Baltimore Chronicles (5 page)

As Rodriguez drove off, the shadow thought,
Apparently no one has any loyalty in B-More. Is anybody on the straight and narrow in this city?
Making a mental note to find out what shit Rodriguez was into, the shadow stayed put to stake out the warehouse. The main focus right now was to take down the Dirty Money Crew.

 

Tiphani lowered her head as she heard the news reporter's words.

“Today, former Maryland state trooper DES Detective Derek Fuller was found guilty of first-degree murder of DES officer Christian Archie. Fuller's sentencing will be held next month. The prosecutor's office is seeking the death penalty in the case.”

Tiphani, torn between a whirlwind of emotions, had a frail smile on her face. She thought about her life with Derek and how hard he'd tried to please her. She felt slightly guilty and responsible for his entire downfall. Then she thought about her kids. How would she explain all of this to them? Tiphani felt horrible that they would grow up without Derek, that their only memories would be of the media reports that their father was a crooked cop and a murderer.

Tiphani closed her eyes and tried to make herself feel better. It was hard. She tried to think of negative things about Derek. Then she remembered that he'd tried to take her children from her. That was enough for the moment. She clung to that one thought because it helped ease her guilt.

She thought about the way she was going to look in her judge's robe when she returned to Baltimore. That alone made her feel much, much better. She was finally smiling. Then she let out a small laugh. “He just got what was coming to him,” she whispered. “That's all.”

Tiphani looked over at Scar's sleeping form, watching him as he took each breath. She felt all dreamy inside. She sometimes couldn't believe that she was really in love with Scar. The time on the boat had proved him to be more attentive and charming than she thought he could be.

While with her, he had put aside the tough-guy exterior that he displayed on the street, doing little things for her, like rubbing her feet, or making her little animals out of paper to cheer her up when she was missing her kids. He would hold her when she cried, stroking her hair gently, and kissing the top of her head to comfort her. Tiphani felt that Scar was more than just some street thug that killed people. He was the man she was in love with. She often thought about what it would be like if she could have an open relationship with him, or if they could get married. Tiphani wanted to be with Scar all of the time for the rest of her life and could only hope he felt the same way.

Tiphani reached over and turned the TV off. She slid into the bed and eased her body behind Scar's. Then she threw her arm around him and hugged him. This was where she wanted to be forever.

Six Months Later

Tiphani stumbled into the emergency room at Baltimore General Hospital. “Help! Help me!” she screamed, her eyes wide and dazed, blood dripping down her face. “Please help me!” she squealed again.

Everyone inside the bustling county hospital ER turned and stared at her. One lady put her hands over her mouth in shock.

The triage nurse jumped up and rushed toward Tiphani. “Get a team!” she yelled into a small hand-held radio device.

Tiphani screamed again, “They are gonna kill me!” and then she collapsed to the floor.

A team of doctors and nurses rushed to her side. They worked together and hoisted her up off the floor onto a gurney. “She's got a large laceration on the head,” the lead surgeon said to the team. “Appears to have bruising everywhere. Looks like somebody worked her over pretty good.”

“Help me!” Tiphani screamed, seeming to come back alive. Clothed in only a dirty, ripped white tee-shirt, she started thrashing her bare legs wildly. Her hair was matted, her entire body bruised, and the soles of her feet were filthy like she'd walked a thousand miles barefoot to get there.

“Strap her down!” the doctor demanded as Tiphani bucked and thrashed wildly. “She appears to be going into shock!” The team rushed to strap her to the temporary bed.

Once inside the examination room, Tiphani began screaming again, this time, just a high-pitched shriek.

“We need to sedate her in order to treat her,” one of the nurses said.

After a nod from the doctor, the nurse skittered away to retrieve a syringe filled with a mild sedative. She plunged it into one of Tiphani's thighs, and Tiphani's body quickly went slack. She was knocked out.

For the next hour, the nurses and doctors examined her limp body, her face riddled with bruises. Since she had no identification, the hospital staff treating her had planned to take fingerprints while she was knocked out so they could try to identify her.

Before they could get a technician to take the prints, one of the nurses looked at Tiphani closely. She crinkled her eyebrows and mumbled to herself, “This lady looks very familiar. I know I've seen her somewhere before.”

