Philadelphia (10 page)

She watched him turn the corner, waited a minute to make sure he wouldn't return for any reason, and then she called a cab to take her home.

On the cab ride home, Billie reflected on her night. She was confused. There was a part of the night when she was genuinely enjoying herself. She wasn't acting. Was it the alcohol? She didn't know, but in order for her to stay on task, she needed to blame it on the alcohol.

The next morning Billie woke to her ringing phone. Her headache reminded her of all the wine she had consumed the previous night. Her cottonmouth was telling her to ignore the phone and get a glass of water.

“Hello.” Her voice sounded like she had swallowed razor blades.

“Did I wake you?” Walter asked.

“Yes.” She cleared her throat as she grudgingly got out of bed and poured a glass of water from the bottle she kept on her nightstand.

“Billie, what's going on? You quit your job?” He sounded concerned.

Billie thirstily gulped the entire glass of water. “I didn't quit. I took a leave of absence.”

“Why?”

“I just need some time to myself.” She went for the bottle again to pour herself another glass.

“Well, let me see you tonight. I want to talk about this.”

Billie hesitated, the water bottle in her hand, but she figured she was going to have to talk to him about it sooner or later.
Might as well make it sooner.

“What time?” She continued pouring.

“I'll pick you up at eight.”

“All right. See you then.” She hung up and drank her second glass of water.

She started to prepare herself some breakfast, then decided there was no reason for her to stay up. She stopped what she was doing and went back to bed to sleep off her wine headache.

 

 

She woke around noon feeling much better. Now instead of a headache she had a growling stomach screaming for food. Billie entered her kitchen and finished the breakfast she had started preparing earlier. Some fresh fruit, yogurt, and whole wheat toast satisfied her grumpy stomach.

Billie sat at her kitchen table, sipping her tea while she read the local newspaper. She almost spit her tea out when she saw the article on page six. It told the story of the discovery of a body along the river. It said that it appeared to be a murder and there were definite signs of a struggle. It said police were investigating many possibilities, including one that it could have been a clandestine sex meeting gone wrong. Billie figured they might have thought that because his pants were down when she killed him. She read the article a second time looking for signs that she might be a suspect. Still not comfortable after reading it again, she called Walter to see if she could pump him for information.

“Hey. What's up?” he answered.

“Nothing. Just wondering what we are doing tonight so I know what to wear.”

“Figured we could go to Tessie's.”

“Good. Casual. Hey, I read an article about that body found along the river. You assigned that case?”

“No, pretty gruesome though.”

“Yeah. What are they thinking happened?”

“Probably some gay hookup gone bad. Anyway, I gotta go. I'm investigating two other murders. Get this, it's the same two guys suspected of shooting up that nightclub the other night. I'll see you at eight.”

“See you.” She hung up. Billie was relieved to know she wasn't a suspect at this time.

 

 

Billie was putting the finishing touches on her makeup when Walter rang her bell. She quickly applied the rest of her lipstick then went and answered the door. The second she opened the door and saw Walter's face a flashback of her sucking Stone's dick crossed her mind. She instantly felt guilty. She may have convinced herself the night before that it wasn't cheating but at the moment she knew she cheated.

“Hey.” She smiled awkwardly.

“You ready?” he said.

“Let me get my purse.”

The energy in the car ride to Tessie's felt strained. They both knew that they were going to talk about Billie's leave of absence but neither one brought it up. Instead they talked about the weather and what they might want to eat at the restaurant.

They arrived at Tessie's exactly on time for their reservation and were seated immediately. Walter ordered a bottle of wine, which Billie wasn't in the mood for. Just the thought of drinking wine made Billie's head thump but she couldn't tell Walter. So she played along and let him pour her a glass. Another flashback of Stone cumming in her mouth and another pang of guilt swept over Billie. She hoped this guilt would pass over time.

“So, what happened? Why are you taking a leave of absence?”

“I'm getting burnt out. I've been working way too much. I was going to crack if I didn't get away from there.” She had been rehearsing this answer all day.

“Why didn't you talk to me about this?”

“It's my problem, not yours. I can deal with it.”

“I want to help you deal with it.”

“Stop it,” she warned.

“What? Billie, I care about you.”

“I know. You tell me all the time. I'm going through some things.” Her voice started to get louder but, try as she might, it seemed she couldn't lower it. “I can deal with it. I'll be fine. Can we just sit here and enjoy our meal and not have to talk about how you always want to help?”

Walter was stunned and hurt. He now had a decision to make: break it off with her, or give her the space she wanted and trust that everything would work out.

Billie got her wish: they did just sit there while they waited for their food to arrive, which seemed to take forever. A few times Walter looked as though he wanted to say something, even getting as far as opening his mouth. But then he'd cover with a cough, or by clearing his throat, and he wouldn't say a word.

