Hush

by Amaleka McCall

  “This is taking too long, Loca. C’mon!” Chastity said urgently, tapping her foot.

  Leticia ignored her. This was something she had to do. Once in the bathroom, Leticia ripped Diana’s robe off. Diana stood shivering, naked and crying, pleading for her life in Spanish.

  “You were taking a bubble bath, huh? Sure smells good!”

  Leticia sang, her tone becoming increasingly and eerily calm. The entire bathroom smelled of the Bath and Body Works brand, Warm Vanilla Sugar. Candles were lit all around. Leticia remembered when she and Diana used to take candlelit baths together. The thought angered her even more. Leticia’s skin was hot and her cheeks flamed over red. She felt outside of herself. “Get in the tub!” Leticia commanded.

  “Ple-e-e-ease! Loca, I love you!” Diana pleaded one last time. She knew Loca, therefore, she knew she was going to die. Diana had never anticipated Leticia getting out of prison so early. She was in the back of the courtroom when the judge had said, “Seven to twelve!” and slammed his gavel.

  “I said get in the fucking tub!” Leticia roared, her chest heaving in and out. She knew if she stood there looking at Diana any longer, she wouldn’t be able to hurt her.

  Diana finally relented and stepped one foot at a time into the warm, sudsy water. “Hail Mary, full of grace . . .” she began praying like a good Catholic would during their last rites.

  Leticia grabbed Diana by the back of her neck, pulled her tear-soaked face into hers and kissed Diana deeply, sticking her tongue straight down the girl’s throat until Diana gagged. Tasting the salt of her tears, Leticia released Diana and balled her fist and punched her across her cheek. The powerful blow sent the busty girl tumbling backwards into the water with a splash.

  “What the fuck, Loca?” Chastity asked incredulously as she watched from the doorway.

  Leticia looked back, tears rimming her eyes as Diana tried to get her bearings. She’d hit her head on the wall inside the tub, and was dazed and confused. Chastity had her gun in hand, but Leticia walked past her. Chastity looked on, confused.

  Leticia calmly walked over to the space saver over the toilet and retrieved a blow dryer. She plugged it into the electrical socket beside the medicine cabinet.

  Diana emerged from the water, gasping and wiping her eyes, just in time to see what was coming her way. “No!” she screamed as the blow dryer dangled over her.

  “Now you’ll know what hell feels like,” Leticia said as she let the electrically charged blow dryer drop into the water.

  Immediately, the water started to bubble, misty smoke rising from the tub like a witch’s cauldron. Sparks flew everywhere. Leticia jumped back, throwing her hands up to shield her face and eyes. Both Leticia and Chastity watched as the electricity caused Diana’s body to shake fiercely and white foam to spew from her lips. Leticia watched unfazed as life drained from Diana’s body. She retrieved a towel from the round metal holder on the wall and wiped her fingerprints off of the doorknobs and space saver. Throwing the towel at Chastity, she followed suit, wiping anything she remembered touching.

  “I still think you should put one in her ass,” Chastity said.

  “Nah, bullets can be traced,” Leticia said, her voice quivering.

  “Now that’s what you get when you cross the Fly Ass Bitches! The code is death before dishonor!” Leticia proclaimed exciting the crime scene.

  “’Member that time we jumped those fake ass CMB girls from Flatbush and dumped one of them in the dumpster?” Leticia joked, still showing no remorse.

  Chastity chuckled as they got back in the vehicle.

  “What happened? What took ya’ll so long?” Tori asked nervously, swinging her head back and forth, looking from Chastity to Leticia.

  “Just drive,” Chastity instructed, needing some quiet time.

  Tori peeled off.

  VOLUME 4: THE CITY OF NEW YORK

  After her meeting with Ricky and Bernard, Deidre agreed that maybe the case would be open and shut. Anyone could have kidnapped Amber Reeves, or maybe she was high on drugs and drove off a cliff, or maybe the girl was somewhere skied up and couldn’t get home. These were all thoughts that ran through Deidre’s mind as she prepared for her new assignment.

