The Avenged

by Charles Prandy

  “You kiddin’ me? Five years from now, they’re going to be calling me the Rock.” Hernandez flexed his bicep.

  Just as he finished his joke, the garage door opened and a sedan slowly backed out.

  “Look, we’ve got something,” Piler says.

  Hernandez picked up the radio and spoke into it. “We’ve got movement. Dark blue sedan exiting the garage, license plate, Bravo, Roger, Sam, three, zero, nine.

  A deep male voice crackled back. “Got it. We’ll tail it when it passes us.”

  “10-4,” Hernandez answered.

  “What do you think?” Piler asked.

  “Could be nothing or it could be something. Maybe they’re going to the grocery store for some milk and cookies.”

  The dark blue sedan backed out of the driveway and slowly drove away. Just as one side of the garage door closed, the second one opened and a white Lexus SUV slowly pulled out of the garage.

  “Something’s going on,” Hernandez said. He reached for the radio again and spoke into it. “We’ve got a second car coming out of the garage. Looks like it’s probably the wife.”

  “10-4,” came the same deep voice. “Stay on her tail and see what she’s up to.”

  “10-4,” Hernandez replied.

  The white Lexus SUV slowly pulled away from the house and Detectives Hernandez and Piler followed behind.

  Ninety-six

  ALL OF THE LIGHTS in the house were off. I watched from the living room window as the unmarked car followed Mama J out of the neighborhood. My adrenaline was pumped again. I felt refreshed and renewed. I’d been able to take a shower and change clothes. Luckily Pops and I wore the same size. With the dirt and grime from the woods off of me, I was ready to get back into the city and reclaim my life. The life that had been stolen from me.

  I waited a couple of minutes after the cars left before leaving the house. I told my in-laws that there would most likely be another team set up down the road, ready to tail whoever left the house. That’s why the plan was for them to leave in separate cars and at separate times. Now, no one would be around to see me leave the house.

  I had to admit that Angela was as tenacious as anyone I’d ever met. She must have seen something in Pops’ eyes at the church that led her to believe that he could be trusted. Angela had saved my life twice, three times to be exact, but had also taken the lives of others. I hadn’t thought about it much, but once my name was cleared and I was back to being a detective, how would I handle Angela? Would I turn her in or let her go? She’d done good by helping me clear my name, hopefully clear my name, but she also killed men in cold blood. I’d have to cross that bridge if ever I made it there.

  I left through the back door, pushing Angela’s fate to the back of my mind. First, I had to get to her in order to finish the game that was started.

  Luck has a way of making itself available at the most opportune time. While I was trying to figure out a way to get back to the city, Pops mentioned that old man Smitty who lives down the street was on vacation and always left the house and car keys with my in-laws until he got back. The old timer was pushing eighty-five years old but was still sharp as a whip. He’d gone down to Louisiana to visit his daughter and her grandkids and wouldn’t be back for another week.

  We decided that once the police were led away, I would run down the street, fire up the white ’85 Cadillac Eldorado and make my way back to the city. And that’s exactly what I did. I left the neighborhood slow and easy. No cops in sight, no flashing bright lights in the rearview mirror. The great white hope of the Eldorado was going to lead me back home.

  Part Seven: The Avenged

  Ninety-seven

  CARMEN VALERA SAT AT the edge of her plush bed, waiting for the driver who was supposed to pick her up and take her to the judge’s house, where plans had been made for them to take a chartered flight out of D.C. Things were moving faster than expected.

  She called Angela’s phone but got an automated voice response. She left an urgent message for Angela to call her back immediately.

  Two suitcases sat by the front door, packed with all of her clothes. Either way, she wasn’t coming back to this apartment. Her life of living a lie would end tonight. But she must decide which life she wanted to live.

  When she first met Angela, she was immediately attracted to her. Angela was tall, with long blond hair, an hourglass physique and eyes that could take the breath away from any man, or woman. Carmen didn’t think that she could fall in love so fast, but she had. Angela was her goddess, who was sent from heaven to be her life partner, friend and lover.

