Piece Keeper (9 page)

“Yeah, yeah… I know. And what goes up must come
down. Keep your clichés. I close cases.”

Black snatched his door open, got in, slammed the
door closed, and turned the engine on as he rolled down the window
and stuck his head out. “Not with me, not in this way. And for your
information I worked on the Cain campaign asshole!” he blurted out
before putting the truck in drive and pulling off.

***

Chapter Nine

The night was calm and soothing. Black and Morena
enjoyed the melodic sounds of calypso. Morena lay in his arms on
the back yard deck listening to Harry Belafonte’s ‘Jamaica
Farwell’. A week had gone by and the D.A. still hadn’t decided if
she would file charges against the chief, Foster, and Hunter. He
was getting pressure from back home to wrap this case up and get
back to Chicago. Cases were piling up and he was one of the best
D.A.s in the state. He took a sip of the strawberry daiquiri Morena
whipped up for them. Truth was he was ready to put all of this
behind him as well; win, lose, or draw, something needed to happen.
A tap on the sliding door took him out of his thoughts. He raised
himself slightly from the beach chair and peered over Morena’s
shoulder to look behind them. He nodded his head. Teresa smiled,
slid the door open, and stepped outside.

“Hey guys,” she said as she copped a squat in a
chair next to the couple. She still hadn’t moved back into her
apartment.

“Hey, girl. You have fun tonight?” Morena asked
referring to her night out with James. They had been seeing more of
one another since the night he’d stayed up with her all night
talking.

“Yeah, it was cool,” she answered trying desperately
to fight back her smile.

“Just cool, huh?”

“Yeah, it was aight.”

Morena laughed. “Girl, you are a horrible liar.”

Black remained silent as he sipped his drink. He was
astonished that the two were getting along so well. He still didn’t
like the idea of Teresa being with James but he couldn’t tell her
that, especially not in front of Morena. He wondered if it was
jealousy. Shaking the thought off, he shifted his position altering
Morena’s. She frowned and nudged Black in his ribs with her
elbow.

“Be still,” Morena complained.

“I am still. Shit. Y’all can carry that in the
house. You killing my vibe with that yammering. Me and Belafonte on
some relaxing shit out here.”

The women looked at one another with their mouths
open in shock then looked to him and laughed. Morena stood, grabbed
the pitcher of daiquiri, and began walking towards the house.
Teresa followed behind still laughing.

“You hear that, girl? Kill his vibe? I keep telling
him he ain’t 19 no more… trying to sound hip. Girl, he is crazy,”
Morena said laughing.

Teresa shook her head thinking the same thing.

Black sat smiling as he watched the two women
disappear. The circumstances behind the three of them being
together was horrible but he had to admit that he liked the way it
felt and he would enjoy it even if it was only temporary. He knew
eventually it would end one way or another.

***

Black awoke with a hangover. His head was banging,
mouth was dry, and stomach was growling. 8 A.M. It was later than
he usually woke up. He rolled over in bed to find that he was lying
alone. He sat up and looked around the room. The bathroom door was
open and the light was off. He grudgingly climbed from bed and went
through his morning regiment of working out; push-ups and sit-ups.
He did a hundred of each in half the time he normally would have
then took a shower and was dressed in record time. Exiting his room
he listened to see if he could hear Morena and Teresa talking. The
house was silent minus the sound of his steps across the carpet.
Pausing at Teresa’s room he looked at his watch. It was almost 9
A.M. Pressing his ear against her door he listened. He was
typically gone by this time so he had no idea what time she got up
and started moving around. After listening for several seconds and
hearing nothing he figured she was either still asleep or gone. He
continued down the stairs and out of the house.

