by Wahida Clark
Nina had put her house up for sale, tied up all loose ends and was on her way to Florida with the kids to wait for Rick. Rick would meet up with her once he took care of some things on his end. If everything went as planned they were going to take a long vacation on somebody’s tropical island. But for now she was anxious to get out of Georgia, paranoid that Supreme would show her how far his hand could reach.
The WMM tapes had a lot of info on them, way too much. The tape that had Rinaldo and Charlie talking about their stash spot and their case were the only tapes that Rick kept. The rest of the tapes he turned over to Rhodes in exchange for his resignation letter, along with the classified info on everyone involved in the WMM case and walking papers for Nina.
With Nina and the kids tucked safely away, Rick was able to move around and do what he did best, get grimy with it. He learned that Shawn was fucking Rochelle, Rinaldo’s wife. Some bitches ain’t shit! Just like his ex-wife. A nigga can work hard as hell to get a bitch the way he wants her and the next nigga will move in and reap all the benefits, his woman, his pussy and his money. Rick was on a mission and would have to call in a few favors; his hookup with the bureau got him the pertinent flight information he needed. He thought that only Shawn was going to Florida, but as luck would have it Cream was going too, two birds with one big-ass rock. He wasn’t quite clear on the connection but vowed to be right there when the shit unfolded. This was the type of shit he lived for.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE END
Since Nina and the crew left, a completely new Platinum Team except for Frank and Pete was in place and grinding on the phones. Simeon was still working the rest of the sales force, enabling Rinaldo to clear another eight million dollars in two short months.
Charlie, Rinaldo’s partner from Florida, was now sitting in Rinaldo’s office. Charlie looked like an older James Bond. His six-three frame towered over Rinaldo’s desk as they argued back and forth. His thinning hair hung across his sweaty forehead. His steely blue eyes were pinned on Rinaldo.
“Let’s take our losses and close up shop.” He tried to reason with Rinaldo.
“Why we gotta close shop? We never ran from these fuckers before, why start now?” Rinaldo tried to rationalize with Charlie. “You are getting soft, old man.”
“Soft? I already did one bid. I ain’t trying to do another one. Hell, I’ll be fifty-nine next month but you got your whole life ahead of you. We’ve made millions together, man. You got to know when to walk away. That’s the sign of a smart man, Rinaldo. I know I taught you better than that. You can’t be too greedy in this business. If you do, you’re going to end up wearing football numbers. Charlie made another attempt to school his young protégé.
“Char, I just need you to hold it down up there a little while longer,” Rinaldo pleaded. “I’ll take the weight if need be and you know that. Just give me a couple more months.”
Charlie shook his head in disbelief, grabbed his briefcase and stormed out of Rinaldo’s office.
Rinaldo ran behind him. “What, man? You gonna give me two more months or what?”
“Rinaldo, I know you. Two months will turn into four, four will turn into eight. Then where are we?”
Rinaldo needed Charlie because the Florida address was where all the money was sent and all of the products were shipped from and administrative duties were handled. Charlie had always controlled all of the administrative and banking issues. Rinaldo only needed just a few more months.
The Florida Keys…
With Rick’s plan in motion he had to show up a day before to get his props. He borrowed a uniform and an unmarked vehicle, for a hefty fee, of course. Everyone has their price. He learned that a long time ago. He had visited the address to their stash spot and almost shitted on himself when he saw that it was a huge cemetery. He was convinced that it was no way they would stash millions in a damn cemetery. He was mad as hell and tossed and turned all night because he had looked and looked and came up empty. He didn’t know the exact spot.
The next morning his gut told him to go back and squat. And as always his gut was right on point. A little after noon, just when he was about to give up, he got excited and yelled, “Bingo,” when a dark blue Chevy Tahoe pulled up. The two passengers wasted no time jumping out. They both were wearing dark shades and were looking around nervously before heading to the huge mausoleum, which had a combination lock on it. These muthafuckers. Rick couldn’t help but laugh to himself. Soft-ass niggas trying to be gangsta.