  They’d shared intimate secrets with each other, secrets that no one else knew. Then Angela’s brother had been murdered and everything changed. Angela grew obsessed with getting back at the men who had killed her brother. She started working out more and taking testosterone hormones. She pushed her body to its physical limit; running, weight-lifting, mixed martial arts seven days a week for hours upon hours. She began losing her womanly figure and started bulking up and looking more like a man. She cut her hair and then started growing facial hair. She wasn’t the same person that Carmen had fallen in love with. But she was still in love with Angela, so much so that she agreed to go with her plan.

  Angela believed the best way to get to the judge was to get to him from the inside. So Carmen posed as an upscale call girl and met the judge at a political gathering in Washington, D.C. Once the judge got a look at Carmen, it was a no-brainer. Carmen was able to learn about the law firm, Faraji Owusu and Stephen Carter. The next target was supposed to have been Nathan Hunt, and then finally the judge, but the plans got screwed up when the detective, Jacob Hayden, had gotten involved.

  Carmen was still able to seduce the judge to the point that he had asked her to marry him. Truth was, when he proposed, she became a little excited. She’d been sleeping with him for over six months, so it was only the natural progression that she’d start to have some kind of feelings for him. To her, he was gentle, kind, compassionate, almost picturesque if there were such a thing. He was the first man she’d been with since she was a teenager dealing with her bi-sexuality, which eventually turned into full lesbianism . No man could arouse her the way a woman could, except the judge. At first, she had faked it, but eventually became very real pleasures of eroticism.

  Could Angela ever please me that way again? She hadn’t seen Angela in nearly two months, and the distance between the two had started to tear at her heart. Love conquers all, right? At least that’s what she’d always been told.

  Just then, she heard a horn beep outside her bedroom window. She looked and saw that the car was there to pick her up. She waved and at the same time, her cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Angela.

  “Hi, baby,” she said.

  “Hey,” Angela replied. “He’s on the move, isn’t he?”

  “Will be in a few hours. He’s chartered a private jet. Told me to pack my bags for a one-way trip. I don’t think he plans on coming back.”

  “Shit, I knew this was going to happen.”

  Carmen still hadn’t gotten used to hearing Angela’s lower voice from the hormones. She missed the way Angela used to talk to her.

  “What do you want me to do?” Carmen asked.

  “Stay on course. I’m meeting Jacob and then I’ll get you out of there. Tonight. It all ends tonight.”

  “Ok. I love—”

  Angela had already hung up.

  Carmen didn’t curse or complain. She simply reached for her bags, turned off the lights and left the apartment.

  It all ends tonight, she thought. She had just confirmed who she was going to be with.

  Ninety-eight

  IT WAS GOOD TO see Angela again, I admitted to myself. In the most twisted turn of events, she was the person I was trying to apprehend for committing a cold, calculated murder, yet she was also the one I needed now more than ever. She’d been able to blend into the crowded city for the past few months while expe
rienced police officers searched for her, so I knew that she was the one person who’d be able to help me get my life back.

  I managed to get out of my in-laws’ neighborhood without incident and made my way back to the city, where Angela was waiting for me in the parking garage on 10th Street next to the Catholic church were Stephen had been killed. I saw the humor in her picking that particular parking garage. That was the place where she had caught me from behind, handcuffed my hands behind my back and told me to leave the case alone. She was trying to warn me even back then to drop the case, but I hadn’t listened.

  I spotted her car on the third level and parked a few spaces from it. She was waiting for me, just like she said she would be. The garage was full of cars this evening, which was good. It gave us more cover to blend in and not be noticed.

  “Hey,” I said, getting into the front passenger seat.

  “Good to see you made it out alive.”

  “Don’t know what I would have done if my father-in-law hadn’t been there. Guess I would have been dog food for those hungry German shepherds.”

  “You’re one crazy SOB, if I do say so myself. I mean, what made you think you could get away in the woods on a motorcycle in the first place?”

