Flippin' the Hustle (22 page)

Derrick
safely made it back to New York. The entire bus ride back, he contemplated his new course of action. There was no way he could vanish to Jamaica without news of him being tied to the well-known Jamaican's murder. He had contemplated Cuba or the Dominican Republic, yet, he still hadn't decided on which Caribbean retreat he was set on. After he retrieved the things that he had left at the house, he was out. Nothing could stop him now.

The lock on Dominique's door made her frantically fumble with it. She'd just come from Derrick's business in search of him. She desperately wanted to divulge what Gold had insinuated to her. Not only had Gold pinpointed her and Derrick's relationship, he also had made some farfetched allegation about Derrick murdering his partner RJ.

Although Dominique played as if she didn't know of anything that Gold spoke of, she knew that she needed to relay the information to Derrick immediately.

As soon as she stepped into her apartment, she began to dial Derrick's phone again. She had called his cell phone and home phone at least fifty times each to no avail, yet she continued to try.

“Please, Derrick. Please answer the phone,” she prayed.

* * * * *

Ishmah and Tareek pulled into the complex behind the silver Mercedes driven by the young, pretty woman. It was a long shot, but at that moment that's all they had. Lil' John's disclosure of Tree's car lot just before his death was all they had to go on.

Just as Ishmah had unnoticeably parked the car they were in, an undercover police car crept through the parking lot and parked just a few cars down from theirs.

Simultaneously, Ishmah and Tareek looked to one another, and then back in the direction of the unmarked car. Without speaking, they understood that this situation may have been a bit more than they were prepared for. Nonetheless, with the training that each of them had been afforded in the mountains of Pakistan, they were ready for anything.

* * * * *

Derrick pulled out of the hotel parking lot. He knew he needed to get out of New York immediately. Just as he got onto the interstate, his cell phone began to shimmy against the shiny wood grain console. He snatched the tiny device, eyeing the number and sighed. It was Dominique.

Derrick had made the decision that his last interlude with Dominique was his final interlude.

Once the phone ceased vibrating, he observed the small screen notifying him of numerous voicemail messages. Thinking that one of them may have belonged to Naria and Trina, he accessed the service. The first message captured his attention. “Derrick, this is Dominique! Douglas knows everything! Please call me as soon as you get this message.”

Derrick continued to listen to message after message pertaining to the same subject. Dominique was hysterical, so he returned her call to see exactly what she was warning him of.

Reluctantly, he dialed her number and listened as her voice came onto the line. “Derrick! I'm so glad you called me!”

Not wanting to waste valuable time, he blurted, “Not on the phone. We have to meet.”

“Yeah, I think we should talk in person.”

“Come to my house.”

Perplexed that he would invite her to his home, she asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I'm sure. Just hurry up, I've got some extremely important business to handle.”

“I'm on my way.”

* * * * *

Derrick didn't want Naria to suspect their vacation as being the permanent getaway that it was, so he intentionally left behind a few of their valuables in their home.

Rummaging through drawers, Derrick gathered numerous pieces of expensive jewelry and tossed them into a bag. Stepping into the large walk-in closet, he quickly removed a piece of the wall, revealing a built in safe. Turning the safe's combination with precision, he opened the door and grabbed an envelope full of US Bonds and his glitzy diamond studded chain and bracelet.

Stuffing the jewelry and bonds into the duffle bag that already contained nearly $300,000, Derrick quickly contemplated leaving at that very moment. However, his instincts told him that he at least needed to hear what Dominique had to say before he completely disappeared.

* * * * *

Dominique frantically maneuvered her car through the light night traffic. The only thing she knew was that she had to save Derrick before Gold attempted to tie him to RJ's murder. Dominique's mind was focused on nothing but Derrick. Taking the exit recklessly, she swerved around a car sitting at the light, nearly taking the rear of the car with her.

Gold desperately tried to keep up with Dominique. Had he known Derrick's whereabouts, he wouldn't have been speeding down the interstate like a maniac. He would've just went there and waited.

