Baddest Apple

by Nisa Santiago

  As far as he was concerned, he was doing a bad thing to get something good done.

  Apple opened the door cautiously. If an alarm went off, she would turn around and quickly exit. A couple steps into Queenie’s apartment, and Apple was set upon by numerous cats. The stench of cat urine assaulted her nostrils when she entered the premises. Apple was aghast but not surprised that the weird drug queenpin would live like this. The biggest challenge that Apple had was to not take all those cats into the bathroom and drown them. They needed to be alive when their owner entered or else she would know something was amiss. Apple stopped at Queenie’s altar and shook her head. Apple didn’t know who she had been dealing with all this time. Was she mentally unstable? What Apple stared at wasn’t normal by anyone’s stretch of the imagination.

  She wasn’t in Queenie’s apartment for long before she heard keys jangling. Apple crouched low behind one of the massive pieces of furniture and screwed the silencer on her gun. From her position, she saw Queenie enter the apartment, lean down and pat one of her cats on the head, and toss her keys on a side table. Queenie clicked on her lights, kicked off her shoes, and placed her coat and pocketbook in the hallway closet, oblivious that she wasn’t alone.

  Apple had to steady her breathing. Her anger was palpable, and a massive mountain of hate was about to finally erupt. Queenie walked and stood before her altar, and with her right hand, she did an air cross. The gun smashing into the back of her head pushed Queenie forward. She fell into her altar and candles, statues, and other religious artifacts came crashing to the floor—broken glass flew everywhere. Queenie spun around to face her assailant and instantly locked eyes with Apple.

  “Who let you—”

  Apple smashed the gun into Queenie’s face once again, wanting to inflict pain before she ended their ongoing feud. Queenie slipped on the glass, cutting up her bare feet, and fell into Apple. Queenie’s weight caused Apple to take a couple steps back, and subsequently, she tripped over the coffee table in the cluttered apartment. Apple’s pistol fell, and Queenie saw an opening and lunged for it. The two struggled in the deathmatch for dominance. Pound for pound, punches were exchanged as the females tussled on the ground in a fight for their lives. Apple quickly regained control of her adversary. With her knee pressed firmly into Queenie’s chest, Apple repeatedly smashed her fists into her face until she was unrecognizable. Apple was winded, but Queenie still wasn’t beaten. She wiggled under Apple, struggling to free herself from Apple’s grasp. Apple saw her gun about five feet away and contemplated how she wanted to finally end this when her hands instinctually wrapped around Queenie’s neck and squeezed.

  As Apple’s grip tightened, Queenie tried to pull Apple’s hands off of her, but she had little strength left. Angry eyes bored into frightened eyes as Apple watched the life slip away, once and for good, from Queenie. The head of the L.E.S. Crips was finally dead.

  Apple pushed herself off of Queenie and took several minutes to calm down. Her breathing was erratic, and both her hands were swollen and in immense pain. The cats that had run away and hidden while the battle ensued had now come back into the living room and brushed their bodies up against their dead owner, sensing her fate.

  Apple gathered her breath and her gun and quietly left the residence. She could now exhale. All her enemies were now dead, and she could resume her life without having to look over her shoulders.

  39

  Forty-Five days later

  It was shortly after six in the morning, and Apple had just hung up FaceTime with Touch. Her man was in Vegas, making a killing. Touch had recovered from his injuries, buried his father once police located and identified his body as a victim of an apparent robbery, and retired from his agency. Touch was now fully committed to poker, but he couldn’t seem to persuade Apple to let go of her illegal empire.

  The morning was quiet as Apple fixed herself a pot of coffee and put food down for Girlie, who had become a constant fixture at her home when Touch was out of town. Peaches and Tokyo were asleep in their respective rooms, so she figured she had at least another hour of solitude.

  The hard knock on her front door sounded familiar, but Apple was sure there had to be some mistake. It couldn’t be. And then again, there was a thunderous, consistent bang followed by, “Police! Open up!”

  Apple instantly worried about Kola hiding out in a nuthouse. Did she do something to herself? Was she dead? Had Eduardo killed her? So many thoughts entered her mind as she walked to open the door. Apple trembled with fear of hearing the news. She couldn’t lose another sister.

  “Apple Evans?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re under arrest for the first-degree murder of Queenie Inga Grimes.”

  Apple gasped. “What?”

  “Turn around and place your hands behind your back. You have the right to remain silent . . .,” the detective spewed.

  “Just take me, please. I don’t want my daughter to see this shit.”

  The detectives had no intention of wrapping this up. They wanted to make this as painful, embarrassing, and humiliating as they could. There needed to be a spectacle for what was done to Queenie Grimes. Her position as the head of the L.E.S. Crips was a nonfactor to them.

  Tokyo heard the commotion and sprung into action. Apple had two guns in the house, her 9mm and a .45 she kept in Tokyo’s room away from Peaches. Tokyo wiped the guns down and in a plastic bag dropped them out her window which faced the back courtyard. And then she groggily came out of the room rubbing her eyes.

  “What’s going on?”

