by Tysha
C-Lok was relieved to see his sister looking well. He’d been worried about Shy. Anyone could easily break under all the stress Shy had going on in her life but she faced every issue like a champ. Bossy had tried to reassure C-Lok that Shy would be fine but he was always skeptical. Now, C-Lok would be able to rest easily knowing his sister had walked through hell and survived.
“This meeting is long overdue,” C-Lok said as he rolled a blunt.
“My first priority was the twins. They’ve both healed well and are out and about so I can tend to my own business now,” Shy explained.
“It’s no big deal. We just have to get this out of the way,” Bossy added.
“I was surprised you went ahead with Rae. I just knew you’d leave that one to me. The results are perfect so I’m not complaining.” Shy smiled. She’d wanted to punish Raequan for his sins against her boys. Her disappointment faded away when she found out Raequan was paralyzed. It was exactly what he deserved. Death would have been too kind.
“What are you talking about?” Bossy asked, confused.
“I didn’t order that hit,” C-Lok assured Shy.
“Yes, you did. I didn’t put that order in either. What’s going on?” Shy wondered.
“Shy, you had a lot going on these last few months. You could have assigned it and just forgotten about it,” C-Lok said.
“I’d remember putting that nigga down, C; don’t even play me like that.” Shy sounded annoyed.
“Before you two get into an argument, let’s figure this out,” Bossy calmly suggested. “Since the order didn’t come from us, we have to figure out who did it.”
Being the bosses, C-Lok, Bossy, and Shy were the only ones powerful enough to order a hit. They were clueless as to who would go over their heads and shoot Raequan. Not that they weren’t pleased with the results, but there was a method to their madness and it had to stay in place.
“What about Big Black?”
“Shy, he’s been back in North Carolina for a while now. There’s business he needed to attend to. Anyway, Black would’ve come to one of us before he took things into his own hands,” Bossy rationalized.
“Somebody’s off the beaten path and needs to be pulled back. We need to find out who it is,” C-Lok said.
“Maybe it was just a drug deal gone badly. Raequan is known for ripping people off,” Shy reasoned. Beside the fact that someone had broken the order of the game, Shy was thankful to whoever put Raequan on his back. That’s exactly where she wanted him to be for the rest of his miserable life. She wanted to shake the hand of Raequan’s shooter and give him a medal.
“What do you want to do about Cherise?” Bossy inquired.
“I’ll take care of that bitch. Cherise is going through it as we speak. I told her about Raequan’s betrayal. Her ass is probably going crazy.” Shy smiled.
“You are letting her live?” C-Lok was surprised.
“Hell no! I’m letting her live with the pain of knowing her only child hates her so much that he’d put her life at risk. The same child that needs someone to wipe his ass for him. Having a child deprived of a life and still be alive has to be the second most devastating pain for a mother. Let the bitch marinate for a minute,” said Shy with disgust.
Just like the initial witness interviews, people had been clear that Dwayne Willis’s car was the aggressor. Had it not been for his actions, the mother and her children would be alive. The final step in putting the matter away was to re-interview Monica, Prince, Brianna, and Jayden. Detective Iverson hated to make the kids relive the tragic situation but he had a job to do.
The detectives had called ahead so Shy was expecting their visit. Detective Iverson had explained why they needed to talk with the kids again. Shy wasn’t happy about it but reluctantly agreed to the meeting. To help things move along, she’d made sure Brianna and Monica would be at her house. She wanted the entire situation put to rest. All of the kids had enough to deal with and they wanted to forget about what happened. Prince was the only one who’d been in the car who was accustomed to bullets flying over his head.
“Come on in.” Shy welcomed the detectives.
“Thank you again for agreeing to this, we know it’s an inconvenience,” Detective Selma said.
“My only stipulation is that I sit in on each interview. You can speak to them individually back here in our family room. Who do you want to talk with first?”
“The order doesn’t matter,” Detective Iverson replied.
