Cheaper to Keep Her Part 3 (11 page)

In a matter of two and a half minutes, I had parked the rental truck at the end of the driveway and was at the back door knocking and waiting for this Manuel character to make the exchange.

When the door finally opened, a Puerto Rican looking cat appeared before me. He was average height, around five eight or nine, sporting a white tee, a pair of blue denim jeans and a pair of brown Timberland boots. While I was checking him out, he was checking me out as well.

“Are you Manuel?”

“That depends,” he smiled. “Who are you?” he turned the question around on me.

“No disrespect, sweetie. But I was told to drop off that truck in your driveway and wait for Manuel to give me a black bag, now if you ain’t Manuel, then will you tell him that someone is at the door waiting for him?”

He smiled. “Don't get bent out of shape, mommie! I’m Manuel,” he said and then he picked up a black bag from the floor behind the back door and handed it to me. “Here you go.”

Once I had the bag in my hand, I handed him the keys to the rental truck. “This is for you, it’s in the glove compartment,” ensuring I delivered the message Bishop wanted me to, and then I turned to leave.

“Hey, where is my girl, Bria? She’s the one who normally run this route,” he replied.

“I don't know,” I told him and kept walking back towards the front of the house where Bishop was parked.

Half way to the car where Bishop was, I couldn't help but notice how heavy the black bag was. When I rubbed my hand across the side of it, I knew I was carrying a lot of cash. I couldn't tell you how much it was, but it was a lot. And that’s all I needed to know.

As soon as I got back into the car with Bishop, he immediately grabbed the bag from me and stuffed it underneath the driver seat and then he drove off.

I was so excited about the money, I didn’t check to see if Sean was parked down the street watching me walk back to the car. My mind was on money. The entire trip back I was thinking about getting my hands on some of the cash in that bag. I didn’t know what kind of deal he had with Bria. But I did know she didn’t want for anything and she always talked about having her own money. I knew she wasn’t making bank as a beautician, so this was her second job, per se.

Getting a piece of the prize was suddenly on my mind. So much so I didn’t even check to see if Sean was behind us or anywhere in the vicinity when we made it back to the apartment.

Had I fucked up getting in bed with the Feds versus getting paid?

Back at the apartment, Bishop went into the bedroom and closed the door. He stayed in there for about fifteen minutes and then he returned to the living room where I was watching television. He had the black bag folded underneath his left armpit.

“I'll be back in thirty minutes, so be ready to go when I get back.”

“Alright,” I said with little enthusiasm.

To be frank about the situation, I was kind of glad he left me in the apartment. The way I was beginning to see him was an ugly sight. The thought of him using me to do his dirty work and take the place of Bria was mind blowing.

Manuel definitely confirmed my worst fear. To know that he was unaware of her kidnapping sent chills through my entire body. Why hadn't Bishop told Manuel about Bria's abduction? Did he have something to hide? I swear this picture Bishop was painting of himself was getting uglier by the moment.

While I sat there and tried to piece together this puzzle, there was a knock on the door.

Startled by the knocking, I got up from the sofa and answered the door. I wasn't surprised to see Sean at the door. But I was shocked that he would take the chance to come here when Bishop hadn’t been gone that long.

“Look, don't worry about that. I've got two female agents a couple of blocks from here monitoring who comes in and goes out of this place. And from what they told me, he's heading north on Mount Prospect Avenue.”

Overwhelmed by everything that was going on around me, I sighed at Sean and said, “Well, what do you want from me now?”

“I came here to make sure that you are okay.”

“Do I look like I’m okay? I mean, I am walking around with a wire stuck to my clothing. Which, of course, has put my life in danger.”

“Lynise, please calm down. You will be fine. We are less than one hundred feet away from you. So there is no way we will let any harm come upon you.”

“No, I couldn't. The incenses were too strong. They almost gave me a fucking headache, which is why I rolled down the driver side window.”

“I heard him tell you to tell the guy Manuel that the stuff was in the glove compartment. But did he indicate how much was in there?”

Sean chuckled at me as if he was amused by my comment. “I wasn't talking about the case itself. I was talking about the drop-off you just made.”

“No. He didn't admit to anything. Telling you he loved her and that they were really close, will not tell the judge or jury that he murdered her. Now it tells us that he had something to do with her disappearance. But we need more than that. We need something concrete, like her body with his DNA all over it or a confession. If we can't get that, then we are fighting an uphill battle.”

I stood there with the most disgusted expression I could muster up. I had no words for Sean. So the only thing that was left for me to do was to shake my head at him.

Noticing how upset I had become, he ended our little chat by saying, “It will all be over soon. Oh, and by the way, even though you couldn't get a confession, I commend you for getting him to give us an idea about whether or not she was still alive.”

