Street Fame

by Elliott, K.

  “You black muthafucka. I know you killed my daughter.” “What are you talking about? Nobody’s dead, stupid bitch.” “Jennifer’s gone, and I know you had something to do with it.” “Who told you that?”

  “The hospital called me today and said she had died on a plane

  from Miami, and I know that’s where you took her.”

  “Are you serious? This is no time to be playing games, woman.” “Do you think I would play games with you like that … about my

  daughter, my flesh and blood?”

  “How did she die?” Twin asked. He began to feel emotional. “You killed her. That’s how she died, and that’s what I’m going to

  tell the police, and that’s what I’m going to tell the hospital … that your sorry ass killed her.” Twin moved the phone away from his ear as Barbara kept shouting obscenities. Finally he hung up. He called Tommy.

  “Hello.”

  “Jennifer died.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Her Mom just called me and told me she died on the plane from Miami.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “That’s what the bitch said.”

  Tommy sighed. “I wonder do Morgan know.”

  “She couldn’t know. She’s still on the road.”

  “Have you checked on her to make sure she hasn’t been pulled over or anything?”

  “No, but I’m going to call her in a minute.”

  “Don’t tell her about Jennifer just yet. You know how women can get all emotional and shit.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll talk to you later,” Twin said and hung up the phone. He began to pace. He thought about Jennifer and what she had meant to him. He thought about the good times they’d had in the beginning of their relationship. He felt like they were meant for one another. Although she was white, she could identify with his struggle. She was an outcast, too. Her family was poor, as was his; and she had an occupation that people frowned upon. So did he.

  He picked up a picture of Jennifer and himself taken at an amusement park. They were so happy then. He remembered all the stares he would get from black women, but he didn’t care. He was with someone who truly understood him, regardless of color, and he believed that Jennifer truly loved him. That was before the big money, the trips to Miami, and the kilos of cocaine ... before Tommy got the major connection with Manny.

  He’d always hustled, but never on a major level. He was considered small-time when he met Jennifer, selling an ounce of cocaine here and there to supplement his income. He had been a city sanitation worker, but he always dressed nice and drove nice cars, so women always thought he was a big-time hustler.

  The money came, and so did the problems. Jennifer would complain that they weren’t spending enough time together. So he’d give her money to keep her mouth shut. He’d buy her new purses and jewels to make up for lost time together. And then it was new cars, and he’d even given her the money to buy her new breasts. This kept her quiet for a few weeks, but then she wanted to go to Miami. Twin had initially told her that she couldn’t come, but she was adamant, even accused him of seeing “some bitch” in Miami. After weeks of opposition, Twin finally let her come. She became part of the operation. Jennifer became a drug-trafficking mule. The money had changed Twin, had changed his relationship, and had replaced the love of his life. He’d gotten to the point where he needed then money more than Jennifer.

  Twin picked up another picture of Jennifer. She was smiling brightly. It was her 25th birthday. He kissed the picture, and the tears continued to fall.

  ***** Twin hopped in his the truck and drove to JoJo’s house. Nia answered the door. She invited him in.

  “What’s up, Twin? Why you look so down?” JoJo asked. “Jennifer died.”

  “What?” JoJo said. “Come in and have a seat.”

  They sat in the living room. Nia stood beside Joe. Nobody said

  anything for about a minute. Finally JoJo asked, “How did she die?” “I don’t know. All I know so far is that she passed out on the

  plane.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah, I know. This whole thing has made me realize that life is

  too short, and I think you and Tommy should try to work out your

  differences. We’ve been friends for too long.”

  “I’m willing to put all the bullshit behind us,” JoJo said. Twin sighed, then he glanced at Nia.

  “Hey, Twin, I’m sorry Tommy had to get hurt … I really am. I

  mean, we all know Tommy’s a good person. The man wears his heart

  on his sleeve, and we know there’s nothing he won’t do for anybody,”

  Nia said.

  “I know, and that’s what’s fucked up about the whole situation,”

  Twin said. “Even though Tommy said he was thinking of moving to

  San Fran with Alicia, we don’t want him holding a grudge.” “You’re right, I think I should call and talk to him first,” Nia said. “I think I should talk to him first,” JoJo said.

  Twin stood. “I have to be going. I have to find out what happened

  to Jennifer.”

  JoJo and Twin hugged.

  ***** A task force comprised of state and local police and the DEA, was waiting along the Little Rock Road exit, looking out for a blue Chrysler 300, with a white female driver.

  Mark Pratt, received a call. “Hello. Pratt speaking.”

  “This is vice detective, Brad Thomas.”

  “How’s it going, Brad? Haven’t heard from you in a while.” “Yeah, I know, almost a year.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Bad news.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “One of your informants died. OD’d off X. Balloons filled with X

  were discovered in her stomach.”

  Ken Clarkson walked over. “What’s going on, Mark?” “Who?”

  “Paige Howard.”

  “Oh no!” Mark said.

