by Anna J.
The government could not prove that heroin was being sold, so they convicted her of other charges. Since she was a first-time offender, the judge gave her ten years, instead of the twenty she could have received. The loyalty and honor she showed made her loved even more in Harlem. She did her time with the same attitude she had on the streets.
Her fellow convicts loved her just as much as people on the streets. Inmates that were without family and friends to come visit them or send money would receive some of her joy. Tashy would have someone send them money, and during family outings she’d invite the inmate to sit with her family. Tashy became good with the law and helped others with their cases without charging, unlike your average jailhouse lawyer. Many hated her for that but wouldn’t dare let it be known. Despite her efforts to help, a hater or three always lurked in the background. There practically wasn’t an inmate in the jail that wouldn’t attack you for even saying a bad word about Tashy. Especially Ruby.
“C’mon, Ruby, there’s some people that I want you to meet. The two most important people in my life,” Tashy said, pulling her by her hands and passing tables with white coverings and candles placed there for the event. Seated all around were people old and young. Most of them were friends and associates of Scooter and were there to celebrate the release of his daughter, whom some had known since she was a child, and some had never met her but had heard about her. Because it was Scooter’s daughter, they came from far and wide.
Ruby was rushed to the VIP section by an overexcited Tashy, to a table that seated two people, a tall older man, unmistakably her father, and a young, pretty woman who looked like Tashy’s twin. A woman that Ruby had seen in pictures and had heard so much about during her time in prison.
“Daddy, Simone, I would like you to meet Ruby,” Tashy announced, standing aside so her father could stand and shake Ruby’s hand. Ruby noticed how handsome Scooter was up close. His skin had a copper tone and a rich glow. Scooter, now in his early sixties, was a well-respected old-school hustler with deep pockets. For a man in his sixties, Scooter held on to a well-built physique due to his daily workout of jogging and exercise and a strict no-red-meat diet. The only signs of age on his tall frame were the graying short Afro and matching mustache.
“Wow, you’re beautiful, just like your mother,” Ruby complimented.
“Thank you,” Simone said to Ruby after embracing her and sitting back down.
Ruby remembered the days when they shared a cell and Tashy would stare for hours at pictures of her now twenty-two-year-old daughter. She was twelve then, but Tashy had pictures of every special event in Simone’s life. Scooter made sure of that. Birthdays, graduations, proms, and all. Scooter taped and photographed everything for her. Every month Scooter would have someone bring Simone to the prison to see her mother. Tashy cried for long hours after every visit.
When Ruby asked about Simone’s father, it was the only time Tashy’s jovial aura would become dark and somber. Ruby figured the topic was a sensitive issue. Still, Tashy explained it to her.
“I was sixteen, and he was twenty at the time. I really liked him, Ruby. His name was Shane, and he was from Washington Heights. It wasn’t meant for me to get pregnant, but it happened, and when my father found out, he blew a lid something crazy. He found out about Shane, whose father was a Dominican hustler my father knew. A week later I find out Shane was sent to the Dominican Republic forever. He was told to never speak to me again. Last I heard, he’s married with kids.”
“I’ve heard so much about you, Ruby. It’s good to finally meet you.” Scooter spoke in a deep bass voice.
Ruby wondered if Tashy had told her father that they were lovers who had spent nights in a small cell, having lesbian sex, using lotion bottles as dildos and melting commissary candy bars to lick chocolate off of each other.
Scooter cut his eye to Tashy with a smirk. “I wish Tashy would have told me you’ve been home. I would have made arrangements to meet you. So what have you been up to?”
Even though Ruby knew Scooter was an old gangster, she didn’t think telling him that she was getting rich off of selling exotic weed in Brooklyn was a good idea. She didn’t think he wanted Tashy around the criminal element anymore.
“I’ve opened up a business in Brooklyn. A grocery store. I’m about to open a restaurant,” she answered, straight-faced.
Scooter nodded. “That’s wonderful. I was hoping Tashy would get back into the spirit of running a business.”
