Thug in Me (17 page)

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Authors: Karen Williams

BOOK: Thug in Me
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Chapter 27
With the free time I had at work after I got all my repairs done I did some further research on the Internet to find a private investigator. Yeah, I was out and free but still, the case and how it panned out with me losing seven years of my life was going to forever bother me until I found out the truth. Why that dude who I never met before testified against me? Why? What were his motives? Unless I found out, that shit would forever be on my mind. I wanted answers, plain and simple. So with a little research on the web, I got the number to several investigators in my area.
I stopped by
Jump Street Investigations
in the city of Lakewood.
Once I got there and was informed of their rates I did a quick about-face and exited the office. They wanted one hundred dollars an hour. I couldn't afford that. I visited two more offices that were even more expensive than him.
So I was hoping I would have more luck with the next dude.
His name was Mateo Garcia and he was located in north Long Beach.
When I arrived at the address from my printout, I almost thought I had the wrong address because the one I had was actually a Mexican restaurant.
I walked inside and asked a waitress, “Excuse me. Do you know where Mateo Garcia's office is?”
She nodded. “It is in the back, behind the kitchen, sir. Follow me.”
I looked at the kitchen, surprised.
Part of me wanted to turn around and catch the bus home. But since I had already wasted a token coming here, I might as well see what the dude was talking about.
I followed behind the waitress.
He looked like he was in his thirties, sitting behind a beat-up desk with a cowboy hat and some cowboy boots. Looking at the whole setup, I really had doubts that he could help me.
Still, when he stood and introduced himself by shaking my hand, I shook it back and sat across from him in the chair he gestured toward, feeling doubtful as hell.
He sat back in his chair, crossed his legs, and laced both his hands over one of his knees.
“So tell me about how I can help you?” He had a strong accent. I cleared my throat. “About seven years ago, I was getting out of my shower at my house. The next thing I knew, cops were dragging me out and whipping my ass. I was arrested for murder of a police officer, Devin Johnson. I was sentenced to twenty years to life in prison.”
He looked surprised.
“My murder was third-degree.”
“I see. Not with the intent to kill.”
“Anyway, when I was there, I got the warden on some shit and a guard.” I didn't bother telling him about what had happened to me there.
“They agreed if I testified against the warden and the dirty guard that they would bargain with me. They dropped the murder charge to manslaughter and I served only seven years.”
He nodded.
“Okay, you're out. He spread his arms. “Why start an investigation? Wouldn't it be better to move on with your life? Seven years have passed since this murder, no? Maybe the better thing to do is to let it go.”
“If I had had the power and the money to fight it when I was in prison I would have, but all the cards were stacked against me. My lawyer dropped the case when I couldn't get money to him. I filed an appeal but it was denied because I had no evidence that supported that the trial was unfair and to support that I was innocent.”
“That doesn't answer my question. You are out, you're free. Again I ask you, Chance, why not just let this go?”
“Because I lost my mother, my girl, my baby, pretty much my life. And I want to do something about it.”
“What makes you think that you can do something about this?”
“Because I didn't do it. Look, it makes no sense. If I didn't do it, somebody else did and I wanna know why in the hell he didn't got caught?”
“Because you did.”
We were going in circles. I shook my head and stood. “You know what?” I said impatiently. “I'm wasting my fucking time.”
He rolled one of his hands in a circular motion, saying, “easy, easy.”
I shook my head, preparing to walk out. His words stopped me.
“Wait and listen. The system is fucked up. We know this but there has to be some type of substantial evidence as to why they pinned you for the murder.” His tongue rolled over each word.
“All they had was a fucking witness. And some blood in my car.”
His eyes got wide. “That is all they needed. Sit down.”
I did. “But it was a man I have never seen before.”
That's when his interest was piqued. He started jotting something down on a notepad, while singing, “
Vido mas. Vido mas
.”
“So I still don't get why this murder was pinned on me.”
“But he does.”
“Huh?”
“The witness.”
I nodded.
“What do you hope to gain out of this? I mean, you're free now, you got your life back.”
“Not really,” I said dryly. I lost what mattered to me the most. I'd never have my life back.
“Then . . . ”
“I want fucking answers. I lost too much to just go on as an ex-convict, living in a motel room, and making minimum wage. I want answers. And I want my name cleared.”
He was silent before sitting down the notepad and asking, “Do you remember the name of the witness?”
I thought back to that day. I saw his face and remembered how casually he lied on me on the witness stand.
“Yeah. Ron Jasper.”
He scribbled it down. “The way to figure this out is to find him. I charge forty dollars an hour. If you can commit to three hours a week then I will throw in an extra hour for free. I can't guarantee my fee will stay that price. Most private investigators charge more.”
But they probably weren't in the back of a Mexican restaurant, I wanted to say.
“You determine how many hours a week you want my services. And listen, I may not have a real office and may not look like I know what I'm talking about, but I can get you the answers you are looking for.”
I was real doubtful that he could. “And suppose that I do chose you. What would you do?”
“Figure out who killed the cop. It's not openly complicated. I'm gonna lead you to the person who has all the answers and get him to open his fucking mouth. Bang bang.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and I calculated in my head how much I would be paying. I made only three hundred and eighty dollars a week. After taxes I took home three hundred a week. Since I was staying at the Grace Hotel they charged me one hundred and seventy five dollars per week for my room. I had gotten paid last week and paid for my room for the next two weeks, bought myself some clothes, food and bath items I needed, and an electric skillet. So all I had left to my name was only one hundred bucks for the next two weeks. Still, I peeled out eighty dollars and handed it to him.
“That is all that I can afford. When I have more I will give you more.”
He stuffed the money in his pockets.
“We will go from there. Is there a number where I can reach you?”
“No. But I will stay in contact with you.”
I shook his hand and stood to leave.
“Would you like something to eat? I'm the manger here so it will be on me.”
I wanted to decline but the thought of going back home and eating crackers with tuna, sardines or top ramen, made me say yes. Although my room was a kitchenette, I was trying to stretch my money.
I sat down at one of the tables in the restaurant after he walked me out. I scanned the menu and picked the first thing I saw: a
carne asada
burrito, with everything.
A few minutes later the waitress who had helped me earlier brought it to my table.
My mouth watered as she sat it in front of me.
Red sauce and cheese covered it. Yes, I had been out of jail for a couple weeks but I still hadn't had a decent meal because of my penny-pinching.
I picked up the fork and dug in. Steak, beans, cheese, rice, guacamole, and sour cream filled my mouth. I scooped another piece in my mouth. I was so into the burrito that I almost didn't look up when my name was called.
“Chance?”
I knew who it was before I even got the chance to look at her. I could not forget that voice.
My eyes instantly locked with Toi's.
Chapter 28
I scanned her quickly, putting a pause on my chewing, and swallowing hard. She looked the same except her face was a little rounder and her hips had spread out. She wore her hair long on one side and shaved on the other with stars carved on it. Did I miss the new trend while I was in prison? Women were shaving the side of their head now?
She smiled.
Memories came back. When we were together, making love . . . how she broke me by leaving me when I needed her the most. My eyes watered a little. So I looked away from her and scanned the guy. It wasn't the dude she had brought with her when she came to visit me in prison, but he looked no better than him. He looked like a loser straight up, from the braids on his head to the way he dressed. With all the anger inside of me I tried to reconcile it by asking myself, ‘Could I really blame her for leaving me with the time I was facing? ' No, but it was the way she got down, the way she did it. It was plain-out dirty.
She walked over to my table and stood in front of me.
“I knew that was you!” she said in an excited voice.
I nodded.
“I never thought you would get out.” She looked away and then looked back at me. “Does Calhoun know?”
I shook my head. “I haven't seen him yet.”
“I have his number if you want it.”
Before I could begrudgingly say I did, the dude with her demanded, “Man, are we going to eat or what? And who the fuck is this nigga anyway?”
“None of your fucking business,” I said, picking my fork back up.
“What the fuck you say?”
I scooped some burrito in my mouth. “You heard me.”
She shoved him back. “Just go sit down, damn!”
He sucked his teeth and walked away.
“So where are you staying, Chance?”
“Thanks to you, at a hotel.”
She nodded and pulled her lips in.
Before she could say anything else the dude said, “Baby, come on so we can order!”
She backed away, continuing to stare at me as she did. “See you later, Chance.”
I didn't reply. I just continued to shove the burrito in my mouth until nothing was left on my plate except a little of the rice and tomato that had fallen out the burrito while I was eating. I scooped that up as well and ate it.
And although I managed to keep my face clear of expression, to see her after all these years after she did what she did and with another man, the shit still touched me.
 
