What’s next
Excerpts from Tennessee Plates
Elvin Suggs returns to Memphis to wind up his past. But, when Shelby Swain, a glamorous country music singer, turns his head and his heart, Elvin wants to forget the past. Shelby agrees. But…her past may impossible to forget.
CHAPTER ONE
El Gallo Loco
Banos de Mujeres
Tijuana, Mexico
2:35 am
Their voices were soft and mean. Shelby knew the two could go together—like the cold blade of the cuchillo that caressed her throat when they demanded dinero.
She heard the screams before the gunshot. Now, she heard her name.
“Donde esta la rubia? Kimmy! Kimmy Cruz!”
She felt so nauseous. Was she pregnant? Almost certainly. Through the open window above the sink, the darkness waited. Could she squeeze through it? A putrid odor poisoned the air. She gagged; bile rose in her throat. She choked and swallowed, swallowed and choked. A single sound would expose her.
The footsteps grew louder, closer.
“Kimmy! Donde esta? Dinero, Kimmy! Donde esta?”
Alone in the moonlight, her trembling fingers grasped the slick porcelain sink, inch by inch, then gripped at the ledge below the window.
Behind her, the doorknob rattled. “Abre la pinche puerta!” Gunshots pierced the flimsy door.
Scraped and scratched, Shelby clawed her way into the darkness. Like the other times, she had no choice.
TWO MONTHS LATER
Shelby nestled into the tired mattress and pressed the receiver to her ear. Like hot fudge on French vanilla, his voice melted her soul. “Hi, Leonard. Yeah, I was sleeping. I don’t know. Ask me.” She giggled. “Maybe. But, I sing tonight, you know that.”
She fumbled on the nightstand for her cigarettes. She couldn’t think without one or two or… All she knew was, when Leonard called, she liked to talk. “Yeah baby, that sounds good, and Leonard… I need a loan.” She sucked on the cigarette and inhaled, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. “C’mon Leonard, you know I’ll pay you back, so if that’s what… Yeah, I know Dr. Morton. I like him too. A lot. What do you mean? Like it’s any of your business.”
“If you don’t want to do their pre-nup, just tell them. Dr. Morton asked me if I knew a good lawyer, and of course, I know you, and… Okay, so blame me if the marriage blows up. I don’t have a crystal ball, I don’t know if they’re going to make it. I don’t know anything about her at all.
She swung her long legs over the edge of the bed and padded into the kitchen. A black silk kimono clung to her curves; the cigarette dangled from the corner of her mouth. “Look Leonard, I need a few thousand, that’s all. The job at the Humboldt is on hold for now. Well, if you want to see me, I’ll be at The Lounge tonight – Maurice’s place – you know, the club over on Greer Street. My break is around ten o’clock. Come to my dressing room, next to the kitchen. Yeah, the kitchen. Baby, I am not Barbra Streisand. I’m lucky to have anything. Yeah. Me too. Bye.”
The Lounge by Maurice
10:30 pm
The place felt like a worn dishrag. Perched on a bar stool, Shelby sipped a diet cola and winced. The tart, tangy taste lingered in her mouth. Smoky haze blurred the faces. Where was Leonard? The back door cracked and closed, and a long, hunk of finesse appeared. There. There he was.
When Leonard slipped through a door, women—all of them—noticed. Denzel and Samuel L., his easy smile telegraphed edgy allure. “Shelby!” he said, his mouth curled in a devilish grin. His lips grazed her fingertips. “My lady.” A tailored suit draped his toned body; his tapered fingers sported a ring with a diamond encrusted “L”.
Shelby took a deep breath and grinned. Remembered the good times, baby, and there were lots. Kept her coming back for more, too. “Talk fast, Leonard. My break’s almost over…”
“You know I’m a fast talker, baby. I’m late ‘cause I was looking for your dressing room. Like you said, next to the kitchen. I asked Stockpot back there about your dressing room, and oh boy, did he laugh. What gives?”
“My dressing room is a closet. Maurice lets me use it to change costumes. It’s a joke, but this place isn’t my forever. Someday—you’ll see, Leonard—I’ll sing in Vegas. She glanced at her rhinestone-studded watch. “What I need is a break. A big, fat break. So, why did you want to talk to me? You getting married again? What’s she like?”
Leonard leaned on the Formica table. His elbow nudged an ashtray and he smirked. “No, I am not getting married again.” He lowered his voice and glanced over his shoulder. “Shelby, yesterday this dude came into my office.” He shook his head. “Said you referred him. I need to know the truth.”
“What’s his name?”
“I’ll get to that in a minute. First, don’t refer people to me without asking. Cool?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Looks like your dude’s in a lot of trouble.”
“So, don’t take the case.”
“Oh, but I just might. There’s a lot of money involved, and one of my favorite ex-wives needs a loan.”
“Look, if you don’t want to loan me the money…”
“I’m kidding. Actually, this client intrigues me. He claims he was your boyfriend for awhile – which frankly, Shelby, disgusts me.”
“Give it up. Who is he?”
“Does the name Ronald Jupiter mean anything? Tell me it doesn’t, Shelby.”
