

Piece Keeper

# Antwan Floyd Sr.
Piece Keeper

Copyright © 2014 by Antwan Floyd Sr.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.

Book cover designed by Bleeding Pen Graphics

www.bleedingpenpublishing.com
Also by Antwan Floyd Sr.

Crew Love

Crew Love II "The Black Mob"

The Addiction an Anthology

Wild 100's

Sperm Donor

The Last Transmission of a Gangster

12 Months of Murder "Introduction to Seduction"

Dear Diary, the Bleeding Pen Entries

Dedicated 2

Darryl "DatniggaLilMoe" Davis, Tyrone Turner Jr., Kip, Michael Howard, James Span Jr., Deon Davis, Auntie Lee-Lee, Chevelia Floyd, Auntie Renee & Auntie Pat.

Prologue

The streets were desolate and cold. James shook off the chill that shot through his bones as he pulled the skull cap slightly down over his eyebrows not leaving very much of his face to be seen. He took his time moving to the ATM machine. He had transferred a small portion of his money from the off shore account to his account in the states. He had been in Burr Ridge for almost a week now. Nothing or no one, other than Witherspoon, was connecting him to what happened to Teresa or the others he'd dumped in the river over the past year. He knew Witherspoon would never speak and their employer had no idea who it was and didn't want to know. He felt bad about not trying to bring Teresa. He contemplated that she was better off without him. He slid the bank card into the machine, keyed in the code followed by the amount he wanted to withdraw, and then waited for the machine to spit the bills out. Once the money was out he retrieved his cash and card and went back to his car. He had nothing to worry about yet he still felt compelled to get out of Illinois. He wanted to see his sister before he left because he didn't know when he would see her again. As he climbed into his car and started the engine he heard the sound of a click behind his head.

"You can have the money and car," he said.

The person behind him remained silent.

James spoke again. "It doesn't have to end badly. I haven't seen your face so you can just take the cash and go. Everyone's happy."

"This isn't just a robbery," the woman's said as she pulled the trigger.
Chapter One

"You scream and I'll cut your fucking throat," the chief of detectives of Vermillion County in Danville, IL whispered in Teresa Prince's ear as he pressed the serrated hunting knife across her throat.

She squealed as a thin sliver of blood ran down her neck dripping onto her blouse. His cologne invaded her nostrils. Her gag reflexes made her feel as if she may vomit as she felt his sweaty palms grasp at her thighs making his way up her leg and underneath her skirt trespassing against her body encroaching upon her soul. Her face was a wet pallet of tears and snot.

"Please don't... don't do this," she begged as she felt the thin material covering her vagina rip free. Her body tensed up, the hairs on every inch of her body stood as she felt his rough calloused hands between her legs. Her hips jerked as she felt him jab his thick fingers into her.

"Help me! Please don't let him do this to me," she pleaded once more barely audible to the demented audience that stood watching.

Teresa didn't know what hurt her more. The fact that she was being violated or the painful truth of not only was it happening in a police station but by the very people she paid her taxes to that were supposed to protect her. She held her breath as she felt him enter her from behind. The other officers in the room stood around cheering him on as he grunted and pounded into her until his fluid squirted inside her body. Stepping back gasping for breath, Chief Witherspoon pulled his pants up from around his ankles with his salt and pepper hair matted to his pasty pale face from his sweat.

"My turn," Officer Hunter said making his way towards

Teresa.

"Stand down officer," Officer Foster said placing a hand on Hunter's chest pushing him back. "She's mine."

Foster had to go through a series of things to prepare: remove service weapon placing it on the table, unzipping pants to let them fall to the floor, pulling out a strap on penis from the open bag next to the service weapon. The others watched as Foster wrapped the strap-on around her waist, fastened it, and then approached Teresa with a glimmer in her eye. Grasping Teresa by the waist as she shivered in fear Foster guided her hips thrusting forward forcefully into Teresa's buttocks. With each dry painful thrust Teresa cried out in agony as the woman sodomized her. Teresa wanted desperately to fight back yet she lay motionless with her face and chest against the table while her body and mind were paralyzed with fear. She took the mental, emotional, and physical abuse in fear that if she fought back she may die.

Each of the three officers took turns with the young woman who had been hired only months earlier as an intern. Through it all, including the hurt and humiliation, she felt the worst and most sickening feeling of all. It was something she could never shake. Goosebumps raced across her flesh as the creepy feeling took root and grew inside her mind. She could feel him watching her. The feeling would keep her awake for a lifetime though she didn't know who he was.
Chapter two

A Week Later

Teresa sat on the hospital bed at Carle Foundation covered in a backless nightgown and staring emotionlessly at nothing in particular. James Collins, an officer and her mentor at the department, sat near her bed. Feelings of confusion and anger stirred inside him. He didn't know whether to sit quietly or to hold her hand and attempt to console her. He chose the latter; he reached out placing his hand on top of hers. She quickly pulled from his grasp placing both of her hands on her chest. James pulled back and stood up, stepping away from the bed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"James, I..."

The door opened and the person she wanted desperately to see stood in the door way. She prayed he would come, yet she still had her reservations that he would. Standing in the door way it was almost as if God himself shined a heavenly light upon his physique. It was her ex-fiancé, Black Love. They hadn't spoken to one another in almost a year. She had broken off the engagement through a text message then left Chicago and moved back to Danville. Black had a smaller stature as he was short in height standing at only five and a half feet. His frame was not muscular but also not scraggly. He worked out just enough to stay toned. He had a bald head, dark chocolate complexion, a goatee and white teeth.

Teresa could see the anger and hurt in his eyes. She couldn't help but peek over his shoulders. She could see that the hallway outside of her room was crowded with uniformed police officers from her precinct. She turned her head in fear as she made eye contact with Chief Witherspoon just as the door closed. The look of fear on her face was not missed by either of the two men but they both interpreted it differently.

James moved across the room quickly to head Black off before he reached Teresa. "She doesn't want you here," he said sizing Black up with his fists clenched.

Black didn't back down. He stared up at James unmoved by his police uniform or his size. He was almost two feet taller and at least a hundred pounds heavier. "Back up, James. It's a little late to play hero. You should have been here to protect her that night."

"Who the hell are you and..."

"Stop it! Both of you!" Teresa screamed with her face wet with tears. "James."

He quickly turned and went to her side, retaking his seat. He thought of reaching for her hand but decided against it this time. "What is it my love?"

"Give me and Black sometime alone please. We need to talk."

"But I—"

"Please."

James sighed and stood to his feet. Black stood between him and the door unwilling to move. James brushed against his shoulder as he stormed from the room.

"How did you find out?" Teresa asked wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand.

"The same way I knew your boyfriend's name."

"He's not my boyfriend and you have no right to keep tabs on me, Black. We aren't together anymore."

"You're my girl."

Teresa laughed. "Your girl? Did you not get the text message... oh what... a year ago?"

Black's nose flared. That emotional wound still hadn't healed. "Together or not you'll always be my girl."

"And what about Morena?"

Black cleared his throat. "Morena?" He was surprised that she had known about her.

"Don't look confused. What? Suddenly you don't know who Morena Suarez is?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Why are you worried about what's going on with me here in another city when you are not only living with another woman, only a year after our break up, but you're engaged to be married?"

Black approached the bed and sat down on the side of it placing his hand on her face. He brushed the hair from her eyes. "That's not important, Baby Love." That was his pet name he'd given her when they first started dating.

She pushed his hand from her face. "I'm not your Baby Love. Not anymore." She turned her face from his.

With both hands he gently cupped her face and turned it so that they could see eye to eye.

"I'm not leaving until I get to the bottom of this. That fucker who did this to you is going to pay!"

"Leave it alone, Black."

Black jumped to his feet. "Leave it alone!" he screamed without realizing.

Teresa placed her hand on his. "I know you're upset but I just want this all to be over with."

"It will be as soon as I—"

"Go home, Black. I don't want you here."

"Want me here or not I'm not leaving until justice is served. I've been re-assigned to the District Attorney's office in Vermillion County."

"You're the new District Attorney?" She was astonished.

"No I'm A.D.A., but I'm on the case."

"Black I—"

"Get some rest. I'm done talking about it. I just got here. I didn't even pack any clothes. I'm going shopping to pick up a few things to wear and some hygienic essentials then I'm going to see someone about renting a house for a few months. I'll be back tomorrow to pick you up and take you home."

"It's not necessary."

"It is." He placed her hand to his lips and kissed it. "See you tomorrow."
Chapter Three

James sat alone in his apartment scouring the internet for any information he could about Black Love. He knew that's who had come to see Teresa today. They had never met but the few times that he and Teresa had gone out that man was all she talked about. Black this, Black that. What the hell kind of name was Black Love anyway? So what they were once engaged! To hell with they're history! That's exactly what they had: history. I'm her future, he thought as he read through the newspaper article he found online in a Chicago newspaper. The headline read: Black Love District Attorney for Cook County Convicts Kingpin of Regional Drug Ring That Included Chicago, Detroit, and Racine, WI. He clicked another link to a website with Black's name attached to it. The website opened to an article about a battered women's shelter that Black co-founded with Teresa. The article showed a picture of the two of them hugging and smiling.

James felt the anger swell in his head as he stared at the picture. He felt his temples on both sides of his head become tighter and tighter as if his head was trapped in a vice grip. His heart pounded as beads of sweat popped up wetting his forehead. Blood dripped from his nose. He didn't like the idea of another man touching her. It was all he could think of while staring at the picture. Things were escalating in his mind. No matter what he did he kept reliving the pain wrenching night. Even now the horrible memory crept into his mind despite his will for it to go away. He closed his eyes and remembered.

Flashback

The red Sedan with the shiny rims cruised to a sudden stop, shifted into reverse and parked. The night was quiet as the driver sat and watched, nervously looking through his rearview mirror every few seconds. He desperately wanted to be accepted into the circle. He was told to meet them in the catacombs for his "initiation" as they had put it. He had his reservations about going. He had been warned by others he worked with that being a part of the club meant quick advancements through the ranks but the things they did on the side were unethical at the least and in the worst illegal. Once in there was no out. Out, he thought. Why would I want out? He had done a few jobs already off the books. Just low level stuff like getting rid of a few scum bags. He had no issues with getting his hands dirty by digging a hole or sandbagging a body for the Middle Fork Vermilion River which connected Danville to Oglesby. They always had him meet to pick up the "passenger". That's what they called the body he needed to dispose of: "the passenger". It was always at a different place but this time was a little different. He was to meet at the catacombs. The thought alone made him feel uneasy. He began to wheeze so he removed his asthma inhaler and took two puffs. Within moments he felt his breathing begin to regulate. He was almost thirty minutes late and he was sure that they had begun without him, doing whatever it is that they did. Just as he worked up the nerve to get out of the car and go into the building he heard a ruckus behind him. Stepping out of the car he removed a flashlight from the side compartment of his driver's door. He flashed the light in the direction that he heard the noise coming from and the person froze throwing up their hands in front of their face in an attempt to block the light. He lowered the light.

"What are you doing out here, Brown?" the man asked referring to the homeless man by his last name.

"You know... just doing me, Officer. Nice wheels. How long you had her?"

"Not long. Look Brown you know we told you about bothering people out here."

"Ah man! Ain't nobody bothering nobody."

"Let's keep it that way. Now get on down the road."

"I'm going, I'm going," the elderly homeless man said as he scuffled past the owner of the Sedan.

He watched until he saw that Brown was out of sight then made his way around the back of the police station to an old shed. The department should have torn it down years ago. That's how old towns were; always holding on to a piece of the past. Walking in, he pushed an old desk to the side revealing a hidden trap door. Lifting the old metal door he froze halfway through the process as he heard the door squeak. Once he was sure no one was watching he climbed into the hole and closed the door behind him. Very few knew about the secret passage. It was once used as a stop along the Underground Railroad for slaves escaping from the south. Walking down the damp corridor he came upon a door. He pressed his ear against it and listened before opening it. He heard voices but could not make out what it was they were saying. Now or never, he thought as he slowly opened the door. He was here at the catacombs.

Tip-toeing closer and closer to where he heard the voices he ducked behind a row of shelves and watched. He knew he should have intervened but he couldn't. His legs wouldn't move. He felt catatonic. He began to wheeze once more. Taking two puffs from his inhaler, he wiped the blood dripping from his nose on the sleeve of his jacket. It smeared on his inhaler as he stuffed it back into his pocket. He heard the voices cease. Someone asked about a noise in the back of the room and footsteps moved towards his direction. He easily backed away and made his way back to the hidden tunnel. As he climbed from the hole he could had sworn that he saw eyes in the dark looking at him. Rushing through the darkness, he hadn't heard his inhaler fall from his pocket. He flashed the flashlight behind him, letting it sweep the area. Finding no one he figured he was being paranoid so he went back inside closed the door in the floor and returned the desk to its original position. He walked swiftly from the shed back to his car, got in, turned the ignition, and sped from the scene.

Back in the shed, Brown stepped from the shadows he'd been hiding in, thankful that he hadn't been caught. Bending down he picked up the inhaler and dropped it in the shoulder knapsack that he carried his worldly possessions in. He had been around long enough to know whatever the cop was up to climbing out of that hole was none of his business and he would make sure it stayed that way.

Current Day

James snapped back into the here and now. He had a problem and he was determined to fix it. He should've never left them alone. Flashes of the two of them in the hospital room invaded his mind. He could picture her bent over the hospital bed with her backless gown still on and Black behind her pounding deep into his woman.

James became so blind with rage that he flipped over the desk his computer was on. As the computer monitor hit the floor James kicked it across the room then quickly jumped on top of it stomped and smashing the device it until the broken fragments of the monitor were all over the floor. In the aftermath, he stood panting and sweating. His eyes were wild and blood was beginning to dry in the hairs of his mustache. Teresa will be mine, he thought. At any cost.

He went to his room and picked up his Bible. With it clutched underneath his arm James laid in his bed trying his best to turn off his mind. He hadn't had these thoughts in years. Having them now made him feel weak and defenseless. He was even beginning to have the re-occurring nightmares and nose bleeds again. Here he was a grown man almost afraid to go to bed alone at night. He fought off the urge to take his sleeping pills. He had gone down that road of addiction during his college years. It did no good. The only thing that seemed to offer him any peace was reading scriptures from the Bible.

That still didn't stop him from blaming himself; for not helping Teresa. What could he have done? It was useless. He was useless, just as he was as a boy. I'm still a boy, he thought. He remembered it like it was yesterday; standing idle as he watched his step-father molest his sister. He was 13 years old. He should have done something then and he should have done something for Teresa. He curled into a ball, bible still wrapped in his arms, and cried. His sister had forgiven him years ago. She'd told him that they were both children so how could she blame him. Still he had never forgiven himself. The right thing needed to be done; he just didn't know what that was yet. But no matter what he did in life he was determined to do whatever it took to make things right for Teresa; whatever it took to make things right for himself.

***

Early the next morning Teresa awoke suddenly from her sleep. She was having a nightmare about being attacked yet in the dream her rapists were all faceless. The sound in the room was muted except for the faint sound of air being sucked in and quickly exhaled. The sound emanated from a silhouette in the back of the room. She could feel him watching her. Just as a sense of familiarity set in and she thinks she knows who the voyeur is, her eyes popped open and darted around her hospital room. She could feel the cold sweat consuming her body. Startled, she grabbed her chest surprised to find Black sitting in the chair across from her watching her sleep.

"What the hell man?" she blurted out annoyed.

"Sorry I startled you. You looked so peaceful that I didn't want to wake you."

She sighed. "It's alright. What time is it? How long have you been here?"

"It's almost 9 A.M. I've been here since 7:00."

"I forgot you were an early riser."

"You hungry? Can I get you anything?"

"I really could go for some of your famous fried fish."

Black laughed. "At nine in the morning?"

"Well, you asked."

"I did. Whatever you want, you'll have." Standing and walking over to her bed, he placed her hand in his. Looking down at her hand he saw that she was still wearing the engagement ring that he'd given her a year ago.

She quickly pulled her hand from his and tucked both of her hands underneath the sheets to hide her hands. He thought she had thrown it away. He saw the embarrassment in her eyes. There was an awkward silence and she turned her glance from his.

He cleared his throat to speak but she spoke first. "Can I have some time to get dressed please?"

Black nodded silently then turned and left the room closing the door behind him. He stopped the approaching doctor before he entered Teresa's room. "You mind if I have a word with you doctor? I'm Black Love, Assistant District Attorney working on this case."

Black flashed his badge to the doctor.

The doctor, a gray haired Pakistani man with a salt and pepper beard, spoke with a lisp. "Yes'th. Of course'th. There isn't much to say. Like I told the detectives working the case, there was tearing of her vaginal walls and anus but that could also be conducive to rough sex'th."

"Are you saying she made this up?"

"I'm not saying anything but what it appears to be."

"What about fluids or hairs?"

"When she came in she didn't remember when this had happened. True she was found in an alley over a week ago but someone went through a lot of extremities to clean her up. Any evidence that may have been there is long gone."

"Is that all you can tell me?"

"I'm afraid so." The doctor turned and knocked on Teresa's door then entered without further discussion.

Black stood in the hall. He had yet to meet with the officer in charge of the investigation. He figured he'd get Teresa home and settled then drive over to the station and have a face to face.
Chapter Four

James pulled into the parking space reserved for doctors at Carle Foundation. He figured he'd be in and out and since he was driving the squad car it shouldn't be a problem. Turning the engine off and grabbing the take-out bag from the passenger's seat, he climbed out of the car and closed the door. He figured he would surprise Teresa by picking her up from the hospital and taking her home. He had stopped by Leon's over on Bowman Avenue and got her something to eat before heading to the hospital. As he approached the entrance the automatic doors slid open and Teresa was pushed out in a wheelchair by Black. Feet frozen, James stared down at Teresa like a deer caught in headlights. He squeezed the bag so tightly the juices from the food began to run through his fingers and down his wrist. The three stood in silence for several seconds although it felt like hours to James. He didn't know whether to blow up on Black for being there or Teresa for leaving with the man so he just stood there.

"James, I—" She attempted to get her words out and break the awkward silence but before she could finish he dropped the bag in her lap and stormed off.

"What the hell is your problem, Jack!?" Black yelled out letting go of the chair and heading for James.

Teresa began rolling after him with her arms flailing. Black stopped mid-stride, doubled back, and grabbed the chair.

With one hand on her chest and the other on Black's arm she pleaded with him. "Black, don't..."

"Are you sure you two aren't messing around?" he asked.

"It's complicated, but no."

"Don't you think that jackass needs to know that too?"

Teresa pushed the soggy bag onto the ground. "You ready to go, Black?"

He stood watching as James whipped the squad car out of the lot with the siren blaring.

"Go after him," she said. "I'll find a way home."

He didn't respond. He simply pushed her towards his rental, opened the passenger door for her, closed it after she was in, walked around to the driver's side, climbed in, and pulled off. There was no need for him to go after James. He knew they'd cross paths again and it wouldn't be pretty.

***

The black SUV Black rented coasted along the freshly laid asphalt. The neighborhood was quiet and serene. It was a big change from the fast paced busy streets of Chicago. It might have been nice had it not been for the circumstances surrounding his visit. It was awkward riding with her. It seemed every time he tried to dialogue with her it turned into an argument. They had yet to discuss what happened between the two of them let alone talk about what happened to her. He'd dealt with rape victims before so he knew before he even arrived in Danville what type of victim she would be. It was one of the reasons he loved and hated her at the same time. She never let go or allowed herself to open up and show her emotions. He knew she was hurting and she had yet to show him any pain.

They rode in silence. He felt like a shy school boy on a date for the first time with a girl. She stared blankly out the window. Eyes still on the road, he eyed her from his peripheral. Even in sweats with her hair pulled back in a ponytail she looked beautiful to him. The bone structure of her face and her bronze skin tone put him in the mind of the actress Nicole Beharie. Where had he gone wrong? If he had he been able to keep her happy, they would have been married and he could have kept her safe. He was so caught up in beating himself up that he almost passed by the house he was renting.

As he pressed the button on the garage door opener clipped to the sun visor above his head the garage door opened and he pulled in. Teresa unfastened her seatbelt and opened her door. Turning the engine off and getting out of the truck Black moved quickly to open the door leading into the house. After they were both inside he closed and locked the door. Teresa took her time walking down the hall towards the living room. Her sneakers squeaked with each step she made against the freshly waxed hardwood floors. She took in the aroma of lemon pledge. Her eyes darted back and forward trying to take in as much as she could. The walls were lined with different art pieces from fauvism and impressionism to abstract and realism. From the quick glances she stole she could barely decide which she liked better. Stepping into the living room her feet sank into the plush white carpet. Instinctively she raised her head staring up at the high ceilings. Glass stretched across the room. She sighed at the beautiful view of the clouds which painted the home a beautiful white and blue.

"Take a look around if you like. This will be home....for a while anyway," Black said matter-of-factly.

With her right eyebrow raised she sat on the stool in front of the island in the kitchen.

"Home? I'm not staying here."

"The hell you aren't. You're not going home. I won't allow it."

"Allow it? You're not my daddy. Look here, Black, I know what you're trying to do."

"And that would be what?"

"What we had was a long time ago."

Black opened the refrigerator and removed a bottle of apple juice. Shaking the bottle he hit the bottom with his palm then twisted the cap until he heard a pop. "A year is a long time ago?" he asked eyeing her.

"A year can be a lifetime."

He removed the cap and took a swig. "Hmmm."

Teresa scrunched her face annoyingly. "Hmm? That's all you have to say?"

"Hmm."

She threw her hands in the air.

He continued. "Are you done with what you think I'm trying to do?"

She folded her arms across her chest and nodded.

"What I'm trying to do is make sure you're safe and that what happened to you doesn't happen to someone else."

"I didn't ask you to do any of those things."

"That's what love is... doing what needs to be done without being asked."

"Don't talk to me about love, Black. We aren't that cool."

He took the final swig from his bottle and tossed it in the nearby trash. "Fair enough. You don't have to decide now... just think about it. Take a look around the place and try to relax. I'm going to get started cooking."

Teresa half-heartedly smiled as she slid from the stool and went off to explore the house. Walking down the three steps from the kitchen into the living room she felt chill bumps prickle her neck as the central air kicked in. It must be set by a timer, she thought as she ran her hand across the back of her neck. Cocaine white suede was the color of the sectional that sat in the spacious living room. A 62 inch television was mounted to the wall. Looking around the living room she spotted surround sound speakers mounted in each corner of the room. Across the room were sliding glass doors. She slid the blinds to the side and looked out into the backyard. A gas grill sat near the pool. She also took note of the crotch rocket and basketball court. Making her way down the hall past the restroom and two rooms with closed doors, which she assumed were guest rooms, she came upon a flight of stairs.

Going up the stairs she followed the path down the hall peeking her head into the first bedroom that she came upon. There she saw men's clothes scattered on the floor, several shopping bags, and three boxes of shoes, two from foot locker and one from Macy's which she assumed were dress shoes. This has to be Black's room, she thought before continuing on down the hall. The door to the room directly next to Black's was cracked. She slightly pushed it open and saw that the room was filled with pink and red roses as well as pink and red balloons. She smiled as she stepped further into the room. She plucked a single pink rose from one of the vases and inhaled the scent. She laughed as she walked over to the bed. There was twice the amount of shopping bags on her bed than she'd seen in Black's room. Propped up against the bags was a box with a bow on it. She was hesitant about opening it because she didn't know what his intentions were. She did not want to accept anything he offered because she didn't want to lead him to believe that there was a chance of the two of them getting back together again. Lifting the top to the box she looked down inside and felt a shortness of breath as her eyes watered with tears. Picking it up and looking at it she smiled and rushed to the bathroom to change.

After changing into the gift from Black her spirits were lifted a bit. She knew that eventually the topic of conversation would change to who raped her or worse what happened between the two of them. To be honest she couldn't decide which subject was more painful to speak on. She followed her senses down the stairs, through the living room, and back into the kitchen. The smell of fresh fried catfish made her mouth water and stomach dance with anticipation. As she stepped into the kitchen he had his back to her. But as he turned to face her she noticed he had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and he donned an apron that said "Irish do it best".

He smiled when he saw her wearing the gift he got her. "I see you found your room."

She rolled her eyes and smiled. "You did too much."

"Teresa—"

She cut him off midsentence. "But thank you... You remembered." She looked down at her pink pajama set.

"I remembered."

"Where did you find 'em?"

"I'm the man. I make things happen remember?"

She pulled at the pajama top looking down at the cartoon character emblazoned across the front. "I can't believe you found a vintage Rainbow Bright pajama set." Although she was too young to have grown up on the popular cartoon from the 80's she was introduced to the character by her mother whom she often watched the VHS with before she died leaving her as an orphan. Teresa cherished the memories.

"You like it?"

"I love it. Thank you."

He turned back to the stove and flipped over the catfish with a pair of tongs. The doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," she told him. "Keep cooking."

"Wait," he said as he turned to face her.

"Yes?"

"So does this mean you're staying?"

"I'll stay, but..."

"But what?"

"Don't be expecting no booty." The bell rang again and she walked off holding up a finger. "Hold that thought."

