by CJ Hudson
Rick’s mind snapped back to the present as Dennis started rapping along with the Tupac track. He reached up under the seat and grabbed two more pistols and handed one to each man. Bear then reached under the passenger’s side seat and took out a small black bag, which contained his lock-picking tools. Rick gave both men a sinister smile as he looked up into the darkening skies.
“A’ight, y’all,” he said with malice in his voice. “Let’s do this.”
The three of them hopped out of the truck to go meet their destiny.
* * *
Cookie stumbled off the elevator and headed down to the cool-down apartment where Red was. All she could think about was getting to her lover before the whole robbery thing could go down. Cookie was no fool. She knew that Red was smashing plenty of women. But as long as he kept them out of her face, she wasn’t going to worry about it. Plus, the money and gifts that he was tricking off on her more than made up for his lack of monogamy in her eyes. The last thing she wanted was for someone to get the drop on Red and take him out. Her heart pounded furiously as she got to the door. She knocked on it twice before Ray-Ray snatched it open and looked at her like she was crazy.
“Oh, my bad, Cookie. I thought you was my silly-ass cousin who just left outta here.”
“Nah, uh, I think I just passed him. What did he look like?”
“Big, black, ashy-looking muthafucka.”
Damn! I gotta let Red know what the fuck is going on. I didn’t know that nigga was Ray-Ray’s cousin! Cookie walked over to Red with a long stride.
“Here’s the beer you asked me to bring. You want me to take it in the kitchen for you?” Before Red could even answer her, Cookie was running into the kitchen with the box of beer under her arm.
“Damn, hello to yo’ ass too, Cookie,” Hank spat. He knew Cookie from having done security at the Rite Aid where she worked.
Five seconds later, she called Red into the kitchen.
“Shit, man, the fuck this bitch want?” he asked no one in particular. “Pause the fucking game.” Red walked into the kitchen with a frown on his face. “What? Don’t you see I’m playing the fucking game?”
“I just thought you should know that I bumped into Ray-Ray’s cousin on the way up here. He was in such a hurry that the nigga knocked this beer outta my damn hand. But check this shit out. While he was helping me pick it up, I overheard his phone conversation. Somebody on the other end of the phone was talking about robbing you and shit.”
Red was quiet for a minute as he thought about Ray-Ray. Although Ray-Ray acted like he didn’t give a fuck about Dennis, Red couldn’t be sure that he would turn his back on him if some serious shit jumped off.
“Did you hear him say when this shit supposed to go down?” Red asked.
“Pretty soon. I heard him say, ‘Get ready.’”
Red had to move fast. He didn’t want to have to kill Ray-Ray, so he devised a plan to get rid of him before anything jumped off. He quickly walked back into the living room. Reaching into his pocket, Red took out a knot of money and peeled off $200.
“Yo, Ray, I need you to do me a favor. Take the Benz, run over on Hough, and pick up some smoke from Tone. I forgot I told that nigga I was coming through there earlier.”
Bobby immediately knew something was up. He and Red were just discussing how they had to check Tone about selling them some garbage weed the previous week. He knew that until Red had a chance to talk to Tone, there was no way in the world he would ever buy anything else from him.
Ray-Ray hurriedly jumped on board with Red’s request. He’d been begging Red to let him push the black Mercedes ever since Red bought it a month ago.
As soon as Ray-Ray walked out of the house, Bobby asked Red what was going on. Red quickly explained what Cookie had told them. Then he looked at Cookie. “Strip,” he said.
“Huh?”
“You heard me. Strip.”
“In front of your friends?” she asked with a look of shock on her face.
“Cookie, just do what the fuck I told you to do.”
Reluctantly, Cookie started taking off her clothes. Bobby and Hank stood there mesmerized by the firmness of Cookie’s body. Red went over to the CD player and put on some old-school Jodeci. As the sounds of “Freek’n You” eased through the speakers, Red walked over to Cookie and whispered instructions in her ear. Cookie nodded and sat in a beige recliner that faced the door. She grabbed a pair of sunglasses off the table and slid them on. After hearing three beeps from the alarm system, Red turned the doorknob on the front door and cracked the door slightly.
