Riddles

by Rhonda Crowder

  I picked up the newspaper and looked at it again. I even pinched myself. Sure enough, it hurt. Feeling somewhat nauseous and experiencing bubble guts, I headed to use the toilet in the first floor half bath near the front door. I sat there with the paper in hand, wondering how someone who had been blessed with so much could be so cruel. I clearly understood how alluring Emerson could be, but to pursue this relationship at the expense of someone else’s life seemed beyond reasonable to me. Just as I laid the paper on the floor and finished up, I heard Pimp calling my name.

  I walked out of the bathroom after drying my hands.

  “Listen, we gone go see who this little mu’fucka is tonight. He the last piece to the puzzle at this point. So, be ready about nine-thirty,” he explained while preparing to leave with Pussy. “I’m taking her home, got a little business to handle. I’ll call you. Be ready.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  I walked up to the door, stopped, and stood in front of it. The number on it read 213. I took a deep breath to prepare myself. I tapped on the door and waited. The curtain moved and I saw a dark skinned face with beady eyes and a mouth shaped like a bird’s beak. I heard the click, and when the door opened I crossed the threshold, and shut it behind me. I stood in the entryway while Pimp and his two henchmen looked at me. No one said a word. One of the two men wore only one tennis shoe, he motioned for me to follow him into the bathroom. My heart sunk into my gut and I froze. I couldn’t move. Pimp saw my hesitation.

  “It’s gone be a’ight. I promise,” he whispered in my ear then stood back. I turned and stared at him. The sincerity in his eyes told me he did care, that he would protect me. He reached out his hand and I took it, allowing myself to place one foot before the other and approach the bathroom. When I reached its doorway, my eyes saw the most horrifying sight ever.

  With his each ankle ducked taped to a wrist, the young boy with dreads lie on the floor with a low-top Converse sticking out from his rear end. Blood and feces ran down his legs. I immediately gasped, but looked at his face. Upon identifying him as the guy in the club and trap, I turned my head. I couldn’t stand the smell.

  Pimp raised his hand for me to stop and motioned to the guys to turn him over. They reached in, flipping the young punk over like a pancake. A tattoo across his shoulder blade read, “Dub Deuce.”

  Definitely her brother.

  “We know Tory sent you. Got her ass too,” Pimp said. “Tell us why and we’ll let you go.”

  The boy grumbled. One of the henchman kicked him in his rear end. He refused to speak.

  I promptly turned away from the appalling sight and shitty stench. The sound of his whimpering sent chills up my spine as Pimp closed the bathroom door.

  When Pimp came back out, I stood near the window. He looked then reached for his cocaine white alligator man-purse and pulled out six stacks of cash and placed three in each of the henchman’s hands. Never uttering a sound, he opened the door for me to exit the room. We remained silent until we got into my truck.

  “She’s done,” he said

  “I don’t want you to kill her, Pimp. Too many people would be looking for her. Besides, too much blood’s been shed already. That has to stop somewhere.”

  “What’s the alternative?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t figured it out yet.”

  “You better think fast. But, brother in there?” He looked at me. “They’ll never see him again. His body is liable to be floating down the Chattahoochee River before sunrise. Her? She can just come up missing. No one will never suspect you.”

  “I don’t know, Pimp. Maybe I should just leave her and it alone. Gone ‘bout my business.”

  “It’s up to you Sunshine,” Pimp said as he opened the car door. “You calling the shots. But, just remember though. That bitch ain’t gone leave it alone. She will try again.”

  Pimp got out of my car and into his. He waited for me to pull off. Following me back to my house, we drove up Interstate 75 and the city’s beauty seemed delusional. I had fallen in love with Atlanta from the first time I entered Fulton County. I loved its new South splendor. But, I’d come to a point where felt worn out. I needed to slow my life down.

