The Glamorous Life (33 page)

O
nce Lynx was long gone, Bambi turned her stereo on at its top volume, practically causing the windows to vibrate. She searched and found all the hidden microphones planted by the police, carried them over to their van, and threw them in. “If it ain’t one thing, it’s another. Stay the
fuck
out of my house!”

The police only laughed at her. One of them leaned out the window and said, “Just tell us where your husband is; then you won’t have to worry about us anymore. Maybe he’s with his other woman, huh?”

“Yeah, he’s with your momma!” she answered.

Three hours after she marched back across the street to her house and slammed the door, they hauled her off for questioning.
She immediately called her and Lynx’s lawyer, Brent Jackson, one of Richmond’s toughest defense attorneys, and he had her back home before they could ask her the time.

After two more days of surveillance, the police drew the conclusion that she had no idea where Lynx was and if she did, she wasn’t saying. And finally the stakeout on Bambi ended.

CHAPTER 35

A Snitch’s Life

C
olumbo was down at the police station going crazy. He had been through every crack and crevice in Richmond, and he wanted to know how this slick cat had slipped through his fingers.

“People, tell me something! I’ve devoted a big part of my career to trying to corner this motherfucker, and now you people tell me you can’t find him? Richmond ain’t that big,” he yelled, and pounded his fist on the desk.

“Boss, maybe he ain’t in Richmond. Wasn’t he linked to DC?” the tall skinny cop standing over in the corner asked.

“Oh, he’s here somewhere. He ain’t that dumb to leave town—not with a live witness against him and not this quick anyway. He didn’t have any money in the house when we went there, his wife hasn’t been to the bank, he hasn’t been spotted with any of his homeboys—nah, he’s here somewhere hiding out. I’m going to find this motherfucker, get a conviction, and
put him away for life! I am not going to retire until I put this motherfucker into the jail or die trying.”

He snatched up his car keys.

“Where you going, boss?” someone asked.

“To pay Ronnie Shaler a little visit.”

Ronnie had just finished cleaning out his works and stashing his dope away when he heard a familiar rap on the door. Man, it could only be one motherfucker showing up at his door this time of day. He opened it up, and Columbo pushed past him.

“You’re under arrest, Ronnie,” Columbo said.

“Why the hell am I under arrest? I ain’t killed nobody,” Ronnie said, high as gas.

“No, you haven’t, but you’ll be dead before the week’s out sitting here. Your buddy Lynx is probably somewhere out there waiting for you to slip. I’ve been chasing this son of a bitch for over thirteen years. He’s the sneakiest, nastiest, meanest, ugliest, fastest, most dangerous murderous son of a bitch that I ever dreamt about, read about, heard talked about, or thought about. And I hear you know firsthand all about him. After all, you were his boy.” Columbo got up in his face, and Ronnie could smell his tobacco breath. “You know, there’s no turning back now! It’s all up to you to help me put him away.”

Ronnie knew all the stories about Lynx when it came to people crossing him. And more importantly he knew that the stories about Lynx were true and not folk tales. After all, they had run together. In a way Ronnie wished he had kept his mouth shut, but at the time, the ten-thousand-dollar reward for Lynx’s arrest had made it seem like the sweetest way to rid himself of Lynx and ensure that Lynx would not kill him for ripping him
off. He had thought that Lynx would plea the charge down and be locked away and he’d never have to take the stand against Lynx. Looking at the big picture, he realized that it was all junkie thinking. The money he’d stolen from Lynx for the most part had foolishly been spent trying to make up with Michelle and the remainder spent on getting high. With the money gone, all he had was his hundred-and-fifty-dollar-a-day undercover dope habit.

Columbo had blown his high.

“Look here, I can’t go into protective custody or whatever you got in mind,” Ronnie said. “With my lifestyle, police protection ain’t even a option.”

“Your lifestyle? You mean your dope habit.” Columbo smirked. “Funny, you don’t even look like a dope fiend, Ronnie.”

It was true. Ronnie was handsome, brown skinned, tall and slim. There were a few blemishes on his skin, but he was still fine. He hustled and maintained himself by the skin of his teeth. He had always been a sharp dresser and kept his wardrobe up to par. Before he had fallen victim to heroin, he had been into clothes so long that the stuff he wore was always a little ahead of everyone else. So even when he fell off, he still was wearing what was in. He had plenty of women because he had the dope dick, and he could go all night long if he wanted to. It drove the women crazy. But his dope dick also kept him in the doghouse with Michelle.

