Devilish Details Page 19

  Kelli fumbled the code entry twice. She kept looking down the hall. “Damn it, what’s the number?”

  “Take a breath and slow down. We’re okay,” Don replied. He used his body to block her view of the way they’d come.

  “Right.” Kelli’s third try resulted in a click. She pushed the door open.

  “Hold on. We’re only going in there if this room has a back exit,” Jazz said.

  “This is the assistant manager’s office. It does have a back door. C’mon.” Kelli led them in. Once she shut the door Kelli panted with anxiety.

  “Thanks. Stay here for a minute. They’ll go to the other side exit door looking for us.” Don nodded for Jazz to follow.

  “No problem. Hey,” Kelli called before they pushed through the heavy steel door. When Jazz and Don stopped, she pointed at them. “Call me once you’re driving off. If I don’t hear from you in fifteen minutes, I’m calling the police.”

  “Check. Tell them officer in need of back-up,” Don said.

  “You’re runnin’ with a cop?” Kelli blurted out staring at Jazz in surprise.

  Jazz shrugged . “Some days a girl needs protection.”

  “This one sure does. Let’s move.” Don pulled Jazz by one arm.

  “We gotta have a talk for sure,” Kelli called out before the door bumped shut.

  “Everybody is a comedian,” Jazz muttered.

  She had sense enough to let Don continue in go first. They went down a narrow alley between Grown Folks and the building next door. A single flood light illuminated the way. Just like a low budget crime movie, a figure stood at the end of the alley. Don turned, pushing Jazz ahead of him. A high wooden fence stood about ten yards from the other building. They headed past a back door toward the side parking lot of the offices of a temporary labor company. Another figure, this one tall, waited for them.

  “Hey Jazz, what’s your hurry? Let’s talk old times,” Mateo called out.

  “Don’t stop,” Don said.

  “That’s your plan? That thug ain’t gonna just step aside cause you say, ‘Excuse me, dude.’”

  “Just follow my lead. We can’t get boxed up here. He obviously wants to get information first. They could have shot us before now. Big man there will back up as we get closer. They’ll circle us.” Don pushed Jazz to move.

  “Oh, so you’re claustrophobic. You’d rather die in the open. Great,” Jazz whispered.

  “Yeah, come right this way,” the tall man called out in good humor.

  The second man followed them. Mateo emerged from the shadows of the back alley minutes after Jazz and Don. Jazz glanced around. They were in a parking lot. A side street with no traffic led to other businesses. All were closed.

  “Hey, we just came out to have a good time. Sorry, but we drank up most of my money. The most I have is ten dollars.” Don held his arms out.

  The other short man snorted. “Dude, he thinks we wanna rob his pocket change.”

  Mateo laughed. “No, home. I’m just sayin’ hello to my old pal right here. What is up, Jazz? Still lookin’ all good and shit.”

  Don turned to Jazz with a scowl. “So I gotta deal with a jealous boyfriend. You told me you didn’t have a man.”

  “I haven’t seen this guy in almost three years, baby. I don’t know why he’s trippin’,” Jazz said.

  “Shit, we can’t walk two steps in a club without stumblin’ up on some guy you was with. Damn, girl. How many dudes you been bumpin’?” Don spat out waving his arms.”

  “Aw hell naw you ain’t talkin’ to me like that. Mutha, I’ll kick your ass to several curbs if you don’t watch it,” Jazz shot back. She faced him with both hands on her hips.

  “You ain’t special. There’s about ten of you waitin’ in the club. Another ten in the next club, too.” Don gave a contemptuous grunt. He looked at Mateo. “She’s all yours. I’m outta here and on to somethin’ better.”

  “You ain’t walkin’ off after talkin’ to me like I’m dirt,” Jazz shrieked.

  She leapt onto Don’s back and pounded it with her fists. He attempted to shake her off while swinging in a circle. Jazz kept up a stream of cuss words, insulting Don and his parents. Obviously taken by surprise, the three men stood watching them. The tall man laughed until he bent at the waist.

  “Aw man, you can’t let her get away with this shit. Slap her ass down.” The shorter man joined his companion in laughter.

  “Hey you fools,” Mateo yelled at the men. “Pull these other fools apart. This ain’t no damn floor show.”

