The Plug's Wife

by Chynna

  “Nah man…that wasn’t me. The jury is still out on that one. I’m still trying to figure that out myself,” Mitch answered, his voice shaky. “Whose to say it wasn’t her?”

  “Prove to me that you have the situation under control and you can give me back Brooklyn and I’ll consider this deal. But mi ah warn yuh…fi mi, there’s a high price to pay fi betrayal,” Blacka said, putting his splif down.

  “Deal,” Mitch said, standing up and extending his hand again.

  “Nah man, mi nah shake ands with yuh huntil I ave hassurance mi can trust yuh ya know. Set ups seem to guh and hand and in yuh crew deh,” Blacka said, changing to his thick accent again.

  Mitch dropped his hand at his side. “You’ll see. All I need is a little bit of time to make my moves,” Mitch said confidently.

  Blacka nodded, his eyes low and blood shot red now from the potent ganja. “Make me a believer.”

  **************************

  Caralina swung her legs in and out under the rickety metal table as she waited for the detectives to come back into the small, pale walled room. She looked terrible. Her usually vibrant skin was now pallid, almost lifeless. Her lips were cracked and dry like withered leaves. Her eyes were bloodshot and red rimmed with huge puffy, dark bags underneath them. Her hair was a ratty nest and she wore the same clothes for three days straight.

  Catalina examined the four broken nails she’d suffered during her attack on Summer a few days ago. “These can be fixed but what I’m about to do to you your ass will be beyond repair,” Caralina whispered to the empty room, as if miraculously her words could reach Summer’s ears.

  Caralina jumped, startled by the thick, pale grey metal door to her left squeaking open. She watched through wide eyes as two detectives walked inside. Their presence seemed to suck all of the oxygen out of the claustrophobic, windowless room. Caralina inhaled, trying to grasp as much air as she could. She felt like she was choking and she hadn’t even said a word yet.

  “Hi, Ms. Joplin. I’m detective Lyder and this is my partner, detective Bracken,” a slightly overweight, bald-headed and blue-eyed white man introduced.

  Caralina nodded calmly, although her heart raced. She was already regretting coming there. Speaking to the police, where she was from, was just as bad as killing your own mother. Cops stunk to her. A distinctive smell she was inhaling right now—cheap cologne mixed with stale coffee laden bad breath—summed it up.

  “So I understand you have some information for us?” Detective Lyder said, dragging another metal chair close to Caralina and sitting down. She felt the hair on her arms and neck prickle. Her throat and mouth were so dry she could barely speak.

  Snitching wasn’t something she’d ever pictured herself doing. Especially not on someone like Summer, who was directly connected to Jesse. When Jesse had introduced Caralina to Summer, he had made Caralina promise to be a loyal friend to his new love interest and to “watch out” for her. Caralina felt like it was the least she could do for Jesse, who had helped her through a real tough situation in her life. Now as she contemplated betraying both Summer and Jesse, she felt the sting of the past swirling in her mind.

  **************************

  Caralina was seventeen and sauntering down the notorious Hunts Point track in the Bronx. Barely clothed, her legs, back and ass ached from walking for so long. The hunger pangs tearing her insides up didn’t make it any easier to move seductively enough to catch a john. Caralina’s movements were more akin to limps and scoots that night.

  Jordan Bleu, her pimp, had rolled up on her for the fifth time that night. “Fuck!” she cursed when she saw his beamer inching up to the curb where she had stopped to rest for a few minutes. Caralina smiled in Jordan’s direction because she knew how unpredictable his moods could be. He didn’t return the smile. Instead, he pursed his lips and waved her over. Still trying to think positively, Caralina walked over, barely able to stand upright in her heels.

  “Hey daddy, you a’ight?” Caralina chimed with the phoniest voice she could muster given the circumstances. Jordan wasn’t swayed. He climbed out of his ride with his face drawn into a ferocious scowl.

  “How much you pull?” Jordan asked, getting in her face so close the cinnamon Altoids on his breath shot up Caralina’s nose.

  “Um… it’s…” she stumbled over her words.

