They denied Corey and Xavier bond. I didn’t sleep much while they were locked up. I had too much on my mind. Corey? He loved Roy, Xavier’s cousin, like a brother. That was true. And Lil Merc had killed Roy on some hoe shit, standing outside of his house, washing his car with his brother. The masked gunmen shot him in front of his kids. They had been playing inside the car. Everybody knew Roy’s people would punish Lil’ Merc for doing what he did, how he did it. After all, who else would seek any justice for him?
So, I knew Corey and Xavier had done it, some way or somehow. Whether Corey was the shooter, the driver, or the police had it all wrong, which was likely, and they hadn’t been there at all and simply sent the hit instead.
I decided to call Jazz. She was the only person who could understand what I was feeling. There was a lead weight in my stomach. Corey and Xavier could go away for a long time. More people could get killed if that happened. Who knew how far they were going to take it, maybe I or Jazz would too. The police would dig some shit up from years ago and make it part of a decade long conspiracy.
Jazz and I hadn’t talked much in months. Not since Corey and Xavier fell out. She wanted to go eat beignets, get some air. It was a good idea. Sitting in Café du Monde felt nostalgic. Like so many nights after school dances, football games, then bars and clubs when we got older. Somehow the scenery made the blow of what she had to tell me softer.
“They have a witness, Kalo.”
“Who is it Jazz?”
“Marv , girl.”
“Who?”
“Marv, the man that owns Bottoms and Tops. You know it happened in the parking lot. They saying that he saw Xavier hit Roy with the car and that Corey got out and shot him. Did you hear about the tape?”
“Tape!?”
“Lower your voice, Kalo. Believe, they watching and listening. Xavier’s lawyers showed it to me. You can’t tell who it is shooting. It’s just a tall dude in a hoodie and jeans. Doesn’t look like Corey to me, to be honest.”
“This is a bunch of bullshit, Jazz.”
“You ain’t gotta tell me Kalo. These fuckers don’t give a fuck about Roy being dead. They want a RICO case. All I know is you get what’s coming to you, so I’m trying to chill.”
“What are they saying to Xavier? I haven’t talked to Corey, just through the lawyer.”
“They offered Xavier twenty-five years.”
“What did he say to that?”
“What you think Xavier Orlando St. Martin said? He said suck his dick, we going to trial. They’re going to spend their money if they want to lock my brother up. Crooked motherfuckers.”
“You think they did it, Jazz?”
I stared at Jazz, trying to figure out if she was going to level with me. I had gone to bed early that night. Asleep when Corey came home. Late. Jazz’s china-white skin shown in the moonlight, her hair the color of blood. She had been dyeing it that way for years.
“Doesn’t matter, Kalo. All I know is that this is a fucked up world and what goes around comes around. Fucking 5-0, Roy, Lil’ Merc, my brother, Corey. Who’s guilty? The last man standing?”
Kristina Kay Robinson 