Notorious

Book 2: Playing Dirty

by Kiki Swinson

Genres: Occult & Supernatural; Romance; Thrillers

Synopsis

Essence best-selling author Kiki Swinson pens addictive tales that sizzle with the passion and drama of her characters’ lives. A criminal lawyer working in Miami, Yoshi skips town when the pressure cooker of her job threatens to turn deadly. But after landing in Norfolk, Virginia, Yoshi quickly realizes she better watch her back when she witnesses a drug dealer committing murder.
“Kiki captures the heat of the streets.”—Wahida Clark, New York Times bestselling author

Release date: May 16, 2014

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 304

Sample

I can’t believe that just a week ago I was living in my man Lance’s beach house in Barbados. I had plenty of money to burn on whatever I wanted—jewelry, clothes, anything. That may sound like the good life, but it wasn’t. I was hiding out in Barbados, on the run from the Feds, the Miami-Dade police, and my client, Haitian mob boss Sheldon Chisholm. The Feds and police were trying to pin a whole bunch of shit on me, including the murder of my best friend, Maria, who was a DEA agent, and the murder of my housekeeper. And Sheldon wanted my head for promising him an acquittal and dropping the ball on his case. I’d been my firm’s most successful attorney, and I’d had dozens of police, court clerks, ADAs, judges, you name ’em, on my payroll, but someone got to them all, and my career took a serious hit.

When Lance got murdered outside a night club last week, I knew I couldn’t stay at his house in Barbados. I didn’t think his murder was random; I knew that whoever killed Maria and my housekeeper and got to the people on my payroll also killed Lance. That meant someone was on my trail.

Since the court had confiscated my passport, I used an illegal one to re-enter the US. My plan was to head to Virginia, where I had family, and lay low until I put together a plan to prove my innocence and get my old life back.

I’d crossed a lot of state lines to get to my father’s hometown in Virginia. During my travels, I picked up a newspaper in Texas that had my picture plastered across the cover. At that moment, my world stopped and I thought back on my life. Just a few months ago, I’d been a successful attorney in Miami with millionaire clients and an expensive appetite for the lavish lifestyle. I was at the top of the food chain. I was an unstoppable force with judges and DAs on my payroll. But then that all went up in smoke when I allowed greed and a cocaine addiction to take control of my life. Damn! I wished I could turn back the clock. But since I knew that was unrealistic, I folded the newspaper in half, stuffed it underneath my arm, and got the hell out of there really quick.

Instead of hopping on another flight, I rented a Toyota Highlander from Enterprise, stuffed all my things into the back of it, and drove the rest of the way to Virginia. It took me approximately twenty-two hours to get to my destination. Along the way, I prayed that my father’s people hadn’t heard about my brush with the law and the reward that they were offering. It had been a long time since we had been together, so I was like a stranger to them, which I’m sure would have made it easy for any one of them to turn me in. I knew what I had to do, and that was to keep my eyes and ears open. And the first time I sensed that something wasn’t right, I was going to haul ass without even looking back.

I was tired as hell when I finally arrived in Norfolk, so I stopped at the Marriott hotel downtown near Waterside Drive to get me some rest. It was around three in the afternoon, so I was able to wear my sunshades in front of the hotel clerk without looking suspicious. After I paid the man with cash, I headed up to my fifth floor room to unwind. I started to call my cousin Carmen right after I unpacked, but then I decided to wait until I got me a nap. So that’s what I did. But my rest didn’t last long. I got a call from the front desk asking me if I wanted concierge services, and after I told the woman on the other end that I wasn’t interested, I immediately hung up the phone. But for the life of me I could not go back to sleep. I looked at my watch and realized that it was a little after seven, so I got up from the bed and decided to make the call to my father’s family. The only number I had was the number to my father’s mother’s house. My grandmother has had that number for as long as I could remember, and it has never been disconnected. So, I figured that when I called her, I could get Carmen’s number and we could hook up.

The phone rang about four times before someone picked up. I hadn’t been in contact with my relatives in ages, so I didn’t know what anyone’s voice sounded like. I said hello and asked to speak with Mrs. Hattie.