He laughed to himself as he removed the last piece of fish from the skillet. He heard her as she approached the kitchen. With his back still turned he laughed. "Don't even go there, Girl. I ain't messing with you like that." He turned to face her, smiling from ear to ear, but suddenly felt his stomach do a somersault as the smile vanished and anxiety instantly kicked in. He stood face to face with Teresa who was standing next to his fiancé, Morena.

"Mess with her like what, Cariño?" That's what she called him. It meant love or passion in Spanish.

He cleared his throat. "Morena, what are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?"

"Yes. You know I have to work this case and—"

"And here I am getting in the way of you working." She eyed Teresa from head to toe then turned back to Black. "This case, huh?"

"It ain't even like that, Baby Love."

Teresa felt her heart crack as she stared at Black venomously. That was the pet name he'd given her and he now was calling another woman, his future wife, the same name? What an ass he was. She looked at Morena and thought, not only has she replaced me as his fiancée but she's being called the same name... something I thought was special between the two of us. She remained silent waiting to see what his response would be. While her eyes were still trained on Black she could feel Morena burning a hole in the side of her face. She had no idea what was going through the woman's mind. Teresa wondered if she would get buck and swing on her or not. Although Teresa had no intentions of sleeping with Black she doubted that Morena would believe her. Here she was in a house alone with him wearing pajamas while he cooked a meal for the two of them to share. It certainly seemed like a romantic setting and she would have thought the same.

"It's not what you think," Black stated.

"I think you're trying to fuck your ex!" Morena exclaimed.

"See that's what I meant."

"What is all this, Black?"

"Morena I—"

Teresa chuckled and threw her hands in the air before turning to leave.

"Teresa, wait!" Black shouted as he moved towards her.

Morena stepped in front of him blocking his path. "No you ain't about to chase her with me standing here."

"She needs me. I can't—"

"I'll be damned if you can't. That bitch is not sleeping under the same roof with my man."

Black heard the front door open and close. He wanted desperately to chase after her but he knew she'd never come back; not tonight anyway. He stared into Morena's smooth brown face. The hurt in her eyes softened his heart. Her long, curly hair sat perfectly on her shoulders. Her big brown eyes stared back at him begging for an answer to make this alright with her, to make it all go away. But he had no answer. He loved her but he felt an obligation to Teresa. The two stared at one another silently. His eyes roamed from her lips, painted a beautiful rouge, down to her long luxurious neck. A perfect set of breasts sat snuggly in the tight fitting black dress with a split up the middle by her legs. Six inch black heels with the toes out added to her six foot height and accentuated her long legs even more. She towered over Black as she fell into his arms like a love sick teenager.

***

More than two hours had gone by and Teresa and Black still hadn't shown up. After storming off James had felt like such a fool for the way he'd behaved. After calming down he dropped off the squad car and drove his personal vehicle over to Teresa's where he waited. He'd knocked on the door and no one answered. He wanted to call but after his foul actions he was afraid she wouldn't answer. He had to admit to himself that if he received one more rejection from her he didn't know what he would do. He needed to see her face to face so that she could see the sincerity in his eyes. At least that was his plan anyway. But the longer he waited the angrier he became. Here he was going the extra mile to make things right between the two of them and she didn't even have the decency to come home. He couldn't take it any longer. He removed his cell phone from his hip and scrolled the phone book for her name. Staring at the phone he ran through different things he would say if she answered. His palms became sweaty as a drop of blood dripped from his nose. He dropped the phone on the passenger seat, got out of the car, and slammed the door closed. Taking fast paced steps to her apartment building, he walked in and strolled down the hall to her unit. Stopping in front of her door he paused. Leaning forward he pressed his ear against the door to see if he could hear anything. Once he was certain no one was inside he removed the spare key she'd given him for emergencies and let himself in. Cautiously walking in, so as not to disturb anything, he quietly closed the door behind himself and locked it. He knew it was wrong to be here but he somehow felt closer to her by being in her apartment around her things.

Tip-toeing across the linoleum floor he kept looking over his shoulder as if he was expecting her to return at any moment. He wanted to leave, but the urge to stay and learn more about her was overwhelming. Stepping into the kitchen he stood in the center of the room and inhaled. Closing his eyes he let the memory sensor in his brain detect the last meal she'd prepared there. He inhaled once more taking in the scent of old chicken grease. His mouth began to water as he imagined her sitting at her kitchen table eating. Pulling out the chair he eased into the seat, placed both hands flat on the table, and massaged oak with his palms. Laying his face on the table he felt the coolness chill his skin. "Ahhh," he cooed.

Rising from the table he made his way to the refrigerator and opened the door to look through it. He removed the lid from the Tupperware bowl and retrieved a chicken leg. Placing the lid back on the bowl he closed the door and bit into the chicken. With each bite he imagined himself nibbling at the fruit between her legs. Oddly enough he was beginning to relax. He walked through the apartment as if he belonged there. Stepping into her hallway bathroom he dropped the chicken bone in the trash, opened her medicine cabinet, and began rummaging through her things. He read her prescription bottles and birth control pills. His nose wrinkled up looking at the tube of Monistat 7. Placing all her things back the way she had them, as best he could, he closed the cabinet and made his way towards her bedroom.

Once again he stood in the center of the room and inhaled. He could smell her, the scent of Teresa as he called it the first time she'd given him a hug. He never could remember the name of her perfume. Just the scent alone gave him an erection. Walking over to her closet he slid the doors open and began thumbing through her wardrobe. After he'd seen enough he closed the door. Just as he was about to leave he paused staring down at her clothes hamper. He flipped the lid and dug both hands into her dirty laundry. Removing a pair of her panties and her robe he held her underwear in front of his face, stuck out his tongue, and licked the crouch area. Suckling the sweat from her vagina on his tongue he let his saliva marinate in his mouth before swallowing. Dropping her undergarment back into the hamper, he slid his arms into her robe the best he could trying not to tear it. He pulled back the comforter on top of her bed, climbed in the covers, and hugged one of her pillows. He felt a sense of calmness as he felt sleep begin to fall over him. Before he was completely asleep he heard the sound of voices. Jumping from the bed and pulling the comforter back into place, he crept over to the door and gently closed it. He stepped into the closet, closed the door, pressed his ear against the wall, and listened closely.

"Thank you for understanding," he heard Teresa's voice explaining. "Just give me one second. I'll get the cash. I tried calling my friend James for a ride but he never answered."

"I understand," a strange voice replied. "I started not to stop though, considering how you're dressed."

"Tell me about it. You know at least six cabs passed me by before you stopped. Thanks again," she said as she handed him the money. Transaction completed, she let him out then locked the door behind him.

James continued to listen as he heard her move down the hall towards the bedroom. He felt his stomach become queasy as the bedroom door opened. His thoughts raced as he tried to remember if he left anything of his out that she could find. He held his nose as he felt blood beginning to drip. He had no idea how he would explain why he was hiding in her closet wearing her robe. He held his breath as he heard her moving about the room then heard abruptly leave the room. He listened for a few minutes. Once he felt as if she would not return for a while he eased the door open. Stepping out of the closet he paused. Looking down at the floor he saw a pair of pink pajamas, panties, and a bra. He began to kneel to pick up her panties but dismissed the thought and moved towards the entrance to the hallway. Peeking his head out, he looked down the hall and saw that the bathroom door was cracked open. Tip-toeing he made his way to the bathroom door where he heard the shower running. Peeking through the crack in the door he could see her reflection in the mirror from the neck up. He stood for a moment and watched her shower. She looked so peaceful to him with the lathered soap glistening off of her neck and suds slithering down her body.

He jumped as he heard banging at the front door. Perhaps it's the cab driver again, he thought as he made his way back to her bedroom and into her closet once again. The banging continued until he heard her yell that she was coming. He heard her wet, bare feet smacking against the linoleum floor. With his ear still pressed against the wall he heard the door lock unlatch and the door open.

"Can I come in?" Black asked leaning against the wall leading from the hall into her apartment.

Teresa stared in awe. "What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk."

"Talk to Morena... I mean Baby Love. That's what you call her right?"

"Teresa, I'm sorry. Can I come in....please?"

She stepped to the side and allowed him to come in. She knew she should have run to put on some clothes yet she remained wrapped only in a dry towel. After locking the door she led him to the living room where they both had a seat on the sofa.

"Teresa, I'm sorry."

"You said that already."

"Yeah...I said that already. I didn't know Morena was coming. I would have never—"

"Gotten caught right?"

"Be fair."

"I am being fair. I was fair enough not to kick you out when you came to see me in the hospital. I was fair enough when I allowed you to give me a ride home from the hospital. I was fair enough when you tried that slick nonsense with the flowers, balloons, and clothes. And don't say you weren't trying to be slick. I even was fair when you called that fake ass Selma Hayek Baby Love."

"I just wanted to do right by you."

"Do right by me?"

"Yes."

"Then tell me, Black... why does it feel so wrong?

Black leaned back against the sofa, closed his eyes, and placed his hand on his forehead. Teresa turned her back to him crossing her arms across her chest. Several seconds passed before Black opened his eyes and broke the silence. "This is not how I pictured this in my head."

With her back still to him and her legs crossed she rolled her eyes. "Well things in life seldom turn out the way that you picture them."

"It shouldn't be like this, Teresa. I mean... you hurt, I hurt, and I...." Black paused. It was hurting him to get the words out.

She turned to face him and she felt her mood soften looking into his face. "You what?"

"Haven't even given my friend a hug."

Teresa didn't want to but she smiled. She wanted to stay angry. It was true they were friends. In fact they'd been friends before they were lovers and she knew with all the ass backwards, wrong things he'd done he still loved her and always would even if they weren't together. She slid closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He hugged her back wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. He inhaled her scent as he felt her kiss his neck. He pulled back bringing them eye to eye. They gazed at one another before he went in for a kiss. Their lips locked instinctively. She ran her hand across the back of his head. Moans fell from their lips. Her chest heaved seductively as she felt his strong hands roam across her flesh with familiarity. His hands glided down her thighs and she slowly slid her legs open as the towel fell to the floor. His hand began massaging her vagina which moistened more and more with each touch. Unbeknownst to them, James crept from the closet and peeked from around the corner to ogle at the two lovers angrily.

Running her tongue down his neck Teresa nibbled at Black's Adams Apple. Feelings of lust, shame, fear, and guilt all came flooding at the same time. It was like a head rush; too much to bear. She withdrew from Black's grasp with tears streaming from her face and stood up. Quickly she retrieved the towel from the floor and re-covered herself.

"What's wrong?" Black asked with his testosterone now at full peak.

She glared at his erection with disgust and rolled her eyes. "Just go, Black."

"Go? We need to talk about this."

"Talk? We were doing a little more than talking."

"I don't understand you."

"Clearly."

Black threw his hands in the air bringing them down hard on his legs in frustration. "Here you go."

Teresa's mood switched to full blown anger. She didn't want to argue and she didn't want to explain herself. Black was making that harder and harder with each statement he made.

"Come on, Black. Just go."

Black stood to his feet and shook his head in disappointment. "Don't you see I love you?"

"Keep it real, Black. You don't know how to love me... never did. I was raped. I need comforting...not sexing."

He dropped his head, balled his fists in anger, and stormed from her living room leaving her apartment in a heated rage. James stood in the hall smiling. Stealing glimpses of Teresa balled up on the couch crying he wanted to go to her and comfort her. He turned, went back to her bedroom, and climbed out of her window. Running across the parking lot with her robe blowing in the wind he climbed into his car and peeled away from the building.

Chapter Five

Black stepped into the precinct where Teresa worked. He was still upset about what had occurred the night before and was looking to take it out on someone. Today James would fill that slot perfectly. Posted against the wall in the back of the room he surveyed the floor looking for the officer. The setting was not unfamiliar to him. All police stations were the same in nature. He imagined that if he were in a police station in Belgium it would be pretty much the same. Cops and robbers, that's what his father called it. He was proud of Black and his accomplishments but he thought it was a waste of time and money. A system that was designed to never succeed, Black felt he could do more to help. Maybe his father was right. He shook the thought from his mind and zeroed in on James across the room. The unsuspecting man hadn't even noticed him. Black made his way towards him but was cut off before he reached his desk.

"Can I help you?" the blonde haired, tanned detective asked placing his hand on Black's shoulder.

His eyes were still trained on James as he exited the building. Now annoyed, Black turned and faced the officer that had interrupted his mission. He put Black in the mind of Val Kilmer. Not the Top Gun Val Kilmer, not even the Tombstone Val Kilmer. The overweight, straight to video, B List actor Val Kilmer. The look-alike stood face to face with Black. Black looked over at the man's hand on his shoulder. The officer got the point and promptly removed his hand.

"Yes, I'm looking for the detectives in charge of the Prince case," Black stated.

"And you would be?"

Black flashed his badge. "A.D.A. Love. Can you get the detectives that I'm asking for please?"

The detective cleared his throat and walked around Black towards his desk. "I'm Detective Waeltz. I'm in charge of the Prince case. I sent the files over to the D.A. already."

"I read them. A little thin don't you think?"

"What do you want me to say? I sent what she gave me."

"What I want you to do is do your job and do it efficiently."

"All I can tell you is what I put in the report. Ms. Prince claims that she was sexually assaulted. She doesn't give us a who or a where. A call was placed that a half-naked woman who looked beat up was lying in the street. When the responding officer found her she had no memory of how she had gotten there or how long she was there."

"She claims she was assaulted?" Black asked, forehead wrinkled.

"Right now it's just a statement."

"So you're calling Ms. Prince a liar?"

"I'm not making any judgment calls at all. Only going with what's in front of me. Officially I can't say anything. Un-officially sounds like a case of date rape."

"What the hell kind of detective are you?"

"Who the hell are you to come in here and question how I run an investigation?"

"I'm the guy that's going to crawl all up in your ass until you get the results I want."

"This isn't Chicago, Mr. Love. We do things differently here in Danville."

"It's District Attorney Love and I don't give a damn where we are. The law is the law."

Detective Waeltz laughed. "You might think so huh?"

"Excuse me?"

Chief Witherspoon ducked out of his office and gestured with his hand for Black to come over. "Love! In my office please if you don't mind?"

Black looked Waeltz up and down before walking off towards the chief's office. By the time he stepped into the office the chief was already sitting at his desk. A glass of water, a bottle of brandy, and three Alka-Seltzer pills sat in front of him.

"Close the door," he demanded as he scooped the pills from his desk and dropped them in the glass. The pills fizzed and dissolved turning the water a murky looking color. He downed the water then quickly poured a shot of the brandy into the same glass and slammed it. "To wash my mouth out from the Alka-Seltzer," he said as he opened a drawer and placed the glass and alcohol inside. "Have a seat Love."

Black shook his head no. "I'm fine. What can I help you with Chief?"

"Thought that I'd introduce myself."

"Jason Wallace Witherspoon, Chief of Police for Vermillion County," Black stated. "Only son born to Jason Wallace Witherspoon Senior and Jennifer Witherspoon. Born in New York, moved to Danville at 15 years old where you attended high school until graduation. Left for a number of years... fell off the grid. Re-emerged two years later. Enlisted into the Army. Did a tour in the Middle East during the Regan administration. Released for dishonorable discharge, joined the academy, and got a job as a beat cop with the Danville police department. Worked your way up the ranks to Chief and here we are."

Witherspoon reclined in his chair placing his hands on his rotund belly. "Impressive. Just wanted you to know anything you need my department is at your disposal. Teresa is family and in Danville we take care of family."

"Thank you, Chief," Black said as he exited the office.

***

Here she was dressed and ready to tackle her fears. She was determined not to let what happened to her get the better or her and become an anchor in her life. She was confused about a lot of things and had no one to talk to about them. She couldn't call Black. He would either argue with her about them and their unresolved issues or press her about who raped her. She still hadn't confessed about who had done this to her. That was another thing; facing the chief and the other two officers at work. She knew any other woman would had quit yet she felt in doing so she gave them more power over her and she refused to be powerless to such cowards.

She wanted to talk to James but after he acted so jealous, and on top of that ignored her call when she needed help, she was beginning to feel a friendship with him wasn't worth maintaining. She stood in the bathroom in her apartment staring into the mirror. She was all cried out. She wanted to cry but nothing would fall. She screamed until the hair on her neck stood and her ears shrilled. She screamed until her voice began to ache. She screamed until she laughed. It was the first genuine laugh that she'd had since this entire ordeal began. She turned on the faucet to the sink and let the water run underneath her hands. She splashed the water on her face and turned the faucet off before grabbing a towel and drying her face. Dropping her towel into the sink she took one final look at herself in the mirror.

"Here we go," she whispered as she marched down the hall to her front door. Securing her purse on her shoulder she unlocked the door and opened it. Standing on the other side of the door was someone she did not want to talk to. Her eyes squinted evilly as she bit into her bottom lip. "What can I do for you, Morena?"

***

Officer Hunter and Officer Foster walked and talked as they headed towards their separate squad cars. Pausing midway through, they waited until a fellow officer had gone passed before continuing.

"What are we going to do?" Hunter quipped in a hushed tone.

"About what?" Foster asked innocently.

Hunter leaned in closer to her and whispered. "You know... do about Teresa."

She pushed him to the side and opened her car door. "There is nothing to do."

"You know she's coming back to work. What if she rats us out?"

"You're paranoid. She's not going to say anything and if she does so what? We're cops for Christ's sake. Who are they going to believe? Some emotional Black chick or three of Danville's finest?" She climbed into the car and closed the door.

Hunter stood staring at her feeling nervous about the situation. "Maybe you're right."

"Trust me." She started the car, put it in drive, and pulled off.

He wanted to believe her but this was too important to put in the hands of fate. He had to be sure she wouldn't talk and she wouldn't if he had anything to do with it.

***

So here they were; the former fiancé and the new fiancé face to face. Teresa was not pleased with it, yet here she was playing hostess and making nice. In her head she couldn't help but hear the theme music from the movie the Magnificent Seven during the scene where they had their infamous showdown. That damn Black, she thought. Hell, double damn him. He was the reason the song was in her head. She hated westerns but he loved them. They'd watched them so much together that she knew the scenes word for word. He was also the reason this woman felt she needed to confront her about a man she didn't even want. The awkwardness was apparent. Teresa could read in the woman's eyes that she wasn't one hundred percent sure about being there either.

"What can I do for you, Morena?" she asked again.

"First off, I want to say I'm sorry about what happened to you. I truly am and—."

Teresa cut her off midsentence. "Thank you, but it's not necessary I'm fine and I'm not discussing this with you."

"Fair enough. Are you sleeping with Black?"

Finally, Teresa thought. The true reason she's here. "No, I am not sleeping with Black. That is the last thing you need to worry about."

Morena eyed her skeptically.

Teresa continued. "Nothing to worry about. That part of my life is so done."

Morena nodded knowingly. "For you perhaps. Black... I don't know so much."

"Shouldn't you be talking to Black about this? I assure you I am not encouraging it. Believe me when I say I do not want him."

"What do you want?"

"Excuse me?"

"No offense but it has to be something. I practically begged him not to pursue this case."

"Again, that has something to do with me because?"

"He says he has an obligation to you, something that I would not understand. I'm asking you, woman to woman, can you help me to understand?"

Teresa brushed the hair from her face. "He doesn't owe me anything. Honestly, he doesn't." Teresa sighed. Shoulders slouched, she continued. "Before we began dating Black and I were friends. I'd just moved to Chicago from Danville so I was a small town girl in a big city. No family, no friends. I met Black and he befriended me. Believe me when I say there was no physical attraction there on my part. Don't get me wrong, he's an attractive brother, just not my type you know?"

Morena nodded silently.

Teresa continued. "That's just not where my head was at, at the time. Shit, I don't know, girl... and I don't want to talk about this. It doesn't feel right, I sympathize with your situation, but this is a talk you should be having with Black."

"No. I'm having it with you and we're having it now!" Morena stated sliding her cup of coffee across the table in front of her and standing to her feet.

Teresa stood to her feet. She hadn't paid much attention before to how tall Morena actually was. It became apparent staring up at the woman sensing the onset of a physical altercation. But that didn't deter her. She wasn't going to be disrespected in her own home. Teresa chuckled. "That's what I get right? I tried to be civil, be the bigger woman...screw you and your man. Coming to me with this screwed up non-sense... I am not a marriage counselor. If Black has unresolved issues and you can't keep your man in line don't come to me crying, bitch!"

"Keep my man in line?"

"That's what I said. Keep your man in line. Now I'm saying it's time for you to go."

Morena stood her ground with her hands on both hips. Teresa stepped towards the woman aggressively. Morena began backing up then turned and headed for the door. She opened the door, ducked out and slammed it closed. Teresa stood staring at the door dumbfounded. Now feeling drained her doubts about confronting her attackers and returning to work came creeping back. Back in her kitchen Teresa noticed that in Morena's rush to get out of there she'd left her purse on the kitchen table. Just as she picked the purse up to put it away there was banging on her door. Figuring it had to be Morena returning for her purse she carried it with her to the door. She snatched the door open with attitude and was immediately frozen in her spot as she stared at Officer Hunter.

Her mouth fell open and a dryness set in. She was paralyzed with fear. Her legs wouldn't move. She just stared. Standing eye to eye he was a smaller man in height, almost 5'6. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism but she found herself counting the freckles in his red face. He grimaced at her as he placed his hand on the wall and his foot in the door way blocking it from closing. Her freckle count was somewhere between 25 and 30 when she re-focused her attention to what he was saying. She was unaware of how much she'd missed of what he'd already said. All she heard was if she returned to work she would be sorry.

Looking to the left of her she spotted Morena standing there listening. Teresa felt herself becoming hot. Sweat trickled across her forehead. She stepped around Hunter walking towards Morena and extending her arm to hand her the purse. She tried her best to hold it together but she felt as if she would break down at any moment. A sense of embarrassment made it hard for her to look Morena in the eye. She stared down at her feet.

"Here you are girl," she said nervously. "I was just headed out to bring this to you."

Morena accepted her purse and lowered her head attempting to look Teresa in the eyes.

"Everything alright, girl?"

Teresa smiled nervously. She was unsure of how much Morena had overheard. She did not want her to tell Black. "Sure. I'm fine. Talk to you later, girl."

Morena looked up at Hunter. She didn't know what it was but something didn't seem right. "You know what, girl? I got some time. I think I'll sit and talk a while."

Teresa took her by the arm and began walking her down the hall towards the exit. "Sounds good girl, but right now is not a good time."

Morena pulled from her grasp and turned back towards Teresa's apartment. "Of course it is. I have all day. Maybe I can give Black a call to come pick me up."

Teresa felt her heart skip a beat. Rushing behind Morena she placed her hand on the small of her back. "That's not necessary, girl. You're right though...we can finish having girl talk." Teresa faked a smile.

Hunter approached the two women. "Everything alright here, Teresa?"

"Don't she look alright, Officer...what's your name?" Morena squinted at his badge.

Hunter curled his lips angrily. "Hunter. Officer Hunter. And you are?"

"I am none of your damn business. There's no disturbance here, Officer. Thank you."

"I'd like to hear that from Teresa. Everything is alright...ain't it, Teresa?"

"Yeah....yeah, Hunter. Everything's just fine."

"You ladies have a nice day now," he said as he walked down the hall and out of the building.

"Mmmhhmm...." Morena said as she watched Teresa step into her apartment.

***

Black sat nursing a beer at the local bar, Under Caution. He wasn't much of a drinker. He only ordered it to not appear out of place. He knew he was a stubborn man to a fault. He knew he was wrong to be here for so many reasons, yet he felt compelled to finish what he'd started. He couldn't leave. Not before the investigation even began. His conscience wouldn't let him. Digging his hand into the bowl of peanuts he felt a heavy hand fall down on his shoulder. Without looking he continued crushing the shells to the peanuts with his hand and popping them in his mouth. "You following me now, Waeltz?"

The detective sat next to him. "Give me a reason."

"What are you talking about, Detective?"

"A reason, D.A. Love, not to request to have you removed from this case?"

Black smiled and continued eating his peanuts. "On what grounds?"

"Conflict of interest. You use to date the victim."

Black faced Waeltz. "Oh, she's a victim now."

"That's not an answer, Love."

"That's what you call doing a thorough investigation? Looking into me?"

"I was looking into her and guess who popped up like zits on the face of a horny pre-teen boy?"

"I thought the law didn't matter in Danville?"

"I'm going to the D.A. with this." He slid from the chair and turned to leave.

Black grabbed his arm. "Wait. You're a good cop, Waeltz."

Waeltz yanked away from Black's grasp. "How the hell do you know what kind of cop I am?"

"You found out about me and Teresa didn't you?"

"A four year old with an internet connection could've found that out."

"A four year old wouldn't have cared. So tell me your honest opinion as a cop. Do you think she's lying?"

"Yes."

Black turned away from Waeltz and continued eating his peanuts. It wasn't the answer he wanted to hear but he respected the man's opinion and his honesty.

Waeltz continued. "Lying.....about being raped, no. About not knowing who did this to her, yes. I think it's someone she knows and it scares her to death to come forward with it."

Black swiveled in his seat now facing Waeltz again. "Someone she knows. So you're really thinking date rape?"

"I believe so."

