, but she didn't know what the hell she was talking about. She never did.

The doorbell sounded again. I cursed under my breath when I peeked out the window and spotted Bruce's car in the driveway. Apparently my mother had seen it too.

“See, I told you. You playing with fire. What would you do if Bruce had caught that guy in here?”

“I'ma go check on MJ,” I said, stomping away to get a moment's peace from her badgering me. At that moment, everyone could just go to hell as far as I was concerned. There was no way I was about to let my mother, Bruce, or even Majestic get in the way of my relationship—or whatever this thing was with Niles. All I knew was it was something that I wanted.