The World in Reverse by Latrivia Nelson Page A

Agosto had a black wife…a fine black wife. Who would have ever thought it? He always pegged him as being married to a small, blonde woman - a Becky, an Amy, a Cathy but not a sister.
    Ivy looked over at Johnson for an explan ation of who he was and why he was in her house.
    “Detective Johnson, ma’am,” he said, stic king out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
    “Ivy Agosto, Nicola’s wife,” Ivy said, se eing the surprise in his eyes. She was used to it after six years of marriage to a white man in the city where Dr. King was assassinated. Some things just never went over well.
    “Sorry, baby,” Nicola said, motioning to Johnson. “This is my new partner.” He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.
    “Nice to meet you,” Ivy said, trailing her intense gaze back to Nicola. “Don’t be all night, Nicky. You and I have unfinished business.” Her voice was flat now, knowing that she could demand all she wanted, but more than likely it wouldn’t happen.
    “I won’t.” Nicola kissed her on her for ehead. “I promise.” He blinked as he said it. How could he tell her anything but that even though he knew it might not be true? He would try his best. That was the truth.
    “Nice to meet you, Mrs…” Johnson paused.
    “You’re his war partner. You can just call me Ivy,” she said with a half-smile. “Watch his back out there okay?”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Johnson said, saluting her.
     

 
    7
    Nicola followed Johnson’s unmarked squad car in his truck with the lights flashing as they barreled through the city streets to downtown Memphis off of Madison Avenue directly across from the Madison Hotel, where a parking garage had been quartered off by the police.
    Onlookers from the hotel, the law school d irectly across the main thoroughfare and the gym gathered around speculating and pointing, while anxious news crews tried to get a glimpse of the action for a live shot.
    Pulling up out front of the crime scene, Johnson and Nicola quickly jumped out, waved their badges and went under the tape.
    “What time did they find him?” Nicola asked as they walked past detectives standing around talking.
    “I got the call fifteen minutes before I came to your place. So, not too long before that,” Johnson answered, nodding towards a detective he knew. “Where’s the body?” he asked the guy.
    “Second floor,” the detective said, pointing up. “Can’t miss it.”
    On the second floor of the garage in the nearly vacant lot, flashing lights from crime scene cameras danced around the concrete structure as a woman in a black top and jeans took more pictures.
    Nicola and Johnson walked up to the Range Rover, covered with bullet holes and broken glass and stopped.
    “Why do these motherfuckers always drive Land Rovers?” Johnson asked quizzically.
    “They are normally good urban warfare v ehicles. They can maneuver in just about any terrain," Nicola answered.
    “So can a Hummer,” Johnson said, taking his eyes off the dead man to look at the woman as she bent over to take photos of the blood dripping from the interior of the truck to the ground.
    “Well, he got fucked off regardless, didn’t he?” Nicola said, rolling his eyes.
    “You think,” Johnson said, tilting his head and looking inside of the window at the dead body. “Looks like buck shot,” he said, looking at Nicola.
    “12-gauge pump more than likely,” Nicola said, putting his hand on his hip. He exhaled a sigh. “Cane’s favorite. The bastard was right under our nose.”
    “So you believe he killed him over our case?”
    “I don’t believe in coincidences,” Nicola said with a frown.”
    “Hey, don’t fuck with my crime scene, ge ntlemen,” Detective Aubrey Graham said, walking up to the men. Graham was a mid-forties, black heavy-set woman with dark skin, black glasses, a thing against wearing make-up and a mean streak. Barely five feet tall, she had a reputation for being a hard ass on the streets but everyone loved her on