Swerve Page 5

“I hear well.”

  “Shooting at The Spot. Did it fall on you?”

  “Hey!” he called out. “Anybody catch a whistle at The Spot?”

  Keliegh waited for his uncle to get an answer.

  “Nah, nobody here got nothing. Why?”

  “My partner—well, former partner, you know, I told you about her—Romia.” Keliegh opened his door of his apartment and stood in the threshold, but didn’t reach in to turn on the light. “Um, there was a little trouble…a little misunderstanding.”

  “Spit it out.”

  “She might be in some trouble. There was a shooting about three hours ago and, well, she didn’t wait for questions. Guy was supposed to be a cop.”

  “What the hell! She killed a fellow officer?”

  “Look, don’t get all crazy! She didn’t do it. I know she didn’t. I had never seen that guy before in my life. IA said he was a cop, though. I mean, who knows, right? Nobody knew the guy, right?”

  “You don’t know anything. And if she’s on the run for shooting a brother then she’s trouble. If we get this call and we find her, we ain’t gonna play nice with her. If she’s a sw—”

  “She’s not! God, I hate that word. She’s not crazy. It was an accident or something. I was there, but damned if I know what happened. One minute we were having a drink, the next she’s outside over a body and Hank and Aston got guns on her. She freaked—I would have too. I thought you guys were on it because somebody’s already been at her place. Did a bang up job.”

  “We wouldn’a got a search warrant that quick. Hell, three hours, we’d still be at the scene. You saying IA is already on it?”

  “Yeah, already hauled my ass in. You know anybody named Maxwell something?”

  “Maxwell something? Can you be a bit more vague for me here?”

  “Hell, maybe he was CIA, who knows?” Keliegh was digging for answers, hoping one would just fall into his lap by accident. Nothing. His uncle wasn’t being helpful at all.

  Stepping all the way into the dark foyer of his small duplex apartment, he pondered his next words. Just then, he thought he heard something coming from inside his apartment. Glancing at the officer in the car across the street sitting mindlessly, staring into space, he wondered if he had another stakeout cop in his apartment. “I have to call you back,” he said to his uncle, hanging up quickly. He closed the door and drew his weapon. “I’m armed, I’m a cop, and I’m gonna blow your head off if you think you’re in here robbing me. If you’re a cop and you’re here to babysit me, I’ll kick your ass,” he called, pointing the gun upward while sliding along the walls deeper into the dark apartment, until he was standing in the living room.

  “Keliegh,” Romia whispered.

  “Romee, how the hell did you get in here, they have my place surrounded—sort of,” Keliegh whispered back, startled to hear her voice. He was not sure where she was in the apartment until his gun left his hands from over his head. Turning around, he saw that she stood behind him. He could see the shadow of the revolver in her hand, but heard her locking the safety on it. He had to admit he felt a sense of relief. “Romee, give me the gun back.”

  “I wasn’t going to take it,” she said after a moment of hesitation. He felt his gun laid in his hand and her hand pause on top of it. The silence between them lasted a moment longer before she dropped silently to the floor. “Turn on the lights,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “What would you normally be doing? Walking around in the dark? No. You’d turn on the lights. Get a drink from the fridge or whatever you do, head to your room, maybe shower, I don’t know what you do, but do it. If it stays dark in here…”

  “Gotcha. I was talking to my uncle…” Thinking of the cops outside, he thought about what he would be doing if she weren’t there and quickly turned on the table lamp by the sofa and flopped on the sofa, clicking on the TV. “Okay, well, I’d unwind a bit in front of the TV,” he mumbled. “They’re looking all over for you. Why did you run?” he asked without looking at her.

  She lay on her stomach on the floor. “I don’t know, because it’s all too freaky. Something just freaked me out…that woman, Hank and Aston. My God, Aston was gonna shoot me,” she whispered excitedly, no doubt thinking of her colleague and someone she remotely called friend on occasion.

  “Did you know that guy was a cop?” Keliegh asked.

  Rolling on her back, she rested her arm over her eyes. She was fighting agitation, Keliegh could tell. “I’d never seen him before. Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.” Keliegh replied.