One guy came to mind and that was James. He didn't like the guy but he didn't have him pegged for rape. It would make sense though, especially the way that he'd been behaving. Black figured he'd keep his accusations to himself until he found out what else Waeltz had. "Any suspects?"

"She was a true work hound. Never did the bar scene, no hook ups, no internet date lines... she doesn't even have Twitter, Facebook, or Instagram accounts. She was seeing one guy who works in the department. I've put off questioning him until she gives me a time and a place at the very least. I can't question his whereabouts without it."

"Who is this guy on the force?"

"James Collins."

"You know the guy?"

"Not on a personal level. He's taken down a few doors with me on high profile warrants. Couldn't say if I liked or disliked the guy but he was professional."

"Do me a solid and look into him."

"If this case goes any further I'll check it out. I ain't making no promises that it will."

Black nodded before he spoke. "Why come to me instead of going straight to get me kicked off this case?"

"Wanted to look you in the eye man to man first and see what you had to say. I still might turn over this information."

Black reached out his hand. Waeltz extended his and they shook firmly.

"I appreciate that," Black stated. "It wouldn't matter though. The D.A. knows we were once engaged. She knew before I got here."

"You have some juice then huh?"

"A little bit. What's your next move?"

"Interview Teresa again. Love, I have to be honest... she doesn't give me any new information soon the chief's going to make me close the case and move on to the next one."

"What about you?"

"What about me?" Waeltz was confused.

"How was your relationship with Teresa?"

"I don't know... about the same as my relationship with James. We were cordial."

"You're not the type of guy I thought you'd be, Waeltz. At least not on paper anyway."

Waeltz placed one hand in his pocket and rested the other on his gun. "Looking into me too, Love?"

Black shrugged his shoulders. "Force of habit."

"What you find out?"

"Enough to know you're being on the level with me right now."

"Right now, huh?"

Black placed a twenty dollar bill on the bar, stood, and began walking towards the exit.

"You know as well as I do, Waeltz, in this line of work things often change."
Chapter Six

Black pulled into the garage at the house he was renting and turned the motor to the truck off. He reclined in his seat and closed his eyes. He wanted to see Teresa; just see her no talking... just be with her. But he knew not enough time had passed since they'd had their last fight. It was the same with Morena. He wanted to go in and lay with her and just chill but she'd want to talk about Teresa. He wasn't in the mood for that. He had the right mind to go to sleep in the truck. Thinking better of it he opened the door, climbed out, and went into the house. Just as he expected Morena was there to greet him in the kitchen. She was all business. There wasn't a smile or a look of happiness anywhere to be found in her face.

"What's up?" he asked as he threw his car keys on the kitchen counter. When he was close enough he kissed her on her cheek.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly on the lips. "Cariño, we have to talk. It's about Teresa."

He gently pushed her back and sighed. "Not tonight, Baby Love. I'm not in the mood."

He stepped around her and down the three steps into the living room where he paused and turned to look back at Morena who was standing behind him. He turned back to look at Teresa who was sitting on the sofa. Placing his hands in his pockets he continued into the living room stopping in front of Teresa. "What's this all about?"

Morena stood next to him, slid her hand into his pocket, and held his hand. "She needs to tell you something. I'll go for a ride to give you two some time." She kissed him on the cheek, smiled subtly at Teresa, and exited the living room through the kitchen then glided down the hall and out into the garage.

Black didn't say anything he just stood and waited.

"Can you not stand over me?" Teresa asked as she patted the empty spot next to her on the couch.

He loosened his tie and sat.

She inhaled then exhaled before speaking. Black sat in silence for the forty-five minutes of her explanation as to how, where, and who raped her. He held it all in when what he really wanted to do was run upstairs to get his gun and drive straight over to the station and gun the three down. He knew that would be a suicide mission. He was a lawyer. He fought his battles in the court room and he won. That's how he operated. He was determined that he would not rest until all three never saw the light of the streets again. He got what he wanted: to hear the truth. Now that he'd heard it a part of him wished that he hadn't. It was a hard pill to swallow.

***

He didn't know if she was being strong for him or had become numb. She didn't shed any tears or show any sign of hurt. After much arguing and back and forth, Black and Morena both convinced her to stay there with them. Black knew that it would be awkward for all of them but he was glad that Morena suggested it and that Teresa finally agreed. After making sure that she was settled in he got in his truck and drove over to the police station. He'd called Waeltz on the way and he'd agreed to meet him at there. When he walked in hard stares fell on him coming from both men and women. The women surprised him more than anything. No matter how much he saw it, it never rested easy with him how the loyalty amongst police officers was so immense it blanketed all common sense, decency, and reason. As he made his way through the crowd of officers standing and watching he reached Chief Witherspoon's office just as two plain clothes detectives were slapping handcuffs on Hunter and Foster. He assumed they were Internal Affairs detectives. He folded his arms across his chest as he watched Waeltz put the cuffs on Witherspoon.

"I can't believe you did this, Love!" Witherspoon called out.

Waeltz guided the chief out of his office and towards the exit. "He didn't. I called I.A. I also called your union rep. Don't say another word Chief."

Black followed behind as the officers were led to awaiting vehicles parked in front of the station. After they were all in and the cars pulled away from the curb only Waeltz and Love stood outside.

"I'm surprised that the D.A. wanted to place them under arrest so quickly," Waeltz said, not giving Love any eye contact as he scrolled through his phone.

"She hasn't been very popular in the polls. If it's a chance to show the public she's on top of police corruption it'll look all the better come election time."

"Look, I have to go. Keep me in the loop," Waeltz said as he hopped in his car and pulled off just as news vans pulled up. Reporters and cameramen began piling out and moving towards Black.

"A.D.A. Love, is it true the chief and two of his officers are accused of the rape of a woman that was working here as an intern?" a reporter asked wasting no time.

"No comment," Black said as he made the trek towards his truck.

"Aren't you the District Attorney for Cook County? Is there any special reason you were assigned to this case?"

"No comment!" he yelled again as they continued following him. As he reached his truck with a bevy of news reporters on his heels he stood in awe. His truck had been vandalized. The windows were all shattered. Glass lay scattered on the ground and in the front seats. All four tires were slashed and the words "She's a liar!" were keyed onto the hood. He looked around anxiously as if he would spot the perpetrator at any moment. He angrily kicked a dent into the driver's door as the gaggle of reporters kept shouting out questions at him. He began walking in the other direction as officers stood by; some glaring angrily, others laughing. He walked and walked until he found himself back at the bar. It was a poor choice seeing as though it was a local hangout for off duty cops. Sitting in the same spot he'd sat at only hours ago the once friendly bartender turned a cold shoulder to him. Black removed a twenty dollar bill from his wallet and placed it on the bar top. "Jack and coke."

The bartender stared at Love then at the twenty dollar bill for several seconds before picking it up and placing it in the cash register. Then he picked up the remote control, pointed it at the plasma TV hanging from the ceiling behind the bar and turned the volume up. Black hadn't paid much attention to the TV before but when he heard his voice yelling no comment he looked up just in time to see himself kicking a dent in the rental. He grunted.

The bartender grimaced as he poured the drink and slid it in front of him. "You have that drink and you get on out of here and head back home. Don't need no trouble round here."

"Not looking for any, won't be any." Black downed his drink and slammed the empty glass on the counter. "Another," he demanded never wavering eye contact.

The bartender poured the drink returning a stare just as hard and cold as Black's.

"Not saying you are, counselor, but can't say the same for them," the bartender said nodding at the group of men playing pool behind Black.

He didn't turn to look. He knew they were there and he knew it might get ugly once the men got a few drinks in them. Yet he wouldn't leave. Running was not an option even when he knew it was a losing battle. It wasn't that he was trying to be tough. Growing up in Chicago he'd learned that you have to face the school bully or neighborhood gangbangers sooner or later. There was no getting around that. Fight back or get your ass kicked every day. He learned that the hard way growing up and now he applied it to everything in life. He wasn't too old to get his ass kicked but he was definitely too old to run from bullies.

He downed the drink in silence as he blocked out the rumblings of the men behind him. Staring intently at the news footage of him attacking his car that was playing every fifteen minutes, he sat silent as he felt the warmness in his chest. The effects of the alcohol were zeroing in. Ignoring the feeling, he ordered drink after drink until his vision was blurred and speech was slurred.

"You know she probably asked for it," a voice from one of the men shooting pool behind him blurted out.

"Damn slut," another chimed in.

Black removed a hundred dollar bill from his wallet and slammed it on the bar. He stood from his seat and headed for the door.

"It's not safe out here after dark, Counselor. You might want to be careful what the whore claimed happened to her don't happen to you."

Black stopped in his tracks. Red flashed in his mind as he turned and faced the men with his hands balled into fists. He counted three; all cops from what he could tell. They weren't wearing uniforms but after years of dealing with law enforcement, some while growing up in the streets of Chicago and being harassed and the rest prepping them on cases he had to try, with or without a uniform he could spot them without even trying.

"What? Huh?" The ringleader spat out walking around the pool table towards Black with the pool stick still in hand. "What the hell are you gonna do?"

"Not in here Billy," the bartender yelled out calling the off duty officer by his first name.

"Quiet you! We got this!"

The old man retrieved a bat from underneath the counter. "The hell you do. Not in my place. Now out of here! All of you!"

Black stood his ground as the bartender came from behind the bar and stood side by side with Black. "I don't care one way or the other how you fools settle this. It just won't happen here. Not in my place."

"I think it's about time we see what the counselor here is made of," the ringleader said as he rushed towards Black full speed with the pool stick raised over his head ready to bring it down across Black's face.

Black didn't hesitate or pause. He rushed towards his attacker and hunched low instead of dodging the pool stick. He threw himself into the blow at the same time throwing his shoulder into the cop like a defensive tackle. He lifted the man into the air and brought him down hard onto the pool table. The crunch of his back coming into contact with the pool balls rang out into the packed bar. As if on cue from a movie director, the bar became eerily silent. Black threw blow after blow into his opponent's chest and rib cage until he was rushed by two others. Each slid their arms under his to scoop him off of their fellow officer and then slam him against the wall.

The bartender, coming to the rescue, swung the bat striking one of the men across the back. The assailant dropped to his knees in front of Black who then kicked him in the face. The other man, still holding Black against the wall, gripped his neck keeping him pinned to the wall. Stepping over the man on the floor, the bartender swung again going for the second perpetrator. The cop was no fool. He let go of Black seconds before impact. Black hunched over ready to vomit as the deadly swing hit him in the stomach. The bartender was embarrassed that he missed his target and had accidently hit Black. He dropped the bat and slowly eased back as the cop approached him with hate in his eyes. The bartender shook his head no nervously as he unknowingly backed into the guy that had started the fight who was now back on his feet.

"I told you to stay out of this," the ringleader said as he shoved the old man to the ground. He looked around the bar as his cronies began getting back to their feet.

The other patrons stood quietly watching. They knew it was wrong. They knew that they should do something to intercept. But what could they do? Who could they call? The police? They were the police so they just watched as the wayward officers drug Black from the bar and out into the parking lot. Some laughed, some turned their heads from Black's glance too ashamed to make eye contact, and others removed their cell phones and recorded the scene. A guy in the back of the bar recording with his cellphone could be heard yelling, "World Star, World Star!" He was referring to the content aggregating video blog where recorded content could be freely uploaded and was known mostly for regularly featuring public fighting caught on tape.

Black felt his insides shifting around as his legs went limp. Out in the parking lot two men held his arms as the third hit him with blow after blow to his face and abdomen. He felt the stickiness from the blood pouring from his mouth and face. Suddenly he felt the left side of his body being released as one of his attackers quickly let go. Black took that as an opportunity and quickly wrapped his free arm around the guy that was still holding him. He pulled him close and kneed him in the stomach. As the guy hunched over in pain Black brought another hard punch down onto his shoulder bone. He could hear the bone split as the man yelled out in agony. The man fell to his knees and squirmed in pain. Black kneed him in the face and he fell onto his back confused about whether to hold his bloody nose or his throbbing shoulder.

Before Black could re-act to the third attacker he was grabbed and lifted off of his feet only to be thrown head first into a car. He grunted and looking up from the ground blurrily as blood oozed into his eyes. He saw a familiar figure place his attacker in a choke hold. Black made his way to his feet as both men eased down to the ground. Black's newfound savior gently laid the now sleeping man's head onto the asphalt, stood to his feet, and eyed Black venomously.

Black stared back confused. He didn't know if the fight was over or if it was just a continuation. He didn't know if he had it in him to go another round. Neither spoke. The stare down lasted for several seconds before James turned and walked towards his car. "Come on. I'll give you a ride home," he said.

Black was hesitant at first, but figured if he came to his rescue in this fight he could at the very least trust the man to give him a ride home. He just didn't know why he was helping him. Black knew it wouldn't be long before he found out and he probably wouldn't like the answer.

***

Black led the way into his temporary home. James silently followed closing the door behind him. Black walked over to the sink and turned on the cold water. He ran his hands underneath the steady stream and splashed the icy water onto his face. Once done he dried his face with a nearby dish towel used for drying dishes.

"I told you it wasn't necessary that I come in," James said with his arms folded across his chest.

Black opened the refrigerator and removed two bottles of beer handing one to James.

"We need to talk."

"Nothing to talk about."

Black smirked as he popped the cap off of his beer. "Why did you help me back there?"

James popped his cap and took a swallow before responding. "It was the right thing to do."

"You always do the right thing?"

James paused. He dropped his head and shifted his view from Black's. "I used to. Not so much anymore."

"Then why the change of heart? Why help me?"

James turned and faced Black. "Forget about it alright?"

"Forget about it? I'm just curious given our track record together hasn't been on the friendliest of terms."

"I thought you'd be more appreciative. Should I have let those guys just kill you back there?"

Black didn't respond. He guzzled his beer. James remained silent as well. Morena and Teresa both entered the kitchen from the living room wearing robes.

"Cariño!" Morena said in shock seeing Black's bruised and bloody face.

Teresa froze in her tracks with her mouth agape, shocked to find both Black and James in the kitchen together. "James, what are you doing here?"

Morena looked to James. "You did this to him?" she spat out angrily moving towards him.

Black grabbed her by the arm and pulled her close to him. "Simmer down, Champ. We didn't fight."

Teresa placed her hands on her hips angrily. "You didn't fight? What happened to your face then, Black?"

"Correction, we didn't fight each other. It's a long story. I just want to shower and go to bed. We'll talk about this in the morning."

"Black I—" Morena began to protest as Black cut her short kissing her sternly.

"In the morning," he said.

She huffed and sighed. "A primera hora de la mañana su no conseguir lejos con no hablar de esto."

"I know, I know," Black said as he followed her towards the bedroom.

"With your black ass," she said in an attempt to get the last word.

James and Teresa stood in the kitchen with neither saying a word. She looked at her feet, then up at his hands seeing the blood on them. Walking over she grabbed his hands and pulled him over to the sink. "You're bleeding." She turned the water on.

"No, it's not my blood."

She pulled his hands underneath the running water. "What happened with you two tonight?"

"Didn't Black say he'll tell you in the morning?"

Once his hands were free of the blood she turned the water off and handed him a towel. "Black is not my father and he's not my man. I'm asking you, James. What happened tonight?"

"I'm not sure. He'll have to tell you the specifics. I was just in the right place at the right time, saw an unfair fight, and stepped in to help."

"Hmm..." she responded as she busied herself in the kitchen searching through cabinets until she found a plastic zip lock bag. She filled it with ice, closed it up, and then handed it to James.

He placed it on his swollen knuckles. "Thank you."

"No need for thanks. That was an admirable thing you did for Black. You didn't have to."

"No, not for the ice... Thank you for talking to me."

Teresa smiled sullenly.

He continued. "And I wasn't just being a good guy when I helped Black."

Teresa brushed the hair from her face. "No?"

"No. I helped him for you."

"For me?"

"Yeah. I knew if he got hurt you would hurt."

"James, there's nothing going on between us."

James cleared his throat. "I don't know... you're half naked, she's half naked... you, him, her," he said motioning with his hands. "Looks like a mini version of the playboy mansion around here."

"Ha, ha. Is that supposed to be funny?"

"I don't know what it's supposed to be. I don't even know what I'm doing here. I don't know anything right now. I'm sorry for how I behaved and I'm sorry for what happened to you."

"It's not your fault."

"Teresa I..."

"You what?" she asked looking up into his eyes.

He stared back looking as if he was on the brink of tears. "I...nothing... I gotta go. I'll talk to you later."

She lowered her head disappointedly and spoke in almost a whisper. "I'd prefer if we talked now, but if you feel you must go....then go."

He paused with his back turned to her. He fought back the tears and forced the lump in his throat back down. Taking a breath he turned and faced her only to find that her back was now to him. He wondered what was on her mind. He questioned whether staying would be a good idea; if trying to patch something up with a fractured woman he wanted so desperately in the home of her ex with him and his new woman up stairs was really what he should do. He approached Teresa and stood behind her placing his left hand on the small of her back and sliding his right hand into hers. Their fingers together and he smiled inwardly as the classic Spinner's song "It Takes a Fool" began playing in his head. If there was an occasion more fitting than this for that song to be in his head he couldn't think of it. He silently followed behind as she led him into the living room where they sat on the couch and talked until they fell asleep.

***

The water in the tub almost reached the top as Morena turned the faucet off, scooped a handful of bubbles, and blew them in Black's face. He smiled with bubbles now sitting on his nose and mustache. The hot water felt good to him as he soaked his sore body in the tub while watching her light the candles she had placed around the bathroom. The mood music was the melodic sounds of Kem. He was one of Black's favorite artists.

After she was done lighting the candles Morena turned off the bathroom light and knelt down on the floor next to the tub. "How do you feel Cariño?" she asked as she wrung the washcloth out over his chest.

He closed his eyes as the steaming hot water soothed his aching flesh. "A whole lot better now, Baby Love."

"Ayen Papi. Mami gonna take care of you, mi amor." She kissed his neck. "So what now, Cariño?"

"I won't lie to you. It's not going be easy. We have no physical evidence. It's just her word against theirs."

"Will they at least stay in jail?"

"I doubt it. They're probably already out."

"That poor girl."

"Thank you, baby. I appreciate what you're doing for Teresa."

"Hmmm."

"Really I do. You didn't have to be so cool about Teresa or give a damn at all about her situation."

"Umm hmm."

He opened his eyes and looked at her as she wrung the washcloth out and let the water rain down onto his bald head. His face scrunched in pain as the hot water hit the fresh sores on the top of his skull.

"Lo siento, mi amor," she whispered softly as she held his head to her chest. Her robe got wet as she kissed his face and head where the sores were. "Ah, my Cariño."

"It's okay. I'm fine."

She smiled and began washing his chest.

"Tell me, Baby Love, how did you get Teresa to talk to you about the rape?"

"Really, Black?"

"What?"

"I'm a counselor for rape victims and you ask me how?"

"No, I don't mean that. I mean... well given the circumstances of the situation wouldn't you say you were sort of too emotionally involved to get her to open up to you?"

"Evidently not. She opened up to me before she did to you which is shocking since you seem to think you two have this magical connection."

Black sighed. "Morena—"

"I'm cool. Just stating the facts, that's all. When I saw that dick head in the hall at her apartment I knew something was wrong. There was no way I was leaving her alone with him. Him being the rapist was nowhere in my mind. I just thought he was an ex acting a fool. She seems to have them popping up everywhere around her."

Black ignored the jab at him and James. He had learned to pick his battles and this one wasn't worth it.

She continued. "So after asshole left we went inside and it didn't take much for the house of cards to come falling down. She told me everything. The hard part was convincing her to tell you. She was worried about me telling you. After I convinced her that my oath of patient/client confidentiality was more important to me than my relationship with you she decided to just tell you herself."

Black felt a bit hurt. The fact that she didn't want to tell him made him feel like maybe what he thought they shared was all in his mind. "Why didn't she want to tell me?"

"I don't know, Black. I can only guess. Most rape victims feel so many different emotions. She may have felt as though you thought she caused this or, since she feels dirty all of the time from being violated, she may think that you view her as being dirty... as though she asked for this to happen to her. Shit, maybe she didn't want you to view her differently."

"Well I don't. I would never."

"Really, Black?"

He angled his body so that he was facing her. "You think I would?"

"I might be the wrong person to be asking this...but...yeah...I see how you look at her... like she's your teenage daughter who has had her heart broken by her boyfriend and you're ready to beat the boy up."

He turned back around and closed his eyes.

She laughed. "Don't pout."

"I'm not. Maybe you're right. How am I supposed to behave?"

"I'm not telling you not to be angry. Anger is a natural response, but be mindful of your boundaries and give her time. If you two are as close as you think you are she will open up to you when she is ready."

"Thanks, Baby Love. Why are you so good to me?"

"I ask God that every minute of every day, my Cariño."

***

Waeltz stood in the cozy den surrounded by war memorabilia. The walls were of a wooden foundation, the furniture soft leather, and bookshelves aligned the walls stuffed with books about strategy. Waeltz thumbed through the collection. Some he'd read, some he hadn't. There was Sun Tzu's The Art of War, Robert Greene's The 48 Laws of Power, and Che Guerra's journals to books written about General Patton, and General Albert C. Wedemeyer. The smell of fifty year old cognac and Marlboro filled the small room. He'd spent many days in this room hiding under the desk in the dark with a flashlight reading books. It was his secret fort when he didn't want to hear the screams. His mom always told him that he wasn't hurting her, that it was just something that grownups did and he would understand when he was older. He'd wanted to believe his mother but the scars on her wrist and legs made it hard to. It wasn't until his mother passed and he went away to live with his father that he finally understood and stopped hating Witherspoon. He learned that his mother wasn't being hurt. She was just a freak. She and Witherspoon were into really deep, dark sex. Witherspoon had kept contact with him over the years and was the main influence on him becoming a cop. No one knew of their past. Waeltz knew that Witherspoon was pissed about the way everything went down. That's why he was there to see how he could help with the situation.

The truth was that Waeltz admired Witherspoon. He felt a sense of pride looking at the older man sitting behind his desk. A framed picture of General Robert E. Lee hung behind him on the wall. He was prepared to do whatever he needed to help clear his name even if it meant risking his career.

"I had to do it like this, sir," Waeltz explained.

"Did you now?"

"Yes, sir. I couldn't warn you. I didn't know what you would do. You may have—"

"Ran?" Witherspoon asked cutting him off midsentence.

Waeltz cleared his throat.

Witherspoon continued. "You think I'm guilty."

Waeltz remained silent.

Witherspoon spoke again. "It's alright if you doubt my innocence. Just stand there and be a man and say it to my face."

"Truth is, sir... I don't know."

"I won't go down without a fight."

Waeltz approached his desk and pressed both balled up fists down onto the oak making sure the chief had his direct attention. He stared into his eyes. "You won't go down at all if I have anything to do with it."

"You speak like a man with a plan."

"A good plan violently executed now is better than a perfect plan executed next week."

Witherspoon reclined in his seat and swiveled. "Patton," Witherspoon responded referring to General Patton.

"Yes, sir. I studied just like you taught me."

"Studying is one thing but can you execute?"

"Tu Mu says: Your surviving spy must be a man of keen intellect, though in outward appearance a fool; of shabby exterior, but with a will of iron. He must be active, robust, endowed with physical strength and courage; thoroughly accustomed to all sorts of dirty work, able to endure hunger and cold, and to put up with shame and ignominy. To pull this off sir, I will be the biggest fool my enemy has ever seen."

"There will be some collateral damage."

Waeltz picked up the bottle of cognac, poured himself a drink, and held the glass in the air as if making a toast. "We can't save everybody. It is inevitable in all wars that there will be lost on both sides."

***

The next morning as Black made his way downstairs into the living room he cleared his throat loudly purposely awaking James and Teresa who were still asleep on the couch. He didn't know how he should feel about the situation. It was already weird enough with Teresa being there. Throwing James, her other man, into the mix was another story altogether. He shook the thought making his way to the kitchen to make coffee. "You two sleep well?" he asked over his shoulder.

James didn't respond. He simply stood and stretched.

Teresa squinted her eyes with an annoyed, tired look on her face. "What time is it? It's still dark outside."

"A little after 6 A.M," Black responded from the kitchen "Anyone want coffee?"

"I'll take a cup," James responded as he moved towards the kitchen.

"You've gotta be freaking kidding me. I'm going back to bed," Teresa mumbled as she headed towards the stairs to her room.

James sat at on a barstool at the kitchen island as the coffee began to percolate. "What now?" he asked as Black placed two coffee cups on the counter. "Where do we stand? What now? Or the next step in Teresa's case... what now?"

"Depends on your level of honesty."

"Honesty?"

As the room began to fill with the smell of fresh brewed coffee Black moved towards the refrigerator. "Milk or cream?"

"Black," James responded as he held his empty mug in the air.

Black returned with the pot of fresh coffee, filled James' cup, and then his own. "Be honest with me, bro... since you helped me out with my little squabble last night do you not like me any less?"

James took a hefty swallow of the strong hot coffee before for responding. "Not at all. I still don't like you much."

"Good. I would hate to think it was a one way thing. So from here we keep this line of being civil with one another going for the sake of Teresa. I get the sense that you care about her but it's something about you that's not quite right. She may not see it but that's why I'm here."

