Hoodlum

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Hoodlum Page 25

by K'wan


  “Man,” Tommy continued, “I should’ve known that it was yo’ dick-riding ass spitting that bullshit about me. You still mad, huh?”

  Brown took a step toward Tommy, but his partner held him back. “Look,” Alvarez said, addressing Tommy, “we just wanted to ask you a few questions about a—”

  “Any questions you have for my client can be asked in private and only at my discretion,” Scotty cut in. “Martin Scott, Attorney—”

  “I know who you are.” Brown looked at him in disgust. “Fucking worm,” he mumbled under his breath.

  “Gentlemen,” Alvarez said, addressing all three of the men. “A man was murdered and we have reason to believe that Tommy was involved.”

  “Where's your proof?” Scotty asked.

  “We have a witness, who—”

  “Okay,” Scotty cut him off, “so you have somebody that says Tommy did something, what else is new? Detectives, it's no secret to anyone in this building who my client is. His father is a respected businessman and pillar of the community. It's not uncommon for rumors to get way out of hand when they actually have no truth to them.”

  “That's bullshit and you know it,” Brown snapped. “Heath, the numbers man, was murdered and Tommy gave the order. We’re gonna nail his ass for it!”

  “Big talk,” Tommy laughed mockingly, “for a low-rank cock- sucker. Nigga, you ain’t shit,” Tommy said venomously. “Would be an Uncle Tom mutha fucka like you to try to hate ‘cause I’m eating. I ain’t no fucking angel, but I sure as hell don’t have nothing to do with no murders.”

  “That's enough, Tommy,” Scotty said, placing his hand on Tommy's shoulder. “Detectives, if my client isn’t being charged, we’re leaving.”

  Alvarez looked over at his partner and could’ve sworn that he saw steam rising from his head. He was just as tight about the whole thing as Brown, but what could they do? Other than what Amine said, they really didn’t have anything on Tommy. They had to let him go, but they didn’t have to close the case on him.

  “No,” Alvarez said, folding his arms, “but we would like to ask him a few questions.”

  “What the fuck ever.” Tommy threw his arms up. “Let's get this shit over with so I can get from ‘round you silly-ass niggaz.”

  “Right this way,” Alvarez said, motioning toward an office door.

  Tommy strode down the hall as if he didn’t have a care in theworld. Scotty followed behind them looking stressed. Here sat near the desk sergeant, shaking his head. Tommy was his boy, but he was becoming a little extra with his attitude. He felt as if he was untouchable, and in a sense he was; as long as Here had strength in his body, he would see to that.

  Shai and Gator picked their dates up from the hair salon on 132nd and Lenox. Both of the ladies were looking good enough to eat. Paula had on a one-piece body suit and filled it out nicely. She had a horse ass and a little waist, causing Gator to eye her like a hungry dog. She returned his stare fearlessly.

  Honey was on point as usual. She had on a skirt that was tight around the ass but loose toward the knee. Her black, button-down blouse curved with her body and held close to her breasts. Shai stared at her openly as he held the passenger door for her.

  Gator and Paula hit it off right away. She took one look at him and was hit. He spit some wild-ass line at her with his Southern accent and she went for it. Gator was a kind of cat who was totally different to her. Shai and Honey didn’t seem to mind. This left them some time to get better acquainted.

  “Did you miss me?” he asked playfully.

  “Shai, I just saw you the other day.” She smiled.

  “Shit, every moment away from Shai Clark is enough time to miss him.”

  “You are so stuck on yourself.”

  “Nah, but I’m stuck on you.”

  Honey couldn’t help but blush at the statement. “Where are we going?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “Damn, you’re nosey,” he joked. “You’ll find out when we get there.”

  “Knowing you, it's probably some loud-ass club or social event,” Honey teased him.

  “Nah.” He smiled. “Nothing like that. I got something different in mind.”

  “I don’t give a fuck where we go, as long as we get there,” Gator added from the backseat. “A nigga can catch cabin fever sitting in the back of this mutha fucka.”

