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Authors: Tysha

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“Thank you for your time, Ms. James. You're free to go,” Detective Selma said as she opened the door for her exit.
David Smith was a nineteen-year-old college student headed for the same bus stop Dwayne crashed into. He did not want to be involved until Detective Iverson made him feel guilty for not speaking up for the kids who were killed. His mother supported his decision either way. David just wanted it all to go away.
“Yeah, the twins were in the second car. Like I've been telling y'all, I cannot tell them apart. I don't know which one returned fire to that man who died. What I can say for sure is they didn't start the chase,” David said, irritated.
“Look again and take your time,” Mrs. Boyce requested.
“Ma'am, I don't know what you want me to say but for the last time, I do not know.” David instructed the detectives not to contact him again. His duty was done.
“This is just a waste of time. We all know what's behind this but you don't have a case against my clients,” Mr. Jackson said to Mrs. Boyce.
“Not so fast; we have two more witnesses.” Mrs. Boyce tried to save face. She couldn't identify Prince from Jayden but wished for a miracle.
“NaTasha Douglas is next. She drove behind the cars and had a clear view of everything that happened,” Detective Selma announced.
NaTasha entered the room popping on a stick of gum. She'd just had blue and yellow hair sewn into her tracks and wanted to go show off the new look. One look at her and Mrs. Boyce knew her case was sinking fast.
“There are some fine-ass men looking at me,” NaTasha responded to the lineup with curiosity in her voice.
“They can't see you, Miss Douglas.” Detective Iverson laughed at the young woman.
“That's too bad 'cause numbers two, four, and five can get it.” NaTasha laughed but was serious. “Can I leave my number for them?”
“Miss Douglas, please focus,” Mrs. Boyce said, irritated.
NaTasha looked at Mrs. Boyce as if she were Satan himself. She rolled her eyes at the stuck-up woman and turned back around.
“Yeah, whatever. Number two and five are the fine-ass twins dat that nigga was shooting at. If I was them, I would've shot back too. It's a shame about the lady and her kids but dude got what he deserved. Now is that it? I got get ready for da club tonight.”
Prince and Jayden stood behind the glass, irate. In their entire lives, not one stranger had been able to tell them apart. Even when Prince sported braids and Jayden stayed lined up, they were always mistaken for one another so they thought the idea of a line-up was great. After an hour of standing in one spot they had grown tired and needed to rest.
Detective Iverson left the room and quickly returned with the last witness. Carla Austin had been sitting on her porch smoking a cigarette when the crash took place. She lied to the police at her initial interview hours after the accident. Getting involved in a shooting could have put her life in danger. The police knew she was lying. They were relentless in pulling a statement out of her when all she wanted was to be left alone. Here she was again, being bullied into going against her will. Carla wasn't afraid anymore; thanks to the police harassment, she was angry.
“So what? Y'all expect me to identify the shooter or something?” Carla asked, incensed.
“Yes, Miss Austin, take your time and look at each one of their faces. Tell us the number of the person shooting the day of that tragedy.” Mrs. Boyce tried to sound polite.
Carla wasn't falling for it. No matter what, her involvement in that mess was coming to an end right there and then.
“He's not there,” Carla blurted out.
“Miss Austin, just take a—” Detective Selma began.
“I said he ain't there, but I do know where you can find him,” Carla barked snidely.
“Where is the shooter?” Detective Iverson asked, somewhat amused by the witness's demeanor.
“Six feet under,” Carla replied.
“Miss Austin, please, you are starting to wear my nerves. We need you to identify the shooter of the Bonneville. This will all be over after your corporation,” Mrs. Boyce said demandingly.
“The driver of the other car pulls up on that Bonneville and chased them down. He started shooting and the other car didn't respond for a few seconds. Why are you so bent on fucking up those kids' lives? Go press charges against the dead man and while you're at it, kiss my ass!” Carla blared before walking out of the room.
Everyone in the room was stunned by the witness's outburst. Mrs. Boyce seemed to be alone in her exasperation. Detective Iverson was relieved he would be able to close the case. He knew the right thing needed to be done by the McGee family. They had a right to put the incident behind them and move forward. Life so far had tried them in every emotional way possible.
“It seems we're done here. No eyewitness means no charges can be filed. I'll be taking my clients home and any further harassment by the prosecutor's office will result in the biggest lawsuit in the history of this city. It will become a nationwide news story. Now, you all have a pleasant day.” Mr. Jackson bid them farewell as he left the room.
Chapter 38
Oh No, He Didn't
