Laugh Now

by Rahiem Brooks

  Dre handed Amare to Tasha, who looked deathly afraid, and for good reason: someone had forcefully entered her home. Dre whispered into her ear, and they both reacted. Despite her fright, she was sure that Dre would spare nothing to protect her and their son.

  ***

  The unwanted man waited in the kitchen. He could not believe that the home owners had not responded to his disrespectful entry into their abode. They should have commanded the police to their home, but they were sound asleep. Stupid ingrates, he thought. The man treaded lightly, as he progressed into the suburban home. His Glock drawn in the event Dre decided to confront him with a sudden move. The man knew the brothers intimately, and he would kill Dre that night, he thought.

  At the top of the spiral stair case, the man scanned the hallway, and noticed that the master bedroom door was partially open. The sneer on his face was repulsive. He wanted to see the state of shock, internal strain, and disbelieving stares on the homeowner’s face. At the bedroom door, he slowly pushed it open. No creak. A good, rich door. Both of the brothers moved from Philadelphia and lived richly. Why did they deserve their lifestyles? He wanted a slice of the loaf, and that night, he planned to take a part of the green-colored bread.

  When he reached the head of the bed, he positioned himself and placed his gun an inch from the heads under the blanket. He cocked his gun, and Dre with hurricane speed raced out his closet and offered the butt of his gun to the back of the intruder’s head. The man fell forward and squeezed off a shot, as he lost the gun. Glass shattered from the framed picture on the wall, as Tasha bravely raced down the stairs with Amare.

  The intruder attempted to stand as Dre delivered a kick to his face. And another to his gut, as Tasha reappeared in the bedroom. The man turned and saw that she had a gun trained on him. She said, “Please move, pussy! Please! God, I dare you to make one fuckin’ move!” The man tried to speak, but Tasha screamed, “Shut the fuck up, pussy,” before she shot him in the thigh.

  “Don’t! I’m a federal agent. My badge is in my wallet.”

  “I don’t give a—” Tasha began, prepared to shot him again. “Wait, Tash!” Dre yelled. “We might need this nigga.”

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, Kareem and Toi approached Dre’s front door, as Tasha opened it. Tasha stepped aside, as they marched past her, both lured by the thought of who Dre and Tasha had bound and gagged in their family room.

  When they reached the family room, Toi wanted to run away. Kareem’s face became flushed with anger, and his sudden desire to be there had faded quickly. He could not believe that he stared at the face of Shimir.

  CHAPTER 65

  Under the early morning dawn, McKenzey pulled into the Roosevelt Inn parking lot, and found the boys-in-blue, milling about investigating a crime scene. He parked his car and jumped out. He flashed his badge to a young corporal, that guarded the crime scene before being waved in.

  “So, besides my name being smeared in blood on the mirror, what do we have?” McKenzey asked the scene lieutenant.

  Lieutenant Wong was a 13-year veteran, with his hair parted down the middle and he weighed in at 120-pounds. He would have made a lovely jockey.

  “We have your star witness in a very compromising situation,” Lt. Wong said, as they walked toward the room. “Brent Gower has been the canvas of an artistic buffoon. The techs are looking for prints and hair fibers. Video feed from the front desk was taken by the killers. The maid found him and is in the office hysterical. Second body she’s found this morning. She went to the dumpster to hurl and found a woman inside dead with a single gun shot to the head.”

  “What was done to him?” McKenzey asked, eagerly walking to the room. He wanted the luxury of laughing inside at what was done to the simpleton. He wished that he had done BG in himself. He’d have too take his frustrations out on the Bezel brothers.

  “It’s a glimpse of a twisted predator that the guys in Quantico would adore to interview for behavioral science text books. This crime is like a grain of sand on the beach, very original, and just out right obnoxious.”

  “That damn smell is horrific.”

  “That’s your guy’s new body fragrance,” Lt. Wong said, as they entered the room. He showed McKenzey the body and said, “The razor-like cuts on his arms appear to be done with a whiz-wheel that was purposefully left behind, I’m sure. It’s bagged and tagged.”

