Wrong Chance (15 page)

Yancee shook his head and tightened his jaw. “That's not the point.”

“I swear AIS is some top-secret stuff. I've never heard of it,” Anderson said. “What does someone look like who has it?”

“You know the girl this article is talking about,” Yancee said.

“No, I don't.” Anderson emphatically made that statement like he would be ashamed if he did know her.

“The bea— Whoa, I almost said beautiful, but that doesn't sound right anymore,” Yancee said. “It's Cash, that reclusive girl who works in the school bookstore.”

Anderson's brows lifted. “Stop playing. She's probably the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen.”

Leon nodded, proud of himself. “And she-slash-he has a Valentine's date that ends with a tongue kiss with Chance. Bought and paid for. I'm gonna laugh my ass off and record the whole kiss part. Chance is finally gonna get what he has coming to him for sleeping with and stealing people's girls.”

“Chance is a little off. Like
needs medication
off, if you somehow haven't noticed.” Anderson stared at Euclid Avenue from the window. “He might pull a Jenny Jones if he finds out. No matter how you slice it, Leon, Chance will think that going out with Cash and kissing her is a homosexual act.”

“You sound like you're gonna snitch on me.” Leon gave Anderson a hard stare.

“I don't have a thing to do with it. Now I wish I didn't know.”

Leon turned his ominous gaze on Yancee. “What about you, champ?”

“It's your world, Leon; it's all on you. And even if I were so happenly to laugh at the situation, which I might, that doesn't mean I condone your bullshit. So don't misinterpret nothing.”

“Before you even look at me,” Jazz said. “I told you once already that it ain't my business. I don't know this Chance dude or y'all. But I do think this AIS business is an interesting subject matter to research and write about. Leon, think you can introduce me to Cash?”

“Sure, but she doesn't know we know her secret.”

“D
ude, don't confuse my willingness to postpone your death sentence with compassion. I didn't give you permission to stop running your fucking mouth.”

“It's my sugar, Chance,” Anderson said, sweat spilling off him. “I need my insulin.”

Chance thought about that for a long while. “Where is it, shithead?”

“In my tote bag hanging there.” Anderson pointed to a wall-mounted coat rack near the door.

After looking across the room at the tote, Chance focused back on Anderson. “Move that turd cutter of yours an inch and you're gonna be in humongous trouble.” Chance went to the tote bag and swapped Anderson's syringe with the one he brought in his murder kit.

Then two things happened: some illiterate asswipe knocked on the door and Anderson screamed for help like a bitch. Chance was fucked.

•  •  •

By 9:15 a.m. Detective Aspen Skye had dropped off John Doe's fingerprints to be run through the system. When she entered the cool ambience of the Homicide Unit, she walked in on the tail end
of a conversation between the notorious male chauvinist Detective Omar Madison and Tony Adams. There was no doubt in Aspen's mind that Madison was trying to proselytize Tony Adams to his fucked-up views about women.

“See, Adams, there's absolutely nothing like it,” Detective Madison said, gnawing on an imitation Havana. “But the irony about a decent blow job is that you've got the chick on her knees where she's supposed to be, submitting to you, but she's got you by the balls.”

Madison's pseudo-Havana made Aspen crave a cigarette, but she headed to the coffee maker for a fix instead. “Madison, why don't you tell Tony how magnificent women like me have super powers.”

“You wish you had super powers, Skye. You wish women had any real power at all,” Detective Madison said as if Aspen was way out of line for opening her mouth and butting in without an invite.

“Trust me, Madison, I do have super powers. I can get soaking wet any time I want to without water. I can bleed without being cut. I can make boneless meat hard as a rock, and I can make you eat without cooking whenever the fuck I feel like it.” She saw Madison's eyes light up as if he were thinking something lewd. “Tony, the victim's prints are on your desk. Get me something on them soon.”

She felt the men watching the sway of her hips as she walked away.

“Yup, she has super powers,” Tony said.

Aspen settled in behind her desk and turned on the computer. She began by checking her email account, then she made a call to Monticello Junior High School, who transferred her to the Cleveland Heights Board of Education.

“Board of Education, how may I direct your call?”

“Records.” She sipped her coffee hoping it satisfied her jones.

“Hold please.” After a few aggravating minutes of bullshit phone music, a male voice said, “Records, Brendyn Harris speaking.”

Aspen heard the youthfulness of his voice and figured that Brendyn wasn't older than twenty-one. “Brendyn, this is Detective Aspen Skye with the Cleveland Police Department.”

Brendyn was quiet for way too long. “Ah.” He fumbled again. “Ah…how can I help you, Detective?”

Aspen was very intuitive. She peeped Brendyn's apprehension. He must have, for some reason, figured that this call was in direct relation to him. So you're a bad boy, Aspen thought. “I'm investigating a murder and I'm wondering if you can help me compile a list of names. Male students who attended Monticello during the years of—” She did a quick calculation of the years the killer would have been in junior high based on her profile. “—ninety-two through ninety-five.”

Brendyn let out a deep breath. “That has to be a huge list.” He sounded so relieved.

I wonder what you're hiding, Brendyn, Aspen thought. “I can narrow it.”

“How so?”

“Only the males who lived between Cain Park and Euclid Heights Boulevard, roughly a twenty-block radius.”

“That simplifies things, but I'll have to check with my supervisor and he won't be in until Monday.”

“Brendyn, did you read the headlines this morning?”

“No, ma'am. But I know what you're talking about. Everybody is worrying about it.”

“Then we don't have time for the mumbo jumbo. I'm not asking for their file, just names.”

Brendyn hesitated. “How do I know you're really a cop?”

“Because I know all about the mess you're caught up in.”

