Cheaper to Keep Her Part 3 (6 page)

Walking outside to the car I thought about the phone call I had just gotten. Curiosity tore me apart on the inside. I wanted to know who was on the other end so I contemplated dialing the number back. When the possibility of it being Keisha’s dumb ass came to mind, I knew not to waste my precious time. It wouldn’t surprise me if she had gotten my number out of Bishop’s cell phone this morning. I knew one thing, if I found out it was her, she and I were going to have some serious problems and there wouldn’t be a happy ending.

Back at the apartment, Bishop was nowhere in sight. I searched the entire place and I ended up with nothing. The thought of feeling stupid engulfed me and I became livid instantly. The grocery bag containing his fucking cigarette lighter, sandwich bags, baking soda, a two-liter Pepsi and plastic cups were tossed on the kitchen table the moment I entered the kitchen. I couldn’t hold my composure. I had to get Bishop on the phone and blast his ass for sending me on a dummy run to the fucking supermarket to get him some shit he didn’t need and then leave before I got back. What kind of inconsiderate shit was that?

I wasted no time getting Bishop’s ass on the phone. His phone rang twice before he answered it. “What’s up?” he said.

I didn’t want to come off strong or cause an argument, but I knew my tone had to be stern. I needed to let him know that I didn’t appreciate the way he played me. “Are you coming back to the house?” I asked him.

“Yeah, later. Why?”

“Because you sent me to the store to get those things you had on the list but when I came back you weren’t even here,” I replied. I sighed so he’d know that I was more frustrated than angry.

“I had to make a quick run. But I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Yeah, a’ight,” I said as I ended the call.

I stormed out of the kitchen after I hung up with Bishop. The fact that he had no regard for my feelings made my blood boil and I felt the need to do some more snooping. There was something he was trying to hide from me and the only two things that came to mind was money or dope. Bishop didn’t know me that well. I was going to find out which one it was.

The first place I searched was the bathroom. I took the lid off the back of the toilet, I looked underneath the sink in the bathroom, I searched through all the contents of the cosmetic drawers and then I looked through the dirty clothes hamper. Shit, nothing. I found absolutely nothing.

The next place I searched was the hall closet. Bishop had a few boxes of his things stacked on top of each other, but I didn’t touch them. I could tell he hadn’t moved them. I could also tell he hadn’t moved the two storage containers stacked on the shelf and since I knew there weren’t any secret storage place inside the closet I closed the door and headed into my bedroom.

From the moment I crossed the threshold into my room, I could tell that Bishop had been in here. The mattress on my bed was moved. I could tell because the flat sheet was no longer tucked completely between the mattress and box spring. I learned in jail how to make and tuck your sheets the way the military does, which was exactly the way I had it before I left the apartment. I rushed over to that side of the bed and struggled to lift up the king size mattress. I grunted, struggling to hold up the mattress while looking to see if Bishop hid money or dope under the big ass mattress.

When I realized he hadn’t, I let that heavy ass mattress go and watched it as it flopped back down on the box spring. I was breathing really hard because I was tired. That mattress was heavier than I thought. But that didn’t stop me from continuing my search. I stood by the bed and wondered why the mattress was moved when there was nothing out of place but the sheets? Then it hit me. Bishop wanted me to find the bed messed up to throw me off track. I kind of smiled inside. That motherfucker didn’t trust me and that was cool with me. I wasn’t going to disappoint him. So I continued my search.

I began to look around the room. The thing I noticed was my perfume bottles on the dresser were moved. I always positioned them three inches apart from each other and I made sure all the bottles were faced forward. Now they weren’t the way I left them. I rushed towards my dresser because the only reason Bishop would have to rearrange my perfume bottles were because they fell down. And the only reason they would fall down was because he opened up one of the three drawers on the right side.

I didn’t waste another second as I opened the top dresser drawer that stored my socks and footies and noticed he hadn’t stuck or tried to hide anything in there. Next, I opened the second drawer with all my bras and panties in them and realized he hadn’t hid any money or drugs in there either. For some reason, I knew my bottom drawer might be the hideaway spot I was looking for, because it stored all my lingerie and I had a lot of that.

Before I opened up the last dresser draw I noticed my heart was beating faster than normal. I couldn’t tell you whether it was my adrenaline rushing or because I feared the possibility of Bishop walking in here and catching me looking for his stuff. Whatever it was, I knew I knew I needed to get a handle on it and take care of my business.

“Come on, Lynise, let’s find Bishop’s stash,” I said out loud to give myself that extra push. I needed the self-motivation.

Immediately after I pulled the drawer open, I noticed that none of my lingerie had been moved out of place and I was completely bummed out. I was literally disappointed when I realized I hit yet another brick wall.

I sat back on my legs and racked my brain trying to figure out whether or not Bishop sent me out of the apartment so he could hide his shit. And if that was the case, where in the hell was it?

Frustrated by walking into another dead end, I pushed the drawer back in place and to my surprise it wouldn’t go all the way back in. What the hell? The light popped on in my head. Immediately, I knew something was keeping me from shutting the drawer properly and it had to be something that Bishop had placed there.

