R.I.C.O.

by C. J. Hudson

  “Yes, sir, I remember it. Why?”

  “Because the girl that lives there is the one who’s giving us the lead.”

  “Say no more, Cap. I’m on it.”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear. And hurry up. This could be the break we need to bring that bastard down. The desk sergeant has the address. I told her to give it to you.”

  Hoping to crack the case, Little flew out the door and headed for his vehicle. He may not have been able to stop his deceased partner from making a deadly mistake, but he would like nothing more than to take down the scumbag that was responsible for his death. Even though Warren was a borderline racist, he was still Little’s partner, so he had to try to make his death an honorable one.

  * * *

  Little picked up his phone, glanced at the screen, and tossed it back on the seat. He smirked and shook his head, knowing that he would have to hear his wife’s mouth when he got home. He was supposed to take her to the movies, but he had to follow up on this lead. Surely, she wouldn’t be in such a pissy mood when he told her why he wasn’t able to make it. Or, at least, he hoped she wouldn’t. If Little were being totally honest with himself, he would admit that his wife had been very understanding of his job as a detective, and it made him feel bad that he couldn’t give her the time she deserved. Tracy was a good woman, but if he didn’t start spending some quality time with her, he would turn her into a bad one. He kept that in mind as he turned on Flora’s street. His cell phone buzzed, letting him know that he had a text message coming through. He didn’t even have to look at it to know that it was Tracy wanting to know where he was. For shits and giggles, he decided to look at it anyway.

  Harold, where the fuck are you?’ I know damn well you ain’t gonna cancel on me again!

  Harold sighed deeply. If he had had more time, he would have texted her back and let her know what was going on, but he was fast approaching Flora’s place. He skidded to a stop in front of her house, grabbed his phone, put it in his pocket, and got out of his car. Right away, something felt off to him. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something just didn’t feel right. Carefully, he walked up the steps and up to the door. He raised his hand to ring the doorbell but stopped when he noticed that the door was slightly open. His gut was telling him to take his gun out, so he listened. The door creaked as Little pushed it open.

  “Hello?” he said as he continued to walk in. A chill snaked up his spine when he realized how dark it was inside.

  “Ms. Matthews? Are you in here?”

  Little eased through the foyer and into the living room area. As soon as he turned the corner, he saw Flora’s silhouette.

  Little held his gun tightly in his right hand while searching for the light switch on the wall with his left. When he finally found it and flipped it on, he wished he hadn’t.

  “Oh my God,” he mumbled softly. Seeing her silhouette in the dark was one thing. But seeing her actual body in the full light was something altogether different. Little shook his head sadly as he stared down at Flora’s bloody corpse. Her eyes were wide open, but the life in them had long since been extinguished. Dried streaks of blood stained her face. A large hole rested in the center of her head.

  Little pulled out his cell phone to call it in but never got the chance. No sooner had he dialed the first number, a heavy blow to the back of his head knocked him out cold.

  Chapter 11

  The affluent, upscale suburb that Darnell’s residence was located in housed some of the city’s most elite personalities. Plastic surgeons, high-powered attorneys, business owners, and corporate CEOs all had elegant, pricy homes in the area. Like many drug dealers, Darnell sold most of his dope in the inner-city neighborhoods and purchased homes far away from there. But moving out of the hood did not make him a sellout. Over the years, Darnell had anonymously donated to various charities that benefited the inner city. Darnell knew where he came from, and he wasn’t ashamed of it. The lessons he’d learned as a teenager shaped him into the man he was today. However, there was a major difference in remembering where you came from and wanting to remain there.

  When Darnell first purchased the land, he took inventory of how all the other houses in the area looked. Had he wanted to, he could have easily had a home built that would have put the surrounding houses to shame. But Darnell, doing the smart thing, had something constructed that was more along the lines of the other homes. The front yard was immaculate. The lawn was neatly manicured, and every blade of grass was the same shade of dark green. The circular driveway consisted of a smooth concrete pavement that was void of any cracks or unevenness. The best feature about the driveway, however, was that it was heated. This ensured that the driveway wouldn’t turn into an ice sheet even when it snowed, or the temperature dropped below freezing. Halfway around the driveway, it veered off to the garage. Inside of the garage was a door that connected to the basement. The basement was where he usually entertained his guests.

