Chapter Thirty-one
The following Friday evening, Bubbles was in the back of the stretch Escalade sitting next to Starr. They were being chauffeured to Club Panties, while Starr discussed the latest chain of events with Diamond, who was stuck at the office. By special request of Starr, Felicia was in the second Escalade riding with Monica and the twins, who were all surprised to be invited to make the grand entrance. And as usual they were surrounded by the Double G bikes.
“You knew somehow this was all going to fall back on us. Things are getting too hectic,” Starr spoke into the phone receiving the news of what had happened to Agent Kelly. “Three agents are dead in the same week.”
“But that had nothing to do with us,” Diamond rationalized.
“In the end, it does. If Douglass was going to roll over on Blake, he had to throw in information on us to sweeten the deal!”
“Yeah, but all he could admit is what they did. As usual nothing physically traces back to us. That's how it's always been. So they had nothing. Maybe things will lighten up with that McCarthy guy off the case.”
“Guys like him don't just lie down. He's a tough agent, Diamond. He's even more dangerous to us now because he doesn't have a leash. It's time to clean up. Tomorrow we start clipping all loose ends. All of them.” The tone in her command was unmistakable.
“What do you suggest?”
“I'll fill you in tomorrow. I'm putting in the call tonight. It's time for a few members to pay some dues. I'm using one of them for a specific task. It's time to start weeding out the garden. I have another message that needs to be sent. This Douglass guy caused us some real unnecessary problems. Officer Blake was a good asset. Douglass needs to pay.”
“I'm sure you'll come up with something nice for him,” Diamond whispered in a devilish tone.
“Actually, even worse. I'm leaving it up to Queen.”
“Uh-oh, he's in trouble.”
“Not just him, my dear, not just him.”
“I have to go. US Attorney Linda McCarthy is back.”
Both women disconnected the call. Starr turned her attention back to Bubbles. “Soon as we get into the club, escort Monica to my office. And I don't want to be disturbed.”
Bubbles nodded. She was not clear on the mission, but she believed there was one.
Why else would she want Monica?
Bubbles thought as her instructions were given to her. As far as she was concerned it involved somebody getting their hands dirty.
Chapter Thirty-two
It had been a very long day for Agent McCarthy. He walked into his home feeling defeated. As soon as he cleared the door and was in the foyer, he removed his blazer, untied his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt, walking across the polished wooden floor until he entered the living room and into the kitchen where he could see his lovely wife Linda, circling the kitchen. She hadn't heard him come in. He slowly crept up on her.
“Hey, honey,” she called out when she felt his presence before he could reach her.
He walked up on her and pecked her on the cheek. “Where's Charley?” he asked, referring to their nine-year-old daughter, Charlene.
“She's upstairs washing up for dinner. I told the sitter I'd feed her. She wasn't feeling too well. Ugh, I'm back,” she continued. “I just got in not even fifteen minutes ago. I had a long day at the office. There's a major trial coming up. You know that Spalding guy, the one who knocked off like ten banks? Okay, yeah, them,” she answered before he could confirm his recollection. “So anyway, as if unbelievably making bail wasn't good enough for them, they're actually taking this to trial. My guess is it's an attempt to make the government spend hard-earned taxpayers' money, or confiscated drug money,” she continued, which was completely ignored as she rambled while multitasking with the dishes and prepping for dinner. “We'll have them dead tonight. The only thing that scares me is their lawyer. This Morgan. Diamond Morgan. She's undefeated and so was I until I met her. She gets me every time.”
The name Diamond Morgan stood out to him. He was trying to place where he had heard it from. “Diamond Morgan?” McCarthy let the name dance around in his head. Then it dawned on him. “That's the hotshot attorney who came prancing her way through the office,” he remembered. “And she mentioned you, too. The way she mentioned you all makes sense now.” He drew a conclusion.
“What all makes sense?” A confused look appeared on Linda McCarthy's face.
“How you two would know each other and the fact that she knew I was your husband,” he replied.
“Yes, we're very familiar with each other.” Linda McCarthy scowled. “You know her too,” she added. “Or at least you should, anyway,” she believed.
“How so?” Now it was McCarthy who had a confused look on his face.
“I talk about her all the time, but you never listen, do you? No, you just let me ramble while you rub my hair and then, you know, we switch subjects,” she stated with a flirtatious smirk, looking sexy as ever.
“I've been meaning to ask you about her. She's the one that got Pearson out of my custody. Is she really that good?” He both wanted and needed to know. He was hopeful that the rumor was a joke. If anybody knew about the attorney, it would be his wife. Like himself, Linda McCarthy made it her business to stay abreast on any-and everything in her profession. If Diamond Morgan was as good as he had recently heard, there was no way his wife would not be familiar with her competitor. After all, she too was known as a shark in the courtrooms.
