“Shit, you done got paid now, nigga. Look at all this muthafucking blood on the porch,” Bones said as Skip finally walked over and embraced him like a brother.
“Will, go get a mop or something and get that blood up for me. And get that nigga off my porch.” Skip ordered one of his young goons as he and Bones began to walk near the sidewalk to have a private conversation.
Neighbors tried their best not to stare, not wanting to cause any confusion with Skip. He wasn’t always this messy, so the neighbors tried to mind their business while he went about his.
“Come on, let’s hop in the whip for a minute,” Skip said as they walked to the Cadillac.
Inside, Skip removed a chrome plated ten-millimeter pistol and handed it to Bones.
“Oooh baby, where you been all my life?” Bones said as he kissed the gun.
“That’s yours, nigga, this too,” Skip said, handing him a few stacks.
“Good looking out, my nigga. Now, I’ll be aiight when I can get up out this old ass Caddy,” Bones said.
“Damn nigga, you just got out, slow your ass down.”
“Man, you know me. Ain’t shit slow about my life.”
“True dat,” Skip agreed.
“That’s your Marauder in the driveway?”
“Yeah, I got that bitch when it first came out. It’s time for something else now.”
“Don’t even worry about it, nigga, we’ll be good in minute. I told you I been keeping in touch with Oshiwa right?
“Dontae bitch, yeah,” Skip said shaking his head, remembering the conversation.
“Yeah, bitch got five bricks in the basement that my brother left when he died.”
“Yeah?”
“Hell yeah, she waiting on me to come get that shit right now.”
“That’s a down ass bitch right there. You gonna have to show her some love for that.”
“No doubt about it,” Bones said, slapping fives with Skip.”
Skip had been twisting up a blunt from the moment they started the conversation about his car. He finished rolling the weed and passed it to Bones, knowing he was ready to get some smoke in his lungs.
“So, what’s the run down on those hoe ass Van Dyke Down niggas?”
“Well shit, you know Jay and Gunner beat the case already. All them niggas out here, but I really can’t say what they driving and all that, ’cause I been over here grinding, trying to get shit up and running right. Jay still got that navy blue Benz though.”
“Hoe ass nigga keep a Benz,” Bones said with hate in his voice.
“What’s the nigga name they say be sniffing the coke and shit?”
“Lines?”
“Yeah, that nigga still around. I heard he be wit a li’l young nigga name J-Rock. I don’t know what he look like. I never seen him. I had my man on the east side checking on all he could though, so he know it’s important. He gonna be getting back with me quick with some more info.”
“Don’t tell the nigga too much though, or we’ll have to clap his ass too when it’s all said and done.”
“Nah, this my man. He good people. Oh yeah, you remember Carlos? The light skin nigga with the good hair? I think he used to fuck with your sister back in the day.”
“Yeah, Los, I remember. What about him?”
“I think we might need him. Cash him out on a couple of them niggas ’cause dog gets busy, you hear me?”
“Los?” Bones said in shock.
“Hell yeah, Los. My nigga Los ain’t playing no games out here. For what we trying to do, he’s a nigga you want in your corner.”
Bones looked at Skip with skepticism in his eyes. Last thing he remembered about Los, he was a compulsive gambler who hustled to support his gambling habit. Now, Skip was telling him he was a well-qualified contract killer.
“Are you sure we talking about the same Los?”
“Yeah nigga, ask your sister. She keep her ear to the street, so I know she heard about him by now.”
Bones decided he would do some research on Carlos and see if it was real or not. He’d hate to have to go at Carlos for doing a half ass job or running off with his cash without producing some bodies. But Bones didn’t dare underestimate The Vandyke Down crew. He knew Jay had some killers on his squad, and he needed to spread some money around to make sure he had enough soldiers on his team before he went at them. Otherwise, he’d be fighting a losing battle.
