Watch Out for the Big Girls (17 page)

BOOK: Watch Out for the Big Girls
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Chapter Twenty-nine
The silver Phantom pulled up in front of Treasures as Freeze and Esco sat in the back finishing up a game of
NBA Live.
Tonight's wager was five grand. Both men thumbed the controllers vigorously while hundreds of partygoers on the line waited to get in. The scenery quickly shifted in a blink of an eye. First two motorcycles shot down the street without warning as human and vehicle traffic quickly scattered to clear the way just in time. The two matching pink and black R6s traveled at top speed and then in an instant they simultaneously hit their front brakes performing tricks as their back wheels lifted high up while their front wheels balanced the bikes, skidding down the length of the street, stopping and dropping the back wheels back down as they paused in between both clubs. The infamous roars of engines could be heard echoing in the air. Freeze dropped the PlayStation remote controller on the floor and stepped out of the Phantom. He stood in the streets with his arms folded, leaning against the vehicle. Numerous bikes with passengers on the back shot past him performing all sorts of tricks and stunts. Esco let himself out of the Phantom as well and also spilled into the streets and pulled up next to his partner in crime.
The two stretch Escalades slowly pulled up between both clubs as people cheered. They stopped in front of the Phantom. It was the closest Freeze had ever been to Starr. He watched as the driver stepped out and walked around the back and helped them step down. Starr purposely let herself out on Freeze's side. She revealed a devious grin as she cut her eyes at him that only Freeze caught. His face twisted up and turned to stone. Bubbles got out on the other side and the doors from the second Escalade opened wide. Both Freeze and Esco watched as the other women formed like Voltron around Starr. Freeze's eyes grew cold as Sparkle and Glitter peeled the helmets off. Although they looked his way, one would not think they had ever met before, let alone had both their mouths on his cock at the same time. He was sure they had been given specific instructions to carry that way. He eyed them as they floated through the strip. His eyes were pulled in a different direction from the sound of his right-hand man's voice.
“That's her right?” Esco asked for a second time thinking Freeze had heard him.
“Her? Who?” He looked in the direction Esco was facing.
“Prime's bitch, from that night we were gonna pop on them clowns,” Esco recapped the incident in a whisper.
Freeze ignored him. Instead, he locked eyes on Monica. The two also made brief eye contact. Seeing her with the Double Gs confirmed what he had thought that night. He was sure Prime had been the victim of the same heinous act he had endured. He studied her as Bubbles took her by one arm. Both women had a striking resemblance of beauty. The way they gracefully moved with hidden dominance was the same. All five of their backs turned to him and they strutted away into the trucks' high beams. They were immediately drowned by women in motorcycle jackets, sporting the most hated logo known to man.
These bitches gotta be stopped,
was the only thought that flowed through Freeze's mind as he watched them spill into the gay club across the street like they owned not only the club, but the city of Las Vegas as well.
Over at Club Panties, Starr, Diamond, and Bubbles made their way down to the lower level of the establishment in the three-floor elevator.
“I promise you, you would have thought he seen a ghost.” She continued her conversation about her and Freeze's brief exchange as they spilled out of the elevator. “You should have seen that nigga's face when he saw me.” Starr chuckled as she was the first to sit.
Diamond and Bubbles both pulled out their respective chairs. They now all sat in a private section of Club Panties discussing and contemplating their next move while the rest of the members partied upstairs.
The words,
“We're supposed to be a ghost who haunts, not wolves who hunt,”
spoken by Queen Fem, invaded Starr's mind. Things had definitely begun to spiral out of control at a rapid pace, she thought. Nonetheless, she was confident it was not too late to repair the damage done already, especially since she had her own ace in the hole. Queen Fem was not the only one in the organization who had resources and connections in high places. Starr smiled at the thought of being able to handle the situation without running to Queen Fem. Although she loved Queen Fem like a mother, lately she had grown tired of seeking help and guidance from her like a little girl.
I'm a big girl,
she told herself as she changed subjects.
“On a positive note,” Starr started out saying, “my insider informed me that this McCarthy guy has been removed from our case. The FBI's running scared. Thanks to you, of course, Diamond,” she commended her, rubbing Diamond's thigh under the tablecloth.
