Always Unique (9 page)

Dumping the stolen diamonds proved to be a supersized headache for Fat Tee. What was the worth of one hundred and forty-five flawless diamonds, all three carats or better?

Retail value: almost two million, but on an open market with no buyers: zero.

If Fat Tee didn’t want a first-class ticket on a Grey Goose straight to somebody’s prison yard, he knew that he had to be patient and move the diamonds slow. One at a time if that’s what it took. Three weeks went by before he’d made his first successful transaction. So far, he had sold four—two each to a couple of shady diamond dealers downtown—which meant that there were still a hundred and forty-one to go. The weight of the $20K in his pocket gave him the inspiration to stay the course. He flipped his initial idea of hightailing it back to the R to get rid of the stones there, but dismissed the notion after deeper thought. Sure, he would feel more comfortable and would be able to maneuver more in Richmond, but comfort damn sure didn’t mean an easier task.

The loud rapping, knuckles banging against the room’s door, startled him. The fact that the knock wasn’t followed by, “Open up! Police!” and that the door was still on its hinges was a good sign. He didn’t believe in that type of stuff—hunches, signs, and all that—but he should’ve.

Fat Tee rose, broke off the four steps it took to get from where he was seated to the door. “Who is it?” he said.

The voice from the other side answered back, “Bone.”

This was the dude Fat Tee had been waiting on.

Still talking through the door. “You by yourself?”

“Didn’t think it was that type of party. But I can go get a few more people, if you want,” Bone said. “Ain’t no big deal, partna.”

Fat Tee slid the dead bolt to the left, then released the lock. “Just being cautious,” he said once he’d opened the door. “Come on in.”

The guy crossing the threshold was six foot two, brown-skinned, with a close haircut. Bone looked to be in his early thirties, around the same age as Fat Tee. He carried a small zip-up bag in his right hand. Noticing that Fat Tee’s eyes were glued to it, Bone said, “The money,” as he walked by.

Fat Tee nodded. “Like I said—” he closed the door and slid the dead bolt back home “—just being cautious.”

The room grew quiet with distrust and suspicion, even though the two of them had been introduced by a mutual friend of a friend. It was simple: Fat Tee had diamonds he was trying to sell and Bone had money that he was trying to spend on diamonds. The time and place was arranged over the phone, but this was the first time the two men were meeting face-to-face.

Bone broke the awkward silence. “Mind if I see what I came to buy?” He sat in the same seat, at the worn coffee table, that Fat Tee had been keeping warm earlier. He tried to act casual, but he had busy eyes.

Digging in the front right pocket of his jeans, Fat Tee pulled out a small black felt pouch and tossed it to Bone. Bone’s eyes tracked the pass like a sure-handed receiver and he made the catch easily.

With his index fingers, Bone wedged the top open and then poured the contents of the pouch into his palm. The brilliance from the diamonds in Bone’s hand twinkled like a new sunrise. He was impressed. He took one of the diamonds from his palm and with his thumb and index finger, rolled the stone back and forth like he was priming his woman’s erect nipple. He licked his lips lustfully as he marveled at its beauty.

With his eyes still on the prize, Bone said, “How many more of these babies do you have on you?”

Fat Tee wasn’t that stupid by a long shot; he’d only brought three diamonds for this meeting’s first show-and-tell. The other hundred and forty-one stones were upstairs on another floor, in a second room he rented.

“Only the three,” Fat Tee lied. “But I can make a call. Get a few more sent up from Richmond”—he looked into Bone’s eyes—“if the price is right,” reminding Bone that he had yet to see any money to complete the transaction at hand.

Responding to the not-so-subtle hint in a tone that sounded as if he was offended, Bone said, “My cheddar’s good, bee. Ask around.” To prove the point, Bone reached for the bag he’d brought into the room, the one he said contained the money and unzipped it. Knowing good and well that a pistol could have found a home inside just as easily as the money, Fat Tee was on edge, his muscles tightening. He didn’t relax until Bone dumped what looked like four ten-thousand-dollar stacks out on the table. More than enough to pay for the three diamonds he held in his palm. “And there’s plenty more where this comes from,” Bone said.

Jackpot,
Fat Tee thought to himself.

