Cold Flash

by Carrie H. Johnson

  I nodded my head yes. Angelo Bonanno, hit man for the Cosa Nostra. I testified in his son’s murder case.

  “Please, I am not here to hurt you in any way. In fact, I believe we can help each other. Can we give you a lift perhaps?”

  No way was I getting in the car. “How about we walk?”

  Angelo Bonanno got out of the car. I backed up a few steps.

  “I imagine you think I’m here about my son’s case. I’m not.”

  I didn’t say anything. My nerves were shot. He started walking. I fell in beside him.

  He reached in his pocket. I tensed. He came out with a picture.

  “This is my granddaughter. She’s fifteen years old. She’s been missing for a couple of weeks now. I believe she is being held at the Blumberg housing projects by the gang who call themselves Berg Nation.”

  I glanced at the picture and kept walking.

  “Please, Miss Mabley.” He stopped walking and touched my arm to do the same. I stopped. “Please look at the picture. I know what I am, and I know you know what I am. My granddaughter has no part in the life her father and I are in. She and her mother live apart, on their own.”

  I took the picture from him. I stared at it, remembering the faces of the two young girls who were being brought up the stairs to Ward Griffin’s place when Calvin and I were going down with Karin. One of them was the girl in the picture.

  “Why are you showing this to me?”

  “I have been watching the projects and the people in them. I know that they are dealing heroin out of that place. I know they are responsible for several deaths, including Calvin Bernard’s.”

  He said Calvin’s name as though he had a closer connection than I would like to imagine.

  “You seem surprised. Bernard was a kind of friend, that’s all I will say about that. I was working with him to disrupt the flow of heroin into the city.”

  He waited for me to respond. I didn’t.

  “This is the man who killed Calvin. We believe he is also the man who runs Berg Nation. It seems you are well acquainted with him, as is your son.”

  The picture he gave me was not of Ward Griffin or BJ. It was Elijah.

  “You don’t seem surprised.”

  “And how do you know all this?”

  “Like I said, we’ve been watching.”

  “Mr. Bonanno.”

  “Angelo, please.”

  “If you know your granddaughter is at Blumberg and you know the man who is running the show there, why don’t you just go in there and get her out?”

  We walked some more, with his car following.

  “I think you know the answer to that question. Things aren’t like the old days, and I’m too old to even begin to stir the pot and ignite a war between the young men of Berg Nation and my family. I love my granddaughter, and I will do whatever it takes to get her out of there, but I do not want a bloodbath that might end up getting her and a lot of others killed.”

  I held out the pictures to him.

  “Keep them.” His car pulled up to where we stood. The fat man got out and opened the back door for him. He stepped off the curb to get in. “I hope to hear from you.”

  Elijah’s blubbering about how sorry he was for shooting BJ played and replayed in my head. I folded the pictures and stuck them in my waistband and walked the rest of the two blocks to the house. Laughton had the television news on.

  “You are serious about this triathlon, aren’t you?”

  “Did Elijah come back?”

  “No, he’s not here.”

  I ran down my conversation with Bonanno to Laughton. When I finished, we sat for a while, listening to the six-thirty newscast.

  “Getting in the middle of the gangs and the crime family is not a good idea.”

  “I have to make this right, Laughton. Elijah is out there free, because I thought he was a victim. If he is who Bonanno says he is, he’s the worst kind of ruthless, and I’m scared to death of what he’ll do to get what he wants.”

  “We thought he was a victim and we have to make it right.”

  I settled on the couch in the crux of his arm. “We know he’s looking for the heroin, and if he doesn’t find it, he’ll probably have to answer to the Mexicans. He’s about out of options. Desperate. So, we dangle the goods again and find out if he is who Bonanno says he is.”

  I showered and dressed and took Laughton to the hotel to do the same. Then we made the call. Elijah answered on the first ring.

  “I’m so glad you called, Miss Mabley. I am so sorry things have turned out the way they have. I had no intention of hurting you or Travis or anyone else in your family. Mine was a simple task of getting to Mr. Bernard and his compadre, BJ.”

  I shuddered at the reality of what was happening. “You killed Calvin.”

  “He hijacked my junk and wouldn’t give it up.”

  “And Kenyetta and Sam?”

  “Circumstance. Kenyetta found her long-lost sibling, a heroin addict. She tracked her to one of the apartments here. Her and Sam. Wrong place, wrong time. They saw and heard some things I couldn’t let them leave with. Thing is, everybody’s getting into heroin again, so it is so easy to convince people that someone is a user. If it’s any comfort, they didn’t suffer at all. They just went to sleep.”

  I squeezed out every ounce of strength I had to keep from screaming out the agony that clobbered my gut. Laughton squeezed my hand. I took a breath.

  “So you killed Calvin for the shipment he intercepted? So he’s dead, and you still don’t have it.”

  “Ah, but you do, and I think you are willing to make an exchange of some kind so that we all come out of this in a good way.”

  “Did you kill your brother too?”

  “Ward was a little slow, but good at carrying out orders, being the face of Berg Nation so I could operate under the radar and keep things going. There’s millions to be made working with the Mexicans. Ward couldn’t handle prison, so he killed himself.” He let his words sink in before continuing. “So how is this going to work?”