  “God…Well, what happened after I left?” she asked.

  “At the scene, this big guy shows up and says, ‘Okay, fellas, I’m with IA, get in the car.’ So we did. It was weird, but we went to this place and got questioned—I didn’t even get to go back to the station. Just told me I was suspended and that was that. Been trying to call the captain, but I can’t get through.”

  “I thought for sure you would be in jail right now.”

  “Me too. But no.”

  “Some big guy at the scene…That seems funny, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, sorta. He was some brotha I’d never heard of, Maxwell something. Have you ever heard of him?”

  “No, he must be new. But then again, I don’t keep up with IA.”

  “I feel ya, but anyway he interrogated us for hours on end…But wanna hear something weird? I mean, I get suspended and Tommy hasn’t even called me.”

  “You think she doesn’t know?”

  “How could she not know? I got suspended. It’s been, like, two hours and who knows about Aston and Hank. I mean, that place was crawling with cop cars within seconds after you left. They practically shut the place down. Cops I’d never seen before—everywhere. They just showed up and cleaned up.” Keliegh turned his head and looked at her. “It was like a movie…just weird. Oh, and I went by your place. It’s trashed.”

  “What? My place is trashed? What were they looking for?”

  Keliegh hesitated. He no longer cared about the losers out in the car stalking his house, the ones waiting to nab a good cop like Romia for something she didn’t do. He stood and headed to his bedroom, clicking on the small lap by his bed. He came back to the living room and shut off the light, but not the TV. “Come on,” he whispered, curling his finger for her to follow him into the dark hallway.

  After reaching the hallway that had no windows, Romia stood, patting her pockets in order to feel her one prized possession taken earlier from her apartment. Earlier, Romia had made it to her apartment and snagged the tapestry from the frame that hung on her wall. Her apartment had been intact when she arrived. Surely she’d been tailed closely, but not closely enough. She’d spent about four minutes at her place. She’d changed her high-heeled boots to running shoes, pulled her hair under a beanie, and layered a black bodysuit under some loose black sweats and a white wifebeater.

  The Shadow had inspired her outfit. She figured that if he could get into places covertly she’d better practice his technique, and so far it had worked. The dark clothing allowed her to pretty much just walk right past the officers staked out in the car, and on in through Keliegh’s bedroom window. She thought about the small hole she’d made to unlatch the lock so she could crawl through. Perhaps it was her adrenaline pumping, but her actions and abilities had stunned even her a little bit.

  “Somebody musta followed me to my place. I went there right after I left the streets. Tonight I had the weirdest experience.” She paused and then shook her head as if suddenly not wanting to share any more with him. “Oh, yeah, I broke your window,” she now confessed. Keliegh smiled sadly at her and, out of what seemed to be reflex, he stroked her cheek.

  She knew Keliegh wanted her to talk to him, but she knew that she wouldn’t. Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe it was because she didn’t have a clue what was going on either.

  “What did your uncle say?”

  Thinking of Lawrence Miller’s words, Ke
liegh decided not to share what he was told. “What we gonna do, Rome?” he asked, abbreviating her name.

  She shrugged, pulling off the beanie.

  “You gotta turn yourself in.”

  “No, Keliegh, not until I know what’s going on. Not until I find that woman and ask her why she lied. Not until—”

  “Romia, I want to know all that too, but—”

  Just then there was a knock at the door. Glancing at Romia standing in the windowless hallway now, wide-eyed and antsy, he held his hand up to assure her she would be safe. Dashing into the bathroom that too had no windows, he turned on the shower and pointed for her to go in, before quickly removing his shirt and heading to the door. Opening it, he saw Tommy standing there.

  “Tommy, it’s…” Keliegh looked at his watch.

  “Two o’clock, I know,” she said, brushing past him into the living room. “Hey, is your place being watched? What’s going on?”

  “Who called you?”

  “Hank. Said Romia went off—kicked Aston’s ass and tried to kill you and him both. Then she shot some guy. What’s going on? Romia shot somebody? He said she’s snapped—went nuts. Said she killed a cop?” Tommy looked around casually. He could see she noticed his revolver lying out in the open. That wasn’t like him to leave it out like that, especially with the chamber out. He knew it. She knew it.