  Deidre found out that the Reeves had tried tirelessly to keep their little girl away from the lure of drugs. Ironically, Senator Reeves was the driving force in Congress behind the new and improved National Drug Control Policy that had placed a chokehold on major drug outlets across the world. Senator Reeves was also the former Manhattan District Attorney responsible for prosecuting Diego Esperanza, the ruthless leader of the Mexican drug cartel, “Diablo”. Reeves hadn’t put an end to Esperanza by himself. He’d done it with the help of a driven team of undercover agents from the Bureau, a team consisting of then Field Agents Ricky Blum, Bernard Baker, Ramon Aponte and Daryl Lewis.

  As a kid, Deidre had heard stories about the Esperanza case. She remembered how much time her father had spent away from home, working that case. The case had followed her into adulthood, because even during her undercover training, portions from the Esperanza case were used. Deidre had even heard that Diego Esperanza’s son was being groomed all these years to take over his father’s cartel. Would the young Carlos Esperanza really have the balls to kidnap the daughter of the man who put his father behind bars for life? It was a possibility that Deidre wouldn’t rule out. She also knew that Senator Reeves rode the Esperanza case straight to the Senate.

  Arriving in New York was eventful for Deidre. She had missed the crowded streets, tall buildings, and just the excitement of a city that literally never slept.

  Before meeting with her team, she needed to go visit the Reeves. They’d been staying in their penthouse suite on Manhattan’s Upper West Side. Arriving, Deidre thought she’d need her gun to stave off the throngs of reporters and paparazzi staked outside of the building. She was told that there would be a “controlled release” (the Government’s edited release of basic facts) of information to the media. So how did this circus get assembled? she asked herself.

  Once inside, the heavy air grabbed Diedre by the throat, and she was quickly absorbed by the somber mood that permeated the luxury high-rise apartment. Sitting on a long Victorian style sofa, Senator Reeves held his head in his hands, the hair on the top of his head completely gray. In Deidre’s assessment, he appeared as if he’d aged twenty years overnight.

  Standing by the floor-length windows with his hands shoved down into the pockets of his Dockers, was the former governor, William Reeves, Amber’s grandfather. His eyes were rimmed with red, and sagged at the bottoms.

  The women of the family, including Sandra Reeves, flitted around in the kitchen, trying to keep their minds occupied. Deidre couldn’t tell what exactly they were doing, but she didn’t smell anything good coming from behind the swinging doors.

  Sandra Reeves peeked her head out of the doors when she heard the clamoring of Deidre’s arrival. “Hello. Another agent to add to the army. You want something to eat or drink?” Mrs. Reeves commented, flashing a bright smile. Her face beamed and didn’t show any signs of the stress a mother would display if their only child was missing and feared dead. Deidre made a mental note of it.

  “No thanks,” Deidre smiled back, hoping her disapproval of the woman’s nonchalant attitude didn’t show on her face.

  The Secret Service and Bureau agents stood guard solemnly with their obligatory Oakley shades covering their eyes, as if a masked gunman would burst through the door at any minute. Several agents waited near the telephone, bulky tracing and recording equipment sitting in wait. There had been only one call to the Reeves, and no one had yet asked for a ransom. That was a bad sign in kidnapping cases. Communication was the only proof of life.

  Looking around, a lump grew in Deidre’s throat. Her initial intentions were lofty at best. She had come there to tell the Reeves that she was going to find their daughter and save the day. But the drab atmosphere put those thoughts to the back of her mind. Beside
s, she couldn’t tell them that she’d be undercover and risk anyone leaking it.

  Senator Reeves thanked her for coming. They were familiar with each other through Ricky. Deidre had met Senator Reeves once during his campaign for Senate. Ricky had been one of the Senator’s supporters, and without violating the Hatch Act, Ricky worked tirelessly to make sure the Senator won.

  Richard Reeves was a demure man. He carried himself like a true politician, always knowing the right words to say and always flashing a winning smile. Deidre had never seen him without his American flag lapel pin and a red or blue tie on, a true patriot. Senator Reeves was no stranger to politics. His family was just as powerful as the Kennedy’s. The Reeves had started their own 21st century Camelot. But like the Kennedy’s, the Reeves were not free from skeletons and family secrets.

  Amber Reeves was one of their secrets. She’d started using drugs recreationally in junior high school. After her parents divorced, the recreational use turned into a full-blown addiction. The divorce was very hush-hush. In fact, most people didn’t know that Sandra Reeves, Senator Reeves’ current wife, was not Amber’s mother.

