Girls from da Hood 11 (12 page)

Right before Detective Wilson walked out of the room, he turned back around to face Mike B while standing in the doorway. “Just so you know, we're in the process of bringing your boy Jeff in for questioning as well. You might want to think about changing your statement,” he suggested, closing the door behind him.

Mike B was not fazed by Detective Wilson's ending remarks. He was 100 percent sure that like himself, Jeff would not cooperate with the authorities no matter what. The two of them had been crime partners for so long, that he could vouch for him. He was absolutely right, there was no way Jeff would cooperate with Detective Wilson or any other detective for that matter, but not for any reason Mike B could have imagined.

The opening of the interrogation room door broke his chain of thought and drew his attention to his left. A tall, thin, African American, well-dressed male in a navy blue two piece entered.

“Detective Wilson?”

He walked over and extended his hand to Detective Wilson. Detective Wilson kindly accepted. “I'm Federal Agent Lewis.”

The words, Federal Agent, caused Mike B's stomach to do somersaults.

The feds?
he questioned.

He was no genius, but he knew enough about his city to know that when the feds came to town, it was something serious.

“What can I do you for?” Detective Wilson asked.

“Wait here, I'll be right back,” advised Lenore, stepping out of the E350 Benz.

Before Denise could even utter a word, Lenore had already slammed the car door shut and headed toward their intended destination. Denise just watched as butterflies fluttered annoyingly inside of her stomach. She began to feel nauseated, wanting nothing more than for this whole ordeal to be over with, and knew that after this last stop they would be able to put all of this behind them. This was why she was so anxious for Lenore to take care of the affair and get back so they could be on their way. As uncomfortable as the matter was for her, Denise was put in a position and forced to make a decision. One that she'd hoped she would be able to live with for the rest of her life.

Lenore rang the doorbell again for the third time, wondering why no one had answered the door. Especially when she saw that white Denali sitting on the distinguishing twenty-three-inch chrome Giovannis parked outside in the parking lot. Just as she was about to ring the bell for a fourth time, becoming irate and impatient, she heard the locks on the door being released.

“Yo, what's up? What're you doin' here?” she was asked as the door opened.

“I came to see you.” Lenore walked up on him and planted a kiss on lips.

“Hmm!” was the sound he made as he embraced the kiss.

He slid his tongue into her slightly opened mouth, then spun her around into his condo and closed the door behind them. “Why you ain't call before you came?” he asked, breaking their lip lock.

“'Cause I wanted to surprise you,” she seductively answered, rubbing the bulge in his Sean John jeans, causing his semi-erect manhood to stiffen even more.

“Yo, you know you took a chance coming here unannounced right? What if dawg dabbled back or something, how the fuck we gonna explain this shit?” he lectured.

“Don't worry, I got that covered. I already knew where he was at before I came here, calm down,” replied Lenore.

“All right, I feel you, I'm just sayin' though, it wouldn't be a good look on my part. Son wouldn't understand this right here,” he animated with a hand gesture to indicate them dealing with each other.

Jeff remembered when he first introduced Lenore to his man Mike B after she had just moved from L.A. three months prior. A beautiful three months he recalled. When Denise asked him could a friend of hers come and stay with them for a little while, he was hesitant and reluctant because he didn't know what type of female Lenore was. He didn't want someone coming into his home corrupting his wifey. But he agreed to allow her to stay with them only on the strength of the love that he had for Denise, not to mention the overtime persuasion she put in with her lips, tongue, and throat. There was no way that he could resist her fellatio.

When he drove Denise to the airport to pick Lenore up and Denise walked out of the terminal with her, his only thought was,
Damn
.

There was no doubt that his baby Denise was a quarter piece all around the board, from head to toe, but Lenore was definitely a fifty-cent piece. As the two girls were approaching his car, he examined Lenore.
Even her walk is mean like she has on a perfect pair of Seven jeans with that cat-walk strut to the car
, he thought. She reminded him of young version of Pam Grier in her Foxy Brown years in the face, but had the body of Delicious. Her look was more exotic, with her caramel complexion and chinky eyes that made her appear to look as if she were stepping off of the plane from the Fiji Islands or some other Caribbean and not from Los Angeles.

