The Mike Black Saga Volume 2

by Roy Glenn

He thought about the way that D-Train was coming at him. That wasn’t the way, sending people into the houses to set up, and each of them meeting the same fate. Maybe Black was right. The smart move was to defeat them without any fighting. He needed to out-think him, not out-fight him.

  Maybe that’s all Wanda was trying to do was to make me think.

  Then they came to her favorite store, Victoria’s Secret. Paulleen loved Victoria’s Secret, and not just for the sexy lingerie, although she loved that too and had tons of it. It was because of the variety that they carried. She started with a Point d’Esprit sequined babydoll.

  “Side slits, lace trim, adjustable straps, matching V-string. Sweet,” Paulleen said and picked out a satin robe with a shawl collar and tie belt. But it didn’t stop there. She found a lace-up mesh corseted Anna Paul silk floral babydoll. Next Paulleen tried on an Allen Schwartz crinkle chiffon cami, and a lace racer back bra-top tank.

  Then they moved on to Macy’s.

  “Baby, these are Blue London jeans. Top- stitched, ultra-sexy jean in black platinum.” Paulleen liked those, but they weren’t going to work for every outfit. Then she found some DKNY jeans and a pair of Michael Kors Greenwich stretch jeans, and a sexy strapless dress with allover soft pleats and sparkling bands of contrast sequins for added glamour. The short, flirty skirt hit at mid-thigh; side zip, of course, by Allen Schwartz.

  On the way to the car, Paulleen wanted to stop at Nail City to get her nails and toes done. “Fuck that shit,” Freeze said. “We been here too damn long already.”

  “Okay, okay,” Paulleen said and struggled to the car with her bags. Freeze’s hands were full of bags too, but he didn’t mind. Even though he complained about it the whole time he was there, Freeze enjoyed shopping with Paulleen. It was one of the few chances that he afforded himself to treat his woman like a queen.

  Besides, she was light today. All this cost only five grand.

  “I don’t know what you need all that shit for anyway,” Freeze said. “You’re not gonna wear half of that shit.”

  “Well, if you would take me out sometimes instead of running the streets all day and night, then maybe I would have someplace to go.”

  That’s when Freeze saw a car pulling out of a space near where he was parked. Out of the corner of his eye, Freeze noticed the old Chevy Nova speed up and come right for them. As the speeding car approached, Freeze saw the gun.

  “Get down!” he yelled to Paulleen.

  He dropped to the ground, reaching for his gun. Freeze fired back at the car as it sped away. He quickly got to his feet and chased after the car, firing shots as he ran. But it was too late. The car was too far away to hit, or even to see the license plate. All that Freeze could tell was the make and model.

  “Chevy Nova, looks like a ’73 model,” Freeze said as he walked back to Paulleen. He noticed that a small crowd had formed around her. “Always got to be the center of attention,” he said as he pushed through the crowd.

  Freeze stopped dead in his tracks and dropped to his knees. Paulleen lay on the ground, surrounded by her shopping bags, in a pool of her own blood.

  “Paulleen,” Freeze whispered and took her hand in his, but she was already gone.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Nick drove to the post office on White Plains Road and waited. He had been there for almost an hour when a late model dark blue Ford pulled into the parking lot. A tall, slender white man got out and went inside. Nick got out of the car and waited for him to come out. As soon as he did, Nick walked up on him.

  “Excuse me. Do you have change for a dollar?” Nick asked. The man turned around slowly. “Gotta make a phone call.”

  “That’s an old code, Nick. I was about to shoot you.”

  “I am glad you didn’t, Freddie. You still living dangerously?”

  “Me? I should be asking you that. What are you doing here?”

  “I need some help.”

  “Oh shit. I knew I was gonna regret not shooting you. What is it?”

  “You ever hear of a guy named Paris and some papers he was trying to get his hands on?”

  “Doesn’t ring any bells, but meet me here same time tomorrow, I’ll see what I can find out.”

