Greed (10 page)

“So you think she would take a vacation without telling me? Where? And with who? Other than us she doesn’t have one good friend in the whole damn state. Besides, Juicy wouldn’t go anywhere without telling somebody,” she said with certainty.

Frank sighed. He had no idea where Juicy was. If it was up to him he would have forgotten all about her, but his wife’s protectiveness of the girl, and the promise Frank had made to his old east coast associate, hung like a weight around his neck.

“I just get so afraid for her sometimes,” Renata confided, her voice dropping. “It’s like she just disappeared or something.” She thought for a moment, then asked, “What about the security guy who’s watch her condo? Has he seen her?”

Frank sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “I asked him this morning like you told me to. He said Juicy went out early yesterday.”  Frank left out the part the old guy had said about seeing someone near Juicy’s condo later that morning because when he went to check it out nobody was there.

Frank passed his wife the ice bucket and took the heavy tray from her hands. “We did everything we could do for Juicy. She’s an adult and she chose to leave our house and live on her own. She can do that you know.”

“I know, I know,” Renata nodded. “I just have a bad feeling about this, that’s all.”

 She led the way to the poolside patio and set out the ice, olives, and napkins. Settled once more in her lounge chair, she lit a cigarette and inhaled on it deeply before releasing the smoke through her nose.

“You know,” she turned to Frank and continued. “That girl is all alone in the world. We’re the only ones who would notice if she disappeared off the face of the Earth. I think we should take a ride over to her condo and see if everything is okay.”

Frank sighed again and tossed back a Martini. He had no desire to get off his ass on a warm lazy Sunday, but as the head of his family it was his job to run around and put out other people’s fires. 

“All right.” He glanced around at his clan as they ate, drank, and splashed around in his swimming pool. “Richie’s got the grill and Sallie and Paulie can handle the kids in the pool. Let me get the keys to the condo, and I’ll take you over there.”

$$$$$

By the time they arrived at the condo it was getting dark outside. Gino’s car was sitting in the driveway but Juicy’s car was gone. A couple of envelopes stuck out of the curbside mailbox. Renata got the mail and put it in her purse, and Frank unlocked the door with the extra key he had held back after he sold Gino the condo.

He opened the door and was shocked by what he saw. The place had been tossed. Furniture had been thrown everywhere, sofa cushions were sliced and gutted, closets had been ransacked, and every cabinet in the kitchen had been flung open and had its contents spilling out.

“Oh my God!” Renata covered her mouth.

“Stay here!” Frank ordered and pulled out his piece. He swept through the apartment looking for signs of static, although his instincts told him whoever had been here was already long gone.

The master suite had been hit hard. Juicy’s king-sized bed had been torn apart, and the mattress was propped against the wall with all the stuffing hanging out. The dresser had been knocked over and was lying flat on its back with all the drawers pulled out. Lamps, paintings, perfumes and toiletries were scattered on the floor, and the bedroom closet looked like it had been attacked by somebody who was searching for something important.

Frank was heading back to the living room when the cordless phone caught his eye. The message indicator was blinking. He pressed the button and listened as an automated message played.

When the message ended Frank removed the phone’s handset from the base then hit the redial button to see what number had been dialed last. The phone rang three times before it was answered.

“How the hell did you get home from the airport?” a voice on the other end demanded. The clear sounds of splashing water and a real lively backyard party could be heard in the background. “You were supposed to drive your own car home, Juicy!”

Frank frowned. He recognized the voice on the other end of the line. He recognized it, and he didn’t like it at all.

Without a word he placed the handset back on its base. He waited a few seconds and just as he expected the phone rang and shattered the silence in the condo.

Frank looked at the caller ID. It showed a California area code but the number was blocked.  He clicked the talk button, then pressed the phone to his ear and waited.

“Juicy? Juicy! Did somebody give you a ride home?” the caller sounded shocked. “Juicy? Why didn’t you just drive your own fuckin’ car?”

Once again Frank disconnected the call and put the phone back on the charger without saying a word. He didn’t want to alarm his wife, but the family had a problem. A very big problem. The man on the other end of the line didn’t know who Frank was, but Frank sure as hell knew him.

Frank locked the door behind them as they left the ransacked condo. There was a frown on his face as he mentally pieced the puzzle together. “There was a message on Juicy’s phone,” he told Renata.

“From who?”

“The Los Angeles International Airport. It was a recording. It said a car registered to Juicy’s address had exceeded its allotted time in a 24-hour lot and that they were gonna tow it if it wasn’t moved right away.”

“So she took a flight somewhere?” Renata said, surprised. “You mean she left L.A.? Why didn’t she tell me? And where the hell could she have gone?”

“I don’t know,” Frank said. “But her car is at the airport.”

“I have her key,” Renata said quickly. “She gave me a set after Gino died.”

“I need to use your cell phone,” Frank said.

“Where’s yours?” Renata said as she dug into her purse.