  “You mean the high-speed cutter used to cut through car metal. You got to be fucking kidding me?”

  “That’s nothing. Check this out,” Lt. Wong said and pointed to one of the cuts. “This one was re-closed with a propane torch. Also B&T. The pliers found to crush his testicles, too. And I assume the whiz-wheel removed his penis before it was implanted into his eye socket. That’s just conjecture, don’t quote me on that.”

  “This shit is sick. Don’t believe it.”

  “How will this affect your case?” Wong asked icily. “He was your star witness against the Bezel’s right? I heard that from a reporter over there.”

  McKenzey walked up to the camera man and snatched the recorder from the photographer and slammed it on the asphalt. “I’m sorry, but this story cannot be put on the air waves.”

  The aquiline, jovial reported lost it. “Why the hell not? This has aired live already. It’s news and I deal in the business of airing news, Agent McKenzey.”

  “You just ruined my two-year investigation of a notorious crime family,” McKenzey said, ignoring the fact, the reporter knew his name.

  “D-E-A Agent Lu-cas Mc-Kenzey, what a character you are. I know all about your investigation, and I hardly call the Bezels notorious. I do know that for the sake of taking down two boys, neither of them 25-years-old, you’ve had a lengthy number of murders happen under your watch, including this one here. All to build a racketeering case and possibly get a Colombian, which you don’t have one solid piece of evidence on, and you had the poor Brent Gower prepped to lie in order to get a conviction. This criminal system is so twisted. It allows all of these murders and kids to be abandoned to drug addicted mothers, while you wait to get the bigger fish, instead of getting dealers off the street ASAP.”

  “Enough of this,” McKenzey said, and replayed all of the dead bodies in his mind. They started with Snobli, the Councilman, and now Brent “BG” Gower. He stormed from the scene and hopped in his car, as his cell phone rang. He pressed the TALK button and said, “Turner did you get them.”

  “Naw, we got Turner mutha fucka! You’re next,” the caller said, and hung up.

  CHAPTER 66

  Around six p.m., Leah was back in her apartment after a long day at work. She vanished into the bathroom, showered, and as she toweled off her door bell rang. It was Dre.

  “To what do I owe this honor?” she asked nonchalantly. “What wifey left you, for running the streets?”

  Dre ignored that. “Can I come in? I really need to talk to you.”

  She moved to let him in and locked the door behind him. He stood in the entryway and waited for her next move, as he stared at the contours of her body in her robe. She walked toward her bedroom. Like a dog in heat, he chased behind her, and enjoyed the provocative dance that her ass performed. He took a seat on her bed as she stood in the mirror and brushed her damp hair.

  “So, you’ve been quiet enough. What are the odds of you needing to talk to me, especially after you just vanished without a word?” She asked with a hand on her hip.

  “I had my reasons, but I mainly wanted to protect you. I need your help.”

  “Well, I knew that could be the only reason you were here. Typical!”

  “Would you quit it? I never intended to hurt you. What I did was for your protection, trust me.”

  “Listen to me, carefully. When I told you, I was a federal employee. Did you think that I lied?”

  “No, but joking, though. I didn’t take you serious, but my brother had an investigator check you out.”

  “And he found that I am the deputy clerk for Judg
e Ruley. No big deal.”

  “It is, and I really need you.”

  “Let me hear what you could possibly need from me.”

  “I don’t beat around the bush—”

  “You beat up this bush,” she said interrupting him, and

  grabbing his dick.

  Not persuaded to get off base, he went on, and said, “I need

  to pay off a judge or prosecutor to botch our trial. Can you make that happen?”

  “Now, why the hell would I do that for you, after you lied to me?”

  “Don’t make me beg. You remember what happened the last time that I had to get on my knees to beg?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. I know the people to make it happen, but that ain’t cheap. I’ll have to look into it.”

  “We are ready to pay what we weigh, and of course, this is for you to begin looking,” he said, and went into his jacket pocket and pulled an envelop out. He gave it to her, and said, “Ten-thousand and much more where that came from.”