  After Freddie left, Nick got back in his car and drove away to talk to Monika. When he took her out of the hospital, Nick didn’t have time to explain what was going on. He just rushed her out of there and took her somewhere she’d be safe.

  When he got there Nick told Monika everything that had been going on. From the DEA agent being killed to Shy’s kidnapping, to his conversation with Sally Fitz.

  “Sally Fitz! That slimy bastard,” Monika said. “He didn't give you the money he owes me?”

  “No, sorry. He didn’t even mention it.”

  “I didn't think so. Since he wasn’t talking about paying me the money he owes me, what’s the slimy bastard talking about?”

  “You remember a guy, called himself Paris?”

  “Grey boy, thought he was cool, always used to wear sunglasses at night?”

  “That’s him.”

  “What about him?” Monika asked.

  “I’m not gonna bore you with the Pam Grier story he told me, but one of his mules left a package in the open.”

  “And?”

  “Sal didn’t know who the buyer was, but General Peterson was brokering the deal.”

  “What was in the package?”

  “He said it’s got something to do with South America and drugs.”

  “Stop right there, Nick. What are you trying to say?”

  “That I think that package has something to do with us and that the buyer is Diego Estabon.”

  “So you think it had something to do with what we were doing down there?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” Nick replied. “But I can’t get past what Felix said.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That if what we were doing down there became public knowledge, there’d be hell to pay in Washington. That’s why they had to get rid of us.”

  “I think you’re right. I mean, you said it yourself. There we were in South America, small teams, each working independently, killing drug dealers, blowing up drug plants and seizing their financial records. But then the entire unit is needed to take out one plant: Diego Estabon’s plant. So if that package is what you think it is, were fucked.”

  “I gotta try to find out what’s in that package.”

  “Felix and the General work for Estabon. And he was Chilly’s supplier, right?”

  “That’s something that always has bothered me, Nick, but now it makes sense.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Why did Chilly’s wife hire us.”

  “What?”

  “It’s not a hard question. Why did she hire us, a team of paid assassins, for a missing persons case?”

  Nick didn’t have an answer.

  “I mean, we weren’t really private investigators. We didn’t advertise, we weren’t listed in the phone book, so how did she find us?”

  “I never thought about that,” Nick said.

  “I think that if we could actually find Mrs. Childers she would tell you that she was recommended by Diego Estabon.”

  “She does know him, so it is possible,” Nick said.

  “Who else could it be? They set us up to be killed?” Monika paused. “How many people do you think are involved in this?”

  “I don’t know, Monika. There’s no telling how many or how far up the chain of command this goes. But I do know they’re still gonna want us dead. That’s why I brought you this.” Nick handed Monika a wooden box with the initials M.W. on it. Monika smiled. The box contained two 9-millimeters. Nick and Jett had given it to her for her last birthday.

  “I got them from your house after you got shot.” Nick handed Monika a box of clips. “You should be safe here. Call me if you need me. I promise to answer this time,” Nick said and got up.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  There wa
s no telling what time it was when Shy woke up. At this point, she had no idea what day it was or how long she’d been there. She was being treated well for the most part.

  If you can consider being tied to a bed all day treated well.

  She considered herself fortunate that she was still alive and hadn’t been raped. The only thing she did know was that there was a McDonald’s somewhere nearby, or at worst, one of her captors loved it there, because that’s all she’d been given to eat.

  When it was time for meals, two armed men, both wearing masks and gloves, would come into the room where she was being held. Neither would speak. They would untie her, remove her blindfold and allow her to use the bathroom. While Shy ate, both men would sit in the room with their guns pointed at her. Once she was finished eating, the blindfold was placed over her eyes and they would tie her to the bedpost and leave her alone again.

  Shy slept most of the day, and when she wasn’t sleeping, she thought. She tried to think of something constructive, but it wasn’t easy to keep a positive mental attitude when she’d been kidnapped and tied to a bed for who knows how many days.

