Someone Bad and Something Blue (15 page)

“Wondering what's taking you so long. We need to get ready.”

I ignored her and returned to the ladies. I needed to keep my position and my eyes locked on TT and her girls.

“Hola, Angel. It's been a long time,” TT said. She now stood in front of me, but not too close.

“It has. You look good.” I ribbed Whitney with my elbow, but she wouldn't get the hint.

TT looked past my shoulders and smiled. “Is this your sister?”

I slid my hand past my gun, resting behind my sweatshirt, nestled between the small of my back and my jeans. I didn't want to hurt anyone, but I would shoot anyone who messed with my baby sister.

“Hi,” Whitney said in that sweet and soft voice she reserved for talking to her boyfriend on her cell phone.

“Whitney, call the police,” I whispered between my teeth.

She said nothing.

“It has been a very long time, TT.” I nodded. “Congratulations on the engagement, by the way. You'll be a beautiful blushing bride on your wedding day and I assume these ladies are your bridesmaids?”

Her girlfriends didn't flinch or smile.

TT shrugged. “Something like that.”

“Something like that, huh?” I checked my watch and glanced at Jenn.

She was talking to the crowd at the Q100 Radio tent. I could read her lips even through the crowd. ROTB would begin in sixty seconds.

“So, who's the groom, Tina? Because it can't be Cesar. See, he's already engaged to a two-year stint in Dekalb for a VOP and then a possible five-year commitment with the state pen in Valdosta, Georgia, and you know what that's for.”

Tina backed up. I noticed tears falling from her face. She pointed at me. “Leave me alone, you b—”

The Running of the Brides participants gasped, pulling out cell phones and pointing.

“Everybody relax . . .” I pulled my bounty hunter's badge from underneath my shirt. I kept it on a gold chain now instead of my belt. “I'm—”

“It's the lady bounty hunter!” someone shouted.

I tried to shush the woman, but it was too late. Others saw me and either screamed or cheered. Filene's bell chimed and scared me. I ducked. TT and her crew took off. I watched her sprint and disappear into the wild crowd.

I threw my hands over my hips and huffed. Really?! “I just wanted y'all to help me get a girl a dress.”

No one heard me. Everyone was too busy running past me or running from me.

Whitney grabbed me. “Come on!”

I pulled my grab gloves out of my pockets and slid them onto my hands. “It's not like I have anything else to do.”

 

S
creaming girls fell around me like geese out of formation in an October sky. I lunged over them and kept running. Squealing moms and older women wielded pompons and WeddingWire posters toward the Q100 FM radio personalities who had amused them most of the morning. I couldn't help but laugh, while dodging and zipping past them until a plastic dress cover smacked my nose.

Ow.
I huffed and blinked at the same time. The hit surprised me. Yet I continued running and got slapped again . . . this time with a very large dress containing ridiculous amounts of ribbon that would have tripped me had I not been accustomed to running with unstrung athletic shoes and Bella's toys strewn on the floor.

I then realized I was being ambushed. I flung the dress off my head and saw TT's ride-or-die chicks tossing more taffeta, lace, and silk at me. These girls had to have a softball pitching background, because they hurled those balled-up dresses so fast and hard I almost gave up the chase. Almost.

Despite their efforts they never blinded my view of those pink blond boys racing up the escalator. Those boys weren't getting Lana's dress, so I would not yield. It was on.

My legs and arms pumped harder; my badge pounded and clapped against my chest. It felt great and greatly missed. I zipped and bounded after her toward the top floor.

“Whitney!” I shouted through my earpiece. “These girls are attacking me. I may need a little help, because I'm about to black this chick out and her goon squad, too.”

“It's a madhouse up here, too. But Lark and I can handle these boys in ponytails. Don't do anything that could get us kicked out of here. Lana isn't tough like us. Maybe you should let this thing go with TT.”

I was almost at the top of the escalator.

“If only . . .” I grunted. “I'm coming up.”

TT saw me approaching her and toppled a petite brunette wearing a child's princess tiara at the top of the escalator. I caught my breath. The woman's arms flailed. She began falling backward toward me. I gasped and prayed. I had to reach her before she tumbled down—or worse, injured her anxious-to-be-getting-married flushed face.

I hopped over the terrified woman's crown and caught her. My backside hit the floor and I almost saw stars, but got the bride in time.

I rubbed my butt with my hand. This was getting too dangerous and I had yet to grab one of those pink and black defensive tackles.

The crownless bride hugged me. “You saved my life, Angel.”

I double looked at her. “You know my name?”

“Everyone does.”

I harrumphed and looked a few paces forward. TT was standing still, looking at me. I tried to hop up, but forgot I was pinned.

