No More Tears In The End

“I was scared of him, but Shameka liked him. She thought he was cute,” light eyes said, and Shameka took a playful swing at her.

“Tasheka?”

“What? You was always talkin’ ’bout what a cutie he was.”

“Yeah, but he don’t need to know all that,” Shameka said. “I’ll go get Al for you.”

“So you want somethin’ to eat, somethin’ to drink?” Tasheka asked. “I guess since we supposed to treat you like Freeze, everything is free. You can have anything you want,” she said with her arms open as Al Harris came rushing out of the back. “Chicken is fresh out the fryer and I just made the lemonade.”

“Lemonade sounds good, but don’t put a lot of ice in it.”

Tasheka smiled at me and went to get the lemonade.

“Mr. Simmons. I’m Al Harris, I’m the manager here,” he said nervously. He was an older gentleman, in his late fifties maybe.

“Call me Nick,” I said and shook his hand.

“What can I do to help you?”

“I wanted to talk you about the robbery and the people that got shot here.”

“I was in the back, so I didn’t see what happened. I told the police that. Tasheka and Shameka were both working; they can tell you what happened.”

“I notice that you have cameras, do you have a recording of it?”

“Yes, sir. You could look at it in the back or I could make you a copy.”

“Why don’t you go ahead and make me a copy while I talk to the ladies. I’ll look at the video after that,” I told Al and he rushed off.

“So tell me what happened.”

“Well, I was workin’ the register and Tasheka was gettin’ the food when they came in.”

“Where were the two people that got killed?” I asked.

“Right where you’re standing,” Tasheka said.

“Go on.”

“They walked straight up here, pulled their guns, and one said give me all the money,” Shameka said.

“The other one stepped up and shot them,” Tasheka added.

“What did they look like?”

“They were both dark-skinned. They both had on baseball hats, dark glasses and black scarves, so I couldn’t see their faces,” Tasheka told me.

“But one of them, the one that shot those people, had dreads,” Shameka said.

“What happened then?”

“I gave them what was in the drawer which was nothing but a hundred and fifty dollars.”

“Good thing they didn’t go in the back ’cause Al had just came and got the money out the register. They probably woulda killed him too.”

“Did either of the people say or do anything before they shot them?” I asked.

“Nope,” Shameka said. “They was just standin’ there waitin’ to make an order. I was gettin’ the money; they didn’t have to kill those people.”