Criminal Minded

by Tracy Brown

  We rode in silence and pulled up in front of the 120th Precinct. They brought me straight past booking and into a chilly room in the back. Nobody told me what I was bein’ charged with. I didn’t say nothin’. Not a word. I sat silent while they questioned me about my whereabouts for the past few days. They kept insinuating that they knew something. They kept trying to get me to crack. But I knew they ain’t have nothin’. I waited to see what their real reasons were for draggin’ me in there.

  “Curtis, you are on your way back to prison, my boy,” one of the pigs said. “We found out some things.” He laid out eight-by-ten glossies of me makin’ drug transactions, close-ups of money exchanging hands between me and my connect. My connect was an undercover cop. I knew I was going back to jail.

  “I want to make a phone call.”

  “You ain’t makin’ shit, you fucking no good piece of shit!” The detective got so close to me that I could smell his breath, and he spit all in my face as he yelled. I sat handcuffed in the chair, defenseless. He saw the hate in my eyes and he laughed at me. “You fucking criminal! I got you by the balls, Curtis. Now you tell me what the fuck I want to know!”

  I thought they wanted me to tell on the rest of my crew. “I don’t snitch, muthafucka!”

  He threw another picture down in front of me. To my surprise, it was a picture of Zion.

  “I want this motherfucker. And you’re gonna help me get him!”

  I was confused. I frowned and shook my head. “I don’t know nothin’ about that nigga,” I said. “We ain’t friends.”

  The detective nodded. “I know. That’s why I need your help. We’ve got your ass in a sling, Curtis. You help us, and we’ll help you.”

  I grinned, ever so slightly. Funny how the tables had turned.

  Olivia

  Me and Aunt Inez sat in the lobby of the 120th Precinct, waiting for Lamin to arrive. He had called his lawyer and they were on their way. No one would tell us anything. Aunt Inez raised hell, and I couldn’t blame her. Nobody knew what her son was being charged with. We walked outside, got us some coffee at the donut shop a block away. Adiva was asleep in her stroller and I was so grateful she was a peaceful baby. I worried about my cousin.

  “Do you think they’ll send him back, Olivia?” Aunt Inez and I leaned on the wall outside the precinct, staring at the New York City skyline. I looked at her, wishing I could tell her something positive.

  “I don’t know, Auntie.”

  She shook her head. “I couldn’t handle it if he went back. I lost Papa. Nadia’s dyin’. I can’t handle Curtis goin’ back to jail. No. He can’t go back.” Her eyes welled up with tears.

  I held her hand. “Grandma would tell us to pray.”

  She smiled at me. “Yeah, that don’t sound like a bad idea.”

  So we did. We prayed over our whole family, especially Curtis. And when we finished praying, Lamin was just arriving. I was so happy to see my brother. I knew that when he was around, everything was always gonna be alright.

  We all went inside to await the outcome. The lawyer was escorted inside and we waited. Lamin sat and entertained Adiva. He had her giggling and happy, despite the grim surroundings. Within an hour, Curtis was escorted out from the back. We all stood there, anxious, as Curtis came over.

  The lawyer explained to Lamin that the police had picked Curtis up with so much fanfare hoping that they could encourage him to help them with some leads they had in other cases.

  “They ain’t got nothin’ on me. They had to let me go,” Curtis said.

  My brother looked suspicious, but Aunt Inez looked relieved. “Come on, then. Let’s get out of here before they change their mind,” she said. Then she looked at me and said, “Grandma was right about the power of prayer.”

  I smiled and nodded, but I was quietly observing the reactions of Curtis and Lamin. I know my brother. And I know my cousin. So I could tell that Lamin had immediate questions about the whole situation. Curtis, on the other hand, appeared in control and matter-of-fact. “They had to let me go. Them niggas never had nothin’ to begin with.”

  To me, it seemed odd that the cops would roll up on him in broad daylight, and they never had a thing. Whatever transpired, I was just glad that my cousin was walking out the precinct doors. Curtis went home with Lamin to lay low for a while. I went home to my family and worried more and more. About everything.

