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Tony snapped to attention and damn near saluted Detective Farrell when he walked into the office. Farrell chuckled slightly as he motioned for him to sit down. He didn’t waste any time explaining the situation at hand. Tony listened intently. Once his options were put in front of him, he realized he didn’t have much of a choice. The way he looked at it he had no one. Gram was gone. None of his boys contacted him about her being sick. Not one of them. Tori left. She is probably doing her. Or someone else. Not like she checked up on him none. But after the beach trip and the way her treated her, what did he expect?
Tony just didn’t seem to fit anymore. Like a square peg in a round hole. Now according to Detective Farrell if Tony didn’t follow through on this well constructed plan, he was gonna be in a more awkward shape, behind bars. They had enough to lock Tony up, but told him they would rather know what really happened. In exchange, Private Anthony Brown, would be forever stationed somewhere classified. His life would start anew. Tony took a deep breath and nodded, and Detective Farrell turned on the tape recorder.
Trudy was slowly ironing a black dress
Malik was securing a drop piece for Dell.
Sticks was making sure Dell was returning his hourly text messages.
Tori was hurriedly freshening up so that she could get Michael’s hair braided.
It was all in motion. Once it was started, people’s worlds were going to stop.
If someone saw Sticks leave the florist, one would assume that his Cheshire cat smile was sincere. In all actuality, he knew shit was about to get real. Several times Sticks contemplated calling Dre, but the only thing that would do was anger or worry him. Sticks knew Dre too well, and knew for a fact that he would leave Illinois to tie up the loose ends himself. He didn’t need that. So it was final, Sticks would handle things himself. He sighed heavily when he got into his truck to head back to the hotel. The sigh was one of relief.
He knew the plan, if needed, would be successful.
The floral arrangement that would be sent to Trudy had instructions on the card for Dell and Malik. Now all he had to do was wait. Once Tony was taken care of, this shit would be over.
For Detective Ross and Farrell, however, it was just getting started. In a non-descript car, they followed Sticks back to his hotel and watched him enter the building.
“How long before you think he’s gonna come back out?” Ross asked.
Farrell shrugged, “We’ll give him an hour. If he doesn’t come out, we’ll have to go up and get him.”
Forty five minutes later, they entered the hotel lobby. As the clerk went to pick up the phone Farrell flashed his badge and Ross drew his gun. The clerk stepped away from the desk.
“Gentlemen…” a voice interrupted, “We don’t need all the extras.” Sticks voice echoed in the high ceilings as they rushed over and each grabbed one of Sticks’ arms.
“Samuel Martin, you are under arrest for the murders of Robert Hunter…”
“I want my lawyer.” Sticks said with no emotion in his voice.
“Clifford Foxwood …”
“I want my lawyer.”
“And William Green.”
“And, I want my lawyer.”
“You have the right to remain silent…”
Trudy was just putting on her shoes when there was a knock at her front door. She sucked her teeth as she tip-toed down the attic steps to her kitchen. She knew who it was and she silently thanked Violet for being the reason her drapes were closed. She was unseen by the detectives who were knocking a little louder now. She opened the kitchen cabinet, pulled out her cell phone, and texted Malik and Dell.
Headed to the funeral; Sticks said save him a seat.
There was no text back. There was no need. Both knew, the cops had Tony and Sticks. And since Sticks was the one being spoken about, Tony was who was missing.
Or would be missing. Malik handed Dell the piece, and Dell tucked it in the holder inside his jacket. Not a word was spoken as the throat clearing, frowned brows, and deep sighs said enough. Dressed in black suits they waited in a black car outside of the funeral home for Tony to arrive. Surprisingly, there were a lot of mourners coming in and out paying their respects to a woman Malik didn’t think anyone knew. They were all older though, and neither Malik nor Dell recognized anyone. Malik let out another deep sigh, as he noticed Ms. Trudy coming down the walk. Out of the side of his eye, he looked over at Dell, who put his head down and exhaled with a long, drawn out blow.
“Where the fuck is this bamma?” Malik asked out loud not expecting a response.
“He probably will come last. He’s like the only relative and shit,” Dell replied.
Malik sucked his teeth, “Yo college boy, do you know what a rhetorical question is?”
“Fuck you Leek.”
“Apparently not.” Malik mumbled.
Dell looked in the rearview mirror and saw Tony walking down the street in full uniform carrying his gear. He went to open the car door, but Leek stopped him by grabbing his arm.
“Fuck you doin? You gonna shoot him now? And all the mourners gonna come outside to see what the…you know what? Gimme that shit. Sticks was right; you ain’t cut out for this life.”
Malik took the piece and wiped it down with his stocking. Tony entered the funeral home and the organ was heard until the ushers shut the doors. Malik got out and walked around to open Dell’s door. Dell had a confused look on his face.
“Pull the car around the corner.” Malik commanded as he damn near sprinted to the doors of the funeral home. He slowly opened the doors and stood in the vestibule. Unfortunately or not, this funeral home was the nicest in the city. He was there often as a child and teenager. He knew where all the exits were. Even the emergency one behind the pulpit. It led to the street around the corner. He looked around and saw Tony kneeling in front of his grandmother’s casket. Swiftly, Malik pulled the stocking over his head and in five large, quiet steps the top of Tony’s head landed on his grandmother’s face. The last thing Malik heard was the screams over the organ as he slipped out the hidden door and into the back seat of the getaway car.
They couldn’t go to Sticks, because he knew the cops had him. He damn sure wasn’t gonna tell Dell to drive to his crib because Dennis, as cool as he seemed to be, would freak the fuck out. With his mom bein pregnant and all, that wouldn’t work. They couldn’t go to Dell’s with the Pastor there. Trudy’s was out of the question now.
I did that shit in front of Trudy.
Wait, but she knew about it.
Why am I trippin?
Why is Dell circling the perimeter of the city?
“Da fuck you goin dude?” were the first words Malik uttered. He looked at Dell who was more ashen than Ms. Violet was in her casket.
Oh fuck this bamma is in shock!
“Dell!” Malik snapped.
“What mothafucka, what?!!”
Thank you; he snapped out of it.
“Where we goin?”
“The fuck you mean we? I’m goin the fuck home. You gonna rent a hotel room or some shit.”
Dell finally turned to look at Malik and his eyes dropped to the bloody splatter and grey matter on his suit. He gagged and pointed.
“Dude his brains…”
“On some real shit, shut the fuck up Dell!!” I gotta go. You have a key to Stick’s room?”
Dell was still starin at Malik’s suit.
“Dell, bamma do you hear me?!”
“Yeah man, I fuckin heard you. And yeah, I have a key card.”
“Why didn’t you say so?!!”
“I just did.”
“Well that’s where the fuck we goin then.”
“I told you Leek, I’m goin the fuck home.”
Dell pulled in front of the hotel, pulled out his wallet, handed Malik the key card, and sped off.
About the Creator
Majique MiMi
You can call me MiMi. I’m a Brain Aneurysm & Stroke Survivor & Former English Professor. I write to stay sane, and to keep gratitude in my Spirit & Praises in my mouth.
Check out my series starting with Hood Ornaments
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