More Money for Good (12 page)

“All I know is good loving makes you do some strange things.”

“You should know,” Rita said to Rossi without even looking up from her hand of cards while we played a game of spades.

“I just hope he knows what he's doin',” Lauren added.

“Seems to be pretty sure of himself,” I let them know right before I threw down an ace of diamonds under gasps of disappointment to earn my team another book.

It was almost unbelievable that Saadia, the hall of fame reporter, had it bad for Tavious and he'd actually taken her out with his mother and her husband Ely for a meet and greet. Rita and Lauren used their women's perspective on the situation and were adamant that a woman could not actually fall for a man so quickly, especially if they found him intriguing.

Rossi agreed with me that there was no way a woman would take up so much interest in a man if she wasn't trying to get something from him. Rita thought that the reporter probably had some kind of fetish for being with a man who'd been locked up.

No matter what our opinions on the matter were, Tavious was treading lightly in a world he didn't know anything about with Saadia, in my opinion. Going from getting interviewed to getting laid was too much of a stretch for me. I didn't want to see him get into a situation he couldn't get out of by saying the wrong things to her. But he was a grown man able to do as he pleased, even though I promised Mrs. Bullock that I would keep the situation under control. This wasn't under control.

For the next several hours while Rita and Rossi were enjoying the thorough whipping they were placing on us in spades, our conversation remained on Tavious and what his mindset could have been trying to deal with the reporter. I would have imagined him having major trust issues because of being just released from prison. But everyone else was in agreement that feelings, emotion, and sex trumped anything else that may have been going on in his mind, and that's why at the moment he was someplace with Saadia getting all those needs met that had been abandoned the last twenty years.

We were basically going through the motions of the last hand because the game was pretty much over, and just when I nonchalantly threw the queen of spades out to overtake the ten of spades, even though I had a jack, there was a loud knock at the door which basically froze us all.

“Police! Open this got-damn door,” is what came after the pounding on my not-yet-one-month-old solid mahogany wood door.

“What the hell is going on?” Rossi stood up from the card table not knowing what to expect next.

I went over to my window that gave a direct line of sight to the front of the house, then looked out and saw what looked like no fewer than six police cars and one dog. I let everyone inside know that it was in fact the police and to be cool.

I looked over at Rita and Lauren and they were already visibly shaken by the intrusion. Rossi stood with his hands in his pockets and motioned for me to answer the door. As I walked over to the door there was another loud pound, then instructions to open the door again. I looked back at everyone, and as soon as I unlocked the door it was pushed open, and a white piece of paper was shoved in my face and fell to the ground before I could read it.

“Warrant, motherfucka.” It was Officer Williams, his partner Gus, and at least four other grimy cops who had made their way inside.

“What's this about?” I asked.

“Raid,” Williams said.

“For what?” Rossi wanted to know.

“Read the warrant, got-damn it,” Gus said to Rossi.

When Rossi reached down to pick it off the floor he was told by another officer not to fuckin' move.

“You just can't come up in here like this,” Lauren said.

“We did. And we are,” Williams said to her in a smart tone; then I saw his eyes travel over her body. Lauren moved back a bit, feeling uncomfortable.

I was getting upset with the entire situation. “Okay, so you are. What are you looking for?”

“Money,” Williams said. “two million dollars cash, so if you have anything like that up in here it would behoove your meddling-in-police-business ass to tell us now. If not, according to that warrant signed by the judge, in exactly twenty seconds we have the right to tear this place up, and believe me when I tell you, you will not recognize this place when we're done.”

When Williams mentioned the two million we all knew what he was talking about but we didn't know where it was either. There was no reason to even acknowledge that we even knew about the money because if we had, he would have taken us all downtown and had us in questioning the entire night.

So we kept our mouths shut, and just like the scumbag officer promised they commenced tearing my house apart, looking for the two million. When I asked the reason why they would think we had two million stashed in our home, I was told that I have been consorting with an ex-felon and they have reason to believe the friendship and employment have turned into criminal actions and activity.

