Read Between Friends Online

Authors: D. L. Sparks

Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #General, #African American Police, #Urban Life, #Thrillers, #African American

Between Friends (5 page)

BOOK: Between Friends
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Chapter Five
Trip
My phone rang, but I silenced it without even looking at the display. We were standing in the middle of what could only be described as a massacre. The young lady's throat had been cut so deep that her head was almost severed.
I looked around the upscale home in Cobb County and couldn't help but shake my head. I wondered if these refined neighbors knew that they were living in the midst of a well-thought-out, well-orchestrated drug ring, right in their own backyards.
Just when I didn't think that things could get any worse, I noticed Lincoln Briscoe walking out of the kitchen. He was on his cell phone, which gave me a chance to go the other way.
I found Phil standing over the body, which was now covered with a white sheet. My partner was talking to one of the APD officers. There were a few agents there taking notes and gathering evidence.
“They found the knife. It's already been bagged,” the officer said.
“Cool. She got a name?”
The officer answered, “Monique Lewis. Stabbed fifteen times, throat slashed. Apparently, she was running more than drugs out of this nice house.”
Again I couldn't help but think about my sister.
Phil looked at me. “You a'ight?”
“Yeah, I'm good.”
“Of course, he's good. You don't know? That's Supercop,” Linc taunted. “Special Agent Orlando Spencer.”
Phil looked over at him like he was crazy then looked back to me.
Linc walked up with a sly grin on his face that I wanted to slap off.
The sound of his voice made me wanna punch a hole in the wall. But instead, I turned around and growled, “Listen here, I'm an
agent,
not a cop. Matter of fact, why are you even here? Don't you have a speeding-ticket quota to meet?”
“I see they called in the Top Cop, all the way from New Orleans.”
I laughed. “As long as you notice.”
It was no secret that Lincoln and I didn't get along, but we had managed to find a way to coexist back in college for Idalis' sake. We'd both known, since the day we met in Idalis's dorm room, we were oil and water. We didn't mix. And I was sure he hated me being back in Atlanta, almost as much as I hated being there. I knew me being DEA and digging up dirt in APD's backyard, his stomping ground, was pissing him off even more, but I didn't give a fuck.
“Well, I for one am glad to have you back in town,” he said, sarcasm hanging on every word. “Does Idalis know you're here?”
With the mention of her name, my body got tense. “Why don't you ask her?” I shot back.
“I'll do that, Trip, when I get home. Right before bed.”
Our eyes locked in a hate-filled stare until someone called him name getting his attention.
“They need you in the back, Lieutenant Briscoe.” An APD officer came up and said.
“Duty calls. It was good seein' you,” he taunted, as he walked away.
“Yeah, give Idalis my best when you see her,” I said, cracking a smile. “If you can.”
I was about to head for the door when I got a call from Clayton County.
“Spencer,” I answered.
“Hey, this is Morgan. We're following a lead on the stabbing out here in College Park. Some girl named Santee Mitchell.”
“A'ight, keep me posted.”
I went and found Phil in the kitchen. “They got a lead. Some chick in College Park.”
“Cool, they don't need us then. Let's be out then.”
We were about to head out, when an officer came in and stopped us. “Hold up. We found a girl hiding in a closet downstairs.”
We watched as a female officer led a thin, terrified girl into the crowded room. Her wide-eyed expression let me know that she'd seen way more than she ever wanted to see in her lifetime. Someone had covered her scantily clad body with an over-sized blanket. The room was silent as she sank down on the couch. I walked over to her and crouched down and got eye level with her.
“Hi, I'm Agent Spencer. I'm with the DEA. What's your name?”
She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out at first. So she tried again. “Mya Delowe.”
I looked back at the officers in the room. “Did you see what happened here tonight?”
This time she didn't even try to speak she just nodded.
“We're gonna need you to give a statement, can you do that?”
Tears welled in her eyes as she nodded again.
I tapped her lightly on her leg and thanked her before standing up and making my way back to the door.
Just then Lincoln stepped in the room.
“There you go,
Lieutenant
Briscoe, handle that.” I cracked a sinister smile.
Hatred flashed in his eyes, letting me know that if there hadn't been a house full of law enforcement, things would be going a lot differently now.
I gave him a wink before heading out the door behind Phil.
We got into the truck, and Phil pulled a Hostess cake out of nowhere and opened it up.
“Don't get crumbs everywhere,” I said.
He held out the chocolate cake. “Want one?”
I just shook my head and cranked up the truck.
