Crazy Summer (26 page)

“You like that?” Mama Elizabeth asked, a few wrinkles forming at the corners of her mouth.

“You know I do. As a matter of fact, I love it!” She shook her head in wonderment. “Look at you, though.”

Summer and Mama Elizabeth sat across from one another with a fine Oakwood and glass coffee table separating them. Mama Elizabeth casually crossed her legs and placed one hand on her knee.

“Would you like anything to drink?”

“One wouldn’t hurt. What you got?” Summer replied.

Mama Elizabeth stood and quickly straightened her blouse. “You ever heard of Esprit de Courvoisier?” she asked while walking across the huge living room to a large marble octagon-shaped bar.

“Nah, but leave it up to you, I know it’s good.” 

She stood up also and walked over toward the bar. She took a seat on the cushioned stool and watched Mama Elizabeth pour two drinks.

“How are you progressing so far?”

“Well, I’ve only been home a few days, and I met this guy that’s supposed to be ghetto rich and all this.”

“Did you put the pussy on him?” Mama Elizabeth asked.

“Did I? The head, too,” Summer said, smiling.

They laughed in unison. Mama Elizabeth sat her drink down in front of her and handed Summer hers. Summer held her glass up toward Mama Elizabeth, and they touched glasses with a light clinking sound.

“It’s good to be home.”

“It’s good to have you here.” Mama Elizabeth’s eyes penetrated Summer’s.

They both sipped from their glass. Summer allowed the smooth Courvoisier to slide down her throat. She smacked her tiny lips together and gave a satisfying look.

“Now this is good.”

“For five grand a bottle, it better be.” Mama Elizabeth’s smile was beautiful and very seductive. She sat on the stool next to Summer and stared her straight in the eye.

“So what do you have planned?”

“Money is on my mind at the moment. I mean, I’m fuckin’ wit’ this nigga Kiki, and he may already be hot. I’m not trying to go back to prison.”

Mama Elizabeth studied Summer briefly with a concern look on her face.

“Kiki you said? Short guy with dreads?”

Summer’s eyes sparkled. “Yeah, that’s him.”

“He’s a pretty good guy. Trustworthy for sure.” She paused to take a sip of her drink. “And he’s dangerous. He’s what you call a jack of all trades.”

Interested in knowing more, Summer turned on the swivel stool. “Jack of all trades as far as what?”

“Heroin trap in Columbia, cocaine and marijuana in Augusta, Burke County and Wrens. He takes hits…”

“Murder for hire?”

“Yes. And from my understanding, he’s a notorious robber. Drug dealers and banks.”

“Is this accurate information?”

Mama Elizabeth touched Summer’s hand. “He works for me, baby, so I know.” Her hand then dropped to Summer’s inner thigh.

Summer stood and said, “I want in.”

Then they kissed.

The following morning, Summer was parked in the lot of the strip club. The sun glared in her eyes as she watched and scanned every car from the driver’s seat of her Lexus. A glossy black Chrysler 300 pulled in on twenty-four inch rims and parked next to her.

“Hey, girlfriend. How you doing?” He tried hard to make his voice sound like a woman’s.

Summer casually stepped out the car, leaving the door open. “I need to contact the guy who owns this club.”

“Who, Shawn?” Mesha asked, confused. He knew exactly who Summer was talking about, but the look in her eyes told him something else.

Summer’s eyes penetrated his for a mere second or two. “Shawn is the manager, right?” she asked.

Mesha nodded. “So you talkin’ ‘bout Stacy then.”

Surprisingly, she pointed her finger, and a smile spread over her lips.

“Stacy,” she said. “I’ve been trying to think of his name.”

“I can call him for you if you want me to.”

“That’s alright. Jus’ give me his number.”

Mesha flipped down his visor and removed a business card. He scanned it quickly first to make sure it was the right one. Then he handed Summer the card. She looked at it, and there were three separate numbers listed. Stacy’s name was typed in bold letters across the bottom. Summer looked at Mesha and tucked the card in her pocket.

“We need to hook up sometime,” Summer told him.

Mesha’s facial muscles relaxed as he smiled. “Yeah, we can do that.”

“You cool with all the girls at the club?”

“Of course. Even the ones who don’t like me have to fuck with me.”

Summer took that statement in. Remembering what Mesha had said about Red Bone a week or two back, her mind took off at a high speed, going in all directions.

“You’ll be here tonight?” Summer asked, her voice soft and elegant.

“Yeah,” he responded. “It’ll be a few girls here from Atlanta and Charlotte. A lot of money will be in the place tonight. Stacks on deck, so I’ll be here.” 

