Mobley picked up the receiver of the desktop conference phone. He dialed the number and put it on speaker phone. Agent Reddick heard the other phone ringing. The call was immediately connected.
“Warden Lucas here.”
“Lucas. Chief Officer Mobley here. I understand you’re trying to reach me.” He had already been prepped by a private source.
“Yes. Listen. I’m gonna be up front with you, Mobley. The bottom line is you haven’t got anything on Ms. Fields. Please, it’s in both of your best interests to release her.”
“Well, we need more time,” Mobley explained.
“I understand your position. Please, I’m going to ask you to understand mine. In half a week, we’ve had a young nineteen-year-old woman butchered under her order. Really butchered. I took the liberty of faxing over the photos to your department.”
Mobley silently pulled the pictures out of the same drawer that the newspaper was in and handed them over to Agent Reddick to view for himself, which he did. His cringed facial expression revealed the gruesomeness he felt inside.
Warden Lucan continued, “And, of course as I’m sure you’re used to, we have no leads. No witnesses. Not even the victim herself will give us anything.”
“Well, how do you know it related to my detainee?” Mobley tested.
“Simple. Apparently, Ms. Fields’s got a soft side after all. The day after her cellmate received information on a superseding indictment due to the victim’s testimony, this happened. Trust me, her cellmate has nowhere near this type of power. That brings me to my next issue: a double homicide. In prison! My prison.”
“From what I understand, they overdosed. And they were known drug abusers,” Mobley probed.
“Correct. And they had been using while incarcerated. I admit that. But somehow, it wasn’t until they had an altercation with Ms. Fields that this happened. Also, the next day, I must say, she enforced repercussions pretty quick. And, of course, there’s no way to indict Ms. Fields on this but, once again, I’m sure you’re familiar with that feeling. That brings me to my next issue. One of my officers was raped. He was sodomized with plungers and broomsticks by several of the female inmates. Of course, I’m sure it all sounds familiar to you. Sadly, here’s the bad part. We can’t prosecute. First of all, once again, as usual, there’s no evidence linking this directly to Ms. Fields. However, the suspects are her codefendants. They’ll never talk. In fact, they’re not even denying the crime.
“See, here’s the dilemma. Apparently, Office Williams had been sexually active and even abusive with many of the female inmates for quite some time. Truthfully, we knew of it, but it was under wraps. His father is well respected and holds high rank. If we choose to prosecute his son, the political backfire will be irreparable. Many of the female inmates are lined up to either testify or provide sworn affidavits against us if we choose to go after the girls involved. So it’s in our best interest to transfer Office Williams to an all men’s facility when he recovers. We can’t even fire him. We need both sides to feel as if they won. Ironically, in doing so, we lose both sides.”
“So, what now?” Mobley asked.
“Here’s the point. I will detain Ms. Fields for only one more week. Just until her next bail hearing. I am prepared to bail her out myself or boldly let her go free. Whichever comes first. I want her as far away from my world as possible. I’ll stick to the usual drug kingpins and scam artists. Or even the old, organized crime members such as the Mafia. What you have cursed me with here is something new and beyond my control. Do you play poker, Chief Mobley?”
Mobley’s face wrinkled up with confusion. “I do,” he confirmed.
“Good. That means you know how to fold. One week, Mobley. One week!”
The line disconnected.
Mobley mean-mugged Agent Reddick. “I thought I could count on you to clean up McCarthy’s mess, not make one bigger than the BP oil spill. I’m removing you from the OCD. I gotta find McCarthy.
“What?” Agent Reddick yelled, jumping from his seat.
Mobley leaned back in his chair. “I gotta! There’s no other choice. No other solution. McCarthy’s got somethin’ you’ll never have. You wouldn’t even get close.”
“What’s that?” Agent Reddick snapped.
“Someone on the inside.”
Chapter 9
To make things easier, Teya moved into Starr’s former cell with Kathy. Kathy was distraught. She had been crying her heart out ever since Starr was hauled back away to the Special Housing Unit (SHU). The prison claimed it was for Starr’s own safety, but it really was for everyone else’s but hers. Under these conditions, they were back to being able to monitor her every move. Legally, they couldn’t deny her the privileges of visitation and phone use, but at least they got to keep track of who she was communicating with.
Starr lay stretched out with hands folded behind her head in the tiny six-by-nine solitary confinement cell after unsuccessfully trying to reach Diamond to let her know she had been moved. Since being back in custody, she had to deal with Diamond’s phone always going straight to voicemail whenever she called, despite the fact that it was for good reason. She just hoped she’d catch her in between breaks in the trial. It was the only time of the day she was allowed to call.
As much as Starr wasn’t happy about it, she understood. Every day, she watched the news or picked up the newspaper and she was reminded of how big a trial it was for Diamond. Because of it, the two of them barely had any communication. But, when one door closed, another one opened, Starr believed. It had been Monica who had been answering her phone calls and being her eyes and ears on the streets while she was on lockdown. She had been the perfect substitution and slowly was beginning to become the main attraction. Starr realized she had acquired feelings Monica during the time she had been incarcerated. Seeing her became the highlight of Starr’s day.
