Murder Mamas (8 page)

Read Murder Mamas Online

Authors: Ashley Antoinette

“I'm not a snitch or anything ... but that nigga is wildin',” Fruit said. He was convincing himself that he wasn't being disloyal to his friend. He took another deep breath and continued. “He's staying at the Hilton. Room three-thirty,” Fruit said as he pulled out a room key and handed it to Macy.
“Are you sure, son?” Macy said as he slightly frowned and looked deep into Fruit's eyes, trying to feel him out.
“Yeah, I'm sure. I just left him about a half an hour ago.”
“You know if you are lying to me ...” Macy said as he stepped closer to Fruit and placed his hand on his shoulder. Macy continued, “If you are lying to me, I will kill you. Believe that,” Macy said as his gangster mentality began to rear its ugly head.
“I wouldn't lie to you, Mr. Sigel. He's in there and the money is there too,” Fruit confessed as his heart began to pound. He saw the menacing stare in Macy's eyes and he grew uncomfortable standing in his presence.
Macy quickly walked to the door and waved for his bodyguard Big E to come in. E quickly came in, and Macy leaned over and whispered something in Edris' ear while Fruit stood and watched, not knowing what to expect next. Macy then walked over to Fruit and put his arm around him.
“Thanks for what you did. I will never forget this,” Macy said as he walked Fruit toward the back.
“So there is no bad blood between us?” Fruit said, slightly surprised by Macy's reaction.
“No. None whatsoever. Actually, I owe you a favor. Maybe I can give you a job or something,” Macy said as he patted his back.
No quicker had the words left his mouth than a bullet left his bodyguard's gun. The guard had walked behind Fruit and gave him a fatal blast to the head. Blood splattered everywhere as his body fell to the ground.
Macy wiped the blood off of his face and looked down at Fruit, who was still breathing. Macy looked at Edris and said, “Yo, give me that.”
Edris followed his orders, and then Macy sent two more shots to Fruit's head, silencing him forever. Macy then spit on his body. He was tired of playing games, and he was in rare form. Stealing from him was a no-no, and Fruit had just learned the hard way.
“Clean this mess up and have this disappear before I get back. Fatima will be here in a minute, so make it quick,” Macy instructed as he tucked the gun in his waist and headed out the door. He was on his way to pay Boomer a surprise visit.
 
 
Boomer lay in the bed and stared at the ceiling fan as it slowly spun. The hooker had just given him the best blowjob known to man, and he was in a daze. His mind raced in circles as he thought about nothing in particular. The drugs had him stuck and unable to move, and he never expected what was about to happen.
The lamp that once sat on the nightstand came crashing down on his head and dazed him. The hooker stood over him and moved frantically as she gathered all of the money that was spread on the bed and floor, putting it in the duffle bag with the other cash. She had decided to rob him once she found out how much money he had.
Her pimp was downstairs waiting outside for her. She had slipped in the bathroom and told him what caper she had stumbled upon, and he put the idea in her head. She waited for the right time and gave Boomer the business, knocking him nearly unconscious.
Boomer moaned and held his head as he saw nothing but stars. The hooker gathered her belongings and the duffle bag just before darting out of the room, leaving Boomer there alone. Boomer staggered to get up but fell right back down, not able to regain his balance.
“No, no, no,” he moaned as he realized what had just happened. He grabbed the bed and used it as a crutch to get himself to his feet. He grabbed his gun from the nightstand, but once again he fell straight on his ass. He tried for a third time to get up, and the third time worked like a charm and he slowly walked to the door.
Just as he touched the door handle, the door swung open and Macy, along with two of his bodyguards, barged in. The guards rushed to Boomer, relieving him of his gun and holding him up for Macy to punch him. Macy's bodyguards were all ex-goons, so they were built for situations like that. Macy rolled up his sleeves and gave Boomer a hard punch to the gut, making him bend over in pain.
“You stole from me? Nigga, I raised you! Look at you. You high as ever! Off my money!” Macy said as his rage took over. All Macy saw was red, and he was steaming mad the more he thought about Boomer's audacity.
Boomer felt like a ton of bricks had hit him as he thought about who was standing in front of him.
“Where my money?” Macy asked as he scanned around the room, only seeing small piles of coke on the tables.
“She took it. The girl took it all,” Boomer said as he swayed back and forth in agony.
“Who took it? What girl?” Macy asked as he frowned up and tried to figure out what Boomer was talking about.
“The bitch that I had in here. She hit me over the head and jacked the money,” Boomer answered.
“Where the bitch at? Huh! Boomer, answer me!” Macy spat.
“I don't know. She ran out of here about five minutes ago,” Boomer said as he breathed hard, trying to catch his wind.
“Don't fucking play with me. You better find that bitch, or the police going to find you on the side of the road slumped,” Macy stated. “I want my damn money.”
“Okay, okay. I will find her,” Boomer said, trying to get out of the sticky situation.
“You better find her!” Macy said as he pointed his finger in Boomer's face. “You need to get yourself together and go see your mother. She worried about your sorry ass,” Macy said as he fixed his collar and signaled for the guards to turn Boomer loose. The guards unleashed their grip on him and headed toward the exit.
“I want my damn money by tomorrow morning!” Macy said as he approached the door, preparing to exit.
Boomer's ego got the best of him as he burned up inside, thinking about how Macy was talking to him like he was a flunky. In his mind, he was a boss, and the thought of being disrespected was too much to let slide. Maybe the cocaine had him braver than usual. Nevertheless, Boomer couldn't help himself; he had to say something.
“I'll have your money,” Boomer said as he stood up and wiped the blood that trickled from his forehead. “Bitch,” he added, to add insult to injury.
He would forever regret those words. That single word sent Macy over the edge, and he turned around, drew his gun, and put a hollow tip through Boomer's head. Macy didn't even think twice about what he had just done.
Just as quickly as rage had entered Macy's mind, guilt crept in. As he saw his son lying on the floor staring into space, he began to think about Fatima. Fatima and Boomer shared the same eyes, and that was the hardest thing he had ever done. But he knew that if he didn't do it, Boomer would have eventually killed him. Boomer's hate for Macy was deep, and it wasn't a secret.
The guards were totally taken off guard by Macy's actions, never thinking that he would or could kill his own son. Macy slowly knelt down and gently kissed Boomer on the forehead. He then ran his hand over Boomer's face so that he could close the eyes that seemed to be staring directly at him. Macy had just done something that he could never take back.
 
