Pretty Dangerous Page 8

  “Excuse me, but I didn’t come for dinner. We need to talk.” His deep voice rumbled like a threatening storm bouncing off the kitchen walls.

  Mama Ruby stood, ladle poised over the open pot. She glanced at Willa. “Oh?”

  Willa looked at Jazz. “Don’t tell me you’re tied up in another mess. Jazz, I swear…”

  “Not me this time.” Jazz looked at MiMi, one perfectly arched eyebrow raised.

  “I need to talk to MiMi privately.” Don wore a serious expression.

  “He tried to get you at home, MiMi. You need to answer your damn texts. Anthony told us y’all were over here.” Jazz crossed her arms.

  “Me?” MiMi blinked at him and then looked to Jazz for some clue. When she shrugged, MiMi started to really worry.

  “The kids might walk in, so maybe we should go somewhere else,” Don said.

  “I’ll take them to the family room with Elton. He won’t mind. Tell me what I missed when I get back,” Mama Ruby said to Willa. Seconds later she led the two girls down the hall.

  “The police department in Santo Domingo, a…” Don took out his phone to consult it.

  “Detective Aguilar,” MiMi said. Her chest felt as though a huge rubber band tightened around it.

  Don glanced up at her sharply. “No, Martinez.”

  “Never heard of him.” MiMi sat down at the kitchen table.

  “Her, Detective Ernesta Martinez. Her superior called our lieutenant, asked us to follow-up on one of their investigations. Seems Jazz left out a few details about her trip out of town,” Don said in a dry tone without looking at Jazz.

  Jazz leaned up against the tan marble at one end of the kitchen counter. “Like I told you, I visited a friend.”

  “Yeah, in prison. They have a murder and questions about money coming into the country to a bank called Banco something I can’t pronounce.” Don looked up from his phone at MiMi.

  “Look, I have every right to follow-up on my fiancé’s assets and…”

  “This Roderick Jefferson guy is your fiancé?” Don broke in.

  “Huh?” MiMi stared at him in confusion.

  “Their victim has a connection to Jefferson. This guy also was hooked up to a local gang that’s suspected of moving money in and through the country.”

  Jazz spoke up quickly before MiMi could reply. “You didn’t mention anything about moving money, Don.”

  Don frowned at Jazz. “Look, don’t play games. Tell me exactly why you ended up in the Dominican Republic with this guy. Seems the Feds are interested as well. My assistant chief wouldn’t waste time unless there’s more to it than a dead weed man.”

  Willa crossed her arms. “What Feds?”

  “The US Marshals, the FBI and that’s just a start. Jefferson has been a busy guy to generate this kind of attention.” Don sighed. “You sure have a knack for picking complicated boyfriends.”

  “Roderick is from a fine old family. My father and brother have done business with his family on more than one occasion.” MiMi lifted her chin as she defended him.

  “You better hope he didn’t involve them in his troubles,” Don said. “I won’t mention that to my boss just yet.”

  “Roddy made one small buy and he’s a one man drug cartel?” MiMi worked herself into anintense outrage.

  Willa’s brow wrinkled as she seemed to consider what Don had said. “There must be more to this whole deal, pardon the pun.”

  “The Feds keep a lot to themselves, to protect their investigation.” Don gave a short grunt to show what he thought of that explanation. “But Willa’s on target, MiMi. I maybe need to talk to your dad.”

  MiMi’s eyes widen in horror. “No, no, no. Daddy will absolutely have heart failure, not to mention blame me.”

  “You? He should be pissed at Roderick Jefferson,” Willa said.

  “Or himself for getting into business with him,” Jazz added.

  “Reputation is everything to Daddy. He’ll say I got Roddy into trouble because of my unsavory associations.” MiMi rubbed her forehead.

  Jazz nudged Willa. “She means us, sis. Guess we can stop waiting for an invitation to Sunday dinner at the Landry house.”

  “The Black elite never blame their own, Don. They’re so special.” Willa gave a scornful laugh.

  “Just stop it,” MiMi snapped. “You’re stereotyping them because they grew up different than you.”