He knew that once he divulged his accusations to her, she'd immediately relay them to Derrick. This is what he counted on happening. What neither Dominique nor Derrick knew was that once they united, any and everything they said could and would be used against them.

Smiling sinisterly, Gold bore down on the gas pedal and watched Dominique's tail lights disappear into a long driveway.

* * * * *

Ishmah carefully tailed the two-car locomotive, speeding through Staten Island's back roads. He was careful not to arouse any suspicions on either of the cars they were trailing. Neither of the men knew who they were following, or where they were going, yet they felt that all roads would lead to the man they only knew as Tree.

Observing the car driven by the unidentified female take a left turn about a quarter of a mile ahead of them, Ishmah slowed almost to a crawl. He watched the man behind the wheel of the unmarked car do the same. Confident that neither of the drivers were aware of their pursuit, Ishmah turned the lights off on their car and cautiously followed in total darkness.

* * * * *

Derrick paced the corridor of his house impatiently, eyeing the road leading to his home. It wasn't until he noticed a set of headlights appear that he calmed his pace. As Dominique's Mercedes pull into his driveway, he unlocked the door and stepped out onto the porch. He had already tossed his duffle bag into his truck in preparation of his smooth getaway.

Dominique quickly exited her car and trotted onto the porch where Derrick stood. “Oh my God, Derrick! I'm so glad to see you!” She hugged him around his waist.

With an expressionless glare, Derrick dryly responded, “What did you have to tell me, Dominique?”

“Can we at least go inside?”

Derrick gripped her hand and led the way into the luxurious home.

Ogling the elaborate interior, Dominique spun around taking in the entire view.

Derrick took a seat on the couch and looked up at a visibly impressed Dominique. “Dominique! I told you I had some very important business to take care of! Now what is going on?”

Taking a deep breath, she said. “Tonight, Gold came to my house and . . .”

* * * * *

Deputy Director Douglas Gold sat behind the wheel of his car listening intently to every word of Dominique and Derrick captured by the tiny recording apparatus.

“So if he knows so much about us, why aren't you under some sort of investigation or in jail?”

“I don't know, Derrick, but he seems to think he has you pinned on the Jordan murder.”

“Psst! Shit, I was with you when RJ was murdered.”

“I know, but I couldn't tell him that. I simply denied everything.”

Frustrated at the direction their conversation was taking, Gold banged his fist against the steering wheel.

“Do you still have the tape of you and him?” Derrick's voice asked, instantly recapturing Gold's attention.

“Yes, I've got it. Why?”

“That's going to be your counter attack against any charges he may attempt to bring against you.”

“But what about you, Derrick?”

Gold sat there racking his brain for what tape the pair could have been speaking of.

Suddenly, there was a light tap on the car's window, nearly scaring Gold out of his skin. Abruptly turning his head, he noticed a light complexioned man standing with a smile.

Rolling the window down, Gold asked, “Yeah, can I do something for you?”

In an accent almost unrecognizable to Gold, the man replied, “Yes, sir. I ave a question fah you.”

* * * * *

After discreetly parking their car, Ishmah and Tareek checked and rechecked their weaponry, and then watched as the woman pulled into a driveway lined with luxury cars. There was one vehicle parked in the driveway that captured both men's attention, more than any of the others.

The silver Cadillac STSV that their informers had told them the man they knew as Tree drove, sat in the driveway of the extravagant home.

Both men went from investigators to huntsmen. Pointing toward the car that the unidentified man drove, Ishmah whispered, “Ak, go and take care of him, while I pay our friend Tree a visit.”

Tareek nodded and started off in the direction of the unmarked car parked a hundred feet from their own.

Once he got near the car, he slid his Taurus closer to his hip, and then casually walked up to the car and tapped on the window.

Noticing the shock register on the man's face, Tareek smiled.

Rolling the window down, the older white man asked, “Yeah, can I do something for you?”

In the deepest Middle Eastern accent attainable, Tareek replied, “Yeah, sure. I have a question fah you.” Pausing, Tareek focused his attention on the tiny device resting on the passenger seat, emitting crackling voices.