Jeff knew that someone as gorgeous as Lenore had to be trouble, especially if she didn't have a man. He became more skeptical, despite the fact that he was instantly attracted to her. When they were introduced, she sounded just as she looked. He was careful not to stare too long at her out of fear of Denise becoming jealous. He knew how women were, but he had no idea particularly how Denise and Lenore could be. Not until they threw him a surprise birthday party that following month, at the Radisson in Piscataway.

That was a night that he would never forget. It was the first night that he had ever experienced a ménage à trois, with him being the meat while Lenore and Denise played the bread to complete the human sandwich. That night Jeff was told about Denise's and Lenore's past dealings and surprisingly Jeff was cool with it, especially since he was privileged to be a part of the sexual escapade. After all, he was now living out every man's fantasy. That was until Mike B met Lenore at Nell's in Manhattan while out with Denise. Instantly, the two hit it off and began seeing each other. At first, Jeff wondered if he should fill Mike B in on his own behind closed doors activity but then thought better of it.

There was no need to expose his wifey and her friend as being freaky and bisexual. Beside in his book, three was company, four was a crowd and he was not trying to share is wifey with his man, that was out of the question. Initially the threesomes continued, but the more Lenore saw Mike B, the less Denise and Jeff did, in the bedroom that is. It should not have surprised Jeff when Lenore said she was moving in with Mike B but he was.

He could not believe that Mike B had basically wifed Lenore up. He was under the false impression that Lenore was just merely a convenient piece for Mike B, let him tell it whenever he made mention to Mike B about her. He didn't want to seem like a hater, but Mike B was his man and he could not sit back and let him go through with his intent without at least knowing what he was against. He was positive Mike B had no clue, because if he did, he would have never fallen for a chick that Jeff had slept with, knowing the two of them were like brothers. That was against the rules.

Jeff had gotten upset with Denise and approached her, convinced that she had known of the extent and depths of Lenore's and Mike B's dealings. When confronted, Denise admitted to having knowledge, and before the night had ended, she had also deterred Jeff from what she called, interfering with people's happiness. That was years ago, and since then, because he allowed his little head to overpower his big one, around every birthday or whenever they felt the urge, Jeff, Denise, and Lenore still got together and joined in their triangle of sin without Mike B having any inclination.

“Yo, you spoke to Denise? I been trying to reach her all morning at the other crib and on her cell phone but she ain't pickin' up,” said Jeff.

“Yeah, I just left her.”

“Oh, word, where she at?”

“She taken care of somethin' and then she'll be here.”

“That's what's up, we ain't gotta wait on her, right?” he asked with lustful eyes, rubbing his hands together, back and forth.

“You know I been wantin' to get you alone for a minute. You got thick as hell,” he said already undressing her with his eyes.

“No, we ain't gotta wait,” Lenore paused. “It looks like you were already expectin' me,” she said making reference to the print in the front of his jeans, playing along with his greediness.

Jeff smiled. “How long before Denise be here?”

“Probably another forty-five minutes.”

“Cool, I need to hop in the tank right quick. I don't want you to have to suck on no salty nuts,” he joked, but Lenore found no humor in his words, still she let out a fake laugh.

“Nigga, you crazy, go 'head. I might join you.”

“Yeah, no doubt,” Jeff replied as he headed toward the bathroom.

Lenore wanted a few minutes until she heard the water to the shower running.

Jeff lathered up his body in soap, and then centered himself up under the shower head, closing his eyes as he rinsed the foam off of him. The thought of having Lenore all to himself in just a few moments excited him, causing him to be fully erect. This would be the first time he and Lenore had ever shared a sexual rendezvous together without Denise being present and he wanted to savor the moment. He began stroking his Johnson rhythmically, with the intent of reaching an orgasm. There was no way he was going to sex Lenore with a starter pistol and prematurely shoot a blank. His intentions were to bed her with a loaded gun and go out in blaze of glory. As he continued to masturbate, he envisioned his hand as being Lenore's mouth that he had the pleasure of experiencing on many occasions but never one on one.

“Yeah, suck it baby, yeah like that,” he sighed and moaned, while licking his lips.

Between the steam and heat of the see-through glass doors and the lathered foam of the soap he used as a lubricant, Jeff was caught up in his own rapture. So caught up, that he hadn't even heard Lenore come into the bathroom. As Lenore stepped into the bathroom, she could see Jeff's silhouette through the glass, despite all of the steam.
This was better than I planned,
she thought as she got closer to the shower. She could hear the moans of Jeff coming from inside and automatically caught on to what was taking place. “This freak muthafucka,” she uttered under her breath, as she pulled out the silencer equipped weapon. She raised the pistol in the direction of Jeff's silhouette and aimed for his head.

