Private Deceptions (7 page)

"No. She’s just somebody I met on a case."

"A woman. Is she pretty, Nick?"

"Not as pretty as you."

"Then I know you don’t look at her the way you look at me."

"How do I look at you?"

"Like you want me."

"Do I really? And what if I do?"

"If you do, then that would give us something to talk about," Mrs. Childers said softly. She was seducing me with the sound of her voice and her eyes. "But not while you work for me. Isn’t there some type of ethical thing that says we shouldn’t become personally involved?"

"No, that’s doctor/patient confidentiality that you’re talking about. It’s almost required for you and me to become personally involved."

"Maybe, Nick. But not tonight. Besides, I’m ready to go."

"Where do you want to go?"

"It’s not where I want to go, it’s where I’m going. And that place is home."

I signaled for the bartender and paid the tab. We walked slowly to her car and talked. Talked about nothing really.

"Good night, Nick."

"Good night, Mrs. Childers." What else could I say?

Thoughts of that night haunt me like a bad dream that never goes away. I know I’ll never forget that night. Bobby with his gun in my mouth, screaming that he was gonna kill both me and Camille. It should have never happened. But I was gone, too far gone. Camille had me, and I couldn’t leave her alone. I knew when I met her that she was with Bobby, but it didn’t seem to matter to me. It definitely didn’t matter to her.

I had never met any woman like Camille. She was fascinating to be around and to talk to. And her voice, the way she spoke with that Barbados accent,
Shit!
It simply blew me away. Her dark complexion, her flawless body, and those dark eyes. The way she’d look at me when we’d make love. For too long after that, when I’d close my eyes, I’d see those eyes looking up at me.

It began the first time I saw her. I was with Black in his office at The Late Night when she came in with Bobby. Camille walked right up to me. "Bobby, introduce me to this handsome specimen of a man."

Bobby’s eyes narrowed when he looked at her. "That’s, Nick."

That look was my first warning, but I ignored it and each warning that would follow. Camille stepped closer, put her left hand on my chest and looked up at me. "That’s no way to introduce somebody, Bobby. My name is Camille Augustus. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and what is your name?"

"Nick Simmons." I answered, and quickly backed up off her. But she had me then and she knew it. Each time I saw her after that, Camille made that point clear.

When she’d call me, I’d come.

What she wanted, I got for her.

What she said, I did, without so much as a kiss.

I was riding with Black the night Camille decided she would have me. She paged me at 2:45 in the morning and I quickly called her back.

"Come see me. I want to talk. We never have enough time to just sit and have a chat."

"Now?"

"Of course, now. Now is when I want you." Camille hung up the phone and I turned to Black.

"Booty call," he said.

"No, just a chat."

"Yeah, right. Nobody calls at damn near three in the morning to just talk. Talk about fuckin’ maybe."

I don’t know if he knew where he was dropping me off and at the time, I didn’t care. I knocked on her door, but there was no answer. Maybe I had taken too long and she had fallen asleep. I waited awhile and knocked again. She opened the door dressed in a red gown and robe, which left nothing to the imagination. "Come in, Nick. I was beginning to think that you weren’t coming."

We talked and laughed until the sun was shinning brightly the next morning. I admired her beauty, the way her dark skin over powered the red of her gown. Camille commanded my attention in more ways than one. Then she touched my hand and drew me to her. I ran my hand across her shoulder. "Kiss me, Camille." She patted my hand and stood up. "Stand up, Nick." I complied. Camille looked up at me and undressed me without breaking eye contact.

I stood naked before her and she ran one hand across my chest while the other glided effortlessly along my length. She gently grabbed the back of my neck and drew our lips together, but only for a second. Camille eased me back down on the couch and ran her tongue over her lips. Then Camille introduced my length to her moistened lips. Her eyes still locked in mine. She slid her lips across what seemed to be every inch of it. Then she smiled and opened her mouth. It was soft and wet; if she had teeth I never knew it. She moved her head up and down in a very slow almost methodical motion. My excitement only intensified as I watched her, watching me. It was like slow motion, prolonging each stroke.

"Nick!" Wanda yelled.

"Huh?"

"Try to stay with me here. This is a little too important for you to be day dreaming."

"I’m sorry, Wanda, I was just thinking, that’s all."

