Devilish Details (4 page)

Jazz shifted on the stool, uneasy with the
emotional drift of their conversation. As a child she fought
leaving Vivienne, which was against all logic since their mother
cared way more about herself than anyone. Mama Ruby tried, but Jazz
rebelled and ran away to Houston, Texas at fifteen. She’d found
Vivienne, and a whole new education in hard knocks. Still there was
no going back. Jazz had grown up too fast to be mothered Mama Ruby
style. When Jazz accepted that Vivienne would never offer any kind
of warmth or refuge, she’d hit the road on her own at sixteen.

With a sly smile, Jazz changed the subject.
“Since you’re here for me, how’s about the 411 on two dudes, name
of Brandon Wilks and Cleavon Bennett.”

Willa dropped her fork leaving half the cake
on her plate. “I just
knew
you were in some kind of trouble.
One dead drug dealer and another one on the run. The police are
looking for Bennett, but they think he’s-- Wait a minute, tell me
what you’ve done first.”

“Nothing, I swear.” Jazz hissed a sigh. “The
police came out claiming neighbors had complained about noise.
Okay, some customers did get rowdy on the parking lot. Some dude’s
wife showed up mad about his being at the club. Then his side woman
showed up, too. The wife went off. The guy’s friends tried to calm
things down, but it didn’t work.”

“You left off the part about the drugs,”
Willa cracked and arched her perfect eyebrows.

“Two customers had several ounces of weed,
one had warrants. The usual stuff.” Jazz dug into her cake. “Hey,
this is good.”

“The dead dealer, Jazz?” Willa poked Jazz’s
arm with a forefinger.

“Yeah, yeah. So the cops are interrogating
my innocent customers and using the bad apples as an excuse to
search my place. Addison shows up while I’m outside. Acts like he
was just in the neighborhood. I didn’t buy it.” Jazz savored
another piece of cake. The butter cream icing melted on her tongue.
“Hmm, umph.”

Willa pursed her lips for a moment before
she spoke. “You know Brandon Wilks and Cleavon Bennett?”

“Nah, not really. I know his triflin’
girlfriend with her lyin’ ass self. You met her a couple of times.
Kyeisha Lathers,” Jazz replied and twisted her lips as if tasting
something sour.

“The same Kyeisha that you slapped so hard
her earrings came out, that Kyeisha? Good Lord, Jazz. Please tell
me you didn’t have a beef with her boyfriend, too. You can’t be
going around beating up people you don’t like,” Willa lectured.

“That no good heffa called the city on me
twice and the health inspectors four times, her and that lowdown
Lorraine. They wanted to ruin my business all because I snapped up
a good deal on Candy Girls. Not my fault Lorraine wouldn’t pay her
property and business taxes,” Jazz scowled at her sister.

“I’ll ask again, did you get into it with
her boyfriend? I mean there’s got to be a reason Addison came
looking for you.”

“The answer is no, I didn’t get into it with
Cleavon. I only met him two or three times. Hardly said more than
hello to the dude.” Jazz finished her cake while Willa sat in
thought for several moments. “So what did you find out?”

“Cleavon has the usual small time thug
profile. He’s been arrested twice for domestic battery, possession
of weed, and four times for theft. So far, nothing major, not that
what he’s been picked up for isn’t bad enough,” Willa said with a
frown.

“He’s done worse, but the police haven’t
caught him yet,” Jazz added.

“Good point. Or he had more serious charges
that got plead down, or the district attorney’s office didn’t have
enough evidence.”

“Well I’m betting they won’t have that
problem this go round, which is why he’s hiding out. Claiming
self-defense to protect your dope won’t impress the judge or a
jury,” Jazz said with a laugh.

“Unless...” Willa drummed the granite
countertop with her fingertips as she thought.

“What? You know something,” Jazz said and
slapped Willa’s shoulder lightly to get her attention.

“Cleavon seems to get a new
Get-Out-Of-Jail-Card a lot. Cedric’s theory is he’s giving up some
people. Not that Cedric knows anything solid.” Willa shrugged when
Jazz looked skeptical. “I know it’s not much.”

“Look, jails stay full. I know at least ten
dudes and girls that have records like Cleavon. They go in, get
out. Get picked up for one charge, do a plea to a lesser charge. It
happens,” Jazz replied. She got up and poured herself a cup of
coffee from the coffee pot.

“You need a new set of friends, Jazz,” Willa
retorted.

Jazz spooned sugar into the coffee and came
back to sit again. “Whatever. I’m just sayin’. The streets don’t
automatically think ‘snitch’ just cuz somebody is in and out of
jail. Please tell me Kyeisha is in trouble, too.”

