The System Has Failed

by Ms. Michel Moore

  “Here’s what we need that might give us some info on Justice’s whereabouts!” Jazmine pointed out, setting her coffee down. “They wrote the address from the boy Cree’s ID. If we swing by his house, maybe we can get some answers as to where his boy Justice lays his head.”

  “Yeah, maybe you right.” Keith stood up from the table, having seen enough of the heart-wrenching pictures.

  “The only thing is we need to jump on the bullshit right about now. Last night they ended up towing Moe’s Beemer, and you know ol’ boy left some pistols stashed under the driver’s seat. So you know nine outta ten, one of them bitches is gonna come back dirty.” Jazmine divulged more classified information that only the Detroit police were supposed to be privy to. “Not to mention there were drugs all up in the car, so the damn DEA is fighting with the ATF, and both of they asses bucking it out with the department.”

  “Shit, the streets gonna be hot!” Keith snatched his car keys off the table, heading toward the front door and out onto the porch. “Hotter than a motherfucker!”

  Jazmine, a sworn officer of the law, followed as she tucked her badge, dangling on a chain around her neck, underneath her shirt. “You know how we gotta do during an election year! Heads gotta roll!”

  * * *

  Trailing Jazmine’s truck, Keith drove in complete silence. He’d never thought that he and his homeboy would part like this so soon. They had plans of retiring from the game damn near millionaires in three to five years. They often kicked it about taking their girls to the Bahamas and living like true kingpins. But now that fantasy was over. The pipe dream was now no more than a nightmare. Justice had ended that with two bullets, just like that.

  As the sun shined brightly, Keith glanced at his diamond-encrusted watch then focused back on the road. It was exactly eight-twenty in the morning when he and Jazmine pulled up in front of the address that was documented as Christopher Weaver’s place of residence.

  “So this is it, huh?” Keith questioned Jazmine as they headed up the walkway. “Somebody in here better know something!”

  Jazmine tugged his arm, stopping him just before his foot hit the first stair. “Listen, I’m used to dealing with victims so chill. Let me handle this.”

  “Victim?” Keith quickly snarled. “That fool Cree was all up in that bullshit no matter what in the fuck jumped off when they got there! Them two was like Batman and Robin!”

  “Babe, just fall back. We don’t really know who actually lives here or what they know yet!” Her tone was serious, and since her badge could ultimately be on the line for what they were about to do, Jazmine convinced him that they’d do this wrong-as-hell bullshit as right as possible.

  Agreeing to keep his mouth shut, Keith knocked on the gate as Jazmine held on tightly to his arm just in case he couldn’t control himself. A few minutes later an elderly woman, more than likely Cree’s grandmother, came to the door.

  “Yes?” She nervously shook as she spoke. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, we’re friends of Christopher.” Jazmine gave her a faint yet convincing smile. “And we wanted to both offer our condolences for your loss.”

  Cree’s grandmother had never seen any of Cree’s friends except that no-good Justice, who the detectives who were there earlier claimed may have taken her grandson’s young life. “Well, baby, y’all come on in.” She naively welcomed the devil into her home. “His girlfriend is getting dressed, and I’m getting ready to leave for church as soon as the senior van gets here. See, I haven’t missed a service in close to nine years now, and this morning I need to call on Jesus and my church family for strength.” She held on to her cane for support as she unlocked the gate. “But any friends of Christopher are always welcome in my house. Y’all come on in and have a seat.”

  Staring at the assortment of family pictures on the mantle and coffee table, it occurred to Jazmine and Keith that even though Cree was more than likely in on the botched robbery turned murder, he was still someone’s relative. Just as the church van blew its horn, Cree’s very pregnant girlfriend emerged from the back bedroom to see Granny off.

  “So you knew Cree?” With swollen, red eyes she rubbed her stomach. “What’s y’all name? I ain’t seen y’all before.”

  “Listen, umm . . .” Jazmine opted not to divulge her name but wasted no time starting the mini interrogation as Keith looked on. “I know this is kinda bold and you’re grieving, but we’re trying to locate Cree’s sidekick, Justice. You know him, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, of course.” Lowering her head, crying, her voice cracked as she shielded her face from the strangers’ view. “The police said he was the one who killed Cree and all those other people on Fullerton. That motherfucker ain’t shit! Cree was supposed to be his boy! I told Cree that nigga wasn’t shit and now look! He gone! He gone!”

