Die Later

by Rahiem Brooks

  Kareem walked into the building and nodded at the security guard who collected his metal and allowed him through the metal detector. Kareem cleared security and made his way to suite 812. When he reached the lab, he was greeted by the receptionist who told him, “Walk-in hours are over for paternity testing, but I can make you an appointment.”

  “Thanks, but I’m here to see Professor Slomsky. He’s expecting me.”

  Without a word, the receptionist hopped on an office phone and spoke with her boss. Afterward, she stood and told Kareem, “He will see you now,” and then led him to a door behind her.

  The quiet reception area was not like the animated lab behind the door. Kareem expected to see a long hallway with multiple rooms with small labs, but he did not. The door opened to a very large lab with tables and sections everywhere. It was surrounded on the perimeter by smaller offices, which appeared to be for staff and some for specific testing. He surmised that what he wanted done would take place in an office.

  “Slmosky, my friend,” Kareem said when he noticed the professor. He shook his hand.

  “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Bezel. My brightest biology student, despite not being a science major.”

  Kareem smiled and admired the office some more.

  “Now you see where I make the magic. This is where all of my keen experiences take place so that I can effectively convey to students what they need to be prepared for in the real world.”

  “I see. This is a nice place, too.”

  “Been here three years, and after comparing labs over my career, I knew how I wanted this one. So, what brings you in? Are you in some sort of paternity battle?”

  “No sir. I have another problem.”

  “Okay. Talk to me.”

  Kareem pulled out his brown paper bag and opened it. He let the professor peak inside. “There’s blood on the squares of carpet that I cut out of my living room floor. I’d like you to test them for a blood type.”

  CHAPTER 25

  For Antoine there was no turning back. He had to do what he had to do. Or did he? He woke up at one in the afternoon and smiled at Roxanne. She lay with her head on his chest looking up at him seductively. He rubbed on the small of her back and became erect. He made an attempt to roll on top of her and she moved. He tried again and she pushed him off her.

  “So you’re going to come in here and use my chest for a pillow all night, but not give me any morning pussy?”

  She looked at him and simply rolled off the bed and walked into the bathroom.

  This bitch, he thought. Antoine had continued to genuinely fall in love with her, but what he couldn’t take was her constant attitude. He felt bad and had to continually remind her that just because she pursued a degree and had a job, car and apartment, she was not special. She had what most people her age should have. He hated to remind her of that, but it made it seem that he was putting her down, but he wasn’t. He was just turning her ego down a notch. Or two.

  Roxanne walked back into the room and looked in the mirror over the dresser. She pressed her palms on the dresser and forced her ass further into the air. She knew that he was looking. She knew that he wanted some pussy. She planned to tease him and maybe even give him some, ‘cause the dick was good. There were some things that she had to get straight first.

  She walked over to the bed and sat in it. She slithered next to him and tossed her head back on his chest and her hand on his dick.

  “Why you be on this up and down shit?” he asked her.

  “What do you mean?” she asked and kissed his chest. She kissed it again, and asked, “What’s the problem with me.”

  “What do you mean?” He ran his fingers through her hair.

  “Antoine, are you leaving me?”

  “Why? What are you talking about baby?” he asked and pulled her up to be face to face with him. “I love you, Mo. Why would I leave you?”

  She reached over to the night stand and opened the top drawer. She pulled out his airplane ticket and said, “Are you sure you’re not trying to leave me? This is a one way ticket to Tampa, Florida for one person. Care to explain?”

  “Where the hell? Why’re you going through my shit?” he asked and set up on the edge of the bed. “This is some bullshit.”

  “No, it’s not. I can look into anything in my villa. I am not good enough. You’re going on a trip without me and staying for an undetermined amount of time, so there was no need for a round trip ticket. This is fucked up. Where are you going?”

  “You know already. Tampa.”

  “Don’t be a smart ass. Why? A bitch there you met off Facebook or something?”

  “Now you’re being a smart-ass. I am going on business and you’re not allowed. I can’t take you to do what I am going to do there.”

  “Which is?”

  “Good question, because I don’t fucking know.”

  “What the fuck kind of dumb ass shit are you talking about?” Roxanne asked and hopped up. She was irritated. “You have a damn ticket, boy.”

  “I don’t give a fuck,” Antoine said and stood up. He got into her face and said, “Listen to me. I fucked up and the first thing I need is for you to listen to me, help me and be there for me.”

  “Antoine, I am not trying to hear this shit,” she said and attempted to leave the bedroom before he grabbed her.

  She pushed his hand off her arm and then slapped him hard. She then pushed him and he fell back on the bed, which gave her a spilt second to grab her service pistol from her dresser.

  She pointed her gun at him and said, “I should blow ya fucking brains all over this bedroom. Don’t ever put your fucking hands on me.”

  Antoine stood and walked up on her. He pressed the nose of the gun against his chest, and smiled wickedly. “Shoot, Roxanne. Shoot! I am already dead. I kidnapped a fucking monster and he brought me that plane ticket to go to Tampa to kill someone. I think. I much rather be dead, so go ahead, do it!”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Put the gun away and listen to me. I really need you right now.”

