R.I.C.O.

by C. J. Hudson

  Then came the hot summer night that changed everything. The date was July tenth, and the sun was just beginning to go down. Marcus had promised to take her to the movies. However, one hour before they were supposed to go, a girl that Marcus had a crush on called him out of the blue wanting to hang out. Marcus, not wanting to blow a chance to spend time with a girl he’d been chasing for months, told Joy that they were going to have to reschedule their outing. Joy was livid. She couldn’t believe that her brother was canceling on her to hang out with some tramp. When she couldn’t talk him into changing his mind, she brought out the big guns.

  “Either you take me to the movies tonight like you promised, or I’m going to tell mama that you had a girl in here while she was at work.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Marcus asked, trying to act as if he didn’t know what she was referring to.

  “You know what I’m talking about and stop cussing at me.”

  “Girl, get the hell out of my room. I’m about to get dressed and roll out.” Marcus pushed his little sister out of his room and continued getting ready. Two minutes later, his cell phone buzzed, indicating that he had a text message coming in. When he picked up his phone and looked at it, his jaw dropped. It wasn’t a regular text message his sister had sent, but a video text message. It was a video of him kissing one of the girls from his school. Had that been the only thing on the video, he may have been able to sweet-talk his mother into giving him a pass, but there was no way he was going to keep her from blowing her top when she saw that his hand had disappeared under the girl’s skirt. Marcus had no idea that Joy was even at home. As far as he knew, she was supposed to be at cheerleading practice at that time. He stormed to his door, slung it open . . . and was greeted by his smirking sister.

  “You sneaky little—”

  “Uh-uh-uuuh,” Joy said, wagging her finger. “Don’t say something you’re gonna be sorry for. I’m going to get dressed,” she said as she sashayed back toward her room. Marcus wanted to be mad, but all he could do was laugh. His little sister had one-upped him, and in a strange kind of way, he admired her for it. He picked up his phone to call and cancel his meeting with his high school crush, but before he could, it vibrated in his hand.

  “Speak of the devil,” he said to himself. He answered the call, ready to get cussed out for bailing on her at the last minute. But before he had a chance to say anything, she began apologizing for having to cancel on him. Marcus breathed a sigh of relief. Considering the circumstances, it was the best thing that could have happened. He pretended to be upset but didn’t want to appear to be too angry. He pumped his fist and smiled when the girl told him that she would make it up to him. Marcus had only had sex twice and was looking forward to experiencing the act again.

  He didn’t have a car, so he and his sister had to catch the bus to downtown Tower City. After the movies, Marcus called his mother to tell her that he and his sister were on their way back home, but they would stop and get some ice cream first.

  “What? No, it’s too late. You and your sister bring y’all asses home,” she’d told them.

  Marcus disconnected the call, looked at his sister, and shrugged his shoulders. “No ice cream tonight, li’l sis. Mama said we had to come home ASAP.”

  Joy pouted but knew better than to disobey her mother when she gave them an order. The two of them went to the bus stop and waited for the bus. While they were waiting, a police car passed them. The officer sitting on the passenger’s side eyed them suspiciously. Marcus snorted.

  “Punk-ass police,” Marcus spat.

  “What you got against the police, bro? Don’t you know that they only want to protect and serve? At least, that’s what the words on their cars say.”

  Marcus looked at his sister like she were crazy. Shaking his head, he grabbed her hands and looked into her eyes. He figured that it was time to school his little sister on the real ways of the police.

  “Sis, let me hip you to something. I know that you like to watch all those shows where the police are the good guys, and they come to ya’ rescue every day, but that shit just ain’t reality, at least not when ya’ skin is dark like ours.”

  Joy frowned. In her young life, the only thing a policeman had done so far was wave at her. It was hard for her to believe that a police officer could harm her in any way. Since they lived in a rough neighborhood where crooked cops came through and regularly harassed people, Sarah kept a tight rein on her. She was only allowed to be outside no longer than two hours and absolutely, positively, had to be in the house before the streetlights came on.