  “Answer the fucking question!” Jordan barked.

  “All I was able to get was two fifty so far,” Caralina said, her voice quivering. Two hundred fifty dollars for almost nine hours of work was pennies and she knew it.

  “A’ight, you out here playing around I see,” Jordan growled, baring his teeth like an animal about to eat its prey. “Get in the fucking car!”

  Caralina knew better. She knew if she got into Jordan’s car the ass whooping she’d receive would be the worst to date. Jordan had already warned her days ago about her low earnings. Caralina tried to explain to him that she couldn’t bring in much when she was on her period, but that explanation was not satisfactory. There was but so much she could make just selling quick ass blow jobs. As she stood there with her body trembling so hard she could barely balance on her feet, Caralina imagined the pummeling she would receive. A black eye or maybe two. Maybe a broken nose and two missing teeth like one of Jordan’s other girls received. Or worse…maybe he would slice her face and she’d have a permanent buck fifty to show the world. Her flight or fight instinct kicked in.

  “You act like you can’t hear bitch! I said get the fuck in the car!” Jordan hissed reaching out towards her.

  Caralina did something that defied all sensibility.

  “No,” she mumbled, stepping backwards in her six-inch clear plastic heels. She considered running, but it would’ve been impossible to move in those shoes without breaking her ankle or falling flat on her face.

  “What you said to me?” Jordan growled through his teeth. He looked at her through squinted, fury-filled. His fists clenched tightly at his side. Caralina swallowed hard and decided at that moment that she was just going to take her chances on the street. She did not want to get locked in that car and beat mercilessly.

  “I said I’m not getting in the car,” Caralina spoke up louder this time, some strange force giving her courage. Maybe the pain in her back and legs left her partially delirious.

  Before the words could fully leave her lips, Jordan pounced on her like a cheetah on an antelope. He hit Caralina so hard blood sprayed from her nose like a busted fire hydrant.

  “You talkin’ breezy like a nigga don’t own you n’ shit…huh?” Jordan gritted as he winded his hand in Caralina’s hair and tugged her down onto her knees. Fire raged in her scalp as Jordan pulled. She wouldn’t have a strand of hair on her head if he kept it up.

  “You ain’t gon’ listen to me? Really? That’s what the fuck you goin’ with? Well I say differently. Bitch, you must’ve sucked a dick called courage t’day, huh?” Jordan huffed as he dragged her towards the car, the cement shredding away the skin on her knees and shins. Caralina felt like someone doused her legs with kerosene and lit them afire. She felt pebbles from the concrete digging in and finding a home in her flesh. Jordan reached under where her head was hanging and thrust his balled knuckles full force into Caralina’s face.

  Caralina screamed and gurgled as her own blood threatened to choke her to death. She felt one of her teeth jump loose. Blood leaked from her nose and mouth making her face a wet deep crimson mess.

  Jordan hissed and spat vituperative words like the devil himself. He slammed Caralina’s face several times on the sidewalk until she finally couldn’t feel it anymore.

  Then, just like God had sent down a guardian angel, Caralina heard a man calling out, screaming at Jordan to stop.

  “Yo man, why you hitting on that little girl? You can’t find no men to beat on?” her savior’s voice shouted. Caralina could barely see out of her battered eyes, but she could tell the source of the voice was moving fearlessly towards Jordan. “I asked
you a question, big man? Can’t find no other men to test your boxing skills on?” This man had big cahones, that was for sure.

  Mind ya fuckin’ business nigga! This my bitch. Get the fuck back in ya Benz and drive on bid’ness man. You don’t want nothin’ wit me,” Jordan replied ignorantly, tightening his hold on Caralina’s hair. Pain throbbed through her scalp and head. She prayed that she would lose consciousness soon.

  “I’m not a nigga, first of all. I am a business man, but not the type you’re mistaking me for son,” the voice said, louder and clearer.

  “I’m going to ask you one more time to let the girl go and go find a man to fight with,” the voice demanded of Jordan.

  “And I’m going to say this one more time. Take yo’ square ass, bidness suit wearing, corny ass back in ya car and mind ya fuckin’ bidness…lame nigga,” Jordan spat in response.