“I wish I could've seen his face,” Bubbles declared.
“He won't take this lying down, I'm sure, which leads me to my next topic of discussion.” Starr leaned in closer and spoke lower and in a more subtle tone. “I'm beginning to take these claims of an agent among us to be the truth.”
“Who do you think it could be?” Bubbles asked.
“I have my suspicions,” Starr retorted. “After a few more tests, I'll have my answer. But, for now, watch what you say or do around anyone. And when the perpetrator is caught, I'll deal with her myself. I'll give her a fair chance to fight for her life, right before she begs me to end it,” Starr proclaimed.
The other three women in the room nodded in agreement. They too wanted to know who the culprit was.
“Have you received any more calls?” Diamond asked.
“No.” Starr shook her head. “And that's the crazy thing about this.”
“Well, maybe it's a good thing. Maybe it was bogus,” Bubbles joined in.
“No, it wasn't bogus. Too many things have been happening lately. Luckily we stay on top of our shit.” Starr flashed a smirk. “With that being said, let's join the rest of our sisters and celebrate our minor victory,” Starr chimed. “And where the hell is Felicia?” Starr questioned.
Bubbles shrugged as she stood, knowing the question was mainly directed to her. It was no secret that she and Felicia hung out the most out of all the other members.
“I was wondering the same thing,” Diamond joined in as she backed away from the table. “Not like her to be late for a meeting.”
“I was wondering why my fucking ears were ringing.” Like magic, Felicia appeared out of nowhere with a partial smile plastered across her face.
“Where were you?” Starr looked down at her rose gold–toned Michael Kors.
“Putting everything together for that move you asked me to make,” she reminded Starr.
Starr nodded, remembering. The answer went over both Diamond's and Bubbles's heads. Bubbles brushed it off but Diamond felt different. “Keeping secrets now, are we?” Her eyes shifted from Felicia to Starr.
“It was on a need-to-know basis,” was all Starr offered, stone-faced. Her mood had instantly changed. She didn't appreciate Diamond's accusation and she wanted her to know.
“Oh, I guess I didn't need to know then.” Diamond rolled her eyes, although she knew she was out of line. As soon as the words spilled out of her mouth she knew she was in error. “I didn't mean to say . . .” she attempted to clean up her response to Starr's answer.
She had let her emotions get the best of her and that was out of character for her. She was one who had mastered keeping a poker face at all times. But it was apparent that she had not quite mastered the art when it came to how she felt about Starr. Ever since the morning Starr had received the phone call while at her house, Diamond believed she was moving and acting differently. Even the last time they had been together, Diamond felt her lover was being distant despite the fact that she lay right next to her. There was no doubt in her mind that something was wrong but, whatever the case, still it didn't excuse the fact that Starr was her boss and what she said and how she chose to deal with something was what it was.
Both Felicia and Bubbles stood frozen and wide-eyed. Neither of the two knew how it had gone from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds. They waited to see what Starr had to say.
The tension was thick enough to slice with a knife, as Starr sat there staring at Diamond as if she were a total stranger. It was as though everyone in the room was holding their breath until Starr spoke.
The longer Starr remained silent, the more Diamond had realized just how much she had crossed the line. “You gonna accept my apology?” She was conscious of the way in which she had asked. She knew how Starr was when it came to what and how a person talked to her. Her silence made Diamond feel uneasy. “Starrsh—”
“Apology accepted,” Starr chimed in. She cut Diamond off before she could call out her full name. Her tone was subtle but bland, but she no longer felt the way she just had moments ago. It had been a long and stressful day as well as week for her and prior to her lover getting up under her skin, she was all too ready to have a good time. She stood up and pushed her chair away from the oval table.
“Now let's go enjoy ourselves,” she advised with the same tone she had accepted Diamond's apology with as she led the way to the secret elevator. Diamond, Felicia, and Bubbles followed. Each one of them was all too ready to head downstairs and get their party on.
Diamond caught up to Starr just as they reached the elevator. She came up alongside of her. “I really am sorry,” Diamond whispered into her ear as she kissed Starr's outer lobe.
