Filthy Rich-Part 2 (21 page)

"Murders. What about murders?" Freeman asked.

"What about them?" Luke twisted his face into a scowl. He seemed irritated.

"How many did the family commit?"

"Can't count on two hands. Too many."

"Give some names, muthafucka," Logan demanded. "Real situations. Real events."

Luke went into detail about several murders, but of course withholding certain information.

"And you?" Freeman asked.

"What about me?"

"How many times did you pull the trigger?"

"Not what I do. My hands stay clean. All I did was handle the legitimate stuff, the corporate side of things."

"You sure about that?" Logan asked.

"Of course."

Freeman leaned back into his chair, and looked over at the mirror. He then sighed and looked at Luke again. "Mr. Bishop, I've got reason to believe you're not being completely honest with us about your involvement in the family business."

"Look, I'm telling you what I know."

"Which is a bunch of bullshit," Logan barked.

"Luke, we're taking everyone down," Freeman told him. "That may even include you if you don't want to be honest with us. We don't deal in bullshit."

"I'm telling you exactly what I know," Luke said.

The agents said nothing. They just looked at Luke. He returned their looks. Then while still looking at Luke, Freeman raised a hand and signaled towards the mirror. Seconds later, the room's door opened. When it did, Luke paused.  He refused to turn around for fear of what his nose caught.

The smell.

That smell he knew so well.

When he turned to see who was entering. His mouth nearly dropped to the floor when he saw who it was.

Pamela.

Luke was bewildered for a moment. He looked from Pamela to the agents as she closed the door. He then watched as she tossed her FBI badge on the table in front of him and then leaned against a wall folding her arms across her chest. "Surprise, baby," she said. “Shit happens!”

Luke stood up and lunged for her, falling to the floor. "You bitch!" he shouted, wiggling, attempting to stand. His handcuffs prohibited him from moving without difficulty. Luke couldn’t believe he’d been played by Pamela; a chick.

This was the woman he cared for and trusted, although he knew better than to trust anyone. This was the woman he’d chosen over Nessa. This was the woman he’d given large sums of money to. 

“So, why you? This is how you pigs do things, huh?” He looked at them all as he spoke from his heart about Pamela.  “Auction off the pussy for an indictment?”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Pamela retorted.

“So, what the fuck does this mean from here?” Luke asked, as the two agents stood him up.

"Well, in the trailer you confessed to crimes that can get you a lot of time for, especially the murder of Gavin Bishop," she told him.

Logan smiled.

“And all those people you just named that were on the Bishop’s payroll…we have men headed to round them up now. They’ll be snitching on you before the sun goes down; especially after we play the recording of you ratting them out just now.”

Luke sighed in regret. He kicked at the two men beside him in anger. “You fuckin’ lied!!!!” Veins popped from his forehead. “You told me nothing I said would be used against me?”

“Do you have that in writing?” Logan asked with laughter.

“Jokes on you, Luke,” Pamela announced. “In other words, we've got everything and everyone we need. So with all that said, Luke, why exactly shouldn't we lock your ass up for the rest of your natural life?"

“Fuck you, whore!”

“Oh yeah, you’d like to do that one more time, wouldn’t you?” She laughed again, before continuing. “Oh, and the money from the 5 Points Deal that you invested is now in the hands of the Federal Government, baby,” she grinned wickedly. That was never a real deal. You were investing into a bogus drug company.” She laughed hysterically.

Luke just shook his head. If they gave him the opportunity at any point, he vowed to have Pamela killed. It didn’t matter that she was a Fed. Her betrayal was so hurtful he was willing to fry if necessary behind her murder. 

"Oh and your bitch, Nessa," Pamela continued, “We have strong reason to believe Nessa murdered Brandon. We also have Nessa on video connected to two murders, one of which is the murder of Charles Bishop, your father."

Pamela’s voice had someone become muffled. Luke didn’t know how to feel. With all of the unsuspecting news he’d become lightheaded. There was too much treachery. And all from women.

He’d allowed pussy to cloud his judgment.   

