Trap House (36 page)

King sat forward in his seat and said in a nice voice, “I enjoyed your visit, Agent Fellows,
but it’s time for me to go. But, don’t worry, we will have a chance to visit again real soon.” King
pushed his chair away from the table, and then stood up and made his way to the door.

“Guard!” King yelled as the fat, white man reappeared, opening the door and letting him out. Agent Fellows
sat there for a few minutes alone, thinking back to when King made him so much money he didn’t know what
to do with it all.
Benny keeps my pockets fat, but he sure ain’t no King. King is too fucking smart and powerful,
which is why I can’t never let him get out of here alive
.

* * * * *

As the hole emerged bigger with each strike of the crowbar, light begin to shine on what was
behind the wall, revealing what they could start to make out to be some kind of safe. Qwon dropped
the crowbar and they began pulling the drywall away with their hands until they stood looking at
the safe that had been hidden in the walls for over ten years.

“Qwon, where is the key?” Twon could barely get the words out of his mouth before Qwon had
stuck the key in the lock and turned it. Twon turned the handle almost simultaneously, pulling the
safe door open. In the safe was a big black bag.

Qwon grabbed it and pulled it out. “Damn, this bag is heavy as hell,” Qwon said in a somewhat
strained voice as he dropped it to the floor in front of him. Twon bent down and opened the zipper.
As he pulled it back, they couldn’t help but see the money that seemed to jump out of the bag at
them.

“Shit, Twon, look at all the money,” Qwon said as his eyes got as big as silver dollars.

Twon reached down to make sure it was real. They wasted no time pulling out stack by stack,
the money which was neatly wrapped with money bonds which told them how much each stack
was. When the money was on the floor, they had counted five hundred thousand dollars.

“Qwon, we rich.” Twon said, trying to calm down.

“Hell yeah. I’m gonna buy Jordan’s for the rest of my life. Shit, what else is in the bag?”

Twon reached in, and pulled out two long black cases and an envelope.

“That’s it,” Twon said as he handed the cases to his brother. Qwon noticed that each case was
labeled with their names.

“Huh, this one is yours, Twon,” Qwon said as they opened the cases together.

They couldn’t believe what they saw. The looked at each other, then looked backed down
at what seemed to be a treasure. Each case contained two twin gold plated Desert Eagles, and
engraved in them were their names, Prince Twon and Prince Qwon. Living in the projects, they
had seen their share of guns, but none like those.

“Twon, see what’s in the envelope,” Qwon said as he stood up, holding both guns and aiming
at the wall. Twon ripped the envelope open as he grabbed the papers out of it. The key their father
told them about fell out onto the floor. Twon opened the papers. The first one had a bunch of words
and numbers on it. It looked like some kind of code or something. Twon went to the next paper.

“Twon, what was that?” Qwon said, putting the guns back in their cases.

“I don’t know, it looks like some kind of code or something.”

As Twon flipped to the next page, it had an address at the top: 1622 Harmony Lane, and under
it read:

If you boys are reading this, then I’m either dead or in jail. Whatever the situation, you have no time
to waste. The paper you have with the crazy writing on it you must protect it with your lives. I know you
don’t understand what’s going on right now, but you soon will. Hurry and go to the address. Make sure
you’re not followed. The money is for y’all, but that’s nothing compared to what your future will bring
y’all…King.

Qwon started packing the money up as Twon flipped to the last paper in his hand

“It’s a birth certificate,” Twon said, looking confused.

“A what?”

“You heard me, a birth certificate, but it ain’t neither one of ours. It says Latisha Scott, born
January 10
^th
, 1975 to Debra and Tyler Scott.”

“What the fuck is going on? Momma ain’t never saying nothing about no sister,” Qwon said.

“Hell naw, she must have died at birth,” Qwon said, trying to make up a logical excuse. “Fuck
it, Twon, let’s get the fuck out of here,” Qwon said, picking up the bag and turning toward the door,
and that’s when they heard it—the back door open and close.

“Twon, Qwon, we know you’re in here,” a voice yelled from downstairs. “We don’t want to hurt you, we just
wanna talk. We’re federal agents,” Agent Phillips said as he waived Agent Reynolds to go in the living room as
he covered him.

“Qwon, what are we gonna do now?” Twon said in a whisper.

“I got a plan,” he replied as he sat the bag back down and started to unzip it.

“Reynolds, you hear that? I think they’re upstairs, let’s go!” Phillips said, pointing to the stairs. Before they
could take a step, the thunderous sound of Qwon’s Desert Eagle filled the house. The agents dove back in the
kitchen as bullets whizzed past them, slamming into the wall and barely missing their target.

