Dirty Tricks

by Kiki Swinson

  “Unfortunately not, Karlie. Ashton King is one of the biggest drug lords in the world. He came over from Jamaica fifteen years ago and made millions in a short time. He tried to keep his money clean by opening a series of legitimate businesses . . . like the EZ Cash payday loan storefronts. That was the money he used to keep all of his government officials paid off, to buy legitimate houses and cars. It was his clean way of handling millions of dollars in illicit cash. But you messed that all up,” Detective Castle said. His words exploded like small bombs in my ears. I had no idea I had stepped into the path of not just a dangerous man, but from what I was hearing, a dangerous family.

  “From what I’ve learned, the entire King family is notorious. Their lineage is made up of dangerous drug kingpins who have no mercy when it comes to their enemies. Jay King is next in line since his cousin, Ashton, is locked up. They all know you’re responsible, and that whole incident with the EZ Cash robberies shed a lot of light on the Kings’ empire. Light that dangerous men like that don’t take too kindly to having shone on them. That is why it’s so important that you lay low . . . for good. Never to return to the city. Start a new life with your grandmother and just fade away. From what I hear, this guy is young, carefree, with no cares and probably much more ruthless than his big cousin, El Jefe. Trust me, these are men who have nothing to lose, and they’re more interested in revenge than money. But they also have a lot of people they’re on the hook to, so even if it stops with them, if you don’t disappear for good . . . it may not be over for good.”

  I swallowed hard and closed my eyes for a few seconds. “So you heard all of this from other police? That seems like a lot of information coming from cops. What? Y’all got an insider? An informant or something?” I pressed.

  “We have our sources. That’s not important right now. What’s important is that you stay safe. You have to trust me on this one. Just move on. I know Miley was important to you and you may be thinking about revenge, but you have to understand what you’re dealing with here.”

  “What’s the talk in the streets?” I asked. I knew for damn sure that the streets were always talking. I knew that if any place had the real scope, it would be the ghetto news. It was where the most valuable information came from. Hands down, the rumblings on the streets were much more accurate than anything stupid cops could develop on their own.

  “Word is, Jay King has put an unofficial one-hundred-thousand-dollar bounty on your head. Some say he’s offering more. Some say he’s offering less. My guess is it is probably more. The King family has big money. Money is not an issue for them. They have enough money to pay a gang of hit men, which is why Miley and Sidney are dead. My sources say the word hasn’t gotten as far as it could yet, but it’s getting there. I’m sorry to say this, Karlie . . . but you’re in a lot of danger if you don’t stay away,” Detective Castle said sorrowfully.

  I contemplated what he was saying, and all sorts of things began swirling around in my mind—a drug cartel family is after me now; there’s a bounty on my head; Sidney was married and I’ll never even get to say a final goodbye to him; I’m living in terrible conditions with my grimy family members; and, worst of all, this is all happening while I’m all alone, without my sister.

  “It is what it is, Detective,” I said, throwing my hands up in surrender. “What else can they do to me? I’m alone, with no life anyway. Trust me, the way I feel right now, looking at my sister in that pine box, stiff and lifeless, this person may be in more danger than me,” I gritted, stomping away from Detective Castle. I meant every word of it too. Fear was an emotion I had become so used to it didn’t even have the same effect on me anymore.

  I heard the gravel crunching under Detective Castle’s feet and knew he had turned around to follow me with his eyes. He probably wanted to know what the hell I was thinking about. He probably thought I had finally snapped apart and lost my mind.

  I would’ve told him if he’d asked. Seeing my sister in that casket and hearing that the love of my life had a secret life that didn’t include me had changed something inside me. My fear had morphed into a huge, white-hot ball of anger and desire for revenge all wrapped into one. At that moment, I had decided that this person Jay King that Detective Castle seemed to think was so big and bad would have to find me before I devised a plan to find him first. God was going to be the only one who could save him once Karlie Houston put her mind to destroying him. From that moment forward I was not only running for my life, I was on a mission to end someone else’s life.