Starr turned her head in her direction. “I believe you.” She smiled and nodded as the number one on the elevator lit up and the sliding door opened. Then she stepped inside and waited for her crew to follow suit.
Chapter Thirty
Officer Blake had strolled into work whistling tunes from his favorite song. The day had started out normal as any other had, except for him parking next to Officer Douglass's car. Blake always showed up before him because he didn't have a family. His job was his life. He liked to stay on top of things and get firsthand knowledge before roll call. He thought nothing of it. He got out of his Pontiac Gran Turismo and retrieved his bags from his truck, walked past Douglass's Dodge Magnum, and walked up the steps of the parking lot back entrance. He took a second to embrace that feeling he loved to live for. It was usually so quiet outside of the Thirty-fourth Street precinct station.
But all you got inside was organized madness. Phones were ringing, jokes were being cracked, complaints were being made by the weirdest-looking people, food was being passed, criminals were being cuffed and transported from room to room and cell to cell. The bullpens were packed. The Feds were there.
The Feds? Are here? Why?
he wondered.
Officer Blake looked toward the back. The door of Chief Andrews's office was wide open. One of the agents just happened to turn and catch eye contact with Blake. He looked down at the photo clipped to the right side of the folder and then back at Blake. He whispered something to the other agents in the room. By the way they all turned and looked in his direction, Blake didn't have to be a genius to know that the agent had said something about him. Officer Blake paused in his tracks. He had a bad feeling. Something told him he should turn around and hightail it up out the precinct.
Why run and look guilty? They could be here for anything,
he reasoned with himself.
He happened to look down the hall and spot two agents escorting his longtime partner out of the interrogation room in handcuffs. Officer Douglass had his head down but somehow their eyes happen to meet. Officer Blake saw the guilt written all over his partner's face.
What the fuck did you do?
Officer Douglass just dropped his head back to the ground as the agents guided him by the armpits.
Fucking piece of shit Judas.
There was no doubt in his mind that his partner had sold him out.
Officer Blake shook his head in disgust then slowly backed up. He looked straight and then from side to side.
It's now or never.
Blake dropped his bag and ran back toward the entrance of the precinct. He could hear his name being shouted in the distance behind him as he fled. As he reached the door, his hands trembled so much that he was unable to get his key into the lock. The whole set dropped to the concrete. Blake panicked. “Fuck,” he cursed as he quickly kneeled to retrieve his keys from the ground. Luckily, he was successful at his second try. Just as he reached for the car door handle, two black GMC Suburbans skidded to a complete stop, blocking his car.
One of the SUVs managed to barricade Officer Blake between it and his vehicle as the other agents spilled out of the precinct backing up all bystanders. He didn't know what to do. A mixture of fear and anger overcame him.
I'm not going to fucking prison.
Blake did a quick scan of his surroundings. He knew he only had two options. He had already made his mind up that one of them was not an option at all. With that in mind, he drew his Glock .40 from his holster and opened fire into the SUV that had him pinned in. The agent driving the Suburban wasted no time putting the SUV in reverse.
The agents coming from the precinct ducked for cover. That was just enough time for Blake to take flight. He ran deep into the parking lot and began hiding behind cars. The other agents jumped out of the Suburbans with AR15s in hand and stood behind open doors. They swayed the fully automatic machine guns back and forth.
Officer Douglass couldn't believe the disaster. He was being pinned down to the ground with an agent over him, protecting him from getting shot.
Damn feds are robots.
Blake was ducking behind the trunk of a Toyota Camry. He was breathing heavily as he opened the rotating barrel of his weapon. He confirmed that he only had five remaining shots left in his clip and the rest of his ammunition was in the bag he had dropped. There was no escaping. The parking lot was fenced in. He was surrounded by agents also ducking behind cars using hand signals to move in closer on him. There was nothing left to do but pray. He did a Hail Mary across his chest, kissed his curled index finger, pointed up at the sky, and then popped up, pointing his pistol at the first and closest agent. They both locked eyes and fingered their trigger simultaneously.