  “Bro, you been watching too many hood movies,” she laughed. “You need to––”

  “No, yo’ little ass needs to listen to what the fuck I’m telling you. You think you know what’s going on out here, but you don’t. These cops don’t give a fuck about our black asses, and the sooner you learn that, the better off you’ll be.”

  “Why are you yelling at me?” Joy asked with tears in her eyes. Marcus had never in his life talked to her like that before, and it threw her for a loop. He hurt her feelings, and it was exhibited as a tear ran down her cheek.

  Marcus felt like shit. In trying to school his baby sister about the ways of dirty cops, he’d inadvertently caused her pain. He grabbed her and pulled her close to him.

  “I’m sorry, sis. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that. I was just trying to let you know what time it was, so you don’t get fooled by so-called officers of the damn law.”

  Marcus held his sister in his arms and rocked back and forth. They were the only two people at the bus stop, but Marcus didn’t care if there were a hundred people there. All he cared about was comforting his sister. When he looked up, he saw the same police car that had passed them a few minutes earlier, stopping on the other side of the street. His eyes remained on them as he watched them get out of the car and walk their way. Joy must’ve felt him tense because she pulled away from his embrace and looked into his face. Following his eyes, she turned her head and saw the cops approaching.

  “Hey, is your name Rodney? Rodney Byrd?”

  “Who?”

  “Rodney Byrd. Is that your name?”

  “Nah, man. My name’s Marcus. Marcus Green.”

  The two cops looked at each other and then back at Marcus. One of them then whispered into the other one’s ear.

  “Let me see some ID.”

  “For what? Man, you asked me my name, and I told you. Why y’all messing with me?” Marcus asked angrily. He didn’t like the way the cops seemed to be accusing him of something.

  “You getting smart with me, boy? Maybe we should do something about that slick mouth of yours.”

  Marcus saw red. As bad as he wanted to tell them to go to hell, he knew that would only lead to more trouble. He especially didn’t want to get into a confrontation with them boys with his sister present. Figuring that the sooner he showed them ID, the sooner they would get the fuck on and leave them alone, he reached into his pocket.

  “Hey! What the fuck are you doing? Get your hand out of your pocket!” the younger of the two officers yelled.

  “Man, you asked me for my ID, so I’m—”

  That’s as far as he got before a bullet ripped through his chest and knocked him off the bench. Marcus collapsed onto the ground. He coughed up blood as he lay there, fighting for his life.

  Joy’s screams threatened to shatter the glass enclosure. She reached for her brother but was held back by the older cop. Lying on the ground was Marcus’s school ID. Since they’d already asked Marcus for it, he figured that it was safe to take it out of his pocket. Now, he was lying on the cold pavement fighting for his life. The cops took their time calling for an ambulance. By the time it got there, Marcus was gone.

  After the shooting, Sarah suffered a complete emotional breakdown. The only thing she had to cling to was that her son would be vindicated in a court of law. Because Sarah didn’t want to put her daughter through the pain of remembering what
had happened to her brother, she refused to allow her to testify. Her lawyer reminded her that without Joyce’s testimony, there was a good chance that the officers would get off scot-free. Still, Sarah didn’t budge. In her eyes, not only was she protecting her daughter from emotional trauma, but she was also protecting her against potential retaliation from the police. In the end, the shooting was deemed justifiable. Even though the police had instructed Marcus to show them his ID, the powers that be claimed that the officer’s explanation that Marcus may have been reaching for a gun gave them just cause to fire their weapons. It was bullshit, and the entire community knew it, but they were powerless to do anything about it. Even though Sarah eventually filed a civil suit, no amount of money could extinguish the pain of her losing her child.

  Despite her best efforts, Sarah was never able to recover. Because she was always on the edge of snapping, the state had no choice but to take Joy away from her. This completely broke her spirit and robbed her of her will to live. On the eve of her forty-eighth birthday, Sarah was found dead in her bathroom. Both of her wrists were slit.

