More Money for Good Read online

  “So they beat his ass . . .”

  “Yeah, said they had planned to kill him.”

  “Bunch of fuckin’ crooks, man.”

  “That’s not it, West,” Rossi said.

  “What more could there be?”

  “Ganes was tightlipped about this. But he told me, he’s pretty sure he knows who has the missing two million dollars, along with who did the murder of our girl Amara.”

  Chapter 53

  Before Rossi could spit out anything else, Tavious rushed outside with Saadia in tow. His mother called to let him know the police were at her house and they wanted to speak with him immediately.

  “He should go with me,” Saadia recommended.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I let her know. I figured they would be coming to pay her a visit as well. I was somewhat sure Joyce didn’t show her any love when she was questioned by the police. But Tavious was his own man. I asked him what he thought about it.

  “He’s right,” he told Saadia.

  Saadia looked up at Tavious and wrapped her arm around him then looked at me. “Well, what is he going to do?”

  Tavious appeared like he wanted to run. “Fuck this, I gotta get out of here. I’m not going back to prison,” Tavious promised. He looked up and down the street, paranoid.

  I tried to put myself in his situation. I couldn’t decide if I would go into flight mode if I was wanted for questioning for murder if innocent. His past in prison was something I couldn’t even comprehend. The smell, the food, the treatment, the isolation was all too much to process.

  “Look, let’s just get in a car and get out of here.” They were in agreement. “Sorry, Saadia, this is a boys-only outing,” I had to let her know.

  Saadia shrieked, “What about me?”

  Tavious had to tell Saadia at least three times to go home. I went inside and let Lauren know we were on the move. She decided to call Rita and give a heads-up on Rossi. We all loaded up in Rossi’s car. I made my disdain known for having to drive his BMW while he sat on the passenger side trying to catch some shuteye. Tavious sat in the back and every time I glanced in the rearview mirror he had slid down an inch or two farther into the back seat, even though Rossi had triple black tint.

  Tavious hadn’t decided where he was going to lay his head for a few days so my first stop was to the apartment above the shop. I gave him three minutes to get everything he thought he would need. He was out in two. There was no sign of the police anywhere around the shop. All I noticed were three early-morning drop-offs sitting in the parking lot for service.

  We still had a few hours before the shop would open up for business and I passed at least ten Waffle House establishments before I finally settled on one so we could talk. It was on the interstate going south on the route to Macon. Rossi ordered an entire pot of coffee.

  “Okay, Rossi, are you ready to talk about the two million dollars?” I asked.

  Tavious glanced puzzled. “two million? What’re you talking about?”

  “Rossi told me he may have talked to a connection to your missing money. I didn’t want to tell you in front of Saadia.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you we can trust her?”

  “Don’t matter, we don’t,” Rossi pushed out.

  I watched Rossi pour some coffee. He placed a heap of sugar in his cup and put it down, nonstop. Then he refilled and took that one halfway. “Look, like I was telling you earlier, I shot two assholes last night.”

  “For what?” Tavious didn’t know and he was noticeably on edge knowing the police wanted to speak with him.

  Rossi put up his hand and waived his question off. “Don’t even matter anymore. I helped a guy out of a jam. He just happened to be one of the officers who busted up West’s place.”

  Tavious was very interested and took the pot of coffee and poured some into his cup: black no sugar.

  “Come to find out this guy is police in a special major crimes unit. The major of his unit—a hard-charging female, no-nonsense, fresh out of bubblegum type—all of a sudden put in papers for retirement.”

  “Shit, so what? People making moves every day,” Tavious said.

  “That’s the point,” Rossi said. “Seems to be, by all accounts, that his boss, this major, has only two years left for a full pension. So, who does that?”

  “So someone walking off in the sunset gives us a tip on the two mil?” Tavious tried to understand.

  “Yeah, when this major just summons a night shift into Amara’s house, stealth-like—and when they get there, she’s dead.”

  We watch Rossi refill his coffee and load it up again. This time he added cream.

  “So they are instructed to go through the house, remove any pictures with Amara and the major. Then this guy Ganes specifically is told where to find a duffle bag in the stairwell of the house. He was given specific instructions to meet the major the same night in the same parking lot where I see these two mopes knocking him around.”

  “Wait a minute—if the police found her body, why was it still there when I went to see Amara?”

  “They were told to leave the body, so they did. Ganes said he and the others figured their major was setting someone up. Look, man, these guys, this unit, did bogus raids, arrests, and drug rips. They are ruthless and don’t give a fuck who they do.”

  “They knew you were getting out, Tavious,” I let him know. “You were the only person to know about the money other than Amara. They wanted to silence you and have a reason to lock you back up.”

  Tavious thought for a moment and things clicked. “And Ely knew.”

  “And he’s dead,” I reminded him.

  “But how?”

  “Who knows?”

  “So now we know who has the money?” Tavious questioned.

  “Maybe,” Rossi confirmed, as he took in more coffee.