  “Worked, didn’t it? I’m here.”

  “Barely. Next time, you need to stick with me. Would have saved the both of us a whole lot of time and heartache.”

  “You were worried about me, huh?” I teased.

  Angela smiled, and for the first time, I saw past the disguise that the hormones had done to her face and saw a beautiful woman.

  “You’re just lucky that someone else was on your side.”

  I thought about the experience I had in the woods and couldn’t have agreed more. Seconds later, Angela turned serious again.

  “My inside contact informed me that the judge is going to be on the move. He’s chartered a flight. If we want to catch him, we need to do so soon.”

  “Any idea where he is?”

  “His place.”

  I rubbed the stubble of my facial hair as I thought about the situation. The detective in me wanted to call the police and have this end legally. The problem we’d face was that we couldn’t prove anything. We couldn’t prove that they had killed Theresa and we couldn’t prove that the judge was tied to the law firm. Plus, with the judge’s connections to the judicial system and, apparently, the police department, they’d discredit anything I said and make me appear to be a loon ready for a straightjacket.

  The other alternative, the one that boiled in my veins, was to seek revenge and kill the bastards that had killed Theresa. The bigger question that filled my mind was could I really do it? Could I really kill a man in cold blood, even when revenge seemed like it was the only option?

  Angela started the car and backed out of the parking lot. I’d know my answer pretty soon.

  Ninety-nine

  THE JUDGE’S HOUSE WAS to our left. Angela had parked about a block away twenty minutes ago, and I instantly felt that something was wrong. The neighborhood was quiet. Manicured yards with A-frame brick homes lined the peaceful street. An upstairs light in the judge’s house was on, but there weren’t any cars in the driveway and there wasn’t a car parked in front of the house. From where we sat, we couldn’t tell if there was any movement in the house. Angela tried texting Carmen several times with a symbol that they both understood to mean “text me back,” but the return text never came.

  My anxiety level was high and I started to feel as if the judge and his entourage had somehow made it to the airport before we got to the house. If the judge got away, how could I get my life back? How could I ever be the person I used to be?

  I looked at my watch and saw that it was a quarter to ten. I was antsy and knew that I needed to calm down. Watching the house reminded me of the anticipation I used to feel right before a raid. Jumpy nerves, high intensity, pumping adrenaline, the rush of barging into a house and not knowing what was waiting for me on the other side.

  “We need to move,” I said. “Something’s not right about this.”

  “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.”

  Angela raised her Glock and twisted a silencer onto the front of the gun. I did the same. I looked around the neighborhood before I got out of the car. Everything was clear. The other houses in the neighborhood didn’t even notice that we were there , or at least gave that impression.

  “We go in through the back door,” I said. “How good are you at picking locks?”

  “Kiddin me? Picking locks is my specialty.”

  I knew how to pick locks as well, but something told me that Angela was probably better at it.

  “When we get inside, don’t shoot to kill,” I reminded Angela. “We need his confession first.”

  “He’s not going to confess, Jacob. That prick would want nothing more than to go to the grave knowing that he still has you by the balls.”

  “Well, at least give him the chance to confess. If he’s dead, he’s no good to us.”

  Angela rolled her eyes, but agreed. She wouldn’t kill the judge. Not now, at least.

  We got out of the car and quickly walked across the street, managing to stay in the shadows of the darker night. We reached the back of the judge’s house within seconds. Angela pulled out a pocket knife and picked the back lock quicker than I could have imagined. There was a slight click and the knob turned.

  We entered the house like thieves, walking on eggshells. Neither made a sound. The main floor was dark and quiet. The whole house was quiet. This wasn’t good.

  My hands were tightly wrapped around the Glock and I had it firmly aimed in front of me. My index finger rested on the side of the gun, but I could have it on the trigger faster than a blink.

