Page 131 of Sunset Beach
“Nothing,” Drue said. “Why did Herman call you?”
“To clean up the mess he’d made,” Neesa said scornfully. “And help him get the body outta there.”
“That’s awful,” Drue said, meaning it.
“Yeah. You know, it’s been two years, and I think maybe I got me some of that, what do they call it, after you been in combat?”
“Post-traumatic stress disorder?”
“That’s it,” Neesa said. She held both hands in front of her. “See this? My hands are shaking real bad, ’cause we been talking about it.”
“How do you hide a body in a hotel room?” Drue asked. She could hear the oven timer ticking away.
“He put her in the big cleaning cart Jaz had brought when she came up to the room. Then, he had me put on this hat she always wore, like, pulled down over my face so couldn’t nobody watching the security cameras tell it was me instead of her, then I took it on down to the laundry room. He was supposed to take that cart out of there, and do something, but before he could get there, one of the other girls, Lutrisha, she came in there and started dumping out the dirty sheets, and that’s when she found the body.”
Neesa picked up the wineglass. It was empty. “And then all hell broke loose,” she said.
“I can’t believe this creep Byars got away with killing Jazmin,” Drue said, her indignation sincere. “Didn’t the police or anybody else ask you about any of this stuff? Are they that clueless?”
“I talked to the cops, I didn’t tell ’em anything. Some private investigator dude came to the dry cleaners where I was working, asked me a couple questions about Jaz, but hell, I’m not that stupid. After that, I went off the grid, big-time.”
She sighed and peered down at the test strip of hair. “Yeah. This looks real good for the first go-round. It ain’t all the way platinum, but I think I could come back next week and take it to the next level.”
“Next week?” Drue glanced over at the hair on the paper towel. It was a pale orange.
“No charge,” Neesa said, pulling on a pair of disposable gloves. “Let’s get this party started.” She removed the towel from Drue’s head and began combing and clipping it into quadrants. She pulled out a long strand of hair and began painting at the hairline.
“Ow!” Drue screeched, feeling the burn of the bleach on her scalp.
“Oh yeah,” Neesa mumbled. “I think I was supposed to put some Vaseline on your hairline to keep the chemicals offa you before we started. You got any Vaseline?”
“No!” Drue screeched. “I don’t have any damned Vaseline.”
The oven timer dinged.
Rae Hernandez walked into the kitchen. “Time’s up, Neesa,” she said pleasantly. “And you’re under arrest.”
52
Neesa’s jaw dropped open and she struggled to jump up from the chair, but Detective Hernandez easily pushed her back down.
“Stay seated,” Hernandez said, her face stern.
“Who’s she?” Neesa asked, pointing at the newcomer.
“This is my friend, Detective Rae Hernandez, with the Treasure Island Police Department,” Drue said. “She’s been listening in the other room.”
“Shhhhhiiiiit.” Neesa buried her head in both hands. After a moment, she looked up, shoulders slumped in defeat. “Y’all got to know, I didn’t have nuthin’ to do with what happened to Jaz. That was Byars. He said he’d fuck me up bad if I didn’t do what he said.”
“Okay,” Hernandez said. “Let’s talk about what he said and did, and what you said and did.”
“What? Aw, hell no. I been running and hiding out from that dude for two years. I can’t talk to you. He’ll kill me. He told me that night, he would kill my ass if I ever said anything to anybody.”
“You already did.” Hernandez walked over and picked up the cell phone.She held it up and showed it to the other woman. “And we’ve got you live and in color.”
“That ain’t cool,” Neesa said angrily. “You can’t bug somebody without asking their permission. I know my rights. I ain’t saying nuthin’ else. I want a lawyer.”
“You forget, I was in the next room, listening, and I heard every word you said,” Hernandez said.
