“Can you open a window?” Smith said as they went inside of his trailer.
“Sorry, didn’t take out the trash,” Maverick chuckled. He grabbed the bag of garbage and tossed it out the door of the trailer. Smith took a seat where he found a clean spot. Maverick opened a few windows and then plopped down. Smith's gaze swept the trailer and then returned to his friend. Maverick ignored the questions in his friend's eyes. He drank his beer and waited for the criticism. People always wanted to give you their unsolicited opinion. It was best to wait and learn what it was before spilling your guts.
“So, this is where you stay?” Smith asked.
“This is where I stay,” Maverick confirmed.
“Kind of tight,” Smith said.
“It’s fine for me. TV right there. Sink and stove right there. Bathroom back there. And bed after it.”
“Damn, man. I’m sorry,” Smith said and slumped forward.
“Don’t be,” Maverick said. “I’m looking to build a house on this land. Designing it myself.”
Maverick pointed to the design sheets on the table in the booth seat. They were under half-eaten bags of junk food and empty beer bottles. Smith glanced at it and then to him. “Not talking about your living situation Maverick. I’m talking about what went down. That piece of shit deserved to have his neck broken for what he did to Camille. He was a fucking cop killer.”
“I’m done with that story,” Maverick said. “Let’s not rehash it.”
“No, bro, that’s why I drove out here. You aren’t done. Does that television get the local news?”
Maverick shrugged.
“It’s all over the news. Everything about that fertility clinic you used. What happened to you and Melissa. And the federal investigation. Does the press come looking for you?”
Maverick gaze cut to the arsenal of weapons he got tacked onto the gunlock he mounted on the wall. “No one fucks with me.”
“Someone is fucking with you. Her name is Delilah Montgomery.” Smith said.
Maverick lowered his brows. Two weeks ago, he met with Delilah in a Manhattan office. Since then, a court date for custodial visiting rights had been scheduled for February. His attorney said he’d have to give a deposition beforehand, so he planned on making another trip to the city.
“She’s got some powerful friends. The Chief had us all sit for interviews. She’s digging into the Garcia case and a few others. Your psych record has been leaked to her attorneys.”
“How the fuck did that happen?” Maverick asked.
“You know-how. Money,” Smith said.
“What about the Blue Shield. The wall of protection. The brotherhood?” Maverick mocked. “Besides, she can’t use that in court.”
“The Chief and the department don’t want shit to do with this. You know how badly things went down. They settled with the Garcia family. You’re on your own. You’re not one of us anymore. Like I said. I did some digging. Maverick? You’re a father?”
He smiled and nodded.
“Fuck, man. Shit keeps coming at you. How do you do it? I’d be raging insane with all of this bullshit.”
Maverick set the bottle of beer down. “The psych told me I was insane,” he joked. “Insanity keeps me tight.”
“Not funny,” Smith said.
“Sure, it is. All of it is funny. Especially the part where that bitch thinks she’s going to keep me from my kid.”
“What can I do?” Smith asked.
“Nothing. It’s my fight. My attorneys know what I’ve done. Why I’ve been thrown off the force, so does all of New York. She can’t hurt me,” he said.
“She’s trying. Hard. She’s interviewing family members of the ALKQN. Finding people to say you were a dirty cop. She is trying to say you’re a threat to the kid. I hear she has offered you a settlement? A payoff?” Smith asked.
“Where did you hear that?” Maverick asked.
Smith began to stammer. Maverick leaned forward. “Where did you hear that?” Smith fell silent. It then became clear to Maverick the purpose of the visit. It wasn’t a friendly call. His friend wasn’t as concerned as he said. In fact, Smith had more information than Maverick guessed his attorney did. “She’s got to you? That fast?”
“Man, the woman has more money than God,” Smith gave a nervous smile.
“You gave me up to her?” Maverick sat back in disgust.
“No, bro, no. But she did have a man put a check in my face that could send me to the Bahamas in retirement early. If I came out here and talked to you.”
Maverick used to have rage issues. That’s what he told himself. The old him would have grabbed Cliff by the hair, threw him to the ground, and shoved a .38 down his throat. But he didn’t react. He had learned a lot since Camille’s death about who he was and who he wanted to be.
“You should go, man,” Maverick said in disappointment.
“She is willing to drop everything, give you anything, for you to let this kid go. She’s just a scared mother, bro. She doesn’t know you, and she thinks you’re dangerous. Hell, we all are dangerous. They talk about PTSD for soldiers. What about cops? What we’ve seen. What we’ve had to deal with,” Smith's voice trailed off.
“Get the fuck out of my trailer, man,” Maverick said and slumped forward with his head in his hands.
Smith set his beer down. He sighed. He nodded and started for the door. He paused. “Why are you building a house?”
“For my son. When he comes here, I’m going to be the father he needs. It’s the only reason why I’m not kicking your ass right now. Take this message back to her. Nothing, not even God himself, is going to keep me from my kid.”
“Good for you,” Smith said and left. Maverick picked up his beer and finished it. He thought of the beautiful Delilah Montgomery. It must be easy for her to purchase her problems and toss them away like trash. He couldn’t wait to teach her the hard lesson life taught him.
DELILAH OPENED THE door.
Queen smiled. She held up a bag of Kentucky Fried Chicken. “I come in peace.”
Delilah turned and walked away. Queen closed the door and followed her. KFC was their favorite as a kid, but she was Vegan now. She couldn’t eat any of it. Queen brought it as a little joke between them. She’d make her sit with her at the table and watch her eat. Suffer under the smell of grease and fried batter. It worked. She was already smiling when they walked into the kitchen and sat at her table.
“I’m sorry, okay?” Queen said.
“I needed you in New York. What the hell were you doing in D.C.?” Delilah asked.
Queen set the KFC bag on the table. “I’m trying to understand what’s going on with Godiva. There’s a lot we don’t know about Jaxon Price. Like why he’s been hiding all these years and his connection to Fikrit. It’s all bizarre.”
“So you think he knows where she is? She’s in trouble?” Delilah asked.
“Yeah, I do. I should have listened to you sooner. All of this is connected,” Queen said. “I got some other disturbing news. The Feds aren’t investigating you. They don’t believe you knew about the clinic and what Charles was doing. But the Montgomery’s are another story.”