Black Widow (21 page)

After arriving at the jail, both Lootchee and Isis were surprised when the guard informed them that Phoebe wasn’t there and had been released a half hour ago.

“Then where is she?” Isis asked.

“Little lady,” the guard said, “I don’t keep up wit ’em after we release ’em. Got enough to babysit as it is.”

“She probably caught a cab to the airport or something, or is on foot somewhere. Since she hadn’t talked to you, she probably had no idea you were in town and on your way to get her,” Lootchee added.

Isis immediately tried to call her sister’s cell phone. She hoped the battery was still charged. The phone rang about six times and then she heard, “What up, sis?”

“Hey, sister, you okay?” Isis said, relieved.

“Yes, I am.” She sounded just as relieved. “Thanks for getting me out.”

“You know that’s what we do for each other. Where are you?”

“I just left from down there so I am up here taking care of a few things,” she said.

“Up where?” Isis asked again.

“I’m just trying to handle my business, that’s all.” Phoebe continued to be evasive, but the chiming of the grandfather clock in the background didn’t lie.

“Tell me you’re not at that monster’s house. Matter of fact, don’t even lie to me. I’m on my way to get you.”

“You in Texas?” Phoebe thought since the lawyer said that he was sent to get her out that Isis was still in Florida somewhere.

“Of course I’m in Texas. You called me to come get you, didn’t you? So, I’m coming to get your ass.” Isis turned to Lootchee. “Put this address into your navigational system.” She reached for her little mini notebook and handed it over to Lootchee. “We have to go get my sister.”

Lootchee followed orders. “No problem, Sweets.”

Phoebe asked, “Who are you with?”

“A friend of mine and we’ll be there in a few.”

“Good. I got time to get my stuff together; that’s what I came here for anyway.”

“Didn’t I tell you to leave that shit? That I would get you some new stuff?”

“Yeah, but I got some nice shit. I can’t leave with nothing.”

Isis couldn’t believe her ears. “Listen, you are leaving with your life and your freedom. It could be so much worse, but I am not trying to lecture you. I know how that shit feels. But anyway, I will be there in a few minutes.” She hung up the phone and breathed hard. “I can’t believe she done went back over to that nigga’s house.”

When Isis pulled up to Randy Vanz’s house, police were all over the property. As they got closer, Isis saw her sister being escorted to a police cruiser in handcuffs.

“You are having me locked up because I don’t want your steroid-taking, little dick behind anymore?” Phoebe screamed at Randy. “This is what you do to me because I won’t let you whip my ass?”

Isis got out of the car and ran over to the police car. “Please let me speak to my sister. I promise, I will only be a second.”

Seeing the desperation in Isis’s eyes, the officer agreed. “You got one minute, ma’am,” he told her.

“Thank you, officer,” Isis said anxiously, making her way to Phoebe. “What happened, Phoebe?”

“I only wanted to get my things and leave.” Phoebe had tears in her eyes. “And this motherfucker told me that I had to abide by his rules and be taught a lesson. I just said fuck the shit; left everything and went to the gate to wait on you. Next thing I know the police are arresting me for trespassing and some more shit he made up.”

“Time is up, ma’am,” the officer interrupted.

“Sister, don’t worry I will figure something out,” Isis assured her.

Isis wanted to talk with that no-good ass Randy, but with so much commotion, he managed to stay clear. She did get his number from Phoebe and she would try to call him later and convince him to put an end to this madness.

Once back in the car, Isis shared with Lootchee what Phoebe had told her.

“We gotta come up with something to stop his crazy ass,” Isis said.

Lootchee was already two steps ahead of her. “Sweets, I called the lawyer as soon as I saw your sister in the cuffs. He said it would be at least a day or two before he could do anything under the circumstances. He said it may prove to be to our advantage if I could talk to Mr. Vanz man-to-man about dropping the charges and letting bygones be bygones.

“That would be wonderful if you could make that happen.”

“I’ll do all I can do, and that’s a lot. But there isn’t much more we can do right now. So I suggest that we go to dinner; get a clear head and a full stomach to boot.”

“Thank you, Larry, that’ll be cool, but first I’m going to need to be dropped off at the hotel so I can change my clothes.”

