get Bobby on the phone for me.”
“Bobby; it’s Victor. Black wants to talk to you. Hold on,” Victor said and handed the phone to me.
“You busy?”
“Not really,” Bobby said.
“Where you at?”
“I’m at Grant’s. Why?”
“Stay there. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. I need to talk to you about something,” I said and ended the call. I handed Victor back his phone and relaxed.
“You find out what you wanted to know from Sabrina?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t think Bo and Hank was in it alone, do you?”
I glanced over at Victor. “Do you?”
“No, I don’t”
“I don’t either; but tell me why you don’t?”
Victor swallowed hard, like he was about to answer a test question. “Even if they killed you, Bobby, and Nick, Bo still wouldn’t have a clear path to the throne. He would have to contend with Sherman and Howard. And if Wanda ever figured out that him and Hank was behind it, she would come after him with everything she had. In either one of those scenarios, Bo would need all the muscle he could get. That’s where Bull Harris and Skip Skinner come in.”
“Good answer.” I was starting to like Victor. He was smart and he wasn’t afraid of shit, but like I said, he wasn’t ruthless like Freeze was. Still, if I kept him around, showed him a few things-who was I kiddin’. I knew I wasn’t gonna be around to train him to handle power like I’d done with Freeze. If I didn’t have to handle this little matter, I’d be in Nassau right now. Lately, the most important thing in the world is being Michelle’s father. Maybe that’s what almost dyin’ does for you; makes you understand and appreciate the things that are really important in your life. And that’s Michelle. She already lost her mother because of my shit; so what was I doing out here runnin’ the risk of her losing her father, too? I grew up without a father; so I understand what’s it’s gonna be like for her. Maybe that’s why I’ve gravitated toward CeCe. She was great with Michelle and Michelle was crazy about her.
CeCe’s a good woman. Not the scheming baller’s ex-girlfriend I’d made her out to be. I was content with her. There was no drama in our life and I liked it that way. It’s the closest that I’ve ever come to a normal life, and that seems to have a haunting pull on me.
And then I thought about Jada West. She had a haunting pull on me, too, but for entirely different reasons.
We pulled up in front of Grant’s and went inside. Bobby wasn’t hard to find. He was sitting at a table near the back, and was surrounded by women. Before I went over there, I stopped by Grant’s office. He had run that spot and few number joints for me for years. I liked Grant, but I didn’t respect him. It wasn’t business. He was a smart businessman and a good earner; I just had no respect for him. He was too easily led, too quick to go along. Like he didn’t stand for shit. But like I said, he was a good earner.
Once I showed Grant some respect-it wouldn’t be right for me to be in his house and not speak-Victor and I went and sat down with Bobby. “What’s up, Mike?” Bobby said.
“Ladies, would you excuse me; I need to talk to Mr. Ray for a minute.”
Victor got up and herded the ladies away from the table. “Victor.”
“Yes, Black.”
“When you’re done with them, you can take off,” I said, and I could see that he looked disappointed as he walked away. I thought that he would be in a hurry to get back to Sabrina, but I guess not. He wanted to be a part of whatever I had planned for Bull and Skip. I turned to Bobby.
“Since you ran off all the women, this better be important,” Bobby said and picked up his drink.
“I think it is. Listen, Cruz Villanova, Bo, and Hank tried to kill us.”
“I was gonna talk to you about that. I don’t think it stops there. If Bo and Hank planned it, then them other two members of the fearsome foursome, Skip and Bull Harris, had to be in on it.”
“So when was you plannin’ on talkin’ to me about it?”
“Next time I was with you, which is now; so I’m tellin’ you.”
“Come on,” I said and got up.
“Where you thinkin’ about goin’?”
“I was thinkin’ about findin’ and killin’ these niggas. Wanna come along? Or should I call Victor back over here? I know he wants to go.”
Bobby finished his drink and got up. “Let’s go.”
When we got in the car and drove off, I could tell that he had something on his mind. For the next couple of hours, we rode from spot to spot looking for Bull and Skip. They were nowhere to be found, and nobody had seen them. That just made me believe that I was right about them. “Where we headed?” Bobby asked.
“I thought we’d stop by and see Nita Blue.”
“What you wanna see her for?”
“She hates Bull; so she kept tabs on him.” I thought for a minute. “And besides, I want a piece of her action.”
“You have for years.”
“This may be a way for both of us to get what we want.”
“You were gonna kill Bull anyway. Makes sense to let her think you’re doin’ her a favor,” Bobby said. “Good idea.”
“Thank you. I try to think up smart shit,” I said and waited for Bobby to say something, but he didn’t.
“You remember Keisha and Connie Mack?” Bobby asked.
“The Mack sisters. How could I forget them? Those were two fine-ass mutha fuckas.”
“Used to always be together,” Bobby said and laughed.
“Whenever you saw one, the other was around somewhere. They were inseparable.”
“How did we get them apart?” Bobby asked.
“You grabbed Keisha by the arm and dragged her in the room.”
“Yeah.” Bobby shook his head. “I had to talk to her for over an hour before she gave up that pussy.”
“Shit, soon as you closed the door, Connie looked at me and said, ‘wanna go in my room?’ ” I looked at Bobby. “Ain’t Keisha the one that used to go around sayin’ that you were her baby’s daddy?”
“That’s her.”
“What made you think about them?”
“Her daughter is dancin’ at Grant’s,” Bobby said.
“She call you daddy?”
“No!”
“She look like you?”
“No!”
“How you know she’s Keisha’s daughter?”
“She walked up to me and said, ‘You Bobby Ray, right?’ I said: yes. She said, ‘My mama said to tell you hello.’ So I asked: who’s your mama? She put her hand on her hip and said, ‘Keisha Mack.’ ”
“She got big-ass hips like her mama?”
“She look just like her mama. Got a body like her too,” Bobby said.
“Suppose that is your daughter? How would you feel about your daughter dancin’ at Grant’s?”
“It don’t matter ’cause she ain’t my daughter, Mike,” Bobby said, and I could tell he was gettin’ a little mad. Just like he did back then.
“Let me put it another way. How would you feel if Barbara, or better yet, if Bonita and Brenda were dancin’ at Grant’s? How would you feel then?”
“But they’re not.”
“They dance.”
“They do ballet!”
“Mercedes told me she used to do ballet,” I said quickly.
“Mercedes is dumber than a box of rocks,” Bobby partially shouted.