  Darnell’s backyard was just as nice as the front. The grass was evenly cut and was surrounded by a cement patio where a huge barbecue grill sat. On rare occasions when he did have some free time, Darnell would call up Turiq and sometimes OG Hann to see if they wanted to have a few drinks or play a few games of dominoes while something was cooking on the grill. OG Hann was the only one of his lieutenants that he’d ever allowed at his house. Trey talked too much for his own good, and Darnell didn’t trust him to keep his mouth closed. Being in the position that he was in, Darnell had quite a few enemies. The last thing he wanted was to wake up in the middle of the night with a gun pointed at him. Or worse yet, one pointed at Sunny.

  Blue had too much of an attitude problem for Darnell to deal with in a social setting. The fact that he was the shortest person in the room 95 percent of the time put a chip on his shoulder the size of Ohio. Darnell didn’t need or want that type of negative energy around him. Damon? Well, Darnell just didn’t trust Damon. On countless occasions, he’d thought about replacing him, but for some reason that not even Darnell could explain, he kept him around. As grimy as Damon was, there was something about him that made Darnell want to see him succeed. But that didn’t mean that he trusted him enough to invite him to his home.

  Most of the time, it would be Darnell sitting on his patio thinking of power moves he needed to make, or him, Turiq, or OG Hann, bragging about who was better at dominoes. But today, something different was happening. The long-overdue party for Sunny was in full swing. It was catered by one of the finest barbecue places in Cleveland. It wasn’t as large as Hot Sauce Williams or B&M, but Murphy’s Ribs and Wings could run circles around those places when it came to taste. The only negative aspect was the threat of rain.

  Large, dark clouds hovered in the sky, making it a less-than-ideal day to be throwing a barbecue. The meteorologist had promised everyone that it would be nice and sunny, but God had other ideas. Darnell had wanted to cancel the cookout and have it another day, but Sunny wasn’t having it. She’d been waiting on this for a long time and wasn’t about to let the slight threat of rain ruin it for her. Plus, this was the day that her father had promised to buy her a car, and she wanted everyone in attendance to see it, especially her new friend Jazmine. Since that night at her place, Jazmine and Sunny had become quite the pair. Their fathers were shocked when the two girls started hanging out and going shopping together, but they were also pleased. Darnell and Turiq had the same way of thinking. Neither of them wanted their kids to grow up wanting for anything. White America wasn’t going to hold them back and deprive them of anything just because they were Black women. Their fathers were going to see to that.

  “Can you believe this shit?” Darnell asked Turiq. “They’re over there shootin’ the shit like they been best friends all they damn lives.”

  Turiq shrugged and took a sip from his Cognac. “That’s what we wanted to happen, right?”

  “Indeed. And now it begins,” Darnell declared.

  The two of them held up their glasses and cli
cked them together. Turiq nodded his head in agreement. Although Darnell had broached the subject of taking over his drug empire to Sunny, he had yet to bring it up to Turiq. That could wait. In the coming weeks, he would sit Sunny down and begin to school her on the ins and outs of the drug game. Both fathers were happy that their daughters had settled their beef. They knew that loyalty and trust had to be present for them to prosper in the drug game. They also knew that although many drug dealers didn’t place much stock in friendship, Darnell and Turiq both knew that being friends with your friends was an underrated aspect of being in the game. If you’re not friends with someone, there was no way in the world you would ever be loyal to them, let alone trust them.

  “My dude, I’m not gon’ lie, though. I was surprised as hell to see the two of them laughing and joking around and shit. I just knew when I got home, Jazmine would be choking your daughter.” Darnell cut his eyes toward his friend.

  “Or Sunny would be choking your daughter.”

  “Nah, playa. My daughter’s a beast.”

