Private Deceptions (25 page)

My cab pulled up in front of Black’s Paradise, in Freeport, on Grand Bahama Island. I paid the cab driver and tipped him nicely. I opened my suitcase and while the driver looked on in horror, I took my gun and extra clips out of the bag. I got out of the cab, put the gun in my waist and pulled my shirt down over it. I put the clips in my back pocket while I walked toward the door.

As I got closer I could hear the sound of reggae music. I’d reserved a room at The Bahama Princess Hotel, but I decided to come to the club first. I went inside and wandered around looking for Black. Not seeing him anywhere I stepped to the bar to get a drink and ask for him. A very pretty bartender came over to see what I was drinking. "What can I get for you?" the bartender asked.

"Johnnie Walker Black, straight up."

"Comin’ up," she replied as she poured my drink. "Can I get you a menu?"

"Yeah," I said. "I heard the food was great here." She handed me the menu and I glanced at it. "What do you recommend?"

"That depends, how hungry are you?"

"I haven’t eaten all day, unless you call peanuts on the plane coming down here eating."

"Then you definitely want to try our Bahamian Platter. It’s a taste of almost everything on the menu."

"Then that’s what I’m having."

The bartender walked away to give the kitchen my order, but returned quickly. "Just got in, huh?"

"Yes," I said, taking a sip of my drink. "Just got in from New York."

"Really, I’m from New York."

"Oh yeah," I said, thinking that it figured that Black would hire somebody from New York to handle his money. "What part?"

"The Bronx."

"I’m from The Bronx. In fact, I came here to surprise an old friend. I was hoping he’d be here."

"Really. What’s your friends name?"

"Mike Black, is he here?"

"Who are you?"

"I’m sorry, my name is Nick Simmons."

The bartender smiled, "Well, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I was beginning to think you were just a figment of everyone’s imagination."

"No, I’m for real," I paused. "You seem to have me at a disadvantage here. I mean, you seem to know me, but I haven’t had the pleasure of making your acquaintance," I said looking at the huge rock on her finger.
Why are all the really fine ones always married
?

"Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Shy, Mike Black is my husband," she said extending her hand.

Not only is she married, but she’s Black’s wife. When will I ever learn?
I shook her hand, "So, you’re the famous Shy." Shy shook her head and smiled. "Well it is truly a pleasure to finally met you, too. I’ve heard a lot about you, but I knew that you weren’t imaginary. It took a real woman to get Black out of New York," I said finishing my drink. Shy poured me another and left the bottle.

"It was Black’s idea to move down here. It seemed like a good idea at the time. You know, fun and sun everyday. But to be honest with you, Nick," Shy paused a second and looked around. "It’s boring as hell here."

I laughed. "Really?

"Yes, and its too hot all the time. Some day’s I feel like David Ruffin, singing
I Wish It Would Rain
. That is until it rains, I never knew it could rain so hard. And these women," Shy shook her head. "Let me stop."

"You just miss New York, that’s all."

"You ain’t told no lie there. But I guess you know that I’m a fugitive, so I can’t go back to the city."

"Wanda hasn’t been any help with that?" I asked.

"Not really. I mean, I give her credit, she did get the murder charges dropped, but she can’t seem to be able to make no headway on the conspiracy to distribute. Sometimes I think she’s glad I’m down here."

"Why do you think that?" I asked, thinking that she might be right.

"Come on, Nick, you’ve known her and Michael a lot longer than I have. Even though neither of them will say it and I’ve never asked either of them, I know at some point there was something goin’ on between them. I know that whatever it was is over for Michael, but I think Wanda still feelin’ it."

"You sound a little jealous. Are you?"

"No!" Shy said quickly and louder than she needed to. "Well, maybe just a little. But I’m not worried about her. I got more than enough woman to worry about on this boring ass island."

The cook brought my food, before I could ask her what she was so worried about. Shy introduced me to the cook and told him that this was one of Black’s best friends, "So the food better be good or he’ll fire you," Shy laughed, sending the cook about his business, with very worried look on his face. I tore into the food, like a man who hadn’t eaten in weeks.

"Michael said you could eat. I’ll let you eat in peace. I’ll be back when you’re done."

My mouth was too full to answer.

Once I finished eating, as promised, Shy returned and poured me another drink. "So, I take it that Black’s not here?"

"He’s in New York."

"New York? Can’t be, I just left there. Freeze dropped me off at Newark this morning. He can’t be in the city and Freeze not know it," I laughed, when I thought better of it.
Suppose Black told her he was goin’ to New York and went somewhere else?

"No, he’s there. Knowing those two, Freeze probably dropped you off at Newark and picked him up Kennedy. You know how secretive they are."

I laughed, but I knew she was right.

Shy looked at me and leaned against the bar. "So, Black says you two have friends since the first day you met."

"He said that?" I looked at Shy. Then it occurred to me that Black wouldn’t have his wife bartending. So I put his hand on I gun. "Is that what he told you?"

"Ain’t that what happened?"

"No, we had a fight the first day we met."

"I’m glad you said that, Nick cause I was gettin’ ready to shot your ass," Shy said and then showed me the pump she kept under the bar. She reached for a glass and a bottle of Bacardi.

"I still might shoot you. Who won?"

"Come on, Nick," Shy smiled at me while she poured her drink. "You know got your ass kicked."

I let go of my gun and laughed, "I’m glad you said that." Lifting my shirt to show her my gun. "So why does Black have
you
bartending?"

"It’s the managers day off. So I’m just filing in for the regular bartender. He should be here by now."

For the next hour, Shy waited on customers and she and I talked and got better aquatinted. We talked a little this and that, Shy told me how her and Black met, and about their adventure together. I talked about the old days running with Black, and about how I’d spent the last couple of weeks. And then the conversation turned. "Mind if I ask you a question?" Shy asked.

