Baltimore Chronicles

by Treasure Hernandez

  Tiphani took off the wig she was wearing to help mask her identity and placed it on the counter. She smoothed out her natural hair and smiled at her reflection in the mirror. She was pleased with herself. She had found a man to help her exact revenge on her enemies, and as an extra bonus, she could fuck the hotel desk clerk whenever she wanted.

  Standing there staring at her face in the mirror, Tiphani thought about her children. She hadn’t thought of them in a while. As she was inspecting her features, she thought about her daughter, Talisa, and how much the little girl was starting to resemble her. She wondered where they were and if they were safe. Her post-sex euphoria was now replaced with sadness and guilt.

  Ever since she fled to Florida, she hadn’t thought too much about her children. The longer she was separated from them, the less she thought of them. She was actually enjoying the fact that she didn’t have to worry about them and take care of them. This realization caused Tiphani to feel a huge sense of guilt. She was torn between wanting to be a good mother and wanting to make herself happy. If she was being truthful to herself, she was happier when they weren’t around. When she pictured her future, the kids were never part of her visions. Tiphani was confused about her feelings. She didn’t want to abandon her kids, but she felt happier alone.

  “They would be better off without me,” she said to her reflection. “I need to make sure they’re safe, and then I can disappear. It’s better for them.” Her eyes started to tear up.

  Cecil opened the bathroom door and startled Tiphani. She flinched and grabbed at her heart when the door opened.

  “Who you talkin’ to, baby?” Cecil asked.

  “No one. Myself.” Tiphani splashed water on her face again, trying to hide her annoyance that Cecil had interrupted her time in the bathroom.

  “You ain’t goin’ crazy, are you?” Cecil smiled at his attempted joke.

  Tiphani rolled her eyes as she wiped her face with a washcloth.

  “You look good, ma.” Cecil bit his bottom lip.

  “Ugh. Get outta here with that tired-ass, corny line.” Tiphani sat down to pee, not caring that he was in the room. “And why you bite your bottom lip? That shit is so played and not sexy.” She wasn’t trying to hide her annoyance anymore.

  Cecil got angry at Tiphani’s salty attitude. He knew that she had just sneaked into the hotel room and he was trying to look past it. In fact, he knew she had been doing it for the past three days. He had a mind to slap some sense into this bitch for her disrespect, but he restrained himself. He was well aware that Tiphani had offshore bank accounts with stacks of money, and he wanted a piece of it. He was going to play it right with her and get his share when the time was right. So, for now, he would have to play it cool, even though he was starting to become leery of her.

  “Why you up so early?” he asked.

  “I had to pee.” With a look of What are you, stupid? on her face, she pointed to herself sitting on the toilet.

  Her lie angered Cecil. He knew damn well that she had been out, and he was doing everything in his power to remain calm, but he was unsuccessful.

  “I heard you sneak in a few minutes ago.” He looked straight into her eyes, challenging her to answer.

  For a second, Tiphani was caught off guard, but she quickly recovered. Without missing a beat, she answered. “Oh, I went downstairs to pay our bill. Evan’s being cool and taking care of it so no one asks questions. I just need to make sure I keep paying.”

  “Really? Evan’s being cool.” He mimicked her words.

  “Yes, really.”

  “It takes two hours to pay a hotel bill? You think I’m stupid? Are you fuckin’ him?” Cecil couldn’t hide his anger or his jealousy.

  Tiphani laughed, not because she thought it was funny, but because of nerves. She was stalling to think of an answer.

  “I’m not fucking him. We talk. He wants to go to law school and has lots of questions for me. Evan’s a sweet kid.”

  “For the last three days he’s been asking you about law school?”

  Tiphani was in a groove. There wasn’t a question Cecil could ask that would rattle her. “No. We talk about other stuff. I’m tryin’ to stay on his good side and not cause any suspicion. I’m not tryin’ to get caught.”

  Cecil didn’t have anything to say to that. He looked at Tiphani and tried to read her face, to see if there were any signs of her lying. He never could read her very well, and he’d definitely never really trusted her.

