Sloan’s eyes instantly widened. He stood up and walked around to the other side of the desk. “Isn’t that interesting?” he said.
“That’s exactly what I thought,” Price said. “And, there’s more. I also remembered how the two of you had said that your suspects were operating with guns that had silencers on them.”
“Yeah,” Sloan said. “And?”
“Because,” Price said, turning over to the next document. “I talked to several neighbors. Upper-class, hardworking people who were so surprised to have anything like this happen in their neighborhood. However, not a single one of them said they heard a thing. No gun shot. And you know how they build these subdivisions out in suburbs nowadays, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Rodgers said. “So damn close that you can hear your neighbors arguing through closed doors.”
“Exactly,” Price said. “And the crazy thing is that they said they heard some gun shots last Monday morning. However, by the time the police showed up to patrol the block and see what was going on, there was nothing to be seen. They said it’s been like a neighborhood mystery, and they were sure that Byron had something to do with that too.” Price looked toward the second level of the station, remembering she had to meet with someone in a different department. “I gotta go work on something else for the Captain. Something to do with some dead prostitute. When you two get done with the notes from this case, could you just drop them back on my desk so I can look at them when I get back.”
“No problem,” Sloan said, waving. “Well, isn’t this interesting? What did I tell you, Rodgers? This really does go deeper. It looks like this Byron guy had a bunch of funny money coming in from unexplainable places. On top of that, they also didn’t find a phone at the scene…at his house.”
“Isn’t that strange?” Rodgers said. “A young guy like that not having a cell phone on site when the police get there?”
“How much you wanna bet that his brother, this Ryan, who said he found him has that cell phone?” Sloan asked. “I would bet money that when the brother found his brother, he grabbed his cell phone.”
“Yeah, I bet he did,” Rodgers said. “And I know exactly why. I used to see stuff like this happen on the streets all the time. That brother is about to go after Tramar and Jackson…”
“For killing his brother,” Sloan said, groaning. “Fuck, this case just got more complicated.”
“I know,” Rodgers said. He noticed something else in the report. “And look at this too, Sloan. Byron owns a Bugatti.”
“Well, isn’t that a nice car?” Sloan said, snickering. “I’m sure it was nice to ride around in Chicago in that.”
“That’s the thing,” Rodgers said. “Who is riding around in it now? It wasn’t at the house when the police found the body, and there were no signs of the car having been there for a while. It also seems, from whoever’s handwriting this is, that the brother didn’t take the car. Sloan, man, we gotta work on finding Tramar, Jackson, and Ayana while Ryan, and whoever he knows, is out to get them too.”
“We just gotta make sure we get them first,” Sloan said. “I’m going to talk to the Captain really quick.” He turned and walked toward his commanding officer’s desk.
“About what?” Rodgers asked.
Sloan stopped and turned around briefly. “A press conference,” he replied. “Wherever Tramar, Jackson and Ayana are, they need to be stopped. If they killed a security guard and this Byron guy, on top of robbing three banks in two days, they need to be stopped and apprehended. Who knows what they might do next?”
Chapter 5
Ryan squeezed his stress ball in his right hand as he reflected on the various weeps and sobs he’d just had to endure. Having to call his family and tell them about the murder of his brother was probably the hardest thing he’d ever had to do in his life. His aunt in Milwaukee practically passed out, making him wish that he’d driven up and told her face-to-face. Their cousins in Indianapolis and Louisville said that they’d be coming up to Chicago as soon as they could get off of work. Ryan told them to take their time. He’d begin to plan Byron’s funeral tomorrow.
His uncles, who were all strong men, obviously wanted to shed a tear at hearing about their nephew’s death. It was so tragic, especially since their mother and father had both passed on within the last five years. Ryan couldn’t help but hear the echoes of the tears. The memories bounced around in his hand, sometimes playing over and over again. He knew that the real show was going to go down at the funeral. His family was always an emotional bunch.