  Lamin

  My gut instinct told me that Curtis never gave me the whole story about his arrest. All he told me was that they tried to get him to spill his guts, but he didn’t. I wanted to trust my cousin, but something about his story didn’t sit right. Maybe it was how he seemed unaffected by it. He wasn’t worried. Curtis went right back to his business of hustling—openly—as if nothing had happened. But I had enough shit to worry about. My mother was hospitalized and she was enduring slow and painful suffering. Each day I waited for a call from the hospital telling me that she was gone. It was just a matter of time. Plus, business started suffering from all the bad press. I was frustrated, and the streets was sayin’ that my days of flossin’ was over. They said I might as well quit. Then, when I thought it couldn’t get worse, it did.

  The police started probin’ Zion for the murder of a music insider—Donovan Leon. I was shook. I wondered what would make the police start looking at that case after so long. It had been three years since Donovan’s death, and the police had suspected robbery in the beginning. Something wasn’t right. I wondered what Zion’s next move would be, but I felt like a hypocrite if I called him. Especially after I told him to stay away from my place of business. Olivia was our go-between, though. She let me know that Zion was handling his business, and she let him know that I was concerned for him.

  I took everything as a challenge. I started workin’ harder, networking like crazy, trying to stay on top of the game. I needed the connections to get my name ringing bells again. The negative press was weighing me down. I became obsessed with work. I was consumed with determination. What I needed was a way to get more clients and a way to get my name in the papers without it being attached to a scandal.

  Curtis suggested that I throw a party to celebrate the new year. Nothing extravagant. Just a low-key get-together at a nightclub. As I look back on it all now, it’s ironic that the party was his idea. That party was the turning point for all of us. Anyway, at the time I thought it was a good idea. I had my assistant get the word out and make all the arrangements. I went home early to tell Dream about my plans, and what I found hit me like blow to the head.

  I walked in to find that the house was quiet. My son was playing on the floor in the living room alone. The television was tuned into that purple reptile that I can’t stand, and I could hear Dream talking on the phone in the kitchen. I wanted her to help me promote my party with her industry connections. Anxious to tell her about it, I picked Jordan up, gave him a kiss, and started walking toward the kitchen. On the way, I picked up pieces of an interesting conversation.

  Dream held the phone in the curve of her neck as she loaded dishes into the dishwasher. “I told you this would happen, Vinny. I can’t see you tonight. It’s just that simple.”

  I walked slower, hoping to hear her say something that would make this conversation sound less suspicious.

  “I know.” She was purring. I listened. “I want to feel you, too, baby. Just wait until you get up in this pussy again. You’ll see it was worth waiting for.”

  I had to fight the urge to jump on her and beat her senseless. I held on to my son and listened at the entrance of the kitchen.

  “You can wait, baby. I swear I would come tonight if I could. This nigga ain’t here, and the nanny is leaving in an hour. Just wait for me. I know how to make you feel better.”

  “What the fuck are you doin’?” I asked the question with a look of surprise on my face.

  Dream fumbled the phone and it fell to the floor. She scooped it up and hung up, moving away from me because she sensed my rage. “Lamin.”


  “Who the fuck was that on the phone, Dream?”

  “Lamin, don’t do this in front of the baby.”

  I wanted to smack the shit out of her. “In front of the baby?” I asked. “You’re standing in my house, talking to another nigga about your pussy with my son in the next room! You got nerve to say ‘don’t do this in front of the baby’! Are you crazy?”

  She stood near the refrigerator. “Lamin, I can explain this.” She nervously fiddled with her clothes. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that we need some space.”

  “Big as this house is, you need some more muthafuckin’ space?”

  “Lamin …”

  “Space? Are you serious?” I couldn’t believe the nerve of her. Dream had her own money, yes. But so did I. Our house was large, and so was her bank account. She had my son. I couldn’t believe she wanted more than what she had. “You’re cheatin’ on me, Dream? After all this time, you’re cheatin’ on me, bitch? I gave you my name, my son, and all of this, and you’re cheatin’ on me?”