“Can I ask who’s calling?” the woman asked.

“This is her granddaughter, Yoshi,” I replied.

“Wait a minute now. I know this ain’t my cousin Yoshi from New York.”

“Yes, I am the one,” I said, grinning.

“Oh, my God. I can’t believe it’s you.”

“Is this Carmen?”

“You damn right it’s Carmen. Who else would it be?”

I smiled. I’d almost forgotten how Carmen could be. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been doing okay. What about yourself?”

I couldn’t tell her the truth—that I was on the run. So I said, “Nothing has changed. I’m still a lawyer, winning case after case, trying to make a name for myself.”

“Wow! I remember when we were kids and we used to talk about how when we grew up we were going to be lawyers. But you were the only one who stuck with it. You must be living the life.”

“Trust me, Carmen, life as an attorney isn’t a bowl of fucking cherries. Girl, it’s a constant grind, doing a lot of research, staying on top of your paralegals to make sure they are doing their work, and then on top of that, you’ve got to make sure you keep away from psycho-ass clients. They will try to kill you.” I couldn’t help thinking back on the shit I went through in Miami with Haitian mob boss Sheldon Chisholm.

“Ahh, it couldn’t be that bad. Shit, I would love to have your life any day.”

“You can’t be doing that bad.”

“Yoshi, I am thirty plus, working as a fucking waitress at the IHOP on Twenty-first Street. I live with Grandma and I don’t have a car. Now tell me I am not in a fucked-up situation?”

Before I responded to her question, I thought about it and the answer was clear. She was in a fucked-up situation. Not as fucked-up as mine, but she was right behind me. I never would have pictured Carmen’s life to be like this. Before my father died, he and I used to visit his people during the summer. Back then, everyone thought Carmen was the smarter one. She was prettier, too. All the boys wanted her to be their girlfriend, and they never considered looking at me. I was an attractive little girl growing up, but the boys couldn’t get over the fact that my eyes were really chinky and I was bony as hell. Those little neighborhood bastards chose Carmen over me every single time because she had all the right curves and a really big butt. I wondered where those boys were now. Probably strung out on drugs, in jail on drug charges, or deployed over in Iraq, fighting a fucking war that Bush started. Whatever their status was right now, it sure wasn’t helping Carmen out, because the way she just laid out everything, shit was really messed up for her. I just hoped she didn’t try to come at me with her hands out because I was strapped. I only had enough money to last me until I could make my next power move.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’d help her as much as I could, but I would not purchase her a car, and I would not put her up in her own apartment, so she’d better not ask.

So instead of making any comments about her situation, I said, “You’re going to be all right.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re the big-time lawyer, living the life of a celebrity, and probably got a man with a lot of money, too.”

“No, I don’t. In my profession, you can’t keep a relationship because men are always intimidated by success. So for the most part I’ve been single.”

“So, what’s going on? Last time I heard, you’d gotten hired on to some big-time law firm, making seven figures a year.”

“Yes, that’s true. But I think I’ve gotten kind of burnt out with all the mind-numbing cases. It’s really hard trying to compete with other attorneys, especially when you’re trying to make partner in your firm. People don’t play fair. So anyway, I decided to get out of there for awhile and take some time off.”

“So, what are you going to do?”

“I wanted to come and see you guys.”

“Come on and see us, because we ain’t going nowhere.”

“Well, give me thirty minutes and I’ll be there.”

“What do you mean, you’ll be here in thirty minutes? Where are you?” Carmen got excited.

“I’m in Norfolk at the Marriott hotel downtown.”

“Oh, my God! Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious. So let’s get together so we can continue to catch up. I would love to see how everybody else is doing.”

“Are you driving?”

“Yes, I have a rental.”

“Okay. Well, you can come by the house and pick me up. That way you can see Grandma and the rest of the family.”

“Does Grandma still live in the same house from when we were kids?”

“Yep, she sure does. The house is blue now, but other than that, ain’t nothing changed but our ages.”

