Red Hot Liar (9781617738654) (25 page)

Believe it or not, I missed my ghetto Granny, and I even missed Aunt Bibby's bald-headed behind too. So with all that on my heart I made up my mind. Mizz Mink was going home! The first chance I got I was taking my ass right back to New York!

S
elah had deliberately dressed down and dabbed just a tiny bit of makeup on her face. The last thing she wanted to do today was flaunt her wealth, and standing in her mirror dressed in a regular old pair of blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt, she still looked cute, but she was definitely understated.

She had the doorman bring Fallon's old Toyota around to the front of the house. It had been a present for her fifteenth birthday and Viceroy had bought it specifically for her to use as she learned how to drive. By the time she was old enough to get her license, the Toyota had more dents and dings than a little bit, and Viceroy had surprised his baby girl with a brand new Porsche to celebrate her new driving privileges.

Selah had a flashback to her old Brooklyn days when her father drove a whooptie and struggled to keep the lights on and his children fed. It had been a special treat to get a ride in his old raggedy car because most kids in New York caught the train or the bus everywhere they went.

She drove down the highway handling the Toyota carefully. After years of having her ass touch the seats of only premium cars like Bentleys, BMWs, Maseratis, Porsches, and every now and then a Lexus or a Mercedes, the little Toyota felt hard as a rock. It was way too close to the ground for her comfort, and the windows rattled in their frames every time she hit a bump.

Thoughts of the old times flowed through Selah's mind as she drove. Her and Viceroy went way, way back with Wally Su, and he had once been considered one of their closest allies. He and Viceroy had been bright-eyed and ambitious young men together, eager to claim a stake in the upper crust of the world. They had made a solemn pact and one hand had loyally washed the other, and today Selah was going to sit beside Wally's deathbed and remind him about that shit.

According to Suge, Wally had been moved to a hospice to live out his final days, and Selah was prepared to beg for his mercy and cooperation on behalf of her family. Although Viceroy had been the brains behind a lot of their business dealings, he would've never become as powerful and successful without Wally's help. But Wally would have never become as rich without Viceroy's burning drive and determination either. She had called ahead to the hospice and was told that only those on a pre-approved visitors list were allowed to have access to the patients, but Selah was led in her spirit to show up in person and try to see him anyway.

The hospice was situated on a quiet stretch of greenery that looked colorful and serene on the outside. A spray of bright flowers lined both sides of the walkway, innocent reminders of new life in a place where the primary business was death.

It was a warm day outside, but the stifling heat that hit her when she stepped into the building was at least ten degrees hotter.

“Finally!” A young white man sitting behind the front counter looked up at her with frustration in his eyes. The sleeves on his white dress shirt were rolled up to the elbows, and the sweated-through fabric clung to his pale skin.

“Er, hello,” Selah said hesitantly. “I'm here to—”

“Where are the other two?” he demanded, pushing a damp shock of black hair off his sweating forehead. “I asked them to send three.”

Selah shook her head. “Well, I er—”

“Never mind,” he snapped. “It doesn't matter. One, three, five . . . the way the stomach bug has run through my staff it's going to take at least ten temps to get us through the madness today. Over there—” He pointed toward a doorway on the right. “You can put your things in a locker and grab yourself a pair of scrubs. Most of our patients are pretty stable for the moment but we've got at least three who could check out at any time.”

Beads of sweat had formed on Selah's top lip and she swept her hair back and shook her head. “But I—”

“I know, I know,” the young man said impatiently. “It's hot as hell in here. The central air pump went out late last night and I've been trying to get someone in here to fix it all morn—”

The jarring ring of the telephone interrupted him.

“Good,” he said, snatching it off the hook. “This is the repairman now.” He covered the mouthpiece with his hand and glared at her. “Move it!” he snapped, angling his head toward the locker room. “Get in there and get changed, and when you're done check on our three sickest patients first before they die on us—Baker, Duncan, and the other one I think his name is um—” He glanced at a clipboard that hung from a hook near the desk. “Su. Wally Su.”

 

Dressed in a pair of loose-fitting nurse's scrubs with tiny Minnie Mouse emblems on the shirt, Selah stood over Wally Su's bed and stared down into the face of her former friend.