Jeff felt himself reaching his peak and began stroking his manhood harder, increasing his speed, as he became obscener with his words.

“Oh, yeah, suck it bitch. You're the best,” he carried on as his body began to jerk. “Drink for daddy, aah! Drink that shit. Drink it all,” he moaned and groaned, as the fluid drained from his joint, causing him to hold on to the wall.

Breathing heavily from the intense orgasm he just had, Jeff adjusted the hot water to warm, closed his eyes, and let it run on top of his head in an attempt to cool himself off. While in the process, a strange feeling overcame him. Something inside of him told him that he was no longer alone in the bathroom. This caused him to open his eyes and when he did, he could not believe what he saw. Confusion would have been the best word to describe how he felt. At first, he thought that he was hallucinating as he wiped his face with his hands, but when he removed them, there she was, still standing there with gun a in her hand.

“Y—yo, what the—” was all he had a chance to stutter, never knowing why his life had been taken.

Lenore dumped six shots into Jeff's body, shattering the glass of the shower. Without hesitation, she turned around and exited the bathroom.
Mission accomplished
, she thought as she headed for the door. Prior to putting on the leather gloves, she was sure that she had wiped down all that she had touched. Reaching the door, before she left out, Lenore dropped the gun on the floor and then she was gone.

Mike B continued to restlessly sit in the gray walled interrogating room for what seemed like an eternity. Countless minutes had gone by he was sure of, but what seemed like forever had only been a few hours. Determined to stay awake, Mike B tug of warred with the slumber that did it's best to overpower his body, as he tried to gather his thoughts. The anonymous call that Detective Wilson played back to him still had him in a state of disbelief.
How could he have been so careless as to let someone see him leaving the scene of the crime,
he thought. For the first time in his life since being in the game, Mike B did not feel like he was in control of things. He usually was on top of his game and had an answer for everything, but not this time. For the life of him he could not figure out this twisted ordeal.

As he sat there racking his brain with possibilities, the room door opened. When Detective Wilson stepped inside the interrogation room, instantly Mike B could sense that something was wrong. There was a different look about the detective, one that Mike B was not used to seeing on the man's face. Again, he had a folder up under his arm, but judging by the newness, Mike B knew that it was not the same folder as before. Detective Wilson slammed the door behind him shut, causing the sound of wood to ring off throughout the entire precinct.

The murderous look in his eyes nearly startled Mike B, only because he had never seen the detective in such a mood before in all the years that they had their run-ins. He wondered what could have happened between the last time he saw the man and now that would cause him to go from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde. As he pondered on the question, the only thing that came to mind was his man, Jeff. He remembered that Wilson's last words before leaving the room was that they'd be bringing in Jeff for questioning, so he was sure that played a part in his change of mood. Although he didn't want to believe it and refused to believe it, Mike B wondered what could Jeff had told Detective Wilson. Whatever it was, he would find out just as he would find out the contents of the new folder as well.

As if reading his mind, Detective Wilson again presented Mike B with the folder, only this time he walked up on him and slammed the pictures to reveal themselves from out of the sides, as Wilson leaned over to Mike B and spoke.

“Look, enough is enough,” he shouted. “I'm tired of playing games with you Michael,” he paused, addressing Mike B by his full first name. He had never done that before, which only indicated to Mike B that he was definitely pissed off about something. As Detective Wilson continued with his ranting, Mike B unsuccessfully tried to figure out who was in the pictures inside the folder as he was only able to see a kneecap and arm.

“I don't know what the hell is going on but if you ever want to see day light again, you better come clean with me. I got enough on you right now to open all of these murders on your behind, you hear me?” he yelled into Mike B's ear.

Murders? All what murders?
Mike B thought to himself. Mike B had no clue as to what it was Detective Wilson was talking about. He was convinced that Wilson was barking up the wrong tree when he put the letter
S
on the word murder.

There was a strong possibility that he had enough to indict him on Gee-Live's death but not a guaranteed conviction. Outside of that, Mike B was sure that the detective was bluffing, or so he thought. Curiosity over whelmed him now at the sound of hearing Detective Wilson's words, and he now wanted to know the identity of the batch of photo's before him. Looking down at the folder, before he had the chance to open it, Wilson got back in his ear.