"Is it now?"

Black sipped his coffee. "Damn right."

Morena entered the kitchen surprised to see that James was still there. Her eyebrow rose as she made eye contact with Black with a 'what the fuck' look in her eye. Black returned the look with a 'we'll discuss it later' look in his. It was something that the two often did; a form of non-verbal communication. They'd learned to read one another well.

"You guys want breakfast?" she asked as she opened the refrigerator and removed a carton of eggs.

Black didn't respond. He sipped his coffee giving James the evil eye as James smirked menacingly.

Chapter Seven

Black stepped into the precinct where he was greeted by Waeltz and immediately led down to the basement through a damp and cool corridor. They walked until they came upon a three inch steel door. Black paused and looked around the room he was in. "What is this place?"

"We call it the catacombs."

"Catacombs? Like a cemetery? There are bodies down here?"

Waeltz smirked, turned, and pulled a little harder than Black had expected to get the door open. "Be serious, Love. Why would we keep dead bodies in the basement of a police station?"

"I am being serious. You tell me why would the basement of a police station even be considered a crime scene for a work place rape?"

Waeltz didn't respond. He just stepped to the side as the crime scene investigators entered with equipment in tow. In comparison to the corridor that led to the catacombs, the inside was surprisingly well illuminated. There were rows and rows of shelves packed with boxes upon boxes.

"What are these? Cold cases?" Black asked referring to the boxes he assumed were filled with files and evidence from cold case files. That's what they called unsolved crimes: cold cases.

"Yeah. We don't get down here often. Don't have the man power, money, or resources to keep many cases going."

It was now Black's turn to remain silent. He carefully walked around the room looking for anything that didn't belong and could possibly link the three officers to Teresa's rape. He had put in a request to have a forensics team from a neighboring county to perform the DNA sweep for evidence but was denied by the District Attorney in charge of the case. He had his reservations about how bias the team he was relying on would be. These were officers they were used to working with and in a small town like Danville he wouldn't be surprised if some of them were related to one of the three accused. He couldn't worry about that now. He had to have faith in the law. He knew it wasn't perfect but he believed in the constitution and his oath as an officer of the courts was something that he took very seriously.

Black slid on a pair of plastic gloves and watched as crime scene investigators opened silver metallic cases and removed spray bottles. They went on to spray various locations in the room beginning with the stainless steel table. They then turned off the lights in the room and turned on a portable black light. The room lit up with various stains that were once invisible to the naked eye. Black remained silent with his game face on. He had to keep his composure. He didn't want to show any weakness. On the outside he was cold as ice but on the inside his mind he was screaming, "Run! Turn and get out of here!" He knew that the stains he saw were secretions from the rapists and possibly blood from Teresa. It made him wonder if this had been the first time that something like this had happened. He wanted to question the female officers that worked there. He knew it would be a slim chance that they'd cooperate. He filed the thought in the back of his mind with the intent to re-visit it if this hunt for evidence didn't turn up anything pertinent.

"A lot of fluids in here," Waeltz said stating the obvious.

Black grunted.

They both watched as the crime technicians collected samples and sprayed SPERM HY-LITER, a fluorescent monoclonal antibody-based kit used for the microscopic identification of sperm from sexual assault evidence.

Waeltz continued. "I doubt we get anything out of here we can use... print wise anyway."

"Prints would be nice. That would place them in the basement but I'm assuming every officer who works here has access to the catacombs correct?"

"True. There would be no real reason for uniformed officers to be searching cold case files but there are no official restrictions in place preventing them access."

"So if we do find prints they could have left them the night of the rape or two months ago."

"Right again. No way to tell."

Black watched as they began brushing for prints.

Waeltz stood back and watched Black. "You want to tell me what happened last night, Love?"

"You're asking like you already know."

"I want your side of the story."

"Sorry, Waeltz. Fresh out of stories."

"Have it your way. Just remember having it your way it may not turn out pretty."

Black continued watching the forensics team never giving Waeltz any eye contact. "Your warning is noted."

"Have you always been this way, Love?"

"How's that, Waeltz?"

"Stubborn."

"What's that?" Black asked now facing Waeltz.

"You're not doing this alone. I'm here to help."

"It's appreciated."

"It doesn't seem like it."

"Are you looking for applause for doing your job?"

"Not at all."

"I don't see the problem then. What do I need to be appreciative of? You haven't made any crucial breakthrough in this case so forgive me if I don't break my neck trying to give you that hand job you think you need."

"Funny, Love. All I'm saying is—"

Black cut him off. "Can we stick to the case at hand?"

"Sure can, Counselor."

"Thank you," Black said as he turned and made his way to the door. "Send over what you find to my office."

"Sure thing."

Black paused and turned back to face Waeltz. "Is there another exit out of here?"

"Not that I know of... I mean... possibly."

"Possibly?" Black asked rubbing his hands across his bald head.

"Follow me," Waeltz said not waiting for a response from Black as he led the way towards the rear of the room and down the long hall that turned and curved as they came upon a dead end.

"What's this? A dead end?" Black asked throwing his hands in the air.

"A possible exit," Waeltz responded pointing up to the ceiling.

Black looked up in the direction Waeltz was pointing to and spotted a door in the ceiling.

"Does this lead back into the station some place?"

"I don't think so. You saw how far we walked along the hall down here. If I had to guess I would say we were out back some place."

"You've never used it or heard of anyone using it?"

"Nope. Only thing comes to mind is old stories my mom used to tell me about great, great grandma being an abolitionist and helping with the Underground Railroad. She never had proof. Just sort of took her word for it. She always told me there were tunnels and hidden rooms in most of the old homes around here."

"Well let's find out where it leads," Black said as he jumped to push the door open. It didn't budge.

Waeltz held is hands up causing Black to pause. "Wait a minute. First we have to dust it for prints and secondly we can get a few uniforms down here with a ladder and help push it open. Obviously it's jammed."

Black nodded in approval. It didn't take long for Waeltz to return with two crime scene technicians and two uniformed officers carrying a ladder. Black impatiently waited for CSI to dust for prints then watched as the two officers and Waeltz worked together to force the door open. There was a loud thud above their heads. Waeltz was finally able to get the door to open slightly; just enough to fit his body through up to his waist. Although it was a struggle he was able to push away the desk that was blocking the door from opening. Finally he was able to shove the door open. Climbing out, he stood to the side looking around the shed as Black climbed up and out behind him. Together they surveyed the room.

"What is this place?" Black asked, dusting the dirt off of his suit jacket and trousers.

"Looks like it may be the old shed out back."

"Let me guess... the department doesn't get out here much either right?"

"Not really. Place should have been torn down years ago."

They both stepped outside. About 200 yards away they could see the back of the police station. Following the dirt path in the grass made from years and years of people trampling through the grass they wound up on a side street with a side view of the police station. As both men stood in silence caught up in their own thoughts they were startled back into the here and now as Brown, the local homeless man, appeared from out of nowhere.

"What are you doing around here?" Waeltz spat out angrily.

"Minding my business," Brown said as he went on his way.

Feeling embarrassed, Waeltz began to go after the man.

Black placed his hand on Waeltz's chest stopping him. "Leave him alone. Let's stick to the matter at hand."

Waeltz angrily pushed Black's hand away. He wanted to pursue the issue and put the smart mouthed bum in his place but he knew Love was right so he pushed it out of his mind.

"What does this mean, Waeltz?"

"Not sure yet. Let's see what the other pieces of the puzzle look like first. But we won't know that until we get the results CSU collected back."

"Speaking of pieces of the puzzle... what did you find out about our friend?"

"I did a little digging around and finding skeletons wasn't as hard as you might think."

"Uh-huh."

"Before I joined the department there was an unsolved homicide... my sources say he should have gone down for the body."

"Cover up?"

"He's dirty alright."

"What's his connection to the chief other than the department?"

"Still working on it."

"Keep me apprised," Black responded as he walked off towards the replacement truck he was now renting.

Waeltz didn't respond. He just watched as Black drove off.
Chapter Eight

The next morning Black rushed out of the building, hopped into his truck, slammed the door closed, and strapped on his seatbelt. He turned the car on, shifted into drive, and then peeled away from the curb. He'd just received a call from Waeltz saying the lab report was back. He was surprised that it had gotten done so quickly. Waeltz said they'd found something so he was meeting him at Foster's to search for evidence. The case was finally starting to go somewhere. It was nearly a forty minute drive to reach Foster's home. When he arrived at the address that Waeltz had given him, he parked and made his way to the door. Black felt apprehensive about the situation. There were no squad cars onsite, only Waeltz's vehicle. The neighborhood was quiet. At mid-day most people were still at work or school, he surmised. Foster, a single woman with no children, lived in a neighborhood that appeared to be more family orientated. Foster's car wasn't parked in the drive-way. Black approached the front door with apprehension. It was slightly cracked. Examining closer he noticed the frame of the door was splintered as if it had been kicked in. Looking around the neighborhood before entering, he turned back to the door and gently nudged it open.

"Waeltz, you in here?" he yelled as he slowly stepped in to find the place in a shambles. Stepping over broken picture frames and lamps he made his way to the center of the living room.

"Back here!" Waeltz responded.

Black made his way towards the sound of Waeltz's voice. Stepping around a coffee table and sofa that were both flipped over then bending the corner into a hall that led to a bedroom, he found Waeltz standing over Foster's bed peering into a shoe box. Black stood half way in the hall and half way in the room. His eyes scanned the area. It was no different from the living room. All of her things were everywhere.

"What is this Waeltz?"

"What's what? It's like I told you. The lab geeks found a trace of Teresa's blood mixed with a soft plastic, such as flexible vinyl, and a strand of hair that just happens to be the same color as Foster's"

"And that means what?"

"Well according to the geeks they say it is synonymous with a material that strap-ons are made out of."

"Uh-huh."

"And if you remember from Teresa's report she was attacked with a strap on."

"Okay... but what are we doing here like this? Where's the warrant? Why does it look like a B&E?"

Just as Waeltz held up the warrant Foster stormed into the room wedging herself in between Waeltz and Black. "What the hell is this?" she yelled as she snatched the paper from Waeltz's hand.

"A warrant to search the premises," Waeltz responded as he pushed her to the side and made his way towards the door.

"On what grounds?" she demanded as she took up the rear following behind Black as they all headed outside. By this point the neighbors were outside watching.

"Probable cause... looking for, and found, evidence that will indicate you in the rape of Teresa Prince."

"The hell you did!" she screamed staring at the box.

Waeltz held the box in the air and smiled. She balled the warrant up and tossed it on the ground. She flipped the bird to Waeltz and Black, grabbed her crouch, turned, and then stormed in her house slamming the door closed.

"That is one pissed dude!" Waeltz said laughing as he watched Black pick up the balled up piece of paper and unfold it.

He glanced over the paper and looked to Waeltz un-believingly. "This is a warrant for drugs."

"So?"

"It's not even for this address."

"A warrant is a warrant."

"It's dated six months ago with someone else's name on it."

Waeltz hunched his shoulders as Black shoved the paper into his chest. Waeltz watched it hit the ground. "Didn't want to take the chance of her getting rid of evidence while I chased down a judge for a warrant."

"You've got to be kidding me right? Tell me you didn't just make me an accessory after the fact."

"Don't worry, Love. This case is a slam dunk. I've gotten convictions with less,"

he said as he raised the strap-on from the box and dangled in the air. "That look like blood to you?" Waeltz asked as he held it closer to Black's face.

Black turned and headed for his vehicle.

"Love, wait! We need to get our stories straight."

Black stopped and turned towards Waeltz angrily. Spit flew as he spoke. "Stories straight? You're joking right? I was never here and I don't want to hear about anything you may or may not have obtained from Officer Foster's home."

"Don't get high and moral on me now, Mr. Chi-Raq! I know how y'all get down in the city. It's been that way for years from Capone to the Daley's to Blagojevich to Jessie Jackson Jr. and Mr. Barrack Hussein...right down to Yes-I- Can Obama himself."

Did he want to get in a verbal spat with Waeltz over the blatant disrespectful and racist overtone he made with his statement or just show him how they really got down in Chi-Raq as he put it and break his nose? He chose neither. "I believe in the law and due process. I was sworn to up-hold it. I thought you were a man that possibly held similar values. What's done in the dark will soon come to light."

"Yeah, yeah... I know. And what goes up must come down. Keep your clichés. I close cases."

Black snatched his door open, got in, slammed the door closed, and turned the engine on as he rolled down the window and stuck his head out. "Not with me, not in this way. And for your information I worked on the Cain campaign asshole!" he blurted out before putting the truck in drive and pulling off.

***
Chapter Nine

The night was calm and soothing. Black and Morena enjoyed the melodic sounds of calypso. Morena lay in his arms on the back yard deck listening to Harry Belafonte's 'Jamaica Farwell'. A week had gone by and the D.A. still hadn't decided if she would file charges against the chief, Foster, and Hunter. He was getting pressure from back home to wrap this case up and get back to Chicago. Cases were piling up and he was one of the best D.A.s in the state. He took a sip of the strawberry daiquiri Morena whipped up for them. Truth was he was ready to put all of this behind him as well; win, lose, or draw, something needed to happen. A tap on the sliding door took him out of his thoughts. He raised himself slightly from the beach chair and peered over Morena's shoulder to look behind them. He nodded his head. Teresa smiled, slid the door open, and stepped outside.

"Hey guys," she said as she copped a squat in a chair next to the couple. She still hadn't moved back into her apartment.

"Hey, girl. You have fun tonight?" Morena asked referring to her night out with James. They had been seeing more of one another since the night he'd stayed up with her all night talking.

"Yeah, it was cool," she answered trying desperately to fight back her smile.

"Just cool, huh?"

"Yeah, it was aight."

Morena laughed. "Girl, you are a horrible liar."

Black remained silent as he sipped his drink. He was astonished that the two were getting along so well. He still didn't like the idea of Teresa being with James but he couldn't tell her that, especially not in front of Morena. He wondered if it was jealousy. Shaking the thought off, he shifted his position altering Morena's. She frowned and nudged Black in his ribs with her elbow.

"Be still," Morena complained.

"I am still. Shit. Y'all can carry that in the house. You killing my vibe with that yammering. Me and Belafonte on some relaxing shit out here."

The women looked at one another with their mouths open in shock then looked to him and laughed. Morena stood, grabbed the pitcher of daiquiri, and began walking towards the house. Teresa followed behind still laughing.

"You hear that, girl? Kill his vibe? I keep telling him he ain't 19 no more... trying to sound hip. Girl, he is crazy," Morena said laughing.

Teresa shook her head thinking the same thing.

Black sat smiling as he watched the two women disappear. The circumstances behind the three of them being together was horrible but he had to admit that he liked the way it felt and he would enjoy it even if it was only temporary. He knew eventually it would end one way or another.

***

Black awoke with a hangover. His head was banging, mouth was dry, and stomach was growling. 8 A.M. It was later than he usually woke up. He rolled over in bed to find that he was lying alone. He sat up and looked around the room. The bathroom door was open and the light was off. He grudgingly climbed from bed and went through his morning regiment of working out; push-ups and sit-ups. He did a hundred of each in half the time he normally would have then took a shower and was dressed in record time. Exiting his room he listened to see if he could hear Morena and Teresa talking. The house was silent minus the sound of his steps across the carpet. Pausing at Teresa's room he looked at his watch. It was almost 9 A.M. Pressing his ear against her door he listened. He was typically gone by this time so he had no idea what time she got up and started moving around. After listening for several seconds and hearing nothing he figured she was either still asleep or gone. He continued down the stairs and out of the house.

He cruised towards his office in the truck tuning the dial to channel 126 on Sirius XM's Urban View station. He caught the middle of the discussion about the events in Ferguson. Ferguson Missouri, he thought. The more things change the more they stay the same. It was going into well over a week of civil unrest for the small town. Protests had begun after an 18 year old boy was gunned down by an officer and police moved in military style with flash grenades and tanks. The guests on the show, politicians and a former police chief, were giving their perspectives on the situation. Black half listened as he drove. Thoughts of his own personal drama in regards to the crooked police filled his head. He did not care. His faith would not waiver. Although it was fractured the system was not broken. A fracture can always heal. Things would get better. He would do his part to see to that. He slammed on his brakes and they screeched as he came to an abrupt stop. It was too late. He had gone through a red light causing him to bump into a man crossing the street. He instinctively looked in his rearview mirror. Seeing no cars behind him he shifted into park and got out of the truck. Before he made it to the front of the truck to help him, the man was back on his feet. Although he walked with a limp he was moving.

"You alright. Sir?" he asked the man.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Black helped him to the sidewalk. "Don't I know you?" He sized the man up trying to recollect where he'd seen him before.

"Maybe, maybe not."

"I'm sorry. My mind was someplace else. Can I offer you a few dollars for the trouble?" Black removed his wallet, thumbed through some bills, and then pulled out a hundred dollar bill. He extended it to the man.

The man pushed his hand back. "Yes, you can offer me two things and cash is not necessarily one of them."

Black stepped back staring at the stranger skeptically. "And what would that be, uh.....what's your name?"

"Brown. Everyone calls me Brown," the man said as he extended his hand for a handshake.

Black took the man's hand into his and shook it firmly. "Black. Call me Black."

"No shit, Black?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well I'll be. Black and Brown. Ain't we a pair?"

Black laughed with the homeless man. "Yes, sir, we are. So tell me what is it that I can do for you?"

"Lunch."

"Yes! Lunch is on me." He offered the man the cash again. "Do whatever you like with the money."

"No," Brown said shaking his head. "Me, you... lunch right now. You treat. Those are the two things you can do for me. Spring for lunch and do me the honor of some good conversation over a light meal."

"I don't have time for this. This morning I have to get to work."

"No time?"

"Sorry."

"I understand. Enjoy your day counselor and start paying more attention to them lights."

Brown began walking in the other direction.

Black watched as he limped away. The dusty old man hadn't even taken the money. Black rubbed his hand across his freshly shaven head. Cars were beginning to line up blowing their horns impatiently behind his car, waiting to get past as he was blocking traffic on the one way street. He climbed back into his truck, shifted in drive, and pulled off. He watched in his rearview as Brown turned the corner out of his sight. He sped up as he drove around the corner, down the block, and then turned another corner before coming to a screeching stop. He smiled as the old man threw his hands on the hood to brace himself as the truck stopped in front of him.

"You trying to hit me, boy?" Brown yelled as he limped towards the driver's side.

Black rolled the window down. "Get in! Let's go eat."

"That's what I'm talking about," Brown said as he made his way to the passenger side. He was in and buckled up in seconds. Black accelerated the gas pedal and they were off.

***

She couldn't have written a better scenario for a love story if she wanted to. She wore a low cut white sundress and no shoes with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. He wore a short sleeve collared white Banana Republic button up with the top two buttons left undone. She stole glimpses at the sweat glistening from his muscular chest. Her eyes roamed down to his white khaki shorts and strong legs matching his upper body. They walked arm in arm as he carried her sandals. It was funny how things turned out, she thought as they walked to the outside dining area at the Wildcat Creek Winery in Lafayette Indiana. It was an hour's drive from Illinois. It was nice what he was doing; getting her away and taking her mind off of the drama that was going on. She didn't know if it was his intention or not but the afternoon was very romantic. She hadn't felt this good in a really long time.

The wind blew as the couple sat at the wooden picnic table underneath the wooden pillars. The smell of freshly mowed grass made Teresa feel good. The waitress came and James took the initiative by ordering for the both of them. He ordered two bottles of wine, choosing the Cayuga White and a bottle of the Prophet's Rock Red. He also ordered crackers and Camembert and a Burrata cheese. Teresa smiled as she stared into his eyes from across the table.

He studied her expression. "What's funny?" he asked as he took her hands into his.

He noticed that she didn't jump this time or pull away. He started to mention it but didn't know how she may react and he didn't want to ruin the mood.

"Nothing." She scrunched her shoulders. "Just happy I suppose."

He smiled back. "Happy is good."

She placed her feet on top of his crouch underneath the table. He instantly became erect. She laughed. "Feels like someone else is happy as well."

He smiled sheepishly. "He's good too."

She laughed aloud. "Is he now?"

"I ain't saying a word."

The waitress returned with their order. The couple exchanged glances yet neither said a word as she placed their snack and wine on the table.

"Is there a specific wine you'd prefer to sample first?" the waitress asked as she pointed at the two bottles placed on the table.

"Could you open both please and pour one in each glass?" James asked. "We'll sample both if you don't mind."

"Of course, sir," she replied as she began un-corking the bottles and pouring the wine. After both of the glasses of wine were poured she was off.

The couple slowly sipped their wine. Teresa, with her feet still in James's lap, playfully ran her foot up and down his thigh as she spread Camembert across a cracker. She leaned across the table and fed it to James. She laughed merrily.

He laughed. "There you go again... that laugh."

She batted her eyes in a mischievous manner. "What?"

He laughed again wagging his finger. "Yeah you... what is it?"

"Nothing... it's just that you almost took my finger off when you bit into that cracker. Hungry tail was 'bout to take the finger and all."

He let out a boisterous laugh. "I did not."

"Shoot... I don't know, man. Let me count." She held up her hand and began counting her fingers. "One, two, three, and four...and one thumb."

"There you go," he said playfully waving her off.

"Ahh, her hurt him feelings?"

"Quite to the contrary, Ms. Comedian. You have healed them."

She smiled back flirtatiously and he took a sip from his glass. They both became silent as they were enthralled into a seductive stare down. Teresa found James' glare so intense that she was the first to break from the stare. She looked down at the table feeling her soul shimmer. He did something to her that she didn't expect. She'd seen this look before. It was beyond the lustful, passion filled stare down that she'd gotten from men from the time she was younger. This look was different. She'd seen it only once in her life and it came from Black. He loved her. Love, she thought. She didn't want to love. Career first, log in some vacation time and travel to Paris or Greece, get wild... maybe live out a sexual fantasy or two, then when she met the right man, and only then, would she fall in love. She knew it was wrong. She swallowed the saliva that was forming in her mouth, took a sip of wine, squeezed James' hands tighter, and then returned her glance back to his. It was almost too late. She loved him too.

***

Black and his new friend Brown sat in the restaurant eating. Black ordered a chicken salad while Brown had smothered chicken, mac and cheese, greens and cornbread. Brown tore into the food like a wild jackal on a rabbit. Black sipped his iced tea and ate his salad but not as quickly as Brown rather at a steady pace. He was mindful that he still needed to get back to the office. He felt bad about hitting the old man and felt he needed to make amends.

"What do you want to talk about Brown?" he asked the older gentleman.

"I don't know."

"Well it has to be something."

"Well..."

"Yeah?"

"I been wanting to know how that lady was doing."

"You mean Ms. Prince?" Black asked raising his eyebrow.

"Is that her name? I just call her ma'am."

Black sat his fork on the plate, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and sat it on the table. "How do you know Ms. Prince?"

"She was always nice to me. One of the only ones really. She didn't run me away or turn her nose up at me. We came here once or twice for lunch. Yeah... she's a real nice lady. Are you going to lock them police up that did this to her? I don't like police much. A lot of 'em more crooked than the crooks they lock up."

Black laughed. "You're right, Brown. A lot of them are and I am trying my best to make sure that justice prevails."

"It's me. It's Brown, baby!" Brown said pointing both thumbs at himself. "Don't give me that slick courtroom talk. Shoot it to me straight, baby. If you gonna lock 'em up say you gonna lock 'em up. Punk muthas... put 'em up under the jail!"

Black leaned back in his seat and watched Brown eat and mumble to himself angrily. "Ms. Prince must really mean a lot to you."

"I hate punk ass bullies and I hate people who fuck over good people. Ms. Prince... she good people."

Black smiled. "Yes she is. She is good people. And thank you, Brown."

"For what? I didn't do nothing but get hit by a car." Brown burst into a fit of laughter. As he laughed his mouth opened wide. Black tried not to cringe looking into his jagged mouth filled with half chewed food.

Black chuckled. "For being a good friend to Teresa and having lunch with me today."

"No problem, Black. Just do me a solid."

"What's that?"

"Make sure all them cops get what they deserve."

"I'll do my best."

"I mean all of 'em. The Black one too."

"The black one? Did you see something? What Black one?"

"No, I didn't see nothing."

"What are you talking about, Brown? What's the real reason you wanted to talk to me?"

"You the law... figure it out. I done said enough." Brown jumped up from his seat, grabbed a handful of dinner rolls, and shoved them into his jacket pocket. He guzzled his drink, slammed his glass on the table, and then grabbed the last piece of chicken from his plate.

"Wait a minute, Brown. Let me give you a ride. Where are you going? We can talk about this"

"I'm done talking. Thanks for the lunch, counselor." he began moving towards the door.

Black pulled out his wallet and dropped a fifty dollar bill on the table. Grabbing his suit jacket from the back of the chair he ran to the exit looking for Brown. His eyes scanned from left to right then up and down the block. The old man was nowhere to be seen. Black cursed as he made his way back to his truck.
Chapter Ten

They'd had been a beautiful afternoon. Teresa felt as if she was walking on clouds. James had dropped her off several hours ago and now she sat staring out the sliding patio door deep in thought.