  Don and Jazz continued to tussle as the three men approached. Mateo looked angry and disgusted. His friends still laughed as they strode closer. They traded jokes about Jazz getting the upper hand on Don. Jazz prayed fifteen minutes would be up soon. Never had she hoped to see the police before in her life.

  Mateo reached them first. “Break it the fuck up. I ain’t got time to watch Divorce Court out here,” he growled.

  Before he could speak again Don landed a punch upside his head. Stunned, Mateo stumbled back. Don didn’t give him time to recover. He hit him again. Jazz pulled out her pistol and shot twice over the heads of the other men. Both froze in the act of running. Don and Mateo traded blows, but Don’s longer arms and weight gave him an advantage.

  “Y’all must don’t know ‘bout me,” Jazz shouted. “I don’t bluff. You move, I’ll shoot.”

  “You can’t shoot us both at the same time,” the tall man said, his gaze darting at Mateo’s battle with Don.

  “I can shoot one though. When he’s down, I’ll aim for the one still standing. This is an automatic. I’m good with it, too.” Jazz moved away from the men as she spoke.

  “We can take her, man. She’s all talk,” the tall man rasped aside to his buddy.

  “Try me, muthafuckas,” Jazz screamed. “My nerves bad from this drama. I might shoot you on general principle.”

  “Dude, this ain’t even our fight,” the shorter man said.

  “You want Mateo lookin’ for us cause we left him?” his friend replied with a frown. He glowered at Jazz. “You ain’t got the guts.”

  Jazz pulled the trigger. The shorter man yelped and grabbed his thigh. “I meant to hit you in the stomach, bitch.”

  “Fuck this.”

  The tall man pulled a gun and fired at Jazz. Without hesitation Jazz shot twice more at both men. Don and Mateo hit the ground still locked in battle. Within seconds Mateo lay still on his stomach.

  “Dumpster to your right,” Don shouted to Jazz just as the sound of sirens cut through the air.

  Jazz followed his voice running at top speed. The next five seconds became a blur of sounds. Gunfire mixed with sirens, running feet and shouting voices. She felt a punch on her shoulder but kept running. She barreled into Don’s solid body. When she tried to keep going past him, Don wrapped her in a bear hug. Jazz couldn’t hear his voice as she fought to get free. The powerful urge to flee drove her. Don lifted her until her boots dangled about a foot from the ground. He managed to twist her around until they were face to face. Then he shook her hard.

  “Stop running. The cops will shoot you. They can’t tell who’s who out here,” he said, his words a scratchy whisper.

  She slumped against his chest, heaving in gulps of air. Don comforted her then gestured for Jazz to lean against the dumpster. He did hand signals that Jazz took to mean she should follow him. Before she could catch her breath, Don walked out from the relative safety of the dumpster into a flood of bright white light.

  “Officer Don Addison. I’m going to reach for my wallet,” he yelled.

  “Keep walking with your hands up, sir,” a deep voice replied. “Tell me which pocket and I’ll get it.”

  Jazz slid to the ground, eyes squeezed closed. The voices of the other police officers sounded like white men . She shook so hard she was sure the dumpster would start to vibrate. Jazz felt tears rolling down her cheeks. “Do what they say, Don,” she whispered.

  “Look, just let me show yo
u,” Don started.

  “What the hell. The police out here tryin’ to kill more black men,” an angry voice shouted.

  The sound of a crowd from the club burst forth, a babble of about fifty outraged voices. Police officers ordered them to back away. The pop of breaking glass mixed with shouts.

  “Wait a damn minute officers,” Don yelled. A series of booms muffled the rest of his words.

  Feet running away. Flashing blue lights crisscrossed the alleys. Jazz crawled in slow motion toward a prone tall figure. Red sweater. Blue jeans. She screamed his name twice before the nightmarish picture went black.

  *

  Jazz woke up in a hospital bed with a start, sitting straight up with a whimper. Two pairs of arms circled her instantly as she panted for breath. Her sister’s familiar scent, an expensive perfume she wore daily, soothed Jazz.

  “You’re safe, honey. It’s going to be okay,” Willa said as she smoothed Jazz’s tangled hair down with one hand.

