Philadelphia (12 page)

The minute the police got the warrant to go after Phareed, they had split into two teams. Half of them went to the Honey Trap, and the other half went to Phareed's crib.

Walter sped down the street with his siren blaring and lights flashing. He screeched around the corner and onto Phareed's street. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a woman walking in the opposite direction. After a second it registered in his brain that the woman looked like Billie, but by the time he looked back, she had disappeared around the corner. He was almost certain it had been Billie—same profile, same walk, same style of clothing she preferred.

What the hell is she doing in this neighborhood?
he thought.

A second later, he put her out of his mind as he screeched to a halt in front of Phareed's house, jumped out of his car, and drew his weapon. The team gathered in front of the house and stormed the front door. They spread out, going from room to room in search of Phareed.

It wasn't long before one of the team yelled out, “We've got him!”

Walter came running up the stairs to the bedroom. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the scene in the bedroom.

“Fuck,” he said when he saw Phareed's dead body.

“This looks like it just happened. The body is still warm.” The cop was feeling for a pulse. Instead of coming to arrest Phareed, they were now there to investigate a murder.

Without thinking, Walter ran downstairs, out of the house, and down the street to the corner. He looked in the direction he'd seen Billie walking, but the street was deserted.

Walter had to find out if that was really Billie he had seen, and if it was, why she was in the neighborhood? He had a strange feeling that it wasn't a coincidence.

Walter called Billie on her cell phone. No answer. He called her on her home phone. No answer. His uneasy feeling just got worse. He needed answers, and the only way to get them was to confront Billie.

Before he could go to Billie's, he needed to complete the investigation at the crime scene. While walking back to the house, he called D'Angelo. He hadn't heard from D'Angelo in more than a day. In fact, no one had heard from him, and it was beginning to worry Walter. It didn't seem to be in line with D'Angelo's character to disappear like this.

Walter left a message. “Yo, D. Where the fuck are you? Call me back.”

Walter was distracted the entire time he was investigating the crime scene. He couldn't stop thinking that D'Angelo missing and Billie being in the neighborhood were somehow connected.
Billie's in the vicinity of Phareed's house when he's murdered . . . D'Angelo is missing in action . . . What the fuck is going on?
As much as he didn't want to believe the worst, he'd been a detective long enough to know that something definitely didn't fit.

He finished with the crime scene as fast as he could. He stepped outside of the house to find that night had descended upon Philadelphia. He had been inside longer than he thought. Walter got into his car and called Billie again.

“Billie, it's Walter. Are you home?” he said after she answered.

“Yeah, why?”

“I'm coming over. Don't leave.”

He hung up so quickly that Billie didn't think he even heard her say, “Okay.”

During the drive to her house, Walter tried to piece together how D'Angelo and Billie could be connected—or even how Billie and Phareed might be connected. Did this have something to do with the night Billie was attacked? None of it made sense to Walter.

He parked in front of Billie's house. Usually when he arrived at her house he was excited and ready for a date. This time he felt like he was preparing to interview a suspect. He was dreading this confrontation.

Billie answered the door upbeat and relaxed. She was wearing a loose-fitting white V-neck T-shirt and a pair of tight-fitting Prada jeans.

When she saw Walter she gave him a big hug and kiss. This greeting threw Walter off. It was the opposite of what he was expecting.

“Hey. Come in.” She released him and stepped aside.

“You seem to be in a good mood.” He entered the house.

“I am. You want a glass of wine?”

“Sure.”

Walter was feeling nervous and uncomfortable. If this had been a normal interrogation, he would have gotten right to his questioning, but this was the woman he loved. He needed answers, but he was afraid of what he might uncover. He started to have second thoughts about asking her anything.

She came back with two glasses of red wine. “How was your day?” She handed a glass to Walter.

“Good and bad.” He sat on the couch.

“Oh yeah? How?” She sat next to him and pulled her feet up under her.

Walter was looking for any sign of uneasiness from Billie, but she was acting completely relaxed and normal.

“We got the go-ahead to go after Phareed today.” Walter paused to see what Billie's reaction would be.

She raised her eyebrows in anticipation, but remained silent. She sipped her wine and watched him like she was watching a good movie.

“Yeah, we were all hyped to finally arrest him, but turns out we couldn't.” Again Walter tried to read Billie's reaction.

