Criminal Minded

by Tracy Brown

  I shook my head. “Doug won’t rat me out,” I said confidently.

  Maury cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Zion. I don’t know Mr. Jones personally. But I do know criminals. He doesn’t strike me as the type who’ll be willing to take the fall to protect you. Your friend seems scared, Zion. I think you might have a problem on your hands.”

  I had no idea just how accurate Maury’s instincts would prove to be.

  They held Doug without bail, so I made sure I sent someone up there to put money on his books each week. Maury was costly, so I paid a different lawyer to take Doug’s case, and paid Maury for his assistance. Since I knew the cops had nothing on me, I went about my business as usual, kept living my life. But after exactly nine weeks, word on the street was that Doug had been released on bail. Funny thing was, since he’d gotten out of jail, Doug hadn’t bothered to contact me. He wasn’t staying with his girl anymore, so it seemed like he had pulled a damn good disappearing act. Something was very wrong.

  Next, I started noticing cars parked outside of my home, with suspicious-looking men in them. These cars would pull away whenever I looked in their direction, but I noticed them. Olivia started noticing that she was being followed on her way to work in the morning. It was then that I accepted the fact that Doug was a snitch, and that the time was coming when I would be arrested. Only, I had made a promise to myself that I had no intention of breaking. I was not going back to prison.

  Maury confirmed my suspicions and told me that Doug had really ratted me out. He said that it wouldn’t be long before the police came for me. They finally got around to muscling me on the set of one of the Shootin’ Crooks video shoots. I was sitting with Olivia on the sidelines when two detectives walked up on the scene looking like they were happy to see me. I continued talking to Olivia, even as they rudely interrupted.

  “Mr. Williams. How the hell are ya?” This one was a fat, pink, swollen muthafucka. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, and he looked hot and nasty in the August heat. He obviously noticed the frown on my face as I looked at him like a sloppy pig. He said, “What’s with the fuckin’ grimace, huh?”

  “Yo, watch your mouth,” I warned him. “There’s a lady standing here.”

  He gestured toward Olivia with an apologetic wave and a sarcastic grin. “I beg your pardon, miss. I know you’re in love with this guy, and my heart goes out to you.” I deduced that he’d been watching me for a long time. “My name is Detective Burgher and this is my partner Detective Baldwin. We’re investigating your drug-peddling boyfriend here. And—I must say—you are way too beautiful to be wasting your time with a sonofabitch like this guy. Too bad you don’t date white men.”

  He was obviously trying to provoke me to react in anger. Olivia frowned and said, “You ugly, sweaty, cracker muthafucka! What the hell do you want?”

  “And she’s classy, Zion!” Detective Burgher said sarcastically. “Damn, I’m jealous.”

  His partner spoke for the first time. “Come on, Mr. Williams, let’s go somewhere and talk for a minute. We got a couple of things to tell ya.” Detective Baldwin gestured toward a van parked at the corner. I declined.

  “Nah. Am I under arrest? If not, I don’t have to go with you. Anything you have to say, can be said right here in front of her.” I stood my ground and Olivia sat patiently waiting for the detectives’ next move.

  Detective Baldwin looked at his partner and smirked as if laughing at my testicular fortitude. I waited. Finally, Burgher broke the silence. “Zion, we got you right where we want you, buddy. Why don’t you cooperate with us, and let us help you out.”

  “Why would you ever want to help out a nigger like me?” I could tell he was a racist by his overall demeanor toward me and Olivia. I made the statement hoping he would feed right into it. He didn’t disappoint me.

  “I wouldn’t. I was bullshittin’, ya wise ass!” He lit a Marlboro and blew the cigarette smoke in my direction. “Your cronies are flipping on ya, Zion. You should have known they’d buckle under pressure. They’re giving you up.”

  I didn’t flinch. “So why not arrest me?”

  He took a couple more puffs of his cigarette and then looked at me with squinted eyes. “You haven’t given me the big score that I’m lookin’ for yet, Zion.” His breathing was heavy, like it excited him to go after me like this. “I have to have enough to put your punk ass in prison for life. You degenerate!” He wiped some spit that had flown out of his own mouth and landed on his lip. He was so intense, but I wasn’t the least bit fazed. “I am watching you, and I will get you.”

