by Kiki Swinson
Hearing him tell me that he saw me on TV instantly caused me to have an anxiety attack. I placed my right hand over my heart while I leaned against the nearby wall.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he placed his hand across my right shoulder.
“I need to take a seat.”
“Let’s go into the living room,” he said, and then he led me toward the front area of his house.
I took a seat on the couch only a few feet away from the entrance of the kitchen and then I took Mrs. Mabel’s wig from my head. “Thank you for letting me in. ’Cause I really had nowhere else to go.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s cool,” he replied.
“I take it you and your mother were talking about me being on the news?” I questioned him, even though I already had the answer to my question. As he explained how he was shocked to see me lying on the ground and telling the news reporter what I said, I began to size him up. He wasn’t that tall. Maybe five-eight and 150 pounds. He had the body frame of Floyd Mayweather, but was average-looking in the face. So far, he seemed like a good guy, but time would tell.
“You know, the cops came by here two days ago. They were asking me when I last talked to my father. And I told them that he and I talked on the same day he was supposed to come by here and stay for a while. But he never showed up.”
“Did they tell you what happened to your dad and my mother?” I asked him.
“They didn’t tell me that they were kidnapped. I heard that come out of your mouth when you were on the news. But they told me that they were missing.”
“Who told you that? The cops or the federal agents?”
“Federal agents are on this?”
I let out a long sigh. “It’s complicated.”
“So, is it true? The mafia has them?”
“Yes,” I said regretfully.
“But why?”
“Is there someone else in here?” I asked him. I wanted to make sure that if someone is here, then I needed to choose my words carefully.
“No, my girlfriend is at work.”
“Do you guys have kids?” I pressed the issue.
“No. It’s just me and her.”
I hesitated for a moment and then I said, “The guy I was working for at a local pharmacy was dealing illegal prescription drugs right underneath my nose. According to the DEA, my boss had been dealing since before I got there. After two months of working there, I kind of figured that he was dealing. I needed a job, so I turned my head and continued to mind my own business. Unfortunately, someone robbed the pharmacy, so the cops had to get in on it. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, the DEA agents wanted me to wear a wire, but I declined. So, one day, my boss saw me talking to the cops outside the pharmacy and thought that I was snitching on him. And it didn’t help clear my name, because a few days later he got arrested.
“Word got back to his family and everything went downhill from there. I guess when it got hard for them to find me, they started looking for anyone close to my family. I’m sorry that they got my mother and your father. But, just so you know, we can get them back. But I’m gonna need your help to do it,” I explained to him.
“As much as I want to help you, I’m not into that life. I got locked up shooting a nigga that stole a grand from me when I was nineteen years old. Did ten years upstate. Had to fight niggas almost every day to prove my manhood. I’m thirty-two years old now, so I’m not interested in anything that would put me back in that situation. But I do have someone that would love to help you out,” Carl Jr. said.
“Who?”
“My baby brother, Rich. When I called him and told him what you said on TV, he became angry and started threatening to do something to the mafia guys that took our father.”
“Can you get him to come here so I can talk to him?”
“Yeah, I’ll get him on the phone now,” he told me, and then he started pressing buttons on his iPhone. A couple seconds later, I could hear the other line ringing from where I was sitting. That’s how loud his cell phone volume was. “Junior, what’s up?” I heard the other guy say.
“Yo, come to my crib now. Got something I want you to see.”
“A’ight, I’m on my way,” I heard the other guy say, and then Carl Jr. disconnected their call.
“He’s on his way.”
“Yeah, I heard him. How long do you think it’ll take him?”
“You in a rush?” Carl Jr. asked sarcastically.
“No. I was just asking.”
“He’s not too far from here. Give him about thirty minutes and he’ll be here,” Carl Jr. said, and then he started walking toward the kitchen. “Thirsty?”
“I’ll take a bottle of water, if you got it.”
“Bottle of water coming right up,” he said as he opened the refrigerator door. After he grabbed a bottle of water and a bottle of Heineken from the side door, he walked back into the living room. He handed the bottle of water to me, but kept the bottle of beer for himself.
“Thank you,” I said after I took the water from his hand.
“You’re welcome,” he said, and then he sat in the chair directly across from me. “Tell me why you were running from the news reporter?” he asked after taking a sip from his bottle.
“Because I didn’t want to be on TV.”
“How did you fall?”
“I tripped over a bottle.”
“Is it true that you killed your ex-boyfriend?”
“What made you ask me that?” That question came out of thin air. Was it a trick question?
“The guy’s family went on TV and said that you killed him.”
“That’s a lie. I didn’t do shit. They need to talk to all of his side bitches!” I spat. I was getting frustrated by his implication, even though I was lying. I’m the real victim here, not that piece of shit–ass nigga, Terrell. He fucked up my life. Not the other way around!
“I’m sorry if I offended you,” he apologized.
