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Devilish Details Page 17
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Cedric took out his four inch wide smart phone. “Give me full names and anything else you know. Would be nice if you knew his birth date, last known address.”
“J’Derrick Taylor. He lived in New York with his older brother for a while, but came home in 2006 when big bro got locked up. He’s only a year or two older than me. Or maybe younger.” Jazz squinted in an effort to remember more.
“With an unusual first name and a general date range for his year of birth, I should be able to get information. I’ll look up Lorraine’s old addresses.” Cedric nodded with satisfaction. “Yeah, this should be enough.”
“Lorraine didn’t move around much after 2007. Her mama died and left her house to Lorraine. Her and her two sisters got into it hot and heavy over it, too. She’s still living there. Guess she kept up the taxes over there at least,” Jazz retorted. She wrote down the address on a sheet of note paper and handed it to Cedric.
“I’m on it. Hold on a minute.” Cedric walked to a corner as he tapped the screen of his phone.
“You’re lucky to have such a hard-working man so close by all the time,” MiMi whispered to Willa and winked at her. She pressed her lips together to smother a giggle before it escaped.
“Don’t even start,” Willa hissed low. She glanced over her shoulder at Cedric.
“We know you’ve done a sleep over at his place at least once,” Jazz added with a sly grin.
“Who told you…” Willa stopped. She stared at Jazz, eyes lit with fire.
“Bam! You just did. I played a hunch and hit the lotto.” Jazz hooted with laughter. She jumped to her feet and shared a fist bump with MiMi.
“Well played,” MiMi chirped with glee.
Willa squinted at them. “I’m going to slap you both in about a minute.”
“At least y’all got somebody.” MiMi slumped again in misery over the state of her romantic life.
“Yeah, he’s ten steps up from your late ex-husband,” Jazz retorted.
“Hey, watch it. Jack is my baby’s father and he was a good guy. Well, most of the time,”
Cedric came back. “Okay, so I started doing some checking around on Lorraine. Willa told me the woman doesn’t like you much.”
“Try hates her with a burning passion,” Willa broke in.
“Obviously, since it’s a good bet she helped set Jazz up. Anyway, I wondered about the tax situation and how she let it get out of hand,” Cedric said.
“She’s triflin’ and dumb,” Jazz blurted out.
“Maybe.” Cedric grinned at her blunt assessment. “But she didn’t get any delinquent tax notices for about six years straight. An investigation into local government offices led to three people being fired and pleading guilty to a string of charges. They were taking kick backs . Forms were falsified showing notices had gone out and payments made.”
“When did they get arrested?”
“Eight months before all Lorraine’s tax troubles started.” Cedric nodded when Jazz snapped her fingers.
“Bingo. The end of 2012, right? Her kid Jay-Jay got convicted around that time.” Jazz whistled.
“I can look, but so far I don’t see a connection to Filipe’s gang or any other of the small time Baton Rouge gangs operating at the time.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean if we dig enough we won’t find it,” Jazz said.
Willa sucked in air and then exhaled. “Y’all are going way out there looking for conspiracies. Look Jazz, you’ve got a rich guy who wants this property. Sell and start over. It doesn’t matter who did what or why. Let Lorraine think she’s won. Pocket your money and ditch all this crap from the past.”
“Lorraine, Cleavon, or somebody is serious about finding out what I know. Dead serious. They’re not going to stop coming after me because I walk away from all this.” Jazz swept a hand around. “Even if I wanted to, which I don’t.”
“I didn’t say give up on having your own business. There is nothing special about Candy Girls or even this neighborhood. And please don’t try to tell me you have some sentimental attachment to the place,” Willa insisted.
Jazz folded her arms. “You didn’t know shit about running Crown Protection. Jack died and Cedric offered to buy the business. So why didn’t you sell?”
“Ha, she’s got you,” MiMi blurted out. She snapped her lips shut when Willa glared at her.
“That was different .I have two kids and… I mean their father’s legacy was under attack,” Willa said.
