“I said, do you remember this place?” Leader kicked him in the ass again. Leader had taken the officer to the exact location where he had murdered James Jenkins, the young football star.
Officer Moose mumbled something incoherently. Tears trickled down his face as he realized this was how his time on earth would end. He knew why Leader had come for him. He had done many men wrong during his tenure on the force, but the Jenkins case was one that haunted him. He instinctively knew this was about the Jenkins case.
“Turn your punk ass over!” Leader flipped Moose over. Due to the way he was tied, his body was inverted. The only parts of him touching the ground were his head and his feet. Leader raised his leg high in the air and came down hard on Moose’s stomach. “This is for all my brothas and sistas you confined to misery just for being black!”
Leader aimed his silenced .357 right at Moose’s head and fired.
After Leader unloaded the pistol, he removed the tape from the handle then tossed it beside the body to allow investigators to lift fingerprints from the handle. He laughed at the thought of police searching for a dead man. He had imprinted the fingerprints of a corpse from a previous job onto the handle before having the gun shipped up from the Carolinas. He chuckled at the irony of the investigators looking for a dead man to solve the murder of another dead man.
On his way back to his cruiser (which would later be found roasted) Leader rubbed the detached finger inside his satchel. He had liberated the digit from Moose while he was still alive. The trigger finger was to be a gift to the family.
If they wanted it.
Chapter 5
Honk! Honk!
Justus looked out the window and saw Pug’s Suburban sitting pretty on 26-inch rims and tires.
“Dad! They here! I’m ’bout to go!” Justus yelled. He spared himself one last look in the mirror, adjusted his matching Akoo bucket and got ready to dip. “Damn, I forgot something,” he muttered to himself, doubling back to his dresser to rub on the Egyptian Musk Oil.
When he galloped downstairs, Leader was waiting on him at the door in his velvet robe. “Whoa son, where you rushing to?”
“I got a date, remember?”
Leader snapped his fingers, “Oh yeah! With Pug and Jackie, right?”
“Pug, Jackie, and Nikki,” Justus corrected, blushing.
“Alright. Here, take some money,” suggested Leader, digging into his robe.
“I’m straight. Pug gave me some.” Justus blurted out.
Leader looked at him speculatively, “What Pug give you money for?”
“Well, you know, I helped him, um, move that night so he let me hold a li’l something,” Justus lied.
“Oh yeah?” Leader questioned, looking Justus in his eyes with that penetrating stare of his. Justus swore his father was looking at his soul. It felt like it anyway.
“Uh, yeah.”
Leader narrowed his eyes, “How little something?”
“Couple yards,” whispered Justus. Leader wasn’t buying it.
“Tell Pug to come inside.” Leader stepped aside to let his son pass.
“Dad, we already late as it is!” Justus objected. “What? You don’t trust me or something?”
Leader weighed his next words carefully before responding, “Yeah, I trust you, but let me tell you something . . .” Leader placed both his hands on his son’s shoulders and buried his gaze even deeper, “Don’t you ever lie to me. Nothing is that bad that you have to lie. I don’t care if you kill a nigga. Don’t lie to me about it.”
Justus gulped. Did Leader know about that night?
“You understand, Jus? Never! If anything, I’ll help you bury the body. Got it?” Justus nodded. “Good. Now, get out of here. I got a date.”
“With who?”
“Yo’ mama, fool. We got the house to ourselves tonight,” Leader announced with freaky implications.
“Awww Pop. Spare me! That’s T.M.I.”
“T.M. who?”
“Too much information,” Justus laughed.
“Aww, Negro, please. When you ready to step up with Nikki, I’ll show you how to lock it down,” Leader joked.
“A’ight, a’ight.”
Suddenly Leader turned serious, “Seriously though, be careful out there. And stay with Pug. I can trust Pug. He won’t steer you wrong. He respects what I’m trying to do.”
Sheeeeit! If you only knew, thought Justus.
Leader passed Justus a knot of money. “Take this. You can never have enough money with a woman like Nikki.”
“Thanks.”
Outside when Justus climbed in the back of the Suburban, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Leader knew something. However, when he saw Nikki’s hand extended, offering to help him climb up, all his previous thoughts vanished.
