Uh-oh. Justus didn’t wear Timbs anymore.
BLOOOM!
Justus blew the chain lock off with one of his .44’s then kicked the door off its hinges. Storming into the house with both weapons drawn, he first spotted Panee cowering on the floor, her eyes plastered on the bedroom door. Justus cautiously approached the bedroom door, listened briefly, then kicked it open with weapons pointing in each direction.
He spotted him tucked in the closet with his knees drawn under him. He was naked except for socks and a pair of black boxer-briefs. He wore braids in his hair and pure fear on his face. His eyes were transfixed on the platinum barrels of Justus’s guns.
Justus reached in the closet and snatched dude out by his braids.
“Pl-please don’t kill me, man,” the scrawny guy begged. Panee bust into the room and screamed when she saw Justus with the guy’s hair in the same hand he held his gun.
“Justus wait . . . Don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“This . . . Not like this. He’s innocent. He doesn’t know about you.”
“Oh, so it’s your skanky ass I should shoot,” he pointed his other gun at her. She drew her hands to her face in defense. Justus didn’t shoot her, he chastised her, “You stank hoe. After all the shit I did for you. When the world gave you it’s ass to kiss, I picked you up. And you do me like this wit’ a broke, punk-ass pussy muthafucka?!” Justus was heated. “Look at him! He can’t even protect you! He more a bitch than you!”
The dude was speechless. Inwardly, he prayed for his life.
“Do you have any IDEA the things I do for you to live like this? You trifling whore!”
“Hey man that’s en—” The guy tried to speak, but that was all he got out before Justus smashed the butt of the gun into his head and fired a round simultaneously.
“Aaah!” Panee screamed when her paramour crumpled to the floor and began pissing on himself.
“You silly muthafucka!” Justus yelled at the fallen lame. He aimed his pistol at his head. The red beam danced around his eyes. Justus was in a daze, begging for a reason, beginning to feel the power that accompanied a kill.
“FREEZE!! DROP YOUR WEAPON!!”
Justus turned and saw a dozen Cumberland County and City of Fayetteville police officers with guns pointed at him. He shot Panee a death glare before surrendering.
“Shit.”
Chapter 28
Justus was processed at the downtown Fayetteville jailhouse, better known as Cumberland County Detention Center. Through the whole fingerprinting ordeal, complete with mug shots, Justus hoped his story held up. He had told the police he was a security consultant for major executive firms. He was twenty-two years old and his guns were legal. Justus pronounced his words professionally, provided phony registration for his weapons, and a phony driver’s license with his real birthday, but an exaggerated year. As a result of this, he was just being charged with assault, reckless endangerment, and discharging a firearm into a private dwelling. For now.
After Justus was processed, they allowed him to make a phone call. He didn’t want to call Nikki because she would want to know what happened. His mother was going through a crisis also, so he didn’t want to upset her. And of course he didn’t know Leader’s whereabouts. So he phoned his Aunt Gloria. He told her the short version of what happened, told her NOT to tell Nikki or his mom, and call back at the jailhouse at six. It was still early in the day so Justus anticipated he would make the night court session, get a bond, and be out.
As it turned out, he didn’t make the night court session due to an already full docket (apparently everyone was acting up in the ’Nam.) Justus was transferred upstairs to GP or General Population. He just knew things were too good to be true.
The C.O. escorted Justus to a cell-block after issuing him a blanket, mattress, one sheet, and a hygiene kit which consisted of a comb, toothbrush, one bar of soap, a washcloth, and towel. The cellblock consisted of four two-man cells in a straight line with a large six-man cell at the end. All were facing a glass window that ran the entire length of the wall, enabling the prisoners to look outside at downtown Fayetteville. Unfortunately, there were bars that ran parallel to the window. The bars were closest to the cell block, and a walkway between the windows and bars allowed C.O.’s to walk through to observe the cell block without actually going inside. On one end of the “rock” was a T.V., radio, and two tables for activities. On the opposite end, was another television, but it was always out of order.
