Devilish Details Read Online Free

on another
handsome gangbanger, one from her own past and with a sexy, silky
Spanish accent. Filipe Perez had been her lover of the moment four
years earlier, but Jazz didn’t remember Brandon Wilks. Not that she
knew all of his thug life associates. Like Rasheed, Filipe was in
prison. Jazz hadn’t kept in touch, mainly because she’d helped put
him there.
    “Damn, Rasheed. You crazier than I thought
you was,” Tyretta said and stood up.
    Chyna knocked though the door was halfway
open. “Hey, I wanna take a break, Ty. Not many guys out there, so
you won’t be running your legs off. Sorry, Jazz.”
    “We’ll pick up by Friday or Saturday,” Jazz
said, her thoughts not on the small crowd or weekend.
    “Okay, I’m comin”, Tyretta replied and waved
to her. When Chyna left, Tyretta turned back to Jazz. “So you know
that guy what got shot after all?”
    “I’m not sure. Maybe I can find out though.
Bet my pain in the ass sister can tell me but not before I have to
hear a long lecture. Guess I’m going to put up with her smart mouth
kids and crazy aunts.”
    “Quit frontin’, ‘cuz you love those kids.”
Tyretta had a distracted expression as though her thoughts were
elsewhere. “You’re lucky to have a place where you’re welcome.”
    “Yeah, whatever,” Jazz retorted with snort.
She sent a text message to Willa accepting the Sunday dinner
invitation and asking for a favor. Then she plotted out making time
to do some of her own research.
     
     
     

Chapter 2
     
     
    “Well at least she closes that den of
iniquity on Sundays,” Aunt Ametrine said in her usual judgmental
stage whisper, knowing full well the subject of her criticism could
hear her. She looked at Willa’s daughter Mikayla. “Pass me the
peas, baby.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” Mikayla complied and then
glanced at her seventeen-year-old brother. “What’s a den of
iniquity?”
    Anthony lost his look of bored distraction,
the expression he used around his elders. His brown eyes twinkled.
“That means Aunt Jazz operates a place where it ain’t nothin’ but a
part-ee, part-ee. Get down and part-ee,” he sang the words while
bobbing his head.
    “Hey! Ain’t nothin’ but a part-ee,” Mikayla
joined in with gusto. She dropped her fork and waved her hands in
the air like the popular hip hop artists her mother disliked.
    “Heh-heh,” Papa Elton grinned at their
antics but wiped it from his face at the dirty looks from his wife
and Willa.
    “Stop that,” Mama Ruby said, her voice
sharper than a steak knife.
    “Ahem, yes ma’am,” Anthony replied and
shushed his baby sister. Still, he wore the remnant of a smirk.
    “Yes, Mama Ruby,” Mikayla answered
dutifully.
    Willa spread her squint of disapproval from
her adoptive father to her son. “Daddy, don’t encourage them. Y’all
have been watching those old blaxploitation movies from the
seventies too much.”
    “I like the funk,” Anthony offered. He
smothered a laugh when Aunt Ametrine slapped a hand on her
chest.
    “Lord have mercy, the things these young
people say,” Aunt Ametrine huffed in true church lady fashion.
    Papa Elton cocked a thick black eyebrow at
her. “Oh calm down, Ametrine. Funk is a music genre from back in
the day. You ought to know. You was on the dance floor with the
rest of us at The Spot back in the seventies. Remember? Yeah, your
favorite group was the P-Funk All Stars. You was dating that guy
Junior Patin and--”
    “Yes, and I changed my life around for the
better,” Aunt Ametrine cut him off. She patted her face with a
napkin. “Praise Jesus for his grace and mercy. Beryl, wasn’t the
choir in fine form at worship this morning?”
    Willa’s Aunt Beryl blinked at her sister in
surprise. “Um, yes indeed. Sister Carter’s niece has a beautiful
voice.”
    The conversation shifted to topics more
comfortable for Aunt Ametrine. Willa’s kids joked as they helped
her clear the table. At Willa’s urging, the older adults agreed to
have dessert in