Ryan was now waiting on Juan and Knight to call and say that they were pulling into the garage downstairs. As much as he didn’t want to have them come into the building and be associated with his name, he needed to get some information out of them. At first, he’d thought about meeting them over at his brother’s house or his grandmother’s house. But his brother’s house would bring about feelings that were too painful for him. Just the thought of his brother’s body sitting down in that basement for a couple of days made him angry. He really didn’t deserve to have that happen to him. And he wasn’t going to go to his dead grandmother’s house because there was no doubt in his mind that the neighbors would now be looking at the house in a different way since a naked man sat tied up on the front poor with his legs, and underwhelming manhood, open to the world.
Ryan’s phone vibrated on his brown leather couch next to him. He picked it up and answered. “Yeah?” It was Juan, saying that they were downstairs. Ryan gave him the passcode, reminded him which unit was his, then hung up the phone. Ten minutes passed and there was a knock at the door. Ryan stood up and opened the door. He practically groaned at the sight of Juan and Knight, telling himself deep down that this was something he had to do.
“Come on in,” he said.
Juan and Knight headed inside. They took a seat on one of Ryan’s couches, which somewhat irritated him as he’d planned on having them sit at the dining room table. The chairs there were wood and could easily be wiped down after they left.
“Y’all want anything to drink?” Ryan offered, walking over toward the kitchen.
“Sure,” Juan said, smiling. He looked around the apartment, seeing that Ryan’s apartment basically represented everything he had always dreamed of having. “What do you got, man? Man, this is a nice apartment.”
“Thank you,” Ryan said. He then rattled off the few options of drinks he had. After making Juan a drink then Knight, he handed their drinks to them and sat down across from them in the living room. He looked across at the two men as they gulped their drinks, hoping to God that they didn’t spill any on his furniture or on his carpet.”
Ryan allowed them to get good and comfortable before he began. Sure, he remembered what he’d learned earlier from them upon finding them tied up at his dead grandmother’s house. However, he had been too depressed then to pay much attention. The information really didn’t set with him in a way that he was able to process. Now, in the privacy and familiarity of his own Northside condo, Ryan was all ears. He was determined to get Tramar and Jackson and was willing to do whatever it took to get it done.
“Okay, you niggas,” Ryan said. “I need to hear y’all go over this shit again, so I can make some fuckin’ sense out of what happened to get to this point, and how the fuck y’all wound up tied up like that.”
“Man, here’s what happened,” Knight began. “Like we told you, them niggas ran up on Byron and took all his shit for no reason. They even went upstairs to the safe and just cleaned the nigga out while he was over there with some chick.”
“What chick?” Ryan asked.
“We don’t know,” Juan said. “Man, you know your brother be keepin’ hoes around him… Bad bitches, at that. I know he be showin’ you the photos and shit that we be takin’ when we be chillin’ over there and shit.”
“Okay, whatever, go on,” Ryan told them.
“So, yeah,” Knight said. “Byron was sayin’ that them niggas held him at gunpoint and
shit, naked. When they did that and they left, Byron had a shootout with them on the street. So, you see, that’s when Byron had us find out where them nigga’s families lived. You know how niggas out in the streets talk. We wound up talkin’ to some bitches that had fucked around with the Jackson dude and found out the other dude’s name, Tramar. From there, we found out that his family, his father and stepmother, live not too far from here, really. We went and grabbed them up one morning when they wasn’t even expectin’ it. Byron had us take them back to your dead grandmother’s house, and we was keepin’ them there until Byron got his million.”
“Million?” Ryan asked, sounding surprised. “He told them niggas to bring a million?”
“Yup,” Juan said, tired of hearing Knight tell the story. “Byron told them that if they wanted they family back, they needed to come up with a fuckin’ million. Next thing you know, we seein’ these niggas on the news for robbin’ banks and shit downtown and in Indiana. But, what they ain’t know is that Byron kept his ear to the street. He found out what motel they was stayin’ at and everything. They some scary ass, punk ass niggas, man.”
“So, how the fuck these punk ass niggas tie y’all niggas up?” Ryan asked.
Knight began to explain. “Juan’s stupid ass opened the door and shit.”
“Shut the fuck up, Little Dick,” Juan said, purposely raising his voice higher than Knight. “What happened was we was over there chillin’ with some hoes,” he said. “And when I went to the door, he said that he was a neighbor and shit. At first, I ain’t believe him, but when he asked for Byron, that told me that they really did know who be at the house, man. So, I opened the door.”