“I don’t live too far from here,” Lootchee said. “I have an extra room. Actually, I have a guest house,” he bragged. “You could change there since we’ve got a reservation, and we’re pressed for time and your bags are still in the trunk.”

She hesitated, not wanting to give Lootchee the wrong impression nor put herself in a vulnerable situation. “I would much rather stay alone.”

Lootchee shrugged his shoulders, taking no offense. “Either way is cool with me. It’s just that I have more than enough room,” he said. “I tell you what. Being that we are so close to my house, you can go ahead and just change there, then after we eat, we can get you a room if that’s still what you want. How does that sound?”

Isis agreed to his terms and they were parked in his driveway within ten minutes. “You live
here
alone?” she asked after seeing the size of his home. Lootchee’s house resembled something off of MTV’s
Cribs.

“Well, my security guard, Max, stays here, but he really doesn’t count. My sister was house-sitting for me while I lived in South America. She’s supposed to be finding a place of her own, but she keeps telling me that it’s hard to live here and then turn around and go live in some apartment.”

“I know that’s right,” Isis agreed, still looking over the place, which looked like a palace fit for a king.

Lootchee offered to take Isis on the grand tour before getting changed, and she accepted. They were walking room to room when he said, “I must admit, I’d probably have a hard time staying in an apartment after living in this place too, but I told my sister, there isn’t anything like having your own. She’s cool though. She stays out of my way, and one of the good things is, that she keeps things going for me; it doesn’t matter if I’m here or away. I don’t know what I would do if anything ever happened to her. That’s why even though I’m back and she seems to be procrastinating about finding her own place, I don’t pressure her to move out.

“So, shall we head toward where you’ll be changing?” Once again Lootchee held his elbow up for Isis to latch onto as he led her toward the guest house.

He called the suite that she would be using to wash up and get dressed the master guest quarters. There was a sitting area toward the back of the bedroom that was set up like an entertainment room. The third adjoining room, which was much smaller than the other two, had a full-size refrigerator stocked with beer, juice, and sodas and a little cabinet with chips and snacks.

Lootchee left Isis to handle her business as he went to do the same. The only thing about the suite that wasn’t to her liking was the ceiling fan, which was set on high speed. It had been annoying her ever since she had gotten out of the shower. She had to get dressed in the sitting area to keep from getting goose bumps. For the life of her she couldn’t figure out how to cut it off.

It was almost like Lootchee could read her mind the way he appeared at the door, but like most men, he was late when he said, “Is it too cold in here? I can turn down the air.”

“No. But I wish you would’ve come and turned that ceiling fan off before I got wet. I hate those things blowing on me,” she said. “My husband and I used to debate all the time about whether to turn it on or leave it off. My husband loves it.”

“So do I,” Lootchee said, not really interested in hearing about her husband. Then he asked, “Do you mind if I share something with you?”

“No, I don’t mind at all.”

Lootchee cleared his throat and interlocked his fingers forming a steeple, then said, “You remind me a lot of my ex-girlfriend.”

“How so?” she asked, remembering the look in his eyes earlier when he was talking about her betrayal.

“She was from Virginia too. But not only that, she was so radiant, filled with energy and confidence just like you are.”

“Well, thank you. I guess I can take it as a compliment then,” she said with an unsure smile on her face. “But if she was so great, then why is she your ex?”

“It’s kinda complicated. I made a wrong assumption. I thought since I was down for her that she would be down for me, but she wasn’t. Instead, like I told you before, she took me for a lot of money, lied and betrayed me in the worst way.”

Isis’s heart went out to him. She knew exactly what it felt like to be betrayed and lied to. “I am so sorry that happened to you.”

“Don’t be. It only made a better man out of me for real. As a result, I traveled across South America, made some major contacts, and put together one of the best business situations I could ever be in.”

“You know what? I felt like that when I was with one of my ex’s. He did some pretty mean things to me, things that I don’t even care to elaborate on, but at the end of the day, I prevailed.”

“I feel you,” Lootchee said, “probably more than you will ever know.”

“For a long time,” she continued, “I thought that I had some kind of black cloud over my head when it came to men, but things have a way of working themselves out. There’s a reason for everything.”

“You are so right,” Lootchee said with a smile, thinking Isis was the match that he’d been waiting for. “I see so much of me in you. I think we should get to know each other better.”

