Beautiful Liar (16 page)

“’Cause, I know you. I was reading your book
and saw how you bled your heart out. You really loved him,
huh?”

“I do. Writing that book…I’ll always have him
in my heart.” Her voice began to crackle. “Writing that book helped
me cope and move on.”

“I didn’t mean to get you upset,” he
apologized, hearing the sorrow in her voice.

“I’m okay. Plus, I have a friend now.”

“Yeah? A dude?”

“Hmm…hm.”

“I hope that he’s not a knucklehead.”

“No. He’s not in the streets. You probably
know him.”

“What’s his name?”

“Cairo Jenkins.”

“The one in all those concrete
commercials?”

“Uh huh.”

Carlos laughed. “Yeah, I know who you’re
talking about. He’s definitely not a knucklehead.”

“He’s cool. You’ll like him.”

“As long as he’s treating you right, I’m
happy for you.”

“He is.”

They talked the whole fifteen minutes that
was allowed, before ending their call with encouraging words. Which
seemed to be on perfect timing, because Misty was notified her food
was ready.

She tipped the woman at the register and
exited the restaurant just as her phone started ringing again.
“Hello?”

“There’s a saying that mental pain is far
worse than physical pain,” a woman said. “But personally—”

“Who is this?”

“But personally, I prefer physical pain. It’s
much more gratifying.”

“Who the hell—” she paused when she heard a
gunning engine behind her. Misty dove backwards, out of pure
instinct, just as a car sped past where she had just been
standing!

Terry pulled up at the concrete building,
staring intently at what was left of the glass door. He entered the
building expecting the worst, but the only thing that was out of
place was a large rock on the floor and three cops standing around
it.

The officer who was dusting it for
fingerprints stopped when Terry stepped through the door. “You
can’t come in here right now, sir. They’re not open yet.”

“I’m Terry Jenkins, the founder of this
place.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t…”

“It’s okay. Where’s my son?”

“He’s in his office with Sgt. Kemlin,
reviewing the security tape.”

Terry walked in the office to find Cairo,
Sgt. Kemlin, and Ray totally immersed in the security footage of
the two masked intruders.

“Pause it right there!” the sergeant
demanded.

Cairo complied.

“Look at the chest area of this suspect.”

“Oh, shit! Those are breasts!”

“That’s right. Now, start it back and see if
you recognize her walk or shape.”

Cairo’s eyes shone with recognition, and the
sergeant noticed. “You know who that is, don’t you?”

“I…I want to say yea, but I’m not for
sure.”

“Come on, kid. Just say who you think it
is.”

“I don’t want to guess at it,” he said
hesitantly. “I might get the wrong person harassed.”

“We’re not into harassing people. We only
investigate incidents professionally.”

Cairo remained silent, causing the sergeant
to get beet red in the face. “Spit it out, kid!”

“Uh, nah. I’m not going to worry about it.
All they got was an empty safe.”

“Why did you call in the first place, if you
didn’t want the perpetrators caught?"

“’Cause I wanted to get a police report for
my insurance company so they could replace the glass door.”

The sergeant opened his mouth to protest
Cairo’s way of thinking, but he changed his mind and went in
another direction. “I’ll get Officer Troy to write up the report
for you. Have a nice day.” He nodded as Terry brushed past him.

“Do you mind telling me what’s going on?”
Terry asked.

Cairo cut an eye at Ray. “I know who it was,
but I don’t want to send her to prison.”

“Is it the same girl?”

He nodded bashfully.

“Son, this shit has to stop! It’s bad enough
your car insurance has doubled in the past six months from her
vandalizing your cars.”

“I know.”

“Just think if I wouldn’t have gotten you to
deposit that money last night.”

“We would’ve been out of two-hundred
grand.”

“That’s right! I ‘m not telling you to turn
that girl in, but you better do your best and try to reconcile with
her. I foresee a tragedy, and God knows we don’t need another one.
It took me the longest to get over Tracey and Junior.”

