RECKLESS — Bad Boy Criminal Romance (15 page)

Later, two other people arrived at Terrell’s house.

One I recognized.  His name was DeAnthony.  He played high school football with Terrell as a fullback.  He was about five-foot-nine and broad-shouldered with arms and legs like tree trunks.  DeAnthony only wore overalls with a white undershirt despite the cold weather.  In a jovial mood he shook my hand and then jumped on Terrell’s bed.

The other person I’d never seen.  Terrell introduced him as G.C.  He wore a leather jacket over a red golf shirt and had a gold watch on his wrist.  He didn’t say much.  G.C. shook my hand suspiciously and then stood against the wall.  He held a thick manila envelope filled with papers.  G.C. appeared to be in his late thirties, much older than the rest of us.

“Brandon’s going to be working with us on this,” Terrell said to the two others.  “He’s a smart, hungry kid who has my trust.  Let’s get him up to speed so we all know what the fuck we’re doing.”

The ensuing few hours was a blur.  First, I learned that DeAnthony worked as a mechanic at a small auto repair that doubled as a chop shop.  G.C. worked for a home security company as a locksmith and installer of house alarms. 

G.C. opened the manila envelope in his hand.   He placed a stack of papers on the bed.  Terrell had his own papers in his closet which he took out.

I learned that every paper pertained to a large multi-story house in a wealthy Memphis suburb and the family who lived inside it.  They had scouted it for months and had tons of information, including floor plans and lists of valuable items in the house and their specific locations.

The house was occupied by a man and a woman, married, in their mid-forties with two sons, aged nine and eleven.  We had detailed descriptions of what they looked like, their car models, license plate numbers, their places of employment, the kids’ school, and the addresses of their family members in town.

Their daily schedules and habits were cross-referenced over months, as was the schedules and habits of all their neighbors.  We knew the exact type of locks they had on every door and window.  We knew the security system they had inside the house.  Most importantly, we knew they had airplane tickets booked the next week to go out of town for Thanksgiving.

This was only one of several houses Terrell, G.C., and DeAnthony had been tracking, but the time had come for final planning on this one.

The four of us pored over all the information and memorized it.  We then quizzed each other to make sure we remembered it.  Terrell dictated the precise procedure of what we were going to do – what day we’d go to the house, at what time, what each of us would do, in what order we’d do it, and exactly how long it would take us.

Terrell told me my job was to collect specific items of value along with anything else valuable I saw as fast as possible.  He took a piece of paper and pen and wrote out exactly what items I was personally responsible for.  He wouldn’t let me keep the paper though.  He made me commit it to memory, then give the paper back.  We were to meet two more times at Terrell’s before the night we’d actually perform the burglary – again going over all the information, our objectives and the exact procedure.  Nothing was to be left to chance.  And if something did go wrong, we had contingencies and enough knowledge to improvise against the unforeseen.

At one-thirty on the cold November morning after Thanksgiving, I walked the dark empty streets to Terrell’s house.  He was already in the driveway, inside a white pick-up truck.  I got in the passenger seat.  “You drive a pick-up?” I asked.

“Yeah.  Why?”

“I’d picture you driving something else.”

Terrell shrugged.  “It was my grandfather’s.”

He drove us a few miles out of our neighborhood to a small vehicle-repair garage called Budd’s Auto Body where DeAnthony worked.  DeAnthony and G.C. were already there, their respective cars parked around back.

The family we targeted had two vehicles – a dark blue Chevy Suburban and a silver BMW.  They had driven the Suburban and left it in the airport’s long-term parking.  In response, DeAnthony had procured a Suburban for us to drive so that we could drive onto their street and park in their driveway without being too conspicuous.  The one he found was a year older, black instead of blue, though it looked the same under the night sky.

We piled into the Suburban and DeAnthony drove us out to the suburbs.  The house sat on a large piece of property in a newly-developed and poorly lit neighborhood.  The driveway led to a closed garage on the side of the house.  We parked and G.C. and Terrell exited the car and went to the back door.  G.C. had brought a bag of locksmith tools to quickly and efficiently get inside.  He got the back door open almost immediately and he and Terrell entered the house and disabled the security alarm.  Within the next couple minutes DeAnthony received a text message from Terrell for us to join them and get to work.