  I continued traveling along the highway until I reached the I-285 Exchange, then I went east toward GA 400 with Pimp following behind. Shortly after, we both drove past the gatekeeper and into my community. We made one turn after another to reach my street. As I made the last left, I saw a car parked in front of my house. At first I couldn’t make out but, the closer I got, it became more and more obvious.

  The audacity...

  With newfound fervor, I pulled into my garage with Pimp right behind me. Tory pulled into the driveway. I wanted to tear into her on the spot but knew I needed to maintain a calm demeanor. I didn’t want to let her on to anything until I decided what I wanted to do.

  As we all approached the door, she spoke. “Is this the infamous Pimp,” she said.

  “And, you are my dear?” His eyes scanned her body.

  “Tory,” she said. “I’ve seen pictures of you.”

  He slowly shook his head as he spoke. “Okay, I’ve heard quite a bit ‘bout you, too.”

  “Chyne is my best friend. We go back to college together.”

  “Your best friend, huh?”

  We managed to make it the house so Tory excused herself and went into the half-bath.

  Pimp looked at me like, What you gonna do? We had planned to park his car so I could drop him off at the airport. He would fly to Vegas for a quick video shoot then return.

  “I’m good now I know who it is,” I said, figuring I would ditch her until I mapped out a final course of action. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, Tory walked out holding the copy of The Atlanta Voice in her hand.

  “So, you know about Emerson and me?” she asked.

  Catching me by surprise, I chuckled. “Was telling me yourself, your reason for coming over tonight?” I crossed my arms and shifted my weight to the left.

  “I came to celebrate your birthday. But now that you know, how do we deal with it?”

  With canine like reflexes, I struck out at Tory with all my might. She attempted to speak before being knocked off her six inch, Red Bottom platforms.

  My first mind told me to choke her out. I grabbed her neck and transformed my hands into a set of pliers. She tried to mutter something but couldn’t get the words out.

  Pimped pulled me off of her. “Whoa!” he said. “I thought you didn’t want to hurt her.”

  I stood staring at her, breathing hard. She stayed on my floor, not moving. Fortunately, though I could tell that she wasn’t unconscious or bruised, just a little redder than usual.

  “Get up,” I screamed. She tried to stand. Moaning and groaning, it took her a minute to get on her feet. Just as she regained focus and made a sudden move, Pimp flashed the two .45 Berettas in the holster under his sports coat.

  “Easy,” he said.

  “You’re right, Tory,” I said, brushing my clothes off. I understand her motivation, to maintain secrets, so I appealed to her self-interest. “We do need to figure out how to deal with this.” I shook my hand as I moved toward the refrigerator to retrieve some ice for my thumb. “What do you suggest?”

  “How much will it cost for me and Emerson to live a happy life?” She inquired without a blink as if she looked to purchase goods or services.

  “How much! How much? You want me to put a price tag on people’s lives?”

  “I said how much.” She remained poker-faced.

  I shook my head. “You don’t give a fuck about nobody. You want that life that bad, huh? So bad you’d kill for it.”

  “I don’t know what you talkin’ about. I ain’t killed nobody.”

  “Two women dead. One in Chicago. I guess both as useless as rusty nails.”

  She swallowed hard. “Like I said before, how much you want? We can make it that simple.”

  I remained silent. Being caught off guard forced me t
o think fast because, I had to make a decision right away with no room for error. That was the difference in the situation with Emerson and my baby. With him, I had months to think about the best compensation package for us. With Tory, I had moments to decide because I knew I couldn’t allow her to leave without coming to some reasonable terms. I eyed her. She wants to protect her true identity more than anything else, I thought. Apparently, at any cost.

  “That’s the hand I’ll play,” Tory said.

  “Well since you’ve dropped your card, it’s my move. Right?

  She shrugged her shoulders. “”You want the money or what?” she said, sarcastically.

  “Oh course I do,” I replied. “I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.”

  “How much?”

