Between Friends (25 page)

Read Between Friends Online

Authors: D. L. Sparks

Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #General, #African American Police, #Urban Life, #Thrillers, #African American

BOOK: Between Friends
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Chapter Thirty-two
Idalis
“India, just let it go.”
I tried my best to get comfortable on the couch in my mother's living-room. Cameron was laying on my chest sleep and his body was generating heat and making me uncomfortable. There were boxes of things stacked in the hall and in the corners of the small room. My life had been reduced to what was in those boxes, or rather, what the Feds let me take out of the house.
The investigation into Lincoln prompted them to seize a lot of things, including our home and my club. Luckily, my car was in my name and I had proof that I was making payments out of my own account, or they would've taken that too. Thanks to a good attorney and a word from Trip, I wasn't held accountable for anything that he'd done. But that didn't help the fact that I was now one of the many homeless people in Atlanta.
“Look, I know he's still here.”
I rolled my eyes and looked up at her. “You know this how?”
“Dionne told me. She saw him at the J.R. Crickets, the one off Camp Creek. Phil got out of the hospital last week.”
“And what does that mean? He's here and hasn't called me, so why should I call him?”
She put her hands on her hips. “You can't be serious. After what you did? After what Lincoln's crazy ass did? Hell, I can almost see why he is staying away from you.”
After getting his gunshot wound treated, Lincoln was discharged into police custody almost three weeks ago. He'd been calling asking me to come by the hospital and see him, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Plus Dionne and India had threatened my life if I went anywhere near him. Once he got booked into the jail someone slipped him a cell phone, which was making it easy for him to aggravate the hell out of me. While he waited for trial, the threatening calls started coming and I knew that until he was tried, he was gonna make my life miserable. And the fact that he was in isolation gave him plenty of time to make all the calls he wanted. I threatened to report that he had a phone, but he just laughed and told me that he'd fuck another female CO and have another cell phone before the charge hit his file.
“Look, I understand where you're coming from. Just give me some time.”
“Time for what? You've had long enough. And now that what you've been unsure about all these years is confirmed you just wanna sit on your ass and do nothing.”
“Just because he knows doesn't change anything. I'm sure all he cares about is going back to New Orleans and putting this behind him.”
“How do you know that, if you haven't talked to him? And what about Cameron? You're being selfish, Idalis.”
“Whatever, India.”
“Did you see him when you went to take the paternity test?”
I shook my head.
“No. He had already done his part and left before Cameron and I got there.”
Trip wasted no time pulling strings and dumping court papers into my lap requesting his own set of paternity tests be done. I guess he needed to see it in black and white on his own terms. So I took my baby downtown and let them swab his cheek and mine. I told him that the test was so Santa could make sure he was the real Cameron. He just giggled and went along with the test without a problem.
She sucked her teeth. “So what now? Y'all just gonna avoid each other altogether? That's real smart.”
I rolled my eyes. “What are you gonna do? Tell on me?” I shifted on the couch, trying not to wake Cameron. “Take Cam upstairs for me and go away, India.”
I didn't need to look at her face to know she was pissed. She scooped my baby up off my chest and the next sound I heard was the front door opening as I rolled over and started flipping channels.
A few minutes later I heard the door open and close again and India appeared in the doorway to the living-room.
“India, I'm not in the mood to argue with you. Would you please ...”
I looked up and the expression she had on her face was disturbing. She stood there, holding a certified letter in her hand. “Idalis, the mailman just came. This is for you.”
I sat up and stared at the certified letter she was holding.
She asked, “Do you want me to open it?”
I nodded absentmindedly, then watched as she ripped into the paper and pulled out the wad of thick documents.
I couldn't even bring myself to look at them, so I stood up and walked to the entertainment center. I focused on a picture of Cameron, willed that envelope and its contents spontaneously combust in her hands. I turned around and watched as my sister's eyes scanned the document.
“Just spit it out.”
She took a deep breath and spoke. “There's a court date set for two weeks from today. He's asking for joint custody.”
I let out a sigh.
The acknowledgment of paternity was just to put it on paper, make it legal in the eyes of everyone involved; custody was a sucker punch to me. I wanted to call and cuss him out, but I couldn't, because he was right, and I was wrong.
India flipped through a few more pages. “It says here that he is willing to come to an agreement out of court with a mediator. But if you aren't willing to sit down with him and talk, he is going to go forward with the suit.”
“He's just doing this because he's mad.”
She tossed the papers onto the couch. “Don't even get me started on that.”
“You made it perfectly clear that you are on his side.”
“It's not about sides but”—she motioned toward the papers—“this is not going to go away.”
“Obviously.”
I sank down on the couch and closed my eyes. I had played the scenario, over and over again, in my head; only in my version it involved him being loving and understanding.
Guess he didn't get his copy of the script.
I let out a low groan and made a wish, just in case there was a fairy godmother, whom I couldn't see, lurking around.
India asked, “What?”
I stood up. “Nothing.”
My sister hugged me and promised that she would be there for me, no matter what. But that didn't make me feel better.
“Are you going to be okay?” she asked.
“Yeah. I need to go check on Cameron.”
“I'll go. I'm going upstairs, anyway, to check on Mama. She told me to put him in bed with her.”
I managed a weak smile. “Thank you.”
After she left, I sat there and tried to rationalize what he'd done. The fact that he hadn't called was overshadowing a lot of things for me right now. I knew he had a right to Cameron; I had psyched myself out all of these years and just couldn't seem to see that as a reality.
I picked up the small stack of papers. My eyes scanned the court document, but I didn't read it.
I couldn't.
I wanted the words to evaporate like they had been written with disappearing ink. I knew Trip well enough to know that this wasn't him being vindictive.
This was Trip trying to get my attention.
 