“And that’s when they rushed in and got they family back,” Ryan said, getting tired of hearing these sorry dudes explain. “And then they tied y’all naked asses up to chairs, and put you out on the front porch to expose you.”
Knight nodded, at a total loss for words.
“Then they went and killed my brother,” Ryan said. “But, wait, if you two said you saw Byron that night after them niggas came and tied you up, which I remember you sayin’ earlier and shit, then Byron knew that they’d gotten their family back and shit?”
“Yup,” Juan said. “He knew. I don’t know where he went after that, though. He ain’t tell us.”
“Well, it wasn’t like telling you would have really mattered anyway,” Ryan said. “See, that’s what I’m try’na figure out. If Byron left y’all knowin’ that Tramar and Jackson had got they family back, then how would they have gotten my brother again? I mean, what would have made him lower his guard to the point where they’d be able to walk up on him and kill him like that.”
“I don’t know,” Juan said. “I’m just as surprised as you. I mean, maybe he thought that since they’d already gotten their family back, they would just go away and think it was over.”
“Naw, it wasn’t over,” Ryan said, standing up. “And it still ain’t over. I told y’all niggas, I’mma catch them couple niggas before the police do. I hit up this Jackson nigga earlier. Put a little bug in his ear that time would be running out for him.”
“What you gon’ do?” Juan asked. “And what is it that you want us to do?”
Ryan turned and looked at Juan. “I’m thinking,” he said. “I wonder if the family is in contact with him or not. Shit, if them niggas on the run for robbin’ banks and killin’ security guards and shit, then I’d hope that they not dumb enough to be using a phone that they can use to track they asses. Plus, that’s right!” He slammed his fist into his thigh. “They out there drivin’ Byron’s Bugatti.”
“What the fuck!” Juan said. “Is you fuckin’ serious? They out there drivin’ that Bugatti and shit while they on the run?”
“Nigga, what the fuck did you just hear me say?” Ryan asked. “That’s what the fuck I said. They not gon’ be drivin’ in it for long. The police gon’ be on that shit because I mentioned that it was gone when I got there.”
“Shit, ain’t no tellin’ how far they done got now,” Knight said. “I mean, man, you know that Bugatti can drive fast as fuck and shit.”
“Yeah, but it draws a lot of attention,” Ryan said. “That’s why a lot of niggas get caught up in situations and shit. Because they want attention. I used to tell that nigga, Byron, to stop drivin’ that car around. All you doin’ is drawin’ attention to yourself and most of the time it’s not even good attention. They not gon’ be drivin’ that car for long. Them white people gon’ see them in that car and pull them over now that they know it’s involved in a murder and shit. Fuckin’ trust me on that. They not gon’ be drivin’ that car for long. If anything, that car might be the reason they asses get caught and locked up. That’s why we gotta get back at the family.” Ryan looked at the confused looks on their faces. “Think about it, niggas. These niggas will obviously go to great lengths to get they family and shit back, right?”
Knight and Juan nodded, agreeing. “Yeah,” Juan said.
“So, we gotta use they family to get them to come back out of hiding, wherever the fuck they are,” Ryan said.
“Man, it’s been like a day and some change since they done probably left town,” Juan said. “What if they far, far away from Chicago and shit? I mean, how we gon’ get them to come all the way back up here from wherever they might be if they know the police and shit is gon’ be waitin’ here, ready to take’em in by any means necessary?”
“Family, I said, nigga,” Ryan said. “If we get the right family member, they’d fly they asses back across the Atlantic to try to save things. And when they do, that’s when I’mma get they ass. When Byron had y’all get out in the streets and listening, what did you find out about these niggas?”
“The Jackson nigga ain’t really got much goin’ on,” Knight said. “I mean, man, his mother is already dead. His father, I couldn’t even find anybody that knew shit about him. Tramar was the one that people knew more about. Apparently the dude was kinda popular or some shit in high school. I noticed that lot of women seemed to know who he was. And they would go on for a little bit when talkin’ ‘bout his ass. It was almost like he was Chris Brown or Trey Songz or somebody. Them hoes was on his dick.”
