Entangled

by Elliott, K

  Dream took a deep breath then ran her fingers through her hair. “I don’t want to get hurt. Marriages are meant to last forever.”

  “And we’ll be together forever.” Jamal responded.

  “I don’t know if I can live with the fact that my man has tried to have sex with my best friend. You know, if we get married both of you will be part of my life forever. How will I get over thoughts that you may be looking at her sexually? You may be attracted to her more than you are to me.” Her voice cracked as if she were about to cry.

  Jamal stood and hugged Dream. “Baby, I know I’m not perfect. Lord knows I’ve made many mistakes. I swear to you, you’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

  Dream pushed Jamal away. “Jamal, I love you, too, but many changes have to be made if we want this relationship to work.”

  “I promise you, I’ll change,” Jamal said softly.

  *** The third day of spring, U.S. Attorney David Ricardo convinced a federal grand jury to indict Dawg, superceding Connie and Jennifer’s indictment. The grand jury had refused to indict Jamal and Angelo. The evidence simply wasn’t there. Jeremiah was pleased, though, because he thought Dawg would cooperate to bring down Jamal and Angelo. Mark had pleaded for more time to get closer to Jamal. He knew there was no longer a chance to connect with Jamal.

  It was 6:00 A.M. when the task force comprised of local policemen, U.S. Marshals, and DEA agents used a battering ram to knock Dawg’s door down. When he looked up there were three Marshals pointing automatic weapons at his head.

  “Put your damn hands up where I can see them!” one of them shouted.

  Dawg slowly held his hands up and was yanked off the bed. He was handcuffed, and the gun inside the nightstand was confiscated. “Will somebody tell me what in the hell is going on?” he asked.

  “We have a warrant for your arrest, Steven,” Mark said before he ordered the other agents to search the house.

  Dawg’s eyes met Mark’s, and then he started to laugh. “This is a joke, right, TJ?”

  Mark pulled his DEA badge from his pocket and showed it to Dawg. “I’m afraid not. This is serious business. You’ve been indicted by the federal government.”

  “For what?”

  “Cocaine conspiracy,” Mark replied.

  “So you’re really working for the fucking cops, huh?”

  “I guess you can say that,” Mark said. “Take Mr. Davis downtown. We’ll search the apartment.”

  Two local cops picked Dawg up from the floor and forced him toward the front door of the apartment. He stopped and turned to face Mark. “You know, I would have never thought you were a fucking sellout, low-down-ass cop.”

  “I know, which is why you’re in deep shit”

  The search yielded cell phone records, rental car receipts, and $120,000 in cash, all of which would be used in court. Mark was hoping they would find some product but was satisfied with the evidence that was gathered.

  *** “Yo, man, I’m locked up,” Dawg said over the phone. Jamal sat up in the bed and wiped his eyes. He glanced at his clock. It was ten in the morning and he was still half asleep. “I told you to pay that child support. How can you be so stupid?”

  “I’m not locked up for child support, man. The Feds came and got me this morning.”

  After a long pause, Jamal finally spoke. “What do you mean the Feds?”

  “The DEA came and arrested me for drug conspiracy.”

  Jamal stood and paced nervously. “Are they looking for me?”

  “Naw, man. You wasn’t on the indictment, just me and those two chicks from Cali. It was a superceding indictment. They had already indicted the chicks months ago.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive. What I need you to do is to get me a lawyer so I can find out what in the hell is going on. I go to court in the morning for arraignment.”

  “You got that. I’ll make sure you have one of the best,” Jamal said before hanging up.

  *** Dawg was arraigned and denied bond. Hours later, two Marshals brought him to an interrogation room for questioning. Mark, Jeremiah, and U.S. Attorney David Ricardo were present. “Good morning, Mr. Davis,” Mark said.

  Dawg leaned his head back, avoided eye contact with Mark, and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know what make brothers get with the white man and bring other brothers down.”

  “Don’t give me that white man shit!” David shouted. “The bottom line is, everyone in the room is from different backgrounds. We all had the same choices to make. It just so happened you made the wrong choices.”

