Real Bitches Do Real Things by Keesh Washington

Real Bitches Do Real Things by Keesh Washington

Author:Keesh Washington [Washington, Keesh]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Mystery, Urban, Thriller & Suspense, United States, African American, Genre Fiction, Literature & Fiction, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense
Amazon: B00GKVV3OA
Publisher: Felony Books
Published: 2013-11-09T05:00:00+00:00


Chapter 11

"Kamau came home and found Neeta sitting in the corner naked, holding the shotgun in her lap," I told Detective Figg.

He held up a finger for me to pause, then he stood up and tapped a knuckle on the two-way glass. He put his thumb and pinky to the side of his face in a "phone" gesture, then pointed to the ground and mouthed the word "now." I figured he was telling them to get Atlanta PD on the phone to find out if I was lying about the Jerry Boone setup.

Figg sat back down. "What happened next?"

"Kamau took her to the hospital so they could stitch up the gash on her face. It still left a nasty scar, though. And if you know Neeta, you know she values her looks and she wasn't going to leave her face looking like that for long."

One of Figg's eyebrows went up.

"You must know what I'm about to say," I said, smiling.

"She got plastic surgery," he guessed.

"Correct-a-mundo."

"Where did she go to get it done?"

"The best place on Earth to get cosmetic surgery. Los Angeles, California. Don't get me wrong—they relocated to LA because the South was hot. But the main reason was for the surgery. Her doctor wanted her to get some rest, no planes or long rides, so after she recovered they just stayed and they opened up shop. She was at home again."

"Do you have a name of the doctor?" he asked anxiously.

"No."

He sighed.

"I didn't meet her till after the surgery. And I never asked her the details of it. I couldn't tell she had surgery the first time I met her. If she hadn't told me, I would have never known."

"Where'd you meet her?"

"At the strip club. I was a dancer."

"You stripped?" He glanced at my chest again.

"I danced," I corrected him. "That's how I stood out from all those other hoes at every club I went to. I didn't just take my clothes off. I entertained."

"Why would Neeta put a strip—a dancer on her drug team?"

"I just told you. Because I stood out."

"How?"

I grinned. "Dollar bills, detective. Dollar bills ..."



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