by Kiki Swinson
“Whatcha thinking about, baby?” Dawn asked me from where she was sitting on the sofa.
“I think I might need to go and talk to the Customs agents and tell them what really happened,” I replied, watching her to see if her facial expression would change.
“Are you saying this because you’re afraid that after they find out that you were involved they may try to give you a lot of time?” she wanted to know.
I hunched my shoulders. “I think I will go to them and tell them that I didn’t know that people were inside of the containers and that I was only transporting the containers because I was told to do it.”
“Do you think they will believe you?”
“If I sound convincing enough, they probably will. I mean, I see it on TV all the time when cops offer people deals if they help them with their investigation. And sometimes those people don’t even go to jail.”
“If you decide to do that, don’t you think it would be better if you get an attorney to go with you?”
“I don’t need a lawyer to go with me to talk to the cops. That would be a waste of money. If that’s the case, then why talk to the cops in the first place? I think the only way I would need a lawyer is if the cops don’t wanna cut me a deal.”
“Look, you can do whatever you wanna do. But I think it would be better if you walked in there with proper counsel so they won’t try to railroad you. Believe it or not, those cops don’t give a fuck about you, for real. They just wanna get this case solved and have someone to take the fall. That’s it. And after they lock up whoever they wanna lock up, they’re gonna get their medals and go home and eat dinner with their families and call it a day.”
“Why you gotta be so negative? I knew I shouldn’t have told you. I knew you were going to shoot my idea down.”
“Reese, I’m not being negative and I’m not trying to shoot your idea down, baby. I just don’t want you to take the bulk of the heat from your so-called buddies. They’re the ones that don’t give a fuck about you,” she spat as she stood to her feet and started walking toward me.
“Just let me handle this, all right!” I told her as she stood before me.
She took a deep breath and then she exhaled. “All right. But don’t come crying to me when it doesn’t go right.” She turned around and left me standing in the kitchen.
I stood there and watched her as she walked away from me. She could be a fucking smart-ass when she wanted to be. If she’d give her ears the same chance as she gave her mouth, she’d probably learn something. I mean, I didn’t do that second job with Edward and the other guys just to walk away with $5,000 and then give it away to a lawyer. Is she insane? That’s hustling backwards. And I don’t hustle backwards. I’d rather gamble it up in a poker game before I do that. Now that I think about it, I just may do that. I just need to figure out how to get the money back from Dawn.
32
DAWN
I wished I had a girlfriend I could call and talk to about the shit I was going through with Reese. I remember when Alexia used to be my best friend, but unfortunately that relationship has changed. She’s not the common denominator in the rift between Reese and me, but she definitely adds to it.
Right now, I’m sitting in the house by my lonesome wondering where Reese has gone. He never lets me know anything, which is something I should’ve nipped in the bud a long time ago. But it’s all good. Things will change, whether he and I like it or not. My only concern is that I’m prepared when it happens. I don’t do well when things come at me unexpectedly. But if they do, Lord, please take the wheel.
* * *
I couldn’t believe how it got dark so fast. It seemed like I just left the doctor’s office with my mother. And now it was after eight o’clock at night. I hadn’t heard from Reese in several hours, so I didn’t know where he was and if he was okay. I grabbed my cell phone from the coffee table in the living room and dialed his number. It rang one time and then it went to voicemail. I disconnected the call and dialed his number again. Unfortunately, it went to voicemail for the second time. “Reese, there you go with that not-answering-your-phone shit again,” I hissed, gritting my teeth. There was no question in my mind that he turned his phone off so I wouldn’t be able to contact him. And if that was the case, then that would prevent Ed or the other guys from getting in contact with him too. Whatever reason he had was stupid, and I was livid at this point.
I gave up on calling Reese anymore. I figured if he wanted to talk to me, then he’d pick up the phone and call me. As soon as I placed my phone down on the coffee table it started ringing. I snatched it back up because I knew it was Reese and I was going to give him a piece of my mind. But when I looked at the caller ID and saw it was my supervisor, Mrs. Powell, my heart rate shot up that instant. I was a bit hesitant to answer her call, but I did after the phone rang four times. “Hello,” I finally said.
“Is this Dawn?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Powell, it’s me. Is everything all right?” I replied. The butterflies in my stomach were fluttering around like crazy.
“Yes, sweetie, everything is all right. I just wanted to call you to see if you’re feeling any better from earlier.”
“Yes, I feel a lot better now. Thanks for calling to check on me.”
“No problem. So, I can look forward to seeing you tomorrow?”
“Yes, I will be there.”
“Great. But before I go, there’s been a lot going on since Customs agents found those immigrants in those containers. News reporters were parked in front of the terminal all day. And I know your husband works nights, so has he said anything to you about the investigation?”
“We talked about it a few times after seeing it on TV, but other than that, no,” I lied. I knew Mrs. Powell was fishing for information. But she ought to know that I was the wrong person to ask. I would never sell my husband out like that. Was this bitch crazy?
