Chapter 2

Black walked in to the ‘Granite’ scratching the back of his head. He was beginning to feel the weight of the opportunity put in front of him. He couldn’t help but think they put him on this case just to make a fool out of him though. He would f**k it up some how and they’d have him in a uniform and hat writing parking tickets for the rest of his life, They would would make it impossible for him to cause any more damage. “A shot of Jager Manny,” Black said as he took a rounded yellow cushioned stool at the bar. Manny looked a Black and cracked a small crooked grin. “Okay Black,” he replied without hesitation and prepared his drink. Manny “Granite” Cooper was an 42 year old ex-boxer known for putting most opponents that were brave enough to get in the ring with him in the hospital. He was on pace to be one of the best in the world until he killed another man in the ring. Manny was never charged with murder but it changed him and it was the death of his boxing career. He in fact  never boxed again. He took his money and bought an old bar in a dead corner of the city. In a few years he changed the outlook of the entire block and that part of town was more profitable than it had been in 20 years. Black had actually been at the fight that night as a plain clothes undercover and had helped escort Manny and his crew to their locker room the infamous right hook. He had to shield bottles of beer, plates with half eaten food still on them, and bags of popcorn that rained down like hail. The screams and cursing from horrified fans was dispicable by all means. Black had given Manny comforting words when they finally got to the locker room and Manny always appreciated him for that. Before Waggin’s had even had to play hero for Black, it was Manny that was encouraging Black to get help.

Black sat there at the bar and stared at his shot of Jager. The sweet licorice taste Black loved was just a few inches away. The deadly sip that almost had his life and career in shambles. He wondered if one drink was enough to send him back down the rabbit hole. He could probably survive one drink he thought to himself. It was about self-control. Not letting it take you. Black continued to sit and examine his drink. The perspiration falling to bottom of the  shot glass onto the napkin. He had to convince himself he didn’t need it to do what he had to do. He had to find out now before he went any further. Could he resist temptation? Black knew he was good at his job. One of the best even. But he also knew he had earned his troubles and that he was most likely being set up for failure. None of that made it alright to fall off the wagon. “Thank you Manny,” Black said with confidence as he pushed away from the bar without having touched the shot glass. Manny nodded and smiled as he watched Black walk away with the look of a determined man in his eye. Black had passed his first self-test and was starting to feel up to the task laid in front of him. He knew he had to pull it together and get to work quickly, and he needed to poke around and ask the right questions to the right people. He had to find some dots to connect so he could piece together what was really going on. He stepped out into the parking lot and walked slowly to his car. He was very fond of his car. It was the second time he had owned an 87 Chrysler. The first time he owned it was the first time he owned a car. He had seen it when he was 16 sitting in a grass lot at car auto shop with $600 written on the windshield in gray chalk. He loved that car and he loved this one just as much. He had even named this one the same as the first one, Charlene.

Black pulled up to a tall 22 story building. It had been a while since he’d been to this to this particular place. It was known for being home to one of the largest law firms in the city but it had many other small business offices all throughout. One in particular on the 14th floor belonged to a person who, depending on the day, could be of service or interest. It was the office of Yvette Haymond, the biggest hair product and coke supplier for a 20 to 30 miles radius. Hers was a very special office that very few people were even allowed to get into and Black was not to thrilled to be heading in. It was a well known four room office known as The Square. The Square was where she did her big business for both empires. It was the perfect front. It was her own cooperate office with products to be sold in the front lobby and decked out with a complete hair dressing room. It was ingenious. Miss Yvette, as they called her, was a curvy, tough looking woman with long jet black hair covering a rounded face. She made her reputation by being fair and reasonable. She would give chances to work off a debt before ever thinking of killing them. But by chance some idiot didn’t obey her request the death was swift and ugly. She stretched her territory by working high up officials who eventually owed her favors. She soon became a prominent figure in the city. She made generous donations to campaigns and businesses. She paid her way to safety and then cemented her face in public as a saint so as to hide in plain sight. At times she did appear to be a saint as she spent money to transform many run down public schools into educational marvels. She did more than her part in cleaning the streets although no officer of the law would admit to that. She made rules and kept order and as result crime rate went tremendously. That secretly afforded her immunity with the police chief as well as his personal friendship. And to public she just owned a hair product company and a chain of hair salons and spas. It was perfectly legit. She was extremely intelligent and moved with purpose. Things with her in business moved like a well oiled machine. Everything was done over the phone in one of the rooms. Calls came in all day, scheduling was to perfection, and her funds and favors given swelled daily. She was modest though as she never tried to step from her place to gain more power. Yvette was comfortable with her position. Black would use this against her to find out how desperate she was to keep it that way.

