Devilish Details by Lynn Emery

crime had kept pace with more PR worthy
milestones. The murder rate was one such nasty flow chart that kept
going up. Jazz had no interest in contributing to those numbers, at
least not as a victim. Kyeisha was another thing. She’d no doubt
sent her crazy lover to take a bite out of Jazz. She’d have to
pay.
    Jazz let out a hiss when they entered an
interview room. “ Great, I get shot at and now I’m being
harassed.”
    “Don’t start before you find out what’s
goin’ down,” Miller rumbled. He nodded and the officer left.
    “What’s up?” Jazz rubbed the indentations on
her wrists caused by the thick, hard plastic cuffs.
    “You tell me.” Miller leaned back against
the chair as though he had all kinds of time and patience.
    Though she knew the game, Jazz was still
unnerved by his impassive stare. She heaved a sigh. “Okay, you want
the truth?”
    “I come to work every day hoping to hear the
truth, Ms. Vaughn,” Miller replied evenly.
    “Bet you get disappointed a lot around this
place.”
    “So lighten my load and give me hope in
humanity again. Tell me all of the truth. Not just the parts
you want to tell,” Miller added when Jazz opened her mouth.
    Jazz studied him. Miller sat calmly allowing
Jazz to size him up. “Why are you talking to me? Okay, okay.” She
held up a hand before he answered. “You’re asking the questions,
I’m supplying the answers. I got it.”
    “I’m interested in why a murder suspect was
chasing you down like you’re a witness that could get him
convicted,” Miller said, dropping a bomb with precision.
    “I don’t know anything about Brandon’s
murder. And don’t pretend to be surprised. You’ve talked to Don,
Detective Addison,” Jazz added when Miller’s black coffee eyes
widened. “You already know I’m acquainted with the players in this
tragic story of love gone bad.”
    “Come again?” Miller blinked at her and sat
up straight.
    “Well I heard Kyeisha was doing Brandon
behind Cleavon’s back, and I mean these dudes ain’t romantic or
anything, but they do take having their pride stepped on pretty
seriously.” Jazz tossed in this nugget to get his attention back on
Cleavon and away from Don. She didn’t want to mess up the man’s
career.
    “A love triangle?” Miller’s skepticism came
through loud and clear.
    “Kyeisha ain’t big on loyalty. If a new guy
throws a little money around, that’s all it takes. She’s also not
too smart. Everybody knows Brandon had a big mouth and liked to
brag. I’m sure he had plans to move on Cleavon’s drug business
along with taking his woman.”
    Miller nodded solemnly and rubbed his strong
jaw. He gazed out through the glass windows of the interview room
at the bustle of the squad room. “Hmm. Could be. But why would
Cleavon come after you? Unless you were at the house that night and
managed to get out before the trouble started.”
    “No way. I’ve got sense enough not to hang
out in stank drug shacks with a bunch of gun toting idiots.
Besides, ain’t none of that crew my runnin’ buddies. You already
know that, too.” Jazz relaxed against the back of the chair. Miller
knew she wasn’t involved in Brandon’s murder. So she’d wait for him
to get to the point.
    “The truth about why he came after you,”
Miller said mildly. He leaned back in his chair.
    “Damn it.” Jazz hated being caged up, and
any police station was her second least favorite place in the
world. The first would always be foster care. “Kyeisha came to me
with some wild ass story about Cleavon and Brandon fighting to
become king of the thugs. They think I know about Filipe’s
connections to get serious drug shipments.”
    “Do you?” Miller asked as he tapped a large
forefinger on the table top.
    “Do I look like I’ve totally lost my damn
mind?” Jazz shot back without thinking. She took in a breath and
exhaled. “Sorry. Listen, I’m a former exotic dancer turned legitimate business woman. Even on my worse day, I