RedBone 2 (9 page)

The girl and Audio looked at them. Audio raised a finger and replied, “Give me a second.”

“Your time is up, nigga. Leave that bitch alone and come now,” Killa yelled. The girl frowned and placed a fist on her hip.

“Y’all good?” Willie asked, although he wanted to offer his opinion on Audio’s recklessness. He thought it was unprofessional and dangerous that he would hang in the shadows when they had beef. He decided against it, knowing it would be bad for business.

“Yeah, we fine.” Slade gave him some dap. “We’ll get up with you later.”

“A’ight, be easy.” Willie and his crew climbed into his Navigator and left the scene.

Slade refocused his attention on Audio, who was now wobbling toward his brothers. He shook his head, although he understood why he was in a bad way since Chloe was killed. “Go help him, Killa,” Slade said in disgust. “Before this nigga falls on his face.”

Killa and Major offered their shoulders for support as they walked him toward the truck. They were almost there when, through Slade’s peripheral vision, he could see a car pulling up slowly. When he turned around, he witnessed a black Dodge Caravan slither up the block. When the tinted windows rolled down, three weapons were aimed in their direction. Bullets with their names on them spit from the guns, and Slade saw a glimpse of Lollipop’s face as he led the gunfire. He knew something was off with that nigga the moment he saw his face, and he let him slide. Now his brothers might have to pay with their lives.

The Baker Boys dropped to the ground, and Slade released the .45 tucked in his waist. When he looked toward his brothers to see if they were okay, he saw Killa had already released his hammer and was firing so many bullets at the assassin that the windows were completely destroyed. Together, Slade, Killa, and Major lit the car up like a California wildfire. Holes splattered into the interior of the car as it flew away from the scene.

When they were gone Slade ran up to his brothers and checked them over. “Y’all okay? Anybody hit?”

“Naw, we good,” Killa responded, looking at Major, who was too stuck to respond. “I wonder who the fuck that was.” He looked down the street.

“I know who it is,” Slade responded, deciding to keep Lollipop’s identity to himself for the moment. “And when we catch this nigga, he’s gonna wish he landed.” He focused on Audio, who, although still drunk, was a little more lucid. “If you don’t get this drunk shit under control, you on the first thing back to Mississippi, nigga.” He stabbed his finger into Audio’s chest. “I’m not fucking around with you no more! You ain’t the only one who lost somebody. Get over yourself.”

“I’m sorry, man,” he said, rubbing his hand over his face. “I know you’re right.”

“Looks like they landed anyway!” Major said, looking up the street.

When Slade saw the girl Audio was with lying in her own blood, he shook his head. “Damn!”

 

 

Slade slammed Markee’s apartment door shut and stomped inside, angry that he hadn’t found Eleanor. If he wasn’t chasing Audio to make sure he didn’t kill himself, he was searching for her. Nobody had seen her on the streets or in the dope houses. Slade even blessed a few dope boys with some money to let him know if she showed up. . . . Nothing.

He threw his coat on the couch and walked to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. When he turned around, he saw his mother, Major, Killa, Audio, and two people he hadn’t seen since he’d left Mississippi: his cousins Judge and Grant. He was so focused on Eleanor when he first entered that he didn’t see anybody in the apartment.

When he saw the looks on his family’s faces, he asked, “What’s going on?” He focused back on his cousins Judge and Grant. “And what are they doing here, Ma? I thought we agreed that you would at least give me a chance to bring things under control first. We don’t need outside help.”

“First off, we’re not outside help,” Judge said, approaching him from the kitchen. “We’re family, and I think we’re getting off to a wrong start.” He grinned. “Slade, I haven’t seen you in months, man. The least you can do is give me some love.” He opened his arms, but Slade didn’t accept.

Judge and Grant Baker were both certified killers, and they were anything but practical. When people called them to eliminate a problem, the research should have already been done, which meant they were there for the bottom line, to dispose of the problem.

Judge stood six foot five and he was all meat. Although Slade could kill a man with his bare hands, just looking at Judge would force an opponent to change his mind. He was as chocolate as Slade and the rest of the Bakers, but as ugly as a rhino, and he couldn’t give a fuck about what you thought about his appearance. He had a beautiful wife whom he adored and kept at an undisclosed location. At the end of each job, he returned to her, and they carried on as if blood was not shed. As long as he had her, everything and everybody else was trivial.

Grant, on the other hand, stood five foot five, and although he was the shorter of the two, he was the one you had to worry about. He made the decisions and Judge enforced them. Grant always wore a stiff smile on his face to hide his sinister intentions, and the fact that he loved killing was undisputed. So it was obvious why Slade was worried about seeing them. If they were in town, it meant one thing: Farah was going to die.

