Crazy Summer (39 page)

Bookie walked across the floor with Jeremy on his heels. They passed the bar where an older looking guy was wiping down the countertop. Bookie led him to a small table in the left-hand corner of the club. A dim light hung from the ceiling where they were about to sit. Bookie pulled out a chair and took a seat. Jeremy did the same. They eyed one another again. Bookie took a deep breath.

Homicide Detective Ronald Avery sat behind his desk with four separate files spread out in front of him. A knock came from the other side of his door.

“Come in,” he said, keeping his attention on the files.

A pleasant-looking woman in her thirties entered the office. She was casually dressed in a two-piece skirt suit with her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail.

“Hello, Mr. Avery,” she said cheerfully.

“Hi, Cindy. What do you have for me?”

“Two bodies surfaced this morning in the Savannah River.”  She flipped open a file. “You’re going to love this.”

She pulled out two black and white photos and placed them in front of Detective Avery. He picked them up, examining them very carefully. Nearly two minutes passed before he looked up at Cindy.

“Neither body has a head,” he said calmly.

She nodded and then removed two more photos. “No hands either,” she said and pointed.

Detective Avery looked closer, nearly staring at the photos. He began to nod his head very slowly as if he was highly impressed. He rubbed the hair underneath his chin as he looked up at Cindy again.

“We may have a problem,” he said suspiciously.

*****

An attendant in a white coat led Detective Avery down a long white corridor and into the cold morgue. There were several rows of oversized drawers labeled by numbers. The attendant didn’t say anything; he just moved toward two drawers, pulled them both out, and unzipped the body bags. Detective Avery took notes while observing the bodies, writing down descriptions of scars and tattoos. Then he examined the lady’s body. The neck area was wrapped in gauze and hospital tape. Then he noticed the word ‘Summer’ tattooed in cursive letters on her right breast. He quickly jotted that down in his notepad and pulled out his cell phone.

A voice answered from the other end.

“Detective Towers, please,” he said and turned toward the white-coat attendant. He motioned his hand for him to proceed with whatever else he had to do.

“Detective Towers speaking.”

Detective Avery pushed through the door and began walking down the corridor. “Hey, Detective, this is Avery.” His hard bottom shoes echoed through the halls.

“Hello, Avery. How’s life treating you in the fast lane?”  Towers asked.

“I got two bodies over here at the morgue––a Jane Doe and a John Doe. No identification except the name Summer tatted on the breast of the female.”

There was a long pause on the other end. Detective Towers worked in narcotics and was very familiar with the name.

“You said Summer, correct?”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Avery replied, standing at the elevators.

“That name surely rings a bell,” Detective Towers said. “It’s on our number one hotlist.”

Avery was inside the elevator now along with three other civilians. “First floor, please,” he told an older black lady who stood near the floor buttons. “This may be our big break,” he told Towers.

“Yeah, this is going to be one crazy summer.”

When the tall, lanky federal magistrate judge dismissed all charges in the preliminary hearing, the U.S. Attorney stirred in her seat. She looked over at Summer, who stood up. If looks could kill, Summer would’ve been dead. Summer embraced her attorney with an overwhelming hug while starring at the U.S. Attorney.

“I’ll call you,” she whispered in his ear. “And thank you for everything.” 

Her attorney separated from her and looked into her beautiful eyes. She had her hair cut short and styled neatly; her skin was flawless. Summer wore a linen suit and heels to match. With her eyes penetrating into his, she leaned in and kissed his cheek. There was nothing else said.

Outside in the lobby of the federal building, Bookie stood against the wall casually dressed in a three-piece pinstriped suit and black Mauri Gators. When Summer came through the door, he fell in stride with her down the stairs. They were escorted to a gleaming black stretch limousine. The uniformed chauffeur closed the door once they were both inside.

Bookie sat across from Summer and poured himself a drink, some new exotic shit he had imported from France. Summer slid on her shades and placed a black silk scarf over her head. She stared through the tinted window as they exited the courthouse parking lot in downtown Augusta. Bookie poured her a drink and handed her the glass, which she took.

“You heard the situation about the state?” she asked him.

“The state can’t do shit,” he said after taking a sip from his glass. “It’s double jeopardy.”  He fired up a cigarillo.