  There was one thing that she, no matter how hard she tried, couldn’t help thinking about. Who was that woman and why did she want to kill Shy so badly? No matter what she thought about, and Shy had nothing but time to think, she always came back to that one point.

  She thought about all the women who might have a reason to want her dead. She had, as a rule, steered clear of women.

  They are bad news and bad for business, Shy remembered her father telling her when she was younger.

  For that reason, her list of suspects was short. First on her list was Susan, Ricardo’s wife. When Shy met Mike, she had been dating Ricardo. But for three years, Ricardo had been living a double life. One night when they were at a club, Ricardo told Shy that he could never see her again because while Shy was in love with him, he had another woman and they were getting married. But then he flipped it on her and told Shy that they could still see each other on the low.

  Shy lost her mind. She stood up and pulled out her gun. She was about to kill him, but one of her crew grabbed the gun out of her hand. After that, Shy didn’t have any interest in men, preferring instead to concentrate on making money. That was until she met Mike Black.

  It didn’t take Shy long before she ruled Susan out. She just didn’t have it in her.

  There was only one person Shy could think of who would have a reason to want her dead. She never actually met her. In fact, she’d only seen her twice, and for the life of her, she couldn’t remember her name. Shy remembered the first time she saw her at Impressions on the night that she met Mike.

  The second time, Shy had just left Mike at Cuisine. She was riding with Jack, one of her old crew, when she saw the woman coming. Shy remembered saying, “Slow down, Jack. I wanna make sure this bitch sees me.” They drove past slowly, but the woman wasn’t looking. “Honk the horn.” When the woman looked at the car, Shy mouthed the words, He’s mine, then motioned to Jack to drive on.

  Shy remembered thinking that it was funny back then. Now, if this was the same woman … And I’m sure that it is, it couldn’t be anybody else … then it wasn’t funny. And if that was the case, then what was whatever her name is doing mixed up with South American drug dealers?

  Since the doctor sedated her back on the boat in Miami, she hadn’t heard Sal’s voice. Was it possible that she was no longer in Miami and that Sal brought her to New York and left her?

  New York, Shy thought.

  The idea that she might be back home in New York made her smile. Not just because she was in the city, but if she was in the city, Shy knew that sooner or later Mike would find her. It was a very comforting thought.

  Just then, Shy heard footsteps coming down the hall and the fumbling of keys. She had to laugh at herself, because that sound always made her heartbeat faster. She felt like one of Pavlov’s dogs, as she knew that sound might mean that she would be allowed to get up and use the bathroom, which, in fact, she had to do soon. Shy listened as the key went into the lock and the door opened.

  Once she was untied, Shy got up and stretched. It felt good to get off that bed. Her back was starting to hurt. Shy started to reach for her blindfold.

  “Leave that on. We’re leaving.”

  “You’re letting me go?” Shy asked.

  “Don’t ask questions. Just do what you’re told, and we won’t have any problems.”

  “Can I at least use the bathroom first?”

  There was a long pause and then Shy’s blindfold was removed. There before her were the same two masked and armed men.

  “Make it quick.”

  Once Shy was finished in the bathroom, one of the men told her to put her hands behind her back. Shy complied with their request. After her hands were tied tight and a hood was placed over her head, one of the men said, “Let’s go.”

  They led her out of the room and down four flights of stairs. From the sounds that she heard and the heat, Shy knew she was outside. They walked a little farther then stopped. Shy heard a noise.

  I hope that’s not what I think it is.

  One of the men picked her up and laid her down on something hard. Then she heard the noise that she didn’t want to hear: the sound of the trunk slamming. From the time she heard them say that they were leaving, Shy was hoping that it didn’t mean she would be riding in the trunk.

  Oh well, just one more story to tell the grandchildren. That’s when Shy realized that her period was late.

  While she was riding in the trunk Shy thought about the men who were holding her captive. She had heard both of them speak. They sounded like they were black, but she couldn’t be sure. It made her a little more confident in her earlier assumption that she was no longer in Miami and with the South Americans. But where was she?

