Wifey 4 Life Read Online Free Page A

ass for being an accessory to her murder. Not only that, if they had the slightest
    inclination that I knew the motherfuckers who actually killed her, they would use
    it against me and try to get me to rat them out. Now how the hell would that look?
    I would be right back in fucking court testifying against another set of foreigners.
    And those African cats seemed like they were a little crazier than Papi and his
    boys. So I might not have the luxury of getting away this time.
    And what made the shit even worse was that I wouldn’t be able
    to get back into the Witness Protection Program. When I’d elected to leave that
    nest the last time, I’d forfeited my chances of ever hiding under its umbrella again.
    So if these assholes thought I was gonna start singing like a bird for the second
    time around, they had another think coming. I was going to play the I-don’t-know-shit
    card and see how far that took me.
    “Your cousin Nikki was murdered,” the fat detective replied.
    Thinking about the pain Nikki suffered before she was murdered by Bintu’ wasn’t
    enough to bring me to tears. With all the unnecessary drama I went through behind
    her, I could honestly say that she got what she deserved.
    I immediately thought about the loss of my grandmother. This
    was the only way I knew I could get emotional. “Oh my God! When did this happen?”
    I asked.
    The other detective cleared this throat and said, “We found her
    decomposed body in an abandoned building two and a half weeks ago, but we just
    found out a couple of days ago who she was. If it wasn’t for her parents reporting
    her missing and then coming here to ID her body, we wouldn’t have known who she
    was.”
    “What happened to her?”
    “The forensic report states that she was shot in the head at
    close range.”
    “No, that can’t be. Are you sure it’s her?” I became panicked.
    “Yes, we’re sure it’s her. We used her dental records to get
    a positive ID.”
    “Oh my God! Who could have done this to her?” I screamed.
    “We were hoping you would be able to answer that question for
    us,” the fat detective chimed in.
    I sat there wearing an expression of despair. Tears fell from
    my eyes like a running faucet as both detectives examined my body language. About
    ten seconds later, I covered my entire face with both my hands while I cried
    uncontrollably. I knew I had to keep up this act. My freedom depended on it.
    The fat detective handed me a couple of napkins to dry my tears.
    I took them and began to wipe my face. The moment I looked up at him, he threw another
    question at me.
    “When was the last time you spoke to Nikki?”
    I sat there and pondered for fear of fucking up and giving him
    the wrong answer. I didn’t want it to seem like I was the last person that talked
    to her. So I thought carefully and then I said, “I’m not sure.”
    “Can you give me a more precise answer than that?”
    “I don’t remember. Shit, I’ve been away in Anguilla for a little
    over a month now.”
    “Well, did you speak with her while you were in Anguilla?”
    “No.”
    “And why not?” His question cut like a sharp knife. “Were you
    two on speaking terms?”
    “Of course we were,” I snapped back.
    “Well, if you two were on speaking terms, why hadn’t you tried
    to contact her in almost a month?”
    “I tried to call her, but she wouldn’t answer her phone. I figured
    she had fallen in love with a man and wanted to be left alone.”
    “That’s bullshit, and you know it!” the fat detective roared.
    “I spoke with two women who used to work for you at your salon, and they told me
    a completely different story.”
    “Who?”
    “Rachael and Carmen.”
    “I don’t care what they told you. Everything that comes out of
    their mouths is nothing but lies.”
    “Well, they were both interviewed simultaneously by two different
    detectives, yet they still came up with the exact same story.”
    “And what story was that?” I asked,