White Lines III (19 page)

Zion wanted to spit in his face. There was plenty of illegal stuff in there. But if they thought that he would make it easy for them by telling them where to look, they were fools. He ignored the question and exercised his right to remain silent.

It wasn't long before an agent called out that she had found two firearms in the bedroom, and a bag of pills in a kitchen cabinet.

One agent smiled at the two of them. “You're under arrest, guys.”

Ava cried softly. In no time flat, her dreams had turned into a terrible nightmare.

*   *   *

At four o'clock in the morning, Jada awoke to her cell phone ringing. She yawned and looked at the screen. The number was unfamiliar, but she answered it anyway.

Ava's crying voice filled her ear. “Jada, I'm under arrest.”

“What?” Jada sat up in bed.

“The cops came to Zion's house while I was there, and they arrested both of us.”

“Zion?” Jada looked around the room for signs that she might be having another nightmare. She pinched herself. “What were you doing at Zion's place?”

“I'll explain that later,” Ava said, impatiently. “I need you to come to court for me. They tell me I'm going to be arraigned and have a bail hearing. Please come and get me out of here, Jada.”

“Calm down, okay. I'll be there. Don't worry.” Jada was already out of bed, pacing the floor. “Ava?”

“Yes?”

“Be strong and don't tell them nothing.”

“I know that.” Ava knew that Jada was more streetwise than she was. But both of them had grown up in Brooklyn, and had learned early on what to do and what not to say if you were ever in police custody. Ava had never imagined herself in this predicament. But she knew how to handle herself.

“I love you,” Jada said. “I'll be in court today. Don't cry.”

“Okay,” Ava said. “I love you, too.” She hung up the phone, took a deep breath, and was returned to her cell.

Jada rushed into her bathroom to get ready. Everything was beginning to crumble.

*   *   *

Marisol awoke to a six a.m. phone call from Reuben's wife, Bridget. She was frantic. Reuben had been arrested, and the cops were still combing through their Long Island home in search of evidence. Bridget was distraught, and Marisol was, too. This was the last thing their family needed. She told Dale the news, and climbed out of bed in search of Sunny.

Marisol instantly knew that something was terribly wrong when she found Sunny's room empty, her bed unslept in. She rushed down the hall to the guest bedroom where Mercedes slept. Along the way, she prayed frantically that Sunny had slept with Mercedes rather than alone in her own room. But she knew in her heart that wasn't the case. Even before she opened Mercedes' door and found her sleeping alone, Marisol knew that this was bad. She shut the door, and ran past Dale down the stairs to the kitchen. Dale went into the living room. Both of them began calling out Sunny's name. Dale checked for their car keys, and found that all of them were accounted for. He saw Sunny's purse laying on the table in the foyer and he wondered where she could be. It didn't seem that she had left the house. His heart jumped when he heard Marisol cry out from down the hall.

Dale ran to where Marisol stood before the locked guest bathroom door. They banged on it together.

“Sunny! Sunny, open the door!”

After a few seconds, Dale told his wife to stand back, and he kicked at the door several times. Finally, with all of the force he could muster, he kicked the door until it gave way. Rushing inside, they found Sunny lying facedown on the floor. Her eyes were open, and her hands were folded beneath her body.

Marisol cried out in desperation, while Dale turned his daughter's body over and checked for her pulse. Marisol sobbed loudly as she ran quickly to get her phone to call an ambulance. She didn't see Mercedes come downstairs to see what all the commotion was.

Mercedes had a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. She walked into the bathroom where she could hear her grandfather weeping openly. She stepped inside and saw him sitting on the floor as he cradled Sunny's lifeless body in his arms. She knew right away that her mother was gone; that this time Sunny had done it for good. A bag of powder sat on the edge of the sink, and Mercedes noticed it. Rage and fury took over her, and she hated Sunny so much in that moment. She took the scene in silently. Her mother was dead. The reality hit her hard. There was no turning back.