  “I can’t believe this shit,” Dawg said. “Well, believe it, and also believe that you’re facing a life sentence,” David said.

  “I’m going to go to trial on these charges. I ain’t accepting no plea, and I definitely ain’t helping ya’ll mu’fuckas bring other people down,” Dawg replied.

  Mark pulled a small black device from a manila envelope. He turned the device on and a recording of Dawg’s voice suddenly filled the room. “Oh, we got plenty, man. It’s the best shit we’ve had in a long time.”

  “How do you think a jury would react to hearing you brag about how good your shit is?” Mark asked.

  “That wasn’t me,” Dawg replied.

  “Sure sounds like you to me,” David said, smiling.

  Dawg met David’s eyes with a hard stare and then placed his feet on the conference table. “I don’t give a fuck what it sounds like. You won’t get me to admit to shit.”

  “Davis, I’ve seen you with drugs; you’ve sold me drugs. Don’t you see you cannot win?” Mark pleaded.

  “I ain’t admitting to shit.”

  “And you are definitely going to get life,” David said.

  “Why am I here talking to you guys in the first place?” Dawg asked as he turned toward Mark.

  Mark paced the floor. “Well, Dawg, it’s like this: Despite the fact that I feel you’re a low-life, I want to help you.”

  “Well, if you want me to turn into an informant, you have the wrong man.”

  “So I guess you don’t want to help yourself,” David said.

  “Take me back to the county jail,” Dawg said.

  *** The inmate visitation room at the county jail held a long line of phones on a Plexiglas partition, separating the inmate from the visitor. Jamal sat in a chair nervously awaiting Dawg’s arrival. When Dawg finally appeared, the two men smiled at each other before picking up the phones.“What’s up?” Jamal asked.

  “A whole bunch of shit is going on.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t really trust these phones,” Dawg said.

  “Keep it clean.”

  Dawg looked over his shoulder at a deputy who was a few feet

  away reading the sports section of the newspaper. “The guy that Ruff introduced me to, TJ, turned out to be a DEA agent.” Jamal’s jaw dropped. “So what’s up with Ruff? Has he been indicted?”

  “I don’t think so. I think he’s informing, though.”

  This made sense to Jamal since Ruff was the guy who had introduced TJ, and he had not been indicted. “Has anybody said anything about me?”

  “They brought me in to interrogate me, but I didn’t cooperate with them. I didn’t give them a chance to ask me nothing.”

  Jamal nodded. “Is there anything you want me to do for you?”

  “I just need you to get me an attorney, man. I really ain’t got no money since the Feds took my stash.”

  “Okay, you have my word, I’ll get you the best attorney.”

  “What about the girls? How do they come into the picture?”

  Dawg shrugged. “I really don’t know. All I know is that their names were on the indictment. The Feds must have linked them to me or something.”

  “Time’s up, guys,” the deputy said.

  Dawg stood and smiled at Jamal once again. “I’m going to be a’ight, man. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I know you’re going to be a’ight,” Jamal sa
id before turning and walking out of the door. He really wanted to believe everything was going to be okay, but somehow he couldn’t.

  *** Jamal didn’t know where to turn. His childhood friend was now in custody, and he knew it would be a matter of time before the Feds came after him—if they weren’t already looking for him. He needed someone to talk to, someone who could probably make some kind of sense of this whole situation. He knew Dream wouldn’t understand, and he knew he shouldn’t call Angelo because he didn’t want to say too much over the telephone since there was a strong possibility that his phone was tapped. After serious contemplation, he called Tony. For some reason, Jamal felt he would have some answers. They decided to meet at Starbucks again.

  Jamal and Tony sat outside as a huge crimson sun beamed brightly. Tony was surprised to learn about Dawg’s detention.

  “What in the hell did I pay you for?” Jamal asked.

  “For protection from the DEA.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Jamal replied.

  Tony sipped his cappuccino slowly. “Well, you didn’t get indicted, did you?”

  Jamal tapped the table nervously. “No, not yet. But who’s to say that it isn’t going to happen.”