“Well, according to my sources, a couple of the container checkers and the terminal manager are saying that the guys that work with your husband may be in on the scandal.”
“If Reese’s longshoremen buddies did have something to do with it, this is my first time hearing it.”
“Well, whoever was involved will be charged with the murder of all the people who died in those containers.”
“Are you talking about the people that put those people in those containers, or are you talking about the longshoremen that pulled the steel containers off the ship?” I asked her. I needed clarity so I could give Reese the information he needed when he came home.
“Both.”
“Both?” I replied sarcastically. “Why would the agents charge the longshoremen when they didn’t make the people get inside of the doggone container? I think that’s wrong on so many different levels.”
“Well, from my understanding, the longshoremen that are involved will get charged because they knew the people were in the container and didn’t report it.”
“But how can the agents say that the longshoremen knew the people were inside?”
“Because on the manifest, those containers were supposed to be stacked on one part of pier, but the longshoremen carried them to another part of the terminal with hopes that they could hide them.”
“I see what you’re saying, but I don’t agree with it. I think it’s a bunch of BS if you ask me,” I commented. And was frankly ready to get off the phone. The thought of Reese going to jail didn’t sit well with me.
“Well, hopefully none of our crew members are involved; that way they won’t be arrested or lose their jobs.”
“Yeah, I feel you,” I told her. She and I said a few more words to each other and then we hung up. I placed my cell phone back down on the coffee table, got up from the chair, and slipped on a pair of my Nike running shoes so I could get in my car and drive around to see if I could find Reese. I was not going to sit in this house any longer without knowing where he was. Besides that, I needed to talk to him. He needed to know about the co
nversation I just had with Mrs. Powell, since he thinks he knows what’s really going on. Sounds like he may actually need a lawyer, being as how murder charges are going to be handed out like government cheese.
I didn’t waste any time leaving the house after I grabbed my handbag and car keys. Within a minute and a half, I was in the garage and in my car with the garage door opening up. As I backed out, I noticed a car parked on the opposite side of the street again. And when I blinked my eyes, I realized that it was the same fucking car that was there before. My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. “Who the fuck is that?” I whispered as if I someone could hear me.
I stepped on my brakes halfway down the driveway and sat there to see what the driver of that car was going to do. But they didn’t do anything. They just sat there. This scared me in a very alarming way. “Why the fuck are you just sitting there? Who are you fucking watching?” I continued to whisper as my heart rate sped up.
After sitting there for more than two minutes, I took my foot off the brake and started backing my car out of the driveway a little more. I watched the silhouette of this person like a hawk. But there was still no movement on their part. This really freaked me out because when I was looking at them from my bedroom window they drove away the moment they saw me watching them. But now it seemed like they wanted to play a cat and mouse game. “Fuck it!” I said and pressed my feet against the accelerator. My car sped backwards out of the driveway. I turned the steering wheel to the left, which brought me a few feet away from the other car. But just as I put the gear in drive, the car pulled away from the curb and sped by me. I turned my head to get a look and noticed that it was a dark gray, S500-Series Mercedes-Benz. The plates on the vehicle were from New York. It was going too fast for me to get a look inside. “Motherfucker!” I yelled. I quickly turned my car around. I was determined to find out who this person was. And why they were parked in the same place as they were the last time. More importantly, why did he ride off?
I turned my car completely around and sped off after the car, and made a right at the next corner. But the car was nowhere in sight. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I roared. I was pissed and scared at the same time, knowing that I lost out on finding out who was in that Mercedes-Benz. And why were they parked outside? What were they doing? And who were they watching? I needed some answers and I needed them now.
Trying to come to grips with what had just transpired made it hard for me to navigate my car from point A to point B, so I pulled my car over to the side of the road and tried to call Reese. “Please answer my call, Reese. I need you right now,” I mumbled after dialing his number. But before I could blink an eye, his voicemail picked up on the first ring once again. This made me angry. So angry that I sat in my car and started crying. I didn’t deserve the way Reese was treating me. I’ve always had his back in every situation. I’ve always sided with him when my father started to attack him. I protected him like I was the husband and he was the wife. And look at this situation: Why should I have to chase down a car in my neighborhood because I think we’re being stalked? This is something Reese should be handling. Not me. So why the disconnect? I swear, I’m at my wit’s end with this guy.
After I sat there in my car and cried myself to death, I called Reese’s grandmother. Thankfully, she answered the phone. “Hi, Mrs. Mary, how are you?” I asked her.
“I’m doing well, baby. How are you?”
“I’m okay. But I’m also looking for your grandson. Have you talked to him today?”
“No, I haven’t. I called him twice today because he was supposed to stop by and see me. Is everything all right?”
“Yes, everything is fine, Grandma Mary. I called him a couple of times and his cell phone keeps going to voicemail. That’s why I called you to see if you’ve heard from him.”
“No, baby, I haven’t. But if he calls me I’ll tell him to call you.”
“Thank you so much.”