  “I married into that world. Jack Crown, remember? I know what I’m talking about,” Willa replied.

  “His parents might have been difficult when it came to you,” MiMi said.

  “Try condescending on a good day, flat out insulting on a bad one,” Willa lobbed back.

  “Excuse me, let’s get back to why Don came over here,” Jazz said loudly.

  Mama Ruby scurried in. “Okay, fill me in.”

  “There was a murder in the Dominican Republic, and the police over there think Roderick and MiMi are involved. Something about money laundering, too.” Jazz rattled out the succinct summary with the wave of a hand.

  “Money laundering, again?” Mama Ruby gaped at MiMi. “Child, no.”

  “I never…” MiMi sucked in air and then let it out noisily. “Look, all I did was go on vacation with my boyfriend and…”

  “I thought he was your fiancé. That’s what you said at first,” Don broke in. His dark eyes focused on MiMi like the scope of a high powered rifle.

  “Slip of the tongue. I’m hoping he puts a ring on it,” MiMi said with a laugh.

  “She’s always trolling for a BMWM; you know, a Black Man With Money,” Jazz added. She shared a high five with MiMi.

  “You said something about his assets.”

  “Roderick said something about business opportunities in the DR or with some people there. I wasn’t paying attention to be honest. Oh, he did visit a commercial plaza for sale. It included a few shops, and I have retail expertise.”

  “You sure that’s the only business he was up to over there?” Don made notes on a small pad.

  “I was with him just about every minute we were there, Don.” MiMi matched his crossed arms pose.

  “Except when he slipped off to buy drugs,” Don said.

  “You know what? I think the Feds are doing some racial profiling. White kids from those Ivy League schools go on spring break, tear up everything and do drugs. The FBI doesn’t show up accusing them of drug smuggling and money laundering. I can’t believe you bought into their bull.” MiMi jabbed a finger in the air between them.

  “Don is doing his job,” Jazz put in. “But she does have a point about the profiling.”

  Don raised a dark eyebrow. “Pick a team and stay on it, Jazz.”

  “I’m not talking about you,” Jazz said promptly. “On the other hand, look at the facts. A lot of people get locked up for stuff they didn’t do.”

  “We follow the evidence. Speaking of profiling, the all ‘cops are rotten apples’ theme is getting very old.” Don’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Jazz.

  “I didn’t say…”

  “No, she didn’t, now let’s not start attacking each other. Don is right. There’s more going on than Roderick bought a little weed. Too many people are interested,” Willa added fast when MiMi opened her mouth.

  “Hmmm. He did lie, girl. You gotta wonder what else he hasn’t told you.” Jazz frowned and rubbed her chin as if in deep thought.

  “I’ve known the Jeffersons since I was twelve. They’re a fine family.” MiMi sniffed.

  “You sounded a lot like your mother just then,” Willa murmured. When MiMi scowled at her, she held up both palms.

  “I would say the same thing if someone accused you or Mama Ruby of being an international criminal,” MiMi replied, putting ice in her tone.

  “What about me?” Jazz’s full lips lifted at one corner.

  “No comment.” MiMi ducked when Jazz took a playful swing at her.

  “All I’m saying is…” Don raised his voice to get their attention back to the subject. �
�You might not want to book a wedding planner with this guy. He’s got baggage.”

  “There’s a little concept called innocent until proven guilty. As an officer of the law I’m sure you’ve heard of it.” MiMi planted both fists on her hips.

  “Everybody is guilty of something. We slap the cuffs on and make ‘em take the walk of shame to booking.” Don gave a cynical chuckle.

  “Oh, now that’s such an enlightened view of people.” MiMi shook her head slowly.

  “He’s kidding,” Jazz said. But she looked unsure as she glanced at Don.

  “Okay, okay. Mr. Roderick Jefferson deserves his day in court. I suggest you have a chat with him about the FBI. Talk to your daddy while you’re at it.” Don looked around at them all. “Anything else you want to tell me?”

  “No,” MiMi, Jazz and Willa said at the same time.

  Don gave them a pointed stare. “Uh-huh. Y’all do know I’m going to find out sooner and not later, right?”