  Cecil had been suspicious of Tiphani ever since they left Florida. He’d come back from his first trip to Baltimore only to find her packing up all her shit. He’d just committed murder for her, and it looked like she was ready to leave him high and dry. Being a sucker for her sex skills, he’d ended up believing the story she told. She said she’d been cleaning the house of both of their fingerprints before they jetted from Florida. The more time they spent together, though, the more he realized he was probably being played for a fool. However, he’d come too far to get rid of her just yet. He deserved to get paid for the work he’d already put in, and the only way he could do that would be to get access to her offshore money. He would just have to keep on doing what he was doing and keep one eye on Tiphani at all times.

  Tiphani felt uneasy as Cecil examined her. To break his thought process, Tiphani used the one weapon she always used with men. The one thing that she knew men were weakest for.

  “Baby, you know you the only one I want to fuck. I can’t get enough of your dick.” This wasn’t totally untruthful. She couldn’t get enough of Cecil’s dick, but she also couldn’t get enough of most men’s dicks. She was insatiable when it came to sex.

  Tiphani got on her knees in front of Cecil and slowly pulled down his sweats. Cecil’s manhood instantly sprang to attention. “Mmmmm.” Tiphani moaned as she wrapped her hand around it.

  Cecil grabbed the sides of Tiphani’s head and she started to work on his erection. As usual, Cecil instantly forgot about his suspicions as he watched Tiphani do her thing.

  Tiphani finished Cecil off with her head game, then climbed into bed and ordered room service. Cecil followed.

  “We need to get our shit in gear. I’m done relaxin’ in this room doin’ nothin’ but orderin’ room service, watching movies, and fuckin’. It’s time to hunt down our prey,” Tiphani said.

  “Just say the word. We eat, then we go.” Cecil stretched out on the bed.

  “No. I’m not going. You’re going. I can’t take no chances of being recognized in the streets.” Tiphani needed some time away from Cecil.

  “Just wear your wig like you been doin’ when you go to the lobby.”

  “Fool, that’s in the middle of the night and only one person is seeing me. Besides, one stupid wig ain’t gonna fool no one in the streets.”

  Cecil sprang up from his prone position to a sitting position and got in Tiphani’s face. “Bitch, don’t you call me a fool. You will regret it.”

  Tiphani sucked her teeth. “Please. I dare you.” She calmly got out of bed to create some distance between them. She was nervous, but she wasn’t going to let Cecil see that.

  “Don’t test me.” Cecil wanted to smack the shit out of her. He was getting sick of Tiphani’s attitude, but the thought of all her money kept him in line once again.

  Tiphani ignored him as she went and opened the curtains, letting in the morning sun. She looked out over the Inner Harbor.

  Cecil went to the bathroom and started the shower. The hot water and steam calmed him down. He figured getting out and driving around would do him good, take his mind off his growing doubts about Tiphani’s loyalty.

  “I’ll start the hunt.” He walked out of the bathroom and started putting on his clothes.

  Tiphani was eating an omelet off the room service tray. “Thanks, baby.” She smiled. “I’ve written down addresses of spots that I could remember where Scar frequented. You could start there.” Tiphani gestured to a piece of paper on the service tray.

  C
ecil picked up the paper along with a strip of bacon. He ate the bacon as he read over the list. “There’s only three addresses on here.”

  “That’s all I could remember.”

  “It should be enough to start with.” Cecil shrugged his shoulders.

  “Before you start, buy some throwaway phones so you can update me on what you find. I don’t want you calling the hotel directly.” She handed him a hundred dollar bill.

  Cecil took the bill and one more piece of bacon and then walked out the door.

  Cecil was cruising the streets of Baltimore, getting accustomed to the geography of the city. He had dropped the cell phone off with Tiphani and gone straight out on the hunt. It felt good to be out on his own. After being released from prison in Florida, he had spent almost all of his time with Tiphani. The only time he was away from her was when he came up to Baltimore by himself to murder the police chief and Dexter Coram.