“Wally,” she whispered softly as the gaunt face with the gaping mouth and fluttering eyes stared up at her.

He had never been what you would call handsome, but right now he looked a mess. Selah could see why he'd been so eager to get on Skype and confess to the commission. Wally was almost dead. His flesh had been ravaged by disease and there was a horrible rotting smell oozing out of his open mouth, as though his insides were already racked with decay. And with his body already as good as in the grave, Wally was trying to save his soul.

“Wally!” she said a little bit louder. His eyelids fluttered weakly and he struggled to close his mouth, only to have it fall open again.

Selah studied him. A large sign was taped to the wall above his headboard that had the letters
DNR
in bold magic marker. He was connected to several machines, and one of them emitted a beep every few seconds. Nearly every hole on his body had something running either into or out of it.

Selah raked her hair back with her fingers. She had to talk some sense into Wally. To convince him to honor the pact he'd made with Viceroy all those years ago. It would have been so easy to put her hand over his mouth and pinch his damn nose closed, Selah thought. But did she have it in her to do it?

Selah knew she could do whatever it took to protect her husband and her children, because even if Wally died before he could confess, there was still the matter of those documents he was holding that, no matter what, must
never
see the light of day.

“Wally,” she called out again, leaning closer to him. “It's your old friend, Selah,” she said. “Selah Dominion. Can you hear me, Wally? Please, open your eyes. Open your eyes if you can hear me, Wally.”

She watched as his eyelids fluttered again and then opened wide. For a brief moment they stared at each other and recognition and remembrance flowed freely between them.

And then the look in Wally's eyes changed. Recognition became concern, and concern turned first into fright and then into terror.

“No, no, no . . .” Selah put her hand on his chest and tried to reassure him. “You're safe, Wally. I just came to talk to you. To find out where in the world you put those papers and to ask you to give them to me and spare my family and yours too, any further trouble and embarrassment.”

Wally started tossing his head from side to side and Selah was shocked by what had crept into his eyes. Yes, it was fear! Even with one foot already in the grave and his fist raised to knock on death's door, Wally wanted to live! He was afraid of her. Afraid she would shorten his time on earth by a few measly hours, at the most a couple of days.

“Where are those papers?” Selah demanded. His lips moved frantically and she had to practically press her ear to his mouth to make out what he was trying to say.

“Where are they, Wally? I can't understand you. Tell me. Where are they?” she cried.

She lowered her ear down to his moving lips again and then she heard him.

“Help!” he whispered weakly. “Help!”

“Shut up!” Selah snapped. “You weren't crying for help when you were taking our goddamn money and living high on the hog! All those years we thought you were our friend, and now when you have nothing left to lose except your old soft, moldy bones you turn around and betray us! Where's that goddamn paperwork? Where is it?”

“Look un-un-un . . .” he struggled to whisper, “under my . . . nuts!”

Selah hauled off and slapped him. Slapped the holy shit outta him!

“You old
bastard
! I was there for you when your daughter was born! I held your hand while your wife took her last breath! You're a hypocrite, Wally!” She slapped the shit outta him again. “A goddamn hypo—”

Wally's head jerked back and Selah heard his breath catch in his throat.

“Wally?” she said, her eyes searching his face. “Are you okay? Oh my God. I'm so sorry for hitting you. I didn't mean to hurt you, I just lost my temper and—Wally?”

Selah jumped back as Wally's eyes rolled to the back of his head and a trickle of white foam ran from his mouth.

“Wally!” she shrieked as his eyeballs fell back into place and the machine beside his bed began emitting a series of blaring beeps.

Two nurses rushed into the room and began examining him and checking his vital signs. Trembling, Selah stepped away and began anxiously running her hands up and down her arms, suddenly chilled in the midst of the suffocating heat.

“He's gone,” one of the nurses finally said. She was an older, heavyset white woman with turned-over shoes and massive sweat stains under her armpits. She glanced down at her watch. “I'm pronouncing him. I'll notify his family and you two get him prepped for the freezer before he melts right into that bed.”

Selah stood there in shock as the other nurse, a pretty young Latina who couldn't have been more than twenty-five, motioned for her to come closer and help.

