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Authors: Eric Jerome Dickey

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BOOK: Naughtier than Nice
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In a rushed tone I said, “Good evening.”

“It's more like morning now. So good morning.”

“Good morning. This is Miss Frankie McBroom. Is Driver available?”

“Miss McBroom, this is Driver's partner.”

“Is this Mrs. Driver?”

“Panther.”

“Panther?”

“If you're wondering, I took my nickname from the Clark Atlanta University roaring Panthers.”

“I'm sorry to disturb you, but could you tell Driver that I seem to have a situation with my stalker?”

“We were just getting in the shower.”

“I think my stalker has been inside of my home tonight.”

“Is he still inside of your home?”

“God, I hope not. My sister is here and I hope he's not in my home hiding.”

“Let me get Driver for you, Miss McBroom. In the meantime, I suggest both of you wait outside.”

Frankie

Soon Driver was back at my home.

Panther was with him.

Both wore suits.

Our introduction was brief and very professional, head nods and no handshakes. She smelled nice. Despite all that was going on, I noticed that she smelled as nice as she looked.

Driver smelled fresh and had on a different suit. His disposition was as it had been before we went to see Franklin. With them there, and since I had my gun and made Tommie wait with me in the garage, I had to explain what was going on. I told Tommie that I thought someone had broken in before she had come over.

I said to everyone, “The roses and Gatorade weren't here when I left home to go have that quick meeting with Franklin.”

Tommie said, “Who breaks into someone's house and leaves roses and Gatorade?”

“I'm trying to find out.”

“Has he broken into your house before?”

“He broke into the old house, Tommie.”

“Is that why you just up and moved all of a sudden?”

“Yes, that's why I moved. I'm not going to lie.”

“Is that why you have so much security here?”

“Tommie, give us a moment. Let me handle this. Driver, Panther, please come with me.”

Driver said, “You said he left something on your bed?”

“Something that had been left at his home before we broke up.”

Driver came into the office and looked at the DVR feed. He saw something that I hadn't seen. The video had been tampered with. The recording was continuous, not motion activated, and there was a huge time gap. Two hours of feed were missing. Between the time that Driver had picked me up and when Tommie had arrived, the video had been deleted, the system had been manipulated, and most of what I was looking at was from the night before. He said that the system hadn't been manipulated remotely.

Driver said, “Your stalker was inside of your home.”

“You're joking, right?”

“He had to have been right here. He came in, came here, and manipulated the footage.”

“Can I prove that to the police?”

“Nope. You sure can't. Gatorade. Flowers. And the toy. He sat and waited for you this time.”

“Why would he do that?”

Panther said, “Miss McBroom, I think the vibrator speaks for itself.”

I shook my head. “No, not that.”

Panther said, “One can only assume.”

Driver said, “There was a confrontation and it didn't work out in his favor. His car was smashed. He was pissed tonight. He would take it to the next level.”

She said, “He felt humiliated and the next move could have been to humiliate you.”

I asked, “Isn't that evidence, the tape being erased?”

Driver said, “No evidence is not evidence, even though we know it is evidence of tampering. You can't prove anything without any evidence. Gatorade and flowers. You said the toy was yours, but you left it at his house. A pen was moved. A painting was moved. It's circumstantial. As far as they know you have a malfunction with
the camera, or erased the feed yourself, and the rest of your complaints about your house being redecorated probably wouldn't get more than a yawn from any police officer at this hour.”

“So tonight, Franklin sat in my bedroom and waited for me and had the vibrator in his hand?”

“While I drove you around, Miss McBroom, my bet is that he came here.”

“He knows where I live.”

“It's escalated, Miss McBroom. It always escalates. Especially after a confrontation like the one you had with him tonight.”

“I've looked, but please check to make sure he's not hiding in my home. I'm going to call him and have a few more words.”

