Last Laugh Page 4

  “Because, he was set to testify against Andre which would have spilled over to you. In essence, the prosecution seems to think that’s your motive to have McKenzey released.”

  “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. You don’t believe that bullshit do you?”

  “No. Of course not, and I have the evidence to disprove some of that.”

  “Like?”

  “Here’s the short version, it’s expressed fully in the motion. They say that you created a self-published book and in it you surreptitiously inserted the goods to instruct McKenzey on how to escape. I have a copy of the content, and I did request to see the publisher. It was printed by a print on Demand Company named, Createspace. I subpoenaed the IP address from the company, and found that it came from a person that is dead. Found in a Boston hotel just three days after McKenzey’s escape. And guess what, hotel security has McKenzey on camera with the man just before he was found dead.”

  “So you’re thinking that McKenzey killed the very man that helped him. Wow.”

  “And get this. My investigators are looking into this man, and searching for McKenzey. I want to find and capture him.”

  “Okay, Ravonne, but in the meantime, I am stuck here.”

  “Come on, man. Bail is out of the question. We’re lucky that Andre is still out. Hell, he’s bent on kidnapping you if they transfer you back to the feds.”

  “He’s so damn, dumb. Tell that fool not to complicate my life. I am fine. Have him leave me the fuck alone with his silliness. Who fucking thinks like that?”

  “Well obviously him. But I think he knows better. We need to adjourn here, because I have to get this motion filed today, as it’s the very last day to submit motions prior to trial.”

  “Oh, great. They’ll hate you for this.”

  “No, they’ve been hated me. This just prompts them to keep at it while respecting me.”

  11

  PHILADELPHIA,

  JOHN B. KELLY ELEMENTARY SCHOOL

  Recess was typically a time for fun and a brief break from the classroom, but that wasn’t the case for Amir. His second grade experience had been marked by his father’s arrest, and now the news briefing on his father being the subject of a riot heightened the attention that he received.

  Amir was sliding down the sliding board when he notice Mason was at the bottom blocking him from getting there. He saw the bully there, and did not stop his momentum to prevent himself from slamming into Mason. In fact, on impact he stiffened his legs to make sure that they slammed into the boy and knocked him down.

  Mason was slammed to the ground and immediately hopped up. He jumped right into Amir’s face and then pushed him. He said, “Your dad is a tough guy in jail, but you’re just a pussy.”

  Amir stumbled back, and stared at his attacker. A few other kids that had been Mason’s previous victims looked on and prayed for Amir. He was a quiet smart kid that didn’t bother anyone, but wasn’t going to be bullied.

  Pulling out his cell phone, Amir called his mom. He knew that using the phone in school was prohibited, except when there was an emergency.

  “Oh, you have a cell phone, too?” Mason asked Amir. “Let me get that,” he said and reached out for it.

  Amir backed away, and said to him mom, “Mom, this kid Mason is messing with me. I don’t want to get into trouble.”

  “You’re not talking to your mom, you big baby,” Mason said.

  “You hear him, mom,” Amir said, and pushed Mason’s hand away from the phone. “Okay, mom. I have to go.” Amir hung up the phone, and told Mason, “Please leave me alone. I don’t want to fight you.”

  “Awe, he’s scared,” another kid said, trying to urge Mason to take his bullying to a new height.

  “But, if you put your hands on me, I am going to fuck you up,” Amir said, just like his mother had told him to say. She warned him to have courage, and let the bully know that he didn’t want to fight, but if he hit him, he would hit him back, simple as that. She was on her way to the school.

  “Oh, you cursed at me, punk?” Mason said and threw a punch at Amir.

  Amir grabbed his hand and pulled Mason so hard and slammed him to the ground. He then began to kick him in his midsection as he chanted obscenities.

  “Hey. Stop that,” yelled a school assistant teacher. “Amir Bezel, you stop kicking him right now,” she said and yanked Amir very hard.

  “That hurt,” Amir said calmly. “Don’t hit me, lady. I’m telling my mom.”

