The Pink Panther Clique

by Wahida Clark

  “Jerry!” I screamed. I couldn’t see what was going on. Marcellus jumped on top of me, and I couldn’t see if my brother was hurt.

  As fast as it started, it stopped. “Let’s go! Let’s go! Now, now, now!” one of the masked men yelled. Then they ran out of the room. Marcellus got up, and I ran to Jerry’s side. He was hit in the arm, just a flesh wound. But the agent . . . He was riddled with bullets and lay there dead.

  They killed him.

  Chapter 10

  Milla

  * * *

  Flash! Flash!

  Paparazzi is out heavy.

  “Baby, you good?” KG asked. I nodded and smiled, looking up at him. Even going out to dinner was a big deal. At first, I played hard to get, but after spending some time with him, he grew on me. And it was definitely in a major way. It didn’t hurt that his mind was on point, and his money was getting longer by the day. He was worthy of Milla time, and I couldn’t front; I liked him. He was definitely my type of guy, and these last few months had been great. There was only one issue . . . I wasn’t used to this type of attention.

  Cameras literally followed us everywhere. Always stalking us. It was like: Damn, get a life! King-G was cool about it, reminding me that they were just doing their job. What really tripped me out was that I was on the cover of several gossip and entertainment magazines as KG’s “mystery woman.” Maybe a mystery woman to certain folks, but the hood’s most fabulous and elite circles knew all about me. I’d gotten many of them their first luxury cars and houses. So far, everything printed about me was either neutral or positive. But I knew how easily that could change.

  After dinner, KG and I headed back to his place. I liked his home more than mine. He lived in Jamaica Estates, but what I really didn’t understand was how he maintained the lifestyle he had prior to blowing up in the hip-hop world. He’d been living here for years. He said he always invested in real estate and other things since he was about eighteen. Said his mother and father taught him. I thought that was dope.

  I took my shoes off and plopped down on the couch.

  “Why are you getting comfortable?” he asked.

  “What you mean?” I said, sitting up, on alert.

  “I’m hungry. Your man wants to eat.”

  “Hungry? We just left the restaurant. You just ate.”

  “Who said I was hungry for food?” He smiled, and then I realized what his nasty ass was saying. I tossed a pillow at him.

  “Mmmm,” he moaned. I burst out laughing, and then got comfortable again on the couch. He took his shirt off, revealing nothing but perfectly cut muscles and a physique like he just did ten years up north. The only parts of his skin that weren’t caramel were the parts that were covered in tattoos. I purposely did not look at him long, and he purposely stood directly in front of me. “I’ll be upstairs,” he said. That nigga knew exactly what he was doing to me. I wasn’t going up there. Hell, no. I still hadn’t had sex with him, and fortunately, he wasn’t pushing the issue. But it was getting harder and harder not to give in. I refused to have sex with any man, unless I knew he was going to be my husband. I made some bad choices in the past, and wisdom had definitely found its way into my brain.

  The following morning I didn’t want to get out of bed, but I had to get to the office. I walked into work refreshed and wide-eyed. King-G had given me a complete body rub last night. That man! I felt good. Too good. He seemed almost too good to be true. As soon as I sat down at my desk, my boss called me to meet him in his office. What the hell does he want? He was smiling from ear to ear when I sat down in front of him.

  “Milla, Milla, Milla. What can I say? You have not only impressed me, but also all the higher-ups. The level of business you are bringing in has really done this bank well. I just wanted to commend you.”

  “Thank you!” I simply said. There was more to this meeting, and I felt it. So when this young blond chick walked in to join us, I knew something was up.

  “This is Britt Arat. She’s been assigned as your assistant.”

  “Hello, Britt. How are you?” I said, smiling. We gripped hands and shook softly.

  “Hi!” she said. No other words. Okay! I can see that I’m not going to like this bitch. Her jittery handshake and her reluctance to look me in the eyes had me on high alert. My daddy taught me that.