 
Although Zalman said it would be him and I working in the store only, he forgot to mention that all the women he would be tricking his money off on would be in the store too. Case in point today, while his wife was running the other store, he was here in the back room with another chick.
That's all he ever came in to do and the repairs were all mine.
I had been working there exactly a month. Dude was no joke with the women.
“If my wife calls tell her I'm out doing a service call!” he yelled
“Got it.”
I shook my head at him as he ushered a woman into the back room. Guess that was his boom-boom room.
By the time he came out, I managed to clean the hard drive of a laptop, remove the viruses, and do a data transfer. Next thing I knew, he was kicking the chick right out of the store. Even after he pushed her out, the smell of her box stayed in the store.
I continued to stay busy with the laptop. I was putting the screws back on it and tightening them.
My back was to him but I could feel him staring at me.
“Did my wife call?”
“Nope.” I twisted the small screwdriver in my hand.
“You keep what happens in the store between you and me, okay?”
I nodded and chuckled. I knew he was referring to the women he had coming in and out of the store.
Before I could reply, the door chimed because and someone came in and with them came the sweet scent of vanilla.
“Zalman! Oh my God. I'm so glad you are here! My laptop just crashed and I don't know what to do. Can you please fix this thing?”
He chuckled. “Deyja, don't worry. We will fix it.”
I froze. Could it be?
I turned my head slightly and looked at the woman standing in front of him. And when I did, my breath nearly caught in my throat.
She was beautiful. Her skin was light brown and flawless, not a mark on it. She had delicately arched eyebrows over her eyes, which were brown and almond shaped. As she continued to explain what happened to her computer her long lashes swept lightly over her perfectly carved cheekbones. Her mouth was full and lush with lipstick that was the color of plums. She twitched her button nose as Zalman talked to her.
My eyes couldn't help but travel down her body. She had full breasts hidden beneath a blazer, and the blazer showed the curve of her small waist and broad hips. Her face and body favored the actress Paula Patton, the one who played in that movie the rappers from OutKast starred in,
Idlewild
. I had seen it in prison.
I got up from my chair and walked over to the counter, keeping my eyes down and pretending to be looking for something. But instead I was trying to get a closer look at the name that Zalaman was scribbling on the work order. It read
Deyja Sims
.
It was her. So this is the woman who had been writing me all this time.
I went back over to the table I had abandoned and tried to put my focus back in what I was doing before she walked in, but I couldn't stop taking peeks at her as I tightened the last screw.
The more I studied her, the more I saw something there behind her eyes too. Pain.
When Zalman cracked his normal jokes that always had other customers laughing—not at the joke, but more at him, because you couldn't even understand the joke and because it never made sense and when he talked spit always flew. But he didn't bring any laughter from Deyja that day. She only offered a smile and said in a soft voice when he was done, “Okay, great.”
“Just give us a couple hours and we will have it fixed. I will call you when I'm done”
“Thank you, Zalman!”
She did not even glance my way when she walked out of the store.
“Oh God, she is so fucking hot!” he said, watching her walk out of the store. “I love to watch those sexy lips move. I wish they would move on me!”
I watched her too, the whole time wishing I had the guts to tell her who I was. I wondered what she would have said if I told her that I was Chance.
“Hey buddy! Get to work.” He ignored the fact that it was five minutes until I was scheduled to be off and that he hadn't done a lick of work that day.
“Don't worry. I will pay you for overtime. I'm not running a sweatshop.”
“No. You don't have to pay me overtime. Just do me a favor, sir.”
“Sure. What?”
“When she comes back to pick up her laptop don't tell her my real name.”
He chuckled. “No problem. Just tell me what you want me to call you.”
I thought quickly. “Isaiah is fine.”
He chuckled and walked away. “Okay. As long as you keep my secrets, I will keep yours. Now get to work.”
He paused in front of his camcorder, pointed, but then said, “I'm just kidding.”
 