  Inside the Reeves home, things never went smoothly. The hate between Amber and Sandra was no secret, and neither of them hid their disdain for one another. Family dinners often turned into screaming matches, with Senator Reeves in the middle. In Amber’s opinion, her father was always on Sandra’s side.

  Leaving the Reeves’ home, Deidre was back to square one with her thoughts of suspects. Her list, it seemed, would just keep growing. She’d witnessed firsthand how much regard Sandra Reeves had for Amber. Sandra seemed partially jovial, in Deidre’s opinion. Maybe Sandra had gotten rid of the girl once and for all, Deidre thought.

  During her visit, Deidre had walked around in Amber’s bedroom, looking for any leads. She found a small diary, and after taking a quick peek, she learned that on the last night Amber was at home, she and Sandra had finally gotten physical and gone to blows. Amber stormed out on her way to the Candy Shop to meet Chazz and the girls.

  Deidre hadn’t left Chastity Smith, Leticia Ruiz and Tori Banks off her list of suspects either. From what she had been told, these girls were the last ones to see Amber Reeves. One of Amber’s friends had revealed to the Bureau that Amber was selling “ice”, the street name for meth, to people at school for a crew called the F.A.B. Maybe she owed them money and things turned bad.

  Deidre’s mind raced with possible suspects. She was going to solve this case. Forget the newspapers. Her name would be set in wood on a door to a large office inside the

  J. Edgar Hoover Building.

  “I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips. Nigga, I’m from New York, New York. I gotta semi-automatic that spits. Next time that you talk, you talk . . .”

  Deidre bopped along as she drove over the Brooklyn Bridge. Being back in New York was going to be a trip. She reminded herself to drive through her old Flatbush neighborhood and see how much Church Avenue had changed. From what she’d heard from New York agents, Brooklyn had become the borough of churches and hair salons. Deidre smirked to herself at the joke.

  The Mercedes Benz CLS 500 that the Bureau had assigned to her for the assignment drove smoothly. The tires seemed to hug the road, and the leather seats felt soft as a baby’s ass. As soon as she’d gotten far enough into New Jersey, she tuned in to the New York radio stations. When she left New York, 98.7 Kiss was the hottest station on the air. All that had changed. Now it was Hot 97, WBLS, and Power 105.1.

  All Deidre could think about was her assignment. From what she’d read on the F.A.B., they started off as runaways and petty thieves, boosting, snatching, conning and pick-pocketing. Not long after, they got into selling weed, and then graduated to cocaine. After their operation got shut down, they left cocaine alone. Now they were at the top of a new game, shaking shit up. Apparently, the senator’s missing daughter was in some way connected to them. The Bureau and NYPD needed evidence. Senator Reeves and Capitol Hill were not going to rest until they got it.

  Deidre finally made it onto Adams Street. She looked out the window to her right as she passed the Supreme Court building, and knew that one day she’d be there testifying against these bitches she was about to go up against. If she made the case, that is.

  As Diedre approached Atlantic Avenue, the computerized voice on the GPS system instructed her to turn left northwest onto Atlantic Avenue, and continue three miles north. She did as told. Stopping at a light on the corner of Atlantic and Flatbush, she reached over to the passenger seat to retrieve the address. She examined the slip of paper; 710 Hall Street, her new home in New York. Her meeting with her informant and the surveillance team was a few hours away, and she needed to shower and change her clothes.

  Suddenly, her cell phone rang. “Hello?” she answered on the second ring.

  “It’s Denald. We’ll meet you on Henry Street by the hospital in two hours,” he said.

  “A’ight,” Deidre replied. She had used her first slang word in years. She smiled.

  Deidre pulled up to 710 Hall Street. It was a nice four-story walk up. She needed to meet Amos, the landlord that was going to rent her the apartment. She looked around for a parking spot. One whole side of the block was empty of cars, and the other side had cars parked and double-parked. “Great! Alternate side of the street parking!” she grumbled. Following suit, Deidre double-parked her car in the middle of the block. She retrieved two suitcases, her laptop bag, and another silver metal briefcase from the trunk. Struggling to hold everything, she dropped the metal briefcase. “Oh shit!” she cursed herself, letting everything else fall so she could scoop up the briefcase. She looked around nervously. No one had seen her. Taking a deep breath, she proceeded to her new home. She lifted the gray, brushed-metal doorknocker and rapped three times.