  By her reaction when Jazmine mentioned Justice’s name, it was easy to see there was definitely no love lost for him in that household. Hopefully, she’d be able to provide some information to bring them one step closer to ensuring Justice met his maker: Satan.

  “Look, yeah, you right. That dude Justice is the one who did it. Everybody knows!” Keith added fuel to her grief-stricken outburst, using it to his benefit. “Cree was a good guy. He used to kick it about you all the time around the way,” Keith coldly lied, not having had more than two, maybe three direct interactions with Cree. “That’s why we’re here!”

  “Yeah, girl, that’s why we’re here.” Jazmine consoled the young pregnant teen as she started to shiver. “We’re trying to find out where that idiot lay his head at. Cree was our boy too, and how Justice played him was straight-up foul! So do you know where he might be at?”

  “Not really.” She wiped her tears with an old piece of tissue. “Like I told the police who was here earlier asking questions, his ugly ass stay wherever one of them stupid females he hang with let him stay.”

  “Well, do you know any of them? Maybe? See, like I said, we was cool with Cree and the rest of them, and if that nigga did do that grimy mess, we wanna make sure he pay.” Keith pulled out a big knot, peeling off a couple of hundred-dollar bills like it wasn’t shit, putting it in the trembling hands of the mother-to-be. “We know you got that baby coming, and now thanks to that animal, you gonna straight be out here on your own, struggling! But the family, we got you!” He beat his fist on his heart.

  Cree’s baby mama was stunned. Her child’s father was dead, and NFL was all for anything that would bring the killer to justice. “Hey! He did used to fuck with this tack head on the east side named Greedy.” She proudly stood to her feet, wanting to help any way she could. “I hate that bitch!”

  “Greedy?” Jazmine confusedly frowned. “That’s the female’s damn name? Greedy?”

  “I guess so. I don’t know her like that, but Cree told me a few months ago she was supposed to be pregnant by that monster.” She rubbed her stomach while the tears ran down her face. “I was bugging ’cause the tramp already got four or five kids! Dumb bitch!”

  Jazmine knew it was only a matter of time before the girl remembered even more. “The east side, huh?”

  Keith was anxious, feeling like they might actually catch up with Justice sooner rather than later. “Oh, yeah, do you know where the girl Greedy live at?”

  Still holding her belly, the young female squinted her eyes, trying to remember. “Naw, not really. Me, Cree, Justice, and her went out to Red Lobster one night, and by the time we dropped her off at the crib, it was late as hell, and I was buzzing. I do know it’s off Mack Avenue, deep, deep east,” she announced, wiping all the tears from her face, having a major flashback about the good times. “I ain’t never really dealt with the girl again after that night because I found out one of her hoodrat friends was trying to get with Cree behind my back!”

  “Oh, yeah.” Jazmine reassured her she knew how grimy females could be. “That was fucked up! Well, do you know where that female lives at? The one who tried to get with Cree?”

&nbs
p; Keith was losing patience with all the back-and-forth “As the Hood Turns” saga, and he excused himself, leaving the girls to talk. He went out to the car so he could call Bama Bob and see if there were any updates.

  Walking over to the hall closet, Cree’s girlfriend busted back out in tears as she saw all her man’s winter jackets hanging up. “Hey, can you get that old duffle bag down for me?” she asked Jazmine, who quickly obliged. “I forgot about something.”

  Sitting back down on the plastic-covered couch, she dumped the contents of the bag on the floor. Sorting through the huge pile of old discarded cell phones and what seemed like fifty or sixty black tangled chargers, she summoned Jazmine to help her. “I don’t remember which one it was for sure, but it was a Metro PCS I know. That damn Greedy and her girl was playing on my phone so much I had to change my fucking number, and when I did, I upgraded.” She kept tossing all the T-Mobile, Sprint, and Verizon cells to the side, while Jazmine separated the Boosts and off brands. “But I know I locked Greedy’s number in for sure. I know I did!”

