After All Page 4

Nathan leaned his elbows on the desk. “Yeah, but think of the pay off. My guy at the DA's office says they just put another investigator on it.”

  “Sure, but they could decide there isn't enough evidence to move on. So while I'm chasing a possibility, as promising as it may seem now, Jennifer will be flashing her pearly white fangs once a week like clockwork.” Michelle let out a dispirited groan.

  “Yeah, but with the inside track you'll have on the Housing Authority story, you could get an exclusive from the DA. Now, stop bitching, Toussaint. Get out there and do your job.”Nathan had spent more time being supportive than he usually was with reporters, but now his patience was exhausted. He crossed to the door and swung it open.

  “You're right. After all, tomorrow's another day.”Michelle parodied Scarlet O'Hara's last line.

  “That's the spirit. Now go.”Grinning, Nathan jerked a thumb towards the newsroom.

  ***

  “Thanks for coming with me to this thing.”Michelle Pulled the shawl up around her shoulders. Despite the cool October night, it kept her warm.

  “Are you kidding? This place is gonna be ground zero for all the fine looking African-American professional males within a fifty mile radius.”Laree tugged at her form fitting dress as she struggled to get out of Michelle's sporty Mustang.

  “They will be with their wives, fiancés and girlfriends. So don't get your hopes too high.”

  “Get real, relationships begin and end every day. Just step back and watch me work my magic.”Laree pulled the matching coat to her dress around her shoulders.

  “You ought to be ashamed, girl.” Michelle said, laughing as Laree swung her hips.

  As they entered the banquet hall, both scanned the crowd. The tickets purchased were to benefit the local Big Buddy program sponsored by a coalition of African-American churches and businessmen.

  Laree let out a low whistle of appreciation.”I have never seen so many furs and diamonds in one room. Look, there's Maureen Clarence-Harrington. Oh, and Shirley Aucoin. Making the rounds so everybody can see their jewelry.”

  “Yeah. These kinds of see and be seen happenings really bore me. If it wasn't to benefit such a great program, believe me I wouldn't be here,” Michelle muttered in an undertone so as not to be overheard by the others seated at their table.

  “Sugar, I'm sorry Dosu had to be out of town. But I'm happy for me. Hi there. Hello.”Laree waved gaily at several acquaintances at nearby tables, one of which was a handsome man who was quite dashing in a dark gray tux.

  “Laree, don't you see that woman next to him? She's giving us a dirty look,” Michelle whispered.

  “That's Theron Mackey. He's been divorced for a year and he's fair game. Like my grandmamma says, if you can't hold your man, hold your hand.”Laree patted her long black hair.

  “How is Miss Hannah doing?”Michelle smiled at the waitress, then frowned at the bland plate of food before her.

  “Going strong. Got a new boyfriend, child. He's a younger man, sixty-nine. She just turned seventy-seven. Mama and my aunts and uncles are too embarrassed.”Laree giggled.

  “Good for her,” Michelle said

  “Hell yes. I wanna grow up to be just like my grandma.”

  A distinguished gray-haired woman wearing a heavy gold necklace with matching dangling earrings approached. The blue sequined top she wore glittered as she walked beneath the chandeliers suspended over the banquet hall.

  “Ms. Toussaint, so glad to see you. Wonderful turnout isn't it?”

  “Hello, Mrs. Harrington. Yes, it is. This is my friend, Laree Payne.”

  “Nice to see you. I hope you're going to do a report on us. We need more positive exposure.”Mrs. Harrington flashed a professional smile.

  “Yes, we will.”Michelle drummed her fingers then realizing it, she put her hand in her lap.

  “Marvelous, dear. Now you enjoy yourselves.”Mrs. Harrington floated on to the next table leaving behind a strong whiff of expensive cologne.

  “Geez, that woman has a personality like a fingernail across a blackboard. She's a self-important, upper class snob. Michelle spoke in a low, tight voice.

  “I thought she seemed okay.”Laree was busily devouring the chicken marsala all the while checking out the other guests.