  Suddenly, a scuffle ensued. The next thing Caralina knew, Jordan released his grasp on her hair. She crawled on all fours trying to get away from the fight. When she felt she was a safe distance, she turned and saw three men raining punches, kicks and stomps down on Jordan’s body. The man who saved her allowed his goons to finish Jordan off while the leader stepped over to Caralina and extended his hand towards her. He helped her up off the ground, her bruised, wobbly legs barely able to hold up. He removed his silk pocket square from his suit jacket pocket and handed it to her so she could clean up her bloodied face. Tentatively, Caralina accepted the clearly expensive piece of material. She immediately wondered what this well dressed stranger wanted in exchange for his kindness.

  “You are too young and too beautiful to be out here like this. My name is Jesse Banks. I think I can find some legal work for you to do so you don’t have to degrade yourself like this. That piece of shit over there is not worth your life. He clearly doesn’t care one bit about you,” Jesse said seriously, speaking to Caralina like she was his disobedient daughter. Caralina could not stop the flow of tears from her eyes at that moment. No one had shown an interest in her welfare before.

  “You don’t have to make a decision right now. But after you go home and look at yourself in the mirror, you decide if it’s worth it. Here’s my card…give me a call if you want to live a better life.”

  Jesse called her a cab, handed the driver a wad of money, and sent her home.

  The next morning, Caralina dialed the number on the business car and her life had changed forever.

  ***************************

  “Ms. Jopline, are you okay? Do you need a glass of water? I understand this is hard, but if you have some information that might help us, we would appreciate your cooperation,” Detective Lyder said, snapping Caralina back into the present.

  Caralina cleared her throat and looked down at those four broken nails again. She needed a reminder of how fucked up her life was and why. Summer needed to be put down and she was the one to do it.

  Caralina looked at Detective Lyder’s icy blue eyes and felt sure that once she gave him the information Lyder would be just the evil motherfucker to use it against Summer in the worst way.

  “Yeah, I have plenty of information,” Caralina rasped trying to find her voice. Detective Bracken picked up his pen, his eyes trained on Caralina’s mouth. She lowered her eyes, ashamed of what she was about to do.

  “My boyfriend recently went missing. I think I know who killed him and why,” Caralina looked up, her eyes laden with sadness. She swiped at her newly fallen tears and continued without thinking too much. Memories of Scrap and the life she had fantasized about having with him propelled her story forward. Detective Lyder scooted his chair closer while his partner Bracken scribbled wildly on a yellow legal pad. They had been waiting for an insider like Caralina for years. One weak link was all the detectives needed to start putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

  “Go ahead,” Lyder encouraged, his foot tapping anxiously against the grey, concrete floor.

  “My boyfriend Lewis “Scrap” Parker worked for Jesse Banks and I think both of them were killed by the same person,” Caralina said, her words coming out slowly. Both detectives were hanging on her every word, anticipation written across their faces as normal as if it was supposed to be there.

  “I think the murderer is Summer Banks, his new wife. She’s also head of JB’s drug empire…the new boss,” Caralina’s words dropped like bombs and she waited to gauge the detective’s reactions. Detective Lyder leaned back in the chair, stretched his arms over his head and let out a long sigh

  The detectives had spoken to Summer Banks at least three times after Jesse Banks’ death and she’d always been so seemingly distraught over her husband’s senseless murder. At first Lyder listed her as a possible suspect, but when all of her alibis checked out, he’d eased up on his initial “the wife did it” theory. Having your husband killed just minutes after the wedding ceremony was just too farfetched even for the most hardened of gold-diggers.

  “So what makes you think this?” Bracken asked, looking at Lyder with raised eyebrows. They’d been waiting months for a break in the Banks murder case, but something about this sudden gift-wrapped information didn’t seem kosher. Something about Caralina Joplin was a bit off. Hood girls like her didn’t just waltz into precincts ready to help the cops. In fact, hood girls like Caralina despised cops. Bracken leaned into the table with a serious gaze waiting for Caralina to explain.