Brianna looked scared to death. Her facial expression reminded Detective Selma of a child startled awake by a nightmare. That was exactly how Brianna felt. She’d been having nightmares about the incident regularly. Brianna tried relentlessly not to think about that life-threatening day. Having Shy hold her hand during the police interview helped Brianna tremendously. She was pleased when Detective Iverson said they were finished with her.
“Brianna, we’re sorry you had to relive that day. I know something like this can be traumatizing, so you may want to consider talking to a professional. It can be very helpful,” Detective Selma said sincerely.
Jayden gave Brianna a tight hug. He had done his best to comfort her but nothing seemed to help. Sadness was written all over her face. He understood how she was feeling. Brianna wept on Jayden’s shoulder.
“I can’t do this again. Jay, I’m tired.”
“You won’t have to, I promise,” Jayden said and followed up his words with a gentle kiss on her forehead.
Prince sat next to his mother with an attitude. He felt bad about the deaths of that lady and her kids but that tragedy did not belong on his shoulders. Dwayne was a bitch-ass nigga who’d committed suicide as far as Prince was concerned.
“By the time Monica noticed that we were being followed, it was too late. That nigga sped up and started blasting. My brother, my girl, his girl, and my baby sister were in the car. I did what had to be done,” Prince said without emotion.
“Were you expecting trouble? I mean, why have a gun in the car?”
“Detective Iverson, man, I’d rather the police catch me with it than for some nigga on the street to catch me without it,” Prince replied matter-of-factly.
“It’s odd to me that you’d have a gun in the car having just been released from the hospital,” Detective Iverson responded. He kept his voice at a monotone level. The last thing he wanted was for the interviews to sound like interrogation.
“I used to stay strapped. You know the saying, its better the police catch you with it than for a nigga on the streets to catch me without it? That’s a street law I always held strong to,” Prince stated honestly. His mother gave him a disapproving look. She demanded her children speak according to the occasion.
Prince had long ago grown tired of the police hanging around. He was itching to get back in the game but their constant presence made his drug delivery too risky. Anyway, he was not responsible for the outcome of that drive-by. His statement was over. Without permission, Prince stood up and left the room. He’d deal with his mother’s anger later; as for now, the police could kiss his ass.
The detectives made no qualms about Prince ending his interview. They did have compassion for them all but they had a job to do.
Minutes later, Jayden entered the family room looking upset. He’d left Brianna in his room lying across his bed. The only time she seemed to get any rest was when he held her. Jayden didn’t appreciate having to leave his girl alone. His physical appearance and attitude made the detectives think Prince had returned.
“Prince, we get that you want this matter closed but—” Detective Selma was interrupted.
“I’m not Prince,” Jayden spat.
Shy felt her son’s irritation. She rubbed his back in attempt to calm him down. Jayden was never one to run the streets. He’d never pulled a trigger in his life. His focus had always been school, sports, and video games.
Jayden’s interview lasted fifteen minutes. Instead of being asked the same questions as his last interview, J
ayden narrated everything he remembered. They were wasting time that he did not have. He had to get back to Brianna. “I’ll send Monica in.” Jayden left the room but not before being excused.
“Hold off on that for a minute, I need to discuss something with your mother,” said Detective Iverson. Having mistaken Jayden for Prince gave him an idea. If Shy agreed to it, the McGee family would be free to move on from this tragedy.
The twins stood in a midsized room with four other teenagers of their same height and build. They all wore simple white T-shirts, dark jeans, and sported Caesar haircuts. A number hung around the necks of everyone in the brightly lit room. An officer stood on the far wall staring at Prince and Jayden. He was trying to figure out who was who. Soon, the five witnesses to what happened that unfortunate day would do the same.
Shy had agreed to the police line on one condition. Their lawyer had to be present. Detective Iverson was certain this issue would result in the case being closed. Shy waited outside the room with Monica by her side. Brianna was still emotionally fragile so Shy asked her to babysit Princess instead of dealing with this process. Brianna was relieved she didn’t have to be there.
