Forever a Hustler's Wife (8 page)

CHAPTER 8

The Toy Store

J
aguars, Bentleys, and Lamborghinis were just a few of the many luxurious, over-the-top automobiles that filled the five-acre lot of Des’s dealership, hot like the females at a G-Unit video shoot. “Des’s Grown-Man Toy Store” was the place to come if a person was making money, legal or illegal, and he wanted to make a statement by driving one of the hottest vehicles ever manufactured. A person could spend two hundred thousand on a new whip and then, easily, another hundred thou just tricking it out to one’s own specifications. If Des didn’t already have the vehicle on the premises, then he would special order it and have it flown in within less than seventy-two hours.

“Hey, Paulie. This is Des in Richmond.” He paced the floor with the phone receiver to his ear.

“How could I not recognize your voice?” Paulie smiled on the other end of the phone. “You’re just one of my favorite customers.”

“I’m glad you still feel that way because I thought I was going to have to begin looking for somewhere else to shop for my Ferraris. My man, I ordered those three flavors over a week ago.” Des gazed out a window that overlooked his fleet of cars.

“I apologize, Des. I’ve just been a little backed up,” Paulie confessed. “I had to fire my regular shipping man, and the new one just doesn’t quite get the hang of things yet. I got your order right here, ready to go out. Three Ferraris: red, black, and platinum silver. They’ll be on your lot in seventy-two hours.”

“I can’t ask for any more than that,” Des agreed. “Tell the wife and kids that I said hello.” Des hung up the phone without waiting for a reply.

It was 12:15
P.M.,
and the sun was at full blast when Nasir pulled into his uncle’s place of business. It had been two months since Des had turned Nasir on to the heroin connect, and things were certainly looking up. He’d bought a new car, compliments of the toy store, and money was pouring in like Kool-Aid on a hot summer day in the projects. Lava was driving the Range Rover while Nasir rode shotgun returning calls.

“Pull around the side, boo,” he instructed Lava, motioning with his hand. “We don’t need anyone spotting the whip and running into Uncle Des’s shop looking for work.”

Des heard the water in the puddle on the side of the building make a splash, followed by tires on the pavement outside the side door to his office. His first instinct was to grab his gun—well, Sister Khadija’s gun. She kept her registered gun around the shop for Des to use in case something hopped off. Once he checked the surveillance camera, he saw the Range and knew it was his nephew. He released the locks and went to greet Nasir at the door. He saw Lava sitting behind the wheel and said, “If I was hiring for a getaway-car driver, you would definitely have the job.”

“Keep me in mind when you need one.” She smiled, but Des knew she was dead serious.

Des chuckled at Lava, and asked Nasir, “She coming in?”

“Naw, she good.”

They went back through the showroom, past a pair of shiny white Lamborghinis and a customized black Maserati, to Des’s office in the back. A large mahogany desk occupied one half of the room. In the other half, a large French mirror hung on the wall over a light tan plush leather sofa. Two oversize leather chairs framed the sofa, and a gorgeous teak coffee table stood between the two in front of the sofa. Yarni, with her exquisite taste, had decorated the room so that it was luxurious yet comfortable. An original Romare Bearden woodcut hung over the desk.

Des and Nasir sat down.

“Look, nephew, I ain’t trying to chastise you, but you know how I feel about mixing women with business. I don’t think she should be with you as much as she is.”

“Unc, trust me. Lava is just as good as any nigga I got on my team.”

“What she do?”

“She watch my back.”

“Oh, really?”

“That’s right. Just yesterday I went to serve somebody, and I took too long to come out of the house. I decided to take a shit and left my phone on the table, and when I finally walked out the house, she was on the side of it, Desert Eagle cocked, ’bout to come in there blazing.” Nasir’s phone rang, and he put it on vibrate and placed it on the coffee table as he spoke to his uncle.

“That’s all fine and dandy, but she should be at home or out with her friends or finding a hobby or something.”

“She don’t have no friends. I’m her best friend, and I’m her hobby. Besides, I need her.”

“Nephew, we ain’t never been in the business of needing women. Why do you feel you ‘need’ her?”

“Because business is good. A lot of people trying to get down. Niggas is getting fat bellies and pockets because they eating good—real good. My prices are cheaper than any other nigga in this state.” Des noticed his nephew was gloating and proud of his trade.

“Okay, but why you need yo’ girl with you?”

“Because she’ll die for me.”

“Don’t be certain of that, Nasir.”

“Have I ever lied to you, Uncle Des?”

Des could see his nephew really believed the words he spoke, so he didn’t go back and forth with him about Lava. He knew better.