“Yvette. Long time,” Black said standing in the doorway to Yvette’s personal office. Yvette’s straight jet black hair swayed in a perfect motion as she lifted her head, startled by her intruders words. “How did you get in here,” she said as she began to clear her desk of papers calmly. “This little jewel here gets me everywhere,” he said with a cocky sneer pointing to the badge he was holding in he was holding in his left hand. “Oh, goody,” she sighed in annoyance. Black glided forward on the thin dark pink carpet twisting his face into a sly grin. “Love what you got going on in here. I’m going sit,” he said walked around on one of the a fashionably pink high back chair in front of her desk and sat down. “Well, Detective Taylor. What do I owe the pleasure,” she said confidently unaffected by the threat of his badge. “You are beautiful in this picture,” he said grabbing the framed photo off her desk and admiring it. “I need to talk to you about a friend of ours. Well your friendship is probably more mutual than ours.” “And who might that be,” she replied.  “ Uhh, Senator…. Senator Lawing. Yeah that’s it,“ Black said with a cunning smile. Yvette smiled at him charmed by his attempt to be charismatic. “You’ve come to the wrong place if you’re looking for information detective. We deal in a completely different network if you catch my drift,” she said pointing to the Her Hair company sign she had hanging on her wall. “Yeah I knew you’d need my help. Let me help you catch this. If and when they find out you had something to do with the Senator’s disappearance all this immunity, and disrespect, that goes out the window. And what else will those poor little black kids in the ghetto do without their fancy anonymous donations and upgrades,” he said twisting the knife on that calculated soft spot. Yvette chuckled lightly and turned to look out at the beautiful morning sky. “Lucky for you the Senator is deep on s**t list at present moment,” she said before turning back to face Black. “What is it that I can do for you,” she continued lighting a long thin cigar with a plastic tip.

“Why is he on your s**t list for starters?” Black asked shifting in the huge leather chair in front of her desk. Yvette sighed as she blew out a puff of sweet smelling smoke. “He called my personal phone late one night and said he needed a late night ride in a sleigh. I don’t usually do much personally but he said it was urgent and he would only see me. My greedy nature assumed I would be in for a lucrative favor so I told him to meet me at the office. A half hour later he shows up drunk, falling over like he’s just taken a right cross in a heavy weight bout. He’s rambling on but eventually I get him on topic and we do business. Just as he’s a bout to leave he walks over to the door and waives someone to come in. Naturally I ready my pistol. But in walks this young, handsome boy. Firm shoulders, sharp cheekbones, the whole package. I see what’s going on but I’m not one to judge. This city has secrets you wouldn’t believe. Anyway, the Senator starts raving about how this young man is going to be the next big thing in theater. ‘His play starts next week, and the entire city is going to see what I have seen. The brilliance, the edge, his sharp tongue.’ He was practically spewing in his pants just talking about the boy,” she said as she ashed her cigar. “What are you getting at,” Black said starting to run low on patience. “A week later I went to out to see my niece in her high school play. Hamlet. And who do you think walks out in the opening scene playing the Prince himself. That same young man. Turns out he’s a 15 year old phenom. I thought he looked young that night with the senator but his size and those cheekbones were apparently deceiving. After I left that night I called the Senator and told him he had broken my rules and he was never to use my services again. We exchanged pieces of our mind and that was the last I’ve heard from him,” she said packing a bag as if to leave. “And that’s all I have for you. I”d love to help more but I have appointment this afternoon and I wont be missing it. So, if you please ,” she said gesturing to the door. Black bowed his head without saying a word. Smiling before silently walking out the door.