“Don't contact him. He wants a reaction. Just keep a record of when he calls, of his messages, and save all you can. With that notebook you have a great case, Miss McBroom. I recommend going to the authorities at this point, especially with what he did tonight. I think sexual assault is his intention.”

Panther said, “Sexual assault is about power, Miss McBroom.”

“He'd assault me with my own vibrator? Who does crap like that?”

Driver said, “Where I went on vacation, Miss McBroom, I was around men who did things far worse than that. He was angry. He tried to run us off the road. If I hadn't been with you, he might have assaulted you.”

“Who leaves a vibrator in a woman's bed?”

“Now is a good time to take all you have to the police.”

“I can't. This is embarrassing, but I can't.”

“What does he have on you, Miss McBroom?”

“It's silly.”

“Nothing is silly at this point.”

“There was a GoPro recorder. We used to record private moments.”

“Say no more. And he has it.”

“He stole it when we broke up.”

“Anything posted anywhere?”

“Not to my knowledge. Where would I check?”

“There are twenty-six million porn sites in the world.”

Panther said, “Sorry to hear that, Miss McBroom. There are some vile people out there.”

Panther and Driver checked the house, the backyard.

I checked the windows and doors again.

When we made our way back to the front of the house, I saw Tommie was standing up. The heavy notebook of e-mails and threats was in her hand, and she had read beyond the love letters this time. While I had been with Driver and Panther she had read what I didn't want anyone else to read.

She said, “His wife has been e-mailing you for months and threatening you like this?”

“She's sent a few e-mails.”

“A few? Don't minimize this shit, Frankie. It makes it seem like you're protecting Franklin, and I know you better not be protecting him. His wife is in Afghanistan sending threats on the government's dime.”

I showed the notebook to Driver and Panther; I let them see Mrs. Carruthers's text and e-mail rants.

Panther asked, “Do you mind if we take a few pages of this? Would love to trace the e-mail addresses. From what I can see, most were from overseas, but the e-mail addresses seem off.”

I said, “I have it all saved on my hard drive and the cloud. Take the entire notebook.”

Driver said, “Some of these look like library e-mail addresses. A library in Texas.”

“She has an accomplice stationed down there? Is this a team effort?”

“Wouldn't doubt it. If she's e-mailing this much, she's probably not doing it alone.”

“I hadn't noticed or checked for consistency in the messages, so far as writing style. At some point I just stopped reading most of the madness and saved and printed and added to the collection.”

Panther regarded the damaged suit coat as it rested on the back of the chair.

She glanced at me, proffered a questionable smile, then stood by Driver.

Driver said nothing, remained professional.

As soon as Driver and Panther left my home, veins popping in my neck, I called Franklin.

He snapped at me. “I'm being treated for a concussion in the emergency room at Kaiser on Cadillac.”

“Is this the part where you want me to sound concerned and ask why?”

“You set me up tonight.”

“How do you figure that? You called me, you wanted to meet, and I went to meet you.”

“You had your gorilla in a suit attack me for no reason.”

“Oh, he had a reason. How did you like that sledgehammer?”

“You're paying to repair my car, Frankie.”

“Fix it your damn self. You're the King of Restoration. Restore that shit and call it a wrap.”

“This hospital bill is yours too. So will be the lawsuit that follows.”

“That's a punk move. I'm fighting back now, Franklin, and now you want to go to court?”

He barked, “Jesus. It was you, wasn't it, Frankie? Is that what this call is about? You're calling me, recording me, making accusations to make it seem like I'm a burglar? Why are you setting me up?”

“I'm not playing this game. I will have you arrested for breaking and entering. I hope there is a way to charge you for leaving flowers too. Did you think leaving roses would make me feel better?”

“Roses? The two red roses I bought for you? You have them? How did that happen?”

“At least you admit to knowing about the roses you broke in and left here at my home. Who does shit like that? Why would you break into my home and wait in my bedroom for me to come home?”

“The roses should be in my kitchen right where I left them. They can't be at your house. I haven't been back home since I came to see you, since you had your gorilla attack me. Goddamn thug in a suit.”

