Baltimore Chronicles

by Treasure Hernandez

  “What the fuck is so important that I had to get outta my warm bed so early in the morning?” Tone asked, clearly upset.

  Detective Abraham kept his smile up. “The early bird always gets the worm.”

  “Ain’t no birds up this early.” Tone headed inside and sat at the kitchen table.

  “You wanna make some money or not?” Detective Abraham asked as he poured himself a drink.

  “What you got up your sleeve now?” Tone asked, knowing his pops was always up to something.

  “This what I got up my sleeve.” Detective Abraham slid a folder toward his son.

  Tone opened up the folder and saw a picture of an old Spanish- looking man. “Fuck is this?”

  “His name is Santiago.” Detective Abraham paused before adding, “He lives in L.A. now, but he’s from Mexico. He’s one of the biggest cocaine distributors in the world.”

  “So what you need me to do? Kill him?”

  “Impossible,” Detective Abraham said quickly. “We want to do business with him.”

  “So what’s the big deal?” Tone asked, confused.

  “The big deal is, he don’t fuck with black people,” Detective Abraham said with an angry look on his face. He hated racists, even though he was a racist himself.

  “So where do I come in at in all of this?”

  “Here’s where you come in at.” Detective Abraham slid his son another folder.

  Tone opened the folder and saw a picture of a beautiful woman inside. “Who this?”

  “That’s Santiago’s daughter, Serena.”

  “What does she have to do with anything?” Tone didn’t like whatever his father was up to.

  “She’s in town for two weeks on vacation. She’s staying at the New Yorker Hotel on Thirty-Fourth Street.”

  “And?”

  “And you got two weeks to get in her head and convince her that you love her. Then once you get in good enough, you can get her to convince her father to do business with us.” Detective Abraham smiled like he had everything all figured out.

  “I don’t know about this one, Pops,” Tone said in deep thought.

  “What’s not to know? You wanna make some big money, right?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “But nothing. It’s a perfect plan.”

  “I ain’t gon’ be able to stay out the house for two weeks. Mya would kill me. Plus, we just got engaged last night.”

  “Fuck Mya! With the type of money you gonna be making, you can buy two more Myas.” Detective Abraham chuckled, but he was dead serious.

  But Tone didn’t appreciate his father’s remark about Mya. “Must you talk foolish all the time?”

  “You know I was joking with you,” Detective Abraham said, trying to downplay his comment. “All I’m saying is, you know Mya is a ride-or-die chick, so just explain to her what it is you gonna be doing, and you’ll be fine.”

  “It ain’t that easy, Pops. Mya is super jealous. I can’t just say, ‘Hey, baby, I’ma be fucking another bitch for two weeks,’ and think she gonna be cool with that.”

  “Stop bitching and man up.” Detective Abraham downed his drink in one gulp, only to refill his glass back up to the top. “You wanna make this money or what?”

  “How much paper you think we can make if I can make this chick think I’m in love with her?”

  “Millions!” Detective Abraham’s eyes lit up just thinking about that amount of money. He didn’t know how, but he had to make his son see what he saw, and he wasn’t going to stop until he accomplished that mission.

  “Damn! Two weeks is a short amount of time to make a bitch fall in love,” Tone said out loud as he helped himself to a drink.

  “I thought you was a pimp,” Detective Abraham joked. “My name is John Abraham, and your name is Anthony Abraham. You know what that means?”

  Tone smiled. “What?”

  “That means you can do anything you put your mind to ... trust me.”

  Detective Abraham heard somebody knocking at his front door. “Who is it?” he yelled, walking over to the door. He smiled when he saw Maine standing on the other side of the door. “Come on in.”

  “Y’all in here having a secret meeting without me?” Maine jokingly.

  “Nah. Just going over a few things with this knucklehead over there.” Detective Abraham motioned his head toward his son. “Speaking of knuckleheads ... what was all that about last night?”

  “That clown, Sam, owed us some bread, so we had to beat it outta him.”

  Maine loved putting in work and would do it for free, so getting paid for it was just a bonus.

