by D. Gamblez
“How old are you again? ‘Cause right now I’m sensing that you’re about eight, nine, maybe?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever... Anyway, why don’t you call her?”
“Call who?”
“Uh...your daughter, dingbat. Call her. I’m sure she misses you.”
“Nah, I’ll just wait until I get home,” I said, but I found myself reaching for my phone a few seconds later.
When I dialed my home number, Winona picked up half-ring.
“Hell-o-oh!”she said cheerfully.
“It’s me, Nona . What’s up?”
“I know that, baby mama. Guess what I cooked for dinner?”
“What’s that, girlfriend?” I beamed. I was glad to hear that Winona was in a good mood. Since the night of the Death Dealer’s murderous attack at our condo, she had been kind of distant and fidgety whenever I would leave the house. I was happy to hear the old joyful and spunky attitude that Winona was best known for.
“Stuffed veal, fresh-from-scratch mashed potatoes with chives and parmesan, corn on the cob, broccoli, and Texas garlic toast. Oh, and for the dessert, Entenmanns’s strawberry-topped cheesecake. How do you like me now?”
“I like you very much,” I smiled. “What made you want to cook like that tonight? You getting some nookie on the side behind my back?” I joked.
“Shit, I wish. Hold on, M’kayla wants to talk to you.”
I waited for a brief pause before my daughter’s loving voice came over the phone.
“Mommy!” s
The sound of her voice nearly brought me to tears.
“Hey, baby,” I said getting teary-eyed after all. “What are you doing? Did you help Auntie Winona cook?”
“I helped a little, but she said I was in the way, so she made me go into the living room. But she let me play Mario Kart, Mommy!”
“Don’t lie to your mommy, M’kayla,” I heard Winona saying in the background. “I told you to go into the living room to play your video games because you kept sneaking into the fridge and pinching off of the cheesecake. Now, tell Mommy the truth or you’re not getting any more cake tomorrow.”
“Okay, Auntie Winona,” M’kayla sighed.”Mommy, I was pinching off of the cake. Sorry I lied.”
“That’s okay, baby. You tell Auntie Winona that I said you can pinch as much cake as you want,” I giggled like a little kid. What can I say, I loved my daughter. She even brought out the kid in me.
“Okay, Mommy. Auntie Winona, Mommy said I can pinch as much... I mean, she said... What did you say, Mommy?”
“You can pinch as much cake as—” I tried repeating, but M’kayla cut me off before I could finish.
“Mommy said I can have all the cake!”
“You’re not getting all the cake. You’ll get a stomach ache. Now, tell Mommy bye-bye and give me the phone, then you can go get ready for bed.Make sure you brush all of your teeth, not just the front ones. You’ve got ten minutes until bedtime, you hear me, young lady?”
“Yes, Auntie Winona. I gotta go Mommy. Bye-bye, I love you.”
“I love you, too, baby,” I said, but she’d already given the phone back to Winona.
“I swear you spoil that girl something rotten,” Winona teased.
“I spoil you, too,” I reminded her. “Don’t think I don’t know it’s you that’s pillaging the fridge and eating all my leftovers late at night, especially whenever it’s something sweet.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, officer,” she fibbed.”Listen, I gotta finish cleaning up. What time will you be home?”
“In a little while,” I promised. “Tell M’kayla I love her and I’ll see you guys in a little bit, all right?”
“Gotcha, babe. Holla.” Then the line went dead.
“You’re a great mom,” Vida said softly, squeezing my arm gently. I’d forgotten she was even in the car with me. Actually, since it was her Mustang, I was in the car with her, but you get my meaning.
“Thanks,” I said. “So...when are you gonna have kids?”
She looked at me like I’d just asked her to jump out of a plane without a parachute. “Anyway...” she said, ignoring my question and changing the subject. “So what are we doing here? We hanging out or...?”
I nodded.
“Like on a stakeout?”
“Like on a stakeout.”
I may have Vida fooled with my intentions regarding DeAndre Harris, but I can’t fool myself. The reason I’m here is because I want to see him, flirt with him, maybe. What the hell is wrong with me? Has it really been so long that I’m willing to risk my job for some kind of sexual release from just about anybody nowadays?