  Angela and I cleared the main level and carefully walked up the stairs to the second floor. In the dark hallway, the bright light from the lit room glowed under the closed door. There were two other rooms and a small bathroom that were clear. If they were in the lighted room, they sure were quiet, I thought. Could they have heard us enter the house? Maybe there’s a posse of men waiting on the other side of the door with guns aimed, ready to shoot at the slightest turn of the knob. It was a possibility, but highly unlikely.

  Angela and I each stood on either side of the door. I placed my ear against the door and didn’t hear anything. I reached for the knob and gave Angela the signal. I turned the knob and both of us burst into the room with our guns blazing , ready to take on the world. But taking on the world would have to wait because, just like the rest of the house, the room was empty. The bed was neatly made and the closets were bare. The judge and his goons had managed to pack up and scatter from the house before Angela and I had a chance to catch them.

  I turned to Angela, who looked like she’d just gotten punched in the gut. Her voice was steady and calm when she spoke. “That bitch told him we were coming. She betrayed me.”

  I looked around the room in disbelief. I sat on the edge of the bed and allowed my head to fall into my hands. What now?

  The room felt like it was starting to spin. My world was quickly coming to an end and I didn’t know what else to do. The judge had beaten me and now I felt like I was alone, without anyone to help me. Angela had done her best, but now, even she had run out of luck. Her lifeline to the judge was just cut off. How could things have gone so wrong?

  I thought that just a few months ago, my life was nearly perfect. I had a great job, a beautiful wife and a loving home. Everything had changed when Turtle met me that afternoon in Dupont Circle with a scoop on a corrupt judge. I wished that I had followed my gut feeling and left when Turtle was late that afternoon. I wouldn’t have been there when Faraji Owusu was killed and therefore wouldn’t have been put on the case. Charlie would still be alive. Theresa would still be alive. Everything would have been as it was before Turtle brought this horror into my life.

  Then, as if a time bomb went off, it clicked in my head. Something that the most entry-level o
f detectives would have followed up on. Turtle knew a guy on the inside, and I’m willing to bet that whoever Turtle knew probably knows how to reach the judge.

  Goddammit, I thought. All this time, Turtle had a guy on the inside but I was too wrapped up in my own mess to follow up on it.

  “We need to go,” I said. “Luck may still be on our side.”

  “Where to?”

  “To find a turtle. Hopefully he won’t be hiding in his shell.”

  One hundred

  U STREET WAS JUST as crowded as ever. The trendy neighborhood was filled with popular restaurants and nightclubs that often caused a bit of a traffic jam. I knew that U Street was Turtle’s hangout and hoped that I’d get lucky and spot him amongst the crowd of people along the sidewalks.

  Angela’s car crept slowly behind a line of other cars, which would normally frustrate me, but tonight I was glad it was crowded because it gave me a chance to look at each face we passed. Lines of people waited in front of various nightclubs, waiting to get in. The bass of hip-hop music filled the street, and because there were so many nightclubs lined along U Street, it almost sounded like an outdoor concert.

  We slowly passed the historic restaurant, Ben’s Chili Bowl, which President Obama had famously visited early in his presidency. I’d eaten there countless times and had never seen it not crowded. On our right, we passed the even more historic Lincoln Theatre, in which great names like Duke Ellington, Billie Holliday and Nat King Cole had performed regularly. Red and blue police lights suddenly flared in front of Angela’s car, which caused both of us to become tense for a second, but then we realized that the cop was only trying to get a double-parked car up ahead to move.

  The busy part of U Street was starting to fan out, and I told Angela to turn around so that we could make another pass through. We slowly crept in the other direction and luckily, a parking spot opened up where all of the action was happening. We quickly nabbed it and we were able to see everyone that passed us. Ten minutes quickly turned into forty-five minutes, and then an hour turned into two. By now, it was past one in the morning. U Street was just as crowded as it had been over two hours earlier, without any sign of letting up. I thought that maybe we would give it another half hour and then we’d either have to call it a night or look for Turtle somewhere else. Luckily, we didn’t have to wait much longer.