He cruised towards his office in the truck tuning
the dial to channel 126 on Sirius XM’s Urban View station. He
caught the middle of the discussion about the events in Ferguson.
Ferguson Missouri, he thought. The more things change the more they
stay the same. It was going into well over a week of civil unrest
for the small town. Protests had begun after an 18 year old boy was
gunned down by an officer and police moved in military style with
flash grenades and tanks. The guests on the show, politicians and a
former police chief, were giving their perspectives on the
situation. Black half listened as he drove. Thoughts of his own
personal drama in regards to the crooked police filled his head. He
did not care. His faith would not waiver. Although it was fractured
the system was not broken. A fracture can always heal. Things would
get better. He would do his part to see to that. He slammed on his
brakes and they screeched as he came to an abrupt stop. It was too
late. He had gone through a red light causing him to bump into a
man crossing the street. He instinctively looked in his rearview
mirror. Seeing no cars behind him he shifted into park and got out
of the truck. Before he made it to the front of the truck to help
him, the man was back on his feet. Although he walked with a limp
he was moving.

“You alright. Sir?” he asked the man.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Black helped him to the sidewalk. “Don’t I know
you?” He sized the man up trying to recollect where he’d seen him
before.

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“I’m sorry. My mind was someplace else. Can I offer
you a few dollars for the trouble?” Black removed his wallet,
thumbed through some bills, and then pulled out a hundred dollar
bill. He extended it to the man.

The man pushed his hand back. “Yes, you can offer me
two things and cash is not necessarily one of them.”

Black stepped back staring at the stranger
skeptically. “And what would that be, uh…..what’s your name?”

“Brown. Everyone calls me Brown,” the man said as he
extended his hand for a handshake.

Black took the man’s hand into his and shook it
firmly. “Black. Call me Black.”

“No shit, Black?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well I’ll be. Black and Brown. Ain’t we a
pair?”

Black laughed with the homeless man. “Yes, sir, we
are. So tell me what is it that I can do for you?”

“Lunch.”

“Yes! Lunch is on me.” He offered the man the cash
again. “Do whatever you like with the money.”

“No,” Brown said shaking his head. “Me, you… lunch
right now. You treat. Those are the two things you can do for me.
Spring for lunch and do me the honor of some good conversation over
a light meal.”

“I don’t have time for this. This morning I have to
get to work.”

“No time?”

“Sorry.”

“I understand. Enjoy your day counselor and start
paying more attention to them lights.”

Brown began walking in the other direction.

Black watched as he limped away. The dusty old man
hadn’t even taken the money. Black rubbed his hand across his
freshly shaven head. Cars were beginning to line up blowing their
horns impatiently behind his car, waiting to get past as he was
blocking traffic on the one way street. He climbed back into his
truck, shifted in drive, and pulled off. He watched in his rearview
as Brown turned the corner out of his sight. He sped up as he drove
around the corner, down the block, and then turned another corner
before coming to a screeching stop. He smiled as the old man threw
his hands on the hood to brace himself as the truck stopped in
front of him.

“You trying to hit me, boy?” Brown yelled as he
limped towards the driver’s side.

Black rolled the window down. “Get in! Let’s go
eat.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Brown said as he
made his way to the passenger side. He was in and buckled up in
seconds. Black accelerated the gas pedal and they were off.

***

She couldn’t have written a better scenario for a
love story if she wanted to. She wore a low cut white sundress and
no shoes with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. He wore a short
sleeve collared white Banana Republic button up with the top two
buttons left undone. She stole glimpses at the sweat glistening
from his muscular chest. Her eyes roamed down to his white khaki
shorts and strong legs matching his upper body. They walked arm in
arm as he carried her sandals. It was funny how things turned out,
she thought as they walked to the outside dining area at the
Wildcat Creek Winery in Lafayette Indiana. It was an hour’s drive
from Illinois. It was nice what he was doing; getting her away and
taking her mind off of the drama that was going on. She didn’t know
if it was his intention or not but the afternoon was very romantic.
She hadn’t felt this good in a really long time.

The wind blew as the couple sat at the wooden picnic
table underneath the wooden pillars. The smell of freshly mowed
grass made Teresa feel good. The waitress came and James took the
initiative by ordering for the both of them. He ordered two bottles
of wine, choosing the Cayuga White and a bottle of the Prophet's
Rock Red. He also ordered crackers and Camembert and a Burrata
cheese. Teresa smiled as she stared into his eyes from across the
table.

