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Authors: Roy Glenn

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BOOK: Out of Control
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“We not gon’ be here that long,” Jamaica said. “I need to know your answer, Harry.”

“I can’t give you my money, mon,” Harry said and Deidra dropped her head.

Jamaica didn’t say a word. He just turned and started for the door. Then he stopped and turned around. “Deidra.”

“Yes.”

“Mike Black sends you his best,” Jamaica said and left the office.

“What was that ‘bout, Deidra?”

Deidra punched Harry in the shoulder. “That means he’s gonna kill me.” Deidra grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

“Deidra don’t go. I told you I won’t let anything happen to you,” Harry said to a slamming door.

Deidra pushed her way through the crowd of gamblers and knew that she would have to do whatever it took to save her life and turn this around.

Jamaica and his men sat across the street from Harry’s spot and waited. “There go Deidra Walker,” Alfred said.

“Give it a minute ’fore Harry Walker come run behind her big ass,” Leonard added. As promised, a minute later, Harry came running out of the spot. He got to the car in time to watch Deidra drive off in his car. Harry went back inside, but came back out quickly. He got in another car and drove off.

“Now we wait,’ Jamaica said.

It was a little after five in the morning when the last gambler left Harry’s spot. “Dexter come out in a minute,” Jamaica said and Leonard and Alfred got out of the car.

When Dexter, who ran the spot for Harry, came out with the money, Alfred walked up behind him. He put a gun at the base of his skull. Leonard stepped out of the shadows and relieved him of the money. They walked him to the car and used plastic cuffs to secure his wrists and ankles, then blindfolded Dexter before they put him in the car with Jamaica. Alfred got in the front seat and started up the car. Leonard went and got something out of the trunk before getting in the backseat with Dexter.

“I know you can’t see it but I have a gun pointed at you,” Jamaica said as Alfred drove off. “If say or do the wrong thing, I put a bullet in your head.”

Dexter didn’t say a word. He just prayed that he would live through the night. “Ouch!” Dexter screamed as he felt something on his neck.

“Take the blindfold off him, Leonard,” Jamaica ordered.

Leonard took off the blindfold and Dexter jumped a little when he saw the big yellowish-green snake in Leonard’s hand.

“In case you don’t recognize it, that is a Black Mamba. It is one of the deadliest snakes you can find. You can tell a Black Mamba from the black coloration inside the mouth. It was the bite of the snake that you feel. But not to worry, the snake bite won’t kill you—it’s the venom that will take your life,” Jamaica said. “But not right away.

Leonard got out and put the snake back in the trunk. He came back with a bucket and sat it on Dexter’s lap. “You may need this soon,” he said and laughed. Jamaica told Alfred to just drive around. While they drove Leonard explained to Dexter how he was going to die. “You gon’ start to feel dizzy.”

Jamaica looked back at Dexter. “Look at him. Him dizzy now,” he said as Dexter eyes seemed to glaze over and his head began to sway from side to side.

“Then you begin coughing and you have difficulty breathing, and you heartbeat, mon, it gon’ go crazy,” Leonard told him. “I hear of some case, ya no, when the Mamba bite you, it cause paralysis. Death come from suffocation from paralysis of the respiratory muscles. But most times the victim has received a large amount of venom, death come in an hour from cardiac arrest.”

As they continued to drive, within thirty minutes, Dexter’s symptoms began to manifest. His sweating increased, and he would holler from severe abdominal pain. Leonard knew that nausea and vomiting would come soon. “Gon’ hold the bucket, Leonard. He look like he ready to go,” Jamaica suggested. “I don’t want it all over the car.” Almost on cue, Dexter began vomiting.

“You gon’ die soon,” Jamaica told Dexter, but he already knew that. “Drive to Harry them house.”

When they arrived at Harry’s house, Leonard and Alfred helped him out of the car and then cut the plastic cuffs that bound his waists and ankles. “You be sure to tell Harry Walker that Mike Black sends his regards,” Jamaica said and fired one shot in the air. Dexter walked toward the house as best he could. Harry came out with his gun in time to see Jamaica drive away.