“I think I left it by the pool. I need to make a call.”

“Make it quick. My battery is almost dead.”

Frank took his wife’s phone and punched in a number. His nephew answered on the first ring.

“Aunt Renata, what’s up?”

“Sallie, it’s Frank. We’re on our way to pick up Juicy’s car. Stay at the house until I get back. We need to talk.”

“You’re going to the airport? Why? Wait! Don’t—”

Click.

“Phone died,” Frank said, handing it back to his wife. “Let’s go get this car before they tow the damn thing away.”

$$$$$

 “Yo, fuck that niggah!” Zero barked as Izzy pushed the ride down the highway. Darkness had fallen and the cold-blooded killer had other moves on his mind. “Why we going back out there when we already looked all over the place? If the whip ain’t there, then that shit just ain’t there!”

“Chill, my niggah,” Izz said as he glanced in his rearview mirror checking for cops. Zero was riding dirty, and the last thing he wanted was for this idiot to get all hyped up and start wildin’.

“Man, all this ridin’ back and forth is a waste of fuckin’ time, yo! I got other moves to make, nah’mean?”

Izzy igged his partner-in-crime and turned the music up real loud. The boom of the bass vibrated the car’s frame and shook the windows. He hit the gas pedal hard and the car lurched and picked up speed as they changed lanes and approached the airport exit.

“Yo, man. If we find it I’m taking that shit. Word. I’ma hotwire that bitch and push it all damn night.”

Izz had no expectations of finding the green BMW convertible. Zero was on point, that shit just wasn’t there, but they had a job to do so fuck all that whining. Izz was a soldier. He took his orders and followed them. All that waaa-waaa shit wasn’t gonna throw him off his mission. Nah, they were gonna hit that parking lot hard, and they were gonna find that goddamn whip if it was the last damn thing they did.

CHAPTER 13

Chiney actually was in the cell right next to mine, and we stayed up half the night talking through a small hole in the sheetrock. The crack was up high, so we both had to stand up and talk with our mouths close to the wall, but just having somebody halfway familiar to talk to made being uncomfortable worthwhile.

When I thought back hard enough I kinda remembered Chiney and her group of friends from high school, but in all that time I’d had no idea that she was Cooter’s little sister.

I found out that Chiney and Jimmy were the same age, and that the two of them had actually messed around a little bit back in junior high school before Chiney got all butchy and started pushing up on females.

Chiney was cool, though. I liked her right away. She knew all about the drama I had gone through with G in the G-Spot. She said every damn body in Harlem knew about it. She told me that a lot of people had felt real sorry for me when word got out about what G had done to me. She also said that no matter how hard folks had smiled all up in G’s face and kissed his ass when he was alive, a whole lot of them had been real damn happy when they found out he was dead. 

Chiney was locked up on a parole violation and only had a month left to serve. She was definitely a butch, but that didn’t bother me because she wasn’t coming at me with nothing but friendship.

So, instead of laying down on that hard ass bunk and crying myself to sleep, I stood facing the wall as me and Chiney took some crazy trips down memory lane. As bad as I missed Gino, and as much as I hated jail, I actually laughed once or twice when she reminded me of something wild that Jimmy had done or said.

“Your brother was fine, but he was crazy as shit you know,” she laughed. “I fucked with dudes back then, and one time he snuck me inside your crib so I could give him some pussy. But then your grandmother came home. We heard her coming up the stairs and Jimmy made me go up on the roof and hide.”

“Speaking of brothers,” I began, but then I had to swallow real hard to pull myself together. Me and Chiney had something real important in common, I realized. We had both lost our brothers because of G and his coldblooded way of life.

“I was real sorry to hear about your brother Cooter. He was real good to me. I think he just felt sorry for me. He used to look out for me all the time. “Matter fact,” I closed my eyes for a quick second and I could’ve sworn I smelled that pissy mattress in the funky Dungeon of the G-Spot.

“As a matter of fact,” I continued, “It was Cooter who helped me get out of the G-Spot when the rest of them niggahs wanted to kill me.”

“For real?”

I nodded as a tear slid down my face. “Yeah. It was the night that Jimmy shot G and then killed himself. They were getting ready to go get rid of the bodies. Cooter came downstairs with a key. He unlocked my chains and gave me an envelope full of cash that Moonie had left for me. Cooter said he was just doing for me what he wished somebody had done for your sister Charlene.”

I could hear Chiney’s sigh of sorrow through the crack in the wall. “Charlene was so young when she died. She never really got to live at all. Yeah, she was hardheaded and wild, but it seems like God woulda protected her, you know? The way he protects babies and fools.”

I understood how she felt. Just last night Grandmother had come to me in my dream. I had laid my weary head in her lap and asked her what I had done that was so wrong that God had to punish me like this. Grandmother had stroked my hair and told me, “God loves you, Juicy. He chastises, but he also rewards. You just keep the faith, baby. Fight the good fight. Your reward is coming.”