“Ma, can you tell me why you call Judge and Grant?” Slade asked. “You know we were handling the situation. I told you that when you first told me you were reaching out to them!”

“I want to tell you why I made a decision to call them, baby, but first, were you able to find Eleanor?” Della stood in the middle of the floor and balanced herself on her cane. When he didn’t answer she continued, “Were you able to find her or not, son?”

He stepped closer to his mother. In a low voice he said, “Ma, why you doing this? I’m so close to finding her, and I told you all I needed was a little time. Not to mention the entire Baker family is already in the building. We didn’t need them.”

“Close to finding her and finding her are two different things. Aren’t they, son?”

Slade threw his weight into the sofa, placed his hand over his face, and eyed Judge and Grant. They were there to murder somebody he loved, without even considering that she may not be involved. This was the last thing he needed at the moment. It wasn’t that he didn’t fuck with his cousins, because he loved them. The problem came in choosing between the Baker name and Farah Cotton.

“What happened today?” Della asked. “When you went to search for her?”

“I went by her place, but she don’t live there no more.” He wiped his hands over his face again and dropped them into his lap.

“How you know she moved?” Della asked, sitting next to him.

“I paid the property manager a few bucks to let me inside her place. Everything she owns is gone, except for some things she had in the refrigerator.” He exhaled. “No way she still lives there.”

“I’m wondering why she would move,” she continued.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “But the more this chick hides, the more I believe Farah. She’s hiding something.”

“What you talking about?” Killa asked. “Markee was the last person to see Knox, and he said she was good people. As a matter of fact, he threatened to hit him if he disrespected her.”

“I know all that, but if she didn’t have nothing do with Knox’s disappearance, why leave? The dope boys said they haven’t even seen her in days. I know she not clean, so where she copping from? She’s a certified dopehead and can’t go too long without a hit. And when she tries to find one, I’ll be there waiting.”

“What about Willie?” Killa asked. “He used to be cool with her. If I’m not mistaken, she used to sell weed for him. Does he know anything?”

“I talked to him about her the other day,” Della said. “Even he hasn’t been able to find her.”

“Okay, so where else could she be then?” Grant asked. His voice was calm, but his body was tense.

“We have no clue,” Major responded.

“Well, let me and Judge try a hand at it, man. You’ve done a lot, and we don’t want you thinking you’re alone in this shit.” He stepped closer. “All we need to know is if she has any family in the area, who was the last person who saw her, and stuff like that. Since she’s dodging you, maybe she’s more likely to talk to us instead.”

“She doesn’t know anything more than she’s said already,” Slade responded. “Trust me.” He looked at Judge and Grant. “Let me handle this. Besides, Knox is my brother.”

Irritated, Grant stepped back. “Let you handle it like you handled protecting Audio? Because, from what I understand, he almost got killed the other night fucking with you.” He paused. “Oh, I get it. Maybe you want to handle it like you protected Knox. To make matters worse, nobody has seen or heard from Markee. I don’t know, man, but something tells me that the way you doing things ain’t working no more.”

“We didn’t come all the way out here to be fucking around,” Judge muttered. He was so tall that his voice bounced off the ceiling.

“He’s right,” Grant added. “We came to find Knox, and if you want to find your brother like you say you do, then you should appreciate our help.”

Grant didn’t have a chance to defend himself. By the time his last syllable was uttered, he was slumped to the floor and looking up at the ceiling. Judge was about to approach when Killa, Major, and Audio stopped his movements by blocking him like a wall. Slade stood over Grant and gave him his undivided attention.

“Nigga, I don’t give a fuck if we blood or not. Don’t ever tell me I’m not doing what I can to protect my brothers,” Slade said. “You better watch your mouth before I break your jaw and you won’t be able to use it to pop that shit no more.”

“Slade, what has gotten into you lately?” Della asked, witnessing her son lose it all.

“Ma, I don’t have time for this shit.”

She smacked him so hard his neck twisted. “I think you need a reminder on who the fuck I am. Don’t let this cane fool you.” Della tossed it across the room. “It only lengthens my reach, not limits it. At the end of the day, I’m your mothafucking mother!”

Slade felt awful for talking to his mother so recklessly, and he made plans to apologize every day when it was all said and done. “I’m sorry, Ma. I really am. I didn’t mean to come at you like that,” he said under his breath. “I just wanted you to—”

“Slade, you been in DC too long, son. Too long. And you’re making clouded decisions. It’s becoming clearer that the girl is a bad influence after all.”

