Sins of a Siren (39 page)

After hearing he couldn't promise to get her out, she sat back dejected and ignored the last half of his statement. “Damn, Denny, how long am I gonna be stuck in here? It's so borin' here in protective custody, I am tempted to ask them to put me in general population before I go stir crazy. And I am
real
tired of all these dyke-ass guards lookin' like they wanna rape me.”

He shook his head. “No way…every gang in here has a hard-on to collect the bounty the Island Boys have on your head. A few days ago, I spoke to a member of the Island Boys I am defending on another case and told him, what you told me, about Darius and his partner robbing you. I hope that takes some of the heat off you.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “And there's no telling how many crooked C.O.'s Darius could be connected to in here. That bastard
allegedly
has one hell of a network of ‘friends' among the correctional officers.”

“I wouldn't be surprised…that fool is crooked as a barrel of snakes.” Trenda scowled. “Oh, and good lookin' out tellin' your client what went down with Island Boys' money.”

“Don't thank me yet; I just hope they believe it. Speaking of Officer Kain,” he silenced his BlackBerry and tucked it back into the inside pocket of his gray suit coat, “he and his partner hired a very good lawyer—Arnold Medved. He is twice the asshole I am—and just as expensive.”

“I don't get it; why the hell
they
need a lawyer?”

Dennis looked into Trenda's face with a smile. “Well, my friend, it turns out that Baltimore P.D.'s Internal Affairs Department is
investigating Officer Kain and Officer Dash for extortion, dereliction of duty, corruption, and felonious, aggravated sexual battery against one Trenda Fuqua.”

Standing, Trenda's mouth hung open like the entrance to a cave before she could speak. “Are you
bullshittin'?”

Opening his briefcase, he removed a sheet of paper and slid it across the table to her. “Here are the official court documents of the charges against them.”

Information overload made her dizzy. She eased back in her seat. “What the…fuck? How did I get mixed up in this?”

“It appears the P.D. found a video tape of Officer Kain allegedly forcing a young lady to have oral sex with him…on the same tape, they overhear him discussing extortion of said young lady and possibly admitting to other felonious crimes committed by he and his partner. They were really pissed to see all this took place when both officers were supposed to be on duty.” He smirked at her. “Sound familiar?”

Her eyes bulged with shock as she covered her mouth with her hand.
Oh fuck! The tape! They must have found the tape I left at Piper's the night we had the fight!

“Trenda? Are you okay?” he asked, rising from his chair.

She nodded. “Yeah…but…” She found she was still speechless.

“Let me further clarify. You, my friend, are in a very unique position. The D.A. and your P. O. both want to lock you up for violating your parole, crossing state lines and for assaulting Ms. Piper. The Baltimore P.D., on the other hand, needs your testimony in order to get alleged corrupt Officer Kain off the streets and behind bars.”

Trenda let anger replace the shock on her face. “Let's do it! I'll testify against that muthafucka right now!”

He raised his hand and shook his head. “Not so fast, my friend.
We have to be smart about this. I'm sure you are aware this is an election year for the mayor and the city is in financial distress.”

“Yeah, so? I don't give a fuck about this city or the mayor.”

“You might want to…you see, if we can prove the allegations of sexual battery charges against Officer Kain are true, the city can be held responsible for its employee. Meaning they could be sued for a substantial amount.”

The hustler wheels in Trenda's mind began to turn, helping clear her head. “No shit, huh?”

His face became a bit more serious. “It won't be easy; Darius has loaded up with fellow officers and some of his late grandfather's friends who are very respected in the community as well as on the force.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “They are going to go all out to make you out to be a worthless criminal that belongs behind bars. His lawyer, Medved, is well known for his ability to exploit any flaw in a witness he can find. And let's face it, with your record, and the situation with you and the mayor's friend's dead daughter, they have
plenty
of ammunition.”

Her lantern of hope dimmed. “Fuck…I knew shit was too good to be true…”

“S
o you say you just got in town a week ago? No wonder I ain't ran across you on my patrol,” Tyrone said to the tall, thick, fine, coconut-shell-colored hooker named “Cakes” that leaned against his Lexus. “That sexy accent is off the chain! Where you say you from?”

“I'm from the Motherland, honey. The other girls told me how things work here on the Baltimore track.” She flashed him a sweet smile as she stood and rubbed his chest. The light from the street lamp on the corner reflected on her pretty smile. “I'm ready for you, Daddy…ready for you
and
your partner, Darius.” She pulled a set of car keys out of her purse. “I'll meet you at that place you were tellin' me about—the Lighthouse—in thirty minutes.” Cakes showed him the tip of her tongue. “Don't keep me waiting, baby.”

“You ain't gotta worry, sexy.” As he watched her walk away, his disposable cell phone rang. “Wassup?”

“Hey! I got your message. Where you at? We need to hook up so we can talk about our situation. We only have two days before the trial starts; I wanna make sure we are on point. I talked to Medved today and he told me that after he gets finished grillin' Trenda, ain't a jury in the world gonna care about her.”

“Yeah! That's what I'm talkin' about! I'm out here by the Harbor. Let's meet up at the Lighthouse.” His dick trembled as Cakes and her jiggling ass turned the corner. A lusty smile crossed his lips. “You might wanna get in on this; I have a hottie right here
that is ready to be ‘initiated' into the game. After that, we can talk shop. Meet me there in thirty minutes.”

He understood Tyrone's code for breaking in a new prostitute well. The idea of busting a nut in a new piece of ass felt just like the stress relief Darius needed. “I'm on my way.”

