Frank looked down toward the ground. “I am so sorry,” he said to Vivica. “I am so sorry that this had to happen to you, Honey.”
Vivica leaned in and grabbed the picture. The only thing she could do was look at her terrified face. She remembered when the picture was taken, but so much about that time seemed so long ago. “Where did you get this photo?” she asked, thinking of the impact it could have on her career.
“Please, Ma’am,” Rodgers said. “I understand how the two of you must be feeling right now, but I really do think that it would be better if we stepped inside and talked about this with a little bit of privacy.”
Feeling defeated, Frank agreed, and he and his wife led the detectives up to the front door. Once inside, with the front door closed, Sloan was a little more direct. “If you two don’t mind us asking,” he said, calmly. “Where were the two of you headed when we pulled up? We see you’ve got some suitcases packed as if you’re going out of town.”
“We are,” Frank said. “I’ve got to get away from Chicago, for at least a few days. Watching the television and seeing that your son is a wanted criminal… a bank robber, a murderer… gets to be just too much. I know my neighbors up and down the street know. We’ve been getting calls from his family asking if it’s true or not. It’s just too much. I disconnected my phone and am ready to go. We’re not under arrest are we?”
“We could arrest you if you’re not forthcoming with the information that we know you know,” Sloan said. He leaned in, realizing that these people had really been through an ordeal. “Look, I know the two of you are scared. You look like good people who have just been pulled into a terrible situation.”
Frank and Vivica looked at one another. Vivica patted Frank’s chest in a supportive way. “Frank,” she said. “I think it’s time to tell them what happened.”
“Frank?” Sloan asked. “We have reason to think that Tramar and Jackson may have been part of another murder, now. We found a Byron Lesley dead in his house just north of the metro area. He was shot in the head in his basement.”
“And what makes you think that my boy Tramar or his friend Jackson got anything to do with that one?” Frank asked. “Y’all gon’ start try’na pin everything on them two now that y’all can’t find them.”
“No, that’s not what we’re saying,” Sloan said. “We think they may have been involved in that because of the connection as you can see in the photo. Why would a Juan be posting a photo of you, Ma’am, in such a state, on his Facebook page? And he just so happened to do it days before Tramar and Jackson went on to rob the bank downtown and the two banks over in Indiana. I really think there’s something that the two of you are not telling us.” Sloan took a moment to think. “Furthermore, we found Jackson’s car near Byron’s residence. His car was actually found in a wooded property down the road, which is more than just a coincidence.”
Frank plopped down into a chaise lounge, leaning his head back. “They on the run,” he said, flatly.
As Vivica sat down at her husband’s side, Sloan and Rodgers looked at one another. “On the run to where?” Rodgers asked.
“We don’t know,” Frank said. “When they left, they wouldn’t tell us.”
“What happened, Sir?” Sloan asked. “What started all of this so we can figure out how to stop it.”
Vivica and Frank looked at one another before Frank explained. He first talked about the morning he and his wife had been going about their normal day only to have two guys storm into their house and take them hostage. They then went to a house over on the southwest side. Frank was never really sure what street the house was located on; however, he was able to describe the house. The description was not much use as it fit many neighborhoods in Chicago, especially in that part of town.
Frank then went on to talk about how Byron was saying that Tramar and Jackson owed him money. This was the motivation for him and his wife being kidnapped. They were being held at ransom – a ransom that was one million dollars.
“One million!” Sloan said, surprised. “That’s a mighty big price to pay in just a couple of days.”
“We know,” Frank said.
“Yeah,” Vivica said, inserting herself into the dialogue. “If Tramar and Jackson didn’t come up with the money, those two guys, who I guess worked for the Byron guy, were going to kill us. I think one of their names was Juan, but I really can’t be all that sure. They held us in that house for I don’t know how long…maybe a couple of days or more, in that bedroom. Barely giving us food or anything. You can see the healing bruises on my husband’s face. They beat him until he practically was about to die.”