  “Okay, officers—” Olivia started.

  “Detectives, thank you,” Baldwin corrected her.

  “Whatever!” she said. “Thank you for coming to relay your message. We heard you. Good-bye, now.”

  “You can trust me, Mr. Williams. Your day is coming. See your ass in court.” The two of them walked off toward the same van that I’d seen parked everywhere I went for the past several days. Olivia looked at me, questioningly.

  I knew what I had to do.

  Curtis

  I was back around the way, kickin’ it with my boys. I was staying out of trouble, unlike the last time I was home. I didn’t want to go back to prison. I was back working for Lamin. It hurt my pride a little. It felt like I was takin’ a handout, ’cause I didn’t really have to work for Lamin to pay me. I got money all the time from my cousin. Yes, when Lamin attended awards shows and movie premieres, I was there making sure that he was protected and all that shit. But I was still just head of security. Zion was the one sitting at the helm of the company with Lamin. I felt that if Lamin made me a partner like he made Zion one, it would have been better for everybody. But he never offered me that.

  My moms was in love with this nigga that I thought was too good to be true. So, rather than live in her home and rain on her parade, I got an apartment on South Avenue. I had a shorty—a chick named Michelle that wrote to me while I was locked up. Letters are like fresh air when you’re doing a bid. So, she had been a big factor in my ability to survive the whole ordeal. She was a decent-looking young lady with a nine to five and a good head on her shoulders. She kept me happy and I kept her spending. It was mutually beneficial.

  It was good for me to kick it with my old boys. Most of them were still hangin’ on the block, doing the same shit we used to do as kids. Not much had changed. But when I saw Doug in the corner store, I was so glad to see him. He was my boy from back in the day. The first time I got locked up, Doug sent me packages and put money on my books. I never forgot that kindness, and I was pleased to see my boy. It had been a while since I last saw him. I gave him a firm handshake and asked how he was doin’. He seemed a little standoffish, and I wondered why. But only briefly. He warmed up when I said that I had the munchies and wanted a beef patty desperately. I could tell he was high as well, and we shared a laugh.

  I told Doug where I was staying at, and I let him know he was welcome to come by and smoke with me anytime. He said he would take me up on that offer. Doug got his cigarettes and left the store. I got my beef patty, went home, and waited for Michelle to come back from the nail salon.

  That same night, Doug came by. He sat up in the living room with me, and we talked about how things had changed and the consequences of doing a bid. I told him about my experience, and he talked about his own recent brush with the law. By the time we smoked our second blunt, our discussion had turned to the topic of Zion. Doug was pissed off about the fact that Zion had left him to shoulder the burden of a prison bid. That was never part of the plan. I let Curtis know that I didn’t fuckin’ like Zion. I couldn’t stand the muthafucka. I felt that Zion was out for self. He had infiltrated my family by hooking up with Olivia. He had also maneuvered himself into Lamin’s company, and I didn’t like his style. He seemed shady, and Doug’s revelations only confirmed my suspicions.

  Doug left that night around midnight. We agreed to get together soon and he walked off toward the
projects. I gave Michelle some damn good sex that night, and I slept like a baby afterward.

  It was the last time I ever saw Doug alive.

  Zion

  I picked Olivia up from the set on a Friday in September. I was happy to see her since, as always, she looked like a lollipop. After I gave her a kiss and felt her up a little, I got around to asking about how her day went. She said, “I heard a little something about our boy, Doug.” Then Olivia handed me a jewel.

  Doug had a weakness for some broad around the way. Her name was Keesha, and she had loose lips, always braggin’ to her friends about how much time she spent with Doug. Where they went, what they did, what he bought her were always her topics of conversation. Keesha was sexy, but she was edgy. Her vocabulary consisted of more slang terms and four-letter words than anything else. But she was fly, and most of the niggas from around the way wanted her. A couple had already had her.

