Baltimore Chronicles (10 page)

Day walked up behind Tiphani in the parking lot of her local supermarket. He had been following her like Scar wanted, but it was also to his benefit as well. Here he could get on Scar's good side and at the same time gather information to destroy him.

“Justice Fuller,” Day called out.

Tiphani turned around to see who was calling her. She loved it when people recognized her on the street, and especially when they referred to her as Justice. It actually kind of turned her on. “Yes?” she replied to the stranger.

Day said quietly, “Justice Fuller, I am an associate of Scar Johnson.”

Tiphani got nervous. She looked around to make sure no one had heard what was just said.

Day added, “He informed me that you will be gathering information regarding some armored vehicles.”

“Who did you say you were?” she asked, not wanting to give any information to a stranger.

“I work for Scar. He and Sticks are grooming me. Scar told me what you are doing, and I want to do it for you.”

“Oh, you want to take my glory and get in good with your boss. Well, I promised my man I would deliver, and I will.”

“No, I don't want to take credit for it. I just want to make sure you are out of harm's way. See, Scar told me he was concerned for you. He is afraid you will get caught. I just want to ensure that you don't. Yes, I want to keep Scar happy, not by giving him the information, but by keeping you safe. You see he loves you.” Day was playing on Tiphani's emotions, knowing how much she loved Scar.

Tiphani was beside herself. There was nothing in the world she wanted to hear more than that. “Did he say that—he loves me?”

“Yes, he did,” Day said, laying it on thick now. “That's why I propose that I gather the information, but you can relay it to him. That way Scar stays happy because you are safe.”

Tiphani thought it over in her head for a few seconds. She could keep Scar happy by being safe and also giving him information that would make him tons of money. Then he would keep fucking her like she wanted. But what she thought of most was that Scar said he loved her.

“Okay. If it will keep Scar happy, let's do it. I don't want my love to be too worried about me. But I will lock your ass up if you try and take credit.”

“I won't, I promise. I'm just trying to make my cash, and it's easier to do that when the boss is happy.”

After exchanging a few more details, they agreed on a meeting place and time when Day could gather all of the information from Tiphani. Day walked away happy that he now had more control of his position in the crew, and Tiphani walked away thinking about how in love she and Scar were with each other. In Tiphani's mind they were going to be the ultimate power couple.

 

Scar was banging into Tiphani's ass from the back. This time she had on her judge's robe. The black material hung around her hips while he moved in and out of her rapidly.

“Who fucks you the best, Your Honor?” Scar said.

Tiphani couldn't even answer him, she felt so good.

Scar felt the nut building up, so he quickly pulled his dick out and squirted his load all over her robe. “Now, that's that reverse Bill Clinton shit! Fuck justice!” Scar said, laughing as Tiphani collapsed on the bed.

Tiphani and Scar had been meeting up in some of the seediest parts of town to ensure that none of her professional colleagues saw them together. It had been a week since he'd accepted her back, and she had been getting fucked lovely every day since. Scar had even fucked her one time in his truck in a dark-ass alley in the hood. Tiphani could care less, as long as she was getting the dick.

“So what's up with that info?” Scar knew her mind would still be cloudy from the good sex, so she would tell him everything he needed to know.

“I drew you a little diagram,” she said, laying on Scar's chest now. “It has the times, which guard has what weapon, their whole routine.”

“That's wassup. I knew it was a reason I always thought you was the shit.” Scar really did think she was smart, but he didn't respect her one bit.

“So when is it going down?” she asked, leaning up on her elbow and looking into his face.

“We doin' the shit tomorrow night, if everything is gravy. I'm sending my crew out there to scope shit out tonight. As soon as I get the word from them, we will set shit into motion.”

“Oh, so you don't trust me and my information?” Tiphani pouted, a little offended.

“C'mon, baby girl. You know me better than that. I'm a thorough nigga. It's business, not personal.”

“All I want is ten percent of whatever the take is.”

Tiphani had kind of thrown Scar off. He wasn't really expecting to give her shit, but her demand made him have slightly more respect for her.

“A'ight, ma. We can do that. You better get a foreign bank account. Shit, ten percent of millions is gonna be hard as fuck to hide. You damn sure can't stuff those kinda stacks under your bed.”

Tiphani hadn't thought that far ahead, but Scar was right. She needed to open her foreign bank accounts immediately. She didn't plan on staying in town after the heist anyway. Her heart was set on disappearing with Scar and her kids to start a new life somewhere with beautiful beaches and constant sun.

