Kamel stared out the passenger’s window of Apple’s luxury vehicle and had a few moments of reflection. He was a free man for now, but this situation was far from over. The assistant district attorney was going hard. He wanted Kamel to leave prison in a pine box. And then there was Kola. She had turned her back on him when he needed her most. As he sat in jail, he wondered if she had discovered his affair. And if so, did it give her provocation to just abandon him even when he had fallen on his sword for her? Kamel had wanted to contact Melinda when Kola fell through so she could post his bail, but he didn’t know her number either. He didn’t even remember her area code.
Kamel’s property was returned to him in the standard manila envelope. His watch, jewels, and cell phone connected him to his former life—his life when he had a wife, two children, a mistress, and hardly any worries. He draped his heavy chains around his neck and put on his Rolex and pinky ring and flipped down the visor mirror. Kamel looked at his reflection and wanted to get dropped off at his barber.
“Are you done?” Apple asked as she watched him with a side eye. “We gotta find Kola and go pay our respects. I want to know where she buried”—she turned to make sure Peaches was still listening to her music—“Junior and Sophia. Damn, I miss my lil’ man. And my crybaby Sophia . . . This is so fucked up. They didn’t even get a chance to experience life.”
“This shit is like a bad dream, Apple. Those kids gave me life . . . I lived for them.” He rubbed his beard and shook his head in disbelief. “All the fucked up people walking this earth and God wanna take them?”
Apple noticed that Kamel was laser-focused on reading his text messages. “Any missed calls from Eduardo?”
“Absolutely. Like a hundred.”
“What about from Kola?”
He shook his head. “Nah, she don’t give a fuck about me.”
“Stop whining, nigga!” Apple barked. She cut her eyes over her shoulders at Peaches and then lowered her voice. “Does it not strike you as strange that Kola is missing? What do you think that means?”
“It means that those meds ain’t working,” he dryly remarked. Now that Kamel was released his mood had shifted; he did a one-eighty right before Apple’s eyes. He was no longer humbled and grateful. Kamel was feeling the early stages of bitterness and resentment. He was in this situation because of Kola. Kamel loved his freedom and didn’t want to give it up now that he had some alone time to think these past few weeks.
Apple could see he wasn’t connecting her dots. “You not worried about Eduardo?”
Kamel blew out air. “I feel for him, but he’s just gonna have to handle it. Shit was an accident. I’ll call him and tell him that I’m sorry for his loss—”
“Sorry?” What part of the game is this? she thought. “You didn’t crash his car; you killed his kids.”
“Kola killed those kids,” he stated.
“Semantics to a drug lord,” Apple scoffed. “And if you value your life you better not tell Eduardo they’re dead, at least not until we find Kola so y’all can figure this out. She’ll know what to do.”
Kamel shook his head. The last thing he would do was take orders from the problem child. Apple was back in the game, and she thought she was everyone’s boss, dictating orders to underlings. He wasn’t on her payroll. Kamel had heard that they were calling her El Jefe, a name held for the top men in the Latin cartels.
“I’ma call Eduardo and tell him straight up, man-to-man, how shit went down. I’ll let him know that I left them alone, not Kola.”
“You actin’ like you can’t be touched!” Apple said. “And what about my sister? You’re not even worried that Eduardo could already know about Junior and Sophia and my sister could be dead?” She shrugged. “But those texts are important, though.”
Kamel was still reading all the angry texts from Melinda spewing her hurt and pain. He was suffocating in the car with Apple, never able to be around her for long. “Drop me off to my truck and let me handle my household.”
“You’s a stupid muthafucka!”
“Likewise.”
Apple and Kamel rode the rest of the drive in silence. She dropped him off to his house, and Kola’s car still wasn’t there. On the ride back to the city, she called Hood. “I’m going to text you my sister’s address. I need you and IG to have eyes on this sneaky nigga. Follow him, see where he goes. Something ain’t adding up. Kids are dead, my sister is missing. This muthafucka coulda went Charles Manson on everybody.”
“Who’s dead?” Hood wanted to know.
“Mind ya business!” Apple snapped. “Information is dispersed on a need-to-know basis.”
The sinking feeling in Apple’s gut that her sister was dead was solidified when Kamel called the next morning to tell her the incredulous news. Not only had Kola left him to rot in jail, but she didn’t claim the bodies of Junior and Sophia, so they were shipped off as indigents to Hart’s Island and placed in a mass burial plot. Potter’s Field was usually reserved for AIDS victims, the homeless, and indigent inmates. Eduardo Jr. and Sophia were the heirs to one of the richest men in Colombia, and they were resting in a pauper’s grave?
“Apple, I’m starting to get worried,” Kamel finally admitted. “Kola would have never allowed this to happen. Potter’s Field? Back in the day, I heard horror stories about that place.”
“You didn’t call Eduardo, did you?”
“Nah, I was trying to locate their graves so I could take pictures. I had decided to fly to Colombia with the pictures so he could see their final resting place. I thought the news should come in person.”
“Colombia? Nigga, you on bail,” Apple reminded him. “My bail!”
“Ain’t nobody sweating ya little bail money.”