They’d already negotiated, in the blind, on seven thousand dollars a pop for the diamonds per satisfaction on sight. Judging by the smile on Bone’s face, apparently he was satisfied and ready to do more business.

Rather than let the other nineteen grand walk back out the door, Fat Tee was tempted to run upstairs and get a few more of the diamonds. But to do so would give away his edge. He remembered the promise he’d made to himself about being patient.

“Like I said, I can get more, but you’re going to have to give me twenty-four hours, no more than forty-eight, to get ’em here,” he said.

“Too bad,” said Bone, his hand snaking around to the back of his waistband. The reptilian hand returned, holding a black Glock. “Don’t think I’m going to be able to wait that long. Frankly, I ain’t got that type of time to waste on you.”

Bone put the four bogus bankrolls—cut-up newspaper with hundreds on the top and bottom of each stack—back in his bag, along with the diamonds. When he zipped it, to Fat Tee’s ears it sounded like a body bag being closed.

“What’s taking you so long, bee?” Bone pointed the nasty end of the Glock at Fat Tee’s jewels, his
other
jewels. Fat Tee cringed involuntarily. “I told you that I didn’t have all day, didn’t I? Now turn your pockets out like rabbit ears. Let me see what else you holding.” Bone was as calm as he was composed. The way the ocean is before the storm.

With options as tight as the eyes of a drunken Chinese man, Fat Tee ran his pockets. They were empty except for a few bills: three twenties, a ten, and a five—chump change. “This all I got, bee,” he said, mirroring Bone’s New York vernacular. Fat Tee hated New York niggas. And being stung by one wasn’t helping with public relations as far as he was concerned.

A noise coming from the other side of the door caught both Fat Tee and Bone off guard and demanded their attention.

“You expecting someone?” Bone asked. His plan was to put a couple of slugs in Fat Tee’s head, using a pillow to muffle the sounds, but the unexpected guest may have put a wrinkle in that plan.

Working with the cards he was dealt, Fat Tee told a lie. “Just another customer.” In truth, he was just as baffled as Bone. He wasn’t expecting anybody.

Bone held up the bag where he’d put the diamonds and the fake money rolls. “I thought you said these were all the diamonds that you had?” he said suspiciously.

“Wasn’t sure if you would buy all three,” Fat Tee came back quick, and said with a poker face. “Hell. Wasn’t even sure if you would show up, bee. Not like we’ve ever did any type of…” His words trailed off as his eyes focused on the gun in Bone’s hand, his mouth dryer than a five-dollar-hoe’s pussy. “Not like we ever done any type of business before,” he finished.

Whoever was at the door hadn’t knocked, but the shadow from their feet could be seen through the crack at the bottom. Four feet. The math was simple. At least two people were out there, and nine times out of ten it wasn’t the Girl Scouts attempting to sell their Thin Mints cookies.

Fat Tee could tell that Bone was contemplating what to do. Improvisation had gotten many men killed, and even more locked up, when the wrong move was made.

Bone made up his mind. He said, “Lay facedown on the bed!”

Fat Tee, fearing the outcome of Bone’s plan stood statue still.

“Don’t make me ask you twice, bee!” Bone pushed Fat Tee toward the bed. “Now put that pillow over your head and count to a hundred.”

A NASCAR engine would have had trouble keeping up with the pace of Fat Tee’s heart rate when the pillow blocked out the light. Fearing that he would never see the light of day again, Fat Tee almost pissed on himself. One … two … three …

Bone rummaged through the drawers on the dresser and the armoire.

“Eight … nine … ten…”

He heard the door to the fridge open.

“Sixteen … seventeen … eighteen…”

Then he heard a sound that he wasn’t expecting but he was grateful he did. The window squeaked from years of neglect. He heard boots clanging against the metal. Bone made his way down the fire escape.

Thirty-nine … forty … forty-one … forty-two … forty-three …

Fat Tee opened his eyes. He hated New York niggas.

Fuck them bitches. GOD, if I live I’m packing up and getting the fuck outta here! But what the fuck and why the fuck I let this bitch keep putting me in these situations?