  “You’re right. It very well might happen. You boys should have stopped dealing when I told you about the investigation. I know you didn’t think the protection was going to last forever.”

  “Listen, man, I don’t want to hear about what we should have done. The bottom line is, we chose to keep going. What I need for you to do is ask the agent if they’re still trying to indict my black ass, and if so, can I pay my way out.” Jamal’s eyes were intense.

  Tony placed the Styrofoam coffee cup on the table. “I’ll call you tonight.”

  *** Later that night Tony called Jamal. “I have some good news for you,” Tony sighed. “Dawg ain’t informing on you.”

  “I already knew that. What else can you tell me?”

  At this point, there is nothing we can do to help him. He is more than likely going to prison for a long time. It seems like Dawg has been selling to an agent and his case is pretty much open and shut.”

  A brief silence subdued them. Jamal thought about his friend who had been jailed a few times in the past but had never actually done any prison time. Prison was a dreadful experience that Jamal didn’t wish on his worst enemy. “So can I pay your man some more money like I did the last time to get them to ease off me?” Jamal asked.

  “No. There is nothing I can do about it now. You guys should have stopped when I warned you the last time.”

  “I didn’t know Dawg was dealing with the DEA.”

  “ Jamal, my advice to you is just lay low. If your boy don’t go running off at his mouth, you may have a chance, but you need to stop dealing.”

  CHAPTER 20

  D REAM’S LONG LEGS CLUTCHED his waist. Jamal breathed heavily as entered her. He kissed her passionately as her wet tongue whirled around in his ear. He loved when she did that; it made him harder. He also liked the fact that she was open and willing to try new things.

  Twenty minutes and three positions later, they stopped, and a tear rolled down her cheek. The sex was so good. He lit a Black and Mild cigar and sat up on the edge of the bed.

  “Since when did you start smoking cigars?” she asked. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been stressing lately,” he said as he exhaled.

  She stared at him. His eyes were heavy, and he looked as though he had gained a few pounds around the midsection. “What’s wrong now?”

  “The Feds locked Dawg up on drug charges.”

  She looked him in the eye. “When did this happen?”

  “About two weeks ago.”

  “So what does this mean for you?”

  He stood and put his boxer shorts on before answering. “Nothing, I hope.”

  “But you don’t know whether you’re going to jail or not, do you?”

  “No, I really don’t.” He sat back on the bed and dropped his head.

  “Well that’s just fuckin’ wonderful. The man I am about to marry is going to prison. Let me tell you something, Jamal, I am not going to be spending my weekends visiting nobody at no damn prison.”

  Jamal was dizzy from the cigar. He put it out in a Mountain Dew can that was on the floor. “I ain’t going to jail.”

  “I guess this means you’re going to stop,” she said.

  “No, this means that if the police, FBI, DEA, or anybody else comes to get me, they better be ready to die, because I will die before I go back to jail.”

  Dream stood and slipped on some gray gym shorts that were lying on the dresser. “I can’t believe you’re talking like this. What are you, stupid or something? I mean, first these two girls get locked up, then your boy goes to jail. You might be next, but you don’t want to stop? Instead you are making preparations to shoot it out with the police. Jamal, you’re going to have to stop if we’re going to get married.”

  Jamal avoided Dream’s eyes. “I already told you I was going to stop, but right now I need to make some money just in case the bastards are lucky enough to catch me with my guards down. I won’t be broke doing time. Plus, I’m gonna have to get Dawg a lawyer and retain one for myself.”

  She suddenly remembered what Keisha had said about finding his mother. “I almost forgot to tell you that Keisha knows a private investigator who can probably find your mother if she can get a birth date and birthplace.”

  “She was born November 17, 1954, in Orangeburg, South Carolina.”

  Dream walked to the kitchen, opened the junk drawer, retrieved a pen, and quickly jotted the information down. She could tell by Jamal’s response that he really wanted some kind of closure in his search for his mother.

