Cartier Cartel (15 page)

"Here, Monya, stuff this in your jacket!" She reached out to Monya.

"Huh?" Monya was still in another world, grasping with what she had
done.

"Hurry up and listen to me or we're both going to jail," Cartier hurried,
trying to stay on point. She didn't have time for Monya's feeling. She wanted
to do what had to be done and worry about the rest later when they were safe
and sound. "Stuff this in your jacket and put your hood over your head."

Cartier wiped the knife on the back of Donnie's shirt, stuffed it in the
sleeve of her jacket, put her hood over her head, and both girls calmly walked
out of the alleyway. They knew someone probably heard the shot and would
be calling the police soon, but they were in Brooklyn and Cartier knew the
cops wouldn't be rushing to respond fast. Still, she decided to stay on the side
of caution by exiting quickly.

Her mind was reeling. Once again, she had underestimated the streets
and put her and her friend in danger. She had no idea Monya had snuck a knife out of the house and she certainly didn't think Monya had the guts to use it.
But the more she thought about it, the more it made sense to her. Monya was
the scariest one in the crew, and she hated fighting and altercations. If anyone
would make sure she had a weapon, it was Monya. Cartier realized what she
asked Monya to do was way over her head.

Once they were safe inside the confines of the apartment, Cartier sprang
into action. She ensured they both washed their hands thoroughly. Then
she grabbed several garbage bags from underneath the kitchen sink. She led
Monya to her bedroom.

"Stand exactly where you are and strip off all your clothes," Cartier
told Monya. "Put everything inside this bag." She laid a bag on her bed for
Monya.

Monya remained quiet. She refused to say a word. She began stripping as
Cartier had told her to do.

Cartier began doing the same. The front of her jacket was soiled with
Donnie's blood. All the evidence of the crime was going inside the plastic bags.

"What are you doing with that jewelry?" Monya asked as Cartier began
to dump it inside of the bag.

Cartier looked at her, glad she was snapping out of her temporary comalike condition. "We gotta get rid of it," Cartier explained. "If the police comes
around asking questions, or get a search warrant and find it, then we're going
to jail for the rest of our lives."

"Cartier, ain't nobody see us do nothing," Monya reasoned. "We could
sell his jewelry and add that to our stash."

"No Monya," Cartier began shaking her head. "I don't think it's wise. We
can't afford to be greedy, that's how you get caught"

"Then why did you take it?"

"So the police will think he got robbed and murdered," Cartier continue
to explain. "If this were a movie, this move is what would get us caught"

"But this ain't the movies!" Monya's voice raised an octave. "And there ain't no CSI team coming up in the hood looking for trace evidence and hair
samples to solve no murder in Brooklyn. This is the hood and people get
murdered. That's the price we pay. They don't give a fuck about no dead drug
dealer. A million motherfuckers could have wanted him dead and our names
are at the bottom of the totem pole."

Cartier exhaled. And against her better judgment, she thought about the
events of the past few years. Monya was right. She personally had heard of
at least nine murders in her hood and not one had been solved. And out of
those nine murders, six of them weren't a whodunit. The whole hood knew
who committed most of those murders, and yet nothing. No arrest.

"OK, we'll keep the jewelry and get rid of our clothes," Cartier agreed.
"But we gotta sell it off as soon as possible."

Cartier couldn't believe she actually saw a smile form on Monya's face.
She didn't know what to think. The last thing she thought she would see
tonight was a smile from Monya after she had just murdered a man.

Cartier tied up both bags and they took turns getting in the shower.
Monya thought this was stupid too, but didn't want to hear Cartier's mouth.
Once they got dressed, Cartier washed off the front doorknob with bleach,
poured bleach down the bathtub's drain to wash away any trace evidence, in
case any of Donnie's blood or hair was on her, and wiped off the bathroom
and kitchen's faucets. After she was satisfied she'd done all she could, she and
Monya left with the bags in tow.

As the girls walked down the building's staircase, one of Cartier's neighbors
stopped them. "What y'all selling?" the heavyset brown female asked.

"Ummm, we taking this stuff to Bedstuy," Cartier replied.

"I thought you girls stopped boosting," the woman stated.

"We did, but this is some leftover shit we had lingering around."

"Well, why go all the way over to Bedstuy, when you could get a sell right
here? Come inside my apartment, I got a few dollars."

Theyboth hesitated. "We cool," Cartier said. "We already have the money for this stuff, so we gotta go. But if we go back out, we'll stop by."

Cartier and Monya took a cab to East New York and dumped the bags in
an alleyway dumpster in the Cypress projects. The cold night air put an eerie
feeling inside the pit of Cartier's stomach. She knew it was a new day, a new
beginning. She just hoped they survived it.

When they returned to the block, they had the crowd standing at the
entranceway of the alley, the same alley they had been in several hours prior.
The police had the alleyway and the sidewalk taped off with crime scene tape.
The yellow tape was a solemn reminder of what had transpired. Neither one
of them realized it, but their eyes were stretched open wide like saucers.