“Detective Skye, I swear to God it wasn't my weed. I was just giving those guys a ride to the Steel Yard.” Then: “If my mother finds out, she'll take my car and I'll have to catch the bus to school and work.”

“You know what, Brendyn, I'll forget about your marijuana troubles if you give me the names.”

“You swear?”

“Girl Scout's honor.”

“It'll take me at least an hour to search the records.”

“Got a pen?”

“Yeah, shoot.”

“My number is 216-619-2009. I'll expect those names in an hour.”

T
he entire world around them was mute. It was nothing more than images, colors, motion, perception, and touch. They stood in front of the Wellness Center dressed for a rigorous yoga session. After reading the “Family Emergency” note stuck to the door, the man turned to his wife and spoke to her in sign language. She frowned, disappointed, then knocked on the Wellness Center's door for good measure anyway. When no one answered, they strolled up Superior Avenue holding an intense conversation in sign language.

•  •  •

“Please help me! Somebody help me,” Anderson screamed. “He's got a gun!”

Through clenched teeth, Chance said, “Open your pussy eaters again and I'll go out in a blaze of glory starting by killing you. Then I'll shoot through this door and kill whoever's on the other side of it.” He raised the gun to Anderson's head. “Choose.”

Anderson remained silent.

“Good answer, shithead.” Chance's heart was giving him a good pounding. He hadn't punished everyone involved with plotting to ruin his family life yet. Now was not the time to get caught; it would defeat the purpose and spoil the spectacular ending. He
eased to the window and to his amazement, he watched a hearing-impaired couple through a slight opening in the venetian blinds, as he realized he had broken out in a sweat. When the couple walked away, he turned back to Anderson. “I don't think they heard you. Dude, you're gonna pay for that big-time.”

“I'm terrified.” A tear ran down Anderson's face.

“You should be.”

“I don't know what got into me.”

“Knock it off.” Chance tossed the syringe on the floor in front of Anderson. “Don't touch it or I'll plug you one.”

“I need it.”

“Moron, I need all the answers. Talk before you really upset me.”

Anderson thought back to his college days. “A week after Valentine's Day you announced that you and Cash were getting married.”

“T
hey're getting what?” Jazz was outraged. Her smoldering gaze landed on everyone in the room. “They don't even know each other well enough to get married.”

“She didn't tell you,” Yancee said, tying on a do-rag.

“No, we've only been hanging out for a little over a week.” Jazz flopped down on the futon between Anderson and Leon. She held Leon's hand so everyone could see as he had instructed her to. “Cash isn't exactly trusting of people. She hasn't told me much of anything. She's a real piece of work the way she isolates herself.” Then: “I can tell this, though, I notice she's changing. It's like she's coming to life, unthawing or something since she went out with Chance. When she does talk to me, Chance is the topic and her face lights up.”

“Hate to admit it,” Leon said, “but Chance is the same way. He's living and breathing Cash.”

“Then you need to fix this mess, Leon,” Anderson said. “Your little joke backfired. People stand to get hurt behind this if the truth comes out later than sooner.”

“Why does it have to come out at all?” Leon stood and paced. “Cash obviously isn't telling him, why should we?”

“I know you're not that fucked up. First of all,” Yancee said, “it ain't a we thing; it's a you thing. And you can't let this go on. You couldn't possibly feel good about it. What part of they're getting married this weekend at the courthouse don't you understand?”

“Then you break their hearts, Mr. Morals,” Leon said. “Go ahead and snatch Cupid's arrow out.”

“I didn't put them in a fucked-up position, you did.”

Anderson said, “Yeah, this is on you. Man up, homeboy.”

Jazz didn't open her pretty mouth. Translation:
It wasn't her business when it started; it still ain't her business now.

“Everyone is focused on what I so-called did wrong and not on what became of it.”

“You're so full of shit. I don't believe what I'm hearing.” Yancee shook his head. “You're manipulative and you know I know it. So don't sit here and try to justify this. It's wrong, plain and simple.”

“Sometimes you can turn a negative situation into a positive,” Jazz said.

“I ain't trying to hear that. You and Leon like each other. If you knew what I know, you'd find somebody else to like. But since you don't know no better, you're amorously sticking up for him. For all we know, y'all might run off to the courthouse and get married.”

Jazz rolled her beautiful brown eyes at Yancee.

“No way Jose,” Anderson said. “That ain't happening. Aunt Alice will kill me.”

“You know what, Yancee? Your opinions about me don't make me shit. And you and Anderson need to stay out of my business with Jazz. She made it clear that she's grown.” Leon looked between the two of them. “Now that we have that straight. All I was trying to say is no matter what the circumstances, Chance and Cash found love. The real gift. The wrong thing to do is interfere with that. I'm not. If I do that, then I'd be doing the same thing he did to me.” He paused. “Naw, I'm not down with that.”

They all stared at Leon with rapt attention.

Leon said, “If either of you wants to be their killjoy, be my motherfucking
guest. But I'm warning you that I'm taking this to my grave. Should either one of you moral crusaders bring it to light before then, I'll deny it and make you look like the bad guy.”

“Sometime I'm ashamed I even know you,” Yancee said. “You're seriously fucked up.”

“To the grave.” Leon held out a fist.

“Only 'cause you leave me no other choice,” Anderson said and bumped his fist against Leon's. “To the grave.”

“One day, Leon, I swear your hesitation to do the right thing is gonna get somebody killed.” Yancee put his fist on the pile. “To the grave.”

Everyone looked at Jazz.

“How many times do I have to tell y'all that this ain't none of my business? I met Chance once. I'm new, remember? I unknowingly walked into this because my cousin introduced me to y'all.”

Anderson said, “But this situation is how you and Cash became friends, and you're part of our circle now.”

Leon gave her an intimidating stare that made her look away. “You are down with me, right?”