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“It’s not your fault, Simone. He shouldn’t have tried to manhandle you like that.” I reached in my purse and gave her the card of a bail bondsman. “But if you’re feeling that badly about him going to jail, here is the number for a bail bondsman. Let me know how much his bail is.” That was the very least I could do for her.
The next afternoon I made it a point to talk to Bella about the conversation she and Chante had the night before at the club. It must have been on her mind as well, because as soon as I sat down, Bella came to me with her concerns. “Chante doesn’t know what we do?” she asked that afternoon.
“No, what’s up?”
“Just curious, ’cause last night, she just seemed to be all up in my grill. I mean she was fishing for information; I didn’t say nothin’, thoug
h,” Bella had reported proudly.
“What exactly was she questioning you about?”
“Well, she wanted to know how we made money, what we did for a living, how we were able to buy such nice clothes and things like that.”
“And what did you say when she asked?” I had to handle Bella gently. I didn’t want her to think she’d done anything wrong.
She shrugged. “I just told her she needed to talk to you.”
“What did she say after that?”
Bella thought for a moment, smirked, then said, “You know, I don’t think she really said anything about it. But she wasn’t like salty or nothing like that. I just remember saying it to her; then I think you walked back up on us, so she dropped it.”
“I see,” I had said.
“Did I do good, Jada?” Bella asked, waiting for my approval.
“Yeah, Bella, you did just fine. You tell Chante, or anybody else with questions about our family, to come to me and I’ll handle them from there.”
Bella actually breathed a sigh of relief. The fact that she went at Bella was a bit troubling. I mean, Chante and I had spent a lot of time together and she had plenty of chances to ask whatever she wanted to ask. In fact, I’d been waiting for her to come at me with questions. I knew for sure I needed to check Chante out a little closer.
11
Chante
I woke up early that morning and got ready to go. When I started up my car, I sat there for what seemed like an eternity, thinking about what I was doing. “It’s just another job,” I told myself. “No different from any other. Then why am I making it so complicated?" I knew the answer and I was afraid of what I’d discovered about myself.
I know what they’re doing. They’re high-priced hookers, even though they are all so discreet about it. They were breaking the law and I had violated the rules and gotten personally involved.
The truth was I liked Jada; she was mad cool. Over the last few weeks I’d really gotten to like her and “the ladies,” as Jada called them. We were friends.
Jada rarely goes anywhere without calling me and inviting me to hang out with them. We have lunch and dinner together all the time in some of finest spots in town. We’ve gone to clubs, release parties, and we shop. Damn, Jada West is one shopping don’t-give-a-fuck-what-it-costs, I-just-know-it-fits-and-I-want-it woman.
Jada has a style about her that I liked, even envied. She always wore the finest clothes. She’s chauffeured around like a celebrity just about everywhere she goes. And I loved being a part of that lifestyle.
I put the car in drive and pulled off. While I drove, I thought about how I got into this in the first place. “Come on in and have a seat, Rachael,” Gineconna said to me as I came into his office.
First off, my name is not Chante. My name is Rachael Dawkins and I’m a cop. “Thank you, lieutenant,” I said and took a seat in front of his desk.
“How’s it feel to be back?”
“I was happy to be able to sleep in my own bed after seven months.” I had been on loan to the DEA, infiltrating a drug ring that was operating heavily on the East Coast.
“You’ll be glad to know that thanks to the work you did, three dozen arrests were made, as well as a substantial amount of drugs and money confiscated. Damn fine piece of work.”
“Thanks, lieu.”
“So, are you ready to be a cop again?” he asked, knowing that I had no say in the matter.
“No. I was hoping for a little time off. You know-an all-expense-paid trip to the Bahamas. At the DEA’s expense of course,” I replied, since I knew it wasn’t happening anyway.
