Sweet 16 to Life (12 page)

I
spend the next four hours at home blowing up MJ's phone with texts and voice messages, but she doesn't answer a single one. I'm just about to call Lana when I hear a knock on the door.

“Damn it, MJ,” I say as I open the door, but it's Michelle, the last person I expected.

“Um, that's what the peephole is for,” Michelle says, just walking into my house uninvited.

“Excuse you? Didn't your mother teach you some manners?”

“I
had
to Bogart my way in. It's the only way I was ever getting inside this house. You weren't going to ever invite me, am I right?”

I scan the house looking for any signs that Lana is a cop instead of a paralegal. She never keeps anything in plain sight—no
Police Monthly
magazines or boxes of bullets or anything—but I'm always a little paranoid. With Lana at work, there's no chance of a gun or holster on the coffee table. So I relax a little.

“I thought you were pissed with me so I never expected you'd want an invitation.”

“I told you, girl, I'm over Donnell and I understand now that he was no good for me. Or for you. Especially for you.”

“Really?” I say, surprised to hear Michelle being so rational.

“But this morning when I came out to get the paper for Daddy, I noticed you talking to that dude, the one that was asking Cisco for directions the other night.”

Oh, so this visit is not social at all. Michelle is on a fact-finding mission.

“Yeah, so?”

“So I was wondering what you know about him. I mean, he can't be some random dude like I thought if Big Mama and them know him, and now you. Maybe he knows Cisco after all.”

“Well, I don't know anything about him.” At least not as much as I'd like to. And so far, I haven't connected him to Cisco other than that night he walked Lux to Center Street and gave him directions, which, after my conversation with Cisco, I'm guessing were directions for how to get the hell out of Cisco's territory.

“I guess I should ask MJ. She must know him if he's taking boxes into her house and—”

“You mean
out
of her house.”

“No, in. Well, I mean both. I saw him take a box into her house, and a few minutes later he came back out with a box. That's when I saw y'all talking.”

Okay, now I'm really confused. Why would Lux be moving the box back and forth? Did he need to add more DVDs from a stash in his trunk? But I got a peek into his trunk and there was nothing there; it was as clean and empty as any rental car trunk. And even if he did need to add something, why did he take the box with him when he left? Maybe I was right and he did suspect someone had been looking through them and decided MJ's basement was no longer a safe hiding place—for DVDs. I still have no theory on that.

I'm about to ask Michelle if Cisco has mentioned Lux since that night on her porch, but just then I get a text from MJ.

“Michelle, I gotta go, which means you gotta go.”

“But I want to find out about—”

“I know, and the minute I have anything juicy to tell you about Cisco I will,” I say, hustling Michelle out the door.

The last thing I need right now is Squeak chirping in my ear about Cisco. Once I see Michelle go back into her own house, I head for MJ's.

“Where've you been, MJ?” I ask once she lets me in. “I've been trying to find you all day.”

“I can see that,” she says, showing me her phone. “Eleven messages. What's got you so worked up?”

“Uh, maybe the fact that a scary dude is blackmailing you and now threatening me. Did you forget about all that since last night?”

“Threatening you?”

“Yeah, that's right. I was on my way to the bodega to find you when I catch Lux coming out of your house with the box.”

MJ's expression goes from worried to angry in about three seconds.

“Lux broke into my grandmother's house? I told you that's why the basement door was open last night—he'd been in here.”

I don't correct her—better Lux take the blame for that than me.

“I guess you were right. He was in here and took the box. Or brought it back and then took it out again.”

“What?”

I'm about to explain what Michelle saw when the doorbell rings. I follow MJ to the door, which she opens to find a uniform cop and some other guy.

“Malone, what are you doing here?” MJ says. Apparently she knows the other guy.

“MJ, the police need to check your house. They received a tip you may be in violation of your parole.”

Now I know who Malone is too—MJ's probation officer.

