Devilish Details (19 page)

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Authors: Lynn Emery

Tags: #louisiana author, #louisiana mystery, #female sleuth cozy mystery southern mystery murder

BOOK: Devilish Details
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“Me agreeing with you is not likely to
happen again before I retire, Mr. Phillips. Let’s go back into
session, five minutes.” The judge nodded to the court deputy, who
in turn directed everyone out of the office.

Ten minutes later the bail hearing was over.
Jazz, still wearing the street clothes Chyna had brought her, sat
with the rest of the female prisoners. At least she would be out of
lock up soon. Not that her troubles were anywhere close to being
over.

 

 

* * *

 

The next day, Jazz should have been sleeping
late in her own bed. Anyone else would have been too scared or too
worn out from nerves to do anything but hide. Jazz felt adrenaline
pumping, but the energy that kept her awake was determination to
get at the truth. When Willa called a meeting, Jazz didn’t argue.
She sat in Willa’s office watching her pace. MiMi held a sleeping
Sage in her lap. The baby was oblivious to the chaos swirling
around the adults in the room. MiMi wore an anxious expression. She
kept tapping one foot and rocking the baby.

“Put Sage in her carriage before you get her
upset,” Jazz said.

Without waiting for MiMi to act, Jazz rose
and gently took Sage from her. She eased her into the red and white
lace cushioned seat, MiMi’s sorority colors. Jazz needn’t have
worried about the baby. Sage continued to wear a blissful
expression. Her only reaction was a brief wiggle, a tiny yawn, and
then she grew still again.

“I can’t believe you signed this,” Willa
blurted out for the third time. She rattled the contract copy in
her hand.

“I haven’t lost Candy Girls or my apartment.
You can’t afford to write a check for $15,000 dollars,” Jazz
replied mildly. She brushed one of the baby’s down curls, and then
faced Willa. “You want a second mortgage?”

“Stop counting my money and let me handle my
own business,” Willa said with a scowl.

“I could say the same thing to you.” Jazz
heaved a sigh and sat down in a chair. “Look, I appreciate what
y’all tried to do. But Higgins looked over the clauses and
options.”

Willa grunted and sat on the edge of her
desk. “That sleaze ball Higgins.”

“Don’t knock my legal advisor,” Jazz said
with a crooked grin. Then she grew serious. “You don’t honestly
think I’m stupid, right? I know what the risks are with this deal.
But the city is trying to shut me down. I still owe seventy-five
thousand dollars mortgage for all the repairs I did to Candy Girls
and making my house livable. Damn Lorraine was a slob.”

“I see your point, Jazz, but still...” MiMi
tapped her foot nervously again. “I mean, somebody could end up
owning what you worked so hard to get. What do we know about this
Ames person and his company anyway?”

“I’ve got Cedric working on it,” Willa said.
“You may not be able to un-sign that contract, but we should get
every scrap of information we can on these people.”

“There is a clause that says his company
would have to hire me as manager at a minimum salary of fifty
thousand a year. Or didn’t you get that far?” Jazz raised an
eyebrow at her sister.

Willa nodded. “I read every word, every
punctuation mark. I know you didn’t shake your booty from the age
of seventeen to twenty-six so you’d be working for someone
else.”

“I’m still young enough to start from the
ground up if I have to. But hell, who says I’ll have to?

“Well, you’ll need something to live on for
the next few months. Maybe you could work for me. Yeah, I have a
vacant position.” Willa perked up at the prospect to taking some
action to help Jazz.

“Hey, Jazz has style. We’ve got two
positions at the department store. Of course the pay is only twelve
dollars an hour, but you get employee discounts.” MiMi bobbed her
head with enthusiasm.

“The hell y’all talking about?” I can’t take
no part-time job. I’ve got a business to run.” Jazz waved a hand
brushing off their suggestions. “Besides, I’m not selling lipstick
all day or filing papers.”

“I know you’re not talking about opening
Candy Girls,” Willa sputtered. “Shush before you wake the baby,”
Jazz said.

“Sage sucked down a whole bottle of milk.
Once she’s fed, a tornado wouldn’t wake her up,” MiMi said with a
grin of affection at her offspring.

“You damn right I’m going back to running
Candy Girls. The city can’t stop me, not before the hearing. If I
want to hold onto my property, I need to show Ames I can bring in
cash. I’ve got customers who want to show up just to support me.”
Jazz smiled at Willa and MiMi. “That’s right. Some of them are
curious, too. Doesn’t matter. All money spends the same way.”