“It’s okay. It’s just I went through a lot of shit behind that guy. I regret the day I met his ass. He didn’t give a fuck about anyone but himself. And people like him don’t get far in life. To be honest with you, I’m glad somebody got rid of his ass!” I roared. Just the mere thought of that bastard got me in an uproar. Not only that, but the fact that April had ratted me out and would testify against me when the cops finally caught me had me on edge too.
“I’m sorry if I made you upset.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m good,” I tried to assure him, and then I took another sip of my bottled water. “Tell me about your brother,” I said, changing the subject.
“What do you wanna know about him?”
“How old is he? How close are you two? Is he a street cat? Or is he a hothead? You know general questions.”
“Well, he’s twenty-four years old. He did a three-year bid upstate for selling dope. Now he’s out and right back in the streets selling drugs. And as far as him being hotheaded, he would definitely snap out and put a bullet in somebody’s ass if he feels like someone’s disrespecting him.”
“Think he’ll help me get our parents back?”
“Oh, most definitely.”
“Does he drive?”
“He has his driver’s license, but he doesn’t have a car. He drives his girlfriend’s around, most of the time, especially when she’s at work.”
“Are you gonna talk to him first? I mean, I would rather for you to break the ice when he gets here.”
“Sure. I can do that,” he said. “But can I ask you something?”
I braced myself for this question; I swear, I didn’t know what he was going to ask me.
“How well did you know my dad?”
“Well, I didn’t see him much when I stopped by my mother’s place. He’d either be at work or in the bedroom, watching TV.”
“Did you like him?”
“Yes, I thought he was a cool guy. He didn’t talk much, but I knew he loved my mother.”
“
Good, I’m glad,” he replied, and then he said, “Did you know that your mother was turning into an alcoholic?”
“Where did you hear that from?” I asked sarcastically. I wasn’t liking where this conversation was going.
“My dad would stop by and tell me how much he loved your mother, but her drinking was kinda pushing him into leaving her.”
“Okay, and what does my mother’s drinking have to do with them both getting kidnapped?”
“It has nothing to do with it. I was just sharing a concern that my father had concerning your mother, being as though my father used to be an alcoholic. He’s concerned that he may relapse.”
I sat there and thought for a moment. I didn’t want to continue down this road that Carl Jr. and I were going. I mean, I understood his concern for his father, but him relapsing wouldn’t be a problem if he was dead. Too bad he didn’t know. “Look, I understand how you feel. And I’m sorry for snapping at you. It’s just that I wanna get my mama back safe and sound. She doesn’t need this shit in her life.”
“What about my father? He’s there with her and he had nothing to do with none of it,” Carl Jr. interjected.
“Well, that’s what I meant. Both of them need to come home,” I recanted, even though I didn’t mean a word of it.
“Do you think that they’re going to be all right? Are those guys really bad people?”
“I don’t know. It’s really hard to tell.” I lied once again, knowing full well that his father could be dead.
“What do you mean?”
“Those guys don’t want your dad and my mother. They want me. So I believe that they’re willing to exchange their lives for mine,” I said. I swear, those words literally tumbled from my mouth like a leaky faucet.
“And how do you know that?”
“Because I know. Remember I used to work for those guys.”
“Don’t you think that it would be better if you let the cops handle it? I mean, you talking about exchanging your life for their lives, like it’s that easy. Don’t you care about living too?”
“Of course, I do. But when I think about what my mother could be going through right now, it puts me in the mind frame to think more about her than myself.”
“You’re talking about my father too, right? I mean, because every time you bring your mother up, you never add my father to the equation. Do you know something that I don’t?”
“I’m sorry if I keep doing that. It’s just that I got a lot of stuff on my mind,” I told him after I took another sip from my bottle of water.
Carl Jr. kept our conversation going with one question after the next. At one point, it felt like I was going through an interrogation. But I knew he just needed the questions concerning his father answered. So I did my best to answer his questions as delicately as I could.
18
IN KILLING MODE
Carl Jr. was right. It took his baby brother, Rich, less than thirty minutes. I must admit that this guy was a character. He walked through the front door with another guy in tow. As soon as he saw me, he smiled. “So, is she that something you needed to show me?” he asked after looking at me from head to toe.
“Yes, this is Misty, and, Misty, this is my brother, Rich.”
Rich walked over to where I was sitting and extended his left hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said as we shook hands. The guy that was with him stood by the front door.
“Same here,” I told him when he let my hand loose.
I stared at Rich for a brief moment while he stood before me. I had to admit that this little fellow was kind of cute. He looked like the actor Larenz Tate. In fact, he had the look and the height. It was crazy weird. But I went with it.
“Are you the lady from the news?” he asked.
“I was about to ask her the same question,” the big guy by the front door said.
“Yeah, and that’s why I’m here,” I began to say.
“Yeah, she said she knows where her mom and our dad is,” Carl Jr. spoke up.
“Ain’t that what she said on the news?” Rich said as he looked at Carl Jr.
“Yes, I did, but it’s more complicated than that,” I began to explain.
“Hey, wait, what’s your name again?” Rich asked me.