  Finding a possible three cellular phones, both females went through the task of matching the chargers since, of course, each battery was dead. Just as Keith walked back in, they were plugging in the last phone, checking through the long list of contacts.

  “Here it is, under ‘Stank Hoe!’” She forced a smile, waving the phone in the air. “This that bitch number!”

  Jazmine informed Keith they’d found Greedy’s number, and hopefully, it hadn’t been changed. Before attempting to call, the trio plotted what exactly they wanted the young girl to say in the way of finding out if Greedy had seen Justice lately or at least had any knowledge of where he might’ve been hiding at.

  Deciding to place the call from one of Keith’s throwaway minute phones, they put it on speaker. As luck would have it, the number worked and started to ring.

  “Now let’s hope it’s still Greedy’s number,” Jazmine whispered.

  As the voicemail kicked in, Cree’s girl laughed with disgust. “Yeah, that’s her dumb ass! Still with all the music and then saying, ‘You know what it is, boo boo, leave it! ’” she mocked, shutting Keith’s cell and ending the call before leaving a message.

  “Maybe the girl ain’t up yet!” Jazmine pondered. “It’s only just nine.”

  Keith snatched the cell from Cree’s girl once again, pushing talk. “Well, that slut need to wake the fuck up!” Listening to the annoying sound of the voicemail once more, he decided to take matters into his own hands. “Dig this.” He motioned to the very pregnant girl. “Grab your shoes and let’s head east. Maybe you can remember the street if you see the area.”

  Not really wanting to go anywhere with complete and total strangers, no matter how much they knew about Cree and wanted to smash Justice, Angie declined Keith’s offer. “I don’t think I can leave. I wanna help, but I just need to lie down for a while. My head is starting to pound like hell. I need to rest. I been up all night!”

  Jazmine knew Keith’s temper was about to explode, and she ordered him to go back out to his car and wait for her. Putting her career on the line, she then removed her badge from underneath her shirt, showing the apprehensive, scared teen she was an officer with the Detroit Police Department, but also a friend to Cree. She soon made her realize that without her assistance, Justice, the man who tragically ended her unborn child’s father’s life, might get out of dodge if she didn’t do all she could do to help.

  “Do it for Cree and your baby,” Jazmine bargained, playing mind games. “Here you is living with him and his granny and y’all wasn’t even married. He loved you, girl! Show him the same kinda love and at least try to help us find Justice!”

  Five minutes later, Cree’s baby mama was climbing up in the back of Jazmine’s truck. They followed Keith to drop off his car over at a friend’s house, then all three of them skirted off, heading east.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Waking up with a smile plastered on her face, Greedy looked over in the bed next to her. There she saw the fifth man she claimed was her baby daddy. Her other four children each were by different men who all walked out on her the moment they found out she was pregnant. Greedy was known around the Detroit club circuit as a party girl. So it was one thing for a guy to fuck the dog shit out of her in the back seat of their car or even in the men’s bathroom, but to spend time with her and actually consider making her wifey was out of the question. If she could get a man to spend the night, she would be in pure heaven. Even though Justice was far from being a prize and oftentimes, if not all, treated her like shit on a stick, she seemed drawn to him. He could do no wrong that Greedy couldn’t seem to forgive, even kicking her ass or whipping the skin damn near off her children.

  Growing up the black sheep of her family, also being twenty years younger than her three siblings, Greedy was wild from the time she hit kindergarten and would probably remain wild until the day she died. That’s why she and Cuzzo were so tight. He was also the black sheep from their fold, and since she was estranged from her mother, they were as thick as thieves. He was the only one, besides her kids, she’d kill over, unless of course Justice was involved.

  “Damn, I love your no-good ass! I don’t know why but I do.” Greedy leaned over, kissing a snoring Justice on his lips then trailing her wet tongue down to his disfigured chest then onto his morning, heavy dick resting on his thigh. Taking it in her mouth, Greedy woke her new baby daddy up with the greeting most men prayed for on a daily basis. “Yeah, baby, cum, cum, cum!” Greedy jerked at Justice’s stiffening manhood. “That’s it! Yeah! Hell yeah!”