 

Rodriguez took more pictures of Tiphani coming out of the seedy short-stay motel. “Damn, Tiphani, you have reached a new low over dick. You and your little boyfriend will be very sorry,” she said aloud, as if Tiphani could hear her.

Rodriguez put her camera down and picked up the stack of pictures she had just printed out at Wal-Mart. She shifted through all of the pictures of Tiphani and Scar together. She even had pictures of her naked in the back of Scar's truck.

Hell-bent on revenge for her sister's death, Rodriguez knew what she had was so strong, Tiphani would probably do anything to keep her from releasing the pictures to the media.

She flexed her jaw when she spotted Scar leaving shortly after Tiphani. “Fuckin' coward!” She gritted. She still couldn't believe she'd helped them to bring Derek down, something she considered one of the worst mistakes of her life, but since she was the last DES member standing, she had personally taken on the responsibility of getting revenge on Scar, whatever the cost—be it prison or death.

 

Anthony Gill put the barrel of his .22-caliber pistol in his mouth and pulled the trigger. Part of his brain busted out of the back of his skull, and his body dropped to the floor like a metal anvil. After being publicly humiliated, Anthony saw his life as being over anyway. Already removed as DA, he knew it was just a matter of time before he was fired all together.

Anthony had sent a note to the mayor explaining that Tiphani and Scar Johnson had made a fool of him, that he didn't want to live any longer. He also sent some of Tiphani's old case files, the ones where she had made side deals.

 

When Mayor Steele received the letter from Anthony a cold chill had shot down his spine. He read it over and over again. Tiphani was ruining lives one by one, and he wanted her out of the way once and for all.

Mayor Steele, in a close race for the senate seat, with the polls showing him behind by only a few points, needed something to bolster him into the limelight, so he would still have a chance to pull into the lead. With dirt like that on the new circuit court judge, he could portray himself as being tough on government corruption, which would give him a fighting chance at winning the senate seat. But since he was the one who'd appointed her, the situation was a delicate one.

The mayor had been trying to wait before revealing Tiphani's secret, keeping it as a trump card. He really didn't want the evidence to leak out. As he had always done, he wanted to make a behind-doors deal to get her out of the way for good. But as the race went on, he needed a smoking gun, and it looked like Tiphani was holding it.

I'm not waiting anymore,
he thought.
Fuck this bitch. Now my friend Anthony is dead because of this bitch. Her husband is in jail. This bitch is like a black widow spider, and I'm about to cut off all eight of her fucking legs.

“Marsha! Marsha!” the mayor called out.

The young intern rushed into his office. “Yes, sir,” she huffed.

“I need you to send out all of these packages with a return receipt. Do not open them and do not fuck this up!”

“I won't, sir. Yes, sir.” Marsha took the stack of oversized manila envelopes from the mayor and rushed out of his office. Once she was on the elevator she read the addressee information on each envelope: NBC; ABC; CNN; FOX. She could only wonder what was inside those envelopes.

Mayor Steele needed to get Tiphani's phone number. After being appointed to the judgeship, she had changed her cell number. He wanted to let her know which day to watch the news, so when the world saw her bare naked ass, she would too.

***

When the CO came to the cell to tell Derek he had a visitor he was shocked. He knew damn sure Tiphani wouldn't be coming to visit him again, and he didn't have anyone else. All his friends were either dead or had turned on him.

Derek's mind raced as he followed quietly behind the CO. When he finally walked into the visiting area, his jaw almost hit the floor.

“Let me just start by saying I am so sorry,” Rodriguez said in a low, remorse-filled voice.

Derek sat across the table from his visitor, at a loss for words. If there weren't so many COs around, he might've jumped across the table and tried to strangle Rodriguez to death for turning her back on him.

“It's all a part of the game, I guess,” he replied.

“I'm here about Tiphani. She is into some heavy shit—”

“I already know all I need to know about that conniving bitch. It was all of you that didn't believe me when I said I was being set up.”

“I need your help. I need to know what makes her tick. I need to know everything about her. She was the judge on Johnson's case, and all along she was fucking him.”

“That's old news. She was fucking him, and I busted them. That's what started this whole fuckin' war to begin with. Unfortunately, me, Cassell, Archie, and Bolden ended up being casualties. You were our only hope, but you let them convince you to turn on the DES,” Derek growled. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got.

“I swear, I didn't know. I didn't know who to trust. I am sorry. I had to take care of my sister,” Rodriguez said, her eyes welling with tears.

“What does she have to do with this?” Derek asked softly.

“She has everything to do with it. My mother couldn't afford to take care of her, to keep a roof over their head, none of that. They needed me. She was sixteen, and they killed her, Derek!” Rodriguez whispered, hot tears in her eyes.