“That fool is late as usual,” Darius said as he pulled up to the gate at the Lighthouse. He saw an extremely sexy, tall, woman rise from one of the Lighthouse steps she was sitting on. “But I see our guest of honor is already here.”

Dressed in the same short red mini skirt, red stilettos and tight red half-top that got Tyrone's attention, she proved to Darius that arousal was not one of his many problems. She sashayed up to his car door. “Hi, Mr. Officer,” she said, wiping back the flowing black hair of her cute wig. “I hope you have a taste for a piece of ‘Cake.'”

Reaching out of his car window, he rubbed her large, round ass. “As soon as I open this gate, I'm gonna break me off a
big
chunk of this cake, baby.”

She backed out of his grip, smiled and walked to the gate. “I got it. Bring your fine ass in here so we can do this.”

If it weren't for the stress he was under—and his horniness—he might have noticed the gate was unlocked as she pushed it open. He and Tyrone
always
locked the gate.
Always.
He pulled his Escalade all the way up the driveway and into the large backyard. He then saw Tyrone's car parked near the fence, a few yards ahead of him.
I wonder why she didn't tell me Tyrone was already here?

As soon as he stepped out of his car, watching Cakes pull on a pair of gloves as she walked up the driveway toward him, he felt a strong arm wrap around his neck and a cold piece of steel
against the side of his head. “Quit movin' or me blow hole in you head, blood clot,” a voice whispered to him.

Terror chilled his blood as three ski-masked men emerged from the dark bushes and joined the man currently holding him. Cakes walked up and stood in front of the stunned cop. “I heard you and your partner robbed one of the Island Boys' associates a few weeks back.” One of the men handed her a long, blood-stained machete. She held it inches from his face. “They hired me to get it back. Where is the money?”

For the first time he noticed her foreign accent. She had done a remarkable job of hiding it to this point. “I don't know what the fuck you talkin' about!”

“You mean you don't recall stealing a quarter-million dollars from my employer's transporter?”

Flashbacks surfaced of how he had talked Tyrone into pulling over Trenda and robbing her. He had been tipped off that she was hauling a large sum of cash for a client. After finding the duffle bag of money in her SUV, they took it anyway, even after she told him the money belonged to the Island Boys. Tyrone used most of his share to pay off the $65,000 in back child support he owed the mother of his daughter in Savannah, Georgia and to another baby-mama in Virginia. Darius was also aware that Tyrone blew most of the rest trying to keep up with his extravagant lifestyle. “Hell naw that wasn't me! Look, let me go now and I'll overlook this…I'll call it a case of mistaken identity.”

Ignoring him, she ran the blade across his cheek, drawing blood. “So you're saying you don't have the money?”

“Oww, bitch! Didn't I just tell you I don't know what the fuck you're talkin' about?”

The man holding him pushed him to the ground. All four men cocked their pistols and aimed at Darius. “That's funny; your
partner said the same thing.” She snapped her finger and one of the men walked inside the back door of the Lighthouse. He came back minutes later holding what looked like a bowling ball in the darkness. She took the object from the man and held it up to Darius. One of the masked men shined a penlight on the object in her hand. “Are you sure you don't want to change your answer?”

Darius vomited on the forearm of his captor. “You sick fuck! Oh,
shit
!”

The object Cakes held was no bowling ball; it was the head of his partner. Gripping the handful of Tyrone's hair tighter, she shoved the head in his face. “Last chance, Officer. Give me the money or I take your head. Either one is fine with me. I get paid for my services no matter what.”

The horrific agony on the head's face was too much for Darius. He wilted like a rose in winter. “In the safe in my garage…in the floor under my freezer…”

“That's better.” She handed the head back to the masked man. “Get a pen and paper.”

Minutes later, after having his hands duct-taped behind his back, and being dropped to his knees, Darius gave them the combination to his safe. He had almost half a million dollars in dirty money stashed there. “All right…you got your fuckin' money… just don't hurt my wife.”

Cakes chuckled. “Whatever you say, Officer.” She then whistled softly and two more masked men—wearing long, black rubber aprons and long black rubber gloves—emerged from the back door. “Is his bath ready?”

Darius looked around wildly. “What bath? What the hell is goin' on?”

The shorter of the two men nodded his head. “Yeah…me crack-head friend Thin Tim was right. A month ago he told me for
twenty dollars he would show me something I could use. I found a couple drums of acid in the basement. Nasty stuff. Me dropped a chicken in it and poof! It was gone.”

In her former home of Somalia, Africa, and in the criminal underworld, Cakes was known as the “Black Mamba; assassin extraordinaire.” She nodded toward the open back door of the Lighthouse. “Take him inside.”

Darius yelled with panic. “Hey!
You got your money
! Let me go! What the fuc—”

The same man that tied his hands slapped a piece of duct tape over his mouth.
Quiet
, blood clot!”

After being dragged into the same basement a lot of his victims had ended up in, Cakes ripped the tape off his mouth. “Did you have something to say, Officer?”

Even in the dim light cast by the battery-powered lantern sitting on a dusty shelf, he could tell a pair of yellow, fifty-five-gallon drums of acid were open. His urine escaped as he watched the short man drop Tyrone's head into one of the drums. Fear trumped his bravado as he yelled, “You had best to let me go; don't you know I'm a fuckin'
cop
?”

After being forced to his knees again, the Black Mamba smirked as she hoisted the razor-sharp, bloodstained blade over the terrified Darius and brought it down with amazing force, splitting his head. “You mean you
were
a cop.”