No More Mr. Nice Guy (4 page)

I had walked up to the desk sergeant in the First Precinct and smiled like I'd won the lottery, not the least bit concerned about the decision I was making. “My name's Majestic Moss, and I hear there's a warrant out for my arrest.”

The man had to lift his head to get a good look at me, since I towered over him. “Majestic Moss. . . .” He looked back down and typed something into his computer. Whatever came up on the screen had him spooked, because he jumped up, whipped out his gun, and pointed it at me like I had just threatened him. Of course, his actions incited the other half dozen cops in the room to pull their weapons out and point them at Bruce and me. “Hold it right there. Don't you move a fucking muscle.”

“I wasn't planning on it,” I replied, raising my hands very carefully.

“What's going on?” one of the cops asked the desk sergeant.

“These guys are both wanted for murder. Slap some cuffs on them and get 'em in the back.”

I glanced over at my man Bruce, who was usually cool, calm, and collected under the worst circumstances. Even he looked like he was having doubts about my decision to turn ourselves in. Not that I could blame him. A half dozen guns pointed at your head will put doubt in anyone's mind, including mine.

Within seconds, Bruce and I were cuffed and escorted into the back of the precinct, where we were placed in separated interrogation rooms. I waited in that room for six hours before a salt-and-pepper-haired man in a cheap suit finally came in.

“Majestic Moss.” He gave me a self-satisfied smile as he took a seat in front of me.

“Detective Wright. Good to see you again.” I nodded my head in acknowledgment, sitting back in the small-ass chair they'd provided.

I'd known this fuck since I was a teenager, when he was a beat cop patrolling the streets of Wyandanch. He'd been trying to nail Bruce and me ever since we were kids slinging rocks for Mr. Magic and Bobby Dee. Now that we'd finally hit the big time and he was about to retire, he wanted our asses even more.

“Do you know how long we've been looking for you?”

He didn't sound pleased, and that made me laugh. The cops just didn't get it. This was my town. No way was I going to get found if I didn't want to.

“You must have not been looking very hard, Wright, because, as you can see, I'm a pretty big guy. I'm not hard to miss.”

He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Well, it doesn't really matter, does it? I'm going to be able to find you any time I want for the next twenty years.” He started laughing, as if he knew something I didn't.

Little did he know, the joke was on him.

“It's not every day a wanted felon turns himself in and saves us the trouble and manpower of finding him,”

“Well, I think the felon part is a little premature. I'm an innocent man until I'm proven guilty, remember? Why else would I turn myself in? I'm sure once my lawyer gets here, I'll be going home.”

He leaned back further in his chair, the smile still plastered on his face. “You ain't going anywhere. I got your ass dead to rights on two murders, and by the time my partner gets finished listening to Bruce sing in there, I'm sure we'll have you on multiple counts.”

“Really? And exactly what murders did I do?” I leaned forward and chuckled.

“More than I wanna think about, but we got you dead to rights on the Willie and Lamar Johnson murders. You and Bruce shot them in cold blood, right over there by the landfill in West Babylon.”

Damn, I thought, it was a good thing we hadn't left those bodies in that landfill.

“Hmmm, that doesn't ring a bell. I don't even know a Willie or Lamar Johnson, and neither does Bruce. Do you have a body or a murder weapon, or perhaps . . . an eye witness to collaborate this fabrication? 'Cause this sounds like a setup to me.” I tipped my chair back to lean against the wall.

“Oh, we've got a witness all right. We've got one hell of a witness.”

“You sure about that? When was the last time you spoke to that witness? Maybe they've recanted their story.”

Wright was not a stupid man. He read between the lines, and his eyes narrowed to angry slits as he glared at me. “Have you messed with my witness, you piece of shit?”

“I'm just saying you can't always rely on the word of a man like Lydell Washington.”

“You fuck!” He jumped up, his chair clattering to the floor. “I never mentioned Lydell Washington's name.”

“Oh, really?” I said with a smirk. “That's interesting. Maybe I was just thinking of all the piece-of-shit people who would lie on me. You do realize that Lydell's at the top of that list, don't you?”

Wright's face was bright red as he leaned over the table, looking ready to spit fire.

“Come on, Wright. Do it. Throw that pension of yours down the drain,” I taunted.

I was sure he wanted to smack the shit out of me, but he resisted when I gestured toward the camera in the upper corner of the room.

“Yeah, I didn't think so, 'cause if you touch me, I'll own Suffolk County literally and not just figuratively.”

He pointed a crooked finger at me. “This isn't over, Majestic. This isn't over by a long shot.”

As he turned to walk out of the room, I said, “It is if I say it is, detective.”