Audi
The phone rang for the umpteenth time, but there was still no answer.
“Fuck!” I shouted at no one in particular. I was hiding in the bathroom stall in the restroom at my place of employment; the local grocery store. My half hour break had ended over an hour ago, but since I’d spent that entire period trying unsuccessfully to reach Dre, I’d been sneaking into the restroom to use my phone. I only did so whenever the check-out lines got short so my absence didn’t get noticed.
“Audi!” my friend Melissa, whose was watching out for me at the door, said in a low but alarming voice.”Here comes Shelly.”
Mrs. Shelly Fields was the assistant manager on shift tonight. She was a real bitch, too, and if she caught me back here on the phone, on company time, I’d be terminated for sure.
I hurried out of the office and ran into the restroom. I flushed the toilet in the first stall and grabbed a handful of paper towels, pretending like I’d just got finished washing my hands.
Mrs. Fields entered the restroom and walked right up to me. “You got diarrhea or something, Ms. Escobar?” she said, folding her arms across her chest like a mother who’d caught her daughter doing something wrong.”This is your fourth time back here in the last hour. If you’re not feeling well, you can go home...or you can get back to your register and finish out the rest of your shift.”
“No, I’m fine,” I said. “Sorry, Mrs. Fields. I’ll get right to work.”
“And as for you,” I heard Fields saying to Melissa as I hurried out of the restroom. “Stop having your little boyfriends calling up here looking for you. This isn’t your home, you know.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Melissa said as she hurried out of the restroom and caught up with me. As soon as we exited the double-doors to the backroom and rounded the corner of the first aisle, Melissa grabbed me by the arm and turned me to face her. “Didn’t I tell your ass to hurry up? Now you done got me in trouble,” she said, whipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder as she pointed at me. “What’s up with you today? Are you and Dre fighting or something?”
Without meaning to, I started to cry. “Something’s wrong, Melissa. I can feel it.”
“What are you talking about, girl?” Melissa asked, her sassy attitude now replaced with one of concern. “What’s going on, Audi?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing,” I lied. “I gotta go. Tell Mrs. Fields I got sick and went home, okay?”
“You know she’s gonna tell Shane on you tomorrow, right?” she warned.
“I don’t care. I gotta go,” I said over my shoulder. I did not even bother with clocking out as I ran out the door and jumped my red Dodge Intrepid ESX. I turned the ignition and floored it as soon as it hummed to life, leaving smoke and the smell of burning rubber in the parking lot as I sped off in the direction of my house. Even the Gucci Girlz were not answering their phones.
What the fuck is going on with nobody answering their damn phones today? Yeah, something is definitely wrong.
As soon as I pulled into my driveway, Cherish hopped up off the porch and came running up to my car like a mad woman, and I knew right in that moment that my worst fears had come true.
“Something’s wrong, Audi,” she said frantically. She was dressed in nothing but a purple sports bra, baggy blue jeans, and grey and purple Nikes. Her usually well-mainta
ined frizzy orange and black Creole hair was now unkempt and all over the place.”Raheem hasn’t texted me, and when I used my neighbor’s phone to call him, he didn’t answer.”
“I know,” I agreed. “Dre’s not answering either. I think I texted him about a hundred times, but he hasn’t texted or called me back yet. Come on, girl, let’s go inside. Can’t really do shit out here but worry.”
“That sergeant chick from the hospital the other day is parked across the street,” Cherish whispered. “Her and some other chick has been sitting there for over an hour, probably longer. I only got here about an hour ago and they were already parked there.”
I didn’t want to be obvious, so I waited until we were inside before I turned around and at the dark red Mustang parked on the curb.
Now I know something’s wrong. This sergeant chick showing up in front of our house around the same time that Dre and them are supposed to be handling the Diego situation is far from a coincidence.
“Where’s your phone, Audi?”Cherish asked from the kitchen. “I’m gonna call Makita and Coco to see if they’ve heard anything.”