She rushed out of the room and went into the ER's lobby. She ran over to the bulletin board that displayed all of Baltimore's WANTED and MISSING posters. The nurse looked up and down at each row of pictures. “I knew it!” she screamed, snatching Tiphani's picture off the board. She ran back to Tiphani's room like she was on fire. “Doctor! Doctor!” she called out, waving the MISSING poster in front of her. “Somebody needs to call the police!”

 

Tiphani's eyes fluttered as she came into consciousness. She could hear voices around her. “Help,” she rasped out.

Somebody moved toward her quickly. “Mrs. Fuller?” a man said. “I am Detective Hanson.”

“Mmm, save me,” Tiphani croaked.

“No one can hurt you now, Ms. Fuller. We will protect you,” the detective said, standing at the side of Tiphani's hospital bed.

After a minute of staring at her, the detective got right to the point. “Ms. Fuller, do you know what happened to you? Who hurt you like this?”

“They hurt me. They said they would kill me. They said it was because of him,” she said through tears.

“Who? Ms. Fuller, tell us who,” Detective Hanson replied, his eyes sympathetic.

Detective Hanson was drawn in, and Tiphani knew it. She could tell by the concern written on his face that her Oscar-worthy performance had worked like a charm. She had everyone at the hospital fooled. Once again, Scar had steered her in the right direction. Tiphani had endured the most painful part of her role—the self-inflicted injuries?just so the entire plan would come together realistically.

 

Derek almost choked on his own spit when the breaking news report streamed across the TV screen and interrupted his daily dose of
The Maury Show
. The breaking news was that Tiphani had made a daring escape from her captors after six months and ran for her life right into the Baltimore County Hospital room. It was also being reported that the police were questioning Tiphani, and so far they believe her kidnapping is directly related to her husband's crimes.

Derek couldn't take anymore. He rushed into his cell, his mind racing once again. Although he was pissed off that he was being blamed once again for something he didn't do, a feeling of relief settled over him. At least his kids would not be in the system and they'd have their mother, he reasoned. Derek thought the entire kidnapping had Scar written all over it. He could only wonder if his wife would stoop so low as to be a part of it as well.

 

Tiphani's recovery went quickly but not quickly enough for her, as some of the scars from the injuries she and Scar inflicted on her body were still slightly visible. The day Tiphani left the hospital, she was swarmed by reporters from all over. Even the BBC wanted a piece of her. A hailstorm of questions were thrown at her as soon as she stepped through the hospital's revolving doors.

Secretly, Tiphani was loving every minute of the attention. She was one hundred percent sure the District Attorney Anthony Gill and Mayor Mathias Steele had been watching the reports on her. She stood at the podium and fielded question after question.

“I am just happy to be alive. I was held for months with little to no food. I was beaten and verbally abused,” Tiphani said, her voice cracking as she acted like she was choking back tears. The crowd that had gathered was hanging on her every word.

“Although I cannot identify my abductors because they kept themselves hidden behind masks, I am sure that the police will find them and justice will be served. I have no further comments.” Tiphani waited to be escorted into the black Lincoln Town Car that was waiting for her.

Tiphani's popularity soared. She was booked on every news and talk show. When Oprah's show producers called her, she'd jumped up and down when she hung up the phone. Her reunion with her kids was highly publicized as well, one reporter even commenting that the entire thing seemed “staged.”

Tiphani was dubbed a heroic survivor. On every show she appeared on, she made sure to act as if she was very saddened by Derek's conviction. But she always made it a point to say that his actions had put her and her children in harm's way and that she was filing for divorce. Tiphani touted herself as an upstanding citizen on the right side of justice. She would quote the law and ensure that she appeared not only as a strong and brave victim, but also a sharp, well-versed attorney ready to take her career to the next level. She was establishing a solid platform to announce her political plans.

Tiphani appeared on
Oprah
dressed in a red two-piece skirt suit, red being the power color for female candidates running for public office. Tiphani sat up straight, folded her hands in her lap, and made sure she gave the proper amount of eye contact. She answered Oprah's questions without a hitch. She also shed a lot of fake tears when she had to speak about Derek and her so-called ordeal at the hands of people he was mixed up with. Then, without warning, she announced her plans to run for Baltimore County circuit court judge right there before millions of viewers. Even Oprah was caught a bit off guard by Tiphani's abrupt announcement. She told Oprah and the entire world that she was committed to public safety and justice, which was her reason for running for one of the circuit court judgeships. Tiphani smiled brightly when she received a standing ovation from the crowd. She could only hope Scar was watching their plan in action.

