Cheaper to Keep Her (part 1) Page 20

  played. I deserved better but I had even dogged myself by being head over heels for a lowlife with

  money and status. I had been something I despised in life—a fool.

  “I just need you to give me al of the information about everything Duke has or is into,” Neeko

  continued. “Whatever you know could help me. I am going to fol ow that muthafucka’s every move.

  I’m going to do some research on every business venture and money-making plan he got going on.

  I’m going to get the real evidence . . . the evidence that wil set you free and put the real criminals

  behind bars. Once I have them by the fucking throats, I wil bring the information to your lawyer to get

  you freed and the tables wil final y turn on Duke. He thinks he is untouchable. But my daddy used to

  say, ‘Dirty is what dirty does.’ And Lynise, it’s time Duke gets a taste of his own dirty.”

  I saw something I liked in Neeko’s eyes. It was a certain seriousness I had never seen in his eyes

  before. Al of this could only bode wel for me. As hard as it was for me to trust anyone, I had to trust

  Neeko. He may actual y be my ticket out of this place.

  “Wel , I can give you al of the information I have. I had a lot of copies stored in a safety deposit

  box at the bank. I only have a few of his bank account information in there though and I think I fucked

  al of those accounts up,” I said sadly.

  It was a good thing I had made copies of that stuff. I told Neeko what he would need to do in order

  to get some of the evidence from the box. Then I proceeded to tel Neeko everything I knew about

  Duke’s business dealings from the beginning. If Neeko was going to do me dirty like Duke and

  Diamond had done, I wouldn’t have known it. He seemed to sincerely want to help me. He was my

  only hope for getting out of jail.

  I just hoped he didn’t betray me too.

  But at this point, what did I have to lose.

  Dirty is as dirty does and I wanted that muthafucka, Duke, and that bitch, Diamond, to get just as

  muddy as me.

  Cheaper Keep Her Unique

  Chapter 33—Someway, Somehow

  I had waited for days and hadn’t heard anything from Neeko.

  I had to admit, patience wasn’t a virtue for me at the moment. The days were long, the time

  dragged slowly. I knew lonely and lonely knew me. We weren’t the best of friends, but we had to

  tolerate each other. Actual y, I had to tolerate the loneliness. But it made me feel good thinking

  loneliness had to tolerate me as wel .

  Depression was my real enemy and that was an understatement. I played out so many scenarios

  in my mind. In the first and frequently recurring scenario I believed Neeko was working for Duke and

  Diamond al along and he took the stuff I had in the safety deposit box and handed it al over to Duke.

  I cursed my lawyer for not agreeing to go get it in the first place. It was the scenario I couldn’t get out

  of my head. Trust was an issue but being incarcerated is a real thing and definitely makes the mind

  haywire. But I stil believed in a hope and a prayer . . . I didn’t have a choice. I needed to believe in

  something.

  On this day, I was being let out of my cel for my one-hour recreation. This time I asked the C.O. if I

  could get the newspaper or get library books. The C.O. was kind enough to give me the newspaper if

  I agreed to just stay in my bunk. She obviously didn’t feel like standing outside watching me do nothing

  for an hour. I agreed. I sat down on my hard ass bunk and opened the first page of the newspaper.

  “No! No! No! Oh God!” I screamed when I saw the top news headline. There was a large picture

  of Neeko splashed on the first page and the caption:

  Former Magic City Club Owner Found Murdered Execution Style

  Al the hope I had of getting out of jail was dashed away. I doubled over with stomach pains. I

  couldn’t even read the story because I already knew what had probably happened to Neeko. I also

  knew what had probably happened to al of my information that I had kept for safe keepings.

  In the days fol owing Neeko’s news, I didn’t eat and I barely slept. I had settled on the fact I would

  just take the plea deal and do time for something I didn’t do. When my lawyer final y came to visit me,

  I was prepared to tel him just that. He was looking surprisingly excited and I wasn’t in the fucking

  mood for him.

  “Lynise! I have something to tel you,” my lawyer said as I sat down. He had never referred to me

  by my first name.

  I stretched my sore, red-rimmed eyes to look at him. I was going to listen to him again before I told

  him I would take the plea deal.

  “We have an emergency hearing tomorrow to ask the judge to dismiss the case against you!” my

  lawyer sang out.

  “What?” I asked, very confused. Definitely more confused than excited. Doing time did that to you.

  “Somebody dropped a package off at my office with a bunch of mitigating evidence that puts

  holes in the prosecution’s case. Most of it points the finger at some very important city officials,” he

  said.

