Devilish Details Read online

  “I can get the city to back off,” Lorraine said.

  “Your pals are all either fired or in jail for taking bribes,” Jazz shot back bluntly.

  Lorraine grimaced for a second, then her expression eased. “I can make sure plenty of folks around the neighborhood testify for you. They’ll say this place ain’t as bad as others say. They’ll say you feed the homeless and hungry kids.”

  “Why would they listen to your pals? You got a dirty record when it comes to obeying the law,” Jazz replied.

  “Friends of friends with no criminal records. I put some layers between them and me. There’s a least a couple of city employees left who won’t scratch the surface,” Lorraine said.

  “You spread around some cash, huh? Okay, but the city closing me down is the least of my worries. What about the murder charge? Only right you fix that since you set me up,” Jazz said matter-of-factly with a shrug.

  “Hmm, maybe I can find some witnesses that saw Kyeisha with unknown guys that night.” Lorraine glanced into the office warily. “I’ve heard talk she got in with a bad crowd.”

  “What? Oh, you think I’m recording our little social visit or something. Look around. I’m not dumb enough to have a camera in here, even I was expectin’ company.” Jazz nodded an invitation for Lorraine to check again.

  “These days cameras can be anywhere and look like anything.” Despite her words, Lorraine’s gaze darted from the walls, the desk, and back to Jazz several times. A full minute ticked by.

  “You’re not into computers, which is why you had those nice notebooks for me to find.” Jazz smiled at Lorraine.

  Only the slight tightening of her jaw gave away Lorraine’s fury. Then she smiled back at Jazz easily. “You won’t get anything out of the notebooks.”

  Jazz started to say more when the screen of her cell phone lit up to display caller ID. MiMi’s grin looked back at her. What the hell did she want? “Why don’t we let the police decide if they’re useful or not.”

  Lorraine stared hard at Jazz. “I can help you out a lot more than the police. Including that cute cop you been screwin’. The rest of his cop friends want to see you go down for Kyeisha’s killin’.”

  “Maybe so. But this is still my property. You’re trespassin’ and armed. In Louisiana I could shoot you and claim self-defense,” Jazz said.

  “I’m tired of playin’ this silly ass game. I didn’t come here without back-up. And why you think that fancy security system ain’t workin’, huh? Why your boy Byron ain’t textin’ you back? Cause he’s my boy, that’s why. ” Lorraine gestured with her head toward Jazz’s desk. “Go on, check your phone. Nothin’.”

  “You’re lyin’.”

  Lorraine laughed with genuine amusement in her voice. “You sure?”

  Jazz felt a stab of cold fear. Her words rang with truth, setting off more alarms bells in her head. Tyretta didn’t know the security system or cameras, but Byron worked with the installer. Byron hadn’t known the significance of the old papers until Jazz told him. He could have been feeding Lorraine inside information instead of Tyretta. Or maybe it was both of them. Jazz’s mind swirled with the effort to sort through truth, lies, and deceptions. Every conversation, suggestion, or gesture for months took on a new meaning. “I know you’ve had a shock. Let’s call it a draw with the guns, alright? You show me where in here you got the notebooks. I take them and leave. Sure I got help, but they can’t get in. I came inside alone.” Lorraine spoke like she was negotiating an everyday business deal.

  “How’d you get in here? I saw Byron lock the doors. The cameras were still working,” Jazz said.

  “You couldn’t watch every door every minute. While you were busy, I slipped in. I hid in the storeroom until everybody was gone. Kinda comfy in there. I had water and some wings. Taste good, too. All I had to do was wait.” Lorraine seemed relaxed now. “Like I said, you can’t figure out what’s in my old tablets. Just some scribblin’.”

  Jazz glanced at her cell phone. MiMi, chatty even in text, had kept tapping away on her end. “You mean the code with names of your son’s drug and illegal guns customers? Filipe won’t be happy to know you decided to write a book that includes him. I’ll bet some of your other business partners won’t be happy either.”

  “You’re lyin’, bitch,” Lorraine hissed. She started to move.