"You were just telling me that you went to your office to meet Monika and Jett. And — "

The next morning I arrived at my office to find Monika waiting for me. She had followed Chilly, and I not only wanted, but needed to hear her report. On the way home the night before and on the way there that morning, I gave some serious thought to this thing I was developing for Mrs. Childers and my promise to leave other men’s women alone. No one really understood, and I never tried to explain it to anyone, except Monika. She understood. Over the years that promise has kept me from becoming seriously involved with many women. Seems like the women I take an interest in are all married, living with a man, got a man back home or whatever.

When I arrived at the office, Monika was there waiting.

"It’s about time you dragged your ass in here," Monika said.

"Report."

"Yes, Sir." Monika smiled and rolled her eyes. "I followed Chilly and wifey to
Aureole
, a restaurant on East 61 street. They met a man and a woman, both of Hispanic decent. The male was approximately five feet ten inches tall, dressed in a two-piece dark blue suit, light blue shirt, and enough jewelry to make you notice. The female, approximately five six, red dress, fuck me pumps. I got video and still pictures, they should be ready soon."

"Video?"

"Yes video. Jett gave me these photosensitive sunglasses with a micro-miniature camera. The images are recorded using a standard video recorder, or it can be fed into a video transmitter in a remote location."

"Have to start callin’ that boy Q."

"You keep givin’ him money, Mr. Bond, he keeps buying new shit. Anyway, I was able to drop a bug on the back of Chilly’s chair. There’s the transcript."

"Anything we want?"

"Maybe. Page five. I circled it."

"Hispanic male: I took care of mine, Chilly. What about yours? Chilly: Not yet, should be another day, maybe two. But I don’t see a problem here."

"It’s pretty thin, right?" Monika asked.

"You’re right. He may be talking about Jake, maybe not. There’s just not enough here."

"The rest of the conversation was just small talk."

"Okay. You stay on Chilly. See where that leads us. Anything on those files? You find out what that formula is for?"

"Nothing yet. I should hear back from my guy sometime today I hope."

"Let me know as soon as you hear from him."

"What about you? What did you do?"

"Talked to the sister, Chésará. Other than trying to flirt, I didn’t get anything we didn’t already know. You heard from Jett?"

"Said he’d be here early. He should be here soon."

Almost on cue, Jett came through the door.

"Morning, people."

"Report."

"I’m fine, Nick, and how about you, Monika?"

"I’m fine, Jett." Monika giggled.

"Report."

"Completed surveillance set up of the house. I was able to pick up cell phone frequencies for Chilly and two guy’s that appear to be his top lieutenants. I reviewed the tapes of the house. Noda. But that wasn’t the highlight of the evening. I copied and reviewed the videotapes we found in Jake’s safe. Bad boy, that one."

"Figures, watching other people fuck would be the highlight of the evening for a pervert like you," Monika said.

"That ain’t it. I think I found something interesting." Jett handed me two pictures.

"Damn, she got a big mouth. Is that what I think it is?" They were stills he had extracted from the videos. "What’s so interesting about this?" I asked, and handed the pictures to Monika.

"Look close. I don’t think that’s the same mystery woman from the first picture."

"I think he might be right, Nick. I think I saw a picture of this one too, but she had clothes on so I didn’t pay her much attention. And there was a picture with the two of them. Looked like it might have been taken at the same party as the picture you been showing of Jake."

"Where is it?"

"I put it back in the safe."

"Great. I’d rather not show this picture around."

"Guess you gotta go back and get the other pictures, Nick," Monika said. "Want me to go with you?"

"No, you stay with Chilly." I got up and started for the door.

"How are you and the Mrs. doin’?" Jett asked.

"There’s more to this than she’s tellin’ me."

"How do you know?"

"Just a feeling," I said, closing the door behind me.

I drove back to Jake’s apartment, let myself in, opened the safe, and got the pictures that I had come for.

"That’s strange."

I was on my way out the door when I thought about the fact that we never found any camera equipment in either of our searches. I went through the apartment again. Nothing. So I walked out of the apartment and two white men in suits met me.

Cops.

"Shit."

"Hold it right there, pal."

"Can I help you gentlemen?"

