Around ten, I guided my car into Dimes. An exclusive strip club on Hollandale. In order to get into Dimes you had to have an invite or be a member. I pulled up to the entrance and stepped out of my car. On the way in to the club I tossed my keys to the valet. Inside a topless hostess named Spice greeted me and led me to my regular table. I sat back and took in the scenery. I checked out the other patrons to make sure no shit would jump off with any unseen foes. When satisfied that it would be a nonviolent night I ordered Vodka on the rocks and waited.
I didn't have long to wait, because twenty minutes later, Tiger an informant that I used from my years with the MDPD, pulled out the chair across from me. Tiger was Puerto Rican and in his mid-twenties. I busted him on a narcotics charge that could have landed him in prison doing a ten year bid. I swept the charges under the rug for information on a missing person case I was working at the time. Because of his information, I found the girl before her kidnapper had a chance to inflict on her the same torture he had inflicted on his previous victims. After that Tiger fed me leads on a regular basis, but always for a price.
"Hey Antonio man, you been gone for so long I thought your ass had finally became grass." Tiger said. He signaled a bare breasted waitress over.
"Then who would keep your old lady in Gucci and Louie, for the price you be charging me for info?" I asked.
Tiger slipped a twenty into the waitress's boot and slapped her on the ass and told her to hurry back with his drink. She gave him a wink and sauntered over to the bar.
"Well you know what they say, the best things in life cost like a motherfucker." Tiger replied with an obnoxious laugh.
"So what you know good?" I asked as I eyed a Philippine dancer that hit the stage.
"Not much Antonio, shit has been kind of quiet. It's like the streets are waiting for something big to go down. I can tell you this. My Jamaican connects have been telling me a Female has been asking all the wrong questions, wanting to know all the wrong things." Tiger said.
He leaned back in his chair when the waitress sat his Hennessey and coke down on the table. I waited for the waitress to move on to another table and then asked, "And I need to know this why?"
"She is asking around about some old friends of yours?"
"And which would that be, the Russians, Mexicans, or the Eurasians?" I asked.
I signaled to the waitress to bring me another glass of Vodka.
"The Sons of Change."
With that he had my full attention and he knew it. I had been looking for them since I found out what those tattoo's those guard's sported, the night my sister was taken, stood for. Looking for them had proven impossible. You might as well have been looking for a ghost. Not too many people knew about that organization and those who did pretty much kept it to themselves. What you did not do was go around asking about them, not unless you wanted to be one less person looking for them. This chick must have a death wish.
"The girl, is she still in Jamaica?"
"No, my contact says that she boarded a flight to the Bahamas about a week ago."
This could be the break I've been looking for. This chick and I definitely had to have to a conversation.
"You think you can get me the info I need to track this female down?" I asked.
"I don't know Antonio man, that shit is gonna cost."
"It always cost."
I waved a dancer away from the table with a smile that promised to get at her later.
"I know but this time it's different. By her asking about the Son's, she becomes the Son's business to deal with as they see fit. And nobody makes inquiries into the Son's business without having problems for it."
"Get me the info I need to track this chick down and you can tell your old lady she can add Prada to her shopping list." I replied.
I drained my glass again and slammed it down on the table.
"Alright, I'm on it." He said, with a, it's your ass, shrug.
Tiger called over the Philippine dancer, with a swaying twenty. I stood as she approached no longer in the mood to be dry humped. I had things that had to be considered so I needed solitude.
"How soon do you think you'll have what I need?" I asked, tossing two bills on the table.
"Meet back here in twenty-four hours I will have something by then. Just make sure you have something too." Tiger replied and snatched the bills up off the table and slid them into the pocket inside of his coat.
I nodded and then left him at the table to drool over the dancer. After I reclaimed my car I drove around for a while before I finally decided to head home. About five minutes into my drive I realized that I was being followed by an all-black sedan with limo tint. I changed directions not wanting the person following me to know that I was on to him. I eased into the parking lot of the convenient store. The parking lot was empty and there was only one clerk standing behind the counter.