“Yank some of these tubes out, mami, why don'tcha,” she said, chewing on a big wad of gum.

“But I-I-I'm not a—”

“You're not an LPN? What, you're an RN?” She glanced up at Selah giving her a dirty look. “Well, none of that crap matters around here,” she said, yanking back the sheet and stripping the adult diaper from Wally's still body. She lifted his shriveled penis between two fingers and pulled out his catheter, then tossed the sheet back over him. “We've got so many dropping like flies around here that everybody pitches in to tag 'em and bag 'em. Come on, mamacita. Take his IV out while I call somebody to bring the meat wagon. Hurry up, too. This old boy is about to get nice and stiff.”

W
hen Bunni got a wild hair up her ass there was no pulling that shit out. She had finally accepted the fact that GiGi had played her for a sucker, and now she had it set in her mind that she was gonna get her some backsies.

“That bitch is a red hot liar,” she told me as she sat cross-legged at the foot of my bed staring at her laptop. A yellow notepad sat beside her and a stubby pencil was stuck behind her ear.

“Which bitch is a liar?” I looked up as a thousand names flew through my mind in a flash. Me, her, Peaches, Selah, Jude . . . “Which bitch you talking about, B?”

“GiGi!” she spit. “She's a damn liar. I don't believe shit she said. Matter fact, I don't think that heffah even works on TV!”

“Why you say that? I mean I don't think we was ever in the runnings for no damn show, but damn. Why would she come up in here from the jump if she's not on a job?”

“Oh, she's on a job,” Bunni smirked. “The same type'a job we was on when we first came down here.”

I bucked my eyes. “A flimflam? That bitch is tryna catch us in a flimflam?”

“Hell yeah.” Bunni nodded. “Check this out.” She crawled up to the head of my bed with her laptop and thrust the screen under my nose.

“Look at this shit!”

My eyes ran down the page as I saw mug shot after mug shot and read charge after criminal charge. “What the hell!”

“Yeah, I been investigating that ass! Mizz GiGi is in the game, Mink. That heffa is runnin' a racket!”

I couldn't believe all the shit I was seeing, but it was her for sure. Mami had aliases out the ass and at least a trillion different mug shots, and they were all different too. In some pictures she was a blonde, in others she was sporting the brunette look. Sometimes her hair was short and sometimes it was real long, she had gone for the jet-black goth style in a few, and in a couple she even had a stud-chick buzz cut that didn't look cute on her
at all.

“Girl, where'd you find this website?” I said, impressed like a mutha. “Put my name in the box and see what comes up.”

Bunni smirked and waved me off. “I already did. You in there, girl. All up in that shit. Me and P, too. But look at all these charges they got on GiGi!”

“Yep,” I said, still reading. “And GiGi ain't even her real name.”

“Nope,” Bunni said. “That shit is Georgia! Georgia Mullins.”

“Damn!” I cursed and then whistled as my finger swept down the screen. “That heffa been knocked for all types of shit,” I said and read out loud. “Shoplifting, embezzlement, forgery, extortion—”

“Pickpocketing!” Bunni cut in as she scrolled to a new page. “Prostitution, burglary, blackmail—”

“Identity theft! Insurance fraud! Larceny! Wire fraud!”

I shook my head. “This chick is a professional,” I said with mad admiration. “She got all kinds of levels to her game and she still managed to stay outta the joint most of the time.”

“Yeah, and it looks like she mighta took shit to the ultimate level too,” Bunni said with a chill in her voice.

“What's that?” I asked.

“Murder!” she said, stabbing her finger at the screen.

“Stop playing!” I snapped. “We been in the life for years jacking mad niggas too, but that don't make us no murderers!”

“I'm serious,” Bunni insisted. “It says right here that three men she was known to date came up missing. The last person them rich cats were seen with was her, and now all three of them are gone!”

I looked at Bunni and she looked at me. Her eyes got all big and mine did too.

“
Ooooh
,
”
Bunni made the
somebody's in trouble
sound. “Is you thinking what I'm thinking?” my day one girl asked me.

I nodded like a mutha and then both of us bust outta our mouths with the same damn word at the same damn time.

“
Barron
!”