Apple sucked her teeth. It’s always funky money, little money, petty money when it’s not your money. Borrowed money is the most insulted form of currency.
“I got the streets looking for my sister. When she’s not doped up, she’s a smart bitch. I’m hoping that the old Kola resurfaced and she went underground. I promise you that Eduardo is gonna put his murder game down hard if he finds out what happened, so I’ma warn you again, keep this shit on the D.L. until we find her. And when we find her, y’all better run. Let him think it’s a kidnapping and not a murder.” Apple was serious. “And don’t sweat any money. I have money stashed, and Kola can have it all.”
“You think my baby’s still alive?”
“I hope she is, Kamel. I don’t feel like I’ve lost her . . . I still feel our connection.”
When Apple said “connection,” Kamel instantly got it. He, too, connected with his brother.
“I’m going to work on getting their bodies exhumed and relocated so we can have a proper burial. It’s the city, so I was told that there is a lot of red tape. Scarpetta referred me to a lawyer that’s going to handle this for us so we good on that, but he said it could take as long as six months,” Kamel said.
“I want them buried next to Denise and Nichols. I think Kola would like that.”
“Nah, Apple. Eduardo would want something more substantial like a mausoleum, something that represents royalty and lasts for centuries bearing his last name. Anything less than that will be an insult.”
“You still hell-bent on telling this man! You’re so stubborn, just like your brother. When he got something in his head, he wouldn’t give up.”
“Eduardo is a reasonable, levelheaded man. He was going to murder Kola and me, but I kicked it, real talk, and he kept it one-hundred. I got this, Apple. All we need to do is find Kola and bury Junior and Sophia in some flashy shit like granite and terracotta stone, maybe have their pictures etched on the wall. I’m telling you I can handle this. The lie would be the mistake, the insult. Trust me, I know how he thinks.”
“You think you know him, do you?” she chuckled. “I saw him cut a man that was tied up in his basement
in half with a chainsaw and then come out and fuck me with my sister upstairs oblivious to it all.”
“I’m a grown man, Apple. I’m not running from no one. I bus’ my gun too.”
“A’ight, gangsta. I’ve said my piece.”
30
Hood and IG sat outside a small bungalow in Yonkers, New York. The white vinyl siding with hunter green shutters was quaint and cookie-cutter cute. They had followed Kamel to this same location two nights in a row. Other than this place, he went to see his lawyer and went down to the county morgue. They both felt it was time to update Apple.
“We got an address for you,” Hood said. “I just sent you a text.”
Apple pulled up on the block just after midnight—creeping hours. She had left Peaches with Tokyo, so her mind was clear to focus on this situation. She circled a few times and then parked a few blocks over and walked back under the cloak of darkness. She slid in the backseat of Hood’s truck.
“What’s good? What’s going on here?”
Hood said, “He’s stayed overnight here twice, so we know there’s a bitch inside. She ain’t come out all weekend, though. She just in there getting fucked.”
“Just how I like ’em.” IG snickered.
“How y’all know it’s a woman who lives here?” Apple didn’t want to believe that Kamel was cheating on her sister. They were married, and that should mean something. Why say the vows if you’re going to live like a single man? “This could be a trap house.”
“Oh, he trap?”
Apple didn’t answer. Kamel had retired years ago. Her silence didn’t go unnoticed. IG said, “This ain’t no trap house. We laid up on this crib for days, and there’s no movement whatsoever. This the smash house.”
Apple stared at Kamel’s truck indifferently. Her sister was missing, and this nigga was fucking? She laid out on the backseat and said, “Wake me up when he leaves.”
Seven hours later, she felt a few taps to her legs. “App, get up. That nigga just left.”
Groggily she pulled her eyes open and sat up. She sat up straight and was quiet for a few minutes. Apple yawned and tried to get her bearings. Her tart breath circulated throughout the SUV. It was too early for murder. She wanted a coffee and something sweet to eat.
“I would kill for a Krispy Kreme donut and caramel latte.”
They didn’t respond. Both were slightly aggravated that she had slept through the stakeout, but she was the boss, El Jefe as she liked to be called.
“You ready?” Hood asked as he looked at her through the rearview.
“Always.” Apple checked her .45 Glock—one in the chamber—and they all exited the vehicle and cut through a neighbor’s yard and snaked through to the back door of the residence. Their guns were drawn, and Hood did the honors. Hood lifted his knee in the air to give himself some force and propelled his foot forward, slamming against the door with pure power, leveling it. Quickly, they charged inside.
“Oh my god!” Melinda shrieked. “What’s happening?”
When Apple saw it was a woman, she bashed her in the face with the butt of her gun. Melinda’s head jerked, and she crumbled to the ground. Her body was limp as Apple grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her to the living room and told her to “Sit down and shut the fuck up!”
IG and Hood did a preliminary search of the property to make sure there weren’t any more people. Melinda was holding the side of her face. Her lip was split open, heavily bleeding onto her silk shirt. Her eyes searched for understanding at the thugs.
“I have money, jewelry, televisions. Take what you want and leave.”