Morena stood behind her silently watching her as she watched nothing. "How is everything Teresa?"

Startled by Morena's voice, Teresa quickly turned to face her. She smiled, placed her hand on her chest, and then ran her fingers across the ring she had dangling on a gold chain around her neck.

As Morena approached her smiling she took notice of the engagement ring around Teresa's neck. She smiled.

"Everything is better," Teresa replied in an upbeat tone. "Seems to get better every day."

Morena smiled. "What's this?" she asked as she gently cupped the ring in her hand.

Teresa pulled the ring from her grasp. Feeling uncomfortable she stepped back. "Oh this....a friend gave it to me."

Morena stepped back herself. With her hands on hips she sucked her teeth. "A friend?"

Teresa felt herself becoming blanketed in discomfort. She didn't speak. She nodded yes and diverted her eyes to the floor.

"Would this friend be Black?"

"Yes but..."

"But what? I have gone way beyond anything a woman in my situation would have done to help you and beyond that I was a fool enough to actually believe, despite the circumstances of how we met, that we were actually becoming friends."

"We are. You don't understand."

"I understand perfectly. You make friends with snakes. Don't be surprised when you get bit. I should've known better."

Teresa wanted to talk to her about things but this was not the way she pictured the conversation going. "Morena, will you just listen please?"

"I'm done listening. Can you just go?"

"No! Not until I've said what I have to say."

"Let's not do this, Teresa. Just make it easy on us both and go—"

Teresa cut her off mid-sentence, holding her hand in her face. "You see this?"

Morena stepped back and looked closer at Teresa's hand through squinted eyes. She was holding up her left hand and on her ring finger sat a diamond engagement ring. Morena remained silent. She didn't know what Teresa was about to say so she was holding her breath.

"He asked me to marry him today," Teresa confessed. "James proposed."

Morena smiled from ear to ear. It wasn't so much that she was happy for Teresa and James but more so because it was looking more like the chances of Teresa and Black getting back together was close to none existent. Morena still had her reservations though. Women were some conniving creatures. She knew first hand she'd done some things she wasn't proud of in her past. She kept that in mind causing her to remain cautious of Teresa being around her man.

"You said yes?" Morena asked.

"I told him I was undecided."

Morena sighed. Teresa gave her a reassuring glance that said she could relax because she didn't want Black. At least Teresa hoped that message was conveyed in her look. Lord knows she didn't want to beat that dead horse anymore. Living there with her ex and his current fiancée was awkward enough.

"Undecided?" Morena asked. "You're wearing his ring though."

"I didn't accept it at first. I told him it was a bit much a bit too fast and I didn't want to give him a false sense of hope or lead him on."

Morena nodded, keeping silent.

Teresa continued. "He insisted that I keep it. He said that although he'd be disappointed and hurt if I decided I didn't want to marry him that he'd bought the ring for me and he wanted me to have it regardless."

Morena chuckled. "You know how these men are, girl... once they give you a gift they damn near feel like they own you. Something like an engagement ring... you never know... in his mind once you took that ring the wedding certificate was signed."

Teresa laughed. "Girl, I know. But if he goes flip mode on me he can have this thing back and go on about his business. But I have a good feeling about this. I'm taking my time but it feels good."

Morena placed her hands on Teresa's shoulders and rubbed her arms. "Well, that's good for you."

Teresa smiled.

Morena continued. "If James is your possible new future, why are you still grasping to the past?" She motioned towards the ring dangling from the chain around Teresa's neck.

Subconsciously, Teresa reached for the ring and held it. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"Black wasn't lying when he said we have a special connection. I was. I was in denial. I just wanted to move on and forget he ever existed. Not because I was bitter or I hated him, but because it was easier to forget him rather than to recognize that he is special to me and be forced to think of him knowing that I will never be with him again. That make sense?"

"Sounds like you're still in love to me."

Teresa grimaced. "Not at all. We were friends before we were lovers. I loved him before I was ever in love with him and the fact that he has come here and risked losing a woman as good as you to make sure I'm okay lets me know that he still loves me. That doesn't mean he's in love with me. I'm glad that he's accepted that. I'm glad that he's met you. I'm also glad that not only he, but you and James have all made me realize that it's okay for me to love him back. And that is the reason I've kept his ring close to my heart. Will I always keep it here or at all for that matter? No, I'm sure I won't. But right now it just feels right."

"It all sounds a little suspect to me but at least you were honest with me."

"You still want me to leave?"

Morena rolled her eyes. "Girl, your little skinny tail is welcome here as long as you like."

"Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you."

"Did you tell Black about James yet?"

"No."

"Hmmm."

"Hmmm what?"

"I've told Black he acts more like he's your father than anything and he does not like James at all. Just curious how he'll react."

"Can you keep this between us? It's awkward enough around here already. It's like you said, these men want to act like they own you and I don't want to go through this big long speech with him like I did with you."

Morena bit into her bottom lip. "Okay." She turned to head back towards the kitchen. Teresa placed her hand on the woman's shoulder.

Morena stopped and turned to face Teresa. "Yes?"

"There's something else if you don't mind."

"Of course not."

"It's that whole patient client thing again."

Morena held her arm out gesturing towards the sofa. "Let's sit." She followed behind Teresa as she led the way towards the sofa and took a seat. "What's on your mind?" Morena asked crossing her legs as she sat beside Teresa.

"I haven't been sleeping...re-occurring nightmares. I was hoping you could tell me what it means."

"I can try but you know dreams are open to interpretation."

"I understand."

"What happens in the dream?"

Teresa inhaled and slowly exhaled. "I'm back in that basement of the police station and I'm being attacked again."

Morena sat quietly and listened staring back through un-judging eyes.

"I'm whimpering like a weak defeated dog," Teresa stated.

"You're no dog."

"Any way, as I plead with those animals the room becomes mute and off into the shadows I see a figure and hear a sound."

"A sound?"

"Yes. I know it but I can't place it. Girl that is the creepiest part of the dream. It's like my mind is trying to tell me something and trying to figure out what that sound is... it's driving me insane."

"Can you describe the sound?"

Teresa drew in a long breath of air through her mouth. "Like that."

"Like someone sucking through a straw?"

"Never thought of that. Sort of but louder."

"Like what? A vacuum cleaner?"

"No. We can guess all day what the sound might have been. I need you to tell me what the dream means."

"How did this dream leave you feeling?"

Teresa stood and began to pace the room. "At first I felt afraid."

"Why did you have fear? You said you only saw a shadow. Did the shadow harm you in some way in the dream?"

"Physically, no."

"Then how so?"

"He, if it's a he... maybe a woman... I don't know. The thing harmed me mentally and emotionally. I felt violated on another level. I was being watched while being raped. Like it was a matinee."

"What are the principal emotions arising from this dream?"

"Fear, anger... is creeped out an emotion?" Teresa half-heartedly laughed.

"I can't truly answer the question of what your dream means. Only you can in your waking hours. You have experienced something that has taken root in your mind and has manifested itself in the form of a dream. All I can say is be honest about your feelings and emotions. In reality, your dreams will hardly ever tell you something that you don't already know on some level. It's just more likely that you have been repressing or pushing something aside."

"How do I bring it to the forefront and put it behind me?"

"First thing I would suggest is stop looking at it as a negative. It is not here to haunt you. What has happened to you has already happened. That occurrence can't hurt you anymore. View your dream as a compass to what's going on in your life at the moment. The key thing to remember is that there are no rules to dream interpretation and so there are no rights or wrongs to the interpretation process. It's all down to your self-honesty, self-knowledge, and your willingness to apply your dream knowledge to your waking life situations."

"Thank you," Teresa said unsure of herself. "I'll try."

"And take it back to the old school... warm tea and honey before bed always helps. Take your mind to a happy place before bed, reminisce about a happy moment in your life, pray or meditate."

"I'll try."

"Good." Morena stood and smiled before heading up to her room.

Teresa was left just as she was almost an hour ago, alone with her thoughts. She wanted to believe that what Morena suggested would work but deep down she had a feeling that it wouldn't.

Chapter Eleven

As Black pulled up to the government building where his office was located his vehicle was swamped with not only news reporters but also protesters. He stepped out of his vehicle and began to move towards the entrance. With his head held low and cameras flashing, he ignored the questions being hurled at him. From the corner of his eye he spotted a bus pulling up with what he presumed to be more protestors, possibly from out of state. Officers wearing riot gear armed with batons, mace, and police dogs advanced on the crowd. Black found himself in the middle wedged between the police and the protestors. None had made a move on the other and Black was praying that neither would, at least not with him in the middle. He felt a tug at his left arm and a tug at his right as if he was being sandwiched in. His head swiveled from left to right. He spotted Waeltz to the left of him and James to the right. They were acting as shields, escorting him to the entrance. The sound of police on bullhorns and protesters yelling, "No Means No!" filled the air.

Just as he reached the door a glass bottle shattered against the wall. Black was shoved into the building and the door was closed. James watched as Waeltz and Black joined the other officers trying to contain the crowd. Black stared in awe as a fire truck pulled up and the water cannons were released on the chanting crowd of men, women, and children. He didn't know what to do. He had a strong yielding to rush out into the crowd and join the protestors but his more sensible side felt as if it were a losing battle. He wanted to win the war and knew that his battle would be fought soon enough in the court room.

He marched down the hall towards his office, walked in, and immediately paused. The lead District Attorney for Vermillion County, Jordan Benton, sat in his office. She was young, attractive, smart, and ruthless. The height of a runway model with the stature and build of an Olympic runner, her frame filled out the two piece skirt and jacket suit she was wearing perfectly. The skirt was black with pencil thin white stripes. The jacket was the same color. She wore the top button unloosened showing off her bosom perched perfectly above the v-line. Her brunette hair was pulled back in a bun and her strong Greek features were prominent in her almost bronzed skin tone. They had gone to the University Of Illinois College Of Law in Champaign Illinois together. They were friendly rivals, often engaging in mock law debates against one another. They pushed each other to be better. During their last year in school they had a friendly romp in the hay. It never went past that. They both agreed it was just to blow off some steam and relieve stress before they took the bar exam. The friendship never faltered or changed but they never spoke of the incident again. Eventually they graduated and went their separate ways but never lost contact.

"What is this about, Jordan?" he asked his boss/colleague, calling her by her first name, while staring out the window at the ruckus between the police and protestors.

"You haven't heard?"

"Heard? Heard what?"

"The State Attorney General has strongly urged that the case be transferred to a different county for trial."

"On what basis?"

"You serious, Love?"

"Outside? That'll die down in a day or two."

"State Attorney General doesn't believe it will and frankly neither do I."

"Aren't we jumping the gun here? Charges haven't even been brought up."

"And probably won't be... that's another reason the State Attorney General wants to transfer it to another county... a less bias jury pool for the grand jury to see if we're even going to bring up charges or not."

"Less bias my ass. This thing is all over the news and social networks. There will always be bias. Let's call it what it is, Jordan. We're just passing the buck hoping this will go away."

"Before we started this thing you assured me that if I let you on this case you wouldn't be too emotionally involved."

"And I'm not."

"You sure about that, Black?"

Black took a step back and stuck his hands in his pockets. He needed to re-assess the direction of the conversation. It was looking more and more like his case was about to be stonewalled. "Don't mistake my passion for a liability, Jordan. You know me."

"I do know you, Black. That's why I agreed to let you on this case. I know you'll give it your all and I know I owe you one but if the state's Attorney General really pushes this thing I'm going to have to back his play."

"Aren't you a fun date. At least you kiss me before you bend me over and stick it to me."

"Just giving you a heads up, Black. It's the least I can do." With that she rose from the seat and strutted past him out of the office.

Black walked to the window and looked out. He felt a pang in his heart as he stared out at the violent clash between the protestors and law enforcement. It looked like a scene from some 1960's civil rights protests news footage. Something needed to change in his favor and it needed to happen fast.

***

James posted up at the back of the bar nursing a beer with his back to the wall as he watched the patrons come and go. Jason Aldean's Burnin' It Down came streaming through the radio speakers. He took a sip from his beer. He had no idea why he was there. He knew he shouldn't be seen with the two but he felt it was something he needed to face. It needed to be dealt with one way or another only he had no idea how he would handle it. He would have to play it by ear and see what they had to say. It wasn't long before they arrived. Officers Foster and Hunter stepped through the door. They spotted him and approached his table where they promptly filled the empty seats.

"James," Foster said sitting across from him.

Hunter nodded.

"You're probably wondering why we asked you here," Foster said with her arms crossed. She leaned back in her seat rocking on two legs. James didn't respond so she continued. "We're just wondering why you didn't show up that night?"

"What night?" James asked now on the defense.

"Come on, man. You know... that night," Hunter said leaning in close to James with his silly grin covering his face.

"You two asked to meet and I'm here. So you going to tell me what you want? If not I'm walking out of here." James stood.

Hunter stood also placing his hand on James' chest in an attempt to push him back down into his seat. "We ain't done talking. Sit down!" Hunter demanded.

James grabbed Hunter's fingers and bent them back until he felt them break. Hunter yelped in pain and dropped to his knees while staring up at James through pleading eyes.

Foster wanted to interject, but she knew it was a fight they would not win. She failed to jump in and shook her head woefully. "Let him go, James."

James let his angry scowl linger on his face for several seconds before releasing Hunter's hand.

Hunter fell back, gripping his wrist and trying desperately not to touch his crumpled hand. "You broke my freakin' fingers man!"

Foster pulled out the chair sitting next to her with her foot. With her eyes still trained on James she barked at Hunter. "Sit down and shut up!"

Hunter shot her a nasty look that quickly turned as sad as a heartbroken toddler being scolded by her father. He reluctantly rose from his place on the floor and took his seat next to her.

James remained standing, positioning himself with his back pressed against the wall. He placed one foot on the wall and slid his hands in his pockets. "So is the Laurel and Hardy show over now?"

Hunter looked as if he was ready to speak but he held his tongue when he saw Foster shoot him a dirty look that indicated that she might break his other hand.

Foster turned her glance back to James. "We have a code, James."

"I have my own code."

"No code is above the uniform. We stick together no matter what."

"What do you want from me, Foster?"

"You're close to Teresa. You should know better than anyone that she's mixed up in the head. Talk to her. Help her to get her story straight... you know... retract her statement."

"Why in the world would I do that?" James was trying to remain calm which was becoming harder and harder every time one of them spoke, especially since they were talking about Teresa.

"Thought you wanted into the club?"

"Not if that's what's the club's about."

"Don't get high and mighty on us now," Hunter stated. "We know about that unsolved murder case."

"What about it?"

Hunter was referring to an unsolved murder of which he was the first on the scene. It was sloppy work. The man had been found face down in the alley with his neck broken. His blood was all over James' nightstick. There was no way he should have been cleared yet he was. The entire incident was a distant blur of a memory. To top it all off the feelings of redemption he thought he'd have never manifested. He thought that was all behind him. He should have known better. He didn't know what they may have had on him but more than likely it was nothing. Surely this was all a bluff to get him to compromise the investigation of Teresa's rape.

"You don't want internal affairs to start poking holes in that weak ass incident report you submitted?" Foster stated.

"That case is a dead end just like this conversation."

"What do you have to gain by going against us?"

"What you bastards did to her was wrong and by God you'll pay!"

Foster laughed. "By God you'll pay!" She repeated him in the best gruff voiced imitation she could pull off.

James wasn't impressed by her mocking him. "If that's all you got I'm out of here and fuck you very much for wasting my time."

"Didn't want to pull this card, man, but you're leaving us no choice."

"I'm done playing with you two." James began walking away.

"James!" Foster yelled.

James paused with his back still to the two.

"Two options," Foster stated evenly. "You make this thing go away and the Captain moves you up in rank faster than you can blink an eye."

"Or?" James asked no longer masking his frustration.

"We strike deals with the D.A. implicating you in the rape. We'll say you were the mastermind of the whole thing. You don't want us to start rattling those bones in that closet. We know what will fall out."

"Good luck with that. For one, Teresa will never corroborate that and two they'll never believe it. You're grasping at straws. As far as those bones, do what you gotta do. You two cross my path again I'm going to break more than your fingers." He walked out of the bar never turning back. Things were getting out of hand. His secret ghosts were coming back to haunt him. He needed to exorcise them and do it quick.

***

Waeltz and Black walked side by side down the hall towards Jordan's office. The two looked at one another skeptically.

"She call you down too?" Black asked referring to Jordan.

"I was summoned so I came. You know what this is going to be about?"

Black shrugged his shoulders. "She didn't say anything to me."

Waeltz snarled. "Whatever it is I'm sure I'm not going to like it. Geez, I hate lawyers."

Black shook his head and laughed to himself. "Just like cops. Everyone hates 'em until they need one."

Waeltz looked at Black angrily from the corner of his eye. He knew he was right, but he'd never admit it.

They reached her office to find the door open. She stood at the door wearing her signature jacket and skirt ensemble with her ink pen behind her ear and a tablet in her hands.

"This bullshit!" She screamed as the two entered her office.

"What is it?" Waeltz asked as he flopped down on her leather sofa.

She cut her eyes at him angrily. "Get your greasy ass off of my furniture detective!"

Waeltz cleared his throat and stood. "Yes ma'am."

"What's going on Jordan?" Black asked, trying to get to the core of the problem.

"What's going on is you too screwed the pony royally on this one."

"Are we going to play guessing games or are you going to spit it out?" Waeltz shot back now becoming annoyed.

"There will be no trial."

"No trial?" Black blurted out angrily.

"Why not? What's the issue?" Waeltz asked trying to calm everyone down.

"The issue is there will be no grand jury because of a lack of evidence," Jordan stated.

"No evidence? Sure we do. We have the strap-on from Foster's place."

"Which you obtained illegally. I had to pass out I-owe yous to get her attorney not to press charges against you two."

"What the hell do I have to do with this?" Black asked looking confused.

"Foster's attorney tells me that while boy genius over here was breaking and entering with what I'm assuming was a fake warrant you were there as an accomplice. I don't know how you win cases in Chicago but in Danville we—"

Black cut her off mid-sentence. "Wait a minute... he called me over so I met him. I don't know anything about a warrant or how he obtained it."

"Even if I believed you that's beside the point. It's all about perception. You're an attorney for the state of Illinois. Any first year lawyer's going to say that it was safe for her client to presume from seeing the A.D.A., who just happens to be working a case she's involved in, at her home with the investigating detective that the warrant they're holding was legit. It doesn't take much leg work to prove it wasn't and that the warrant asshole did have was presented falsely to illegally search her home. And what in the hell are you even doing working this case, Waeltz? Shouldn't it have been passed to internal affairs?"

"Something must've gotten lost in the process," Waeltz stated. "I was never taken off of the case."

"This is classic. Grade A professionals over there at your station huh, Waeltz?" Jordan asked sarcastically. "The evidence is out. What were you two thinking?"

"Thinking? I told you I didn't know what he was going to pull," Black stated.

"In his defense he had no idea, Jordan," Waeltz said trying to defend Black.

"That's District Attorney Benton and this isn't the eighth grade, detective. There's no taking one for the team. You both screwed up, point blank. Without any other evidence the case is dead in the water. Her word against theirs and I am not taking that chance. Bring me some more evidence, some legally obtained evidence, then maybe we can do something."

"Come on, Jordan," Black asked pleading with his old comrade. "How am I going to look Teresa in the eye and tell her the case is closed pending further investigation?"

"Sorry, Black. I wanted to help you. Don't forget when the case came across my desk I'm the one who called you. I'm afraid you came out here for nothing. Just go home."

Waeltz shook his head disapprovingly and exited the room. Black paced the room angrily.

Jordan ignored him and scrolled through her iPad. "Anything else, Black?"

"No....hell yes!"

She paused from looking through her iPad and focused her attention on Black. "Excuse me?" she asked taking offense at his tone.

"You heard me. How dare you talk to me like that in front of Waeltz?"

"Please, Black. I don't sugar coat and I don't coddle."

"Not asking you to, but how about some professional courtesy next time, aye?"

"Professional courtesy? You're kidding me right?"

"Am I smiling, Jordan?"

She stepped closer to his face so that they were almost touching noses. "Are you a lawyer or an activist?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You know the law better than anyone. I know your outline. Out of whack with reality and out of time. There is no jury in the country that will convict those officers and you know it."

"So all of this was just for show?"

"No, Black. I was sincere when I said I wanted those convictions but what do I have now?" Black began to speak but she cut him off. "I'll tell you what I have. A small town that's more than fifty percent White, three white cops, two of which are highly decorated and one a war vet, versus a Black woman who for the record was screwing one of D.A.s involved in her case."

"We can't give up. How will things ever change if we just quit?"

She laughed. "You still haven't changed. You should have went into the private sector, Black, and worked pro bono cases in the hood or volunteer for appeal cases on death row because this bleeding heart kick you've been holding on to since college will never work in the D.A.'s office. The two don't mesh. They never will. Our jobs are to get convictions and like it or not convictions and justice rarely coincide."

"Are you ordering me to not pursue this case?"

"Black, I'm telling you as a colleague you need to pick a side and ride with it." She walked to her door and held the door knob.

He shook his head and snickered. "Yes, ma'am." Black walked out of the room at a casual pace. He was barely out of the office before the door slammed closed. He laughed out loud but on the inside he was pissed. This case was not closed as far as he was concerned. Justice would be served if it was the last thing he did.

***

There was no way Black was going to let this be the end. He didn't have it in him to tell Teresa that he'd failed. He would start from square one: the evidence. There had to be something that Waeltz was leaving out. He figured he'd do some more digging into Waeltz as well. That was some sloppy police work he'd done. Either he had to be purposely trying to get the case closed or he was a complete imbecile. Black had been around too long to believe the latter. Then there was what Brown said the other day about the black cop. There were only four black cops on the force including James and two of them were women. Teresa never mentioned anyone else. If someone else was involved why did she leave that out? Maybe the old man didn't know what he was talking about. Waeltz still hadn't given him anymore information about James. There were too many missing pieces to just give in. He would fight until the very end.

At home he felt awkward around Teresa and Morena even more so than before. He knew he needed to tell Teresa about the case being officially closed. He had no idea how she would react. Then there was Morena. He pretty much knew how she would react once he told her he decided to stay in Danville and investigate the case on his own time. She would blow a gasket. Hell she might even leave, he thought. He had to ask himself was all of this even worth it?

The three sat in the living room watching the news. Ever since the case broke and the media caught wind of it the social websites and online media outlets were ablaze with supporters of Witherspoon and the other officers. They were calling them the Danville Three. A website was put up for donations. Almost two-hundred fifty-thousand was raised for their court fees. It was the same with the supporters for Teresa. Protesters from across the country travelled out to Danville to show their support and march. Civil rights advocates, celebrities, women's rights groups, and countless rape victims' support groups all came to show their support. The incident went viral. It was getting support from rape victims uploading testimonial videos from as far away as Russia and Senegal. Danville had most definitely shaken up the world.

The news clips of the marching and attacks by the police were being shown as usual just before being interrupted by a breaking report. A moderately dressed field news reporter appeared on the screen. She put Black in the mind of Kelly Clarkston. She pushed her finger into her ear making sure that her earpiece was secure. Standing in front of the government building where Black worked, she spoke into the microphone. "Breaking news. We have just found out from District Attorney Benton that there will be no formal charges brought against Chief Witherspoon and the other officers involved in the alleged rape and assault of Teresa Prince, the young lady working as an intern at the police department where the three officers are stationed. She has also stated that all three would be returning back to work at the beginning of next week. It is unclear if Ms. Prince will be returning to work as well. We will see if this will be the end of this case that has made this, not only for the people of Danville but people all around the world, a month of madness. This is Janice Beverly reporting live from Danville Channel 6 News. Back to you in the studio."

Black turned his head to face Teresa and Morena who both had their eyes trained on him. They were fuming.

"What the hell, Black?" Morena spat out first.

Black stood up and held his hands up in a defensive manner. "Let me explain."

"Explain what, Black? The damn news reporter just explained everything. You weren't going to say anything? Why do we have to find out the case was closed from watching the news?"

"I wanted to tell you just didn't know how."

"You never have a problem saying anything else." Morena spat out.

Teresa still had yet to speak.

"Officially yes... the case is closed," Black stated.

"And unofficially?" Teresa asked finally chiming in.

"I'm going to crack this thing."

"They're going to get away with it aren't they?" Teresa asked staring off into the distance.

"No. My word as a man! All involved will pay!"

Teresa stood and began making her way towards the stairs leading to her bedroom.

"Where are you going?" Morena asked standing up and looking confused.

"I'm going to pack. I should leave."

"Honey, no. You don't have to..."

"I've intruded in your lives enough. The case is over. It's time I finally faced the world again and become a part of society." Teresa took a deep breath. "And the first step in doing so is going home."

"Black, tell her she doesn't have to go," Morena pleaded.

She didn't know why but she wasn't ready for Teresa to leave. She felt a bond with the woman that she wasn't ready to break.

"I appreciate it, girl. Don't worry. I meant what I said. We're friends and that doesn't end here... at least not on my part."

Morena smiled, walked over to Teresa, and hugged her. "Not on my part either."