After almost two weeks of having no contact with Scar, Tiphani was going through withdrawal. She hadn't seen him since he had dropped her off a few miles from the hospital the day she'd reappeared. The night after the taping of her appearance on Oprah, Scar contacted her and told her that he would return to Baltimore as soon as she won her seat.

“I miss you so much,” she cried into the phone.

Scar just listened with no response. All he had on his mind was helping her win so that he could finally beat these cases against him and live the rest of his life in peace.

Danielle sat with her arms folded, her head cocked to the side as she looked across the table at her big sister Maria in disgust. The scowl on her face spoke volumes. Her older sister had been calling her and showing up at her house almost every day since she had seen her inside of the Dirty Money Crew's warehouse. Finally Danielle had agreed to meet with her because she couldn't take the pressure from their mother, and she damn sure couldn't stand her pig-ass sister blowing up her cell phone while she was with Sticks.

Danielle had decided she was there today to tell her sister that she wanted her to get the hell out of her business. She didn't need her sister sniffing around and blowing up her spot. She was loyal to Sticks, and Maria could kick rocks if she didn't understand that. At sixteen, she decided that she'd rather ride or die with Sticks, who she had fallen deeply in love with, than listen to her overbearing and overprotective sister.
This bitch thinks she's somebody's mama,
Danielle thought.

“Are you going to eat?” Maria asked softly. She could read Danielle's body language very well. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the teenage girl didn't want to be there.

“Yup. When I leave here I will eat. My man will buy me food. I don't want anything from you, including the food that you buy.”

Trying to remain calm, Maria lowered her eyes and shoveled a forkful of pasta into her mouth. What she really wanted to do was reach across the table and slap the taste from her little sister's mouth.

“Why would you get involved with a crew like that? Do you really know who they are? They murder people, Danielle. Do you even know who Scar Johnson is? What he is capable of? Not only is it dangerous to be associated with people like that, it's stupid,” Maria whispered harshly, letting her feelings drip through every word.

“You don't know nothing about me or them. You think you wrote the book because you're a fuckin' crooked-ass cop that takes bribes and shit!” Danielle screamed out, garnering looks from other patrons inside the restaurant. Danielle thought her sister was a big hypocrite. She was already regretting that she let her mother strong-arm her into meeting with her, knowing their mother always took her big sister's side.

“Don't worry about what I do. Do as I say, not as I do. I am a grown-ass woman. I can handle myself. This street shit is not a game to be played by little girls.” Maria gritted her teeth, squinting her eyes into slits. She figured if she was hard with her little sister, it would show her concern.

Rodriguez was truly troubled by her sister's new affiliations. They had come as a surprise. She obviously didn't know Danielle as well as she'd thought. Both sisters were stubborn as mules, so Maria knew telling Danielle what to do wouldn't work, but still she tried.

“What? Don't' tell me what to do. I'm never going to do as you say! Who the fuck are you? Don't try to play the big-sister role. This game is also not for crooked-ass cops. You don't fit in anywhere. I have one mother,” Danielle barked, rolling her eyes. “I don't need you on my back.”

“Danielle! I forbid you from seeing Sticks, and you also need to stay out of their warehouse. Don't you know if the police run up in there and find all of those drugs and guns, you're going to jail for a long, long time. I won't be able to help you,” Rodriguez spat, feeling like it was her duty to school Danielle.

Danielle began laughing. “Look, stupid, how many ways I gotta say it? Sticks is my man. Read my lips? I…love…him. You can't stop that. Now after sixteen years you think you can tell me what to do and who to see? Well, you can't!” Danielle screamed. “Why don't you just fuck off and leave me alone!” She pushed her chair back so hard, it hit the floor.

Everyone in the restaurant was watching and whispering about them now. Rodriguez tried to smile weakly to get the attention off of them, but it was too late. She and the onlookers watched as Danielle stormed out of the restaurant.