  The whole car burst into laughter.

  Lucius smiled liked the cat that swallowed the canary. Just as Bone had promised him, he was finally starting to see some paper. He was still hustling for Tommy, but soon he would make his separation from their squad. He was on top of the world, and nothing could knock him off his high horse. Had he known he was being watched, he might not have been so cocky.

  CHAPTER 24

  POPPA ARRIVED AT THE restaurant ready to have a good time. The pressures of all that had been going on were checked at the door. This night would be pleasure. Normally he would’ve had several of his security team with him, but he didn’t feel like being crowded. He was just going to dinner with James, so he doubted that it would require an entourage. He had a soldier named Sam drive the car, while he kept Butch at his side.

  Butch got out of the car and held the door for Poppa. There was no parking in front of the restaurant, so Poppa instructed Sam to come back when he called him. He figured if he was going to be a while, it didn’t make any sense to have Sam riding around aimlessly. Butch didn’t like the idea of being shorthanded, but Poppa was the boss.

  As Butch led Poppa into the restaurant, a cold chill swept across his neck. Butch stopped short and looked around. There were a few people scattered throughout the place, but other than that Butchcouldn’t see anyone or anything that might’ve posed a threat. Still, he kept his hand close to his gun.

  “What's wrong?” Poppa asked, noticing his man tense up.

  “Nothing, I guess,” Butch said, still looking around. “Just thinking how light this crowd is around this time.”

  “What's so unusual about that?” Poppa asked.

  “It's happy hour,” Butch said.

  “Cut that shit out, Butch. You’re gonna make me paranoid.” Poppa waved him off and went to find James who was already seated.

  “What's up, son?” Poppa asked, shaking James's hand.

  “Glad you could make it.” James smiled uneasily.

  Butch caught a hint of something in the man's smile, but Poppa seemed comfortable around him, so he brushed it off as nerves.

  “I see you’ve started without me,” Poppa said, motioning toward the three empty liquor glasses on the table.

  “Yeah,” James smiled weakly. “Just a little celebrating.”

  “I know that's right,” Poppa agreed. “I’m proud of you, kid.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you. No matter what, I’ll always be grateful for all that you’ve done for me. I mean that, Poppa.”

  “Don’t even worry about it, James. You can make it up to me by getting some season tickets.”

  Poppa ordered a bottle of champagne and the three men ordered their meals. Butch was on the job, so he didn’t drink, but Poppa ended up getting a little tipsy. Butch had noticed a few odd things throughout the evening. James seemed to keep looking around nervously, as if he were waiting for something to happen. When the little Italian waiter brought their meals, James damn near jumped out of his skin. Butch wondered if Poppa's little athlete might have a coke problem.

  Poppa and James talked about sports and life for the better part of two hours. He was more than pleased when Poppa instructed him to call Sam. Sam assured Butch that he was a few blocks away and would be there within minutes. Butch got up and went to stand by the entrance.

  “James, thanks for the dinner.” Poppa smiled.

  “Hey, don’t worry about it,” James said nervously.

  “Well, I need to be going now. You need a ride somewhere, James?”

  “No,” he blurted out. “I mean no thank you.”

  “James, are you high?�
�� Poppa asked suspiciously.

  “Nah, just a little buzzed,” James lied.

  “Some people ain’t got no stomach for liquor,” Poppa joked. “Come walk me to the car, James.”

  “I’ll be right there,” James said, backing up. “Gotta take a leak.”

  Poppa shrugged his shoulders and headed for the front door. James stood in the rear of the restaurant, where the bathroom was located. He leaned against the wooden door and began to cry. He knew he was going out like a crab, but what choice did he have? It was a choice between Poppa's life or his and Poppa lost.

  The detectives grilled Tommy for over an hour. They asked him multiple questions about the murder and his personal life. Each question they asked him, Tommy either gave a smart-ass answer or Scotty wouldn’t let him answer it. When asked where he was the day Heath was murdered, Tommy said he had been in a bar drinking, which he had been. There were dozens of witnesses that could verify that. When asked about his relationship with Amine and Legs, he claimed he had never heard of him. The detectives had nothing on Tommy.