Nikki was wearing a black, sleeveless catsuit, made of a wool-linen blend. The fabric was stretched tight across her shapely hips, which were accented by her sitting down, with her legs crossed at the ankles. Her hair was swept up into a bun with a bang left hanging to cover her forehead. Her jewels were representing everywhere. Fingers. Wrist. Neck. Toes. Ears. Everything was dripping, showing the signs of a well-kept woman. Justus wondered if he was biting off more than he could chew.
“ ’Sup Jus?” Nikki greeted in her sexy squawk. Her sweet fragrance claimed the confines of the truck.
“What’s up, peoples?”
“Cuz-o!” Pug responded with enthusiasm.
“Heey Jus,” Jackie cooed, with a smirk on her face.
Pug turned the music up and pulled out of the driveway. The four 15-inch subwoofers and four separate component sets made the truck sound like Reggae Sunsplash! as Buju Banton’s guttural drawl echoed through the truck’s confines. Up front, Pug was putting fire to a stick of kind bud, when he saw bubblegum flash in his rearview.
“Shit!” Pug swore. He muted the sound system and dropped the blunt into the center console. When the security transporter passed them, Pug exhaled, expressing his displeasure. “Gotdamn man, why y’all gotta live way the fuck out here wit’ these uppity mu’fuckas? Y’all too good for common folk? Damn, rent-a-cops ’bout to give me a heart attack.”
Pug was referring to their upper middle-class neighborhood, of course. Justus’s family lived in a subdivision off Ramsey Street. The homes started at half a million dollars. Because of a recent rash of break-ins, the community now boasted a series of security substations.
“Man, I ain’t got no say in where we live,” Justus said, looking through the back window for any sign of security. “But I’m glad I don’t live in the hood. Who the fuck want to live bad?” Justus snapped. He was still a little vexed about Pug playing him. Since the incident had occurred, the two had only spoken once to confirm their date.
“Yeah nigga, whatever.”
“Pug, leave Justus alone.”
“Oh shit, look at that,” Pug laughed, covering his mouth. To him, it was comical that Nikki was stepping in to defend Justus. “A’ight, Nikki, be warned: I’ll put both y’all asses to kicking rocks. Cute or not.”
Jackie turned around in her seat shaking her head. “No he won’t, gurl. Pug just acting out. Don’t pay him no mind.”
“A’ight. Think I won’t.”
“Anyway. Y’all know what we going to see, right?” When no one answered, Jackie told them. “That new movie, For the Love of the Beat. Y’all remember? It’s about the rapper dude, Qwess. It’s telling all about how his crew came up. A lot of it was shot right here in Fayetteville,” she informed them.
“You getting real excited over there, talking ’bout that nigga.” Pug noticed. “Let me find out.”
“Oh please. I got my Bookie.” Jackie wrapped her arms around Pug and kissed him on his cheek while he drove. Pug blushed unabashedly and Jackie returned to her synopsis. “It’s supposed to be shot by his new film company. The news say he supposed to be there tonight.”
Pug scoffed, “Fuck he gon’ do that. When I was in the clink, I read in a m
agazine he got knocked for conspiracy to commit murder. Some shit about he paid somebody to kill the broad that used to run his old record label. You remember she got murked, right Jus?”
Justus piped up from the backseat, “Yeah, I remember, but ole’ boy beat that case. You know he got that bread. Nigga got old dope money, plus he married that broad, Lisa Ivory.”
“No doubt,” Pug agreed.
“And his partner King Reece was paid before he got killed. You know he ain’t take all that dough wit’ him,” Justus added.
“Shit, the nigga tried. You know he got buried in a mosque or some shit.”
“You mean put in a mausoleum?” Jackie corrected. “You don’t get buried when you in a mausoleum.”
“Well, what the fuck ever, bitch,” Pug spat dismissively. Nikki gasped while looking at Justus to gauge his reaction. “Like I was saying, the nigga got put in a mausoleum. I saw that in the magazine too.”
“Is that all you did was read magazines?” Jackie queried, obviously letting it be known that she had been offended by Pug’s words.