Danielle walked a few yards and suddenly felt physically sick. Her sister had aggravated her so much, her stomach started cramping. She felt a flash of heat come over her entire body then an overwhelming wave of nausea hit her like a Mack truck. She hunched over and threw up. She was hurling her brains out. When the entire contents of her stomach was out on the ground, she stood upright and tried to be strong on her weak legs, wiping her mouth and inhaling in an effort to get herself together.

Just then her phone began vibrating. She snatched it out of her bag; she wasn't in the mood for her sister or her mother. She looked at the screen and saw that it was Sticks calling. “Fuck!” she cursed under her breath. Her heart almost skipped a beat with fear. She knew if she answered it, he would ask where she was, and he'd probably say he was coming to get her.

Danielle started thinking quick about what she would say. Not wanting to be associated with Rodriguez at all, there was no way she could tell Sticks she was at a restaurant with her sister. She also couldn't risk lying to Sticks and saying she was in school because she never knew when he would show up. Unable to think of a lie quick enough, she decided to ignore Sticks' call. She figured she would get her head together and then call him back when she was calm and had thought out her lie.

Immediately Danielle dialed Veronica's number, the only other person Sticks found acceptable for her to hang out with. Sticks had forced her to cut off ties with all her other friends, both male and female. She nervously shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she waited for Veronica to pick up her phone. If Sticks was looking for her and couldn't find her, it wouldn't be long before he started scouring the streets.

After what seemed like an eternity, her friend answered, and a feeling of relief washed over her.

“Veronica, I need you to come get me. I'm downtown, and Sticks is already looking for me. I was with my lame-ass sister, and now I won't be able to explain to him where I was at. Get your ass here as soon as possible,” Danielle said nervously. She was so focused on her phone call, she didn't notice she was being watched.

After paying the bill, Rodriguez came outside. She was surprised to see her sister still standing out there. Trying to seize the opportunity, she rushed over to Danielle and tried again in vain to speak with her.

Not wanting anything else to do with her sister, Danielle began to walk away. Getting the hint, Rodriguez extended an envelope to her, which stopped Danielle in her tracks. Danielle knew it was the money for her mother. The money was the whole purpose of her meeting with her sister. Danielle may have been pissed off at her sister, but she wasn't about to mess with her mother's money. Reluctantly she snatched the envelope and threw it into her pocketbook.

Neither sister spoke. Danielle had more pressing issues to take care of, namely, how she was going to lie to Sticks.

Maria was too stubborn and knew she was wasting her breath, so she walked away feeling dejected.

“What the fuck is this bitch doing meeting with a fucking cop? Ain't this about a bitch? She is probably a fucking snitch! That's why that mu'fucka was staring at her the other day,” Sticks mumbled to himself.

Sticks had seen enough. He gripped the steering wheel of his car, willing himself not to get out and just shoot Danielle in the head right then and there. He had watched her go into the restaurant, with Rodriguez following right behind. At first, he figured it must've been a crazy coincidence, but then he remembered the way Rodriguez was staring at Danielle at the warehouse like she knew her. When Danielle came out alone, Sticks figured they'd planned it that way, just in case anyone was watching. But seeing her take the envelope from the cop was all he needed to draw a conclusion. That was how snitches rolled. He was really convinced she was a snitch when he saw her throwing up.
She sick because she is nervous as hell. I got something for that bitch. Can't believe I fell in love with this traitor-ass bitch
, he thought to himself as he watched the first girl he'd ever loved betray him.

Sticks wasn't the only one doing surveillance at the restaurant. The Shadow, like always, was there following Sticks. Since Scar's disappearance, the Shadow had been constantly trailing Sticks. In his inexperience, Sticks didn't even for a second think about anyone following him. He was starting to feel invincible in his new role as unofficial leader of the Dirty Money Crew.

All the same, this current situation was confusing to the Shadow. Why did the cop from the warehouse hand an envelope to Sticks' woman? What was the connection? It was getting hard for him to figure out all the different players and side deals going on in the Dirty Money Crew. He started thinking there was only so much information he could gather from the outside, that it might be time to infiltrate the crew, start taking them down from the inside.
It's time to join the Dirty Money Crew
, the Shadow thought.
But how?