  “And you think mine’s not? Nigga, she learned from the best,” Darnell said, throwing playful jabs at Turiq.

  “A’ight, my nigga. Let’s just say we both got beasts for daughters.” The two friends laughed as they clicked glasses again.

  “So, what’s good with that nigga you caught trying to slide outta ya’ crib?”

  “I got Damon taking care of it.”

  Turiq raised an eyebrow. He knew what type of goon Damon was and wondered if his friend was going overboard in his attempt to send the young man a message.

  “Damon? You sure you wanna do that, bro? You know how savage that muthafucka is.”

  “Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, though. I told him to just rough up ol’ boy a little bit, not put him in the dirt.” Darnell tossed back the last remnants of his drink. Not thirty seconds later, Turiq did the same.

  “Time for a refill, bro,” Turiq said, handing his glass to Darnell. Darnell looked at the glass and then back at Turiq.

  “Nigga, what the fuck wrong with yo’ legs?”

  “The same thing that be wrong with yo’ legs when you come to my house,” Turiq said, laughing.

  “Yeah, a’ight, nigga. I’ma bring back yo’ ass a glass of water, nigga,” Darnell said, walking back into the house. He then made his way over to a shelf with several different liquor bottles on it and grabbed a bottle of Rémy Martin. After refilling both glasses, Darnell held his nose down to one of the drinks and took a long sniff. He smiled and nodded his head at the potent aroma. He was just getting ready to turn and go back outside when he felt something cold and hard press up against the back of his head.

  “Your next move is your last move. Turn around slowly, and don’t make any sudden moves,” a sweet, silky voice said from behind him.

  With two glasses of Cognac in his hand, Darnell was at a distinct disadvantage, so he had no choice but to do as he was told. He slowly turned around and stared directly into the barrel of a pistol.

  “I guess I’m supposed to be scared now,” he said, his facial expression unchanged.

  “If you had any sense, you’d definitely be afraid.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but that little peashooter you got there doesn’t scare me.”

  “Oh, really? Well, maybe this will,” she said as she lowered the gun to his groin. Darnell looked down at the weapon and then back at the intruder. He cocked his head to the side and smirked. Shrugging his shoulders, he shook his head. His smile faded when she pulled back the hammer.

  “Okay, now, yo’ ass is playing a little too much,” he said.

  “Oh, so now, you’re scared?”

  “Move that damn gun away from my nut sacks,” he demanded. The intruder laughed and set her gun on the table. As soon as she did, he put down the drinks, grabbed her, and pulled her into his arms.

  “You know what? You play too damn much. What if that thing woulda went off?” The woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a clip. She smiled at him as she held it up to his face.

  “The gun’s useless without this. Besides, baby, I don’t wanna do anything to hurt this thing,” she said as she grabbed his penis. Darnell’s dick swelled in her grasp. She was turning him on in a major way, and there was nothing he could do about it. Not that he was complaining. Had it not been for the fact that he was hosting a party for his daughter and several other teenagers, he would have gladly taken her into his bedroom and blown her back out. Joy was her name, and being sexy was one of the things that she did very well.

  She had long, black hair, which she usually kept in a ponytail. Her cocoa-brown skin was soft and smooth. She had a perfect set of white teeth that caused her smile to illuminate whenever she parted her lips. Joy had high cheekbones and slanted light brown eyes. At first glance, she would appear to be a dark-skinned Vietnamese woman, but she was African American through and through. At five foot ten, she was nearly eye to eye with Darnell, and from the first moment he laid eyes on her, he felt that she was the sexiest woman that he’d ever seen in his life.

  “Joy, you need to stop playing,” he said, lust filling his voice.

  “Who’s playing?” She squeezed it harder.

  “Damn,” he grunted.

  “You like that?”

  “You know damn well that I do.” She leaned in and licked his lips, then pushed her tongue between them, forcing Darnell to open his mouth. The two kissed passionately for a few seconds before Joy broke the lip-lock. Grabbing his hand, she started pulling him toward the bedroom.

  “Wait. My daughter and her friends are out there.”