“She got out on bond, but even though she
was in the house with drugs, Cedric’s source doesn’t think she’ll
be charged. She’s gone underground, too,” Willa said and nodded
when Jazz’s eyebrows shot up.

“You think she’s helping Cleavon hide? That
would be a stupid move. Oh wait, I forgot. Kyeisha got there late
when they were passing out smarts,” Jazz wisecracked.

“Helping Cleavon hide will make her an
accessory.” Willa stopped talking when Mikayla came into the
kitchen.

“Hmm, I just came to see what y’all doing.”
Mikayla sidled up to her mother and placed an arm around Willa’s
waist.

Willa kissed the top of her thick, curly
hair. “We’re talking. Go help Anthony serve Mama Ruby and
them.”

“He already did. You look so pretty, Auntie
Jazz.” Mikayla flashed a smile at Jazz.

“Thank you, short and beautiful. Are you
still amazing your teachers at that fancy private school?”

“No, ma’am. I go to Cedarcrest now. It’s
pretty okay for a public school.” Mikayla wrinkled her nose as if a
bad smell had seeped in.

“Go on back to the living room,” Willa said
firmly, avoiding Jazz’s look.

Mikayla took a deep breath to launch into a
rebuttal. “But--”

“Your grandparents don’t get to see you as
often as when you were little.
Go
.” Willa pointed toward the
living room.

“Yes ma’am.” Mikayla gave Jazz a sad look
and then walked out with heavy steps. “But I don’t get to see
Auntie Jazz either, and she’s stuck in here.”

“We’ll be there in a minute,” Willa shot
back, still pointing. Once she was gone, Willa turned her focus
back to Jazz.

“Mikayla don’t wanna listen to boring church
talk or about your Aunt Beryl’s flower garden,” Jazz joked and
sipped more coffee.

Willa laughed. “Yes, I wouldn’t be surprised
if she decides to become a private investigator. She loves snooping
around. Speaking of which, I’m sure you’ve done some street level
research.”

“I didn’t learn much more than what you’ve
told me. Cleavon has a mean streak and a bad temper. Much as I
despise Kyeisha, I hate guys who beat up women even more. Lucky for
him nobody mentioned him being a snitch. If they did, Cleavon would
have a lot more to worry about than getting arrested.”

“But that could be another reason he’s
running, Jazz. Think about it. If he gets caught on this serious
charge and takes a deal folks might start going, ‘Hmmm’.” Willa
finished up her slice of cake.

“Okay, that makes sense. I still don’t get
why Addison would come to Candy Girls behind Cleavon or even me
knowing Kyeisha. My gut is telling there’s more. And I hate
surprises.” Jazz sighed. “Well maybe with Kyeisha having her own
problems, she’ll stop messin’ with me. I’ve got half a mind to pay
Lorraine a little visit.”

“Jazz...”

“I’m not going to beat up the woman, unless
she swings on me first,” Jazz added. She laughed at Willa’s
dramatic groan in reaction.

“Don’t call me if you end up in the city
jail,” Willa blurted out. “Seriously, Jazz, think about changing
your life. Mikayla and Anthony would love to see more of you. If
you had a nice, quiet business they could visit...”

“I’m not trying to be a bourgie role model.
That’s
your
job and their Black American Princess pretend
aunt. I’m surprised MiMi isn’t here by the way,” Jazz said.

“She’s having dinner with her parents.”
Willa grinned when Jazz looked at her in surprise. “Yeah, I know.
I’m sure we’re going to get some good gossip.”

“Damn, those fancy rich people fight more
than the fools in the hood. What is up with that?” Jazz eyed the
red velvet cake, considered a second slice, and then resisted.

“Much as she runs her mouth, MiMi doesn’t go
into detail about her family business. She just keeps saying
they’re ‘very dysfunctional’.. She keeps her visits few and spaced
out. Says it’s just too toxic for the baby.” Willa got up with the
two empty plates. “Sure you don’t want more cake? I saw you staring
at it.”

“No, thanks. I stuffed myself on fried fish
last night. Got to watch the meals even though I’m not dancing
these days. I’ve got plans,” Jazz replied.

Willa spun around in the act of rinsing a
plate. “You mean performing?”

“Don’t look all scandalized. No, I’m not
going on the pole again. But I’d like a bigger and better version
of Candy Girls. If I’m going to offer quality adult nightlife I
need to look the part for marketing purposes. My business advisors
say it makes a difference.” Jazz smiled.