Black left the room. He headed to the garage, got into his truck, backed out, and sped down the block.
Chapter Thirteen

Black cruised to a smooth stop at a red light. He considered his next move. He had questioned all of the black officers at the department except James. He purposefully waited to interview him last. That was another can of worms he didn't want to open. There would definitely be added tension especially since he and Teresa were getting along so well now. He was really hoping that it would have been one of the other officers or even better if Brown had been mistaken. He knew it was just wishful thinking. It was all but a done deal. He just needed to speak with James and see the reaction in his eyes when they spoke.

Waeltz had already phoned Black and told him that James' fingerprints were all over the shed. Black was so caught up in his thoughts he didn't noticed that the light had turned green. The cars honking behind him jarred him back to the right now. Just as he moved his foot from the brake to the gas and the vehicle began to roll he slammed on the brakes abruptly seeing that someone from out of nowhere had stepped in front of him. The brakes on the car behind him screeched as they came to a sudden stop almost rear ending him. Again horns blared. He looked into his rearview mirror and could see the driver from the car behind him yelling. He looked back to the person in the street discovering that it was Brown standing there smiling back at him. Black waved at him anxiously.

"What are you looking at? Get in here!" Black yelled as Brown scurried over to the passenger door, opened it, and climbed in. Black jerked away through the intersection before the door was completely closed.

"What's going on, baby? Heard you was looking for me," Brown said enthusiastically.

"Brown, my man, you are a hard man to track down."

"You found me. Now what you want?"

"I'm sure you heard about the case right?"

Brown leaned back in his seat, turned his glance from Black, and looked out of the window. "Yeah I heard."

"Well, you know I need your help then."

"I gave you my help. I don't even know if he had anything to do with it or not. I was just talking man."

"I don't think so."

"You don't think, huh?" Brown asked sarcastically. "Tell me what you do think, Mr. Big City District Attorney."

"You need to point out who you saw that night."

"Point out? Like in a line up?"

"Yeah."

"No way, Jack! You won't get me to sign up for none of that." Brown opened the car door as if he were going to jump out.

Black never slowed down as he grabbed Brown by the back of his jacket and pulled him back in. The door slammed closed as he turned the corner. He pulled into a parking lot and slammed on the brakes.

"What the hell is your problem, Jack?!" Brown yelled out staring Black down.

"My problem?" Black yelled back just as loud.

"Yeah you! That door damn nearly took my leg off."

"You're crazy ass was going to jump out! That's all I need."

"What you need to do is—"

"Wrong!" Black interjected. "We're not talking about me. We're talking about Teresa. The woman you claimed to care about."

"What can I do? I'm an old vagrant, outcast, America's vomit, the bowel movement of –"

Black cut him off midsentence. "Spare me the dramatics, Brown. You're from the old school you know right from wrong. So shit or get off the pot."

Brown stared at the young man long and hard. Black never shifted his glare from Brown. The two were in a deadly stare down. Once Brown saw that neither of them were going to concede he banged on the dashboard. "You damn young people."

Black grimaced.

"Don't be smiling at me," Brown barked.

"Lighten up, Brown," Black said as he shifted the car back into drive and pulled off.

"Don't tell me what to do."

Black wanted to check the old man but decided against it. He needed him. He would lose this particular battle in order to win the war.

"Take me to get a drink and something to eat," Brown ordered.

"Not until we agree on some things."

"Agree? I'll point him out or whatever you need me to do or say. Don't worry about that. I'll cover my part."

"Yeah, well I need a little more than you'll cover your part. We can't do this until tomorrow. How will I find you? I don't have time for another disappearing act."

"I'm grown. I come and go as I please."

"Thought you were going to cooperate, Brown?"

"I am. I don't need no babysitter though. I say I'm going be there, I'm going be there. Just tell me where and when."

"I'm going to go against my gut on this one. Don't prove me wrong, old man."

"Yeah, yeah. Take me to get a fifth of Wild Turkey and a sandwich."

"The sandwich, yeah. Wild Turkey, I don't think so."

"Sandwich and a drink or let me out right here."

"Why you have to be such a hard ass, old man?"

"You live to be my age and we'll see how much bullshit you tolerate."

"I'll get the sandwich and the drink."

Brown smiled. "My man."

"Not a fifth. A pint."

"A pint?"

"That's it, Brown."

"Man you—"

"And you have to stay in a room tonight. I'll pay for it."

"I told you I come and go as I please."

"And you still can. What do you have to lose? I pay for the room, you shower, sleep on a bed, relax or you leave as soon as I leave and rip and run the streets. I get it. You don't want a baby sitter and I don't baby sit."

Brown turned his head and looked out of the window. They were both silent for several seconds.

"Fine I'll do it," Brown said as Black pulled into the parking lot at the liquor store.

***

One problem solved, now on to the next, Black thought as he went into his bedroom, pulled out his laptop, and logged on. Morena was gone. She hadn't told him where she was going. They hadn't spoken much since he told her that he would be staying to keep digging into the case. He dismissed the silence as her merely sulking. He figured she would get over it because she always had in the past. He needed information and only one person he knew could get him this type of data off the books. He logged on to a popular gaming blog website and made a post under the screen name The Piece Keeper seeking gaming tips to help seek out the Blades of Chaos. It was a reference to the popular video game God of War. He logged off of his computer, went down stairs, and fixed himself a drink. Cognac in hand, he stood out on the patio near the pool. Morena still had yet to come in. Moments later his phone rang. Looking down at his phone the CALLER ID read unknown it was the call he was expecting. He pressed TALK on the phone and spoke.

"This is Black."

"You need help finding the Blade?"

"Yes."

"Secure number."

"773-809-2172."

The line went dead. He walked back through the house and out to his truck in the garage. He got in and opened the glove compartment where he grabbed the throw away cell phone and powered it on. As soon as he turned the phone on it began to ring. He pressed the TALK button.

"Long time no hear," the voice said through the phone."

"How are you, Seshat?" Black asked the sweet sounding voice through the phone.

"Some days are better than others and you?"

"I have a situation."

"That doesn't tell me how you're doing."

"Sorry. I am going through some things. I'll manage."

"You always do. You know you still owe me some time."

Black smiled. He had known Seshat for two years now. He'd met her through someone he had falsely convicted. It was a horrible nasty mess. He owed the guy a favor so he helped Seshat out of a nasty situation of her own. They'd met only once but the respect and loyalty was undeniable. It was mostly business but a friendly flirtation was always present. They did favors for one another from time to time. She was a cyber-pirate, according to their mutual friend who was still locked up, and one of the best in the world. He had no idea where she was from or her real name. The only thing he knew about her was that she went by the name Seshat, which he looked up and discovered that it was a code name that meant Egyptian goddess of writing and measurement. He put her at around 19 to 23 years old. She spoke with an accent which made her sound Brazilian, yet he couldn't be sure. It could have just as well been fake. The time she was referring to was personal. He was tempted to take her up on her offer but had always declined out of respect for Morena.

"You know I can't do that, girl."

"You haven't left her yet?"

"Seshat."

"Your loss. Barbados is beautiful this time of year. What's the Blade you're looking for?"

"I need a connection between James Collins." Black paused to look through his notes in his other phone so he could read them to Seshat. "D.O.B. 9/21/80 and Jason Wallace Witherspoon D.O.B. 1/09/1960."

"Witherspoon? You're still in Donville? Thought that case was closed."

"It's Danville and I see you've been watching the news."

"Glanced at it. That's all."

"Uh-huh."

"Anyway, give me 15 minutes and I'll call you back on this number with the information." The call ended.

Black sat in the truck and waited. Something was about to happen. He could feel it. It was right in front of him and he wouldn't be able to stop it. The phone rang again he answered on the first ring. "Piece Keeper."

"No direct connection. Online cash transfers and not between one another. Once a month Witherspoon receives a deposit to an offshore account and 24 hours later Collins receives a deposit."

"Does it say where the money is coming from?"

"Could find out. Need more time to knock down these firewalls. You sounded urgent so I brought you this."

"You're right. Thanks."

"You want me to freeze their accounts and move the cash?"

"Not yet. I'll get back to you. How much is there and how long have the transactions been taking place?"

"Looks like $25,000 a month for Witherspoon and a little over ten a month for Collins. It fluctuates."

"Thanks. Usual pay?"

"Half of all I move. Yes, sir. Just give me the word."

"Get that firewall down. I need to find out who's paying these guys. I'll let you know how we'll proceed from there." The call ended.

***

Later that night Black lay in bed alone; still no Morena. He lay in silence wondering how all of this would end. It was funny. He came to Danville for justice and had yet to see the inside of a courtroom. What does it all mean, he thought to himself. His phone vibrated on the nightstand next to the bed. He thought that it may be Morena calling but was surprised to see Teresa's face flash across the screen. He pressed the talk button.

"What's up?" he spoke into the phone

"Black?"

"Yes."

"Can we talk?" she asked in a subtle tone.

He sat up in bed now at full attention. "What's up? Everything alright?"

"Yeah. I know you heard about what happened earlier today didn't you?"

"No. What's wrong?"

"I was sent home today. James flipped out and broke Hunter's wrist."

"Good for him."

"Yeah, I suppose. Witherspoon suspended James and sent me home saying I was causing a disturbance."

"What did Hunter say to you? He threaten you?"

"No, but something is strange here."

"Strange? At your place?"

"Yeah. I think someone's been in here."

"I'm on my way."

"No, I'm fine."

"You're not! You're frightened. You shouldn't be alone."

"Trust me, Black. I'm fine. Just wanted to let you know what I thought."

"Why do you think someone's been in there?"

"Might be a small thing, but..."

"But what?"

"It's silly."

"Spit it out. It may be important."

"Some things are missing from my place."

"You were robbed?"

"Not really."

"What are you saying? Girl, stop beating around the bush."

"My robe is missing and I can't find the locket my mother left me."

"You look around the place?"

"Everywhere. I just don't know what to think."

"I don't know... you sure you don't want me to come over?"

"I'm sure. Didn't mean to bother you. Have a good night."

"I will." She ended the call.

Black sat there thinking. The more he thought about it the angrier he became. All he did was think and react, think and react. Always a step behind. He got out of bed and got dressed in his all black hoody and sweat pants. He grabbed a pair of dark sunglasses from the dresser and was out of the door.

***

The night air felt good against his skin. The vibration underneath him was pulsating through his body and was sending sensations through him that got his adrenaline pumping. He gripped the throttle and hugged the curves on the custom made Augusta crotch rocket. Black was thankful that the people he was renting the home from had left the keys in the ignition. He stopped at the end of the block and watched. The neighborhood was quiet. He expected as much. He sat and watched as he waited down the street from Hunter's house. He was tired of reacting. It was time for some action. He hit the throttle and the sports bike took off. He rode past Hunter's house and went around through the alley to the back of his house. Leaving the bike parked by the garage, he cautiously made his way to Hunter's back door. He hadn't done this since he was eleven years old. When he was a kid he did a few jobs for a crew in his neighborhood but soon got out of the game. He realized breaking into homes wasn't his thing. He always felt strange rummaging through people's stuff. But standing there now at Hunter's door picking the lock, it felt like second nature to him.

Stepping into the kitchen, he gently closed the door and stood with his back to the wall for a few seconds. It was darker in the home than it was outside. He let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Finally being able to see, he let his eyes roam the room, more specifically the kitchen floor. He was looking for a dog's bowl or dog toys. Anything to signify that Hunter had a pet. True, he hadn't alerted the animal of his presence but that didn't mean it would stay that way and a dog was a serious problem when breaking into a home. If it's a big dog, like a German Sheppard or a Rottweiler, it would attack. If it was a small dog, like a pug or Chihuahua, it would make noise and wake the occupants of the house if anyone happened to be home. He knew how to deal with both threats but was hoping he wouldn't have to. After assessing that there were no dogs he crept along the kitchen, moving from room to room swiftly. Soon he found himself on the second floor standing outside what he presumed to be Hunter's bedroom.

He gently twisted the doorknob and entered the room where Hunter was lying in bed asleep. Black stood over the man's bed and stared down at him as he slept. The room was eerily quiet. Black felt the palms of his hands itch underneath the leather gloves he was wearing. He whispered. "Hunterrr."

Hunter jumped up from his sleep. "What the hell?"

Black remained silent staring at Hunter through the sunglasses.

"I know you," Hunter stated. "You're that lawyer."

Black still had yet to speak.

Hunter looked over at his gun sitting on his dresser across the room. He wanted to go for it but he knew he'd never make it. "What are you doing in here?"

"I'm picking a side."

With that Hunter sprang to action leaping from bed. Black caught him mid-air and threw him across the room. He crashed into the mirror that was connected to the dresser. Black took his time getting to him, allowing him time to get to his feet. Hunter hunched low into a wrestler's stance as Black stood back with his dukes up ready for the attack. They both edged closer to one another, both watching the other's moves. Hunter was the first to attack again, lunging out at Black. Black side stepped the attack pushing Hunter off balance with his left hand. Black came down across Hunter's jaw with a right cross punch. Hunter staggered but didn't fall. He grabbed a hold of Black's left arm and pulled him close throwing Black into a full nelson.

Black instinctively threw both arms in the air and dropped to his knees trying to slip out of the move. But it didn't work. Hunter was an all-state wrestler in college. He expected the move. He dropped to the floor with Black, laying his weight on Black's back and tightening his arms around the man, forcing Black's head to hit the floor. The more Black struggled the tighter the hold became. Hunter fell back bringing Black with him. Hunter wrapped his legs around Black's midsection and squeezed. Black felt his oxygen being cut off.

It took everything Black had in him to throw his head back as hard as he could in order to smash the back of his skull against Hunter's face. He heard the man's nose crunch. Hunter squealed as blood squirted from his face. Hunter loosened his grip but still held on. Before Hunter could re-group Black threw another head butt, this time busting Hunter's lip. It was enough for Hunter to let go completely. Black rolled away from Hunter and tried to get to his feet. He wasn't fast enough. Hunter rushed him, knocking him off balance. The two men rolled on the floor. Hunter grasped Black's throat and began to squeeze. Black's eyes bulged from his face as he tried to break Hunter's grip. This time it wasn't as easy to get away. Black couldn't breathe. He felt light headed as he began to see stars sparkling before his eyes. He made one last attempt before he passed out, throwing both legs in the air and wrapping them around Hunter. He squeezed and rolled. Hunter fell to the side but held on. As he felt his ribs being compressed Hunter squeezed tighter. Fighting for his life Black kept squeezing, using both hands he grabbed a hold of Hunter's hand with the broken fingers and squeezed them until the man finally let go.

With one hand still wrapped around his throat, Black loosened his grip on Hunter and clutched at the hand with the broken fingers. He pulled them close to his face then Black yanked away from Hunter's grip and chomped down on one of the man's broken fingers. He bit down and pulled until the finger separated from the hand. Hunter squealed louder than Black had ever heard anyone squeal before. Hunter was squirming on the floor in awe as he stared at his amputated finger. The fight in him was slowly fading.

Still lying on his side, Black kicked Hunter in the stomach before sliding across the room. With blood on his face and the finger still in his mouth, Black stood to his feet and spit the finger on the floor. Black walked over to Hunter, placed a foot on his throat, and began to grind as if he were trying to put out a cigarette butt. He did this until Hunter stopped squirming. Black's adrenaline was rushing so much that he didn't hear Hunter's neck snap.

***

Black had spent enough time at crime scenes to know that the longer he stayed the more chances he had of leaving evidence behind. He had worn gloves so he wasn't worried about fingerprints. The only incriminating evidence was the finger he had bitten off. He picked the finger up and placed it in his hoody pocket. He looked around the room for his glasses that had fallen off during the rumble and found the broken frames on the floor. He picked up all the pieces and placed them in his pocket as well. All that was left was possible saliva samples from when he spit out the finger. He moved quickly as he went through the home looking for cleaning products. He quickly returned with hydrogen peroxide, a scrub brush, and a bowl of ice water. He scrubbed every inch of the room with the ice cold water and peroxide. One last piece of evidence and he was almost 90% sure he would be clear; Hunter's hand. His DNA was all over it. He swabbed his entire hand with the peroxide then looked around the room once more before leaving the way he'd come in.

Black rode the bike at a moderate speed and went straight home. Once there he parked the bike, went inside, and stripped himself of his clothes even the underwear and socks. Walking through the house naked he placed all of the clothes into a trash bag, including the shoes, then went back out to the deck, opened the grill, and placed the bag onto the rack where it doused it with lighter fluid before lighting a match and tossing it in. He watched the bag instantly become engulfed in flames. He poured lighter fluid on the flames every time they appeared to be dying out. Once the bottle of lighter fluid was empty he tossed it into the flame as well and let it continue to burn as he went into the house. He took a shower where he scrubbed his flesh thoroughly. After twenty minutes of scrubbing he was out and dressed. He went back outside to the deck. The flame was dying down. It was mostly a pile of weird smelling ash. He closed the lid and figured that he would vacuum the ash out in the morning then dump it along the highway. Next he went into the house and returned with cleaning supplies. He gave the bike a good washing, making sure to get every nook, cranny, and crevice twice. Blood and DNA samples had a way of creeping up on suspects. He had seen it time and time again. They thought they had gotten away with it then BOOM, the victim's DNA would be all over the killer's clothes or something incriminating was left in the car. Black wondered to himself if he would be the next.

After looking the bike over he went inside and made himself a drink. Lounging on the sofa listening to Merengue and sipping cognac he finally felt his nerves beginning to relax. He had noticed since this case begun that he had been drinking more and more. He was once a man who hardly tolerated alcohol. He'd have a taste every now and then but now it was becoming a reoccurrence that he was beginning to take solace in. He was most definitely changing. Was this the end? All his moral beliefs and values regarding the law and justice, were they all gone? A line was crossed. A side had to be chosen and whether he realized it or not, he'd switched sides. Was he a hypocrite? He now questioned everything he once thought and believed. Guilt or remorse for what he did was not an issue. He did what needed to be done. Now he just needed to talk, to get it off his chest, so he called the only person in his life that would understand.

He scrolled through his contacts until he found the name he was looking for and pressed the TALK button. The phone rang once before it was picked up.

The scraggly, scratchy voice from years of drinking alcohol and smoking cigarettes spoke through the phone. "What you want, boy?"

"Hey, Dad. Still up huh?"

"Yeah, what's going on? Everything alright?"

"It's so-so."

"Hmm."

"How's Sparkle?"

His father laughed. "She's just fine. Lying next to me in bed. She put up a fuss. I gave her a bath. She didn't like that too much."

"Right, right."

"What's on your mind, son? I know you didn't call to ask about an old man and his dog."

He was referring to Sparkle, his pet Pit-bull.

Black paused before speaking. "That's kind of the reason I called."

His father remained silent.

"Remember Sheba?" Black asked.

"The black lab you had to put down?"

"Yeah. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do."

"Taking a life is never easy. Stays with you forever."

"How did you do it? You know... back in Vietnam?"

"Wasn't in it long. Listen, son, the best thing to do with that stuff is to accept it and let it go."

"Let it go?"

"Don't let it consume you."

"I won't, Pops."

They both sat silently holding the phone.

Pops spoke first. "That all, son?"

Black wanted to talk more. He still hadn't gotten out what he needed to get off his chest. There was no way he could talk about it over the phone without flat out saying it. He knew this so he kept it to himself. "Yeah just checking on you and the girl. See you when I get home."

"Peace."

"Peace.

The call was ended. Black didn't bother finishing his drink. He went upstairs and went to bed alone.
Chapter Fourteen

James thought, maybe it's time to move on. Just take Teresa and move away. He had enough money saved up so wherever they went they would be comfortable. But he wondered would she go. She still hadn't given him an answer to his proposal. He decided whatever he was going to do he needed to do it fast. He needed to clean up his mess here first. A life on the run was no life for newly-weds. What were Waeltz and Black cooking up? As far as he knew they still hadn't found out about the overseas accounts or about him and Witherspoon. Waeltz was fishing. He had speculations but who had placed them there? The only person that came to mind was Hunter. James smiled. He was glad that he had broken Hunter's fingers. Maybe it was time to take him to the river. As far as Black was concerned the only connection James could think of that Black would be privy to somehow was Brown, the old man from the alley. It was the only thing that made sense. No one else knew he'd been there besides Witherspoon who'd called him with the pick-up location for the passenger. He'd accepted the package and Witherspoon was on his way. He'd cleaned her up and left her on the street then called the police. His list of passengers that he'd taken to the river was getting longer and longer. It was going to be a busy night. He figured he would get to Brown first, then Hunter, and finish with Foster. He was undecided about Witherspoon. Chances were he would have to go as well.

There was banging at his door taking him out of his thoughts. He went to the door and looked through the peep hole. Standing on the other side of the door was Waeltz. James unlocked the door and opened it. "What do you want?" he asked blocking Waeltz from entering.

"Can I come in?"

James stared at Waeltz for a brief moment then stood to the side so the man could enter. He was in no mood to get interrogated but he needed information and Waeltz would give it to him. Once Waeltz was inside James closed the door. James watched Waeltz as he moved around the room. He watched him as his eyes scanned and tried to take in as much as he could.

"What can I do for you Waeltz?"

"Have one question for you, that's all."

"Yeah? What would that be?"

Waeltz cleared his throat and smacked his lips.

James crossed his arms over his chest.

"You think I can get a glass of water?" Waeltz asked.

James stared back, not saying a word.

"Come on, Collins. One glass of water. My throat's a little dry."

James gave Waeltz the once over before going to the kitchen where he grabbed a glass from the dish rack and turned the faucet on. While James' back was turned Waeltz moved around to the table in the center of the living room. He let his eyes scan the scraps of paper scattered across the table; miscellaneous bills and receipts. One caught his eye. It was a slip for a wire transfer to his sister. Waeltz couldn't read the dollar amount but he figure it was something else he should look into. James returned with the water and handed it to Waeltz. Waeltz promptly downed it in one gulp.

"What's the question, Waeltz?" James was ready to get to the point.

"Just need to know your whereabouts the night Teresa was attacked."

"Why?"

"Rule you out, that's all."

"Never knew I was a suspect."

"Where were you?"

"I think it's time for you to go."

"Thought you wanted to cooperate, Collins."

"Never said I would answer. Just said you could ask."

James walked to the door, opened it, and held it until Waeltz stepped out. He closed the door and leaned against it. The walls were definitely closing in.

***

The next morning as Black was getting dressed to go and meet Brown Morena stepped into the bedroom. She hadn't come in that night. Black was disappointed that she had not called but he had been determined not to give in first by calling her. Besides, he figured she needed her space. The two acknowledge one another with a nod. Things had gotten so bad that they weren't even speaking. He'd gone through this before with Teresa. Morena was different though. She worships my every move, he thought as he dismissed the idea that they were too far gone.

"Going out?" she asked finally breaking the ice.

"A run to make. You go home?"

"Yeah... went to see a friend."

"Enjoy yourself?"

"I did."

"Good."

She nodded and half smiled.

He continued. "This thing should be over soon. We need to talk. Give me until then okay?"

"And if I say no?"

Black paused. Up until then he hadn't given her his full attention. He turned and faced her. "Baby Love?"

"I know, Cariño. After, we'll talk. Be safe, mi amor," she said as he placed a kiss on her cheek and was out the door.

He still hadn't heard back from Seshat. They had a rule about communication. He would have to toss the throw away phone after twenty-four hours. He would need to get back on the gaming website. She had taught him how to erase his digital foot prints but he still preferred to log on as little as possible. Although he never took any of the money they retrieved from the tips he sent her way, the way they were going about it was walking a thin line of unethical conduct. He pushed the thought from his mind and climbed into the truck. Pulling out of the garage he proceeded towards the hotel he had Brown staying at. He hoped the old man had taken his advice and stayed. It would be a waste of another day trying to track him down. After riding for twenty minutes he pulled into the parking lot at the hotel on 77 N Gilbert Street. He could hardly pull in because the parking lot was filled with police cars and an ambulance. He flashed his badge to a patrolman to gain access into the building. As he stepped in someone was being rolled out, covered in a white sheet. His heart sunk. He didn't want to think of it but he had a feeling that he knew who was underneath that sheet. As he held his hand up to stop the first responder from wheeling the gurney further, he reached to pull back the sheet as someone placed their hand down on his shoulder. He spun and faced the person.

"What are you doing here, Waeltz?" he asked in shock.

"Was going to ask you the same thing. You know the deceased?"

"About to find out now." Black pulled the sheet back and his suspicions were dead on. Laying on the gurney underneath the sheet was Brown. "Damn," Black mumbled underneath his breath. He pulled the sheet back over Brown's face and waved the men off so they could remove the body from the building.

Waeltz waited until the paramedics were gone. "So that was a yes? You do know the deceased?"

"You do too."

"Do I?"

"Yeah. The old man from when we came out of the shed connected to the catacombs."

"No shit. You were here to meet him? Why?"

"A witness."

"In the Prince case?"

"Mmm-hmm. You search his room yet? And you never answered my question... You're a sex cop. What are you doing at a murder scene?"

"Filling in for a buddy. I did a year as a homicide detective in New York before I moved here."

"I remember now."

"You remember? Oh yeah... you pulled my file. You want to tag along to check his room?"