I knew it was bullshit, and Lauren was devastated watching them tear up our new home, which she decorated top to bottom. The officers pulled up our rugs in several rooms, tore through drywall, broke several tables, punched holes in our ceilings and cut through every mattress in the house.

Rossi had seen enough and began to get upset with the officers, and Williams told him not to worry; his place more than likely would be next if he didn't shut the hell up. Three hours later they finally left, promising to come back as many times as needed to retrieve the millions of dollars they claim should have been turned in when Tavious was arrested twenty years ago.

Still out in the country suburb, Tavious and Ely stepped out of Ely's truck and approached what looked to be at least fifteen dog runs sitting behind the house less than seventy-five meters away. The dog runs were well lit just like the house. There was not a problem seeing the setup at all. At first glance each metal fence run looked to have at least three to four dogs inside with the same amount of housing.

“Geez, man, how many you got back here?” Tavious was amazed.

“The last count I had twenty-six, but who knows now because I've been waiting on my prime bitch to do what she does best.” Ely nudged Tavious on the shoulder and led him past the barking dogs in the runs and into a concrete structure that looked as though he had built it himself. It was completely concrete cylinder blocked on the outside and had concrete flooring on the inside. He had four different doors inside and they were all closed, except the one leading to a room where there was a desk, television, and a few chairs. He clicked on the lights to the office. “Welcome to E Kennels,” he said with extended arms.

After the long fluorescent lights on the ceiling fought through the flickering process of turning completely on and lighting the room, Tavious was able to focus his eyes on posters of dogs with the name E K
ENNELS
placed on the top of each one. Tavious took his time looking at the posters on the wall under the watchful eye of Ely, who was standing proud as though he would never get tired of seeing them. The dogs in the photos didn't look like some high-profile massive killers that could tear you a new one. The pictures of the dogs were simply showing their beauty.

Tavious pointed at one poster. “Rottweiler, right?”

“That's right, one of my best ever,” Ely mentioned.

Tavious walked closer to the poster right next to the Rott. “But this one here? What kind of dog is this? He's fuckin' beautiful.”

“That's Randolph, a champion Cane Corso.”

“Cane Corso?” Tavious repeated.

“Yeah, an Italian Mastiff.”

“He's huge . . .”

“A hell of a dog—there was a point in time when the only type of dog I would breed was the Rottweiler . . .”

“Why's that?”

“I love 'em, man, and they do have a way of making money. They are excellent guard dogs, family dogs, and companions. But check this here—one day a guy from Italy came by to check out my champion stud Rott that he wanted to take back to his home country and breed. He told me about the Cane Corso. I fell in love on sight. I couldn't believe a dog could be so beautiful. I mean, I had heard of the breed before, but you know how we are when we think what we are already doing is the best way. But after watching a tape of his dogs, I hopped my own flight to Italy, saw his dogs, and ended up doing a sign and trade for one of his champions and two sexy bitches. I have been breeding them since.”

After a few more moments of looking at the rest of the posters on the wall and Ely telling him the history of each dog displayed, Ely asked Tavious to follow him. They walked through the hallway in the direction of one of the closed doors in the concrete slab. Ely unlocked the door and they went inside.

Inside the five-by-five room was a dog that looked very familiar to the Cane Corso breed on the poster. It was down on the floor on a bundle of blankets. It didn't even think about standing up on its feet when they entered. The dog looked weak and Ely went over and stroked its head.

“It's okay, Patty Cake,” he told the dog. “You're doing fine girl,” he soothed her. “You have anything for me?”

Tavious watched closely as Ely looked down at the end of the dog and removed a blanket and picked up two little newborn pups that were cuddled up together.

“Oh yeah,” he said. Then he looked at Patty Cake again, who seemed like she had been through the drill a time or two before. “That's a good girl,” he calmed her. “Only nine more, okay? The doc said you could have at least eleven, so take your time, baby; it will be okay.”