  “Neeko! Oh my God! He risked his life!” I shouted out through tears of joy.

  My lawyer looked at me strangely. He didn’t ask me for any explanations but he told me not to

  tel anyone in the jail about the new developments in my case.

  Hel , who could I tel . . . I was in solitary confinement and didn’t have a friend in the world?

  It was two days before we could get an emergency hearing. I didn’t sleep a total of three hours in

  those two days. When I appeared in a very secretive closed court session, my lawyer asked for an

  immediate dismissal of the case. The judge said she needed a few hours to review the new

  evidence and make a decision. I sat in the courthouse holding cel on the edge of my seat.

  “Ms. Washington, it’s time to go back to court,” a courtroom deputy cal ed out to me. I stood up on

  wobbly legs and let him cuff me and lead me into the courtroom. When I looked over at my lawyer I

  couldn’t tel anything from his facial expression. He had on a serious poker face. I gulped down a

  lump of fear.

  I stood behind the defense table and the judge looked over at me. I was wringing my hands in

  front of me, a sign of pure nerves.

  “Ms. Washington, after reviewing the newly received evidence and new development in this

  case,” the judge began. “And after a review of the evidence compiled against you, and the fact that

  that evidence may have been acquired on a warrant obtained without ful probable cause, it is this

  court’s position that the state’s case against you for the murder of Tania Blackmon, Brian Curtis and

  the list of crimes associated with the il egal adoption and sale of several unidentified babies, is

  dismissed without prejudice.”

  I fel backwards into the hard wooden chair. I was very weak and couldn’t believe it. I grabbed a

  hold of my lawyer and just started bal ing. The judge banged her gavel.

  “I am not finished counselor and Ms. Washington,” the judge admonished. My lawyer urged me to

  stand back up. “With this case being dismissed without prejudice, this arrest wil be expunged from

  your client’s records. However, in light of the seriousness of this case, your client is expected to

  make herself available to assist the prosecution in their case to find the real kil er or kil ers, and baby

  snatcher. Should your client refuse to cooperate, she cou
ld be held in contempt of this court, as it is

  my direct order for her to keep herself available. Is this understood?”

  “Yes, your honor! Yes, I wil do whatever it takes,” I cried out.

  “Good. Now go get on with your life and let’s work together to get whoever committed al of these

  crimes,” she said, cracking a little smile.

  I was in total agreement. I knew just where to look and just how to do that too.

  Duke Carrington had not seen the last of me.

  Cheaper to Keep Her Unique

  Epilogue

  The judge told me to make myself available to the cops and assist in finding the kil er and baby

  snatcher.

  Hel , I knew the kil er and baby snatcher. Probably half the Virginia Beach Police Department also

  knew Duke Carrington was the criminal mastermind behind the kil ings and baby snatching ring. So my

  thought as I was being released was, Why should I help people who already know the criminal

  responsible for the crimes.

  So why in the hel should I stay in Virginia Beach? It was a valid thought. Yes, I wanted my revenge

  against both Duke and Diamond, but who in the hel was I and how could I pul this off by myself. Plus,

  I had to be realistic. My thirst for vengeance was why I had spent time in the joint for shit I didn’t do.

  My original plan of turning that muthafucka in was the plan I should have stuck with. And walking out of

  this place I couldn’t believe I stil had this shit on my mind. I was certifiably crazy. I knew it. I had to be

  beyond stupid to want to go after Duke or even consider going after him and Diamond.

  And Diamond, that bitch! I could see and feel myself kicking that bitch’s ass. I know she would be

  surprised to see me. She would be even more surprise when I just walked up to her ass and cold

  punch that bitch in her face. I would repeatedly attack her face with my fists. She would think I was

  Muhammad Ali on her ass. And once I knocked that slut down, I would kick her entire body from head

  to toe.

  As much I knew I should just drop this shit, in my mind, I couldn’t. I needed some kind of

  vengeance . . . even if it was just kicking Diamond’s ass and suffering the wrath of Duke.

  That bitch owed me.

  The more I thought about the hel I went through being an inmate for the short time I was in jail, the

  more I realized I was lucky as hel to walk out of this hel hole. And this was jail. Prison would have

  ruined me. I got my ass kicked, my face fucked up, my cheek wired up because jailhouse hoes

  thought I kil ed young girls and stole babies. My reputation wasn’t shit now. And why? Because the

  one person I believed in, the one person I loved as family, the only family I thought I had said fuck me.