“It’s right here in the living room, sitting in the charger on top of the TV. Wait, how come you were sitting out on the porch? Why didn’t you use the key I gave you? And why were you using your neighbor’s phone? Where’s yours?”
“I dropped the key you gave me in the fucking sewer drain on the way over here when I almost tripped over some kid’s goddamn big wheel that he left in the middle of the sidewalk. And the service on my phone got cut off because Raheem’s forgetful ass forgot to pay the bill this month. So I walked over here to your house, but I forgot you were at work. Then I was about to walk back, but I figured if Dre and the guys came back, they’d come here first. So that’s why I was sitting on the porch when you pulled up.”
“Where’s your car?” I asked.
“At the crib, I guess,” she said, shaking her head out of frustration. “Raheem was the last one with my keys and I don’t know what he did with them.”
“Why didn’t you just take Raheem’s Cadillac?”
“I don’t know,” she said, throwing up her hands in frustration. “Couldn’t find the keys to that car either.”
“Let me see if Dre called yet,” I said, reaching to retrieve my phone from my belt. Not finding it, I realized that I’d left it in the car. “I’ll be right back,” I said to Cherish as I unlocked the front door and turned the knob, but as soon as the door swung open, I noticed that the Mustang across the street where the sergeant chick and her friend were sitting in was now empty. That is because the sergeant chick and her friend were standing on my front porch.
“Hi,” the sergeant said in a friendly tone as if we were long time neighbors.”Audriana Escobar, right? In case you don’t remember me, I’m Sergeant Mills of the Homicide Unit out of the Gary Police Department, and this is Detective Martí. Ms. Escobar, I was wondering if we could have a few moments of your time.”
I knew it. The guys are in trouble.
My heart pumped pure fear for whatever Sergeant Mills was about to tell me.
“Are you feeling all right, Ms. Escobar? You don’t look so good,” the Detective Martí said to me with a Spanish accent. I could detect the concern in her voice.
For some strange reason, I was aware of how pretty she was. I could tell she worked out a lot from the size of her biceps and the way her breast sat up, all perky and stiff. From her tight stonewashed jeans up to her tight black T-shirt with the words Strike First written across the front, she looked less a cop and more a boxer.
Her short black hair, which was dashed with a couple of narrow frosted strips and was slightly longer on the left, accentuated her light-grey eyes as most of the frosted strips hung down the left side of her face. Most noticeably were her high cheekbones and evenly-small lips; giving her an exotic appeal and lending to her model-ish looks.
“Makita and Coco’s on the way, so we...”Cherish’s voice trailed off as she came up behind me.”Audi? What’s goin’ on?”
“Hey, Cherish,” Detective Martí waved, earning a curious look from both Sergeant Mills and myself.
“Vida? What are you doing here?” Cherish asked.
How the hell do they know each other?
“Just working, is all. Haven’t seen you at the salon much lately. Is everything okay?”Detective Vida inquired curiously.
From the expression on Cherish’s face, I got the impression that she and Detective Martí somehow knew each other.”Cherish? You know her?” I asked.
Cherish just glanced back at me then turned her eyes back to Vida. “Yeah, I’ve just been a little busy, is all. You know how that is,” Cherish said, answering Detective Martí but ignoring me. Then she frowned, eyeing Detective Martí suspiciously. “So you’re a cop?”
Detective Martí just shrugged as if it did not matter.
“You never told me that you were a cop,” Cherish said, her tone suddenly low and deep, not unlike that of someone who was suddenly angry after finding out their lover was keeping secrets from them.
And that is how I knew at that point that Cherish and Detective Martí were somehow intimately involved with each other, if not currently then definitely some time ago.
“Yes, I’m a cop,” Detective Martí revealed. Detective, actually. Which is not that big of a deal if that makes any sense. Besides, you never askedme what I did for a living, so...”
Cherish gave her an incredulous stare. “You mean to tell me that all this time you and I were...?” Her voice trailed off as if she thought better of saying something that she did not want me or Sergeant Mills to hear.
I was about to ask what the hell was going on when I felt faint all of a sudden.
“Seriously, Ms. Escobar,” Sergeant Mills said as she took me by the arm, her brow furrowed. “You really don’t look too good. And you’re sweating like crazy.”
