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I checked the peephole when I got to the front door to see the police standing there.Shit!I opened the door and one of them nodded. “Hello. Are you Milton Patterson, Junior?”
“Yes. How can I help you?”
“We’re investigating some claims against you from one of your neighbors. We wanted to know if you wouldn’t mind coming to the police station to answer a few questions.”
I knew I couldn’t refuse to go without looking suspicious or like I had something to hide, but I wouldn’t be going alone. I frowned at them and asked, “What type of claims?”
“We can discuss that at the police station if you don’t mind.”
I looked out toward their squad car and noticed that Ali’s car was parked across the street. They’d obviously arrived before he could leave. “I’m not sure why we can’t discuss it here, but I guess. Give me a minute to let my girlfriend know what’s going on and where I’m going.”
“Do you mind if we wait inside?”
“Yes, I do mind. Y’all can stay outside. Frankly, I don’t know y’all asses, and y’all can be just as crooked as anybody else. So I don’t wanna hear bullshit about y’all feeling threatened. Y’all are at my house. I’m the one feeling threatened.”
I closed and locked the door in their faces. Three muthafuckas roll up to my house and think they gon’ step foot in this bitch, they’re a got damn lie. I glanced over at Chelsea, and I could see the nerves crawling all over her by her demeanor. Tension had filled her body. Her shoulders were stiff, and her eyebrows were raised.
“Don’t worry, baby. Everything will be fine. I’m going to need you to follow us to the station so I’ll have a ride home. I’m gonna call my attorney to meet us there.”
“Okay. Let me get my shoes on.”
She took off to the bedroom. Manman was still at the apartment. She’d said that we needed our privacy, but I wasn’t comfortable with her staying there. We were in the process of looking for her another spot. I didn’t know why she thought we wouldn’t have privacy with as big as this house was.
By the time I grabbed my wallet and had called my attorney, Chelsea was descending the stairs. I handed her the keys and kissed her lips then walked her to the car through the back door. After helping her inside, I walked up the driveway to meet the officers up front. Ali was still parked across the street, watching and taking pictures of everything, I was sure.
“Thank you, sir. Please follow us,” one of the officers said.
Bitch ass cops.I couldn’t stand the fucking police. They always thought they were right about everything and took shit too far with their untrained asses. They didn’t even make enough money for all that bullshit. That was why it was so easy to bribe them. I was paying the few officers we had on payroll more than their police salaries.
After getting in the back of the cop car, I watched Chelsea pull out the driveway. She stayed on our tail. I could tell she would be a ride or die for real. While she looked nervous, she did exactly what I told her to do without question. I appreciated her for trusting me as much as she did.
Once we’d gotten to the station, I saw a couple of cops that I was familiar with and gave them a head nod. They led me to an interrogation room, like I didn’t know what the fuck it was, then left the room as if putting me on ice or some shit. I swore police were so damn predictable. I kept a poker face and waited for their return. I didn’t bother to even take out my cell phone.
When the door reopened, my attorney walked in with a detective right behind him. “Mr. Patterson, I must say, you calling an attorney for a couple of innocent questions looks suspicious.”
“Transporting me to the police station for a couple of innocent questions looks suspicious as hell too. I don’t trust you muthafuckas, nor do I respect people who don’t respect me or my time.”
He smirked as if he were amused. I didn’t know who the fuck he took me for, but I wasn’t a dummy by far. When I was locked up the last time, it was because of crooked officers and a crooked ass judge and DA. They’d all been bribed to pad my sentence. They’d sentenced me to seven years for some bullshit that should have been a year max.
“Well, we’ve received complaints, stating that you are selling and distributing illegal substances and that you are directly responsible for the death of Roulette Phillips.”
I sat there and stared at him. He smiled and asked, “You have nothing to say about that?”
“You didn’t ask a question, Detective. What exactly do you want me to say?”
“I expected you to deny the claims.”
My attorney spoke up and said, “You are wasting time, Detective… mine and Mr. Patterson’s. If you have questions, ask them, or we will be leaving.”
He shifted in his seat, then asked, “What do you do for a living, Mr. Patterson?”
“I owned five businesses. I don’t work a traditional job because my father and brother were killed a little over ten years ago. I’m living off their insurance policies and investments.”
He nodded and jotted down a few things. He looked up again and asked, “Would you be willing to provide the names of those businesses?”
All of this was public record. They could have looked all this shit up without talking to me. They liked to act ignorant. Although sometimes they were, I knew they weren’t in this case. Glancing at my lawyer, I could see him nod. “I just sold In The Cut Barbershop. I have Patterson Tax Services, Spotless Shine Car Wash, Draped Up Dripped Out Urban Apparel, and Smoked Out Cigar Lounge.”
He wrote quickly as I talked, and my attorney asked, “Is that all?”