“You are most certainly welcome,” she said, and then she paused. I thought she had disconnected our call, but then again, it didn’t sound like it.
“Grandma Mary, are you still there?”
“Yes, baby, I’m still here.”
“Oh, I thought you hung up.”
“Oh no, baby, I’m still here. So, how are your parents?”
“They’re great. I will tell them that you asked about them,” I answered. I was ready to end the call with her, especially since she had no knowledge of where Reese was. I really didn’t have any more use for her.
“Don’t you have a sister?” she continued.
“Yes, I do.”
“Well, how is she doing?”
“She’s doing well, Mrs. Mary. Hey, listen, can I call you back? My mom is trying to call me on the other line,” I lied, hoping she’d believe me.
“Oh yes, honey. You go ahead. And tell your mother I said hi.”
“I will.”
“Okay. Well, take care.”
“Thanks,” I said and finally disconnected the call.
Since Reese hadn’t reached out to his grandmother, I knew that he was up to no good. Ever since I’ve known him, he’s always avoided her when he was about to do something that she’d disapprove of. It was like when he talked to her, she’d be able to tell that he was about to do something stupid. It was almost like she could read his mind or could tell by his body movement when something was off with him. She’s known about his gambling problems for as long as I’ve known. So if she ever found out that he was involved with that human trafficking investigation, it would break her heart. I only hoped that she never found out.
33
REESE
Dawn didn’t know that I took the $5,000 I gave her to hold for me, plus another $3,000 she had stashed in her sock drawer, and now I was on my way to another gambling spot so I could double the money.
I decided to head on over to a spot I used to go to a few years back, run by this OG named Pork Chop. Pork Chop was an old man, but everyone respected him. His gambling spot was located off Brambleton Avenue. This was no ordinary gambling spot. And he didn’t allow young guys to come in his domain. You had to be at least thirty years old and you gotta come in his place with at least $1,000 to sit at a table. I won money in his establishment a few times. As a matter of fact, I won more money than I lost there. So I figured tonight would probably be a good night to win some more money.
Pork Chop’s spot was situated in the middle of the block. Players that wanted to join his game had to park their cars off the street, and when they got to the house they had to enter from the back. I couldn’t believe that this operation had been going on for the past seven years, and not one police raid. There was talk that he paid a couple of local cops to look the other way.
Pork Chop had his son Jamil working as his security. And obviously that was working for him, because no one had ever tried to rob their spot. “Long time, no see,” Jamil said as he let me in the house through the back door.
“Yeah, brother, where you been?” Pork Chop asked.
“Workin’ a whole lotta hours. Trying to get wifey pregnant,” I replied.
“So what are you trying to get into tonight?” Pork Chop wanted to know.
“I got a few grand with me that I am trying to spend.”
Some random guy said, “Well, come on over here and sit down at this table.” I had never seen this guy before. I took him for a newcomer, until Pork Chop warned me about him.
“Reese, you gotta watch this guy. He’s been known to walk away from these tables with a lot of honest men’s paychecks.”
“Well, he ain’t walking away with mine,” I announced as I took a seat at the table. After I sat down, I sized this fellow up. “What’s your name?” I asked the five-foot-five, out-of-shape character. He looked like George Jefferson from The Jeffersons TV show. He had the height, the receding hairline, and complexion.
“My name is Butch. What’s yours?”
“People call me Reese. I used
to come here all the time.”
“Yeah, he sure did. But he put me down and started hanging with his longshoremen buddies at the other gambling spot,” Pork Chop interjected.
“Come on, Chop, you know it wasn’t even like that. Wifey started giving me a lot of grief because I was spending up the house money.”
“How is she doing, anyway?” Pork Chop asked.
“You need to be asking me how I’m doing,” I said, while I pulled five hundred-dollar bills from my pocket and placed them on the table in front of me.
Jamil laughed. “It ain’t that bad, is it, brother?”
“If it ain’t, it sure feels like it.”
“You were down at NIT, right?” Pork Chop asked me.
I let out a long sigh. “Yeah, I’m down there,” I replied. “Put me down for a hundred,” I told the dealer, and then I waited for him to deal me my cards.
“What’s this I hear about the port police finding dead Asian people in those containers down at the pier?”
“Yeah, they found some people down in there. Some dead, some alive. So now they’re trying to find out how those people got inside the container and who was behind it,” I explained while I sifted through the cards I was just dealt.
Pork Chop pressed the issue. “Do you know who’s behind it?”
I wanted to say, yeah, nigga, I know who’s behind it, but I ain’t gonna tell you. “All in,” I said, talking to everyone at the poker table. And then I looked at Pork Chop and said, “Nah, I don’t know who’s behind it. The guys at NIT are pretty tight-lipped about everything that happens at the pier.”
“Do you think that the port police is going to really hand out murder charges to everyone that was involved?” Pork Chop wanted to know.
“Who knows what those people are going to do,” I replied nonchalantly. And then I looked at everyone at the table and said, “Bump,” letting them know that I was raising my stakes.