Tommy Jackson Jr. served as the twins’ legal counsel. He was pleased with the lineup. All of the boys resembled one another. The twins were mirror images of each other. He was certain things would go in the McGee family’s favor.
Prosecutor Marianne Boyce wanted the case in a courtroom. It was an election year and prosecuting this high profile case would help her become a judge for sure. Detective Iverson knew Mrs. Boyce was out for blood. She didn’t care if the defendant was guilty. Detective Iverson felt the McGee family had already been through a lifetime of sorrow; he was determined to close the case.
“All of the witnesses are ready. Let’s start,” Detective Selma announced.
The first witness was a senior citizen of Hispanic descent who’d been walking his dog at the time of the car chase.
“Okay, Mr. Sanchez, look at the boys and see if you recognize who was shooting the gun. Take your time.” Detective Iverson coaxed him along.
After intense concentration, Mr. Sanchez was unable to say with certainty who had returned fire.
“No, sorry, son. I can’t point him out. They all look alike. Two even look like twins. Why are you doing this anyway? They were only protecting themselves. That young man in the other car was the aggressor,” Mr. Sanchez said to everyone in the room.
“I suspect the remaining four will have the identical result.” Mr. Jackson smiled.
“Let’s just get through this, shall we?” Mrs. Boyce snidely said.
Witness number two had been driving down in the opposite direction of the two cars. She feared one of the speeding vehicles would crash right into her car. Bianca James was so sure she’d be killed, she confessed her sins and prayed for a quick death.
“I can’t say for sure but it could’ve been numbers two and five. There’s no way I’ll be able to tell those twins apart but they were both in the second car,” Ms. James said with little emotion.
“Thank you for your time, Ms. James. You’re free to go,” Detective Selma said as she opened the door for her exit.
David Smith was a nineteen-year-old college student headed for the same bus stop Dwayne crashed into. He did not want to be involved until Detective Iverson made him feel guilty for not speaking up for the kids who were killed. His mother supported his decision either way. David just wanted it all to go away.
“Yeah, the twins were in the second car. Like I’ve been telling y’all, I cannot tell them apart. I don’t know which one returned fire to that man who died. What I can say for sure is they didn’t start the chase,” David said, irritated.
“Look again and take your time,” Mrs. Boyce requested.
“Ma’am, I don’t know what you want me to say but for the last time, I do not know.” David instructed the detectives not to contact him again. His duty was done.
“This is just a waste of time. We all know what’s behind this but you don’t have a case against my clients,” Mr. Jackson said to Mrs. Boyce.
“Not so fast; we have two more witnesses.” Mrs. Boyce tried to save face. She couldn’t identify Prince from Jayden but wished for a miracle.
“NaTasha Douglas is next. She drove behind the cars and had a clear view of everything that happened,” Detective Selma announced.
NaTasha entered the room popping on a stick of gum. She’d just had blue and yellow hair sewn into her tracks and wanted to go show off the new look. One look at her and Mrs. Boyce knew her case was sinking fast.
“There are some fine-ass men looking at me,” NaTasha responded to the lineup with curiosity in her voice.
“They can’t see you, Miss Douglas.” Detective Iverson laughed at the young woman.
“That’s too bad ’cause numbers two, four, and five can get it.” NaTasha laughed but was serious. “Can I leave my number for them?”
“Miss Douglas, please focus,” Mrs. Boyce said, irritated.
NaTasha looked at Mrs. Boyce as if she were Satan himself. She rolled her eyes at the stuck-up woman and turned back around.
“Yeah, whatever. Number two and five are the fine-ass twins dat that nigga was shooting at. If I was them, I would’ve shot back too. It’s a shame about the lady and her kids but dude got what he deserved. Now is that it? I got get ready for da club tonight.”
