Chaser

by Miasha

  Kenny let me go and I fell against the hospital bed. The pain in my shoulder was too great for me to retaliate. All I could do was listen to the shit he was tellin’ me and die inside.

  He straightened up his clothes and headed out of my room. Then he stopped and said, “I know she around this mothafucka somewhere! Tell her I said job well done!” Then he walked out the room, slamming the door closed behind him.

  I heard the bathroom door open slowly. Then Leah’s frightened face peeped around the corner. She was crying.

  I didn’t care though. I wanted to smash her head in the wall immediately. If only I could.

  “What the fuck did you drag me into?” I snapped, tears coming to my eyes. I was so mad I could feel the veins popping out my neck just from looking at Leah. “You tryna set me and my family up? So all this time you was just usin’ me for information?”

  Leah shook her head repeatedly as she tried to get a word in.

  “I wanna fuck you up, Leah! You played me, dog? That’s why you was launderin’ that money through my pop? So you could catch him up on that shit, too? YOU AIN’T SHIT!”

  Leah finally was able to speak, “NASIR! LISTEN TO ME! KENNY DON’T KNOW WHAT HE’S TALKIN’ ABOUT! HE’S JUST TRYIN’ TO GET BACK AT YOU FOR MESSIN’ WITH ME! IT’S HIM I’M GETTIN’ TAPE ON, LIKE I TRIED TO TELL YOU BEFORE!”

  “That’s what you’ll have me believe! But if it was that, why the fuck you just ask me to give you my side of the story about what happened the other night? Huh? Huh? Answer me that! That was probably ya only motive for comin’ up this mafucka! To get info! You wasn’t comin’ up here to see me!” I reached over and grabbed the flowers off the tray table and threw them at her.

  She ducked and screamed. Then the begging began. “Nasir, please! If ever there was a time that I needed you to trust me, now is it!” she cried.

  “Fuck you, Leah!” I said sternly, throwing her keys to her as hard as I could. “Get the fuck out!”

  Leah picked up her keys and asked if I could hear her out one last time.

  I shook my head and told her, “You dead to me, man!”

  She stood still for a minute, sobbing. A look of despair covered her face. Then she turned to the door and walked out.

  I managed to pull myself onto the bed. Trying to ignore the pain I was in, I felt around on my bed for my cell phone. When I found it, I dialed my dad. I realized that with my injury I wouldn’t be able to get at Kenny the way I wanted so badly to. I didn’t just want to shoot the nigga and kill ’im. I wanted to torture that slimy mafucka! And for that, I needed my dad’s assistance.

  “What’s up, Nas?” my dad answered.

  “Dad, I got some information on who did it.”

  “I’ll rap to you about it when you get home.”

  “All right.”

  “It’s goin’ get handled.”

  “All right.”

  “I love you, son.”

  “I love you, too, Dad.

  Leah

  I left the hospital after seeing Nasir and went straight to the police station, ready either to accept my charges or to tell the cops everything Kenny had told me about what had gone down at the shoot-out and hope that it would lead to his arrest. Whatever needed to be done to get Kenny out my life I was goin’ do. If not, I was goin’ end up dead. Either Kenny was goin’ kill me for fuckin’ with Nasir, or he was goin’ drive me to kill myself.

  I went inside the precinct and told the clerk why I was there. She immediately led me to an interview room in the back. I waited anxiously for somebody to come in and tell me what had happened to Detective Daily.

  After a few minutes, the door opened. I picked my face up out my palms and looked up.

  “Detective Daily?” I was shocked to see that he was alive.

  “Leah, why did you come in? Why didn’t you call me first? It isn’t a good idea for you to be seen walkin’ in and out of here.”

  “I had to. I thought somethin’ happened to you at the last location,” I told him.

  “No, I didn’t go that night. I was down at the shore for the holiday.” The detective’s eyes grew weary. “It was my partner who was killed.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Detective. I didn’t know that it was goin’ to come to that. I just thought he was goin’ make the transaction and that be that. I never would’ve put you or anybody in harm’s way,” I cried, unable to control my emotions.