  “Mrs. Maureen Clarence-Harrington is in one of my mother's social clubs. Believe me, those women are more interested in status and appearances than the work these charities do in the community.”Michelle glanced around with distaste.

  “Lighten up. The people who are dedicated do-gooders need money; the people with money need to think they're doing their share. It all balances out, right? Now let's get back to the important stuff. You know Theron Mackey, introduce us.”Laree was again favoring him with a big smile.

  “No way. That lady isn't going to come after me with her butter knife,” Michelle hissed at her.

  Their good-natured argument was cut short when they realized they were attracting the attention of the other guests at their table. To Laree's disappointment, and Michelle's relief, they had been joined by an elderly couple and two middle-aged women. For the rest of the evening they made small talk with them. A jazz quartet provided music and a portion of the banquet hall had been cleared for dancing. Laree was soon on the dance floor with a succession of men. Michelle turned down all requests preferring to observe.

  “May I sit down?”

  Michelle started at the familiar voice behind her. Turning, she saw Anthony standing next to an empty chair. The middle-aged ladies had decided to call it a night after the speech.

  “Please?”Anthony took a deep breath.

  “Fine, sure.”Michelle looked away.

  Anthony cleared his throat several times.”We raised a lot of money selling tickets. And the raffle was a big hit, too.”He tapped the table with a spoon.

  “You helped organize this?”Michelle began to turn back to him, and then stopped herself.

  “Yes. I'm an honorary board member. I started being a Big Buddy in my senior year of high school, remember? ‘Course with the business and all, I don't have the time since I got back home.”

  “That's right, I'd forgotten. I wonder how Jamal's doing.” Michelle sat a little less rigidly next to him. She remembered the young boy Anthony had devoted so much time to help. Jamal was fourteen and Anthony nineteen when they were paired by the program. They had been so close that all their friends had teasingly calling Jamal Anthony Junior. Neither Anthony nor Jamal had minded one bit.

  “Pretty good actually. His mother says he finished at the vocational school. He's working for a air conditioning and refrigeration repair shop in Lake Charles. Hey, he's getting married in about three months.”

  “Married? Little Jamal?”Michelle stared at him in surprise.

  “Michelle, he couldn't stay fourteen forever. He's almost twenty-four now.”

  “Time flies.”Michelle shook her head with a smile.”Remember that time he punched you in the stomach when you tried to take him back to school? He was something else.”

  “Yeah, we had some rough times in the beginning.”

  “Then there was the time you brought him to the Friends and Family day picnic at our church and he called that other kid a-- well, let's just say he accused him of unnatural relations with his mother.”

  “Sister Stansberry grabbed him by the ears and shook him until his teeth rattled,” Anthony chuckled.

  “Yeah, then she made him clean up by himself and you had to bring him to her house for private bible lessons once a week for a month.”

  “That was as much punishment for me as him. Sister Stansberry had that little street tough kid jumping every time she called his name. All she had to do is say `Jamal!' in that alto voice of hers.”

  “You should have seen your face when Jamal asked why y'all couldn't go back to Sister Stansberry's house after the month was up,” Michelle teased.

  “He still visits her. Can you believe it?”

  “Sure. His maternal grandmother died when he
just five years old, and he never knew his father's family.”

  “Never knew his father.”Anthony corrected and started tapping the table again.

  “But between his mama, you, and good old Sister Stansberry, he had lots of love.”Michelle's voice softened. She also remembered why Anthony felt so strongly about reaching out to help other boys.

  “Knowing somebody cares whether you live or die certainly helps.”Anthony studied her face.”That's what Uncle Ike did for me, Michelle. I know he's not perfect, but when my father left us he was there for me.”

  “Listen,--”

  “I'm not asking you to feel the same as I do about him. And maybe he's done some wrong things. Just try to understand. I cared for you and him, but I never chose. I swear to you, I never chose him over you.”

  “Anthony, I don't know what to say.”Looking into his eyes, Michelle felt a flutter in her chest. In that instant, the over two hundred other people in the room disappeared.

  “Say we can at least be on speaking terms. I miss our friendship.” Anthony reached for her hand.