 
Macy knew that he was slipping. He was moving so sloppy and jeopardizing his entire life over money. He had never shed a tear in his adult life, but as he sat parked in his driveway, watching his wife's silhouette as she moved around in the upstairs window, he cried. Silent tears ran down his face as he thought of how he had singlehandedly ripped his family apart. He had killed his son, and despite the fact that Boomer was in the wrong, Macy was far from right.
Macy was usually a calm and collected man. He barely moved if his actions weren't strategic or well thought out. Everything that had occurred since his anniversary dinner was chaotic, sporadic ... stupid. He hit his steering wheel, wishing that he could take back the past hour of his life. Dazed, he watched his wife's shadow move around their room.
“I can't go in there right now,” he said aloud, knowing that when he looked into her eyes, he would see Boomer staring back at him. He pulled out and immediately called Edris.
“Everything's in order,” Edris stated as soon as he picked up the phone. “I cleaned up that mess. Fatima will never know anything.”
Macy stopped him. “I fucked up. I need you to meet me at my office.”
“Yeah, I'm on my way,” Edris stated as he looked over to ensure that his wife was fully asleep.
“Bring me a change of clothes and hurry, E. It's important,” Macy said.
 
 
Macy sat with his executive leather chair turned toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. He was deep in thought when he heard Edris enter the room.
“The clothes will be a little big, but they should fit okay,” Edris stated as he stepped toward the desk. He had no idea why Macy needed the clothing, but he had learned a long time ago not to ask questions.
Macy turned around, and Edris' eyes bugged out as he noticed the blood that stained his slacks and shirt.
“I found Boom,” Macy stated.
“What did you do, boss?” Edris asked. He could tell that things had gone bad. Macy's red eyes and solemn demeanor told Edris so. “What did you do?”
“I snapped,” Macy replied in a low tone. “I fucked up. I forgot who he was, and I just snapped.” Macy knew that if he was in his right frame of mind, he would have never killed Boomer, but anger was like a drug to him. He was never clear when pushed to the edge.
“I can't tell Fatima this. She will never forgive me for this. He was our son... . He was family.”
Macy shook his head and looked at Big E. “I need you to get that tape from the hotel. I was messy. I slipped out of an emergency exit after I shot Boomer. I can't be tied to this murder. Housekeeping doesn't come around until ten, so they won't discover the body until morning. After that the police will be knocking on my door. No one can know that I was anywhere near that hotel. If they ask, I was with you tonight. We were here at the office working late. Without the surveillance video, no one will ever suspect me of killing my own son.”
Edris nodded. He was speechless and in utter disbelief that Macy had taken it to this point. He had witnessed the tension firsthand between the father and son duo. Boomer had been a problem child since he hit puberty, rebelling every chance that he could. Macy had pegged it as teenage rebellion, until the drug use entered the picture.
“You all right?” Edris asked.
Macy nodded his head and reached into his desk. He removed a large yellow envelope filled with money. He tossed it on the desk toward Edris. “When you get that tape, I'll be fine,” he replied.
Edris entered the hotel and walked directly up to the desk clerk. The young Asian girl flipped carelessly through a magazine as she worked the night shift.
“I'm sorry, we don't have any availability. All of our rooms are reserved for the night,” she said without looking up.
Edris leaned into the counter. “I'm not here for a room.” He went into the inside pocket of his pea coat and pulled out the money-filled envelope. He placed it on the counter and slid it to the girl.
“What's this?” she asked as she grabbed the envelope.
“Take a look inside,” he urged.
The girl opened the envelope, and when she saw all of the Ben Franklins staring back at her, she dropped it as if it were hot to the touch.
She leaned over the counter, and her chinky eyes peered at him suspiciously. “What is this?”
“It can be yours if you cooperate,” Edris responded. Macy had already acted irrationally, and Boomer's murder was going to blow up the spot. Edris couldn't bring more conflict to the situation. It was sometimes more effective to put a little sugar in the game, as opposed to shit. He was going to sweeten the pot for the young girl so that she would help him cover up Boomer's murder.

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