Niles and I walked into Sugar's, a small local bar and grill on the West Babylon side of Straight Path, after spending most of the day getting my sister out of police custody and into South Oaks Hospital in Amityville. Neither of us had eaten more than a candy bar, and I for one was starved, not to mention the fact that I could use a stiff drink after all that damn stress.

“What can I get for you gents?” the waitress, a short dark-skinned woman with huge tits, asked.

“Gimme a burger, fries, and a double shot of Henny on the rocks,” I replied, taking in the ample view. “Oh, and make sure they don't put no cheese on my burger. I'm lactose intolerant like a motherfucker. I'll be farting all night.”

Niles laughed. “Make that a burger and Heineken for me. I'll take cheese on mine.”

I gave him a pat on the shoulder. “It's good to have you back, nephew. From an ex-Marine, I just want you to know I'm proud of you. Your mama is too.”

“Thanks, Unc. If it wasn't for you coming home when you did, I wouldn't have been able to leave. I appreciate you taking care of Ma all these years.”

“Wasn't like I had a damn choice after they shot my leg up with friendly fire in the first Gulf War.” I'd been a Marine for almost ten years when a stupid sergeant used real ammo on a training exercise and shot me in the leg. They gave me a purple heart and an honorable discharge, but that was the end of my soldiering. Still, I guess my military service had made an impact on Niles. He swore that my being a soldier was half the reason he joined the Army.

“Besides, that's my big sister. She took care of me before you were even born. It was the least I could do.”

“Well, I appreciate it nonetheless,” he said.

The waitress placed our drinks in front of us. “Anything else I can get you gentlemen before I bring out your food?”

I wanted to say she could give me her phone number, but the way she was smiling in my nephew's face like he was Valentino or something, I knew I didn't have a chance, so I just picked up my drink and took a sip.

When the waitress walked away, I turned to Niles and asked, “So, what you gonna do now that this consulting thing done fell through?”

He shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. “I don't know. I saw a couple of billboards in the city for the NYPD. And one of the cops at the house said the Suffolk County Police are looking for minority recruits.”

“Shit, Suffolk County Police are always looking for minorities. That's why half of us are locked up,” I joked halfheartedly, sitting back in my seat. “I'll be honest with you, Niles. I never figured you for a cop, but it makes sense with all that military training you done got. Shit, you could probably be SWAT.”

“What?” He put down his drink and stared at me.

“If you're willing to be a cop, why'd you turn that job down with Dynamic Defense? Shit, two hundred grand a year is a lot of bread to walk away from. I mean, to be honest, all they're asking you to do is the same shit you was doing for Uncle Sam the past ten years, but they're willing to pay you handsomely to do it.”

“Yeah, but when I was in the Army, at least I could pretend I was doing it for my country. With these guys, who the fuck knows what their real agenda is? Look, Unc, I got no regrets about turning them down. Something just didn't feel right.”

“I hear ya,” I said, nodding my understanding even though I really didn't get it. That boy was walking away from a shitload of money. Money only a crazy man would walk away from.

“I will tell you one regret I have about not working with Dynamic Defense.”

“Oh, yeah? What's that?” I asked. The boy had a mysterious grin on his face all of a sudden.

“That woman Bridget. I wish I had gotten her phone number. Unc, she looked like something straight outta one of one of those women's magazines: professional yet sexy.”

“She was that fine, huh?” I tried to form an image in my mind.

“Mm-mm-mmmph. Was she.” He shook his head slowly. “I'm not in the habit of paying for pussy, but I'd pay to get some of that. Sex with her is probably a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

“Damn, what you trying to say? She got some bucket list pussy?”

“Something like that.” He raised his glass and I tapped mine against his, giving an informal toast to the bad-ass beauty of this woman Bridget.

The waitress brought our burgers over, and we dug in, not speaking again for a while as we filled our empty stomachs.

About halfway through the meal, Niles threw me a curve ball. “So, Unc, what happened to your cab?”

I should have figured he was gonna bring that up sooner or later. I exhaled loudly and dropped my head, not really wanting to discuss it. I'd bought a cab with money the government gave me for getting shot up. Made a pretty good living driving it, too, until I got two DUIs and they took my hack license and impounded the car.

When I admitted that to Niles, I could see he wanted to comment, but he held his tongue.

“I know it was stupid,” I said, “but dealing with your mother drove me to drink.”

Niles nodded his head. “Yeah, I can imagine. Taking care of Ma can be stressful. But, Unc, you gotta stop that binge drinking, man. You're gonna kill yourself.”

“Yeah, I know,” I replied then downed half my drink.

“Look, don't worry about money,” Niles said. “I got a little something stashed away. We'll be all right until I land something.”

