Black 01 - Black Rain Read online

  “I know you brothas are probably looking at me and wondering how a sexy black woman in all her fineness could possibly be in the FBI. All full-figured with plenty of me for someone to love? Well, let’s just say, it’s not what you got, but how you use it, honey!”

  Vernon shakes his head and smiles. “You must use it very well. You a whole lot of woman, and I bet twice as smart. You were slick enough to get in here on Joe and me, and that’s damn good. If you’re good enough for the FBI, baby, you’re good enough for me.”

  “Vernon, you’re so sweet. So, let me tell you a little about myself. I finished high school in Opelousas, Louisiana, at thirteen at the top of my class. I played and lettered in basketball and track. I finished Yale when I was seventeen and had my master’s degree at Stanford when I was nineteen. After that I entered the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia. I’m a black belt in karate, kung fu and jujitsu, and I took the domino cham-pionship in Jackson, Mississippi, last year. Vernon, I heard you’ve got some skills and I can’t wait to spank that ass,” she says as she snaps her fingers. “I don’t talk a lot of stuff, but I do like to party and have fun. I have Vincent Alexandria

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  a younger brother and sister and I love to travel. Well, Vernon, I think you need to go in the bathroom and wash that ass. Let me know if you need some help, sweetie?

  I want to take you, Joe, Pretty Kevin, St. Louis Slim, Mo-Mo and Little Tiny to breakfast. My treat,” she says, winking at us.

  Vernon’s mouth and mine drop open simultaneously.

  Vernon’s eyebrows are raised and he’s blushing, “How in the hell…”

  “Because I’m just damn good,” Agent Duvall, with her hands on her hips, says, “A woman always does her homework. A hundred dollars can buy a lot of information,” she says, laughing as she walks over and knocks hard on the connecting door to the fellas’ suite.

  “What?!” someone yells.

  “Get y’all’s asses up! We’re going to breakfast!”

  The door swings open. The motley crew are all standing in their boxer shorts, wondering who this woman is holding two guns in their faces.

  “Good morning, gentleman. Just look at all this chocolate up in here! This is how a woman is supposed to wake up in the morning! And Mo-Mo? Looks like you all excited this morning! Put that thing away, before you hurt somebody!”

  Vernon and Joe are cracking up laughing as Mo-Mo quickly turns and disappears back into the room. Pretty Kevin just looks at Vernon and me. “Oh, so y’all got jokes this morning! I like your style, sistah. You’re all that and a bag of chips. But don’t get too cocky up in here. I’d hate to have to spank that ass!”

  “Can I watch?” St. Louis Slim asks as Agent Duvall gives him a sarcastic smirk.

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  She goes up and pinches St. Louis Slim on the cheek.

  “Sure, you can watch me spank Pretty Kevin’s ass, sugar.

  That’ll turn me on, too,” she says, smiling at Pretty Kevin.

  We all burst out laughing.

  Pretty Kevin taps his feet on the floor gazing at all of us with a blank expression. “That shit wasn’t funny, she just flipped the script. All right, brown sugar, you got me on that one, but watch your back, sweet mama.

  I might be sneaking up on ya.”

  “Promises, promises,” Agent Duvall responds.

  The fellas shut their door to get dressed. Vernon grabs his things and goes into the bathroom while I take about twenty minutes to give Agent Duvall all the critical information on Dread, our mission on this case and last night’s events. Then I see her to the door so she can freshen up for our busy day. Her room is just down the hallway.

  She asked me several questions about Agent Cheryl Chase, but the one that I remembered most was, “Can Chase be trusted?”

  I’d really never taken the time to consider Chase’s current state of loyalty. I knew Vernon had his doubts. Sierra certainly was against Chase’s loyalty, and I understood that for me to get her out of this mess, I had to believe that she is on the straight and narrow with me. We’ve been through a lot together on other cases and she came through like a champ. Surely, that wouldn’t change.

  Now, Agent James is a totally different can of worms.

  He is one of those people that you know for a long time, but still can’t put a finger on what makes him tick.

  I’ve never considered him a friend, just an associate. I do have a sense of trust for him. Vernon thinks he’s an Uncle Tom who will sell us out if we can’t help him with Vincent Alexandria

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  one of his cases. He will never sacrifice himself for his colleagues.