  “I know, kiddo,” he said. “You couldn’t have known. Neither could I. But we can’t dwell on that. Right now we have to move swiftly to get the perpetrator. Tell me you got something on that son of a bitch.” He got straight to it.

  I nodded eagerly. “He killed your partner.”

  “How are you sure of this?” Detective Daily asked just eagerly.

  “He told me that once he realized there was a cop out there, he let a shot off.”

  The detective was taking notes in a pad. He stopped and started snapping his fingers at somebody who was apparently watching us from the outside. “Was there anybody with him that you know of?”

  “His brother was.”

  “And what’s his name?”

  “Timothy Courtland.”

  “And do you know his address?”

  I gave the detective Tim’s address.

  Another detective entered the interview room, and Detective Daily turned his attention to him. “We’ve got our perp,” he told the other detective.

  “Who is it and where can we find him?”

  “Kenneth Courtland. 210 Morton Road.”

  “We’ll go pick ’im up now.”

  “Get his brother, too.” Detective Daily stood up and handed the other detective the piece of paper he had been writing on, which he ripped from his notepad. “Timothy Courtland. 5412 Gainor Road. In case Kenneth doesn’t budge. We’ll try to get his brother to give ’im up. Either way, we need both of these men in custody. We need to get a confession out of one or the other so we can charge them both with murder one. Put out an alert and take caution, ’cause they’re likely to be armed and dangerous,” Detective Daily passed down the chain of command.

  Then he sat back down and patted my knee. “You’re gonna be all right, kiddo. We’re gonna nab this bastard.”

  “Please do, Detective. Because it’s at the point where I’m scared for my life.”

  “Has he threatened you? Does he know that you’re working with us?”

  “No, no. But he knows somebody tipped y’all. And he’s on a rampage, and I don’t wanna cross paths with him. I don’t even wanna go home until y’all bring him in.”

  “That’s no problem, Ms. Baker. We will arrange for you to stay in a hotel until we get him.”

  Detective Daily put me up in the Comfort Inn all the way in South Philly on Delaware Avenue. I was sitting in the hotel room all alone, scared and confused. I thought about where I was in my life and started pitying myself. How had I let things come to this? Before Kenny, I was a student and I’d worked two jobs. I had a social life. I had friends. I had a good relationship with my mom. Now I didn’t have any of that. It was like my life took a 360-degree turn for the worst when I got with Kenny. And I was tired of accepting it. I wanted to sever all ties with him and start fresh. I had even decided to abort the baby I had recently found out I was carrying. Just in case it was his.

  I felt guilty for thinking that way about a baby—about my baby—but I didn’t know what else to think.

  I got in the shower and ordered food, hoping it would relax me a little. Then while I was waiting for my food to come I got a phone call. It was from Kenny. I didn’t answer right away. I had to get my story together first.

  “Hello,” I answered after the fourth ring.

  “Where the hell you at?” Kenny asked.

  I began to whisper, “I’m in hiding, Kenny” I told him. “The police found out that somebody tipped Vic and Nasir off about me being an informant and they immediately put me in protective custody.”

  “Wasn’t
you at the hospital today with Nasir?”

  I couldn’t lie. He knew I was there. If I had lied about that, nothing else I would have said would have been credible. “Yeah. How you know?” I played it off.

  “I was up there. I saw ya fuckin’ key chain. What’s goin’ on, Leah? And don’t tell me no bullshit, either! ’Cause this nigga told me y’all fuckin’! And he lucky I didn’t knock his ass off right there in the mafuckin’ hospital!”

  “Kenny, Kenny, listen to me,” I sniveled. “I would never cross no lines like that. You gotta trust me. The only reason why I’ve been dealin’ with Nasir in the first place was to get us out the shit we were in. You know that. I’m not doin’ nothin’ with Nasir, and I never did! If he told you that, he lied! I don’t know what for, maybe to get under your skin, but that shit ain’t true! I went to the hospital today, yes, but only because the cops wanted me to go up there and try to get information out of Nasir about who shot that cop,” I tried to convince him. “When I couldn’t get anything out of him, I left and went straight to the police station. My key chain must’ve fell off my keys,” I explained, with as much sincerity in my tone as I could muster.