Before I got out of my car, I opened up my glove compartment. I kept my thirty-eight there. Sticking the gun in the waist line of my pants, slid from the car. As I walked in the store I asked the clerk where the bathroom was. The bored overweight cashier pointed me into the direction of the men's room. I locked the door behind me and climbed on top of the toilet. I struggled with the bathroom window for a minute until the window slid up halfway.
That was all I needed to get my body through the window. Landing lightly on the balls of my feet, I eased around the building taking care to keep to the shadows. I continued forward and crouched in a tiny crawl spot that was nestled between bushes and the side of the store building. It gave me a perfect view of the car that was parked across the street. I remained still while I waited to see what the occupants of the car were going to do when they realized I had been in the store for way too long. The minutes ticked by, but I didn't move. After forty-five minutes passed the car door to the black Sedan slowly opened. I took my gun from the waist band; cocked the hammer back and took aim at the passenger door.
My heart pumped with adrenaline. If I was unseasoned it would have been hard for me to keep my gun steady. Over the years I learned how to channel adrenaline and make it work for me. I watched one leg appear cautiously from the passenger door. When the passenger was sure the coast was clear, the person fully emerged from the car. I readied to squeeze the trigger but released it when recognition flared in my mind. It was Martinez, a detective from the narcotics unit.
What the hell was Martinez up to? I slid my gun back in my waist band. Martinez took his gun out of his holster, crossed the street and approached the store. Assured his attention was on the store, I eased out of my crouch spot and bounded across the street. Continuing to stick to the shadowed spots that the street lights didn't shine on. Once I made it to the Sedan I withdrew my gun, and yanked open the back door on the driver's side. I slid in the seat, and placed my gun behind the right ear of Willoughby, Martinez's partner.
"Willoughby, what kind of dumb fuck leaves the car doors unlocked on a steak out?" I asked.
Reaching over the left side of the driver's seat, I took the gun out of the holster that was strapped to his side. I removed the clip, letting it drop on the floor of the backseat.
"Rodriguez, man you scared the shit out of me." Willoughby turned around and came, head to barrel with my gun. Not bothering to lower the weapon, I smiled. Out the corner of my eye I saw Martinez carefully make his way back to the car. He looked all around as if he expected me to jump out of the shadows, waving my thirty-two. After careful survey of the parking lot he opened the passenger door and climbed in.
"Man I think he gave us-" He broke off mid-sentence at the sight of me holding a gun to his partners head.
"Now why would I do that when you went through all this trouble to invite me to this little party of yours?"
I asked, gesturing with my head for him to put down his gun. Following my directions, he emptied the chamber on his piece, and then tossed it on the back seat next to me. When I felt sure that nobody was going to die tonight, I lowered my weapon.
"What Rodriguez, you been playing with the bad guys for so long, you stop trusting the good one?" Martinez asked.
"It's not the good guys I'm worried about. It's the guys who don't know if they want to be bad or good that keeps me up at night. So what is this about Martinez, why the hell are you and your girlfriend tailing me?" I asked.
"We weren't tailing you, asshole we were following that slime ball you met at that strip club tonight. Imagine our surprise when we saw you all chummy with him, kicking back drinks as if you two were old pals." Willoughby said.
I gave him a smirk and turned to Martinez.
"You really ought to teach her how to be quiet when grown men are talking."
Martinez laughed and Willoughby turned four shades of red.
"Rodriguez, stop with the jokes." Martinez said as he concealed a grin from his partner. "What were you doing with that piece of shit? Tiger's not just a two bit nickel and dime pusher anymore. Your boy is moving major weight for the Empress."
"What the hell does that have to do with me? The last time I checked police business was no longer my business," I said, trying to shake Cleopatra James from my mind. I'd spent a better part of my early years on the force attempting to save her ass only to find out she was much better equipped to save herself. That is when she wanted to be saved.
