“Look, let's stay focused. Because what I am about to ask you is very critical.”
I sucked my teeth. “What is it?” I asked, not really wanting to hear his reply.
“Do you know if you were transporting drugs to that drop-off location you just left?”
“I'm sure I was.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because he had over a dozen Black Ice incense dangling from the rearview mirror, so he could cover up the smell.”
“Could you tell what it was?”
“No, I couldn't. The incenses were too strong. They almost gave me a fucking headache, which is why I rolled down the driver side window.”
“I heard him tell you to tell the guy Manuel that the stuff was in the glove compartment. But did he indicate how much was in there?”
“No. I was only told to relay the message, ask for the black bag and then hand the guy the keys to the rental.”
“Did you know what was in the black bag?”
“It felt like a lot of money.”
“Could you tell about how much it was?”
“No.”
“Well, while you were at the back door were you able to see into the house?”
“Yes. A little bit, why?”
“Could you see how many people were in there?”
“I only saw one other guy besides Manuel. But I heard that guy talking to someone else.”
“So you're saying that there were two other guys in the house with Manuel.”
“Yeah. That's exactly what I'm saying.”
“Okay. I think that's all I need.”
“So I get to take this wire off?”
“No, of course not. We're not done yet.”
“But, you just said that's all you needed.”
Sean chuckled at me as if he was amused by my comment. “I wasn't talking about the case itself. I was talking about the drop-off you just made.”
“So what happens now?”
“You gotta get more information for us.”
“Haven't I gotten enough? I practically got Bishop to admit that Bria was dead. And that he had something to do with it.”
“No. He didn't admit to anything. Telling you he loved her and that they were really close, will not tell the judge or jury that he murdered her. Now it tells us that he had something to do with her disappearance. But we need more than that. We need something concrete, like her body with his DNA all over it or a confession. If we can't get that, then we are fighting an uphill battle.”
I stood there with the most disgusted expression I could muster up. I had no words for Sean. So the only thing that was left for me to do was to shake my head at him.
Noticing how upset I had become, he ended our little chat by saying, “It will all be over soon. Oh, and by the way, even though you couldn't get a confession, I commend you for getting him to give us an idea about whether or not she was still alive.”
“Oh, really! Is that it?” I replied sarcastically.
He smiled. “What else do you want? I’ve already given you a get-out-of-jail-free card. Be happy with that,” he mocked me and then he walked away.
I was burning up inside thinking about how the niggas with badges were more crooked than the niggas in the streets. Sean had just confirmed how they could care less about the well being of their informants. All they cared about was using them to make their cases and then they throw them to the fucking wolves.
I was sure he treated Bria the same way. And by that, I knew she was made to turn on her brother for those bastards. But guess what? Fuck them and their motherfucking case, because I was going to have the last fucking laugh.
As far as Bishop was concerned, I realized he was about Bishop. He didn’t give a fuck about me or the next bitch. And when it was all said and done, he’d figure out that I didn’t give a fuck about him too. It was all about Lynise from this day forward.
I’m not to be trusted!
Cheaper to Keep Her part 3 Unique
I Didn’t See This Coming – Chapter Twelve
Bishop returned an hour and a half later. I had taken a shower and changed into a pair of white jean shorts and a very colorful v-neck t-shirt. Normally, I would wear a pair of classy sandals with three to four inch heels. But after all the drama I had attracted from Bishop’s other woman, Keisha, and the Feds, I decided to wear Nike running sneakers, just in case I had to fight or make a run for it. Before I left the apartment, I made sure the wire was secure around the waistband of my jean shorts. I wasn’t about to have any mix-ups . . . because my life depended on it.
It was Thursday morning and Bishop’s idea to drive to the New York. I was really shocked when he jumped on the New Jersey Turnpike and headed north. One part of me was excited, but the other half of me became a little paranoid. I figured anything could happen to me in New York and there was nothing the Feds could do to stop it. Was he taking me there to test my loyalty to him once again? Or did he just plan to take a load off and show me a good time? Knowing that I didn’t have the slightest clue, I hoped and prayed that Sean or the other agents weren’t too far behind us.
Shortly after we arrived in New York, Bishop suggested we go to his favorite Japanese restaurant, Benihana. Japanese food was one of my favorites, so I welcomed the idea.
When we pulled up to the restaurant in downtown Manhattan, he handed one of the valet drivers his keys to the car and then we went inside. Everything from the food to the service was excellent. I hadn’t had this much fun in a very long time. Immediately after we left the restaurant Bishop took me on a tour of Manhattan and then we ended up driving to Harlem.
“I need to make a quick stop and then we’ll head back to Newark,” he told me.
My mind quickly went into overdrive when he told me he needed to make a quick stop. I wasn't stupid. I knew that meant he needed to either make a drug pickup or he needed to make contact with his drug connection. I had been with enough drug dealers to know that no one talked and made deals over the phone. Deals were made in person. So that's exactly what Bishop wanted to do.
