Playing For Keeps (14 page)

Randolph extended his hand, shaking Malcolm's in agreement. “I'll be touch,” he said, rising from his seat.

Cilla stood with him. “I'll walk you out,” she said. She avoided the look Malcolm gave her as he shifted his gaze between the two of them.

Outside Randolph hugged her again, his embrace lingering. “I've missed you,” he said as she pulled herself from his arms. “I was surprised to hear from you.”

“I needed your help and I know you're the best.”

The man nodded. “Your friend seems like a good guy. But I did some digging. He's got a past.”

Cilla gave him a look, her brow furrowing with annoyance. “We all have a past, Randolph. And there's nothing you can tell me about Malcolm that I don't already know.”

Randolph nodded. “Well, just try to rein him in. He doesn't need to do anything stupid.”

“He won't.”

“You hope not.”

Cilla pulled her gaze from his, turning to stare down the empty sidewalk.

Randolph drew his hand across her cheek, the gentle caress reminding them both of their good times together.

She cut her eye back in his direction. “I need to get back inside. Thank you again for everything.”

Randolph nodded. “There's not much I wouldn't do for you, Cilla. That's the only reason I'm here now. I hope you know that.”

Turning an about-face, Randolph headed in the direction of the parking lot. Cilla watched until he was out of sight. Then she headed back inside the nightclub.

 

 

Despite their best efforts neither of them had been able to convince Malcolm to stay in Raleigh. The man was determined to go to Baltimore, claiming he needed to find Shanell for some answers. Cilla was grateful for Romeo, the man joining them on the trip. They'd been in the air for less than an hour and Malcolm had barely spoken ten words to her. He was angry and she knew he needed to process the emotion before they discussed it. Romeo tossed her a sympathetic look as Malcolm made his way to the bathroom, securing the door behind him.

“You did the right thing,” he said.

She blew a loud sigh. “I hope so. He's not happy with me right now though.”

“He cares about you. And he knows you care about him. This is just hard for him. I imagine it would be hard for any man.”

“I can only imagine,” Cilla said softly.

Romeo shook his head. “I don't know what I'd do. If someone hurt my son it would probably take an army to keep me from seeing red and not acting on it.”

“I'm glad you came. I don't know if I can help if anything jumps off.”

“We're not going to let anything jump off. I promise that.”

“He's lucky to have you for a friend.”

Romeo shrugged his broad shoulders. “I'm the lucky one. Malcolm got me through a really rough time last year. I don't know if I would have made it without him. I owe him and there's nothing I wouldn't do for him.”

Malcolm's voice suddenly rang from the back of the plane. “You two could at least wait until we land before you start to talk about me.”

Romeo laughed. “At least we were saying nice things about you.”

Malcolm dropped back into his seat. “So you say.”

“I got your back, bro!”

The two men exchanged a quick look between them that made Cilla smile. For a split second Malcolm actually smiled back and then he closed his eyes and took himself a quick nap.

Chapter Eleven

Shanell Cobb sat in an old building, on an old sofa, both of which had seen better times. The room was dimly lit, the air putrid and dank. Another couple lay curled around each other on a small loveseat and a man cowered in the far corner, rocking his large, naked body back and forth. He swatted imaginary flies from around his head, spittle seeping from the corner of his mouth like water from an open spigot. Shanell didn't know any of them and didn't care if they knew her.

Her hand was shaking as she placed two tic-tac-sized chunks of black tar heroin onto a silver spoon. She squirted a minute amount of water on top of it and then flicked a lighter across the spoon's bottom to dissolve the combination. When it was ready, she rolled a wad of cotton into a small ball and dropped it into the drug, watching as it puffed up like a sponge.

She carefully pushed the tip of a syringe into the center of the cotton and pulled the plunger back slowly until all of the substance was sucked into it, the cotton filtering out any trash. She cast her gaze back toward them, smiling ever so slightly as recognition washed over her.

She'd already tied off her arm with a rubber strap, a good vein protruding against her warm caramel flesh. The rest of her journey would be all uphill, Shanell mused as she inserted the needle into the length of her vein, insuring that it was where it needed to be.

Seconds later there was a surge of euphoria and she suddenly felt like all was well in the world again. It was a cheap but effective high. Minutes passed and her mouth was dry, her skin flush with heat. Her limbs felts heavy and her thoughts were finally clouded. Soon she was on the nod, alternating between a state of wakefulness and drowsiness. She was grateful for it, welcoming the deep sleep that she knew would soon consume her.

As she slowly drifted into a world of her own making, Shanell suddenly thought of the man standing there in her dreams, a wealth of sadness seeping from his eyes. She wished she'd had an opportunity to tell him something that could have taken that sadness from him. A story that would have soothed his heartache. And then just like that she couldn't think of anything else, all of her senses flying like the blackbird in one of her favorite songs.

 

 

Cilla was exhausted but she didn't complain. She'd been struggling to keep up for the last few hours as Malcolm and Romeo had hurried from one spot to another. At every stop there was someone who knew Malcolm or whom he knew, yet no one had seen his ex-wife or had any knowledge of where she might be. Until the last stop.