  “I heard Keesha talkin’ in the shop today about Doug’s case. She said everybody thinks Doug is on the run because he’s snitching. But in reality, Doug is stayin’ with her at her apartment on Brabant Street. She said Doug feels like niggas wanted him to take the fall but instead he’s takin’ over the streets …”

  “She said this to you?” I asked.

  Olivia shook her head. “Nah. I was in the back under the dryer with a magazine. She didn’t see me when she walked in, asking for a wash and set. That bitch came in and was sittin’ up front with Nia talkin’ ‘bout Doug’s gonna be runnin’ shit. He’s lockin’ down Staten Island, going for self I was just listening and soakin’ it all up.” Olivia told me that after waiting for about half an hour, Keesha and Nia left—never knowing that they had just put the opportunity of a lifetime right in my hands.

  I probed deeper. “What else she say?”

  “She was just braggin’ as usual. Tellin’ Nia about their trip to Cancun for two weeks. It sounded like she was trying to convince everybody that Doug is not a snitch; that he’s not running.”

  “What building that ho live in?”

  “She lives at 150 Brabant Street. Remember we went to that card game at her house that time?”

  I knew right then that I had him. I pulled up in front of her grandparents’ house and told Olivia to go inside and wait there for me. She looked at me like she suspected something, but she gathered her things and climbed out. I was ready to pull off, but she stopped me.

  “Zion, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I know you want him. But don’t do somethin’ you’ll regret later on.”

  I smiled. Olivia was too much sometimes. She knew me a little too well. “Don’t worry your pretty head. I got this.”

  I winked and drove away.

  I called a meeting with my two remaining lieutenants. Cezar and Def were two who I trusted because they proved themselves time and time again. I laid out the consequences of being a Judas in my camp. I was confident that my two remaining cohorts would continue to be loyal, so we discussed retribution. Once everything was finalized, it was on.

  I parked my car by the Big Park and waited in the dark. I sat patiently, puffin’ on a blunt, thinkin’ about Doug. He was supposed to be my man. In the streets you don’t make friends, you make money. But I liked Doug’s style and how he held shit down. One of my most valued soldiers was a snitch and it was time to settle the score. I looked at the clock on the dashboard. It was 8:25, and my adrenaline started rushin’ like crazy.

  I saw Doug walk up. That muthafucka! He was alone, walking with his head down and a hat pulled low over his eyes. He was disguised, but I could tell his walk. My car radio was playing Mobb Deep’s “Shook Ones.” I waited, holdin’ the gun in my hand as I slouched down in the driver’s seat. I had to force myself to wait until the time was right. I had to follow the plan to the end. But I was so tempted to run over and squeeze off every bullet in my clip. Then I got my cue. Def came out of the building. With his hand in his pocket, Def walked toward Doug. Doug’s hat was low, but he recognized Def as he got closer to him. Doug turned and bolted back toward Brabant Street. But, he was met by Cezar, who approached from behind him. Doug had nowhere to run but right into my hands.

  By the time he made it to the parking lot, where I was waiting, I was right up on him with my gun drawn. He was running at top speed, but he screeched to a halt when he saw me. The look in his eyes when he saw me was one of pure surprise.

  “Why you ain’t been calling me, nigga!” I squeezed off four shots in succession, and he ran for cover. My own face was covered with a hat and sunglasses, but I honestly didn’t care who saw me. The nigga tried to set me up. I had one thing on my mind and that was to kill that muthafucka. I knew I hit him at least once, but the sonofabitch was fast. He dropped to the ground and rolled behind a car, all while reaching for his gun. But I was on him. Before he could cock his shit, I had my gun at his temple. “You snitch bitch! You selling me out, Doug? Huh? Why you ain’t get at me, Doug?”

  Doug pissed in his pants. “FUCK YOU!” he yelled. I could see the blood seepin’ through his shirt. I laughed at him and squeezed off, killing him instantly with a shot between the eyes. Cezar and Def scattered. I calmly strolled back across the parking lot, got in my car, and drove home.