“Go ahead, open it!” he shouted. “As a matter of fact, let me do you the honors,” he said, snatching the folder open, revealing Jeff's naked, lifeless body.

Seeing a dead body had never phased Mike B before whether up close or in photos. To see his right hand man lying there with one hole in his forehead, four in his chest, and one in his midsection caused him to react.

“Yo, what the fuck is this shit man,” he blurted out as tears began to form in his eyes at the sight of Jeff in the pictures.

Detective Wilson was not impressed by his reaction. “You tell me,” Detective Wilson replied nonchalantly.

Mike B was not in the mood for any sarcasm. His first instinct to Detective Wilson's sarcastic remark was to jump up and hook off on him. The fact that he could possibly be insinuating that he had something to do with his man's death had Mike B wanting to kill the detective for disrespecting him. By now, his blood was boiling at an all-time high and he was ready to explode while he inhaled and exhaled repeatedly as if he had just run a hundred-meter dash. All he could think about was who could've violated and done his man like that. He wondered if it was in retaliation for Gee-Live's death? If so, how so? Did someone see them kidnap Gee-Live? Were they followed?

Is that where the anonymous call came from? How did they catch Jeff slipping like that? And was he next? All types of questions raced through his mind as the tears started to fall from his eyes.
How did it come to this?
he thought. As the realization of the matter began to set in. There was no doubt in his mind that he was going down, but there was no way that he was going to wear the weight for the death of his own man. Now he was determined to find out what Detective Wilson knew. As cool as he could, he dried his eyes by wiping his face all in one motion before he spoke.

“Yo, Wilson, I don't know what the fuck is goin' on either man and I don't know who slumped my man. Shit, I don't know who got something to do with it,” said Mike B, hoping to get some answers out of the detective or at least some type of indication who was behind Jeff's murder.

Detective Wilson listened as Mike B spoke but didn't hear a word that he said. He thought by showing Mike B the photos of the dead body, seeing that would cause him to tell his side of the story that lead up to all of the chain of events that they had concrete evidence against him. Instead, Mike B insisted on playing the innocent victim role and Detective Wilson was fed up with allowing him to play on his intelligence.

“You know what, Michael?” Detective Wilson paused. “You're a real piece of work. It's funny to me, though, that you don't know anything, but everything thus far leads to you. I mean, what am I to think?” he asked, not intending to receive an answer. “Here we have an anonymous caller that gives a description of two men with big dark coats on running from the area of the crime scene. One coat, which you had on your person, fits the description, and another was found at your boy's crib. Then your SUV was spotted in the area around the time of the call.

“Next, we have another dead body, someone who was supposedly a friend of yours, who you gave us as an alibi, that DNA from saliva found on Gee-Live Young's body matched, not to mention the fact he tested positive for gunpowder residue on his hand. So if the two of you were together, then I can only draw one conclusion, and being that there were two different calibers of bullets in Young's body, you'll be tested as well. However, that may not be necessary seeing as how ballistics came back with your prints on the weapon confiscated, which happens to be an identical match to the weapon used on both Young and your boy.

“Then there's the additional weapon that was found at Jeffrey Smith's apartment that matches one of the murder weapons for Gee-Live Young and for Anthony Twan Roberts, which definitely gives you motive. Seeing as how the deceased was your first cousin. The way I see it, your boy Jeff felt that three was a crowd, seeing how you all were a three-man team, so he got rid of him. Then he tried to pass it off to look like Gee was the one that killed him and convinced you of it, knowing that you'd believe him and seek revenge.

“I suspect during the time you were planning to kill Gee, you had your doubts, but by the time you put the pieces of the puzzle together, it was too late. Young was already a dead man. Just to satisfy your curiosity, you confronted Jeff with your suspicion, not even realizing that he was the actual culprit. He probably answered your questions in an attempt to set your mind at ease, probably even told you that you were bugging out, assuring you that you had killed the right man, and told you to go sleep it off. Agreeing that he was right, you set out to leave, but as you were leaving, something dawned on you, and you realized that your boy Jeff said something out of pocket that only someone involved in your cousin's death would had known.

“In a flash, that realization of the loopholes in Jeff's answers became clear as day to you, and you doubled back into the apartment in a blind rage and total confusion. Your intentions were to confront him, but when you go back in his room, you hear the shower running. You then enter the bathroom, and all types of thoughts are going through your head, without even realizing, you let off six shots, and then you flee. In such a hurry to get up out of there, you accidentally drop your gun at the door when you leave.” Detective Wilson concluded with giving his theory of what he thought took place.