  Roxanne lowered the gun and put the safety on. “I am going to sit back and relax, but I am not impressed with this, and this story better be good.”

  “It’s not a fucking story.”

  “Okay, tell me something good then.”

  CHAPTER 26

  It was just mid-afternoon when Marquis approached a yellow taxi on 5th Avenue and 60th Street and got in. Toi was in the cab waiting for him. She had called him from a blocked number and expressed that she needed to talk to him in strict confidence and she ordered him not to tell Kareem. She wanted to confess to him what had happened and why she did a disappearing act.

  “Pull over at 59th and Lexington,” Toi told the driver as he sped down 59th Street.

  Toi and Marquis sat in silence; they knew the importance of keeping things private. One false move and their lives would spiral out of control. Well, not so much for Marquis, but Toi seemed to have problems.

  Over the two years Marquis just sat back and relaxed. He had stressed about as much as Kareem, but he was not arrested or under the microscope of the police. That was despite him being responsible for committing most of the crimes that were orchestrated by Kareem. Marquis graduated from the New York University Theater Program and he did not disappoint when it came to making use of his alma mater. He had been wearing a disguise since Kareem was pending trial and worked hard not to be visible. He remembered the big sting after they hit Chase Bank when Kareem worked there as a banker. He and Rhonda had dressed as the Flemings and even went as far a renting a Jaguar just like the Flemings’ car. That was important because Chase had financed the vehicle. They went into the bank looking 40 years their senior, and walked out of the bank $250,000 richer. Most of the money was used to build Kareem’s Bjorn Prodigy High Fashion Urban Line.

  When the cab reached Lexington Avenue, they hopped out and Toi tossed the driver $20.

  “This way,” she said to Marqui
s and smiled. She led him down the subway stairs. She paid the fare and they made it to the train platform heading to the World Trade Center.

  “Toi, what’s going on? This silence is killing me. There’s enough background noise here, so you can at least give me a hint about what is going on.”

  “Mar, I faked my kidnapping and I need your help to make Kareem think that I am missing.”

  Marquis smiled and stopped walking. He grabbed Toi by her shoulders and pressed her softly against the wall.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Mar, man. Them people expect me to testify against Kareem during this trial and you know that I can’t do that.”

  “What the fuck, Toi? What have you done? Come on,” he said and grabbed her hand.

  Toi skated down the platform where it was less people and stared hard at Marquis. She had desperation written all over her face.

  “This is going to be a long story. But I need to be made over and in a disguise that’ll last three months. I have to run far away from here, Mar. I love Kareem and I would never tell on him. Fuck that.”

  “Ok sis, but how did this happen? You didn’t tell Reem?”

  “No, that’s why I am leaving. I have been so stressed and I feared telling him because I didn’t know if he would trust that I was stringing them along just to keep them away from me. I had no idea if he would get Ravonne to go after them and make a big deal. I can’t go to jail because of Kareem’s ego, and they would have sent me there to make a statement to him.”

  “Awe Toi. You have been dealing with this all this time. He thinks that you hate him.”

  “Mar, I love him,” she said and hugged him. “I would do anything for him.”

  “So you think disappearing is the way to do this? I don’t know Toi. That could really be bad. They may have him arrested because of your disappearance. Certainly, they’d just claim that he hid you because he found out that you were going to take that stand on him. I don’t like this.”

  “Well, what am I to do?”

  “Toi, I don’t know,” he said as they got on the train. “Where were you taking me now?”

  “To NYU to get a costume.”

  “That won’t work. It’s Sunday and I have no access to the school. I have everything at my condo in New Rochelle. But I think that this is a bad idea.”

  “Come on, Mar. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

  “For starters talk to your man. That’s my very best friend, you know that. You know that I was at his first crime and did it with him. Hell, you were in the high school with us, so you know what we were into. He would not jeopardize you.”

  “Well there is one thing that I have researched myself, which could protect me against testifying against him,” she said and smiled. It was like there was some hope.

  “Okay, how about you tell me about that, because I am not hiding you without telling, Reem. You may harm him by running.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Shackled and handcuffed, Andre was led out of the observation cell with a guard on each of his arms and four guards behind them. There was also the SHU lieutenant and captain. One of the four guards had a camcorder rolling to capture any false moves of the prisoner. The officers were thirsty and prepared to take Andre down with force. They were buzzed through two security doors and walked into an open space with four elevators. One of them was open with two guards in front of it.

  Andre was loaded onto the elevator and made to face the back. Although no other inmates were out, Kareem was not allowed to face the outside of the elevator because the captain feared that he would send a signal to someone. The sad part was that the captain knew that a staff member could have been compromised as evidenced by all of the cell phones popping up in the prison. Therefore, he definitely needed Andre facing the back of the elevator.