  “I’m coming! I’m coming!” a man with a heavy southern accent screamed out from the other side. The man pulled back the door. He was so short Deidre had to catch herself looking around for him.

  “I’m DeeDee. I called about the apartment for rent,” she introduced herself, looking down.

  “Oh, yeah,” the man recalled, with a stinky unlit cigar between his lips.

  A midget smoking a cigar! I done seen it all, Deidre said to herself.

  “Somebody done come here and paid your first month’s rent and s’curity,” the man said, still not asking Deidre in.

  “Yeah, that was my best friend. I’m just moving here from D.C.”

  “A’ight, well, come on in. My name is Amos,” he said, finally moving aside and allowing Deidre in. He turned and led her to the steps. “Yo best friend brang in ya furnitcha too,” Amos informed Deidre.

  “Yes, I know. I let her monitor the movers for me because I had to tie up some loose ends at home,” Deidre explained, thinking quick on her feet.

  “So, what brings ya ’round these here parts? I mean, I ain’t tryna get in yo business or nothing,” Amos commented.

  You could’ve fooled me! “ Well, I’m just looking for a change of pace. I hear New York is the place to be, and the city is too expensive to rent,” she responded carefully.

  “Dee Vee, girrrllll, I’ll tell ya. I’m from the South, Alabama to be exact, so this here city life ain’t for me,” he said, laying on his thick southern drawl.

  “DeeDee!” she corrected. She wanted to tell him to get lost. The little man smelled like cigar smoke, dog ass and bologna.

  “Here she is, the one bedroom suite,” Amos said as he opened the door to Deidre’s new digs.

  The apartment was quaint, but the hardwood floors were beautiful. She had never seen wine-colored hardwood, and it was so shiny that she could almost see her reflection. The kitchen wasn’t eat-in, but it had a small two-burner stove, a small refrigerator, and sink. That was sufficient for Deidre, as she had no desire to cook anyway. The bedroom had huge floor-to-ceiling windows, with large wooden shutters. The Bureau had provided her with black Italian lacquer furniture. The headboard, dresser,
and armoire were shiny black and piped in gold, a bit gaudy for her tastes. It was all the seized property of some flamboyant Italian Mafia member or notorious drug dealer.

  Deidre was so caught up taking a self-guided tour that she didn’t even realize Amos was following her around like a lapdog, and still talking. She looked at her watch. “Shit!” she exclaimed, stopping Amos in his tracks.

  “Is there something wrong?” he asked, surprised by her sudden outburst.

  “No, it’s just that I have to meet a friend in less than thirty minutes, and I need to shower and change,” she explained.

  “Oh, I get the hint. You want me out,” Amos replied with a hint of sadness in his voice. He liked looking at her, especially since he was eye level with her perfectly round backside.

  “No, no. I hate to rush you, but I can’t keep my friend waiting,” Deidre said, escorting him to the door.

  After he was gone, she ran back into the bedroom, unlocked the silver briefcase and retrieved her new identification—a driver’s license, passport, high school diploma, and birth certificate—all of which read “Deandra Barnes”. She placed the driver’s license on the bed and dropped the remaining documents into one of the nightstand drawers. She pulled up the black velvet divider inside of the metal briefcase, and made sure her father’s silver key was there. She was the only one who knew it even existed.

  After her father’s death, Deidre and her mother had tried to pick up the pieces of their lives. Cassandra had become distant, indulging heavily in drinking. Deidre had come home from school on numerous occasions to find her mother passed out drunk. One day, she arrived home to find a FedEx delivery guy leaving her porch. “You live here?” he asked.

  “Yeah, why?” Deidre responded.

  “I got a package for this address, and I see the lady in the house is on the floor. I’ve been ringing the bell for 15 minutes, but I can’t wait any longer. You gonna sign for it?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Deidre sighed loudly. She could feel the heat of embarrassment settling on her cheeks. She scribbled her mother’s name and took the package from the guy. “Thanks,” they both said.