Adrenaline rushed through my body.  Luckily, the hours of memorization kicked in and I acted without thinking.  Terrell had turned on a couple dim lamps to increase visibility without drawing too much attention.  We all wore gloves to avoid fingerprints and we each had a duffel bag.  In the den I took two laptop computers and a couple video game systems.

I moved to the master bedroom.  Against one of the walls was a large dresser which belonged to the husband of the family.  Inside the drawers were dozens of watches.  He was a collector and had everything from Timex to Rolex, and I took them all.

Across the room from me was Terrell.  He looted the wife’s dresser, stuffing handfuls of jewelry into his duffel bag.  I glanced over as he grabbed gold, silver, diamonds, and platinum of all shapes and sizes.  I smiled, curious how much money we’d make.

We were finished in fifteen minutes.  DeAnthony had found the keys to the silver BMW in the garage.  Terrell took the keys for our Suburban.  We turned the lights off and left the house in perfect condition, minus certain items.  We drove back to Budd’s Auto Body and parked out back.

DeAnthony drove the BMW into the garage.  He was about to pull an all-nighter deconstructing the car.  Terrell loaded the duffel bags of swag in the back of his pick-up.  He knew a broker who would purchase it all.  That money along with what DeAnthony made off the car would be pooled together, and we’d all make a cut.

Payday for me was the following Monday.  Terrell had told me to come to his house after school.  I walked back to his bedroom where he was smoking.  He handed me a white envelope filled with cash.  I counted it: fifteen-hundred dollars.

“You did a good job,” he told me.  “But I want to tell you something, just to be honest.  You didn’t make as much as the rest of us.  G.C. did most of the work scouting everything out.  And me and DeAnthony got everything sold off.  Since you’re the new guy and didn’t contribute as much, they both felt the earnings shouldn’t be split equally.”

I happily counted my money again and barely heard what he said.  When I looked up, Terrell appeared concerned that I may have felt cheated.

              “Don’t worry,” he said.  “Stick with us, be smart, and I’ll make sure you get your fair share.”

              I nodded and smiled.  “When it comes to money, I don’t have to have the most.  I just want a lot.”

             
Chapter Ten

My sister Ariel became a hard worker.  She applied to every store in the Oak Court Mall and got a job at Kendra’s Shoes, which specialized in female footwear.  After school each day Ariel took the city bus to work and returned home around ten every evening.  On the bus, Ariel did her homework and maintained a near-perfect grade point average.  I barely saw or talked to her anymore.

Together, we planned to buy a car.  I told Ariel about my working relationship with Terrell but I didn’t tell her how much I made.  I had more than enough to pay half for a used car, but I kept my mouth shut.  Unsure of how well Ariel was saving her money, I didn’t want her pressuring me to buy the car now and promising to pay me back.

When she eventually saved up her share, we spoke about what type of car to buy.  Ariel wanted something flashy like a sports car.  I wanted something dependable and cheap with good gas mileage.  “We buy anything too nice or too pretty and we’re going to walk outside the day after we get it and it’ll already be gone,” I argued.  “Let’s just get something that works and we can hold onto any extra cash we have.”

Ariel relented and said I could decide.  With her busy schedule, I had more time to car-shop anyway.  She only asked that I don’t buy anything too ugly.

I hoped DeAnthony could hook me up with a deal, so I went to Terrell.  He opened the front door of his house with a beleaguered expression.  His grandmother was in her bedroom taking a nap.  With him in the living room was his off-again, on-again girlfriend Tameka.  She was beautiful with a curvaceous body and a fierce demeanor.  Depending on her mood, she seemed she could as easily make love to you as punch you in the mouth.

I introduced myself and shook her hand.

Looking past me at Terrell, Tameka shook my hand and asked, “Brandon, do you know what the fuck Terrell spends all his time on?  ‘Cause he can’t seem to find no time for me.”