__________
After linking up with his connect, Jay dropped all the work off at Neicey Girl’s house and left to get some more baking soda after realizing he was super low. When he got back to the house, he rang the doorbell and she came to the door quickly. Jay could smell the fried chicken she was cooking as soon as he came to through the door. Almost every time Jay came over, she would fry chicken, knowing how much he loved her chicken.
Neicey Girl was short and dark skinned with a beauty mole on her left cheek. Jay often teased her about being single, but the way Jay treated her, all she needed a man for was his dick. Although Jay paid all her bills, in her mind she went to work every day, so she was an independent woman.
The bell rang again as she was putting a scrunchie around her Tyzillions.
“Get the door, Jay,” she said.
Jay peeked out of the peep hole and opened the door for Gunner, who came straight in bitching about he’d just lost a few of thousand in a dice game. Neicey Girl had disappeared into the basement, but she reappeared struggling with two loaded duffle bags and threw them on the floor next to Jay’s feet.
“Thanks for the help, niggas,” she said, being sarcastic.
“Neicey, I’m going in here and get some of this chicken right quick,” Gunner said, already half way in the kitchen.
“Go ahead, what you telling me for?”
Jay watched Gunner’s every move, thinking he was moving too fast and looking too hungry to be left alone in the kitchen. He knew that Bake would be pulling up in a second and it would be all over. Gunner came out of the kitchen with a loaf of bread and a bottle of hot sauce and placed it on the tray in front of his seat. As he darted back to the kitchen, Jay was on his heels.
“Hold up, you ain’t bout to eat up all the chicken, muthafucka!”
__________
The Channel Six news van bent the corner fast and stopped on a dime as the sliding door flew open. Michelle popped out, headed for the First National Bank. They were first on the scene, but they didn’t know if the story had gone live on another channel already. Channel Six news prided themselves on being the first to break all the biggest stories. This was a big one. A bank robbery, hostages, police shootout, and a dead perpetrator killed at the scene.
Michelle felt that adrenaline rush she hadn’t had in a while as she scurried to find the lead detective on the scene. As she got closer to the crime scene, he found her first, not wanting her to interfere with the investigation.
“Excuse me officer, where can we set up?” she asked.
“You’re gonna have to take it over there, because all of this is still a crime scene.”
“Okay, no problem. Real quick, can you tell me any details about what happened here today?”
He was trying to get back to work before she could get it out, knowing what her next question was going to be. He pivoted on his foot and turned back around to give her as much information as he could in a timely manner.
After she was done with the detective, she rushed her cameraman to the set up spot, her Christian Dior heels clacking to a fast rhythm.
“Mike, are you there?” she spoke in her earpiece.
Mike, the technical engineer came in loud and clear. “Yeah, I hear you. Are you all set up?”
She stood holding her microphone and tugging on her suit jacket to make sure she wasn’t all wrinkled up on camera. Mike came in again. “You ready?”
A glance at the cameraman and his head nod confirmed that they were ready.
“Yes, we’re ready.”
“Okay, we’re on in five, four,
three, two…”
“This is Michelle Mitchell, reporting live from right outside the First National Bank in Taylor, just west of Canal Street, where from what I understand, a brazen armed robbery has taken place. It ended in the worst way for the suspect who was shot and killed by police. Police say the suspect entered the bank around ten pm and immediately produced a high powered assault rifle, taking hostages and demanding one hundred thousand dollars. Police arrived on the scene before he could make get away. Uh… apparently, after several attempts to negotiate with the suspect, he became irate and tried to escape with his gun aimed at one the hostage’s head for security. The brave hostage struggled to break free, and once she was out of the line of fire, police opened fire on the suspect. We have confirmed reports that the suspect died on the scene.”
The lead anchor for midday news came into Michelle’s earpiece.
“Okay, now we’re hearing the hostage was actually shot as well. Do you have any confirmation on that? And if so, is she okay?