Justus carried his things into cell #4. Much to his surprise—and pleasure—he was the only one assigned to the cell. He placed his mattress on the bottom bunk, threw his hygiene kit in the sink, and plopped on the bed. He never made the bed up. He didn’t plan on being there long. Justus laid down on his back, looking up at the iron-cast bunk above him and thought about how he got into his predicament. He knew he shouldn’t have fucked up with Nikki again. He should have kept his promise to leave Panee alone. Now look at him. As soon as he was released in the morning, he was going to scoop her and the kids up, and take them out of town somewhere until the word on the street subsided.
Justus’s keen senses felt someone watching him. He raised his head a little to see, and noticed a skinny, bald-head dude at his cell door. His jump-suit was pulled down to his waist, exposing at tatted-up torso, and his feet occupied bright orange shower shoes. He leaned against the bar, casually watching Justus.
Justus had never been to jail, but Pug had told him enough stories for him to know he had to let it be known off the rip: he was not the one to fuck with.
“Sup, dawg,” the guy responded, flashing a starter kit of gold teeth.
“You know me or sump’in?”
“Naw.”
“Then why da fuck you staring at me, dawg?” Justus could still get gutter. Living well hadn’t spoiled him too much.
“You look familiar that’s all.”
“Yo, you don’t know me, dawg.”
“I’m saying tho . . . You look like the dude on the news, dawg. Yo’ name Justus?” The guy asked pointing his finger at Justus.
“Fuck you talking ’bout?!” Justus exploded from the bed.
“Dawg, you on T.V. right now.” The guy gestured toward the corner. Justus stood to investigate. Before he made it to the corner where the T.V. sat, he saw his mug shot plastered across the television screen.
“Damn!!!” So much for Nikki not knowing.
Again: shots were fired inside an upscale apartment complex. No one was seriously injured. Details are sketchy.
But it appears the incident stemmed from a domestic dispute. One man was taken to the hospital.
The man who was taken into custody is named Justus . . .
Nikki flipped the plasma television off before slamming the remote to the floor.
“Can you believe this shit!” Nikki screamed to Jackie who was sitting right beside her watching the whole ordeal unfold. “Nikki, I love you. Nikki it’s me and you babe. Family first,’ ” she mocked. “The whole while he was sponsoring that trick! Oooh!”
“Calm down, Nik. You know how it is. Shit. Here, hit this,” Jackie passed Nikki the blunt full of the purple haze they had swiped from Justus’s stash. Since Pug was gone, Jackie spent her days in a haze-induced stupor. “You know dude’s gon’ have chicks on the side. Your man is paid, so expect it. Hell, he keep you laced and he’s a great provider so just accept it. Don’t he bring the dick home to you every night? A’ight then.”
Nikki heard what Jackie was saying, but she’d rather be hot. Justus had betrayed her trust. Again. She took the blunt Jackie offered her and toked away her problems.
Nikki’s phone rang. She looked at the caller I.D. and decided to let it continue ringing. It stopped then shrieked again five minutes later. It was Jackie who answered the phone.
“Hello,” she barked. “Hold on . . . here.” She passed the receiver to Nikki.
“I don’t want it.”
“Here,” Jackie
insisted. Nikki finally accepted the phone.
“Hello?’
“Nikki? Baby Girl?”
“What Justus?”
“Look, don’t be upset. It’s not like it appears.”
“Oh, you ain’t in jail for fighting over another bitch?”
“Nah yo.”
“Hmph. That’s what it appears like to me. That’s what it appears like on T.V. too.”
“Baby Girl, it ain’t like that.”
“How I’m supposed to feel Justus? You got me looking stupid as shit!” Nikki exploded into the phone.
“Hold up. Hold up. My aunt Glo on the three-way.”
“Don’t worry ’bout me, Nikki.” Gloria chimed in from the third line. “Curse his dumb-ass out.”
“Aunt Glo?”
“Aunt Glo my ass! Go ’head Nikki.” Nikki continued to wear Justus out until she was tired. Justus, being in the wrong, had to accept it. When she was done, he continued his spiel.