  “And what does that have to do with anything?”

  “Shit, nothing, I guess.”

  “Then bring yo’ ass on. Hell, I just want a quickie, not some two-hour marathon.”

  Darnell was just about to take her up on her offer when Turiq walked in.

  “Man, what’s taking yo’ ass so lo . . . I shoulda known,” he said when he saw Joy. “Hey, Joy.”

  “Turiq, has anyone ever told you that you have the worse timing?” Joy laughed as she walked over to him and hugged him.

  “Nope. Can’t say that they have.”

  “Well, you do,” Darnell said, frowning.

  “My bad, dawg.” Turiq cocked his head and looked at Joy.

  “Wait a minute. How in the hell did you get into this house without us seeing you?”

  Joy smirked and placed her hands on her hips. “You really got the nerve to ask me some bullshit like that? Nigga, you know a bitch got skills.” Joy smiled as she brushed the imaginary haters from her shoulder.

  “Yeah, whatever. Man, you better bring yo’ ass back outside. I didn’t come over here to watch a bunch of teenagers while y’all go upstairs and screw like rabbits.”

  Joy looked at Darnell and shrugged. With an “oh well” look on her face, she picked up one of the drinks and walked outside. Darnell stared at the door for a second or two, then turned his eyes on Turiq, who was trying hard to suppress a smile. Darnell, however, saw right through it.

  “You think that shit is funny, don’t you, ol’ cockblocking-ass nigga.”

  “What?” Turiq asked innocently. All Darnell could do was shake his head. He grabbed the other drink that he’d poured and headed out behind Joy.

  “Hey, man, ain’t that my drink?”

  “Nah, nigga, she took yo’ shit. Better hook yo’self up another one,” he said, gesturing toward the bottle. While Turiq was busy pouring himself another drink, Darnell went outside to be with Joy. The frown on his face caused her to burst out laughing.

  “Nah, baby, don’t put that shit on me. Ya’ boy Turiq is the one cockblocking.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Darnell leaned in close to Joy and whispered into her ear. “Did you take care of that little ‘situation’ for me?”

  “You know I got you, baby. That bitch is outta here. Check this shit out, though, baby. Not even five minutes after I put something hot in that bitch, one of the detectives p
ulled up. I was barely able to duck inside the closet before he came in the door.”

  “So, what did you do?”

  “I waited for him to drop his guard and cracked him in the back of the head.”

  “Did you kill him?”

  Joy shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t care,” she spat. Darnell laughed. He knew how ruthless Joy could be and was glad as hell that she was on his side.

  * * *

  Joyce Green had been a cop for the last five years. To understand her story, you have to know about her childhood. She grew up with her older brother Marcus in the Glenville area on Cleveland’s East Side. While their father was doing twenty-five to life on an armed robbery-turned-murder charge, their mother, Sarah, was busy holding down two jobs to keep food on the table and clothes on their backs.

  Sarah was a woman who commanded respect. She didn’t tolerate foolishness and ran her house with an iron fist after her live-in boyfriend and kids’ father Ronald got locked up. She was hard on Marcus but was three times as strict with Joy. Being raised in the inner city herself, Sarah knew of the dangers and temptations that it presented every day, especially for females. She constantly preached to Joy that the city was a dangerous place to live in and made sure that Marcus always kept his eyes on his little sister. Although Marcus was three years older than Joy, the two siblings were close to each other. It wasn’t until he started high school that he began to find his own niche. At 15 years old, his hormones had just begun to jump, and at 17, they were raging out of control. He routinely snuck young girls in and out of the house.

  With Marcus starting to spend more and more time with girls his own age, the green-eyed monster in Joy started rearing its ugly head. Knowing that whenever she wanted to go anywhere, her mother wouldn’t let her go without Marcus chaperoning her, Joy would often pick times when she knew her brother had plans. She would also play sick at night so that her mother would stay up longer, which would make it nearly impossible for Marcus to sneak out. Marcus knew what she was doing, and it pissed him off to no end. Still, he loved his little sister.