Judge helped Grant off the floor, and Grant rubbed his bloody mouth and said, “Della, don’t worry about it. That was on me. Slade is deep into this shit, and I came out of the mouth wrong.” He looked at his cousin. “I’m sorry about the Knox and Audio comment, man, but it ain’t like you don’t know who we are and what we came to do. We did cleanup work for y’all on things we taking to our graves.”

Slade frowned. “So why you bringing it up now?”

“Because I think you need a reminder.” He wiped his mouth. “Look, I promise we won’t hurt your girl. I just want her to answer some questions for us, and after that, we out. Cool?”

“I won’t have her hurt.” Slade looked at all of them. “I need you all to know this.”

“Even if she’s responsible for Knox’s disappearance?” Grant asked.

“On my life, if she had anything to do with his disappearance, I will kill her myself.”

“We on the same page, then,” Grant said. “But we still need to talk to her.”

As much as Slade hated to admit it, he knew they weren’t going anywhere without talking to Farah. “I’ll let you talk to Farah. Just let me speak to her first.”

Della shook her head. Seeing her son this weak for the girl made her stomach churn. “Slade, they came all the way up from—”

“Don’t worry about it, Della,” Grant said softly. “I’ll give him that time. After all, from what I’ve been told, he really cares about the girl.” He focused on Slade. “Just as long as you know I’m not going anywhere until I speak with her. Can we agree on that?”

“I guess I don’t have a choice.” This shit was making Slade’s head ache. “Where are y’all staying anyway?”

“We got an apartment here in Platinum Lofts.”

Slade saw blue.

“You ain’t know? It’s a takeover until we can find Knox, man. Shit is beyond serious now. It’s deadly.”

 

 

Although Grant agreed not to speak to Farah before Slade, he didn’t say anything about not questioning other people in the building. After some research, they discovered that Vivian James, the property manager, was missing her son. It was just a hunch, but if Grant learned anything in his many years in the disposal business, it was that hunches paid off. They decided to pay her a visit.

From the outside of the door, they could hear Vivian speaking to someone inside. For a minute they remained silent, trying to hear anything useful. After a while, they knocked on the door, and Vivian opened it with a smile on her face. “Hello there.” She looked at both of them. In her opinion they had the kindest eyes. “Are you boys okay? I mean, the apartment is fine, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Grant grinned. “Everything is perfect. We were actually hoping we could talk to you about something private.”

She opened the door wider. “Sure. Come on inside.”

Once they entered, the first thing Grant noticed was three very attractive women sitting on the sofa. They were talking among themselves and didn’t seem to know that they were even inside the apartment. Then he saw the pictures of a chubby kid all over the walls, and it was evident that whoever he was, Vivian loved him very much. “I didn’t know you had company.” He nodded toward the living room. “If this is a bad time, we could come back later.”

She waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. They were actually just about to leave.”

“No need,” Grant said softly. “If we can step to the side for a minute, this will be quick.”

“Sure,” she said softly as they moved closer to the kitchen. As always, Judge stood behind his brother and remained silent. “What can I do for you boys?”

“Well, ma’am,” Grant continued, “we were wondering if you could tell us anything about Farah Cotton.”

Her face went gray and the pleasantries were over. “Uh . . . why are you asking?”

“Because someone very dear to us is missing. Actually, he’s been missing for a while now, and we believe that she may have had something to do with it. Of course we can’t prove it, and it’s just a guess right now, but we have to start somewhere. Can you tell us anything useful about her?”

She sighed and appeared saddened. “Actually, I can do better than that.” She turned to the sofa. “Girls, come over here for a second.”

The three women strolled toward them, although hesitant. Judge’s huge presence usually left a nervous impression on the people he encountered.

“This is Lady and Courtney,” she said, pointing to two women in tight jeans. “And this is a young lady you’ll definitely want to talk to.”

She resembled Farah Cotton so much in the pictures that he saw, that for a second, Grant grew offensive.

“Her name is Lesa Carmine, and she was Farah’s old roommate.”

Grant looked at Judge and they both grinned. This was the big break they were waiting for. “What can you tell us about Farah Cotton?”

Lesa was nervous and looked at Vivian.

“It’s okay, honey,” Vivian said as she rubbed her shoulder gently. “Tell them what they want to know. It’s for the best.”

She looked at Judge and then Grant. “I can tell you a lot. For starters, you need to know that she considers herself . . . well . . . she considers herself to be a vampire.”