  “You have a young white girl there who I want to take out.”

  “I have several young white girls. Which one?”

  “I’ll know her when I see her.”

  “Ah, so you want to come to the kingdom. Fine. You bring the product and we can make an exchange.”

  “I’ll come, but I want the girls brought outside. We can make the exchange outside.”

  “So the police can make a bust? I don’t think so. Only under the cover of night, and you come alone. And Miss Mabley, you should know, I have eyes everywhere in Blumberg. It’s a shame they’re going to destroy this place, means I’ll have to find another base of operation. Maybe it’ll be in your neck of the city.”

  I hung up, feeling like I had crawled through a sewer pipe.

  CHAPTER 29

  Thousands of police officers from across the country attended Zoila’s funeral at the Cathedral Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul, the largest Catholic church in the city. Her three sons, one daughter, and husband of thirty years sat in the front pew, accepting visitors as they passed to view the poster-sized portrait of Zoila in full police uniform, displayed next to a closed casket.

  Sounds of sniffles, shushing of children, cracking of wooden pews adjusting to the weight of mourners followed her oldest granddaughter to the lectern.

  “Nana was a terrible cook, but that didn’t stop her from giving us cooking lessons. She hated girly things like tea parties and playing with dolls, but that didn’t stop her from having a tea party for me and five of my ten-year-old friends, or coaching me through being a model at an American Girl Fashion Show. The only black model in the show. Nana said you have to step out of your comfort zone now and again to grow. I feel the growth coming on, Nana.”

  Santiago, Zoila’s partner, joined us at our table at the repast. “She was a good cop and a great person,” he said. “It’s hard to accept that she went out that way. It was an accident. She swerved to miss hi
tting a dog in the road and lost control. A damn dog.”

  I was relieved to know Zoila’s passing was an accident. Still, Zoila’s was the fourth funeral I had attended in as many weeks. It made me consider the sense and nonsense of my life. I watched Zoila’s family interacting, toddlers running around laughing and playing, babies being passed from one to another, adults hugging, kissing, laughing, and at the helm, her husband, invisibly conducting with enduring grace.

  When I got home, the house was quiet except for the twins, who were in the den playing the game of Life, my and Travis’s old-time favorite, and watching television. Nareece was not in the kitchen. I went upstairs to change and knocked on her door in passing. When she didn’t answer, I cracked the door and called her name at the same time. She was standing in front of the mirror putting makeup on. I went in and plopped down on her bed.

  “You got a hot date or something?”

  “Just tired of looking tired, is all.”

  “You look fine. As beautiful as ever.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’d say you’re a little biased.” She stopped what she was doing and sat with me on the bed. “I’m sorry about your police friend.”

  “She was a good cop. And that’s about the thousandth time that’s been said today.”

  Nareece picked at a scab on one of her fingers.

  “What’s going on, Reece?”

  She pulled the crusty layer away from her skin, making it bleed.

  “I know that guy BJ is dead, but I’m still freaked out about the whole thing. I want to know that it’s over and there’s no worries about anything else like that happening. I mean, Elijah’s gone now, and I know there’s something going on with him, but I also know you’re not going to share anything with me even if there is.”

  “It’s done. You don’t have to worry about any of that. Everything is fine.” It will be after tonight, I thought. I lifted her chin so she looked me in the eye. “Trust me.”

  After I changed clothes, I went to the kitchen and made a sandwich. I didn’t eat anything at the repast and my stomach was protesting the neglect. Nareece came in the kitchen as I was slapping together a mayo-and-chicken sandwich.

  “Travis been around?” I asked through a mouthful of sandwich.

  “He left this morning around eleven. Said he was going to help Elijah move some of his stuff from his brother’s place into a new apartment.”

  I stopped chewing. Pulled my phone from my hip and called Travis. I heard the faint ring of his phone. Nareece went into the dining room and came back with Travis’s phone still ringing. “I know that boy’s going to be ticked off when he realizes he forgot . . .”

  That’s all I heard before I was out the door. I called Elijah as soon as I got in the car.

  “Not to worry, Miss Mabley. Travis is on his way home. He doesn’t know anything about what is going on. He was helping me pack up the moving truck. Like I said, we have to find a new location. But I wanted you to know how easy it would be for me. Reassurance that our little exchange will go off without any problems. Until tonight.”

  I pulled over into the breakdown lane on I-76, leaned out the door, and puked.

  Travis called as I pulled into a parking space at the Rittenhouse. It was Saturday and he had the program at Calvin’s center to run.

  “Elijah seems really broken up about his brother committing suicide. I guess it doesn’t matter how bad somebody is, if he’s your blood, you love him anyway,” Travis said.

  I closed my eyes against his words.

  He had no idea I had skirted the law for his supposed-to-be friend, who killed Travis’s best friend and his girlfriend; who had everything to do with almost killing his niece, and who killed Calvin. I considered that if I told him what was going on, he would go off and confront Elijah and get himself killed. Then I remembered that he is my son. I raised him.