  The two detectives, Whitehouse and Bennett, were shocked to see another female; she wasn’t on the lease. Startled, Bennett removed his holstered gun and pointed it toward Tokyo. He screamed, “Get the fuck over here now!”

  “Oh my god, what are you doing!” Apple screamed. “My daughter’s here. Why you got your gun out?”

  Tokyo threw her hands up to surrender and was quickly detained and manhandled. She, too, was handcuffed, and she and Apple were thrown on the couch. Apple shot Tokyo a worried glance and relived the event that led to her arrest. How was she caught? She wore gloves, so no fingerprints. She had paid off the superintendent who had given her access to the apartment. Apple was sure that he wouldn’t implicate himself, and he didn’t know who she was. And, most important, she had checked for an alarm system.

  Apple pleaded again. “Can you take me to the precinct so I can be processed and charged? I said my daughter is in her room asleep.”

  Detective Whitehouse pulled a warrant from out of his back pocket. “I don’t give a fuck what you want. We have a warrant to search the premises, so this won’t be buttoned up on your timeline.” He glared at Apple with contempt and then added, “You should have thought about your daughter before you murdered a woman in cold blood.”

  Apple felt fucked. She knew they would find her weapons, and both had bodies on them, especially her 9mm. It was the same one she had in South Beach. Apple knew better than to keep dirty guns. It was a cardinal rule that she had disregarded.

  Another hard bang on her door and a squad of uniformed police officers were let in carrying coffee cups and scowls. They were there to help with the search warrant. Everyone shot dirty looks at the suspects as Tokyo sat handcuffed, wondering why she was being treated like a criminal.

  Law enforcement conversed with themselves about how to effectively execute the warrant when all voices came to a halt. Peaches came walking out of her room on her tippy-toes like a ballerina, something she had recently started doing, looking for her mother with Girlie by her side. With wide eyes, she looked into everyone’s face and asked, “Where’s my mommy?”

  “Peaches,” Apple called out. “I’m here.”

  Peaches tried to walk toward her mother’s voice when an overzealous officer stepped in front of her, blocking her path. He looked to Whitehouse, who was in charge, and Whitehouse said
, “Let her through.”

  Peaches squeezed on the couch, wedged herself between her mother and Tokyo, and called Girlie over. Girlie growled low, barked a few times at the unknown men, and then happily came and lay under Peaches’s feet.

  “Some guard dog you are,” Apple said, and Peaches just laughed.

  Eventually, Apple and Tokyo—both still handcuffed—along with Peaches and Girlie were placed outside Apple’s apartment on the floor under the watchful eyes of an officer. This act embarrassed them as neighbors came out of their apartments on their way to work to see this spectacle. Apple had just moved in, and it appeared she would be moving out.

  Finally, Tokyo whispered and told Apple what she had done with the guns. Apple was so relieved that she knew she would bless her financially for thinking on her feet. Even if the officers found the guns outside, the chain of custody had been broken. They could never pin them on Apple.

  Three hours later, the search warrant turned up fruitless. Tokyo was released from detainment, and Apple was arrested on first-degree murder charges.

  40

  One year later

  Apple had fought the biggest fight of her life trying to beat this murder charge. She hired a dream team, a gaggle of lawyers with a combined two hundred years of experience, hoping to get acquitted. Touch had proven himself to be a winner. He was the rock she needed and the glue that helped keep her together when she wanted to fall apart. The thought of going to jail for the rest of her life and only seeing Peaches on jailhouse visits had frightened the woman with the lion’s heart.

  Kola had signed herself out of the custody of the state so she could be there for her sister. When Apple called to tell her she was arrested for murder, she could hear the panic in her voice, and the victim was the same woman that Kola had begged Apple to not pursue. However, Kola didn’t come with the “I told you so.” Instead she did whatever she could, attended each meeting Apple had with her attorneys, and was a beacon of positivity feeding her sister strength and optimism even though the circumstance seemed bleak.

  Cartier was also there for Apple with her new baby, Caviar, and a new relationship on full display with Caesar Mingo. She had gone through a lot with Harlem, a younger female who Cartier had taken in off the streets and who eventually had an affair with Cartier’s husband. Head was recently laid to rest, yet Cartier still unselfishly put her issues aside to support her friend. Cartier was a treasure trove of wisdom, having been in Apple’s position when she was still a teenager.

  The Mingo and Helguero cartels also kept a close eye on Apple. A person in her position facing life behind bars could have an inclination that snitching for a better deal was an option. But their men assured them that Apple had made no deals. She was a standup soldier and was handling her situation like a real gangstress.

  Turns out that Nerd and Queenie reached from beyond the grave and had the last laugh. Nerd had his parents’ home hard-wired with surveillance cameras, but Queenie was a clever one, and she had Nerd connect a wireless camera system that was inconspicuously placed around her house, hidden in places such as her altar. The footage showed Apple enter the apartment with a key. The police couldn’t disprove that Queenie hadn’t given the key to Apple, which Apple’s attorney had alleged. The cameras also showed Apple lying in wait for Queenie to arrive. The last piece of clear footage was Apple hitting Queenie on the head with a gun before a fight ensued. When the altar was knocked over the actual murder wasn’t captured. Finally, it showed Apple exiting the residence.