I lifted my head, mustering up what little pride I had left. “Look, Niles, I don't want you spending your money on me. I don't need your charity. Shit, I'm a veteran. I got a pension, and I'll find myself another job soon. You can't be the only Monroe man who is employable.”

“I hear you, Unc.” He picked up his beer and clinked it against my drink. “Besides, what the hell are we talking about all this depressing shit for with all these fine women up in here? Five o'clock to your right.”

I followed his gaze over to three women who were turned away from us as they moved toward a booth. From my vantage point, I knew exactly which one of the three had caught his interest. I laughed, nudging him playfully.

“Damn, she's right up your alley, ain't she?”

The woman he was looking at turned toward us. She was a very pretty light-skinned woman with a small top and large, shapely hips. Niles had always been an ass man, and this woman had ass for days.

“Don't act like the one on her right isn't up yours,” he said.

I studied her friend a little closer. “Oh, yeah, she got some big-ass titties.”

Niles and the curvy sister locked eyes, and from that moment on, it was as if everything and everyone in the room went spinning and faded away. I swear to God he couldn't hear or see anything but her.

“Niles. You okay, man? Niles?”

He lifted his hand casually to silence me as she approached.

“Well, well, well. If it isn't Ms. Keisha Smalls.” Niles broke into a broad grin as she sashayed in front of us.

“Niles Monroe.” She had left barely an inch between them, both of them standing there grinning like two fools. “Aren't you a sight for sore eyes.”

“You're not so bad on the eyes yourself.” The poor boy was cheesing like a little kid.

“You two going to get a room? Because if not, I'd like you to introduce me to your pretty friend over there in the purple dress.” By now I was on my second drink, so if I said something stupid, I would blame it on the alcohol. “I'm Willie, by the way.” I offered her my hand, and she tore her attention away from Niles long enough to shake it.

“Keisha.” She smiled at me, but her thoughts were obviously still on Niles. “Sure I'll introduce you—if your friend buys me the drink he's been owing me for almost six years.”

I glanced at Niles, and he nodded. “Sure. We'll buy you ladies a couple of drinks.”

Keisha twisted around in the same spot, like a young girl standing nervously in front of her high school crush. “Then I'll go get my friends. I'll be right back.”

I nudged Niles as she walked back to talk to her friends. “Damn, she got one hell of a doo-doo maker on her, don't she?”

“Where the hell do you come up with this stuff?” Niles shook his head, but he couldn't help but chuckle.

“I don't know. I just say what's on my mind. The women seem to love it. They say it's refreshing.” I finished off what was left of my drink. “So what's her story? It's pretty obvious you got some kind of connection.”

“Who? Me and Keisha? Man, Nia introduced us a while back, and we should have got together, but either one or both of us was always getting into or out of a relationship.”

“Well, you obviously never forgot about her,” I said.

“Yeah, there was just something about her.”

“Yeah, she got a phat ass,” I joked.

“She's more than just a phat ass, Unc. It's very possible Keisha's the one that got away.”

“Well, don't let her get away tonight, 'cause I wanna get with her friend. You see the tits on that broad?”

Niles tapped my arm to shut me up as Keisha approached.

“Y'all want to join us?” she asked.

Before Niles could even settle the tab, I was already across the room, introducing myself to her friend. By the time he arrived at the table, I had settled between the two women, who were introduced to me as Tanya and Jasmine. They were Keisha's best friends, and she had dragged them out to celebrate—only they wouldn't tell me what they were celebrating.

“I'll tell you right now,” I said to the girls. “I like to drink and I like to laugh, so if y'all don't like to have fun, tell me now and I'll carry my ass.”

“Laughter is good,” Jasmine replied.

“But drinking is better,” Tanya added.

I thought Tanya was pretty from afar, but she looked even better close up.

Niles slid in next to Keisha. She leaned in closer and pressed her body against his side.

“So how are the Marines treating you?” she asked.

“It was the Army, and I'm done with all that. I'm home for good now,” Niles replied.

“Wow, that's great. So how's your sister Nia? I haven't seen her in a long time. I used to run into her, but then . . .”

“She got strung out,” Niles replied, and the poor girl just shut up abruptly.

“She was in pretty bad shape last time I saw her,” Keisha said sadly.

“She died of an overdose two years ago. I didn't get to make it back for the funeral. I was in Afghanistan,” Niles replied. “I didn't even find out until a month later.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” Keisha placed a hand on top of his in a move that was either comforting or flirting. I couldn't tell which.

The waitress walked by, and I stuck out my hand, smiling at Tanya the whole time. “You know what? I think it's a good time for us to order some drinks.”