Thanks to Monica, Starr did not have to survive off of the jail’s food. Most of the food trays that came went right back out through the slot untouched. Starr refused to eat the majority of what they tried to feed her. She only ate the fruit or dessert and drank the milk or juice. If it weren’t for Monica’s steady visits, Starr would’ve starved to death. The only time she got a chance to eat was when she was out on the visit. Days had passed, and not one of them went by without her seeing Monica.
And, just to make sure Starr ate well, Monica would stay the full eight hours that was allowed. Sometimes, the two would seem to have run out of stuff to talk about. They would just sit there staring into each other’s eyes while holding hands. Other times, the eight hours didn’t seem like nearly enough. Each day seemed to be more intense than the one before. They both would lie awake at night anxious to see each other the next day.
Monica was completely on point. The many people who sat in the visiting room didn’t even seem to exist as Starr and Monica embraced. The sweet-tasting kiss was extended. Sparks of desire and passion fueled a flame that ignited within both of their souls. The lust that was trapped in their bodies took over their minds, clouding their better judgment. They both had secret plans to cross each other. But, once they were in the same vicinity, the chemistry couldn’t be neglected or ignored. They were supposed to be inseparable by design. Though Starr was much older, it just seemed so divine. They shared a part of each other, a deep connection that went way beyond scratching the surface. When they stared into the depth of each other’s eyes, they were one and the same. It was as if the love was there before they had ever met. And in a way, it was.
Clear as day, Starr could vividly remember the very first time that she laid eyes on Monica. It was a full six months before making Prime her target and initiating her to become a Double G.
That night, Starr made one of her usual grand entrances into Club Panties. As she and her entourage were clearing through the dance floor, Monica turned around with half of a drink left in her hand and an overaggressive look for a young woman who was beautiful. Starr was in the center of her crew
and watched, as frustrated Monica boldly strutted after Felicia, then one of Starr’s most trusted friends in the Double Gs organization.
She was in the front of the line. Felicia was startled by the sudden breach. She quickly turned around and reached into her leather jacket, gripping her right-holstered pistol while snapping, as the rest of the Double Gs paused in their tracks. Even Starr smiled like a proud mother, enjoying the good old estrogen-fueled showdown.
“Don’t be touchin’ me, bitch! Get fucked up in here!” Felicia shouted over the music.
Monica wasn’t scared for one second. She ignored the fact that she was highly outnumbered. She was by herself, but she acted as if she had entire army of her own. She snapped back, “Well, then you need to watch exactly where the fuck you’re goin’ ’cause you just bumped me on your way in and I don’t appreciate it. You spilled half my drink, but I’m letting that slide ’cause you ain’t know any betta!” Monica snarled, waving her extended index finger all in Felicia’s face, embarrassing her.
Felicia had no choice other than to pull out her gun and point it at Monica’s stomach, which went unnoticed to most of the people around; or they just pretended not to see anything, which was a number one rule in Club Panties: mind your business.
“How ’bout I pop a hole in ya liver and release the liquor you already did drink tonight, bitch?” Felicia growled.
Monica looked down at the pistol as she lowered her hand from Felicia’s serious face. She placed her hand on her hip as she shifted her weight to her right foot and smiled. She took her left hand and splashed the rest of her drink in Felicia’s eyes. “How ’bout you just wear the rest of the drink? How ’bout that, bitch!”
Felicia instantly dropped the pistol to the floor and flopped on her knees as the liquor burned her eyes. She had on her contacts. The fresh solution didn’t mix well with the alcohol. She couldn’t see a thing. If she would’ve started shooting, she probably would’ve hit everybody but Monica, who had swiftly slid out of the way after taking such a daring chance. Timing was everything.
The rest of the Double Gs rushed toward Monica as she bent down and picked up Felicia’s gun. Monica popped back up pointing it at them, slowing them down into a complete pause as Starr made her way to the front before things got out of hand, while Bubbles helped Felicia back to her feet. Starr raised her right hand in the air to keep the rest of the Double Gs in back of her at bay. She walked up to Monica, smiling while reaching out for the gun. She didn’t wait for Monica to hand it over to her. She gripped the top of it with her palm and slowly switched possession while holding a strong gaze as if she were hypnotizing Monica into submission. Once Starr had the gun, she passed it back to Felicia and then turned to the bartender.
“Give her an open bar tab for the rest of the night!” she shouted before she turned back to Monica. “Have a nice night. C’mon, girls.” Just like that, that flock of women disappeared into the thick crowd. Felicia was the only one who didn’t fall in line. But after hearing the command of Starr’s voice, she followed suit. She made eye contact with Monica as she passed her. The two shot daggers at each other.
(Phase one was complete. Unbeknownst to Starr, Monica’s plan had worked: get noticed.)
When Starr got upstairs to her office, she went straight to her laptop and pulled up the security footage. She searched the entire dance floor for Monica but couldn’t find her. She was gone.
Starr spent all of that first week allowing Monica to cross her mind. She had felt the connection from the very beginning.