“Baby Girl, listen I need you down here with Aunt Glo first thing in the morning. All that other sh-stuff we’ll deal with later, but I must get out of here. A’ight?”
“Okay.”
“Good. Now look inside my closet and—holdup—Aunt Glo, put the phone down a second.” A clunk was heard through the line. “A’ight. Look inside my blue gators and,” Justus paused. “Aunt Glo!?”
“Alright. Alright,” Gloria really put the phone down this time.
“Look inside my burgundy gators, get the key, and go inside the wall safe. Get ten stacks. You never know what these people will try. Got it?”
“Yeah, Jus.”
“A’ight. See you in the morning. I love you.”
“Whateva.” Click. Nikki hung up the phone. She was giving Justus hell, but deep inside she knew she wasn’t going anywhere. Jackie was right. Justus did take care of her. He kept her laced in the finest fashions. He kept a well-maintained roof over her head, and their garage looked like a car lot. Her personal fleet made her look like a mathematician with all the numbers she pushed: 430’s, 600’s 750’s. All the luxury cars represented in her stable. So, while she wasn’t going to let Justus forget his transgression, she was going to hold him down. No matter what.
* * *
The following morning Justus was snatched from his cell bright and early, and taken to a room where he waited with a gang of other guys. When it was finally his turn, he entered a room where there was a T.V. monitor with a bench in front of it. From the television, a voice said, “Take a seat on the bench son.” Justus did as instructed. The voice belonged to a judge. On the screen he sat behind a bench in a courtroom somewhere far off.
This was to be Justus’s arraignment.
Justus couldn’t believe how impersonal the so-called legal system was. The judge read the charges off like he was reciting ingredients off a box. In the end, his bond was set at $50,000. North Carolina law required 15%, so he was looking at $7,500, cash. Justus chuckled on his way out the door. Shit, he almost had that much in his personal property already!
As expected he’d be home in no time. When he returned to his cellblock he tried to call home, but couldn’t get an answer. He assumed it was because they were already en route to bond him out. Leaving the phone corner, Justus noticed a new guy had been brought in. He looked vaguely familiar, but Justus couldn’t place where he knew him from and he didn’t lose a second trying to figure it out. He just retired to his bunk to wait on his name to be called.
He dozed off and the next thing he heard was, “Moore! Bag and Baggage!!”
Justus recognized his name, but not the command that followed. It wasn’t until the new guy from earlier called him by name and told him, did he know he had made bond.
“You need help, man?” New Guy asked. For some reason he was treating Justus with deference.
“Nah, I’m straight.”
“A’ight. Take care,” New Guy responded then added, “And tell Nikki, Chuck said what’s up.”
Justus froze in his tracks. “Whatchu say?”
“Nikki your wife, right?” New Guy asked.
“How you know my wife?” Justus’s tone let him know the wrong answer could be detrimental to his health.
“Naw, man. It ain’t like that,” New Guy replied, suddenly getting scared, “I’m from Grove View. I used to stay beside her back in the day. She’s like my big sister. I remember you too,” Chuck stated matter-of-factly. The way he said it let Justus know he was implying something.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. You good peoples.” Chuck extended a pound. After a brief hesitation, Justus dapped him up.
“Moore, let’s go if you going!” The C.O. called out. Justus stepped through the door, without pause.
Downstairs, after receiving his personal property, he met up with Nikki, Jackie, and Gloria in the lobby. They had a balding black guy with them. Justus assumed this was the bondsman. He was right. As the bondsman informed Justus of the conditions of his release, Justus looked at Nikki carefully.
Damn she fine, he thought.
Nikki was wearing a blood-red two-piece skirt suit with black four-inch pumps. Her hair was pulled up into a bun and her juicy lips modeled lipstick the color of her suit. She looked like a lawyer.
After Justus signed the papers they left the precinct.
Outside on the sidewalk, Justus was hugging Nikki while they headed toward the truck, whispering apologies in her ear. Out of nowhere they were accosted by two tall white men in dark suits.