“Where you going, mu’fuckas!” Qwon yelled as he let off two more rounds.

“Put the gun down before somebody gets hurt!” Agent Phillips yelled back, now covered where the bullets
couldn’t reach him.

“What y’all here for?” asked Qwon.

“We just wanna talk, but you’re gonna have to put the gun down,” the agent said.

“Fuck y’all, I can hear you from there. Now, talk,” said Qwon. Phillips was left no choice but
to start talking.

“We’re not here to hurt y’all. We believe you got something we’re looking for and if you just
give it to us, we’ll leave and y’all can go about y’all business.” The agent got no response.

“Enough playing games, Phillips, let’s take these little bastards. Nobody will miss them,” said
Reynolds. Phillips grinned to his partner, enjoying the thought of killing the twins.

“Cover me,” Phillips said as he started making his way back into the living room with extreme
caution.

They were making their way to the stairs again. They were through talking and death was all
they could think about as they made their way to the top of the stairs. The bathroom door was
open directly in front of them to their right. A bedroom door was open as well, but to their left was
the twin’s room with the door shut. They secured the rooms behind them before approaching the
closed door. The agents took no more chances. They aimed at the door and opened fire with the
department issued .40 cals. In a matter of seconds, the door was ate up with gaping holes the size
of baseballs. The door barely crept open as the agents reloaded, hoping the silence meant they had
hit their targets. Agent Reynolds, with his gun out in front of him, stood with his back against the
wall by the entrance to the room, hoping his next step wouldn’t be his last. Phillips was crouched
down, moving slowly into the room as he made his way. His eyes got as big as the holes in the
door, and Reynolds looked down, seeing the expression on his partner’s face. That’s when he heard
the sound that would change everything for them.

January 7, 2002

W
ith only two days until court, King laid in his cell thinking about the last ten years of his
life. In ten years, he got one visit and that was from his beloved Queen. That was when
he first got there. After that visit, Queen never came back at his request. She knew why, because
there was too much at stake and she didn’t want to jeopardize the plan. Life in jail wasn’t hard
for the King. He had privileges that only money could buy—women, drugs, liquor, you name it,
and he got it. His cell wasn’t with the rest of the inmates; it was by itself on the wing at the prison
no longer used. His cell was two cells combined. He had carpeted floors, big screen TV, and, of
course, his king sized bed. The only thing King couldn’t buy was his freedom. He had to turn his
back on his family in order to protect them. The night he killed that officer, he knew what they
were looking for and he also knew that once they didn’t find it, they would surely kill him and his
family with no hesitation. For the secret King had, you could end up dead or in jail. So, instead
of waiting on them to decide, he decided jail. With him in jail, his secret was safe. Nobody knew
where it was but him and Queen. Even though her addition got the best of her, she would rather die
than betray her family. The thoughts of the Queen always touched a spot in his heart that nobody
but her knew existed in him. Those brown eyes, those pretty brown eyes.
Soon, love, they will all
pay
, the King thought as he closed his eyes and went to sleep, knowing the plan was underway.

As Agent Reynolds stood above his partner gripping his .40 cal as tightly as he could, the next
noise was undeniable. It was one that let him know that they had made a terrible error in judgment.
Agent Phillips seemed to have frozen in his tracks, knowing it was too late.
Skiiiiiiirt.
It was a
sound they had heard so many times before. It was the sound of their Crown Vic peeling out of
the driveway. Cops usually always left their car running, especially when it was as cold as it was
outside. That time it cost them big.

“Those fuckin’ niggers done climbed out of the window and stole our fuckin’ car!” Phillips
shouted to his partner as he ran to the open window that was previously boarded up. As he looked
out the window, he saw exactly how they got from the second floor to the ground. The garage was
right under their window, and that was an easy jump for two young boys of their age running for
their lives.

“Fuck, Phillips, the safe is empty. What the fuck are we gonna tell Fellows? He’s gonna have
our ass for this.”

“I don’t know, but we gotta get to a phone fast,” Phillips said, realizing their phones were in the
car. They holstered their weapons and headed for the stairs looking disgusted, knowing they would
surely kill the twins with great pleasure once they caught them. As they made their way down the
stairs and across the living room, Phillips couldn’t help but think to himself,
Didn’t we leave the
door open?
but he brushed it off as his cop instinct was working overtime. Too bad it was working
on the wrong thing, because they never heard the hallway closet open as they passed it.

“Y’all just wanted to talk, huh? Well, I hate to be rude and not talk back,” Twon said as he stood
behind the agents with both guns aimed at their targets.