But Pug was not about to concede power.
He noticed Jackie had been getting slick out the mouth lately any damn way. It was time to put her ass back in check, lest the balance of power be upset.
“Nah, that ain’t all I read. I read them freaky ass letters you used to send. Jacked off on them mu’fuckas ’bout every night too. Right along wit’ dem freaky ass pictures you sent wit’ your shit all bust open too. Now!” Pug sneered at Jackie to drive his point home. Jackie pouted her lips then blasted the radio to drown out Pug’s insolence.
In the backseat, Nikki was holding Justus’s hand. She leaned over and whispered in his ear, “I hope that’s not how you treat your women.”
“Nah, I can be mean in the street. When I come home, all I want is sweetness.” Justus assured her, flashing his pearly whites.
“Hm-mmm. That’s what they all say.”
“You’ll see.”
“How will I see?” Nikki teased. Justus nudged closer to Nikki, draped his arm around her.
“Cause I’ma make you my woman,” he stated confidently.
“What makes you so sure?”
“I told you, I’m an eternal optimist.”
“Optimism is good,” Nikki acknowledged. She snuggled further underneath Justus’s arm. For the remainder of the ride, they exchanged small talk.
When they arrived at Omni Theaters, traffic was at a standstill. The movie was being shown as the dollar movie on opening night out of love for the city. The movie’s executive producers, Qwess and Rolando, were hometown favorites. Fayetteville embraced them for their contributions to the entertainment industry. Qwess, along with his slain comrade King Reece, was once at the helm of the notorious Crescent Crew, a gang of young, wealthy, ruthless drug-dealers that once controlled a substantial part of the southern drug trade. Upon Qwess’s release from prison, he formed his own record label and sold 50,000 records independently. His label, A.B.P., eventually became the envy of the industry. Qwess and his business manager, Doe, had started a film company to tell their stories and other stories of the street. Both Qwess sand Rolando were married to R&B starlets. Judging by the long line dripping from inside the theater, the executive producers must have been present. The movie wasn’t expected to begin for another hour.
“Damn, this shit is thick!” Pug exclaimed, turning the music down to be heard. A plethora of new luxury vehicles flooded the parking lot along with rimmed out Cadillacs, and the Fayetteville staple, Oldsmobile Ninety-Eights.
Pug navigated his way through the parking lot, having to stop every few feet to let someone walk in front of the truck. A chick walked by with an ass so fat it was hanging out the bottom of her shorts. Pug had to feign a cough to keep his cool. When he lifted his head, a car in front of him was flicking its headlights repeatedly. At first, Pug didn’t recognize the car. When he left the street, it was just a regular Olds Ninety-Eight. The car flagging him down now was coated with a beautiful, shiny purple paint job, and sitting on them thangs: Trues and vogues. However, Pug still recognized the vanity plate attached to the front. It read A.B.
When Pug drew next to car, he rolled down his window, “What up, Dawg?”
“What’s the bidness, P-U-Gee?!” A.B. yelled. “I heard yo’ ass was home. Fuck you ain’t holla at me?”
Pug leaned down out of the truck to give A.B. some dap. “You know how it is. I wanted to get back on my feet first.”
“Sheeit, nigga, look like you still standing tall to me,” commented A.B., sizing up the big rims on Pug’s Suburban.
“Oh, I am now. I’m standing like a giant now,” Pug informed him in the discreet way that let him know that if he wanted to cop some work, everything was everything. “What up wit’ chu? Look like you done came up.”
A.B. seemed a little uncomfortable answering, “Yeah no doubt,” he admitted, cutting his eye at the beauty seated in his passenger seat. “So, you know I need to see you.”
“A’ight, just hit me up later. What’s up in there. You seen the movie?’
“Yeah, shit blazing, dawg. Huh babe?” A.B. tapped his date on the leg. She agreed with him. “That nigga Qwess in there with his boy, Doe. They in there signing autographs. Niggas wives wit’ em too. Broads fine as hell.” A.B. couldn’t pass up the observation. Pug smirked and was in the process of offering a comment of his own until the trailing car blew its horn for him to move. Pug swore under his breath, but moved nonetheless.