After about twenty minutes Cream came out with a suitcase. Shawn followed with another one. They then went back and returned carrying a suitcase in each hand. And this time they were grinning from ear to ear.
They got in the Tahoe and pulled off. Rick started his ride and pulled off, keeping a safe distance. He followed the Tahoe for a half hour when they turned off onto Route 7.
He immediately cut the siren on and pulled them over.
“I told you to slow down, man!” Shawn barked. “Now look. We came all this way to get pulled over for some dumb shit. Slow down, man.”
“Fuck that shit. I’m going out with the goods or I’m going out blazing,” Cream spat as he patted the head of the gun that was tucked down in his waist.
“Ain’t this some shit,” Shawn mumbled while looking out the rearview mirror.
They sat waiting.
“What the fuck is he doing? It don’t take this long to run muthafuckin’ tags,” Cream spat.
Rick was indeed sitting there waiting. He needed a break in the traffic. When it finally slowed down he put on his dark shades and adjusted the hat on his head. He got out, hand on his burner, and walked up to the Tahoe.
“License and registration please, sir,” Rick instructed. The night that Rick beat his ass, Cream was so drunk that he didn’t even get a good look at him.
Cream started to buck but Shawn cleared his throat, reminding him to don’t even try it. When Cream leaned over to reach into the glove compartment, Rick pulled out his taped-up .38 and shot him in the back of the head. Before Shawn realized that this was the same nigga who fingerprinted him, Rick then aimed at Shawn and popped him twice in the dome. He snatched the keys out of the ignition and went to the trunk. He opened it and took out all of the suitcases one by one and placed them in his trunk. When he finished he got in his vehicle and pulled off.
He called Nina. “Flames, I’m good.”
“No problems?” She held her breath.
“No problems.”
Yesss! She exhaled. “You’re on your way here?”
“I’ll be there in about an hour.”
Nina was on the other end jumping up and down. The kids started jumping up and down along with her and had no clue as to why.
As Rick drove across the bridge, he tossed the gun and keys out into the water. When he arrived at the hotel, his contact was there to pick up the police car. Nina and the kids had the minivan packed and ready. He went inside of the hotel room.
The first stop was to cash in the gold coins. When they opened up the suitcase with the coins, Nina’s knees got weak. “Gotdamn! Gotdamn! Rick, do you see this shit?”
“I see it, baby. This is the fuckin’ jackpot.” He opened up one of the money suitcases and it was loaded.
“Whooooooo!” Nina screamed. She jumped in Rick’s arms and kissed him all over. “Let’s go, baby. Take me to Barbados, or should I go to Rodeo Drive first?” She tossed two handfuls of coins up into the air. All three kids jumped up and down and started yelling and swooping them up.
Rochelle had been blowing Shawn and Cream’s phones up. “Y’all muthafuckas think y’all can play me like this? I got news for y’all!” Neither one of them ever got back to her.
* * *
Rinaldo was on top of the world once again. It was Friday morning and he was having a meeting with his Platinum Sales Team with Frank sitting at the helm. He had lit a cigar and was boasting on how he was taking the wife and kids to Hawaii this weekend when Deanna an
nounced over the intercom, “Rinaldo, guess who just pulled into the parking lot? Charlie.”
“What?” He hit the intercom.
“Charlie is here.”
Rinaldo had a baffled look on his face. He didn’t tell me he was coming. “All right, this meeting is adjourned.” He cleared everyone out and went to the front.
Charlie had barged into the front door.
“Hey, Char, man. I didn’t know you were coming. What’s up? Come into my office.”
Charlie followed him down the hall. He slammed Rinaldo’s door. Rinaldo sat down. “What brings you to my side of town?” Rinaldo joked.
The look that he saw on Charlie’s face let him know that this was serious. Rinaldo leaned back, bracing himself. “What’s up, man? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? Is it that bad?”
“Where have you been, man?”
“Out running errands.”
