Black 01 - Black Rain (16 page)

“I’ll do my best. I’ll contact you when we have the list of rogue cops.” I hang up and fill Vernon in on what’s about to happen as we get back in the car and continue our drive.

“So, does he know I’m with you?”

“No, Vernon, and let’s keep it that way.”

Vernon puts a crack in his window and takes a deep breath. “Do you think that Sweet St. Louis and Mo-Mo will get in tonight?”

“I’m sure they will. They haven’t let me down to this point. We’re supposed to be matched up with two FBI agents, Epiphany Duvall and Jason Phillips. They call him Little Tiny.”

Vernon becomes perturbed. “Aw, hell, no, Joe. You know how I feel about working with people I don’t know. Shit, they can get you killed. I’m already having doubts about your two ghetto friends from Topeka.

Them boys don’t seem to be wrapped too tight,” Vernon says as he looks in the sideview mirror.

“Relax, Vernon, it’s already done. Mo-Mo and Sweet St. Louis know what to do, and they can take very good care of themselves.”

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Vernon looks at me with a smirk. “Whatever!”

We drive through the city as dusk breaks into night and pull into the parking lot of the Marriott Hotel. Before we get inside, Vernon grabs me by the shoulder.

“Dude, I forgot those pimp-steak sandwiches in the car.”

I frown at Vernon as the young desk clerk listens in to our conversation wearing a plastic smile.

“Man, I thought you didn’t like those pimp-steak sandwiches.”

Vernon shrugs his shoulders at me like he doesn’t care either way. “Well, either I can leave them in your little sports car all night long and have it smelling like barbecue sauce in the morning, or I can go get them out so we can have something to eat while I’m whipping your ass at dominos,” Vernon says with a smile.

I turn to the cinnamon-brown-complexioned desk clerk with blond-auburn hair and a cute round face. She is so far into our conversation that her elbows are resting comfortably on the front counter.

I read her name tag, show her my FBI badge and identification.

“Ms. Valerie Wilson, could you please tell me what room we’ll be in? The room should be under the name of Royal James.”

She smiles as she reddens. I smile back at her.

“Yes, sir, let me check the computer registry. Yes, here it is. We have you in the Presidential Suite. The sofa in the living area folds out into a bed or I can put you in a smaller suite that has two beds in it.”

“That won’t be necessary, the Presidential Suite is fine,” I respond. I turn to Vernon.

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“Whoever wins the best three out of five games of dominos gets the bed, old man.”

Vernon just smiles and winks at me as I turn my attention back to Ms. Wilson. “What’s the suite number?”

“Eighteen-twelve and you’ll need to insert your room key in the elevator to get to the eighteenth floor. There’s a courtesy room on the twenty-first floor where you are welcome to complimentary cocktails, desserts and appetizers. It will be open until seven this evening.” She hands each of us a plastic key card. She asks, batting her eye lashes, “Will there be anything else?”

“No thanks, Ms. Wilson, you’ve been most helpful,”

Vernon responds, pushing me in the back of the head.

“I’ll meet you in the suite, and I’ll bring the luggage up with me.” Vernon takes the car keys off the counter.

“I need to stretch my legs, so I’m going to walk around the block and find some juice or sodas to wash down them sandwiches,” he says as he jiggles the keys in front of my face.

I start laughing as I grab the bags off the floor.

“That’s cool, bro, just don’t try to pick up any young ladies in my ride, fool. I don’t want Gertrude having to whip your old ass for trying to live a second childhood.”

Vernon gives me a dirty look. “Why you always hatin’, Joe? You’re worse than that prissy pimp friend of yours, Pretty Kevin. Always talking junk and can’t back up nothin’. I’ll see your punk ass in a minute,” Vernon says as he walks toward the exit.

“Aw, Vernon, man, don’t be so damn sensitive. I don’t hate, brother. Have a good time.”

“Whatever!” Vernon states as he gives me the finger, and leaves.

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A huge white bellman approaches. “Need some help with those bags, sir?”

I look at the biggest bellman I’ve ever seen in my life.

The guy stands six foot two and looks to weigh about three hundred pounds.