"Sure, go ahead."

"It’s personal."

"Ask me what you want to know," I said, curious about what Shy wanted to know.

Shy took a deep breath, "What happened between you and Bobby? I know there’s some drama with you two, but no one will ever say why."

"Did you ask Bobby?"

"No. Me and Bobby are cool, at least we are now, but I haven’t felt comfortable enough with him to ask."

"And you feel comfortable with me?"

"Yes, I do."

I looked at Shy. "I know what Black sees in you."

"What’s that?"

"It’s your eyes."

"You do know him." Shy leaned against the bar. "He said I have beautiful eyes, very expressive eyes."

"Your eyes say, it’s okay, Nick, you can tell me."

"Well?" Shy said.

She listened quietly while I told her the story. Once I finished, she said, "I understand why you’re havin’ such a hard time facing Bobby."

"You wanna share that wisdom with me?"

"You said it yourself. Betrayal. When you betrayed Bobby’s trust, you said you felt like you betrayed everybody."

"And?"

"That includes you. You betrayed yourself. And that’s what hurts you. So now that you know the whole story, you’re gonna have to forgive yourself for what happened. You were just a pawn in whatever game this woman was playing. Maybe when you forgive yourself, it will be easier for you to ask Bobby to forgive you."

I thought about what Shy said. "Maybe you’re right. I dishonored myself and then ran away, like a coward. I have to move past that. Make peace with Bobby and myself. Maybe then I won’t feel like such an outsider."

"That right," Shy said, and poured both of us another drink. "You know you have very trusting eyes, too. Or maybe its because I feel like an outsider sometimes, too, I don’t know. But I have to talk to somebody or I’ll go crazy." Shy took a sip of her drink. "Black’s not here because we had a fight last night. He left the house and I haven’t seen him since. He may be in New York or he may be right here on this island, I don’t know."

"What was the fight about?"

"You hit it dead center when you said I was bored. I miss New York and I want to go home. I really haven’t made any real friends down here," Shy leaned forward and whispered, "Probably because I can’t understand what they’re sayin’ half the time," Shy laughed. "And these woman, oh god, why they all gotta fall all over my man. And it’s not just these island bitches, the tourists are worst. Why do they have to have their half-naked asses, all up in his face, gigglin’ over every word he says, while I’m standin’ right there? I mean, Nick I try to rise above that, ’cause I know he really ain’t like that any more, but its hard. Bitches ain’t got no respect."

"Sometimes gettin’ bitches respect is over rated. As long as Black shows you respect, fuck them bitches. You’re his wife."

"I know that, Nick. And Michael shows me nothing but love and respect. And I love him so much for that. I know that’s just something I got to past. I guess I’m just a jealous woman and I’m tired of it, you know what I’m sayin’?" Shy poured herself another drink, and then she pushed the glass away. "But that’s not the real issue. That was just something I threw in to spice things up a little I guess," she laughed. "The fight was really about me wantin’ to go back to New York."

"But you can’t, because of the conspiracy charge," I said.

"He lost it when I told him that I would rather go home and do my time then say down here. I don’t want to be on the run for the rest of my life, Nick. I want to be free."

"I can understand that. I know what it’s like to carry around a burden. Sometimes you got to face it, not runaway from it," I said, knowing that I should take my own advice. Just then, I looked and saw somebody I thought I knew sitting at a table by the door. "Excuse me a minute Shy, I’ll be right back." I got up and walked over to him. "Roman, Roman Patterson?" I asked. The man didn’t answer at first. He looked at the door and then slowly at me.

"Nick Simmons?" he said quietly and looked back at the door. "What are you doin’ here?"

"I’m visiting some old friends." I started to sit down.

"Get away from me, Nick. I’m waiting for somebody," he said practically in a whisper.

"What?"

"I’m DEA, Nick. Get away from me," he said loud enough for me to hear him this time. I turned quickly and walked away, just as three men, one white and two Hispanic, entered the club and sat down at the table with Roman. I went back to the bar and sat down. Shy came over to me, "What was up with that? You didn’t know him?"

"He’s DEA." I saw the expression on Shy’s face. "Calm down, he’s not here for you."

We looked on as the four men talked and laughed like old friends, until one of the Hispanic men glanced at me. The man stood up, and looked directly at me, took out his gun and shot the DEA agent in the head. Customers began running out the back door, turning over tables in their wake, while others drove on the floor. He turned and fired on me.

"Get down!" I yelled at Shy.

Shy ducked down behind the bar, while I fired wildly and took cover behind a table. The other two men broke out semi automatic weapons and began firing at me. They had me pinned down as they moved toward the door.

Shy reached for the pump. "Finally a little excitement on this rock." She rose up, took aim, and fired at and dropped the Hispanic man with the semi. Shy took cover, as the remaining two began shooting at her. This time it was me that came up blastin’; hitting the other Hispanic man who shot the agent. He went down.

Shy stayed low as she moved toward the end of the bar. She stood up and fired the pump just as the white man run out the door. I came out from behind the table, as Shy moved toward the door. With her back turned, she didn’t see one of the men get up.

"Shy! Behind you!" I yelled and aimed my weapon. But it was too late. The man had grabbed Shy and pointed his gun to her head.

"Drop it!" he yelled. Shy threw away the pump. "You too, drop it!" he yelled at me.

"Let her go!" I said taking a step closer.

The man fired, barely missing Shy. "I’ll kill her!"

I knew I should shot the man in the head before he should get a shot off. And I was about to when the white guy burst though the door, firing that semi. It gave them enough time to get out the door. By the time I got outside, they were gone.