He studied her expression. “What’s funny?” he asked
as he took her hands into his.

He noticed that she didn’t jump this time or pull
away. He started to mention it but didn’t know how she may react
and he didn’t want to ruin the mood.

“Nothing.” She scrunched her shoulders. “Just happy
I suppose.”

He smiled back. “Happy is good.”

She placed her feet on top of his crouch underneath
the table. He instantly became erect. She laughed. “Feels like
someone else is happy as well.”

He smiled sheepishly. “He’s good too.”

She laughed aloud. “Is he now?”

“I ain’t saying a word.”

The waitress returned with their order. The couple
exchanged glances yet neither said a word as she placed their snack
and wine on the table.

“Is there a specific wine you’d prefer to sample
first?” the waitress asked as she pointed at the two bottles placed
on the table.

“Could you open both please and pour one in each
glass?” James asked. “We’ll sample both if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, sir,” she replied as she began
un-corking the bottles and pouring the wine. After both of the
glasses of wine were poured she was off.

The couple slowly sipped their wine. Teresa, with
her feet still in James’s lap, playfully ran her foot up and down
his thigh as she spread Camembert across a cracker. She leaned
across the table and fed it to James. She laughed merrily.

He laughed. “There you go again… that laugh.”

She batted her eyes in a mischievous manner.
“What?”

He laughed again wagging his finger. “Yeah you… what
is it?”

“Nothing… it’s just that you almost took my finger
off when you bit into that cracker. Hungry tail was ‘bout to take
the finger and all.”

He let out a boisterous laugh. “I did not.”

“Shoot… I don’t know, man. Let me count.” She held
up her hand and began counting her fingers. “One, two, three, and
four…and one thumb.”

“There you go,” he said playfully waving her
off.

“Ahh, her hurt him feelings?”

“Quite to the contrary, Ms. Comedian. You have
healed them.”

She smiled back flirtatiously and he took a sip from
his glass. They both became silent as they were enthralled into a
seductive stare down. Teresa found James’ glare so intense that she
was the first to break from the stare. She looked down at the table
feeling her soul shimmer. He did something to her that she didn’t
expect. She’d seen this look before. It was beyond the lustful,
passion filled stare down that she’d gotten from men from the time
she was younger. This look was different. She’d seen it only once
in her life and it came from Black. He loved her. Love, she
thought. She didn’t want to love. Career first, log in some
vacation time and travel to Paris or Greece, get wild… maybe live
out a sexual fantasy or two, then when she met the right man, and
only then, would she fall in love. She knew it was wrong. She
swallowed the saliva that was forming in her mouth, took a sip of
wine, squeezed James’ hands tighter, and then returned her glance
back to his. It was almost too late. She loved him too.

***

Black and his new friend Brown sat in the restaurant
eating. Black ordered a chicken salad while Brown had smothered
chicken, mac and cheese, greens and cornbread. Brown tore into the
food like a wild jackal on a rabbit. Black sipped his iced tea and
ate his salad but not as quickly as Brown rather at a steady pace.
He was mindful that he still needed to get back to the office. He
felt bad about hitting the old man and felt he needed to make
amends.

“What do you want to talk about Brown?” he asked the
older gentleman.

“I don’t know.”

“Well it has to be something.”

“Well…”

“Yeah?”

“I been wanting to know how that lady was
doing.”

“You mean Ms. Prince?” Black asked raising his
eyebrow.

“Is that her name? I just call her ma’am.”

Black sat his fork on the plate, wiped his mouth
with a napkin, and sat it on the table. “How do you know Ms.
Prince?”

“She was always nice to me. One of the only ones
really. She didn’t run me away or turn her nose up at me. We came
here once or twice for lunch. Yeah… she’s a real nice lady. Are you
going to lock them police up that did this to her? I don’t like
police much. A lot of ‘em more crooked than the crooks they lock
up.”