"Yeah. Assume the position. I’m sure it ain’t your first time."

I hit the wall with a little help from my new friends. One looked over my ID and the other looked at the pictures in my pocket. "You mind coming with us?"

"Am I under arrest?"

"No. We just want to ask you some questions."

"What type of questions?"

"We’ll talk about that when we get there."

So there I was sitting alone in the interrogation room, waiting. It had been more than an hour before the door opened and Detective Kirkland walked in with that shit-eating grin on his face.

"Nick Simmons. What’s it been, ten years?"

"Ten years, Kirk.

"Pat, this is one of Vicious Black’s old foot soldiers. But he dropped out of sight ten years ago."

"Where you been, Simmons?" Detective Richards asked.

"Army training, Sir."

"Oh. Another smart ass, huh."

"Yeah, yeah, Kirk. What’s this all about?"

"I just wanted to see you, Nick. It’s been a long time. So when I heard you were in here, I just had to stick my hand in. And what do I pull out? Do you know?"

"No. But I’m sure you’ll enlighten me."

"Tell me something, Nick, what were you doing when the detectives picked you up?"

"Visiting a friend."

"They tell me that you’re some type of private investigator. You working on something? Maybe something having to do with your friend?"

"Just visiting, Kirk."

"What’s your interest in those women in the picture the detectives took off you?"

"They were cute. I happen to like women."

"Why do you say, were?"

"Excuse me."

"I’m sorry. I forgot you went to Vicious Black University. I’ll break it down for you. Why are you referring to those women in the picture in past tense?"

"I didn’t mean anything by it. Why?"

Richards dropped the picture I took from Jake’s safe on the table in front of me. "What’s your interest in these two women?"

"Why?"

Richards drew back his hand to hit me, but Kirk grabbed him. Vintage good cop bad cop. Corny, but I played along. "What’s with him, Kirk? I just wanted to know why. Am I being changed with something having to do with those two women?"

"Nick, I know you know something you’re not telling me. I’m thinking that since you call yourself a private investigator, that you got a case and you’re trying to protect your client."

"So far your right."

"I thought as much." Kirk pulled out a chair and sat down next to me. "But here’s the problem with that, I know more about these two women than you do. So you need to know what I know."

"I’m still with you."

Kirk held out his hand and Richards handed him more pictures. He handed them to me. The same two women, but these weren’t taken at some party. These were taken at the morgue. "Both of them died of an overdose of cocaine."

"You think I had something to do with it?"

"No. But one of them had your friends card on her person at the time of her death."

"Were they found together?"

"I will only answer your questions if you answer mine," Kirk said.

"Fair enough."

"What is your interest in these women?"

"I’m trying to find a missing person and I have, or should I say
had
reason to believe that these women may be able to help me find him."

"Jake Rollins, he the one you’re looking for?"

"Were the two of them found together?"

"Answer his question!" Richards yelled.

"What’s with him, Kirk?"

Richards came at me again, but good cop held him back. "They were found about two weeks apart. Now, Jake Rollins, is he the one you’re looking for?"

"Yes."

"Who’s your client?" Richards asked.

"What’s your interest in two women that died of a cocaine overdose?"

Kirk smiled. "These weren’t your everyday overdoses."

"What do you mean?"

"Who’s your client?" Richards asked again.

"That comes under the heading of privileged information." This time Richards swung on me, so I put him on his back.

Kirk grabbed me.

"Get out of here, Richards!" He picked himself off the floor and left the room. Once he was gone Kirk smiled at me like a kid who knew a secret. "What makes these different is that they had all the symptoms of a cocaine overdose, but there wasn’t any trace of cocaine in their systems. And there are more just like them. We just found this one last night. Now, what do you know about that?"

"I don’t know anything about it, Kirk. I’m just looking for Rollins. I found that picture in his apartment, and I thought they might know where to find him. I don’t know anything about any cocaine." I knew from the start that this had a cocaine flavor to it and it wouldn’t be long before Kirk connected Jake to Mrs. Childers and then to Chilly. But now wasn’t the time for me to tell Kirk that. Right now, I had to get out of here and talk to Mrs. Childers.

"Okay, Nick, you’re free to go. But I need answers."

"Can I have my picture back?"

Mrs. Childers had the answers we both needed.