  Now feeling the strong encouragement from his hands on each side of her head, Greedy had no idea whatsoever Justice’s mind was back in the old, abandoned weed spot with Cuzzo sucking him off. Just seconds before he was about to let loose a hot load in her mouth, Justice harshly flipped a horny Greedy over on her pregnant belly, punishing the pussy from the back like there was no tomorrow in sight. No sooner than he was sexual satisfied, still high as hell off the two ecstasy pills and all the liquor he’d consumed the previous night, he collapsed on the mattress, falling back into a deep, coma-like sleep.

  Tiptoeing out the bedroom, Greedy snatched her food stamp card out of her purse and grabbed her house keys. “Y’all be quiet out here. Justice is still asleep, and y’all know how he gets to acting when y’all make all that noise!” she informed her sometimes-boisterous kids who were sitting on the floor, glued to the cartoons on television. “I’m going to the store. I’ll be right back. And you,” Greedy said, pointing at her oldest daughter, barely eight but smart for her age, “you be especially quiet!”

  With the intention of making Justice a huge home-cooked breakfast, Greedy started her walk toward the market. Turning on her cell, she kept on her hip, surprisingly to the unwed mother, at nine-thirty on a Sunday morning it started to ring. Who in the fuck? Greedy stared at the strange number before answering. “Yeah, hello!”

  “Hey, Greedy.” Angie acted like they were homegirls as Jazmine and Keith listened in.

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s Angie, Cree’s woman.”

  “Unh unh, what is you calling my phone for?”

  “Well, I was trying to get in touch with Justice. Cree wants me to give him a message, and it’s kinda important. So is he with you? I need to talk to him.”

  “Bitch, please! My phone ain’t none of Justice’s and I definitely ain’t no messenger. So you can get the fuck on with all that bullshit!”

  At the urging of Jazmine, Angie continued trying to reason with her. “Listen, Greedy, can you just tell me if you know where he’s at?”

  “Say what?” Greedy stopped dead in her tracks so she could truly give Cree’s once-smack-talking girl the business. “Girl, you can stop this shit right now! The last time I talked to your fake butt you was promising me an ass kicking. So unless you ready to make good on ya promise, don’t be calling my phone with no mess low-key trying to find your man. ’Cause, see
, a ho like me know where mines is and that’s asleep in my bed! Now fuck you!” Wait ’til I tell Cuzzo about that silly skank calling me! She lucky I don’t sic my girl back on Cree again! Greedy powered off her phone, not in the mood for any more “a bitch who can’t find her man” calls, and she went on her merry way to the Arab-owned market on the corner. The fact that there was an abnormal number of police cars patrolling out and about in the streets didn’t seem strange to Greedy, as she was on top of the world with Justice back at her house, in her bed.

  Hearing Greedy being so coldblooded and callous made not only Jazmine and Keith pissed, wanting to sock her dead in the mouth, but Angie also. Here she was acting as if she was proud to have a piece of trash like Justice as her man, even after all the crimes she had to have known he committed the day before.

  “Maybe you can put one of them GPS tracking things on her phone and find out where she at.” Angie felt her baby kicking as she started grasping at straws. “Or a satellite thing.”

  “Sorry, sweetie.” Jazmine sympathized, knowing ol’ girl was mourning the loss of her baby daddy but still trying to stand tall with them. “For right now, we just gotta see if you recognize any landmarks that seem familiar.”

  Barreling down Mack Avenue, doing sixty in a thirty-five mile-per-hour zone was of no concern to Jazmine, who had her police radio on listening to updates of various crimes being reported throughout the city. With Keith laid back on his cell phone, finding out Bama Bob’s exact whereabouts, Angie suddenly yelled out, having Jazmine turn right.

  “I kinda remember that schoolyard facing that row of old houses. Plus, it just dawned on me, Greedy’s house had a lot of poles in the front yard.”

  “Poles?” Keith quizzed, fed up with her immaturity and ignorance. “What kinda poles?”

  Angie stared at every house, on each passing block, explaining what she meant. “They were poles sticking up where a fence is supposed to be, but it looks like somebody stole the fence part.”