“Lootchee, I speak for many women when I say that I think that you are a really great guy. You are a really good catch. You have class, style, and swagger that won’t quit. Plus, you’re business minded and seem to really be financially stable. You’re definitely a catch.”

“I’m not trying to be a catch for any ol’ woman. I want you. And make no mistake about it: I always gets
whatever
I wants.” He smiled, meaning every word.

“Lootchee, I am married, and I love my husband with all my heart.”

“But does he love you? If he does, how come he hasn’t called you all day?” Lootchee boldly asked. “If he was really concerned, he would’ve checked on you by now. Or even came with you, for that matter.”

Isis reluctantly told him her situation. “He’s locked up now.”

“And you still call him your husband?” Lootchee chuckled. “How much longer will he be gone?”

“I don’t know,” Isis said honestly, with some sadness in her voice. “And yes, I do still call him my husband. Prison can’t change that for me, only death can.”

Lootchee was willing to be number two for a moment, but only a moment. In his mind there was no way a man in prison could be any real competition to him. “Well, while he’s locked up, what if I’m just your friend on the side?”

Now it was Isis’s turn to change the subject. “Where did you book those reservations? I’m starving.”

Dinner was at a five-star restaurant, and Lootchee had everyone from the owner to the cook jumping through hoops for him. Isis knew that he was trying to impress her, much like he had been attempting to do all afternoon. And to be honest about it, the man was damn good at it. It cost a lot of money to be the king of Texas and Lootchee didn’t cut any corners.

Chapter 26

Nobody Likes the Rat

After wining and dining her, and extending an indefinite rain check on going out dancing, Lootchee took Isis to her hotel as promised. She decided to follow her first instincts and not give Lootchee the wrong idea by staying at his place. Because it was after midnight by the time they arrived at the hotel, he walked her in to be sure she was safe. At the check-in counter, the woman on duty informed Isis of a problem with her reservations.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Wiseman, but if you don’t check in or call the hotel by six
PM
, the reservations are considered void and will be charged to the credit card on which the room was reserved,” the clerk said.

“No problem,” Isis told the clerk as she whipped out her wallet. “I’ll just book another one now.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Wiseman, but there are no more rooms available. There is a NASCAR race this weekend and a church convention, and we are renovating our north tower. I’m so sorry, Mrs. Wiseman. Your room was booked at 6:05
PM.
Demand for rooms was just that great. Again, my sincere apologies that you weren’t informed about our policy.”

Although Isis was fit to be tied like a hog in Texas, this was the best news Lootchee had heard all day. “Excuse us,” he said to the clerk, then ushered Isis a few feet from the desk so that their conversation couldn’t be overheard. “Of course you know that my offer is still open.”

“That’s really sweet, and you have a wonderful home, but I wouldn’t feel comfortable there.”

“Why?” he asked. “Because you’re afraid that the more time we spend together the more time that gives us to bond and develop feelings for one another? If you are scared of falling for me, then say that you are scared.”

Isis decided that now was not the right time to set Lootchee straight, so she gave him a polite chuckle. “Since this is your town,
your kingdom,
it shouldn’t be hard for you to find me a hotel room. Can you do that for me?”

Lootchee tried to call in a few favors but came up empty. It seemed as if every single room in the city was booked. They even rode around to a few of the less-reputable motels because Isis was so insistent on not staying with him. It was beginning to look like an impossible mission when finally they spotted a sign that read:
VACANCIES: WE HAVE ROOMS W/ JACUZZI.

“Stop the car,” Isis said. “Let me try in there.”

“Are you serious?” Lootchee asked. “Is staying at my place so bad that you would rather stay here?”

“No. Not at all,” she assured him. “But my husband wouldn’t want me to stay in the house of a man I just met in a strange city, regardless of how nice you are and how innocent your intentions may or may not be.”

Lootchee reluctantly submitted. “I’ll do as you wish,” he said, not liking the idea at all.

When they got inside the hole in the wall of a hotel, a man with a turban greeted Isis. “May I help you?” he said with a heavy accent.

“Do you have any rooms available?” she asked.

“Ha long?” the man inquired. “Ha many hours?”

An insulted look crossed her face. That should have been her cue to walk out right then, but she didn’t. Instead she said, “I would like to have the room for a night.”