  Keisha appeared suddenly. “Here you are. Anthony, Representative Benson has been asking for you.”Her lips pursed at the sight of his hand covering Michelle's.”Saying hello to an old friend I see. Ms. Toussaint.”

  “Good seeing you again, too.”Michelle muttered. Michelle was irritated at her possessive attitude.

  “I'll be there in a minute,” Anthony broke in quickly.

  “You've already been gone almost twenty minutes. Now, come on.” Keisha's voice took on an aggravated, nagging tone.

  “There are quite a few people here I've known all my life, friends and acquaintances, Keisha.” Anthony's voice was strained.

  “Keisha, dear. How are you?”A short, plump woman with obviously dyed red hair and large ruby earrings said as she fluttered painted fingernails at her.

  “Dr. DeLousse, how are you?”Keisha smiled winningly before turning a stern face back to Anthony. “Anthony, are you coming?”

  “Keisha, I'd like you to meet someone.”Dr. DeLousse beckoned to her.

  Michelle feigned an expression of being impressed.”My, the Dean of Women at Xavier University is a friend of yours.”

  “She and my mother were roommates at Spellman.”Keisha lifted her chin just a bit.

  “Really? Isn't that something?”

  “Yes, well I attended Spellman also. Anthony, I'll see you shortly?” Keisha stared at him pointedly. When he nodded, she flounced off gushing a flowery greeting as she approached the others.

  “Guess it's time for you to go.”

  “Right.” Anthony frowned for a few seconds watching Keisha. Turning back to Michelle, he placed an arm around the back of her chair.”Listen, let's start over. Lunch maybe one day next week?”

  “Give me a call.” Michelle's mind was in a whirl with that simple invitation.

  Anthony gave her hand a pat before leaving. He was all grace as he wove his way through the tables to join Keisha. Michelle felt a warm stirring at the animal way his body moved. Her hand tingled where he had touched it. Well, surely one lunch was harmless. She was still absentmindedly rubbing her hand when Laree came back.

  “Uh-huh, y'all can't stay away from each other. Soon as I spotted him over on the other side of the dance floor eyeing you I knew he'd be over here.”Laree plopped down and took a swig of ice tea.

  “You wench. Why didn't you tell me?”

  “You kidding? I wasn't ready to leave. You probably would've jumped up hollering `Let's go'. No way, sugar. Not with all these beautiful BPMs.”

  “What?”

  “Black Professional Men. We got a bumper crop this year and it's harvest time, honey. ‘Course you've got the one prize every woman in town is after.”Laree nodded toward Anthony's table.

  “We haven't even been on speaking terms for years.”Michelle avoided her gaze.

  “I notice you seemed to be getting along very well

  just now.”

  “I suppose it's time to let go of old grudges. It was a long time ago. We're both mature enough to, you know, look at things differently.”Michelle gazed at Anthony, so dashing in his black tuxedo. He wore formal clothes as easily as a flannel shirt and jeans.

  “Are you saying Ike Batiste is not so bad?” Laree gaped at her.

  “Of course not. But I can't expect Anthony to turn on the man who practically adopted him and gave him the affection his father didn't.”

  “So, you're saying Anthony is not so bad and you two are gonna heat it up. Go, girl.” Laree gave her a playful nudge.

  “Forget it. I'm only saying we could be... on better terms.”Michelle still wouldn't look at her.

  “This is me you're talking to, sweetheart. With you and Anthony, being on better terms is just the first step to Love Land. Watch what I'm saying.”

  “He won't get that close to me, not ever again.” Michelle made it a point not to look in the direction of Anthony's table for the rest of the evening.

  ***

  Sitting up in bed at three-thirty the next morning, Michelle uttered a soft curse at the glowing blue numbers of the clock radio next to her bed. Hot chocolate, old movies, even a boring book, all her usual remedies for insomnia had failed. She had spent the better part of the night in a futile effort to block thoughts of him. It was as if the image of his strong jaw, those eyes, and that body was burned onto her eyelids. Each time she closed her eyes, there he was. To make matter worse, memories of being in his arms came flooding back. And she kept hearing his voice. Yes, she too had missed their friendship. But could she risk letting him back into her life? His admiration for Ike Batiste disturbed her.