“Honey, I'm on the government's side. I'm the top attorney for the prosecutor's office. Hell, it's like we make the rules. At least dictate 'em. But she beats me every time we go up against each other, one of a kind. She's definitely the best I've seen in a long time. Don't get me wrong, she knows her stuff, but everything else happens in her favor. Between witnesses not appearing in court and missing evidence, some of the cases we've beat ourselves.” Linda McCarthy shook her head submissively.
“Linda, I believe she's one of them.”
“One of them? Like who is them?”
“One of the goddamn Double Gs,” McCarthy boomed.
“The gay bike group you've been obsessing over and telling me about?” his wife questioned. A puzzled look took over her face. She was curious to know how her husband had drawn such a conclusion.
“Yeah, the dykes!” he exclaimed.
“Honey, don't be silly. And please don't talk like that. It makes you sound like you're homophobic,” Linda McCarthy defended. “You remember the last time the guy tried to file prejudice and defamation of character charges against you for that statement you made that was taken out of context?” she reminded him.
“Really, Linda? Homophobic?” Agent McCarthy was agitated. “And you know that complaint was bullshit.” He couldn't believe she had gone there. “Okay, excuse the fuck out of me, but explain me this,” McCarthy began to ramble. “How the hell did she find out and get to us so quick? And, she was determined to keep Pearson's mouth shut,” he pointed out.
“Tom, relax,” she dismissed his words. “But if you really would like to know, that's what lawyers do. It's what they get paid for.” She poked a hole in her husband's theory.
McCarthy shook his head. “That's the thing,” he began. “Pearson doesn't have anywhere near that kind of money for such a high-profile lawyer like you just described.” He continued to shake his head in disbelief. “It just doesn't add up. I've been through her financial records and everything, Lin.” He thought about it. “You ever see or hear of this Morgan gal having any affiliation with a gang? Hell, do you know whether she has a boyfriend?” He wanted to know whatever his wife knew about the woman who put a damper on his investigation and had gotten him removed from it.
Linda thought for a second. “Nothing much, other than the usual and normal comparisons to me as being someone to be reckoned with in those courtrooms.” She told him all of what she knew about Diamond Morgan. “She's pretty private. Most of 'em are. I'm the only one with a hotshot agent. They think I get all the action,” she joked.
Any other time, he would've laughed at his wife's dry humor, but he stayed serious. “Yeah, well, she's been linked to that club of theirs and she's not even hiding it.”
“Wow! Well hopefully y'all take 'em down soon, so I can start being the most feared prosecutor again. Right now, it's her time.”
“I'm working on it,” he declared. He was tempted to let her know that he was thrown off the case due to Diamond's work but didn't feel like getting into it.
“When's the funeral?” Linda asked. She seasoned the fish fillet strips she was about to bake.
“Oh! That reminds me. I need you to go with me tomorrow. The Bureau is paying for all three of the burials, so they kind of rushed Agent Kelly's burial process. She didn't need one. The family agreed. It saved everyone money. The Bureau has so much money and they don't spend a damn dime that they don't have to, not even for their own. They're dead, for Christ's sake!”
“Honey, you're talking about the same branch of government that formed the CIA.”
“Yeah, and with the same corruption,” Agent McCarthy stated under his breath.
The thought made him wonder. There were things during his investigation that McCarthy just couldn't explain. It was the first time he had actually noticed that the closer he got to gaining more information on the Double Gs the more the evidence continued to slip right between his fingers. It seemed as if they stayed one to three steps ahead of him. Despite being snatched off the case and claiming to not care anymore, McCarthy had a strong urge to find out just how connected his targets really were.
Chapter Thirty-three
Starr and the rest of the Double Gs sat in the luxurious comfort of the upper deck VIP lounge, sipping drinks and making light conversation as four exotic female strippers danced and performed sexual acts in front of them. The dancers fondled and kissed each other while some of the Double G members showered them with money. Some of the others groped their breasts and asses while they shoved bills into the dancers' tops and G-strings. Starr sat between Felicia and Monica. Her hand was rested on Monica's left thigh the entire time. The three of them were clearly tipsy and Starr was turned on, ready to play. Without Diamond around, she was lonely. Although she and Diamond weren't exclusive or restricted to each other, they were still very much in love.
Tonight was about testing. Starr leaned in to whisper into Monica's ear. “Monica, meet me in my office and wait for me. I need to speak to you about something. I'll be right behind you,” she proclaimed.
Without hesitation, Monica stood up, pulled the fallen straps of her silver silk Chanel thin dress back up over her shoulders and then provocatively strutted her way down the hall. She could feel that the three glasses of Cîroc on the rocks she'd had had started to take effect by the way she slightly staggered down the hall.
Starr turned to Felicia. “Listen. I'm putting you on her tomorrow okay?”
Felicia thought of asking why, but she knew better than to question Starr. So she just listened as she continued.