Tavious moved forward to get a better look.

Ely continued to hold the pup in his hands. “Cane Corso pups, man. Champion bloodlines. I'm holding over four grand in my hand.”

Tavious declared, “I've never seen pups that color in my life.”

Ely looked up at Tavious from his kneeling position. “This is what we call rare blue. These pups' pigmentation didn't come all the way through. I have two rare blue studs out in the yard.”

Tavious moved a bit closer and bent down with his hands on his knees. Ely handed him the pup; it was a male.

“He's yours,” Ely said.

“What? Mine . . .”

“That's right, welcome home.”

A couple of hours had passed and the police had been long gone when I found out through Mrs. Bullock that the warrant served to search my home was a fake.

Rossi was triple teed off to the umpteenth power. He wanted some get back. Rossi was ranting over and over why he didn't trust the police from the first knock on the door.

Mrs. Bullock verified to us through one of her many contacts downtown that there had been no judge whatsoever who granted a warrant to search my house. The officers were running buck wild making their own rules.

“Those motherfuckers are looking for the money just like we are, West,” Rossi proclaimed. He went over to my liquor cabinet, or what was left of it.

I walked over to him, sidestepping broken glass, and poured myself a drink right along with him. “This is some bullshit, man.” I took my whiskey straight down while looking at my ransacked home. “I was beginning not to care one way or another about this money since Tavious went off on his Love Boat trip. But the police are in it. There is no way I am letting those crooked bastards strong-arm their way into some dough just because they think they're entitled because of their badges.”

“No doubt they are hunting for it,” Rossi said. “They are descendants of Stallings and that means they are some dirty sons of bitches.”

Lauren walked in the room with Rita and they both had trash bags and threw a few our way. I poured another drink and took it down much quicker than the first one. “This is about to come to a head. The police know about the money, we know about the money, and there is someone out there who has the money.”

“But it seems like nobody knows who that is,” Lauren said.

“And that's the way they plan on keeping it,” Rossi decided.

“Well the police got their information from someplace,” I remind them.

“But where?” Rita asked.

“That's the two-million-dollar question,” I said.

By this time Tavious and Ely had made it back into his office. Tavious thanked Ely for the pup but told him it would be difficult to travel out to where they lived to take care of him every day.

“Don't worry. I'll take care of him for you. We'll just keep him here. You come by and get acquainted from time to time. Soon enough you will fall for this dog so hard that I bet you money you'll take him home one day,” Ely assured him.

Ely's words didn't seem to register. Tavious hadn't kissed his hot scribe in over twenty minutes. He was looking out the one and only window in the room that pointed toward the house, probably wondering what his mom and newfound friend in lust were talking about.

Ely picked up on his dreamlike state then collapsed down in his chair and exhaled. He seemed to be struggling with something on his mind as well. Ely stared at Tavious as his back was toward him.

Tavious started looking at the posters on the wall again.

Ely picked up a pen from his desk, tapped it on the desk a few times, then said, “Dolla Bill . . . Mad Man Jones . . . Chewy Maddaux.”

Tavious turned around slowly, now engaged with Ely face to face.

Ely displayed a crooked smile then paused. “Old friends of mine,” he pronounced.

“Old friends?” Tavious inquired, knowing they were high-rolling drug dealers on the streets over twenty years ago who he knew all too well. Tavious's whole demeanor changed, almost as though he realized his celly stole something from him. “What do you mean old friends?”

Ely just wouldn't stop with the pen. Tap, tap, tap . . . His expression was not quite a smile. It was more like a devious bitch-ass look. Like he for whatever reason wanted to get under Tavious's skin.

“I have another name for you before I explain myself.” Ely had Tavious's full attention now.

Tavious moved closer to the desk to hear what he had to say.

Without delay, “Gully Brown,” he pushed.

Tavious and Ely lock eyes like two prized fighters. Ely seemed relieved that he spilled it.