“Who killed her? Scar?”

“Scar's little crew. I think he ordered the hit. They may have found out she was my sister. I swear I will not rest until that mu'fucka Scar is dead or in jail for the rest of his black-ass life. And, Tiphani, she is going down with him. She made it easy for him—all over some dick,” Rodriguez said through clenched teeth.

“I can tell you everything you want to know about her, but you gotta promise to help me win my appeal.”

Rodriguez extended her hand for a shake. “Deal.”

They had struck a deal, but they didn't realize that, in the Baltimore County jail, the walls had ears.

Derek was feeling good on his way back to the tier after his meeting with Rodriguez. He had his fellow officer on his side and the mayor. He was sure he would make it out of jail before he could be sent to the state penitentiary.

As he walked along with a smile, he noticed that the CO took a different turn than their usual path to the protective segregation unit. The CO was new, one he hadn't seen in the jail before. “Yo, ain't you goin' the wrong way?” he asked.

The CO didn't answer.

They turned another corner, and suddenly—blackness. Derek tried to scream, but he had a pillow case put over his head.

“They told you to watch your back, nigga!” his attacker mumbled.

The next thing he felt was cold metal piercing the skin of his back, arms, legs, and neck. Derek had been stabbed with a shank over forty times and was bleeding all over his body.

When the deed was done, the fake CO shed his stolen uniform and rushed through the hallways to the escape route his inside contact had given him. He was outside in no time.

He picked up his cell phone and called a very important person. “Yeah, it's done,” he said. “Where do I go for my paper?” Satisfied with the answer, he hung up.

Sticks and Trail lay side by side in the bushes on the side of the state capitol building in their assigned positions. Scar had given all of the crew members detailed assignments.

Trail's heart began hammering in his chest when, like clockwork, he saw two armored trucks pull up to the building. And just like Tiphani had said, the armed guards were all laughing and playing around as they unloaded the bags of money. Sticks got up on his knees for a better view.

“Get down, nigga,” Trail whispered.

Sticks, anxious to play cowboys and Indians with the guards, ignored him. He was an attention-seeker for real, and he loved a good shootout, but that wasn't part of the plan.

Trail was pissed. He added this incident to a laundry list of shit he wanted to tell Scar about Sticks.

Sticks and Trail watched as two of the armed guards disappeared into the building, while the others hung around talking shit outside.

Trail saw the two black Suburbans approaching in the distance and took that as his signal. Staying low, he quietly ran across the grass and grabbed the guard with the shotgun around the neck, from the back. The guard didn't have time to react, his air supply completely choked off by Trail's tight grip rendering him completely powerless.

Sticks did the same with the other guard, who held a long gun. Except, Sticks used a safari knife to cut his throat.

That wasn't part of the plan either. Trail almost threw up from all of the blood.

Just like a well-run assembly line, their plan fell into place perfectly. As soon as Sticks and Trail had the two biggest threats down, Scar jumped out of one of the Suburbans and shot the other two guards with his Glock, muffled by his homemade silencer.

Then the little young'uns jumped into the back of the armored trucks and began grabbing bags and bags of loot.

After about five minutes, the other two guards were seen talking as they came back out of the building. They immediately noticed that something was wrong. In unison, they both went to draw their weapons, but it was too late. They were ambushed on either side by Timber and another little young boy.

It all happened so fast. All of the guards were dead, and the area looked like a horror film massacre scene, with blood everywhere. Scar had made sure Day got rid of the building's outside surveillance camera prior to the setup.

Everyone piled into the Suburbans, and they raced away from the scene, the SUVs filled with cash.

“Yo, I thought that bitch said it would be six trucks?” Sticks was still on a high from the murder he had committed. But he didn't think they had enough money from just the two trucks. A bunch of people had to get a cut, and he knew Scar would be taking the lion's share.

“Six trucks or two trucks, we got paid, nigga, so stop complaining,” Timber said.

Some of the other little crew members started laughing. Nobody was showing Sticks the same respect since Scar's return.

“Who the fuck you talkin' to?” Sticks growled, feeling the heat of embarrassment rising in his chest.

“I'm talkin' to you, bitch-ass nigga!” Timber barked.

Sick and tired of Sticks' shit, some of the others instigated the situation, chanting, “Ohh!”

Timber went on talking to another crew member about the money.

Suddenly,
Bang! Bang!
Two shots rang out inside the truck. Timber's body slumped down in the backseat. Everybody in the truck knew he was dead.