  Mission accomplished. That night, I thought back to me and Olivia on the grind, and all the times we met up with Doug over breakfast out of state. Me and Olivia would drive into town and meet up with Doug at a down low spot. He was a soldier, down for the cause from day one. All of us knew we were there for business. But we got along so well it was a pleasure to see him. Doug met us in other cities by whatever mode of transportation necessary to help us get that product. Olivia sensed what was on my mind. She understood me that much. We sat in the living room at my place and reminisced on Doug.

  “Remember the time we all ate breakfast at the IHOP in DC before we drove into B-More?” Olivia sipped from her glass filled with E&J. “Doug was makin’ fun of my stilettos?”

  I laughed. “Word, Doug was like, ‘Where you runnin’ to if shots ring out? This ain’t Charlie’s Angels!’” I laughed at the memory and remembered Doug’s witty sarcasm.

  Olivia laughed as well. Then her face turned solemn. “Too bad he had to go out like that.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  moving on

  Olivia

  I handled my money smartly and bought Lamin’s Brooklyn brownstone. Although I spent a lot of time at Zion’s place, I wanted ownership. I took pride in my first home and redecorated it from top to bottom. Lamin and Dream had the loveliest home in Scotch Plains, and they seemed happy. I threw myself into making each floor of the brownstone come to life. I could have rented it out, but I had ideas about this home. I was so happy to be doing what I loved and what came naturally. I dreamed of making my own millions for the first time in my life. I didn’t need anybody to give it to me. Granted, I was dating Zion, and he had plenty of money. Yes, my brother was the CEO of a major corporation. But I was making my own money. Doing freelance stylist assignments and making a name for myself. I was on the rise and so was my brother.

  I wanted to fill that brownstone with babies for Zion. He was so deep in them streets that not even I could dig him out. He wouldn’t walk away. Wouldn’t let the streets go no matter what. And I feared for him. I loved him and wanted to save him. I wanted to love him enough for all the love he never experienced. But he wouldn’t let me. And I wouldn’t give up. But I did back down a little. He needed to walk away when he was ready. I began to do a lot of thinking and I wanted to heal all my past wounds. I started by going to visit my mother.

  I stopped by one afternoon when my schedule was free. She sat in the kitchen with me, asking about the family. She had lost touch with everybody. She didn’t speak to her parents, her son … her only ties to the family were through me and Uncle Eli. But Mommy didn’t look too good. She looked stressed and overwhelmed. Wally was upstairs sick, and I was happy n
ot to have his grumpy ass around for once. I talked to my mother about Lamin’s wedding and I told her details about my job with Lamin’s company. Before I left, I gave her five hundred dollars and told her to tell me if she needed anything. She looked so sad to see me go, but I promised to come back as soon as I could. I needed to tell Lamin about my concerns. But he would never talk about Mommy. He would not make the first move to reconcile with her and nothing I said would change his mind. But now, seeing her drift away like she was, I decided to try to get him to go and see her.

  I went to work each day and worked my magic. I styled the artists and wore my designer labels with shoes that cost as much as some people’s car notes. I was feeling good and so happy to be with Zion, living the good life. So when I took that home pregnancy test, and it came back positive, I was ecstatic. And I felt that my life was the closest to perfection it would ever get.

  Lucky

  I picked up my pride and went on with my life after Lamin. I started working as a marketing director for SoulSista Magazine. I was piecing together my social life, and living it up with Veronica and Audrey. One night, Veronica invited me to an album release party at her restaurant, the Autumn Lounge, featuring some rap group from Queens. I decided to go. Why not? I wore a brown minidress with my cocoa-colored Chanel pumps. I had my hair pulled up into a chignon and I was feeling sexy as hell. When I arrived, I got a drink, and Veronica insisted on introducing me to the members of the group. They were called Havoc, and I was familiar with some of their music. One of them was a guy named Jalil. He was attractive—tall with a stocky, muscular build. He had a neat fade, a mean scowl, and the juiciest lips in the world. He was brown skinned, with that swagger that only New York City niggas possess. And he was good. I had heard his verse on their number-one record and I was impressed.