Flippin' the Hustle Page 17

  * * * * *

  Ishmah jumped behind the wheel of the car and turned to Tareek. “The young cats out here are saying that some drug crew called ‘The Black Tar Boyz’ are responsible.”

  Rubbing his beard in deep contemplation, Tareek looked to Ishmah and said, “Well okki, it looks like we got to find . . .” Tareek paused, twirling his hand urging Ishmah to repeat the crew’s moniker.

  “The Black Tar Boyz,” Ishmah chimed in. He turned the ignition and pulled away from the curb.

  * * * * *

  Wrapped in a deep kiss, both Naria and Derrick kept a watchful eye on Carl. Although it had been months since they’d had sex, the act of watching their son while enjoying the pleasures of the other’s body became too much to bear.

  “Honey!” Naria gasped, “Let me put him to sleep, then meet me upstairs.”

  Bothered in more ways than one, Derrick reluctantly nodded and watched in frustration as Naria picked their son up and exited the room, swaying her hips sensuously.

  Derrick allowed a sigh to escape his lips. He readjusted his manhood in his pants and stood to go upstairs. As he treaded lightly on the carpeted floor, he could hear Naria cooing to their son as he passed the nursery. Instead of holding her to their earlier plan, he quickly decided to take a shower and relax.

  Quickly disrobing, he entered their immaculate decorated suite, and then went into the black marble bathroom and began to prepare to shower. Once the water settings were adjusted to his liking, he stepped into the walk-in shower and took a seat.

  As the water rained down on his body, Derrick could feel the tension being lifted from him. While in the shower, his mind touched base on every issue of importance in his life. Thinking about the money he’d accumulated over such a short period, Derrick knew it was time to exit the game. His dealership was doing well as a legitimate business, and fate would not continue to shine in his favor. He had to get out soon.

  Derrick turned the water off and stepped out of the shower totally rejuvenated. He knew what had to be done. As he exited the bathroom, the sweet smell of scented candles entered his nose. He adjusted his eyes to the flickering light, noticing Naria lying on their large bed dressed as if she were being sacrificed before a God.

  Eyeing her hungrily, he couldn’t believe that this was the normally sexually conservative woman who’d bore his child, lying before him in nothing more than a few strips of lace.

  Dropping the towel that covered his nakedness to the floor, Derrick dove onto the bed and took what was rightfully his.

  * * * * *

  Derrick roamed his office whistling old love tunes as the night of passionate lovemaking replayed in his mind.

  “Why, aren’t we in good spirits,” a sultry voice remarked, instantly snapping Derrick from his thoughts.

  Turning toward his office door, Derrick spotted Dominique’s bright smile. Derrick returned the smile and said, “Oh, hi Tonya. How was your weekend?”

  Throwing her hands up, she replied, “Probably not as good as yours, but I guess you could say I made the most of it.”

  “Oh, well that’s good, but I need you to go by the bank before noon and make a deposit,” he explained, reaching for a large moneybag.

  Unable to hide her shock, Dominique nearly dropped the bag as he handed it to her.

  “My fault,” Derrick said, kneeling to retrieve the bag.

  “Oh, no, I . . . I’m sorry, it was my fault,” she stammered.

  Derrick had never delegated any hands-on financial duties to her, and for him to abruptly toss a bag of money at her both scared and elated her. Nonetheless, Dominique knew it was a test. She just hoped it was a test that she could pass.

  However, in Derrick’s mind he was simply moving toward his goal of exiting the game. The act of depositing large sums of money wasn’t such a bad idea. Derrick’s second mistake was letting the undercover agent deposit the money.

  * * * * *

  RJ pulled off the lot with his brand new ESV Escalade, equipped with every gadget imaginable. Switching the in dash monitor onto rear camera view, RJ smiled. He was prepared for any unforeseen danger this go around as he cruised the streets of New York.

  RJ pulled up onto his old block and exited his sparkling blue SUV dressed like a star. Young kids rushed RJ with chants of, “RJ! RJ! RJ!”