  Agent James has always taken care of us, and has always been a man of his word. If I have to choose between him and Chase in the loyalty department, Chase would win hands-down. Maybe that’s what Chase counted on when she phoned me. I don’t know. Things are crazy, but I have my hunches and my gut instincts are what I trust the most.

  They’ve saved Vernon’s life and mine on multiple occasions. If I know anything, it’s to trust my judgments, listen to my instincts and pray to God that they’re right.

  I think of my father and what it must feel like to know you are going to die. Shit. Is this thought symbolic? For all I know, I’m walking into a trap right now. I actually could die before my father. But, if I keep up this thought process I’ll lose focus and get fucked up in the end. It’s tough, but I have to keep my wits about me.

  How does Dad feel knowing that he has to make peace with God and the world in such a short time?

  How lonely he must feel to be in excruciating pain as cancer consumes his body, yet, how comforting it must be to have his family by his side at all times, to reassure him that he’s not alone in his transition. What would I be thinking if my time came? What would I say to my children, how would I reflect on my life? What would I say to my wife? What would I say to my brothers, sisters and friends? I can hear my dad with a big smile stating his famous words, “Always give a person their flowers while they are still alive, so they can appreciate them,

  ’cause flowers don’t mean nothing when you’re dead.”

  I have to get back to my father and tell him how much he means to me, and how much I love him. I have 178

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  to make sure I give him his flowers while he’s still able to appreciate them. I wipe away the tears welling up in my eyes as Vernon enters the room.

  “You all right, partner?” he asks unwrapping a cigar and putting it into his mouth.

  I stand up and adjust my clothes. “Yeah, I’m cool.

  Just reminiscing.”

  “Joe, we’ll get back in time for you to talk with your dad. Right now, let’s talk about this Dread fella. You know he will have us walking into a trap.”

  “Yeah, he knows the area and if he has us driving, he’ll probably try and knock us off one by one. I’ll call and have Agent James have an FBI helicopter on standby at the Omaha airport. They should be able to get to us within minutes of our call. We’ll need a gunner in the air to assist us. We can handle this and see where it leads.”

  “That sounds like a good plan to me.”

  “Thanks for your friendship, Vernon. I’m glad you’re with me on this.”

  “You’re my friend, Joe. That’s what friends and partners do. They have each other’s back through thick and thin. Come on. Get your stuff, so we can get your hoodlum friends and eat breakfast before we go see Dread.”

  I grab the briefcase that has Dread’s men’s badges and guns in it, put on my suit jacket, call the fellas and Agent Duvall and head for the lobby of the hotel.

  We sit in the restaurant at the hotel and prepare to order breakfast. The waitress is a small white woman with a huge mole on her chin that has a single blond hair sticking out of it. Vernon is on my right and Pretty Kevin is on my left. Pretty Kevin nudges me in the ribs.

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  “Damn, man, I
sure hope that hair don’t end up in my eggs. You’d think she’d just yank that bastard or shave it off. She’d be half cute if not for that hair.”

  I chastise, “Kevin, you need to be ashamed of yourself. Why are you always talking about people?”

  Vernon leans toward us. “Man, I have to agree with PK, that mole is kind of grossing me out.” He frowns and puts his cigar in his mouth.

  St. Louis Slim sits across from us and he leans across the table to get into the conversation. “What are you guys whispering about over there?”

  He sits next to Pretty Kevin, Agent Duvall and Mo-Mo in our large circular booth.

  “None of your business.You need to be worrying about that sky-blue suit you’re wearing,” Pretty Kevin teases.

  St. Louis Slim puckers his lips and smirks. “PK, you’re just mad you can’t make this look good. I also know you’re talking about Olive Oyl, the hair lady, you smart bastard,” Sweet St. Louis Slim replies as he snaps his fingers at Pretty Kevin.

  Pretty Kevin leans back and frowns. “Dude, why I got to be a bastard? You didn’t know your daddy, either, so why are you snapping your fingers at me like some little bitch?”