Apple looked closely into the pretty woman’s face. She was the exact opposite of her sister. Kola had light skin, she had dark. Kola was petite and curvy, she was tall and thick. Kola’s hair was long and layered, her hair was short and natural. The very essence of this woman angered Apple because she was confused. Kamel had a type, so this meant that she wasn’t random, a clone to bust a nut in. This said that she had captured his attention, maybe something serious. Was she enough to kill for? Did Kamel murder her sister for this bitch and make it seem like Eduardo had a hand in her disappearance? Apple’s eyes scanned her wall, and the photo of her and Kamel boo’d up gave her confirmation.
“We don’t want ya shit,” Apple said.
Melinda was frozen in fear. If this wasn’t a robbery, was it rape? Her eyes darted toward the two thugs, and she began to visibly shake. “Please, God, no . . . don’t rape me,” she pleaded.
“Bitch, please,” IG said, insulted.
Apple grabbed a chair and sat in front of her. “What’s your name?”
“My name?” She was so frightened that she blurted out her full government. “Melinda Mary Wilson.”
“What’s up with you and Kamel?”
“Kola?”
Apple wanted to slap the shit out of her. But she wanted to understand who her brother-in-law was. His wife was missing, presumably dead, and he was fucking this whore?
“Yes. What did Kamel tell you about me?”
“Your beef should be with your husband, not me.”
“So he told you we were married?” Apple asked. “You know you’re fucking a married man?”
Melinda was beyond frightened. She knew she fucked up. “He said that you two were getting divorced.”
“Oh, did he?” Apple said sarcastically. Flashbacks to the Scott and Laci Petterson story felt eerily parallel to this situation. “What else was he supposed to say?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“He showed you divorce papers?”
“Well, no, but—”
“What do you do for a living?”
“What?”
“Don’t make me ask you twice or I will knock all your teeth out your mouth. Your whole front row will be Chiclets.”
“I’m an investment banker.”
“Oh, an educated woman who knows how to make money. Did you buy this house or did my husband?”
“I bought it.”
“Listen carefully, and you better not lie to me. How long has this been going on?”
“Nearly a year.”
“Since he said we’re divorcing, are y’all getting married?”
“Why are you torturing yourself asking these questions? Whatever I say will hurt you, and I don’t want to be hurtful. It just happened with us.”
“Does he love you?”
She whispered, “Yes.”
Apple placed her hand to her ear. “What? I can’t hear you? Does my husband love you?”
“I don’t know—no, he doesn’t. He loves you. So please just go. I promise I’ll leave him alone.”
“You would do that for me? From today moving forward, you would unfuck my husband?”
Melinda cried hysterically. She didn’t know what she had gotten herself into, but she knew that an affair didn’t warrant death. The look in the female’s eyes was pure evil. Melinda looked at the two henchmen, threateningly giving her hard stares as they clutched the largest weapons she had ever seen.
All her life, Melinda was a good girl, right until she met Kamel. Her mind told her to run the moment he told her he was married, but then he kicked game, so her heart told her to trust him. Give him a chance. Melinda knew he was a bad boy; his swagger was exhilarating. When he would remove his pistol from his shoulder holster and place it on her nightstand, she felt protected, almost invincible. Now, where was he when she needed him? How could he allow this to happen? They had made love all weekend and to prove his love to her he said he would stay overnight. And he did. Melinda thought that Kola was finally out of the picture, that they were getting divorced, and then this happened. She was only starting her thirties. She didn’t want to die. Her death would shatter her parents. Melinda begged for her life.
“Please, don’t . . . kill . . . me
. I’m sorry, Kola. I’m so, so, so, sorry!”
“Shhhhh,” Apple said. “I’m not going to kill you.”
Melinda wanted to believe her. She searched her assailant’s eyes for truth and compassion and thought she had found it. Her wails turned into sobs and then soft whimpers.
Apple nodded, and IG placed a plastic bag over her head and began to smother her while Apple sat inches away. Apple grabbed Melinda’s hands as she tried to wiggle free.
“Melinda, stop struggling. You’re going to die today, sweetie. But take comfort that Kamel may be joining you soon. Or not—I haven’t decided yet.”
Apple moved closer as Melinda succumbed to her lack of oxygen. She wanted the last face this bitch saw to be hers. The same face as Kola’s.
31
Kamel had been calling Melinda repeatedly, but it kept going to voicemail. With Kola gone, he could rock up to Melinda’s whenever he wanted. Tonight he came through earlier than usual to surprise her. He knew he was gambling with his feelings. What if she had another nigga there? Kamel pulled up on the block and her car was there. However, when he knocked, she didn’t come to the door. Kamel was territorial and overnight had become possessive over a woman he didn’t have a claim to. He pulled his Glock from his waist and crept around back. Kamel didn’t know what he would do if he found her fucking another man, but it didn’t stop him from moving forward. The broken glass caused his heart to hitch. Instinctively he went in, not sure of what he would find.
Melinda was in her bed under the covers. Kamel gripped his pistol as his eyes darted around her small home. He didn’t know if someone was still there or if this was an ambush or a petty burglary, but he couldn’t leave without knowing she was okay. He called her name, “Melinda?”
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