  “I just have one question, Mr. Darding,” I said, taking my seat again. “I already have an assistant. Not that I have anything against Britt, but is there an issue with Gina?”

  “No, not at all. This move came from above me. They said it was mandatory.”

  “I see.” I wrapped that meeting up as fast as I could. There was really nothing else to talk about. One of the many talents I was blessed with was a good third eye. I could see bullshit a mile away, and something wasn’t right with this Britt Arat chick. I’m just sayin’, two black chicks, Gina and I, were doing the biggest numbers in our division, and I felt like Britt was their way of breaking us up.

  The next day, Britt started working with me. I walked over to her desk and asked her to meet me in my office. I had to train her on the way I liked things.

  “Hi, Brit,” I said, trying this again. “Are you ready to get started?”

  “Pretty much,” she said in a superdry tone. So dry, I wanted to ask her if the can of Diet Coke on her desk was full of sand.

  “Okay, sweetheart, let me be very straight with you. You don’t seem happy to be here. And that’s okay. Because we can walk over to Mr. Darding’s office and tell him you’d like to be transferred. Because I don’t want anybody in my presence who really doesn’t want to be there.” My tone was direct and condescending.

  “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. It’s just that, well . . . I liked my old job, and they moved me, saying that if I wanted to stay with this bank, then I didn’t have a choice. So I was a little bit frustrated. I do apologize.”

  “Well, at least now I understand. It’s all good. Loosen up a li’l bit. I’m cool and laid-back. You’ll love working for me. But first things first . . . Every morning I have to have a fresh cup of black coffee on my desk. Two sugars.”

  “Got it!” she said, running off to fetch that coffee. When she came back, she set it on my desk and just stood there. I looked up at her.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She was still standing there looking curious.

  “What?” I said, smiling. “Go ahead, ask me.”

  “I’m sorry.” She giggled. “It’s just . . . do you really date King-G?” Here we go. I chuckled.

  “In a way. We’re close friends.”

  “Just friends?” she asked.

  “Yeah, just friends? That’s it?” I heard a masculine voice ask.

  The two of us looked up and there was King-G, standing in my office with a bouquet of roses.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, smiling. I looked outside my office and the entire company was at a standstill, staring at us.

  “Can you, ummm, excuse us for a minute, Britt?”

  “Sure, sure,” she said, nodding. And then she left, almost tripping over her own feet.

  He walked behind my desk and stood next to me. Then he bent down and kissed my cheek. My entire body reacted. He pulled something out of his pocket and set it down on my desk. Then he sat in the chair in front of me. I opened it. It was a check for $1 million. I looked at it, then at him.

  “I need your help,” he said.

  “What do you want me to do with this?” I asked.

  “I want to invest. Mutual funds, IRAs, stocks, bonds, futures, real estate, you name it. Handle it for me.”

  “King, this is a lot of money. I don’t think—”

  “Listen to me. This music shit is dope. I love what I do, but it may not last. The next big thing could come along tomorrow. My main concern is securing our future.”

  Did he just say “our” future? This was a bit much. I looked at the check, and then up at him.

  “You’re really serio
us, I see.”

  “As a crackhead on a mission.”

  “Very funny. But seriously, this is a lot of money to risk.”

  “I know. But I also know without risk, there is no reward. I’ll see you when get off.” And then he left.

  Chapter 11

  Sunny-SolÉ

  * * *

  Judge Brenda Doom disappeared. I heard through the grapevine that she’d been arrested, but quickly released and placed on house arrest. But where was the exoneration for my husband? Judge Doom’s case was sealed, and her identity was hidden. Nobody knew that it was her. But I did. And I planned on letting the world know about it.

  First and foremost, I was a woman of my word. I had to meet with Governor Wyzask and give him the final copy of the recording. He’d held up his end of the bargain and assisted me with getting Judge Brenda Doom to admit her wrongs. And my husband had finally been transferred. His pardon was pending. That meant a lot to me because I was doing all of this for my king.