I thought we would be going to one of the projects in the city, but I was wrong. Bishop had to meet his connection at this Cuban restaurant in Spanish Harlem. There were at least ten Hispanic men standing outside the restaurant. I could tell that some of them were runners and the other ones were the lookout. Some of them looked to be sixteen, while the others appeared to be eighteen or older. After Bishop exited the car, one of the guys escorted him into the restaurant. I sat there and watched as the operation unfolded.
My heart began to race while I sat in the car all alone. Between watching the guys standing outside the restaurant and watching the prostitutes working their magic on the opposite corner, I wondered whether Sean and/or the other agents followed us to the city, and whether or not they had this place under surveillance as well.
The traffic going in and out of this place was an easy target for the Feds. So I would hate to be in the area when the agents tried to shut it down. I could see these young guys pulling out all the stops to keep themselves from going down, which, at worse, would start a vicious war.
I twiddled my thumbs for a full twenty minutes while I waited for Bishop's return. And just when I was about to go inside the restaurant to see why it was taking him so long, he came walking back outside with a brown paper bag in hand, looking like he had just ordered a meal to go. He was smiling from ear to ear. If I hadn't known better, I would've thought that he'd just won the fucking lottery.
“What are you so happy about?” I asked the moment he got back into the car.
“I'm happy because today has been a prosperous day for me,” he replied and then he sat the brown paper bag on the floor in the back seat.
Since he left the car running while he was inside of the restaurant, he put the control stick in drive and then he pulled back on the road. “Ready to go back to Jersey?” he continued as he maneuvered in and out of traffic.
“I was ready to go back to Je
rsey after we ate at the restaurant,” I expressed.
“Well, don't worry. I'll have you back at the crib in no time.”
“I take it that you're going to drop me off.”
“Yeah. But it's only for a little while. And after I make a few runs, then I'll come back to spend some time with you.”
He reached over and rubbed my left side. As he worked his way up my thigh I knew he would try to stick his hand down the front of my shorts, so he could feel on my pussy and get it wet. But I grabbed his hand and stopped him before things got out of hand.
“No, don't do that. You know you're gonna get my panties soaked and wet,” I whined, trying to play hard to get.
“That's what I want you to do,” he replied as he continued to rub his hand on my thigh.
“Don't start something you can't finish,” I threatened jokingly. But quiet as it was kept, the wire I had was hidden right below the button of my shorts. If Bishop would've gotten wind of that, I'd be for certain a dead bitch. God knows there's nothing I'd be able to do to stop him from killing me.
During most of the drive back to Jersey, I had to wrestle Bishop's hands from touching me in the wrong places. Luckily for me, his cell phone rang. It was like music to my ears. From the moment he answered, I knew it was a business call. He tried to speak in codes, but being a chick from the streets, I was able to read between the lines. I was sure if Sean or the other agents were listening, then they knew what time it was too, assuming they could speak street.
“You will not believe what I got my hands on,” he said to the caller. “It's ripe and ready to go.”
I couldn't hear anything the caller was saying in return, but I heard him laughing, so I figured he was happy with the news Bishop had just given him.
Before Bishop hung up the phone, he instructed the caller to call all of his people and tell them to get ready because they were about to get some money.
After Bishop got the caller pumped up, I heard him shouting on the other end with pure excitement. For a minute there, I wanted to get excited for them. But when I looked casually through the passenger side-view mirror and noticed the two white FBI agents following us down the New Jersey Turnpike, I lost all sense of excitement. They reminded me that there wasn't a thing about my situation to be excited about. Just that thought snapped me back to reality.
To my surprise, that reality wasn’t as jaw dropping as the one I was about to get. Not long after Bishop hung up the phone, he started acting really weird. When he pressed down on the accelerator and began to look through his rearview mirror every other second, I knew he suspected that we were being followed.
I tried to act as normal as I possibly could, but his actions made me uncomfortable. I couldn't pretend that I hadn't noticed how he was acting.
“What's wrong with you?” I asked. I said it in a tone that made him realize that I was really concerned.
“I'm cool,” he said. But his body language said something differently.
“Well, if you're cool, then what are you trying to see in your rearview mirror? You've looked through it at least a dozen times since you got off the phone.”
“I'm trying to see if those two crackers in that black Suburban are following me.”
“Where are they?” I said and then I turned to my left to look over my shoulder. But midway through my turn, Bishop stopped me.
“Don't look back! They might see you!” he shouted.
“I wasn’t going to turn all the way around,” I assured him.
“Look, don't draw any attention to us. If you wanna see who I'm talking about, then look through your side mirror. They’re four cars behind us.”
I leaned forward just a little bit and acted as if I was trying to get a glimpse of the two white men Bishop had become leery of.
“Can you see them?” he asked.
“Yeah. I see them. But why would they be following us?” I asked, trying to play the dumb role. I did this to see if he would come clean with the real reason why we went to New York. But he didn't fall for my tactic.