FIVE DAYS EARLIER …

The elevator doors glided open on the twenty-sixth floor. Dapper, charismatic, handsome Kennard DuVall was dressed as sharp as a tack as he stepped out of the metal box onto the plushy carpeted hallway with his Presidential Suite keycard in hand and an enormous smile on his face. As he strolled down the hallway, he had every right in the world to be high on life: In a few hours, he was about to pull off promoting the biggest boxing match of the decade and it was going down in New York City, his hometown. Madison Square Garden had already sold out months ago, the Pay-Per-View numbers were record-breaking and like water, the money was pouring in like the floodgates had been broken down. Not to mention the star power and media that had come into town to either cover or witness the bout between Taymar Woodley and Jockney Jang, two of the most controversial boxers of modern days.

All was magnificent in Kennard’s world. His money was right, his love life was tight, and in about six months, he was going to be a daddy. His best friend and love of his life, Unique, was expecting their first child. That last thought carved a colossal grin into his face. He felt like a jack-o’-lantern that had just gotten lit up. In his mind, finding Unique was like finding a needle in a haystack, good karma, or something one of the gods had sent to him. She was everything any man could want. Drop-dead gorgeous, she had a beautiful personality, and was giving, caring, honest, loyal, a freak in the bed, and built like a superhero.

In front of the suite, Kennard paused. He put his ear to the door. It was a habit he’d picked up a long time ago. Though he completely trusted Unique, he never liked surprises. He couldn’t remember what time Unique had mentioned that her glam squad would be there to get her all dolled up for the fight. He didn’t think she really needed the makeup artist or hairstylist anyway; she was already a doll from the get-go. However, he understood the type of girl she was. She looked like a beauty from a Cover Girl commercial from the moment he met her and had maintained that same image throughout their relationship. He knew that she always wanted to look her absolute best for
him
and to represent
him
in the finest way possible, so he just rolled with the punches and bankrolled all the costs. From the other side of the double doors, all he heard was silence, so he was certain he could get a few minutes of alone time with his girl.

He wasn’t known to be a trick-ass dude, and wasn’t in the business of taking care of women, but Unique was different. She genuinely strived to make him happy—however, whenever. She always put him first, making him her priority, and for that alone, he was happy to provide her with anything her heart desired.

Down the hall, a woman got off the elevator and gave him a hard, strange look. She probably took him for a jealous husband, a thief, or even worse, a pervert. A little embarrassed, Kennard straightened up and removed his ear from the door before the chick’s curiosity drove her to call security, a hassle he didn’t need. Hell, he’d booked the majority of the rooms on his floor, plus suites on three other floors in the hotel as comps for boxers, their entourage and families, and his VIPs attending the fight. Kennard shot her a this-is-my-room look, and then sheepishly shoved his keycard down the mouth of the automatic lock. The light turned from red to green.

The Presidential Suite was as opulent as it was huge. A white baby grand piano was the focal point of the room. He smiled, thinking there was something about a baby grand piano that represented class and wondered about the people who had occupied the room before him, who actually played. Baby grands sat in many living rooms of the wealthy and upper class without a single soul in the dwelling even knowing how to play one note of “Mary Had a Little Lamb.”

A long dining-room table was off to the left and comfortably seated sixteen, and a sofa and loveseat were arranged around a gas fireplace that had a fifty-inch flat-screen TV over it. There were four bedrooms, two on each side, and Kennard headed toward the master bedroom, which was on the far right of the suite.

Once inside, Kennard could hear the shower running in the bathroom. He knew Unique wasn’t expecting him. She had been so great about understanding how busy he was this week and not being on his heels, but keeping herself available when he needed her. They were supposed to meet downstairs later for pictures and then head out to the fight, but he knew she’d be delighted that he had found some extra time and decided to spend it with her.

Kennard felt bad about all the time he’d spent away from her over the past few weeks. Prior to this fight, they had spent a lot of quality time together, but he planned to make it up to her after the event was over. He was going to surprise her with a trip to Paris. Just the two of them—no assistants, no glam squad, no work, but plenty of play and monster shopping in the city of love. He’d already bought the plane tickets and had everything planned. He wanted to travel and to give her a good time before her belly started to show. Plus, travel would get harder, the further she was along.

He took off his suit jacket and thought about waiting until she got out of the shower, to surprise her. But then he remembered how long her showers usually were and changed his mind. He also didn’t have that long before duty would call. He tossed his Armani jacket onto the chair in front of the bed. If he hurried, he could join her for a
quickie
shower.