Sunday dinner with the family was perfect. Shy had prepared a meal fit for kings and queens; that's exactly who she was serving. As she looked around the table at her loved ones, Shy felt her heart flutter. Prince's and Jayden's health had improved greatly after the criminal case against them became a nonissue. Princess had started sleeping in her own bed again and the therapist was impressed by the little girl's progress. Quincy started classes at Kent State University and worked part time at a car dealership. Jayden and Brianna were talking about moving in together but Shy wasn't having it. They were too young to be playing house. Shy was concerned by how dependent Brianna had become on her son. It wasn't healthy. Brianna needed to see a therapist to get over the trauma. If Princess was able to overcome it, so could Brianna. Monica seemed to float around, waiting to see what Prince wanted of her. Shy had warned Prince that Monica was infatuated with him, not in love. She'd become possessive and passive. Monica was on the fast track to snapping and pulling a
Fatal Attraction
on Prince.
“If Monica tries to pull some
Fatal Attraction
–type bullshit on you, I'm laying her down. Trust me,” warned Shy.
“Ma, that girl ain't got the heart for that type of move. She cool, I got this,” Prince said dismissively.
Shy decided to leave it alone. Her instincts were never wrong so she knew a storm was brewing. When it hit, she'd be ready.
After dinner, Shy and Karl left for his house. They wanted some peace and quiet. With teenagers always invading her house, Shy found refuge at Karl's house. For the first time since Melvin's death, Shy was happy. She felt love, protection, and comfort with Karl. They seemed to be exactly what the other needed to get past their personal tragedies.
“Are you straight? Do you need anything?” Karl asked before he got comfortable next to Shy.
“I'm fine. Come on and sit down.” Shy smiled.
Karl found a position on the couch that allowed him to hold Shy. She pressed play and the movie played. Like the teenagers they'd run from, Shy and Karl kissed, fondled, and whispered sweet nothings to each other. Just as things got heated up, there was a knock on the door.
“Who could that be?” Karl wondered.
“Whoever it is, get rid of them,” Shy said seductively.
Karl was in the midst of fixing his pants as he swung the door open. He was shocked by who he saw. His stomach tightened.
“Hello, Karl.”
“What are you doing here?” Karl asked, confused and displeased by her unannounced presence.
It was Vaughn, his ex-wife. She smiled as she walked past Karl and into the house they once shared together.
“How are you, Karl? Judging by the bulge in your pants, it seems this isn't a good time.” Vaughn smirked.
“Why are you here? And you're right, this isn't a good time,” Karl said angrily.
“Oh, you're entertaining company?” Vaughn looked around as she spoke.
“My girlfriend and I are busy. Maybe you should call next time you want to drop by,” Karl suggested with displeasure.
“Yeah, maybe you should,” Shy chimed in and began a staring contest with the disrespectful woman.
“I'm sorry, have we met?” Vaughn extended her right arm.
“Trust me, if you'd ever crossed my path, you wouldn't have to ask that question,” Shy replied straight faced, leaving Vaughn's arm hanging in the air.
Karl was just as surprised by Vaughn's visit as Shy must have been. He watched the exchange between the two women and a feeling of dread washed over his happy mood. Vaughn needed to leave and Shy had to remain calm.
“Vaughn, this isn't a good time. Call me later in the week and I'll try to meet you for lunch or something.” Karl held the door open for his ex-wife.
Vaughn took one last look at Shy before rolling her eyes and walking toward the door. Jealousy had snuck up on her at lightning speed. If she had any chance at getting Karl back, her game had to be stepped up. Shy was going to be a challenge. “Okay Pooches, I'll talk with you soon.” Vaughn called Karl by her nickname for him. The peck on the cheek she gave him was purely for Shy's benefit.
Karl closed the door behind Vaughn and inhaled deeply. He could only image Shy's wrath. Her attitude alone could be intimidating. Shy stood with her hands on her hips and fully loaded with questions. She loved Karl with all of her heart but would be damned if any man played her.
“So, why the fuck was she here?”
Prince, Jayden, and Quincy sat playing
Mortal Kombat 3
in the family room. All of the food they ate had them feeling lazy. It was like old times. Prince and Jayden argued about nothing and Quincy refereed. There were times when they could all get along.
“Is everything cool with Unc?” Quincy inquired.
“Yeah, he's cool,” Prince replied.
“Did he ask you about the hit on Raequan?” Jayden probed.
“And you know it. He didn't come out and ask if I was behind it. He just assumes it was me by process of elimination. Unc understands why it had to happen. Everything is good,” Prince promised.
“Good, it can never surface that I was behind Raequan being put down. No one can ever find out that there are two young-minded hustlers in the family.” Jayden laughed.
Urban Books, LLC
78 East Industry Court
Deer Park, NY 11729
 
Young-Minded Hustler Copyright © 2012 Tysha
 
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.
ISBN: 978-1-6228-6095-1
 
 
This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.
 
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