  He had stopped off at the first address on Tiphani’s list, but the house was vacant. Now he was just driving and taking in the sights of Baltimore. He noticed a lot of hustlers on the streets. He thought about questioning them about their knowledge of Scar, but figured it would be a waste of his time. If they were on the streets, they probably never had any contact with the boss of the operation. Scar wouldn’t waste his time with the street hustlers. Cecil thought his best bet was to find the mid-level hustler, one who had met Scar but didn’t have total loyalty to him. Someone who thought he could run the operation better.

  Cecil pulled up in front of the second house on the list. It was a small, red brick, one-story home. He checked his 9 mm to make sure it was ready for action. He wasn’t going to trust these grimy-ass Baltimore cats for shit.

  Cecil knocked on the door. He heard some rustling on the other side and felt as though someone was looking at him from somewhere. He looked around and saw a set of eyes peeking out from one of the windows. The eyes disappeared, and Cecil heard some muffled voices.

  “Who is it?”

  “I’m looking for someone.”

  “He ain’t here.”

  “I’m also looking for something.”

  “We don’t got it.”

  “You don’t got any weed?”

  “You a cop?”

  “No, sir.”

  The door opened slowly and Cecil was allowed entry. “I like that, a nigga referrin’ to me as ‘sir.’ That got a nice ring to it. Sir.” The young dealer smiled and smoothed the air in front of his face with the palms of his hands like he was looking at his name on a billboard in Times Square.

  Cecil took in his surroundings immediately—two stoned dudes on the couch and two dudes at the door standing on either side of him. He was outmanned for sure, but he figured the two on the couch would be easy to take out. Their reflexes would be slow due to how stoned they were. The two surrounding Cecil might be another story. As a soldier in the Army, Cecil had been highly trained in hand to hand combat, but these two looked like they could scrap. They could be a problem.

  Let’s try and get out of here with no problems, Cecil thought.

  “What you say you need?” said the dealer who opened the door.

  “I’m looking for the chronic. I heard you might be able to oblige a nigga.”

  “You heard right, partna.” The dealer walked deeper into the room. “How much you need?”

  “Let’s start with a quarter, and if I like what I see, well, let’s say I could be lookin’ for some serious weight.”

  “You sure you ain’t a cop? That shit sounds like a cop talkin’. Tryin’ some entrapment bullshit on a nigga.” He looked at Cecil out of the corner of his eye.

  “I can assure you I am no cop. In fact, I’ll buy a bag then sit down and smoke a blunt with y’all.” Cecil thought this would be a good opportunity to put the men’s fears to rest. With their defenses down, he figured he would have an easier time of getting information out of them. He also wanted to get a little buzz on.

  “A’ight, a’ight. I like that. You a smooth cat.” He went into the kitchen. When he came back, he tossed three different bags on the coffee table for Cecil to choose from. “They all weighed out. Take yo’ pick.”

  Cecil inspected the bags and chose the greenest, hairiest-looking buds.

  “Let’s get high.” Cecil opened the bag, sat on the couch, and rolled a blunt. He lit it, filling his lungs with smoke when he inhaled and relaxed into the couch.

  “I didn’t catch your name.” He exhaled and passed the blunt to the young dealer.

  “Best.” He took the blunt and inhaled the thick, pungent smoke.

  “Two-tone.” Cecil told him his nickname. He reached for the blunt. “This some serious shit, my man. We ain’t get shit this good in the joint, for sure.” Cecil inhaled another lungful.

  “Where was you locked up? Jessup? Hagerstown?”

  “Nah. Nowhere ’round here. Down south. Florida. I’m up here on some business.” Cecil passed the blunt.

  “Word. You a businessman?” Best took a hit off the blunt.

  “You could say that. I’m looking for a few dudes. One you may know. Scar Johnson.”

  Best choked on the smoke and coughed it out. “You the second nigga be comin’ around here askin’ about Scar. That nigga Scar got ghost a minute back. Nobody heard nothin’ ’bout him.”