  Kenny was quiet for a minute. Then he said, “Loyalty is everything to me, Leah, and if for one second I feel like I’m not gettin’ it from you, you know what can happen, don’t you?”

  “I know. And my loyalty to you is the one thing you don’t have to question,” I assured him.

  “Well, good. ’Cause I need you right now more than anytime before.”

  “What’s goin’ on?”

  “I think Nasir mentioned my name to the cops. They been showin’ up at everybody house lookin’ for me.”

  “Where are you? What are you goin’ to do?”

  “I’m in the cut. But I’m tryna plan shit out now. Run this by me again. The cops got word that Nasir knows you was snitchin’, so they got you hidin’ out?”

  “Yeah. Pretty much. And I’m scared, Kenny,” I tried hard to convey weakness. “I’m scared for you, and I’m scared for me.”

  “Don’t be scared. I’ma see that nigga before he see any one of us. If he’s out the equation, then you’ll be cool and there won’t be nobody to point the finger at me in the courtroom talkin’ about I killed that cop. When I think about it, I shouldn’t have left him alive from the gate.”

  “Kenny, I don’t want you bein’ stupid. Now, I know we’re in a tight spot right now, but you can’t lose yourself. You can’t just go up in the hospital and think you can do somethin’ to Nasir without bein’ caught.”

  “I ain’t goin’ do that. I ain’t gotta do that. I know where he be. Matter of fact, I know he goin’ go to Brock’s funeral. I know that much.”

  At that, I was eager to get off the phone with Kenny. I wanted to let Detective Daily know where he could possibly catch up with Kenny.

  I dialed the number. “Detective, I just talked to Kenny,” I said without delay.

  “Did he give you any information about his whereabouts?”

  “No. But he did say he planned to go to one of the guys who was killed funeral.”

  “Which guy, Ms. Baker?”

  “Brakir Jackson. Everybody called him Brock.”

  “We’ll have to pick ’im up there then. Thanks for this.”

  “Just make sure y’all get him fast because how he was talkin’ he plans to do somethin’ to Nasir. He thinks Nasir ratted him out, and that’s why y’all are lookin’ for him.”

  “Okay. Thanks for this. And soon as we get him into custody, we will let you know.”

  I got off the phone and felt drained. My situation was getting more and more complicated by the hour. I was in a whirlwind of drama, and I didn’t know how I was going to get out. All I knew was that I wanted out. I wanted out desperately.

  Nasir

  A day out of the hospital I was preparing to go Brock’s funeral. I was putting on my clothes slowly, partly because it was hard trying to dress myself with one arm in a sling, but partly because I wasn’t in a hurry to go bury my friend.

  “The trucks are here,” my mom yelled up to me.

  I was at my mom’s house. I came straight here from the hospital yesterday and spent the night. While I was in the hospital my mom had gone to my apartment and grabbed some clothes and personal items for me. I planned on staying with her and my dad until I healed some.

  I looked out the window of my old bedroom. It was like a parade outside. Two limousines led a line of about two dozen tow trucks, the first truck being a flatbed with my old truck on top of it. Spray painted on the windows was R.I.P. BROCK 1983–2008. And on the hood was an airbrushed picture of Brock.

  “You all right?” my mom asked, as I walked down the steps.

  “I’m cool,” I said, the depressed tone in my voice not matching my response.

  My dad and my two younger brothers, who I wasn’t too close with due to our ten-and twelve-year age differences, came walking downstairs minutes after me.

  “Yo, is that real?” my thirteen-year-old brother asked me, grabbing my wrist and examining my all-diamond Cartier.

  “Yeah, dummy. Tell ’im, Nas. He don’t know nothin’ about ice,” my fifteen-year-old brother answered for me.

  I chuckled at the two of them. They reminded me of myself when I was younger.

  “Y’all go get in the limo,” my mom instructed.