“Check out time ahhh-leven o’clock.”

“Okay, how much for the room?” she asked.

“Give me sixty dollars.”

Isis said that she would take the room, despite Lootchee’s protest. She sent him on his way, but before he left, she made him promise to be there first thing in the morning so that they could check on Phoebe’s case. He agreed and walked out of the hotel, sulking like a child who couldn’t have his way.

Room 403 wasn’t as bad as she expected it to be. As soon as she walked in, she could smell the lemon disinfectant that had been used to clean the room. The bed even had a couple of pieces of chocolate waiting for her on the pillow. The flowery carpet was a little worn down and the matching wallpaper was peeling a little bit from the bottom of the wall, but it would do for the night. It wasn’t as if she was trying to vacation there.

When she walked into the bathroom, she was pleasantly surprised, because the sign outside hadn’t lied. In the corner, there was a big round Jacuzzi that could fit four. Then she noticed that there weren’t any washcloths or towels hanging on the rack or on the shelf.

No problem
, she thought. She went back into the main room and picked up the telephone to call the front desk.

“Yah,” the same man who’d checked her in answered. “Front desk.”

“Yes, I’m sorry to bother you, but I need towels and washcloths.”

“No problem. Me get chu whateva chu need.”

She thanked the clerk and hung up. The towels and washcloths were delivered within five minutes. Not bad service for what appeared to be a one-star hotel. She went into the bathroom to wash up before lying down and getting some rest. Although the outside of the hotel looked kind of shabby, the rest of it seemed surprisingly clean. She couldn’t imagine Logic wanting his princess to have to lay her head in a place like this, but she couldn’t imagine him wanting her head to be lying on another man’s pillow either.

Isis peeled off her black spandex dress, which was embroidered with clear rhinestones, and her undergarments, and then slid in the shower. It was steaming hot just like she liked it, and the water sprayed from the head in firm pellets—just what she needed to relax. Soaping up three or four times, she enjoyed the exhilarating, refreshing blasts of the water for at least thirty minutes. Actually she had lost track of time. When her mind did come back to the present, she got out of the shower before her skin started shriveling up. The towel she patted herself down with was fluffy and had a nice scent, as if straight out of the dryer with a fabric-softener sheet. She used another towel to wipe the steam off the mirror and then removed her shower cap to examine her hair: Her free-flowing loose curls were all in place. She determined that they would hold for a couple more days before she would have to get her hair done again. All she wanted now was some rest and to wake up in the morning and hopefully scoop up her sister.

When she walked out of the bathroom, what she saw next caused a loud scream to escape from her lips. “Aaaaaaahh! What the hell?”

A supersized rat was staring at her, as if she was intruding on him. The good-for-nothing rodent was on its hind legs, sitting on her pillow. It was the biggest rat she had ever laid eyes on and was the size of that dog from those Taco Bell commercials. Isis was afraid of hamsters, so the rat had her freaked out big time. She jumped up in a chair that sat by an old dresser that had seen better days. Shaking and scared half to death, she was unsure of what to do. She knew one thing for sure, though: She was done with this fleabag hotel…and there went her damn chocolates!

At this point, Isis knew that she had no other choice but to take Lootchee up on his offer. Hopefully, she hadn’t offended him too badly by not accepting it in the first place. Still petrified and standing on the chair, Isis scanned the room for her cell phone.
Damn
, she thought after spotting it on the opposite end of the dresser. No way was she getting down from the chair. Thinking fast, she climbed up on the beat-up dresser and crawled the two feet she needed to go to get to her phone. Beside her phone was a drinking glass. She grabbed the glass and hurled it at the dog-rat. It scampered off the pillow and went under the bed.

Isis shuddered and climbed back over to the chair and stood on it to dial Lootchee. “My room is infested with rats!” she screamed into the phone as soon as he answered. “I hate fucking rats! I need you to come back and pick me up if the offer is still open.”

A grin spread across Lootchee’s lips, as if he had put the rat up to the act himself. “The offer is always open. I’ll be right there.” Isis could hear the smile in his voice.

“Lootchee,” Isis called out before he could hang up.

“What is it?” The smile turned into concern. “Are you okay?”

“Sure. I just wanted to say thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Lootchee said, but he thought,
You can thank me later.