“I don’t know,” he answered as he continued to look over his shoulder and through the rearview mirror.
I could count the number of times using all of my fingers and toes that he looked back at the Feds while they followed us. I tried to make him relax a little, but all of my attempts fell. Thank God they decided to make a detour after tailing us for over twenty-five miles. I believe if they would’ve stay with us for at least ten more miles, Bishop would have caused a major accident on this very busy highway, leaving a lot of innocent people hurt or worse, dead.
I let out a sigh of relief after they were gone. Although I knew I’d see them in the near future, the thought of getting back to the apartment in one piece was good enough for me.
Thank God for blessings!
Cheaper to Keep Her part 3 Unique
Back At the Crib – Chapter Thirteen
I noticed Sean's vehicle wasn't parked in its designated spot when Bishop and I arrived back at the apartment. I couldn't help but wonder where he was and what he was up to. He was the head investigative agent assigned to investigate Bishop and his crew. Was he also following us? Sometimes the cops and Feds used multiple cars when tailing a suspect. So I figured wherever he was and whatever he was doing was probably in effort to wrap this case up.
Inside of the apartment, Bishop sat the bag down on the kitchen table and then he went into the bathroom. Immediately after I heard his piss hitting the toilet water, I quickly turned my attention to the bag on the table. The wheels in my mind were spinning like crazy. Curiosity was eating away at me like an energized Ms. Pacman ate her enemies. I wanted to look inside that bag so bad. The only thing that stopped me from doing so was the fact that Bishop had bionic ears and he would hear the bag rattle as soon as I touched it.
So once again I found myself leaving well enough alone. Hell, I already knew there were drugs inside of it. I couldn't tell you which kind, but I knew there was a lot of it. Whoever Bishop was talking to while we were on our way back from New York had already been forewarned that they were about to get paid.
Bishop's cell phone started ringing the exact same time he was coming out of the bathroom. “What's good?” he asked the caller.
I was sitting on the living room sofa. When he came back into the living room, his whole mood changed. I couldn't hear what the caller was saying to him. But I could tell that Bishop was spooked. He stood there in the middle of the floor and looked at me as if he could see directly through me. My heart rate picked up instantly and I could feel my entire body began to perspire.
I wanted to ask him what was wrong. But my lips wouldn’t move. Then I thought about how I was going to get out of that apartment alive if that call was pertaining to me.
I knew I wouldn't be able to get away from him on feet because he could run faster than me. But maybe if I was able to knock him out with something that'll put him out of commission for at least a couple of minutes, if not longer, I'd be able to do a homestretch.
While my mind was going haywire and I was contemplating my escape, Bishop finally opened his mouth and said, “I can't believe that that shit just happened. Me and Lynise just left that spot a couple of hours ago. And you mean to tell me that them crackers ran up in there that quick? Yo, I swear, somebody around us is either talking their asses off or those crackers were on to them long before we started throwing business their way.”
After Bishop gave his spiel, he fell silent and listened to the caller. Once again, I couldn't hear what the other caller was saying. When Bishop turned away from me and walked back into the kitchen, he made it almost impossible for me to get the scope of things surrounding the conversation.
The upside to this whole situation was that I had no prior knowledge about that dropout I made to that guy, Manuel, until we were in route to the location. If Bishop wanted to point fingers and find someone to blame, then it wouldn't be me.
What a joy that was to me? The thought of that was
like music to my ears. Now I could exhale and relax, knowing that I was okay for the moment.
During his conversation, Bishop made it crystal clear how angry he was and then he swore he would find out who was behind Manuel's spot getting ransacked by the police.
“Man, I swear to God, I am going to find out who snitched them niggas out like that,” Bishop began. “Because that shit looks really bad on my part. It wouldn't shock me if them niggas think I did. And I can't have that shit over my head. Niggas around here would lose respect for me if they thought I had something to do with them niggas getting arrested. And check it, we can't blame this shit on baby girl because she's out of the picture. So whoever did this, knew about the drop right after Manuel gave us the green light.”
After listening to the caller on the other end, Bishop said, “I understand all of that, but we have nothing to worry about. Even though the truck is in her name, they can't link it back to us because she's not here. Now take a load off and fire up one of those expensive ass cigars you got and call it a night. Oh yeah, don’t forget to change your number. The way Manuel’s spot got shut down, we could never be too careful. Who knows, the FEDS could put so much pressure on that nigga, that he’ll bitch up and rat all our asses out. And with everything we got going on, we can’t have that.”
The caller finished off his conversation with a few more words and after Bishop told him that he planned to change his cell phone number as well, they ended their call.
Immediately after Bishop pressed the END button on his keypad, he grabbed the bag from the kitchen table and walked back into the living room, where I was pretending to watch TV. He knew I heard bits and pieces of his conversation, so he stopped in the middle of the floor with a blank look on his face and asked me if I remembered leaving anything inside of that Jeep Cherokee truck before I got out of it?
Cheaper to Keep Her part 3 (More Money More Problems) Page 9