  “Yeah. She died on a plane inbound from Miami.”

  “Dammit, man. That’s bad!” Mark said, sniffling. “How do they

  know she OD’d?”

  “What’s going on, Mark?” Ken Clarkson asked again. “Paige died.”

  “How? When?”

  “Yesterday. She was obviously smuggling X. It was found in her

  system.”

  “X?”

  “Yeah. She died on a plane.”

  “Do you think her boyfriend put her up to bringing the X back on

  the plane?”

  “I don’t know. Anything’s possible. Remember the time he had

  her call in and give us a tip on the two girls so Paige could smuggle

  the coke successfully?”

  “Yeah. The guy is a real winner,” Ken said sarcastically. A uniformed cop approached Mark and Ken. “A Chrysler 300 has

  been spotted about two miles away.”

  “Hopefully, Morgan will have all the answers,” Mark said.

  ***** A state trooper in a blue Mustang pulled Morgan over. She looked at the man in disbelief when he told her she was swerving.

  “License and registration please.”

  “This is a rental.”

  “Okay. Where is the rental agreement?”

  Morgan opened the glove compartment but found no rental agreement. She checked the console but still no sign of an agreement.

  “Hey, listen; I don’t know where the agreement is, but here is my license,” Morgan said, handing the man her license.

  The tall trooper looked at the license, passed it back to Morgan, and asked, “Ma’am, would you step out of the car?”

  Morgan looked as if she was about to cry. “Sir, what the hell is going on?”

  A second trooper pulled up beside them, then an unmarked car pulled up. Mark Pratt and Ken Clarkson presented their badges.

  Morgan started crying. “I don’t understand what’s going on?”

  “Ma’am, we have reason to
believe that you are trafficking ecstasy.”

  “Somebody lied on me. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Why are you crying?” Clarkson asked.

  “Because you’re just picking on me.”

  “Do you mind if we search your car?” Mark asked.

  “Hell no, I don’t want you to search my car.”

  Ken opened the car door, popped the trunk, and searched two suitcases before finding an overnight bag. He dumped the contents on the ground. Thousands of pills covered the ground. “Let me guess: You have a headache and this is your medicine,” Ken said.

  “Fuck you!”

  “No, fuck you. We’re going to put you away for a long time.” Ken laughed.

  Mark ordered the trooper to cuff Morgan.

  Tears filled her eyes. “Don’t take me to jail. Please don’t take me.”

  “It’s too late for that,” Ken said.

  “Take the cuffs off her,” Mark requested. “Morgan, take a walk with me.”

  ***** Inside the red SUV, Mark and Morgan sat and talked. She told him how she started dancing after she left home. Morgan was from Connecticut and had attended community college but never completed school. She went to work at Hooters for two years and made good money, but was told that the real money was in exotic dancing; so she started dancing at Twin Peaks. Most of the patrons were rednecks and Mexicans with very little money. She found her home in the Uptown Carousel. It was a clean club and most of the girls were very pretty, and this brought the elite clientele—athletes, businessmen and, of course, the hustlers—all of whom had money to throw away. She had taken a liking to Paige because Paige had showed her the ropes, the ins and outs of the club, the customers with the money, and the ones who didn’t have. Morgan broke down into tears when Mark told her that Paige had died.

  “You’re lying. Please tell me you’re lying.”

  “I’m afraid not. I wish it weren’t true, but she died on the plane. They found X in her system.”

  “What?” Morgan looked surprised.

  “Yeah, they found X in her system. She had swallowed three

  balloons filled with pills.”

  Morgan’s face was the color of a tomato. Her eyes were puffy.

  She couldn’t control her crying.

  Mark hugged her then said, “Morgan, it’s too late for Paige, but it

  isn’t too late for you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I need you to help us bring Tommy, Twin, and JoJo down. They

  are the bad guys. You hear me?”

  Morgan looked Mark in his eyes. “Yeah, they are the bad guys.” “Now, I’m going to need you to get one of them on the phone and

  tell them that everything is okay, and that you want to deliver the

  goods.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why can’t you do that?”

  “I don’t want to get anybody in trouble.”

  “Listen. Your friend is dead because of these guys.” Morgan wiped her face then looked out the window of the SUV. “I

  can’t do it.”

  “What do you mean? It’s your life here. Do you know there was a

  girl who got busted last week with five pills and got a year for each

  pill? You have thousands of pills and only one life.”

  “I understand what you’re saying, but I can’t do it. I’ll just have to

  get my dad to get me a good lawyer.”

  “This case is federal. There’s nothing a good lawyer can do for

  you.”

  “I made my bed. I’m going to have to lie in it.”

  “Are you sure you know what you’re talking about?” She thought about it. And thought about it. She wasn’t sure at all.

  She would have to think long and hard about it on the way to the

  federal building.

  Chapter 27

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, Tommy, everything is okay,” Morgan said.

  “How far are you away?”

  “About three hours.”