“Sir, did you ever go and get treated for injuries?” Rodgers asked.
Frank shook his head. “No, I didn’t and I’m not goin’,” he answered, not believing that he was giving up his son, Jackson, and Ayana. “Look, my son’s heart was in the right place. I know it don’t excuse what he and Jackson did and have been doin’ but, you see, they ain’t have no choice. They was gon’ kill us if Tramar and Jackson and Ayana ain’t come up with the money.”
“Ayana?” Sloan asked. “What has been her part in this entire thing?”
Once again, Frank and Vivica looked at one another. “As far as we know, she’s only riding along with them,” Frank explained. “If she’s done anything or taken any part in the robberies, we really don’t know.”
“And were the two of you aware that Ayana had gotten a hotel room in her name out by the airport?” Rodgers asked.
Once again, Frank and Vivica both shook their heads. Sloan and Rodgers looked at one another, glad to have one of the missing pieces. They still needed to know where Tramar, Jackson, and Ayana were.
Sloan and Rodgers spoke with Frank and Vivica a little while longer before leaving. They strongly advised that the two of them put off going out of town until Tramar and Jackson were apprehended. After all, it could very well look as if they were fleeing to go see them, among many other things. And, of course, the detectives instructed Frank and Vivica to call them if they happened to hear from Tramar.
Rodgers then remembered to ask another question. “Also, I just have one more question,” he said, seeing that Sloan was looking at him. “When we raided Ayana’s hotel room, the hotel staff said that she had a child with her. That child wouldn’t have happened to have been Quan, Tramar’s son, would it? When was the last time you’ve seen your grandson?”
“It was Quan,” Frank said. “Ayana was watching him while Jackson and Tramar went somewhere, I guess. At that time, my wife and I were still locked away in some bedroom somewhere by that crazy ass nigga that got killed. When we got back home on Monday morning from the motel, he was with us, and we took him over to his mother’s apartment. Her name is Precious.”
“Yes, we know her,” Sloan said. “We spoke with Precious already. However, she didn’t have much information about this either. Something is telling me that maybe she knows more about this than she’s readily admitting.”
Frank and Vivica looked at one another, remaining quiet. “Officers, if you don’t mind,” Vivica said. “We’d like to get on with our day. We’ve told you what we know, but I can assure you that we have no idea where Tramar, Jackson, and Ayana went to. They didn’t tell us. We just watched them pull off.”
“Pull off in what, may I ask?” Rodgers asked.
Vivica hesitated, knowing that if she said the car, it would not only make them a target but also connect them for sure to Byron’s death. Sloan and Rodgers picked up on this hesitation. “Ma’am?” Rodger asked.
“Some sort of black car,” Vivica said, vaguely.
“Sir, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about cars, would you?” Sloan asked, noticing that the husband was being quiet. “Do you happen to know what kind of car it was that they were driving when you saw them last?”
Frank hesitated before answering the million dollar question. “A black Bugatti,” he said, shaking his head. “A black Bugatti. I don’t know the year. I
only saw it at night, and it was too dark for me to get a good look at it.”
“Sir, I’m going to suggest that the two of you do not leave town until the authorities close this investigation out,” Sloan insisted. “I would really think doing something like that would hurt you more than it would help you.”
The detectives left their cards before getting into their car and pulling away. As soon as they pulled up to the stop sign at the corner, Sloan and Rodgers looked at one another. “What you thinkin?” Rodgers asked.
“I think that brother Ryan is going to get revenge,” Sloan said.
“I was thinkin’ the same thing,” Detective Rodgers said. “If the one brother would go through all of that to get ransom money and whatever, we can only imagine what the other brother is capable of.”
“And you saw the way he was looking at us when we were talking to him,” Sloan said. “The guy definitely looked like he had a little chip on his shoulder.”
“Yeah, he did,” Rodgers said, shaking his head. “You don’t think that Ryan is going to be going back after the family to get Tramar and Jackson to come back out of hiding, do you?”