When Dexter reached the house, he fell into Harry’s arms. “What happened?” Harry asked.

“Snake bite.”

“Who did this to you, Dexter?”

By that time, Deidra had gotten to the door. She came outside and saw the puncture marks on Dexter’s neck.

“You know damn well who did it. I told you we should have taken their offer. Now we’re all gonna die for your stubbornness, Harry,” Deidra said in disgust and went back in the house and thought about packing a bag and heading for Miami.

“Dexter! Dexter!” Harry yelled and shook him. But it was too late. The venom had done its work.

 
 
CHAPTER NINE
 
 

By the time the sun went down the following evening, everybody who needed to know had heard that Dexter had died from a snake bite. Harry had spent the better part of the day making sure that Jamaica hadn’t killed any more of his people or robbed any more of his spots. When Harry returned home, Deidra was sitting in the living room with her bags packed. “Where are you goin’, Deidra?”

“I’m going to Miami,” Deidra said and stood up. “I didn’t want to leave without saying good-bye.”

“Why you want to run to Miami?”

“I’m not gonna sit around here like a fool and wait for that man to kill us.”

“Sit down, Deidra, please.”

“Why?” Deidra asked and her hands hit her hips.

“Just come, sit for a minute before you go,” Harry said quietly and sat down on the couch.

Deidra rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth, but she went and sat next to Harry. “Okay, I’m sitting. Now what?”

“Have you bought your ticket yet?”

“No. I’ll buy one when I get to the airport. I’ll be safe there until my flight leaves.”

Harry looked his watch. “When is the next flight?”

“In the morning.”

“You plan is to sit at the airport all night?”

“It’s better than sitting around here waiting for them to come and kill me.”

“I don’t want you to go, Deidra. I would be lost without you.”

“I don’t want to go. But what choice do I have?”

“You can choose to stay here with me.”

“That’s not a choice, Harry. It’s a death sentence. You’re not leaving me any other choice.”

“You will be safe with me. I would die before I let anything happen to you.”

“And what happens to me after they kill you?”

“What can I do to make you stay?”

“Take their offer.”

Harry stood up. “No. I can not just give them my money.” He walked to the window and looked out. Maybe he should have gotten some of his men to watch the house.

Deidra got up and joined Harry at the window. “Then I have to go, Harry. It’s just that simple. These men have already killed Kitchner and now they killed Dexter. And they won’t mind killing everybody until they get what they want. That’s how they live. The only thing they understand is violence and death. You’re not a killer, Harry. So unless you have plans to kill Jamaica and this Mike Black, they are just going to kill you and take what they want.”

“Okay, Deidra. If you stay I will swallow my pride and do what you want.”

Deidra put her arms around Harry. “It’s not what I want. But it is the only thing that will keep us alive.”

The following day Jacara Delbridge arrived on the island from Freeport. She had heard that Jamaica was spending a lot of time in Nassau. Then she heard from Black’s mother that he had bought a house there.
 
“That’s why I haven’t seen him in months,” Jacara said.

Jacara had become a showgirl in Las Vegas until she concluded that she would never be a headliner, so she decided to move on. She had come to the Bahamas for Junkanoo and a short vacation. Junkanoo groups "rush" from midnight until shortly after dawn to the music of cowbells. They compete for cash prizes in costumes made from cardboard covered in tiny shreds of colorful crepe paper. Some say the word Junkanoo comes from John Canoe, the name of an African tribal chief who demanded the right to celebrate with his people even after being brought to the West Indies in slavery.