The building looked condemned, an empty shell of a space that held nothing good for anyone. The man at the door had recognized Malcolm, posturing slightly as he barred them from entering. They had only been permitted inside when Malcolm had palmed a twenty-dollar bill into his hand and Romeo threatened him.

Shanell sat on a dirty sofa in a drug fueled stupor. An older version of her twin daughters, it wasn't too difficult to understand Malcolm's attraction to the woman. Her hair was disheveled and it was clear that she hadn't had a bath in days. Dirt caked her fingernails and the thin sundress she wore was tattered. But even in her disarray her good looks shone through.

Cilla struggled not to cry, her emotions suddenly on sensory overload. Two steps ahead of her Malcolm came to an abrupt stop, his gaze like a laser focusing on his ex-wife. He called the woman's name and she shushed him. He called it a second time and she held up her hand, giving him her palm. Annoyance painted her expression as she struggled to get her hit. Behind him Cilla and Romeo could only stand and watch, all of them feeling like they'd been dropped dead center into a bad movie.

Cilla felt Malcolm cringe as he stood staring and she hung back, suddenly feeling like she was intruding on a private moment between the two of them. Romeo sensed her rising anxiety and he pressed a gentle hand against her back as they waited to follow Malcolm's lead. Once again the two men exchanged a look and Cilla couldn't help but sense them having a silent conversation that she wasn't privy to.

“Shanell!” Malcolm called out her name. “Shanell! Wake up!”

With a groggy stare Shanell lifted her head from the coffee table, struggling to focus. A wide smile suddenly pulled at her mouth as she jumped to her feet, throwing her arms around Malcolm's neck.

“Malcolm!” Despite the gruff, cracking tone, excitement rang in her voice. “I missed you!”

Malcolm grabbed her arms and pulled them back down to her sides. She fell back into her seat laughing foolishly. “Have a drink with me,” she said, gesturing for an imaginary bartender.

Malcolm took the seat beside the woman. Romeo and Cilla remained standing. Shanell looked from one to the other, her eyes squinting. She swiped her hand across her face, brushing snot from her nose onto the back of her hand. She wiped her hand onto her dress. “You don't want a drink?” she whined, pushing her lips into a pout.

“No, Shanell. I need to talk to you.”

She blew a gust of air past her lips. “What now? Don't you spoil my good time 'cause I'm having a really good time.”

Frustration painted Malcolm's face. “Did you know about Candy Man taking Cleo to a party the last time the girls were with you?”

Shanell rolled her eyes. “I don't owe Candy nothin'! I settled my debt!”

“Did you give him our daughter for payment?” Malcolm spat, venom punctuating each word.

A look of confusion washed over her expression. “I . . . no . . . I . . .” She suddenly got angry. “Why are you bothering me? Leave me alone!” she exclaimed, her voice rising.

The man in the corner suddenly stopped rocking, tilting his head in their direction.

Romeo shook his head. He pressed a large hand to his friend's forearm. “Malcolm, we should go. You're not going to get any answers here.”

Shanell shifted her eyes. Her smile returned bright and full. “Rome! Hey, Rome!” She leaned in his direction. “You want to buy me a drink?”

“Not today, Shanell.”

The woman sucked her teeth, her eyes rolling toward the back of her head. “Tch!” She suddenly caught sight of Cilla, her gaze narrowing considerably as she looked her up and down. “Who are you?”

Cilla tried to force a smile onto her face, the slight bend to her lips looking more like a grimace. “I'm Cilla.”

Shanell looked from Cilla to Romeo and back. “This ain't your wife!”

Malcolm took a deep breath. “Cilla is my friend.”

Shanell's gaze narrowed even more but she didn't say anything. She cut her eyes back at Malcolm. “What do you want?”

“Where's Candy Man?”

“You wanna buy? I can take you to him. Candy Man's got good candy! We can get some good stuff, Malcolm. It'll have us feeling real good!” The woman's excitement seemed to return with a vengeance.

Malcolm nodded. “Yeah! Where can we find him?”

“He's down at Hollins. Hollins, that's where he's at,” she said, referring to the marketplace on Arlington Avenue.

“What about Nikko? Where's your boy at?”

“Nikko?” She looked confused again.

“Yeah, where's Nikko. I need to holler at him.”

She shook her head. “I need some money, Malcolm. Can you lend me some money?”

Malcolm rose from his seat, Cilla and Romeo following his lead. He shook his head. “No. I don't have any money, Shanell.”

And then he turned, heading toward the exit. Behind him Shanell called his name.

He turned around, meeting the look she was giving him. “What, Shanell?”

She screamed. “Keep that Cilla bitch away from my babies, you hear me! I don't want her nowhere near my girls!”

With a shake of his head, Malcolm slipped his arm around Cilla's waist. Together they exited the building as quickly as they'd entered.

