Murder on the Down Low (25 page)

Nichelle wasn’t ready to give up. “I’m sure Special could convince her to keep fighting.”

“Yeah, but is that really the best thing to do? I hate agreeing with Sam, but he’s probably right. Eugene would probably be glad to settle. A trial only means he’ll have to take the witness stand and talk about all the men he slept with. We need to approach this case with the same objectivity we would any other case.”

Nichelle’s eyes started to water. Vernetta hoped she didn’t start crying.

“Well, at least once the case is over, I can go back to accepting interviews. I turned down three requests yesterday, including one from Larry King’s producer. People are actually looking to
me
as an expert on down low men. Can you believe it?”

“Good for you. Just remember me when you start raking in thousands of dollars in speaking fees.” Vernetta stretched her arms, then started gathering her things.

“So what are you doing tonight?”

Vernetta gave her an odd look, then pointed to her watch. “It’s already late. I’m going straight home to snuggle up with my husband before he forgets who I am.”

Nichelle had a sheepish look on her face. “I’ve been doing a lot of research on my new area of expertise,” she said. “As a matter of fact, I’m doing some more tonight. Why don’t you come with us?”

“What kind of research and who’s us?”

“Me and Jamal.”

Vernetta held up her hands in a stay-away posture. “No way. I heard all about that stunt you guys pulled that ended Special’s relationship with Clayton. Leave me out of your antics.”

“That wasn’t my idea. I tried to talk her out of it.”

“I wish you had. I really thought Clayton was the one.”

“Anyway, I’m picking Jamal up at nine-thirty and we’re going to this gay club.”

“What for?”

“These guys on the down low spend their lives pretending to be something they aren’t. I just wanted to hang out with them in an atmosphere where they can be themselves. I think one of the reasons they lead double lives is because they can’t be who they are in the black community.”

“Yes, they can,” Vernetta disagreed. “I know plenty of black guys who are out of the closet. One of my first cousins is gay. And he’s never been on the down low.”

“Really? I’ve been to two of your family reunions and had Thanksgiving dinner at your parents’ house more times than I can count. How come I’ve never met him?”

Vernetta shrugged. Her family had not welcomed her cousin with open arms.

“Your family’s no different than mine,” Nichelle said. “We whisper about our gay family members behind their backs and basically act like they don’t exist. Jamal told me that when his mother found out he was gay, she brought their minister to the house to pray the demons out of him.”

“I understand how they’re treated. And it’s not right. But that doesn’t give these guys the right to deceive us.”

“I’m not saying it does. Just come out with us tonight,” she prodded. “You might just learn something.”

E
ugene and Reverend Sims ordered apple pie to go and headed over to Eugene’s place in Baldwin Hills.

When Eugene opened the front door and led the way inside, the reverend stopped just inside the doorway and whistled. “Wow! This place belongs on HGTV.”

Pride showed on Eugene’s face. “I put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into hookin’ it up.”

The reverend admired the baby grand to the left of the doorway. “You play?”

“Yeah, but it’s been a while. I keep it here to add a little class to the place.”

“Well, you’ve certainly accomplished that.” The reverend ran his hand along the piano keys. “Who was your interior decorator?”

Eugene proudly tapped his chest. “You’re looking at him. Excuse me while I put the pie in the kitchen. Then I’ll show you the rest of the house.”

He returned within seconds. “Let’s start upstairs.”

As Eugene ascended the staircase, he felt the presence of Reverend Sims close behind him. Too close.
Was he imagining things or was the reverend about to make a move?
Eugene could almost hear the heavy pounding of his own heart.

“I think of the top floor as my personal retreat,” Eugene said, distracted. “The master bedroom and bath take up the entire level.”

Eugene stopped at the second-floor landing and flipped on a light switch. He opened two double doors that led into a bedroom with slate green walls and grey carpet. A window that ran the length of the room looked out over a sea of lights.

“Wow, again!” The reverend scratched his head. “This is really something.”

