Devilish Details (35 page)

Even as she gave the bold speech, Jazz’s
mind raced. Seconds ticked by as she wondered and worried about
Byron. Questions popped in her head like blinding flashbulbs. Who?
How? What did this unknown person plan? The door swung open. Jazz
hissed in shock at the person standing before her.

Chapter 20

Lorraine wore a long-sleeved black t-shirt
tucked into black slim jeans and carried a Glock pistol in her left
hand as an accessory, though it was pointed down Hair pulled back
into a single braid, she looked younger than her forty plus
years.

“This bitch right here,” Lorraine said.

Jazz recovered. Answers clicked into place
like wooden puzzle pieces. “Bitch times ten.”

“Got a gun I see.” Lorraine’s gaze darted
left and then right in the split second before she looked at Jazz
again.

Lorraine seemed to be surprised to find her
armed. Jazz felt sure Tyretta searched the office for Jazz’s gun,
but didn’t find it. For a good reason. Filipe had taught her useful
gangsta skills, like how to hide a gun. Jazz felt a kind of calm
settle over her. Seeing who she was up against didn’t rattle her
the way the unknown had moments before. This kind of danger she
understood.

“You know me. I pack steel on the daily.
Obviously I’m right cause you’re carryin’, too. So you were the
brains all along. I was thinkin’ your sons were runnin’ the gang.
They were just ordinary thugs with big ideas. Easy enough to let
everybody think they were in charge,” Jazz said. “Nah, they didn’t
have the brains to make the moves you did.”

“I have admit my boys ain’t never been the
brightest bulbs on the tree. So you think you got it all figured
out, huh? Too smart for your own good.”

“Kyeisha figured it out, too. So she had to
go.” Jazz reassessed how much danger she was in. Lorraine
calculated every move. She wasn’t just dumb and desperate.

“Humph, Kyeisha was greedy. That turned out
to be hazardous to her health. She figured out you still had my
property and tried to sell it to my son. Some damn nerve, huh?
Charging me big bucks for my own shit.” Wrath flickered in
Lorraine’s brown gaze for a second.

“Too bad for Kyeisha. Now I gotta ask why
you dressed like a burglar and up in my place at two-thirty in the
damn morning?”

Lorraine shrugged and gave an apologetic
grin. “I know the timing of my visit is strange, but it’s kinda
urgent.”

“You must not watch those forensic shows on
TV. You don’t write down your shit for people to find.”

Lorraine’s smile faltered before she
plastered it back in place. “Nothin’ but a bunch of old notebooks
with receipts in them. I got tax troubles, so I need that stuff. I
thought you threw it out. Now the tax man gonna say I lied.”

“So instead of calllin’ me like a normal
human being, you decide to break in with a gun? C’mon, Lorraine.
The lie is bad enough, but thinking I’m stupid is insultin’,” Jazz
smiled back, but let it freeze into a sneer. She lifted her gun
slightly.

“None of it means anything to you, or ever
will. Look, just give me the notebooks and I’ll call off the dogs,”
Lorraine forced out when Jazz didn’t respond after fifteen long
seconds of silence.

“Explain, but first relax while I come
around the desk to hear you better.” Jazz kept the gun pointed at
Lorraine’s chest.

“Okay.”

Jazz continued to aim straight at her as
Lorraine inched a few feet past the doorway. She glanced down at
her cell phone hoping to see a text from Byron. The blank screen
signaled bad news. “Explain in detail what call off the dogs means.
This time I give you permission to assume I’m a slow learner.”

“I can get the city to back off,” Lorraine
said.

“Your pals are all either fired or in jail
for taking bribes,” Jazz shot back bluntly.

Lorraine grimaced for a second, then her
expression eased. “I can make sure plenty of folks around the
neighborhood testify for you. They’ll say this place ain’t as bad
as others say. They’ll say you feed the homeless and hungry
kids.”

“Why would they listen to your pals? You got
a dirty record when it comes to obeying the law,” Jazz replied.

“Friends of friends with no criminal
records. I put some layers between them and me. There’s a least a
couple of city employees left who won’t scratch the surface,”
Lorraine said.

“You spread around some cash, huh? Okay, but
the city closing me down is the least of my worries. What about the
murder charge? Only right you fix that since you set me up,” Jazz
said matter-of-factly with a shrug.