  “I’m not quite sure yet. But seeing how you’re about to marry into the one of the wealthiest, most powerful families in Georgia, on top of what you’ve already got, I can come up with a fair amount. All things considered, ‘cause I’m sure you’re not up under ‘grandpa’ for nothing.”

  Her eyes protruded. I hit a vein. “Let’s make this happen and move on.” She attempted to reach for her Birkin bag but Pimp stopped her.

  “I wouldn’t do that, Baby Girl,” he said. She straightened up.

  “So, we will be able to put this behind us?” Tory said eyeing Pimp.

  “You think it’s that easy?” I asked with the meanest mug I could muster up. At that moment, my thoughts entered the realms of evil. I looked at Pimp, who still had his guns on standby. “I got an idea. Meet me down at my studio. Tory, you ride with him. He’ll drive your car.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  During the drive, I called my studio manager, Dakota. I told Dakota to clear everyone out, shut the live feed down for technical difficulties. I told her to set the cameras to record, and have it done in twenty minutes tops. I knew my customers enjoyed www.membersonly.com’s version of Saturday Night Live, but they would have to watch the television comedy show that evening. Not asking any questions, Dakota assured me she would make it happen. I trusted she would.

  “One more thing, just fall in line once we arrive. You’ll be compensated,” I said.

  “I got you,” Dakota responded.

  I pulled into the driveway behind Tory and Pimp. Once we all entered the house Tory asked,

  “What the fuck you bringing me here for?”

  “Because your money alone isn’t enough,” I said. “You ‘bout to become a porn star. We’ll call you Apples. And, you better act as if your life depends on it.”

  Tory’s face beamed with disgust. I looked over at Dakota and nodded. “My members have been requesting a real good two girl show.”

  Tory looked at Dakota, one of the most beautiful actresses working for me. Dakota stood five feet nine inches without heels and had a body stacked like new money. Dakota’s olive skin appeared flawless underneath long, jet black, wavy hair. She used to walk the streets until her circumstances forced her to stop. Then, she saw one of my ads and applied for a position.

  Dakota was such a freak. Guys always requested her. And, she liked my set-up so much she practically worked 24-hours a day. We grew closer together so I asked her to oversee the place for me, and she did a damn good job. For that, I paid her royally. I even provided boarding because of her difficulty securing housing on her own. Dakota looked back at Tory then puckered up her pink, narrow lips to blow her a kiss. The fear in Tory’s eyes scared me.

  Pimp patted the sides of his coat that concealed his pistols then gave Tory a shove.

  Not knowing what to expect, Tory slowly took off her clothes. We watched her every move – and so did the camera. She got down to her underwear before she stopped. Pimp opened his jacket and she continued. Dakota began to remove her clothes as well, starting with the shirt and bra. However, when she took off her skirt, Tory’s eyes grew as big as her fruity namesake when she saw Dakota’s masculine genitalia.

  Pimp’s did too.

  Dakota took the lead. And by the time they finished, Tory had been screwed in every hole on her body, except her ears and nose. The looks she shot at me were as dirty as the sex she performed.

  “It’s the hand you dealt,” I said as I stepped into another room. Pimp followed.

  “Damn Sunshine!” He waited until we were out of earshot. “You didn’t have to do her like that, did you? I just wanted to murk her,” Pimp said.

  “Killing her would be too easy and me taking her money wasn’t enough.”

  We had one more thing to do before letting Tory get back to her happy life. Get my money. We drove to Tory’s downtown condo and while Pimp waited in the living room, I sat in Tory’s home office ready to collect my ends.

  As I stared out at the sun starting to rise over Atlanta’s skyline, she arranged for the funds to be transferred from her account to mine. She had talked big when I told her my price. But, I knew it ate her alive to fork it over. I knew her desire to keep her secrets remained her number one priority. So she did what she had to do, paydapiper. The money was truly a teardrop in a bucket compared to what she stood to gain after officially becoming Mrs. Emerson Jones and no telling how much her “grandfather” may pass over to her, believing her to be his only living granddaughter.