“You have a warrant?” I ask.

“Who is this?” Malone nods in my direction.

“My friend. Her mom—”

“Is a paralegal and I know you need a warrant for a search. An anonymous tip isn't enough for probable cause,” I say, interrupting MJ. I know they're cops and everything, but undercovers don't even tell other cops unless they have to. Plus, no need playing the Lana card just yet.

“MJ—glad to see you're hanging with a better class of friends, even better that they know your Fourth Amendment rights.”

“Yep, that's right,” I say, trying to sound threatening, but probably not succeeding. “All those lawyers I hang around have taught me a little something.”

“A
little
something being the operative word. They must not have told you neither a warrant nor probable cause is required for parolees,” Malone says as he pushes past us and into the house. “Besides, who said the tip was anonymous?”

MJ tries to follow the officer when he leaves the living room to do the search, but her PO tells us both to wait here. I notice the cop left the room like he was on a mission, like he knew exactly where to go. MJ must be thinking the same thing because she gives me a questioning look. When we hear the hinges to the basement door creak open, I give her one. And when the cop returns to the living room in just a few minutes, not enough time for even a trained officer to finish conducting a search in a house he's never been in, we know exactly who called in that tip. But seriously, how much of a parole violation could a box of DVDs be? Unless they're stolen.

Just then another uniform comes through the front door and Malone stands up.

“What the hell is going on?” MJ says.

“
Mary Jane Cooper,” the first officer says and I barely notice hearing MJ's full name for the first time because I know exactly what he's about to say next, especially when the second officer asks her to assume the position. “You're under arrest for felony possession of a controlled substance, possession of a firearms by a felon, and violation of parole.”

Now I know what was in the box Michelle saw Lux taking into the house.

N
ot that I had to remind her, but before they put MJ in the squad car, I yelled to her not to say anything to the police until I could get her a lawyer, call Big Mama, and find Lana. Now I'm sitting with Lana at her desk at the police station, Big Mama is driving home from Grand Junction, where she was doing some of her church missionary work, and the lawyer has just arrived.

Lana stands up to greet him, and they do the European cheek-kiss thing, which would seem weird for my mother, especially while she's on the job, but I suspect they once had a thing when she worked at his law firm as a paralegal. When I was arrested for some burglaries a few months ago, Lana had to get his help and blow her cover. When she left his firm, she'd told him she had found a better-paying paralegal job, not that she was enrolling in police school. Now three people in Denver outside the department know my mother's a cop: me, MJ, and this lawyer who we seem to be keeping busy lately.

“Mr. Chatman, MJ didn't do this. I know it for sure and—”

“Hi,Chanti,” he says, shaking my hand. “If you vouch for her, then I know she's innocent. But I'd better go talk to her first. I just wanted to let Lana know I was here. Does Mary Jane have any family here?”

“Don't call her Mary Jane. I don't think she'll like it much.”

I haven't confirmed this, and never thought to ask her what MJ stood for, but seeing how she's never told me, I'm going to assume she doesn't like it. Besides, her full name
sooo
doesn't fit her.

“She's eighteen. You can talk to her without guardian consent,” Lana says. “And believe me, this one knows her rights
and
her way around cops and lawyers.”

“We're her family,” I add, to soften Lana's totally unnecessary editorial on MJ's knowledge about the legal system. “At least until her grandmother gets here. She's three hours away, but she'll be here to post MJ's bail.”

When Mr. Chatman leaves to find MJ, Lana asks me why I'm so certain she's innocent.

“Lana, you don't think those were her drugs and weapons, do you?”

“No, but I want to know why you're so certain they aren't. I can tell it isn't just vouching for a friend. What have you been up to?”

“I know I promised no more investigating, but this thing with MJ just kind of happened and—”

“Chanti, what do you know?”

I tell her everything I know so far, starting with the house fire and my suspicion Lux set it, and ending with what I saw in the box the day before Lux switched out the DVDs for drugs and weapons.