“Why not? Don't tell me because of some technicality.” Billie sounded aggravated.

“No. He was murdered.”

“What?” Billie looked stunned. “How?”

Walter didn't want to get into specifics with Billie. It was his job to get answers from her, not the other way around.

“Billie, where were you today?” Walter's demeanor changed from casual to business. He was now in detective mode.

“Home. Why?” At the same time he slipped into his professional mode, her tone picked up an edge of nervousness.

“I called you. You didn't answer,” he said.

“What time?”

“What does it matter? If you were home you would have heard the phone ring.”

“It matters because I did go out for a little bit, so I was thinking it was probably then.”

“I called your cell phone too.”

“Well, I didn't hear it. What are you getting at?” Her body language had changed from relaxed to guarded. Her tone was definitely defensive.

“Where were you?” His tone was strict.

“I went to the grocery store.”

“Which one?”

“Whole Foods.”

“Where?”

“The one on North Twenty-first.”

For every question Walter had, Billie had a quick answer. It was like a lightning round in a game show.

“Why did you go there?”

“'Cause I like that grocery store. You want to see my receipt? What the fuck, Walter? Just ask me whatever it is you want to ask.” She was extremely angry now.

Walter couldn't tell if her anger was real or a put-on. Usually he was good at telling the difference, but his feelings for Billie were clouding his judgment.

He came right out and asked the question that he'd been wondering all along. “Were you at Phareed's house today?”

Billie paused for a second, then burst out laughing. “Are you fucking kidding me? You don't honestly think that I had anything to do with Phareed's death.”

“Answer the question, Billie.”

“I don't even know where he lives. How could I have been there?”

“Were you in his neighborhood?”

“If he lives near the Whole Foods on Twenty-first, then yes. Walter, what the fuck? I just told you I don't know where he lives.”

“I'm just asking. I thought I might have seen you on his street. That's all.”

“Well, it wasn't me. . . .” Suddenly, her anger rose to a whole new level and she jumped up from the couch. “You know what? Get the fuck out of my house!” She pointed to the door. “You come in here out of the blue and start asking me questions and trying to pin me to the murder of a drug dealer? You have lost it. Leave!”

Walter stood up, now feeling more confused than before. If this were anyone else, he would have control of his emotions and be better able to judge their truthfulness, but with Billie, his head was messed up. He couldn't set aside his feelings for her. “Billie, calm down. I'm not trying to pin anything on you. I just thought I might have seen you when I was racing toward the house. I know it sounds crazy.”

“It sounds crazy because it is. Think about it. You think I could murder someone?”

Walter looked Billie in her eyes. These weren't the eyes of a killer. This was a highly educated, successful woman. He didn't want to see anything else in her eyes but goodness. He wouldn't allow himself to see anything else. No matter what his gut had been telling him earlier, he chose to believe that it wasn't Billie on the street earlier.

“Sometimes I just can't stop being a detective. You've been so distant with me, and then you go and take a leave of absence from work. I don't know, it just hasn't made sense to me. I'm not thinking straight.”

“Damn right you're not thinking straight.” Billie sensed she was gaining the upper hand. “You're getting so insecure about us that you're seeing things. You didn't see me anywhere today. I've told you I'm giving you as much as I can right now. If that isn't enough, then you should consider moving on.”

Walter was taken aback by Billie's suggestion. “Is that what you want?”

“If that's what you want.”

“No. It's not what I want.” Walter was confused. How had the conversation come to this?

“Then let us be what we are going to be,” Billie said gently. She took Walter's hand in hers.

“I love you.” He kissed her passionately.

She pulled away from him. “Are you sure you're okay with—”

Before she could finish the sentence he kissed her again. She got her answer.

The next morning Billie was woken by her ringing cell phone. She kept her eyes closed as she clumsily felt around the nightstand for the unwelcome alarm.

Walter stirred next to her and pulled the covers under his chin.

Billie found the phone. She was lying on her side with her back facing Walter.

“Hello,” she answered.

“What's up, ma?”

Billie recognized Stone's voice immediately.

“Hey.” She tried to sound awake and chipper. Billie got up from the bed, went into the bathroom, and closed the door behind her. She did not want Walter hearing any part of this conversation.

“You sleeping?”

“No, no, I'm awake. How you doin'?”

“I want to see you. I still got all them clothes I bought you.”