  She tossed the money onto her dresser, and said, “Know for the record that you hurt me badly. I fell for you, and you

  crushed me.” She stepped within an inch from him and untied her robe. Her two perfectly grown cantaloupes fell out; her nipples tumescent with anticipation. She leaned toward him, and rested her hands on his shoulders. Her gaze was gorgeous and uncritical. “You can apologize anytime now.”

  CHAPTER 67

  Kareem could not gather himself to leave his office, but that changed with a call from his grandmother’ maid.

  “LuAnn, is there a problem?” he asked, urgently. Eight- thirty at night, there was no reason for LuAnn to call him.

  “Mr. Bezel,” she said, cautiously. “I arrived at Granny Jean-Mary’s late, as you requested, and—”

  “What! I didn’t request shit.” He was haplessly upset and did not wish to use foul language, but he was shook up. A lone tear fell from his eyes, and he hadn’t even heard anything bad. He felt it, though.

  “The agency called me at home and told me that I should arrive late because you were taken her out to a doctor appointment.”

  “I didn’t. Where’s my grandmother, right now?” He asked, point blank.

  “The house is...” she began.

  “LuAnn!” He screamed. “Where the fuck is my grandmother?” Now he was pissed, and panicked. I’m ready to fuck this dizzy bitch up.

  “The house is ransacked and she’s not here.”

  “Noooooooooo!” He yelled, as he raced onto the elevator to exit his building. He gathered what ever control he had, and asked her if she had her cell phone. “Call the police, now!” He then used the conference call feature on his cell phone and called Dre when he reached the lobby. He passed the security, and told Dre on the phone, “Go to Jean-Mary’s ASAP!”

  “Okay. Okay. What’s up?” He asked, rolling from on top of Leah.

  “She’s gone. The...”

  ***

  Dre heard the phone bounce along the pavement and waited a second. Dre did not know that Kareem slammed to the ground and onlookers threw themselves to the ground, as well to escape being shot. After fifteen seconds and no more shots, Kareem—barely conscious—grabbed the phone and cradled it to his ear.

  “Dre, they shot me. Help Jean...”

  CHAPTER 68

  Dre could not bare the thought of losing his brother or his grandmother. They were both vital to his existence. The lives of two people that he loved were in danger, and he was suddenly forlorn. He pulled himself together and prepared to score one for the team. Not a home run, but a grand slam. Relatives and friends suspected that he always depended on Kareem, but with Kareem out of the game, he planned to carry them to the championship parade.

  He parked on the corner of Jean-Mary’s block. He was unable to drive up her block because it was blocked by several police cars and an ambulance. An ambulance was all bad. He walked up the block, ignoring the neighbors who watched him intently. By now, they all knew what had happened, and he didn’t.

  He reached Jean-Mary’s lawn and was questioned by the rookie officer covering the home. He explained who he was, and Sergeant Brown, the lead officer signaled for him to be let through. He approached the sergeant and hoped to get answers.

  “This is not a crime scene. You can enter, but beware.” “Beware of what?” Dre asked, pushing past the detective. “This,” the slender cop told him, as he looked at the anger in Dre’s eyes.

  “What the fuck is this?” Dre screamed at LuAnn. She stood with a female officer who took a report from her. Dre was sickened by the sight of the living room, and could not fathom looking further. He turned to LuAnn.

  “I have no idea. When I came over, I found the place all ransacked like this. I called Kareem, but we were disconnected, and when I tried to call him back, his recorder picked up.”

  The mention of Kareem’s name brought up another situation. Dre was plagued by dilemma after dilemma. How was his brother, his pal? Was he dead? In a morgue? Still pressed to the street? So many questions, and so little time to answer them. “Did my grandmother have plans to be out that you know of?”

  “Not to my knowledge. I asked Kareem about a call made to the service regarding him taking her out and for me to come here late. He denied making the call.”

  Dre turned to the cop. “You heard the woman. Someone lied to get her here late. My grand mom has been kidnapped.”