  “We don’t know what you’re talking about.” MiMi hoped her tone had the right mixture of honesty and injured pride.

  Don’s cell phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen for a few seconds before he disappeared into the laundry room to make a call.

  “Y’all need to practice not sounding guilty as sin.” Mama Ruby shook her head as she went to the stove to check on the simmering gumbo.

  “What do you really know about this dude, MiMi,” Jazz hissed. She glanced in the direction Don had gone.

  “I think the FBI is really trying to track down Jack’s money and using what happened with Roderick as a cover,” MiMi whispered. “They might have had us all under surveillance for the last year or longer.”

  “Oh come on,” Willa blurted out.

  “Not ‘us’, you two. I wasn’t one of Jack’s many women,” Jazz put in.

  “Two words, Felipe Perez,” MiMi tossed back at her.

  “Look, don’t start with the wild theories. Sometimes it is what it is. I say we start by doing some research on Roderick and his family’s business deals,” Willa said softly.

  “I’m telling you there is nothing to find. But if you want to waste resources when you should be running your own company, go ahead.” MiMi huffed in frustration.

  “Maybe you don’t want to know about your father’s business,” Willa said carefully. She glanced at Mama Ruby.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” MiMi was about to go on but Don returned.

  “I have to go. I’ll talk to y’all later. Stay out of trouble.” Don kissed Jazz on her forehead.

  “Ha! These three stay out of trouble?” Mama Ruby laughed hard as she stirred.

  “What’s taking so long with the food?” Papa Elton boomed as he entered the kitchen. He grinned at Don. “Hey, Detective Addison.”

  Don shook hands with him. “Afternoon, Mr. Wilson. Sorry I can’t stay. I’m on the clock.”

  “Keepin’ the streets of Baton Rouge safe. Good man.” Papa Elton nodded. Then his smile faded as he looked at Willa. “Wait a minute. I hope you’re not here because these three have gotten into something else.”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Mama Ruby said quietly. She glanced at MiMi and then back to her husband.

  “Bye everybody.” Don gave a general wave and walked out.

  Jazz followed him and came back a few seconds later. “Willa, get to digging on Roderick.”

  “MiMi’s new rich boyfriend?” Papa Elton blinked at his wife, who nodded slowly. “I don’t even want to know.” He accepted a tray with his food and trudged back to the normalcy of television sports.

  “Don is wrong. The FBI is wrong, and what y’all are thinking is wrong.” MiMi shook a finger at everyone and the world.

  “Fine. Then you don’t care if I do some research. We’ll face up to the results, no matter where the facts take us. Agreed?” Willa gazed at MiMi.

  “Sure.” Jazz looked at MiMi.

  MiMi looked back at them. Anxiety took up residence in her chest. “Sure.”

  Chapter 7

  The next week went quickly. Between taking care of Sage and work, MiMi had little time to worry about investigations. As the days passed, MiMi relaxed back into her routine. Willa had probably been right about one thing, she’d let her imagination go crazy. Still MiMi rehearsed bringing up the subject of his business deals to her father. She even wrote out a script of exactly how she’d lead into her questions. Staring into the mirror, MiMi practiced making her facial expression remain normal. Drexel James Landry, Jr. could sniff out a lie or half-truth like a psychic.

  Yet every time she picked up the phone to call, MiMi thought of at least a half dozen other things to do. She could have stopped by her parents’ home. Instead, her hands resisted turning the steering wheel in the direction of Oak Grove Estates, the neighborhood where they lived. So she gave up, convinced the timing was obviously not right.

  The following Saturday after Don questioned her at Mama Ruby’s house, MiMi got ready for a date with Roderick. Adrienne had jumped at the chance to babysit Sage. MiMi dropped the energetic toddler off at lunchtime. Her sister had assured her that getting Sage that early was no problem at all. With her day free, MiMi had time to get a manicure, pedicure and buy a new blouse to go over her skinny jeans. By six o’clock she was home and ready. They were going to the new cinema with six screens called Dinner and A Movie. Roderick reserved one of their tables where they could order a meal and watch a movie.