“Justus Moore?” One of them asked digging into his pocket.
“Yeah—why?”
“We have a warrant for your arrest. Deputies take him into custody.”
“Man what the—get off me!” Justus pleaded as the deputies snapped cuffs on him.
“You’re under arrest for the murder for Jacques McNeil. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say . . .” Justus looked to Nikki. “Call a lawyer.”
Nikki burst into tears.
Chapter 29
This time when Justus went before the judge things were drastically different. Judge Blake scowled at Justus from his bench as he denied him bond. After that, Justus was shackled, then manhandled over to the County side where inmates were housed to await trial.
The following morning, Justus was snatched from his cell bright and early and taken to a holding cell, where he waited a full two hours on hard concrete. From there he was taken to an interrogation room, where he waited another hour in silence, shackled to a chair. When his patience was too thin to measure, he dozed off, only to be awakened by two visitors.
Justus immediately pegged the two men as D.T.’s. As always, one was black and one was white. The white detective looked like a marine reject all the way down to his spit-shined loafers. The black detective was dressed like a hip-hop star, draped in platinum jewelry, walking on Timberland boots.
“What’s up, my brother?” The black detective greeted then added. “I’m Jason.” Justus remained silent. “we’re here investigating a murder. Ah, maybe you can help us out here.” Justus still didn’t speak as he looked off into space. Jason motioned for his white colleague to step out. When he was gone, Jason pulled a chair close to Justus.
“Look here brother, these are some pretty serious allegations against you,” Jason stated. “Now these crackers wanna see you fry. Me . . . I wanna help you get the best deal possible, but you gotta help yourself or these muthafuckas gonna hang you.”
“These muthafuckas?” Justus finally said.
“Yeah.”
“Well you wit’ ’em, so I guess that makes you a muthafucka too.”
Detective Jason chuckled. “Nah, I’m just a black man trying to do my job, which is to help brothas get outta tough situations.”
“You wanna help me?”
“Yeah.”
“You wanna help me?”
“Yeah!”
“Well take these cuffs off and open the fuckin’ gates!”
“Now you know I
can’t do that,” Detective Jason sighed. “For god’s sake, you cut a man’s dick off and stuffed it in his mouth!”
“I ain’t do shit.”
“Allegedly.”
“Won’t you allegedly get the fuck outta my face!” Justus turned his chair to the side.
“A’ight little brother. Can’t say I ain’t try to help.” Detective Jason stood and let his partner in.
The detective rushed in and got in Justus’s face like a drill sergeant spitting, “Oh you wanna play tough you little shit! Huh! You gonna tell us what we wanna know! You’re gonna confess to this goddamn murder right now so we can all get the fuck outta here! I got a hot meal waiting and an even hotter wife. If I have to miss either one I’ma fuck you up but good!”
Justus sucked his teeth.
Whap! The chair smacked the floor full-force with Justus in it. The suddenness of the attack surprised Justus and he started to react, but didn’t wish to reveal his hands. His plan was to play the sheep for now. He knew murder interrogations were recorded so he wanted to appear as docile as possible so as not to show any sign of a propensity for violence. Nevertheless, the wolf would appear when he exacted retribution on the bastard who had his knee in his chest at the present moment.
“You think I’m playing, cocksucker! I will beat you all night long. Now CONFESS!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Justus pleaded through jagged breaths, “I’m a businessman.”
The detective cackled loudly before sitting Justus back up in the chair. “I like you kid. You’re clever and you’ve got balls. . . But it’s my job to castrate niggers.” With that he smacked fire out of Justus causing him to fall again.
The beating went on for forty-five minutes, but Justus’s steely resolve never faltered and he never showed weakness. Justus never even let out a whimper as smack after smack rained across his face.
Justus wasn’t allowed to call his lawyer or anyone else for three days. Each day Nikki came to visit only to be refused entry. When she finally did get to see Justus, it was through a glass. He wasted no time issuing orders.
Blood Ties Page 19