In the backseat, Justus was still laying his mack game down with Nikki. So far everything was going well.
“Ooh, I like that,” Nikki pointed across the parking lot to an arrest-me red Porsche GT parked beside a black McLaren 720S. Both cars were backed into their spaces in V.I.P. fashion. Sitting still, both cars looked fast.
“Yeah, it’s hot. I’ve always liked Porsches. I’ma get me one. If you play your cards right, I’ll let you drive it.” Justus told Nikki.
“Damn, Daddy, if you digging me like you say you are, you should buy me my own,” Nikki said, spitting game. It was obvious how she had amassed the precious stones she wore that were still lighting up the truck’s interior.
“You should think bigger, Babygirl. You ride with me I’m going to give you the world. To put you in a Porsche is nothing.”
“Um-hmmm. Promises, promises.”
As they exited the vehicle, Nikki was in deep thought reflecting on Justus. It turned out he was very mature for his age, and his confidence was refreshing to see in a man. He really felt that he could take on the world. Nikki was convinced also. She couldn’t deny that she was really feeling him. With a little training, he could be a good man, she thought. There was something about molding a man to her exact requirements that appealed to her.
Justus was in deep thought as well. He meant every word he had told Nikki. He had adored her from afar, and lusted up close for most of his life. If given the chance, he planned to spoil her rotten. Fuck her boyfriend in the clink! She was out with him now, and he was going to do everything in his power to ensure there were many dates to come. Justus had learned a long time ago, when one man’s away, another man steps in to play daddy. That’s just what he intended to do.
* * *
Leader looked at himself in the mirror, scrutinizing every inch of his body. At forty-seven, Leader could easily pass for ten to fifteen years younger. His wonderful physique was attributed to his rigorous workout regimen. Leader had a home gym installed in the attic, which he visited five days a week. He also adhered to Eastern arts, from yoga to several different forms of martial arts. Leader took great pains not to bulk up. In his profession, one had to be able to maintain an unassuming and anonymous look. You could always add more clothing to appear bigger, but once you were so big, it was next to impossible to appear considerably slimmer. This was why Leader maintained himself at an even two hundred pounds, which fit perfectly on his six-foot-one-inch frame.
Leader heard someone come in
downstairs. After slipping on a pair of silk boxers, he rushed down to investigate. His wife was coming through the door.
Glenda was wearing a snazzy royal blue skirt suit with a white silk blouse. Blue heels with a silver spike set the ensemble off. She wore no stockings, putting her shapely legs on display. Even though she had not run track in over twenty years, her round calves still looked like they belonged on a track. Glenda was an age-defying beauty. If forty was the new thirty for the millennium woman, Glenda was twenty. She followed a strict diet and exercise routine, and she benefited tremendously from it.
Leader absolutely adored his wife. He lived to please Glenda. Anything she wished for was his command. From the first day he set eyes on her, he had to have her by any means. If life was a game, Glenda was the prize.
“Hey baby, you scared me,” said Glenda when she noticed Leader camped out by the steps. Upon closer observation, Glenda asked, “What are you up to?”
“Come see,” Leader challenged.
“I think I will.” Glenda sauntered over toward the steps where Leader wrapped her into his embrace with a kiss. After savoring Glenda’s taste, he ordered her to remove her clothes.
“What?” Glenda asked, unsure. “Where’s Justus?”
“Out. It’s just us.”
After hearing this, Glenda complied with the request. She began a seductive dance, stripping off layer after layer. When she was done, Leader loaded her into his powerful arms and carried her upstairs where he proceeded to gift to her one of his special massages. Leader was so versed in massage therapy, he could have been a masseuse. This was one of the many things he learned during his world travels. Glenda looked forward to his massages because he always provided a “full release.” When Glenda rolled over on her back to accommodate Leader, her hard nipples pierced the air like missiles. Leader noticed, and a part of him hardened as well, however it would be the better part of an hour before he consummated his lust. For Leader, Glenda was the music that soothed the beast in him. As he stroked his wife, he recalled how they met.
Blood Ties Page 5