“What I don't get is if he was worried about being outed on his secret stash of DVDs, why not just take them and run?” I ask Lana. “Why did he have to set up MJ? For that matter, why are DVDs so important he'd ask MJ to hide them without telling them what they were, and turn around and try to destroy them?”

“Maybe they were stolen master copies, or uncut versions not meant for public sale. Lux and Tragic did operate out of Los Angeles; they may have had contacts in the film business. He probably intended to bootleg them at first.”

“Bootleg DVDs aren't all that serious, are they?”

“Don't ever say that to the feds. That little FBI warning at the beginning of DVDs is no joke. We're talking millions of dollars in illegal business. When I was on assignment to the FBI, I learned they have a whole department just for cyber crimes. Bootleg DVDs keep them plenty busy.”

“Okay, so it's serious.”

“Maybe Lux didn't tell MJ what they were because he was afraid she'd steal them, make the bootlegs and sell them herself. If he's from her old gang, Lux knows a different MJ than the girl you and I know.”

“I can see that. But what about the rest?”

“He could have gotten angry that MJ was questioning him. Maybe you're right and even though you didn't notice any boobytraps, maybe he could tell someone—you—had been in the box.”

“What if MJ is in jail because of me?”

“If Lux is like every other con I know, taking MJ down was probably part of the plan all along, whether you opened that box or not.”

“Why do you say that?”

Lana leans back in her chair and starts staring at the ceiling like there must be hidden clues up there, so I know she's thinking through the clues we actually have.

“It may be big business, but there's more to this than bootleg DVDs. You haven't talked to MJ about what went down when Lux came to visit her last night?”

“No, we didn't get a chance before the cops came to her house.”

“She must know more about him than we think. She may not even be aware of it, but Lux wants to make sure she doesn't tell anyone what it is, or at the least, make her an unreliable witness. He either realized that last night and had to act, or he was planning it to go down this way all along.”

“The theory I was working on before she got arrested is that Lux was the one who narced on Tragic. You know, blame someone else for your crime and divert suspicion from yourself.”

“It's a good theory,” Lana says, then smiles. But the smile fades quickly. Poor Lana is always stuck between being proud to have a kid who is a good detective and being pissed off that I'm always sleuthing and getting into some kind of trouble.

I
sleep in Monday morning, even though Lana came in to tell me she was leaving for work. Here it is, the official start of Thanksgiving break, and I'm actually wishing I had a class to go to. At least then I'd have a distraction. So I decide to just stay in bed a few hours longer, delaying the start of everything I don't want to deal with. Even my new dress, hanging on the back of my bedroom door, bums me out. I was so happy when I picked it out, imagining what it would be like the night I'd wear it. It's been longer than a minute since I had a reason to smile, but I do when I see Marco's number come up on my phone.

“I didn't read anything about a mother/daughter showdown in the paper yesterday, but I still wanted to make sure things were good with you.”

“I'm fine . . . well, better than I was Saturday night. I'm really sorry—and a little embarrassed—about all that. I shouldn't have called out of the blue and dropped all my drama on you.”

“I'm glad you did. You can always call me.”

“I don't think your girlfriend would agree. Was she mad about you picking her up late for your date?”

“She knows you and I are friends. Friends help each other out sometimes, which is another reason I'm calling. I was thinking if you need cheering up, we could go to this Dashiell Hammett film festival playing downtown.”

“Who?”

“Dashiell Hammett. He wrote detective novels that were made into films back in the day when movies were still in black and white. You know—Sam Spade, Nick and Nora? I figured you might like the film festival since you like cop shows.”

“Not from the old days, I don't.”

“That's when the directors had to rely on the writing and actors—no special effects and CGI. It was all about building suspense.”

“I don't have anything against old movies. I've seen a bunch of them.”

“Oh yeah?”Marco says, getting way too excited. “Do you have a favorite director?”

