CHAPTER 4

ABBY HUES

The night was beautiful; it’s like you could see every star in the sky, I thought as I left the hospital heading home. I was overdue for my man. We both had been working so hard, especially him. Chris has been helping with the tactical thingy so he’s been putting in extra hours, more than I wanted. I was going to surprise him with his favorite meal; pepper steak and rice with onions and gravy. I just needed to pick up a few things, like bell peppers and onions plus a bottle of a wine and Girly Jane some treats. We’ll have a candle lit dinner, a bubble bath with aromatherapy then make love until we collapse, I thought. I had good news to share with him and couldn’t wait until he makes it home.

The grocery store wasn’t crowded and I moved methodically from aisle to aisle grabbing what I needed while talking on my phone with my girlfriend, Candice from work about her plans. I pushed the cart to the register and placed my items on the counter and waited for the total. I paid $18.70 and carried my two bags slowly through the parking lot. I noticed lights behind me so I moved closer to the parked cars to my left, giving the vehicle enough room to pass by. This was once a nice neighborhood, but now I hated where we stayed. Since we’ve been there since we were kids, I didn’t mind putting up with it a few more years until we could upgrade.

The vehicle slowed on the side of me and a black man with a shaggy beard and squeaky voice from the driver side backseat spoke, “’Cuse me, ‘cuse me, do you know how to get to 71south or 480west?” he asked, stopping next to me. I never stopped walking with both hands full. Politely, I shook my head no, praying they didn’t get offended.

He gave me a long stare and waved his hand to the driver to keep going, as they rode pass me. I heard him say “that bitch acting funny”. I exhaled finally making it to the back of my Dodge Magnum. The bag that I held in my right hand I placed on the ground to dig the keys out to unlock the door. Chris would have killed me, if he knew I parked so far from the door and not already having my keys in my hand, as soon as I came out the store. A chill shot down my spine and I didn’t know why. Fumbling with the keys, I finally hit the chirp on the fob and placed the bag in the backseat. The radio was on 93FM and “I Did You Wrong” by Pleasure P played through the 6x9 speakers. One of the speakers pops because it was blown and Chris hadn’t gotten around to changing it.

I watched the trappers, the new name for drug dealers, walking back and forth on the street or standing in front of the abandon houses or bandos, as they call them now, selling whatever they could to make a dollar. Whenever they saw me or my car, out of respect for Chris, they would leave the area. Although they would return, but they paid homage so Chris wouldn’t make it hard for them, while they sold drugs, shot craps or just drank.

The neighbors weren’t bad. They have a lot of homeowners whom also seen the area change from majority white, to mainly black and Hispanic with liquor stores and churches on every corner. Chris had a few of his vice friends bust a couple dealers after Chris warned them to leave the area while kids and elderly are out, but after nine pm. He didn’t care. After that, they understood it wasn’t that he was condoning it, but they all had to cohabitate to deal with a bad situation.

I maneuvered my Magnum in front of our house and positioned both bags in my arms then shut the back door of the car by bumping it with my hip. The feeling I had in the store parking lot shot up my spine again and a knot was in my stomach, but I shook it off since I was home. I placed the bags by the front door and fumbled for the right key to the lock. As the lock tumbled to unlock, the door was hurled open from the inside. I was grabbed around my throat and snatched in. The groceries were knocked over by my feet. Tears of fear rolled down my cheek as I thought of my good news that I would never get to share with my husband. The sounds of Girly Jane barking her little head off faded quickly.

CHRISTIAN HUES

This was the biggest bust of my career, and we found out that these guys were already under surveillance by the feds mainly Roberto Camino. The drug transporting trail stretched from Houston through Chicago then Cleveland and Detroit ending in Harlem, New York and Roberto Camino orchestrated this along with these other guys. I owed Linda big time. That ten thousand can’t compare to what we accomplished tonight, I thought as they inventoried all drugs. The street value of the drugs was estimated at about twenty million and just from ear hustling the federal agent’s conversation, so far seven million in currency. This was my all-star moment.