  “First of all, calm down, sir,” Sergeant Brown told him. “There was no forced entry. We scanned the house and her diabetic medicine is gone. For all we know, she went out and someone did this while she was gone, and she’ll be walking up the block any minute now.”

  Dre let out a deep breath and sighed. “Listen here, brainiac.” He paused to gather himself. “If she went out, naturally she took insulin. But she would have returned earlier, and definitely told my brother. She’s missing, I feel it.” The policeman tried to get a word in, but Dre snapped. “Don’t fucking cut me off! I know my grandmother. She would not be out without calling my brother, period. We are all she has, despite her many children.”

  The cop assured him that he was getting nowhere. “I understand your faith, but we have to wait at least 48-hours before she can be officially reported missing.” The words rained on Dre with dismal gloominess.

  “Then she’s been missin’ 50-hours officer.”

  “Are you suggesting, I—”

  “Lie! Precisely.” Dre snapped. “You know what, you act

  like you cannot lie, or do something. I bet if you were at a robbery scene and had an innocent man in custody, you’d lie about it.” He was tired of explaining himself, so he said, “There was no crime. You can leave, now. You’re trespassing!”

  “What do you mean?” “Get the fuck out!”

  CHAPTER 69

  Kareem came through after being sedated, looked around the dreary hospital room. He felt an IV in his hand and rated that as the lowest level of pain. His upper torso screamed for narcotics to take away the twinge.

  “You’re alive. Thank you, Jesus!” Toi, by his side, looked up at him and confirmed for him that he was alive. She cautiously hugged him.

  With slurred speech, he told her, “I love you. And the baby, too.”

  Good, she thought. His memory was fine. She thought that he was in a coma and possibly a vegetable, despite the physician drilling into her brain that he would be fine, when the morphine wore off. He suffered a shot to his clavicle, which pierced his humerus. They were in bandages.

  He fought for the strength to ask the question of the day. “Where’s my grandmother?” He scratched from morphine.

  She explained what Dre had informed her regarding the altercation at Jean-Mary’s. Kareem gathered all the strength, he could to sit up. Good, he thought, despite my legs being wobbly. They still work.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I gotta get to my grandmother, before the police get to me with questions about who shot me.” With each move he made
, the pain killed him, but he needed to help Jean-Mary. “I don’t even know who did this.” He could not let her down. There was no way that he would rest with her nowhere to be found. Pain or not, as long as he could walk and shoot a gun with his good right hand, he was leaving the hospital.

  “Kareem, Dre has everything under control.”

  Bullshit. “Where are my clothes, Toi? This ain’t up for discussion.”

  “Kareem, are you kidding me?”

  He spotted his clothes and told her to help him put on his clothes. “I’m out of here. If you try to stop me, you can get away from me, too. I have to find my grandmother, and you now damn well, I ain’t gonna stay here.” He was so upset that he pounded the bed.

  “Kareem, you can’t leave. Please, listen to me. There’s...”

  Kareem grabbed onto the bed rail and climbed out of it. He tip toed and winced in pain from each step. He made his way to the door, in the hospital gown. The hell with clothes. No one is gonna stop me, and Toi knows that!

  He reached the door and cringed from the pain, and the bright lights that shone in from the corridor. He tried to unfold the wheelchair that leaned against the wall. Toi looked on and wondered where he got the strength. He sat in the wheelchair and struggled to open the door. It opened. He rolled out into the corridor and gagged.

  CHAPTER 70

  “I must say, you look stunning in that gown. Even better than you did through my lens from atop that building.” McKenzey stared at Kareem’s dumbstruck face. The look was priceless. McKenzey grabbed his walkie-talkie cell phone and radioed for his colleagues, who were at the hospital cafeteria having breakfast. McKenzey stayed back to watch his prize, and he did not need breakfast. He was full of anticipation and hope.

  Kareem was visibly torn. How could Toi let this happen to me? She knew that this pussy was out here waiting for me! In anger, he tried to lunge at McKenzey, who stepped aside swiftly, and caused Kareem to slam hard to the floor. Toi rushed to his aid.