Tareek's hesitancy caused the older man to ask, “What is it you want to ask me?”

Smoothly, moving centimeters closer to the car's door, Tareek asked, “Ah you fah-mil-liar with Allah?”

“Huh?” he asked.

Moving just a few inches closer, Tareek flashed his smile once again. With cat-like speed he placed both his palms on either side of the man's head and quickly twisted. A feeble snap could be heard over the voices coming from the small electronic transmitter resting on the seat. Laying the dead man's head against the seat in an ordinary fashion, Tareek made the trek toward the residence of their unsuspecting victim.

* * * **

Derrick shook his head in despair. He couldn't believe the level of naiveté that Dominique had succumbed to. Looking down at her head as it bobbed up and down, he found it difficult to enjoy the sensations that her mouth was bestowing upon him. Although his plan was to disappear from her life forever, he had begun to feel sorry for her.

Gripping the cushions on the couch with force, he felt his fingers ripping into the soft leather, as his body spasmed.

Dominique continued to suck on his hard shaft, until Derrick's body ceased to flounder. Staring into his post-orgasmic, blissful face, she said, “I know you're going to give me some of my dick before you leave.”

Unable to verbally answer, Derrick's manhood answered for him as it twitched to attention within her grasp.

* * * * *

Ishmah had strategically approached the house in a manner undetected by the most advanced alarm and camera systems. Crouched low to the ground, he slowly slid up the far wall of the residence and peeked inside the large framed window.

All it took was one quick glance for him to determine that the room was completely empty. When he was ready to proceed with his plan of attack, the large empty room would be his point of entry. There were people in the residence, so he needed to find out how many, and where they were.

He pulled the compact, heat sensing eyewear from his coat pocket. Ishmah slid them over his eyes, causing everything to go from regular color-vision to a dim green. That is, until he swiveled his body three hundred and sixty degrees and focused on a small four-legged creature, which appeared in a bright orange and yellow in the distance.

Inwardly smiling, Ishmah continued his trek around the house in search of his prey.

* * * * *

Derrick positioned himself behind Dominique and teasingly rubbed the head of his penis just within the folds of her womanhood.

“Ooh, Derrick. Please put it in me, daddy,” she hissed.

Continuing to tantalize her, Derrick slowly eased his shaft into her already drenched pussy. Forcing as much of him into her as possible, he began to grind into her backside.

“Ooh, baby! Work your pussy!” she panted with every thrust that Derrick delivered. “Hmmm . . . Ba . . . by, you're . . . so deep!”

Derrick could feel every crevice of her pussy as he continued to fill her up with his massive tool. Increasing the velocity on his strokes, he began to beat her pussy up with long powerful strokes.

“Oh . . . My . . . God!” she yelled, punctuated by pleasure as an intense orgasm rumbled from her loins. “Baby! I'm . . . I'm . . . cumming!”

Derrick gripped her creamy hips as her body jerked. He continued to pound into her center. Unbeknownst to him, he wasn't the only one enjoying the tryst that he was participating in. Two sets of eyes analyzed the spectacle closely, and their intentions were to inflict a capricious death.

* * * * *

Tareek and Ishmah eyed the rendezvous playing before them. Although both men were for business, the performance they were watching was diverting.

Quickly snapping from his stupor, Ishmah nudged Tareek, and then whispered, “Keep an eye on the fornicating kafirs, Ak, while I go and check on a way to enter the house.” Before he turned to go, he pointed to the earpiece nestled in his ear. “Turn the volume up a little more. I had trouble hearing you before.” Without another word, he disappeared into the darkness.

Tareek had done a full tabulation on how many persons were present in the house, and the only two people present at the moment were involved in a vigorous bout of intercourse.

Retaking his position at the large framed window that he came upon when he first accosted the residence, Ishmah pulled out a small tool kit and went to work. With a small suction cup fastened to the window, he retrieved a metal object from his kit and began to make an incision into the glass.