Two weeks later, India and I sat on one of the wooden benches that lined the wall of the long hall of the Charles L. Carnes Justice Center. Trip had pulled some favors and had gotten the court date pushed through. The way I figured: the sooner we addressed it, the sooner we could both move on with our lives. India insisted on coming with me, and I told her the only way she could was if she promised not to make a scene.
The air was buzzing with people coming and going—some with lawyers, quite a few without. Our mediator had already come out and acknowledged we were there. There was still no sign of Trip, though.
I checked my watch.
It was nine forty-five.
“There he is,” India said, nudging me with her elbow.
I looked up and saw him walking toward us.
His locs were neatly pulled back and he wasn't in his usual black DEA tee and jean. He was in a black Hugo Boss suit that looked like it was cut just for him and the smell of his Burberry cologne swirled around making my head spin.
My heart began beating in my chest, and my palms got sweaty. I slid my hand out of India's and stood up.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” I responded.
“Look, this doesn't have to be a tense situation,” Trip said. “I think we've had enough of them.”
“I agree.”
I glanced up the hall and saw the mediator heading toward us.
“Here she comes,” I said.
During the mediation India remained quiet, which I appreciated. I didn't want to piss off Trip any more than he already was. The results of the paternity test were read again, more for the sake of the court records than anything: 99.9 percent conclusive.
Hearing it read by the mediator didn't lessen the impact of what I had done. I watched Trip's body tense and then relax as the words floated around the room then settled into everyone's world for good. As if he was no longer fighting against it.
Over the next two hours, we hammered out an agreement of one weekend a month in which Trip agreed to travel to Atlanta, and one week in the summer whereby I would travel to Louisiana. India damn near choked on her gum when that one was brought up. The court reporter actually had to get her some water.
When it came time to talk about child support, Trip was very generous.
“Whatever she needs,” he said, looking at me. For some reason there was sadness in his eyes, like something inside of him had died.
“The fifteen hundred a month we agreed to is more than enough,” I said.
The mediator looked at me. “Are you petitioning for back support?”
“No.”
Trip said, “I have no problem providing it.”
“That's okay. I'm fine,” I said.
The mediator spoke again. “What about insurance? Who will carry that?”
We both answered at the same time, “I will.”
“No,” Trip responded. “He's my son. He goes on my insurance.”
After going through another half hour of legal mumbo jumbo, we finally signed our preliminary agreement. The mediator hastily collected our paperwork before informing us that nothing would be final until the judge reviewed it and signed off on it.
“If he has any questions or problems, don't be surprised if you are called into court,” she said matter-of-factly.
After dropping that little piece of information, the tall, thin white woman disappeared into the hall. She was probably off to referee another battle of the sexes.
Once back in the hallway, we all stood around and waited to see who would speak first.
Trip locked eyes with me.
India's cell rang, getting our attention.
I turned for a brief moment and watched as she fumbled trying to get her phone out of her purse.
When I looked back ...
Trip was gone.
Chapter Thirty-three
Trip
“You got everything?”
I scanned the hotel room where my partner had been recovering ever since he'd been released from the hospital. Other than the flowers and the get-well wishes that were left lining the walls, it looked like he was about as ready to go as I was.
“Yeah. I can't wait to sleep in my own bed.”
I threw his laptop bag over my shoulder. “Yeah, but you gotta admit, it was nice staying here on the department's dime.”
He smiled. “You damn right. Wait until they see that room service bill.”
I laughed as he pulled a Snickers outta nowhere and took a bite. “I see some things never change.”
“You know me.”
We headed out and down the hall toward the elevator. I could tell by the way he was acting that he wanted to say something, but he probably didn't want to piss me off.
“What?” I questioned.
He looked at me like he didn't know what I was talking about.
“Just spit it out, Phil.”
He opened the door to the truck and climbed in. “Okay, but you're not gonna like what I have to say.”
I hopped in and closed my door. “When have I ever liked what you had to say?”
“True.”
I watched for a second as he got situated in the truck. I could tell from his guarded movements that he was still in some pain. I waited until he seemed comfortable before I cranked up the truck and pulled out of the circular drive of the hotel.
“I'm listening,” I prodded.
“I just think that you're going about this all wrong. You think dragging her into court like that yesterday was the right thing to do?”
“What? You don't?”