  “Yes, they have those criminals locked up in jail. That’s where they should be.” MiMi hugged her gently.

  “Don,” Jazz managed to gasp.

  Willa’s father seemed to appear out of nowhere. “He got shot, but it’s not life threatening. Just a flesh wound. He was released this morning.”

  “Huh?” Jazz blinked at him.

  “You’ve been here overnight, sweetie.” Willa tried to say more, but got choked up. Willa covered her mouth as she sobbed.

  “Come with me so you don’t upset her.” Mama Ruby led Willa out of the room.

  Papa Elton fluffed the pillows on the bed. “Lay back now.”

  Jazz found herself sobbing against his chest two seconds later. He patted her and rumbled paternal words of comfort, something she wasn’t used to at all. His solid embrace combined with his tenderness soon worked. She let him ease her back onto the pillows. Papa Elton wiped her face. Jazz even let him hold the tissue while she blew her nose.

  “Thanks,” she rasped, voice raw from crying like a baby. “Sorry I lost it. Hope I didn’t get your shirt all wet and nasty.”

  “Ah forget it, baby. I’ve had my kids do worse on my shirt,” Papa Elton said with a grin.

  “No details please,” Jazz joked back. She sighed and closed her eyes but they popped open again. “How is Don? Those damn thugs hurt him, I’m gonna—”

  MiMi appeared to her left. “Hey, girl. You won’t believe this, but a deputy shot Don. Thought he was one of the bad guys. Didn’t give him time to show his ID and…”

  “MiMi, not now,” Papa Elton cut her off.

  Jazz sat up again, but Papa Elton firmly pushed her against the pillows. “Raise the bed.”

  “You should go back to sleep,” he said.

  “I can’t sleep until I know what happened to Don and how he’s doing. He got hurt because of me and—” Jazz couldn’t finish. Another crying jag threatened. She heaved deep breaths to shake it off.

  “Okay, Okay. Let me work this thing.” Papa Elton found the right button.

  The bed rose so that Jazz could see more of the room. The obligatory white painted walls greeted her. To her left, a window with closed white blinds kept out the sunlight.

  “Where am I?” Jazz looked at Papa Elton.

  “Our Lady of the Lake Hospital. They’ve taken great care of you,” he replied.

  “I can’t believe they let Don go home so soon. Somebody should check on him,” Jazz said.

  “Hmm.” MiMi glanced at Papa Elton who cleared his throat. “His ex-wife took him to her house.”

  “She seems nice.” Papa Elton shrugged when MiMi shot him a “What the hell?” kind of look.

  Jazz sighed. “Okay, so he’s not hurt that bad if they let him go home. That’s good.”

  “You’re taking the news he went home with his ex well. I’d be jumping out of here to get my man,” MiMi blurted. She shrugged when Papa Elton gave her a “Shut up” look. Not that MiMi cared. “I’m just sayin’.”

  “He’s not ‘my man’, MiMi. We’re… it’s complicated. And no, I’m not gonna explain because it’s none of your business,” Jazz said before words came from MiMi’s open mouth. “Who shot Don?”

  “Girl, bullets were flying. They caught one of the guys that tried to attack y’all, the one that did the shooting. The other two got away.” MiMi sat down in one of two chairs near the bed.

  “They determined that the bullet that hit Don was police issue.” Papa Elton frowned. “The local NAACP is having a field day talking about profiling. All three deputies were white.”

  “Humph, he needs to sue their butts off. So were you two just out on a date or were you tracking down clues? Channel 33 news reported that this might be a gang hit related to your murder trial and—”

  “I said not now, MiMi,” Papa Elton broke in. Before he could say more a deep voice came from the door.“Excuse me folks. I’m Chief Detective Armand Miller with the Baton Rouge Police. This is Sergeant Evans.” Miller held up his ID and nodded to his subordinate at the same time.

  “Morning,” Evans said. His gaze swept the room taking in details. He seemed most interested in MiMi’s shapely legs extending from her blood red skirt.

  “We need to talk to Ms. Vaughn. I checked with her doctor, and she’s good with it,” Miller added before Papa Elton could object.

  “She’s banged up and traumatized,” MiMi spoke instead, her smile aimed at Evans. “Maybe give her more time to recover. Jazz was very upset about Detective Addison. Cried her eyes out, poor thing.”