Slowly, Mercedes walked over to where Dale sat with Sunny in his arms. She stared down at her mother and etched the image in her mind of Sunny lying there with her eyes eerily wide open and somehow shut forever. Sunny's nose was covered in dried blood. Despite the macabre sight, Mercedes saw her mother's beauty even then. Even in death, to Mercedes she looked like an angel. She knelt down and touched Sunny's hand. It was cold and clammy. She held it up to her face, and let her tears fall like rain.

*   *   *

Camille was asleep when her phone rang. It was just past six in the morning and Eli never usually called this early. His shift started at five a.m. and, as usual, he had slipped out of bed soundlessly and left her sleeping, undisturbed. She answered the phone, her voice heavy with sleep.

“Hey, baby.”

“Camille,” he said. “Wake up. I have to tell you some news.”

Camille propped herself up on her elbow and rubbed her eyes. “What's wrong?”

“It's Frankie,” he said. “He's been arrested. Him and some of his friends.”

Camille was wide awake now. “What? When? What happened?”

“I can't get into all that now, but he's due in court this morning. I'll tell you what I know when I see you.”

“But, Eli … he's arrested?”

Eli tried not to be bothered by the genuine concern he heard in Camille's voice. After all, Camille and Frankie had been married for years and shared a child together. “Yeah. Listen, baby. I gotta go. I'll call you as soon as I can say more.”

“Okay,” Camille said. “I love you.”

She hung up the phone, jumped up out of bed, and called her sister. To her surprise, Misa answered right away.

“Oh my God,” Misa said. “Baron just got arrested, too. Miss Celia called to tell me that the feds raided her house in New Jersey and took Baron. She says they tore the place apart while waving around their search warrant.”

Misa and Baron were entering a phase of their relationship that was unfamiliar to either of them. She believed that he was getting out of the game. During their intimate moments, he had suggested that they move away from New York, have some babies, and settle down. She had been considering it, wondering if she and Shane could survive without the warmth and comfort of her mother and sister. But now this.

Camille sat on the edge of the bed. “This is it, Misa. This is where it all comes falling down.”

*   *   *

Born woke up early to nurses prodding him with needles, checking his blood pressure, and sticking a thermometer in his mouth. The doctor came in and explained that Born would need to remain in the hospital for at least another day or so for observation. He had a fractured clavicle, a few cracked ribs, and a concussion. He would need to be in a sling for a couple of weeks. But overall he was lucky to be alive. He dozed off for awhile after the doctor's visit, and was awakened not long after by some detectives who wanted to ask him a few questions. Their tone was relaxed, concerned.

“Do you have any enemies that might want to see you hurt? You messing around with anyone's girl, that kinda thing?”

Born told them that he had no enemies. It was true as far as he knew. Sure, in a community as small as Staten Island, there were characters that he chose not to associate with. But none of them would have a reason to go so far as to try and kill him. It bothered Born that he couldn't figure out who it might be. The reality was that someone had wanted to take his life. Whether he knew who it was or not, somebody out there was gunning for him.

He couldn't fall back asleep after they left. He lay in his bed doing his own mental detective work. Just after seven o'clock in the morning, Tremaine came in. He had to cozy up to one of the nurses on duty in order to get in before visiting hours began.

“I slept outside in the visitor's lounge near the elevator,” he told Born. “That way, anybody who came up to this floor had to go past me.”

Born appreciated that his boys were on high alert.

“I woke up to this text,” Tremaine continued, handing Born his cell phone. He reached and turned on the TV at the foot of Born's bed. Flipping through the channels, he stopped on
Eyewitness News.

Born read the text. “FEDS!” It was from Biggs, another associate of theirs who acted as the crew's muscle.

“Now I can't get in touch with nobody,” Tremaine said.

A news bulletin stole their attention.

“Twenty-two people were arrested in a narcotics bust on Staten Island and in Brooklyn this morning. Prosecutors allege that the suspects are part of a drug-and-gun trafficking ring that has terrorized New York City for decades. Those arrested include an attorney from the Brooklyn DA's office. Grant Keys was among those targeted in a predawn raid coordinated in both boroughs.”

Born and Tremaine looked on in wide-eyed amazement as video rolled of Frankie being led out of his house in handcuffs. The reporter continued.