“Hmm, maybe I can find some witnesses that
saw Kyeisha with unknown guys that night.” Lorraine glanced into
the office warily. “I’ve heard talk she got in with a bad
crowd.”

“What? Oh, you think I’m recording our
little social visit or something. Look around. I’m not dumb enough
to have a camera in here, even I was expectin’ company.” Jazz
nodded an invitation for Lorraine to check again.

“These days cameras can be anywhere and look
like anything.” Despite her words, Lorraine’s gaze darted from the
walls, the desk, and back to Jazz several times. A full minute
ticked by.

“You’re not into computers, which is why you
had those nice notebooks for me to find.” Jazz smiled at
Lorraine.

Only the slight tightening of her jaw gave
away Lorraine’s fury. Then she smiled back at Jazz easily. “You
won’t get anything out of the notebooks.”

Jazz started to say more when the screen of
her cell phone lit up to display caller ID. MiMi’s grin looked back
at her. What the hell did she want? “Why don’t we let the police
decide if they’re useful or not.”

Lorraine stared hard at Jazz. “I can help
you out a lot more than the police. Including that cute cop you
been screwin’. The rest of his cop friends want to see you go down
for Kyeisha’s killin’.”

“Maybe so. But this is still my property.
You’re trespassin’ and armed. In Louisiana I could shoot you and
claim self-defense,” Jazz said.

“I’m tired of playin’ this silly ass game. I
didn’t come here without back-up. And why you think that fancy
security system ain’t workin’, huh? Why your boy Byron ain’t
textin’ you back? Cause he’s
my
boy, that’s why. ” Lorraine
gestured with her head toward Jazz’s desk. “Go on, check your
phone. Nothin’.”

“You’re lyin’.”

Lorraine laughed with genuine amusement in
her voice. “You sure?”

Jazz felt a stab of cold fear. Her words
rang with truth, setting off more alarms bells in her head. Tyretta
didn’t know the security system or cameras, but Byron worked with
the installer. Byron hadn’t known the significance of the old
papers until Jazz told him. He could have been feeding Lorraine
inside information instead of Tyretta. Or maybe it was both of
them. Jazz’s mind swirled with the effort to sort through truth,
lies, and deceptions. Every conversation, suggestion, or gesture
for months took on a new meaning. “I know you’ve had a shock. Let’s
call it a draw with the guns, alright? You show me where in here
you got the notebooks. I take them and leave. Sure I got help, but
they can’t get in. I came inside alone.” Lorraine spoke like she
was negotiating an everyday business deal.

“How’d you get in here? I saw Byron lock the
doors. The cameras were still working,” Jazz said.

“You couldn’t watch every door every minute.
While you were busy, I slipped in. I hid in the storeroom until
everybody was gone. Kinda comfy in there. I had water and some
wings. Taste good, too. All I had to do was wait.” Lorraine seemed
relaxed now. “Like I said, you can’t figure out what’s in my old
tablets. Just some scribblin’.”

Jazz glanced at her cell phone. MiMi, chatty
even in text, had kept tapping away on her end. “You mean the code
with names of your son’s drug and illegal guns customers? Filipe
won’t be happy to know you decided to write a book that includes
him. I’ll bet some of your other business partners won’t be happy
either.”

“You’re lyin’, bitch,” Lorraine hissed. She
started to move.

“I wouldn’t if I was you,” Jazz warned. “I
may be so upset I just start shootin’. You got a problem. I’m not
the only one that knows about the notebooks.”

“What are you sayin’?” Lorraine asked, but
from the way her brown face turned gray it was clear she already
knew.

“If my back-up doesn’t hear from me, she’ll
start sending e-mails to Crime Stoppers, the police, and the DA’s
office. No tellin’ how creative my crew will get. They love
spreadin’ juicy news.”

“I should have killed your ass back when you
stole my property. Let’s put down our guns and fight it out.
Shooting you won’t be as satisfyin’ as stompin’ in your damn head
until I see your brains,” Lorraine shouted.

“I ain’t into hand-to-hand combat, fool. A
bullet in your head will do me just fine,” Jazz retorted. “I didn’t
have to steal your property. You practically
gave
it to me,
and thanks by the way. You should have had sense enough to keep
cash on hand to pay the taxes.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Lorraine snarled. She
gripped the gun tighter, but didn’t raise it.

“Yeah, the truth hurts like a mutha, don’t
it? Wait a minute. You hid your cash away, or maybe your punk ass
son stole it. That’s why you didn’t have the money. Damn, I thought
you woulda planned better.” Jazz laughed as Lorraine breathed out
in angry puffs like an enraged cow.

