No More Tears In The End

“Yes, sir,” said a defeated Wanda. She had taken her shot, but she wasn’t prepared. That wouldn’t happen again.

“Don’t get me wrong. Everything you said is true. I’ve been thinking about gettin’ out before Michelle loses her father too. Maybe it’s time.”

“What about Vinnelli?” Nick wanted to know.

“I gave Angelo my word that I’d let that go.”

“Angelo?” Bobby questioned. Now that Angelo thinks it’s a good idea he gives his word, he thought. Bobby had been saying all along that after what happened with Masters and Mylo that Black should back off of Vinnelli.

“Well for once I agree with him,” Wanda said. “We dodged a bullet with Mylo and that other character, no point pushing our luck any further.”

Bobby got up from the table. “Well, if we’re finished here, I got to get back uptown.”

“You goin’ to the club?” Black asked.

“Not right away, but I’ll be there sometime tonight.”

“I’ll see you up there later. I wanna run something past you.”

“Cool,” Bobby said and left the restaurant.

After Bobby left, Black, Nick, and Wanda talked and had drinks. When Wanda excused herself to the ladies room, Black turned to Nick.

“There’s somethin’ I want you to do for me.”

“What’s that?”

“There was a robbery at Paradise Fish and Chicken. Two people were killed.”

“Employees?”

“No, customers. They were standing in line when the bandits hit. Shot them for no reason.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Black reached in his pocket and pulled out a fat envelope. “Take this to the family. The address is in the envelope. Her name was Zakiya Phillips; the money is for her grandmother. To help out with expenses.”

Nick took the envelope from Black. “It’ll give me a reason to get out of the house.”

“With Wanda’s pushin’ me to get involved in the legit side, I’ll be busy most of the day,” Black said and shook his head.

“You? Busy during the day?” They both laughed because Black was truly a night person.

“Picture that. But if that’s where we’re headed, she’s right. I need to be on top it; especially since that’s where the most money is being made. So tomorrow, you call Kevon after you get done with Mrs. Phillips. I want to talk to you about some other things.” Black told Nick as Wanda returned to the table. “About time. I was about to send a waitress in to check on you.”

“I didn’t think I had been gone that long. You must be ready to go?”

“Exactly,” Black said and called for the check.

Nick didn’t feel like driving back uptown, him and Wanda got a room at the Westin on 43^rd Street. Once they had checked into the room and had gotten comfortable, Wanda had questions. “Did Mike ask you what you wanted to do?”

“I didn’t tell him that I was thinkin’ about runnin’ the game if that’s what you wanna know. But there is something he does what me to do.”

“What?”

“Did you know that there was a robbery at Paradise Fish and Chicken?” Nick asked, knowing that she did. Wanda stayed on top of everything. There were times when he wondered who her sources were. He would make it his business to find out.

“Yes. I heard that a couple of people were killed. What does he want you to do?”

“Take some money to one of the victim’s grandmother,” Nick replied and waited for her to say something, but she didn’t. Wanda just moved closer to him in bed and put her head on his chest. Maybe I don’t know her as well as I thought I did, Nick thought. When she began gliding her hand over his chest, Nick knew then that Wanda wasn’t interested in talking.

Chapter 6

Nick Simmons

The next morning Wanda left to go to her office, and I went back uptown and got ready to take the envelope to the victim’s family. I understood from my army days what was in front of me. Having to tell parents that their child was dead wasn’t an easy thing. This wasn’t the same thing, since she already knew that her granddaughter was dead, but I still wasn’t in the mood to deal with her grief. I had enough of my own.

When I got to Mrs. Phillips’s apartment, I knocked on the door and waited for her to answer. It took a while, but finally the door opened. “Mrs. Phillips?”

“Yes.” she smiled. “How can I help you, young man?”

“My name is Nick Simmons. Mike Black asked me to stop by and give this to you.” I tried to hand her the envelope and get away from there.

“Mr. Black said to expect you. Come in,” Mrs. Phillips said and stepped aside to allow me to enter the apartment.

Not wanting to be rude, not to mention having respect for my elders, I went inside. “Thank you.”

Mrs. Phillips was slow getting around, but she led me into the living room and offered me a seat. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thank you. I wouldn’t want you go to any trouble,” I said and tried to hand her the envelope again, but she wouldn’t take it.

“Nonsense. It’s no trouble at all. What would you like?”

“Whatever you have is fine.”

“I just made a pitcher of iced tea, or would you like something a little stronger?”

“It’s a little early in the day for me,” I lied. Lately, I’ve been waking up to Johnnie Black.

“I usually have a glass of brandy around this time of day. One drink in the morning and one before bed, it’s the secret to living a long life.”

Since I wasn’t about to argue with her wisdom, I accepted. “That’ll be fine. Can I help you?”

“No. You relax and be comfortable,” she said and disappeared into the kitchen.

When Mrs. Phillips returned with our drinks, she sat down in a chair by the window. “Come sit by me,” she said and pointed to the chair closer to her.

“I want you to know how sorry I am about your granddaughter,” I said as I came toward her.

“That’s her in that picture,” Mrs. Phillips said and pointed to a picture frame.

I picked up the frame. “She was very pretty.”

“And smart too. Wasn’t like so many of these young girls her age. Out there runnin’ these streets, doing God only knows what. She was a good girl. Going somewhere, had a future ahead of her.”

I saw a tear run down Mrs. Phillips face and I felt her pain.

“Do the police have any idea who shot her?”

Mrs. Phillips laughed. “Do they ever?”

“Not in this neighborhood,” I laughed too.

“Zakiya called me that morning, like she always did. I mentioned that she didn’t sound like herself. Zakiya was one of those bubbly kinds of people. Always smiling, always had something nice to say, but that day she just didn’t sound right. Didn’t sound like herself. She said that she was meeting somebody at that place and that she was a little nervous about it.”

“Did she say what she was nervous about?”

“No, and when I asked her about it she just said it was nothing and changed the subject.”

“What else did the police tell you?”

“They said it was drug related, but that’s a lie. They said that the boy she was with was a drug dealer. They