  Basking in the attention briefly, he passed out bills from his overflowing pockets. It didn’t take long for adults to shoo the kids away from the ghetto superstar in order for them to put their own bids in.

  “RJ, what up, yo?” a man RJ had grown up with asked.

  “Hey, RJ. How you doing, boo?” a woman who’d sexed nearly the entire neighborhood asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

  RJ briefly acknowledged each person as he made his way to his childhood friend’s mother’s house. While he walked up the rickety stoop, Mrs. Jean appeared at the door.

  “Robert, is that you, boy?” Damien’s mother asked.

  “Yeah, this me, Mrs. Jean.”

  Pushing the door open, she said, “Boy, come on in here. I haven’t seen you in ages, Robert. Seem like the last time I saw you was at Brenda’s funeral.” Before she could stop herself, Damien’s mother regretted mentioning Robert’s deceased mother. “I’m sorry, baby,” she said.

  Looking into the older woman’s eyes, RJ wondered what his own mother would have looked like at Mrs. Jean’s age. When he was just thirteen, his mother was brutally murdered in an abandoned apartment by her drug-crazed boyfriend. RJ never let the loss of his mother hinder him. Instead, he instantly became a man, raising himself and Naria.

  “It’s okay. I’m cool, Mrs. Jean,” he stated in a nonchalant manner. “I just dropped by to see if you’d heard from D?”

  “Baby, Damien never was as smart as you. That boy went off and got himself busted, messing around in them streets.”

  “I heard that he’d gotten locked up, but that’s the last I heard.”

  “He got himself locked up a’ight!” she retorted. “By them federal people.”

  Trying to feign shock, RJ said, “I ain’t know that.”

  “Umm hmm. They got him in jail all the way out in Maryland.”

  “So he ain’t got no time or nothing yet?”

  “Not that I know of, baby.”

  “Oh, well that’s good.” He knew good and well why Damien had not been sentenced yet. “Mrs. Jean, I’m a leave a message with you to pass on to D. The next time he calls please give him the message.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Every piece of information that Ishmah and his comrades had gathered pointed to the Black Tar Boyz and RJ. Standing in front of the group of men, Ishmah said, “Brothers! As you know, there was a grave sin committed against Islam and the people of this Masjid!” He looked into the men’s faces, allowing his words to embed themselves. “According to the Prophet Muhammad Alayhis Raheem, any transgressors against Islam or its rightful followers must be dealt with diligently and expeditiously!” His voice boomed.

  “Insha Allah!” some of the men chanted.

  Bowing his head gracefully, Ishmah concluded with, “Insha Allah.”

  * * * * *

  Damien sat in the dayroom eyeing the television blindly. Although he was physically focusing on the curvaceous women dancing seductively to Lil’ John’s latest video, his mind was a million miles away.

  It had been nearly two months since he’d heard anything from Gold or any other DEA affiliate. The long lapse of time had begun to worry him. His street instincts had begun to play into his situation. To put it bluntly, he felt that he’d gotten fucked.

  Sauntering over to the line of wall phones, Damien picked up the receiver and began tapping numbers.

  “Hello?” the familiar voice answered.

  “You have a collect ca
ll from, D! To accept . . .” the automated service directed before being abruptly stopped by Damien’s mother, who pressed the correct button to accept the call.

  “Damien! Boy, how you doing?”

  “I’m a’ight, mom. Just waiting on my court date,” he answered in a defeated tone.

  “Boy, when are you going to court? ‘Cause Robert came by here the other—”

  “Robert!” Damien yelled, sounding surprised.

  “Yeah, Robert. Brenda’s boy!” she shot back.

  “What did he say, Ma?” Damien asked.

  “If yo’ smart tail ain’t interrupt me, I would’ve been told you. But anyway, he left a message for you. Hold on.” Damien’s mother went off to retrieve the message.

