Dirty DNA 2: 'Til Death Do Us Part (G Street Chronicles Presents)

by BlaQue

  My stomach started to turn because I was hoping whatever he had found didn’t link this shit to me.

  “We were able to find some DNA under the victim’s nails. There was also a bottle of Ginger Ale that was found open lying next to our victim’s body. I am not sure if we are able to get any information from the soda bottle because that could have belonged to anyone, but the skin under her fingers is a different story. I have already taken the liberty of running the DNA samples through the system.” Clancy said proudly.

  I couldn’t have been more disgusted with the news. I had all but forgotten about the tender folds of skin that I had kept neatly bandaged. Underneath the bandages were deep gashes where the young girl had clawed at my wrists; trying to free my hands from crushing her wind pipe when she hadn’t complied with my demands of a blow job.

  I unknowingly started fidgeting with my wrists. Clancy stared at me pulling at the stupid bandages and I immediately dropped my hands in lap out of his view.

  “I didn’t think we were gonna find anything that would help us take this guy Evans down.” Clancy said very proud of himself. “This could be what I need to get that promotion to the Head of Forensics. Think about it, if we bag this rapper guy, it could put both of our careers in fast forward.”

  “Yeah a promotion would be nice.” I said only half meaning it. I started to shuffle papers on my desk trying to look busy. I was hoping that Clancy would get the picture and leave.

  “Gatsby, I am sure you have a lot to do. I will contact you once I get the DNA information. It shouldn’t take more than a few days before we know something. I put a rush on it because I know catching this guy means a lot to you.” Clancy left my office and I sat there dumbfounded, trying to figure out how the fuck I was going to keep him from finding out that that DNA was mine and not Ronald Evans.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Raw Image Band

  “Shake It Out”

  Dread

  I felt like I was a hostage. I had been hiding out in this hotel in Georgia and wanted nothing more than to go home and be with my daughter. After smashing my phone up, I hadn’t heard from NiQue and I am sure the way things were going, she wasn’t too fond of me right now. It had been two days and some change since I had spoken with her and even though she would pull disappearing acts on me from time to time, I had never done the same to her and I felt low for doing it now.

  I was getting real tired of feeling like I was trapped in this hotel room. The worst part of it was that I had nothing to do with that girl’s death. I didn’t even know who she was; but people were looking at me like I was the prime suspect. It was all over every news channel and I felt like a caged animal.

  Just when I was ready to make a break for it and try to get back to the DMV, Vito and Budda followed by Coogi, Trae and Ox entered into my room. They were carrying take-out bags of food and they were talking about being stuck in Georgia and not being able to make a move until this shit got cleared up. My stomach grumbled. The smell of the take-out wafted over to me reminding me that I hadn’t had anything to eat.

  “Wassup Dunny? Are you aight?” Vito asked sitting the bag of soul food in front of me.

  “I guess man. This whole being stuck in here not knowing what’s going on with my wifey and my seed is driving me crazy. She said they found the nanny in the kitchen dead the morning I flew out here, and I have been trying to make heads or tails of all of it.” I said hoping he would offer me something out of the containers of food, and better yet a resolution to the madness.

  As if he were reading my mind he slid the food over to me.

  “We ordered you something. I didn’t know if you wanted anything, but I damn sure wasn’t going to share my food with you!” he laughed trying to make me feel better about the situation at hand.

  I gobbled down the food and sat there with my boys until it was damn near nightfall. The concert was the very next day and I still didn’t know if I was supposed to be performing or not. This whole thing with the body in DC was fucking up my career moves and I wasn’t feeling it. I had waited damn near my whole life to get invited to the A3C Festival, and now it looked like my whole crew was going to go on without me in fear that I would be arrested as soon as I stepped on the stage to perform.

  It seemed like no matter what I did to try and fly right; shit never went my way since I got down with NiQue. I didn’t want to blame her for all the bad shit that kept happening, but there was no way to overlook the fact that all of this crazy shit started happening as soon as I started fucking with her and YaYa.

  The guys were amped up about going out tonight and I couldn’t get motivated or excited about any of it. They were planning to go out to Magic City for a night of fun and freak action. I thought it was in bad taste to go to yet another strip club being that all this shit came about because we had been in a strip club. I couldn’t blame the guys for wanting to go out though. After debating the situation in my head I decided against going and stayed in the room.

  *****

  The guys from the Cap all got dressed and left out, leaving me to my thoughts. Crack had left his cell with me so I could contact him if I needed anything. I felt like a kid who was being punished and could not leave his room for bad behavior.

  I flopped on the bed and decided I would try and contact NiQue. She had played the mad role long enough and I was tired of acting like a stubborn ass little boy. I was going to be the bigger person in the relationship and call her. If for no other reason than to make sure my baby girl was ok.

  I dialed her number and the call went straight to voicemail. Hearing the automated message telling me she wasn’t available made me feel like I was going crazy. I tried to call her a second and third time with the same result. I finally gave up on calling her and prayed that she and the baby were alright.