  Probably jealous over some petty shit like I once had Duke doing for me or choosing me over her

  worthless, slimy ass.

  As I walked down the long sidewalk of the Virginia Beach Jail for Women, I was surprised to see a

  black stretch Hummer. The windows of it had been tinted and the rims of it looked real y expensive. I

  wondered who the truck was there to pick up. I looked behind me and didn’t see anyone. Whoever it

  is, she is a lucky bitch, I thought.

  My mind was on catching a bus and possibly cal ing someone to loan me enough money for a

  motel room for a few nights.

  When I got to the end of the sidewalk, the back door opened and a female got out. I knew her,

  knew her wel . Her name was Kat, short for Katrina. She was Neeko’s main girl. They had two

  daughters together. The rumor was she was Neeko’s first dancer at the Magic City. He immediately

  had a thing for her. She stopped dancing and became Neeko’s manager. She managed the money,

  took care of the business end of their enterprise. And the most important part I remembered about

  her was she was a scary bitch.

  “Get in,” she commanded me. I was afraid, actual y very leery to get in the car with Neeko’s

  widow. Even though they weren’t legal y married, I was sure she thought of Neeko’s death as losing a

  husband.

  “Did you hear me?” she said. Her voice was cold and hard. My feet were stuck in cement. I

  couldn’t move.

  When the oversize driver got out of the truck, I decided to cooperate.

  I slid in and she came in after me, closing the door behind her. The truck immediately pul ed off. I

  sat with my back to the driver in the big truck. Sitting across from me was Kat and next to her was

  one of the finest men I had ever seen. Also, someone I had seen on several occasions at the Magic

  City.

  “You remember, Ms. Washington,” Mr. Tal and Sexy asked me. He stood at least six feet three,

  slender and fit. His hair was chopped short and what shadow of hair he had was visibly wavy.

  Combined with his neatly cut mustache that connected to his chin and facial hair made him someone

  I wish was in my bed every night.

  “Yes sir. They cal you The Bishop,” I replied. He was the kingpin. The master criminal that ran

  things from D.C. to the Big Apple . . . from sel ing drugs to running il egal upscale gambling

  establishments to money laundering, The Bishop was the man. He had visited the club on several

  occasions and he and Neeko were very friendly with each other.

  He smiled and slightly laughed. “Ms. Washington, my name is Buckley Bishop,” he said in a proper

  voice with perfect diction. “Neeko was my older brother.”

  My mouth dropped open. This was the last thing I would have thought. Why didn’t Neeko tel

  anyone? Why did he even sweat the shit Duke did to him? He could have cal ed his brother, The

  Bishop.

  “What you want from me?” I asked timidly.

  “Any and everything you can tel us about Duke Carrington and his operation,” Kat answered with

  attitude. She was now sporting dark sunglasses. I knew she was stil hurting. I understood . . .

  especial y if she knew Neeko was trying to help me.

  “Ms. Washington, Neeko and I have different fathers,” The Bishop volunteered. “But it didn’t stop

  him from being there for me when our father died. My mother was a junkie and our father died when I

  was eight. Neeko was nineteen then, the oldest of my dad’s five kids. He literal y worked two jobs and

  got his hustle on to take care of the four of us. Three of the four of us went to col ege, thanks to

  Neeko.”

  The Bishop stopped. He was staring in my eyes. It was a steady stare. No sadness. His eyes

  were soft, but very serious.

  “Bottom line, Ms. Washington,” he began again. “I want Duke Carrington . . . and I want you to tel

  me everything you know about him and his operation. And by everything, I mean everything. If his

  favorite color is black, tel me that, if he licks his own bal s, I want to know that too.

  “Neeko never asked me for anything. As you know, he would even let me and my entourage

  come to his club and let us have the run of the place without us spending a penny. Why? Because he

  was stil being the big brother.

  “So believe me when I tel you this . . . Mr. Carrington wil hate the day he ever heard of Lynise

  Aaliyah Washington. He wil final y understand what Johnnie Taylor meant by, it’s cheaper to keep her.

  ”

  I final y smiled. He was right! I looked at Kat, then at Mr. Buckley Bishop, aka The Bishop. I had my

  team. I was ripe for my revenge. The Bishop reached his hand out and I shook it. This was fol owed

  by Kat doi
ng the same thing.

  Duke, it would’ve been cheaper to keep me, bitch, I thought as I sat back and enjoyed the ride.

  Coming Soon

  Cheaper to Keep Her (part 2)

  Green Eyed Bandit