“I'm sending you two on an important mission. I can't use any of the guys from the files for this. This has to come directly from us. Now, you're just tagging along. Make sure she's the one who puts in the real work. The first thing I want you to do is take her out to our firing range in the morning, see what she's made of, so we'll know if we have to go another route. Report her accuracy to me and then your assignment will come through the phone. I'm counting on you, Felicia; don't let her fuck this one up. I need her to stay as close to me as possible until I find out exactly what's what. But my guess is either way it goes we probably gonna have to get rid of her.”
She seductively rubbed on Felicia's left leg. “Now, too much business is boring. I'm 'bout to go have some real fun.” Starr gave Felicia a passionate kiss before she stood. They smiled at each other. It was no secret. Before there was Diamond, it was Felicia, so none of the Double Gs were surprised by the exchange. Besides, even if they wanted to say anything, they knew better not to. Not that Starr was concerned. She had long ago established a “see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil” policy in the organization. She gazed into Felicia's eyes for a moment. There was a brief pause. A new thought had entered her mind. She smiled at the thought. “Care to join me?” She reached out her hand for Felicia.
Felicia took hold of it and shook her head. “Here we go again.” Felicia chuckled.
Starr guided her up and then escorted her to her office where Monica awaited.
* * *
On the opposite side, the action going on across the street was a little different. As usual, Freeze was mentally distant, but his crew was used to it. Most of them remembered being the same way throughout all of their years in the DFY prison. They understood that a lot of his anger and aggression was pinned up inside him. But they didn't know the half. There were secrets, so many of them. Deep, dark ones that; sometimes, the mind played tricks. There was one thing about Freeze's mind that wasn't screwed up: his memory. He never forgot a face. Even if that wasn't the case, he would always remember Officer Blake's or Officer Douglass's. It was Officer Blake who he had shot at when he was at Frenchie's house. It was Officer Douglass who carried him away and charged him with the crimes that sent him away, depriving him of his final stage of his childhood, turning him into the monster of a killer he had become today. Seeing what had happened to them on the news was exciting to him and depriving. The story of what happened to Officer Blake was very entertaining to Freeze. On the other hand, he despised Officer Douglass and the way he dragged him out of that house with no remorse, for being the cause of the split among his only remaining family members.
“Your table's ready,” one of the promoters informed Freeze as he and his entourage reached the front entrance of the hot spot.
“Good looking.” Freeze shook the man's hand, pressing four crisp hundred dollar bills in his palm on behalf of himself and all twelve of his goons.
The promoter nodded and smiled. “Anytime, Freeze.” He didn't bother to look at the money. Instead he slipped it into his inside suit jacket pocket.
The sound of Rick Ross's voice filled the air, catching Freeze's attention. One would have thought the party was outside, the way the track “Ima Boss” rang out. When he looked he noticed where the music was coming from.
Prime had made quite an entrance himself. His team pulled up back to back in a long line of exotic vehicles. They rolled like superstars. Freeze had never seen the convoy of cars and SUVs pull up. People cheered them on as doors flew open in front of valet. Prime was the first to exit his calypso red Jaguar. The rest of his crew followed suit. He waited until they had all possied up around him. They hovered around Prime like he was Barack Obama himself; then, together, they walked past the long line of people who hadn't made it in Treasures yet due to the maximum capacity set by the fire marshal or their suburban status.
They were shouted out by the DJ as they entered. “Make way for the boss man and his crew, y'all. We got some serious money in the house tonight, ladies and gents. Don't go broke tryin'a keep up. Let's just say that they leave for us ta sweep up!” DJ Odyssey clowned into the mic as all eyes watched Prime and his crew roll upstairs to the VIP lounge.
As they were escorted to their personal section, Prime briefly locked eyes with Freeze; when they both let it go, they figured that their day to clash would eventually come. But for now they both felt that they had more important things to concentrate on. They had no way of knowing their thoughts actually intertwined. Freeze couldn't help but chuckle to himself. He assumed that Prime had endured the same humiliation and degrading experience he had.
If only muthafuckas knew,
thought Freeze. He waved down one of the half-naked waitresses then sent her over to Prime's section to inform him that he was picking up their tab for the night.
Prime felt that he couldn't let Freeze show him up like that. So he told the waitress to inform them that he would be doing the same for them. It was a statement that quickly turned into a drinking contest. Both crews got turned up with no limitation. Most of the bottles were either passed out to strangers or poured on the strippers. Both men eyed the other for the rest of the evening as their crew lived it up at their expense. By the end of the night, Freeze and Prime gave each other approving nods. Freeze made a mental note to do a follow-up on the acknowledging nod. For some reason, he had a funny feeling that another time and another place he and Prime should have a sit-down and talk. Unbeknownst to him, Prime was thinking the same thing.