“I think that’s exactly what he’s going to do,” Sloan said. He turned onto the busy street and headed east. Downtown Chicago loomed in the distance at the end of the tree-lined street. “And you know what? I think he’s going to take it a step further this time. Byron went after the father and stepmother.”
Rodgers looked over at his partner. “And the brother is going to go after the kid,” he said.
The two of them looked down at the clock and saw that school would be starting shortly. That could work in their favor if the kid was already at school. However, if he was in transit, such as walking or on a school bus, not only did it make him harder to find, but it could also expose him to the grip of Ryan. Sloan sped up as he made his way down the busy street.
“Let’s go see the mother of his child again,” Sloan said. “If she’s not at home, then we can catch her at work or something. I just got a gut feeling that Ryan is going after the kid as payback. If Tramar and Jackson were willing to go through all of what they did to get Tramar’s father and stepmother back, then imagine what he’ll do when his son’s life is in danger.”
Rodgers was nodding his head. “That would be one way to make them come out of hiding,” he said.
“Exactly,” Sloan said. “And get payback for what they did to Byron.”
Chapter 9
When Tramar, Jackson and Ayana were riding back into the urbanized area of Chicago in the morning, they’d come into the city at the worst possible time: morning rush hour. Some areas of the interstate were stop and go. Others were parking lots – seas of cars. While the frustration that comes with Chicago traffic was definitely nerve-racking, it was nice to know they didn’t have to worry about being pulled over. During this time of day, the traffic was too thick for police cars to pull people over. Furthermore, the numerous car accidents around the city kept them busy as well. However, it did make Tramar antsier that he couldn’t get back to his family as quickly as he wanted. He wanted to walk up to Precious’ door, knock, and find that his son was there and okay. He knew that he’d be going through an uphill battle with Precious to get her to go stay somewhere else. It was something that he was mentally preparing for and would do whatever it took to make it happen.
“Shit this shit is so fucked up,” Tramar said.
“Okay, man, okay,” Jackson said. “Let’s just calm down. We gon’ get there when we can. What is your plan anyway, man? What are you try’na do now that we here?”
“Man, I just wanna go to Precious’ apartment and make sure that my son okay,” Tramar said. “You heard what that nigga said, threatening my family and shit. I just gotta make sure they okay.”
“They are,” Ayana said, trying to be comforting. “They are.”
They sat out on the interstate for several minutes and waited for the traffic to lighten up. Once it did, Tramar made his way up to the next exit and got off and onto the street. He’d decided he’d rather take his chances on the surface streets. Sure, they were busy as well, but he wasn’t trapped in a walled-in environment like he was on the interstate. Tramar zigzagged through the south side of Chicago until he turned down Precious’ street.
“I got a weird fuckin’ feeling already,” Tramar said, leaning over the steering wheel and looking up and down the block as he rolled slowly.
“What you mean?” Ayana asked, looking out of the window. “What you got a weird feeling about? Everything looks okay and stuff as far as I can see.”
Tramar shook his head. “Naw,” he said, pulling into a parking spot quickly. He then looked around again. “Something just don’t feel right about this shit,” he said. “It’s almost like it’s too quiet.”
“I know,” Jackson said, not realizing that his words would cause Tramar to pump up even more. “Something does seem odd. Ain’t nobody out. Ain’t a whole lot of noise. What kinda car does Precious drive?”
Tramar look around. “As far as I know, she still got that black SUV,” he answered. “It’s some sort of Toyota I think, and she got pink license plates or some stupid shit like that.”
The three of them looked around until Ayana spotted Precious’ SUV. “Over there,” she said, pointing in the direction for Jackson and Tramar.
“So she still here,” Tramar said, looking at Precious’ apartment building. He looked up at her floor, knowing that her windows didn’t look out on this side of the building. Tramar began to climb out of the car.
“Man, take your gun,” Jackson said, pulling Tramar back into the car.