“Not that bullshit! When is the last time you been to Florida? To our spot?” His voice boomed.
“Not since the last time. You know when I was down there. I never go there without you knowing about it. You know that. Why? What the fuck is wrong?”
“All of our stash is gone, Rinaldo. That’s what the fuck is wrong. I don’t have time for these games,” Charlie gritted. “I’m too old for this bullshit. Now I’m gonna ask one more time, when—”
Rinaldo was now up and on his feet, his face red. He had startled Charlie. “Man, you know I don’t fucking joke about my money. What do you mean our stash is gone? Charlie, you talking about over fifty million dollars.” Rinaldo reached over into his desk and pulled out and sucked on his asthma inhaler. He hadn’t used it in months.
“Cut the theatrics. I went to pick up something to put down on this plot of land and the shit was empty. Cleaned the fuck out. I hoped you had an explanation, and like I said I’m too old to be playing games. So cut the jokes.” Charlie was looking intensely at Rinaldo, looking for any signs, a clue, something that let him know that his little protégé was pulling the wool over his eyes. The asthma pump is definitely a nice touch, he said to himself.
“Only you and I have the keys and combination to that spot and I haven’t been there since the last time. So what the fuck are you trying to pull, Charlie? I may be young, but I am not into playing games either.”
They were now glaring at each other.
BOOM! BOOM!
“What the fuck?” Rinaldo jumped out of his chair and charged out of his office.
“On the floor, hands behind your head, you maggot!” the agent yelled. “We got both of you muthafuckas this time!” It was the same agent who led the last raid and investigation. He handcuffed Rinaldo and the other agent handcuffed Charlie as the rest of the agents swarmed the offices, guns drawn. Déjà vu.
Everything rained down on Rinaldo at once. Rochelle and his son weighed heavily on his mind. She wouldn’t come and see him and whenever he called home she was very distant and short with him. She kept asking him how did he expect her to live. He sent Mack by the house to check on her and she would only question him about his finances.
Now he couldn’t believe what he was hearing as he paced the client-attorney room. Matt, Mack and Dave, all three attorneys had a look on their face that said, “I told you so.”
He was denied a bond and had been sitting in the Federal Detention Center for three weeks now.
“All right, lay it on me.” Rinaldo wearily ran his fingers through his hair.
“Where should I start?” Mack smirked. “You would be free if you hadn’t went back and opened up shop. But we could delay the trial for at least a year.”
“I don’t pay you to tell me what I already know,” Rinaldo barked at him.
“Okay, well the girl Nina is gone. Her house is up for sale. The tall guy Milt, he’s still around. He did call our office to check on you. Your brother made bail.”
“Damn, I didn’t know that.” Rinaldo sighed. “I was hoping he would have been in touch by now.”
“If you want us to track him down, we will,” Mack assured him.
“No. No. That won’t be necessary. He will eventually surface.”
“I’m not so sure about that. He’s talking about taking a deal.”
“What?” All of the attorneys nodded.
“And I think you should know that Pete died just last week.”
“I thought he was just hit by the truck. He died?” Rinaldo yelled.
“I’m afraid so. He was in critical condition from day one. Sorry, Rinaldo,” Mack stated apologetically.
“Sorry,” Dave said. Matt just looked at him and shrugged his shoulders.
“Geesh. This is fuckin’ unbelievable. Where is Shawn?”
“We don’t know yet,” Mack told him.
Finally, Rinaldo stood up and began pacing the floor.
“What do you want us to do, Rinaldo?” Mack asked in the tone of a concerned parent.
Grabbing the seat and sitting back down, he said, “It’s nothing you can do, man, but get me out of here. What’s the strategy?”
Dave opened his briefcase, pulled out a folder. He slid Rinaldo a stack of papers.
“Here is the discovery motion. There was a bug placed under your desk. So not only do the feds have all of your phone conversations, but they’ve got sales meetings and the office chatter as well.”
“Okay. What else do they have? What else am I looking at? I’m not worried about that.”
“Mack.” Dave nodded to Mack. He wanted him to have the honors.