  CHAPTER 10

  SETTING THINGS UP ONCE AND FOR ALL

  For two days after my sister’s private service and my conversation with Detective Castle, I couldn’t eat or sleep. I finally decided to take action.

  The third night, I had lain awake for hours waiting for the House to finally be silent. The constant arguing between Granny Houston and Darwin was driving me crazy, especially because I was still feeling crazy over the information I had gotten from Detective Castle.

  It was three o’clock in the morning before that bastard Darwin finally went to bed. I climbed down from the attic and crept through the House being as careful as possible not to make any noise. That was a big feat in itself. I wasn’t a skinny chick, so walking on those old wooden floors was like walking on a tightrope. The floors were so creaky and noisy that I had to stop at least three times to make sure no one heard me.

  I held my breath as I tiptoed past Darwin’s room. His door was cracked and I could hear him snoring like a bear. He had probably gotten drunk like usual and crashed. I usually hated when he got drunk and started acting belligerent, but at that moment his drunken state was working in my favor.

  Granny Houston’s door was closed, so I knew she wouldn’t see or hear me. Everything was diminishing for my grandmother—her sight, her hearing, and even her good sense. She had also been doing a lot of crying lately, a major vulnerability in her that I had never witnessed as a child. It was really weird for me to see her like that. I never thought she would be so weak in her old age. I was grateful she and I had had our soft moment.

  I finally made it to the back room where the washroom and back door were located. Darwin kept his car keys on a peg by the back door. I spotted them, and something inside me jerked. My nerves were on a wire’s edge, but I had to forge forward. It was now or never for this power move I was making.

  With my chest heaving, I finally made it to the peg and gently eased the keys from it. I clutched them in my hand like I had just found a hidden treasure. I waited a few seconds and listened for any noises. Each step of this mission was important. I already had a story formulated in my head if Darwin happened to bust me out there with his keys in my hand.

  After a few long minutes of listening, I realized the House was still silent. Darwin wasn’t creeping up behind me, and I was almost there. I let out a puff of breath and slowly twisted the back door’s knob slowly. The door made a loud squeaky noise. The sound almost gave me a damn heart attack.

  “Shit,” I huffed under my breath, stopping again to make sure Darwin didn’t come running after me. When nothing happened, I continued out the door. I pulled the door in behind me but didn’t lock it.

  Once I was in the yard and felt the night air cool on my face, I inhaled, held my breath, and darted to Darwin’s car. I opened the door and hastily slid behind the steering wheel. Every muscle in my body was tense with fear and anxiety. My chest was pumping up and down so hard I could barely catch my breath. My hands trembled so badly I could barely get the key in the ignition, but I finally did after three tries.

  A warm feeling of relief washed over me when I cranked the car and threw it into drive. It didn’t matter if Darwin had heard the engine revving at that point, because by then I was already driving away. Free and clear.

  I can’t lie, though. As I drove away from the House, all I heard was Detective Castle’s voice playing in my mind like a broken record: This is why you need to stay out of town, Karlie. You need to stay away
from the city where anyone might spot you, recognize you, and ultimately find you. It’s too dangerous for you to ever return to where you’re from. The protection program can only help you if you follow the rules. If you break the rules, you only put yourself in harm’s way with no chance of us protecting you. We are not liable if you don’t stick to the program.

  I waved my hand near my head to rid it of all of those intrusive thoughts. Forget all of that. I had made up my mind. I wasn’t about to sit in my grandmother’s house and be caught out there like a lame duck waiting for this Jay King character to find me. I wanted to find his ass first. I had always been the confront-my-problems-head-on type of chick. If I could get to my enemies first, that’s how I liked to play the game. I guess you could say I was proactive whereas most chicks—and dudes, for that matter—were reactive.