“What the fuck you talking Gully Brown—Ely? Why are you slinging his name around me?”

Ely smiled. “He's a friend of mine too.” Ely sensed Tavious's inner confusion. Ely exhaled and began to clarify himself. “I grew up with him. Gully and me were good friends. Lived in the same hood, same school, everything. He just decided to go one way with his life and I went the other.” Ely paused, really enjoying the moment. “Ol' Gully and me go way back. Shit, we were so close that we told a few kids back in the day we were cousins.”

“Don't know what it has to do with me though,” Tavious lets him know.

Ely is a bit harder now. “Well, it has a lot to do with you, you see. When you were inside, I talked to Gully the night before he called it quits and moved to Mexico. I bet your ass he is curled up with a couple of Honey Dips, drinking that shit and living life nice and easy,” he said. Ely looked like he was getting tired of his own game. He stopped tapping his pen on the desk and finally got down to business. “Look, I bought the paper you owed Gully. Now you owe me.”

“Man, what the hell are you talking about?”

“The money you owed Gully, and stashed away right before you went to prison.”

“Wherever you got your information done told you wrong.”

“I don't think so. I got my info from Gully. Said you had the money after the pickup in Miami. It was a refund from another deal that you two did with his Cuban connect named Arturo. You used your half on more weed. But you were going to get thirty percent cash for the delivery of the money to Gully's front door. Gully figured you switched bags with someone on that bus before you were busted. But he never realized why you didn't switch the drugs, too.”

Ely noticed Tavious go back in time as he wondered the same thing.

“Oh, well, doesn't matter now. It took Gully some time to figure out the police didn't seize your shit. He wasn't going to wait around twenty years for your ass to finish your bid when he already had more than enough money in the bank.”

Tavious didn't say anything. Ely knew way too much info on Gully and the Cuban connect for his words to be lies but he still wasn't going to admit anything.

“Look, here's the bottom line. I purchased your debt from Gully for a fair price. You haven't been out long enough to spend the two million, so this is what I'm goin' to do.”

“Yeah, what's that?”

“I'm going to let you have two hundred thousand, because that's the type of man I am. Plus, we're family, right.”

“Fuck outta here,” Tavious said.

Ely laughed him off. “But you only get it if you take me this very moment to pick it up.”

“You must be out of your fuckin' mind,” Tavious told him. “You bought a bad note—that's if you stepped to it or not. No way I'm going to let you bully me on some bullshit.”

“So you're saying I'm perpetrating a fraud to get your paper?” Ely opened his desk drawer as he waited for Tavious's answer.

“That's exactly what I'm saying,” Tavious shot back.

“I thought you might say that.” Ely finds what he is looking for inside the desk and pulled out a piece of paper. He picked up the phone on his desk and began to dial. Tavious watched his every move. Ely pressed the phone on the side of his face and waited for his call to be answered. Then Ely smiled and pointed toward the receiver of the phone.

“Hey, I was expecting a spicy-hot mama named Maria to answer the phone.” Ely kept an eye on Tavious as he listened to the response. “Guess who I have standing in front of me? Your man, Tavious Bell. That's right—he did the twenty. I caught up with him and for some reason he doesn't believe that I own his ass until he gives me the two mil I purchased from you.” Ely chuckled. “Yeah, he's right here.” Ely took the phone off his ear and gave it to Tavious.

Tavious snatched the phone from Ely's hand. “Tavious.”

When Tavious heard the voice on the other end, there was no doubt it was Gully Brown, the man who he had done many drug deals with before. His voice was still raspy and low. Tavious listened to him explain what was going on and at the end of the conversation, Gully told him that he sold the note to Ely because he was sure that Tavious would never do the entire twenty without being killed inside.

“Well, you bet wrong,” Tavious told him right before slamming the phone back on Ely's desk. Tavious gave Ely a stern look then walked out of his office and back to the house to retrieve Saadia.