  “Three hours? You should be here by now. Are you sure everything

  is okay?”

  “Yeah, Tommy everything is fine.”

  “Are you calling me from your cell phone?”

  “Yes,” Morgan said.

  “Your number never came up private before.”

  “Tommy, would you like for me to call you again?”

  “No. I’m just wondering.”

  “Hey, Tommy, did you hear what happened to Jenny?” Morgan

  said, trying to change the subject.

  “No. What happened?”

  “She died on the plane.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Her family called me and told me.”

  “Damn, that’s a tragedy.”

  “I hear that they found X in her system.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yeah, she would often steal X from you guys.”

  “Why are you talking like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “Talking about drugs and shit. I don’t fuck with no X.” “I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, Morgan, you aint sounding right; is the cops with you?” “Hell no!”

  “Call me back; I want to see your number on my caller ID.” Tommy

  hung up the phone.”

  Morgan turned to Ken and Mark. “Where is my cell phone?” “It’s with the evidence.”

  “Can you get it? He’s suspicious.”

  “Yeah, he’s smart.”

  It took Ken five minutes to get Morgan’s cell phone. When he

  entered the interrogation room, he handed it to her and she called Tommy again.

  “Hello.”

  “Did my number show up this time?”

  “Yeah, I guess you must have been in a bad area.”

  “Yeah, okay, like I was saying, where do you want me to come

  see you?”

  “I don’t know; I’ll call you back with that?” Tommy said then hung

  up the phone.

  ***** JoJo’s number appeared on Tommy’s cell phone. What the fuck does this nigga want? I done told his punk ass I don’t want to have nothing to do with him. Tommy pushed the button to send him to voice mail.

  JoJo called again. This time Tommy answered. “Yeah, what do you want? I don’t fuck with you; Twin handles your side of the business.”

  “I want to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “I want to talk about us, man. You know we’ve been friends too long to be at odds with each other over some bullshit.”

  “Okay, stealing my woman is some bullshit?”

  “Tommy, you want Nia to be faithful to you, but have you been faithful to her?”

  “That’s beside the point.” Tommy hung the phone up.

  JoJo called again.

  “Hello.”

  “Tommy, did you know that Jenny died?”

  “Yeah, I know she died.”

  “Man, we need to at least be on speaking terms before something bad happens to one of us.”

  “Joe, man, this is it. After the packgage makes it, I’m off to Cali. You can stay here with your wife. You got her, buddy.”

  “Tommy—”

  Tommy hung up the phone.

  ***** Alicia called Tommy but he sent her to voicemail. There was simply too much going on right now to be somewhere cuddled up with her. A white woman had died—of an overdose of ecstasy. Ecstasy that he’d paid for with his own money. He figured the feds were probably checking her phone records to see whom she’d been in contact with. Hell, they knew she was Twin’s girlfriend. There was nothing good that could possibly come out of that. Tommy went home and changed his clothes. He wanted to go somewhere to think; he needed solitude. He wanted to go to the lake but decided against it when Twin showed up at his house.

  “What’s up, Twin?”

  “Nothing, man.” Twin began to pace.

  Tommy could tel
l that there was a lot on his mind.

  “I’m just so fucked up, man. You know I just can’t believe that my

  baby is gone.”

  “I know, right? I don’t know what to do, either. I mean, the other

  white chick called me. She was acting real weird, saying shit she

  shouldn’t have been saying on the phone.”

  “Shit like what.”

  “Suggesting that Jennifer stole some X from us.”

  Twin’s face became serious. “Do you think she’s been busted?” “I don’t know, but she’s claiming she’s going to be here in three

  hours.”

  “She should have been here by now.”

  “I know. That’s why I don’t know about meeting her. She knows

  about Jenny.”

  “How did she know that?”

  “Says Jenny’s family called her.”

  Twin sat on Tommy’s sofa. “Well, there is no way for me to check

  that because her stupid-ass mom won’t talk to me.”

  *****

  Tommy was about to get in his car when someone called out his name. When he turned to see who was calling him, he recognized the man immediately. It was J-Black, the man who’d robbed him twice.

  J-Black was smiling and holding a chrome handgun.

  Tommy took a step back, still watching the gun.

  “Let’s go back upstairs.”

  “Hey, man, I aint got no drugs or money.”

  “Nigga, don’t tell me what you ain’t got; just take me upstairs.” Once inside the apartment, J-Black ordered Tommy to stand to

  the side with his hands on his head. “If you take your hands off your head, I’mma blast your ass.”

  “I’m telling you, there ain’t shit in here.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” J-Black said. He searched Tommy. “Okay, where is it?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The dope, nigga, don’t play dumb with me.” J-Black cocked the hammer of the handgun.

  “Listen, man, don’t kill me. I’m telling you the truth; there ain’t shit here.”

  A sudden hardness appeared on J-Black’s face. “Okay, where is that punk ass Twin? I know that coward done moved or something.”

  “I don’t know where Twin is.”