No More Tears In The End

“Do you know where?”

“No. Just that she worked out there.”

“Do you know if she was involved with drugs or anybody that sells drugs?”

“If she did, she never said anything about it. And I can tell you for sure, when you got a baller on the hook, you tell everybody.”

“Even if it ruined her good-girl image?”

Dee laughed when I said good girl. “Zakiya was cool, and I don’t think she was rollin’ with no ballers, but good girl-I don’t think so.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Good girls don’t fuck married men.”

“Do you know who this married man was?”

“No, she never would tell us what his name was or what he did. Just that he was married and had enough paper to take good care of her.”

“But you’re sure it wasn’t a baller?”

“Sure? No. But Zakiya didn’t have no heart for drugs. She never said why she was so against it, but she was. Her feeling that way, I seriously doubt that she would get involved with somebody like that.”

“Thanks for your help.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why you keep asking me about this drug thing?”

“Cops say her murder was drug related. Her grandmother doesn’t believe it.”

“Neither do I,” Dee said and started to get out of the car.

“Where can I find you if I have anymore questions?”

Dee dug around in her purse for some paper and something to write with. She wrote down her number and handed it to me. “You can call me anytime; whether you got questions or not.”

Chapter 8

I decided to go by Paradise Fish and Chicken. On the way there I called Wanda’s personal assistant to find out who the manager of Paradise was. She told me that his name was Al Harris, and she offered to call ahead so he would be expecting me.

The place was crowded when I got there, so I took a seat and waited for them to clear the line before I approached the two ladies behind the counter. While I waited I noticed the security cameras behind the counter and another one in the dining area. I wondered if they had a recording.

Once the line was gone,

I stepped to the counter. “Hello, ladies. Is Al Harris here?”

“You must be Nick Simmons,” one of the ladies said. She had light, almost blonde braided hair and light eyes, neither of which appeared to be her own.

“That’s right.”

“Al said we should be nice to you,” light eyes said.

“Said we should treat you like we treated Freeze,” the other said.

“How did you treat Freeze?”