  “I wouldn’t if I was you,” Jazz warned. “I may be so upset I just start shootin’. You got a problem. I’m not the only one that knows about the notebooks.”

  “What are you sayin’?” Lorraine asked, but from the way her brown face turned gray it was clear she already knew.

  “If my back-up doesn’t hear from me, she’ll start sending e-mails to Crime Stoppers, the police, and the DA’s office. No tellin’ how creative my crew will get. They love spreadin’ juicy news.”

  “I should have killed your ass back when you stole my property. Let’s put down our guns and fight it out. Shooting you won’t be as satisfyin’ as stompin’ in your damn head until I see your brains,” Lorraine shouted.

  “I ain’t into hand-to-hand combat, fool. A bullet in your head will do me just fine,” Jazz retorted. “I didn’t have to steal your property. You practically gave it to me, and thanks by the way. You should have had sense enough to keep cash on hand to pay the taxes.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Lorraine snarled. She gripped the gun tighter, but didn’t raise it.

  “Yeah, the truth hurts like a mutha, don’t it? Wait a minute. You hid your cash away, or maybe your punk ass son stole it. That’s why you didn’t have the money. Damn, I thought you woulda planned better.” Jazz laughed as Lorraine breathed out in angry puffs like an enraged cow.

  “Shuttin’ your big mouth for good is worth any price.” “Uh-huh. You’re back-up is runnin’ late,” Jazz said, putting as much taunt in her tone as possible. “You can’t seem to control your crew. Ding, more points off.”

  Lorraine started to speak again, but instead she darted a look at the window. Then she stared at Jazz again. A slow smile pulled up her full lips. The tinkle of broken glass alerted Jazz and she ducked. A pop followed a split second later. Lorraine fired a shot at her. Jazz felt a punch to her shoulder, but she managed to scramble behind her desk.

  “Byron ain’t comin’ like I said, bitch. Here’s the deal. You’re going to get killed by a burglar. Naturally he’ll never get caught. Tomorrow your employees won’t be able to get into the club. Maybe a day or so will go by before your sister finds your body. But tonight we’ll have plenty of time to find my notebooks and disappear like ghosts,” Lorraine called out.

  When she peeked around the desk corner, Jazz saw Lorraine still stood outside in the hallway. “You been watchin’ too many cop shows, Lorraine. Byron wasn’t my only back-up. My sister knows I’m here.”

  “Bullshit. She’d have shown up by now,” Lorraine said.

  “I think she’s hit. You want me to come in? I can shoot the lock off the door.” A female voice came from the window.

  “Don’t be so damn stupid. That might take three or four shots. Neighbors would call the police,” Lorraine yelled.

  “I didn’t know you were so handy with a gun, Tyretta,” Jazz shouted as she shifted position. She winced at a burning pain in her right shoulder. Her right arm started to feel weak, and blood made her sleeve stick to it.

  “Shit,” Lorraine hissed.

  Jazz had been distracted, but then she heard the sound. Sirens whining in the distance got closer. Help on the way. She fought against the dizzy feeling that threatened to leave her helpless.

  “You lied, huh? If Byron was with you Tyretta would already be inside. He’s got keys.” Jazz forced confidence into her voice. She fired a round into the ceiling to scare them, and in hopes it would be heard outside.

  “I’m gone get outta here,” Tyretta screeched through the broken window.

  “You leave, and I’ll hunt your ass down. Get your shit together and shoot through the back door,” Lorraine shout
ed back.

  “I thought you said…”

  “Shut the fuck up and do it,” Lorraine screamed.

  Jazz laughed and fired again. “Will she make it before I put a hole in you?”

  “Shit!”

  Feet pounded down the hallway as Lorraine abandoned her position in favor of escape. Jazz forgot about being hurt as she raced after her. Two muffled pops came from the direction of the steel reinforced back door. She couldn’t see Lorraine though. Police sirens blocked out other noise and then went silent.

  “I know you in here. Won’t take ‘em long to get in, Lorraine. You’re outnumbered and out gunned,” Jazz yelled, but kept her head down. She decided not to risk going into the club. Instead she crouched in the hallway.