  “You’re never home, you’re drinkin’ all the time. It’s not enough anymore, Lamin.”

  “What?” I put my son down and walked toward her. I stopped walking, thinking that if I got too close, I might lose my mind. “Dream, stop playin’.”

  “I’m not playin’, Lamin! This shit ain’t a game. You’re falling apart.”

  “Get out,” I said. “Get out of my house, you nasty bitch.”

  Dream’s eyes got teary. “If that’s what you really want, let me pack our things, Lamin.”

  “You’re not takin’ my son nowhere.” She looked at me like she was hurt that I didn’t care if she left.

  “Lamin, I am not leaving him here.”

  “You’re not takin’ my son nowhere. If you wanna go back to being a ho, fuck it. Go. But Jordan stays here. Period.”

  “I’m taking Jordan with me, Lamin.”

  I walked over to her and we stood eye to eye. She flinched as I spoke as if she thought I might lay hands on her. “You’re not takin’ my son.”

  “Lamin, don’t do this. You know he needs to be with me. What are you gonna do with him when you’re running the streets all night? Where’s he going to be when you’re out drinking until the sun comes up?”

  “What? Bitch, I’m not even gonna argue with you. You know why? Because you’re a dirty ho. I never should have married you. I never loved you like I loved Lucky. And I let her go for you. All because you got pregnant with Jordan. He’s all I got out of this shit. So you’re not takin’ him away from me, too. Get the fuck out of my house.”

  She was crying now. “Lamin, you think I didn’t know that? You think I didn’t know who you really loved?” She wiped her tears. Jordan saw her crying, and he started crying as well. I picked my son up and comforted him. The nanny came into the kitchen and took Jordan from me. I was glad she did, so that I could really let loose. I stared at Dream like I didn’t know who she was anymore.

  “Why you gotta do this now, Dream? You know everything is fucked up right now.”

  “Lamin, everything has been fucked up for a long time. The police are sniffing around, the business is suffering, this marriage is empty … I keep waiting for you to fix it. Fix everything. But you just keep drinkin’ and partying all night like that’s going to make things better. And I’m tired of waiting for you to fix it now, Lamin. I’m going to take Jordan, and I’m moving back to Manhattan. You can come and pick him up on the weekends—”

  “Fuck you, Dream! Fuck you!” I was mad as hell. I walked upstairs, grabbed her suitcases, and started throwing her stuff inside. When I had three bags full, I dragged them downstairs and tossed them out on the lawn. I felt like she was kickin’ me when I was already down. I really didn’t care if she left. I hadn’t been in love with her for years. But she was trying to take my son and that fucked me up. “I’ll see you in court. You can do what you want, but you’re not walking out of this house with my son.”

  “Lamin, wait a minute …”

  “Nah, get out. You need space, right? Go, get out!” I pushed her toward the door.

  She had tears in her eyes, but I felt no remorse. Her betrayal was like rubbin’ salt in my wounds. I felt so mad, and I already resented her for being the reason I lost Lucky. Now, I was disgusted with her.

  “Lamin, let’s talk about this!”

  She made me sick. “Nah, Dream. Get out of my house. I want a divorce. I’m taking my son. Now get off my property.”

  She flipped out. Started scratching at me, punching me. I dragged her to the driveway and pushed her toward her car. She fell, got up, and ran after me. I turned around and faced her.

  “Don’t make me put my hands on you, Dream. I asked you nicely. Get off my property before I have you removed. Don’t make me embarrass you.”

  She looked at me like she thought I was crazy. I wanted her gone. She took a deep breath, wiped all her tears, and said, “Let me kiss my son good-bye.”

  I looked at her, and shook my head in dismay. “I’ll bring him out. In the meantime, pack all this shit into your car.” I kicked one of her suitcases on my way back inside. Her clothes spilled out and onto the driveway. I watched from the window as she loaded up her car. I waited until she had picked up all of her shit. Then I brought Jordan outside to see her. She kissed Jordan good-bye and left. I hugged my son and told him that his mommy would be coming to pick him up in a couple of days. He was still a toddler, probably not even old enough to understand that she was leaving, but to me it was devastating. I always swore that I would give my kids a better family than the one I grew up in. Dream wasn’t the woman I wanted, but I had been trying to make it right. I couldn’t believe that she had the nerve to cheat on me.