“Um yes, the hostage was actually grazed in the thigh by the assailant as she struggled to get free. She was taken to the hospital, but I’m told her wounds were superficial and she’s will make a full recovery.”
“Okay, now have you had a chance to talk to any of the hostages?”
“No I haven’t, Jim, the police are still questioning the people who were inside at the time. I’m going to try and see if I can get a statement from some of them as they are permitted to leave.”
“Okay, Michelle, we have another breaking news story coming in right now, so we’ll check back with you a little later for an update.”
“Okay, thanks Jim.”
Michelle had some down time while police were interviewing the hostages, so she decided to return her best friend’s call who she just realized had called her two days in row. She would never ignore Leslie, she just hadn’t seen the missed call.
When Leslie answered the phone, her voice had too much joy in it for it to be bad news.
“Have you been so busy trying to fuck your way to the top that you couldn’t call me back?” Leslie teased.
Michelle snatched the phone away from her ear and stared at it before responding. “Bitch, did I dial the wrong number?”
“No you didn’t dial the wrong number, bitch, this is Leslie, your best friend who has great news she been trying to tell you for two days.”
“Let me guess, you were finally inducted into the hoe hall of fame?”
“Oooh, now I gotta cut cha. That’s the rule,” Leslie screamed. They both burst into laughter and Michelle just shook her head. Leslie had a way of bringing out a silly ghetto side of Michelle that nobody else could. She never used that kind of language except when she was talking to Leslie.
“So what’s the good news?” Michelle asked still giggling.
“I didn’t say good news, I said great news. And the great new is Kevin popped the question, and I’m officially engaged to be married.”
“OH MY GOD!” Michelle squealed into the receiver. “Congratulations, you finally found someone besides me that wants to keep you around.”
“You know what? You ain’t gonna ruin my moment. You gotta see this ring. You’re probably gonna try and slip it off my hand and sell it for drugs or something.”
“Now you see, bitch, I was gonna invite you to dinner to celebrate, but you just killed it with that.”
“Yes, we have to celebrate ASAP. When are you off?”
“You know I usually don’t come on until the end of the month,” she teased.
“Heffa!”
“Okay, okay. I’m off Saturday.”
“Good, me too.”
“Okay, I’ll see you Saturday, and congratulations again. I gotta get back to work.”
“Okay. Bye.”
Chapter 5
The crew was all there as Jay pulled his Benz up to the back entrance of his record store with Gunner following closely. Damn Good Music had three locations on the east and west side, with the third one just recently opening in Highland Park. The record stores earned good consistent money for Jay, and allowed him a clean paper trail through his bank accounts, but it was nothing like dope money.
He heard the passenger door fling open on Lines’ Suburban and it got his attention. A female with wild uncombed hair and old faded jeans exited the truck and took off down the alleyway. Jay shook his head. He didn’t see her face, but knew it had to be Deja.
Deja used to be one the coldest chicks the hood had to offer until Lines got a hold to her. He decided he was tired of her coming around smoking up his weed, and him never getting anything out of it but a hard time. One day, he rolled up a blunt and laced it with coke and fed it to her like it was a T-bone steak. In the days that followed, Deja would come back begging for more of the same weed until Lines finally broke the bad news to her. He knew she would be upset, but more than anything, he knew she had a habit.
Now days, Deja had graduated to the pipe, and Lines gets to have her whenever he wants to for a little or nothing. It didn’t bother him one bit that he had destroyed a beautiful young girl’s future.
Jay’s cell phone rang as he was about to get out the car. He saw it was Dawson’s number, so he answered.
“Hello?”
“Yo.”
“What’s up?”
“You like a stack short,” Dawson said, referring to the money Jay had just given him.
“A stack short?”
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. I ran it through twice. You know the machine ain’t gonna lie.”
Dawson was a spoiled brat that Jay felt was only selling drugs to fit in. Being from a family that was well to do and politically connected, Dawson could have done anything he wanted with his life. And what was he doing? Supplying the east side of Detroit with drugs.