  “Nigga said some clown named Gruff robbed him, and some bitch named Maxine helped him,” Tone told him.

  “Who Gruff? From Brooklyn?” Detective Abraham asked, his voice rising a bit.

  “Yeah, I think so,” Tone answered. “Why? You know him?”

  “I can’t stand that muthafucka,” Detective Abraham fumed. “Before I became a detective, I had many run-ins with that clown. Even whipped his ass once, me and my partner in an alley.” He shook his head. “He ain’t nothing but a trigger-happy nigga, in it for a street rep. He don’t even care about the money.”

  “So what’s up with him now?” Maine asked.

  “Last I heard, he was on the run for some attempted murder charge,” Detective Abraham said.

  “What about the Maxine bitch?” Tone asked.

  Detective Abraham shrugged his shoulders. “Never heard of her. She must be a new jack.”

  “Well, we ain’t gotta worry about shit ’cause I’m gonna hunt that Gruff nigga down personally.” Maine smirked.

  “Let me just warn you,” Detective Abraham said seriously as he placed his gaze on Maine, “that nigga Gruff gets busy.”

  “Good. ’Cause I get busy too,” Maine said, a smirk still on his face.

  “Fuck that clown Gruff,” Detective Abraham said, waving him off. “I’ma need you focused ’cause you gonna be running shit for a while.”

  “Word?” Maine asked excitedly. “Why? What’s up?”

  “I put ya man Tone here on a mission that’s going to last for a few weeks, so until then, you the man. Now both of y’all get the fuck outta here and make me proud,” he said, dismissing the two.

  Tone stepped out of his father’s house not knowing how to feel. He wanted to make the money, but on the other hand, he didn’t want Mya to be mad at him, or this job to ruin his healthy relationship. He knew Mya wasn’t going to go for that shit, no matter how much money was involved.

  “What’s good? You a’ight?” Maine asked, sensing something was wrong.

  “I’m good,” Tone lied.

  “What’s good? You wanna run downtown with me? I’m supposed to be looking at this new car.”

  “Nah. I gotta head downtown to the New Yorker Hotel.” Tone slid in his Benz and disappeared from his father’s driveway.

  Chapter 2

  Tone pulled up in front of the New Yorker Hotel and let his engine die. “Fuck!” he said out loud as he grabbed the folder and took out the woman’s picture to examine it. He tossed the picture back in the folder and leaned his head back against the headrest and waited patiently for his prey to either come in or exit the hotel.

  Five hours later he saw the woman exit the hotel. “Damn!” He thought she was much prettier in person. The woman resembled the singer Keri Hilson, except for her hair that came down to the middle of her back. Her tall black boots made her calves and legs look toned and sexy. Just from looking at her, Tone could tell that she was stuck-up and used to the finer things in life.

  He quickly made the engine of his Benz come to life with one turn of his key when his mark hopped in a yellow cab. He pulled out of his parking spot and followed the cab. After a short drive, the cab stopped at Forty-Second Street. Tone continued to follow the woman and watched her walk into Applebee’s. He quickly pulled off and found a parking garage around the corner, where he parked his car, and headed over to Applebee’s. />
  He walked inside the restaurant and saw his mark sitting over in a booth by the window looking through the menu.

  “Just one?” the waitress politely asked him.

  “Yeah.” Tone followed the waitress over to a booth on the other side of the restaurant. “Excuse me, but is it possible for me to sit over there with that woman?” he asked.

  “Well, sir, that’s up to her,” the waitress said, a confused look on her face.

  “A’ight.” Tone walked over and slid in the opposite side of the booth his mark was sitting at.

  Serena sat in the booth over in the corner looking over her menu. She was starving and ready to eat. So far she’d been enjoying her vacation in New York. Her father always made sure she had the best of everything, and this time was no different. Once she decided what she wanted to eat, she looked up for the waitress. That’s when she saw a handsome man heading over in her direction. He favored the singer Trey Songz but was a little rough around the edges. Serena watched as the man slid in her booth and sat opposite her.

  “Can I help you?” she asked in a snotty tone.

  “Oh, what’s up?” Tone asked as he picked up the menu and began looking inside.