“It seems like if you beat the feds, you should be able to beat the state, too,” she whispered.

The panel window that separated them from the chauffeur lowered.

“Ma’am…sir, any destination in Augusta?” the driver asked, while looking at them through the rearview mirror.

Summer removed her shades. “I need to see the twins.”

“Do you want to go to the airport, ma’am?”

She picked up the car phone and pressed a speed dial number. Within seconds, a female voice answered.

“Hello.”

“May I speak with Jermaine, please?” Summer asked politely.

Jermaine was living in his own condo in North Carolina. He was a starting forward for the University of North Carolina. There was a short silence, and then his deep groggy voice came through the phone.

“Hey, Ma.”

“How you know it was me?” A smile spread across her lips. “What nigga doesn’t know how his mama sounds on the phone?” Jermaine responded, then asked, “What happened in court?” 

“All the federal charges were dropped. I don’t know if the state will try to bring anything up or not. Right now, I’m untouchable.” 

She lifted her shades and looked at Bookie, who smiled and shook his head while French rolling his cigarillo smoke.

“Well, everything good then?”

“You can say that,” she said. “How you doin’ up there?”

“Everything’s good on dis end. What about twin? You talked to him?”

Curiously, her eyebrows rose. “When’s the last time you spoke with him?”

“Almost two weeks now.”

Summer hesitated briefly. “I’ma contact him now. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay. I love you, alright?”

“I love you, too, baby.” She hung up, her eyes fixed on Bookie. “You talked to him?” she asked, a touch of concern in her voice.

He sipped his champagne again. Bookie was cool as hell and a gangsta to his heart. Summer was his heart. He cracked the window slightly. The wind ruffled Summer’s scarf as he threw the butt of the cigarillo out.

Nodding his head politely, Bookie replied, “He’s alright.”

His response hit hard, as if to say,
Don’t ask me about it again.
He pressed the button, and the window went back up.

Summer dialed the number. She caught the hint that Bookie was in one of his moods. He leaned back and closed his eyes.

“McKey resident,” a soft female voice answered.

“Whom am I speaking with?” Summer asked.

“This is Diamond.”

“How you doing, Diamond? Is Jeremy in?”

“Who’s calling?”

“His mother.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. McKey,” she said cheerfully. “It’s just been so many people calling for him, and he had me here to take all the calls. Can you hold for a minute?”

“Um hum.” Summer’s eyes rolled in one small circle.

Moments later, Jeremy came to the phone. “Whuzzup, Mama?”  he said excitedly. “You beat that shit?”

She couldn’t help but smile. Her kids glorified their mother, and she loved it.

“Who’s Diamond?”

“A friend of mine in the real estate business. Her brother jus’ dropped his solo album on an independent label. He needs some money behind him. I already talked to Bookie about it, but he told me to wait and see what you had to say.”

Summer listened with open ears. “Right now, think NBA, and we’ll worry about the minor business,” she told him. “Are your grades up?”

“Grades on deck, Ma.” 

After they said their goodbyes, Summer shifted her conversation back to Bookie. She stared at him for a minute before saying anything. She pulled her skirt up, kicked her right leg up, and pulled her silk thong to the side, revealing that she was neatly shaven down below. She tapped Bookie’s leg.

“Have some?” she asked pleasingly and began massaging her clit.

Bookie let out a half laugh. He knew her freaky ass was up to something. He leaned up with a professional mannerism that he’d adopted from somewhere. He took her hand, the one with her sweet bodily juices on it, and sucked on her fingers. As he moved next to her, she quickly unbuttoned his pants. His soft penis grew hard as she fumbled with his pants. She freed his wood and quickly climbed on top. She was tight at first, but her wetness soon took over. Bookie held her ass cheeks, guiding her up and down in a slow rhythm. He removed one of her breasts and slowly sucked on her hard nipple.

“I love you, baby,” she moaned.

Bookie rotated his hips. Summer wanted to bounce harder. He knew she’d come quickly. She always did on the first round. Her breathing grew more rapid.

“Fuck me harder…”

He gave her more.

She spread her ass further and dug her nails damn near through his shirt. She sucked her teeth as she felt her body beginning to sweat. Her heart was beating uncontrollably. Then she gave a violet shiver and let out a roar.

“I wanna give you your first child,” she whispered in his ear.