"I know you're no longer with the force, but you still have an obligation to your prior position to uphold." Willoughby stated going all holier than thou on me.
His mouth began to twitch, and that ruined the whole sermon. Willoughby had acquired a nervous tick from his five hundred dollar a week cocaine habit. Quirking the corner of my mouth in smirk, dismissing his hypocritical ass.
"You and my prior position can go fuck yourselves, I have no obligations." I spat back at him, and then his twitches turned to trembles.
"Now if that is all you ladies have to say-"
"Antonio, I wouldn't be so smug if I were you. You have big time international enemies in high places, you could use friends like us," Martinez said.
"And you can now add the Pakistani's to that list." I said.
"You think this is a game? Look we can't protect you, our jurisdiction only extends so far. But if you can give us-" Martinez began.
"Martinez, are you really going to do that? Are you really going to play me like I'm a two bit criminal? I'm the one who taught you that old song and dance." I said.
Martinez dropped his good cop role. "Look, it's just a matter of time before your boy falls. Make sure you don't get caught up and end up falling with him," he yelled.
I gave Martinez and Willoughby one last look and opened the back seat door.
"Rodriguez, keep your nose clean." Willoughby said.
"It's funny you should say that, Willoughby, when I know for a fact how much your cocaine habit has contributed to the rebuilding Peru's economy." With that I let the car door slam behind me and jogged back across the street to my car.
Before I opened my car door I heard the sedan leave the parking lot, tires screeching as it sped off. Climbing in my ride, I wondered about the real reason I had Miami's dumbest on my ass, because the shit they handed me about Tiger was south of the truth. If they were really following Tiger, then why blow your stake, just to come after me? Dollars didn't make cents, but it's not like it ever did when it came to those two.
I cranked my car and eased out of the store's parking lot. I didn't realize how tired I was until I put the key into the lock of my house. When I opened the door to my condo I didn't have to turn on the lights to see that my place was trashed.
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
I pulled the gun from my waist band and checked the rooms. One by one I cleared the area. Whoever trashed my place had already gone. As I surveyed the damage, I did a quick inventory and affirmed nothing was taken. What were the odds I would be tailed then have my house broken into? Maybe I should buy a damn lottery ticket, because odds say I'm one in a damn million.
I spent half of the night cleaning up my condo. The other half I spent tossing and turning on my sofa. Around dawn I was awakened to a banging sound at my front door. As I left my spot on the couch, I snatched my gun from under the cushion, before making my way to the door. Peering through the peep hole, I frowned. Who the fuck was he? I didn't recognize anything about the guy who stood on the other side of the door. I sprinted back to the living room and grabbed my piece I placed underneath the cushion of the sofa I slept on. "Yes?"
"Is a Mr. Rodriguez in residence?" A timid voice asked from the other side of the door. Quickly I slid the gun to my left hand, concealing the gun behind the door as I opened it a crack. Giving the man a once over, the corner of my mouth hitched. He looked like a tourist who needed directions.
"What do you want with him?" I asked.
"Are you Mr. Rodriguez?"
He tried to peer around me into my house.
"What can I do for you Mr. ...?"
He gave me an uncomfortable look and handed me a business card that said Karyn Phillips.
"Who the hell is Karyn Phillips?" I asked.
"My boss, may I come in?" The little man asked.
"No." I replied.
"My boss would like to retain your services."
He fidgeted under my glare.
"If your boss wants to hire me, then she needs to come to my office just like everyone else."
"That's the thing Mr. Rodriguez; she is not like everyone else. To be seen going into your place of business-"
"Is she a person?" I asked
"Of course."
"Does she have two legs and two arms?"
"Yes, yes!"
"Okay here comes the tricky part. If you cut her, does she bleed red?" I stared at him as if his answer was more important than the winning numbers on tonight's lotto.
"Yes! I don't understand what-"
"Then, yes, she is in fact like everyone else," I said, letting the door slam in his face.