“
“I happen to agree with Jazz. Lorraine might be satisfied, but what about Cleavon? Something of value is motivating them. I don’t think it’s just about the property for Lorraine.” Cedric gazed at Willa as though sending her a silent message.
“Thank you. Somebody got some sense up in here besides me,” Jazz said. She gave Willa a satisfied smirk. “You’re just trying to get me out of Candy Girls so you won’t be embarrassed in front of your bourgie family and sorority sisters. You don’t care if I lose something I care about.”
“That’s not true. ‘Keepin’ it real’ and staying close to street life has gotten you shot at and a murder charge. Give me the protection of boring bourgie life any day,” Willa shot back with heat.
Jazz gave a loud grunt of scorn. “There’s plenty of dirt on that side of town, sweetie. Being bourgie sure as hell didn’t protect Jack.”
MiMi stood up, both hands on her hips. “Okay, that’s enough,” she shouted.
“Screw it, I’m going home. Glad we came in separate cars. I just hope mine is still on the parking lot.” Willa slung her purse over one shoulder. She marched to the office door.
“Willa,” Cedric tried to put a hand on her arm, but she moved too fast.
“I’ll see you later,” Willa said over her shoulder and was gone before he or the others moved.
When MiMi and Cedric turned back to Jazz with twin frowns of judgment, she threw up both hands. “What?”
“You went too far, that’s what. And you know it,” MiMi barked at her. “Willa works hard to have a better life for the kids. And by the way, for a while Willa blamed herself for Jack’s death. She still cared about him even after the way he treated her.”
“But—”
“Willa is just as scared of losing you, but you’re too hard-headed to take that into consideration,” MiMi pressed on. She met Jazz’s glowering expression with resolution.
Several seconds of silence, heavy with unspoken arguments, went by. Jazz lit a cigarillo. “Okay, so I maybe crossed a line.”
“You definitely crossed a line,” MiMi replied. Then her severe expression eased into one of sympathy. “Look, you cool down. Let her cool down, and then apologize.”
“I don’t know about no apology,” Jazz mumbled. Still, guilt stabbed into her gut at the hurt she’d seen in Willa’s eyes.
“Great advice,” Cedric said calmly. “Y’all take a deep breath and then talk. Meanwhile, I’ll start doing research on Lorraine and her son. If it’s okay with you, I’ll contact your lawyer to let him know. We work for law firms, mostly on civil matters. But I’m sure he’ll be glad to have an investigator gathering information for your defense.”
“Sure, you can call him. Thanks, Cedric. I’m going to pay you like any other client.” Jazz gave him a brief sisterly hug.
Cedric blushed. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Friends back each other up, right?”
“Right,” Jazz said softly. She swallowed hard against the emotional lump in her throat.
“See? We’re all family.” MiMi beamed at them.
“I’m going to get on this right away. Talk to y’all later.” Cedric hurried out.
“He’s not going to start investigating right way. First he’s going to call Willa, then maybe he’ll buy takeout for her and the kids.” MiMi heaved a sigh. “He’s going to make a wonderful brother-in-law.”
“Yeah, with me and you always in some kind of trouble, we need a professional private investigator in the family,” Jazz said dryly. She went b
ack and flopped down into her executive chair. “What a damn mess.”
“Don’t get all discouraged. We’re going to figure out what’s going on, just like we did when Jack was killed,” MiMi said as she put an arm around Jazz’s shoulder.
“I sure hope you’re right,” Jazz said with a smile.
“But you may have to let Detective Addison give you an alibi if Cedric can’t dig up some reasonable doubt,” MiMi said, her voice pitch low by the gravity of Jazz’s predicament.
Jazz’s smile vanished. “As a down to the wire, back against the wall last resort, MiMi. I swear.”
Chapter 13
Monday morning dawned as dreary as Jazz’s mood. Saturday night’s receipts from the club were the cause. Not even the restaurant and takeout food orders had made up for the few paying customers in Candy Girls. When Jazz looked at spreadsheets, the downward trend jumped out at her. Rain came down in a steady grim beat. The water and gray skies made the neighborhood look more unattractive than usual. As she stared past the security grill of her office window, Jazz wondered what potential her investor saw now. The local news media had begun a series of reports on criminal activity in the area. Business pundits speculated on whether development would be affected. Jazz saw her chances of cashing in going down the storm drain like the dirty rain water falling outside.