“Okay, I've seen maybe three old movies. But I do have a favorite—
Roman Holiday
.”

“Is it a detective movie?”

“Some film buff you are. And not everything I like is about detective stuff.”

“So tell me why you like it.”

“This girl, she's a princess but not very happy about it so she escapes her fairy-tale life for a day. Because she spends it with the right guy, that ordinary day becomes the fairy tale. I don't know—kind of silly, right?”

“Seems perfect to me.”

I can't help but wish this conversation was happening in person because who knows what would happen next. We'd probably break our agreement, that's what would happen next.

“You make watching ancient movies sound tempting, but there's still the problem of you having a girlfriend. If I were Angelique, I might be okay with friends talking on the phone ”—
not
—“but seeing a movie is a whole different thing.”

“I told you, she knows how it is between us.”

“Does she know we sort of went out? Or definitely kissed once?”

Only the best kiss ever, although that's probably beside the point. When Marco doesn't say something right away, I take him off the hot seat.

“I can't make it anyway, as much as I'd like to. For you, I'd spend the whole day watching ancient movies, but I have some major stuff going on right now.”

“You always have major stuff going on.”

“I know. My crazy life, right? My mom isn't even the crazy-making part, at least not right now.”

“Well, the doctor is in.”

“I don't think you want to hear about this particular problem. It's the reason you'll probably be taking Angelique to the film festival instead of me.”

I immediately wish I hadn't said that. It sounds like I assume we'd be together if we didn't have to worry about me inadvertently getting his cousin deported and I know that isn't the only reason. Even if I had Marco, I'd still be worried about what I'm supposed to do with him.

“Probably not—she doesn't like any detective movies, ancient or new.”

“Your parents must love her,” I say, wishing I could take that back, too. Snarky always sounds bitter when it comes to broken relationships.

“Are you still trying to solve MJ's problems?”

“Busted.”

“Okay, but since we're on school break and I won't see you for a week, will you at least call or text me once in a while so I know you aren't in trouble?”

Before I hang up, I promise him I will, another addition to my growing list of promises I probably won't keep.

I'm standing next to Big Mama's car waiting for MJ to come outside. When I texted her that we needed to talk, this is where she told me to meet her at three o'clock. It's five after, feels like five degrees below freezing, and I'm cursing MJ for making me wait because I didn't wear my big coat. I'm about to go ring her doorbell when she finally emerges from her warm—make that sauna-like since her grandmother keeps it like Death Valley in there—house. I wouldn't mind being in Death Valley right now, at least long enough to warm up.

“You're late,” I greet her, “and why'd you make me wait out here, anyway?”

“I don't want to talk about all this Lux business in the house. Big Mama is hanging around all the time, scared to leave me alone and even more afraid for me to go out. But she let up when I told her I'm just getting something to eat with you. She thinks you're a good influence.”

Funny how perspective changes everything. Marco's mom wouldn't let us date because she thinks I might get his cousin kicked out of the country and Marco killed. Or at least turn him into a delinquent. Big Mama won't let MJ out of the house unless it's with me because she thinks I can improve the life of her granddaughter—an actual delinquent.

A few minutes later, we pull into Sonic and park at one of the eat-in-your car booths.

“Uh, MJ? Do you realize how cold it is out here? We need to go inside.”

“I don't want anyone hearing anything about Lux or Tragic or my case. You want to talk? We eat in the car. I'll keep it running.”

“That's dangerous, and they'll probably make you turn it off. Nobody wants to inhale gas fumes while they eat.”

“
I'm
dangerous, and I'll tell them to go to hell.”

“Yeah, that's just what you need—the Sonic people calling the police on you.”

I guess MJ is tired of arguing with me because she goes to the drive-through window and orders. After we get the food, she parks in the mall parking lot across the street and keeps the engine running.

“You happy now?” MJ asks, unwrapping her burger.