"Sure," Black said as he followed behind Waeltz towards Brown's room.

"When was the last time you saw him alive?"

"Last night. I dropped him off and paid for the room."

Waeltz knew that much. He had already questioned the staff and saw that the room was paid for with Black's credit card. "Who was it that he claimed to have seen?"

"James."

"Collins? The night of the rape? You sure?"

"Not 100%... never got to a line up. Was supposed to go today. But I questioned the other three black cops and it wasn't either of them. James was the last."

They stepped into the room to see an outline of where Brown's dead body had been found. People walked around the room snapping photos and dusting for prints.

"It makes sense now," Waeltz stated.

"What does?"

"I paid James a visit yesterday and saw some receipts for wire transfers so earlier today I had the IT guy at the department get a warrant to check to see who he had been wiring money to."

"And?"

"It was to his sister. Once every other month... $3,000 dollars... for the past year."

"Really?"

"Yeah. May not seem like much but on a cop's salary I don't see it happening."

"Where was he getting the money?" Black asked fishing for information. He decided not to share the info about the offshore accounts because he wanted to see what Waeltz knew.

"Still looking into it. My guess is drugs."

"Yeah?"

"Just a guess."

"Even so how does he play into the rape?"

"Still don't know, but I will find out," Waeltz said as he began looking around the room.

Black walked over to the bed and spotted the knapsack that Brown always carried.

"Over here," he said as Waeltz slid on a pair of latex gloves and picked the bag up. He held the bag in the air.

"Take a picture of this," Waeltz demanded talking to one of the forensic officers.

The tech quickly came over and began snapping shots of the bag. Waeltz turned the bag over and dumped the contents onto the bed. There was a flask, loose change, a few crumpled dollar bills, a few pairs of socks rolled into balls, and an old photo. Waeltz picked up the photo and looked at it. It was a picture of Brown as a young man standing next to a beautiful woman and child. He held the picture in front of Black's face. "A family maybe? He say anything to you about a wife and kid?"

"No." Black removed an ink pen from his inner suit pocket. He dug through the stuff on the bed with the pen as not to contaminate the crime scene with his finger prints. Underneath a few scraps of scattered paper he found an asthma pump. "Waeltz, here." He pointed to the pump with the ink pen. "That look like blood to you?"

Waeltz picked up the asthma pump and held it out towards a crime scene tech. "Bag it."

The tech retrieved the pump and dropped it in a plastic bag then sealed it closed.

"Maybe you had this wrong, Love," Waeltz stated.

"How's that?"

"Maybe he was in on it. We run that blood and it's hers he's a new suspect."

"I suppose anything's possible, but to be on the safe side place a warrant for James and have a unit pick him up." Black turned to leave.

Waeltz grabbed his arm. "Look Love, this may not turn out pretty."

"Too late. This thing was ugly from the word go." He yanked his arm from Waeltz's grasp and left the room.

***

Witherspoon sat in his office on the phone patiently listening to the orders being barked at him. He despised the person he worked for yet it paid well and gave a free pass to him and his team to cleanse the streets of undesirables. He sighed feeling disappointed about James. He was the best clean up man he had seen in recent years, but he had his instructions. Witherspoon hung up the phone without saying a word. He stood to his feet, walked to his door, ducked his head out, and called in Foster. Foster quickly entered and closed the door.

"We got the word from upstairs to clean house," Witherspoon stated.

"I understand, sir... It's only... I can't..."

"You can't what?"

"Eliminating is never a problem but disposing of them... I don't know, sir. I may miss something," she said lowering her head in shame.

"There will be a bigger cut. You'll do fine. Just do as I say."

"Yes, sir."

"Go visit the dimwit first," Witherspoon said referring to Hunter. "I always knew this day would come for him."

"Yes, sir. Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Can I bring in some people on this one?"

"Back up for Hunter?"

"No, sir. Collins will be a problem if he's not gone. I suspect he will not go down without a fight. The call just went out for him over the radio. Waeltz issued the APB. He may be in the wind."

"I know... he's coming unhinged. That work in the hotel was sloppy, not his style. You know where he may go?"

"Longshot... but I think so."

"Take Billy and the boys from the bar fight with Love. I trust 'em. Make sure you let them know you're running this Op. Any of 'em have an issue with you they have an issue with me."

Foster nodded yes and Witherspoon waved her off. She stood and left the room. He dropped two Alka-Seltzers in a glass of water, watched it fizz, downed it, and then took a swig of the Martel right from the bottle.

***

Waeltz sat at his desk in his tiny apartment going over his files for the Prince case. Day old Chinese food still in the box sat in front of him as he worked at his kitchen table. Something didn't add up. It was getting messier and messier by the day. There was a lot of extra stuff for a simple a rape case. He smashed a roach with the palm of his hand as it crept across the table in front of him. Wiping his hand on his pants leg he paused as he heard the sound of a gun being cocked back behind his head. He never turned to look back. He froze.

"I have a proposition for you Waeltz."

Waeltz was surprised twice. The first time because this intruder had gotten the drop on him and the second time because the intruder was a woman.

"Are we going to talk like this or can you take that gun from the back of my head?"

Waeltz flinched as he felt the barrel of the gun press against the back of his neck.

She continued. "The man that I work for is offering you a job."

"Yeah? What kind of job?"

"Chief of police."

Waeltz laughed. "Is the piece to the back of my head a part of the hiring process?"

"The man I work for doesn't like disappointing news. The piece to the back of your head, as you put it, assures me that I won't disappoint him."

Waeltz tried to place the voice. She most definitely wasn't local. In fact she sounded British.

"Who's your boss? He from across the pond too?"

"You're asking the wrong questions, Waeltz."

Waeltz's thoughts were racing a million miles per second. What's the right question to let me walk out of here alive, he thought. "When do I start?" He blurted out nervously.

"When Witherspoon's seat is vacated you'll be offered the position and you will accept."

"What will I have to do for the boss?"

"Once you're in office our contact out here will instruct you of your duties."

"And if I refuse?"

The room was silent. Waeltz was nervous but he slowly turned to face her. He felt a chill shoot through him looking around the room to find his apartment door open and the intruder gone. He jumped to his feet knocking over the chair in the process. He ran to the door and snatched his gun that was hanging in the holster on the coat rack near the door. Rushing into the hall and down the stairs all the way outside he frantically looked left to right, up and down the block to find no one there. He cursed as he went back inside and closed the door. Yeah, things are getting messier and messier he thought as he flopped down the couch.

***

Once in his truck Black pressed TALK on his cell phone and dialed Teresa's number. It went straight to voice mail. He dialed again as he drove over to her home. He wanted to check on her. She sounded pretty depressed last night. He still had yet to hear back from Seshat. He looked at his phone as it began vibrating in the cup holder. He picked it up and read the CALLER ID. Morena's face popped up on the screen. He tossed the phone back into the cup holder and let it go to voice mail. He wasn't in the mood to argue. Whatever it was could wait until he got home. Pulling into the parking lot at Teresa's apartment building he jumped out and made quick strides towards her unit. He'd ditched his suit and tie and opted for jeans, sneakers, a hoody, and a Chicago White Sox baseball cap. He pulled the cap down low over his eyes and touched the butt of his registered glock he had tucked underneath his hoody to make sure it was secure. He was feeling apprehensive about what happened the night before. It made him feel better to carry his piece. As he approached her door he heard loud laughter coming from the inside. One of the voices was definitely a male's. He cringed at the thought of having to confront James in front of her. He shook his head as he knocked on the door. One awkward situation after the other, he thought.

The door opened and Teresa stood on the other side smiling. "Black?"

"What's up?"

"Nothing," she said as she stepped to the side to allow him to enter.

He walked in and made his way to the living room where he stopped in his tracks surprised. "What are you doing here pops?"

"Came to see my girl," he said as he stood and gave his son a hug. He whispered in his ear. "I got your message. We can talk now."

Black nodded.

Pops continued. "You been taking care of my girl?"

"Yes he has, Dad." Teresa said entering the room carrying two bottles of beer. She still called him dad even though she and Black were no longer together. They still had a father daughter bond that she felt was sincere so when he came to town it was no surprise. She handed the men the beers and sat on the sofa.

"Well he better be. You know I'll crack his head don't you?"

"Yeah I know, Dad. He's been good."

Black half smiled as he sat on the sofa across from Teresa. "I've been calling. Why you haven't picked up?"

"I had my ringer off. James has been calling and calling."

"Everything alright between you two?"

"Yeah, just didn't feel like talking that's all."

"Hmm."

Teresa gave him the side eye, shifted her position, and faced Pops. "How long you gonna be here, Dad?"

"Not long. Just wanted to see you and Black. She wanted to see him too."

"You brought her with you, Dad?" Black asked.

Pops whistled. The sound of paws scratching against the carpet could be heard as the dog came scurrying into the living room. The all-white Pit-bull jumped up on Black.

He smiled as he held her and rubbed her down. "Hey, girl. I missed you too."

Pops moved towards the door. "Step outside with me, son. Let's talk."

"Give us a few minutes," Black said to Teresa then followed his father outside.

They took Sparkle with them. Once outside they let the dog run freely.

"How'd you know, Pops?"

"I know my boy and you were talking about having to put your dog down. I always knew it was never you who did it but your sister."

Black lowered his head. "She told you?"

"No. Your personality, son. Any person can kill, be it animal or man. Only a select few have a heart of a killer. I know. I've seen it. I know because it's in me. It's in your sister. But you. You were my strategist."

"How long have you known?"

"Almost immediately. The important question is who was the one you had to put down last night?"

"A guy named Hunter. One of the scumbags that hurt Teresa."

"Well, good for you."

"Figures you would say that."

"Damn right."

"You been anti-establishment my entire life."

Pops laughed. "Yeah and you've been teeter-tottering this line between activist and conservative for too long."

"Humph."

"Well, we are who we are. I didn't come here to debate political and socio-economics with you."

"Why did you come, Dad?"

"To make sure you're okay up here." Pops tapped Black on the side of his head with his pointer finger.

"Thanks, Dad. My head's okay. I'm okay."

"Good. Don't need you getting all remorseful and turn yourself in. You behind bars does no one any good. Especially over trash like that Hunter."

Black took a swig from his beer. He watched Sparkle run around the parking lot. "What should I do now, Pops?"

"Finish it."

"Finish what?"

"What you started."

Black shook his head. "I don't know about that."

"I do. What did you do with the body?"

"I cleaned up and left it there."

"There? Where's there?"

"His place."

"Don't you know, son? No body, no crime?"

"Couldn't be moved. Wasn't prepared. Spur of the moment thing."

"What I always tell you, son?"

"I don't know. You tell me a lot of things."

Pops sighed. "There is no such thing as it just happened! All actions are rooted in thought, even those we claim to be spontaneous."

"Thought you said I didn't have the heart of a killer?"

"Again... not here to debate."

"So what else? I know there has to be more to you coming."

"There is..."

"I'm listening."

"Talked to your sister... she's on her way down. She should be here in a couple hours."

"Come on, Dad."

"You're a lawyer and you're smart and I know you ain't no punk. I'm proud of you but this....this is your sister's terrain. Let her help."

"I'll think about it."

"That's all I ask. And Black..."

"Yeah?"

"I am proud of you. What have I been telling you since you were a boy?"

"Men protect their women."

"That's what you did as a man... what you saw fit. You took care of that woman in there."

Black remained silent.

Pops continued. "That's why I fought tooth and nail with your mama about your name."

Black smiled. "I used to hate this name when I was a kid."

"Black Love. Only love I know, baby."

Black laughed.

Pops placed his hand on his shoulder. "How you feel about the name now?"

"I love it. It defines me. I love our people."

"That's what's up. Well, tell my girls in there bye. I'm going to go on and hit the road. You know that traffic driving into Chicago is crazy."

"You know Teresa's going to be mad you didn't come in and say bye."

"Tell her I'll make it up to her."

"I will."

Pops climbed into his red pick-up truck. It was two years old and beat up. He had been using it for scrapping. He turned the engine on and let it idle. "How's that other girl of yours?"

"Morena. She's fine."

"Good. You and these women... don't let them be the death of you, boy."

"I won't, Pops." Black said with a smile.

"Love you, man."

"Love you too. Dad, what about Sparkle?"

"Keep her. You got all the women with you any way. She might as well stay too."

"Alright, Dad. Be safe."

"Peace."

"Peace." Pops pulled off and Black whistled for Sparkle. She ran behind him as he went into the building.

***

Waeltz didn't know what was going on. He knew it was high up the ladder he just had no idea how high or where to even begin. He knew Witherspoon knew the answer but how could he get him to talk without showing his cards? Whatever the answer was he felt in his gut by the end of this case he would know it all whether he liked it or not. Who was the woman with the accent? Unless he heard her speak again he'd never be able to pick her out of a line up especially since he never saw her face. He was headed out of the door. He needed to get to a homicide scene.

***

It took some doing but Black was finally able to convince Teresa to go back to his place and hang out with Morena. He didn't tell her about James because wanted to be 100% sure before he started stirring that pot. He had tossed his cell phone so he wouldn't hear from Seshat until he contacted her. He had gotten the call from his sister and she was meeting him to talk. He pulled into a parking lot at a restaurant, purposefully choosing the one with no surveillance cameras. He didn't need anything to trace his sister back to this town. As he pulled in he noticed his sister and one of her girls standing outside of her car while the other two sat in the car. He turned the truck off and got out. She was two years younger than he was. She was very attractive but very dangerous. She had been running the streets since a teen. She'd moved from Chicago to Indianapolis as soon as she was old enough to drive.

"What up, big bro?" she said as she gave him a hug.

"Hey, sis." It felt good seeing his sister.

They didn't hang out as much due to their different lifestyles. She was deep into the streets and he was locking people like her up. She had no qualms about hanging out. He did. He felt bad now that he needed her help.

She noticed the guilty look on his face. "Don't worry about it, big bro. I got you."

Black nodded.

She motioned to her girl standing beside her. "You remember my girl Danesha don't you?"

"Yeah, I remember."

Danesha shook his hand. "Long time no see, Black. You been good?"

"Yeah and you?"

"Same, you know."

He looked to his sister. "Who else is in the car, Ally?"

"Call me Whip."

Black nodded.

She shook it off. "You'll meet them other bitches later. Fill me in on the situation at hand. The old man didn't tell me much."

"You been watching the news?"

"Yeah."

"One of the cops that got off... I took care of him. Need to clean it up."

"That's all?"

"Should there be more?"

"I guess not. Pops made it seem like you needed some real aid and assistance. Shit I brought the brigade."

Black shook his head. "Naw, just a clean-up."

"You know this thing about to be over and the other ones are never gonna be charged don't you?"

Black sighed. "Yeah I know."

"Let us do what we do. None of it will be connected to you and we can balance the scales of justice around this bitch."

"Just a clean-up."

"Give them the address. Me and Danesha gon' ride with you."

"Splitting up?"

"Don't need a party to dump a body. Take us to get food. We can talk. They'll call us when they're done."

Black did as he was told. He walked over to the car and leaned his head into the window to give the two women the instructions.

***

Foster had mixed feelings about Hunter. She didn't know whether to be happy that James had taken care of that problem for her or worried that she may be next on his list. She couldn't let the latter stop her from what needed to be done. I'm smarter than him, she told herself. He was predictable. If he wasn't gone yet he would more than likely be at Teresa's. Everyone knew he had a thing for her. After doing a ride by of her place she saw Black speaking with an old man in the parking lot so she decided to sit and wait. He would show up eventually. She had her team on standby. After hours of waiting Black and Teresa both finally left going in separate directions. She decided to follow Teresa hoping she'd lead her straight to James. She was in full tactical gear including the velour vest and a black ski mask sat on the passenger seat next to a throw away hand gun. She was in a car she'd requisitioned from the police impound. She tailed Teresa back to where Black was staying. The pickup truck the old man had been driving was in the driveway. Suddenly Black pulled up behind Teresa. A woman greeted them at the door and Teresa and Black went inside. Foster called Billy as back up and waited for him to show up. It didn't take long for him to arrive. She took the back, climbing the gate to the back yard deck. Billy went in through the front. Also in full tactical gear and a donning a black ski mask, he kicked in the door and rushed in,

"Run!" Pops yelled out as he rushed towards the masked intruder. He had years of self-defense training. Although he was an older man he pinned Billy to the wall and hit him with two quick knee jabs to the ribs. He was prepared to throw another when he was shoved off and tasered. Pops fell to the floor shaking. Billy stood over him and tasered him again before moving towards the rear of the house.

As Morena and Teresa reached the sliding door that led to the deck outside the door slid open and Foster entered with her gun drawn. "Don't move!"

Before Foster could move any further Sparkle leapt up clutching her wrist that held the gun. Foster yelled out in pain trying to shake the dog loose. Unsuccessful, she fell to the ground trying to wrestle herself free. Teresa and Morena both rushed the intruder overpowering her and taking her gun. She lay on the ground balled up yelling for them to get the dog off of her. Just then Billy entered the kitchen with his gun drawn. Sparkle leapt over to Billy who shot her in mid-air. Sparkle fell to the ground whimpering in pain. Before Billy could get off a second shot Morena squeezed Foster's hand gun and kept firing until Billy fell back. She had emptied the clip. Most of the shots hit him in the vest, one hit his leg, and the other penetrated the neck. She stood over him clutching the gun still squeezing as he clutched his neck with blood streaming through his fingers. Morena had gone tone deaf. It was as if she had tunnel vision. She couldn't hear anything for a brief second so she hadn't heard the click, click, click sound of the empty gun. Teresa stood back in shock.

Foster took this as an opportunity to attack. She leapt from the floor rushing Teresa and knocking her to the floor. Teresa went into survival mode. All the hate, hurt, anger, and fear came bustling out on Foster. The two women tussled on the floor. Teresa tried to get a grip on the intruder's hair and pulled the mask off. Her shock at seeing it that it was Foster compelled her to fight harder. With a handful of Foster's hair she began banging the woman's head against the floor. The first blow was face first. Her nose and some of her front teeth were broken. Teresa got two more blows in before Foster threw an elbow hitting her in the breast plate. The blow was enough for her to free herself. She scrambled to get away but Teresa grabbed one of her legs and pulled her back. Foster turned over and began kicking wildly. One of the blows hit Teresa in the face. She fell back bleeding from the mouth. By this time Foster was back to her feet rushing Teresa but stopped short of reaching her when she felt a shock of electricity shoot through her body. She dropped to her knees then fell face forward as Morena punched her in the back of the head. Morena had taken Billy's taser and used it on Foster. The fight in Foster was finally gone. Billy was still breathing but unable to move. He was dying slowly. The two women looked at one another then looked around the room.

Morena moved over to Billy and removed his ski mask. "You know this one?" she asked.

"Son of a bitch is a cop," Teresa replied.

"Oh my, God. Pops!" Morena yelled out as she rushed towards the front door.

Teresa took Foster's handcuffs and drug her body over to Billy's where she handcuffed the two together and made sure she had both sets of keys. She took their other weapons and cell phones. She wasn't going to call the police. She figured Black would know what to do and if Foster woke up before he came she wouldn't get far dragging a dead body. There was no way Billy would survive bleeding the way he was from his neck and the other wound in the leg.

Morena finally returned with Pops. He bent down on the floor and scooped up Sparkle. The white pit-bull looked up at Pops with sad eyes as the old man moved as quickly as he could towards the front door.

"Where are you going?" Teresa asked on the brink of tears.

"Not going to just let her die," Pops said. "I have to find a hospital."

"What? No! It's not safe."

"And staying here is?" he asked never breaking his stride all the way to his pick-up truck.

Teresa and Morena followed behind as Morena dialed Black to tell him what had happened.

***

She was sitting across the street in a house with a for sale sign on the front yard. Tucked securely away in a room with closed circuit TV monitors and listening devices, the woman with the British accent had been keeping surveillance of Black ever since he'd come to town. She'd been watching his every move. Her job was to protect her employer's interests and Black was doing a fine job of that whether he realized it or not. Almost everyone connecting back to her employer was eliminated. She packed up the equipment, loaded it into a van out back, and made a phone call. The phone rang once and was picked up.

"Awsum, the town is almost cleaned up. One final crumb to dispose of," she said through the phone before hanging up and climbing into the van to pull off.

Chapter Fifteen

The streets were desolate and cold. James shook off the chill that shot through his bones as he pulled the skull cap slightly down over his eyebrows not leaving very much of his face to be seen. He took his time moving to the ATM machine. He had transferred a small portion of his money from the off shore account to his account in the states. He had been in Burr Ridge for almost a week now. Nothing or no one, other than Witherspoon, was connecting him to what happened to Teresa or the others he'd dumped in the river over the past year. He knew Witherspoon would never speak and their employer had no idea who it was and didn't want to know. He felt bad about not trying to bring Teresa. He contemplated that she was better off without him. He slid the bank card into the machine, keyed in the code followed by the amount he wanted to withdraw, and then waited for the machine to spit the bills out. Once the money was out he retrieved his cash and card and went back to his car. He had nothing to worry about yet he still felt compelled to get out of Illinois. He wanted to see his sister before he left because he didn't know when he would see her again. As he climbed into his car and started the engine he heard the sound of a click behind his head.

"You can have the money and car," he said.

The person behind him remained silent.

James spoke again. "It doesn't have to end badly. I haven't seen your face so you can just take the cash and go. Everyone's happy."

"This isn't just a robbery," the woman's said as she pulled the trigger.

***

Waeltz sat behind his new desk in his new office as the chief of police for the Vermillion County Police Department. Everything had turned out exactly as the stranger had told him it would. Things had changed and a lot all of the officers involved in the Prince case had disappeared. He had no idea what happened to them. Some detective I am he thought. Well he knew what happened to Witherspoon. He couldn't say he was sad. After all it was war. Surely Witherspoon understood. At least that's what Waeltz told himself anyway. He closed his eyes and thought about the week before.

Flashback

He had been called in to the homicide scene of Officer Hunter. He'd been advised that he was called in because he was the primary detective on the Prince case and Hunter was the suspect in that case. When he arrived the first thing he noticed was District Attorney's Benton's car outside. He was surprised but proceeded in.

Benton stood over the body clutching a large manila envelope. She handed the overstuffed package to Waeltz.

"Counselor," he stated looking down at the envelope.

"Detective."

"What's this?" he asked as he opened the envelope. The envelope was filled with bundles of cash. "This Hunter's?" he asked surprised at the contents.

"No. It's yours."

"Mine? Is this some kind of test or set up? Where are the units that called this in?"

"There are no units. This was never called in. The cash is yours. You had a visitor last night... you were told that I would contact you."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me. I ought to—"

"Not rock the boat, Detective," she said cutting him off.

"I don't even know where the boat, as you put it, is going."

"Up the ladder of success if you play your cards right."

Waeltz looked into the envelope again. He gauged that there had to be at least $40,000 dollars in his hand.

"Who's our employer?"

"Doesn't matter. I have a handler and I'm yours. I get the orders and relay them to you."

"What will my orders be?"

"We are in the disposal business."

"Disposal? In Danville?"

"We get busier than you may think."

"So the chick from across the pond is your handler right?"

"Again, I have a handler and I'm yours. That's all you need be concerned about. And Waeltz... you should consider yourself damn lucky that you heard her voice. All other' before you ever heard was the sound of the bullet as it left the chamber."

Waeltz remained silent thinking about last night and how he hadn't heard her come in.

Jordan continued. "Witherspoon is out. He must be disposed of. That's your first assignment. I suggest you assemble a team. Don't get a group of fuck ups like your predecessor did."

He nodded.

"And just to make things clear, this ends the two of us and our thing we had going," she told him. "We can't risk being seen together other than on a professional level."

"Anything else?"

"Yes. If you think about going sideways or backing out you won't make it. Our employer has people everywhere. You never know who you're telling."

She stepped around him and out of the house. He picked up his cell phone and called in the homicide of Officer Hunter.

Present Day

His thoughts were interrupted as someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," he said.

The door opened and Meltzer, the officer who helped with looking into James' file, entered. She closed the door. Gone was the police issued uniform. In its place was a gold badge and pants suit.

"Looking good, Detective," Waeltz said to her.

"Thank you, sir."

"How's the recruitment for that new task force I assigned to you coming along?"

"Have some prospects... looking at a few cops from Detroit."

"You have any problems with... you know....?"

"No, sir. Disposal was a non-issue."

"Good. So what can I help you with, Detective?"

"Nothing. Just giving my progress report on building the team."

"Well...if that's all then..."

She nodded. "Yes, sir." She left the room.

He was left once again with his thoughts. He didn't know how long it would be before they deemed him unnecessary or a liability but he would be prepared whenever they came. He just didn't know how.
Chapter Sixteen

Teresa sat at her table reading the letter over and over again. Black stood at the entrance watching her. Behind him in the hall Whip stood watching Black.

"Why would he do this Black?" Teresa asked more upset than sad.

Black didn't have an answer for her. Not one that would appease her or make her feel better so he remained silent.

She sobbed. "A coward."

"Excuse me?" He didn't understand her meaning.

"A coward! He wasn't even man enough to tell me face to face that he had wanted to end this. A letter? Break it off in a letter?"

"More personal than a text message."