  We were meeting in a neutral place. At Niagara Falls in Canada. In case he tried something funny, I didn’t want to be in a place where the United States had any jurisdiction. Right before I reached the border, my phone rang.

  “Yeah,” I said as I answered crudely.

  “Look, I’m right at the border, but I just got a call from my office that if I cross in Canada while on official governing duty, I’ll have to bring my security detail and explain why I’m spending taxpayers’ money for a nonofficial trip. There’s just too much red tape. We can meet right at the border.” That muthafucka didn’t care about taxpayers’ money when he was stealing it. Whatever!

  “All right, fine. Let’s just get this over with. Where do you want to meet?”

  “There’s a park. It’s Niagara Falls Community Park, actually, and it will come up in your navigation. How far away from the border are you?” he asked.

  “Just about forty minutes.”

  “Do you wanna grab a bite to eat?”

  “I’ll see you there.” I ended the call. I wasn’t his friend, and I didn’t want to have small talk with him. I was on a mission. And I wanted to get this done and over with. I wasn’t going to chitchat with him over the phone. I floored my Maserati GranTurismo so I could get there just a bit sooner than expected. I was only about five minutes away, but I wanted to scope out the area before I got out of my car. You could never trust a man like Wyzask.

  I couldn’t miss the long, black, wool trench coat, leather gloves, and Stacy Adams shoes. The energy of a nervous man could be detected from a mile away. Even the birds and squirrels in the park seemed to sniff at him. Then they’d run off from the nasty odor of a foul soul. He stood when he saw me. All smiles. Phony ass. Who smiled when their life was interrupted the way I interrupted his? I didn’t bother to smile back. This was business . . . the business of justice.

  “Here you go,” I said, passing him the flash drive.

  “How do I know this is the only copy?”

  “You don’t. You do have my word, though. And I swear on my life, this is it. I want this to be over. Now, how long will it take for the commutation of my husband’s state sentence to go through?” That smile on his face instantly vanished.

  “It’s bad enough you blackmailed me. What I did was wrong, but you were still wrong for selling counterfeit money. You didn’t even sell it to me directly. I could’ve not done what you asked.”

  “I don’t have anything else to say. Our business is done. Just make sure when that pardon comes across your desk, you sign it swiftly.”

  “I’m telling you, Mrs. Solé, if you try to cross me, I’ll tell the authorities about your very illegal businesses and the way you blackmailed me.”

  “And it will be my word against yours. You can’t prove it.”

  “And what makes you think that anybody would believe you?” he said, waving the flash-drive. Then he took two steps backward, away from me. By the time I realized what was happening I could only hope that it wasn’t too late. I should have known that he was up to no good when he backed out of meeting up in Canada. Damn it! The Feds had us surrounded. I couldn’t see them, but I knew they were there. I hoped they didn’t realize that I had caught on to what was going down. I wasn’t the type of chick to just lie down and die. I was only a few feet away from my car. If I could get in the car and drive just a few miles up, I could cross into Canada, and they would have no jurisdiction over me.

  “They might not. But I think we’re both better than this. You need to be able to go and live your life, and I’ll live mine. We can put this behind us, don’t you think?” Before he could answer me, I spotted a woman walking her dog.

  “Excuse me, ma’am, but what a coincidence. I have the same dog. He’s a Teacup Yorkie. He’s in the car. Let me go grab him,” I said. Then I looked at the governor. “Let me allow my dog to take a quick piss, and then we can go our separate ways.” I jogged to my car, and that’s when I saw them. They all came out of nowhere. A woman who pretended to be jogging, suddenly spoke into her wrist and began chasing me. A man who pretended to be watching his kids on the swing suddenly started running in my direction as well. There was another one, but I really didn’t get a chance to see where the hell he’d come from.