“If you say so, man. I don’t know how that could’ve happened, but I’ll take care of you.”
“Okay. No rush, I just wanted you to know about it.”
“Aiight, bet.”
Jay hung up and went inside the store through the back entrance, where everyone was waiting for him. Lines had made it in just before he had, and was teasing E about having five kids by four baby mothers.
“Lines, you a dirty muthafucka, man. I seen Deja get out your truck,” Jay said.
“Man, I was bored. I been waiting around this muthafucka two hours for you to get here.”
“So, you figured, ‘I’ll just get my dick sucked right quick in the back of this nigga shop since he taking so long,’ huh?”
“Man, where the work at?” Lines said changing the subject.
“Wait, we still talking ’bout this nigga with four baby mamas,” Bake explained.
“You need three or four baby mamas though. Who else gonna hold all your work and put all yo shit in they name?” E justified. “And the best thing about it is I take care of my kids, so I don’t gotta give they ass a dime, you feel me?” he finished with a giggle.
“Now you just lying,” Gunner commented as he began to pull kilos out of the duffle bag he had brought in.
“Don’t front, you know you paying a couple mortgages around town, muthafucka,” Jay agreed.
“Maybe so, but I always got a place to lay my head, and I ain’t never chasing after no pussy.”
Nobody could deny the two facts E had just stated.
“Wait ’til you fuck up though,” Bake said. “I got two words for you. Child support, nigga. Laugh now cry later.”
The crew laughed as they started to attend to the business at hand.
****
Bones wasted no time in stalking Mercedes Jay and his crew. He had learned that they frequented the record store Jay owned in his old neighborhood, so he parked down the street from the store in front of a restaurant. From his position, he could only see the front of the store and the comings and goings through the front entrance. He sat patiently with malice in his eyes waiting for the a-ha moment that ne
ver came.
An hour and a half later, he grew tired of watching customers go in and come out with nothing but what appeared to be legit purchases. He realized that he should have had Skip or somebody else on this part of the job, because he had other shit to do. He decided to come back later after he’d taken care of his other business. He pulled away from the curb, slowly eyeballing the record store like the actual building had done something wrong, when all of a sudden, a procession of cars rolled from the back alley and took off in all different directions. He quickly spotted Jay’s Benz with Gunner following behind him in his Audi. Two Cadillacs took off in the same direction, and then a Jeep Cherokee pulled out last.
Bones fell back and lit a cigarette. He drove below the speed limit to ensure that he was not noticed. He decided to stay behind the jeep since he was the only one that didn’t have a car tailing him. As the jeep cruised up Van Dyke doing exactly the speed limit, Bones smirked, knowing that the man inside probably had drugs in the car. When the jeep made a left turn, so did Bones, following him another two miles until he pulled into a gas station.
Bones was trailing far enough behind to be able to ride by and get a good look at the man just as he was stepping out of his jeep. It was a young unfamiliar face that fit the description Skip had given him.
“J-Rock,” he mumbled. “Yeah, I’ma tear yo fucking head off too, nigga.”
He headed toward the freeway to hit Oshiwa’s house. His plan was to take Dontae’s old Lexus that was still in her name to the dealership before 5:00 to do a trade in. He had Skip rounding up his people who he felt he could trust to run the new spots they were about to open on the west side. Then, he was going to break bread with the dude that was doing all his research on Mercedes Jay and crew.
When Bones arrived at Oshiwa’s house, he had to ring the doorbell a few times before she actually came to the door. She was wearing beige shorts and halter-top that displayed the entire God given blessings of her curvaceous framework. Oshiwa was an average looking girl, with a knock out body. She wore her hair in curls on the top and a short taper. She had just stepped out the shower and gotten dressed when she let Bones in, and he could smell her Victoria Secret Strawberries & Champagne lotion that lingered in the air.
The War Report Page 3