She felt ashamed. She was complaining about what was done to her to the very person she'd done the same thing to. "I guess I am calling the pot black right?"

Black laughed. "The pot is Black." Truth was he felt good about the situation. She had been through a lot and telling her about James would only make this horrible mess even worse. She continued to talk but Black barely listened. He was too busy thinking about what Whip had told him.

***

James trembled in fear as he tried desperately to steer the vehicle with a hole in the windshield. He was deaf in his left ear. He felt the blood running from his ear to the side of his face. He was alive. The woman in the back seat hadn't killed him. She'd just fired a shot to scare him. He wiped the blood from the side of his face.

With the gun still to the back of his head she whispered in his good ear. "Let the blood run. You take your hands off the wheel again I'm putting one in the back of your head."

He nodded letting her know that he understood. He drove as he was directed to an old house on the other side of town. When he arrived he was ordered out of the car and taken into a basement where three other women he'd never seen before waited. It was like a scene out of a movie. The basement had knives, plastic bags, and a table with leather restraints. He gave up the information right away before they cleaned him up, as Whip put it.

***

The more he thought about it the more he smiled. Black was surprised the level of precision that James and Witherspoon had as far as getting rid of criminals. He never found out who was over Witherspoon. James either held that information out over fear or he simply didn't know himself. Black had gotten the blood analysis report back and found out it was James' blood on the asthma pump that Brown had given him. James still didn't admit he was in on the actual rape but Black knew better. Before Whip and her team killed James they made him write a letter to Teresa saying he was going away and not to look for him because it was over. Whip was against it but she did it for her brother.

When the smoke cleared and Waeltz was on top he made Black promise not to release the information about James in order to spare Teresa. After contacting Seshat she had found out that the money was coming from a dummy corporation out of New York. She could dig deeper but he told her to forget it. The factors in the situation were depleted. She froze the accounts, took half of the money from Witherspoon and James, and gave the other half to Black via an offshore account which he in turn gave to Whip and her team. Black smiled. Bad money was going to good use.

"Glad to see you're happy, Black," Teresa said snapping him back to the here and now.

"Oh, no....not smiling for that. Smiling because I know you are a strong woman and will come through this stronger than ever."

"Hmm."

He looked down at the table and saw two engagement rings.

"Here, Black."

"What's this?"

"Your rings."

He looked at her neck and saw another engagement ring dangling from a chain around her neck. "You have three engagement rings?"

She held the ring around her neck. "James gave me this one."

He wanted to tell her then and there that she was wearing the ring of a man that had been hired to kill and bury her. He picked up the two rings. "One is the one I gave you and the other is..."

"The one you gave Morena."

"What?"

"She didn't have the heart to face you. She asked me to."

Black was upset and embarrassed.

Teresa continued. "With everything that went on here, she said it was too much. She left a few hours ago."

"For the best I suppose," he said as he dropped the two rings into his jacket pocket.

"I suppose."

There was a moment of silence.

"How's Sparkle?" Teresa asked with a solemn smile.

"She's okay. Probably the only girl I can hold on to."

Teresa laughed. "Unless she leaves you for, Dad."

Black smiled, bent down and kissed her on the forehead, and then on the lips. "You take care, Teresa."

She smiled.

He turned to leave.

"Black?"

With his back still to her he paused. "Yeah?"

"I lied....I'll always be your Baby Love."

He didn't respond. He continued to the door following his sister out of the apartment and out of Teresa's life.

The End
Excerpt of Dope Fiction
Prologue

Early 90's

Whip sat behind the wheel of her 91 Cutlass, Danesha sat next to her in the passenger seat rolling a blunt. Nicole and Carlene both sat in the back seat.

"How long we have to wait on her to get here?" Carlene asked referring to Cheyenne. She was the final member of their five girl crew.

"You know we can't leave without here." Whip snapped, turning down the volume on the radio.

"Shit, why not she can stay here and we can take Nick." Carlene spat back.

"Nah, Nick ain't cut out for that."

Carlene laughed. "And she's ready to start copping alone right?"

"I made the decision Carlene were not discussing it." Whip was the leader. Not necessarily because she was the toughest but more because she had elements of all of them within her psyche. She was a true hustler like Danesha, loyal like Nicole, a killer like Cheyenne, and a gangster like Carlene. Carlene often bumped heads with Whip, nothing personal just always testing her to see if she would bend or break.

"You'll do fine Nick." Whip said looking at her in the backseat through the rearview mirror. Nicole remained silent, nodding at Whip with an assured stature about herself.

"Yeah as long as she can stay off the bottle until it's done." Danesha added as she lit the blunt and took a pull. Nicole rolled her eyes.

"You can stay here and I can go to Illinois, if you think you can do better." Nicole snapped back. She was the youngest of the group only 19 years old. She found herself always having to fight for respect of the group. It was true she had a drinking problem she would never admit that to her girls especially not to Danesha or Carlene.

"You ain't never killed nothing." Danesha said handing the blunt to Whip.

"What that mean I'm supposed to be scared? The shit ain't hard."

"We done talking about this shit Danesha and Carlene leave the girl alone damn, you bitches is worrisome as hell sometimes. Nick get the shit put it up, wait till we get back."

"Alright." She responded folding her arms across her chest.

"Cool, now get your ass out my car Cheyenne just pulled up."

Nicole did as she was told climbing out as Cheyenne climbed in and sat in her place. Nicole stood watching as the car crept away leaving her standing alone.

***

The wind whistled and howled as Nicole pulled at the straps of her quarter length butter soft leather coat. A matching leather bag was draped over her shoulder. She stuck her hands in her pockets as she rushed into the neighborhood lounge. Pausing to give the security guard a kiss on the cheek she slipped three nicely folded one-hundred dollar bills into his hand. For the three bills he skipped the pat down and she walked right in with her .38 snub. With a wink and a nod she was off to her favorite booth in the corner of the bar. Nicole was a hustler in a crew of female hustlers. They earned a certain degree of respect that was equal if not above the handful of top Black male hustlers in the city. They earned well and knew how to keep their mouth shut so it wasn't unheard of for the local Costa Nostra to hire them to do certain favors from time to time. Everyone had a position to play and Nicole played hers well. She could play all the parts that needed to be filled when they needed to be filled. She could fight and could sell it all from girl, coke, and weed to stolen cars, clothes, and information. She could turn coke to crack pretty well, though not as well as Whip, but if need be she got the job done.

She was riding solo tonight because the other girls had to drive to Chicago for a job they were doing for Whip's brother. Even though she didn't go she would still get a split. That's just how they rolled. If one made money they all made money. Besides someone had to stay home and take care of business. She'd just come from copping three kilos. She knew she should have gone straight to the stash house but figured she would stop off for drinks first. Nicole sat at her favorite table drinking shot after shot and turning down offers to dance by her many admirers. She was very nice to look at. At 19 years old and barely five feet her beautiful brown skin glowed no matter what the lighting in the room was like. With dark brown bedroom eyes she illuminated beauty where ever she went. She was accustomed to all eyes being on her just as they were tonight.

Ickie was no exception. He'd spotted her the moment she entered the room. He sent over a bottle of champagne to let her know he was scoping her. Ickie was an associate of her crew. He ran different scams here and there and had been trying to get with Nicole for a quite a while. He wasn't a bad looking man. Most of the women in the hood wanted him but he just wasn't Nicole's type. Ickie was determined to change her viewpoint. He made his way to her table as the waitress popped the cork on the five hundred dollar bottle of liquor. Before she could pour a glass he retrieved the bottle from the waitress and shooed her off.

"How long you been working here?" Nicole asked jokingly as she picked up the glass and held it for him to pour the champagne.

Ickie poured the drink and the champagne bubbled running over the glass and spilling onto Nicole's hand. Setting the bottle on the table he quickly took her wet hand and slowly licked the champagne from her fingers.

Nicole pulled from his grasp as she wiped the excess alcohol from her hand with a cloth napkin. "Thank you, for the drink...and the foreplay," she said sarcastically.

"My pleasure, Nick. Where the rest of your girls at?"

Nicole placed a cigarette in her mouth, lit it, took a puff and blew the smoke in Ickie's direction. "Why?"

"Cause I asked."

Nicole turned her head away from Ickie. No longer paying him any attention she began nodding her head to the music. Ickie silently eased away from her table as he watched a man slide into the booth next to Nicole and pour himself a glass of the champagne he had just bought. He stared at the two. He felt himself getting angrier with each shot he watched her take. She played him and she would pay. She'll be too drunk to even know what hit her, he thought as he formed a plan in his head. The night progressed slowly from then on as he watched guy after guy get shot down by Nicole. The alcohol was starting to take its effect on her and the vultures were circling as they watched her stumble towards the door. Ickie slithered in her direction opening his suit jacket flashing the butt of his gun at a brother looking a little too overprotective beside her. Upon seeing the gun the guy quickly backed down. Ickie then took Nicole by the arm.

She looked up ready to scold him then stopped once she realized who it was. "Oh, Ickie, thank you. These brothers in here like...like..."

"Dogs in heat."

Nicole laughed. "Yeah, they found the wrong bitch tonight though."

Ickie chuckled.

She continued to slur. "You are so sweet, Ickie."

Sweet? he thought. Fuck sweet. He guided her towards her car and blocking out whatever it was that she was rambling on about. He paid extra attention to her clutching tight to the leather bag. The gesture piqued his interest. "Where your keys at?" he asked as he reached for her bag.

She pulled back from his grasp. "Back up, Ickie." She quickly dug into her bag and pulled out the .38. "Bang, bang!" She mimicked the sound of a quick round before laughing. Seeing that Ickie was unfazed she waved the gun once more, still laughing, then dropped the weapon back in her purse before grabbing her car keys.

"Girl, you silly as hell." Ickie looked at her cautiously.

She fumbled with the key chain before managing to unlock the door, open it and climb in behind the wheel. She closed the door, put the key in the ignition, and turned the engine.

Ickie stood outside the car tapping on her car window. Nicole hit the down button and as the window rolled down he peered inside. "You shouldn't be driving."

"I'm fine."

"At least let me call someone."

"Thanks but..."

"Let me ride home with you and I can catch a cab from..."

Nicole rolled her eyes and grunted in frustration. "Get in man, damn."

Ickie rushed around to the passenger's seat before she could change her mind, opened the door, and got in. Quickly Nicole pulled off into traffic before he could close the door.

***

Nicole woke up in a hotel room fully clothed lying in bed. Her head was spinning. Slowly she sat up in bed as she tried to figure out where she was and how she had gotten there. She was alone as far as she could tell. Bits and pieces of the night came back to her in a blur. She thought about Ickie. Had he gotten the room for her? Did he try to do anything to her? She looked down and checked her clothes. Other than her missing shoes nothing on her was out of place, not even a button undone. Her mouth felt dry and her stomach was growling. Sliding from the bed she observed the room. She felt panic sweep over her as she moved about desperately looking for her leather bag. How could I have been so stupid? She thought as she burst into the bathroom. Stopping in her tracks she stood with her mouth agape as her eyes fell upon Ickie laid out in the tub with her gun on top of him and the leather bag thrown carelessly on the tiled floor.

Ignoring the body in the tub she went straight for the leather bag. "No, no, no!" She murmured to herself repeatedly as she paced the small bathroom. She was unable to recall a huge portion of the night and she had no idea how she had ended up there nor what she could do to fix her current predicament. A knock at the door took her out of her trance. Nicole rushed to the door shaking with anxiety. "Yeah?"

"Housekeeping."

"Not now. I'm staying an extra day."

The woman didn't say another word. Nicole put her ear to the door and listened as she heard the cart move away from the door and the housekeeper knock on another door. She returned to the bathroom being careful not to touch anything. She let her eyes scour the area looking for her missing merchandise from the leather bag. Making her way back to the room she sat at the desk and thought about her next move. Only one name came to mind. Courtney Awsum. He had once told her that should she ever need anything she could count on him. She couldn't go to her girls. She'd lost three bricks of cocaine and had a dead man in the tub. On top of that she had no idea how either happened. She'd had one job: cop the coke and put it up. Whip was supposed cook it when they got back from Chicago. Maybe the girls were right when they'd previously warned her that she had a drinking problem. But it was too late to dwell on that now. All out of options, she picked up the phone and called Courtney.

Thirty minutes later Nicole found herself forcing down cof-fee as she waited impatiently. She really needed a drink. After calling Courtney she had called down to the desk to book the room for another night which proved to be yet another mistake on her part once she found out that the room was in Ickie's name. She'd quickly hung up and called Courtney back to inform that there was one more problem for him to fix. Nicole was no fool she knew that no one did anything from the kindness of their heart but, whatever the price he asked, if he brought her out of this winning she would gladly pay whatever.

Her nerves were on edge as she stood in the bathroom en-trance and stared at Ickie's lifeless frame. What the hell did he do to make me do this? She thought to herself. She whipped her head in the direction of the door as the sound of knocking took her out of her trance. Please let that be Courtney, she silently prayed to herself as she rushed to the door.

"Who is it?" She stood in front of the white painted steel door and yelled at the presence on the other side. Anxiety was killing her.

"It's me!" A deep baritone voice answered back.

She snatched the door open and walked away not looking back to see if he was alone which he wasn't. He was followed by a man and a woman both wheeling in suitcases behind them.

"Nick, these are my associates," Courtney explained bring-ing her attention to the tag-alongs. "Do as they say and every-thing should flow smoothly."

Nicole nodded yes as she began biting her nails.

"Good." The woman with a British accent was relieved that there would be no resistance. She picked up her suitcase, sat it on the bed, and removed new clothes and shoes. The tags were still on the garments. She handed the clothes to Nicole. "Go change. Do a quick wash in the sink of all visible areas. Hands up to your elbows, face, neck, behind your ears. Any place that may have blood splatter."

Nicole was astonished. "Blood splatter? I didn't kill this guy!"

Courtney raised his eyebrow at her defensive outburst. "Are you going to do what they say or are you going to debate your innocence?" He was obviously annoyed.

Nicole made her way to the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Ten minutes later she was changed holding her old clothes in her hand. The man who had yet to speak opened a black hefty garbage bag and Nicole promptly dropped the clothes into it.

Courtney took her by the arm and led her to the door. "Go out into the hall, bypass the elevator straight to the end of the hallway and get onto the service elevator. Take it down to the basement. Get off of the elevator and take a left. Walk until you see a black caravan. The door will be unlocked. Get into the van. The keys are in the ignition. Drive yourself home." His instructions were precise. Courtney was thorough if nothing else and could not omit the last bit of information Nicole needed. "I couldn't get the product you are missing in such short notice but underneath the passenger seat of the van is a bag of cash. It's the money you spent on the product."

Nicole let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much, Court-ney. I owe you one. I'll pay you back every penny."

Courtney nodded. "I know you will. The money part I know you're good for it and as far as the mess in the bath-room... I know if I ever need anything you got me."

"Anything! Just ask." She gave him a hug and sighed once more as he kissed her forehead. It was all so perfect. "Court-ney?"

"Yes?"

"Can we keep this between us? Whip and the other girls don't need to know."

He smiled. "Not a problem."

Whip dropped her travel bag on the floor near the door. She'd just made it back in to Indy from the business trip to Chicago. Exhausted she shed her clothes dropping them on the floor as she made her way to the bathroom to take a shower. She turned on the bathroom light then turned the water on in the shower. Letting the water run Whip stood nude in the center of the bathroom looking at her reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall. Her mocha complexion was complimented nicely by her soft curly hair. She climbed into the shower just as the bathroom began to fill with steam. After a few minutes of basking in the warmth of the steady flowing stream she heard banging on her front door. Hopping out of the tub she wrapped herself in a towel she rushed to the door.

"Who is it?" She hollered as she tore down the hallway. She was annoyed that someone would have the audacity to interrupt her moment of tranquility.

"Courtney."

Whip paused in mid-step upon hearing the response. She bit into her bottom lip and considered the reason for his abrupt visit. Getting over her apprehension she took the final four steps to the door and opened it. "Sorry. I was in the shower." She turned away and headed back to her bedroom.

Courtney entered the apartment then closed and locked the door. "It's alright. Didn't mean to be an imposition but I stopped by 'cause I needed to talk to you about something important."

"I'm listening," she yelled from her bedroom with the door wide open.

Courtney stood at the head of the hallway and hollered back towards Whip's open door. "It's about Nick." No longer concerned with decorum Courtney made his way down the hall towards her bedroom. He stood in the doorway and took in the scene. She had one foot on the bed and one on the floor as she applied lotion to her leg.

Whip made a few exaggerated movements as she glided her hand up and down her calf being sure to part her legs to give him a full view of her freshly shaven vagina. She paused and looked up at him with bare flesh glistening from the lotion. "Uh, excuse me. Can I help you?" She had a hint of attitude in her tone.

Courtney took his time examining her body. Starting at her feet his eyes scoured every inch of her mocha frame. "Yeah, you can help me." He walked into the room like a black panther about to mate with his female counterpart. He picked her up by her waist and threw her onto the bed.

She stared back venomously. Her nostrils flared and she felt goose bumps race across her flesh in response to his touch. Like a wild animal she pounced from the bed landing on his chest. She wrapped her legs around his midsection and one arm around his neck to hold herself up. She dug her nails into his neck with her free hand until blood ran freely. Courtney pulled her by her hair yanking her neck back then suckled its taunt skin so fiercely she thought he might suck a vein out. They both grunted in ecstasy as he fell forward on top of her onto the bed.

After the third romp of their impromptu sexual escapade they both lay nude with the blanket halfway on the bed and halfway on the floor. Staring at the ceiling they took turns puffing a joint lost in their own thoughts. The sex was just as good as Whip thought it would be a problem in and of itself was because it meant she would want more. If he was feeling her as much as she was feeling him then there was an even bigger problem because that meant there would be more escapades. In her line of business she couldn't afford to get caught up in emotions and desires. Not wanting to think about it further nor ruin the serene mood she broke the silence. "What did you need to tell me about Nicole?"

Courtney scooped her into his arms and held her to his chest. "Never mind."

Whip pushed against his chest prying herself from his grasp. She sat up. "Whatever. You wanted something. You didn't just pop up over her to seduce me."

He rolled over turning his back to her. "Don't act like you didn't want this to happen."

She pushed the back of his head muffing his face into the pillow. "Just 'cause I wanted it, ain't mean it had to go down."

Courtney sat up and rose from the bed. "So it shouldn't have gone down?"

She stared up at him and watched his pole begin to extend. She gasped as it began to pulsate. She was silently in awe.

"Are we going talk about this or are you going to stare at my dick?" He was taunting her.

Upset she climbed from the bed and stood directly in front of him. Staring up into his eyes she angrily poked his bare chest. "Talk about this? Who you fooling? You didn't come over here to talk to me." Without another word she slyly knelt down taking his jones directly into her mouth and suckled as if he were lactating.

***

Present Day

Kill the brain, the body must die!

~Cheyenne

"Thank you again, Governor Love. This is a great book!" The female patron gushed as Ally Love signed a copy of her latest title "Dust off the Ashes."

"My pleasure. And please call me Ally. I'm not your Governor anymore." She handed the book to the woman and smiled.

"No disrespect, Ally, but you have done more for the people in this city in the years you were in office than anyone has done in the past twenty years. And your new book..." The woman held the book close to her chest. "Dust off the Ashes will be a best seller and the fact that you're donating all the proceeds to the battered women's shelter proves that you are a God send. For that and everything else you've done you will always be my Governor."

Ally hugged the woman. "Thank you. I sincerely hope you enjoy the book."

The woman turned and exited the Oakley Auditorium in Ivy Tech's Community College clutching the novel as if it were a sacred heirloom. The college had hosted for a lecture and book signing. Both had gone well but now things were wrap-ping up. She looked around the auditorium for her husband. Late again, she thought to herself. Checking her IPHONE for any missed messages she saw that there were none. Dropping the phone into her purse she began packing her laptop into her bag to leave.

"What's good, Whip?" A voice called from the seats.

Ally's back was to the seating area and she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She hadn't gone by the street moniker in over twenty years. Who would dare address her as such in this arena? She turned around smiling half-heartedly as she placed her hand in front of her face in an attempt to block the spotlight that was shining in her eyes. She remained silent as she watched the shadowy figure carrying a knapsack approach the stage. When the person was near enough for Ally to get a clear view she tore away from the stage abandoning her belongings. The first thing she noticed was that she was wearing black from head to toe. Black hoody, jeans, boots and leather gloves. She also wore the four karat canary yellow diamond earrings she had given her one year for her birthday. Ally was shocked. "Oh my God! When did you get home?" She threw her arms around the woman in a strong embrace.

"A couple hours ago."

"Thank God, he brought you back home to us."

"I'm home alright. It had nothing to do with God though."

Ally took a step back and looked at her old friend. She smiled. "In any case it's good to see you, I see you still have the earrings."

Cheyenne ran both hands across the diamonds in her ear-lobes. "How are the rest of the girls?"

"Oh God... we haven't gotten together since... well you know... since you went away."

"I went away huh?" Cheyenne's eyebrow rose. "Like a breeze in the wind."

Ally tried to keep her tone even. "I wrote you and put money on your books. Why did you take my name off of the visiting list?"

"I was doing my time. I didn't need anyone to do that time with me. I jumped in front of that bullet, Whip."

"Don't be so bleak, Cheyenne." Ally looked around at the few stragglers that were still in the auditorium. "And I don't go by Whip anymore. Just call me Ally. Those days are behind me."

Cheyenne took a step back and looked at Ally analyzing her eyes and face. "Ally. Right. It's a real shame though, Whip." She held her hands up as if she were mixing ingredients in a pot over a stove. "When you was in that kitchen, you had the best whip game out there. Hit the product with a little water, baking soda, and bam! Man, you turned a thousand grams into a brick and a half every rip and it still tasted like butter."

Ally felt her skin crawl listening to Cheyenne reminisce about the old days.

Cheyenne paused noticing her old buddy's discomfort. She smiled with dark eyes. "But yeah, those days are behind you. Me, I don't know so much."

Ally turned to retrieve her things. "Well you came here for a reason, Cheyenne. So what's up?"

Cheyenne chuckled. "Still the same ol' Whip. Straight to the point right?"

Ally's eyes narrowed and her nose flared at the blatant dis-respect. "Some shit don't change huh?" she asked in a hushed tone between clenched teeth. "Same ol' Cheyenne shitting on whoever doing whatever she wants."

"Yeah well I suppose some people don't change. You know we all can't trade in two-hundred dollar jeans for two thousand dollar suits. When it comes to people like me, no matter what, once a gangster always a gangster. 'Ya feel me?"

Ally didn't like where the conversation was headed and attempted to pass Cheyenne to exit the stage area. "If you say so. It was nice seeing you but I have to go."

Cheyenne blocked her path.

Ally took a step back and stared at the other woman ag-aggressively. She had always been the less skilled fighter of the crew but was undoubtedly the one with the most heart and was always the first one to run to a fight. "Move, Cheyenne."

"Not before I'm done."

Ally placed her hands on her hips. "Well speak your peace so I can be on my way."

Cheyenne held up both of her hands in a non-defensive manner. "I just want an autograph."

Ally stared back disbelievingly.

Cheyenne chuckled. "Straight up, Whip."

Ally shot her a nasty look. The doors resounded throughout the empty room as the last attendees exited. Ally felt uncomfortable.

"I mean, Ally, just an autograph." Cheyenne spoke with mock sincerity. "Seriously."

Letting down her guard she attempted to pass Cheyenne once more and pointed to a box sitting on a tote bag sitting in a chair on the front row of the stadium seats. "Let me get you a book."

Cheyenne blocked her again.

Ally was annoyed. "Ugh, what is this, Cheyenne? I don't have time to-"

Cheyenne reached into the army fatigue knapsack she was carrying and removed a copy of Ally's book. "I brought my own."

Ally felt a little guilty about her behavior. It had been al-most two decades since they'd last seen one another. She had forgotten how aggressive Cheyenne's personality was. Placing her hand on her forehead Ally laughed nervously. "Girl, I'm sorry. I'm tripping." Ally quickly pulled out a pen and signed the book before handing it back to Cheyenne. "I didn't think you would read stuff like this."

"Usually don't. Just stuff on human nature and the natural laws of nature shit." Cheyenne looked down at the novel and stepped to the side.

Ally passed her laughing. "Shit like that huh?"

"Yeah. Shit. Like...you know."

Amused Ally paused and turned back to face Cheyenne. "Enlighten me on shit, as you so elegantly put it."

Cheyenne swung the hardcover book smacking Ally square across the temple with the flat side of the book. Ally's head involuntarily jerked to the side as a second blow with the spine of the book smashed against her windpipe. Falling backwards clutching at her throat Cheyenne throttled her pummeling her throat with ferocious blows until her windpipe cracked. "Enlighten you? Huh, smart mouth bitch? Everyone knows you kill the brain, the body must die!"

About the Author

Antwan Floyd Sr. is an avid reader, poet, author, publisher, graphic designer & father. With his own brand of storytelling he brings a different perspective to the literary world. He launched Bleeding Pen Publishing in 2005 and has since released several titles in paperback and in eBook format. He currently resides in Indianapolis, IN where he is working on his next project.