After they said their goodbyes, Summer got back inside her car and waited for Mesha to pull off. Once the Chrysler disappeared into the morning Broad Street traffic, she picked up the cell phone that Mama Elizabeth had provided her. She started to dial, and then she thought for a minute. The plan lingering in the back of her mind was that she wanted the club for herself. She needed a front to cover her money, and she knew the strippers would handle business for her. The entire seven years Summer was in federal prison she planned on how she would become a millionaire before the age of thirty-five. However, now that she had met Kiki and realized how much power he possessed, she was ready to use everything to her advantage. She used her body to get the attention she wanted. She used her mind to seal the deal. She started the car and dialed a number on speed dial.

*****

ATLANTA, GEORGIA

Kiki sat outside on the balcony of the Hilton Hotel on the twenty-fifth floor. He wasn’t alone; the guy who handled business for him at Red Bone’s apartment accompanied him. Kiki learned that he went by Bookie in the streets and had just come home from serving a ten-year bid for armed robbery. Bookie admired Kiki and gave him respect. They both stood the same height, which was five-eight. However, Bookie packed much power inside his small frame. His mother’s name was tattooed in cursive on the left side of his neck and the words
Only God Can Judge Me
were on his left forearm.

Kiki fired up a cigarette just as his phone rang. He pressed the send button and inserted his earpiece.

“Hello.”

“Hey,” Summer said from the other end. “Can I see you today?”

Kiki drew from his cigarette and casually exhaled the smoke.

“Yeah, I’ll be in tonight. It ain’t no problem, is it?”

“No, it isn’t. I was jus’ preplanning something that I won’t talk to you about over the phone.”

He gave a half grin.
That’s smart thinking on her part
, he thought. “That’s good business. I’ll call you in a couple of hours.”

“Alright. See you later.”

After he heard the phone disconnect, he turned his focus back to Bookie, who split open a cigar and dumped the tobacco over the balcony. He then removed two mid-sized marijuana buds, and within seconds, he was wrapping the weed in the moist cigar leaf. He carefully sealed it with his lips.

Kiki snubbed half of the cigarette out into a clean ashtray. He looked at his watch, which let him know it was two minutes after three o’clock.

“These niggas are late,” he stated calmly, then stood up and walked to the cement wall to look over.

The vehicles passing through the maze streets looked like Hot Wheels from the floor he was on. His phone vibrated in his pocket again. He removed it and pressed the SEND button to answer.

“Yeah.”

“Hey, whazzup, pimp?” a guy asked in a deep, southern drawl.

“Where you at, bruh? You know I like to be prompt with everything I do.”

“Listen, partna, I got my kids with me and everythang. I ran into the back of this bitch’s car and gave her forty-five hundred so she wouldn’t call the police.”

“Alright, listen, where you at right now?” He turned and faced Bookie, who was watching him calmly.

“Over on Cascade, the Kroger Plaza.”

Kiki flipped his head at Bookie. “I tell you what. We’ll wait…”

“Naw, naw, I’m dirty. I need you to come through.”

“I’ll call you when I get in the area,” Kiki told him.

“Cool. I’m parked in a maroon Camry.”

“Forty minutes, bruh.” Kiki pressed the end button, removed the Bluetooth from his ear, and laid it on the table in front of him.

Bookie passed him the lit blunt. Kiki took a pull and released a stream of smoke, his eyes locking with Bookie’s.

“Now correct me if I’m wrong,” he said. “I got a nigga up here I’ve been knowing for the last ten years. I put him on wit’ the work, and I got him a house here in Atlanta.”

“Where he from?” Bookie asked. His eyes were nearly closed.

“He’s from Augusta. He’s jus’ been up here a few years. Anyway, I know this nigga like a Muslim knows the Quran, and he ain’t never sounded like this.”

“You think he’s trying to set you up?”

“Either wit’ the folks or he’s tryin’ to get some niggas to rob me.”

“So what ‘cha wanna do?” Bookie asked anxiously. He didn’t care what he had to do; he just wanted in.

Lost in thought, Kiki stared past Bookie for a minute. His mind was racing ninety miles per hour, even though he was a thinker and wasn’t too quick to jump. He looked at his watch again; time was steadily moving.

“I got to kill him,” he said in a whisper. “Not today, though.”

“Jus’ let me know what ‘cha want me to do.”

Kiki paused. His eyes were deadlier than a venomous snake. “I will. Trust me.”

Bookie rubbed his hands together. He couldn’t wait.

A month later, Summer met up with a real estate agent from Century 21. Once again, she was in a rental car, a maroon Taurus. The agent–a white lady–pulled in front of the house in a cream Infinity. She stepped out casually dressed in a navy blue skirt and a white blouse, with her auburn hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. She admired Summer as soon as she laid eyes on her. Summer was dressed in a Prada denim suit. Her toes were out, and her nails were painted black.