Day almost swerved off the road. “Yo! What the fuck, nigga?” he screamed, his ears ringing.

“You asking questions, or you driving? You can be added to the list of niggas that got caught by the Grim Reaper, if you want to,” Sticks said calmly.

When the crew arrived back at the warehouse, Scar got out of the other Suburban. No one dared to say anything to him.

“Where is everybody?” Scar asked when he didn't see Timber.

There was silence.

Finally, Sticks stepped up. “I had to murk that nigga, boss. He was talkin' about all the shit he was gonna do with his paper and I saw him as more of a liability than an asset. A nigga that run his mouth like that ain't worthy.”

The other little young'uns looked around at each other in amazement, but they were too scared to tell Scar the real story.

“My nigga. Always lookin' out,” Scar said, giving Sticks a pound. “Now let's count up this paper.”

They unloaded the bags and poured out the money on the floor of the warehouse.

“Daaammn!” Scar exclaimed, looking at all of the money stacks. They had to have at least two million dollars in stacks of big bills there. The money had come from so many places and was unmarked.

Tiphani had come through for real. Scar was smiling from ear to ear. He was so happy, he even contemplated keeping her around a little while longer. He picked up his phone and called her.

 

Tiphani put a hundred-dollar bill between her ass cheeks and told Scar to take it out with his mouth. She giggled like a high school girl when he followed her instructions.

“I always wanted to be able to have enough money to wipe my ass with it,” she said, laughing even harder.

Scar climbed up behind her and swiped his dick up and down her ass crack.

“I'd much rather wipe my ass with that though,” she purred.

Scar parted her ass cheeks and wet her asshole with his spit. As Tiphani arched her back and lifted her body to accept him, he slowly eased his dick into her anal opening.

Tiphani bit down into the pillow, and tears leaked from the sides of her eyes. The pain shooting through her ass was almost unbearable.

But the more of his manhood he put in, the better it felt to her. Soon, she was matching Scar pump for pump, and he was moving in and out of her asshole with ease, like it was her pussy.

Tiphani reached under her stomach and put her fingers into her vaginal opening. Having both holes filled made her go wild. She bucked and slammed into Scar even harder now, sending the money that surrounded them on the bed flying all over the place.

“Agghhhhh!” she screamed. Her body shuddered and she fell onto the bed. She'd just had the best orgasm of her life.

Scar was next. “Arrgghh!!” he growled, shooting his load into her tight asshole.

Tiphani lay almost paralyzed on the bed, and Scar fell to the side next to her. She smiled to herself, feeling like her life couldn't be more perfect. She had already made her deposit into her overseas account in the Cayman Islands and was enjoying the fruits of her labor.

 

Sticks waited outside of Trail's baby mother's house. He watched as Trail kissed his little girl and his baby mother at the door. He felt a pang of jealousy. He didn't have any family, and he couldn't hold down a relationship after what happened with Danielle.

Sticks had been watching Trail ever since Scar had told him that Trail was complaining about him behind his back. The crew had another job planned for that night, and Sticks just didn't trust him.

Trail skipped down the front steps of his house, feeling good. He had money stashed now, to take care of his two favorite girls. Trail had come a long way in the game, but after the heist tonight, he planned on getting out and moving far away from Sticks, Scar, and the entire Dirty Money Crew. Preoccupied with his thoughts, he wasn't looking at his surroundings. He went to open his car door.

Sticks stepped from behind it. “What up?” he said, appearing out of nowhere.

Trail jumped so hard, he dropped his keys. “Nigga, what the fuck is you doin' sneaking up on a nigga like that?” Trail could feel his heart beating in his throat. He didn't trust Sticks either.

“What? You ain't happy to see me?” Sticks asked with an evil smile. “Let's take a ride. Scar wants us to do a job,” he lied.

“He didn't hit me and tell me shit about a job. What kind of job?” Trail could barely get his nerves under control.

“Just c'mon, nigga. Get in the car. Follow my lead.”

Sticks moved his shirt slightly to show Trail his gun, and Trail reluctantly got into his car with Sticks.

Sticks gave Trail directions, a left here, two rights there, and finally they ended up riding down a desolate one-lane road in the country part of Baltimore.

“What the fuck is this, nigga? What could Scar possibly have out here?” Trail asked, looking around.

“We suppose to do a pickup. Scar didn't wanna risk shit getting out in the city,” Sticks lied again. “See that car up there? That's them niggas we suppose to meet up with. Pull right behind that car.”

Trail felt slightly better. At first, he thought Sticks was doing some snake shit, but when he saw a car parked ahead of them, a feeling of relief washed over him, and he thought maybe Sticks was telling the truth.