  He sat impatiently with the phone glued to his ear.

  As his mother fumbled with the phone, Damien inquisitively blurted, “What it say, Ma? What it say?”

  “Boy, hold ya damn horses. Let me read the damn thing.” Unfolding the short note, she said, “It says, I know you trying to come home as soon as you can to see Melissa and Tierra, but don’t worry I’ll take them to see the gators.”

  Damien’s stomach dropped to his knees. He felt extremely tired and weak. RJ had so much as promised him that he’d kill his daughter and his daughter’s mom.

  “Damien, you all talk so crazy nowadays, I don’t know what the hell you all be saying. But it’s good you got friends like Robert to look out for yo’ responsibilities.”

  Without correcting his mother, Damien simply said, “Bye Mom.”

  * * * * *

  After Derrick had entrusted agent Dominique to make the first cash deposit, she’d been summoned on numerous instances to do the same task.

  Unbeknownst to Derrick, she was photocopying records of every receipt. This may have been a good foundation for an Internal Revenue Service indictment. However, an indictment for drugs required drugs. Nevertheless, Dominique kept her eyes open during her work hours for anything out of the ordinary.

  * * * * *

  RJ knew he had to send some type of threatening message to Damien in order to thwart any acts of treason. He also knew that if Damien loved anything it was Melissa and their daughter. Had RJ left the sly message about his mother, Damien wouldn’t have cared. Just the thought of this enraged RJ more. Whereas he didn’t even have a mother, Damien couldn’t care less for his own.

  Averting the direction of his gigantic SUV, RJ headed in the direction of Damien and Melissa’s house. He turned the volume up on the thunderous system. RJ smirked and bobbed his head as G-Unit’s Tony Ya-Yo rapped, “So ya mans got fed time/if he is snitchin’ it’s bed time/drop ya dome, cut off the phone/cause it’s definitely head time.”

  * * * * *

  Lying on the humongous bed with Naria and their son, Derrick’s mind began to stray. Over the last few weeks he’d been taking close notice of Tonya.

  The pretty young woman intrigued him. There was something about her that he just couldn’t put his finger on. He’d even go as far as to vividly replay every conversation that they’d held.

  “What’s wrong, daddy?” Naria cooed, snapping Derrick out of his thoughts.

  “Huh? Oh nothing . . . I was just, um thinking.”

  Moving closer to him, she asked, “What is it, baby?”

  “It’s nothing, really. Just some things at work.”

  Naria smiled and rubbed her hand over his head, teasing Derrick’s sensitive spots. “I love you, Derrick,” she declared.

  Returning her penetrating stare, Derrick replied, “I love you too.”

  Carl began to chuckle.

  In awe, both Naria and Derrick looked at their son and in unison said, “We love you too.”

  * * * * *

  RJ cruised down the tree-lined residential street until he noticed the familiar house that he once frequented. He pulled behind the Audi in the driveway. RJ turned his truck off and hopped out. As he made his way to the door, it abruptly swung open.

  “Robert!” Melissa bellowed, standing in the doorway.

  “What up, girl?” RJ replied smoothly, holding his arms wide.

  “Oh, nothing,” she stated, stepping into his embrace. “I’m surprised I haven’t heard from you until now.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. But um, I had to make sure the coast was clear, you feel me?”

  Melissa nodded. “Yeah, I feel you.”

  “What’s up? You not gonna invite me in?” he asked.

  Motioning him with her hand, she said, “Come on in, boy.”

  * * * * *

  Derrick pulled into the First National Bank parking lot and hopped out of his Porsche. Something about Tonya and her demeanor nagged at him. The way she observed people was extremely reminiscent of his own law enforcement training. Although he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, Derrick vowed to himself to find out.

  “Yes, may I help you sir?” the teller asked.

  Derrick said, “Yeah, I’d like to make a withdrawal and close an account.”

  “A’ight, I’ll need your account number and identification.”

  Derrick retrieved his ID and his bankcard, and then slid them toward the teller.