Ryan could sense the resentment in Knight’s voice. He chuckled before he said, “Yeah, well, you know what that probably means. Ain’t too many niggas gettin’ talked about like that that ain’t already got no baby, especially over on the south side.”
“You know what?” Juan said. “I think you right. Now that I think about it, I remember when we ran up in them niggas’ house that morning and carried they ass outta there. I remember seein’ some pictures on the first floor and shit that had a little boy in them. Now that I think about it even more, I seemed to see more pictures of that little boy than any other little nappy head nigga in there.”
Ryan nodded his head. “And if grandpa got pictures of the baby, then that mean that daddy must be around to see the baby,” he said. “That shit will work. We need to find out about this little boy.”
“Man, you really thinkin’ about goin’ and kidnappin’ the little boy over this?” Knight asked. “I mean, the kid can’t be that old. How fuckin’ old is Tramar anyway?”
Ryan looked over at Knight, in disbelief that he’d said such a thing. Just as he was about to open his mouth to respond, he decided that he needed to use his actions to send a message rather than his words. Ryan calmly stepped over toward Juan and Knight. His shadow preceded him, casting itself over Juan and Knight in a very intimidating way. Ryan, looking dead into Knight’s eyes, lifted his hand and backhanded Knight across the face as hard as he could. “Say somethin’ else,” he said. “I don’t know what kinda shit my brother was lettin’ you get away with when you was workin’ for him, but as far as I’m concerned, y’all niggas the reason he got killed. You should be lucky I don’t go get my gun and put a fuckin’ bullet in y’all’s heads the same way they put one in my brother’s head.”
Knight rubbed the side o
f his face, feeling it sting as he looked down at the ground. Juan chuckled at his buddy, almost feeling sorry for the massive number of losses he’d been taking over the last couple of days. It just seemed as if the rain would not stop for him no matter how hard he tried to avoid it. Juan shook his head as he thought about it.
“Hell fuckin’ yeah, we gon’ go after the boy,” Ryan said. “And, if we can’t find him, then we gon’ get the daddy and stepmother again. For all I know, they prolly think all this shit is over, and that they ain’t gotta worry no more because Byron is dead. I don’t know what they know, but we gotta be a little smart about this shit. We already know that the fuckin’ police in both Illinois and Indiana gon’ be lookin’ for their asses. That’s why we gotta make sure that we got a edge above them. Give Tramar and Jackson a reason to get back to Chicago as quickly as possible while avoidin’ the fuckin’ police and shit. So, yeah, if we can get the little boy, I want the little boy. Find out who the baby mama is. Shit, maybe she the kinda chick that will be happy to have the attention of some man or somethin’. If that’s the case, this shit gon’ be easy as fuck.”
Ryan picked up the glasses that Juan and Knight had been drinking from and returned them to the kitchen. When he came back out and into the dining room area, he looked over at the two men. He shook his head. “What the fuck is up with the two of you?” he asked. “Why the fuck y’all niggas still sittin’ there if I told y’all what we gon’ do?”
Knight looked up hesitantly, clearly intimidated and emasculated. Juan, feeling a little bolder, spoke up and said, “We ain’t talk about the money part,” he said.
Ryan hurried into his bedroom. He went into his stash in the closet, hidden away in what appeared to be only a row of books up above some hanging clothes. He grabbed a few straps of fifty-dollar bills and walked back into the living room. He hurled the money at Juan and Knight then said, “Here, niggas! There’s some fuckin’ money. Get your stupid asses up and the fuck out my face and get to findin’ out who this baby mama is and shit so we can get movin’. We ain’t got forever to get this shit done. I already know the police about to jump on this. I called Jackson earlier and introduced myself. Trust me, I am more than sure them niggas are workin’ on gettin’ back to Chicago as we speak.” He turned away as Knight and Juan dashed for the door to follow the instructions. “And I’mma make sure they get what’s comin’ to them,” he added, speaking softly with tight lips.
When It All Falls Down 4 - It Just Ain't Over Yet: A Chicago Hood Drama (A Hustler's Lady) Page 8