Then he ushered Bobby and Hank into the coat closet next to the front door. What Dennis hadn’t counted on was that Red had that door wired in case someone tried to break in, and he always kept it locked. Only he and Bobby could open it without setting off the beep, and if someone else did, it was because they were up to no good. Red grabbed three bats that were lying in the corner of the closet. Although he had every intention of killing them, he would do so at another time. His sick mind was already thinking of ways to make the violators suffer.
“These muthafuckas never learn,” Bobby whispered. Red just shook his head.
The three hoodlums eased up the back stairwell with dollar signs dancing their heads. They were praying that no one came out of one of the hallways and inquired about their intentions, but if so, then so be it. Rick had already decided that no one was going to stop him from getting paid, and if anyone tried, he was going to let his pistol make love to them.
“This fucking ski mask is making my damn face itch,” Dennis cried.
“Stop crying like a little bitch, and bring yo’ ass on,” Rick remarked.
Dennis’s dark black pupils stared through the ski mask. He wanted to crack Rick on the back of the head for talking to him that way. He made a mental note to check his ass later, after they got paid. All three men crept down the hallway until they came to the door with the emblem 3C on it.
“You sure this is it?” Rick asked, hearing the soft sounds of Jodeci seeping through the door.
“Hell yeah, I’m sure. I just left the damn place, remember?”
Rick looked at the door and smiled. “This muthafucka slipping,” he said when he noticed that the door was ajar.
It never even crossed Dennis’s mind that it could be a setup. If he had thought for a second, he would’ve realized that he was the last one out of the door and he had closed it.
“Y’all ready?” he asked. “On three,” he continued, not waiting for them to say if they were indeed ready. “One, two, three!”
The three goons burst into the place, only to find Cookie dancing naked with her back to them. They were so captivated by her performance that they all started walking toward her. Anticipating them being there, Cookie spread her legs sexily, bent over, and allowed her palms to touch the floor. She looked between her legs and saw that they were in a trance, marveling at her body.
From her angle, she couldn’t see Red and his thugs come out of the closet, but she did hear the sickening sound of bones being broken. Dennis, Rick, and Bear hit the ground with a loud thud. Bear was the only one of them still conscious, but Hank took care of that with another swing of the Louisville Slugger. The three men then dragged each man to the elevator and took them down to the basement of the building. It took them ten minutes to bound and gag their would-be jackers. Red then looked over at Bobby and smiled. It’s times like this that make me glad I bought this building, Red thought.
Chapter 11
Detectives Dryer and Stone stood over the deceased Joshua “Juice” Wiggins and shook their heads. For the first time since he’d was a rookie cop seeing his first dead body, Dryer was on the verge of throwing up. Murder was vicious enough. But overkill was downright sinister, and this was the definition of overkill.
“What do you think, partner?” Stone asked.
“Oh, there’s nothing to think about. This shit here is definitely personal. Hell, the first two shots were probably eno
ugh to put ol’ Juice out of his misery. The bullets that ripped through him after that were just to prove a point.”
Stone nodded his head, indicating that he and his partner’s thinking were along the same lines.
“Let’s hurry up and examined this scene and get the fuck away from here. I need a fucking drink,” Dryer said, disgusted.
“Who in the hell could have done this to a man, and why?”
“I don’t know about the why part, but I’m pretty sure I know the who,” Dryer said.
“Oh, yeah? Who?”
“I’ll tell you when we leave here. Now let’s get this shit done.”
* * *
Detective Dryer sat at the bar with a somber look on his face. The murder scene he was called to was one of the worst he’d seen in his entire career. Although he couldn’t prove it, he was fairly certain who the murderer was.
“You know this looks like some of our boy Red’s handiwork.”
“Jesus Christ, Eugene, we don’t even have any leads on the killing yet, and already you’re fingering him.”