  “Fine, I’ll catch a charge. You’re still going to trial for a killing,” Lorraine shouted back.

  “They’ve got Tyretta by now. A hundred bucks says she tells ‘em everything within the first two hours,” Jazz replied. She laughed loudly.

  Lorraine let fly a string of curse words. “I don’t give a shit no more.”

  Gunfire hit the walls outside the hallway. As Jazz scrambled away intense pain brought back the dizziness. Lorraine kept firing and cussing. Jazz fired back in a desperate attempt to hold her off. But Lorraine seemed enraged to the point of insanity. Voices filled the club, then more shots. Nauseated, Jazz crawled along the floor toward her office. Boots thumped against the floor behind her. She shuddered in anticipation of a bullet to her head, but spun to face the attack with gun in hand.

  “Jazz, stop!” A tall silhouette loomed against the dim light. “It’s over.”

  “I know,” she whispered and blacked out.

  *

  Sirens. Blurred lights and the sensation of movement roused Jazz from a deep sleep. She blinked hard at a strange white face.

  “Good thing you ran out of rounds,” a deep male voice rumbled.

  She turned her head toward it. Byron’s brown eyes stretched wide with fear. Perspiration beaded on his forehead. His face looked odd, one side larger than the other. A hand stretched out to him, and Byron accepted a towel. He dabbed his forehead.

  “We let you ride to keep her calm. But you have to sanitize yourself,” the EMT said softly.

  “Yeah, don’t let that funky sweat drip on me,” Jazz mumbled.

  “Smart ass.” Byron grinned at her, relief easing the furrows in his brow.

  “I sign your checks,” she said, her voice came out low and scratchy. “What happened to you?”

  “Dudes jumped me and…”

  “No talking for now,” the EMT ordered.

  Jazz didn’t protest because she couldn’t. A soft darkness pulled her in a hole as her eyes closed. When she woke again, Willa and Don leaned over her from opposite sides. Willa gently touched her arm seconds later. Don’s taught expression relaxed in relief. Jazz tried to talk around the cotton in her mouth, realized it was her tongue and grimaced. A cup with a straw appeared in Willa’s hand and Jazz drank.

  “Unless we at the funeral home, I think y’all oughta look a bit happier,” Jazz managed.

  “Ten minutes only, please,” a crisp voice said and the door whisked shut.

  “The nurse,” Willa replied to the questioning gaze Jazz shot at her.

  “Byron?” Jazz looked from Willa to Don.

  “He’s fine. Two guys jumped him on the way back for his little stake out. He fought them off for a good ten minutes before we showed,” Don rumbled. “You two need a good long lecture on playing cop.”

  “Oh she’ll be hearing from me,” Willa put in firmly. She kissed Jazz’s forehead.

  “Lorraine?”

  “You managed to plug her shooting wild. Well, we’ll find out for sure once we do the ballistic. I don’t think she was hit by one of the officers though,” Don said.

  Jazz raised her head, but Willa pushed her back. “Is she…”

  “Not dead. She’s in critical but stable condition. She’ll make it to trial,” he replied.

  Willa gently tucked a blanket around Jazz. “Tyretta is talking non-stop. She’s trying to get a deal. Girl, Lorraine…”

  “Is the top gangsta,” Jazz broke in. “Lorraine kept that nice and quiet. I’ll bet anyone who found out ended up dead.”

  “We’re gonna clean up the trash, get those thugs off the streets. We’re rounding up her crew now. I’ll bet we solve some drive-bys and more.” Don gave a satisfied grunt at the solid police work ahead, the reason he loved his job.

  Jazz looked at him. “There’ll be plenty of young dudes ready to take their place. I bet some guy is makin’ moves to be the next leader right now.”

  “Yeah, but I’ll worry about them later.”

  Willa smiled down at her. “Hey, let’s get to the good news. Phillips says the charges will likely be dropped in the next few days. The police have to submit the results of their investigation of course but with Tyretta being so very cooperative, you’re in the clear.”

  “The city is backing off closing you down, too. Your big time suspect is linked to the complaints they got. They don’t want the publicity.” Don’s grin indicated he played a role.