  “You can tell her from the principal’s office. Why were you kicking him?”

  “Miss Michaels, he was trying to bully me.”

  “Oh, he was bullying you, but I saw you kicking him,” she said and lifted Mason off the ground.

  “I wasn’t bullying him, ma’am,” Mason said trying to produce tears.

  “Well, both of you are going to the office to sort this out,” Miss Michaels said and grabbed both of their hands.

  “But, I didn’t do anything,” Amir said. “He tried to hit me first.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Mason said.

  “Enough,” she told them both as they entered the school. “Let’s talk about it in the office. You two are going to be suspended.”

  12

  PHILADELPHIA, CENTER CITY BATH HOUSE

  McKenzey pulled his towel a little tighter as he walked from the shower through the halls of the salacious men’s only bath house. He had bought an eight hour room, which he planned to renew for a few days. Despite the six year old video footage of him donning pink panties while forcing a drug dealer to drink cat’s blood, no one in law enforcement would expect him to be planning his revenge on the Bezel Brother’s in a gay bath house.

  He moved through the bath house hallway and peaked into a few men’s room that had their doors cracked. Some slept nude, some masturbated, and some were having sex. But he was not there for any of that. From there he could cross dress. Get into full drag and no one would pay him any attention. Perhaps someone would, but no one looking to put him back behind bars.

  Slipping into his room, McKenzey sat on the bed and smiled. His mind was clear as he lotion his body and looked into the mirror that covered the walls of the tuna fish can sized room. He ran his hands along his beard and frowned. It had to go, and he’d miss it. Steve Jobs inspired his beard that worked so well in Boston; but in Philadelphia, he was prepared for a whole new look. Before that though, he wanted to enjoy sex with his beard still on his face. He could do special sexual things with it.

  Roaming the hallways again, he looked into a room and saw a nice petite, black, man lying in wait for a sexual encounter. McKenzey lightly knocked on the door, and stepped inside after an inviting nod. He scanned the room and noticed a badge sitting on the small table in the room.

  Smiling McKenzey asked, “Oh, you’re a cop?”

  “No, don’t worry, I am not a cop,” the man said and slid his badge under his clothes. “I am just a US Attorney. I prosecute. Not arrest.”

  “Even better,” McKenzey said, and his plans immediately changed.

  13

  PHILADELPHIA, NORTH PHILADELPHIA

  Andre was parked at the end of the 17th Street with a gun on his waist band. He had three of his goons in the car with him. These were the three men that kept his drug empire thriving while he was incarcerated. They had no idea that they were about to play a pivotal role in Andre’s plan to kidnap Kareem from prison custody. He was set on kidnapping his brother, and no amount of common sense could stop him.

  “What the fuck you got us all in the wheel for?” Dook asked.

  “Yeah, you know these feds waiting to see us all together,” Mack said. He was the closest to Andre, but he wasn’t a flunky. He said what was on his mind, and asked all kinds of dumb questions. He kept the team on their toes with his asinine inquiries.

  “Man, y’all shut the fuck up,” Andre said and pulled off. “Ain’t no fucking feds on us. Fall back with that,” he said, as they crossed Jefferson Street.
“I need y’all to work with me to do the unthinkable.”

  “What the fuck is that, Pinky?” Rock asked. “‘Cause we know that Brain is in jail,” he added referring to Kareem. Everyone assumed that Kareem was the mastermind, and that Andre just went along with him.

  “You fools swear Kareem is the smart one,” Dre said, and then the whole car burst into laughter.

  “Y’all laugh now. I have played a key part in this operation believe that. I give my brother credit where it’s due because I respect and admire him. Trust me, though. I have made some moves that shocked him, and made him smile. With all that being said, Kareem is what I need help with.”

  “Man, he in jail making the news. Can’t stay out of bullshit,” Dook said. “What he need commissary money?”

  “That’s just it. We are going to get him out of there,” Andre said and turned onto Broad Street. “And you know damn well he don’t need any money in there.”