Ronald Jupiter. The name blistered her ears. She never discussed Leonard with Ronnie…did she? Maybe once, or not…she really couldn’t remember. “Look Leonard, after our divorce, I…well, I got into a few things, here and there…it was bad for awhile. Hey, don’t look at me like that. I’m clean now.”
“Shelby, Shelby.” Leonard glanced at the dance floor and shook his head. “What was it? Money troubles again? Don’t tell me you…”
“Look Leonard, I don’t want to discuss it. Anyway, there’s nothing I can do about it now. I wasn’t perfect, you always knew that. You asked if I was with Ronnie. Okay, yeah, I was, for a while. And now, I’m not. So, what did he do?”
“He says he didn’t do anything.” Leonard laughed. “My clients…He shook his head. “They all say that. Frankly, he’s wanted for murder. His alibi shakes like a jitterbug. Myself, I think the cops are looking for a reason to put him away. They don’t like him. If you ask me, they have a good chance…”
“Are you going to take the case?”
“Haven’t decided yet. Money-wise, it might be worth it, but…”
“Leonard, look at me. Ron Jupiter is a cold-eyed shark. Ask anyone. He’d slit his mother’s throat for fifty bucks, maybe less. If you take this case, you can’t trust him or anything he says.
“He’s willing to pay my going rate, whatever I decide that might be for a case of his…what’s the best word? Complexity. A case of his complexity. I assume he has the ability to do that.”
“Look Leonard, I’ve got to get back to work now. Don’t know if I’ll be working at the Humboldt Inn much longer.”
“But you love that place—why, I can’t say.” Leonard winked and flashed his diamond ring. ” I just want to know one thing.”
“I already told you too much. Now what?”
“How did he find you?”
“Ronnie wasn’t looking for me, Leonard. He was looking for you.”
Leonard chuckled, but didn’t laugh. “You sure about that?”
The tiny hairs on her arms raised. How did Ronnie find her? “Did you tell him where I was?”
“Me? Of course not. For one thing, I didn’t believe you were with him. I mean, ever. Look, I don’t know what our Mr. Jupiter did or didn’t do, but, if he becomes my client, I’ll have to defend him; for a price, of course. Everyone has one. Remember that.” Leonard winked. “You’re looking good, babe.”
“Thanks. Want to stay for the show?”
Leonard’s lip quivered, the way it always did when he got nervous. “Can’t,” he finally said. “I’ve got a date. Oh, and the loan is cool. I’ll call you.”
“Yeah.” Shelby smiled.
“Got to go. It’s time for you to sing. I just wanted to check out this Jupiter guy. Glad I did. I’ll be in touch.”
Shelby watched Leonard hustle through the maze of bodies. Backstage, a familiar voice shattered her reverie.
“Swain! Two minutes!”
The ripe scent of his cologne wafted into the musty air. Maurice approached her, a beer bottle clenched in his meaty fist. “You’re up, Swain. The best expects the best.” He chugged a slurp from the amber bottle and belched. “Move!”
“Love you too, Maurice.” She balanced on the platform heels and fluffed her platinum hair. Her lips smiled, but her tongue tasted the bitter poison of Ronnie’s name. His sleazy face flashed into her mind; once again, she winced. Two years passed since she left Ronnie Jupiter. She never looked back, until now; and now, she was afraid to look.
The Grapevine Detective Agency
The following morning
The muscular man rose from the floor and exhaled. Fifty pushups completed his morning exercise routine. After his morning run and exercises, he felt ready to tackle his day. “Hey, Vanna girl, how ‘bout you and me go get ourselves some breakfast?”
The fuzzy Airedale stared at Elvin Suggs, her master of eight years. In her eyes, there was no one else on earth like him. Dimond Redding, his best friend’s widow, would agree. When Elvin’s wife, Cherie, left him two years ago, he called Di for advice. She knew him better than he knew himself.
“Elvin,” she said, “I thought you said you were going to Memphis today.”
For a moment, Elvin remained silent. He pursed his lips and gazed at Vanna. “I am.”
“Okay. I just thought you wanted to get an early start.”
“Sure. What time is it?”
“It’s already after eight o’clock.”
“We’ll be out of your way in a jiffy, won’t we Vanna?”
“El, what’s wrong? You’re not acting like yourself.”
Elvin flopped on the worn sofa. “I don’t exactly know, Di. Guess it’s just the idea of closing on that itty bitty house I bought with Cherie all those years back.”
“I thought you said you’d be glad to wrap up all of that business in Memphis and move on.”
“I did. I am. It’s just…I don’t know. I wish I had better business to wrap up, that’s all. I didn’t do such a good job in the husband department, did I?”
Di didn’t want to delve into the tumultuous past that surrounded Elvin’s divorce, much less Cherie’s murder. Better to change the subject. “Do you want me to go with you?”
“No. I’ll be up and back in no time. C’mon Vanna.”
Di watched her old friend lumber towards his bedroom. His shoulders slumped. His feet dragged. “You sure you don’t want any company?”
“Nope. Gotta do this one on my own.”