“I just think maybe she's been through a lot and could use some understanding and support, especially now. I mean her grandmother dies, Linc nuts the fuck up on her all around the same time. That's a lot.”
I looked over at him, wanted to be mad at his reasoning, but couldn't. I made sure that she wasn't implicated in anything that Lincoln had been involved in. During his arraignment he didn't have a regretful bone in his body. The whole time I wanted to smack the smirk off his face every time I thought about how he destroyed her world.
“You're probably right. I acted on impulse. I probably should've talked to her first,” I agreed.
He continued recounting his observations. “Look, I'm not condoning what she did, but put yourself in her shoes. Look at what the fuck she was dealing with. She was scared and probably in denial.”
“Yeah.”
“And I'ma be honest—you and your fucked up attitude probably didn't help.”
“What?” I frowned at him. “My fucked-up attitude?”
“Hell yeah. You ain't give that girl much of an alternative.” Phil shook his head. “And now you just blew her spot up and are about to leave her to pick up the pieces. Just like that punk-ass Lincoln did.”
I turned my attention out the window for a second. I merged onto I-20 and sped toward my mother's house. Phil and I were going to sleep there tonight and then I was going to take him to the airport in the morning. “I don't know what I'm gonna do to be honest with you,” I finally said.
“Look, you know you my boy,” he said, “but ... it's time for you to knock that chip off your shoulder.”
“I don't have a chip on my shoulder,” I countered.
“Yes you do, man. When you came to the NOLA division fresh off some emotional shit, I told Lenny you were gonna be a problem. But you got good instincts and you made it work.
“But take a look at all the bodies you been leaving in your wake. You can't just leave her like this, man. You walked away from Camille after that miscarriage like it didn't bother you at all, when I know it did. It's time to stop running, man.
“And if you don't do it for yourself, or your mom, do it for your son. He didn't ask for any of this. You about to let the ghost of your dead father keep you from actually having a normal life. That's crazy.”
I looked over at him and shook my head, laughing. “Damn. Getting shot made you deep.”
He laughed. “Nah, getting shot made me realize that life is short. And opening my eyes and seeing Lenny standing over me fucked up my head.” His large frame shook with laughter. “I would've much rather had a woman, preferably my wife, holding my hand. Not his grumpy ass.”
I couldn't help but laugh at that. “Yeah, that's enough to snap any playa outta some shit.”
He rubbed his goatee. “Matter of fact, is your sister single?”
“Fuck you, Phil.”
He laughed. “I'm just fucking with you. But you know with Atlanta's police force in shambles, they gon' need some Supercops like us to put it back together.”
I smiled and looked over at my partner. “You lovin' Atlanta, huh?”
“Atlanta's lovin' me,” he said, smiling back.
I nodded. “That's what's up.”
Once we got to my mother's house, I got Phil situated in my old room, away from my sister, before I headed in the living-room and took a seat across from my sister on the loveseat.
“Trip you can't do her like this,” she said, staring at me with a pitiful look on her face.
I took a drink from the bottle of water I had in my hand. “I'm not doing anything to her. This is a lot to try to deal with.”
“And you think being in New Orleans is gonna make it any easier to deal with? Trip that's your
son
. My nephew. And don't even get me started on Mama. She is fit to be tied, she can't wait to get her hands on that baby,” she guilted.
“Come on Trin—”
She stood up and started pacing the living-room floor.
“No Trip! First of all, I'm still pissed at you for sleeping with her and not telling me. Second of all,
I told
you that you should've never left after daddy's funeral!”
I sat there stunned, with my mouth hanging open. “So this is ... my fault?”
“You damn right!” She plopped back down on the sofa. “If you would've just stayed none of this would've happened. I know Idalis, when she found out she was pregnant she would've came to you Trip and you
know
it.”
I let out a hard sigh. “I know. So now what?”
“You need to talk to her. No lawyers, mediators. Just you and her. As scary as it may be for you right now, you have to talk to her.” She smiled. “And if you don't I'm telling mommy on you.”
I couldn't help but laugh a little. “I never thought I'd be getting advice from you.”
“I knew it wouldn't be long before you realized how brilliant I really am.”
I stood up and headed in the kitchen. “I wouldn't say all that.”
“So tell me something,” she said.
I tossed my empty water bottle into the trash. “What's up?”
“Does Phil have a girlfriend?”
I checked my watch and headed toward the front door. “Bye, Trin. I'll be back.”
“I mean, I'm just askin'. Are you listening to me? Where are you going?”
“I have something I need to take care of. And yes”—I winked at her—“I always listen to you. Tell Mama I'll be back in a few, and see if Phil needs anything, other than a girlfriend.”
“Trip!” she called to my back.
“I'll be back.”

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