“Miss, I need you to let me go,” I said to the woman.

“Oops.” She rolled off me, got up, and resumed her quest for the perfect dress.

I watched her run off and buzzed Whitney. “We got any dresses for Lana yet?”

“Why don't you look up and see for yourself,” she grumbled.

I raised my head and saw Whitney waving her hands in the air. I waved back and then I saw something weird. She stood in a corner near the south left wall. Lark and Stacy weren't moving. They were watching something. I followed in the direction of their gaze. TT's friends stood in front of a dress rack, clutching Lana by her chignon.

My heart dropped to my shoes, while my anger flew up to my chest.
Elaine's going to kill me.

“Put one of them on the phone,” I growled. “Actually, put the ugly chick staring at my backside on the phone. I've wanted to give her a piece of my mind for a while now.”

By now most of the crowd was upstairs trading dresses, so the noise had died down.

Since TT and I were still not where the commotion was, I didn't have to shout to her.

I motioned for TT to come over. “Look. I'm not here to bring your boyfriend in. Get over here. I need your help.”

She didn't budge.

“Angel Crawford?” Someone with a Colombian accent spoke through Whitney's phone.

I answered. “Hold on for a minute. I'm talking to your cousin.”

I lowered the phone. “TT, I have your cousin on the phone. Get over here, please.”

TT slowly walked closer. I could tell in her eyes she was one wrong word from sprinting again. But I didn't need that. My plan had gone haywire and I hoped that I hadn't ruined things for Lana.

Once she got close enough to hear my conversation with her cousin, I returned to the call.

“Look, I didn't want your cousin. I wanted you guys to help me get my friend a dress in exchange for my silence that you were in here.”

“What?!” they both asked me.

“Yes, that's what I was trying to tell you before you bolted and yanked my friend.”

“Oh, my bad,” the cousin said.

Tina smiled and raised her hands. “Sorry, Angel. My cousin overreacted.”

“I can see that.” I looked up. She had released Lana, who popped her with a plastic bag. I tried not to chuckle.

“Well, what dress did you need?”

I searched the room until I found the Black and Pink Ponytail Mustache Squad. “I need the dress that gang in the black and pink has in their hands.”

“You don't care how we get it?” she asked.

“No violence, just a fair trade,” I said. “Give them something nice.”

Tina now stood at my side. I guess she thought we were friends now.

“What is it about these dang wedding dresses?” I asked her.

She shrugged. “Every girl dreams of a princess wedding. You know?”

“Not really, but my sisters seem to.” I sighed. “Yet I'm curious. Why would you come here with all these TV cameras around to get a wedding dress? Does Cesar know you're here?”

“He dropped me off,” she said matter of factly.

I nodded and tried to ease my nose itch. My objective right now was to make sure the girls were safe and to get Lana through the checkout line with that dress. But soon after all was well, I was going to take those chica divas down. The only problem I had was trying to contact Tiger. He still wasn't the best about showing up on time, although he'd just promised me he would do better. Maybe I should just give them to the police. That way I'd keep my word about not taking her in.

“So when were you two tying the knot?” I asked.

“Next week.”

“How? You can't get married without a license. Cesar has a few warrants out for his arrest.”

“We got the license in Atlanta before he had any warrants there. Doesn't matter, though. They're too backlogged to search for Cesar. Besides, the jail is overcrowded and they had budget cuts on the police force.”

“Seems like y'all have become pros at being outlaws.”

“Well, Cesar never had a green card, so . . .”

Are they kidding me right now?
I looked around me, to see if I was really standing here listening to this crap.

Whitney whispered through my earpiece, “We're coming down with the dress.”

“Okay,” I said, as I saw them gliding down the escalator.

I felt for my handcuffs. I still couldn't determine which one would get arrested, TT or the cousin. Then I saw one of the guys from the Black and Pink Ponytail Mustache Gang. He had a black eye.

I shook my head. “TT, I told your cousin no violence.”

She turned around. “I told you my cousin overreacts.”

I spotted the crazy cousin and marched toward her. She was carrying the Amsale dress, I assumed for collateral. “Why did you hit that man?”

“He didn't want to give up the dress.”

“That's not what I told you to do.”

“Don't worry about it. He's okay.” She waved me off.

“It's not okay and that was not our agreement.”

She frowned. “So what? Are you going to take it back now, because of that?”

“Nope. My word is my bond. I said I would not take TT in.” I slid my phone out my pocket and dialed the Atlanta police.

“Then what's the problem?”

I motioned for her to hold on until I placed my call. “Yes, this is Angel Crawford reporting a 240 at the ROTB Filene's Basement.”