  “Gentleman, such language at breakfast time. I know both your mothers would be embarrassed.” Agent Duvall shakes her head in dissatisfaction. “Can we just order, please?”

  “Yeah, just like Sweets to have a woman come to his rescue,” Pretty Kevin taunts.

  Sweet St. Louis Slim stops tucking his napkin into his collar. “I don’t need a woman taking up for me, but 180

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  that was sweet. Thanks, Agent Duvall, for saving Pretty Kevin from an awesome ass-whooping.

  We all start laughing.

  “Whatever!” Pretty Kevin exclaims.

  The waitress, now self-conscious, fidgets with her pen and pad. Mo-Mo sees her uneasiness.

  “We’re sorry, Ms. Ma’am. You fools need to grow up.

  Can we please order now?”

  Agent Duvall touches his hand, “Sure, sugar.”

  We all place our orders as we promise the waitress a large tip. As she walks away, Little Tiny puts in his order and joins us at the table.

  “What’s up, my people?” he says, smiling from ear to ear.

  Everybody at the table just looks at him and nobody says a word.

  He throws his hands in the air, “What? I’m not feelin’

  the love y’all…I’m not feelin’ the love.” He shrugs his shoulders and looks at everyone for support.

  Sweet St. Louis Slim and Pretty Kevin roll their eyes.

  “This has to be one of your friends, Joe. What’s up with this cat?” Sweet St. Louis asks.

  Agent Duvall reaches over and extends her hand to him. “You must be Jason Phillips. Agent James told me all about you.”

  Jason takes her hand and kisses it. “Agent Duvall, you can call me Little Tiny, and he told me about you, as well, but he didn’t tell me how lovely you are.”

  Mo-Mo pulls Duvall’s hand away from Little Tiny’s.

  “Yeah, all right Mr. Casanova, that’s enough slobbering for one day. Glad to meet you.”

  To my surprise, I see Mo-Mo getting protective. I Vincent Alexandria

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  make the proper introductions. “This is FBI Agent Jason Phillips, better known as Little Tiny. He’s cool. He helped me out with Dread’s men last night.”

  Pretty Kevin smacks his lips, “Well, if he helped you out so much last night, why do both of you have slap marks on your faces?” Everybody laughs.

  “Why does it have to be like that, dawg? We handled those goons last night. Back me up. Am I right Joe?”

  We give each other a high five.

  I puff out my chest, “Word, and we got their guns and badges to prove it.”

  Agent Duvall raises her hand, “That’s not what Vernon told me.” The table bursts into laughter again as Little Tiny and I stare at Vernon.

  “What?” Vernon asks as he blushes, and shrugs his shoulders.

  We finish the introductions, breakfast is served and we dig in.

  “Joe, you know, if this dude has us meeting him on his turf he is setting us up,” Mo-Mo says as he grabs his orange juice.

  “Yes, I’ve thought of that and it’s been brought to my attention several times. I have backup coming in the form of a helicopter from the FBI. All we have to do is keep our eyes peeled, stay alert, be cautious and be careful.”

  Everyone nods their heads. Mo-Mo and Agent Duvall are in their own conversation and both of them are blushing quite a bit. Sweet St. Louis gives Agent Duvall the once-over.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Agent Thang, but what are your intentions with my best buddy?” he inquires while adjust-ing the cuffs on his shirt.

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  She places her hand on top of Mo-Mo’s, “Whatever his gorgeous intentions are,” she answers, batting her thick eyelashes at Mo-Mo, never looking Sweet’s way.

  “Leave them alone, man. Why are you all up in grown folks’ business anyway?” Vernon complains.

  “Why you all up in mine?” Sweets shoots back, showing him the palm of his hand.

  Little Tiny starts laughing, “Damn, Sweets, you act like you’re jealous or something. I hope you ain’t no damn down-low brother.” We all just look at each other and start to giggle.

  Sweet St. Louis frowns and snaps his fingers at Little Tiny. “Listen, fat boy, there isn’t a down-low bone in this pretty body and you need to show me some respect. I might be your daddy.” Everyone bursts out laughing. “Mo-Mo’s like a little brother to me and I just don’t want to see him hurt. Is that all right with you, Mr. Man?”

