Authors: D. L. Sparks
Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #General, #African American Police, #Urban Life, #Thrillers, #African American
Between Friends (2 page)
“Calm down,” Phil insisted. “He'll be here. Give him a minute.”
I let out a sigh and started jabbing the scan button on the radio.
“Seriously, what's your problem?” my partner asked.
“This city is my damn problem.”
Phil chuckled. “You been back in Atlanta airspace for forty-eight hours and you already tripping?”
“Man, shut up.”
“Why don't you just go?”
I shook my head. “I don't know, man.”
“I'm just sayin', I think you'd feel better.”
“Shut up, Phil.”
“Whatever.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “You know what you need?”
I laughed. “No, but I got a feeling you're about to tell me.”
“A woman. I'm about to find you one.”
I hit the button on the side of the driver's seat and laid my seat back a little. “Just broke up with one, remember? Plus I don't need any ho you met on Twitter or desperate married chick that you got trolling around on your Facebook page.”
He laughed. “Some of them women are off the chain on there. You should see some of the pictures that hit my phone, and most of the time without me even asking.”
“I know
you,
so I believe you.” I laughed.
you,
so I believe you.” I laughed.
He laughed too. “Whatever, man. Anyway, that's the third chick you broke up with in the last year. That's why you so damn cranky.” He leaned back, causing the passenger seat to strain against his large frame. “That's exactly why a brother like me is single.”
“No, a brother like you is single 'cause you got a fucked up attitude about women.” I laughed.
“Oh, you got jokes? Man everybody can't be the ultimate male model like you,” he laughed. “Locs freshly twisted, line-up every week, muscles all buff.”
I busted out laughing. “Yo, partner, you trying to date me now too?”
“Fuck you man, I'm just sayin',” he said, cracking up.
I reached up and smoothed my goatee. “That disposable attitude you have toward women is gonna get old after a while. You need to ease up and maybe one will stay around long enough to remember how to get to your house.”
“I like it that way.” He grinned. “Don't have to worry about getting stalked.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“I must be doing something right, 'cause you all tense and my phone is blowing up.”
I chuckled. “Come on, man, it's blowing up with desperate-ass married women with crazy husbands.”
We both laughed.
I reached up and scratched my temple. “Say what you want. One day you gon' stumble across the right one and when you lose her”âI looked over at him and smiledâ“and your dumb ass probably will lose her, then maybe you'll understand and we can continue this conversation.”
Phil chuckled. “Please. That's why I don't catch feelings. 'Cause when you mess around and catch feelings, it ain't long before you sitting in an unmarked police truck crying to your partner.”
We both couldn't help but laugh at that.
I looked up and saw a dude running toward the truck. “Is that your boy?”
“Yeah.” Phil hit the button and the tinted window on the Tahoe hummed downward. “What's good Darius? What you got?”
“House right around the corner, 1275.”
I asked, “You sure you can cop what we need?”
“Yeah, man,” the informant answered, agitated. “Just be there in five minutes.”
Phil rubbed his goatee. “I'ma call you in four. Answer your cell, slide it in your pocket and keep it on so we can hear everything.” Big Phil slid him a stack of marked hundred-dollar bills. “Don't fuck this up. No less than six.”
He nodded. “Just show up. I got you.”
“When the bust goes down, we're gonna have to arrest you too, to make it look legit,” I added.
Darius cut his eyes at me. “Yeah, I hear you.”
This time I hit the button and rolled up the passenger-side window. I didn't care if he got mad or not. I didn't like him.
Phil laughed. “Why you gotta do him like that?”
“Something about him I don't like.”
He shook his head and laughed. “You don't like nobody.”
I got on the radio and gave the information to the backup that had been strategically placed around the neighborhood. All of them would be within a left or a right turn away when the bust went down.
Exactly four minutes later, Phil dialed the CI. He answered and Phil put his cell on speaker so we could listen to what was going on.
“What's up, man? What you got for me?” we heard him ask.