A part of her felt bad about causing him so much grief. She knew he just cared about her. But she couldn't think about him or his motives right now. Her headache was coming back with a vengeance. All she wanted to do was get through this dinner, have some food on her stomach, and get back home again.

Finally, Walter seemed to find his voice. “I'm sorry if I'm smothering, but I care. If you need me to back off, fine. I will. Let's just enjoy tonight.” He raised his wine glass, and Billie did the same. They tapped them together in salutation just as the food arrived. They had both ordered Tessie's famous burgers.

Walter started in on his burger right away so he wouldn't keep talking about Billie's situation. He acted like he was fine with what was happening with their relationship, but he was hurting.

Billie took her knife and cut her burger in half. She couldn't stop comparing this night with the previous night.
Steaks last night, hamburgers tonight
, she thought. She was having trouble looking Walter in the eye. Billie was certain that Walter was picking up on her awkwardness.

“So who were you at the club with the other night?” Walter asked between bites.

“Some girlfriends.”

“I know. Who?”

“What does it matter? You don't know them. Why do you want to be so involved with my life?” Billie's voice was rising along with her anger from the guilt she was feeling.

“It's just a question. Calm down.”

“You know what? Take me home. I'm not feeling well.” She got up from the table.

“Billie . . .” Walter threw down some cash for the bill and followed Billie out the door.

It was windy tonight. Her hair whipped around her face, and the chilly breeze made Billie shudder and hug herself. She tried not to pay any attention to the elements as she stormed away.

“Billie. Where are you going?” he called out to her across the parking lot.

“Home.” She kept walking.

Walter quickly got in his car and drove up next to her as she continued to walk. “Get in. I'll give you a ride.”

She kept walking and didn't say anything.

“Don't be stubborn. What are you going to do, walk home?” He drove slowly next to her.

She walked a few more feet, then stopped. She stood there for a second, staring straight ahead. She so badly wanted to ignore him, but now the wind was making her eyes water and biting at her skin. She heaved a sigh, and then opened the passenger door and got in.

Neither one said a thing during the ride back to Billie's house. Walter was feeling rejected. Billie was embarrassed at the way she was acting.

Walter pulled in front of Billie's house. “Here you go,” he said.

Billie looked at Walter, feeling bad. “I'm sorry. I just need time to figure things out.” She got out of the car and walked into her house.

Walter watched with a heavy heart until she got inside. He put the car in drive and headed for home, unaware of the car that had been following him all night.

D'Angelo called Stone. He had just gotten a good look at the woman who was with Walter as they walked into Tessie's restaurant.

Stone's phone went directly to voice mail. “Yo, it's me. Call me as soon as you get this,” D'Angelo said after the beep.

D'Angelo needed to hear from Stone. He needed to know the story of this girl. Was she working with Stone, or was she working with Walter? He knew she wasn't a prostitute because Walter had picked her up from her house, but she was definitely working with someone.

Every few minutes he would check his phone to make sure he hadn't missed any calls; then he would call Stone again. Each call yielded the same results: no ring, directly to voice mail. D'Angelo couldn't believe that Stone would have his cell phone off. He was frustrated. He wasn't about to leave any information on voice mail, so he didn't leave any message after his first.

D'Angelo perked up in his car seat when he saw the woman come charging out of Tessie's. He was surprised she was without Walter. Then Walter came chasing after her a few seconds later. D'Angelo could hear Walter call out to her. The name Walter used was different from the name Stone called her. Now D'Angelo was thoroughly confused and suspicious. He slouched down in his car seat to make sure he wasn't spotted. He watched the scene unfold in front of him. Walter got in his car and drove next to Billie, trying to convince her to get in. He watched as she ignored him for a few moments, but then got in.

D'Angelo started his car and followed them. He made sure to stay far enough behind to avoid detection.

After following them for a while, he watched them pull up in front of Billie's house. D'Angelo parked down the block and watched as Billie walked into her house and Walter drove off. D'Angelo decided to follow Walter and see what his next move would be. The entire time he followed Walter, he couldn't stop thinking about Billie. Who was this woman, and how did she fit into this whole thing? He ran through several scenarios in his head about why she would be meeting with both Stone and Walter and giving two different names, but he couldn't come to any definitive conclusions.

As soon as D'Angelo realized Walter was heading back to his home he cancelled his trail. He was much more intrigued by this woman, and he was going to get to the bottom of who she was.

D'Angelo turned his car around and headed straight back to Billie's house. He pulled in front and cut his engine, then stayed in his car for several minutes planning his next move. He reached in the glove box, took out a pair of leather gloves, and slid them on. He flexed his fingers in and out of a fist to loosen the snug leather.