*****
When I walked into the office that afternoon I asked Sherry if Kenyon was in his office. She answered me by rolling her eyes. So she was still mad at me from yesterday, she would get over it.
I turned toward Kenyon's office and tapped twice on the door before I opening it. Kenyon sat behind his desk studying something on his computer monitor.
"I thought I told that when you knock you are supposed to wait for an answer."
"Yeah, well you tell me a lot of things. Hey K, do you still have contacts on the force?" I asked plopping down in the chair that sat across from his desk.
"Why, are you working on a new case?" Kenyon asked as he pounded away on his keyboard. Like me Kenyon had also been a detective with the MDPD. He'd actually been my partner. After I was thrown off the force he opted to come with me. His contacts in the department still remained loyal to him for reasons he had never felt the need to explain to me.
"No, Martinez and Willoughby followed me last night after I left Dimes." I answered.
"Did you call them on it?" He asked.
"Yeah, they claim they were tailing a perp. Since the guy and I shared a table, drink, and mild conversation, they thought they should tail me instead. I swear I don't know how those two made detective."
"I think Willoughby's father-in-law is connected to the commissioner in some way, and Martinez is good at applying his lips to the right asses," Kenyon offered.
"Yeah well I don't trust them, they reek of dirty cop. I need to find out what they're up to ASAP. I don't need any surprises biting me in the ass, while I'm tryin' to move around." I said.
Kenyon looked at me for a moment. He knew there was more to last night than I was telling him. I only told Kenyon things on a need to know basis, not because I didn't trust him. Truth is Kenyon was the only person I trusted. I missed him with a lot of shit because I didn't want to compromise him. How I handled my business would tarnish his virgin white reputation.
"I'll see what I can find out." He said.
"What's up man, you alright?" I asked when him knocked over a cup that was filled with pens and pencils in an attempt to reposition the stack of papers he had just finished shuffling.
"What? Oh, yeah I'm fine man. I just haven't been sleeping that well since April and I broke up. You know how it is," He said as he tried to catch the pens and pencils that rolled in all different directions.
"No I don't. Why look back when there is always other shit on the horizon?" I said, standing, and then walking to the door.
"Well, that's not me man. I really liked April. She was cool, and who knows where it could have gone if she would've not made ultimatums." He picked up the picture of her on his desk, and stared at the photograph.
"It would not have gone anywhere. April was one of those boss chicks that always had to have shit her way. Even if you would've married her, she still would've continued making demands and ultimatums until she finally had your ass in that dress she was always trying to put you in." I watched as his expression changed from open to close. The conversation was over.
"I'll have what you need as soon as possible. For the time being stay out of Martinez and Willoughby's way. They're not squeaky clean. If they feel like you might be in their business, let's just say you can add them to your list as another problem."
"Look, I can handle Martinez and Willoughby, but it wouldn't hurt to know what's in their hand." I replied, before leaving the office. I went across the hall to my office, and I wasn't there five minutes, before Sherry buzzed me over the intercom.
"Antonio you have a client here to see you and he doesn't have an appointment." Her voiced filled my office. Shit another job? No motherfucking go! After I found out what I needed to know tonight, I was not going to be available to do any more jobs for the next few weeks' if not months, but Kenyon would still need the business, though.
"Send him in." I replied.
Sherry knocked on the door of my office.
"Come on in."
She opened the door, and then pinned my ass with a hateful look, before stepping back to let the client enter.
The man that walked in wore a trench coat, wig, and had on dark sunglasses that hid his eyes and almost half of his face. What the hell was this, it was eighty-five degrees outside and this jack ass had on a trench coat? Had Sherry's dumb ass actually allowed him into the office, looking like that? I reached for the automatic I kept in a holster under my desk. Cocking it, I aimed it at his head.
"Mr. Rodriguez, please don't shoot. I'm here on the behalf of my boss. Remember we spoke this morning when I came to your home." The man explained as he snatched off his wig, and pulled the sunglasses from his face. Recognizing the nerdy looking man from my house, I frowned, and placed my gun back in the holster under my desk.