  It took an hour for me to get to my girl Aisha’s house. She had gotten a car accident settlement check a couple of years back and moved out of our old hood where we used to live in the state-funded apartments. Now she lived on a tree-lined block of medium-sized houses that all looked the same except for the different color shutters on the fronts. Those houses looked so much alike, I had to roll through the block twice before I spotted Aisha’s car, which told me I had found her house.

  Shit, if Aisha wasn’t such a hood queen and didn’t have tags that said Bad Bee (meaning bad bitch) I might’ve missed the house altogether. Yes, Aisha Campbell, reformed hood rat, had moved up in the world. But you know what they say . . . you can take the girl out of the hood, but you can’t take the hood out of the girl. I looked at those personalized plates and smiled.

  I hadn’t seen Aisha in over a year. I can’t even remember what happened that had kept us apart so long this time. It was so commonplace for Aisha and me to fall out and make up that half the time neither one of us remembered what we had been fighting about the next time we saw one another. I was sure it would be like that this time too. I had a deep love for Aisha that no matter what would never really fade.

  Aisha and I had been friends since we were eight or nine years old, but we had the kind of relationship that had so many ups and downs that sometimes we would be the best of friends and other times we behaved like enemies toward each other. A few of the times Aisha and I had fallen out was over he said/she said, but for the most part, there was never a complete loss of love between us. She had proven herself to be a ride-or-die type of friend more than a few times. And no matter how old we got and how far we might’ve grown apart, I could never forget how we met in the first place.

  It was the first day of third grade and my first day at a brand-new school. My mother had decided to move for the tenth time that year. But the neighborhood she’d chosen that time had to be the worst we’d ever lived in.

  Recess time had come, and I walked out onto the raggedy playground, alone.

  “Look at her. She’s a bum,” a big, fat girl named Cora pointed at me and taunted. The little group she was with all started to laugh. I heard them and saw them, but for some reason I still looked over my shoulder as if I thought they were referring to someone else. I mean, I wasn’t bothering anybody. I had been quiet the entire first day in my new school, so why would I think these girls would pick on me? I was wrong. Before long, Cora and her little group of loyal followers had me surrounded. I felt my head yank back. Someone in their group had pulled my hair.

  “She probably stinks too. Look at those run’t over shoes and that nappy hair,” Cora said, causing more kids to gather around and look at me like I was a circus spectacle.

  My cheeks were burning and my stomach did flips. I had my fists balled just in case any of them tried to touch me again, but I was really scared.

  Before long, kids from all three third-grade classes had me surrounded. I didn’t know whether to run, scream, or just stand there and take their jeers and taunts. I felt so small I wanted to ball up like a slug after salt was poured on it. I was frozen with fear, but I was also low-key angry inside. My heart was pounding painfully against my sternum and I didn’t even realize I was spinning around and around like an animal about to be caught for slaughter. I looked from one ugly, scowling face to another. These kids were evil.

  “Bum.”

  “Dirt bomb.”

  “Welfare rat.”

  “Crack baby.”

  “Food stamp queen,” were all the nasty things they were yelling at me.

  “Let’s put her in the dirt where she belongs,” someone in the crowd yelled. I jumped and put my hands up in a fighting stance. The kids started moving in closer. I could feel sweat soaking the back of my shirt. In all of that, not one teacher had come to my rescue.

  “Just leave me alone!” I shouted. The next thing I heard was someone scream out.

  “Ouch!”

  I turned just in time to see Cora fall to the ground holding her face. Her head was bleeding and she was screaming and rolling side to side like she was in a lot of pain. I had no idea what had happened, but the crowd started to disperse like roaches when the lights came on.

  “All of y’all get away from the new girl,” a voice boomed. Everyone’s eyes grew wide when they saw Aisha standing there with her hands on her ample hips like somebody’s Big Mama.

  Even in third grade, Aisha was a big girl. She was round with big breasts like an adult. There was no way she looked like a third grader, but her size had saved me that day. None of those kids wanted any problems with Aisha.