  “Listen,” Scotty spoke up. “We’ve been over all of this a dozen times. If my client is not being charged, we’re leaving.”

  The detectives didn’t like it, but they had to let him go. They knew Tommy ordered the hit, but they couldn’t prove it. The more frustrated they got, the wider Tommy's smile got. He was guilty as hell, but he knew that without evidence, they had nothing. Their only hope would be the testimony of their two witnesses.

  “Okay, smart-ass,” Brown said. “I guess you can go, for now.”

  “Nigga, like I told you,” Tommy said, with a smile, “what murder?”

  “Just get the fuck outta here, Clark,” Alvarez cut in, trying to defuse the situation. “We’ll be seeing you again.”

  “Fuck outta here,” Tommy said, standing. “You chumps is outta your league. I’m a Clark, baby. That name means something ‘round here. Y’all need to take yo’ asses out and try to catch some of these real criminals. Like punk-ass police that beat up on kids.”

  The detectives and Tommy shared knowing glances.

  “Whatever,” Brown said. “Scott, you and your client, get the fuck outta here.” Scotty and Tommy left the office, leaving the detectives feeling stupid.

  “What do you make of all this shit?” Tommy asked, lighting a cigarette.

  “Too early to tell,” Scotty responded. “It doesn’t seem like they have anything on you. At least for now.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that they know something they’re not telling you just yet. They wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble if they didn’t. Somebody is talking.”

  “I figured as much,” Tommy said, as if Scotty were late in catching on.

  “Any idea who?”

  “I got a few. Angie,” Tommy said, motioning for his lieutenant to join them. “What's your take on all this?”

  “Well,” Angelo began. “I’d say use the process of elimination. Who knew about the hit?”

  “Me, you, Poppa, Amine, and Legs.”

  “Right,” Angelo nodded. “Now, I know I ain’t the rat and I’m willing to submit to whatever test you like to prove it. It couldn’t have been you or Poppa. Who does that leave us?”

  “Amine and Legs. Where are those two fucking knuckleheads?”

  “Legs is still out of town with his girl,” Scotty cut in. “He checks in once a week, as instructed. Nobody knows where Amine is.”

  “He hasn’t been seen on the streets,” Angelo said, “but I’ve been hearing a lot of crazy shit. The boy has got a big mouth. That's probably our leak.”

  “Scotty,” Tommy snapped. “I want you to find out if the police have him in custody. If they do, find out where.”

  “If the police do have him, we aren’t going to be able to get to him,” Scotty informed him.

  “You let me worry about that. Just find out.”

  Honey was thoroughly surprised when she saw where Shai had taken her. She had expected him to take her somewhere floss, but she was wrong. Shai had instead opted for something simple. The quartet would be enjoying an evening of bowling and drinks at Chelsea Piers.

  “Shai, you never cease to amaze me,” Honey said, as he led her into the dark bowling alley.

  “You’ve never been bowling?” he asked.

  “Well, no. And never quite like this. The balls glow in the dark,” she said.

  “That's why I like it down here,” he confessed. “It's a different vibe.”

  Honey followed Shai through the alley, to the area where they were issued shoes and balls. Honey was thoroughly impressed by the place. The whole bowling alley was dark, with the exception of the neon balls and the multicolored splashes down the lanes. There was a bar on each level and a small food court on the main level. It felt more like a club than a bowling alley.

  Honey sat there, sipping her cosmopolitan, and smiling. She hadn’t had this much fun in ages. Normally, when she hung out with her girls or a guy, it would be at a club or in a restaurant. Shai had put her onto something totally different. Honey had looked at bowling as something mostly squares did, but she was having a good time.

  “Shai,” Honey said, leaning in close to him. “I want to thank you.”

  “For what?” he asked.