“Unbelievable.” Willa stared back at Jazz
shaking her head.

“Listen, his investor group says the
publicity has thrill seekers curious. I’m the underdog; a poor
young girl who goes from stripping to owning her own business. Just
as she’s trying to turn her life around, the system turns against
her.” Jazz spread her arms out dramatically, a solemn martyr-like
expression of sorrow on her face. Then she smiled. “You like it?
Higgins and Phillips came up with that spin. I say it’s fucking
brilliant.”

“Oh my God.” Willa massaged her temples.

“I told y’all not to curse in front of the
baby,” MiMi whispered for no reason. Then she grinned and stood
next to Jazz. “I have to agree. Brilliant.”

“You’re a murder suspect,” Willa spluttered.
“You can’t be selling liquor and having strippers in your
club.”

“Our legal system says I’m innocent until
proven guilty. They can’t yank my license for being accused of a
crime. Plus even if they tried, I’d still have the right to a
hearing. Higgins already checked.” Jazz brushed aside Willa’s
objection with a shrug. “Oh calm down.”

“They’re watching every move you make. One
fight, one drunk customer causing trouble, or getting behind the
wheel and you’ve given them ammunition. You need to keep a low
profile. I’m telling you, Jazz. Don’t open Candy Girls,” Willa
insisted.

“I’m
not
gonna be pushed around.
Lorraine is behind them trying to take my place. We both know
closing is what she wants. She ain’t gonna beat me at this game.
No.” Jazz stabbed a forefinger at Willa as if she was talking to
Lorraine.

“I see Willa’s point, Jazz. This is a bold
move for sure, but you’re open to a set up,” MiMi put in. She
chewed off the soft pink lipstick she wore. “Maybe you
should...”

“I’ve already passed out flyers for Friday
night. Two days from now, Candy Girls is going to have a DJ rockin’
the house,” Jazz broke in.

“The police are watching,” Willa said.

“Which means Cleavon or Lorraine won’t make
a move on me. Being under surveillance has its advantages.” Jazz
smiled when both women blinked as her logic sank in.

Willa’s smooth brown face became pinched
with concern. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I got this,” Jazz replied with more bravado
than she felt.

 

 

 

Chapter 11

 

 

Friday night Candy Girls did indeed rock.
The boom from powerful speakers caused the walls to vibrate. Lilly
and Chyna took turns dancing for the customers. For once there were
as many females as males packed in the club section. Rochelle was
kept busy cooking as the small dining area hummed with people
eating nachos, chicken wings, fried catfish, and onion rings. One
of Chyna’s younger brothers had been hired to help out in the
kitchen. Between the two of them, food orders were being served
with precision.

Tired from making the rounds to pump up the
crowd, by eleven that night, Jazz sat in her office. Byron knocked
and came in with an android tablet Jazz had given him. Music and
smoke blew in with him when the door opened. Both dissipated when
it closed with a thump.

“Had to make a run for more fish earlier
before the seafood store shut down. Rochelle said no way would our
regular supply last, not tonight. Crazy how many people crammed in
the place.”

“Yeah, about half of ‘em wanna be players
that think I’m a cold gangsta.” Jazz gave a hard laugh. “That’s the
streets for you. No wonder the good folks complaining.”

Byron handed Jazz the tablet. She clicked on
the app and approved the payment. The store would take a direct
deposit that night. Byron nodded and tapped the app again so that a
receipt would be e-mailed to JV Entertainment, LLC, Jazz’s company.
The LLC was another one of Godfrey Higgins’ ideas. Byron approved,
though he still didn’t like him. Once business was handled, Byron
took a seat. He watched jazz sip from a glass of brandy.

“I need to make some changes, Byron,” Jazz
said. “I know you and my sister think signing that contract was a
bad idea, but...” Her voice died away.

“Hey, I didn’t say it was outright a bad
idea. Just that it was a tricky situation,” Byron rumbled.

Jazz continued to gaze at the television
mounted on the wall of her office. A closed circuit camera showed
her the inside of the club from four angles. With the click of the
remote she could see the kitchen, parking lot, and the front of her
apartment out back. The new system was Byron’s idea. Jazz agreed.
They needed to ramp up security with Cleavon and his gang circling
like a pack of feral dogs. Jazz looked at but didn’t truly see the
action before her. Byron however studied the screen. Satisfied, he
settled in to wait for his boss to talk.