 
Once we were back downtown, we sat in the conference room and scoured stacks of paperwork for hours, trying to piece them together like a puzzle. Trying to find a pattern, a slipup, anything that would give us a clue on what the connection was between all of this and how it tied in with the jail.
“There's a lot of money and drugs being moved in and out of there for nobody not to know anything,” Phil mumbled while studying files. “There has to be something we're missing.”
“Not to mention this phantom dealer who's taking over territory under the radar. Atlanta got more problems than they realize.”
“Shit, I know,” Phil agreed.
I stood up and tried to walk off the tension in my back. I stretched a little and peered out the window. “We've been over this stuff a million times. Ever since the trail pointed in this direction, we've been on top of everything. We may never plug this hole.”
“Maybe you not as good as they thought, pot'na.”
I turned around and saw Lincoln walking in the room, followed by two city cops. A few seconds later, Lenny appeared in the door.
“What are you doing here?”
Lincoln sat down at the end of the table farthest from me. “Now, I know you didn't think we were gon' let you ride in town on your white horse without letting us play, did you?”
I looked at Lenny. “What is he doing here?”
“Lieutenant Briscoe is supervising the UC's over in Zone One and has a good bit of information on some dealers and their runners. It couldn't hurt to let him know what you've collected so far.”
Phil stood up. “Why don't you have Lieutenant
Bankhead
here just give us his list of names and let us do what we came here to do?”
Linc mean-mugged Phil. Part of me wanted him to at least try to go after him to justify the ass kicking I've wanted to give him for years.
“Once this case crossed state lines, technically, it became our jurisdiction, Lenny,” I countered. “We don't have to share lunch with this cop.”
I heard Lincoln let out a disgusted sound. “Hey, we can do this the easy way or we can do this my way, don't matter to me, ya dig.”
Lenny let out a sigh. “Look, don't turn this into a cockfight. This case is starting to take on a life of its own, and you two know it. So, Spencer and Porter knock off the Crockett-and-Tubbs act and close this case so I can get the hell out of Georgia.”
With that, Lenny turned and walked out of the room.
“So, fellas, what you got so far?” Lincoln asked, leaning back in his chair.
“You can read, right, Briscoe?” I started.
Phil tossed the folder he was holding in his direction, causing the contents to fly out and scatter across the tabletop. The two city cops that were with Linc started picking up the scattered papers.
“Figure it out,” Phil finished.
Phil walked out and I started to follow, when Lincoln stopped me.
He let out a slight laugh. “Yo, I ain't goin' nowhere, dog. You might as well get used to seein' me. Fed may trump city, but this is still my backyard, pot'na.”
Fire rose in my chest and lapped around my neck and ears. I saw out of the corner of my eye that Phil had reappeared in the doorway to the conference room.
“Yo, Trip, he ain't worth it, man. Let's go.”
I looked from Phil back to Lincoln. He had a smug look on his face that made it damn hard not to fire off a round in his chest. I turned and headed out the door and I heard him call out to me.
“I'm lookin' forward to workin' with you, Special Agent Spencer.”
“Fuck you, Lieutenant Briscoe,” I shot back.
Chapter Six
Idalis
Club 404 was packed to capacity. I knew we had to be violating some sort of fire code tonight. The DJ had the whole club jumping. His mix had everyone cramming onto what little bit of dance floor there was left. Customers were screaming their orders out to the waitresses over the loud music and bartenders were happily filling orders and collecting tips. After their confusing, shouting exchanges, the servers could barely maneuver through the crowds, back to the bar with their orders.
Before I had Cameron, I worked as a manager and an event planner for the Four Seasons, which kept me pretty busy. But once I got pregnant, Lincoln felt I shouldn't be working. He encouraged me to slow down—more like
insisted
on me slowing down. I didn't start working again until Cameron was almost two, when Linc surprised me by buying this spot. He was co-owner, but he always said that it was just on paper, that this was my project to do whatever I wanted to do with. And I had a lot of ideas for this spot. It took a little over a year but the word got out quick and Club 404 was on the map and I was making my own hours and home with my son whenever I wanted to be, making both Linc and me happy.
The black T-shirt and skinny jeans from
bebe
I had on were a good choice. I was comfortable but had dressed up my outfit with some accessories for the pictures that people always wanted to take with me since I was the owner.
My hair was pulled back in the front and hung straight down my back. I hated having hair in my face when I was sweaty and with all the running around I was doing tonight, I was definitely working up a sweat.