Her tone suggests she really doesn't care about my state of happiness. I know better than to say I'd be happier eating inside somewhere, so I just nod and draw on my chocolate shake. I know I've been complaining about the cold, but I can drink a chocolate shake in any weather conditions.

“Next time, feel free to come to my house. It's hovering-grandmother-free and it's warm.”

“I'm not talking in any cop's house, even your mother's. And I'm not talking at my house even when Big Mama is gone. Lux probably bugged it.”

“That seems unlikely.”

“You don't know everything, Chanti.”

“You're right, which is why we're here. I need you to tell me everything you know about Tragic's last arrest, the one that got him serious time.”

MJ looks straight ahead and I can tell she's thinking about whether to answer. She hates talking about anything from her old gang life, especially anything that might come back to bite her. Or kill her, when you consider she'll be narcing on gang members.

I try to coax her along. “I'm not asking for entertainment purposes. I think the reason Lux set you up, why he's afraid of you, has something to do with Tragic's arrest. I think Lux is the real snitch, but he told Tragic it was you.”

MJ looks at me like this idea had never occurred to her. “If you're right, Lux had better be scared of me.”

“Let's figure out if I'm right.”

“What do you need to know?” she asks before she polishes off the last bit of her second burger. MJ can go through a meal faster than any boy I know.

“Okay, so I know Tragic was thinking about starting a Down Homes operation in Denver and that he sent Lux here to scope it out, using Donnell as his Denver tour guide. Why Lux and not someone else from the gang? Was Lux his second man?”

“Hell, Lux ain't even a tenth man. Tragic sent him because Lux is from Denver originally. He did a year in JD when he was, like sixteen or seventeen. When he got out, he moved to L.A.”

“Ha, that's funny,” I say. “You and Lux did something like a juvenile delinquent exchange program—he went to California, you came to Denver.”

“Ain't nothing about this situation funny, Chanti. Anyway, Tragic was liking the Denver idea and sent Lux out to do some scouting.”

“What does a gang leader scout for? Number of available bad guys to recruit, potential customer base?” I say, hoping I don't sound amused because I sort of am. Not about MJ's situation because it's mad serious, but about how she makes the whole gang life sound like it's just another business, like a corporation or a sports team. Maybe it is.

“Something like that. He needed to know if there'd be competition from existing gangs, whether they'd be easy to take out or tough enough to leave alone. Will people in the neighborhoods he set up be able to afford his services? Can he use local distributors, should he relocate some of his own, or should he hire locals? Stuff like that.”

Wow, it really does sound like a startup business, except I'm guessing the local distributors MJ is talking about are drug dealers, though I don't interrupt her to ask.

“Lux met with some locals to set up a meet for Tragic. If things went okay, Tragic was hoping to make a sale.”

“Sell what?”

“I never knew that part, but whatever it was, only Tragic was there to sell it—to undercover cops, it turned out. At the last minute, Lux couldn't make it.”

So Tragic was based in L.A., but was arrested here. Good to know—maybe I can use my sources to get more information about his arrest.

“That's real convenient for Lux. My Lux-as-the-real-snitch theory is starting to look good, huh?”

“Naw, Lux had a good reason to bail on Tragic. He was in the hospital emergency room.”

“Did it have something to do with his left leg?” Lux could have been born with an odd gait, but I'm taking a guess.

“Yeah. How did you know?”

“I noticed he has a limp and favors his right side. So what happened—some kind of gangland turf war gone bad?”

“You watch too much TV, Chanti. Lux accidentally shot himself in the foot.”

I had figured dude wasn't that bright, but I underestimated him. Being in the emergency room with a bullet in your foot is a pretty good alibi. I'm about to ask MJ some more questions when she gets a text. She reads it, then bangs her fist against the steering wheel.

“What is it, MJ?”

“Lux says he just told Tragic I was the one who set him up. That fool is going to make me hurt him.”