“I know, I know. The fine print can screw
you. But I was low on options. I paid attention, so don’t worry
about your job or anything.” Jazz transferred her gaze from the
television screen to Byron. The big guy had as much philosopher in
him as muscle. “I’m gonna do right by my employees.”

Byron gave a nod and stood. He put the
tablet on her desk. “I know. J I’ll be watching your back.” With
that he walked out. No sloppy sentiment, just fact.

“Thanks,” Jazz murmured with a smile as
tears wet her eyes. She swiped them away with a grunt. “No time to
get all stupid.”

The office door swung open without a knock.
Don stood looking at her. “Evening. Mind if I come in?”

“Uh, since you didn’t knock and you’re
halfway in anyway, come on. Drink?” Jazz held up the bottle of fine
brandy.

“No, officially on duty. You need to tell
them you have an alibi for the night Kyeisha was killed. I...”

“Close the damn door before half the block
hears all our business, Detective Addison,” Jazz cut in.

Don slammed the door hard. “I told Armand we
were together, and you told him I was lying for you.”

Jazz heaved a sighed. “Yeah, I sure as hell
did because--”

“What is wrong with you, huh? Jeez.” Don
walked in a circle. “You’re so hung up on doing it your way, some
female street version of the lone wolf. If you don’t want me
around, just say so. Fine. I’ll be on my way. But this going to
prison because you’re hard-headed is...” Don broke off as though
he’d run out of steam.

“What? Nuts, dumb? You don’t believe I’m
either one. What will happen if you play the damn hero?” Jazz gazed
at him. She stood when Don didn’t answer. “Hey, I’m talkin’ to
you.”

“Ah, to hell with it,” Don burst out. He
waved a hand at her and looked away.

“No, you came bustin’ up in my place with
your drama. So now you’re gonna listen to me,” she shouted back,
pointing a finger at him.

Jazz breathed hard as she reigned in her own
hot temper. Then she studied him again. His tormented expression
was all for her. Few people had stood for her like he was trying to
do. No men in her life. Well, except for Willa’s father. Papa Elton
made attempts over the years and Jazz always pushed him away.

“My bosses might throw some crap around
about poor judgment, but I’m not dumping twelve years as a cop. But
I will if it comes down to it. You can’t go to prison for a murder
you didn’t do.” Don grimaced. “Life without parole.”

Jazz walked over to him and wrapped her arms
around his solid chest. The top of her head brushed the bottom of
his chin. She breathed in the smell of his clean cotton shirt.
Tension left his body as he hugged her back. They didn’t speak for
a long time.

“You smell like sandalwood with hints of
cedar,” Jazz murmured.

“So now you’re a cologne expert?” Don’s
voice was muffled as he pressed his face into her mass of hair.

“MiMi, the cosmetics and fine goods expert,
schooled me on the better things in life. She’s trying to make me
as bourgie as her and Willa,” Jazz joked. She let go, stepped back,
and looked up into his dark eyes. “You ready to listen now?”

Don pulled her to him again. He kissed her
long and hard, until both panted from the heat. Then he pushed her
away. “Now I’m ready.”

“Damn. I need to jump in a tub of ice to get
my thoughts together.” Jazz gulped in air to clear her head of
thoughts about what she wanted to do to him.

“I like throwing you off your game,” Don
quipped with a sexy grin. Then his smile faded. “We got real
trouble, girl.”

His reminder of what she was up against did
the trick. Jazz blinked back to the subject at hand, murder
charges. “Not we, me.”

“I’m in no matter what you say,” Don started
to go on, but stopped when Jazz stabbed a finger into his broad
chest.

“You’re supposed to listen,” Jazz snapped.
When he stayed quiet, Jazz sighed. “Miller did what I thought he’d
do if you tried to alibi me. He didn’t believe a word, which was
perfect. I don’t want you involved.”

“Jazz, you’re not being...”

“Listen,” Jazz yelled, stomping a foot.

Don raised both hands. “Okay, okay. Shutting
up.”


Thank you
. So I’m guessing Miller
hasn’t told anyone else on the job what you told him, definitely
not your boss.” Jazz tilted her head to one side as she gazed at
him.

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