“I got six, like you wanted,” the supplier said. “Right here. You got the money?”
“Right here.”
“Cool. Cool,” the supplier said.
There was a brief silence, followed by the sound of chairs being moved around, and then what sounded like a door opening and closing.
I heard Darius ask, “That all of it?”
“Yeah.”
I jumped on the radio. “Units, move in! Units, move in!”
The Tahoe I was driving lurched forward when I hit the gas and bent the corner on two wheels. Phil jumped out, gun drawn running toward the house before I pulled to a complete stop. The other three units screeched to a halt in front of the house.
Murphy was up the front steps ready to blow the door. He yelled out their arrival before kicking in the door. “Search warrant! DEA.”
I sprinted around back and saw two guys facedown on the ground with a knee in their backs being handcuffed.
“Get down! Get down! Let me see your hands,” Phil yelled from inside the house.
It wasn't long before the informant and two other men were being led out of the house in handcuffs. I walked over to the supplier, grabbed his handcuffs and twisted his hands up behind his back.
“Ahh!” he screamed out.
“Man, shut up,” I barked. “Look, I got a proposition for you.”
“I don't want to hear shit you have to say,” he spat back.
“Hey, it's up to you. You can either do a minimum twenty”âI bent down close to his earâ“and that's federal time, playa, not that revolving door downtown on Rice Street, or you can help me out.”
Phil walked over, smiling. “I suggest you do what my partner says. Somebody called and interrupted his beauty sleep and he's
pissed
!”
pissed
!”
Phil chuckled at his own joke.
He twisted his body to see Phil more clearly. “Help you how?”
“You give us your supplier, and we never met,” I said.
He turned and scowled at me. “Just like that. You gonna let a brotha go?”
I shrugged. “It's up to you. You can either help us out or get comfortable at Club Fed.” I asked, “What's it gonna be?”
He dropped his head. “Look, I usually go through a runner and all I know about his connect is his street name. I ain't ever met the dude, but I know they call him Geech.”
I smiled. “That'll work.”
Chapter Two
Idalis
I'm in town baby girl.
That's all the text said, but I guess coming from him that was all it needed to say.
Trip and I were inseparable growing up. We had our own set of friends but we always managed to wind up together somehow. From the immature halls of elementary school to fun-fill halls of Booker T. Washington High all the way to the tense halls of Clark Atlanta University, we were two peas in a pod. We helped each other navigate our way through and made sure we made it to the next level together. It wasn't until that things started to change for us.
I tossed my keys onto the dining-room table; they landed next to a stack of wedding magazines and a box of favors, which my sister had promised to help me put together. I picked up the stack of mail and flipped through the pile. It was mostly bills and junk, so I tossed it back onto the table and kicked my shoes off before grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator. It was so hot outside and I had been running in and out of stores all afternoon. I couldn't wait to peel off my clothes and shower away the layer of sweat that was covering my body.
Once had showered and was comfortable in shorts and a tee, I called my twin sister, India. She and I might have been twins, but that's definitely where the similarities ended. She didn't have any kids and I had a son, Cameron, and was about to get married in less than two months. Recently she had moved back in with my mother and was working on her master's in business.
The music she was blasting, Jill Scott's
Blessed
, came across the line before she did. “What's up, Twin?”
Blessed
, came across the line before she did. “What's up, Twin?”
“Can you turn that down please?” I complained.
I heard her mumble something smart before the volume lowered. “You happy now?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“What do you want, Idalis, other than to regulate how loud the music is in my car?” she asked.
“I got a text from Trip earlier, he's in town.”
“You talked to him yet?”
“No, not yet. I might call him later.”
“
Might
?” she questioned.
Might
?” she questioned.
I sucked my teeth. “You heard me, might.”
“Okay, whatever, we still meetin' tomorrow for lunch?”
“I'll let you know.”
“What you mean?” she asked, attitude all in her voice.
“I'll have to see.”
She sucked her teeth. “You mean you have to see if you're allowed out.”
“Don't start with me,” I said.
