Teri Woods: True To The Game III

Gena tried to spit on Rik again. “I was going to give you the money, you son of a bitch!”

“This ain’t enough, Gena!”

“I woulda given you anything you asked for!” Gena shouted.

“So, you were going to do Gena in?” Quadir asked. “Instead of being a brother to her, and protecting her, and helping her, you were going to kill her and take the money that I left for her? Damn, nigga, that’s some fucked-up shit. I can’t believe you.”

Tears fell from Rik’s eyes. “Quadir, you were dead! And she had already moved on! She moved right on to the next dope boy. She wasn’t coming around us no more; she wasn’t being part of the family! She started fucking with that same nigga that did you! What the fuck, Qua? She wasn’t family no more, and she had betrayed you with them Junior Mafia muthafuckas!”

“Regardless, you ready to kill her, Rik?” Quadir asked.

“She betrayed you, Ock! For all we know, she set you up for them niggas! She could have been setting you up the whole time! Qua, she’s brand-new to the game! But me and you, we go back to the sandbox, homie! It was us who used to be break dancing up in my yard on cardboard boxes; it was us who got our first piece together! It’s me, black.”

The three of them turned toward the window when they saw the flashing red and blue lights outside. Gena raced to the window and peered outside. The patrolman was walking into the motel room office.

“It’s just one car,” Gena told him. “Somebody probably called about the disturbance.”

“I got a plan, Quadir,” Rik told him. “I got a connect who’s willing to send us so much snow, it’ll be like January the whole year around. All I need is the money to square up what I owe. After that, they cut on the faucet, and the dope runs like water. We just set up another crew and rake in the bread.”

Quadir clasped Gena’s hand and shook his head. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Quadir, what is you doing? I need that money!” Rik shouted.

Gena lifted the bag of money off the floor.

“Don’t tell me you not down, Quadir. I know you, nigga, I know how you get down for that paper, homie. Come on, baby boy, ride with me. I’m your brother, Ock. You gonna let me die, Qua? What part of the game is that?” asked Rik, not realizing that Quadir was going to murder him himself.

“Qua, we gotta go,” Gena said softly. She pulled him toward the door.

“Whatever happened to being true to that game?” Rik shouted.

Gena opened the motel room door.

“I need that money, Qua!”

“Rik, don’t.”

“I need that money!”

“Rik, don’t!”

“I need that fucking money!” Rik reached for his weapon.

Quadir squeezed the trigger of his weapon several times, sending Rik flying back onto the bed. Just as the gunshots rang through the silent night air, the officer ran out of the motel office. Gena yanked him out of the motel room, and they raced through the parking lot toward her car. The officer spotted them, Gena with a bag of drug money and Quadir with a loaded weapon in his hand.

“No, we’ll never make it past that cop!” Quadir shouted. He yanked her in the opposite direction. “My car is parked around back!”

“Freeze!” yelled the officer, and without hesitation began shooting at his runaway targets. What the fuck? This guy is trying to kill me, not capture me, Quadir thought as a bullet skimmed right by him. He could feel the bullets in the air zooming by him as he made his escape. As they made their way through the dark parking lot, they wove and ducked as the officer aimed directly for them.

Quadir and Gena raced around the rear of the motel, disappearing as the police officer ran over to his squad car and yelled through the radio for backup.

The race was now on. They both had to get out of town, and they had to do it tonight-Gena because she had a killer lurking somewhere in the city desperate to find her, and Quadir because he had just murdered his best friend in a motel room.

Gena climbed inside Quadir’s black Range Rover, and they raced down the street. She peered out the window, thinking about how many other lives would be lost because of that fucking money. She wished that it would all just burn to ashes.

“I loved him like a brother,” Quadir said softly.

“I know,” Gena told him. She placed her hand on top of his. “I did too. I never thought he would hurt me though.”

For the first time in a long time, she and her man were together once again, helping each other, comforting each other, and being down for each other. For the first time in a long time, the old Quadir and Gena were back.

Davis strolled into the motel room, followed by Ellington. Lieutenant Miles rose from his knee and gave them a cynical smile.

“Well, well, well, here we go again. A regular fucking family reunion we’re having. You two keep showing up at my crime scenes; I’m going to have you reassigned to homicide. So, what gives this time?”

Ellington and Davis exchanged glances.

“Don’t tell me, he was the other victim’s long-lost uncle, who also happened to be a coke dealer whom you were investigating.”

“He was our CI,” Davis told him.

“He was a confidential informant for Vice. Well, isn’t that just convenient. Could that be the reason that he’s no longer with us? I wonder. I mean, working for a couple of numb nuts like you two could definitely get somebody killed.”

“Lieutenant, may we take a look around?” Ellington asked.

“Don’t disturb anything; don’t touch anything. Forensics has just started their work.”

Ellington nodded. “Anybody check his pockets?”

Miles shook his head. “Forensics will handle it. He was DOA when the first officer arrived on the scene. Seems there was a disturbance call about the room. So a patrolman was already at the motel office when the shooting went down.”

“Do we have anyone in custody?” Ellington asked excitedly.

Miles shook his head. “The police officer ran out of the front office when he heard gunshots. He exchanged gunfire with the assailant before the assailant fled the scene. The police officer called for backup, then ran in here to the motel room, found the victim, tried CPR, and had someone call the paramedics. The police officer says that he couldn’t resuscitate the victim, so he immediately secured the room.”

“Which was rented to?” Davis asked.

“The victim.”

“What kinda commotion?” Ellington asked.

“A huge brawl. Thumping, crashing, banging, screaming, shouting.”

“Screaming? Like a woman screaming?”

Miles nodded. “You got it.”

“Any eyewitnesses?” Ellington asked.

“We’re running down leads right now, but besides the officer, none,” Miles told them. “And since you two are so interested in this case, why don’t you make yourselves useful and go and help interview some of the motel guests and see if anyone saw or heard anything?”

Ellington and Davis exchanged glances.

“And I want to know everything you find out,” Miles hollered.

Agents Covington, Harbinger, and Stokes strolled into the motel room.

“Well, well, well,” Miles shook his head and smiled. “Last time I checked, Philadelphia was not part of the District of Columbia, so murders here are within the jurisdiction of the state.”

“Right you are about that, Lieutenant.” Harbinger smiled.

“Then why in the hell do you keep showing up at my homicide scenes?” Miles asked angrily. “You know, they say that the perpetrator always returns to the scene of the crime.”

“Are you accusing me of something, Lieutenant?” Josh asked.

“If I was, you’d be in handcuffs,” Miles barked back.