  I don’t know what made me do it, but I went through the contacts in Cracks cell phone and located Pinky’s number. I figured since he had set up the performance with her directly, surely he would have her contact information. There had to be an email, the number to her booking agent or a number to reach her in his BlackBerry. Crack was too organized in his business not to have kept something like that for future reference.

  I browsed through the contacts until I found what I had been looking for. Her number was listed in his phone under Pinky Stadium Club. I dialed the number. My heart was thundering in my chest and my palms were sweaty as the phone started to ring. One the third ring she answered. It felt like my mouth instantly went dry.

  “Hello.” she said. She sounded tired and worn out.

  I could tell she had been crying and probably had been pushed to the brink of insanity over the last few days. Gulping hard, I tried to gather the courage to speak. I cleared my throat forcing the words from my lips.

  “Umm, can I speak with Pinky?” I finally managed to say.

  “This is she. Who’s speaking?”

  “This is Dread…I really need to speak with you. I need you to hear me out. The shit they are saying about what happened with your folks ain’t true baby girl. I would never do anything like that to anyone!” I said with urgency. I feared she would hang up or she may have the police standing right there tracing the call. Those pigs could have been listening in on the call and just waiting for me to give my whereabouts. I was paranoid as hell.

  “I was framed. Someone else did that horrible shit to your folks and set me up to take the fall. I don’t know who did it, but I am desperate to find out who is out to slander my name and ruin me. I just need you to believe I ain’t do it.”

  “Believe you!” She screamed through tears. “I don’t believe shit you say. You killed my sister and you are going to pay!” she barked.

  “Please listen to me.” I begged.

  “After we left the stage and you and I…well you know…I left the club and went home to my fiancé.” I said trying to get her to hear me out. “I had never seen your sister before I saw her picture on the news the next day. You have got to beli
eve me! I wouldn’t hurt her or any other person unless they wronged me. I had no reason to kill her!” I blurted out.

  She sucked her teeth and I knew she didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. For all I knew, she was calling the police and sending them to my location.

  “Pinky you know I ain’t have nothing to do with this!”

  “I don’t know shit about you! I know one thing and one thing only. You better either run, or let the police get you before I do! You have no idea who you are fucking with!” she said icily and then the line went dead. I stood there with the phone pressed to my ear with no one on the other end. Hopelessness began to sink in. There was no reasoning with her. There was only one thing left to do, and that was to get home to DC and figure out on my own who was trying to ruin my life. Everything else would have to wait.

  *****

  Hours later I was finishing up the last of my packing when Crack walked into the room.

  “Wassup Dread?” Crack asked. He watched from the doorway as I haphazardly threw my belongings into my suitcases. I jumped from the sound of his voice. I was a nervous wreck. I didn’t know who could be after me at this point. It could be Pinky, the police, or whoever was trying to set me up to take the fall for that murder.

  “I’m packing my shit to leave.” I said never stopping long enough to look at him. I just kept stuffing my belongings in my bags.

  “I have to get home! The shit going on is serious and it could fuck up my whole world. I haven’t heard shit from NiQue. I miss my daughter. Then there is the shit that happened to the nanny. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I swear on my life Crack, I’m gonna find out!” I said meaning every word.

  “I feel you man. I just hope you know what you are doing. You are risking everything by going home blindly. How are you gonna get there? I know you don’t plan on just waltzing into an airport and flying back!”

  “No, I don’t. That is where you come in old friend.” I said setting my plan into motion.

  I was getting home and there wasn’t a damn soul who was going to stop me either.

  Chapter Eighteen

  DJ Kool

  “Let Me Clear My Throat”

  Neko

  Over the last few days I had just said, “fuck it” and stayed away from Pinky. I tried everything I could to be there for her, yet she did nothing but push me away. I was getting sick of her acting like she didn’t want a nigga around. I wanted to be there for shorty, but she kept flipping the script on me. She wouldn’t let me in and that was the shit that was fucking with me the most.

  I had been spending more time at the shop and with Natalie than I had been with Pinky. I was starting to get sick of Natalie’s whiney ass too! When we were fucking she was always demanding shit, and when we were at work she was always acting like since she was giving me the pussy, she didn’t have to work. The only thing she was working was my nerves! Natalie was causing me more headache than she was worth and it was making me miss Pinky even more. I wasn’t used to a female invading my space.

  Pinky had managed to get herself together enough to finish arranging Khalia’s funeral. Today was the day we would lay her to rest. Today would also be the first time I had seen Pinky since we had the falling out.

  I left Shadow in charge of the shop for the day and planned on going to the funeral to pay my respects and see if Pinky was willing to talk rationally. I missed her; and it was time that we hashed this shit out.

  *****

  I entered the funeral home and it was standing room only. It really was a sad situation and just being there tugged on my heartstrings. A large poster of Khalia in her cap and gown was set up near the front of the funeral parlor; it was draped in a sea of flowers. There were people, mostly her high school friends and associates, standing in every corner comforting one another. My eyes scanned the room to see if I could locate Pinky. I didn’t see her. I made my way to an available seat and a familiar face caught my eye.