“Unc, I came here for two things,” Nasir said, leaning forward in his seat, excitement evident in his voice.

“What?”

“Advice and a new whip.” Nasir’s phone vibrated again, and again, he hit the button to silence it.

“A’ight, I can handle both of them. Give me the automobile info first.”

“I want the Lexus drop, pearl white with the cream leather seats.”

“I ain’t feeling that fo’ you.”

“It ain’t for me. It’s for Lava.”

Des glanced out the window at Lava, who was putting on lip gloss, using the rearview mirror. “Is that what she wants?”

“No, that’s what I want her to have. Let her tell it, she don’t want no car.”

Des was surprised. “She don’t want a whip? I never ran across a woman who didn’t want a car.”

“That’s because you never met a chick like Lava before. She’d rather ride and drive my shit than have her own. She feels like since we together all the time, ain’t no need in wasting money.” Nasir’s phone vibrated again, and once again he silenced it.

Des smiled. “A woman after my own heart.”

“I want to bless her with something fly.”

“What about a red one? I got a red one.”

Nasir shook his head. “Nope, it gotta be pearl white.”

“Why pearl white?”

“To match the pearl white handle on her Desert Eagle.”

Des nodded his approval. “I’ll put some calls in and have an estimated delivery date for you tonight.” Knowing his nephew was in love, he said, “Now don’t tell me you want advice on marriage.”

“Unc, I’m already married, so I don’t need that.”

Des couldn’t fuss. He knew how he was about Yarni when they first met, although he had been a little bit older than Nasir was.

“I need you to tell me how to handle this motherfucker Felix.”

“Felix?” Des hadn’t seen Felix once since the monumental day when he had been sentenced to sixty years in prison for a murder that Felix had committed, and he was surprised that Rico had Nasir dealing with his nephew. “What seems to be the problem with Felix?”

Nasir stared his uncle in the face. “Straight up? I know he’s suppose to be family, but I don’t trust him. He’s greasy.”

“Why? What makes you say that?” Des asked, half surprised at what his nephew was saying.

“My gut says it. The first few times Rico hit me off himself, but then he met me one day telling me he’s going to let his nephew hit me off.” The hot box vibrated again.

“What’s wrong with that?”

Nasir looked at the number. “Look, I gotta meet the dude tomorrow night. I want you to come and see what type of vibe you get from him. I got somebody waiting on me.” Nasir’s phone continued to blow up. “Duty calls, but I’ma hit you tomorrow when I’m ready to go handle that B-I.”

“Business good, huh?” Des smiled at his nephew.

“Real good,” he said as he headed for the door. Des watched as Nasir let himself out.

CHAPTER 9

Living with bin Laden

D
es looked at his watch. It was almost time for Yarni to pick him up for their meeting with Harowitz. He was slightly anxious about seeing his attorney, wondering what kind of evidence they could possibly have on him.

Yarni arrived just as he was finishing up a call to check on the Lexus for Nasir.

“Hey, baby,” she said, greeting him with a kiss. “You ready?”

“Yup,” he said, grabbing his cell phone.

They rode to the attorney’s office in silence, lost in their own thoughts.

As they were riding up in the elevator, Yarni turned to him. “Boo, I’m serious. If you don’t want me to sit in on the meeting, it’s okay.”

Des looked at her and shook his head. “Like I said, I have nothing to hide. Don’t you trust me?” he asked.

Yarni nodded, and the elevator doors opened. They looked at each other and both took a deep breath before walking through the double glass doors. A receptionist told them that Harowitz was expecting them. Yarni’s hand was wrapped around Des’s arm as they walked into the spacious corner office, then closed the door behind them.

A Persian rug covered the floor. Large glass windows showed the cloudy skyline. Harowitz was bent over an open file on his cluttered desk when they walked in and didn’t seem to hear them. When Yarni cleared her throat, he looked up, startled. His eyes were red and tired-looking behind his thick glasses. His burgundy silk bow tie was untied. He stood up, walked around his desk, and shook Des’s and Yarni’s hands.

“Please have a seat,” he said, inviting them to sit in the comfortable chairs on the other side of the desk. As he sat down in his chair, he took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and said, “Desmond, I have to be honest with you. The evidence is not looking good for you right now.”

Des didn’t respond, but Yarni cut straight to the chase. “What’s in the discovery?”

“Well, for starters, you have this.” He handed Yarni a letter that Des had written to Richards two weeks after being convicted.