  That’s when I thought about Lucky again. This must have been exactly how she felt. I had so much remorse, then. I wished I had never hurt Lucky like I did. But Dream was gonna pay. I wasn’t gonna lose this battle. There was no way she was walking out on the marriage and taking Jordan, too. I called my lawyer immediately to put a plan in action. He told me to lay low until the new year and we would file a petition for temporary custody. He said I could divorce Dream on the grounds of adultery. I was ready to do whatever I had to, just as long as I got Jordan in the end.

  When I got off the phone with him, I sat deep in thought. I had lost control over everything. I considered canceling the party, but I decided not to. I needed to get control over something, so I might as well start with my career. I spent the next twenty-four hours planning my party with Olivia’s help. We called some old clients and some industry insiders. It was my chance to put myself back on the map.

  On New Year’s Eve, I spent the whole day finalizing the details. The guest list read like a who’s who of the music and film industry. I was excited. The party was at the W Hotel in Midtown. I drove there that night and I thought about all I had accomplished. Thought back to my days in and out of state on the grind with Zion. I remembered all the money I made, and all the riches I had amassed. Failure was never part of the plan. I wasn’t goin’ out like that. No matter what happened I was determined to come out on top. When I got to the W at around 10:00, I saw Olivia’s car parked out front when I pulled up. I knew she would get there early.

  There was already a line outside, and I entered, bypassing the velvet rope. I saw Olivia as soon as I got inside. “Hello, handsome brother! Look at you in the linen shirt and jeans. Nice.” My sister admired my wardrobe as usual. She looked nice herself in a long white dress.

  “Where’s Curtis?”

  She nodded toward the VIP lounge and we proceeded through the crowd. I saw that a lot of people had already got there. I stopped and talked to Curtis when we got in the VIP room.

  “Nice party, cousin.” Curtis smiled and gave me a hug.

  I sipped my drink. “Thanks for giving me this idea. It looks like it’s gonna be a good one.”

  Olivia went off to dance. I filled Curtis in on the drama with Dream, and we mingled at the bar for ano
ther hour or so. The party was packed now, so I left him there to mingle with the crowd. The party was off the hook. Everyone was dancing and having a good time. At a little after eleven o’clock, I saw the R&B singer Lena Rae. I had some ideas for her next video so I went to chat with her at a corner table.

  I was telling her about my concept, and I had her full attention. Then across the room I saw Curtis talkin’ to somebody. But his body language demonstrated the fact that he was heated. I leaned closer for a better view of who he was talkin’ to. It was Zion!

  Zion

  I walked into the W and I had a little extra swagger in my step. I no longer gave a fuck. I knew somethin’ was bound to happen. I was feelin’ pressure from every side. So fuck it. Whatever happened, happened. I made sure I looked good though. I had on my all black suit with a fedora on my head tilted to perfection. Old Papa would have been proud.

  When I got inside, I headed straight to VIP. When I walked in, I saw Olivia dancin’ with some of her model friends. She looked nice, and she also looked surprised to see me there. I smiled at her, tipped my hat in her direction. She stopped dancing, looking like she was unsure if me being there was a good idea. I didn’t care whether or not it was a good idea. I was holding the trump card now. Then I saw that nigga Curtis. He came right over, and I stood my ground. “You shoulda stayed home tonight, nigga. It might not be your lucky night.”

  “Muthafucka, move out my way. I sure ain’t here to see you.” I stepped to the side and he blocked my path.

  “You better be nice to me,” he said. I looked him dead in the eye and knew exactly what Curtis meant by every word. I smiled at him.

  And then Lamin came over. He saw that a crowd was gatherin’ so he came over and asked Curtis what the problem was.

  “I was just makin’ sure his name is on the list, that’s all.” Curtis laughed and walked away.