  I hit the automatic start on my car and jumped in. Flooring it, I took off for the crossing that would take me straight into Canada. I had to make this entire journey worth it. I was gonna get my husband out of prison or die trying. I was his ride or die. His one and only queen. I didn’t come this far to get caught up.

  The Canadian border was just up ahead of me. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw a sea of red lights. They were behind me, but not right up on me. There had to be at least twenty police cars and FBI vehicles chasing me. I wasn’t supposed to be the one running. I made a quick maneuver to switch lanes and I swear it felt like my car was on two wheels. There was no turning back now. It was do or die at this point. I pulled up to the border inspector.

  “Identification please. Your passport.” I handed it to him and looked in the rearview mirror once more. They were gaining. The man was almost done processing me, and then I heard his radio come alive. He looked at me and spoke back into the radio.

  “Is there a problem?” I asked.

  “Ma’am, you need to exit the vehicle.”

  “For what?”

  “You need to exit the vehicle.” I knew there couldn’t be a warrant for my arrest just that fast. Technically, I didn’t know who was really chasing me. So I had an excuse to run.

  “Never mind!” I threw the car in reverse and backed up. I front ended the car behind me. “Get out of my way!” I screamed out of the window. The car moved just enough for me to get out of line. I jumped the divider in the middle of the eight-lane highway and started going in the direction toward home. I drove right past all the police who were just pulling up to the border station. I had to think fast. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, an entourage of police hit the highway. A helicopter seemed to manifest out of thin air. It was an FBI helicopter. Shit! My whip might have been able to do a lot of things, but outrunning a helicopter wasn’t one of them.

  I slowed the car and pulled over. I got out, raised my hands in the air, and dropped to my knees. It was over.

  The queen was going down!

  Chapter 12

  Eshe

  * * *

  Before I could even wrap my mind around what was happening, I heard the sirens in the background.

  “Come on. Let’s get the fuck out of here, Boss Lady!” Marcellus said.

  “No! The hallways are full of people.”

  “But nobody knows we’re here. We can go.”

  “I’m not going on the run. You all can leave if you want. It’s your choice. But I’m not because—”

  The police arrived at our hotel suite door. Guns were drawn and cameras were rolling. There was a dead man riddled with bullet holes and handcuffed to the bed. Jerry was injured, and Marcellus was trying to tell the police tha
t we were ambushed. It still didn’t explain the dead man being handcuffed to the bed. This was a disaster. I raised my hands to show that I was unarmed and willing to surrender. Not to any crime, of course, but just showing good cause so I wouldn’t get my head blown off.

  We were all arrested and taken to the precinct. We hadn’t been charged with anything . . . yet, but I wanted to make sure that we had the proper legal representation as we tackled what would be the biggest fight of our lives. I was taken into the interrogation room alone, and my brothers were taken individually as well.

  “Ms. Aisha Haller, right? That’s your name? But you go by Eshe?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Why does that matter?”

  “Are you going to answer the question?” he asked.

  “I’m twenty-five.”

  “Just twenty-five, huh? That’s pretty young to be worth what . . . almost ten million?”

  “Something like that.” The look of disgust on his face was enough to scare me, and I didn’t scare easily. Something about a young black bitch with money frightened the hell out of people. Yeah, I was on my Cleopatra shit hard, and this white boy was definitely no Caesar.

  “What were you doing at the hotel?”

  “You just read to me my accolades, my accomplishments, right? So why do you think I would be stupid enough to sit here and talk to you without my attorney, when no matter what I say, you are looking for something to use against me.”

  “You think you’re smart, Ms. Haller, but you’re not. We’re the smart guys. We are the ones who always have the last word.”

  “Whatever makes your dick hard, sir.”

  “Now, please explain to me why this man was cuffed to the bed and why he is dead.”

  “For the tenth time, I am telling you, I am not going to talk to you without my attorney. And I don’t know why he’s dead.”