“I don’t have to have any evidence to know that prick was the one responsible,” Dryer said, slamming his hand down on the bar. “I’m tired of that son of a bitch getting away with murdering innocent people in my damn city!”
“Innocent? That nigger we scraped off the ground in the back of Thurgood Marshall Recreation Center was a convicted drug dealer, rapist, and thief. Some people would say whoever killed his ass did the world a favor.”
Dryer stared at his partner.
“I’m just saying,” Stone said, throwing up his hands.
“All right. What about the time that old woman who had come forward and said that she would testify that she saw Bobby leaving the scene of a murder was found with her brains blown out and her tongue sliced off? Now it was clear to everyone with a brain that Red was warning people to keep their mouths closed.”
Stone knew that Dryer was right. But the last thing he wanted was to arrest Red and Bobby for such a serious crime and then have to let them go on a technicality. “I hear you. But we don’t want some slick-talking-ass lawyer to get them off because we didn’t go by the book.”
Dryer leaned back on the barstool and rubbed his face. Deep in his heart, he knew that his partner had a legitimate point. If they were going to make something stick on Red and Bobby, then they were going to have to get indisputable evidence on them. He knew from experience, though, that getting evidence on the two drug-dealing killers would be easier said than done.
Chapter 12
The next morning, Ivory was treated to a surprise from Darnell. He came over early and took her to breakfast at Bob Evans in Mayfield Heights. On the ride up there, Ivory told him about how she had gotten fired from Rite Aid and about how she had punched the supervisor in the face. She didn’t want to tell him but figured that if she got arrested, she was going to have to call him anyway. She knew she wasn’t going to call Tammy. Tammy was her girl, but she knew that Tammy had saved up a lot of money to attend school, and she didn’t want to put her in the position of tapping into her education money.
“What? You fucking jumped on a supervisor? What the hell is wrong with you? Why you gotta be so damn ghetto all the time?”
“What the hell was I s’posed to do, just let her ass disrespect me?”
“How, Ivory? How did she disrespect you? Did she say something about your height? ’Cause we both know how you hate to be teased because yo’ ass is tall.”
“No, she didn’t,” Ivory said, getting agitated. “She gave me the finger, so I right crossed her ass,” Ivory said, throwing a punch at the air.
“And what if she’d had yo’ ass arrested, then what? What the fuck would yo’ ass have done then?” Ivory didn’t answer because she knew where Darnell was going with his statement. But instead of letting her off the hook, he answered for her. “I would’ve had to bail yo’ ass out, that’s what!”
Ivory couldn’t say a word. She was pissed that he’d thrown it in her face like that, but she couldn’t dispute the fact that his money would’ve been spent on her bail. Darnell pulled into the parking lot and parked. The frown on his face told Ivory that he was upset about the situation.
Oh, well. I’ll just suck the nigga off later. He’ll be a’ight, she thought as she got out of the car. As soon as they got into the restaurant and sat down, Darnell’s phone rang.
“Damn, who in the fuck is this calling me this early?” Irritated, Darnell snatched the phone off of his hip and looked at the screen. His mood changed instantly when he saw who it was.
“Yo, what’s up, dawg?” Darnell listened intently for a few seconds before smiling and nodding. “Where you at right now?” he asked. “Oh, cool then. I’m up here at Bob Evans. Come on up.”
“Who was that?” Ivory asked. The last thing she wanted was for someone to intrude on their quality time. Besides, she wanted to hit him up for some cash and knew there was no way he was going to break her off if someone else was around.
“Just an associate of mine. Look, I gotta run to the bathroom right quick. If a light-skinned dude with a short Afro comes in here looking for me, come get me.”
“Come get you?” she asked, snaking her neck. “I ain’t coming in no damn men’s bathroom to get you.”
Darnell glared at her. He wanted to clown her and remind her of the time she followed him in the bathroom of a bar and gave him head in one of the stalls, but he refrained from it. “Look, ain’t nobody asking you to come in the fucking bathroom. All I need you to do is yell inside of it, a’ight?”