  “For making me feel special. Even though you found out I strip, you still treat me like a lady.”

  “Why shouldn’t I? I’m not interested in what you do for a living. I’m interested in you as a person. You’re a special lady, Honey. Real special.”

  Honey couldn’t help but smile. Shai had a rep as being a player, but he was actually a sweetheart. Most cats treated her like a whore or a showpiece, but Shai didn’t. He made her feel like a woman. She had initially gotten with him to try to get into his pockets, but her feelings had changed. She really liked him. Paula always said that there were no happy endings in the hood, but this was one time she might’ve been wrong. Shai made Honey feel like she was the queen of the world. All she ever wanted from a man was respect and affection and Shai had shown her both. Honey decided to try something she had never done before and be honest with Shai.

  “Shai,” she began. “I really dig you.”

  “I dig you too, ma,” he said with a smile.

  “And because I dig you, I feel that it's only right that I be honest with you.”

  “Honey, please don’t tell me you used to be a man,” he joked.

  “I’m serious, Shai,” she said, looking him directly in the eyes. “Listen, when I first got with you, I didn’t really know who you were. But as I began to put the pieces together, I realized you were the little brother that Tommy always talked about.”

  “What does Tommy have to do with this?”

  “Shai. . . Tommy and I used to see each other.”

  “Ain’t that about a bitch,” Shai said, trying not to sound hurt. “You used to fuck with my brother, now you’re working on me? Who's next, Poppa?”

  “It wasn’t like that, Shai.”

  “So what was it like? Damn, Honey. Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “Shai, I didn’t know at first. Then when I found out who you were, I couldn’t figure out how or if I was gonna tell you at all. Shai, we weren’t supposed to fall for each other, but it happened. I’m sorry for not telling you, but I’m not sorry for falling for you.”

  “This shit is too much,” Shai said, standing.

  “Shai, wait,” Honey pleaded, but Shai just kept walking.

  Shai felt an abundance of things at that moment, but the most distinguishing emotion was hurt. As much as he hated to admit it, he had fallen headfirst for Honey. He had even thought that she might’ve been the one. She had issues, but who didn’t? Shai liked the way it felt being with Honey. Her smell, her touch. All of these things made him want to explore her more. But she hadn’t been honest with him. He understood her point of view, but his ego wouldn’t let him accept it.

 
But Honey wasn’t the only one to blame; Tommy had just as big a hand in it as she. He knew Shai was seeing Honey, but didn’t bother to tell him about their past. Maybe it was a passing fling, or maybe it was more. It still didn’t excuse Tommy for his deceit. Shai had to get up out of there and clear his head. He informed his party that he was ready to leave, and they followed him out.

  Gator and Paula were having a ball, so Shai didn’t want to ruin that because he was going through some bullshit. He agreed to continue the date, but had little to no conversation with Honey. The group decided to move the date to Times Square. They hit a few different spots and did some light window-shopping. They didn’t have a particular destination, they were just four young people out having a good time. Until the bullshit started.

  Honey and the group were coming out of another store, when she saw a familiar face. Her heart jumped into her throat at the sight of Ahmad's little brother, Rah. He was a notorious troublemaker and was sure to try and start some shit if he saw her. Honey tried to turn her head before he noticed her, but she was too late.

  “Yo, what up, shorty?” Rah said, loud enough for the whole block to hear him. Honey ignored him. “Oh, you can’t speak? I hearthat, hot shit. You wit’ ya lil’ boyfriend,” he said, motioning to Shai, “so you ain’t got no rap for a nigga. Let's see what Bone has to say about this.”

  “Don’t you niggaz ever learn?” Shai asked, coming to her rescue. “We’ve had this conversation already.”

  “Wasn’t nobody talking to yo’ punk ass,” Rah said to Shai.

  “Fuck is you talking to,” Gator said, stepping up. “I’ll lay you out, faggot.”

  “Chill,” Shai said, holding his cousin back. “Why don’t you take that shit uptown, shorty? This is grown folks’ business.”

 

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