“They can’t be serious,” she said, shaking her head. “This is typical of what any man who has been railroaded by his attorney for a crime he didn’t commit would send.” She looked at Harowitz and asked, “You’ve never gotten one of these before?”

“I have.” He nodded. “You know I have, but it gets even more complicated.”

“What is it?” Yarni asked while Des sat in total silence, taking in the entire conversation between his lawyer and his wife.

“There was an appointment with Des in Richards’s appointment book for the same day he was murdered, and Des never showed up.”

“That’s because I never made an appointment with him. Why would I?” Des broke his silence.

“We know this, but the kicker is that Richards got called away on an emergency, and you got gas a few miles from the scene of the crime.”

Des could tell by the tone of Harowitz’s voice that he was doomed. “Look, this shit may not look good, but I didn’t kill that motherfucker. That’s real talk.”

“We know, baby.” Yarni put her hand on Des’s shoulder to console him. “We’re going to beat this,” she said, shooting a look at Harowitz.

“We’re going to do everything in our power to make sure you walk,” Harowitz said.

Des leaned forward and asked, “Look, you do know this is some bullshit, right?”

“Yes,” Harowitz agreed.

Des stood and looked back and forth between Yarni and Harowitz. “If we can’t get this resolved, I’m bouncing. I’ll live in Afghanistan with bin Laden before I go back to the penitentiary for something that I didn’t do. I’ll do a hundred years for something I did do, but for some shit I didn’t do…it’s not happening.”

Des headed for the door before turning back to Harowitz. “You need to work this shit out. Do what you’re known for doing—find a loophole, or find the motherfucker who did it. For all that gotdamn money I’m paying you, you need to put on your suit and play Matlock.”

Yarni followed her husband as Des opened up the door to let himself out.

“Oh, and we ain’t cutting no deals, pleading out, or any of that shit, so don’t even think about it.”

“I’ll be in touch, Mark. Thanks for everything,” Yarni said hurriedly as she and Des exited the office.

In the elevator, Des didn’t utter a word; Yarni knew he was steaming mad, and rightfully so. As soon as they stepped out of the elevator, her cell phone rang. It was Harowitz. He gave her the rest of the info on the discovery.

When they approached the car, Des stood by the door waiting to hear the chirp of the alarm, but Yarni didn’t unlock the doors. Instead, she walked around to the driver’s side where Des was. “Listen, baby, we need to talk.”

“We can talk in the car,” he said drily.

“No, we can’t,” she firmly said.

“Why is that?” Des asked.

“Because I don’t know if it’s tapped. It’s apparent someone is trying to set you up.”

“No shit.”

“No, baby, I’m serious.”

He looked at her as she took a deep breath and continued.

“Listen,” she began, “I need you to tell me everything. From start to finish. Someone is out to get you. I don’t know who, what, or why, but you and I gon’ get to the bottom of this. I promise.”

Des didn’t have much to say, so Yarni tried her damnedest to lighten the load. “You know I don’t make promises to break them. We can and will beat this case, but I need you to tell me everything that happened from the time you left me and Desi in the hospital.”

Des looked at Yarni. “Baby, I told you I didn’t do it. I wasn’t thinking about that clown.”

“I know you weren’t, but in order for me to get you off, I need to know everything.” She went on. “Baby, I need you to bend one of your rules.”

He looked at Yarni. “What might that be?”

“Never confess to anything.”

He laughed and shook his head. “I take the fifth.”

“Seriously, you’ve got to tell me everything. You gotta trust me. I’d die before I’d ever betray you.”

“What did Harowitz say?”

“He said that…” She took another deep breath. “You ain’t gon’ believe this shit.”

“Try me.”

“He said that they have a witness who said a black man wearing a mask shot Richards in the head. The witness saw the man take off the mask and identified that man as you.”

“What will they come up with next? They gonna pin the Kennedy assassination on me, too?” Des looked into a passing car that was driving by slowly in the parking lot.

“The witness described you to a sketch artist.”

“These motherfuckers are really trying to railroad me.” If Des’s words were not convincing enough, his expression could have persuaded the jury.

“You got that right, but baby,” Yarni said, leaning in, “you know wifey ain’t gon’ let that happen.”

“If I can’t clear this up, you know what I have to do, right?”

“I know, baby, but that ain’t gon’ be necessary. We gon’ have to spend a lot of money and pull from all our resources, that’s all; and I’m going to start off by hiring a private investigator. We’re going to find out what else Richards was into besides selling his clients out. Who would want him dead, and who would want you off the streets?”

“That’s why you my baby.” Des sighed and kissed his wife on the forehead. “Now, can you unlock the door so I can get in the car?”