“You're a loser. Call and let me know. Bye.”
“Bye.” I hung up.
I stood up and made my way to the kitchen with my empty water bottle. It was still early and the house was quiet. Too damn quiet. Cameron was with my mother and I was lost. I was used to having hustle and bustle going on around me. I looked at the clock and realized that I still hadn't heard from my man all day. I'd sent him a few texts but he hadn't responded to any of them. I scrolled through my call history, found his name and hit send.
He answered, “Briscoe.”
“Hey.” I stood at the kitchen counter, picking at the edge of a dishcloth.
“Hey, mama, what's up?”
With the sound of his voice, my body warmed. His throaty tones had always been so hypnotic to me. I didn't know who sounded sexier sometimes, him or T.I.
“I've been texting you all day.”
I heard paper rustling around. “Man I been busy. Plus I thought you'd be somewhere catchin' up with ya boy.”
“Wow. Seriously, you're going there?”
“What?” he asked, laughing a little. “He your best friend right?”
“Whatever.” I tossed the dishcloth onto the counter.
“Don't be like that, girl. What you doin'?”
“Getting ready to go get Cameron in a little while.”
“You at home?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Thought you were going by the club.”
“I did, but I had to run some errands for the wedding and they took longer than I thought,” I said.
He let out a sarcastic laugh. “Did your errands include a trip downtown to Spring Street?”
“No they didn't, smart ass. I had this appointment booked at the reception hall weeks ago.”
He didn't say anything. That was my opportunity to mention the text message, but I already didn't like the direction of this conversation so I didn't.
“Hello?”
“I'm here,” he said.
“I know you're not tripping,” I said.
“Nah, I'm straight, but I need to go.”
Reluctantly I asked, “What time are you coming home?”
“I don't know. But I'll call you when I'm on my way.”
“All right.”
“Yeah.”
I sat there for a second after disconnecting his call tapping my phone on my leg. I suddenly found myself with too much free time on my hands and nothing to do.
Maybe I should have gone to the club, after all.
Nervous energy propelled me around the house. I made my way upstairs and tossed some dirty clothes into the hamper and folded some clean ones, but even that wasn't enough to stop my mind from wandering.
After a while I stretched out on the couch, hit the power button on the remote control and started flipped channels. For a while I sat there scanning stations, not really looking for anything or for that matter, watching anything. It didn't take long before that got old and I ended up moving from the living-room to the kitchen then back again.
I was restless.
And I knew why.
“It's only five o'clock,” I said to out loud to no one.
I headed upstairs to my room, swapped out my shorts for workout clothes, grabbed my bag and keys, and headed to Metro Fitness, off Metropolitan Parkway. At times it was technically a meat market but that's not why I went. I went to work out and let off some steam. India hated it; she said there was too much ass hanging out for her.
When I got there, I was actually surprised by how crowded it was for the middle of the week. I actually had to wait for a treadmill. When I finally got one, a short dark-skinned girl, with way too many muscles, told me that there was a thirty-minute time limit. I nodded before placing my cell on the display and began to try to outrun my stress.
Or maybe it was my past.
I huffed and puffed; and somewhere around mile five, the wind got knocked out of me when someone came up behind me and spoke.
“Excuse me, ma'am, are you gonna be long?” the voice asked.
I slowed my pace, but I didn't stop.
I smiled, speaking without turning around. “No, sir, I'm almost finished.”
I took a deep breath; I could smell his cologne. He was officially in my space. I slowed down my pace until the machine shut itself off. I picked up my phone and blotted my face with my towel.
“What's up, stranger?” I said, turning around and looking up into my best friend's eyes.
He smiled a beautiful smile. He looked goodâI couldn't deny him that. He scooped me up in his arms and wrapped me in a hug.
“What are you doing here, Trip?”
“My partner, Phil, dragged me out here.”
I scanned the room. “Where is he?” I had never met his partner. At that moment I was reminded that there were so many parts of his life that I didn't know about. Considering how I used to be a huge part of his lifeâand now I was almost a strangerâthe thought stung a little.