He walked up to the front door and rang the bell. When he heard Billie's footsteps walking to the door, his heart rate picked up.

Billie opened the door, still dressed in the same clothes from her evening out. “Walter, I'm . . .” She stopped in mid-sentence when she saw it wasn't Walter.

“I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else.” She could sense that something was not right, and got that uneasy feeling in her stomach.

He slammed his hands into her chest, pushing her back into her house. Then he quickly stepped in and closed the door behind him.

Billie recovered her balance and moved away from him to create more distance between them.

“Who are you?” D'Angelo asked.

“Stay away from me. I'll have you arrested.” She kept slowly backing away.

“Who are you?” He moved toward her slowly.

“I'm fucking warning you.”

“Billie or Sheila?” he asked.

Billie's eyes widened at the question, which caught her off-guard. She had been found out, and this guy was here to kill her. “Who are you?” she asked.

“I'm an associate of Phareed.”

“Then you should know who I am. Ask Phareed.”

Billie needed to stall and figure a way out of this. She had to keep this guy talking, then attack.

“Believe me, I will. But why don't you clarify with me who the fuck you are?”

“Phareed won't be happy if you kill me.”

“I'm not gonna kill you. Yet. Let's take a ride and see Phareed and Stone. See what they have to say about you and your two names.” He rushed at her.

She tried to run away, but he easily caught her and tackled her. She struggled to get free, but before she could do anything, he had her hands in zip ties. He pulled her up by her bound wrists and pushed her out the door. She tried putting up a fight, but with her hands behind her back it was useless. D'Angelo shoved her into the front seat of his car. While he was trying to buckle her seat belt, she bit into his neck. He pulled away and grabbed her by the throat and squeezed.

“I will fucking end you, bitch.”

Billie fought to take a breath, but her airway was shut. She kicked her legs and writhed around in an attempt to free herself, but D'Angelo's grip was too tight. After a few seconds of torture, D'Angelo released his grip. Billie took a huge breath, filling her lungs with oxygen. She could feel her windpipe throbbing.

D'Angelo drove them to the rear entrance of the Honey Trap. He pulled her down the short hallway and pushed her into Phareed's office. Billie was relieved to see the office empty. She still had time to find a way out of this.

“Where the fuck are these two?” D'Angelo said. He locked the door behind them. “Don't fucking move. I'm going to find them.” He exited the door that led to the main part of the club.

Billie frantically searched the room for anything that might be used to cut her wrists free. There was nothing out in the open, so she moved her search to the desk. She backed up to the desk, grabbed a hold of a handle, and opened a drawer. It was empty. She rummaged through the next one but didn't feel anything but papers. The third drawer was filled with junk—pencils, pens, paper clips, old cell phones. She was starting to lose hope that she would find anything. She figured if they had anything for her to use it would have been in this drawer. She pushed her fears to the side and continued her search.

The final drawer was a lower drawer that she had to sit on the floor to open. She sat down and scooted herself against the desk, grabbed the handle, and opened the drawer. She blindly reached in and felt around. Empty.

“Shit!”

She sat for a second trying to calm her mind and gather her thoughts. It was useless. She was in panic mode. Reopening the junk drawer, she started to search again. Maybe she could figure out a way to use a pen or something. When she turned to see what was in the drawer, she couldn't believe her eyes. There was a pair of scissors toward the back.
How did I not feel those before?

She spun back around and reached for the scissors, straining to get her hands far enough back to grab on to them. She had to torque her shoulders so much she felt like she was going to dislocate them. Not being able to see what she was doing wasn't making it any easier. She was finally able to get a hold of the handle with one of her fingers and slide it closer to her. Once the scissors were closer, she was able to grab them and take them out.

Billie was quickly trying to maneuver the scissors in her hand to cut her wrists free. She was having trouble positioning them to get the ties between the blades. She finally got them into position and was about to squeeze the handle when the scissors slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor.

“Shit.”

She immediately got on the floor and went for the scissors. It was easier for her this time to get them in her hands. She began to get the blades in position.

The door opened. “Where the fuck are you?” D'Angelo called out.

Billie was on the floor behind the desk, shielded from his sight.

She stayed quiet but continued to maneuver the blades. She could hear him coming toward her as she struggled to get the blades in position.

D'Angelo appeared at the corner of the desk. “What the fuck you doin' down there?”

“I fell.” Billie had the blades in position to free her wrists.

“Well, get the fuck up.”

“I can't.”

Just as D'Angelo started toward her, she cut the zip tie then lunged forward, stabbing him in the stomach.