  Detective Gatsby was trying his best to go unnoticed. It was hard for him to do so being that he was the only out of shape, white man in an all black funeral. He hung around the exit of the funeral home and looked very much out of place. I didn’t want to lose the only seat in the house, but I wanted to know what he was doing here. Before I could get pass the crowded row of people to make my way to him to him, a group of young women walked over to him. I fell back because I didn’t know what their exchange was about.

  The girls all looked to be about Khalia’s age, and I recognized a couple of them as friends that she would go out with. As the approached Gatsby, his face turned beet red and worry spread across his chubby cheeks. After whatever words were exchanged between them, the Detective ducked out of the funeral home before I could speak with him. I went to sit back down in my seat; side stepping the people who were getting tired of me moving all around. I even heard one of the older women suck her teeth when I politely said, “excuse me.”

  It was already 11:30 a.m. and the services were supposed to have started at 11:00 a.m. It was typical black gathering. Nothing ever started on time. Another fifteen minutes had come and gone before Pinky entered in from the rear of the funeral parlor. She looked tired and worn out. Regardless of that she was still stunning. Her pink Chanel suit hugged her in the right places and her long pink locks hung in curls around her face. Out of respect for her sister, she pulled off the shades she was wearing. Pinky stopped to greet a few people who offered their condolences. I wanted so badly to go to her and pull her into my arms and tell her everything would be alright. I wanted to take care of her, but Pinky was so stubborn, she would surely reject me if I did.

  I watched as she carefully made her way to her sister’s casket. Once she got there her normally hard shell cracked before the world that was watching her. She began to cry. The tears were pouring from her eyes uncontrollably. I couldn’t take too much more of this. I got up again causing the old woman to roll her eyes at me for stepping over her feet again. I approached the spot where Pinky was standing.

  As I touched her shoulder lightly, she turned to see who was violating her last moment with her dearly departed sister. Once she saw it was me, she crumbled into my arms; sobbing loudly. We stood there holding one another for comfort. Seeing our emotions run high set off a chorus of tears throughout the entire funeral parlor.

  Pinky and I stood there, for what felt like an eternity, holding one another until the preacher politely let us know that we should begin the services. On cue, Pinky took my hand, leading me to the front pew where only the family was supposed to be seated; and she never let it go for the rest of the service. We sat there clutching each other and Pinky made it through the funeral without too many more tears.

  *****

  Hours later we were sitting in Pinky’s home. The repast was over, and even though I hadn’t left her side since we connected earlier, she hadn’t said much to me. The last guest was headed out of the door and I decided I would be the one to initiate the conversation. There was still much hostility hanging over us and we needed to address it so we could move on.

  Pinky and I were seated on the couch and the lingering smell of all the food that had been dropped off was still in the air.

  I broke the silence.

  “Pinky, for whatever it’s worth, I am truly sorry. I apologize for not being here for you when you needed me the most. I apologize for you having to deal with this. No one should have to go through this alone.” I said sincerely.

  Ever so softly, she leaned over and planted a kiss on my lips; it made me feel warm throughout my entire body. She didn’t have to say anything more. With that kiss I knew she had forgiven me for my behavior. She laid her head on my shoulder and locked our fingers together.

  “Neko, do you understand that I have to deal with this?” she asked.

  I nodded my head up and down. I knew what she meant. She was going to get her own kind of justice for her sister. She was looking for street justice. I couldn’t say I blamed her for wanting to e
liminate the monster who had taken the only person she loved unconditionally.

  “How are you going to do that?” I asked her not really wanting to know. I normally stayed out of her business when it came to anything dealing with her line of work, but this instance was different. “Do you have any idea who did it? Do you have any leads?” I asked her with curiosity.

  She lifted her head and we were eye to eye.

  “I have some information. I don’t want to involve you in any of this because it may get ugly once I lock on to him. The less you know, the better off you will be.” she said.

  I couldn’t help but wonder who her target was. I wanted to question her, but I knew how she operated. She moved in silence; and by herself, and I didn’t want to do anything else to upset her. If it meant being left in the dark about it then so be it. As long as she and I were on good terms, that is all I cared about.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chuck Brown and The Soul Searchers

  “Go-Go Swing”

  NiQue

  I woke up to the sound of the baby’s muffled cries. Motionless, I sat there coming down off of my high. I wondered why Joseah would allow the baby to continue to cry and cry. No sooner than I had the thought, the reality of it all came crashing down around me. There was no Joseah. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and raced out of my room and down the hallway to the baby’s nursery. The door was closed and I didn’t remember closing it.

  My heart started to beat faster and I threw the door open and was horrified to find my daughter with her mouth duck taped. She was thrashing around and being that she was only-three-months old, she didn’t have the ability to remove her make-shift gag. I rushed over to the crib and scooped her up in my arms and pulled the tape from her tiny lips, causing her to cry harder. I had no idea how long she had been in the nursery with her mouth bound, and I was scared of what else had happened to her while I had been unconscious from the strong drugs that were pumping through my body. I rocked her back and forth and she continued to cry.