A maître d’ brought over two chairs so Ruby and Tashy could sit at the table with Simone and Scooter. Ruby noticed Simone had a serious look on her face. She didn’t inherit the constant jolly mood of her mother. Her face was oval shaped, like Tashy’s, and surrounded by shoulder-length, dark, shiny hair and a bang that was slicked back, revealing a long forehead. Her eyes were elongated and a flat brown. Ruby figured she was a deep thinker.
“Can I enjoy my freedom first, Daddy, before you start on me about running a business?” Tashy spat with a playful grin.
A photographer from Don Diva approached the table. “Excuse me, Ms. Williams?” the photographer said humbly. “May I get a picture of you and your family?”
Tashy smiled. “Of course.” She grabbed Ruby’s hand and tried to pull her from the table to join her in the photo.
Ruby grunted between clenched teeth, “Tashy, she said family!”
“You are family. Now get up.” Tashy smiled to the photographer. “This is my friend Ruby.”
The photographer raised her eyebrows. “Are you Ruby Davidson from Brooklyn?”
“In the flesh,” Tashy answered excitedly. “C’mon, take the flick. You can holler at her later on!”
Scooter, in his three-piece silk black Armani suit, red silk tie over a white shirt of exquisite quality, and a pair of Italian-made shoes in glove-soft leather, stood between his daughter and granddaughter, with Ruby next to Tashy, and posed for the picture.
Afterward Tashy, Ruby, and Simone danced, ate, and talked, while Scooter rubbed shoulders with the black politicians in attendance. Among them were New York City councilmen, a state representative, and a few members of the Congressional Black Caucus, who believed that Scooter was not the gangster that the government had made him out to be, but a black businessman from Harlem who had struggled though poverty by initially being involved in the numbers racket. Starting legit businesses, such as barbershops, hair salons, and a bar, and hiring local residents legally servicing the Harlem community were on his list of good deeds.
A lot of politicians had grown up in Harlem and had known Scooter coming up. They never forgot their friends when they made it in politics. So when the government began targeting him, they stood by him, and when Tashy was convicted, they rallied for her freedom. Though their cries went unheard, Scooter’s name was cleared of drug dealing when the government couldn’t prove the heroin was being sold out of Tashy’s hair salon.
“How’s your niece, Ruby?” Tashy asked while catching her breath after dancing with a famous R & B singer. Tashy knew everything about Mecca from Ruby’s correspondence with her after she was transferred to the prison in West Virginia. Two years later Tashy was transferred to the same prison, and she and Ruby wasted no time becoming cell mates again.
“She’s good,” Ruby answered, avoiding eye contact. While Ruby had no problem sharing her personal issues with Tashy, this wasn’t the proper place to talk about her concerns about Mecca. Even though they were lovers, they acted like sisters. They had sat up plenty of nights in the cell, sharing their life stories. They had bonded because they had a lot in common. When Tashy had told Ruby that she never had a mother, because she died giving birth to her, Ruby shed a tear.
When Tashy saw that, she knew that Ruby was her friend. Ruby hardly showed her feelings or emotions. The only time she showed any was when she was beating someone up. That was the first time she saw Ruby cry, and the second and last was when Ruby found out about her niece.
“When do I get to meet her?” T
ashy asked with a wide smile.
“Whenever. Right now she’s in New York, hanging with Daphne,” Ruby said, knowing that simply mentioning Daphne’s name would get her to change the subject.
Everyone in the West Virginia prison had known the two women had it in for each other. Though Daphne didn’t need to hustle in jail, hustling was in her blood, so with her knowledge of the law, she became a jailhouse lawyer. Tashy was transferred to the prison, and word got out that she was also good with the law and she wouldn’t charge an inmate for help.
It didn’t upset Daphne that Tashy was helping inmates free of charge; what got under her skin was Tashy supposedly told inmates that Daphne didn’t know what she was doing. So a confrontation between the two women was inevitable. Daphne didn’t appreciate anyone talking behind her back, assassinating her character.