  “See that shit. Only Pinky would be saying this. We’re in Philly, not Hollywood. We’re not breaking anyone out of prison. What the fuck kinda high are you on?” That was Rock. He was severely irked, and tired of being on Andre’s team. He had been looking for a way out, but he needed the money or Andre’s drug connections.

  “That’s the thing. We’re not going to break him out.”

  “Aw man. I wanted in on that,” Mack said. He foolishly would have been down with anything that Andre suggested. He worked hard to prove his loyalty and no matter how dumb something seemed, Mack was with it.

  “We’re going to take down the Marshall’s van that transports him out of the House of Corrections back to FDC. You know after this riot situation, they are going to deem him a risk for the county jail and have the feds come get his ass.”

  Dook said, “And when they make that move, we’re going to make ours.” He slammed his hand on the dash board and smiled. “Yes, I’ve been waiting for some shit like this.”

  “Man, y’all are high as a mutha fucka. I am not getting into that,” Rock said. “Fuck outta here. I am not going to jail or getting in a shootout with no damn police to break him outta jail. Ain’t no one ever break my ass out of state or county jail. Fuck dat.”

  “Oh, okay,” Andre said and turned onto Cumberland, a small one-way street. He pulled his car over and hopped out of the front seat. Opening the back door, Andre went into his waistband and pulled out a gun. He grabbed the back of Rock’s head, and pressed his gun hard against his temple. “Let me tell you this, pussy boy. I had enough of you acting like a little bitch all the time. Having these hissy fits like you’re some fucking diva. If you wasn’t my son’s uncle, I’d scatter ya brains all over this fucking rental car.” He then pulled his gun back, leaving a bruise on Rock’s face, before pulling him out the car. “Empty ya fucking pockets, lame,” Andre said, and pushed Rock hard against the car. He kept his gun out, but had it at his waist looking for a reason to shoot him.

  “Come on, man,” Rock said. “Don’t do shit that you’ll regret.”

  “Regret what? What the fuck are you going to do to me, pussy? I ain’t trying to hear shit. Throw ya money and wallet on the fucking roof.”

  Reluctantly, Rock complied and huffed. From the roof, Andre collected $1,923.00 and a few bags of weed.

  “Thanks,” Andre said, and then added, “Find ya way home.” As he got back into the car and pulled off. “Mack, I am going to let you off a little easy. You can get out now, if you’re not about that life.”

  “I am good man,” Mack said. “I’m in. You already know.”

  “Good, let’s make it happen then,” he said and raised the music.

  * * *

  DEA Agent Yolanda Monroe pulled in front of Rock as he walked down Broad Street. She was not in a police uniform, as she hopped out of her car and walked toward the entry of the diner on the corner of Broad and Cumberland Streets. Despite his situation, he managed to stare at her enough to capture her attention. After all, that was her intent. She had watched the subject of her undercover investigation place a gun in Rock’s face, and knew that was her chance to make her move on someone in Andre’s camp. Finally, my investigation is picking up.

  “Damn, take a picture,” she said and smiled. She was a regular black woman that knew how to flirt with a man. She hadn’t lost her svelte figure or her innate ghetto nature since she joined the DEA force, and she planned on using it all to lure Rock into her trap.

  “Pose for me,” the playboy replied and looked at her with a blank stare. “You’re about to eat in that dump?” he asked, and frowned.

  “I love it here,” she said, and posed. “Take a pic,” she added, pushing her ass out further to get his attention.

  “I like that,” he said. “I don’t really want a picture, though.”

  “I bet.” Yolanda looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

  “If you’re driving, how about you take me to my crib...”

  She cut him off. “Come on, I ain’t no whore. I ain’t trying to fuck you.”

  “I don’t want you to be my freak, yet,” he said and walked closer to her. He put a hand on her shoulder and said, “How about you take me to my house to get some cash. I left my wallet home. And I can take you to a real lunch.”

