Right as Rain

Quinn looked up. 'Sorry, man. I'm naturally nosy, I guess.'

Strange's eyes were pink and lazy. He folded his arms and leaned on the door frame.

'Why have a photo of Wilson's sister?' said Quinn.

'For the simple reason that I'm beginning to think Sondra Wilson's the key to this whole thing.'

'You talk to her?'

Strange shook his head. 'Gonna have to find her first. Her own mother doesn't know where she is. Sondra's a junkie, man, got a deep heroin jones. Been away from the house a long while now. Wilson was looking to hook up with her, maybe bring her back home, is what I think. And another thing I think is, on the night he was killed, Chris got a phone call had something to do with Sondra.'

Quinn dropped the photograph to the desktop. 'You think Ricky Kane had something to do with that?'

'I like your instincts, Terry.'

'Well, do you?'

'It crossed my mind.'

'You need to talk to Kane.'

'If he's involved, it won't do any good to talk to him. It would shut him up for real, and I got no kind of leverage. It might even hurt my chances of finding Sondra.'

'That's what you're looking to do now?'

'Yeah,' said Strange. 'Finish what Chris Wilson started. Bring her home.'

'Because you know you got nothing else for Leona Wilson, right? You know there was nothing deeper than what got put on the record about my involvement in the death of her son.'

'You tellin' me?'

'I'm asking you, Derek.'

'Look here, man.' Strange rubbed his cheeks and exhaled slowly. 'God damn, I am fucked up. Haven't smoked herb in years, you want the truth. Don't know why I did tonight. But I got to blame it on something, I guess.'

'Blame what?'

'The crazy thing I'm gettin' ready to ask you to do. See, my associate, Ron, he's gonna be busy next week. And I could use your help.'

'Name it.'

'A tail and surveillance on Ricky Kane, for starters. I was thinkin' Monday morning.'

'Tell me what time.'

'You don't even have a car.'

'I plan to go out tomorrow and buy one.'

'Just like that.'

'Gettin' tired of Juana chauffeuring me around.'

'Okay, then. I'll call you in the evening, let you know where we can meet.'

'Derek?'

'What?'

'This mean I'm off the hook?'

'Aw, shit,' said Strange, chuckling from deep in his gut. 'You're somethin', man.'

'I'm serious, Derek.'

'Okay.' Strange unfolded his arms. 'That hook you're talkin' about, you put yourself on it. You got to admit to yourself the reality of the situation. You got to free your own self, man.'

'You just said-'

'I said that I suspect there was something with Chris Wilson and his sister. That her lifestyle is what drove him to D Street that night. But you yourself admitted that Wilson was tryin' to tell you and your partner that he was a cop. He was screaming his badge number out to you, man, but you wouldn't listen.'

'Look-'

'You wouldn't listen. You saw a black man with a gun and you saw a criminal, and you made up your mind. Yeah, there was noise and confusion and lights, I know about all that. But would you have listened to him if he had been white? Would you have pulled that trigger if Wilson had been white? I don't think so, Terry. Cut through all the extra bullshit, and you're gonna have to just go ahead and admit it, man: you killed a man because he was black.'

Quinn stared into Strange's eyes. Quinn wanted to say more in his defense, but the words wouldn't come. He was certain that any words he could choose would be insufficient. How could a white man ever tell a black man that he wasn't that way without sounding self-serving or duplicitous?

They heard Janine's voice, calling them from the bottom of the stairs. Strange lowered his gaze to the floor.

'C'mon, Terry,' he said, his voice nearly a whisper. 'We better go.'

Quinn and Juana drove east to her row house on 10th. They went straight to her bedroom, where he stripped naked and undressed Juana from behind. He ran both hands up her inner thighs and slipped two fingers inside her. She arched her back and moaned as he pinched her swollen nipples. Then, very quickly, they were fucking on the bed, Juana on the edge of it with her calves resting on his shoulders, and Quinn thrusting with his feet still on the floor. It was fast and nearly violent; Juana came with a groaning howl. Quinn was right behind her, veins standing out on his forehead and neck. The bed had slid across the room, stopping when it hit the wall.

Quinn pulled out and slid Juana up to the center of the bed, putting a pillow under her head. They got beneath the blankets, holding a tight embrace, and what was left from them wet each other and the sheets. She stared up at him, not saying a word, her eyes saying everything. Soon she was breathing evenly. Her eyes fluttered, then closed completely, and she fell asleep.

Lionel Baker came home at one forty-five in the morning, nearly two hours past his curfew. Janine had been waiting in the living room, parting the curtains of the front window every few minutes to check for her son, as Strange sat patiently beside her. A Lexus finally pulled up on Quintana in front of her house, and when she saw her son emerge from the car, Janine said, 'Thank the Lord.'

Strange knew Lionel had been smoking herb, or doing something other than just drinking, as soon as he walked through the front door. Lionel's pupils were dilated, his movements awkward and slow. He didn't look his mother in the eye as he greeted them with a 'Hey' and tried to get past them and up the stairs without another word.

'Hold on a minute, Lionel,' said Janine.

'What is it?' he said, looking at her directly for the first time. He glanced at Strange, then back at his mother, and an impudent smile threatened to break on his face.

'Where you been, son?'

'Out with Ricky, just rollin', listenin' to music… Can't you just let me go up to my room for a change? You always be stressin' and shit.'

Janine rose up from her seat. 'Don't you be takin' a tone with me, young man. Me and Mr Derek been sitting up, worried that you were in some kind of trouble, or worse. And now you come walking in here late, lookin' all red-eyed-'

'How about y'all?'

'What?'

'Forget it, Mama,' said Lionel, with a wave of his hand. He turned and went up the stairs.

Janine froze for moment, then moved to follow her son. Strange took hold of her arm.

'Hold up, baby. I'll talk to him, all right?'

On the second floor of the house, Strange knocked on Lionel's closed door. Lionel did not respond. Strange turned the knob and walked inside the bedroom. Lionel was standing, looking through his window, which gave to a view of the street. Strange crossed the room and stood beside him. Lionel turned to face him.

'Lionel?'

'What?'

'You know your mother loves you, right?'

'Sure.'

'When she asks you where you been all night, it's just her way of lettin' off a little steam. She's been sittin' down in that living room, worried sick about you, for the last two hours, and you come through that door, she's got to give you a taste of what you been puttin' her through all night.'

'I know it. It's just… I'm nearly a man, Mr Derek. I don't need all these questions all the time, see what I'm sayin'?'

'While you're livin' under her roof, and she's payin' for that roof, it's something you're just gonna have to deal with.'

'And there goes Mama, tellin' me my eyes are lookin' red, when y'all look like you been smokin' cheeva your own selves.'

'We drank a few bottles of beer, tonight, that's all,' lied Strange. 'I don't know, maybe we had one too many, but we did have fun. I'm not gonna go and apologize for that, 'cause your mama deserves it, hard as she works. But I never did claim I was perfect, even when I was trying to warn you about all the ways you can mess your life up before you even get out of the gate. Now, I told you what I thought about you drivin' around in that fancy car, gettin' high. I still think you're setting yourself up for something that could affect you your whole life. And your life ain't even started, son.'