“Frank Bingham was arrested after selling Oxycodone on three separate occasions to an undercover NYPD officer, police said. He was identified as one of two dozen loosely affiliated drug dealers on Staten Island and throughout Brooklyn.

Bingham is the brother of Steven Bingham, the shooting victim in the brutal 2008 murder case that rocked the city. He will be arraigned this morning in Staten Island Criminal Court. Police arrested twenty-one other people in the operation and seized drugs from twelve different locations, including 475 Oxycodone pills, 200 Vicodin pills, 300 Xanax pills, 200 grams of cocaine, 201 glassines of heroin, and sixteen ounces of marijuana. They also seized $17,000 in cash and two loaded 380-caliber handguns from one defendant.

The suspects range in age from nineteen to forty-four and were arrested on charges including cocaine distribution, possession and criminal sale of controlled substances, burglaries, conspiracy, and weapons possession.

We'll have more on this story after today's arraignment.”

Born was frozen. This was not good. Tremaine's cell phone rang. He saw DJ's phone number, and answered it quickly.

“Tell Uncle Born, the feds got 'em,” DJ said, breathlessly.

“Got who?”

“Uncle Patrick, Uncle Christian, and their whole crew.” DJ sounded shaken. “My grandmother just called, said they ran up in her house and Uncle Christian's house this morning.”

Tremaine relayed the news to Born.

Born blew out a deep breath. “Damn! Give me the phone.”

“Uncle Born, I'm going to court with Grandma this morning,” DJ said. “I'll come up there afterward.”

“No, you're not,” Born said, adamantly. “You're not just some dude from around the way no more, DJ. You're a celebrity. You're not gonna sit up in some courtroom watching your uncles battle a drug case. Get out of here with that. You sit your ass at home, and we'll get somebody else to go to court and let us know what happens.”

DJ reluctantly agreed, and they hung up. Born called Jada next. He wasn't surprised that she didn't answer. He was used to that these days. He handed the phone back to Tremaine.

“Shit!” Born said. He felt helpless. “It sounds like they got everybody.” He was grateful that he had gotten out of the drug game a long time ago. Still, many of the people he cared about were still living that lifestyle, and he worried for them. “Call Zion,” he suggested.

Tremaine shook his head. “I been calling him since I got Biggs' text. No answer.”

Born thought about it. “You should probably go. You never know who might be looking for you.”

Tremaine had been thinking the same thing. “But, I can't leave you open here by yourself.”

“I'm here,” Anisa said, walking into the room. “I saw the news this morning, and I came right over after I took Ethan to Miss Ingrid's house. She'll bring him up here with her when she comes this afternoon.”

Born relaxed a little when he saw Anisa. She had an uncanny knack for showing up right on time lately. “Thank you,” he said.

“Don't thank me yet. The nurse acts like she wants to kick me out.” Anisa hid her bag behind the curtain, and positioned herself where she couldn't be seen from the hallway.

“We'll worry about her later,” Born said. He was grateful for her company. He thought about Jada and assumed that she was too busy with Sheldon to answer her phone. He forced his thoughts away from her, and said good-bye to Tremaine as he prepared to go on the run. “Be careful out there,” Born said. “Keep in touch with somebody. Let us know you're alright.”

Tremaine gave Born a long handshake, and assured him that he would watch his back. Then he left. Anisa touched Born's hand, caressed it.

“What the hell is going on?” she asked, rhetorically.

Born shook his head. “I wish I knew.”

*   *   *

Gillian's phone started ringing just as the sun began to rise. The arrests had come unexpectedly in a well-orchestrated predawn raid. Simultaneously, various members of her crew had been taken into custody. Zion. Baron. Reuben. The Douglas brothers. Frankie. Biggs. Even Grant Keys, and
that
was a game changer. Grant was an insider. His arrest meant that the government had established their best case yet against the Nobles crime family.

Gillian called her attorney, showered, dressed, and sipped peppermint tea as she waited for the authorities to come for her. But no one came. As the time neared when court would open and the arraignments would begin, Gillian sat anxiously by her phone, waiting for word from her people.