Wifey: Part 1

“You know what? I’d rather not because I don’t know what the hell is going on.”

The detective nodded his head. He reached inside his pocket and handed me his card. “Can you give that to Mr. Carter and tell him to give me a call?”

I looked at the detective’s card and nodded my head, answering his question.

“Thank you. Sorry to disturb you so early. You have a good day,” the detective said to me, and him and his beefy muscular partner turned and walked off to their unmarked car and left.

After I locked the front door, I went up to the kitchen, grabbed the home cordless phone, and dialed Nico.

Nico didn’t pick up. I kept calling him repeatedly for ten minutes straight, and he still didn’t pick up.

“This is what I can’t take!” I said out loud to myself.

I opened up the refrigerator, got a bagel, and put it in the toaster. While I waited for it to finish toasting, I picked up the home phone, and again I started to blow up Nico’s phone. And still I got no answer. I refused to leave a message that he wasn’t going to even listen to.

After my bagel finished toasting, I put some butter on it and a little bit of jelly, and I put it on a small plate and took it upstairs to my bedroom, where I started to eat it. I grabbed my cell phone and called Nico, and he still wouldn’t pick up. I took another bite of my bagel. I was about to slam my cell phone down, but I maintained my composure and sent him a text message.

I’m not calling you about our spa appointment if that’s why you are ignoring my calls. Just trying to tell you a detective was just here at the house. CALL ME!

After I sent that message I finished eating my bagel and then I went back downstairs to my kitchen and put the dish in the sink and poured myself some orange juice. Just as I took a sip of the orange juice, I heard my doorbell ringing again.

When I went to open the door, I saw the security guard standing there.

“Nico wants to speak to you,” he said and handed me a cell phone.

“What?” I shook my head as I took hold of the phone. “Hello?” I said.

“Mia, what’s up?” Nico asked, sounding a bit nervous.

“What do you mean, what’s up? Why do you never pick up your phone? I’m so tired of that, Nico!”

Nico was quiet for a moment, and then he asked, “A cop was at the crib?”

“Not a cop. Two cops were just here looking for you. And that’s what you care about, right? Fuck me and fuck our spa date that we had. It’s all about you.”

“Mia, I’m sorry, a’ight?”

“No, it ain’t a’ight! Sorry don’t keep me safe and warm at night. And sorry don’t make up for all your broken promises and lack of attention.”

Nico shouted into the phone, “Mia, you know I’m out here scrambling. I’m handling business. I ain’t out here bullshitting!”

I kept quiet because there was nothing else really for me to say.

“Now what did the cop say?”

I sighed and sucked my teeth. “He said that they had your prints on spent shell casings that were found at a crime scene in Queens and that they wanted to speak to you about it. I didn’t answer none of their questions and when they saw that they were annoying me, they gave me their card to give to you and then they left.”

“What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry,” I said to the security guard, who was standing there the entire time, since it was his cell phone that me and Nico were talking on. I was sure that Nico didn’t want to use his phone or call me on the house phone out of fear that those phones were tapped.

“You said they left you a card? What does it say?” Nico asked.

I walked over and retrieved the card from on top of the fireplace mantle where I had placed it.

“It says, ‘Detective Peter Schwartz, NYPD Homicide Division 103rd Precinct,’ and it has his contact numbers on it.”

“Homicide?” Nico asked out loud. “What the fuck is that about?”