“In the weight room, supposed to be working out but trying to push up on some girl.”
We smiled as a couple years' worth of tension weaved in and out of the space between us, filling in gaps of space that we couldn't seem to fill with words.
He stared at me for a second, then spoke. “You want some water?”
“Sure.”
We walked to the juice bar. He bought two bottles of water and turned his attention back to me. “Look, I want to apologize about ... ” he started.
“No need.”
“Yes, there is. That whole situation was justâ”
I cut him off. “I understand. Your dad had just died; you had Camille back in New Orleans. Things were crazy. I'm just glad to see you.”
We grabbed our water and walked toward the basketball courts and took a seat in the bleachers. There were a lot of brothers living out their NBA dreams at the gym. A few looked damn good; others looked a hot mess.
He took off his leather weight-lifting gloves and laid them on the bleacher next to him. I watched him as he opened his water and instinctively reached for mine so he could open it. I passed it to him, but not without our hands touching.
My mind was cloudy.
Thoughts bounced around like giant beach balls.
I looked up and a guy on the other side of the court caught my eye. He looked familiar, but I couldn't place his face. Just as fast as he had appeared in my line of sight, he disappeared.
Trip said something. I cleared my head and my throat, then took a sip of water. “I'm sorry, what?”
“You always come here to work out in the evening?”
“Not usually. My son's with my mom and I was home by myself,” I said.
A smile spread across his face, which made my legs weak. “What? Your fiancé didn't want to stay home to keep you company?”
I let out a small laugh. “You got jokes.”
He winked. “Nah, I'm just playing. When is the wedding?”
I looked down at my ring finger. It was empty. I had left the ring on my dresser. I didn't like wearing jewelry when I worked out. “August.”
“Do I get an invitation?”
“Gotta have an address to send it to.”
Again he flashed that smile.
“You look good, Idalis.” His eyes scanned my body. “A little skinny for my taste, but you still look good.”
I slapped his arm. “Shut up.”
“Surprised his controlling ass still hasn't dragged you across the broom.”
“Don't start,” I said.
“What? Y'all been engaged for a minute.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know what. I have been playing referee with y'all since college.”
He gave the basketball court his attention. Made a few sounds like he enjoyed what he was seeing. I pulled the ponytail holder out of my hair, letting it fall down across my back and shoulders. I ran my fingers through it, never taking my eyes off Trip. I allowed myself to become reacquainted with his features: the creamy color of his fair skin, his striking hazel eyes, and the perfect lines that framed his full lips, which made up the mustache and beard that blended flawlessly into his goatee.
My eyes took in the way his long, thick, dark eyelashes framed his almond-shaped eyes. How his dreadlocks fell past his shoulders and rested on his back when pulled into a ponytail. I remembered when he started growing them in college; he was one of the few men who looked damn good with them. He kept them neat, got them re-twisted on a regular. He still looked the same to me; the only thing that had changed about him was the fact that his features were more mature.
He spoke without looking at me. “Why are you staring at me?”
I bit my bottom lip and laughed a little. “No reason.”
Then he turned to look at me, reached up, and tucked my hair behind my ear. “Waffle House?”
“You still love that place,” I said laughing.
“No doubt.” He smiled.
“Guess I should be grateful you didn't suggest the Varsity.”
A look came over his face like he was actually considering what I'd just said.
“Trip, no!”
He laughed. “Come on let's go.”
I waited by the front door while he went to let his partner know he was leaving. We headed out, with me following behind his truck in my car. Once I was in the car, I called my mother to check on Cameron and she reassured me that he was fine.
My car trailed Trip's truck into the parking lot of a Waffle House, which wasn't too far from the gym. Once inside, he ordered steak and eggs; I ordered a waffle and a cup of coffee. For a moment we sat in silence, pretending we were interested in what the other patrons were doing. Finally he spoke, snapping me out of my trance.
“So what's up, baby girl? How you been?”
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