“I think I can handle it, partner. It’s only a couple of bags.”

The overweight, baby-faced bellman grabs the bags, startling me with his persistence.

“I insist. Let a dude do his job, sir. It’s been slow tonight and you never know when you might need your hands free, if you know what I mean.”

He nudges me in the arm with his elbow.

Oh, shoot, Little Tiny. I give in to his persistence and enter the elevator. He motions for the suite key and I give it to him. He inserts it into the card slot in the elevator.

“What floor?” He grunts between breaths.

“The eighteenth. You all right, dude?”

“Yeah, I’m cool,” he pats his bulging belly. “I was working out earlier and I’m waiting on them energy bars to kick in.”

We both laugh. He reaches out his large pawlike hand to shake my mine and formally introduces himself. “I’m Agent Jason Phillips. My friends call me Little Tiny.”

I look him up and down. Puzzled, I ask, “Okay, I give up. Why they call you Little Tiny?”

He looks at me, blushing, his pearly white teeth spread across his smile, amused as though he’s holding back laughter. “’Cause ain’t nothing on me small, so they have to say it twice!” We both start to laugh.

He wipes the tears of laughter from his eyes with the sleeve of his uniform jacket.

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“Seriously, Agent James sent me in to assist with getting Agent Chase from undercover and to help you in this task.” He nods his head toward the ceiling of the elevator.

“You don’t know it, but you have company in your suite.

Our objective is to gather information, Joe. That means you can’t kill anyone and we’re to let these guys get away.”

He frowns at me. “Agent James told me how people have a tendency to come up dead around you.”

I start to become irritated that Agent James would bring up incidents beyond my control. Yes, I’ve killed bad guys that tried to kill me, but I was cleared on all my shots and I’ve never been disciplined for anything on the force.

“Oh, and did he mention that I wasn’t the first one to fire a shot?”

Little Tiny shakes his head and his jowls flop back and forth. “Naw, he didn’t mention that. Just remember, I’m on your side and I don’t want to come up dead, all right? There are five of Cattanno’s men in the suite.”

I have to remember to express my concern with Agent James about bad-mouthing me. I’m a good cop and a great shot, if a person is trying to kill me, I’ll kill them first. It’s just good practice when you are trying to stay alive for your family.

“I’ll take two and you get the other three.”

I scratch my head and do the math. “Damn, Little Tiny. You big as hell and all you can take are two?”

He winks at me. “I told you I just got done working out, dude. Work with me. If I see you getting your ass kicked, I’ll pick up your slack. Damn, Agent James said you’d be difficult to work with.”

I bite my bottom lip; I am getting pissed at this point.

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“You know what? You and Agent James can kiss my black ass. I do my job and I do it well. That’s why he has me here on this case. And if you could ever get your lips off Agent James’s ass, you could see that, with your Tiny Tim whining ass.”

Little Tiny starts turning red, takes out his keys, inserts them in the elevator and pushes the stop button. His frown on his brow shows that I pushed the right buttons and got him mad. “My name is Little Tiny and not Tiny Tim. I don’t play the ukulele and I don’t sing.”

I step toward him to show that in spite of his size, he doesn’t scare me. “Well, stop all that whining like a little bitch and man-up. I didn’t come here for you to lecture me on how to do my job,” I explain.

“Man-up? Dude, you see all this three hundred and twenty pounds? I can whip your ass, eat a sandwich and have dessert all at the same time. Don’t underestimate me because of my size and my boyish looks. I kick plenty of ass. So, don’t get it twisted. I had to prove myself all the time at the academy and I don’t mind giving one more lesson, Detective.”

Little Tiny has taken a step toward me and is now up in my face. “Dude,” I say, “you need to save the tough-guy act for them guys upstairs and get this elevator started, ’cause I’m about two minutes off your ass. I don’t care about your size. I just need to know that you can handle your job. This situation is about saving Chase and right about now, you starting to impede on my time and completing this mission. So if you don’t mind, get the fuck out of my face, start this elevator and let’s get to the business at hand. You can play that gorilla shit on the guys up in the room, okay?”