Cairo became agitated at the mention of his
deceased son. He couldn’t manage to let go of his guilt no matter
what he did or how much he tried.

Terry sensed this and placed a hand on his
shoulder. “You need to stop blaming yourself. I told you, God took
that baby because He was ready for him.”

Cairo turned towards the window, where the
repairman was taking out a sheet of glass from his truck. He really
wasn’t trying to discuss his son. It felt like pulling a scab off
of a healing wound and rubbing salt on it.

Terry continued. “If you think about it, you
better be glad that it happened the way it did.”

“Why in the world should I be glad?” he
asked, scolding.

“How hard would it have been if God would
have taken Junior at the age of five? After you were fully attached
to him?”

“Oh! Hard…harder.”

“See—”

“Excuse me, sir,” Officer Troy said, poking
his head through the door. “Here’s the report.”

Cairo accepted his copy. “Thanks.”

Once the officer was gone, Terry turned back
to his son. “Stop blaming yourself. If not for yourself, then do it
for me. Okay?”

“I’ll try.”

“I guess that’s a start. Don’t forget to call
that girl.”

“Okay.”

“And have somebody come to fix the door.”

“They just pulled up.”

“Good. Ray, come help me get that big-ass
rock out of here.”

Ray hopped out of his seat immediately, and
Cairo took the opportunity to make a call. He had difficulty
remembering Vicky’s number.

“Hello?”

“Vicky, this is Cairo.”

“Why the fuck are you calling me for? We
don’t have shit to talk about.”

“I want to resolve our problem before you do
something you’ll regret.”

“I’m not going to regret shit I do!”

“You would’ve if I told the police it was
you.”

“Then you would’ve really proved to me that
you’re the bitch you are. Keep it in streets, nigga! You little
girl! You whore!”

He sighed. “All that I want to do is resolve
our problem so this madness can stop.”

“We’ll resolve it when you figure out a way
to bring my niece and nephew back! Until then, it’s on and poppin’,
bitch!”

Click!

Denise Boler had never
been a
religious person. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in God; she
felt as long as a person loved Him and treated people how you
wanted to be treated, there wasn’t any particular way to serve
Him.

She viewed religion as a big wedge that
divided people and kept them from uniting. Christians prayed
through Jesus, Catholics prayed through Mary, and Muslims prayed to
Elijah Muhammad. And while each of these groups were humble and
God-fearing people, they all viewed each other as sinners and
highly potential candidates to burn in hell.

Denise was no stranger to being divided from
people, especially from the ones she loved. The father of her three
boys had been murdered on the same day their youngest son was born.
It had nearly destroyed her, but she held it together for the sake
of their sons. They were all she lived for, so she made it her sole
priority to raise them properly.

So when her son’s uncle got deep into the
drug game, Denise had contemplated many nights how to keep her sons
away from him. She didn’t want them to be heavily influenced. But
she eventually decided against that; because her oldest son,
Rashaun, had become very attached to him and she couldn’t bring
herself to break his heart for the second time.

It was that very decision tormenting her now.
There wasn’t any doubt in her mind that if she would have gone with
her first instinct, her son would still be alive today. She knew it
was going to the extreme, but she had always boycotted believing in
God for allowing that to happen to her son. Surely if there was a
God, he wouldn’t punish her for fearing Him and treating people as
she wanted to be treated. What kind of God would do something like
that?

She picked up her remaining sons from school
and performed her routine. She made sure their seat belts were
buckled and their doors were locked. Twice.

“How was school today?”

“Fine,” they said in unison.

“Where do y’all want something to eat
from?”

They both said, “Glady’s Chicken and
Waffles.”

Denise immediately shook her head against it.
“How about we go eat some pizza?”

“Why can’t we eat chicken and waffles,
Momma?” the youngest one asked. “I like eating there.”

“Uhh, because I…I don’t like the man who
works there,” she stuttered.

“He mean to you?”

“Very mean.”

“Okay, Momma. Pizza sounds good.”