Billie had forgotten that she had left her shopping bags with Stone.

“I want to see you too, daddy. I was wondering when I was going to get those clothes from you. Where should I meet you?” She put on her sexiest voice.

“Meet me at my bar.”

“What time?”

“Now.”

“I'm on my way, daddy.” Billie hung up the phone.

Billie wondered if Stone had heard that Phareed was dead. She figured he had, but didn't want to discuss it over the phone. She could get more information from him when she saw him.

Billie jumped in the shower and quickly washed off. When she walked back into the bedroom to get dressed, Walter was sitting up in bed. Seeing him startled Billie. She had completely forgotten he was still there.

“Good morning. Did I scare you?” he greeted her.

“I wasn't expecting you to be awake.”

“Who was on the phone?”

“A girlfriend. We're going shopping.” Billie avoided looking at Walter.

Walter picked up on this slight and suddenly his suspicious nature kicked back in. “Who?”

“You don't know her. Tasha. We met at my spin class.”

Walter knew that Billie took an early morning spin class, but he had never heard her speak about any of the people in the class before.

“Oh. Okay. Maybe I can meet y'all for lunch,” he pressed.

“Yeah, we'll see. It might just be a girls' thing though. But I'll let you know.” Billie still hadn't looked at Walter. She had been busying herself with her makeup.

Walter was extremely suspicious now. He was almost certain that Billie was going to meet another man. “All right. I gotta go home.” Walter got out of bed and started dressing.

Billie continued with her makeup and hair as Walter finished dressing.

“Call me,” Walter said as he left the bedroom.

Billie was surprised that Walter didn't even kiss her good-bye. She thought about it for a second then quickly dropped it. She didn't have time to worry about any of that. She had to get her game face on and meet with Stone to find out what he knew about Phareed's death.

Billie thought about her chance meeting with Stone as she drove to the bar. She was at an extremely low point when she walked into the bar that day. She had just been attacked, was bloodied and bruised and uncertain about her next moves. Then fate took over and Stone showed up. What were the odds that she would need a drink and go to the bar owned by Stone? She was sure the odds were high, but again she thought of her daddy and was certain that he was leading her from above.

Billie pulled up in front of the bar. No lights were on and the metal security gates were still down in front of the windows. She was a little hesitant to enter the bar, but ignored any fear she had.

Stone was sitting at the empty bar when she walked in. He was the only one there. He got up from his stool and walked toward Billie, meeting her halfway. He grabbed her waist and kissed her right away. Their tongues explored each other's mouths in a passionate embrace.

Billie was not ready but quickly settled in and went along with it. From this greeting she knew that she had Stone where she wanted him. She was going to be able to manipulate this entire encounter.

They broke their embrace. “Mmmm that was a nice hello,” said Billie.

Stone put his hands on her shoulders and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Phareed is dead.” He paused and remained leaning into her. She could feel his breath in her ear. “And you killed him.”

Before Billie had time to react, Stone shoved her hard. She slammed into the tables behind her, and chairs scattered as she ended up splayed out on the floor.

“You think you can get away with this? You cheating, murdering bitch!” He raced forward and kicked her in the stomach like a punter kicking a field goal in football.

She gasped audibly as the wind was knocked out of her. She lay in the fetal position on the floor, wheezing and coughing and clutching her stomach, struggling to regain control of her breath.

“What . . . are . . . you . . . talking ... about?” she said.

“You know exactly what I'm talkin' 'bout, bitch.” He kicked her again. This time her arm was in the way to protect her stomach and absorb the blow.

Stone grabbed her by the back of her shirt and picked her off the floor like a doll.

“I didn't kill anyone.” She was crying, trying to deal with the pain in her stomach. She couldn't figure out how Stone could know she killed Phareed. Had she left a clue?
Deny 'til you die,
she told herself.

“Fuck you, you lying bitch!”

Billie heard Isis's voice behind her and then felt Isis's fist to the back of her head. “I saw your grimy ass leave the club with Phareed. Next thing you know he dead!” Another punishing blow connected to the back of Billie's head.

Billie saw stars and heard a ringing in her ears. She was on the verge of passing out. She fought back but was unsuccessful. Next thing she knew, her world went black.

 

 

She came to, but was completely disoriented. It took her a second to get her bearings. She had no idea what had just happened or how long she had been out. When she began to regain her wits, she realized she was still in Stone's grasp, getting hit in her face.