“Rinaldo, there is a second superseding indictment, new charges of tax evasion and, in layman’s terms, I guess they threw in for good measure charges of running a prostitution ring.”
“Mack, they got me fucked up! I am not going down by myself. Get me somebody to talk to. This was Charlie and Shawn’s operation. They were in charge. I just worked there. I need to talk about a deal.”
“A deal?” Mack asked incredulously. “Who are you gonna flip on? Everybody on your sales team has already taken one except for Milt, and there’s no word on Shawn or the girl. To add insult to injury, Charlie may even flip.”
He tossed another file in front of him.
“What’s this?” Rinaldo didn’t touch it.
“They are charging you with the murder of Darwin Branson. Armand is the witness the government has to testify against you.”
“Man, that’s bullshit and I know that’s beatable. It’s his word against mine.”
“One more thing.”
“One more thing? Y’all muthafuckas keep piling shit on piece by piece. Just give it all to me. Y’all muthafuckas are on the clock.”
Mack pushed a small recorder in front of him.
“What is this?”
“Obviously your boy Armand didn’t trust you, because he taped every meeting and phone call you guys had.”
Rinaldo burst into laughter. “So everyone is flipping, talking, missing in action, and y’all muthafuckas sittin’ here like the Keystone cops.”
All of the lawyers looked at one another. Matt was the first to speak.
“Since you have all of the answers and we work for you, what is the strategy?”
Rinaldo looked around at all of them. He lit a cigar and sat back. He puffed, blew out smoke rings and was deep in thought. He did this for about ten minutes.
“You know what?” They all scrambled for their notepads waiting to hear what he had up his sleeves and ready to take notes. “I played the hand that I was dealt and I wouldn’t change a muthafuckin’ thing!”
READING GROUP GUIDE
1. What do you think of Reese telling Nina that he had a family?
2. Did Nina appear desperate for love?
3. Should she have taken her children to Georgia with her from the very beginning?
4. Did you ever get the impression that Nina didn’t want her children?
5. Should Nina have tried harder to find her baby, Jatana?
6. What were your thoughts of Cre
am?
7. What was your opinion about the firm WMM (We Make Millionaires)?
8. What did you think about Rinaldo? Did he have to run his operation with an iron fist? Or was it totally unnecessary?
9. Should Rochelle have shown more loyalty to Rinaldo?
10. Were you surprised at Rick showing up in the story? Did he fall for Nina a little too quickly?
11. If you were Nina, how would you have handled the situation with Deacon Rutherford, her mother and daughter?
12. What should have been Rinaldo’s fate?
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
All praise is forever due to the Creator. My family, you guys are the best. Thank you for holding it down and for all of your many sacrifices.
To my husband, Yah Yah, I can’t image no me without you. To the WCP street team, you guys are the shiznit and we always shine wherever we go. I appreciate y’all. Omar, Rahman, Al-Nisa, Hasana, Lil’ Wahida, Hadiyah and Nobel. To the Lil’ Street Team in training, Jordan Brown and Islama, you make me proud.
To the family behind the scenes, Lindsey, Jamil, Ebony, Kisha, Hijrah, Samataha, Sabir and Darrin. Thanks!
To my right hand, Lil’ Wahida, aka Marie. Love you. Hasana, you make me proud.
Karen Thomas, my editor from day one. Thank you so much for not being a “yes man.” Can I take you with me? Again, I can’t thank you enough. To the rest of the Hachette Team: Latoya Smith, thanks for your happy e-mails. Linda Duggins, thanks for plugging me in wherever you could. Samantha, thanks for the support.
To all the booksellers and street vendors, thanks for your hustle. I appreciate you. Keisha Caldwell, you are counting down. Love you and thanks for always being there and remaining the same.
To the WCP Authors: Cash, Mike Sanders, Missy Jackson, Tash Hawthorne, The Country Boys, Anthony Fields, Dion Jones, and Victor Martin and those to come, it’s on and poppin’!