“Shuttin’ your big mouth for good is worth
any price.” “Uh-huh. You’re back-up is runnin’ late,” Jazz said,
putting as much taunt in her tone as possible. “You can’t seem to
control your crew. Ding, more points off.”

Lorraine started to speak again, but instead
she darted a look at the window. Then she stared at Jazz again. A
slow smile pulled up her full lips. The tinkle of broken glass
alerted Jazz and she ducked. A pop followed a split second later.
Lorraine fired a shot at her. Jazz felt a punch to her shoulder,
but she managed to scramble behind her desk.

“Byron ain’t comin’ like I said, bitch.
Here’s the deal. You’re going to get killed by a burglar. Naturally
he’ll never get caught. Tomorrow your employees won’t be able to
get into the club. Maybe a day or so will go by before your sister
finds your body. But tonight we’ll have plenty of time to find my
notebooks and disappear like ghosts,” Lorraine called out.

When she peeked around the desk corner, Jazz
saw Lorraine still stood outside in the hallway. “You been watchin’
too many cop shows, Lorraine. Byron wasn’t my only back-up. My
sister knows I’m here.”

“Bullshit. She’d have shown up by now,”
Lorraine said.

“I think she’s hit. You want me to come in?
I can shoot the lock off the door.” A female voice came from the
window.

“Don’t be so damn stupid. That might take
three or four shots. Neighbors would call the police,” Lorraine
yelled.

“I didn’t know you were so handy with a gun,
Tyretta,” Jazz shouted as she shifted position. She winced at a
burning pain in her right shoulder. Her right arm started to feel
weak, and blood made her sleeve stick to it.

“Shit,” Lorraine hissed.

Jazz had been distracted, but then she heard
the sound. Sirens whining in the distance got closer. Help on the
way. She fought against the dizzy feeling that threatened to leave
her helpless.

“You lied, huh? If Byron was with you
Tyretta would already be inside. He’s got keys.” Jazz forced
confidence into her voice. She fired a round into the ceiling to
scare them, and in hopes it would be heard outside.

“I’m gone get outta here,” Tyretta screeched
through the broken window.

“You leave, and I’ll hunt your ass down. Get
your shit together and shoot through the back door,” Lorraine
shouted back.

“I thought you said...”

“Shut the fuck up and do it,” Lorraine
screamed.

Jazz laughed and fired again. “Will she make
it before I put a hole in you?”

“Shit!”

Feet pounded down the hallway as Lorraine
abandoned her position in favor of escape. Jazz forgot about being
hurt as she raced after her. Two muffled pops came from the
direction of the steel reinforced back door. She couldn’t see
Lorraine though. Police sirens blocked out other noise and then
went silent.

“I know you in here. Won’t take ‘em long to
get in, Lorraine. You’re outnumbered and out gunned,” Jazz yelled,
but kept her head down. She decided not to risk going into the
club. Instead she crouched in the hallway.

“Fine, I’ll catch a charge. You’re still
going to trial for a killing,” Lorraine shouted back.

“They’ve got Tyretta by now. A hundred bucks
says she tells ‘em everything within the first two hours,” Jazz
replied. She laughed loudly.

Lorraine let fly a string of curse words. “I
don’t give a shit no more.”

Gunfire hit the walls outside the hallway.
As Jazz scrambled away intense pain brought back the dizziness.
Lorraine kept firing and cussing. Jazz fired back in a desperate
attempt to hold her off. But Lorraine seemed enraged to the point
of insanity. Voices filled the club, then more shots. Nauseated,
Jazz crawled along the floor toward her office. Boots thumped
against the floor behind her. She shuddered in anticipation of a
bullet to her head, but spun to face the attack with gun in
hand.

“Jazz, stop!” A tall silhouette loomed
against the dim light. “It’s over.”

“I know,” she whispered and blacked out.

* * *

Sirens. Blurred lights and the sensation of
movement roused Jazz from a deep sleep. She blinked hard at a
strange white face.

“Good thing you ran out of rounds,” a deep
male voice rumbled.

She turned her head toward it. Byron’s brown
eyes stretched wide with fear. Perspiration beaded on his forehead.
His face looked odd, one side larger than the other. A hand
stretched out to him, and Byron accepted a towel. He dabbed his
forehead.