“Quality adult nightlife,” Willa echoed. She
finished rinsing the plates and dried them. “I see.”

“Relax. I’m not talking about live porno
shows or anything. I want a larger club with some of the top bands
in the region. Another section will be a Chinese restaurant and of
course lounge area.” Jazz nodded when Willa turned around again to
gape at her.

“Chinese food?”

“You know my waitress Chyna, right? Well I
didn’t just hire her to sling drinks. When I interviewed her she
talked about having worked in her grandmother’s takeout place. That
was before she fell out with her parents. But I’m going to help her
make up with them.” Jazz bounced one boot covered foot as she
talked.

“You’ve always got a Plan B all right,”
Willa said.

Jazz grinned at the trace of admiration in
her big sister’s voice. “Plans B, C, D and E, girl.”

“Always thinking.” Willa leaned against the
counter.

“We were born poor, Black, and female. Toss
in a mother like Vivienne and the one thing I learned is help ain’t
comin’. You got to learn how to make it.” Jazz stopped smiling.

“Since you mentioned our mama, have you
talked to her lately?” Willa asked.

“No.”

Willa walked back and sat down again. “Me
neither.”

“Hey, that’s some fancy silver coffee server
you got. Years ago Vivienne gave me one like it, but it’s got more
pieces. Well, she left it when she took off. Running from a bad
check charge,” Jazz added with a snort.

“Be sure it’s not stolen goods,” Willa put
in.

“Shoot, I’m sure that silver is stolen
goods. She snatched it from some rich family she was working for
years ago. I’m betting that the statute of limitations has run
out,” Jazz quipped.

“That’s so not funny, the memories we have
of our mother,” Willa said as she struggled to keep a frown on her
face. Then they both burst into laughter.

Jazz spoke when she could breathe. “Whew, at
least she’s good for a laugh every now and then. So, can you keep
checking for me?”

Willa dabbed at her eyes with a paper napkin
and nodded. Then she looked at Jazz. “You’re not keeping anything
from me are you? Wait, I don’t know why I’m asking. Of course you
are.”

“No, I wouldn’t hold out on you.” Jazz gave
her a wide-eyed expression of innocence. “Seriously, I didn’t find
out anything else. You know I only keep stuff from you to avoid
those lectures and to keep y’all out of danger.” She waved a hand
toward the sound of family enjoying each other’s company.

“Uh-huh. Or so I won’t blow a hole in one of
your crazy schemes,” Willa retorted. “I’ll keep looking for another
week.”

“Girl, thanks a lot. I owe you on this for
real,” Jazz cut her off before one of those lectures started.

Willa pointed a finger at Jazz. “If you have
anything to do with those thugs or that murder--”

“Mama, everybody wants more cake and ice
cream,” Mikayla sang out as she bounced into the kitchen. She
skidded to a halt as her little snoop sensors picked up something
more interesting. “What’s going on?”

“You’re right on time, Kay-Kay. We were just
sayin’ we should ask if anybody wanted more cake or coffee. Right,
sis?” Jazz glanced at Willa with a grin.

“Sure. I already made slices,” Willa said
with a squint at Jazz.

Anthony and Papa Elton bustled in soon
after, engaged in a loud debate over sports. Willa’s mother and
aunts soon followed. The kitchen overflowed with family chatter as
everyone joined in. The warmth didn’t come from the oven or stove.
Mama Ruby teased Aunt Beryl about her latest boyfriend. The
youngest at fifty-eight, Beryl was the only single sister. Pearl,
the fourth sister, lived with her second husband in Atlanta. Aunt
Beryl took their ribbing with good humor. Papa Elton admonished
them to lay off Beryl in between arguing with Anthony, and playing
with Mikayla. Willa joined in at times, but kept an eye on Jazz.
“You better not be messing around with more gangsters. I’m not
visiting you in jail
again
,” Willa hissed low so the others
wouldn’t hear.

“Don’t worry, girl. I’m being my usual
careful self,” Jazz whispered back. She giggled at the heated glare
Willa gave her in response.

Chapter 3

The next morning Jazz sat in her living room
with her feet up on the sofa, smoking and reading. She’d converted
the half story upstairs space in a small building behind the club
into a living area. A stone path from the sidewalk ran along the
west side of her building. The path ended at the stairway that
ended at her small porch. Although at first Jazz had seen it as a
step down, living on the property hadn’t been so bad after all.
Plus she was saving money on rent. She was about to start making
notes on the pad in her lap when the doorbell chimed. She stabbed
her cigarillo out and stomped to the door.