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Little Tiny eyes me as he turns the key and the elevator continues toward the eighteenth floor. “Yeah, all right, but you better recognize, you just missed getting dusted, so thank God before you go to sleep. I was about to put this white thunder on your ass,” he says raising his two fists.

“Yeah, right, whatever. White thunder.” I roll my eyes.

The elevator stops on the eighteenth floor and Little Tiny grabs both bags. “After you, Mr. Tough Guy.”

I shake my head and begin to laugh at this comical giant. “Whatever!”

As we walk down the corridor and get closer to the door of suite 1812, Little Tiny sets the bags down and cracks his knuckles, and I stretch my neck from side to side.

He whispers, “You ready, man? Remember—don’t kill nobody, especially not me.”

“What if they’re trying to kill us?” I whisper back.

“They’re just sent to scare you and see what you’re made of. Nobody’s gonna need a body bag tonight. You just remember you got three and I got two. Just remember that, Joe. You’re no use to Dread if you’re dead.

Word is that he wants to recruit you to the bad side of the department.”

“Man, just open the damn door and let’s get this over with, ’cause you’re starting to get on my nerve with this I-got-two shit.”

“Now, don’t be getting all sentimental and emotional on me. Calm your ass down. We’re on the same team.

Me and the thunder got your back. Agent James said you were all touchy and stuff.”

“You and Agent James can go to hell. Just open the door, fool.”

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“Why I got to be a fool though, partna?” Little Tiny complains as he inserts the key in the door and opens it.

We each grab a bag and enter the dark room. I switch on the hallway light, and just as Little Tiny said, the men are in different parts of the suite. One is at the bar drinking out of a miniature bottle of Scotch, two stand in the living room, another is seated on the couch and one walks out of the bathroom zipping up his pants. Little Tiny and I are quickly surrounded.

My mind is moving fast and I think to try and buy some time until Vernon shows up to even the odds a little. I’m also hoping Mo-Mo and Sweet St. Louis will get here before anything gets physical.

“Oh, excuse us, we must have the wrong room,” I state, but me and my FBI friend are quickly accosted from both sides.

The biggest of the men, probably the leader, walks up to me. He is a muscular white guy and looks quite menacing. “Detective Johnson, why are you here?”

I try to remain calm and cool, sizing up this man in case I have to take him down.

“How do you know my name and who are you?”

Before I can get another word out, my interrogator slaps me across the face hard. I’m starting to get pissed.

I look at him with a serious gaze.

“Hey, there’s no need for that,” Little Tiny says.

“Let’s just all be cool. I can get some sandwiches on the house and have them sent up, and I’m sure we can work this room mix-up out like gentlemen.”

Little Tiny is quickly punched in the stomach, which doubles him over. “Dude, I just worked out. Damn, that hurt,” he says, grimacing in pain.

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“You fools need to start answering some questions,”

the big white guy orders.

I speak up to buy Little Tiny some time to recover.

“I’m here to hook up with some guy named Orlando Cattanno. I heard he has a way of making a cop some extra money. I love money and nice things, so I thought I’d come down and make his acquaintance.”

“Well, we heard you’ve come to take Dread down and that’s not likely to happen,” the muscle-bound man states as he takes brass knuckles out of his pocket and places them on his huge hand.

Little Tiny and I look at each other; neither one of us were expecting this.

“Aw, hell, naw, what you need them for? Dude, I don’t even know this cat. I was just bringing up his luggage. Man, y’all don’t even have to tip me or nothing.

I got a very short memory, and this ain’t none of my business anyway,” Little Tiny whines, looking at me and winking, then giving a sorrowful gaze for mercy at his assailant.

“Shut up, fool!” he barks at Little Tiny.

He turns his attention to me and my patience is getting very thin.

“Detective, you got one more chance to answer my question or I’m going to turn your face into hamburger,”

the big guy demands.

His henchmen grab me and my FBI friend and hold our hands behind our backs.

“Look, dude, I don’t want anybody to get hurt. I’m just looking to score a little cash on the down low and be on my way. You don’t need to be punching people around.

We know you a bad ass and all that. I have to tell you, if
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you hit me with them brass knuckles, I’m going to kick the shit out of you and you can believe that.”