She got a job as headliner at the Count Basie Square in the Port Lucaya Marketplace with the Port Lucaya dancers. After she met Black,
Jacara cultivated a good relationship with his mother, which gave her the opportunity to interact with Black’s daughter, Michelle on a regular basis. It was something that Black didn’t like, but knew he had very little control over. “But if he knew what was really going on, he wouldn’t like that either. He would kill me if he knew the truth,” Jacara said aloud as she looked at herself in the mirror and prayed that her secret would stay that way. It wasn’t meant to go that way, but she had fallen in love with Mike Black and was hoping to leave her previous life behind her. Jacara hated to even think about the life she once lived and wanted nothing more than to bury it deep like Black had done to almost all of the people that were involved.
 

In her wildest dreams, she had painted a perfect picture of her new life with Mike Black. But she knew he was slipping away when she heard that Black was on the island with CeCe. He was on the island to meet with a group of Chinese investors and members of the Cuban government. When she heard that CeCe had arranged to meet with some local dressmakers who wanted to sell their creations for CeCe’s boutique in New York, Jacara arranged to be there.

“What’s going on here?” Jacara had gotten a call the minute CeCe came into the store.

“Oh, just a little show for a friend of Jamaica’s. She’s a big-time buyer from New York and we are trying to get her interested in buying some of our designs.”

“I don’t know about big time,” CeCe said. “But so far I like what I see.”

“Miss Collins, this is Jacara Delbridge.”

CeCe stood and shook Jacara’s hand. “CeCe. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Jacara’s a singer who performs at a number of places ’round town. In fact, we design all of her outfits.”

“And they do excellent work too. Well I’m not going to get in the way. I’ll just come back another time,” Jacara said, but didn’t mean it.

“You are not in the way, Jacara. Why don’t you stay? Maybe you see something new for your show. That is if Miss Collins doesn’t mind, of course?”

“Not at all. Please have a seat.”

“If you’re sure I won’t be in the way,” Jacara said and sat next to CeCe. Her purpose in being there wasn’t to make a scene. She only wanted to send a message to Black that he couldn’t be there with another woman, and she not know about it.
 

 
The next and last time Jacara saw them was at Kevon’s funeral. After the service Black and CeCe walked to the car hand in hand while Jacara looked on with her hands on her hips. CeCe leaned close to Black. “You fuckin’ her?” she asked quietly so Michelle wouldn’t hear her.

Black nodded his head.

“Is she going to be a problem?”

“Not for me.”

“You know what I mean. Is she going to be a problem for you and me? Or am I assuming too much?”

“No.”

“No what?”

“No she’s not going to be a problem for you and me and no, you’re not assuming too much,” Black told CeCe that day.

Once Jacara had checked into her hotel and settled in, she went to the bazaar. She wanted to do a little shopping and to ask some questions. Jacara knew that the easiest way to find Mike Black was to find Jamaica. Jacara had heard how Jamaica operated and assumed that by now he had gotten around to shaking down the vendors in the bazaar.

 
She had been at the bazaar for less than an hour and had found out that Jamaica hung out at a club called The Grill. That’s when she saw Michelle. Jacara couldn’t believe her luck. If Michelle was at the bazaar, then Mike Black couldn’t be far behind. She quickly made her way over there.

“Hi, Michelle. It’s Jacara. Do you remember me?”

“I do,” CeCe said and reached for Michelle’s hand.

Jacara was surprised to see CeCe with Michelle because she knew how particular Black was about women being around his daughter. She was more surprised to see her pregnant.

“Hello, Miss Collins.”

CeCe started to tell her that her name was Mrs. Black, but decided she didn’t need to. Since she’d been living in Nassau people began calling her Mrs. Black. The captain of their boat called her Mrs. Black. The woman that cleaned the house and cooked for them called her Mrs. Black. All of the deliverymen and vendors that she dealt with called her Mrs. Black. CeCe had even gotten in the habit of signing her name, Mrs. Camesha C. Black. In fact, the only one who didn’t call her Mrs. Black was Mr. Black. He had taken to calling her Cee.

“Hello, Jacara. What brings you to Nassau?” CeCe asked as her blood boiled and her eyes narrowed.

BOOK: Out of Control
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