“No, you didn't.” The girl lunged at me.

I bobbed out of her reach.

Tina pushed me. I slid the phone back into my pocket.

She shouted, “You said you were letting me go.”

“I'm letting
you
go, but your cousin . . . She pissed me off by dragging my girlfriends into this foolishness.”

“You should have never brought them along on your stakeout.”

“Trick, we're shopping for wedding dresses!” I shouted. “Who in their right mind would come here to look for FTAs. Are you stupid? You gotta be out of your freakin' mind!”

“Look,” the cousin said. “We got you what you wanted. Just let us go.”

“But you had your hands in my little play sister's head instead.”

My temper bubbled up at the thought of those girls roughhousing Lana. I snatched the girl and threw her on the floor. Whitney and the girls got into the fray. I think I heard someone scream.

Filene's security guard ran over to me and pulled me off the cousin.

I yanked the dress out of her hand. “Do you know how long I have staked out this place for that dress in your quick-to-fight hands? Do you know how much money your dumb-as-dirt cousin owes my boss?”

“Ma'am, let the woman and the dress go,” one of the guards said to me. They were plain clothed, but revealed tasers on their waists just like mine.

I raised my badge toward them. “It's fine, gentlemen. I already called APD. This woman assaulted one of your patrons and the other is wanted for aiding a convicted criminal. I'm licensed in the county to bring her in; believe me, I'm doing you a big favor. Besides, boys, I can take a tase.”

“Perhaps, ma'am. But according to our dispatch, you didn't alert us to the fact that you were about to make an arrest,” some man said from behind me.

I turned around. Two of Atlanta's Finest stared back at me.

“It's about time you got here,” I huffed.

“Don't look too happy. Looks like we're going to have to take you in, too. You know the law.”

In Fulton County bail recovery agents had to alert the county sheriff's office when we were about to apprehend a failure to appear (FTA). However, I hadn't intended to take in TT. I'd just wanted her to help me roughhouse those guys into getting that Amsale gown. Somehow my plan didn't quite jell, but I wasn't going to jail for it.

I couldn't tell which one had just spoken to me, so I addressed them both. “I didn't know a jumper would be here shopping for a wedding dress. Come on, guys. That's not fair.”

“Do you think it was fair to cause pandemonium in here? You almost started a riot,” the younger one said.

I squinted at his badge. His name was Floyd, Officer Floyd. He looked like a Floyd, too, thin, long neck, red haired, freckle faced, and a button nose to complement his rosy cheeks. He was adorable, if you were into snarky Buckhead cops. Real talk. I used to be, ten years back. Now . . . huh uh.

“Pandemonium? For real? You just said that?” I chuckled, while one of the guards came toward me with handcuffs. “I asked Jane over there to call you, but as usual you guys are late. So what was I supposed to do, let the felon waltz out of here with a dress? Really?”

“Disruption of property, Miss Crawford.” Officer Floyd gritted his teeth. “Your pandemonium equates to disruption of property in this county.”

“Disruption of property?” I looked around us. Pompons and fake flowers were strung all over the place, taffeta and lace still falling from the ceiling. “Officer, which part of The Running of the Brides frenzy are you going to pin on me?”

Floyd grunted. “Don't start—”

“Excuse me?” I heard a woman's soft voice surface above my conversation with Officers Jacobson and Floyd. “May I chime in?”

“Ma'am, this is police business. Please go on about your way,” Officer Jacobson said.

I knew his name was Jacobson because we had met before. I hoped he remembered.

“Angel shouldn't be arrested,” the woman said. “She saved me from being thrown off the escalator by that woman.” She pointed at Tara Tina. “Who knows what that woman would have done next? And she's not alone. Her friends terrorized Angel's family. She had a right to protect them.”

Other women who were hovering around nodded in agreement. Some applauded.

Officer Jacobson waved his hands. “Ladies, please let us do our job.”

“Let Angel go.” They began to chant. “Let. Angel. Go.”

Their voices grew louder. This shouting went on for about thirty seconds until the store manager, who was being questioned by another officer during my interrogation, walked over to where we were.

“Actually, gentlemen, we don't want to press charges. Nothing was damaged. We just need to clean this up fast. Brides are still arriving to purchase gowns. Your police cars and presence may scare them off.”

“That's fine,” Officer Jacobson said. “But unfortunately, Angel, you'll have to come with us.”

My chest tightened. “What did you say?”

“Captain's orders,” he said.

A scream pierced the air. We all looked in the direction of the wailing. It was Stacy Albright. She was on the ground holding her leg. Whitney was consoling her.