“Oh, really! Is that it?” I replied sarcastically.

He smiled. “What else do you want? I’ve already given you a get-out-of-jail-free card. Be happy with that,” he mocked me and then he walked away.

I was burning up inside thinking about how the niggas with badges were more crooked than the niggas in the streets. Sean had just confirmed how they could care less about the well being of their informants. All they cared about was using them to make their cases and then they throw them to the fucking wolves.

I was sure he treated Bria the same way. And by that, I knew she was made to turn on her brother for those bastards. But guess what? Fuck them and their motherfucking case, because I was going to have the last fucking laugh.

As far as Bishop was concerned, I realized he was about Bishop. He didn’t give a fuck about me or the next bitch. And when it was all said and done, he’d figure out that I didn’t give a fuck about him too. It was all about Lynise from this day forward.

I’m not to be trusted!

Cheaper to Keep Her part 3 Unique

I Didn’t See This Coming – Chapter Twelve

Bishop returned an hour and a half later. I had taken a shower and changed into a pair of white jean shorts and a very colorful v-neck t-shirt. Normally, I would wear a pair of classy sandals with three to four inch heels. But after all the drama I had attracted from Bishop’s other woman, Keisha, and the Feds, I decided to wear Nike running sneakers, just in case I had to fight or make a run for it. Before I left the apartment, I made sure the wire was secure around the waistband of my jean shorts. I wasn’t about to have any mix-ups . . . because my life depended on it.

It was Thursday morning and Bishop’s idea to drive to the New York. I was really shocked when he jumped on the New Jersey Turnpike and headed north. One part of me was excited, but the other half of me became a little paranoid. I figured anything could happen to me in New York and there was nothing the Feds could do to stop it. Was he taking me there to test my loyalty to him once again? Or did he just plan to take a load off and show me a good time? Knowing that I didn’t have the slightest clue, I hoped and prayed that Sean or the other agents weren’t too far behind us.

Shortly after we arrived in New York, Bishop suggested we go to his favorite Japanese restaurant, Benihana. Japanese food was one of my favorites, so I welcomed the idea.

When we pulled up to the restaurant in downtown Manhattan, he handed one of the valet drivers his keys to the car and then we went inside. Everything from the food to the service was excellent. I hadn’t had this much fun in a very long time. Immediately after we left the restaurant Bishop took me on a tour of Manhattan and then we ended up driving to Harlem.

“I need to make a quick stop and then we’ll head back to Newark,” he told me.

My mind quickly went into overdrive when he told me he needed to make a quick stop. I wasn't stupid. I knew that meant he needed to either make a drug pickup or he needed to make contact with his drug connection. I had been with enough drug dealers to know that no one talked and made deals over the phone. Deals were made in person. So that's exactly what Bishop wanted to do.

I thought we would be going to one of the projects in the city, but I was wrong. Bishop had to meet his connection at this Cuban restaurant in Spanish Harlem. There were at least ten Hispanic men standing outside the restaurant. I could tell that some of them were runners and the other ones were the lookout. Some of them looked to be sixteen, while the others appeared to be eighteen or older. After Bishop exited the car, one of the guys escorted him into the restaurant. I sat there and watched as the operation unfolded.

My heart began to race while I sat in the car all alone. Between watching the guys standing outside the restaurant and watching the prostitutes working their magic on the opposite corner, I wondered whether Sean and/or the other agents followed us to the city, and whether or not they had this place under surveillance as well.

The traffic going in and out of this place was an easy target for the Feds. So I would hate to be in the area when the agents tried to shut it down. I could see these young guys pulling out all the stops to keep themselves from going down, which, at worse, would start a vicious war.

I twiddled my thumbs for a full twenty minutes while I waited for Bishop's return. And just when I was about to go inside the restaurant to see why it was taking him so long, he came walking back outside with a brown paper bag in hand, looking like he had just ordered a meal to go. He was smiling from ear to ear. If I hadn't known better, I would've thought that he'd just won the fucking lottery.

“What are you so happy about?” I asked the moment he got back into the car.

“I'm happy because today has been a prosperous day for me,” he replied and then he sat the brown paper bag on the floor in the back seat.

Since he left the car running while he was inside of the restaurant, he put the control stick in drive and then he pulled back on the road. “Ready to go back to Jersey?” he continued as he maneuvered in and out of traffic.

He reached over and rubbed my left side. As he worked his way up my thigh I knew he would try to stick his hand down the front of my shorts, so he could feel on my pussy and get it wet. But I grabbed his hand and stopped him before things got out of hand.

“No, don't do that. You know you're gonna get my panties soaked and wet,” I whined, trying to play hard to get.