  “She hasn’t snapped. Everybody is always saying stuff like that about her. She’s a little different but she’s not…snappable,” he said, hoping to keep his voice low enough for Tommy to hear but for Romia not to.

  “Then why you got a bodyguard all of a sudden?” Tommy asked, partially sounding tongue-in-cheek. “You know she’s gotta turn herself in. Hank said she’s on the lam.”

  Romia was viewed as a strange bird on the force. Her up-bringing in the foster home and “different” way of looking at life had her on the oddball list for sure. She was holistic and vegan. She only drank water, and although she carried a service revolver, she had never drawn it. Romia could kill in a matter of seconds with her bare hands in just one blow, and so had no need for a gun. She was pretty, wore high heels while on duty, and carried herself on the streets as if untouchable, yet mingling freely with the street life. Hardly ever smiling, no one could read her face and, therefore, she was a little intimidating and hated—maybe even feared. No one understood her except him, of that Keliegh was certain. He knew she had a soft side, a vulnerable side, and because of his feelings, he had decided a long time ago not to force it to the forefront. He never took their friendship any further than he felt the boundaries prevented. There were plenty of pigeons out there, there was no sense in trying to cage a—he thought about her helmet—a phoenix.

  Tommy continued to wander around the living room. She was observant, and he knew she saw more than he wanted her to. “So where is she?” Tommy asked. She could hear the water running—Keliegh noticed her eyes dart in that direction.

  “How would I know?” he asked coolly while sitting on the sofa.

  “Weren’t you about to shower?” she asked, noting his appearance and the sound of the wasting water. Tommy started for the hallway, and that’s when she noticed Romia’s black beanie on the floor.

  “What the hell is this?” Tommy asked, picking it up, examining the long black hair that she pulled for it. “She’s here!” Tommy started for the bathroom just as the water shut off.

  “Tommy, stop!” Keliegh yelped, but it was too late. The door burst open and Romia came out swinging. Tommy blocked her first punch but was nailed by the second, slamming into the wall.

  “Romia. No!” Tommy yelped, blocking the punches that came fast and furious. Tommy too had studied martial arts but was nowhere near Roma’s skills set, as Tommy was more into kickboxing.

  Suddenly, and with lightening speed, Romia had Tommy by the throat, pinned to the wall. Her hand rose, poised to strike a blow that could possibly kill. “Romia, no,” Tommy whispered, grimacing while closing one eye, as if readying herself. “I want to help you. Let’s go together…turn yourself in.”

  “I’m leaving, Tommy. I’m not turning myself in…not until I get some answers.” Romia’s words were final, ending with a blow that stunned Tommy, rendering her instantly unconscious. She dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

  Glancing once at Keliegh, who hesitated before stepping toward her, she grabbed her beanie while holding up her hand, indicating that he was in for a beat down too if he came any closer. Both of their eyes went to the crumbled heap of Tommy on the floor. “Tell her I’m sorry when she wakes up.”

  “You need some sleep.”

  “I may never sleep again, Keliegh,” Romia promised. She began to unbutton Tommy’s shirt.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Tommy just came in the front door and I’m leaving in her place. Don’t try to stop me. I want to find out who trashed my place, who killed that man—better yet, who was that man—and who is trying to frame me for his murder.”

  Romia slid quickly from her black hoodie, dropping it to the floor before wrestling Tommy from her blouse, the heavy Western jacket with fringes, and cowboy hat that she was known to wear often. “But one thing I’m not doing. I’m not getting in them boots,” she said after sliding into Tommy’s blouse and shrugging into Tommy’s jacket. Tucking the black hoodie into the pocket of the jacket, she pulled up her hair, fitted the hat square on her head, and headed to the door.

  Keliegh followed, opening the door for her as he would if she were Tommy leaving. Raising his hand for a high five, which was apparently his and Tommy’s common good-bye, he noticed the officer’s eyes shift in their direction. “He’s watching,” Keliegh admonished.

  “Good,” Romia mouthed, heading for Tommy’s car. Digging deep into the pocket, she luckily found Tommy’s car keys, and climbing in, she slid behind the wheel. She didn’t remove the hat, but drove right past the officer who simply waved in her direction. “Goombah,” she mumbled.