“Wake up, bitch.” Stone was slapping her over and over. “Isis, get me water to throw in this bitch's face.”

As Isis started for the bar, the front door flew open.

“Philadelphia PD. Hands up.” Walter came bursting through the front door and charged directly at Stone.

Isis bolted for the back door.

Stone threw Billie to the ground and tried to run, but Walter had too much of a head start and easily caught up with him. Walter tackled Stone, and the two started fighting.

Billie was still attempting to recover from passing out. Her head was foggy and her body felt weak. Watching the two men fight had a dreamlike quality for Billie.

Walter and Stone were in a vicious battle. Tables were getting knocked around, chairs were flying, and heads were being pummeled. The men were trading punches back and forth, each one wrestling to gain control over the other. It was like two bears fighting for dominance.

Walter finally gained the upper hand and pinned Stone on his stomach. He was able to twist one of Stone's arms behind his back and attach a handcuff around his wrist. He grabbed hold of the other wrist and clamped it in the cuff.

“Get the fuck off me!” Stone yelled.

Walter picked Stone up off the ground. Billie's head was clearer as she stood and stabilized herself on her feet. Walter pushed Stone toward the door. As they passed Billie, Stone said, “Fuck you, Sheila. You think you can get away with murdering Phareed? You a dead bitch!”

Walter hit Stone in the back of his head and pushed him out the door, giving Billie a curious look as he passed her. Still trying to process everything that had just happened, Billie walked behind the bar and poured herself some vodka. Even though it was still early in the day, she needed something to steady her nerves.

She sat at the bar with her head in her hands until the front door opened up. Billie turned her head to see Walter coming back into the bar. He had locked Stone in the car.

“Billie, what the fuck was he talking about? What is going on?”

“I don't know.”

“Don't fuck with me!” Walter screamed and slammed his hand on the bar, startling Billie. Walter saw her reaction and calmed himself. “Look, I love you Billie. I have been patient and I have tried to be understanding these past few weeks when something's obviously been going on with you. Now I need you to be honest with me. What is he talking about you killing Phareed?”

Billie heard what he said, and, looking into his eyes, she wanted to be honest with him. But of course she knew she could never be, not about this. So she put her best game face on, and said, “I honestly don't know. You heard him. He called me Sheila. He thinks I'm someone else. But think about it. That makes sense. You thought you saw me the other day near Phareed's house. It must be the same woman who this guy is confusing me with.”

Walter thought about this for a second. It could make sense, but he wasn't convinced. After all, what the hell was she doing in this bar with that thug?

“Why are you here? At this bar so early? I thought you were meeting your friend to go shopping.” He actually sounded disappointed, like a father who just realized his daughter has been lying to him.

“I . . . I was . . . just . . . Look, I can't lie to you, Walter. I was coming in here for a drink. I've been under a lot of stress.”

Walter looked at the empty glass sitting on the bar in front of her. Again, it could make sense, but there were too many pieces that didn't fit.

“Are you fucking this guy?”

“No!”

“Billie, be straight with me.”

Billie sensed that Walter wasn't buying her story. She didn't think she could keep making up excuses without messing up. Then it hit her—turn it on him.

“Wait, what are you doing here? You didn't just happen in on this bar. Were you fucking following me?” she asked indignantly.

She had nailed him. She could see it on his face. Walter's facial expression went from stern to worried.

“No, I, um . . .” He was searching for words.

“I can't believe it. How long have you been following me?”

“Just today. I swear. I got suspicious this morning and I decided to follow you.”

“I can't deal with this, Walter. I'm done. You're suffocating me.” She was just so relieved that he had stopped asking questions. She didn't really want to end things with him, but in the moment, she just wanted to get the fuck out of this situation.

Walter wasn't going to be sent away that easily. “Don't turn this on me,” he said.

Feeling like she was running out of options, Billie got up from the bar and walked out the front door. Walter followed her.

“Billie,” he called to her.

She ignored him and kept walking, got into her car, and pulled away.

Walter watched her drive off, turn the corner, and disappear. He hadn't gotten the full story from her and he knew it. What he didn't know was whether he really wanted to hear the real story.

“Looks like you got played, nigga,” Stone said as Walter got in the car.

“Shut the fuck up.” Walter pulled away from the curb and headed to the station house to process Stone.