"My father? What the hell are you talking about, bitch?" he asked, both surprised and furious at the same time. He was surprised to hear Nessa's involvement in his father's murder because obviously he had no idea his father and Nessa even knew each other. And he was furious because Pamela had deceived him. He wanted to jump up and break her damn face.

Nodding and smiling, she said, "Yes, your father.

Luke listened, seething. He was seeing red as he stared evilly at Pamela.

Pamela took that as a cue and hurried out to console Cedrick, who was waiting patiently in the lounge area. After viewing his ruthless brother’s admission through the viewing window, he had seen and heard enough.

Pam knelt down before his solid, muscular frame, “Cedrick, I know this is a lot to take in but you being here helps us speed up the process and insures we put your brother away for a long time.” He held his face in his hands. Even sitting there with an unshaven face and unkempt clothing, he was still fine.

“I think I can help make this situation better,” Pam said as she caressed his warm, caramel colored hands. Cedrick could see through her advances but in some way wanted to see where it would take him if he took her up on her offer. Plus, he’d never been with a white woman before.

They locked eyes and Cedrick flirted back, “I will certainly be in touch Agent Pam.”

Meanwhile, in the interrogation room, Luke was speechless. He had nothing left to offer. He had no more cards left to play...

Or did he?

Chapter 18

The Escalade made its way throughout Washington's rough Belleview neighborhood. Snow fell from the sky and was being brushed away briskly from its windshield wipers. Outside its windows, the temperature was in the low teens.

Although the Thanksgiving holiday had just ended, colorful lights and decorations were sprawled about trees, bushes, lawns and porches. But despite what the cheer and happiness they were supposed to signify, the neighborhood was still what it was. Young drug dealers in bubble coats and Timberlands still stood outside liquor stores serving poison. Prostitutes still sold pussy and sucked dick in piss filled hallways. Every other house was still abandoned. And gunshots still rang out at all times of the day and night.

Sitting in the passenger seat of the Escalade, Nessa stared out at the eyesores with a smirk while NaNa whizzed up and down street after street. Although the people of the neighborhood were going through their struggles and would probably have a miserable Christmas, things were good for her. Business was doing beyond well. Now, on top of having interests in Washington, Baltimore and New York, she and Chavez had now expanded into Detroit and Cleveland. Business and money were growing.

All of a sudden, Sidra broke the monotony of silence that had filled the car for the last ten minutes. “You think Chavez will one day ask you to marry him?”

Nessa turned toward the back of the car to answer but was interrupted by Trinity, “Why would you ask something so stupid like that?”

The two enemies glared at each other for seconds while they both rode in the back seat of the Escalade as if they hated one another.

"I doubt it," Nessa blurted.

“Why’s that?” Sidra questioned.

"Because he has plenty of women," Nessa stated firmly. "I'm not stupid. With the type of money he has, I know he has plenty of pop offs all stashed all over the country."

"Maybe," NaNa finally decided to join in. "But evidently he sees something more in
you
than them. I mean, shit, he's putting you in charge of his expansion into new cities, and hired your ass a personal bodyguard. I mean a nigga don't give that type of power to just
any
bitch."

Trinity rolled her eyes and simply got real quiet.

"Right," Sidra co-signed. "And what about the trips and gifts?"

Chavez had taken Nessa to Paris and Jamaica over the last month. He'd bought her furs and jewelry, and had been showing her more attention than what most men show women they like or even love.

"A nigga don't do that type of shit unless there's serious feelings involved," Sidra said, leaning forward, to hit her girl on the shoulder.

Nessa had to smile. "Of course. I know that but...”

"But what?"NaNa asked.

"Shit, after being betrayed by Luke, I'm not sure about marriage. I'm good with the relationship thing but marriage…hell naw!"

"Girl, obviously, Chavez is on a higher level than Luke," Sidra said. "You can't tell me you don't want a piece of that. Marriage would make it official, and make you the richest bitch on the East Coast."

"Hell fuckin' yeah," NaNa agreed, “Filthy Rich.”