  *** Jamal paid fifty-thousand dollars for Dawg’s legal defense. After he had left Dawg’s attorney’s office, Jamal and Dream visited Jamal’s old defense counsel for consultation. Thomas Henry was a board-certified criminal defense lawyer who specialized in drug cases. Thomas was a short, plump, white man with a receding hairline. He wore his hair in a ponytail. He drove a blue convertible Jaguar with ACQUIT on the license plate.

  Thomas had represented Jamal on his last case. Initially Jamal was sentenced to twenty years, but Thomas had argued on a sentencing issue and got it reduced to five years on appeal. It had cost Jamal $75,000, but he felt he couldn’t put a price on his freedom.

  Thomas and Jamal shook hands as soon as they saw each other. “Hey, buddy. It’s been a long time,” Thomas said. He turned to Dream and smiled.

  “Yeah, almost six years,” Jamal said.

  “Have a seat,” Thomas pointed to the two plush burgundy leather chairs that were in front of his desk. “What you got for me?”

  “How much will you charge me for a retainer?”

  “Is it a state or federal case?”

  “Federal,”

  “Usually it’s thirty thousand for a federal case, but for you, I’ll work something out since we go back,” Thomas said, smiling.

  “I need to retain you now. I got a feeling I’m about to have a case real soon,” Jamal said as Dream looked on, concerned.

  “Why do you say that?” Thomas asked.

  Jamal turned from his gaze and Dream grabbed his hand. “Let’s just say a few people I know have been indicted for a drug conspiracy.”

  “How do you know these people?” Thomas asked as he placed his elbows on the desk and rested his chin in the palm of his hands.

  “I just know them from hanging out.”

  Thomas looked at him suspiciously. “Now, Jamal, you know I know the game and besides, I’m on your side. Now if you want me to help, you must tell me what’s going on. I am not authorized to repeat anything that you say. Everything that goes on in this office is confidential.”

  For the next twenty-five minutes Jamal disclosed all his dealings to Thomas. He told him about the California trips, his relationship with Tony, and the knowledge that Tony had given him about the DEA seeking an
indictment. Thomas didn’t say anything; he just nodded and scribbled on a legal pad.

  Dream was amazed at the whole story. It’s better than watching the Sopranos, she thought. She had known about most of Jamal’s involvement, but today was the first time she had heard about Tony and his involvement with the DEA.

  “Do you think you can help me?” Jamal asked.

  “Technically, Jamal, since you are not indicted, there’s nothing I can really do. I’ve got a few sources downtown in the U.S. Attorney’s office; I’ll keep my ear to the ground and see what I can find out for you.”

  “Now, how much should I expect for you to charge me for the retainer?”

  Thomas leaned back in his chair and began to run his fingers through his oily ponytail before saying, “Since you don’t actually have a case yet, I’ll say fifteen thousand dollars. I’m going to need an additional $45,000 before I can represent you in a trial.”

  “I understand. Do you still take cash?”

  “I’m not supposed to, but since it’s you, I’ll do it.”

  Jamal smiled. “You know I’ve always been a cash-money type of guy.”

  Thomas stood and walked over to the oak double doors and turned the gold lock. “Do you have the money on you now?”

  “Yeah,” Jamal said before opening a black leather bag. The money was in thousand- dollar stacks. Jamal counted fifteen stacks.

  Dream couldn’t believe what she had witnessed. In less than an hour she had seen Jamal spend $65,000 in cash for attorney’s fees for him and Dawg. It was no secret that Jamal and Dawg had been up to no good, but the attorneys were bigger crooks than the dealers were. The sad part was that they were robbing people, legitimately, with outrageous fees.

  When they left the attorney’s office Dream noticed Jamal looked sad and he wasn’t saying much in the car. “What’s wrong, baby?” she asked.

  “I feel like a goddamn fool. I only have eighty grand left. The fucking lawyers are breaking my ass. I need to make some money.”

  She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want him to feel this way, and she certainly didn’t want him to think that he needed to have a whole bunch of money to have her affection. “I can sell my ring and the Mercedes. Those things aren’t important. The only thing that’s important is the way that I feel about you,” she said as she placed her hand on his ear.