Darnell didn’t even wait for an answer as he headed toward the back. It was at that moment that Ivory discovered she’d left her cell phone in Darnell’s car. She looked across the table and saw that he had left his car keys on the table. Feeling naked without her phone, Ivory picked them up and started to get up.
“Are you ready to order yet?” asked a skinny-looking woman with her hair wrapped up in a bun.
“Not yet. My boyfriend is in the bathroom, and I have to run back out to the car for a minute.”
The woman rolled her eyes and walked away. Dismissing her with a raised middle finger, Ivory hurried to the car to get her phone. She opened the door and looked on the seat, but she didn’t see anything. She then reached her hand up under the seat and felt for her phone. She couldn’t feel anything, so she leaned down and looked. Not only did she see her phone, but her eyes got moon big as she also spotted a large bag filled with weed.
“What the fuck? That nigga told me that he ain’t have no more weed,” she fussed. “Lying muthafucka.” As fast as she could, Ivory closed and locked the car door. A few seconds later, a car pulled up beside her, and a man fitting the description of the one Darnell described to her hopped out.
“What, the muthafucka didn’t want to get his hands dirty?” the man asked, mistakenly thinking that Ivory was there to make the deal for Darnell. “You got the smoke?”
“Uh, Darnell had to go to the bathroom. Let me go get him,” she said as she started to get out of the car.
“What? Go get him? Nah, sweetheart, I ain’t got that kind of time. Tell that nigga I’m gonna get up wit’ him later.” The guy then stroked his goatee and thought for a second. “You know what?” he said as he leaned into Darnell’s ride while taking a folded brown paper bag out of his pocket. “Just put the shit in here.”
Before Ivory could say a word, he threw the bag into her lap and reached into his other pocket. He then took out a roll of money wrapped in a rubber band and tossed it to her. Ivory just sat there frozen.
“Damn, girl, hurry the fuck up! I gotta go!”
Without a second thought, Ivory reached up under the seat and took out the bag of marijuana. She then stuffed it into the paper bag and handed it to him. After the man jumped back into his car and pulled off, Ivory nervously walked back toward Bob Evans, wondering where the hell Darnell was. By the time she got back to her seat, Ivory was a nervous wreck. Although she
smoked weed faithfully, she wasn’t a drug dealer, and the whole episode had her slightly shook. A few seconds later, Darnell came running back toward the table.
“I gotta run to the car. Damn, I hope I ain’t missed this nigga,” he mumbled to himself. “This deal is worth five grand.”
“He’s gone,” Ivory said.
“Gone? What you mean he gone?”
“He left.”
“What?”
Darnell grabbed his phone and immediately started dialing. After the phone went to voicemail, he slammed it shut and jammed it back on his hip. “Fuck,” he said a little louder than he wanted to. He ignored the stares of the other patrons in the restaurant and plopped back down into the seat.
“Don’t worry about it, baby. I took care of it.”
Darnell narrowed his dark pupils on Ivory. “What do you mean, you took care of it?” he asked.
“Well,” she started, “I left my phone in the car, and when I went back to the car to get it, he pulled up beside your car. He said he didn’t have time to wait for you and was about to leave. So instead of letting you lose out on getting that dough, I stepped in and handled that shit for you.”
“How the hell did you know where I had my shit at any muthafucking way? Was you snooping through my damn car?” he whispered in anger. Just as Ivory was getting ready to defend herself, Darnell’s cell phone went off.
“Hello,” he answered with his eyes still trained on Ivory.
“Damn, nigga, where the fuck was you at? You lucky you got a down-ass broad like that on yo’ team to handle business for yo’ ass when you in the damn bathroom takin’ a dump. ’Cause if you didn’t, yo’ ass woulda just missed out on five Gs.”
“Hold on for a second.” Darnell held the phone to his chest so that his customer, Dwight, couldn’t hear him. “Give me my damn money,” he snarled at Ivory.
“You could’ve said thank you to a bitch.” Ivory reached into her pocket and pulled out the wad of money.