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  Jazz affected a fake sugary smile. “You’re so welcome, sweetie. See how easily she reverts to being a woman of the street, Cedric? You’ve been warned.”

  “Duly noted,” Cedric said with a chuckle despite the dark look Willa gave him.

  “Y’all both getting on my nerves,” Willa muttered and ate the rest of her biscuit.

  “So Lorraine and Cleavon threatened to send word to Filipe that you stabbed him in the back?” Cedric said to Jazz.

  “Yeah. How’d you figure that one out?” Jazz liked this guy. Willa could do a lot worse, and had.

  “Logical since they know about you and Filipe, and how you stood by Willa when Jack was murdered.” Cedric frowned. “I don’t know. Something’s missing.”

  “Did you find out about Lorraine’s son? He could be the missing link,” Jazz said.

  Cedric stood. “Nothing solid yet, but I’m still tracking down street gossip about all three of her sons.”

  Willa glanced at her fancy wristwatch and stood as well. “In the meantime, you need to eat regular meals. I know how you get when times get rough. You can go two days without anything much in your stomach.”

  “Yes, mama. I promise to eat my veggies,” Jazz said in a childish sing-song voice.

  “Smart ass. Speaking of, have you heard from Vivienne lately?” Willa asked, grimacing at the mere mention of their biological mother’s name.

  “No, and no news is good news,” Jazz replied with the old phrase they always used when their mother went MIA on them.

  “Yeah. You know Lorraine reminds me of her a lot. Anyway, watch your back and front.” Willa crossed around the desk and gave Jazz a hug before she could object.

  “Yeah, whatever. See ya, Cedric.” Jazz tried not to look pleased at Willa’s big sister affection.

  “Bye.” Cedric gave the two siblings an amused look as he followed Willa out.

  Seconds later, Willa burst through the door again. She pointed a magenta polished forefinger at Jazz. “Don’t try to do any investigation about Lorraine’s thuggish offspring. Let us do the sniffing out.”

  “Stop worrying about nothing,” Jazz said. “Now get to work so you can make some money.”

  Willa squinted at her but said no more. Jazz rocked and thought. And rocked some more. Answers to the riddle banging around in her head seemed as elusive as the smoke from her cigarillo.

  *

  Monday sped by as Jazz tied up details at Candy Girls. By four o’clock in the afternoon she’d given Rochelle instructions. Lilly had come in insisting she should dance to bring in more money. Plus the blunt young woman missed the tips. So much for her ambitions to get off the pole, Jazz mused. She left Lilly and Tyretta working on a poster to advertise Lilly’s upcoming Thursday night performance. Chyna had come in by five o’clock to help Rochelle in the kitchen. By six thirty, few men had drifted in. Lilly had gone home, and Rochelle’s brother was in the kitchen. Tyretta and Rochelle assured Jazz they could hold things down.

  “Go up to your place and rest. Stop thinking about the business and all the drama and stuff,” Tyretta insisted.

  “Yeah, we got this. Not much goin’ on here anyways,” Rochelle agreed.

  Jazz grimaced as she glanced around at two customers warming seats. “Thanks for reminding me.”

  “Mondays are always slow,” Rochelle replied. She patted Jazz on the arm as she headed back to the kitchen. “Take it easy.”

  “Call my cell if y’all need me,” Jazz said.

  Tyretta waved at her to leave. “Uh-huh, now go.”

  Jazz glanced over her shoulder once as she headed through the side entrance. They were right. Sitting around a slow night didn’t make sense. But she had no desire to lounge around watching dumb television shows or listening to music. Jazz went home and changed clothes. She let her hair hang down her back. Two inch silver hoops decorated her ear lobes. Jazz turned left to right checking her look in the full length mirror in her bedroom. A gray knit blouse with silvery threads over black leggings fit the ready to party image she wanted. Jazz added a pair of Luichiny Hot Seat ankle boots to finish the look. Deep red lipstick added the final touch. She stuffed her driver’s license, some cash, and knife in the pocket of her suede jacket. The only item in her small cross body bag was a small .38 pistol. She smiled at the reaction Don would have to her bad habit of carrying weapons.

  “What you don’t know…” Jazz murmured as she walked out.