She left the window and went to her desk. The spreadsheet stared back at her with cold indifference. Jazz hit the keyboard, closing the depressing reminder of less money coming in. One screen was on showing a morning talk show, but Jazz had the sound on mute. A knock on the door startled her.
“It’s me,” Byron rumbled through the door.
“Come on in. I forgot you were here. You didn’t need to come in early again,” Jazz said, glad to see him despite her words.
“The soft drinks, beer, and stuff was being delivered. You can’t stack them heavy boxes by yourself.” Byron grinned. “Anyway, I’m a manager now so I got to set an example for the employees.”
Jazz laughed. “I like the way you see a silver lining in all these clouds.”
“You mean the weekend receipts? Yeah, it’s down some. But I’m thinkin’ that’s gone be temporary. We got core customers that will stick with us.”
Byron crossed over to a tall metal filing cabinet. He opened a drawer, stuffed the invoice in a folder, and closed it. Without asking, he turned Jazz’s computer to face him. He entered figures in the inventory application they’d bought. Jazz watched him work with a listless feeling.
“Core customers, huh? You learning a lot from that online business class.”
“Yeah, and to think mama had to practically call the police to make me go to school when I was a kid.” Byron wore a crooked grin. “Okay, our inventory tracking is updated.”
“Working on a degree and talking like a big time business school graduate already,” Jazz replied, her mood lifting a little. “Making mama proud.”
“She almost dropped her pot of gumbo at Sunday dinner when I told her. Hugged me like I’d just announced I was mayor or something,” Byron said with a hearty laugh. “Good to see she got reason to smile instead of cry because of me.”
“You should be proud of yourself. I just hope my troubles don’t screw with your plans.” Jazz’s mood swung low again. “We might not have a need for software, security systems, or any of my fancy ideas.”
“Hey, don’t get down on yourself. We have to be ready when things turn around,” Byron said.
Jazz sighed and lit a cigarillo. “I’m facing facts, Byron. Once again my choices are bringing grief to people around me. I could have passed on buying Lorraine’s property. Sure I wanted something of my own, but I knew it would piss her off.”
“Mission accomplished,” Byron said dryly.
“Hell yeah. I never would have guessed she’d go so far as to frame me for murder. I knew she was tough, but damn.”
Byron heaved his tall, burly frame from the chair. “It’s like Cedric said, there’s somethin’ else goin’ on. We gonna figure it out.”
“Hope we figure it out before I go to prison for life.” Jazz took a pull on the cigarillo. Puffing out a stream of smoke relaxed her a little.
“Look, the indictment and arraignment happened fast, but the trial is months away. We got you on this, boss.”
“Thanks, and I mean that. You and the others have been great.” Jazz held out a hand and Byron gave it a firm shake. “Team JV Enterprises.”
Byron let go of her hand and snapped his fingers. “Hey, we oughta have Tshirts. I’ll get my cousin to come up with some designs. She’s studying art. A brand is very important for a business.”
“Go to it manager,” Jazz said. Despite her Monday blues, she had to grin at his enthusiasm. The buzzer announced someone at one of the entrance doors.
“I’ll get it.” Byron strode out and five minutes later came back with Cedric and Willa.
Willa put down a large white paper bag. “Sure you won’t stay and have some, Byron.”
Cedric placed a shallow cardboard box with five cups of coffee on the small side table in Jazz’s office. “We have plenty. Wasn’t sure who would be in at this hour.”
“No thanks. I got to get home. I have a class assignment due. Then I’m gonna get some sleep before I work tonight. See you tonight, boss lady.” Byron gave Jazz a playful salute.
“If you don’t quit calling me boss or boss lady…” Jazz said in a mock threatening tone.
Byron merely laughed and waved at her. “I’m out.”
“Bye,” Willa called to him. Cedric followed to walk with him to the door. “He was an excellent hiring decision.”