Eugene smiled proudly. There was an enormous circular bed positioned in the center of the room and a 60-inch flat-screen TV on the wall opposite the window. The adjacent wall contained three rows of built-in cabinets. The only other items in the room were two small nightstands and a king palm that stretched to the ceiling.

Eugene led the way to the bathroom which was equipped with a fireplace, another flat screen TV, and a built-in stereo system with in-wall speakers. The Jacuzzi tub was big enough for four.

“I’ve only seen stuff like this on TV,” the reverend said.

Eugene switched off the light and returned to the bedroom. If he was indeed feeling a vibe from the reverend, this was the place where he would find out for sure. As he lingered near the bed, Eugene felt his pulse quicken.

“Brother, you’re in the wrong business.” Reverend Sims walked up beside him and peered down at the circular bed. “This place is fantastic. You ought to go into interior decorating.”

Eugene stood stock still, waiting for the reverend to make his intentions clear.

“Can’t say I’ve ever slept in a round bed before. I wonder how Juanita would feel about one of these.”

The mention of
Mrs
. Sims rocked Eugene back to reality. He was way off base with the reverend. The man was apparently exactly what he appeared to be. A smart, caring minister who was as straight as an arrow.

“Let’s go downstairs,” Eugene suggested.

He gave the reverend a quick tour of the den, his office, the two downstairs bedrooms, another full bathroom and a powder room. He saved the kitchen for last.

The reverend headed straight for the granite topped island in the center of the room. “Your contractor did some high quality work here.” The reverend ran his hand across the smooth surface. “Tell me something? Why does a single man need two refrigerators?”

Eugene chuckled. “That always trips people out. Actually one of them is a deep freezer. I like to buy in bulk. I entertain a lot. Or I used to.”

Reverend Sims circled the island, then pulled out a bar stool and sat down. “Your real friends will still be there for you,” he said. “You’ll see.”

Eugene swung open a cabinet over the dishwasher. “How about some coffee with our dessert?” Eugene perused the shelves. “I have a very expensive espresso machine that I don’t get to show off too often.”

The reverend held up a hand. “I’m afraid that stuff is a little too strong for my constitution.”

“Regular it is, then. So will it be Hawaiian Mocha, Hazelnut, Dark Peruvian or—”

“You choose,” the reverend said with a grin. “I’m not much of a coffee connoisseur. And I take it black. No cream, no sugar.”

“Okay, let’s go with the Dark Peruvian.”

Eugene took the canister of coffee from the middle shelf and was about to turn around, when he felt Reverend Sims standing behind him. So close that he could feel the reverend’s breath on the back of his neck. Eugene stiffened, then relaxed in anticipation.

So he wasn’t imagining things.

S
pecial stood in Eugene’s backyard peering through his kitchen window, trying to muzzle her emotions. She couldn’t believe that she was about to watch Eugene make out with some man!

Her knees buckled and she gripped the windowsill with both hands to keep from collapsing.

The day had started out well for Special. Though she’d been released to return to work by Dr. Blanchard, she was finding it more and more difficult to stay focused. So when her alarm clock rang that morning, she called in sick and slept in until noon. Then she put on her cutest workout clothes and did a grueling three miles up and down the steep hills on Green Valley Circle.

At five-thirty, she had another session with Dr. Blanchard. The psychologist was finally helping her see what everybody else saw, that her anger at Eugene was turning into a dangerous obsession that had to end.

Her court date on the assault charge was six weeks away and she prayed every night that she would not have to go to jail. In the meantime, she had promised herself that she was going to put Eugene Nelson completely out of her mind.

After her therapy session, she stopped by the Howard Hughes Promenade for a manicure and pedicure. Her final treat for the day was the new Samuel L. Jackson movie. Now that was a
real
man.

Special had not felt this good in weeks. She only wished Vernetta could have shared the day with her. She had just eased her Porsche out of the parking structure and turned right onto Center Drive toward Sepulveda when she thought she saw Eugene and another man sitting at a table in the window of Marie Callender’s Grill.