“Your roses are in my kitchen, and don't try and pretend you've lost your memory.”

“You have the roses. Oh. I see. You're recording this and trying to set me up. This is unreal.”

“Step in my house one more time and I will shoot you in the heart, Franklin. I will not hesitate to shoot you and break into a happy dance. Heed my warning; hear the seriousness in my voice.”

“Why did you bring your underwear to my house if you didn't want to get back together?”

“Are you mad? If anyone is recording anyone, it's you trying to make it sound like I'm the one stalking you. I have all the e-mails. You stole my underwear. Who does that?”

When I hung up, Tommie was staring at me, head tilted, mouth open, like I was a loon.

“Franklin broke into your house, stole your underwear, and left the flowers and the Gatorade?”

I nodded.

She asked, “Was he here watching me? While I sat here with my headphones on, while I was focused on what I was writing, was he in this house watching me? Could he have attacked me?”

“He came for me, not for you.”

“I felt someone's energy. I assumed you were home. I thought I heard the toilet flush and that's why when I looked up and saw you at the front door I jumped like that. Then I assumed I hadn't heard
the toilet flush. I had my headphones on and he could have stood over me with a knife and stabbed me.”

“Calm down, Tommie. He's not here. He says he's at Kaiser with a concussion.”

“Now you tell me that he says he's at Kaiser because he has a little headache?”

“He's trying to establish an alibi, Tommie, that's all. I've seen this on a dozen television shows.”

“I'm telling Livvy right now. I'm calling her . . . eating Chinese food and getting in
dick
gestion will have to wait.”

“Let her sleep and let me tell her. Let me tell her and the rest of the family after the race is done.”

Her phone rang again. Blue's ringtone. She didn't answer but hearing his ringtone wrecked her.

I asked, “What's the issue that has you hiding at my house in the middle of the night?”

Tommie told me about Blue, Angela, the phone call, her being fall-down-and-pissy drunk. She ranted for ten minutes.

I said, “Please tell me Mo didn't see her mother like that.”

“They can have each other. I can have another man by the time I finish this race. I can snap my fingers and have a life better than this, with no baby-momma drama, with no disrespect.”


Never leave a bitch in your house.
The queen
never
leaves the castle for some bitch.
Never.

“But what pisses me off is that I don't understand why he gave that
slunt
a baby. Since he's already had a baby with her, he's not sure if he wants to have another one at all. I guess I'm not good enough. That's how that makes me feel. If we're going to be together, we should be a real family at some point, and not wait until my eggs are old or his sperm has to shuffle out of his dick using a damn walker.”

“Well, I love you with Blue, think you should be with a man like him, Tommie, but if it's that bad, don't be ashamed to admit it like I was ashamed to admit my one and only marriage was a trip to
hell. Break up with him, move on, get a new boyfriend, or have no boyfriend. Just make sure you're happy.”

“Blue and I are done, Frankie. He knows we're done. Monica knows it too. This time tomorrow, I'll have a new home, new address, new zip code, new loves, and a much better future.”

“Stop talking crazy, Tommie.”

“We'll see who's talking crazy. This is my last night crying over Blue.”

Gun in hand, I put my arms around her, rocked her. My alarm buzzed and I squeezed the trigger on the gun. Thank God the safety was on. We had both jumped. It was time to rush and go to the race.

I hurried and showered, grabbed my bag. Tommie was in the living room, pacing. When I passed the new and improved houghmagandy room I heard a faint noise. Something electric was alive. I opened the door and went in, still nervous. The noise came from one of the drawers. Buzzing, buzzing, buzzing.

Both dead bolts had been locked, so I had assumed Franklin hadn't infiltrated my houghmagandy room. I was wrong. He had been in there, touched my things, and then locked the doors again when he left. I knew because Fitz, Jake, and Idris were turned on; the trio danced side by side and sang in harmony.

BOOK: Naughtier than Nice
8.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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