“Doin’ what?”
“The way I get it, Chilly, is that Lawrence worked for you and he owed you money,” Kirkland said.
Detective Richards picked up the picture and left the table. He began walking around The Spot, showing the picture around.
“He was found dead in his home a few days ago. The house was torn up, like somebody was looking for something,” Kirk continued.
“So what are you saying, Kirk?”
“I haven’t done anything but state the facts in the case. I’m definitely not sayin’ that you had him killed. If I was sayin’ that, you’d have cuffs on. I just wanna know what you know.”
“Kirk, let’s stop this shit. You know who I am and you know what I do. Yeah, I know Bruce, and I told you from where I know him. You know that bitch nigga didn’t work for me. So, what we doing here?”
Kirk laughed. “Okay, Chilly, let’s cut the bullshit. I know the weasel didn’t work for you. Couldn’t. He just ain’t the type. But he was murdered along with his wife. Killers raped his wife before they killed her, and they raped a sixteen-year-old girl.
“I know rape ain’t your style, Chilly, so I don’t believe you’re involved. This Lawrence guy is more likely a user, so I’m thinking that maybe he owed one of your people. They went to collect, things got out of hand and shit happened. Like I said, I just wanna know what you know.”
Chilly sat back and looked at Derrick then back to Kirk. “I hear what you’re sayin’, Kirk.”
“I don’t think you do,” Kirk said, looking around the room to see where his partner was. “I don’t give a fuck if you animals kill each other off by the thousands. Shit, you muthafuckas can all line up against that wall right now and I’ll shoot you fucks myself. You’re all scum, selling death to your own people. You all need to die a slow and painful death, just like the one you’re dealin’ to them. So fuck you, fuck all of you to hell. But when you animals start raping little girls, see, that’s different. I want this guy, Chilly. Follow me now?”
“I think you made yourself clear, Kirk.” Chilly leaned toward him. “And whether you believe it or not, I think a line has been crossed too.”
“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.” Kirk stood up. “So understand this: if I don’t get this guy, and I mean get him soon, shit is gonna get real ugly for you.” Kirk walked away, collected Detective Richards and left The Spot.
As soon as the detectives were out the door, Chilly turned to Derrick. “First that asshole, now Kirk. Where the fuck is Rocky?” Derrick got up right away and came back quickly with Rocky. “Rock, did you send somebody to collect from Bruce?”
“Yeah,” Rocky said quietly.
“You’re tryin’ my fuckin’ patience, Rock. Who the fuck did you send?”
“I sent Miller.”
“Who?”
“Warren Miller. You know Warren. He’s the one they call the ugliest nigger in the world.”
Chilly laughed. “You sent that crazy-ass crackhead to collect my money?”
“He does good work.”
“Where’s the fuckin’ money then?”
“I haven’t heard from him, so I didn’t think he got it,” Rocky told Chilly.
“Well, that asshole y’all just carried out of here and fuckin’ Kirk being in here up in my face about it says that he did. Did you know that muthafucka raped a sixteen-year-old girl?”
“I didn’t know that.”
“So, you find this nigga and bring me his head.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
After a ride that felt longer than it really was, Travis parked his car in front of his house. By now, his face was throbbing and every bone in his body hurt. He opened the car door slowly and gingerly stepped out. After a quick scan of the block for Me’shelle’s car, Travis moved toward the house, holding his back and walking like Fred Sanford.
The house was in darkness when he entered. Having not seen her car, Travis assumed that Me’shelle had gone home. He made it to the bathroom and turned on the light. “Damn,” Travis said out loud when he saw his face.
“Oh my God.”
Travis turned quickly and saw that Me’shelle was standing behind him.
“What happened to you?”
“I went to see if I could find out what happened with your family. You’re looking at the answers I got.”
“You didn’t go by yourself, did you?”
Travis nodded.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m okay, but every bone in my body hurts.”
“And what is that smell?”
“After they kicked my ass, they threw me in a pile of garbage.”
Me’shelle went to the bathtub and turned on the water. “Come on. You need to soak for a while,” she said as she began to undress him. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. You didn’t ask me to go there and get my ass kicked. I did that all by myself.”
“I know, but you did it for me. And I did kind of hint at the fact that you knew people who probably knew who did it,” Me’shelle said.
Once she had gotten Travis out of his clothes, she helped him into the tub. She left him there to soak while she put his dirty clothes in the washing machine and got an ice pack for his face. When she returned to the bathroom, Me’shelle knelt down next to the tub and put the ice pack gently on Travis’s face. There was quite a bit of swelling around his left eye and jaw.
“Hold that,” she said, handing the ice pack to him.
She never intended for this to happen. Me’shelle looked at his face and felt terrible. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined that Travis would get right up and go after Chilly, and definitely not by himself. What if they had killed him? That would mean another death that Me’shelle would have on her conscience.
“I’m sorry, Travis.” She began to bathe him, but found that her clothes were getting too wet, so she stood up and took them off. She got into the tub and continued to wash away the smell of garbage from his body.
Now that he was feeling clean and somewhat refreshed, Travis stretched out across his bed to relax. Me’shelle lay down beside him, and before too long, they had drifted off to sleep. They had been asleep for about an hour when Travis heard the doorbell. He glanced at the clock next to the bed.
“Twelve forty-five. Who the fuck could this be?”
He got out of bed, put on his pants and got his gun. His movements woke Me’shelle. “Where are you going?”
“There’s somebody at the door,” Travis said.
“What’s the gun for?”
“Security.” He took off the safety and cocked it. “Stay here.”
As Travis left the room to answer the door, Me’shelle thought, maybe for the first time in her life, that she needed a gun. She had never held a gun in her hand, much less fired one. But suppose they come after me?Suppose it’s them at the door? Suppose they shoot Travis at the door and then come after me?What then? Travis should have left me a gun.
She got out of bed and got dressed, thinking that if she needed to run or fight somebody off it would be better to have clothes on. Once she was dressed, Me’shelle cracked the door so she could hear what was going on out there.
Travis looked out the peephole and saw a familiar but unexpected face at his door. He opened the door.
“What’s up, Freeze?”
“What’s up? You gonna invite me in or what?” Freeze asked.
“Come on in,” Travis said as he let him into the house. “Have a seat.”
“You alone?” Freeze asked.
“No. Me’shelle is in the back.”
Freeze didn’t bother to sit down. “What the fuck was you thinkin’ rollin’ up on Chilly like that?” he demanded to know.
“I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t thinkin’.”
“Yes, you were. You were thinkin’ like a bitch-ass sucker.”
“It was a stupid thing to do.”
“What did you think they were gonna do, pull out a chair for you, and y’all sit down like a bunch of fuckin’ gentlemen and discuss the situation? Do you think they were gonna just say yeah, we raped the girl and we’re gonna turn ourselves in to the police in the morning? Is that what you fuckin’ thought, Travis?”