  “Umm, can I help you?” Serena said, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, this is my table.”

  “I’m just tryin’a get something to eat and didn’t wanna eat by myself.” Tone paused. “And I saw a beautiful lady over here eating alone, so I thought, why not eat together?” He shrugged his shoulders.

  Serena rolled her eyes. “How you know I wasn’t waiting for someone?”

  “Are you waiting for somebody?”

  “That ain’t the point,” she said with a smile.

  Tone returned her smile. “Nah, but for real, I had to come over here and talk to you. I’ve yet to see a woman as beautiful as you in my life. You must be from out of town, ’cause ain’t no chicks out here that look like you.”

  “Yeah, I am from out of town, but beauty is only skin deep,” Serena said in her West Coast accent.

  The waitress walked up to the table, interrupting the conversation. “Are y’all ready to order?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Tone said politely. “Can I have a steak, some French fries, and some rice, please?” he said as he handed the waitress back the menu.

  The waitress looked at Serena. “And you, ma’am?”

  “Yes, can I have some chicken fingers and some fries, please?”

  “And to drink?”

  Before Serena could say a word, Tone quickly replied, “Two Long Island ice teas please.”

  “Coming right up.” The waitress smiled as she turned and disappeared through the double doors.

  The two ate and talked for about an hour. As they sipped on their third Long Island ice tea, Tone asked, “So how long you in town for?” though he already knew the answer.

  “Two weeks.”

  “Damn! So I don’t got much time then?”

  “Much time for what?” she asked suspiciously.

  “To try and convince you to stay,” Tone said with a smile.

  Serena chuckled. “I like New York, but that doesn’t mean I wanna live here.”

  “I can dig it.” Tone smiled. “So what you doing later on?”

  “Nothing. Probably just gonna sit in my room and watch movies all night.”

  “Fuck that!” Tone said, canceling her movie night. “I’m taking you out tonight. I’m not gonna let you spend your two weeks here just sitting up in a room.”

  Serena liked the way Tone was taking control, and the way he carried himself. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Just be ready around eight o’clock,” Tone said with a smile as him and Serena got up and exited the restaurant.

  “Yo, what you doing?” Tone asked when he saw Serena trying to flag down a cab.

  “Trying to get a cab,” she said innocently.

  “Don’t disrespect me like that.” Tone smiled. “Wait right there.”

  Five minutes later Tone pulled up to the corner in his Benz. Once Serena got in, he quickly pulled off.

  Maine double-parked his Denali in front of the projects. Now that he was in charge while Tone was on that other mission, he planned on letting it be known that he was moving up in the empire and wasn’t taking no shit. He walked up to a building, where about five local guys stood in front. “What’s good? How’s it looking out here?” Maine asked as he gave each man dap.

  “Slow motion,” a skinny cat named Calvin answered.

  “Yo, any of y’all seen Gruff out here lately?” Maine asked.

  “I saw that cat the other day,” Calvin said, searching his memory.

  “Word? You know where I can catch up with him at?”

  “Nah. You know Gruff moves like the wind. It’s hard to catch him in one spot,” Calvin reminded him. “Why? Something up?”

  “Nah, we cool. I just got something I need to give him,” Maine said as he headed in the building.

  After waiting a few minutes for the elevator, Maine decided to take the stairs to the fifth floor. He walked down the hall until he found the door he was looking for. He knocked and waited for a reply. He heard somebody fiddling with the locks. A man with a messed-up Afro opened the door and stepped to the side for Maine to enter.

  “Damn, nigga! Why it always smell like ass when I come up in here?” Maine huffed, his nose wrinkled up.

  “Fuck outta here! I ain’t smell shit until you got here,” Afro capped back.

  “Man, just gimme what you got for me, so I can get up outta here.” Maine covered his mouth and nose with his shirt as he watched Afro head toward the back.

  Afro returned with a book bag. “Take this and get the fuck out! Coming up in here, funking my shit all up with that cheap-ass cologne you got on.” He escorted Maine to the door. Every time him and Maine got together the two would go at it.

