Murder Deja Vu

Lana.”
    Lana pushed the button. “Yes.”
    “Mokey.”
    Dana looked at Frank. “Who’s Mokey?”
    “My pick-up man.”
    “Do I want to know this?”
    “Probably not.”
    Lana hit the buzzer and opened the door. A lanky, light-skinned African-American sauntered in, but before Lana could close the door, three men announcing themselves as police forced their way in behind him.
    “You have no right to barge in here,” Lana said.
    “Every right in the world,” one of the cops said, waving a warrant in her face. They moved into the living room and did the same in front of Frank’s recliner. The youngest cop made his way through the apartment.
    Dana’s heart pumped so fast she thought it would lurch from her chest. So far, none of the cops paid her any attention. She wanted to slink away into the closet before they did. But hiding now wasn’t an option.
    “How’ya doing, bagman?” said the oldest cop, a big man with red spidery veins feathering a large round Irish face. His voice oozed disdain.
    “Bagman, my ass, Belue,” Frank said. “Can’t you see I’m a dying man? I ain’t got the strength for the rackets anymore.”
    “Yeah, well, I’ll tell you what I see.” He nodded toward Mokey. “I see a skinny runner come to collect money from an even skinnier bagman. That’s what I see.”
    “Why don’t you get off my ass? Your guys didn’t find anything here the other—”
    Frank stopped in mid-sentence. His gaunt face turned red as he’d obviously said something he shouldn’t have. Dana knew what it was. The people who searched the house the other day weren’t looking for racket money. They were looking for Reece and her.
    “You know what he’s talking about Sam?” Belue said to the other cop.
    Sam’s gaze rested on Dana. A smile started slow and stretched into a big grin. “I do now. Must’ve been Homicide here the other day, ’cause you know who we have here, Belue? If you don’t, you haven’t been following the news. This here’s that woman from North Carolina run off with, what’s his name, Daughtry, wanted for double murder down there.”
    “You don’t say. Well, what’d’ya know? You’re under arrest,” Belue said to Dana. “You’re all under arrest.”
    “On what charge?” Dana asked.
    “Yeah,” Frank said. “On what charge?”
    Belue sputtered. “Aiding and abetting a suspected murderer and flight to avoid prosecution, for starters. How do you like them apples?”
    Dana’s heart rate ratcheted up another notch. All her years with Robert flooded back. All the legal terminology. All Robert’s stories. “No one was prosecuting me, so that’s not an issue. And where’s the suspected murderer?” She looked around. “I don’t see anyone here wanted for murder. Frank, you’re not wanted for murder, are you? Lana?” She looked back at the cop, hoping the rumbling inside her didn’t show. “There’s no one here by the name of Daughtry for me to aid and abet. I’m visiting a friend. I had no idea anyone was looking for me.”
    The young cop came out of the guest bedroom. “Then whose are these?” he said, holding Reece’s duffel bag in the air.
    “Mine,” Mokey said without losing a beat. “I’ve been staying here occasionally. My old lady threw me out. Frank’s been putting me up.”
    “And you’ve been sleeping with her?” Belue said.
    “Yeah, you got a problem with that? Maybe you don’t like interracial relationships. Is that your problem? You a racist, Belue?”
    “A little old for you, ain’t she, Mokey? Bet she’s as old as your mother.”
    “Look at her.” Mokey gestured toward Dana. “Age is relative. Would you pass up a sweet thang like her?”
    Dana felt herself blushing. This longshot was not going to work, but they were sure giving it a worthy try. She stood, threw out her chest, and faced Belue. “I find your remark not only offensive, officer, but sexist and age discriminatory. It’s quite the thing nowadays for older women to partner with younger men.”
    “Yeah,” Mokey said. “She a cougar.”
    “And where’s Reece Daughtry?”
    “I have no idea,” Dana said. “Obviously, he’s not here, and you’d have a hard time proving he has been.”
    Belue grabbed Dana’s arm and yanked her toward the door. “We’ll see about that, little lady.” He shot a glare at Frank. “I’ll be back to get you, old man.”
    “Better make it fast, Irishman,” Frank said. “I won’t be here long.”

Chapter