The thought of my grandmother still living in that old house made me cringe. I honestly couldn’t imagine anyone living there for as long as she had. I remembered back when I used to visit her how the floor would squeak because the hardwood flooring was old and had never been maintained. I also remembered her having wood paneling on her walls, space heaters in every room of the house during the winter months, and one big air conditioner in the living room during the summer months. Everybody used to pile up in that small-ass living room when it was hot. I just hoped conditions at that house had gotten at least a little bit better. Because if it had gotten any worse, then the house sure needed to be condemned.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll be there in thirty.”

“Okay,” Carmen said; then we hung up.

It only took me about thirty-five minutes to hop in the shower and get dressed. I could not let on that I was a fugitive, so I slid on a pair of dark blue Chip & Pepper jeans, a black wool Max Mara turtleneck, and a pair of black Fendi riding boots. It was kind of nippy outside, so I also threw on a wool blazer with patches on the elbows. After making sure my weave looked straight, I headed out.

The distance from the hotel to my grandmother’s house was a total of seven miles. From the looks of it, a lot of things had indeed changed since I last visited. I saw that several new high-rise developments had gone up, while a lot of the low-income housing projects had been torn down. I figured that was a good thing. But then while I was driving down Church Street toward Huntersville, where my family grew up, I noticed that some of the houses seemed to be condemned. I wasn’t really liking this setup at all because the farther I drove into the neighborhood, the more ravaged it became. To make matters worse, there were at least five bums or drug addicts on every corner. The neighborhood’s small-time drug pushers weren’t too far away from them, so there was no question that there were hand to hand deals in the works. I wanted so badly to turn around and go back the way I came, but I figured that being among my people would probably be the only way I could stay clear of the police. No one around here looked like they’d watched the news in a very long time, so I was sure they wouldn’t recognize me.

Continuing my journey to my grandmother’s house, I drove one more block and made a right turn on Washington Avenue. When I finally pulled up in front of the house, I looked up and realized that it was exactly how I remembered it, except the vinyl siding was blue instead of white, and the front porch was packed with living room furniture instead of your normal outdoor furniture. I was sure that old cloth fabric sofa and love seat were filled with mold and mildew from the rain and outside moisture. I knew for sure that I wouldn’t be sitting on that godforsaken looking thing. After surveying the front of the house, I realized I was going to keep my visit here short and carry my ass back to my hotel. So much for hiding out in the hood.

As soon as I got out of the truck and closed the door behind me, the front door to the house opened and Carmen ran onto the porch. “Oh, my God! I can’t believe it’s you.” She smiled and raced toward me.

We embraced each other and then I pulled back so I could get a good look at her. Sorry to say, I wasn’t too impressed with how Carmen was looking. She wasn’t pretty like she used to be. She used to have beautiful skin and long, healthy-looking hair. Now, her skin looked stressed, she had bags under her eyes, and she looked like she needed Botox. Her figure was the same, although she had put on a few pounds, but somehow or other she looked like she was at least ten years older than me. And her taste in clothing was at least five years behind the times. She wore this old, red, hideous Enyce velour sweat suit with lint balls covering the entire jacket. The Reebok sneakers she had on looked a little better than the sweat suit, but not by much. Her hair was combed back into a ponytail, but the edges near her scalp sent a clear message that she needed a relaxer ASAP. I wanted to be the one to tell her, but it was too early in the game for me to be giving her advice without her taking it personal. I did not want us to fall out over my critique of her appearance within the first five minutes of us reuniting. So, I smiled and said, “I can’t believe it’s you either. You definitely look the same, just with a little bit of weight on.”

“That’s all the good cooking. Grandma be putting it down in the kitchen with all the fried chicken, meat loaves, collard greens, and macaroni and cheese. I can’t ever get enough.”

“I can tell.”

“You look good, too,” she said as she circled around me to check me out.

I smiled. “Thanks,” I said, then I threw my Prada handbag over my shoulder as if to say, “Let’s proceed into the house, please.”

Apparently she got the hint, because not even a second later she grabbed onto my arm and said, “Come on in the house.”