  Chapter 54

  It was clear to us that the major crimes unit and their fearless leader knew all about Tavious. They’d been trying to set him up all along. It felt good that we knew where all of this was coming from now. But it was very frustrating to know we were once again going to battle with some ruthless Atlanta police who were taking orders and carrying them out without any hesitation for a higher-ranking official who couldn’t care less about anything except getting paid.

  First things were first. Tavious needed to go underground and make himself ghost until we somehow cleared his name. Something inside of me wanted him to go to the police—maybe to someone Mrs. Bullock trusted. He could turn himself in and go face to face with anyone who had questions. But when I mentioned it he didn’t want any part of stepping back into any place that had bars attached.

  Tavious did agree that we should at least pull his Grand’s coattail. I couldn’t go another step further without letting Mrs. Bullock know what had transpired. When we got her on the phone it was no surprise that she already had some insight. She had talked with Joyce, who was hysterical and having a bad time coming to grips that Ely was dead. Mrs. Bullock told Tavious that his mother didn’t want to think he killed Ely. But she wanted Tavious to tell her so out of his own mouth. He did. Then Joyce told Tavious she stopped answering police questions when she realized that after the police from the APD found out Tavious had been on the property, they were coaxing Henry County police to claim it was Tavious who did the deed. Mrs. Bullock gave all the wisdom she had to Tavious. She let him know maybe the best thing for him to do was to turn himself in before they even got around to issuing a warrant for his arrest. But he wasn’t hearing it, even when I put my two cents in one last time to agree with her.

  Without any hesitation after agreeing with us that Tavious needed to lay low, Mrs. Bullock gave us a residential address in the city of Decatur. She asked us to take Tavious there because she said he would be safe.

  On the way out to Decatur there was not much to say. Almost felt like we were in a losing battle. One thing for sure, we were going up against authorities that required a clear
explanation and evidence for freedom. Tavious knew he had to leave this entire situation up to us if he ever was going to get up from underneath the smell of this bad situation. There was nothing he could do about it except stay out of the way and hope for the best.

  When we stopped at a red light, I heard the hammer on a pistol lock. I looked back at Tavious; he gazed into my eyes, nodding his head up and down. Then he put the piece back into his backpack. He told me Saadia gave it to him before she left. It was her protection when she went into the hood for a story. Now for the first time he was breaking the law. He had to know if he was caught with the piece it was another mandatory sentence. I wanted to remind him of the fact. But no doubt about it—he knew.

  We arrived at the address Mrs. Bullock gave to us. It was in a quiet neighborhood not far from Emory University. Rossi got out the car and knocked on the door of the flat-level, all-brick house. No answer. He put his hand down into the gold vase that sat on the right side of the door just like Mrs. Bullock instructed. The key was inside. He unlocked the door and waved us in. I waited for Tavious to go in; then I followed him a couple of minutes later just to be sure we wouldn’t call attention.

  I walked in and couldn’t help but notice how up to date the house was. It was very clean inside. There were two bedrooms and one bathroom, as it was an older house, but there was no doubt it would serve the purpose of keeping Tavious safe. While we all looked around Tavious took out a CD Saadia gave to him. He turned on the system sitting in the living room and the first song that blared through the speakers was “Strawberry Letter 23” by The Brothers Johnson. We all took just a few seconds and smiled. When Tavious opened the fridge and noticed it was stacked with food for at least two weeks it became obvious that Mrs. Bullock knew he would need someplace to stay. It sealed the deal when Tavious found the case of brews sitting on top of the fridge. All we had to do now was pay our new major friend a visit and get to the bottom of things, because there was one thing we all agreed upon: that soon enough the police would have an All Points Bulletin to bring Tavious in, or worse.

  Chapter 55

  About an hour after we left Tavious, Mrs. Bullock called to ensure things were okay. I found out the house was one of many rentals that she had. It would be almost impossible for anyone to connect it to her and Tavious. It was under her deceased husband’s name and a fifty-year-old LLC. I could feel the urgency in her voice.

  “West, you know time is our enemy now,” she started.

  I agreed and continued to listen into the phone.

  “I think it’s time for us to take advantage of this connection to the reporter of the AJC.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She has an audience, West. She has a column that is highly respected and we can use her notoriety to help us. Help us get the word out about these crooked cops and all their shenanigans. We don’t want her to use Tavious’s name in any of this. But we need her to draw attention to the police connections to these murders and Ely’s connection to the department by supplying them with those trained dogs. Maybe this will slow them down.”

  I fully understood what Mrs. Bullock was saying. The police were knee-deep in this for sure. If we could get Saadia to print such that would give us extra time to connect the dots to the murders. It would help with the perceived evidence the police had on Tavious.

  It was late, but we couldn’t wait until morning to call Saadia to get her on board with our plan. The way she felt about Tavious no doubt was going to work in our favor. I called Tavious to get her number and explain to her what we needed. He wanted to call Saadia himself. But Rossi didn’t think he should. Saadia was crafty. Their relationship was hot like fire. If Tavious heard her voice and they connected it would be the end of his secret hiding place. After going back and forth with Tavious he finally agreed.

  It was almost two in the morning when I dialed her number. The phone didn’t finish the first ring before she picked up.