The next Friday night quickly cycled around. As Starr and her entourage entered, she skillfully used her eyes to scan the bar and dance floor. There were no signs of Monica. She went upstairs to her office and turned on the computer. She tapped into the surveillance footage of the front entrance and watched it for most of the night. She studied every woman who came in and left. Monica never showed. Starr figured that maybe Monica was just one of the ones to attend for a single experience. Starr could tell she was somewhat young, and she rationalized to herself that maybe Monica was in her experimental stage. The truth was that Monica was in secret training.
The Friday after the last seemed to come around even quicker than the one before. Starr and her team showed up earlier than usual after making rounds of greeting the VIP regulars. Starr made her way to her office, locked the door, and walked to her computer to watch the screen for everyone who entered. At first, she came across a couple of Monica lookalikes who stopped Starr’s heartbeat and breath all in one. But, after Starr pulled up the frame and zoomed in on the faces, they were marked off as accidental imposters.
After an hour and a half of watching beautiful women spill in and out of her club, Starr had given up. Right when she placed her palm high over the flat computer screen to shut it, there Monica was, entering by herself.
Starr tracked Monica’s every move, using all of the ground-level cameras. She watched her register her mink at the coat check, and she zoomed in as she sat at the bar. That’s when Starr picked up the phone and called downstairs.
Bubbles worked as the bartender that night. She returned in front of Monica with her original order—two shots of Rémy Red—and also a bottle of Cristal with a small card attached to the napkin the extra empty glass was set on.
“Umm, excuse me. I didn’t order this.” Monica’s voice heightened over the music.
Bubbles returned a secretly seductive grin. “It’s on the house.” She raised the empty glass to draw Monica’s attention down to the card left on the napkin. “Enjoy. Oh, the card stays here. Memorize it and leave it. Come back next week for further instructions. Have a nice night.” Bubbles stepped off.
Monica looked down at the card and studied it. On one side was simply the name of a drink, so it seemed. The reverse side explained it all in tiny typed words.
You are being scouted as a possible recruit for something very powerful. If you are not interested, then don’t read any further. Simply fold this card in half and set it in the empty glass. If you are interested, memorize the coded drink on the other side. Next Friday, you will go to Club Panties’s VIP level and order this specific drink every week until you are given your target and mission. Once you are given those, there is no turning back. This is your one and only opportunity.
Since that day, Starr secretly observed Monica’s progression with the help of Felicia, who had also grown to love, trust, and respect Monica.
* * *
The visiting room was packed. Starr’s attention became distracted by a baby crying. Both she and Monica set their attention on the incarcerated mother tending to her one-year-old daughter who was just brought to visit by the father.
“Children,” Monica flatly stated.
“Yeah,” Starr agreed as they gazed at the loving affection being given. They both reflected on their own motherless childhoods and tried to remember that same exact feeling of love before they were abandoned. Somehow, they both went down separate roads, and now here they were, in front of each other.
“You should be my baby momma,” Monica joked, lightening up the mood.
Starr giggled at the thought. “Yeah, right. I’m the older one. You should be mines.”
“Age don’t matter,” Monica retorted.
“Oh, yeah? Seniority comes into play when it’s time to get up in the middle of the night and heat up a damn bottle.”
“I’m sure we’d be up anyway,” Monica seductively replied as she kicked off her heel and rubbed her soft foot up and down Starr’s leg to reinforce the sexual innuendo.
Starr’s face gained a shade of complexion as she blushed. Monica felt it was the perfect time to switch the topic when Starr clearly had her guard down.
“Anyway, so, tell me how you got into all of this. I’m not talkin’ ’bout the very beginning. I know we’re not supposed to speak on it, but you can trust me. If it helps, leave names out. I’m curious how you rose to the top so quickly and inherited this all.”
Starr lowe
red her voice in a stern tone. “Monica, you know the rules. The rules were established long before me. I take them seriously,” she stated while staring Monica in her eyes. She was really trying to avoid fulfilling the request. She felt that she had spilled too much to Monica already. Most of it was just ghost stories. Some of it was true. Still, even a little of the truth was way too much. But Monica was just undeniable, and persistent.
“Pleeeeeeease?” Monica begged while batting her long eyelashes.
Starr reluctantly submitted. She was about to share what she hadn’t with anyone else ever before, not even Diamond. She leaned her breasts over the table and lowered her head but kept the eye contact as her tone descended into a softly private one to make sure that no one else could come within earshot. She slowly began.
“Back when I was in college, I had my first real girlfriend. She was beautiful. I was so in love with her throughout my entire freshman year. She loved me too. She was a junior. Real popular. All of the girls liked her, and all of the boys wanted her. Somehow, she managed to stay single until I came along. It was an instant connection. One that couldn’t be denied. Sorta like ours. Our backgrounds were so similar. I grew up without a mother; so did she. In fact, we shared so many of the same childhood experiences. Anyway, we became inseparable. We did everything together. Eat, sleep, bathe, study. If it were possible, we would’ve attended the same classes. But there was just one slight difference that would soon change. She was extra social. A real partygoer. That’s just how college life is. But it was more than just the regular dorm parties. She attended all of the local hotspots in Atlanta.
Watch Out for the Big Girls 3 Page 6