We treaded over the porch’s weak wooden planks and then went inside. Carmen walked ahead of me and led me straight to the back room, which was where everyone hung out. It was like the meeting room for the family. Along the way, I looked at the pictures that hung on the walls. I saw a few photos of my father from when he was younger and a couple of photos of myself. My God, things had definitely changed. I looked like an innocent little girl then, with my two long pigtails. But look at me now. Who would have ever thought that I would have turned out the way I am today?

My grandmother was sitting in a recliner facing the television when I walked into the room. I would bet every dime I had stashed away that she was seventy-two years old, but she looked like she was every bit of fifty-five to sixty. She had not aged one bit. She kind of reminded me of Martin Lawrence’s Big Momma character from the movie Big Momma’s House. When she saw me, she smiled and said, “I see you’re not a little girl anymore. Come on over and give me a hug.”

I leaned over and hugged her. “How have you been?” I asked after I stood back up.

“I’ve been doing fine. Now, take a seat,” she instructed me, and pointed to the sofa next to her.

I sat on the sofa and crossed my legs while Carmen took a seat next to me. Both of these women seemed like they were very happy to see me. “I see you haven’t changed a thing around here. This house looks just like it did back when I was a little girl,” I commented, looking around the room. It wasn’t a compliment.

“Honey, please. This house looks a mess now,” she replied, and threw her hands up to wave me off. “Over the past eight or nine years, my family has put a hand or two into tearing this house down. I would have never thought my house would look like this one day. If your granddaddy was alive right now, there wouldn’t be a soul living in here and this house would look like it did the day we bought it. But since I am here by myself to fight off all these demons everybody in here has, I’ve allowed them to come in here and tear down what your granddaddy built. I’ve been trying to keep all my kids from coming back in my home for years, but they don’t listen. They all get out there in those streets and get on those drugs and forget all about they got bills. And when they get kicked out their houses, where do you think they come? Here. And their trifling tails don’t ever offer me any money. And on top of that, they come up in here and steal me blind,” she continued, with a disgusted look on her face.

“Wow! It sure sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate.” I couldn’t believe it. She deserved better.

“Honey, let’s just put it like this. Grandma Hattie got more drama than your mama,” she said with a smile. Better her than me.

“So, who’s staying here with you besides Carmen?”

“Carmen’s mama, Sandra, and her little sister, Rachael.”

“How long have they been living here?” I asked.

“For about six months now. But before they moved back in here, your uncle Reginald was sleeping on that sofa you’re sitting on for three years. I just put his butt out a couple of weeks ago because he kept bringing those nasty drug addict women in here all times of the night so he can sleep with them.”

“Oh, my God! That’s awful.”

“Child, you ain’t seen nothing. Be around here longer than a week and you gon’ see what Grandma Hattie be going through.”

“You need to get out of here and go on a vacation.”

“I sure do, but I can’t go nowhere and leave my house.”

“Why not?”

“Because I might not have a house when I come back. I would bet every penny I’ve got saved up in my pickle jar back there in my closet that if I left this house for more than two days, I’d probably come back and this place would be burned down to the ground. Or it would be empty from Sandra trying to sell everything out of here.”

“Why would she do that?”

“To support her drug habit. What else?”

“Are you serious?”

“Grandma don’t be doing no lying. That’s one thing you’re going to learn about her,” Carmen blurted out.

“What is Sandra’s drug of choice?”

“She’s on that heroin stuff. And that mess got her looking really bad, too. You should see her; she does not look like the daughter I once had. She looks like a total stranger to me, especially since her face is all sunk in and she done lost all that weight.”

“I am so sorry to hear that.”

“Honey, all we can do is pray for her because she ain’t gon’ stop running them streets until something powerful stops her in her tracks.”

I really didn’t know what else to say about that situation with Carmen’s mother. I mean, who was I to pass judgment? I was a recovering cokehead myself. Thankfully, I had not gotten as bad as my Aunt Sandra, but the fact that I’d used drugs still lingered in my mind. So I decided t. . .