Famous (The Soul of the World Book 1) by David Skato (best book reader .txt) 📗

“Yes. But it’s not just that. That eye is the sign of the Illuminati.”

“Uh oh. Not that cult shit.”

“Illuminati is not a cult. Not in the sense of the word. Let me see it.” He hands her the phone. “Don’t worry,” She said with a smirk. “I’m not going to flip through your gallery and find pictures of the butt naked skanks from Quest.” He pouted his lips as to say, “yea, sure you’re not.” She takes the phone and pinches the image to zoom in on the picture.  “This is supposedly the eye of Baphomet.” He looks at the image. “Who is Baphomet?”

“The devil? God? Depends on who you ask. These people worship him.”

“So, Rochelle is-was a devil worshiper?” Dontae’ asks skeptically.

“You know I like to read that stuff, but I don’t honestly believe it.” She pauses as a look of concern crosses her face. “Now I don’t know.”

“You better not come in here with a robe and candles and shit,” Dontae’ joked.

“I don’t want to be in that craziness. Although they’re all rich!”

He looks at her, “Hum?”

“What is it? “Sandy asked.

“Nothing.”

Dontae takes the phone and puts it neatly back on the nightstand. He turns and looks Sandy in the eye, appearing to head towards a serious conversation. “Now, where are those stilettos?”

She Laughs as he jumps on top of her.

‍Ω

The morning was fresh with sunshine, which was far different from the previous one.  The sun beamed through Dontae’s window as he lay on the bed a bit groggy from a good night’s sleep. Sandy was gone, but as usual, she left breakfast on the stove.  Dontae’, now thoroughly showered and dressed, flipped on the TV while stuffing the last bit of toast in his mouth. He thought he’d catch the news and catch more of the fallout from Rochelle’s untimely death. To his surprise, there was nothing. He waited a while as he flipped through a few of the news stations, but nothing.  Although this was strange, his thoughts were either it had passed very quickly, or her publicist managed to deflect long enough to get their story straight. Either way, it was on his lap now. He had to find out what really happened that night, who she was running from, and why.  If it was a suicide, she deemed whoever was on the other side of that door worse than death. Dontae’ had a tough time imagining that. There were not too many things in his world worse than death.

Maybe one.

Some cops get into the field because they were bullied in school or a “following in the family footsteps” kind of thing. Not Dontae’. He was the complete opposite. He was the bully, and most of his family were on the wrong side of the law. Growing up, he had a favorite cousin. Squirt, they called him. He thought it was maybe because he was small in stature but didn’t really know. The two were thick as thieves, and on occasion, they were just thieves.  Squirt taught him how to grow up on the streets and kept him out of trouble for the most part. Not because they didn’t look for it, but because Squirt was so good at getting out of it. Except for that time, he wasn’t. Squirt was now doing life for a murder during a botched house burglary.

The man he shot, Mr. Peterson, decided that he wasn’t going out of town with his wife as he planned. It turns out that Mr. Peterson had a friend on the side that just happened to visit this one faithful night.  Dontae’ and Squirt hid in the closet after being surprised by the unexpected Mr. Peterson and his mistress.  By sheer bad luck, it was the closet that Mr. Peterson hid his condoms. The door opened, there was a BANG, and Mr. Peterson hit the floor holding his chest. Dontae’ will never know if Squirt meant to do it or was just nervous and made a terrible mistake. He would never ask. At the lineup, the mistress pointed squirt out without a doubt. Apparently, he looked her dead in the eyes, and she saw something that was cold and unhuman. Well, that was what she said at trial. But the strangest thing happened. She didn’t remember Dontae’; At all. She only recalled one assailant.  Squirt went with that story and took the charge all by himself. There was one thing worse than death, life in prison. Dontae’ never forgot this, and after the life-changing event, he became the man he is.  A detective with street smarts. All thanks to Squirt.

The smell of musk was in the air as Dontae walked into the Zone 5 Atlanta Police department and heads to his desk. He had felt uneasy at this place since his transfer roughly three years prior.  There was something off that he couldn’t pinpoint. It could have been that a few of his coworkers didn’t like him because he ruined their chances of being promoted to detective. This wasn’t his fault; the chief decided to hire from outside rather than promote from within.

Nevertheless, the stares were there, ugly and vicious at times. This didn’t bother Dontae’ at all. He “wished a motherfucker would...”

He passed Jessi sitting at her “rat hole” of a desk across from his own. In the first few weeks as partners, he didn’t find it funny that her space was always a mess. Oh, how he hated her. The snarky remarks, the bad-ass-er-ry attitude, the sexy ass with that beautiful smile. He hated it all. As time progressed, he saw her for the wonderful person she is. He started to love how she was outspoken, direct, and didn’t hide behind the badge when it was time to get dirty in the field. She could definitely back up any shit that she talked. These six months were fast, and they were now friends. He still hated her desk.

He riffles through his files