Prince and Jayden stood behind the glass, irate. In their entire lives, not one stranger had been able to tell them apart. Even when Prince sported braids and Jayden stayed lined up, they were always mistaken for one another so they thought the idea of a line-up was great. After an hour of standing in one spot they had grown tired and needed to rest.
Detective Iverson left the room and quickly returned with the last witness. Carla Austin had been sitting on her porch smoking a cigarette when the crash took place. She lied to the police at her initial interview hours after the accident. Getting involved in a shooting could have put her life in danger. The police knew she was lying. They were relentless in pulling a statement out of her when all she wanted was to be left alone. Here she was again, being bullied into going against her will. Carla wasn’t afraid anymore; thanks to the police harassment, she was angry.
“So what? Y’all expect me to identify the shooter or something?” Carla asked, incensed.
“Yes, Miss Austin, take your time and look at each one of their faces. Tell us the number of the person shooting the day of that tragedy.” Mrs. Boyce tried to sound polite.
Carla wasn’t falling for it. No matter what, her involvement in that mess was coming to an end right there and then.
“He’s not there,” Carla blurted out.
“Miss Austin, just take a—” Detective Selma began.
“I said he ain’t there, but I do know where you can find him,” Carla barked snidely.
“Where is the shooter?” Detective Iverson asked, somewhat amused by the witness’s demeanor.
“Six feet under,” Carla replied.
“Miss Austin, please, you are starting to wear my nerves. We need you to identify the shooter of the Bonneville. This will all be over after your corporation,” Mrs. Boyce said demandingly.
“The driver of the other car pulls up on that Bonneville and chased them down. He started shooting and the other car didn’t respond for a few seconds. Why are you so bent on fucking up those kids’ lives? Go press charges against the dead man and while you’re at it, kiss my ass!” Carla blared before walking out of the room.
Everyone in the room was stunned by the witness’s outburst. Mrs. Boyce seemed to be alone in her exasperation. Detective Iverson was relieved he would be able to close the case. He knew the right thing needed to be done by the McGee family. They had a right to put the incident behind them and move forward. Life so far had tried them in every emotional way possible.
“It seems we’re done here. No eyewitness means no charges can be filed. I’ll be taking my clients home and an
y further harassment by the prosecutor’s office will result in the biggest lawsuit in the history of this city. It will become a nationwide news story. Now, you all have a pleasant day.” Mr. Jackson bid them farewell as he left the room.
Chapter 38
Oh No, He Didn’t
Sunday dinner with the family was perfect. Shy had prepared a meal fit for kings and queens; that’s exactly who she was serving. As she looked around the table at her loved ones, Shy felt her heart flutter. Prince’s and Jayden’s health had improved greatly after the criminal case against them became a nonissue. Princess had started sleeping in her own bed again and the therapist was impressed by the little girl’s progress. Quincy started classes at Kent State University and worked part time at a car dealership. Jayden and Brianna were talking about moving in together but Shy wasn’t having it. They were too young to be playing house. Shy was concerned by how dependent Brianna had become on her son. It wasn’t healthy. Brianna needed to see a therapist to get over the trauma. If Princess was able to overcome it, so could Brianna. Monica seemed to float around, waiting to see what Prince wanted of her. Shy had warned Prince that Monica was infatuated with him, not in love. She’d become possessive and passive. Monica was on the fast track to snapping and pulling a Fatal Attraction on Prince.
“If Monica tries to pull some Fatal Attraction–type bullshit on you, I’m laying her down. Trust me,” warned Shy.
“Ma, that girl ain’t got the heart for that type of move. She cool, I got this,” Prince said dismissively.
Shy decided to leave it alone. Her instincts were never wrong so she knew a storm was brewing. When it hit, she’d be ready.
After dinner, Shy and Karl left for his house. They wanted some peace and quiet. With teenagers always invading her house, Shy found refuge at Karl’s house. For the first time since Melvin’s death, Shy was happy. She felt love, protection, and comfort with Karl. They seemed to be exactly what the other needed to get past their personal tragedies.