  She smiled and loved that he remained suave, although he had just had a gun in his face and was robbed. She knew that he was rattled and shaken, but he kept his cool and she hated that criminals could adapt to any situation. She had no idea about the circumstances of what had just happened in the car, but she was determined to find out.

  “Yes, we can do that since you have all of this charm.”

  “Good. Let’s go,” he said. He didn’t even ask her name.

  * * *

  After being held up in a hotel in downtown Philadelphia, Tasha was beginning to enjoy the freedom of being away from Andre. While she missed her son, she knew that it was best to leave him in his father’s care, so that she could pull herself together. She was steadily falling out of love with her high school sweetheart, and was no longer upset about it.

  In the beginning it had confused her, and she could not understand her feelings, but Andre was not making her change her mind. She had put up with his drug dealing and had his son at 17. Later, she moved to New York City with him and helped him through Columbia University, but that loving gesture had been wasted, when one of Agent McKenzey’s men broke into their home and tried to kill them and their son. Moving back to Philadelphia, and him getting arrested only made matters worse. She was there for him while he served his time in pre-trial, and upon his release she expected him to be a family man. That didn’t happen, she had had enough, and there she was in a hotel with her clothing trying to figure out her next move.

  The Palomar Hotel sat at the corner of 5th and Chestnut Streets, and Tasha enjoyed the view. From the floor to ceiling windows, she looked down at the Liberty Bell, and thought about her own freedom from Andre. Many visitors were on the lawn surrounding the bell and taking pictures of it from outside. They took pictures of Independence Hall, and that also forced her to wonder about being independent.

  Unfortunately, Tasha never had a job, and had no skills to even get one. I’d have to start from the bottom, she thought. Maybe, I need to just apply to college, and start my life free and independent from Andre Bezel. Take my son, and get out of here. Where the hell was my mom when I needed her?

  She looked over at the hotel desk, walked over to it and grabbed the hotel book. She opened and flipped through a few pages before she picked up the hotel telephone.

  When the front desk answered, she said, “Can you connect me to spa?” It was time for her to make the best of her time. And work diligently to get her life in order. But first, I am going to get me a good massage and mentally piece this together.

  14

  PHILADELPHIA, BATH HOUSE

  Assistant United States Attorney, Darryl Jones was shocked. Heavily sedated from a drug, bound and gagged. He moaned loudly, but his cries for help were ignore
d. The other bath house attendees thought that he was in a sexual heaven. He squirmed and was able to roll onto the floor while tied to the flimsy mattress. He used his feet to push his way closer to freedom.

  His head hit the door. Darryl could not see, but he did bang his head on the door several times. After five minutes of incessant banging there was a tap on the other side.

  “Hey, knock it off in there,” someone said walking past. The man was totally nude. He then said, “He’s been moaning loudly for 15 minutes,” to someone else. “I want a part of that action.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard it too, and now he’s banging on the door. Maybe he is hurt.”

  “Yeah, perhaps? Should I report it?”

  “Sure why not. And afterwards meet me in the shower room. I need to do some moaning.”

  “No doubt,” the man said, and tapped his new friend’s ass with a towel.

  15

  PHILADELPHIA, EAST FALLS AFTER 5

  When Yolanda pulled up to Rock’s apartment she looked around and smiled. It was a nice area, and she envisioned her DEA handler allowing her to sleep with Rock and just live it up, while she got closer to the prize: Andre Bezel. She wanted desperately to know why a gun was pressed all in his face by his supposed pal. At that point her investigation led her to understand that Rock was very close to Andre.

  “You can pull over here.” He pointed to a spot in a gas station parking lot. “What’s your name again?”

  She pretended to be so busy parking that she could not speak. She thought of a name as she parked. She did not expect to be in contact with him for so long, but was ready to improvise.

  “Michelle,” she said and put the car in park. “Why am I pulled over at a gas station? You live here at the station?” She asked like a bimbo. She planned to dumb herself down so that he perceived her as gullible.