  “Since you didn’t get yourself killed, I won’t fuss too much about the chances you took,” Willa added with a scowl. “Okay, before time is up, I’m going to let Mikayla and Anthony set eyes on you. They imagined the worst.”

  “Okay,” Jazz said with a sigh as she watched Willa hurry out. “I hate the kids being scared like that.”

  Don leaned his long frame down and kissed her softly on the lips. He drew back to stare into her eyes. “Promise me you’re gonna become a regular boring girlfriend from now on.”

  Jazz blinked at him in a rare moment of speechlessness. All she could get out was a weak, “Okay.”

  “I’m consider that a sworn oath. Now I gotta move. I’m on desk duty, but they need me to help with the investigation. Oh, you’ll be happy to know Armand decided I’m not throwing my career down the toilet. Y’all might be pals in a minute.” Don gave a deep hearty laugh at the expression Jazz put on.

  “Not sure I wanna be his buddy,” Jazz wisecracked. She accepted a goodbye kiss with a smile.

  Anthony and Mikayla came in looking just as terrified as Willa had said they were. Her nephew tried to look brave, but Jazz saw him examining her bandages. Mikayla looked on the verge of tears as she approached the hospital bed. Soon they were smiling as Jazz joked around to show them she wasn’t headed for the grave. The nurse came in to politely but firmly usher them out. She allowed Willa a few minutes longer.

  “You’re coming to my house,” Willa said. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “Please ask your aunt not to sing so loud this time,” Jazz retorted with a roll of her eyes. Then she smiled with affection at her big sister.

  With her family reassured and gone, Jazz settled against the surprisingly comfortable hospital pillows. The television set high over her was on a bland nature show, the sound muted. Her eyes drifted shut in the cushioned quiet enforced by nurses. She started when the door eased open.

  MiMi slipped in sideways like she was used to sneaking around hospitals. She sat down in a chair near the bed. “They can’t keep me out.”

  “Damn, MiMi. I’ve gotten into enough trouble already. Don’t get me kicked out of the hospital,” Jazz blurted out. Then she laughed until it hurt. Literally. Still she couldn’t help it. MiMi looked like a Black American Princess burglar in designer clothes.

  “Shh, keep it down. I just wanted to see how you were doing for myself. That stiff old nurse can’t tell me what to do.” MiMi sniffed. “So you’re feeling better?”

  “Oh yeah, since I’m off the hook for murder. Best freakin’ medicine in the world.” Jazz raised an eyebrow at her. “And?”

  “Hmm, what do you mean ‘and’? I came to check on my friend.” MiMi brushed back her long hair. A few seconds went by as she examined her fingernails. “So those notebooks might tell us where Lorraine hid a lot
of money or how much she stole from Filipe…”

  Jazz managed to raise her uninjured arm and clap a hand over her eyes. “Oh, hell no. Here we go again.”

  *

  If you enjoyed Devilish Details please let other readers in on the fun! Leave a review. Thanks!

  Triple Trouble Mystery Series:

  BEST ENEMIES - Book 1

  DEVILISH DETAILS - Book 2

  PRETTY DANGEROUS - Book 3 (coming in 2015)

  Visit www.lynnemery.com

  About the Author

  Mix knowledge of voodoo, Louisiana politics and forensic social work with the dedication to write fiction while working each day as a clinical social worker, and you get a snapshot of author Lynn Emery. Lynn has been a contributing consultant to the magazine Today’s Black Woman for three articles about contemporary relationships between black men and women. She sold her first novel in 1995 to Kensington publishing for their groundbreaking Arabesque line. NIGHT MAGIC went on to be recognized for Excellence in Romance Fiction by Romantic Times Magazine. Her third novel, AFTER ALL, became a movie produced by BET. Holly Robinson Peete stars as Michelle Toussaint, an investigative television reporter. In 2004 Lynn won three coveted Emma Awards. She was chosen Author of the Year and her novel KISS LONLEY GOODBYE won Best Novel and Favorite Hero. GOOD WOMAN BLUES was nominated for the Romantic Times Best Mainstream Multicultural of 2005

  www.lynnemery.com