  When the car stopped and the trunk was opened, one of the men helped Shy out of the trunk and led her into a building. They walked for a while and then stopped. Shy heard an elevator door open. They went up a few floors, and she was led into a room, where she was untied, and her hood was removed. Both men backed out of the room and locked the door behind them.

  Shy looked around the room she was in. It was definitely a hotel room, but not the best hotel she’d ever been in. In fact, it was probably the worst. The first thing she did was try the door, but it was locked. Next, Shy went to the window to see if she could tell where she was or at least what floor she was on, but the window was bricked shut. She went into the bathroom.

  “At least it’s clean.” Shy walked over to the bed, picked up the remote control and turned on the television.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  At exactly five o’clock, a car pulled into a parking space directly in front of Impressions. The driver, a tall man dressed in jeans and a white tee-shirt got out and walked away.

  One half-hour later, a woman drove her car into the parking lot at Impressions, and she went inside for happy hour. She sat at the bar and ordered a drink.

  “Let me have a hypnotic, honey,” she flirted with the bartender. “You’re kinda cute, honey. What’s your name?”

  She sat at the bar drinking and flirted with just about every man who came near her. This went on for the next hour, until a man came in and she invited him to sit down next to her.

  The two of them sat at the bar, talking, laughing, dancing and drinking together for hours. At eleven thirty the man looked at his watch and whispered, “It’s time.”

  They got up from the bar and walked out of the club arm in arm, still talking and laughing. As they approached the front door they saw three cops along with the club’s security. As they got close enough for everybody to hear, they went into their act.

  “You sound like a fuckin’ fool,” she said as they passed the cops.

  “You got that right,” The man laughed. “I am a fuckin’ fool.”

  At the same time in the club’s office, Tara Wallace the club’s manager looked at her wa
tch and prepared to make her rounds. She put on her head set and called security.

  “Greg, meet me in the office. I wanna get my rounds done before the show starts,” Tara told him.

  “Yeah, P-Harlem is hot. I wanna see him too,” Greg said of that evening’s entertainment. “I’ll be there in a few.”

  Once Greg arrived, he and Tara went around to all five of the bars in the club and took money from each of the cash registers.

  Some time ago, Wanda had noticed that profits at the club were down, but the crowds had remained consistent. She brought it up during the monthly meeting with Mike and Bobby.

  “That means that somebody is stealing,” Bobby said.

  Wanda handed the income statement to Mike and he looked at the numbers.

  “Looks more like a whole lotta somebody’s stealing, Bob.”

  “Why don’t you have Tara go around during the night with security and count down the registers,” Wanda recommended. “That will at the very least give us better control of the money.”

  “If people are gonna steal from you, they’ll find a way to do it,” Mike said and passed the statement to Bobby. “But I think it’s a good idea.”

  “Glad that’s settled,” Bobby said and got ready to leave. “I got something that I need to take care of.”

  “Before you go, Bobby, there’s one more thing.”

  “What’s that?” Bobby asked impatiently.

  “This funeral home that you said we needed, Mike.”

  Mike and Bobby looked at one another. “What about it?” Mike asked.

  “It’s losing money. In fact it’s never made any money. I think that we should cut our losses and sell it,” Wanda advised.

  “No, Wanda,” Mike said. “That funeral home provides a valuable service to the community,” he said and followed Bobby out of Wanda’s office.

  After the registers were counted down, Tara went to the front door and counted that drawer down as well, before returning to the office just before the show started at midnight.

  “Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to Thursday night live at Impressions. Is everybody having a good time?” the MC asked the crowd, but he got only a weak response from the crowd. “I don’t believe you heard me, I said is everybody having a good time?” this time the crowd of nearly fifteen hundred people roared. “Is everybody ready for P-Harlem?” and the crowd roared again. “That’s good, that’s good, cause we gonna bring him out in just a minute. But, before we do that, I wanna remind you all to be sure to tip your bartenders and your waitresses, they are here working hard to take care of you, so you take care of them.”