  “Fuck outta here!” Maine said, walking out the apartment. “Nigga, you smell like a dead body,” he yelled over his shoulder and disappeared through the staircase door.

  Maine slid back behind the wheel of his Denali when he heard his cell phone ringing. Instantly he recognized the number. “What’s good?”

  “Got a little problem I need you to solve for me,” Detective Abraham told him.

  “E-mail me the nigga résumé.”

  A minute later Maine checked the e-mail on his phone, and an address and profile picture came up of his target. He quickly punched the address in his navigational system and headed toward the destination.

  Detective Abraham sat in an all-black van along with three of his crooked partners. For about two weeks, they had been scoping out Big Mike’s dope house. Detective Abraham was tired of watching him get rich. He took a deep drag from his Newport. “Damn! This nigga spot is really clicking.”

  Maxwell, one of Abraham’s crooked partners, said, “Yeah, he going to have to come up off this spot.”

  “Y’all muthafuckas ready?” Detective Abraham asked as he loaded his MAC-11.

  All three of his partners nodded their heads yes.

  “Let’s do it.”

  Detective Abraham slid out the van and ran up toward the back door. He silently counted to three and watched Maxwell kick the back door open.

  “Police! Nobody move!” Detective Abraham yelled as he stormed inside.

  Big Mike tried to grab the AK-47 that sat next to him, but he quickly put the assault rifle back down when he realized they had the drop on him.

  “Don’t fucking move!” Detective Abraham said, his MAC-11 trained on the drug dealer.

  “Fuck y’all pigs want?” Big Mike asked with an attitude. “Y’all want money, or y’all came to lock me up this time?”

  “Depends.” Detective Abraham smiled. “How much money you got up in here?”

  “About fifty thousand. Why?”

  “Hand that over,” Detective Abraham said quickly.

  “It’s over there in the safe,” Big Mike said.

  Just then somebody knock
ed on Big Mike’s door.

  “That’s just one of my customers,” he said nonchalantly.

  Maxwell looked over and saw the table covered with bundled-up dope. He grabbed a few bundles and walked to the door and served the fiend.

  Detective Abraham smiled as he dialed his son’s number.

  On the fifth ring, Tone finally answered. “What up?”

  “I need you to send me a few workers over here,” Detective Abraham told him. “Got us a new spot.”

  “I got you. Just e-mail me the address,” Tone said as he ended the call.

  Once Detective Abraham hung up the phone, he quickly e-mailed Tone the info he needed.

  “Y’all already got the money. Now what?” Big Mike said.

  “Now you say good night.”

  Detective Abraham smiled as he raised his MAC-11 and pulled the trigger. The rest of the crew watched Big Mike’s body jerk back and forth as the bullets ripped through him.

  “Clean this mess up and call me and let me know when the workers get here.” Detective Abraham walked up out the dope house like nothing never happened. This was just the beginning of his big plan. Plus, who was going to stop him? He was the police.

  “A’ight,” Tone said to his workers, “I need y’all over there as soon as possible. One.”

  As soon as he hung up the phone, Mya was all over him. “Where you going, looking all nice?”

  “Looking all nice?” Tone echoed. “I got on regular clothes.”

  “I thought you was taking me out tonight,” Mya whined. She had been waiting all day for Tone to come home so they could go out, like he had promised.

  “I was, but I gotta do something for my pops tonight.”

  “But you promised me. Can’t you do whatever it is you gotta do for him tomorrow?”

  “Nah, it’s gotta be done tonight. Sorry.” Tone kissed Mya on her forehead. “But, I promise you, I won’t be out too late.” Then he stuck his .40-cal in his waistband and headed out the door.

  Maine pulled up in front of the building his GPS led him to. He quickly pulled out his .380 and screwed on the silencer before exiting his whip. He walked in the building and took the stairs to the third floor. When he reached the apartment he was looking for, he flung his hood over his head as he knocked on the door. Once he saw somebody looking through the peephole, he quickly raised his gun up to it and pulled the trigger once. After Maine heard the body drop, he shot off the doorknob. Then he busted up in the apartment and shot the body that lay on the floor two more times before shutting the door behind him.