 
The solution to her problem was that her hardware overheated. But before I performed diagnostics I saved the documents on her computer on a flash.
Fixing it was simple. A can of compressed air being sprayed from a distance cooled it down.
I also downloaded a registry cleaner.
She came back to the store like clockwork.
She looked surprised when she saw me behind the counter. “Hello.”
“How are you doing?” I asked her nervously.
“Good. And you?”
I simply nodded and my lips pulled in.
“Is Zalman here? He said my laptop would be repaired in a few hours.”
I went from behind the counter to get it. “I have it right here. It overheated. A good thing to do is to have a can of compressed air and spray from a distance, should the same thing happen again.”
She nodded.
I also slid a flash drive her way. “All of your documents are on here. Just in case.”
She smiled, revealing a perfect set of white teeth. “Okay. Thanks so much. I hope that didn't take up too much of your time.”
“It's no problem.”
Just then Zalman walked out. I prayed he remembered not to call me Chance.
“Deyja, this is C—Isaiah. He works in the store. He will be doing home visits so if you need something repaired you can call and ask for him also.” Zalman patted me on my back.
I guess he really did trust me.
She stared at me for a moment before saying, “Okay. That is good to know.”
I couldn't stop staring at her. I mean, she was beautiful. And this was her.
“How much do I owe you?”
Zalman rang up the amount. It ended up being forty-five dollars.
I still couldn't stop staring at her. At one point she noticed and locked eyes with me. But I wouldn't break the stare. Again, I thought, she was here. Crazy. Small world.

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