Denise began to relax again. She knew that
she couldn’t take any chances while she had her kids with her.

Cairo had been riding around the same block for
thirty minutes, before he finally parked and got out. He raised his
hand to knock on the door but changed his mind and turned
around.

Then something his father used to say made
him stop in his tracks. “Ego and pride have been the downfall of
many men.”

The whole situation that he was going through
was racking his brain. His transformation had made him vulnerable
to feelings he had never experienced before. Now, instead of being
cold and self-centered, Cairo found himself affectionate and
considerate--in so many words, confused.

He was determined not to let something as
petty as ego and pride be his downfall. He went back to the door
and knocked, almost proudly.

Seconds passed before someone answered. “Who
is it?”

“It’s Cairo. Open up.”

The door opened.

He entered the house just as Misty flopped
back on the couch and pulled a blanked over her. A box of Kleenex
sat on the table in front of her, and used ones filled the
wastebasket on the floor.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I just had a bad day.”

“I started worrying when you didn’t meet me
at the office for lunch. What happened?”

“It hasn’t been a good day for me, so excuse
me if I don’t feel like being questioned.”

The last thing that Cairo wanted to do was
argue. He sat down on the end of the couch. “Look, Misty. Uhh, I’m
new when it comes to this sort of thing, so I’m just going to be
straight up with you. No female has ever held my attention long
enough to make me wonder where she’s at or what she’s doing. Since
I’ve changed, my emotions and views have been going haywire. When
you stood me up today, I found myself trying to emulate my old self
and not care. But you can see how good it worked, because I’m here
now.” He smiled. Misty’s expression remained stolid. “I know that
we aren’t officially an item, and you’re not obligated to give me
an explanation. But, I thought we were close enough to show each
other courtesy. You know?”

“We are. I just don’t want to burden you with
my screwed up problems.”

“We both have issues we need help getting
past. That’s what I think brought us together, because we
understand each other’s…screwed up-ness, if you will. Since you
have been in my life, the terrible dreams about my son have
stopped, and you just don’t know how grateful I am to you for that.
I feel you saved my life, because you understood me when no one
else did. It’s like you’re my guardian angel.”

She gave that some thought before sitting up.
“I really enjoy your company, Cairo.”

“I enjoy yours, too. I feel like it’s more of
a need than a want. I don’t ever want to lose it. You.”

“I don’t want to scare you away.”

“That’s not possible,” he said, shaking his
head. “I’m here for the long run, for better or for worse.”

A whole minute passed before she built up
enough courage to tell him about the incident at Glady’s Chicken
and Waffles.

He pulled the blanked off of her and began to
examine her. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I have a few scrapes, but I’m fine.”

“What…who do you think it was?”

“I don’t have a clue. Well, I know it’s the
same woman who called the radio station, but I don’t know who she
is.”

“Called the radio station, and said what?” he
asked, frowning. “You never told me anything about that.”

“She threatened me. And I didn’t tell you
about it, because it happened before I met you. No. Actually it
happened on the same day I met you. That’s why I was in such a sour
mood when you first apologized to me.”

“What did she say to you?”

Tears sprang to her eyes as she quoted the
dreadful words of the mystery woman.

“Who is it that she misses?”

“I don’t have a clue who she’s talking about!
I done gave it so much thought, it ain’t funny. I’m just sick of
this shit! It’s just too much!”

Cairo got up for the couch and knelt down
between her legs. “Let me move you out of this house.”

“I…I…” she turned her head away from him.

“I’m not asking you to move in with me. I’ll
get you your own house.”

“I don’t know…I just don’t know. I—”

“I don’t want anything to happen to you. I’ve
lost so much…my feelings…All I’m saying is, I feel complete with
you and if something was to happen, I wouldn’t be able to take it.
I feel that God brought us together in our time of need to help us
get over our grief. And since you’ve helped me in your own way, I
fell it’s my duty to do what I can for you.”

She planted a kiss on his lips. “Thank you
for being here for me.”