  The elevator door closed and the elevator went down to the 7th floor. It opened and the high ranking officer stepped off first, followed by the back-up officers, and then the two that were directly attached to Andre. They were buzzed through one security door, and was in the 7th floor foyer, which separate units 7-North and 7-South. There were two psychiatrist offices and a nurse station in the foyer. They approached the outside of 7S and rang a loud bell. The unit officer opened the block’s door and found a crowd at the door.

  Officer Stanford, the unit CO said, “The unit is locking down to move him through to the back without incident. I was just told that he was coming down here.”

  The lieutenant asked, “Why aren’t they locked down along with the rest of the jail?”

  “From what I was told they did not participate in the riot, if that’s what it was, so they were exempt. This is the psych unit and many of them were too heavily sedated with psychotropic medications to participate in such an event,” the captain said to clear up any reasons why 7S was not on lock down. It was his jail and he could do what he wanted.

  “Yes give me one second to lock all of the cell doors, so that you can move him through the unit to the back secured psyche observation rooms,” Officer Stanford said and stepped back onto the unit. He locked the door behind him and began to secure the cells of the inmates.

  CHAPTER 28

  The strength of meritorious arguments was always dissipated by the weakness of groundless ones. Ravonne Lemmelle was fully aware of that as he prepared for the trial of United States of America vs. Andre Bezel and Kareem Bezel and Unknown Subjects. His biggest trial asset was knowing what to present and what not to present to the jury. He could not make every argument, he thought as he sat in his luxurious office just off 12th and Market Streets. He was in a corporate building that faced the fabulous Lowes Hotel where he often sought refuge to get away for a day-cation. He also had built a relationship with the hotel and he parked his car there daily for free. He asked for it from corporate as he was a shareholder.

  Lemmelle was the very sardonic son of the Pennsylvania Governor. He wore his homosexuality in a very masculine manner, and it irritated all of his opponents who were not the sort of flaming fag that was easily disrespected. He was unpredictable and was a man’s man who just happened to be gay. Some of his clients hated that, but he had a one-hundred-percent acquittal rating, and was highly sought and respected.

  He sat at his desk in a million dollar suit and looked at the witness list that Barnswell proffered in the discovery. He was the newest, yet most popular attorney and expected to have his cousins exonerated.

  That was the least that he could do. His father had all but abandoned his family, and as a result Ravonne did not grow up with his first cousins or his grandmother Jean-Mary. Whenever he asked his father why he was estranged from his family, the question was dismissed as a taboo topic. Not even his mother could answer the question. It seemed that she just went with the flow, and that was nothing more than assuring that Ravonne finished private school and Yale Law at the top of his classes. Ravonne did, and during that time his father made his way from Philadelphia Mayor to Governor of Pennsylvania.

  None of that had assisted with Ravonne’s career. He didn’t want to ride his father’s coat tail to garner success, and he was on the right track to making his own footing in the Keystone State. His was about to tackle his first federal case and was prepared to keep his perfect acquittal record. He had been employed by Martir, Savino and Associates, a center city Philadelphia billing nursery and on top of the world of litigation in the tri-state area.

  He had a mahogany bar in his office and he pulled away from the discovery and poured a jubilee. He stared at the mirror above the bar and thanked God that he looked twenty, but was 29. Chocolate Hershey coated skin covered a chiseled physique that never hurt the eyes. Ravonne, with his chestnut-brown eyes and gorgeous smile, defined eye-candy depending upon who looked. He had not drunk from the fountain of youth, but he was a stud and dated R & B singer Dajuan Jones. They shared a son, Brandon, who was a four-year-old genius, and lived in a fancy home near the trendy South Street. He read the dictionary every night
and had a wealthy selection of words to use against anyone. And prosecutors were the most abused by his subtle nasty words.

  He sat back at his desk and smiled at the discovery. I am going to win this puppy and thus my career as a federal criminal defense attorney will be born, he thought. That was his problem, he was cocky and confidence and that was a deadly combination.

  CHAPTER 29

  When the unit was completely locked down, the 7S CO opened the unit door and Andre was ushered inside. He had never been on a population unit. When he walked in there, was a kitchenette where inmates’ food was prepared. All meals were served in the unit. To the right was a recreation yard with a basketball court and handball lines on the ground. They passed a room that had about six computers inside for inmate E-mails, and then they entered an open dayroom area with four TV’s. Andre passed by several cells and a group of pay phones before he was at a gate that blocked off the back of the unit.

  There were four cells back there in the isolation unit and Andre was locked into the one furthest to the back after his shackles were removed. He put his hands through the slot and then his handcuffs were also removed. There was a plastic cushioned chair that an officer copped a squat in right outside the cell door. The tray slot was open and Andre could not make a move without the CO noticing. All of the other officers stood outside the cell and guessed how it would be best to keep control of that present situation.

  The captain approached the cell door and said, “Now listen here, Bezel. We know that you’re experiencing a lot. We are also fully aware, thanks to the media, that you’re capable of doing some very ruthless things, some you exhibited up stairs in the SHU. I have brought you down here where it will be more comfortable. Now officers will be watching you until the doctor clears you and then we will deal with the next step. Can you be quiet down here?”