Trail stopped his car behind the parked vehicle. “Yo, it don't look like nobody in that shit.” He squinted to get a better look.

The next thing Trail felt was cold steel up against his temple. He jumped, and his first instinct was to reach for his own burner.

“Don't even try it, mu'fucka! Get the fuck out the car!”

“Yo, nigga, you on some real bullshit,” Trail said, raising his hands.

Sticks kept the gun on Trail, reaching around and taking Trail's gun from his waist. “Now get the fuck out the car!” he barked again.

“Just tell me what the fuck you want, and let's get this shit over with, nigga.”

“You a bitch-ass nigga. I heard you was running your trap about me. You think I'm a power-hungry mu'fucka, huh? Well, you know what…you're right.” Sticks slammed his gun into Trail's head.

“Agghhh!” Trail screamed out as blood spurted from his head. He fell to the ground, holding his head.

Sticks stood over him. “Stand up and face me like a man.”

“Yo, nigga, I don't want no beef with you, man. You can have whatever you want. You want my share of the loot, so be it.” Trail wiped blood out of his eyes.

“Nah, nigga, I don't need your money. Although after I fuck your bitch and kiss your baby girl, I might just take that shit.” Sticks laughed like a maniac.

Trail tried to drag himself up off the ground to attack Sticks. He couldn't bear to think about Sticks going to his home and putting a hand on his wifey and baby. “You bitch-ass nigga!” he screamed.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Trail's efforts to attack Sticks were short-lived. His eyes popped open wider and wider with each shot that pierced his body. He placed his hands over his chest, and his body involuntarily jerked as the life went out of him.

“Who shot ya? Separate the weak from the ob-so-lete!” Sticks sang the Biggie verse as he looked down at Trail's dead body. He spat on his crew member and got into the getaway car he had stashed there.

Sticks drove back into the city to get ready for their job. He had no remorse, and he was ready to murk any other nigga that tried to get in his way. Including Scar.

 

Tiphani rushed out of her car to get to court. She had a few hearings scheduled that she wanted to get over with. Tonight was her and Scar's biggest heist. She couldn't stop thinking about how much money she would get from this job. In fact, she was hoping it was enough to set her up for life.

Just as Tiphani approached the judge's entrance at the back of the courthouse, she was confronted.

“Good morning, Your Honor,” Rodriguez said, stepping in her path.

“Rodriguez, what, what are you doing back here? The police entrance is at the front.”

“I'm not here on police business. I'm here on judge business.” Rodriguez grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of the view of the court officers standing guard at the back door.

“Get your hands off of me! What is the meaning of this shit?” Tiphani yelled.

“I know all about you and Scar Johnson,” Rodriguez began.

Tiphani opened her mouth to speak, but Rodriguez cut her off.

“Don't try to deny it. I'm not asking you, I'm telling you,” she said. She pulled a manila envelope from her jacket. “You might want to take a look at these before you say a word.” She handed Tiphani the envelope.

Hands shaking, Tiphani slowly opened the envelope. She became hot all over her body at the sight of the pictures inside. “Where did you get these?” she gasped, barely able to speak.

“Don't worry about that. Just know there are more where that came from. Now, can we talk business?”

“What do you want? If it's money, how much? Just tell me,” Tiphani whispered. She was drenched in sweat.

“I want you to set Scar up and help me bring him down once and for all. He killed my sister, he is killing kids on these streets, and he set Derek up.”

“How?” Tiphani croaked out, tears streaming down her face. She was caught up. She had no choice but to comply with Rodriguez to save her own ass.

“I want you to tell me where the next heist is going down, so we can have teams waiting. Scar will not make it out alive this time.”

“W—w—what about me and my children?” Tiphani whined, a mess of tears, sweat, and nerves. “We won't be safe if I give you the information.”

“Scar won't know it was you that snitched. I'm not that coldhearted that I'd tell him it was you. But once I help you get away from him, you have to help me free Derek of all the charges against him. Tiphani, you and I both know he is innocent.”

Tiphani hung her head. Her so-called good life and fantasy love life was falling apart right before her eyes. With pictures like that, she would be thrown in jail for helping Scar get off on his trial. Not to mention, her face would be plastered all over the media as a crooked judge who slept with defendants. Tiphani had to save herself and think about her children.

“Okay. I will help you bring Scar down,” she said, barely able to get the words out.

“Good. Let's talk about a plan. This has to happen sooner rather than later. I will not wait another minute to bring him down to his fucking knees.”