  They did what they were told, and then my dad and I followed suit. We pulled up to Brock’s mom’s house, and damn near the whole block was outside waiting to follow us to the funeral. Brock’s mom, grandmom, and sister got in the limo with us while some of Brock’s other relatives got in the second limo. Friends, neighbors, and distant relatives got in their cars and lined up behind the trucks. We all made our way to Calvary Baptist Church on Haverford Avenue, where Brock’s mom was a member.

  The church was already packed before we got there. So when all of us got inside, it was overcrowded. A lot of Brock’s friends from his neighborhood were there. They all had on T-shirts with the same picture of Brock that was on the hood of the tow truck. I even noticed a lot of police officers present.

  The family lined up in pairs to view the body before taking our seats. The hardest part for me was hearing Brock’s mom grieve. The cries that came from that lady expressed a pain no mother should have to bare. I thought about my own mom and prayed silently that she would never have to lay any one of her sons to rest. I wished I could guarantee it, too, but the reality was we lived in a city during a time where death by gun violence was at an all-time high. And it didn’t even matter if you were doin’ dirt or not. You could get hit with a stray or be killed during a robbery or home invasion. It was that crazy in Philly. Niggas was shootin’ any and everything, in broad daylight, at playgrounds, outside of schools. It didn’t matter.

  After the hour-long funeral service, we all gathered to go to the cemetery. My dad was one of the six pallbearers who had taken the coffin from the church to the hearse. Because of my injury, I couldn’t help, even though I wanted to.

  At the cemetery the preacher said a few words, prayed, and then allowed for family members and friends to lay a rose on top of the coffin before it was lowered into the ground. It was then that I noticed Kenny. He walked up to the front, laid his rose, and glanced up at me. He had a smirk on his face. I watched him like a hawk while he parted back through the crowd to take his standing position on the outside of the huddle.

  I was furious. I wanted to fuck Kenny up. How dare he come to Brock’s funeral? I didn’t want to make a scene at the burial, but I needed to get some shit off my chest. I needed to confront Kenny. I took a few steps headed in the direction of where Kenny was standing. But my dad came behind me, grabbing my arm.

  “Don’t do it,” he whispered to me. “Not here, not now. Next thing you know, the cops’ll think you were a coconspirator.”

  “What cops?” I asked, mad enough not to care.

  My dad nodded his head as a gesture for me to look in Kenny’s di
rection. And walking up on Kenny were two plainclothes cops. They flashed their badges to Kenny and then escorted him to a silver Ford Taurus.

  The distraction caused Brock’s mom, to stand up and start yelling, “IS THAT THE BASTARD WHO KILLED MY SON? I KNOW HE DIDN’T HAVE THE AUDACITY TO SHOW UP HERE! IS THAT THE SON OF A BITCH WHO TOOK MY ONLY SON FROM ME? FOR CHRIST SAKE, THAT BETTER NOT BE!”

  The preacher and others tried calming Brock’s mom, who couldn’t stop yelling and sobbing.

  Meanwhile, Kenny shot me a nasty look through the rear window as the unmarked police car was being driven away from the burial.

  I guessed it was obvious how pissed off I was, because my dad volunteered, “Don’t worry. We goin’ see that nigga. We goin’ get at ’im when he least expect it. Him and his rotten bitch. I knew she was trouble from the beginning. I should’ve followed my instincts and never hired her ass. ’Cause now I’ma have to kill ’er.”

  Leah

  I stayed two nights in the hotel and then was able to go home. And not because Kenny was being detained, either, because the detectives had to wound up letting him go. When they arrested him, he surprisingly didn’t have a weapon on him. When they got a warrant to search our house, they found nothing. They tried for sixteen hours to get him or his brother Tim to talk, and neither of them did. Eventually, the cops had to let them go. They didn’t have any evidence to charge them with anything, and they explained to me that they couldn’t keep them without bringing charges up against them.

  I was getting frustrated with the system and the cops’ inability to use the information I had been giving them. I was beginning to feel like I made a mistake by ever agreeing to be an informant in the first place. It seemed like it wasn’t worth the trouble or the risks. I wanted to call it quits, but the detectives convinced me that I had come too far to stop now. They told me that they were extremely close to making an arrest, especially while Kenny was scared. They said criminals usually slipped up when they were under pressure.