Anthony Whyte

Ghetto Girls Too


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      “Really? The man himself, huh?”

      “Do you know him?”

      “Know him like a book. He’s my kid brother. I’m Detective Hall, by the way,” the dapper detective stated. Their eyes locked as he continued, “He never mentioned you. Mike always talked about the beautiful ones.” He saw the question in Sophia’s eyes. “Looking for the family resemblance?”

      “Yes and no. It was funny that I thought of him when I saw you and now that you’ve mentioned it, there is a family resemblance.”

      “What could it be?” the detective asked.

      “It’s that same nonchalant attitude,” Sophia replied without thinking.

      “Hmm...then you must be a friend of Mike.”

      “Yes. He’s a very good friend. We went to law school together.”

      “Are you a lawyer?” Detective Hall asked.

      “Corporate,” Sophia volunteered and then turned to speak on the telephone for a minute or two. She turned back to the detective. “I have someone here who wants to speak with you,” Sophia said handing the instrument to the detective and walking to where Coco and Deedee stood. “Everything will be fine. You guys are holding up well?”

      “We… I mean, this ain’t nothing new. I’ve seen people shot before. Drug dealers on my block get shot by the police or innocent people are in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s all part of my world, my reality, Sophia,” Coco said as she watched the police at work.

      “God bless your soul, girl. And may you be a better person for it but I hope I never ever witness another death or shooting. I’m saying it would be too soon if it ever happened again.”

      “It’s so unfortunate to be always seeing death and experiencing violence like that, Coco,” Deedee said. Coco’s ears perked as Deedee continued, “You know living in that environment under those conditions has to be difficult. Well, at least that’s the way I see it,” Deedee opined. “This is the first time I’ve seen anyone actually get shot much less killed.” Deedee was interrupted by the appearance of Detective Hall.

      “Here’s your phone. So, you’ve got friends in high places, huh?” he asked as he handed Sophia the cellular. “And you are a very good friend according to my brother,” he said with a suggestive smile and wink.

      Sophia thought of responding in a cold manner to the detective’s flirtatious ways but she bit her tongue and smiled, using this exchange fully to her advantage. There was still the matter of guns being discharged, she thought as she responded. “Mike and I went to the same law school together. Both of us being black, there were only so many of us, you know. So, quite naturally, we wound up at many similar activities. Whether on dates or not, we’d be there squabbling with each other.”

      “He’s a good man and he spoke very highly of you. Sez he knew you very well and I think his office is already handling this case.”

      “Really, I didn′t know that he was investigating little ol’ me,” Sophia said coyly.

      “We’ll go through with some of the formalities. You should be just fine. Everything seems to be in order here but I’ll make sure all is okay. Wonder what’s taking my partner so long? Ah, excuse me, Miss Sophia, let me go check on him.” Detective Hall walked away leaving Sophia with her conflicted thoughts. He had predicted the outcome but deep down she knew it would happen but not his way.

      Michael Thompson always said that if she ever needed him just call. He had been a good friend and she felt that one day their paths would cross again. Sophia had imagined it would be in an election campaign for senator or some other political event. Michael was into politics in a big way. He worked hard to succeed. It was one of the things she had liked about him. Michael Thompson had been the most together brother on campus and since graduation, they had maintained friendly monthly telephone conversations, the type that always ended with unfulfilled promises to see each other. They were busy young attorneys driven to success.

      Sophia had to play her trump card. She had thrown Michael’s name out but had no inkling that they would come across each other under these circumstances. On the phone, he revealed that they would conduct something internal and nothing would come of it since everything pointed to the fact that an intruder had broken into the place and shot a guest. Sophia thought about this and was about to breathe a sigh of relief when she noticed that both the detectives were alone with Eric.

      She hurried off to the kitchen to make sure everything was going according to Eric’s plan. She felt that it was dangerous for him to be alone with the detectives. The girls were being ushered upstairs by uniformed officers as Sophia walked into the kitchen.

      Back in the living room, another officer bent and picked up a gun. He smelled the barrel and scrutinized it. He could tell that weapon had recently been discharged. What the officer did-n’t know was that the gun had once belonged to Kamilla. She had lost it earlier when she was downed by a bullet from Lil’ Long’s gun. It was a simple thing but one that could prove Eric’s story false.

      Every gun has its own history and the one Kamilla carried was given to her by Lil’ Long’s partner in crime and her former lover, Vulcha. He was now dead. Another victim dead from a bullet to the head. His death was courtesy of a rogue cop who was a member of an elusive but organized hit squad scattered throughout the police department. The officer continued to examine the weapon with close interest then slipped it into a plastic bag and marked it as evidence.

      Eric and Sophia walked out of the kitchen and up the steps leading to the second floor. Downstairs remained abuzz with activity, teeming with members of the police’s Crime Scene Unit. They scurried about in an orderly fashion ignoring the medical needs of any of the bodies crumpled on the floor. Laboratory technicians from Crime Scene were taking samples from all over. Someone finally noticed that Lil’ Long’s body was still moving. He watched as the former street hit man clenched and unclenched his fists.

      “I think we got a live one over here,” the technician announced.

      “Aw c’mon, leave the man alone. Can’t you see he’s dying in peace?” There was a smattering of laughter as the techs continued about their business.

      “How much you think a place like this would run you?” The question was not answered. At that moment, the sergeant walked in. All laughter and chatter ceased.

       FOUR

      Lil’ Long felt his body would hold out after the bullets hit but as he laid out on floor bleeding, he began to feel his body shift into uncontrollable movements. The spasms came and his face contorted as the end dawned on him. Here it comes, the shakes. He struggled with the thought and fought hard against surrendering.

      This is not how it should end. Nah, this ain’t the kid’s time to go. Not yet. I’m just not ready to go. Nah, nah, especially, not like this. Lil’ Long wanted to scream but could only grunt in pain. The blood in his mouth suppressed his words. They stayed burrowed deep inside. His mind burst setting thoughts afloat.

      A surge of burning sensation left his senses numb to the discomfort of his journey. His insides wailed against the torment of increasing pain. I can’t go out like this, nah, not like this. Not now. Lil’ Long gripped his fists and willed himself to live as he felt blood stream from his wounds. Eyes cast downwards followed the red path of blood across the shiny wooden floor. Against the white walls of the luxury apartment, tiny splashes of blood red were repulsive against the artwork.

      Police continued to arrive in droves, lightning fast. Lil’ Long thought it was a good thing. He told himself that the paramedics couldn’t be too far behind. He desperately needed one. With all the blue uniforms walking around, you’d think a brother dropped a bomb, he mused.

      Police moved back and forth getting and searching for evidence. Crime Scene with their yellow tape sealed off areas and drew white chalk lines around the