  Keliegh accepted that men—him included—just didn’t notice women that closely, and that clown in the car apparently was not able to tell in the dark one tall, slender woman from another.

  Walking back inside, he noticed Tommy sitting up in the hallway, holding the side of her head. She seemed discombobulated.

  “She’s gone. Thanks a lot, Tommy. Thanks a friggin’ lot. Now she doesn’t trust me. I could have maybe gotten her to turn herself in. This is going to be harder if she doesn’t turn herself in!” Keliegh threw up his hands in frustration. “Dammit!”

  “And, yeah, I’m okay too,” Tommy groaned, holding the side of her head where Romia’s blow had landed. “I probably have a damn concussion, but that’s okay…it’s okay. She got away, so it’s all okay.”

  “Oh, stop whining. You don’t have a concussion.”

  “And you care, I can tell,” Tommy went on, before Keliegh held out his hand to help her to her feet.

  “Oh, yeah, and you don’t have a car, either,” Keliegh added. “So you can’t go home tonight. I’m sure she’s at your place.”

  Looking down at herself, she noticed her camisole showing. “What the fu…?” Confusion covered her face. “Where is my jacket! And my hat! My blouse!”

  “Oh, and you don’t have any clothes, either,” Keliegh added, changing his tone to a more sheepish one.

  “Keliegh, damn! Well, if she isn’t a murderer, she sure as hell is a thief.”

  Chapter 10

  Trying not to fiddle with the keys too awfully much at Tommy’s front door, Romia slid quickly inside. Pulling Tommy’s hat and jacket off, she headed straight to the kitchen. Jerking open the fridge, she realized her hunger when spying Tommy’s array of assorted snacks. She pulled out the Chinese takeout container and gave it a sniff; the rankness wriggled her nostrils. The pizza box was filled with vileness too. Tossing it back in, she pulled out the bag of almonds. “Yeah, this’ll work.” Looking again through the veggie drawer, she found some barely alive carrots and a bag of l
eftover pre-washed salad. Quickly, she threw a naked salad together, sprinkling it with the almonds, and began to scarf it down. She was starving, but stopped eating after several mouthfuls. She knew she’d better eat light and get her body used to sporadic eating until she at least spent a day investigating this killing. She’d have to be light on her feet and ready for flight, or maybe even fight, at any given moment. Someone was framing her and she had to get to the bottom of it. She had to find out who this Shadow was, too; just the thought of him holding her helmet hostage chapped her hide. Digging in her bra, she pulled out the folded tapestry and opened it. “Yeah, he’s gotta be the first to go if anybody is going out in this game!”

  Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was four A.M. Surely Keliegh had kept Tommy at his place. Common sense would have told him to, right? He’d have to know, having Tommy there would buy her a few hours. If not, and Tommy showed up, then she’d have to do what she had to do. There was no way she was turning herself in right now…not without answers.

  Romia sat in Tommy’s large swivel recliner, her mind drifting to the previous night’s events. Everything was moving so fast. Internal Affairs was already on her tail. “Maxwell something. I’ll need to give him a call and start some negotiations,” Romia thought out loud as her mind lifted. “The Shadow. Who the heck is that guy?” she asked the air. “Why does he seem so familiar? I must know him. He seems to know me. He is the key to this whole thing. Who trashed my place? What did they want?” she asked, squiggling deeper into the large chair. Her eyes weighed a ton, and she knew if she closed them it was all over. She shook her head. “I should get some cold water,” she said, glancing over the back of the chair toward the kitchen—it seemed so far away. “I’ll get some in a minute.

  “Okay, why would that woman want to frame me? Who was the guy in the bar? Okay, so he was a cop…God, he was a cop?” Romia covered her face. A second later she was jerking her head awake. She’d been asleep for an hour. Jumping to her feet, she looked around for her hoodie that she’d tucked under the jacket and tossed to the side when she came into Tommy’s apartment. Sliding out of Tommy’s blouse, she folded it, laid it on the arm of the sofa, and slid into her own clothing.