Minutes later they found themselves at the two-story marketplace in southwest Baltimore. A typical row-front neighborhood bordered the old shopping center that housed an assortment of vendors hawking everything from fresh meat, seafood, and produce to baked goods, crafts, and clothing.

Nothing about the neighborhood was what Cilla was expecting. Children played along the sidewalk. Families sat out on stoops. Music sounded from someone's home. Corner storefronts boasted designer coffee and African artifacts. Cilla had expected dingy and dank, someplace that invoked fright and alarm, but there was nothing there that gave her that feeling.

Romeo pulled the car into a parking spot not far from the market entrance. Outside the front door a few men and boys were gathered in conversation. A woman pushing a stroller while her toddler clung to her pant leg hurried by, rushing to catch the MTA bus sitting at the corner. Cilla was content to sit and people watch until Malcolm reached into the front glove compartment and pulled out a gun. He pulled back the slide and looked down the chamber, checking to see that it was loaded.

“Why do you have that?” she suddenly questioned.

When he didn't answer immediately she asked again. “Malcolm?”

“Cilla, please!” he snapped.

Romeo tossed her a look.

“But you have a gun!” she snapped back, shifting to the edge of her seat.

“I also have a Maryland state conceal and carry license to own this gun,” he said.

Cilla was suddenly on edge. “You don't need a gun, Malcolm. This isn't what I was expecting.”

Malcolm and Romeo exchanged a look.

“It's just in case,” Romeo said as he turned to meet Cilla's anxious stare. He tried to reassure her. “We don't know what we're dealing with. These men aren't necessarily on the up and up.”

She looked into the rearview mirror to see Malcolm staring back at her. He tucked the weapon into the waistband of his pants, pulling his shirt to cover it. She heaved a nervous sigh.

Malcolm suddenly jumped. “That's him,” he said, his eyes focused on a Bill Cosby look-alike.

Before Cilla or Romeo could respond Malcolm was out the car and gone. Romeo jumped out behind him. He pointed a finger at Cilla. “Call your FBI friend and get some help. Tell him where we are. Tell him if he hurries he'll find Candy Man here or at Johns Hopkins Hospital if he takes too long.”

“But he's in Raleigh!” Cilla quipped, her eyes wide.

“Call someone!” Romeo yelled. “And now!”

Shaking, Cilla's gaze followed Malcolm and Romeo into the building. When the door closed behind them she dialed 911.

 

 

Ray “Candy Man” Bynum was waiting for an order at Chuckie's Chicken when Malcolm caught up to him. With one hand he spun the man around, his gun aimed at his head. Candy Man was caught off guard, his eyes wide with fear.

“Hey, hey, hey, now! We ain't got no problems here!” the man sputtered, his hands up, palms forward.

“That's where you're wrong,” Malcolm snarled.

Recognition suddenly swept over the old man.

“You . . . you . . . you kin to Miss Maxine, right? What you got me hemmed up for, man? I ain't do nothin' to you!”

Malcolm shook his head. “No, but you did something to my daughter. Maxine's granddaughter. You remember her? Shanell's baby girl?”

Something like real fear suddenly crossed the man's face. “'Dem twins! I know dem girls. I ain't touched neither one of dem girls!”

“But you know who did and you know who took pictures, don't you?”

Candy shook his head from side to side. “I don't know nothin'! I swear! I just drove her to meet her mama's boyfriend. I didn't do nothin' else.”

Malcolm cocked the gun. Behind him Romeo called his name. The smell of warm urine suddenly punctuated the air, a puddle of moisture pooling at Candy Man's feet.

“Where can I find Nikko?” Malcolm snapped.

Candy Man was suddenly a blubbering mass of doughy flesh. He was visibly shaking, the gun pressing against his temple feeling very final.

Romeo called Malcolm's name a second time, his gaze sweeping over the crowd that had gathered to watch. “We need to go,” he snapped, spying the security guard who was pointing two Baltimore police officers in their direction. Neither moved with any sense of urgency.

“I'm only going to ask you one more time,” Malcolm said.

Candy nodded. “Club . . . Club . . . Club Mercury,” he finally muttered.

With that Malcolm slammed his fist into the man's face, sending him to the floor. He hovered over him for a brief second before he secured his gun and adjusted his jacket, then just like that he and Romeo slipped through the crowd and away. As the cops helped Candy to his feet, slapping handcuffs on him, the two men eased their way right out the market's front door.

Cilla was standing nervously outside the car, wringing her hands anxiously. A wave of relief washed over her as the two men approached the vehicle, gesturing for her to get back inside. Romeo took the driver's seat, pulling into traffic, tossing one last look behind them.

“Club Mercury,” Malcolm stated.

His friend shook his head. “No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean no. We're not going to that club. The police will be there soon enough. We're not going to try to beat them there.”

“I'm going to that club.”

“There's nothing there waiting for you but trouble, Malcolm.”

“I thought you had my back?”

“I do but I'm not going to let you do anything stupid and you're walking a very fine line.”

“I'm going to that club,” Malcolm repeated.

“Over my dead body,” Romeo quipped.