Hood Rich: The rise and fall of one of Brooklyn's Finest (11 page)

Akira’s birthday gift was going to be special. Without
being on the run, I decided it was about time we’d
take another trip. I went up Myrtle Avenue to Liberty
Travel agency. They booked us on an all inclusive to
Hawaii for three days and four nights. Everything
was perfect, our vacation would be seamless.
I spent the entire day looking over the travel brochure
and thinking about our little get a way.
I headed to Razor Sharp on Wilson Avenue to get a
haircut, and then I hit Sneaker City to get some kicks.
I let Mr. Nick wash the Range while I sat in the Hot
Bar eating a snow crab platter. I hadn’t been there in a
week. Everybody missed me.
September 1st came to a close. Shortly before midnight I called Akira to see what’s up. She was at the
Forty-Forty club. I didn’t want to ruin her night at the
club by holding her hostage on the phone. I simply
told her I loved her and would see her tomorrow. I
turned in for the night after checking in on Dave and
Xavier.
I woke up late the next morning. I immediately called
Akira’s cell phone. I was supposed to pick them up
from Port Authority at ten o’clock, and it was almost
noon. I had no missed calls. I was wondering why she
hadn’t called me. As her phone rang I began to think
about the argument I was about to have about not being at the bus station to pick her up.
“Hello.” A strange voice at the other end said.
“Yo who the fuck is this, put Akira on the phone.”
“And who might this be?” The strange woman's voice
continued.
“Yo, whoever this is, I’m not into playing games. It
aint none of your business who this might be. Put
Akira on the phone.”
“Okay Richard Fowler, if you want to speak to Akira,
you have to make your way to the Atlantic City Police
Department Headquarters.”
I hung up the phone and quickly dialed Jocelyn’s
phone. No answer. I dialed Shakita’s phone. The same
person answered.
“Mr Fowler, this is Detective Ukley of the Atlantic
City…”
I cut the detective off in the middle of her sentence.
“What the fuck, where’s Shakita, what’s going on?
What happened? They got locked up? For what, don’t
they get a phone call?
“Richard… calm down. If you want to see or talk to
Shakita, or Akira, you have to come down here…”
I hung up the phone and jumped in my Range. The
girls were in trouble. I went to my stash house and
grabbed fifty thousand dollars. I thought to myself
something must have popped of at the forty-forty
club last night. They caught up in some bullshit.
I headed out to Atlantic City by myself. On the two
hour ride I found some solace in listening to Jay-Z's
Reasonable Doubt. I called ABC Bail Bonds. Something was funny. None of the girls had been processed or even in the computer system as having been
arrested overnight or as of eleven o’clock this morning.
Once inside police headquarters I met with detective
Ukley. She was a tall slim blue eyed, blond hair woman. She had a cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee in her
hand. She called me by my full name… Richard
Fowler. It was of no surprise given the fact that my
phone was in my name as was Akira, and Jocelyn’s.
“Mr Fowler, can you tell me your relationships with
Akira and Shakita Wilson.”
“I’m not the one under arrest why are you asking me
questions?”
“Mr Fowler, I will lock you ass up for impeding a
homicide investigation!”
“Homicide? My girl aint kill nobody, she was with
me all night.”
“Mr Fowler, was Akira your girlfriend? And we
know she was not with you last night.”
“What you mean was? She is.”
Mrs Ukley got up from the table. She came beside me
and touched my shoulder.
“I’m sorry Mr Fowler, Shakita and Akira Wilson were
both murdered.”
“No!”
“Calm down Mr Fowler.”
A few officers came inside of the room and held me
against the wall.
“It’s okay boy, he’s next of kin, well… kind of.”
The officers released me and one offered me some
coffee. I declined. Tears came streaming down my
face. It felt like I was just smacked with a brick.
“Mr Fowler, I know this is a hard time for you but we
need your help.”
“I was in Brooklyn until two hours ago.”
“We know, we already checked with your cell phone
carrier. Your not a suspect, we already know who the
killer is. We need help putting the pieces of the puzzle
together. Your girlfriend had three return bus tickets
to New York. There was someone with them.”
Even though I wasn’t on the hook, wasn’t a defendant, or even a suspect… I wasn’t too fond of the police. Fuck ‘em I thought. They already knew who the
killer was. That’s what I wanted and needed to know.
Where the fuck was Jocelyn I thought to myself.
“I’m sorry detective, I wouldn’t know about a third
person.”
“Mr Fowler, perhaps I can narrow it down for you.
It’s a female and she would have been close to the second trimester in her pregnancy.”
This bitch was off. Jocelyn wasn’t pregnant.
“No, I’m sorry, no one comes to mind.”
“She was kidnapped Mr. Fowler. You can help up
save her if you cooperate.”
“I wish I could help.”
“I think you can. See you haven't asked me who the
killer is. You know what that tells me?”
“Actually, I was about to ask.”
“Bullshit! You already know, don’t you?
“No.”
“You wanna stop bullshitting me already. Shakita
Wilson was a suspect in a New York City murder
where our suspects brother was murdered, around
the corner from your house. Let’s see our suspect is a
pimp. Do you know what Shakita Wilson was arrested for in 1994… prostitution. Wanna guess who
bailed her out?”
“I don’t know, thank you for the info though.”
I was taken to the coroners office to ID the bodies. The
forensic technician had a water bottle with hot pink
lipstick. That was most definitely Jocelyn. He also
said that Shakita and Akira was also pregnant.
All I could think of was how things would have been.
I cried as I realized that, not only had Black taken my
bitch, he had also taken my seed. I was fuming
I went back to my truck. It was still early. I grabbed
my money and headed into Caesars to get a room. I
sat down and took my shoes off. I ended up dozing
off as I watched people on the boardwalk from the
window. When I woke up, it was midnight. I headed
to Pacific Avenue, hoping to see Black. I jumped in
my truck and made a left on Pacific. As soon as I
reached the corner I saw Black and Jocelyn. She was
standing next to him with her shoes in her hand. It
was too late to slam on my brakes. I hadn’t made direct eye contact with Black or Jocelyn. I don’t think
either one of them saw me, and Black didn’t know
who I was. I saw his mugshot when I was eye hustling at the police headquarters. I spun around the
block. Once I reached the corner I parked my car and
got out. I grabbed my burner from under the seat. I
walked around the corner and there they was. Her
back was turned to me.
“Jocelyn!” I yelled twice.
She came running over to me.