  “Tavious?”

  “Saadia, it’s West.”

  “West? What’s wrong? Is Tavious okay?”

  “Yes, he’s fine.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s fine,” I repeated.

  After I was sure she knew I was not giving anything up on Tavious, I hit her up with our request. “Tavious needs a favor,” I told her.

  “Anything, what is it?”

  “The police are going to do him, Saadia. They are going to charge him with the murders of Ely and Amara and we’ve connected the police to the murders but can’t prove it.”

  “The police?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And I can help how?”

  “I have some information for you and we need you to print it in that newspaper of yours.”

  “And this information is concerning . . . ?”

  I wasn’t sure, but it seemed Saadia picked up a pen and a pad that reporters keep at the ready.

  “APD’s major crimes unit,” I told her.

  “Really now?”

  I was sure she sat up in the bed when she heard what I said.

  “A Major Curruth and her corrupt unit, you familiar?”

  Saadia was very receptive to the information I had for her. I relayed the info we had gotten through Rossi’s police informant. At the end of our conversation she was sure that she could do the article about the wrongdoings of the unit. She told me it would include Amara’s murder and the ransacking of her place, along with the possible connection to Ely and his K-9s he provided to the police department.

  At the end of the conversation Saadia wanted to meet the informant. Saadia said there was no way she could print so many damning allegations without sitting down and looking into the informant’s eyes herself. Secondhand from me was not good enough.

  Chapter 56

  I was able to get a few hours sleep after my phone conversation with Saadia. When I woke up Lauren wasn’t shy about making her feelings known. She knew that I was busy, but she missed me and wanted to spend some time together. I understood how she felt because we were so into our lives before Tavious and the two million along with the murders. I declared to my sweetheart that I missed her too. So much that I wanted to take her out.

  “We’re going to a funeral?” were her first words when I pulled up into the funeral parlor out in the Cascades. “West, you’re taking me to a freakin’ funeral as a date?” she shrieked.

  I hadn’t completely parked the car yet, but I still answered her. “Yes, babe, real quick though. I need to check something out. Won’t be but a minute.”

  “West, when you told me we were going out, I thought at the very least some Smokin’ Bones and a nice afternoon drink, then back home for some loving. But a freakin’ funeral? You are now on top of my hot-mess list.”

  “I couldn’t tell you, Lauren. If I did, you wouldn’t have come—am I right?”

  “Right. You know you’re right.”

  “And that’s why I didn’t. Please, just go in for a second and we’ll be out. We’ll go anyplace you want.”

  I had taken the keys out the ignition and looked at a few people walk inside the funeral home before Lauren even answered.

  “So, whose friggin’ funeral is this anyway?”

  “Ely’s,” I told her. “Poor bastard got beat to death in his own place of business. All those got-damn dogs he had and not one could save his ass. He was Tavious’s mother’s husband.”

  “Well, I tell you what, if you don’t take me out as soon as we leave this place, there is going to be another funeral. C’mon, let’s go.”

  I tried to kiss Lauren on the cheek but she pushed the car door open and was ready to get our visit over with. When we get inside there was no hiding the fact that the easily identifiable police were there, wearing out-of-style street clothing and checking out every last person who entered.

  Inside I see Joyce and Mrs. Bullock talking, while about twenty or so others stood chatting. I took Lauren by the hand to make our way over to the ladies and o
verheard two men speaking about all the dogs Ely was leaving behind. They were wondering if it would be a good time to approach Joyce about purchasing them.

  After I introduced Joyce to Lauren she and Mrs. Bullock thanked us for coming. I couldn’t believe that something so awful could have happened so quickly and without anyone noticing anything. I didn’t want to get Joyce’s hopes up too high and divulge any information that we were looking into. But I did need to find out from her if Ely had been in any kind of disagreement with anyone he was doing business with on the police force.

  “No, I’m not familiar with anyone from a major crimes unit,” Joyce said.

  I didn’t want to but I pushed her some more and asked her again.

  “Wait a minute,” she said. “One night, I remember Ely getting a call from the police, and they wanted him to bring out Max.”

  “Max?”

  “Yes, that’s one of Ely’s prime dogs. The police wanted Ely to bring her to some kind of raid or something and wanted the dog to sniff something out or something like that.”

  “So, they were looking for something?”

  “I can’t say, but I do know that he took the dog out and came back early in the morning.”

  Mrs. Bullock could tell Joyce was close to another breaking point. She asked Lauren if she would take her down to the first row to sit down and we watched them walk away.

  “Poor girl,” Mrs. Bullock said. “His death has her feeling like she’s lost her entire world.”

  “I’m sure she’s dealing with a lot,” I let her know.

  “West, I noticed all these police officers here, so I won’t say too much.”

  I just nodded my head and looked at a few of the officers who had made themselves at home. One in particular who was an uninvited guest to my home couldn’t keep his eyes off me.

  “Did everything work out with our friend?”

  I took Mrs. Bullock by the arm and began to walk with her down the aisle to her seat next to Joyce. “We’re going to sit down as soon as possible, and when that happens, I’ll let you know.”