One sunny afternoon in the rec yard, while Ruby and Tashy sat on a bench, playing cards, Daphne walked up and sat next to Ruby, turning to stare at Tashy. Tashy was no punk, but she wasn’t a fighter, either. She had grown up spoiled and protected by her father and her neighborhood. She never had to lift a finger at anyone.
That couldn’t be said about Daphne. She’d grown up on the rough streets of two of Brooklyn’s roughest neighborhoods: Bed-Stuy and Brownsville. She’d had to fight either in school, when girls would pick fights with her, out of jealousy mostly, and in the Tompkins projects. Tashy was no match for her.
“I hear you got a sweet tooth, Tashy.” Daphne scowled while cracking her knuckles. Ruby looked at both women, confused.
“Daphne, what’s up?”
“What are you talking about, Daphne? What is that supposed to mean?” Tashy snapped.
“It means you have my name in your mouth when it shouldn’t be.”
Tashy rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth. It was the first time that anyone ever saw her come out of character.
“Ruby, get this bitch before I—”
Daphne reached across the table and tried to choke Tashy, but Ruby grabbed her behind her waist. “Daphne, chill! Leave it alone!” Ruby ordered.
Tashy was on her feet, ready to rumble. “Let her go. I’ll fight her. She don’t scare me.”
“Tashy, shut up. Nobody’s fighting. Y’all both my peoples, so off the strength of me, squash this bullshit.”
Both women knew that if they didn’t respect Ruby’s wish, they would have to face off with her, and neither one of them wanted that. Ruby was a ferocious fighter and wouldn’t hesitate to use any weapon she could get her hands on. So both women went their separate ways. From that day forth, they disliked each other with a passion.
Tashy rolled her eyes. “You got your niece hanging around Miss High-and-Mighty, huh?”
“Tashy, you’re a grown-ass woman,” Ruby replied as she watched Simone, who sat quietly next to her mother. “Your grown mom’s had a petty beef with this girl in jail over nothing, and she acting like a teenager. That is over. That is all behind us, Tashy.”
Tashy waived Ruby off. “Yeah, whatever. Just don’t have that bitch around me.”
Ruby simply shook her head. “Grow up.” When Simone got up to go to the restroom, Ruby inquired, “She seems uptight. What’s up?”
Taking a sip of Dom Pérignon, Tashy replied, “I can’t call it, Ruby. These young chicks these days are spoiled. Plus, she isn’t the party type.” She looked around and lowered her voice as she changed the subject. “I’m glad you came when you did. My father tried to hook me up with one of his politician friends’ son. Girl, this man is so ugly, it looked like his face hurts when he smiles.”
Ruby giggled. “How rich is he?”
“Who cares? A billion dollars couldn’t make him cute,” Tashy spat.
After the celebration, and after everyone emptied the club to do things in Vegas that stay in Vegas, Tashy snuck off to Ruby’s suite in the Palms for a long-awaited episode of sucking and touching. Once they entered the luxurious suite, the women wasted no time coming out of their clothes.
As they kissed, passionately exploring each other’s bodies with roaming hands, Ruby asked in a husky whisper, “Does your family know about us?”
Tashy moaned in her ear, “Don’t ruin the moment,” and pushed Ruby on the bed.
With a seductive grin, she parted Ruby’s thick thighs and placed a warm, long tongue against her erect nipples. Ruby groaned and closed her eyes. To her, Tashy was the best lover she’d ever had. Tashy knew how to please her in ways Ruby couldn’t resist.
She knew exactly where to touch Ruby, making her go nuts. When Tashy placed her tongue between her thighs, Ruby arched her back while holding on to Tashy’s po-nytailed head. The silk sheets felt smooth under Ruby’s skin as they changed positions to eat each other out in the sixty-nine position, as well as using the doggy style and missionary. Their faces were wet with each other’s juices, while their dark, voluptuous bodies glistened with sweat. When they were done, they both leaned up against the headboard, smoking a joint of potent Mexican bud.
“So does your family know?” Ruby asked, blowing smoke circles toward a ceiling fan.