I pulled the drawer back out and when it was completely pulled out, I was stunned to find a gray package taped to the bottom of my drawer. The package was half the size of an iPad but it was thick in width, which explained why it jammed the drawer when I tried to push it back in place. With the entire drawer in my hand I turned it upside down to smell it, but the scent was completely blocked. Whoever wrapped this thing up definitely knew what they were doing.

Since I had nothing to go on but assumptions, I figured it couldn’t be anything else but a block of heroin or coke. I wanted to pry it open to see exactly what it was, but I didn’t think I’d be able to wrap it back up the way that I found it. So I left well enough alone. Either way I looked at it, it was worth a pretty penny.

I continued to inspect the package when all of a sudden the doorbell rang. I nearly jumped out of my damn skin. I didn’t know whether to put the drawer back or ignore whoever was at the door. But when the doorbell rang two more times, my heart fell into the pit of my stomach as I shoved the drawer back into the dresser and stood on my feet.

“Oh my God! Who could that be?” I mumbled underneath my breath as I tried to make sense of what was going on around me.

“Oh my God! It could be the fucking police coming in here to raid the place,” I panicked. “I swear, I can’t lie down and let them lock me up behind another nigga’s dope. Hell nah! I can’t let it go down like that. And especially after the way he’s been treating me lately. I’d be a damn fool.” I don’t know why I was tripping or why I went in panic mode. I was hoping to calm down as I tiptoed my way towards the front door.

DING! DONG! DING! DONG! Chimed the doorbell. Whoever it was on the other side of the door, made it pretty obvious that they weren’t leaving until I answered the damn door. My heart rate continued to climb with each second that passed. And then the unexpected happened, “Lynise, open the door. It’s me Sean,” I heard the familiar voice yell out.

Relieved that it wasn’t Bishop or the cops trying to come in, I raced towards the door with a newfound sense of joy. Hearing Sean’s voice felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. From the moment I opened the front door everything seemed blissful.

“What took you so long to answer the door?” he wanted to know.

“And who gave you the balls to ring my door bell? Do you know you’re playing with fire?” I commented.

“If you’re talking about your man, I saw him when he hopped into his ride and jetted down the block about five minutes before you came back.”

Cheaper to Keep Her part 3 Unique

I Need More Proof – Chapter Six

Relentlessly thinking of ways to catch Bishop with his pants down, gave me an appetite, so I took Sean up on his dinner offer. But it was only under the condition that we drove in separate cars. He agreed and so it was settled. I wanted to change into something more casual but with a sexy twist. However, I decided against it. I would have had a lot of explaining to do to Bishop if he came back to the apartment and waited for me to return, only to see that I changed attire. It would be World War III up in this apartment. And I wasn’t in the mood for any of that drama.

It was Sean’s idea for us to dine at this Italian restaurant about twenty miles across town. It was also his idea to select our entrée. I thought it was romantic and gave him the green light. The waiter poured us a glass of red wine while Sean started a warm conversation with me.

I looked at him closely as he told me how long it had been since he had been in a serious relationship. The way he licked his lips and looked me directly in the eyes, spoke volumes to me. I was sure this was his normal way of communicating with women, but there was something else about him. I couldn’t quite put my fingers on it but I vowed to figure it out before the night was over.

While he and I talked, my Blackberry rang. I looked down at the caller ID but the number was blocked, so I ignored the call and pressed the END button. Several seconds passed and my phone rang again. I figured it was the same caller, because the number was blocked again.

“Sounds like someone is really trying to contact you,” Sean commented.

“They don’t want to get in contact with me that bad by blocking their number,” I replied.

“Maybe they don’t know their number is being blocked. I saw on TV that some cell phones do that because of minor glitches in cell phone towers.”

I thought about what Sean said, but by the time it registered, my phone stopped ringing. “Oh well, I guess I’ll never know who it was,” I commented, and before I stuffed my Blackberry back into my handbag, it started ringing again.

I became alarmed by the woman’s voice. “What did you say?” I asked, hoping I could get a clear understanding of what I had just heard. “Who is this?” I continued, also hoping the caller would identify herself. Unfortunately, the call was disconnected.

Immediately panic-stricken, I held my phone in my hand and looked directly at Sean, who by this time had started eating his food.

“What happened?” he asked, after swallowing his food.

“I’m not sure,” I began to explain. “Right after I said hello, I heard a woman’s voice say ‘help me.’ But when I asked her who she was, the phone hung up.”

“If you sat back and thought about it, do you think you’ll be able to recognize her voice if you heard it again?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, as I began to wrap my mind around the entire phone call. The thought of someone calling me and asking me to help them and then hang up seemed rather spooky.

“Can you think of anyone you know that could possibly be in trouble?” Sean pressed the issue.

“No, not really. I mean, I’ve only had this number since I’ve been here in Jersey and the only people who has it is the guy I mess with, who put me in that place, a couple of boys that work for him and his sister. Other than that, I couldn’t really say.”

“I hope I’m not putting too much into what I’m about to say, but I haven’t spoken to his sister in a couple days now and when I went by the salon earlier, the lady she works for said she hadn’t been to work in two days. So, what if that was her on the phone asking me to help her?”

“Hold up. Let’s not jump to conclusions. There’s probably a good explanation why his sister isn’t at work. For all we know she could be out of town or hanging out with her boyfriend.”