“Det. Hues!” Federal Agent Sulter yelled over the commotion of officers, agents, on-lookers and reporters. I had my phone glued to my ear. “Hey baby girl, I think I’ve done it. Turn on channel nineteen news at eleven. Me and the boys are going to celebrate, so I’ll be home soon; love you.” I marked the message as urgent.

Agent Sulter walked in my direction with calculated steps in a confident glide. His suit was dark grey not one wrinkle, as if he just put it on. “You got a minute?” he asked, while running his hand across his paisley printed tie. Agent Sulter extended a hand. We were about the same height but I had a broader build. He possessed that all American smile with Calvin Klein model features. We shook hands firmly.

“You got that feeling?” he asked.

“Feeling?” I repeated completely lost. “What do you mean?” I asked, frowning a bit. “You know, that adrenaline rush from the bust?”

“Man,” I said finally getting it. He placed his arm around my shoulder as we walked away from everybody. They were focused on Capt. Conner giving a brief synopsis of tonight’s success.

“Just curious, not that it matters, how did you stumble across our guys?” Jack asked.

I paused for a moment not sure how much to tell this fed, plus Linda isn’t registered as my informant. “One of my informants witnessed a lot of guns while visiting one of the guys, actually,” I advised, given a partial truth.

“How did you guys find out about them?” I inquired.

“Believe it or not, some locals in Chicago intercepted some Ohioan’s with three hundred thousand in their luggage wrapped in plastic hidden in the pants leg of folded jeans. Their phone had calls that led to these knuckleheads, but this is just the tip of the iceberg.” He faced me staring me directly into the eyes with a serious expression. “I’ve heard good things about you, especially catching wind to this.” Taking a deep breath, he continued. “Listen, I need a guy.” His hand rested on my shoulder now. “I need someone on this side that has that intuition and knows what’s going on.” He sounded like a used car salesman, trying to flatter you with bullshit by playing your buddy. I didn’t mind a little praise since my hard work is rarely acknowledged.

“What exactly are you asking of me?” I pressed, hoping Agent Sulter got to the god damn point!

“Listen,” he said, tucking his shirt in his pants, although his clothes were fine. “When you believe you have something good like this, give me a heads up. I’ll make sure that these pieces of shit get locked up with LeBron James numbers and not all this ‘plea bargain five-year state’ shit because some cock sucker lawyer finds a loop hole.” He gave the dramatic pause, with that, ‘I’m going to let that sink in’ look.

He was fired up like a Tony Robbins motivational speech. “Not saying the law, we swore to uphold is corrupt, it just needs a little fine tuning. What I’ll do is give you a few days to enjoy this victory. This moment was a big win for us, thanks to you!” Pointing his finger in my chest, not hard, but I got the point. “Think about this. With me behind you, these drug thugs are definitely in trouble. Here’s my card and again good job.” Smacking me on the shoulder, he turned walking back towards his team throwing both his arms over his head saying “yes”.

Agent Jack’s team waited in an all-black ford Excursion. I stared at the card he gave me. I really was sold on the idea and couldn’t wait to discuss it with my Abby. We all headed to Skeet’s lounge on 93rd for a small victory celebration. It was a rock throw from the fourth district. I needed a drink, especially feeling a bit more confident about my choice to stick to my dream of changing how Cleveland has been policed.

After two drinks, one as a tribute to Juan Rivera, Det. Webber stood and said over the music, with sincerity in his tone, “To you friend, it’s nights like tonight that reminds us why we do this shit! Salute.” Everybody said “to Rivera”. I threw back my tequila shot. I couldn’t help but wonder if my Abby got tied up at the hospital. She would’ve called to congratulate me after my voicemail; that’s weird, I thought.

It was a hot Tuesday night. The hottest radio station in Cleveland, 93FM wzak was in the bar doing live music and karaoke streaming over the radio. A couple was on stage singing Rick James and Tina Marie’s, “Fire and...