Not sure why, I snatched away from her and started to head back inside the house. “I—I... I just...need...to lie down and—and—and...”The next thing I saw was the plush white carpet speeding towards my face as my legs buckled and I went face-first towards the floor.
“Oh, my God! Audi! Help me get her up, goddamn it! Audi!” I heard Cherish shouting.
Then everything went black.
Dre
We watched from eight houses down in the cloak of night as Diego’s crew loaded black duffel bags into the back of a black van.
Lyrical had come up with the brilliant idea of forcing Anika into calling her brother with false information about the police finding out that he had been involved in the shooting at club Déjà Vu and supposedly they were about to raid his stash house the moment they had enough evidence to obtain a search warrant.
Afterwards, we had bound Anika’s hands and feet and put her in the back of the Suburban with the plan to use her to bait Diego out of hiding if he was not at his stash house.
Which I was beginning to think was the case... Until I saw a 5’10”, medium-sized, long-haired Puerto Rican male walking out of the house with two huge, brown and black Rottweiler dogs preceding him, the thick chains around their necks digging into the flesh of Diego’s hands as the dogs nearly pulled him into the yard of the neighboring house as they sniffed the air.
Diego. Got yo bitch ass now, nigga.
“Should I put a bullet in this bitch now?”Devonte asked as he slapped the magazine into the bottom of the AK-47 and pointed it at a teary-eyed Anika.
“Naw, fam. We let this bitch be for now,” Lyrical said before I could respond. She seemed to be leading this whole escapade ever since we picked her up from her parents’ house. But the rest of us did not mind her taking point on this.
“Why we sparing this bitch?” Raheem asked.
“First off, nigga, I ain’t saying we ain’t gonna smoke the bitch,” Lyrical clarified.
“Yeah, that ain’t what she saying, fam,” I backed her as I suspected what her reason was for not wanting to shoot Anika just yet.
“What I am saying, though, is the last thing we want is these ma’fuckas knowing we here and give ‘em a chance to up strap on us,” she continued.”So leave this pissy-pants bitch in the back of the truck till we get back. Then we can put a bullet in this ho.”
“True that, fam,” Devonte nodded understandably.
“Ya’ll ready?” I asked, jacking the slide of the pump-action shotgun to chamber a round for emphasis.
“Wait, wait, hold up,” Devonte said as he fidgeted with the stereo. “Let me put on some motivation music.”
“Put on some what?” I asked.
“Ya’ll know,” he said. “Some shit to ride on these niggas to. I mean, we ain’t never popped no ma’fuckas before, so we gotta g”—”
“Nigga, we have popped niggas before,” Raheem said.
“Yeah, I know that, my nigga. I’m just saying that we ain’t never rode on no ma’fuckas like this, on a tip this serious, feel me? Yeah, we shot some ma’fuckas in the club or busted at some niggas we was beefin’ with at one time or another, but we ain’t never done no drive-by before, though. Just thought we could use some shit to ride on these niggas to in case we was nervous and shit, you know.”
“Nervous? Nigga, ain’t nobody...Man, Dre, get this nigga out the car, yo,” Lyrical said.
“Nigga...” I said harshly through gritted teeth. “Nigga, if you don’t put this ma’fuckin’ in gear and let’s get these niggas... Fuck is wrong with you, fam? You want these niggas to hear us coming or sumthin’?”
“Man, this nigga straight trippin’!” Lyrical said.
“Man, ya’ll niggas ready or what?”Raheem asked. “Or are we really tryin’ to play these niggas some tunes ‘fore we smoke ‘em?”
“Hold up, fam. A’ight, it’s ready,” Devonte said, his finger hovering over the PLAY button.
“Yo, is you stupid or sumthin’? How the fuck we gonna creep up on them niggas if they hear us coming?”Lyrical asked.
“My nigga, we gonna be out the whip already, blasting the face off everything that move ‘fore these niggas get a chance to hear us coming,” Devonte explained. “I ain’t gonna have it that loud anyway. Just so we can feel it, feel me?”