“No, and it’s none of their business.” Ruby knew that wasn’t Tashy’s real reason for not telling them about her lifestyle. She knew how much Tashy tried to please her father, and hearing that she was a lesbian might not sit right with him or Simone.
“Don’t you think they’ll start to question and wonder why you’re not with a man?”
“Shit,” Tashy grumbled while passing Ruby the joint. “I’m a grown-ass woman. I don’t have to explain my lifestyle to no one. I just did ten years for my father, so I’ll be damned if he judges me. Simone, I think she’ll understand. I mean, a lot of women are into it.”
Putting the joint out in an ashtray on the bedside table, Ruby changed the subject. “So, what’s your plan?”
Always the hustler, Tashy chimed right in. “I hear that weed is really popping. I know where to get it real cheap. I got a Cali connect, and you don’t have to do a lot of traveling. I got a hookup at this FedEx joint back home.”
“So you wanna sell strictly weight?”
“No doubt. You can get it from me cheaper than what you’re getting it for. One hand washes the other.” Tashy grinned.
Ruby knew that Tashy loved the idea of cutting Daphne’s throat. Daphne’s connect in Texas had good prices, and when she brought him other customers, he looked out for her by giving her a pound for free. She knew that if she stopped coppin’ from the connect, he’d lose a customer and Daphne’s commission would get shorter. She figured that Daphne would be angry if Ruby decided to switch connects, and hearing that Tashy was the reason would probably piss her off even more. Yet Ruby was about money, and no one got in the way of her making money. She owed no one an explanation. So the decision was easy for her.
“Give me a hundred pounds next week.”
“It’s a done deal.” Tashy smiled.
Grabbing Tashy’s face between her hands, Ruby smiled. “I’m so glad you’re home, baby.”
For another two hours, the women made love. Tashy left a sleeping Ruby to return to the hotel room she shared with Simone. As Tashy tiptoed through the hotel room so that she would not wake Simone, she couldn’t remove the smile on her face. After a shower, Tashy climbed under the Versace quilt on the king-size bed. In the dark, she did not notice Simone sitting halfway up, leaning her head on a large down pillow.
“So are you and Ruby lesbians?”
For the past few months, veteran detective Thomas Caldwell had been vigorously investigating the triple murders of Karmen and her sisters. Tall, athletically built, with a stubbled chin, hooded blue eyes, and a weathered face, he resembled Brett Favre, except for his jet-black hair. Frustrated, he knew that he desperately needed to solve this case. It would be the biggest case of his career and could mean a promotion to captain with a conviction.
Sitting behind his desk cluttered with paperwork, family photos, and a mug of coffee, Caldwell read interview after int
erview of witness statements, trying to see if he had missed anything of value. Tapping a pencil on his desk, he scanned the office that he shared with four other homicide detectives. Being thirty-eight, he was the youngest of them all. His thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of his desk phone.
“Am I speaking to Detective Caldwell?” the voice on the line asked, with a vintage New York accent.
“Yes, this is he. Who’s speaking?”
“This is Detective Mike Levy. I’m down at the Seven-Three. I’m working a double over here in East New York, and I think there might be a possible link to your triple.”
The news made Caldwell sit up in his chair, as the hairs stood on his neck. “Fill me in.”
“The owner of the bodega where your bodies were is a resurrected problem out of prison, after putting in a little over a decade. Been home for a few years now, and bodies start dropping where the circumstances surrounding the murders make her a possible suspect.”
“You said her?” Caldwell asked with a bit of surprise in his voice.
Levy sighed. “You heard right. Her name is Ruby Davidson out of Brownsville. This ain’t your average mademoiselle we’re talking about here, pal. She makes some of these male thugs look like the pope himself. Real evil broad, buddy.”
“So where’s the link?” Caldwell asked, anxious to hear the promising lead that would crack the case wide open.
“My double over here were guys rumored to have an involvement in the shooting of her niece, who recently came out of a coma, and the murder of her boyfriend. Her boyfriend’s cousins, who were also murdered, one of them was romantically linked to one of your corpses. I think her name was Karmen,” Levy said.