  Joy, who at such a young age couldn’t understand why everything seemed to be getting taken from her, went into a deep depression. That lasted nearly a year. When she turned 18, the state released her from its custody. Upon her release, she was approached by a lawyer, who told her that her paternal grandfather had passed away. Joy didn’t blink. She’d never met the man, so she didn’t really have any feelings about it one way or the other. The lawyer also told her that he’d left her a substantial amount of money in his will. This bit of good news came at just the right time for her. With nowhere to go and not a dime to her name, she needed a cash infusion in the worst way.

  Because both her mother and brother were deceased and her grandfather had no other known relatives, the lawyer told Joy that the proceedings should move along quickly. He informed her that it would take no longer than thirty days for her to receive the inheritance. This still, however, presented a problem. Although the money was coming, she still had none at the time. How in the hell was she supposed to secure a place with no money? she’d asked him. Luckily for her, her grandfather owned the home where he lived. So as it turned out, she could live there without having to pay any rent. Things were looking up for her, but the memories of what happened to her brother and mother still haunted her. Every time she saw a cop, she wanted to throw up. She hated cops with a passion. Not only because of what they did to her brother but also because they had the nerve to pretend like they had given a damn. The entire situation made her wonder how in the hell they could sleep at night.

  Joy wasn’t so naïve that she believed every single cop was a bad one. But she did feel that the bad ones got away with bullshit because the good ones wouldn’t hold them accountable. It was called the “blue wall,” and she would bet her life that it was first invented by a racist-ass cop to trick ignorant-ass Black cops into keeping their mouths shut, even when their own people were being mistreated. But what could she do? Then, like a bolt of lightning, a wicked idea struck her. If she couldn’t beat them, she would join them and corrupt everything she could from the inside out. Of course, Joy knew that she couldn’t take down an entire police department. But what she could do was secretly look after the people that the corrupt cops usually targeted. While other cops were taking the pledge to protect and serve, Joy was secretly plotting to steal evidence and fuck up investigations. She blamed the entire police force for what happened to her brother. And she would feel that way until they put her in the ground.

  * * *

  “It looks like your daughter is having a good time,” Joy said, bobbing her head to the music. “I see that DJ you hired is getting it in,” she said.

  “Yeah, he kinda fly.” Before he knew it, Darnell also found himself moving to the beat. He looked over and saw Joy singing along to Jay-Z’s song, “Brooklyn Go Hard.”

  “Damn, that shit bumping,” Turiq said, coming out of the house, sipping on his drink.

  “Yeah, we were just talking about how the DJ’s killing it over there,” Joy said. She cocked her head and looked around. There was something strange about the party, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Then it hit her. There were no young men there.

  “Hey, Darnell, did you ever take care of that creeping situation?”

  Joy cut her eyes at Darnell. “Creepin’ situation? What creepin’ situation?” she asked.

  Darnell laughed. He thought it was funny the way she acted jealous sometimes. “Be cool, ma. It ain’t what you think.”

  “Yeah, Joy, stop acting so jealous all the damn time,” Turiq added.

  “Whateva.” Joy folded her arms and waited to see what they were talking about.

  Darnell looked at Turiq and shook his head.

  “What?” his friend and head capo asked.

  “Nigga, are you drunk already? You asked me that one time already, remember?”

  Turiq scratched his head and thought. “Oh shit, I did, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah, nigga, you did. I told you that I had Damon on it.”

  “Is someone going to fill me in on what the fuck is going on?” Joy asked impatiently. Darnell really didn’t want to disclose that matter to her. However, he knew from experience that if he didn’t tell her, she would bug the shit out of him until he did. He went ahead and told her about seeing Jamaal sneaking out of his house. When he finished, Joy frowned.

  “Now what, Joy?” he asked.

  “Baby, you shoulda let me take care of that little nigga. I woulda scared the shit out of his ass.”

  “I’m sure you would. But I don’t want him only scared. I want his ass to feel something behind that disrespectful shit. And Damon is just the man for the job.”

  “Hold up. Is that why there are no boys here? You’re punishing her?”

  “You damn right. She’s lucky I’m still giving her that damn car I promised her.”

  The three of them continued to shoot the shit until Darnell glanced over to where Sunny and some other girl were nose to nose.