A bit shaken, Tramar looked over at Jackson with a confused look. “Damn, nigga,” he said. “What the fuck is up with you? I was just gettin’ out of the car and shit.”
Jackson pointed back toward the street. “Nigga, look,” he said. “You gon’ need your gun. We gon’ have to run up in that shit and be prepared.”
As Tramar looked back toward the street, his heart began to beat harder. His breathing was slow and steady as he tried to make sense of whatever Jackson wanted him to see. “Nigga, what the fuck you talkin’ about?” Tramar asked, confused. “What the fuck is you talkin’ about?”
“Nigga, that van,” Jackson said, pointing toward the street again. “Remember when we went to that nigga’s dead grandmother’s house? That was the van that was sitting out front.”
“The van them two niggas inside the house got out of when we was ridin’ down the street the first time,” Tramar said, his eyes widening.
Tramar and Jackson quickly sat back down into their seats and reached under to get their guns.
“They got my fuckin’ son,” Tramar said, as he quickly loaded his gun. “They got my fuckin’ son.” Memories with Quan flowed through his mind like a slideshow – memories that pushed Tramar to move even quicker.
“Ayana, stay out here,” Tramar told her. “I just want you to stay out here. I don’t care what you do. Just stay out here and don’t you come up there.”
“Tramar, be careful,” Ayana said.
Just then, Tramar leaned between the two seats and kissed Ayana. He smiled, telling her that he loved her. Once they’d finished having their moment, Tramar slid his gun into his pocket, and he and Jackson headed up toward the entrance to the apartment building. They looked at one another. “Man, I’mma kill them two niggas,” Tramar said.
“Yeah,” Jackson said, feeling heated himself. “That was another mistake we made. When we was at that house, we should have killed them two niggas when we had the chance and shit. Then they wouldn’t be out here doin’ this shit.”
“Yeah, and now they got a different boss,” Tramar said. “First, them niggas was workin’ for one brother. Then they got on workin’ for another.”
“I’mma just kill’em,” Tramar said. “I swear I am, man. This is some fuckin’ bullshit.”
“What we gon’ do afterwards?” Jackson asked.
Tramar
looked at his best friend. “Can’t worry about afterwards until it gets here, really,” he answered. And that was the best answer he could give at that moment.
Tramar and Jackson walked into the apartment building and stepped up to the elevators. When Tramar pushed the UP button, he could see that the elevator was coming all the way from the top of the building. He groaned under his breath and noticed the entrance to the stairwell in the reflection of the metal elevator door.
“Let’s just take the steps,” he said, tapping Jackson’s arm.
He and Jackson turned around and entered the building’s staircase. Tramar walked up the stairs, planting the soles of his feet into each step. Within seconds, they were at Precious’ floor. They pulled the door open and hurried into the hallway. A few more seconds and they would be at Precious' door – a few more seconds and they would be, once again, coming face to face with some of the very reasons they were on the run for armed robbery and murder. Tramar knew right then and there that if he were going to do down for anything today, he was going to make it worth his while.
***
When Sloan and Rodgers pulled into Precious’ neighborhood, turning off of the main street, Sloan pointed at the school a couple of blocks up from where Precious lived. “You don’t think the little boy, Quan, goes to that school, do you?”
Rodgers shrugged. “I don’t know,” he answered. “Maybe. But you know how they’re doing things with kids in these schools nowadays. So many are being bused out to far out places and mixed up and stuff. He might go there.”
“You know what?” Sloan said. “Before we go alarm the mother, let’s make sure that the boy is in school.” Sloan quickly turned around at the next intersection and headed back down the block toward the school. He pulled the car into the parking lot and the two of them went up to the back entrance. They let the person who answered the speaker know that they were detectives. Once they were buzzed in, security approached them and walked with them to the office.
When It All Falls Down 4 - It Just Ain't Over Yet: A Chicago Hood Drama (A Hustler's Lady) Page 13