  The woman began to tap furiously on the keyboard. She abruptly stopped and looked at Derrick. “Mr. Richards, I’m going to have to get my supervisor. Would you please wait one minute?”

  “Fine.” Derrick smiled.

  * * * * *

  “Ak, according to our comrades in the streets, the true leader of the Black Tar Boyz is some guy from Virginia by the name of Tree,” one of the men gathered amongst the security team said.

  Nodding his head, Ishmah said, “Ak, your findings have some validity, because the name Tree has come to my attention also.”

  There was a light chatter amongst the men, until Ishmah said, “Brothers, as we all know, a grave irreverence was committed against Islam when these kefirs brought their corruptness from the bunya unto a house of worship on the day of holiness.”

  This brought a round of Alhamdo Lil’lah’s and Insha Allah’s from the men gathered.

  “Now, our plans must be sleek, exact, and punishing,” Ishmah stated with a coldness in his voice that would have caused an onlooker’s skin to crawl.

  * * * * *

  RJ sat across from Melissa chuckling. They were reliving some of their happier memories.

  “Do you remember when Keisha and I were gonna fight Trina and that high yellow girl Sherm use to mess with?” Melissa asked through chuckles. “For real, Robert, that’s why Trina don’t deal with me now. She always thought I wanted you,” she said.

  RJ knew that’s why his woman didn’t like Melissa. “Nah yo, Trina just be on some insecure shit when it’s another woman just as pretty as her around. That’s all,” RJ said smoothly and watched as Melissa’s cheeks reddened.

  Stunned by the magnitude of what RJ was actually saying, Melissa quickly changed subjects. “Well, Robert, I’ve got to go and pick Tierra up from school. But I will tell Damien that you dropped by.” She stood, signaling the end of their chat.

  Slowly standing, RJ reached into his pocket and retrieved a stack of bills. Counting off ten hundred dollar bills, he dropped them on the table. “Just a little something for you and Tierra.” He turned toward the door and smoothly made his way toward the exit. Before turning the doorknob, he turned back toward Melissa and handed her a business card. “Call me,” he said before making his exit.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Derrick had been slowly distancing himself from the day-to-day operations of his and RJ’s illicit business dealings and focusing more on his car dealership.

  His legal business had grossed nearly half a million dollars in sales within just six months.


  Derrick still hadn’t pinpointed exactly what Tonya’s motivation was, yet he was almost sure that she was what he once was, an undercover agent. Besides him slipping up and allowing her to make a few deposits into a now defunct account, he’d managed to keep his criminal behavior unseen. His true intentions were to use the agency’s overzealous investigative tactics to his advantage.

  At that very moment, Derrick was outside of Tonya’s condominium. After numerous hours of surveillance, he was still unable to come any closer to his assumptions. However, just as Derrick had made the choice to abort his mission, he noticed an undercover government issued Caprice round the corner. Derrick instantly identified the driver of the vehicle as one of his competitors in the drug game whom he knew to be an informant. A career criminal named Bop. Damn! They’re giving informants cars to drive? He was now sure that Tonya was working for DEA.

  * * * * *

  Naria strolled Carl through the market as Trina and her daughter Raven trailed closely behind.

  “Auntie Naria, why you walking so fast?” the cute little girl whined.

  “Raven, your auntie Naria got to go pee-pee,” Naria replied, high stepping toward the restroom. Steering her son’s elaborate stroller into the ladies room, Naria maneuvered the large carriage into the stall and squat. “Mommy gotta pee, Carl,” she said to her oblivious son. Then suddenly a sharp pain ripped through her abdomen, causing her to double over on the stool.

  Attempting to regain control of herself, Naria looked at Carl and said, Mommy gotta go to the doctor, baby.”

  * * * * *

  RJ had just dropped a package of his signature mixture of heroin and animal tranquilizer to one of his distributors when his phone vibrated in his pocket. “What up, yo?” he answered.