Jazz stubbed out the cigarillo so her sister wouldn’t whine about the smoke. “Glad you think so.”
Willa opened the bag. The smell of hot biscuits and bacon floated up. “Can’t wait to dig into this food. Crazy morning already and it’s just nine-thirty.”
“That right?” Jazz watched Willa sniff the biscuit like a connoisseur sniffing fine wine.
“Hmm.” Willa stuffed two slices of bacon into the fluffy treat. With a sigh she bit into it. After chewing for a few moments, she nodded. “Anthony pitched in and took Mikayla to school for me. You were right. Helping him buy a car wasn’t a disaster.”
“You’re welcome,” Jazz tossed back.
“Then we had a seven-thirty meeting with a potential client.” Willa got a cup of coffee. She dumped sugar and creamer into it.
“Damn, you gonna run business away making people come that early to talk.” Jazz waved away her offer of a biscuit.
“Mr. Barilla has a growing wholesale produce business. He wanted to meet at seven-thirty because he’s used to working before sunrise. I think he was testing us. You know, seeing if we were his kind of people.” Willa grabbed a napkin before she sat down.
“I hope you get a contract after getting up with the chickens for the guy.”
“I think so. He’ll call us by Wednesday at the latest, so we’ll need to hire.” Willa chewed more bacon and biscuit. “This is so good. Have one, girl.”
“No thanks. Since you’re impressed with Byron, keep him in mind for a job. He might be needing one,” Jazz said with a grimace.
“Stop that kind of talk,” Willa replied.
“What kind of talk,” Cedric said as he came in. He retrieved a cup of coffee.
“Jazz is being pessimistic way too soon. Besides, we have news.” Willa wiped her mouth with dainty dabs.
“Good news I hope,” Jazz retorted.
“Well, I’d call it interesting news for sure,” Cedric said. He took a sip of black coffee.
Willa put down her half-eaten breakfast. “Okay, remember the city employees that were caught up in a scandal three years ago?”
“One of them ended up getting jail time for taking bribes,” Cedric added.
“I wasn’t watching the news much back in the day. Now that I’m a main topic, I’m keeping up more.” Jazz grunted.
“Cedric, te
ll her the rest. This is good.”
“One woman worked in the Clerk of Court’s office collecting business taxes. The other one worked in the Sheriff’s department tax section. They would ‘lose’ or falsify documents so these businesses would pay less or no taxes. That was just one of their schemes. Guess who was one business owner who benefitted for at least three years,” Cedric said.
“Oh man. I should have known. Lorraine wasn’t stupid enough to let those taxes slide, not that she wasn’t a sloppy record keeper,” Jazz replied. “She knew all about the city auctions downtown where you go pay taxes on property to own it. Now it makes sense. Her tax problems started after those folks got caught.”
“Yes. The city parish did audits. Eight months later tax notices went out. They didn’t have enough to indict Lorraine. Her lawyer claimed she was charged ‘fees’, and she didn’t know the employees were doing anything illegal. But the city wanted their money,” Cedric said.
“And she couldn’t pay the interest and penalties,” Jazz added.
“Plus she paid a fine for the overdue taxes and a fine for falsifying public documents. She had to admit not reporting all of her business income, too.” Willa picked up her biscuit sandwich again. “She squeaked by with only misdemeanor criminal charges.”
“All I remember was her complaining about crooked politicians stuffing their pockets while the little guys got screwed.” Jazz rocked back in her chair considering this new twist.
“I suspect Lorraine thinks you knew all about it,” Willa said.
“If you recall, I was distracted with my own worries,” Jazz replied, raising an eyebrow at her sister.
Willa’s no good ex-husband had been murdered and her son had been one of the suspects. Jack Crown managed to get into business that included Filipe’s gang. Jack didn’t know about the drug and gun smuggling part at first. But greed had made him too stupid to check out his new partners. At least the Scar Face clone hadn’t figured out Jazz helped solve Jack’s murder, which in the process put the police onto Filipe’s lucrative game—yet.
“Thanks for taking the risks for us, but don’t do it again,” Willa added, pointing a finger at Jazz.