  MiMi winked at her reflection in the full length mirror in her master bedroom. “Girl, you still got it. I’ll have a one carat engagement ring by Christmas. No, two carats, because he owes me and can afford it.”

  When the doorbell rang she glanced in surprise at the digital clock on her nightstand. She winked again before going down the stairs humming an old school hip-hop tune from the nineties. On her way to the front door, the phone rang. She grabbed the cordless phone from a table in the foyer.

  “Hello Mother. Yes, I’m going out with Roderick. I don’t exactly need you to monitor my love life.” MiMi frowned at the handset. Still talking, she pulled open the front door without looking outside. “I have to go because he’s here.”

  A man the color of dark chocolate stared at her. He looked away to scan the surroundings. He was tall, lean and bald. A blonde woman only slightly shorter stood beside him. Both were dressed in what almost looked like duplicate charcoal gray suits.

  “Ms. Landry? We’re with the FBI and we’d like to talk to you,” the woman said without smiling. “I’m Agent Morrison and this is Agent Young.”

  “What do you want with me? Not you, Mother. No, you can’t talk to Roderick because… I’ll call tomorrow or sometime.” MiMi hit the “end” button cutting off her mother’s insistent voice. She felt lightheaded as the two agents held up identification tags. She gazed at them through the clear glass storm door.

  “May we come in?” Agent Morrison’s expression made it into a command.

  MiMi flinched when Agent Young turned his dark gaze back to her. She unlocked the door and stood back. “Yes, of course.”

  Both agents seemed to slide in silently as though they were used to moving without a sound. Agent Young turned his laser focus on MiMi’s foyer. Agent Morrison gave MiMi a slight nod which indicated they expected to be invited farther inside.

  “Hmm, let’s go into the living room, and you can tell me what this is about.” MiMi closed the door and started to put down the phone, but decided to keep it. She might need to call a lawyer. “It’s not every day the FBI shows up on my doorstep. In fact, I’m not used to having any kind of law enforcement visit me. I can’t imagine why you’d be here.”

  The two agents followed her without speaking. Once in the living room, they stood studying her with twin impassive expressions as she talked nervously. They seemed patient, as though used to their presence unnerving people to the point of useless rambling. Finally when MiMi willed herself to shut up, Agent Morrison nodded again and took out a small note pad.


  “You were involved in a romantic relationship with Jackson Phillip Crown, is that accurate?” Agent Morrison consulted her notes as if to make sure she had the name correct.

  MiMi took time to regain composure as she looked back at the female agent. She faltered a bit when Agent Young’s barely there left eyebrow shot up. She briefly wondered if he’d shaved those off at the same time he shaved his head. The man made her think of all the scary movies she’d seen about cold, ruthless government agents. Then she reminded herself they were in her home, and she still had constitutional rights.

  “We were engaged, and he was practically divorced from his wife. I’m sure you have all the facts,” MiMi replied crisply.

  “Yes,” Agent Morrison said with a chilly smile of judgment. “We’re conducting a joint investigation with the U.S. Marshals and the Secret Service into possible money laundering.”

  “Secret Service,” MiMi replied. Her legs felt numb as she sank onto a nearby chair. The agents sat down on the matching sofa at the same time.

  “Yes, not uncommon that we pool investigative resources in cases such as this,” Agent Morrison explained blandly.

  “Cases like this?” MiMi blinked at them.

  “You’re familiar with Felipe Perez, a business associate of Mr. Crown’s before he died.” Agent Young spoke for the first time in a bass voice.

  MiMi flinched again. He didn’t ask a question because he already knew the answer. Still she felt growing anger at his attempt to intimidate her. She bristled at the good agent, scary agent routine.

  “Look, you already must know that I have never been ‘familiar’ with Felipe Perez. Of course I know who he is. The facts about him and his gang came out during the investigation into Jack’s murder. The police also proved that Jack had no direct connection to that gang.”

  “We’ve read the reports. There are indications that Mr. Crown and his brother knew who and what Felipe Perez was,” Agent Young replied, his tone heavy with indictment.