“Jocelyn.” I heard someone yelling from across the
street.
I was standing on Pacific Avenue, checking cheddar
for my daddy, as usual. You know, with me being his
bottom bitch I had to make sure every bitches trap
was always right all the time. Black didn’t play that
shit… bitches coming up short. I missed Kev. He was
laid back. He was way smoother too. Black on the
other hand, was a guerrilla pimp. He would beat a
bitch down… me included, so I stay on top of my
game. Wont catch me slipping.
He got this little dumb young bitch Jocelyn out here
barefoot, holding her shoes. That’s a ho’s punishment
for getting out of pocket.
I’m surprised he aint kill that lazy bitch. A bitch shoot
me, and I live, oh she would die. Not that I had anything against her. I just play my part as the bottom
bitch and keep the stable tight. Nothing personal…
just business.
“Jocelyn.” He yelled again.
Coffee
Hood Rich

His face looked familiar. I seen him somewhere before. Jocelyn ran over to him. I know this bitch aint
think she was running away from Black.

Black drew his gun, and I drew mine.
“Nigga that bitch is my property.”
He said as I lined him up in my sights. He reached to
pull out his gun.
“Nigga you must be crazy pulling…”
--bang, bang, bang-
We fired simultaneously.
My first shot missed, but my second shot was dead
on. A wig shot. Black dropped instantly.
I felt a pain in my chest. Jocelyn screamed.
“Rich… Rich!”
I collapsed into her arms. I looked down and saw that
my white shirt had become red. I felt my hands and
legs getting colder. My head began to feel heavy. I
looked up and saw the lights on Pacific Avenue. The
limousines, the taxis, and the exotic cars passing by.
The sirens were approaching, but they were fading.
Then it all went back.
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