  “Travis, I know we should be talking face-to-face right now, but there’s no time. I need you to listen good to what I’m about to tell you.” And I ran down to him all there was to tell about Elijah and his brother. When I finished, there was silence on the other end.

  “Why are you just telling me this now, Ma? What do I have to do or how old do I have to get . . . ?”

  “Travis, I didn’t find out for sure about Elijah until this morning. Then Nareece told me you went to help him move or something. This is our first conversation today.” I let a few seconds pass for him to calm down. “Travis, I need you to stay there with your aunt and the girls. You know where the gun is and you know how to use it. I’ll call you when it’s done.”

  “When what’s done?”

  “I’ll tell you the whole long story when I get home. Right now I gotta go.”

  “Laughton with you?”

  “He is.”

  “He best make sure he brings you home.”

  “For sure.”

  When I got to Laughton’s room, Hamp was there and two other men, Lloyd and Sully, who worked for Calvin. I never paid much attention to all the men who worked for Calvin, except for BJ. The others were bodies that moved around when and where Calvin told them to move. Nondescript. Now here these two were willing to put their lives on the line for the sake of the young men and women at the center, who Elijah threatened with Berg Nation and the drugs he intended to distribute in their neighborhoods. They swore Calvin’s legacy would prevail.

  “This was all because of my gambling and you trying to help me figure out how I could pay a debt I was stupid enough to make. Now a lot of people have died. I know I’m not responsible for their deaths, but somehow I feel like their deaths are responsible for my life.”

  “Beautiful words, Hamp,” I said and gave him a hug. “I didn’t know you had them in you.”

  “There’s much you don’t know about old Hampton Dangervil.” His laugh, or rather cackle, sounded like Dulcey was in the room. I quelled him with a look. “I know, we’ve been together too long.” We laughed.

  “You know we’re going to have to stop meeting like this,” Laughton joked when we were in the car alone, driving to Blumberg. “For seventeen years we did our job, messed around a little, loved a lot. It was all good. It was all quiet. Then all hell breaks loose and we’re operating in these life-and-death situations. It’s crazy.”

  “I’m thinking about quitting and moving out of the city. So what if we get rid of Elijah? If not him, someone else will come looking for revenge some kind of way. That’s not something I want to stay on my brain all the time, wondering if my family is safe.”

  “I hear you, but running away never solves anything.”

  “I won’t be running away. I’m saying I’m worried about my family.”

  “How about we pack everybody up and move somewhere?”

  I jerked my head sideways to look at him. “We’re about to walk into the lion’s den and you’re talking mess like that.”

  Laughton stayed silent.

  I turned front again. From the corner of my eye, I saw him look at me. “Maybe we might can do just that,” I said.

  Blumberg was much different than when I had been there a month ago. The buildings were empty, the residents relocated. The news talked about the city’s plans to gut the low-rise buildings and implode the two towers to reconstruct new public housing, but I had been ignorant of the timeline. And this was not a side of town I frequented. Berg Nation members seemed the only inhabitants, unauthorized as they were.

  Driving through it felt like a scene from The Walking Dead, with shadows moving in front and behind us as we passed. There were no lights except from the full moon that hung over the towers, and the flickering of what I figured was a flashlight, here and there. Rap music played in the vicinity.

  When we turned the corner on Sharswood Street and pulled to the curb of one of the towers, Elijah was out in front with five other men. The music was louder.

  He bent down so he could look in my window and nodded at Laughton.

  “I don’t see the girl
s,” I said.

  He looked back and waved toward the men. One went into the building and came out with a young white girl who stumbled forward as though under a spell. I recognized her as Bonanno’s granddaughter.

  “Let her get in the car.”

  “Ah, Miss Mabley. That would be too easy for your man there to take off with the little lily and leave me with nothing.” He opened my door. “Why don’t you get out and be with me, and then the girl can get in the car. After that, you can give me the package, and I will let you get in the car and go home.”

  He patted me down for a weapon, then motioned for his men to bring the girl forward. I opened the back door and ushered her inside. She was half-clothed, dirty, emaciated, and loaded. When she was in the car, Laughton pulled from the curb. Elijah grabbed my arm.

  “He’s taking her out. He’ll be back with the package.”

  Elijah kept ahold of my arm and pulled me with him so that he stood with his back against the building and me in front of him, rap music sailing over the breeze.

  I prayed Sully, Lloyd, Hamp, and whoever else they had with them had done their jobs, as I leaned back and rammed Elijah with an elbow to the jaw that wrenched him sideways, followed by a high kick that bounced his head off the brick wall. I ducked around the side of the building as shots were fired. Laughton was there waiting in the car. I grabbed for the door handle but couldn’t reach it, as Elijah grabbed me around the waist and pulled me to the ground.

  Laughton was out of the car pointing his gun at us. Elijah had a gun to my head.

  Laughton fired. Elijah fell.

  I got in the car and Laughton drove out of the complex onto Jefferson and turned down a side street, pulled over and parked. We could hear the echo of gunfire.

  Bonanno’s gray coupe pulled in behind us. I got out and helped the girl out of the backseat. Mr. Bonanno got out of his car and approached me. I released his granddaughter and got back in the car. Laughton drove off.

  CHAPTER 30