Trinity made an annoying sound while blowing her breath, just as the truck began slowing down.

"Look, we're jumping the gun," Nessa told them. "No one's mentioned anything about marriage. Right now, we're just fuckin’. There's a few feelings involved but nothing major. Feelings tend to get bitches nowhere."

Nessa liked her independence. She liked coming and going as she pleased. She liked how things were going right now. Deep down, though, she still didn’t trust Chavez. She truly believed he had something to do with Piper’s disappearance.

When the Escalade stopped outside a rundown brownstone Nessa perked up. After stopping at the curb, the four of them climbed out of the warmth of the truck and were immediately bombarded by bitter cold. Pulling their coats tighter to their bodies and pulling up their hoods, they headed up the brownstone's walkway. Before making it to the top landing, Nessa noticed what none else had.

A man had quickly crept behind them causing Nessa to react quicker than anyone else. She inhaled, never blinked, and sprang into action. Strapped, she reached for her Chanel which she held underneath her arm, ready to unleash the fire power inside. With her hand on the butt of the .45 she gripped forcefully then released her hold. Thankfully, it was only Joe, the six foot three, solidly built linebacker-looking dude that now protected Nessa daily.  With slanted eyes and his naturally long silky black hair pulled into a long ponytail that hung down his back, he was half black, half Asian, and mean as hell. One of Chavez’s most trusted goons, he was trained in Martial Arts, and would kill on sight.

“Damn, you gon’ get killed running up on me like that!” Nessa fired! “And why the fuck didn’t none of ya’ll peep him coming! He’s fuckin’ three hundred pounds! Damn!”

She shook her head pissed the fuck off. She got even angrier when neither Trinity, NaNa, or Sidra responded. 

“Wack-ass team,” she said conceitedly, before ordering Big Joe to stay out front, watching the spot while they went inside.

Reaching for the knob, NaNa knocked on the door of an apartment with a coded knock. Seconds later, the door opened. A goon with a Chopper in his hand appeared.

"Yo, what up, NaNa?" he asked. "Wasn't expecting you."

"I know," NaNa told him. "Surprise visits is how you keep a muthafucka on their toes."

Nessa, Trinity and Sidra followed NaNa inside, all remaining silent.

The apartment held no comfortable furniture. It only held a few foldable chairs and a television. In the living room, and dining room were numerous tables. Each were surrounded by women who were naked; they weren't even wearing socks. On each table were countless baggies, scales, capsules and piles of cocaine. The women were chopping and bagging everything up.

The walls of both the living and dining room separated the apartment from the one across the hall, and had been purposely knocked down. Because of that, the living rooms and dining rooms of both were now connected to create one huge room. Making their way through the huge room of workers, all of the ladies headed towards the kitchen, following NaNa. As they did, none of the workers looked at them. They stayed focused on bagging the work. Reaching the kitchen, they saw two women dressed in only bra and panties, and like the others standing at two stoves with masks over their mouths. On the eyes of each stove were tall pots of boiling water and cocaine. Behind them, standing at the apartment's back door was a gunman with a Chopper in his hand watching over every movement. On a table and the counters were bowls of baking soda and other ingredients to cook crack.

NaNa and the gunman nodded to each other.

"Everything good?" NaNa asked him.

"No problems," he answered from behind his mask.

"Cool."

“Cool?” Nessa barked. “Why the fuck is it all of a sudden cool for these bitches to defy the rules?” she asked, referring to the only two ladies wearing bras and panties. “When I say stay completely naked that’s what the fuck I mean!”

Within seconds, Nessa whipped out her gun and began pistol whipping the young, toothless chick who’d disobeyed the rules of the house. It was crazy for everyone to see how cocky and violent Nessa had become. As blood spilled from the woman’s face, Nessa seemed to have no remorse. “Don’t fuckin’ play with me or my money!” she spat loudly, kicking the woman in the ass with her boot. As the woman stumbled, and attempted to run, NaNa sealed the deal by hitting her with a serious upper-cut that landed the woman flat on her back.