“Aggghhhhh! Fuck!” He hunched over and grabbed for her wrist. She was too quick and was able to pull the scissors out before he could get control of them. D'Angelo covered the puncture wound with his hand and went after Billie. As soon as he made a move, she plunged the scissors deep into his chest, puncturing his heart. This stopped him cold. He froze for a second with a stunned look on his face. Out of instinct, he moved his hand from his stomach to his heart. He stood there and swayed back and forth just staring at Billie. She didn't know if he was in shock or what.

Billie's adrenaline was up, her hands were bloody, and her breathing was rapid. She was like a wild dog.

D'Angelo took a step toward Billie, and she unleashed her fury on him. She started stabbing him over and over and over. By the time she stopped, she had stabbed him a total of thirty-seven times and his mutilated body lay on the floor in a pool of blood.

Billie collapsed to her knees in exhaustion, unsure if she wanted to scream or cry. As she stared at the lifeless body in front of her, the office door opened.

Billie's head snapped in the direction of the door to see who it was. “Oh my God, Phareed.”

“What the fuck?” He stood in the doorway.

Billie got up from the floor and slowly started toward him, forcing tears to well up in her eyes. “Phareed, he . . . he tried to rape me,” she said between sobs.

When Billie got close enough to Phareed, he slapped her across the face. “The fuck you thinkin', bitch?”

She was stunned. “I had to defend myself.” She held her stinging face.

“No, you didn't. If a nigga wants to have sex, just do it. The fuck is wrong with you? What are you even doin' here?” He shoved Billie by her shoulders. She went flying back and almost fell onto D'Angelo's body.

“I came to see you; then he attacked me.” She was coming up with her story on the fly. Lying had become so much easier for her lately.

“I don't give a fuck. You murked a cop, you dumb bitch.”

Billie's heart sank instantly. The blood rushed from her face, and she felt like she was going to pass out.

“Yeah, that's right. He was a fuckin' cop.” Phareed saw the look of terror in her eyes.

“Oh, fuck,” she said, barely above a whisper. “What are we gonna do?”

“You done enough already. You ain't gonna do shit. I'ma take care of this and you gonna owe my ass.”

“Anything you want,” she said.

He smiled devilishly. “Damn right.”

He looked at the body as he paced around it, making sure to avoid stepping in the blood. He got on his phone and made a call.

“Jumbo, I need you to clean up a mess at the office.” He listened to Jumbo's response. “I'll be here.” He hung up the phone.

“This is gonna cost you. You gonna have to earn me some money.”

“How?”

“Well, since it seems niggas want to get at that pussy, I'ma put you in my stable of bitches.”

Billie hesitated before speaking. “You want me to be a prostitute.”

“I prefer my women to be called escorts, but yeah, you gonna be a fuckin' whore and pay me back for killin' a cop in my office.”

Billie started trying to think of a way out of this, and then she realized she might be in a good position. This could be her chance to kill Phareed. No one saw them come in, and the only one who had seen her in the office was dead. But the question was, how would she do it? The only way she saw to kill him was with the scissors. She had to get those scissors.

“Okay, I can do that,” she said, stalling for time as she tried to formulate her plan of attack. “As long as I get a cut from my tricks.” She tried to see the scissors out of the corner of her eye without Phareed noticing. This was going to have to happen fast.

“Oh shit, a little businesswoman on my hands. Before we discuss any of that, you know I gots to sample my product.”

“You sayin' you wanna fuck?” She sexily narrowed her eyes and puckered her lips. He stepped toward Billie. This was her chance. She was going to make a move for the scissors.

She got a surge of energy at the thought of finally killing Phareed. One more step and she would go for the scissors.

Billie felt like she was watching in slow motion as Phareed went to take his final step. Just as his foot landed, she leaped for the scissors. At that exact moment, Jumbo came into the office. Luckily, Billie was able to make her sudden movement look like she was just startled by the door opening, so Phareed didn't suspect her real motives. Unfortunately, there were now two people she would have to kill. She knew her odds against two of them were not good.

“Oh shit.” Jumbo was looking at the gruesome scene.

“Wait out in the club,” Phareed said to Billie.

“Okay.” She left the office and went into the main room of the strip club. She sat at a table and watched as Isis was again dancing on the stage. Isis saw her and started mean mugging her. Billie found it humorous because she could see that Isis's demeanor was affecting her money. Dudes who had bills in their hands suddenly started putting them back in their pockets. Billie sat there with a shit-eating grin on her face as Isis shook her ass and made no money.

Billie was enjoying taunting Isis so much that she forgot she was waiting for Phareed. When she came back to reality, she realized that Phareed was going to want to fuck.
What the fuck am I waiting around for? I could just leave,
she thought. Billie stood up, flipped her hair at Isis, and started for the door. She got halfway across the room when someone grabbed her by the elbow.