“Correct me if I'm wrong,” he added but got no response.

Mike B was in such awe behind his words that he hadn't had a chance to even digest or decipher the twisted theory just given to him by Detective Wilson, let alone to correct, add on to, confirm, or comment on the situation. The only two things that Mike B was actually sure he had heard that came out of the detective's mouth was that the murder weapon used to body his cousin was found with his man Jeff's prints on it, and the one used to body both Jeff and Gee-Live possessed his.

This can't be happening
, he thought, as he began to pound on his forehead with his fist, trying to make sense of things. Despite his personal feelings, not wanting to believe that his right hand man murdered his cousin, he could not disregard the signs. All evidence pointed to Jeff, but why was what Mike B wanted to know. What happened between the two of them that he overlooked brought it to this? Was it jealousy? Was it over a female, or over money? Or was it just simply a misunderstanding?

These were some of the thoughts and questions that weighed heavy on Mike B's mental. For the life of him, he could not figure out why neither his flesh and blood nor his right hand man could not come to him with whatever problem that they had with the other in hopes of a resolution. What was that serious or so important that it had to end in lives being taken, Furthermore, he wanted to know how did Jeff come to being slumped? Was it in connection to the death of Twan or was it just merely a coincidence and justice was served? And most of all, by whom? Mike B dwelled on their mysterious questions so much until his head began to hurt. He was going through mixed emotions at this point. The ultimate betrayal had been committed and he didn't have a clue as to why. He was so broken up inside behind hearing the fact that Jeff was the cause of losing his cousin, that he didn't even think to ponder on how the authorities obtained a weapon with his prints on it. That is, until Detective Wilson started back up with his conversation.

“So, I guess I hit the nail on the head then, huh?” Detective Wilson asked, breaking Mike B's train of thought.

“What?” asked Mike B, snapping out of his daze.

“Look kiddo, if it happened similar to the way I said it did and you give me a sworn statement that that's how it went down, then it would make a helluva difference in what you're being charged with. It could determine whether you spend the rest of your life in prison or not. I mean, there is a lot of evidence that leads to Jeffery that will stand up in a court of law and possibly prove that you were coerced and manipulated into participating in the murder of Gee-Live Young. And then there's the fact that the plates from the car seen in the area of where your cousin's body was found matched your Mercedes at the DMV. If you could establish your whereabouts on January 11th and prove that he borrowed your vehicle, then it puts him at the scene of the crime. As far as his death is concerned, any prosecutor can see that it was not premeditated. It was done in the heat of the moment, a crime of passion, which is far better than murder in the first. All you have to do is give me your testimony,” ended Detective Wilson, now trying to sound empathetic.

As Mike B listened attentively to Detective Wilson, his mind began to back pedal as something the detective said triggered his thoughts. It was a known fact that occasionally he and Jeff switched whips for various reasons. Either the other was creeping or tricking on the side with a next chick and couldn't risk getting caught or seen by wifey or someone who knew wifey. Then there were times when they switched for business purposes. Whether they were paying a visit to their connect or just simply wanted to change it up. The date January 11th floated through Mike B's mind. It was now March 26th, and more than two months had passed. He could barely remember what he did yesterday, thanks to the pounds and pounds of Hydro and Purple Haze weed he had smoked throughout his life time. He knew that two and a half months ago would be somewhat of a task to remember, but still he had to try. It was important because his life depended on it. As he back tracked to the last time he remembered he and Jeff switching whips, it was on Jeff's birthday, which was on March 3rd. He wanted to hold the Range to take Denise to a concert at Radio City Music Hall. Then there were three times in February, once when they switched trucks again because Mike B needed the space that the Denali provided to pick up some materials from Home Depot to fix up his crib. Another time when Mike B borrowed Jeff's Benz because he was creeping with a chick that had a friend that knew Lenore, and then the third time when Mike B gave Jeff his Benz to go to New York to meet the connect.

When he reached the month of January, he came up with a blank. He could not recall a time when the two of them had exchanged vehicles. He thought long and hard, and then just like that, the date popped in his head, January eleventh. That was the day that Jeff kept the Benz overnight because he had consumed too much alcohol at a club out in Philadelphia called Palmers and was unable to drive. Jeff dropped him off at home and took the Benz home with him.