Not knowing how to handle the situation, Rodriguez sat inside her car for a little while. Her conscience was eating at her as she thought about losing Danielle to the streets. She blamed herself.
Maybe if I was a better sister she wouldn't need to be in the streets. Maybe I should've never gotten down with Scar's crew and betrayed Derek.
All of these thoughts ran through her mind one after the other, like an electronic billboard sign.

Rodriguez closed her eyes to try and stop the images from scrolling. She had to admit that she knew all along that Scar and the Dirty Money Crew were a huge problem for the city of Baltimore, but she still fell victim to the allure of easy money. When she'd started taking his money, she didn't like Scar but could justify his actions and the reason to take the money, but now that he and his crew were influencing her family, she was growing to hate him and everything he stood for. She was ashamed that she'd never thought to do anything about the Dirty Money Crew, until they hit too close to home.

As she prepared to finally pull out of the restaurant's parking lot, she started thinking of ways to get Danielle away from the Dirty Money Crew's tight grip. As if a light bulb went off in her head, she thought of it. The perfect plan. She peeled out and began driving like a woman possessed.

 

Danielle had made it all the way home before calling Sticks. She and Veronica went over their lie a thousand times with a fine-tooth comb. They tried to think of every possible thing Sticks could ask. Danielle knew Sticks was just bold enough to call Veronica and interrogate her as well.

She dialed Sticks' number and nervously waited for him to pick up.

“Hey, baby,” she said sweetly, desperately trying to hide her nerves. She lied and told him she was in the mall with Veronica when he had called her, that her phone didn't have a signal. From what Danielle could tell, it seemed as if Sticks had bought the story. He didn't ask as many questions as he normally did, which set her at ease. Sticks told her to be ready in two hours because he was coming to get her.

Danielle hung up from Sticks and rushed into her bathroom. She looked around to make sure her mother was busy counting the money from Maria. When she was sure her mother was good and distracted, she closed the door, ripped her pants down, and took a piss in a cup. Before she could even think about getting dressed to see Sticks, she had to have a question answered. She needed to be one hundred percent sure.

The last few days had been hard on Danielle. She was throwing up the second she woke up, a sure sign of pregnancy. She tried to ignore it, but the feeling didn't seem to be going away. Danielle nervously stared down at the little white dipstick and waited, her heart beating like horse hoofs at the Kentucky Derby.

When the two lines showed up so quickly, she thought she was reading it wrong. She retrieved the box out of the garbage and read the back for the twentieth time. “Two pink lines mean pregnant,” she said out loud. She grabbed the hair at both sides of her head and shook her head from side to side in disbelief. She and Sticks had been having unprotected sex, but he'd made her feel so damn good, she never worried about the consequences.

What the hell am I going to do now?
she thought. Danielle put her back up against the bathroom door; slid down to the floor, and cried her eyes out. There was no way a baby would fit into her life right now. Besides, she didn't know what Sticks would think or say.

For the next two hours Danielle was walking around like a zombie, and before she knew it, Sticks was blowing up her phone again. She pulled herself together and went outside to meet him. Her mother's warnings as she left the house fell on deaf ears. Danielle was too distracted to even hear her. Her legs felt like they were made of melted butter as she walked to Sticks' car. She wasn't dressed like her usual sexy self, and by the look on his face, Sticks took immediate notice. She tried to smile to hide the fact that something was wrong, but her smile still appeared forced and fake.

“Hey, baby. I missed you,” she sang as she slid into the passenger seat of the car.

Sticks was unmoved and unnervingly short with her. Danielle took notice too. Her mind started going crazy with wild thoughts. M
aybe he knows I'm pregnant,
she thought as butterflies danced in her stomach. She willed herself to stay calm.

“Yo, where you been?” Sticks asked out of the blue. He wanted to test her, to see if she would tell him a lie to his face. Loyalty was everything to him. He kept trying to give Danielle the benefit of the doubt. He really did love her, but being a snitch was unacceptable in his book, no matter who the person was. Even if it was his mama.

“I-I told you. I was at the mall with Veronica. You know how those fuckin' dead zones are up in that raggedy-ass mall. No signal.” Danielle, unable to look Sticks in the eyes for fear she would burst out crying because of her secret, lowered her head and eyes. She knew it was his baby, but she was afraid he wouldn't take the news so well. She was scared he would accuse her of trying to trap him, and then he would leave her, or worse, beat her down like he had done twice before.