Still Guilty (February 2010) excerpt

“Hold on, counselor.” Judge Kendall interrupted the opening statements. Her facial expression gave away what was about to come. “Mrs. Beacon, my courtroom is not the place for theatrics. Armed criminal assault is a serious charge. I’ll overlook your choice of attire, but keep up with your shenanigans, and I’ll have no problem having you disrobed and thrown in jail.”
Mrs. Beacon leaped to her feet despite the efforts of her two attorneys at her side to restrain her. “Your Honor, in all fairness, I didn’t interrupt the man. You did.” Mrs. Beacon turned to her group and they nodded in sync. “I’m harmless and old enough to be your grandma. I’m—”
“Enough!” Judge Kendall slammed her gavel. “If you don’t behave, today won’t be your best day. Now, sit down and take off that hat. This is a courtroom, not the Kentucky Derby.”
“But Your Honor, I feel naked without my bonnet—” She didn’t finish as her attorneys wrestled her to her chair. One had an arm wrapped around her waist while the other was brave enough to cover her mouth while apologizing to the judge. When Mrs. Beacon bit down on a finger, he released the muzzle.
Rainey had enough. He got up from his seat as the judge added more charges to Mrs. Beacon’s slate. Exiting the Barnum and Bailey arena, Rainey exhaled to release the jumbled emotional mess from thirty minutes in Mrs. Beacon’s presence.
Outside the courtroom, the scene was just as maddening. The number people had swelled. It was as if Santa’s elves, topped off in red hats, were scurrying doing nothing. As he tried to head to the restroom, a bunch of old women refused to let him through, mumbling something about his name wasn’t on Mrs. Beacon’s list. What list?
“I’ve heard of a key for access to the men’s room, but a list. I just walked outside this courtroom.”
“Hmm-mmm. That’s what they all say,” a woman with a long face and Jay Leno chin argued.
“Excuse me again, but this is a public building,” he had politely informed them, trying his best not to yell.
“Exactly, young man, and we are here to enforce the building code. You’d make one person over the mandatory limit. We need all the space we can get. With so many women here, we’ve taken over the men’s restroom. Sorry. Just hold it a little while longer,” one cute little woman advised. “Whatever you do, don’t think anymore water. Coffee, teas, and soda could also act as diuretics.”

Still Guilty (April 2010)

A loud noise caused Penelope to bark twice, but she didn’t move to investigate. Malcolm jerked his head in the direction outside the front door. Parke leaned forward. “What was that?”
Ellington tilted his head, straining to listen. Suspicion caused his nostrils to flare. “You heard that too?” Standing, Ellington stomped to the window, angled his body as if he was on a covert mission, and peeked through a slit in the curtains. Without an explanation, he dashed to his office, almost tripping over a bowl of untouched cheddar popcorn.
“Where are you going? What’s wrong?” Parke asked. He and Malcolm stood alarmed.
“Somebody’s trying to steal my truck. I’m going to get my gun,” Ellington yelled from another room.
“Wait a minute before we get in a gun battle. Let’s head outside first. Maybe we’ll scare them off,” Parke advised his friend. “Probably a bunch of kids…”
Malcolm frowned. “The more reason I say call 911. I’m not putting my life on the line over your custom, fully loaded F-150 truck. I’m a newlywed, and if it’s God’s will, I’ve already mapped out a long, enjoyable life with my wife.”
Parke shoved his brother. “C’mon. Let’s see what’s up. Be a man, not a hubby.”
“Humph. The other option is much more rewarding,” Malcolm retorted.
Ellington raced out his home office with a gun stuffed in his waistband. The brothers followed. The driver of a monster-size tow truck had finished strapping the wheels to drag it off private property.
“Hey! Hey! What are you doing? Get away from my truck!” Ellington shouted, but the person kept working.
Parke’s jaw dropped. He back slapped Ellington across the chest. “Man, are you having money problems? You could’ve asked me.”
“Shut up, Parke.” Ellington marched down the steps to his truck. “Listen, man, I think you…” He halted when he noticed bright red lipstick. “The repo man is a drag queen? Great. Why use a gun when my fists will do?” he mumbled as he balled his hands.
The repo man held the clipboard away from his jacket. “Do I look like a man to you?” the woman snapped in a lethal tone that would’ve been sexy under different circumstances.
Ellington was blindsided. “You look like a thief,” he argued, not deterred.
“If you paid your bill, I wouldn’t have to come like a thief in the night. Back off. I’m just doing my job. You can settle your bill—”
“Imani?” Parke asked, surprised he recognized the sass behind her voice. It had been a while since he had seen Cheney’s best friend who was also Mrs. Beacon’s neighbor.