  “Look, I have the inside scoop, okay? It may be hard to believe that I’m here, but I just want justice for my man…that’s all. Scrap told me that Jesse Banks, who we called JB, was suspicious about his wife’s background. Yeah, she was my friend, but that friendship was largely forged by JB. At first, he paid me to be her friend, believe it or not. I can’t front though, we did become close and eventually I stopped taking money from JB to be her friend. We were like sisters almost. But when JB proposed to Summer….I don’t know…things changed.”

  Lyder and Bracken shook their heads with feigned sympathy.

  “Well I didn’t end up with JB, but I started dealing with Scrap. You know, it started out like your typical hood romance…with sex. But we got close and after a while he started talking to me about stuff. Business and personal stuff. Scrap told me that JB had someone follow Summer and saw her meeting with some older Spanish type dude, who she paid money. Then JB checked into his finances and saw that she was stealing some of his money. Scrap was mad because he said JB still acted like nothing was wrong, like there must have been a good reason for her to do that. Anyways, JB never got the chance to confront her about the money or the strange man because their wedding was only a few days away when he found out. He loved her that much, I guess. Even though he knew something was up, he still wanted to marry her. I swear JB changed a lot after getting with her. Scrap always said it was like she had some kind of voodoo on JB’s ass. For me, I was loyal to her and I planned to stick by her side always. But after she killed Scrap…for no reason…” Caralina’s voice trailed off. Lyder handed her a box of Kleenex. Caralina wiped her face and exhaled.

  “I think she found out that JB was on to her game and so she set him up to get shot. When she was in the hospital after the shooting, I asked the guys if they thought the whole shit with JB getting shot was a set up. They all told me to shut my ass up, but the whole scene stunk to me. Someone from the inside had to tell those shooters about the plans for that day. The shit was like top secret from the door, so it was either her or one of the guys in the crew. I know it wasn’t Scrap. I also feel like she shot Scrap because he was on to her too. She made the other guys believe he was a traitor and then…she just…she just…murdered him and left him like an animal for the Mexicans to dispose of his body,” Caralina sobbed, her body quaking as she got to the end of her statement.

  Lyder stood up first, Bracken followed.

  “We’ll be right back. Sit tight,” Lyder huffed. They rushed from the room without another word. Caralina knew by their urgency that what she had told them had set things into motion. Summ
er’s time as boss was quickly nearing its end.

  *************************

  Summer glanced at her ringing cell phone and answered in a huff. She waved to Billy to pull over.

  “Right here? On busy-ass Nostrand Ave?” Billy asked. Summer shot him a look and he swerved the car to the curb.

  Summer jumped out and walked a few paces away from the car.

  “Detective Bracken…yes, I can talk now,” she hurried her words. Her body was tense with suspense.

  “Really? Oh she did, did she?” Summer responded to the detective. Heat rose from her chest, making its way up her neck and face.

  “So how will you handle Lyder, then? I mean he was never on JB’s payroll and of course I want to find out who killed him, but I also don’t need you all up my asses for something I clearly didn’t do. Especially on the word of that crazy bitch,” she said. Summer tapped her foot impatiently, her blood rushing live a rushing river.

  “You keep Lyder off my back and go try to find the real killers. I’ll take care of Caralina and her snitching ass mouth,” Summer assured. She disconnected the call. She took a few deep breaths before attempting to return the car. Summer silently thanked Jesse for being smart enough to have cops, politicians and other prominent officials on his payroll.

  Summer shook her head slightly and flexed her shoulders, trying to shed the anger boiling up inside of her. She started towards the car feeling the heat of Billy’s gaze on her through the window. Summer exhaled through her mouth. This time, if Billy had questions, she wouldn’t mince her words. Caralina’s name had just been added to Summer’s list of obstacles that needed removing.

  “Change of plans,” Summer told Billy as she slid into the car. He looked at her expectantly.

  “I need to visit a friend, so bust a U whenever you can. She lives back that way,” Summer instructed, reaching for her gun.

  “Lina’s house? I thought you weren’t talking to her no more?” Billy asked.