  “I’m fine, MiMi,” Jazz said with force, glaring at her. “I’m not falling apart. Don can take care of himself.”

  “Sure,” MiMi said with a sympathetic smile. She glanced at the two detectives as if to say “She’s trying to be brave.”

  “After all she’s been through, MiMi is right,” Papa Elton advised.

  “I’m up for it,” Jazz said with determination.

  “Good. I’m afraid we need to do this in private.” Miller tilted his head to one side as he looked at Papa Elton and MiMi.

  “She should have her lawyer here,” MiMi said with a sideways glance at Papa Elton.

  “We’re interviewing you as a victim. This isn’t connected to your pending case,” Miller said smoothly. “Excuse us please.”

  Evans opened the door to reinforce the invitation to leave. Jazz saw Willa and Mama Ruby in the hallway. Both wore twin anxious expressions. She waved to reassure them. Under the circumstances she could muster up a smile. Papa Elton and MiMi left. Once the door whisked shut, Evans stood in front of it.

  “You gonna tell the reporters which idiot cop shot one of his own? Y’all sure loved talking to the media about me,” Jazz drawled.

  Miller glanced at Evans seemingly as a warning. The younger man pressed his lips together. Then Miller turned his gaze back to Jazz. “Evans, go interview the family.”

  “Sir?” Evans blinked at him.

  “Just do it,” Miller said.

  “Yes sir.” Evans went out.

  Miller turned back to Jazz. “Tell me everything, from the time you met Don for drinks until the shooting started.”

  “I didn’t meet Detective Addison for drinks. He must have been following me as part of your investigation or something. I sure as hell didn’t invite him,” Jazz said evenly.

  “So you had no idea he was going to show up at Grown Folks?” Miller took out a small notepad and pen.

  “I just said so. I’m guessing those guys decided to rob him or something. He looked like an out of place bourgie guy looking for action.” Jazz glanced at Miller. “The place was crowded but I spotted him. You better send him back to undercover school.”

  “Detective Addison wasn’t undercover, Ms. Vaughn. Something I’m sure you know,” Miller said dryly.

  “Do I? He’s your employee. Besides, don’t ask me. Ask him.” Jazz relaxed against the pillow.

  “I plan to real soon,” Miller shot back with a shade of annoyance in his voice.

  �
�My friend says his ex-wife picked him up. Sounds like they’re getting back together soon. Another kink in your story that he’s hooked up with me,” Jazz said mildly. “With all that home cooking and tender loving care, it will be like the old days.”

  “Nyla is a good woman, and a fine mother. That would be a good thing.” Miller wrote on the pad without looking at her.

  “Very sweet, but nothing to do with me. Anyway, I went out the back way to shake him. Hell, can’t a girl hang out with friends these days. Pissed me off. These guys must have followed him out. That’s all I know.” Jazz looked at Miller with a “my story and I’m sticking to it” expression.

  “You’re saying those guys weren’t after you? Funny coincidence,” Miller drawled.

  “Hilarious,” Jazz said with a grunt.

  Miller squinted at her as he shoved the notepad and pen into an inside pocket of his coat. “Truth time, Ms. Vaughn. Don and I go back a long way, so I know him well. He’s trying to protect you for some crazy ass reason. . Don’t pull him into danger if you care about him. Bad things seem to follow you. He’s got kids, a career, and a future.”

  “And I’m climbing up from the gutter to drag him down, is that your point?” Jazz looked at him steadily.

  “Cops get hooked on the adrenaline rush of street life. You’re sexy, smart, and you talk a good game. Light years away from the steady type of life Nyla could give him. He understands you and your world. Nyla, well she can’t connect to the dark crap we see every day on the job.” Miller wore a stone face. “Leave him out of it.”

  “You want me to be noble. I should agree to step aside so him and sweet Nyla can ride into the sunset. Last time I checked, Don was a grown ass man who didn’t need a nursemaid.” Jazz raised an eyebrow at him. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need a nap.”

  “If this latest incident ties into the murder, I’ll find out. If your gang banging ex-boyfriend, Filipe Perez, is helping you, I’ll know about it. Soon.” Miller fixed a laser stare on Jazz.