  “I hate bullies!” Aisha barked. “This one here don’t got nothing better to do than bother a little skinny new girl. Now look at her,” Aisha said, kicking her foot so that a puff of dirt and a tiny rainstorm of pebbles hit Cora.

  “Nobody mess with her from now on. She is my friend, and if I hear about anybody saying anything about her or her clothes, they will have a problem with me. Understand?” Aisha barked, going around in a circle and pointing in random faces. I don’t think I had ever seen kids with so much fear dancing in their eyes from another kid before that day.

  I stood there in wide-eyed shock.

  “Th . . . thank . . . you,” I stammered as Aisha put her arm around my shoulders and walked me past the crowd of shocked kids.

  “Hold up.” Aisha stopped and let go of me. She walked over to one of the mean girls and punched her in the arm.

  “Ow!” the girl screamed, holding her arm.

  “Now, see? How you like somebody messing with you just because you’re new?” Aisha growled. “And you better not tell on me.

  “Anybody else?” Aisha asked, and put her hands up like a boxer. The group of bullies split up so fast their departure resembled the Red Sea parting. “Your name is Karlie, right?” Aisha asked when she returned to my side.

  “Ye . . . yes,” I stuttered. I was still in shock at how Aisha had commanded the whole crowd.

  “Well, you’re down with me now, so ain’t nobody going to mess with you again,” Aisha told me. I just kind of stared at her. I was in awe and didn’t understand why she had decided to help me.

  Even then, in third grade, there was something more grown up about Aisha. She spoke like an adult and was more powerful than some grown people I knew. I had an instant respect for Aisha, and I was damn glad to be called her best friend after that.

  I snapped out of my reverie and realized I had probably been daydreaming for a few minutes too long. I parked Darwin’s car on the corner and watched Aisha’s house for a few minutes more before I felt comfortable pulling up in front. Leaving the safety of my grandmother’s house and traveling to Aisha’s was a risky move, but so necessary. I was going to have to get my resources, together and this was the first one on my list. If Aisha was anything, she was very resourceful.

  Aisha was a real around-the-way type of chick that knew more about the streets than most niggas in the hood. I came straight to her because if there was going to be anyone who could help me find out where Jay King hung out, who worked for him in the streets, who all his bitches were, it was going to be
her. Aisha always had her ear to the streets and her finger on a trigger ready to buck if she needed to buck. I had always loved that about her too.

  When I was finally comfortable with the surroundings, I pulled Darwin’s Honda in front of Aisha’s house and got out. I looked around, head whipping frantically, making sure there was no one outside watching. I wasn’t too worried because like I said, Aisha had moved from the hood where niggas hung out all times of the night. Where she lived now she had real neighbors, the kind of people that went to work and went to bed at a decent hour. Four o’clock in the morning that neighborhood was so quiet you could probably hear a rat pissing on cotton.

  I rushed up to Aisha’s door and laid on the doorbell. I had no choice. I knew I would have to make my approach urgent or Aisha might ignore it.

  I already knew what to expect once I started ringing that bell like I ain’t have no sense. My girl Aisha was no joke. I saw when her upstairs light came on. I got excited. But I also got a little nervous when I imagined her face drawn tight into an angry mean mug and the cuss words she was mumbling under her breath. My shoulders still slumped with relief when that light came on.

  “Thank God she’s home and not out with some nigga or up in the club,” I murmured. I looked around again, paranoid. But there still wasn’t a soul stirring on that block.

  “Come on, Isha . . . open the door,” I mumbled, saying her nickname.

  “Who the fuck is it?” Aisha barked from the other side of the door.

  “Isha, it’s me . . . Karlie,” I said, trying to be loud enough for her to hear but not loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. Good neighborhood or not, you never knew who knew who out there.

  “Who?” she shouted, but this time she yanked the door open. “Who the hell is it?” Aisha wore a scowl that would have scared ten men away. She was also holding a baseball bat. I didn’t laugh at that moment, but it was damn funny how tough this girl was.