Free The Other Side Of the Game by Anita Doreen Diggs Page B

daddy’s house.
    The next day I walked out of the school and turned left toward home, wondering what to do with the rest of my afternoon. I was thinking about how much I already missed Asha when a car rolled up behind me and a male voice called out.
    â€œSaundra!”
    I turned around. It was Yero, leaning out of the driver’s side window. “
    â€œHi, Soul Train,” he said, grinning. “Come take a ride with me!”
    I jumped in and we drove all over Queens, not wanting to leave each other after the conversation started flowing. We rode, stopped for burgers and fries, rode some more and talked about a whole lot of stuff: his mom, who struggled to raise five children after his father ran off with a white nurses’ aide; my dad, who was overjoyed that we were finally going to live under the same roof; how he aced the postal exam; my dream of studying fashion design; and how we both used to smoke weed but now thought that drug dealers should all be arrested and charged with attempted murder.
    Four hours later, he finally pulled up in front of my house and turned off the ignition. “Saundra, I know this is going to sound crazy but you’re the girl I’ve been looking for. Will you have me?”
    Have him? Well, I hadn’t had sex since Mama died and I did like Yero Brown an awful lot.
    â€œYes, but not at my place. If Daddy caught us, he would shoot you and probably throw me in jail till my eighteenth birthday. Is there a hotel nearby?”
    â€œNo,” said Yero, laughing heartily. “I didn’t mean sex. I want to be your boyfriend.”
    Embarrassed at the fact that I’d been willing to give it up so quickly, I tried to recapture some shred of dignity. With my nose in the air, I rattled off my phone number. “Call me and we’ll see,” was my answer.
    Now, six years later, Sharon Hoffman was a senior at a college in Arizona and Yero and I were headed for the tuxedo shop to look for a cummerbund that Yero would feel comfortable in at our wedding.

Chapter 20
    PHIL
    I watched as Hugo, my short and stocky partner of more than ten years, paced in front of my desk. His skin seemed even whiter than usual and he kept ruffling his thinning mop of jet black hair. There was no point in telling him to calm down. Hugo worked out the tension that was part of our job in his own way. We both jumped when the phone rang.
    â€œDetective Patterson,” I said.
    It wasn’t the call we’d been waiting for.
    â€œPhil, I need a favor.”
    â€œSpit it out, James. I don’t have much time.”
    David James was a fellow detective who had a serious gambling problem. He was always coming up short on cash and I had a bad habit of helping him out.
    â€œCan you let me hold a hundred dollars till next Tuesday?”
    â€œYeah. Fine.”
    â€œYou sound pissed off, man. Look, this is the last time.”
    â€œI’m under a lot of pressure right now, James. Gotta go.”
    â€œCan I pick up the money right now?”
    â€œYeah, man.”
    I hung up before he could thank me. Hugo and I were waiting for a call from one of our snitches. We’d been waiting a long time—she was supposed to check in more than an hour ago. If she came through, we might take down one of the busiest crack dealers in the area. If she chickened out, we had lost a whole lot of man hours and a few hundred dollars that belonged to the NYPD. The boss wasn’t going to be happy.
    The next call was from the boss. He barked out some orders.
    I gave Hugo the thumbs down sign and he groaned.
    â€œWe’ll be there in a flash, sir.”
    â€œYou have five minutes.”
    The captain hung up without another word. I grabbed my jacket and Hugo raced toward his desk to retrieve his own.
    â€œWhere we goin’?” asked Hugo.
    I didn’t answer him until we were out of the precinct and on the road. “We got a body in Laurelton. Woman says she came in and