Cartier and Monya inched closer to the crowd. From where they stood,
they could see Donnie lying stiffly on the ground with a white sheet on top
of him. Cartier looked at Monya when she saw the forensics team snapping
pictures and the meat wagon waiting to haul him away.

Shanine and Lil Momma were among the spectators. The girls all looked
at each other. Lil Momma gave Cartier a knowing nod as if to say, I know what
happened here.

Cartier was paranoid. Many thoughts raced through her head. Will Lil
Momma and Shanine be a problem in the future? Will the forensics team find
something that leads back to me and Monya? Did anyone see Monya run into the
alley, or see her enter the alley, or see both of us leave the alley? It was the age of
technology and she knew someone could have recorded the fight between
her and Donnie on a camcorder, or Monya ultimately stabbing Donnie to
death. Cartier was so deep into her thought, she was completely caught off
guard when someone yanked her out of the crowd.

"Let's walk," Jason demanded as a startled look displayed across
Cartier's face.

"Chill!" she retorted and wiggled free. "I'm coming:

They both walked down the block and he motioned for Cartier to get
inside of his Pathfinder.

"What the fuck happened to Donnie?" Jason demanded to know.

"You tell me"

Jason wasn't down for any bullshit. He loved Cartier, but even love had
its limits. "Cartier, don't play stupid with me, dammit," Jason calmly stated.
"You ask me to get the nigga over here and when I come through, someone's
done smashed him off? Who the fuck you get to take him out and why the
fuck you got me involved in this bullshit?"

"I'm telling you I ain't have shit to do with this," she lied. "Come on, you
know me better than that. I would never put you in the middle of no bullshit.
And besides, what niggas I got that will body somebody for me? The only
nigga I know that would be down for me is you, and you didn't do it"

Jason thought for a minute. He was a reasonable man and figured that
Cartier wouldn't play him dirty. But no matter how you slice it, he was
probably one of the last, if not the last call on Donnie's cell. The last thing
Jason wanted or needed was po-po rolling up on him talking about let's talk.
That thought alone made his stomach chum.

"Yo, where you coming from anyway?" he asked casually. "Did you even
meet Donnie?"

"We were supposed to meet Donnie, then things got fucked up. Monya
and I had it out with Shanine and Lil Momma-"

"I thought they were y'all homegirls" Jason interrupted. "What y'all
beefin' about?"

"They both got issues with me, talking about I'm bossy and shit like that"

"Oh, that girly shit. They just jealous of you, ma. Don't let that shit get
to you."

Cartier shrugged her shoulders. "It's all good though 'cause I'ma show
them that they fucked up not being in the Cartel. They can't get any money
without me."

"That's right. That's how you do it. Show those bitches who's boss," Jason
couldn't help himself. Cartier could do no wrong in his eyes. He just wished she could see that he was the man for him. As they sat there, they watched
the meat wagon pull away with Donnie's body. They both sat in silence for
different reasons.

"You don't want to go get something to eat?"Jason asked.

"Nah, I'm good. I gotta go and check on my moms. You know she's pregnant
and by now, I'm sure her nosey ass done heard what happened. I'll have to go
and fill her in."

Cartier was glad to escape the minor interrogation inside Jason's ride. She
walked briskly to Monya and gave her a look. As they both walked toward
Cartier's apartment, she whispered, "Yo, you know we can't tell anyone what
happened, right?"

"You don't have to tell me that ... I'm the one who killed him. Do you
think I'm stupid?"

"Of course not, just act normal and we should be fine. Didn't anybody see
nothing so I'm sure we straight," Cartier tried reassuring Monya. In actuality,
she was also trying to reassure herself. "Monya, I'm trying to be strong and I
don't know how you're holding up, but I can't get my hands to stop shaking."

Cartier pulled her hands from deep inside her ski jacket. They were cold
and clammy, and trembling from nerves.

For the first time in their lives, Monya saw something she had never seen
in her friend's face-fear.

"Cartier, get a hold of yourself," Monya said. "By this time next week, we'll
be fine. OK? I promise. I love you."

"I love you, too."

That night, Cartier went home and gave her mother the biggest hug she
could muster.

t took one week before Barn was well enough to receive visitors. All four
girls decided to visit Barn as a cohesive group. Although they still weren't
speaking, they deemed it important to behave in front of Bam. They all agreed
she had been through enough.

As the girls walked in, the two detectives they had met before were
walking out. They nodded their heads to the Cartel, who refused to return
the acknowledgment.

Barn was still fucked up. Her right eye was scarred permanently and was
only half opened. She had several missing teeth, bald spots on her head, and
as soon as she opened her mouth, Cartier knew she had brain damage.

"H-h-h-hi f-f-f-friends," she stuttered and smiled a toothless grin. She
looked terrible, squeamish to the sight. Cartier and Lil Momma, although no
longer friends, exchanged fearful glances. "S-s-s-so happy t-t-t-to s-s-s-see."