A single bullet sailed straight into the left side of Agent Kelly's forehead, knocking her off her feet as her gunfire sprayed high up into the air. Two of her wild shots managed to lodge themselves into Officer Blake. One tore into the right side of his neck while another ripped into his cheek. The impact slammed him back on the Nissan Maxima behind him. He was somehow still alive and held on to his firearm tightly. “Son of a bitch!” he cried out. He could feel the blood leaking from both his face and neck.
This is not how it supposed to end,
he decided.
I'm not going to be somebody's bitch in prison.
With that being his final thought, Officer Blake raised his weapon, stuck the barrel in his mouth, and blew his own brains out the back of his head.
Agents rushed over to both bodies. Agent Snyder kicked the pistol away from Officer Blake's bloody corpse. Another agent retrieved it and put it in a bag. They both strolled over to agent Kelly's lifeless body.
Douglass heard the panicking news of both deaths come over the agent who was guarding his radio. The agent who had him in custody shot him a look of disgust before he launched his attack. It came out of nowhere. Douglass was out cold before he even realized what had hit him. The smelling salts placed under his nose revived him. He woke up with his wrists cuffed to the Suburban's inside ceiling.
It took minutes for the words he was hearing to register. It would take hours for them to be verified as the truth. Agent McCarthy hadn't ever heard Chief Andrews's voice be anything other than smooth, calm, and under control. But what he just heard from him was tears as he tried to explain what happened without even knowing what went wrong. He heard the regret Chief Andrews felt in his tone through the phone. He listened as the chief beat himself up for not handling his problem in house, until it worked its way up to federal status.
The news about them taking McCarthy off the case was also an issue for him. It didn't sit too well. He had been personally dealing with Agent McCarthy for several years. The two knew where each other stood at all times. Had he known Agent McCarthy would be removed from the case he would have never handed over Officers Douglass and Blake; he was sure of that. He was now feeling that the whole investigation could blow back in his face. But it was too late. Just as he finished making a personal copy of the taped confession, he saw a group of men dressed in black suits and ties headed in the direction of his office. “I gotta call you back,” Chief Andrews informed McCarthy before abruptly hanging up.
Agent McCarthy hung up knowing their relationship could never be the same. He was so furious at Mobley for pulling him off the case. He felt there was no way he would have allowed such a massacre to happen. His approval would've been much different, more subtle. He knew exactly what Reddick had done. Trying to solidify himself as the new agent in charge, he stormed into the precinct spreading orders around without any plan or strategy.
McCarthy flopped back down into his chair and buried his face into his hands with his elbows pointed high up into the air. His own eyes began to water as he thought of Agent Jody Kelly. She was with the Bureau for a little over six years. She was tough, always trying to prove that she could hang with the rest of the big boys. Agent McCarthy shook his head at yet another fallen agent on his side of the team. It was evident the Double Gs were not playing fair and had no remorse or regard for his colleagues' lives. He knew he had to do something before many more lost their lives.
Agent Mobley was in his eleventh-floor office when he got the news of the unfortunate tragedy. Instant anger set in, but he had to stick with his decision. Agent Reddick wasn't to blame. But one thing for sure, somebody had to pay, and it had to start with the root of it all. There was only one fall guy remaining in the picture and they had him in custody.
How did this go so wrong?
Douglass cried to himself in disbelief. He realized he had just committed suicide in a much different way from his partner. He had caused all of this for nothing, he told himself for the umpteenth time as the chain of events unraveled right before his very eyes. He was left to take the weight for it all; everything he had confessed to was now stuck to him. He was no longer the snitch. Instead of immunity, he was sure he would get the death penalty and spend his time waiting for execution boxed in an underground cell in an ADX maximum federal prison facility and his outside contact would be restricted.
He looked around the frigid room. There was nothing. No windows; just four walls, a concrete bed, and no sheets or blanket. To top it off, the cell was freezing cold and, because he was on suicide watch, he was dressed in only a paper suit. He hadn't even been transported from the federal building yet. No one said a word to him. Although he had been spit on, called every derogatory word known to mankind, and badly beaten while he was in the bullpen, he knew the worst was yet to come.

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