  Twenty minutes later she was perched at the bar of Grown Folks. For a good thirty minutes Jazz chatted with a middle-aged man determined to get her into his Lexus SUV. She played along to blend in with the other customers. Willa would scream that Jazz was nuts to be at a club only five blocks away from Lorraine’s new place. But this was ripe territory to pick up street buzz.

  Jazz bobbed her head to the music. A mixture of music blared, including tunes from the eighties. Grown Folks catered to an older, less volatile crowd than the twenty-something and younger bar flies. To her surprise, Jazz liked the way the new owner had transformed the place. The decor had a sophisticated look. The club looked shady from the outside, but inside, the muted gray, green and blue tones classed the place up.

  “I have one of those new apartments downtown. Nice view of the bridge even. I’m on the eleventh floor,” the man said, leaning closer to stare down Jazz’s blouse.

  “Sounds expensive,” Jazz replied with a flirty smile. She knew the game. Lawrence had dangled the hint that he had money.

  Lawrence shrugged. “I like it until I build a house somewhere.”

  Jazz glanced around looking for a familiar face as he droned on about his big plans. Two women kept shooting hungry glances at Lawrence. About ten years older than Jazz, they seemed ready to pounce if she gave up the prize. She switched her attention past them to a group that entered the lounge. An insistent tug on her harm pulled her back to Lawrence.

  “Hey beautiful, you want another glass of bourbon?” he said, voice pitched low in an attempt to be sexy.

  “Sure. Hit me again.”

  Jazz turned around and acted like his every word fascinated her. Yet she kept the newcomers in her sights. Two of the guys were wannabe players who hit the Baton Rouge club scene hard regularly. She’d let them get settled before ditching Lawrence to strike a conversation with them. Before she could make her move, a surprise plum appeared. Kelli Granger joined the male bartender to handle the onslaught of customers. Kelli had worked for Lorraine on and off for over five years. Now they were definitely off since Lorraine fired her a year ago.

  “Don’t you slip away, sweet thing. I have to pay the water bill,” Lawrence said with a wink.

  She somehow managed not to roll her eyes at the outdated cutesy reference to his need to pee. “Okay,” Jazz said with a smile.

  Kelli came over with the drinks. She blinked hard at Jazz and then boomed out a laugh. They slapped palms by way of a greeting and shared a brief hug across the bar.

  “Girl, you up in here checking out the competition?” Kelli leaned against the polished wood.

  “What competition?” Jazz wisecracked. “How the hell you been?”

  “Great these days. Getting fired turned out to be my blessing in disguise. Lorraine is asshat crazy. But I don’t need to tell you.” Kelli gave a grunt. “Hey, you need me?”

  “Nah, I got it. Visit with your fine ass friend.” The bartender gave Jazz a broad grin.

  “Real smooth, Derrick” Kelli said. She turned back to Jazz. “And he thinks you’ll melt all over him because of that crude compliment.”

  “Other than him, you like it here?” Jazz snapped her fingers to the beat of Kanye West music spitting from the speakers.

  “He’s alright. It’s just these desperate women got men spoiled. They don’t even have to be polished or polite. Just say any kind of stupid shit.” Kelli started to say more, but she gazed past Jazz. “Oh no. Lawrence done latched on to you? Lawd have mercy.”

  “He’s not half bad,” Jazz replied and gig
gled at Kelli’s grimace.

  “Dude hasn’t had game since the eighties, if he had any back then,” Kelli said low. Then she straightened up to beam at him. “Hey Lawrence. What up?”

  “Spending quality time with the prettiest woman up in here. I…” Lawrence frowned at the sound of his cell phone during a lull in the music. He glanced at the caller ID. “Excuse me a minute.”

  Kelli watched him leave the club, cell phone in hand. “His wife.”

  “He’s got an apartment downtown he said.”

  “His friend has an apartment downtown that he uses when the guy is traveling on business. Lawrence has been married for a long time. He and wifey got two teenagers. Plus, his girlfriend has his six year old little girl. He looks good, and he’s got money, but he’s trouble.”

  “So am I,” Jazz reminded her.

  Kelli laughed hard. “You gonna play him? Please, let me watch.”

  “I’m not in the game no more, girl. I’m a business woman,” Jazz said with a wink. “Still, if he keeps bragging about his money…”

  “He ain’t lyin’ either. His family has real estate. He owns an insurance franchise and a couple of sandwich shops. He’s overdue to get played the way he’s been playin’ women for years.” Kelli said. “Shh, here he comes. Lookin’ whipped, too.”