  “Uncle Ike,” Michelle said out loud.

  Uncle Ike, who used people for his own gain. Who was ruthless in business and, according to gossip, with women. Even in high school, Anthony had emulated him. And when her father's business went sour, everything about Anthony seemed to reflect his Uncle Ike. If what Greg Matthews implied about his dealing with Charlotte Kinchen and the Housing Authority was indeed true, Uncle Ike had not changed one bit.

  Still, the happy memories of she and Anthony together crowded out the negatives. Michelle rubbed her already reddened eyes and sank beneath the comforter. The warmth of the quilts wrapped around her, reminding her of the way it felt to be wonderfully enclosed in Anthony's arms and affection. Sighing, she dozed off feeling a tiny prick of longing. A longing she thought had been successfully rooted out years ago.

  Chapter 3

  “This is a hot one, baby. Ike Batiste is going down.”Earl pushed a pile of books to the floor to sit in the chair at an empty desk next to Michelle and Gracie.

  “Hey, it took me all day to round up those for one of my stories. If any of my bookmarks have fallen out, you're in deep trouble, buster.”Gracie got up and began stacking them on the desk.

  “What's this about Ike Batiste?”Michelle continued tapping her keyboard.

  “His good buddy James Bridges was caught with his pants down, literally. His wife followed him to a fancy hotel last month. Listen to this, she pretended that she'd checked in with her husband but left her key inside. She got a maid to let her into the room.”Earl wore a crooked grin.”Mrs. B. went into the bedroom and all hell broke loose. She's filing for divorce. From what I hear, she plans to bleed old Jimmy boy dry.”

  “Juicy stuff, but what's it got to do with Ike Batiste?” Gracie dropped the last book, satisfied that everything was as she'd left it.

  “Mrs. Bridges wants to open up all his business dealings so that she can be sure he won't hide company assets or profits. Rumor has it that this will throw some very much unwanted light on his shady business practices.”Earl leaned over Michelle.”Including his relationship to Ike Batiste.”

  Michelle stopped writing.”Doesn't he sell insurance and construction bonds, too?”

  “Yep, does pretty well I hear.” Earl nodded.

  “That's real vague. I mean, people have been saying stuff like that about
Batiste and his buddies for years. But it never amounts to anything that can be proven or even something the district attorney can use to make a case.” Michelle shrugged and went back to her keyboard.

  “Maybe so, but if anybody knows where the bodies are buried it would be his wife. She's bitter and wants revenge,” Earl said.

  “He's right. She's a woman scorned,” Gracie agreed.

  Earl stood up.”Anyway, I'm going to interview her. She claims there are folks high up in the Mayor's office involved in some of the deals.”

  “Whoa, if you can pin that down you've got one helluva story. Those guys have been real cozy for the past four years.”Gracie chewed on a pencil.

  Michelle wore a look of pure skepticism.”Good luck. But don't forget, those guys have been sidestepping trouble for years without even getting close to a courtroom. Their double dealings are burrowed so deep, it would take major blasting to bring it to the surface. Hasn't been done yet.”

  “I'm counting on Mrs. Bridges having enough dynamite, babe. I'll keep you posted.”Earl waved goodbye.

  “You know, this could tie up somehow with your story.”Gracie pulled a book from the pile and began thumbing through it.

  “It's shaky. They could kiss and make-up tonight. Mrs. Bridges would say she was making it all up out of anger, and Earl's only lead would be a dead end. Still it will be very interesting to see where it goes.”

  Michelle and Gracie went back to the work Earl had interrupted without mentioning Bridges again. Still, Michelle decided to file away the fact that Mrs. Bridges might be a good source for her later on.

  ***

  It was a typical Monday for them. There were stories to follow-up from the weekend and new assignments handed out for the week. Hard as she tried to deny it, Michelle's attention was divided between work and anticipating a phone call from Anthony. Arriving at her apartment, she changed into her favorite oversized sweatshirt and old socks. Tuning on the radio, she started dinner. When the doorbell rang, her heart skipped.