Charlene’s engine roared as Black cruised down the street. His mind was caught a little off guard by the story Mrs. Yvette had told. “Come one Charlene what do we got,” he said to his aloud to the listening ears of his car. The Senator with a high school boy? But how did it fit in with anything at all. He had indeed found a dot but this was a strange one. Before he realized it Black was pulling into the police station. As he pulled into his parking spot he realized he didn’t remember actually driving there. He remembered standing in front of his car after leaving Yvette’s office but nothing after that. “ Uh, Detective. The CPS lady is here. Said you told her to meet you,” said a the skinny rookie cop as Black made his way through the building. There were bodies everywhere. More moving parts then an assembly line He hated being around so many people but at this point he missed the anxiety it gave him. “You’re late detective,” said a enthusiastic red headed woman waiting outside his office door. “Just a little busy this morning with work. You understand,” he said moving around her to unlock and push open the heavy oak door. He held the door open and nodded politely as she stepped through and found herself in a rather uncomfortable leather arm chair in front of Black’s crowded desk.

“What can I do for you today Ms. Heather,” he asked suppressing his frustration with the the whole situation. “You know why I’m here,” she replied. “But if you insist.” She took a deep breath and painted on her best fake smile. “I’m here to make sure that you are maintaining your stability as you add more responsibilities back to your personal life. I need to make sure you are still sober and can handle both your personal  and your professional lives, as well as the life of your 6 year old daughter Serenity. So, from the top?” she concluded as ready for it to be over as he was. She went on through with her agenda as quickly as she could. She knew the detective from their childhood. They were never close but she had heard his story. She did her job thoroughly though and Detective Black answered as best he could and Ms. Heather knew it. She kept thinking to herself as Black rambled on that his best was so much better than so many other parents out there. The track Black had been on since coming out of rehab was impeccable and there was no sign of relapsing or slowing him down. Although the incident that put him in that position in the first place wasn’t one  to be proud of, she could be spending her time on a few different cases that were worth her time. “Just keep doing what you’re doing Mr. Taylor. Everything should work out just fine,” she said smiling back at him as the both sighed in relief at the conclusion of their meeting. “Thank you ma’am,” he answered sharply with sincerity in his eyes.

He finally relaxed when she was completely out of the room and had shut the door. His impatience and dislike for one on one conversation about his personal life had grown from distasteful to utter hatred of the years. He didn’t hate the CPS woman and understood it was consequences for his own actions but there was nothing more like nails on a chalk board to him than one on one conversation about his personal life. All Black wanted to do was process. Missing Senator. Ransom note. Threatening video. Opened window. Yvette. Cocaine. Young Boy. He went through the list in his head and tried to mold the puzzle pieces. There was something missing. There was plenty missing. This was only the beginning. “The they think they spotted the son,” said a slender man with plain clothes that was now standing in his office doorway. “Don’t open my damn door like that. What the hell is wrong with you,” he shooting a mean glance at the officer. “Sorry sir,” he quickly replied. “The say they spotted him headed towards the Old Town subway station. I’ve got Lieutenant Cameron on line three waiting for your orders,” said the officer. “Patch it through to my cell. Thank you. And close the door gently please,” Black replied as he walked back to his desk and sat down to take his call. He took a deep breath as his phone let out the first ring. “Black Taylor,” he said confidently and answered the phone.

Detective Black listened intently as he learned that the son was last seen inside the Old Town subway station talking to a tall white male and small child but was lost in the crowd shortly after. Black had reached his car and was well on his way when the Lieutenant  finished. “Get a few cars and set up a perimeter. Nobody moves until I get there. If we’re lucky he’ll walk right out without knowing we’re there,” Blacks said confidently as he sped down the inner city streets. The son was the key. If he could get to him he could bring this case crashing down. His heart started to pick up pace. He knew he was ready but he couldn’t help think of all that rested on his shoulders. He had to make good on this case and stay on the path no matter what might be thrown in his way.