go, girl!” Special cheered when the report was over. She gave Nichelle a high five, followed by a big hug.
“Nice publicity,” J.C. said. “How’d you swing that?”
“A friend of mine runs the assignment desk at Channel 2. I have interviews with two radio stations tomorrow.”
“Cool!” Special beamed. “I hope this case gets so much publicity Eugene can’t even find a closet to hide in.”
“I heard you’ve been pretty busy lately.” J.C. leaned forward over the bar to make eye contact with Special. “I got a call from Eugene earlier today.”
“He called me, too,” Nichelle said. “I already read her the riot act.”
Special picked up her Long Island iced tea and took a noisy sip. “I have no idea what y’all are talking about.”
“Special, you better back off,” J.C. warned. “And you better hope nobody saw you toss those nails in Eugene’s driveway and that his firm isn’t able to trace that email back to you. I promised him that you weren’t going to bother him again.”
“Wasn’t me.” She picked up one of the nachos they had ordered and crunched on it.
“Eugene sent me a copy of that email,” Nichelle said. “How in the world did you even come up with such a spiteful idea in the first place?”
“That man is a pathological liar. That’s part and parcel of being on the down low.”
“Just leave him alone, or I’ll arrest you myself.” J.C. signaled the bartender and ordered a Sprite. “So what’s the next step with the lawsuit, Nichelle?”
“Eugene has to answer the complaint. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to get it dismissed.”
Special stopped mid-crunch. “He won’t be able to, will he?”
“I doubt it. At least not this early on.”
“Good. I can’t wait for you to put that boy on the witness stand.” She pointed a finger at the now-muted TV screen. “At least that brother right there got what he deserved.”
J.C. looked up and saw a photograph of Nathaniel Allen, the star running back at Fox Hills Junior College, flash across the screen.
“Special!” Nichelle glared at her. “How can you be so mean? The man was murdered.”
“I know for a fact that brother was on the down low, too. No telling how many women he infected.”
J.C. put down her Sprite. “What did you say?”
“You heard me. That brother was all up in the closet.”
“How do you know that?” J.C. asked.
“’Cuz I just do. You know Shawnta, my braider? Well, she knows this guy named Donte who was one of Nathaniel Allen’s boys. Or I should say,
girls
.”
Nichelle folded her arms over her ample bosom. “I don’t believe that. You think every guy you meet is gay.”
“You don’t have to believe it. Shawnta didn’t believe it either until Donte showed her a picture of the two of them together.”
“A picture of two men together doesn’t prove anything,” Nichelle said dismissively.
“It does when it’s taken with a hidden camera and shows two you know whats. Shawnta told me Donte was in the shop yesterday crying like a baby.”
“He must’ve really loved him,” Nichelle said sadly.
“Loved him?
” Special crinkled up her nose. “Hell, nah. Donte’s a major whore. He was waiting for that boy to win the Heisman trophy and go pro so he could confront him with the photographs. He kept extra copies of ’em in a safe deposit box at Bank of America. Donte was crying over all that blackmail money he won’t be getting.”
“That’s awful,” Nichelle said.
“It is what it is.”
J.C. drained the remainder of her Sprite and hopped off the bar stool. “Gotta go.”
“Already?” Nichelle said. “They should have a table for us soon.”
J.C.’s face glowed with excitement. “I think Special may’ve just given me some information that might help me solve not one murder, but three.”
Chapter 24
N ichelle arrived at the O’Reilly & Finney offices just before seven o’clock the following night. Vernetta had agreed to help Nichelle
“Nice publicity,” J.C. said. “How’d you swing that?”
“A friend of mine runs the assignment desk at Channel 2. I have interviews with two radio stations tomorrow.”
“Cool!” Special beamed. “I hope this case gets so much publicity Eugene can’t even find a closet to hide in.”
“I heard you’ve been pretty busy lately.” J.C. leaned forward over the bar to make eye contact with Special. “I got a call from Eugene earlier today.”
“He called me, too,” Nichelle said. “I already read her the riot act.”
Special picked up her Long Island iced tea and took a noisy sip. “I have no idea what y’all are talking about.”
“Special, you better back off,” J.C. warned. “And you better hope nobody saw you toss those nails in Eugene’s driveway and that his firm isn’t able to trace that email back to you. I promised him that you weren’t going to bother him again.”
“Wasn’t me.” She picked up one of the nachos they had ordered and crunched on it.
“Eugene sent me a copy of that email,” Nichelle said. “How in the world did you even come up with such a spiteful idea in the first place?”
“That man is a pathological liar. That’s part and parcel of being on the down low.”
“Just leave him alone, or I’ll arrest you myself.” J.C. signaled the bartender and ordered a Sprite. “So what’s the next step with the lawsuit, Nichelle?”
“Eugene has to answer the complaint. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to get it dismissed.”
Special stopped mid-crunch. “He won’t be able to, will he?”
“I doubt it. At least not this early on.”
“Good. I can’t wait for you to put that boy on the witness stand.” She pointed a finger at the now-muted TV screen. “At least that brother right there got what he deserved.”
J.C. looked up and saw a photograph of Nathaniel Allen, the star running back at Fox Hills Junior College, flash across the screen.
“Special!” Nichelle glared at her. “How can you be so mean? The man was murdered.”
“I know for a fact that brother was on the down low, too. No telling how many women he infected.”
J.C. put down her Sprite. “What did you say?”
“You heard me. That brother was all up in the closet.”
“How do you know that?” J.C. asked.
“’Cuz I just do. You know Shawnta, my braider? Well, she knows this guy named Donte who was one of Nathaniel Allen’s boys. Or I should say,
girls
.”
Nichelle folded her arms over her ample bosom. “I don’t believe that. You think every guy you meet is gay.”
“You don’t have to believe it. Shawnta didn’t believe it either until Donte showed her a picture of the two of them together.”
“A picture of two men together doesn’t prove anything,” Nichelle said dismissively.
“It does when it’s taken with a hidden camera and shows two you know whats. Shawnta told me Donte was in the shop yesterday crying like a baby.”
“He must’ve really loved him,” Nichelle said sadly.
“Loved him?
” Special crinkled up her nose. “Hell, nah. Donte’s a major whore. He was waiting for that boy to win the Heisman trophy and go pro so he could confront him with the photographs. He kept extra copies of ’em in a safe deposit box at Bank of America. Donte was crying over all that blackmail money he won’t be getting.”
“That’s awful,” Nichelle said.
“It is what it is.”
J.C. drained the remainder of her Sprite and hopped off the bar stool. “Gotta go.”
“Already?” Nichelle said. “They should have a table for us soon.”
J.C.’s face glowed with excitement. “I think Special may’ve just given me some information that might help me solve not one murder, but three.”
Chapter 24
N ichelle arrived at the O’Reilly & Finney offices just before seven o’clock the following night. Vernetta had agreed to help Nichelle
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