  Cecil cocked his head. “Who’s the other dude lookin’ for Scar?”

  “Some rich-ass fiend. Tell you what. For the right price, I’ll point you in that nigga’s direction.” Best arched his eyebrows.

  Cecil needed to know who his competition was and why he was looking for Scar. He went into his pocket, pulled out cash, and counted out five hundred dollars he had stolen from Tiphani.

  “This do you right?” He handed Best the cash.

  “This’ll do just fine.” Best nodded his head and pointed to the back room. “Go talk to him. He be fiendin’ out in the back.”

  “Anyone back there with him?”

  “Nah. Just that sad-ass nigga by his self.”

  Cecil felt like he got played. He wanted to beat Best’s ass, but he couldn’t fault the dude for tryin’ to make an extra buck. He probably would have done the same thing if he were in Best’s position. So, instead of fighting to get his money back, he let it slide and made his way to the back room.

  Before opening the door, he positioned his gun to easily draw and readied himself for a fight. He swung the door open and sprang into the room with the agility of a cat.

  “What the fuck?” Mathias jumped away from the door and fumbled for his gun, dropping it to the ground.

  Cecil saw the gun and immediately drew his and pointed it at Mathias. “Hold up, nigga,” Cecil warned Mathias and picked up the stray gun.

  Mathias was glistening from the sweat that covered his body. He was so wet he looked like he had just stepped out of the shower. He stood there shaking and jittery, with his hands help up in surrender. “Okay, okay. Take what you want.”

  “You lookin’ for Scar?” Cecil grabbed Mathias’s gun.

  “Yes. Are you Flex?”

  “Why you lookin’ for him?”

  “I need to speak with him. That’s all.” Mathias didn’t know the mystery man pointing the gun, and he wasn’t about to give up any information that wasn’t needed.

  “Why you waiting here? He supposed to be here?” Cecil asked.

  “Best told me that Flex would know where Scar was.”

  “Who’s Flex?”

  “One of Scar’s men. You’re not Flex?”

  “No. When is Flex supposed to be here?”

  “I don’t know. I was just going to wait for him.” Mathias couldn’t hold his arms up anymore. He relaxed them and they dropped to his sides.

  “Put yo’ hands back up! What’s so important you need to speak to him?”

  Mathias followed Cecil’s orders, but this time, instead of raising them all the way up, he rested his hands on the top of his head. “You work for Scar?”

  “If
I worked for him, would I be looking for him?” Cecil looked at Mathias like he was an idiot.

  “True.” Mathias nodded in agreement. “Why are you looking for that snake?” He was thinking that since this guy was looking for Scar as well, perhaps they could work together.

  “It sound like you ain’t much of a fan of that nigga,” Cecil said.

  “I’m not. And by the looks of it, you aren’t either.” The energy in the room was beginning to relax. The conversation between the men was becoming more casual.

  “That’s right. What you after him for?”

  “Can I lower my hands, please?” Mathias raised his eyebrows in a pleading way.

  “If you try any stupid shit, I will put a bullet in yo’ ass.” Cecil kept his gun trained on Mathias.

  Mathias slowly lowered his arms to his sides. “Ah, much more comfortable and civilized.” He smiled and shook his arms to get the blood flowing back to them. “To answer your question, I’m looking for payback from Mr. Scar Johnson. That’s why I am waiting.”

  “Payback for what?” Cecil asked.

  “He ruined my career, and I plan on ruining him.”

  Cecil didn’t say anything. He just stared at Mathias, trying to figure him out. He couldn’t imagine what career this dude was talking about. He didn’t look like a drug dealer, so Scar probably didn’t move in on his turf. If anything, he looked like a sweaty-ass drug fiend.

  The longer Cecil looked at him without saying anything, the more uncomfortable Mathias was getting. The more he looked at Mathias, the more Cecil felt like he knew this dude from somewhere.

  “And you? You haven’t told me why you want to see him.” Mathias awkwardly broke the silence.

  “Hold up. What career you in?” Cecil was trying to place where he recognized this dude from.