  “I’ve got some urgent international business to take care of, you know time zones different over there. Can I call you sometime?” Lawrence stood close to Jazz with a hand on the bar.

  “I hear you got a wife, Lawrence,” Jazz drawled.

  He shot a grimace at Kelli. “I thought we were friends.”

  “I’m her friend,” Kellie replied with a grin.

  “When were you going to tell me about being a family man?” Jazz put in.

  “Look, we lead separate lives and… No, no, as corny as it sounds, I’m telling you the truth.” Lawrence had nerve enough to place a palm over his heart as if swearing an oath.

  “I like you, but I don’t know,” Jazz said, putting just enough indecision in her tone to give him hope. Bingo.

  “Look, look, I have a gorgeous apartment downtown like I said. I can offer you good times with no drama. I travel to Atlanta, New York and San Francisco a lot. Sometimes I go to Hawaii. Here’s my card. We can have beautiful times together. Promise you’ll call.”

  Jazz gazed at the white business card with gold embossed lettering. “You gave out about ten of those in the last month I’ll bet.”

  “I’ve been looking for the right one, and here she is. Please Monesha, give me a chance.” Lawrence put on a sincere serious expression.

  Kelli’s mouth flew open. She cleared her throat and turned away. “Let me go catch this customer.”

  “Okay,” Jazz said with a smile. She took the card and tucked it into her jacket pocket. “I’d love to see New York again.”

  “You will, baby girl. The best hotels, restaurants and more. Now don’t lose that ticket to paradise.”

  Before she could duck, he planted a kiss on her right cheek. Jazz managed not to punch him. “Yeah, sure.”

  Kelli watched him leave before she joined Jazz again. “What the fuck? Monesha. Warn me next time. I almost lost it.”

  “I wasn’t going to give that fool my real name,” Jazz said.

  They both burst out laughing. After a few more jokes at Lawrence’s expense, they exchanged chitchat to catch up. As usual Kelli had complaints about her grouchy mother and latest no-good man. She took breaks from talking to Jazz to serve up drinks. The other bartender worked alone while Kelli took a break. “Okay, so instead of being at your club holding it down, you’re here. Checking up on Lorraine is my guess,” Kelli said as she glanced around.

  “How come I can’t just be takin’ a night off to relax?”

  Kelli grunted. “Uh-huh.”

  “You nailed me. Damn, I need to be less obvious.” Jazz studied the crowd to see if anyone was paying too much attention to her.

  “Don’t worry. I haven’t spotted any of her crew up in here,” Kelli said, reading Jazz’s mind.

  “Yeah, but you haven’t worked for her in a while either,” Jazz retorted and kept looking.

  “True. I hear Lorraine has changed, and not in a good way. Bitch,” Kelli hissed. She clenched a fist.

  “She was never sweet and cuddly, Kelli. How the hell could she get worse?”

  “Lorraine got paranoid to the point of being a nut after her son got killed. The kid was a terror, so nobody was surprised when he got taken out.”

  Kelli walked off and wiped a spill on the polished bar surface. The customer wanted another drink. The male bartender nodded to Kelli, and she rejoined Jazz.

  “Yeah, he started fights everywhere he went,” Jazz said, taking up where they’d left off.

  “Needed his ass kicked, not that I’m saying somebody should have killed him. Anyway, Lorraine started goin’ off on all kinds of shit. Then she accused me of stealing liquor and money from the register. I told her she needed to look at her son and nephew. That heffa exploded and took a swing at me.” Kelli’s hands clenched.

  “Lorraine was lucky you didn’t swing back. She must have lost her mind knowing how you moved in the ring.” Jazz looked at her friend. Kelli had boxed from the age of sixteen and during her short stint in the Navy.

  “Yeah, well her six foot four inch thug son and two of his gangstas stood nearby. I was pissed, but not as crazy as her,” Kelli retorted. “But like my grandmamma always said, rest her soul, God ain’t sleep. Lorraine lost the club, buried a son, and saw another off to prison.”

  Jazz grinned. “You think the Big Guy delivered payback just for you?”