“Misty.”
“Oh shit! You’re the girl that supposed to killed that nigga Terrell,” Rich added.
Instantly my insides were engulfed with a ball of nerves mixed with anxiety and fear. Hearing Rich say that I was the girl that killed Terrell paralyzed me. How am I supposed to act after hearing this? Stay here and defend myself? Or run out of here and never look back? I needed some help trying to figure this thing out. Finally, a thought popped in my head. “Look, I don’t know where you got that information from, but I didn’t have shit to do with that nigga getting killed.”
“That ain’t what April said.” Rich pressed this issue as he stood a few feet away from me. For a minute, he looked like he was about to interrogate me. My heart rate sped up at an increasing amount. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to react to his statement, so I just sat and looked at Carl Jr., hoping he’d step in and help me.
“You worked at the pharmacy down on Church Street, right?”
“I used to.”
“Yeah, your cousin Jillian got with my homeboy Tedo and tried to rob that spot, but got shot up and killed by the cops,” Rich added.
“That’s not how that happened.”
“Explain it to me,” he insisted.
“When my cousin and Tedo came down there to rob it, the owner of the store’s family had come there, and so they had a shoot-out with Tedo and the other guy that was with him.”
“You didn’t tell me that a robbery took place,” Carl Jr. interjected.
“That’s because you didn’t ask me.”
“That was because I didn’t know.”
“Look, we can sit here all day and go back and forth about who robbed who, and who got shot. I lost my cousin Jillian and my grandmother behind those guys. And now they got my mother and y’all father, so are you going to help me get them back, or what?” I replied sarcastically. I needed these fucking idiots to realize that it’s not about what happened; it was about where we were now and how did we start from there.
“Answer this one question,” Rich said.
“What is it?” I asked him, but at the same time, I dreaded what he was about to say. You never know where stuff is going to go with this fucking guy.
“Are you working with the cops or federal agents? Because that’s what’s going around on the streets.”
“No, I am not. I mean, if I were working with them, do you think I’d be running from the fucking cameraman and that dumb bitch of a news reporter? Do you think I’d be here asking for y’all help? If anyone is snitching, it’s that April chick. She’s the one telling the police that I murdered Terrell, and her and Tedo chopped his body up,” I said further.
Rich stood there and looked at me like he could see through me. He did this for the next sixty seconds, and then he finally said something. “If I find out that you’re lying to me, I’m gonna kill you dead. Now do we have an understanding? Because I don’t fuck with snitches. Snitches are rats. And I don’t like rats. They are nasty and filthy!”
“I get your point,” I told him, but deep inside of me, I became fearful and petrified of this guy. He might have been a small guy in stature, but his heart was cold and vicious. I wanted no part of it.
“I’m gonna only do this because my father got caught up in this shit. So tell me who we’re dealing with?”
“I really don’t know how many there are, because most of the family lives in DC, but I do know they have an Indian restaurant near the JANAF Shopping Yard. They open at eleven o’clock in the morning and close at ten o’clock at night. I figure if you follow one of them home, you’ll find out where our mom and dad are.”
“Think we could rob those motherfuckers?” Rich wanted to know.
“I don’t think that wo
uld be a good idea. The first time my cousin and Tedo tried to do it, the whole thing fell apart.”
“That’s because they didn’t know what the fuck they were doing. If me and my crew run up on them, we’re gonna come out on top.”
“I’m sure y’all are good at what you do, but all I’m interested in doing is getting my mother back,” I expressed.
“Well, I’m interested in getting compensated for my work. So, if you want to get your mama back, then you’re gonna have to do it my way,” he said. I watched his body language while he was looking at me, and from there, I knew that he meant what he just said.
I sat there for a moment and mulled over the pros and the cons of his proposition. On one hand, I wanted no part of his robbery scheme. Getting involved with another robbery would take me on a slippery slope. On the other hand, this was the only way I was going to get my mother back. And I couldn’t leave her like this. I got her into this mess, and now I had to figure out how I was going to get her out. “I’m willing to do it your way,” I finally told him.
“I knew you would see it my way,” he said confidently.
“So, when are you trying to make a move?” I asked him.
“It’s too late to do it tonight, so if everything goes right tomorrow, we can do it then.”
“So, what am I going to do until then?” I asked both him and Carl Jr.
“What do you mean?” Rich asked.
“I don’t have anywhere to stay. Remember, I was running from my apartment when the news reporter was following me.”
“If it was up to me, then I would let you stay. But my girlfriend isn’t gonna have it,” Carl Jr. spoke first. So I looked at Rich next.
“Look, I be at the trap all night long. So, if you don’t mind watching a nigga hustling, then you can come with me,” Rich offered.
Before I opened my mouth to give him an answer, everyone in the living room heard someone on the other side of the front door trying to come in. Rich and I both looked at Carl Jr. He stood up from the chair and told Rich’s homeboy to move to the side so his girlfriend could come walk into the house without the guy blocking her way.