  I wasn’t even sure if he knew his grandson ever existed.

  Tory sat behind her desk, perspiring profusely. Her every move expressed discomfort and nervousness, but she tried hard to maintain her stern demeanor.

  “So, what you going to do now?” she said. I knew her sarcasm served as her mere attempt to keep her guard up. “Go back to stripping?”

  “Who knows?” I said. “One thing I do know, I’ll be attending your wedding,” I responded. She cocked her eyes at me as if I was crazy. “I am your best friend, right? Isn’t that what you professed over the years? You better be glad I’m not requesting to be in it.”

  She took a deep sigh.

  “So, the least you could do is give me the honor of being a guest. I just want to see you marry the love of my life with my own two eyes as opposed to through some photographer’s lens. This is going to be one of the biggest social events of the year. And, you would have me miss it? Your bestest friend?”

  “The guest list is already closed.”

  “I’m sure you can make room for two more. So, like I said, RSVP me for two.”

  “What about Emerson? And his family?”

  “They won’t even notice me.”

  She took another deep breath and continued to push the buttons on her keyboard. “Let me think about it.” She hissed.

  “Think fast, like within the next sixty seconds.”

  Tory gave me the meanest look she could’ve ever conceived. “And, what about that video? I know you recorded that shit. How I know it won’t be circulating the Internet, that you won’t air it anyway.”

  “It’s the chance you have to take. If I live, no one will ever see it. I keep my word. But, if I feel the slightest bit of uneasiness, the world will know you as Apples.”

  I left Tory’s place a little over a million dollars richer. But I wasn’t going to keep the money. I had other plans for it.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  I pulled into the gated community Monday afternoon and parked. Once I got out of the truck, I took a deep breath. I owe this to her, I thought while exiting my car and approaching the unit. I tapped the door and Angie yelled for me to enter.

  “Hey Riddles. How you been doing, girl?” she asked.

  “I’m making it,” I replied. “Angie, I got some good news and some bad news, so I’m going to get right to it. Is Peanut here?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  “What is it?” She looked perplexed for a minute. My eyes must’ve appeared promising. “You found out who killed my baby?” she asked, as her facial features began to change. “Is that it?”

  “Actually, Angie, it is. I know who killed Malibu.”

  “Are you serious,” she calmed. “Who?”
<
br />   “Please. Hear me out. It’s already difficult for me to have to bear this.” I made myself comfortable. I also made sure she was in the same mode. I wanted to be prepared for anything. I looked down at the designer satchel by my side.

  “Angie, the person who murdered Malibu intended to kill me.”

  “Huh?” she blurted. “Why would-”

  “Allow me to explain,” I said cutting her off.

  “Please-” She crossed her arms.

  Being vague as I could be, I told her how it turned out to be a case of mistaken identity.

  “I’ve dealt with them and secured a substantial amount of money . . .” I held up my hand. “Before you say anything, I know this doesn’t replace your daughter, but I think you deserve to have it more than me.”

  I reached in my bag and pulled out a huge yellow envelope that could change Angie’s life forever. Whatever she did with it was up to her.

  “I have established a million dollars worth of accounts for you and your children. It’s enough to start over and take good care of them. They won’t be able to access their funds until they are twenty-one years old, but they’re set for college or whatever,” I continued, her mouth hung open. “Also, if you like, you can live in my house – rent free. Just pay the utilities. I’ll be leaving the States so I would like someone in there while I’m away. I don’t know when or if, I’ll return but ain’t trying to sell it right now. I thought it would be ideal for you and your children.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Riddles. You . . .” She sobbed while looking at the package I gave her. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  “Angie, it’s the least I can do and I still don’t feel like it’s enough. I realize it can’t bring Malibu back, but it could ease some of your burdens. I’m sure she would have wanted this for you and the twins.”