If I wasn't running around and pulling money from the bartenders' drawers, then taking it back to the office, I was taking pictures or networking with radio stations or local magazines trying to get ad space and more exposure. Tonight my good friend Si-Man Baby hosting on the mic and he was working the crowd. He came over and gave me a quick squeeze.
“You looking good in them jeans girl.”
I smiled. “Thank you. I appreciate you coming out tonight.”
“Anything for you, you know that.”
A few patrons walked up, asked if they could snap a few pictures. Si-Man and I obliged and then he disappeared into the sea of people and started hyping the crowd.
“When I say Si-Man you say Baby!” he called in the mic, voice booming through the club. “Si-Man!”
“Baaaaaby!” the crowd responded.
I made my way to Dionne's station, and instinctively she placed a bottle of water in front of me. We'd been tag teaming at this for almost two years, it was like we read each others minds. I popped the top on the water and let its coolness hit the back of my throat and cool my insides.
I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and checked my messages. India texted me and let me know that she'd picked Cameron up from my mom's and was on her way to my house. She also let me know that she didn't appreciate me leaving her at Applebee's. I responded and thanked her for picking him up and told her I wasn't thinking about her or her trip to California.
Just when I was about to head to the back office, I felt an arm snake its way around my waist and a pair of lips brushed my neck.
I inhaled his scent and smiled.
God he smells good
, I thought.
“I wondered if you were coming,” I said over the loud music.
Linc turned me around and I looked up into his brown eyes before planting a kiss on his lips.
“I told you I was, didn't I?”
“Yeah, but it was getting late. I didn't think you were gonna make it.”
I cut my eyes for a second and I saw Dionne placing drinks on a tray in front of me. She hollered across the bar and asked me if I could run them to a table because apparently Marissa put the order in and had forgotten about them. I nodded before I turned my attention back to Lincoln.
He tilted his head and smiled. “So you got me punchin' a clock?”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and squeezed. “I didn't mean it like that. How was your day?”
He leaned back onto one of the empty stools. “Man, it's been a crazy day. Did you hear about them findin' that chick with her throat cut?”
I picked up the tray off the counter. “Yeah, we were talking about it earlier. Does it have anything to do with your case?”
Before he could answer, his phone lit up on his hip. His hand instinctively went to grab it. He nodded toward the crowd. “Go 'head and handle yo business. Let me get this. We'll talk when you get back.”
I grabbed the tray off the counter and waded my way through the dense crowd of drunks and half-naked women gyrating to yet another song with a long list of promises of satisfaction in bed.
As I set the drinks in front of the customers, I looked up at the bar where Linc was standing covering one ear with his free hand and using the other to hold his phone. He was having what appeared to be an intense conversation. I watched his lips moving as he pressed his phone against his ear. His goatee was perfectly manicured against his chocolate skin. He had just got a fresh cut, his line-up was sharp, and he looked damn good. The lights from the bar bounced off his Breil Milano watch, drawing attention to the tattoo on his forearm. That watch was my Christmas gift to him last year.
A voice snapped me out of my peep session. I looked at the table of people, reacting as if they had just appeared out of nowhere.
“Huh? I'm sorry. What did you say?”
The female sitting directly across from me had attitude written all over her overdone face. Her fake lashes were so long and thick; honestly, I was surprised she could even see the drink to pick it up. She slid her martini glass back across the round table toward me.
“I
said,
I asked for a Cotton Candy martini. That's not what this is,” she snapped.
I cocked my head and leaned in a little closer, because now
I
had an attitude. “Excuse me?”
“There ain't hardly any liquor in this. I ain't paying seven dollars for a glass of flavored water.”
The guys she was with laughed, but the other lone female tried to get her to chill out. “It ain't that serious, Princess, dang. Why you always gotta try to get loud?”
Princess? Seriously?
This weaved-up bitch's name was Princess. It took all I had in me to maintain my owner persona, because I really wanted to cuss her out and toss the drink I was holding in her face.
“You want something else?” I asked.
“No, I want the drink I asked for,” she snapped, rolling her big fish eyes.
I stopped and glared at her for a second. “I'll send a waitress over with a new drink.” I took the glass and headed back toward the bar.
I slammed the glass down on the counter. “Dionne, I need another Cotton Candy martini, heavy on the liquor, please, and this time make sure Marissa does her damn job and takes it over there.”
Dionne took the glass and dumped its contents and started mixing another one. “What they say?” she asked.
I just shook my head. “Don't ask.” I looked around. “Have you seen Lincoln? He was just standing here.”
She nodded toward the back. “He headed back toward your office a few minutes ago.”