  “Nah, they done a whole lot worse to other people. I just enjoyed watchin’ though. Anyway, her old regulars have been coming here lately. They say a bunch of serious gangstas hang out at her new place. A couple of ‘em are known hit men still in their teens.”

  “I hope you know what they look like.” Jazz tried to look casual as she turned to lean against the bar. She sipped from her glass as she scanned the crowd. The door swung open and she muttered a curse word.

  “He’s fine. If he ain’t yours, introduce us,” Kelli smoothed down her cute short cut bob. She stood straight to give the world a view of her ample cleavage.

  “I don’t own nobody” Jazz kept her expression blank as Don strolled in. Yet irritation boiled toward full blow anger. He had the nerve to smile at her.

  “Hey, I lucked up when I walked in and found two beautiful women waitin’ for me.” Don spoke in a sing-song voice typical of a player showing off his charm. He wore baggy jeans and a designer red knit sweater that hugged his muscular body. He put swagger in his step the closer he got to them. “Hit me with a private room and set up of Cristal. Both y’all can join me.”

  “That simple, huh? All roads lead to you I guess,” Jazz shot back with attitude. When he slid onto the barstool next to her, she lowered her voice. “You got hella nerve following me. I don’t need a baby sitter.”

  “Apparently you do because coming here was a stupid bad idea,” Don replied softly. Then he winked at Kelli and spoke loudly. “C’mon, let’s get this party started. Three’s company.”

  “I can’t drink, sorry. But I’m ready to serve you up the best, man.” Kelli’s lips smiled, but her gaze darted around nervously. “Tell me what’s goin’ on, Jazz.”

  “Nothin’ except a dude stickin’ his nose where it don’t belong,” Jazz replied. She looked straight ahead and pointedly avoided looking at Don.

  “You shouldn’t be this close to Lorraine’s territory,” Don whispered to her.

  “Humph, Lorraine doesn’t have territory,” Jazz shot back with a snort. Then her mocking grin froze. “Unless you know something I don’t.”

  “If she had a part in what happened to Kyeisha like we think, then Lorraine is in something deep.” Don kept up the appearance of a man trying to get laid. His easy smile covered the serious theory he’d just shared.

  “S
hit, they messed her up bad and then…” Kelli pressed a wet dish cloth to her neck. “Look, y’all need to get outta here like ten minutes ago.”

  “You two scared little kids need to calm the hell down.” Jazz stopped when three laughing men came through the club’s front door.

  “What?” Don said at the same time as Kelli.

  Two squat but well built men stood on either side of a tall man. All three were various shades of brown, with the taller man being the color of light caramel. He wore a long sleeved white t-shirt rolled up to expose forearms covered with tattoos. His friends wore open collared shirts under denim jackets. They had tattoos on their necks. One of them was bald with a tattoo on one side of his head. Jazz didn’t know two of them, but the bald man sent a chill through her like jagged ice.

  “We need to go, like now,” Jazz said.

  “You know them,” Don murmured so low the music almost swept his words away.

  “One of Filipe’s guys used to ride with him as a bodyguard.” Jazz turned her back to the club and faced the bar again. “Bald guy.”

  “He looks dumb and dumber,” Don replied. Still he followed Jazz’s lead. Instead he positioned his body sideways.

  “Mateo is not stupid. He likes letting people assume he is, which makes him even more dangerous. Kelli, I sure as hell hope a back way out is near that private room.” Jazz spoke with the glass up to her face.

  “This way.” Kelli said. She moved stiffly with a tight smile on her face. She swung a small half door on hinges to come from behind the bar.

  “Try not to look scared shitless, Kelli,” Jazz mumbled.

  “Screw you comin’ in here draggin’ trouble into my life,” Kelli shot back low. Then she raised her voice to a normal level. “Yeah, y’all gonna have fun up in here.”

  Don placed a hand in the small of Jazz’s back. “Move faster ladies. Baldy has separated himself and is moving to our left.”

  “Shit,” Jazz and Kelli said at the same time.

  Chapter 14

  They kept walking and pretended not to notice Mateo moving parallel to them across the room. Then he was gone. Kelli led them down a hallway with muted lighting. The door to one of two private rooms had a keypad entry door. One glass wall showed the interior. A large black leather sectional sofa curved in a crescent shape. A round glass cocktail table sat in front of it. Around a corner down another hall was a door.