"What can I do for you Mr.?" I asked, more than mildly annoyed.
As I sat back in my office chair, I couldn't help but take in the absurdity of the man and his costume. He was going to fuck around and get his ass killed walking around in that bullshit.
"Oscar, Oscar Cunningham," he said withdrawing a handkerchief from his trench coat pocket and wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"Mr. Cunningham I don't have all day, what the hell do you want?" I asked.
"My boss would like to retain your services. May I sit down?" He asked ready to take the seat right across from my desk.
"No. Why are you dressed like some 1970's porn star?"
"It was my boss's idea for me to come here in disguise. Paparazzi would have a field day if they got wind of her entertaining the notion of hiring a P.I." Oscar answered in an awkward half sitting and half standing pose.
"We offer the up most discretion here. We never discuss cases that we're working on or have worked," I assured, giving him the same shit we gave to every client with trust issues. "So who is your boss and what would she like for me to do for her?"
"Before I disclose information I have a confidentiality contract I would like you to sign."
"What? I'm not signing no damn contract. She wants my help!"
"Look, it's just to insure my boss's privacy; it is not meant to cause any offense against you or your establishment," he said, glancing around the office.
Cautiously, he reached inside his trench coat and produced a mini notepad and pen. He opened the pad began to write. When he finished writing he ripped out the sheet, and handed it to me.
"This is the amount of the bonus my boss is willing to pay for accepting the job. The second amount is for when the job is completed," he explained.
I glanced down at the paper, and almost swallowed my damn tongue. The bonus was double that of our most expensive job. The payment for finishing the job was unreal. Maintaining a straight face, I picked up the phone and dialed Kenyon's office. He picked up on the second ring.
"What's up Tonio?" He answered.
"Can I get you to come in my office for a minute?"
"Why? What's wrong?" He asked, sounding aggravated.
"Just get your ass in my office," I said, before slamming down the phone.
Extending my hand, I gestured for Oscar to have a seat. As he sat Kenyon knocked on the door, and let himself into the office.
"What's going on?" Kenyon asked as he glanced from Oscar to me.
"Kenyon, this is Oscar Cunningham," I said, getting the introductions out of the way. "Oscar this is my partner Kenyon Michaels. If we decide to take the case this is who you and your boss will be dealing with."
"Nice to meet you Mr. Cunningham." Kenyon replied.
Kenyon extended his hand to Oscar who looked at it as if it was a Cobra ready to strike. "I must object Mr. Rodriguez, my boss asked for your services specifically. I'm not sure if she would tolerate a replacement."
"I'm sorry, but I am working on another case that will be taking me out of the country. Either you work with Kenyon or tell your boss she's gonna have to find someone else," I said.
"I cannot make that decision for my boss Mr. Rodriguez," Oscar explained in a frustrated voice.
"Well you had better give her a call because I don't have the time to go back and forth with you about this." I replied.
Oscar gave me a nervous glance and then reached in his trench coat again and produced a cell phone. He punched a number and placed the phone to his ear.
"Hello? Ms. Flame? Yes, I'm here with him right now. No he hasn't agreed. No Ms. Flame it's not the money. He is working another case right now and has offered you his partner services. I know but he said you'll have to take it or leave it. No I don't know, hold on and I'll ask. Mr. Rodriguez, will you at least allow Mr. Michaels to consult with you if Ms. Flame agrees to your terms?" He asked as he placed his hand over the mouthpiece of the cell phone.
"Mr. Michaels and I always consult with each other on cases. If he needs my opinion on anything he knows how to contact me."
Oscar then removed his hand from the mouth piece of the cell phone.
"Yes, he says that is not a problem. No I haven't gotten them to sign the confidentiality contract yet. Okay if I must then I will goodbye, Ms. Flame."
Oscar closed the cell phone and put it back in his trench coat.