  Little Tiny wipes his mouth with his napkin and sits back. “Dude, I was just saying, you were all out of order trying to get all up in your friend’s business. I didn’t know you had your pink panties in a knot, don’t be so damn sensitive. That’s all I’m saying. And I know you aren’t my father, so you can save that talk.”

  Sweet St. Louis snatches his napkin from his collar and throws it to the table. “Pink panties? Dude I will slap the taste out of your mouth and roll your fat ass down the block three times. You better get it right, dude.”

  Little Tiny snaps his fingers at Sweets, “Dude, I’m not fat and I’ve been working out. So watch your mouth. And why are you always threatening to slap Vincent Alexandria

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  somebody? You need to go head-on with that. And what’s up with that come-to-Jesus light-blue outfit you’re wearing?”

  Sweet St. Louis Slim’s complexion starts to turn strawberry red, “It’s sky-blue, you public-school, ig-norant bastard.”

  Mo-Mo interrupts, looking embarrassed, “Y’all both need to calm down. It ain’t even that serious. I’m cool, Sweets, thanks for your concern. The agent lady and I are just getting to know each other. It’s all good,” he says with reserved coolness. Agent Duvall just blushes, as Mo-Mo grabs her hands in his.

  “See, you guys have just spoiled my appetite with all this sentimental shit. Joe, I told you about these dudes.

  There is some weird shit going on here. It’s just not natural. Man, let me outta here. I’ll be in the front of the hotel,” Vernon complains as he gets up from the table.

  Pretty Kevin gets up shaking his head, “Yeah, I’m with Vernon on this one. Y’all need to be writing Hall-mark cards or something,” Pretty Kevin teases as he follows Vernon out of the restaurant.

  I look at the rest of my friends at the table. “Why are you guys talking junk about each other all the time?”

  Agent Duvall smiles. “I think it’s cute the way they look out for each other.”

  “Joe, you know how we do it, dude. We don’t mean any harm. We’re just having fun giving each other a hard time,” Mo-Mo explains.

  Little Tiny starts to mist up. “Man, I wish I had a friend like that. My brother and I were close, but he got killed in Iraq in the army. He stepped on a land mine. I never got close to anyone else after tha
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  mom and dad in Minnesota. It feels good to be hanging out with you guys. I feel the love, bro.”

  The table falls silent and everybody looks at Little Tiny.

  “What?” He sighs.

  “You cool, man, and sorry to hear about your brother, but don’t be getting all sappy on us,” I tease.

  “Whatever.” Little Tiny laughs as he wipes his eyes and pushes me in the arm. “Joe, you gonna eat that last piece of bacon, dude?”

  Mo-Mo smiles, “LT, I thought you were on a diet, dude?”

  “I never said I was on a diet, I said I was working out.

  Get it straight, man,” he answers, grabbing the bacon off my plate and devouring it.

  “Okay, people, let’s do this, and remember to be on high alert. Don’t fall too far behind us while we’re driving.” I feel a tremendous weight of responsibility for everyone involved. It’s a heavy load for my mind, that we’re facing mortal danger, but we have all committed to see this through.

  Everyone agrees and we head for the exit. Little Tiny has the waitress charge the bill to the room and tells her to include a fifty-dollar tip for herself. When we get outside, Sweet St. Louis Slim stops us.

  “Wait!”

  Vernon asks with concern, “What’s up, Sweets?”

  “Damn, I look good,” Sweets says as he makes a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree spin, and brushes off both sleeves of his sky-blue jacket.

  Vernon takes his cigar out of his mouth and holds it between his big fingers. “Dude, you look like a big-ass piece of blue Jell-O.”

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  Everybody rolls their eyes at Sweet St. Louis Slim as we laugh and walk toward our vehicles.

  “Ain’t nobody bad like me!” Sweets yells as he smooths out his jacket and gives everyone the finger.

  Chapter 12

  Chase sits alone in her room at Dread’s estate. She has only considered suicide once before, when her parents died. She was sixteen years old and she held the bottle of aspirin in her hands with the cold glass of water, but could not force herself to take them. She threw the bottle against the wall. As it shattered, the white pills flew everywhere, just as her life did upon her parents’ death.