I looked at Terrell who flopped into a chair and tried to ignore her.

“Maybe he’s got no time ‘cause he’s too busy with the ho’s he’s always sees at the club.”

“Will you quit with that shit?” Terrell asked wearily.  “Stop your hollering with my grandma sleeping.”

“Oh, please.  Please.  With all due respect to your grandma, you know there’s no way in hell she I’m gonna wake her ass up,” Tameka shouted.  “I don’t hear you tellin’ me to quiet down when you have me over here to fuck me, worrying about your grandma hearin’ then.”  She moved closer, getting more in his face.  “Who is it then?  If it ain’t a skank from the club, then who you messin’ with around here?  Tell me and I’ll knock that fuckin’ bitch out.”

Stuck in the room with them, I didn’t know what to do.  I thought to leave, but wanted Terrell to get ahold of DeAnthony.  Suddenly I blurted out, “I don’t think he’s cheating on you.”

Their heads snapped toward me.  Afraid Tameka might beat me up, I tried to explain.  “It’s none of my business, but Terrell tells me all the time how much he cares about you.”

Tameka stepped back from Terrell and stared at me.

I stood apprehensively.

She looked back at Terrell.  “You know what?  I don’t have time for this mess, anyway. You know who I really feel bad for?  Your grandma.  She’s gotta live with your ass.  God have mercy on a sweet woman like that having to depend on you.”  Tameka grabbed her purse and slammed the front door as she left.

I took a deep breath.  “She seemed angry.”

“She’s always angry.”  Terrell chuckled.  “Angry is her default mode.  That wasn’t even angry for her.  What you saw is her version of foreplay.  We were just getting going until you interrupted.”

I smiled.  “I’m not sure if that’s fortunate for you or not.”

“I’ve known her since high school.  I guess I like it on some level.”

Terrell called DeAnthony and told him the type of car I wanted.  DeAnthony said he had something right now if we came over.  In his pickup Terrell drove us to Budd’s Auto Body.  In the back lot was a used, bluish-silver Toyota compact in immaculate condition.  DeAnthony allowed us to take it out for a test drive.

“What do you think?” I asked and sped down a side street.  “DeAnthony wouldn’t sell me a car with something wrong with it, would he?”

“Naw, he likes you,” Terrell reassured me.  “Take his word if he says it’s a good car.”

I nodded and thought a moment.  “Does G.C. like me?”

Terrell glanced at me and shrugged.

The transaction with DeAnthony was quick and easy.  He offered me a low price and I paid with cash.

Despite its lack of glamor, Ariel called the car cute and liked it mostly because it was hers.  Since we co-owned the car, we split time on it and did our best to accommodate each other.  If one of us needed it, we’d tell the other in advance.  Or if we both wanted the car, one of us would give the other a ride.  Instead of Ariel taking the city bus to work, I began driving her to the mall and picking her up at night.  I didn’t mind since it allowed us to talk more and reconnect our relationship.

On Saturdays at the mall Ariel worked and I often shopped.  With a steady cash flow from working with Terrell, I felt comfortable for the first time in my life spending money on new clothes, music, and other items I wanted but didn’t necessarily need.

I also visited the shoe store and saw Ariel and her coworker, a sixteen-year old girl named Cassie.  Cassie had light brown hair, often braided or in pigtails, and very fair skin.  She and Ariel had become fast friends.  After working together during the week, Ariel often went home with Cassie on Fridays and spent the entire weekend with her, working during the day and hanging out at night.  Cassie lived across the city from us in a wealthy neighborhood.  She was our age and went to high school at St. Agnes, a nearly all-white private college-preparatory.

After shopping at the mall, I’d meet Ariel in the food court for lunch.  One Saturday she asked, “What do you think of Cassie?”

I sipped a coke.  “I don’t know.  She’s your friend.”

“I mean, do you think she’s pretty?”

“Yeah.”

“She likes you.  I can tell her you’re interested in someone else if you’re not into her.”