  If she took this case to trial, Apple’s dream team would argue self-defense. They would be hard-pressed to prove it, so when a twenty-year plea deal was offered, Apple jumped at the chance to plead guilty. With good time she could be out in fourteen years. She would be approximately early forties, still young enough to have a good life.

  Touch promised to do the time with her and also help Kola take care of Peaches, but Apple knew those were the words of today. Tomorrow would be another story.

  There wasn’t a dry eye inside the small room that Apple, Kola, Peaches, Touch, Cartier, Tokyo, Hood, and IG sat in. Apple had about thirty minutes before she would go before the judge and get sentenced. Her lawyers were already inside the courtroom doing preliminary paperwork with the prosecutors so Apple’s transfer into state custody could go smoothly.

  Kola needed alone time with her sister and requested that everyone meet them inside the courtroom. Apple gave everyone tight embraces and quick kisses on their cheeks. Peaches got the most affection, but the small child didn’t understand much of what was happening.

  Apple took one last look at everyone and said, “See y’all in twenty thirty-three.”

  Epilogue

  Apple stood in front of the judge and read the statement that her attorney had prepared for her. In it, she apologized for her actions and confessed her guilt. But she also announced that she was a better person now, and would work on rehabilitation while doing her time and vowed to do acts of benevolence upon her release. The judge scowled down at her. He belittled and reprimanded her. There was no excuse for her actions—for murder, especially of that brutality. She was sentenced to twenty years, and the bailiffs were ordered to immediately take her into custody.

  Apple was sentenced, but unbeknownst to the court and everyone else except Peaches, Kola was handcuffed and led away to do her sister’s time. When Kola asked everyone to leave the room, she broached the subject of trading places. Apple was vehemently against allowing Kola to do time for a crime she had done, but her sister was aggressive with her stance.

  “I’m not gonna keep explaining why we need to do this,” Kola griped. “Think of your daughter. Peaches needs you—not me. If you say no, then I’m returning back to my psychiatric facility because you know the only other option is Eduardo and I’d die before I ever go back to Colombia. Look, I want the best for my niece, and with Touch by your side—and if you promise to leave the streets alone—then Peaches has a chance to live the life that we never did. If you keep up this lifestyle, then I promise Peaches will follow in your footsteps. You’ll have raised a street bitch, and you’ll only have yourself to blame!”

  Apple was still resisting.

  “I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t think I could handle it. And I’ll work on my mental health while I’m in there. Just promise to visit and bring my niece at least once a month. Can you handle my demands?”

  Apple nodded.

  “Say it, Apple. Say you’ll get out of the game!”

  Apple thought about what her sister was sacrificing and said, “I will. I’ll get out of the game starting today. I won’t let you down, Kola. My hand up to God, I’ll go legit.”

  The twins switched clothing, and Apple took her bun down while Kola styled her loose hair correctly. Apple called everyone back into the room so they could all walk out in a crowd to help camouflage the switch. When everyone filed into the waiting area, Peaches had the most quizzical look on her face when Kola bent down and scooped her up, pretending to be Apple.

  As they walked into the courtroom, Peaches whispered in Kola’s ear, “Auntie Kola, we playing a game?”

  Kola nodded and put her index finger to her lips for secrecy.

  Kola standing as Apple was sentenced and led away as the real Apple cried real tears for her sister’s sacrifice and departure. Kola was stoic as she was led away with her head up. Anything for family.

  With a new lease on life, Apple said to her protégé, “Tokyo, pack ya shit!”

  After everything Cartier had gone through with having two women living under her roof with her man, Apple wouldn’t repeat that same mistake. Apple was who she’d always be: heartless, vindictive, petty, strong, sensitive, loving, loyal, cheap, generous. She was the Queen of New York—Harlem’s baddest chick—but she’d never be the chick who put her man in the position to fuck the next bitch.

  With her career in drugs on hold for
the next decade, at least until Kola came home, Apple and Touch decided to take Peaches on a long Disney cruise as they continued to bond as a family. The couple was inside Touch’s bland apartment waiting on their Uber to take them to the airport when Apple said, “C’mere.”

  Touch walked over to his woman, and she wrapped white first aid tape around his ring finger.

  He smiled. “What’s this?”

  “This is me askin’ you to become Malcolm Xavier Evans.”

  “Evans, huh? If I say yes, you need to know that it’s forever. I don’t believe in divorce.”

  Apple grinned. “I invented till death do us part.”

  The stunning acquittals of Scott and Layla West resonate throughout the justice system, and the powerful cartels take notice.

  The Wests were untouchable and their drug empire is still intact, but family ties begin to unravel.

  New mom Lucky has a lot on her shoulders as she continues to deceive the head of the Juarez cartel. Partnering with her twin brothers, Lucky lines up the pieces on the chessboard, but she underestimates the king and queen.