  “Now what?” he said, rubbing his face. He was just getting ready to go over and see what the problem was when the other girl abruptly stormed off.

  * * *

  “This is some bullshit,” Sunny said, leaning back with her arms crossed.

  “Tell me about it, girl. Yo’ dad is waaaay outta bounds for this shit,” her friend Kim cosigned. She was a short, thick, dark-skinned chick who Sunny had been friends with for nearly twelve years. While most of the young men gravitated toward Sunny, Kim seemed to drive them away like tear gas. Her attitude was stank, and her mouth was rancid. But to Sunny, she was a good friend and one of the funniest people she’d ever met. Standing next to her was Stacy. Stacy lived a few houses down. Although Sunny and Stacy weren’t the best of friends, they were cool enough that Sunny felt comfortable inviting her to the party. Kim didn’t particularly care for Stacy and hated it when she was around. The fact that Stacy and Sunny were eye candy and she wasn’t caused her to become jealous whenever the three of them were together. Kim did a quick count of the guests and shook her head.

  “Twenty bitches and no muthafuckin’ niggas. Where the hell they do that at? Ain’t enough dicks in here,” she complained as if she regularly got laid. The truth of the matter was that she’d only had sex once. Kim wasn’t a pretty girl, and she knew it. So to compensate for her lack of beauty, she often threw herself at the opposite sex.

  “Kim, keep your damn voice down. Don’t you see my dad over there watching us,” Sunny said.

  “Sunny, I don’t know why you’re so mad,” Jazmine said. “This shit is your own fault. If your ass hadn’t gotten caught sneaking that simple muthafucka out of your house, there would be some dicks swinging around here.”

  Butter and Dani, who came to the party along with Jazmine, snickered.

  “Bitch, what the fuck you laughing at?” Sunny asked, looking directly at Dani. Butter was cool with her, but she didn’t like Dani. There
was just something about how Dani sauntered around like she was queen bitch that rubbed Sunny the wrong way. Sunny couldn’t place her finger on it, but Dani just looked sneaky to her.

  “I’m laughing at the same thing Butter is laughing at,” Dani said, pointing at Butter. “Don’t get mad at me because your daddy won’t let you have any male company up in this piece.”

  “Bitch, who the fuck you think you’re talking to like that? Jazmine, you better get ya’ girl before I beat the brakes off her ass in here.”

  “Come on, y’all,” Jazmine said, “calm the fuck down.”

  “No, you calm the fuck down. This broad is always popping fly at me, and I’m getting tired of that shit,” Dani stated. Before anyone could stop her, Sunny had quickly invaded Dani’s space. Jazmine quickly moved to separate her two friends. Although she’d known Dani longer, she and Sunny had gotten as thick as thieves in the last week or so.

  “Dani, why don’t you chill out?”

  “Chill out? Why the fuck you telling me to chill? Tell that bitch to chill out. She started it.”

  Sunny pushed Jazmine out of the way as she got nose to nose with Dani. “I’ll tell you what, ho. If you call me out of my name one more time, I’m gonna fuck yo’ ass up.”

  “You know what? I don’t even have to be at this boring-ass party. I’m going over to my man’s house and lie up under him. At least I can get me some dick over there.”

  With that, Dani stormed off.

  Chapter 12

  Detective Little sat on the steps holding a handkerchief to the back of his head. He’d only been out for about twenty minutes. To him, it felt like two hours. When he finally came to, he had a splitting headache and a golf ball-sized knot on the back of his head. His vision was slightly blurry, and he feared that he might have a concussion. The last thing he remembered seeing was a potential witness sitting on the couch with a hole in her head. He had just dialed the number to call it in when someone cracked him in the back of the head. Luckily for him, his car was equipped with a LoJack, and they were able to zero in on his location. His vision was just beginning to clear when two black Crown Victorias came skidding to a stop in front of the curb. The first Crown Victoria hadn’t even come to a full stop yet before Captain Moore yanked open the door and bolted toward his injured detective. While he was attending to Little, the other detectives made their way inside of the house. Little was surprised to see his captain there. Usually, he didn’t come out to crime scenes.