“Okay. Tell you what we can do. You have any family out of state you can go stay with until we can snag this cocksucker?” Columbo asked.

“Yeah! I got family in Durham, NC.”

“I’m going to send you and a couple of men on vacation down there. The state witness budget will cover it. My men
won’t crowd you.” Columbo was trying the best he could to work it out with Ronnie. After all, Ronnie was the piece of the puzzle that held his flimsy case together.

“There are things I like to do. I likes to party and play with the bitches! I don’t want yo boys around when I indulge,” Ronnie explained.

“My men see what I tell them to see. Just make sure you keep them close. You are very important to my career. I am going to retire after this,” Columbo then said, and spit a wad of tobacco into a cup. “You get packed up. My men will be here in an hour.”

He walked out the door, and Ronnie immediately started packing.

T
he next day Ronnie was in North Carolina, where he had plenty of family. Ronnie planned to party until he couldn’t stop. He had a couple of broads down there that were guaranteed to drop their drawers as soon as he arrived. And if they didn’t, that wasn’t any problem either because his brother, Dee, had all of the Durhamites and they sisters, mothers, aunts, cousins, and friends on lock. It wasn’t nothing for Dee to call up one or two ladies for his brother to have a little fun with.

But he had to get these detectives to leave him alone. One usually took the day shift, while the other took the night shift. It didn’t take long for them to realize that they had bitten off more than they could chew.

Ronnie set off over two dozen firecrackers in the safe house while the detectives were asleep. They hopped up and drew their guns, hit the floor, and started shooting. Ronnie thought
it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. That was the final straw for them, and at that point they said that Ronnie could do whatever he wanted as long as he checked in every day. The detectives stayed at the safe house and ordered food and pay-per-view movies.

CHAPTER 36

Putting in Work

A
s sweet as Columbo thought he was, he ultimately out-smarted himself. He thought that Lynx would not be stupid enough to contact Cook’em-up, and he didn’t have enough manpower left after putting a couple of officers with Ronnie to put a tail on Cook’em-up anyway. But Cook’em-up talked to Lynx on a regular. The pressure was on for Cook’em-up to locate Ronnie and make him see things their way. By the time Cook’em-up got to Ronnie’s apartment, it was apparent that he hadn’t been there in days and had left in a rush. Now there was definitely no doubt that Ronnie was the rat, for sure. Cook’emup touched base with Lynx, who told him, “Look, find that bitch of his. She runs her mouth a lot. I know she has his beeper number or cell phone number or something. But don’t push up on her with that wild-type shit. Use finesse! Play con to the broad. Give her some money and some dick, too.”

“Man, I spoke to yo people, and she found out where the bitch work. She described her to me like them chicks at the
beauty parlor described her. And she ain’t nothing nice. A broad like her I’ve got to hit from the back so I ain’t got to look at her. I heard she uglier than a gorilla,” Cook’em-up said to Lynx.

“I know her kind, dying for some attention. Why you think she talk so much? I bet you if you put that ghetto charm on her, she’ll tell you her whole life story and his, too.”

“You are probably right.”

“Man, I am telling you, right now, she is the link between him and us. She’s his weakest but our strongest for now! So make it happen.”

“You mean to tell me you want me to dick whip and romance this cave rat broad? Man, you lucky I got mad love for you, my nigga,” Cook’em-up said.

C
ook’em-up wasted no time to get close to the sexiest gorilla he had ever seen in his life.

Michelle worked in Food Lion in the deli section. She was one of the ugliest sisters he had ever met. She was blacker than coal, but she didn’t have the shine like coal; she had an ashy look like she’d never met lotion or Vaseline before. Bambi was black, but black and beautiful. Michelle was another story. She had craters all over her skin and looked like a pit bull in the face. Her teeth were buck, and she had the gall to have eight gold teeth, four on the top and four on the bottom. But she had a body that most women could only dream of having, and her tongue was pierced. Must be what kept Ronnie’s nose wide open, Cook’em-up thought.

Cook’em-up frowned when she came to take his order.

“Let me get a turkey and cheese sandwich dressed, please?”

Michelle made it and handed it to him. He gave her a twenty and told her, “Keep the change.”

“Please come again,” she said, flashing all her gold teeth.

“I will, trust me,” he said as he strolled off, never looking back.

The very next day, he returned.

“You came back,” she greeted him excitedly.

“Didn’t I tell you I was?” he asked. “Look, what time you get off?”

“Six,” she said eagerly.

“I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay.” Once again, he got a look at her gold-filled mouth.