"Well what's it going to be?" I asked impatiently.
"She said she doesn't foresee a problem as long as your partner can consult with you about the case."
"And what case am I being assigned to without my knowledge or consent?" Kenyon asked as he took a seat in the chair next to Oscar.
"That is what Mr. Cunningham is getting ready to explain," I said, glancing down at the confidentiality contract and skimming over it. When satisfied, I wasn't signing away shit I couldn't afford to part with, I signed the line with the X next to it, and then slid the paper over to Kenyon to do the same.
"As you already know I am here on the behalf of my boss. You may know her as Diamond Flame." He paused and waited for our reaction. We just stared at him.
"You know the Diamond Flame? Rock princess. Sold over fifty million albums last year."
I didn't have any idea of who the hell he was talking about and really didn't give a shit.
"Okay now that we established your boss is some kind of rock legend, what exactly can do for her?" I asked.
"Well, Ms. Flame is engaged currently to be married to an NBA player. He has joined her here in Miami for a discreet vacation before she starts to prepare for her tour which is scheduled for the month after next. However, since being here he's been quite distracted. This leaves Ms. Flame to feel rather uneasy about her engagement to him. She thinks he might be involved with another woman and would like for you to either prove or disprove her suspicions."
"Who's the guy I'm investigating?" Kenyon asked.
"Kyle Washington." Oscar replied.
"I know him; he was drafted by the Hawks about two years ago right?" I said.
I saw him play with the Hawks against Orlando. Something was definitely not right about dude.
"Yes that is him," Oscar said, bobbing his head.
"Give me a day or so to wrap up what I'm working on and I'll set up a meeting with either Ms. Flame or you." Kenyon said.
"Oh you will be dealing with Ms. Flame from now own. She would like to keep anything you may find private," Oscar said.
"Well if that's all, Mr. Cunningham," I said.
Oscar stood, and the wig and sunglasses clattered to the floor. He snatched them up and hurriedly put them back on.
"It was nice meeting you, Mr. Michaels. Ms. Flame will have the check sent over per messenger soon as she files the confidentiality agreement with her lawyer tomorrow morning."
Kenyon waited for Oscar to leave.
"What check? He doesn't pay until he gets the information."
"Little miss rock 'n roll money bags is giving us a bonus for accepting the case and keeping quiet about it." I slid the folded piece of paper over to Kenyon. He took a look at it and released a low whistle.
"Man that's a lot of zeros." He replied.
"That's how I like my checks," I said with a grin. "With a lotta comas and major zeros."
*****
I sat at my usual table at Dimes and waited on Tiger to show, he finally put in an appearance after making me wait for thirty minutes. When he sat down, he ordered a drink from the topless waitress, and then turned to me.
"You got the information I asked for?" I asked.
"As promised, and it wasn't easy either. Let's just say this girl has made some friends that don't like her or her business being discussed. But as you know every man has a price." He said with a predatory smile that resembled a crocodile. I knew that was my queue, I slid a stack of hundreds under the table into his waiting hands. He continued.
"Your girl is in the Bahamas right now as we speak. I don't know how long she will be there but word is she is buying up enough ammo to start a war." He said as he took the drink from the waitress. I waited until she left before I questioned him.
"What island?"
"Nassau. She is staying at a resort called the Heaven on Earth Spa."
Tiger waved a twenty at a dancer at another table who was already giving a superb lap dance to another member.
"Is there anything else I should know?"
I pulled two twenties from my wallet and tossed them on the table.
"She might be on the move soon; she's looking for a boat that will smuggle her and her ammo into the states." Tiger said.
"Watch out for Martinez and Willoughby, they've been tailing you," I said, rising from my seat.
Tiger shrugged. "I rather it be them than somebody who actually knew how to do their job."
The dancer Tiger had signaled sauntered up to the table with a flirtatious smile. I licked my lips and gave her a longing look. Damn, no go! There was work that needed to be done.