She was so startled that her foot hit the gas instead of the brake and she darted into the intersection at Park Terrace. She had to run the red light to keep another car from ramming her from behind. She couldn’t believe the man was already back to his old tricks! Church Girl had to be a stone fool for dating that asshole.

Making a left rather than a right onto Sepulveda, she circled back just to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her. When she drove past the restaurant a second time, she slowed to a crawl as she approached the window, then sped up. It was definitely Eugene! He was sitting there in full view, looking happy and relaxed with some man whose face she couldn’t see.

A voice in Special’s head told her to forget what she had just seen. But another, louder more insistent voice drowned out that advice. She parked illegally in front of the office building across from the Promenade’s north parking structure and waited for Eugene to leave. There were three different exits, and Special had no idea which one he would use. From her vantage point, she had a clear view of the cars leaving the two exits on Center Street.

Almost a half hour later, just when she was about to give up, she spotted Eugene pulling out of the garage in what she assumed was a rental car. It was dark now, but she could see that no one else was in the car with him.

“Dang, I wanted to see his date!” Special said out loud as she started up her car. “I bet he has a wife or girlfriend at home.”

Only after turning right onto Centinela did Special realize that another car was following closely behind Eugene. It was no doubt his dinner date. Special tried to speed up to get a look at the man, but she soon dropped back for fear that Eugene would recognize her car.

Eugene turned north onto La Brea and Special assumed he was heading home. “They’re going back to his place to do their deceitful dirt.”

She dropped back even further, since she knew the way to Eugene’s house. When the Honda turned right onto Don Lorenzo and left on Don Felipe, the man in the second car did the same. This confirmed that they were headed to Eugene’s house. Special kept straight down Don Lorenzo and headed back west up Stocker toward Fox Hills.

If Eugene was still running around sleeping with men, Church Girl needed to know about it. This time Special planned to deliver the news to her in living color.

She sped the four miles back to her apartment, grabbed her digital camera, and made it back to Eugene’s in exactly twenty-two minutes. She thought about taking a picture with her cell phone, but wanted to make sure the photo was crystal clear.

Special parked two doors away and hurried toward Eugene’s house, looking over her shoulder every few seconds. The living room curtains were drawn and she had no idea what part of the house they were in. She wasn’t even sure she could actually get a picture of Eugene and his lover, but she was going to give it her best shot. When she was certain that the coast was clear, she tiptoed as quietly as she could through the side gate that led into his backyard.

The minute she stepped onto the deck and peered into his kitchen window, she saw the man and Eugene in the kitchen, talking. The man was sitting on a stool facing Eugene, so Special couldn’t see his face. She prayed that she could get a shot of them hugging or kissing, since just sitting there talking wasn’t likely to convince Church Girl of the obvious.

Special pulled a wallet-sized camera from the pocket of her jeans, and prepared to snap a picture the second the moment presented itself. She looked through the camera lens, satisfied that the porch lamp provided sufficient lighting. Special couldn’t risk using the camera’s flash and drawing attention to herself.

Eugene’s lover stood up and something told Special that she was about to get lucky. Too bad she couldn’t see his face so she could out his ass, too. It seemed to take forever for the man to walk over to Eugene. When he finally did, Special’s nerves were so frayed she could barely hold onto the camera.

She watched as the man stood directly behind Eugene, way too close for any doubt about what was going to happen next. Just as Eugene turned around and moved in to kiss the man, Special snapped a single picture and hightailed it back to her car.

H
ey!” Reverend Sims yelled when Eugene turned and leaned in to kiss him. “What are you doing?” The reverend stepped back, both palms extended in front of him.

Eugene froze with embarrassment. “I thought you were—”

“You thought I was what?!” The reverend sounded as angry as he was amazed.

Eugene tried to swallow, but his throat wouldn’t open. “You came up behind me so . . . I thought you were coming on to me.”

Reverend Sims took another step back. “Coming on to you? I was trying to get a look at that light fixture over there.” He pointed to a purple light hanging by a thin black cord to the left of where Eugene was standing.