Dionne's milk chocolate skin was glowing with perspiration under the lighting of the bar. Her short naturally curly haircut fit her face perfectly. He sweat caused some of the short wispy curls to hug her hairline. She was short and put together, but she wasn't one to be messed with either. I learned that from running around with her in college. We were always up in somebody's dorm, cussing out a chick for one reason or another. Usually, it was over a rumor that had made its way back to her. Dionne was into women, had been since high school, so it was never over a man; but the relationships she was in and out of with women seemed to cause just as many problems as a heterosexual relationship.
I turned to make my way to the back when I was stopped in my tracks by a slurred, gravelly voice.
“Hey, Miss Idalis! What I gotta do to get a dance?”
I smiled at Mr. Lewis as I walked by. I scanned his appearance. His salt-and-pepper hair, scruffy beard, and crooked smile were endearing. His wife passed, over a year ago, from cancer, I think, and that's when he started coming here. I think it was more for company than for anything else. He was a sweet man in his mid to late sixties, and he was always trying to convince me to dance with him.
I winked at him. “I told you, I can't dance with you until you're ready to marry me and take me away.”
He smiled a big grin, revealing missing teeth. “Okay, now, I'll get the ring. You just better be ready.”
“I promise I will be.”
“Here you go.” He handed me a twenty-dollar bill.
We'd had this ritual for months now. I had accepted the fact that my short, flirtatious conversation was the equivalent of a lap dance for him.
He didn't get a lot of attention from the waitresses, mainly because he was older and didn't have the best hygiene. The first few times I turned down his money, but then he confided that it offended him and that I should take it as a compliment—so began our weekly exchange.
“Thank you, Mr. Lewis,” I said, shoving the bill in the back pocket of my jeans.
Our little conversation didn't stop my momentum. I wanted to know what had drawn and, more importantly, what was keeping Lincoln in the back for so long.
Before I pushed the door to my small office open, I stopped and tried to hear over the music what was being said. I couldn't make out much, but I heard Lincoln's voice and he was angry. I could only make out him asking if someone was “sure” about something.
When I finally pushed the door open, Lincoln was leaning against my messy desk in the middle of the room. There were papers all over my desk, because it was coming up on the end of the month, and it was almost time to balance the books. There were packages of supplies, which I hadn't opened yet, stacked up throughout the dusty office.
That's when it hit me.
Nate was the dude I'd seen at the gym.
Nate shot me a grin that made my skin crawl. “Hey, girl. What's up?”
“Hey, Nate,” I answered back.
Linc looked up from his phone. He was agitated. “What you need, Idalis?”
“I was just wondering where you disappeared to—”
He cut me off. “I'll be out in a second.”
I stood there for a moment, not sure of what was going on.
He looked up at me. “Idalis, gimme a few minutes to wrap this up.”
I stared at him for a second, prepared to check his ass for snapping on me in my own office, and that's when I saw it.
Saw the anger swirling around in the same brown eyes that were so happy to see me just moments ago.
I turned around and headed back to the front of the club.
By the time I made it back to the bar, I didn't know what to think.
“You good?” Through my clouded thinking I heard Dionne speak. I looked at her. Tried to focus. I saw her lips moving, but I couldn't hear what was coming out.
I shook my head like I was trying to clear it. “What?” I asked.
“I asked if you were good?”
I looked down at my watch. It was almost one. I looked back toward where I'd just come from.
“Lincoln's in the back with Nate.” I gave her a look that must've translated the confusion I was feeling. “I don't know what the hell his problem is.”
She twisted her face. “What is he doing here? Ain't he supposed to be out chasing criminals or something?”
“He's been acting funny ever since Trip got back.”
Her eyes got big. “Trip Spencer?” She leaned back and laughed. “I
know
he ain't happy about that shit.”
I shook my head. “No, he's not.”
I looked around and watched the pulse of the crowd, getting lost for a moment in everyone dancing and partying like they didn't have a care in the world.
“Well, don't let it get to you,” she reassured me. “Once this is over, and Trip is gone, he'll be back to normal.”
“Yeah, let's just hope that's soon.”
Just then, I felt Linc come up behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, squeezed me close, and pressed his lips against my ear. The sense of relief, which started to wash over my body, was stifled when he whispered in my ear.
“You need to meet me back at the house, now.”
My mouth fell open with disbelief. My stomach did a flip.
Before I could ask what was going on, he disappeared into the crowd. Dionne gave me a look filled with questions, which I had no answers for.
BOOK: Between Friends
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