Black Friday: Exposed Page 4

  “This is Sunshine Miller reporting live for NY1 News. This is the scene where a vicious murder was committed only a week ago. Ahmad Simmons’ body was recovered yesterday by two fishermen who found the deceased floating face down in the Hudson River. After tracking his whereabouts with friends and family the police were lead to this night club. It is in fact the last place Ahmad was seen alive. The following tape that we are about to air has just been released by the New York City Police Department.”

  Kasheef’s jaw hit the floor when he saw a videotape of the inside of his club. It showed himself and Ahmad inside of the office with Alija in the background peeking through the door. Kasheef’s heart felt as if it would beat out of his chest as he watched himself shoot Ahmad on the local news station. It then showed him run out of the room after Alija and later showed three of Kasheef’s goons come to clean up the murder scene. Luckily for Kasheef his face was not recognizable, but to his dismay Alija was easy to identify and he instantly regretted letting her walk out of the club alive. She was the only person who could identify him as the shooter and he was sure that the police would be looking for her. That only meant one thing—he had to get to her first.

  Alija dropped the remote control as she listened to the news broadcast.

  “The extent of this crime is so drastic that the police have released this private footage in order to find citizens who may have any information regarding this offense. The police are asking for help in solving this brutal murder. The NYPD have confirmed that the victim was a suspected drug dealer, so it is a very good possibility that this is a drug related murder. If you know anything that can help in their investigation or if you recognize anyone in this video, please contact the police at (212) 965-0800. Funeral services will commence tomorrow night for Mr. Simmons. The public is welcomed to attend. Back to you Bob.”

  “Oh my God,” she stated. The ringing of her phone caused her to jump.

  “Hello?” she answered her voice barely audible.

  “What in the fuck did you get yourself into? I just saw your face all on the news. Is that what happened the night you came in crying?” Mickey asked. She was talking a mile a minute.

  “I don’t know Mick ...” Alija responded nervously. Tears swelled in her eyes and a huge lump formed in her throat. “I don’t know. I was there and it all happened so fast. I just panicked. I saw him get killed.”

  “And now the whole world knows it,” Mickey stated.

  “What am I gon’ do?” Alija asked.

  “You gon’ lay low that’s what. Just chill out and don’t say nothing to nobody. You’ve still got to live in the hood. You ain’t got the money to get out so don’t let them pigs talk you into snitching. You’ve got my little niece to think about. I’ll be home in a couple hours. We’ll talk more then,” Mickey said.

  “Okay,” Alija answered before hanging up the phone. She went into her bedroom, grabbed her baby from her crib and lay in bed. Her skin crawled as she thought about how her life had just taken a turn for the worst, and for some reason she was afraid to turn out the lights. She stared at Nahla and knew that she was in danger. “I’ve got to get us out of here baby girl ... soon.”

  “Yo, as soon as these lights go out we’re in there. Hit everything moving. ’Sheef said he’d rather be safe than sorry so shorty got to go,” Stick instructed as smoke from the blunt he was smoking escaped from his full lips. He sat outside of the apartment building with two goons behind him. They were there to do a job; to exterminate a problem. They were all working on behalf of Kasheef and knew the importance of what they were about to do because they were the same boys who had cleaned up the murder scene at the club. Their asses were on the line as well, so they had to do the job and do it right. Stick popped the magazine into his 9 mm pistol as he leaned his seat back and watched the building.

  “Let’s just do this. I ain’t sitting here all night yo,” one of the dudes complained.

  “Sit ya’ ass down fam. When the lights go out, we go in ... and not a minute before,” Stick replied.

  Alija couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. She slowly arose from her bed and flicked the lights as she prepared herself for a restless sleep. Nahla began to whimper beside her and she looked over and stroked her chubby cheeks. “What’s wrong mama? Huh? You want your binky?” she asked lightly. Alija arose from her bed and tucked Nahla in snugly so that she couldn’t roll off then went to retrieve her daughter’s pacifier. She had to move quickly because she knew she would never get any sleep if Nahla got cranky. She made her way down the hallway where her daughter’s diaper bag was sitting by the front door. “Shit!” she mumbled as she stubbed her toe on her coffee table while making her way through the dark. She bent down to grab the bag, but froze when she heard voices outside her front door.

  “Kill everybody in this mu’fucka. We’re not leaving any witnesses.”

  Alija’s breath caught in her throat as she put the strap of the diaper bag across her body. She peeked out the door hole and saw three men standing outside with guns in hand. She sprinted back to her room, knocking into furniture on the way. She heard the lock to her front door click and the door open and close, but she didn’t look back. She ran for her life until she reached her room. She knew her house better than her assailants and was able to make it to her daughter before they figured out which way she’d run. She closed and locked her bedroom door, then grabbed her daughter off the bed, trying her best not to make her cry.

  Nahla began to whimper and Alija rocked her as she looked back and forth around the room trying to figure out where she could run.

  “Shh! It’s okay,” she whispered as silent tears graced her face. What the fuck am I gon’ do? She asked herself. All of her windows were barred so that wasn’t an option. She remembered the crawl space above her bed. It was only a small attic like space and she wasn’t even sure if she would fit inside, but she had to try. She jumped on top of her bed and reached up to remove the ceiling tile. She hurriedly placed Nahla inside first before she hopped up herself, the diaper bag still hanging from her body. Just as she slid the ceiling tile back in place, her bedroom door came crashing down.

  “Bitch where are you?” one of the men yelled as he snatched open her closet door. He created so much noise that she felt Nahla stir.

  God please don’t let her wake up. Please, she prayed as she put her hand over her baby’s ear and brought her closer to her chest.

  “Kill all that noise,” Stick instructed. He looked toward the window. “The bitch got bars on her windows so she’s in this mu’fucka somewhere. Find her.”

  Alija slowly rocked her body back and forth as she heard the men tear up her house, overturning furniture and all in their attempt to find her hiding place. Alija was terrified and she didn’t know what was going to happen. She feared for the life of her daughter and she only hoped that the intruders would give up their pursuit. She heard their footsteps travel into the living room and her heart froze when she heard a knock at her front door—

  Knock! Knock! Knock!

  She heard her intruders panic.

  “Oh, shit! It’s the police fam,” one of them whispered.

  Knock! Knock! Knock!

  “Open up! NYPD!”

  It was the first time in her entire life that she was happy to have the police at her house. She stayed in her position quietly contemplating her next move.

  “Sit down and act normal ... hurry up and turn this furniture back over and stash them pistols,” she heard one of the intruders whisper harshly.

  Stick opened up the door and greeted the police, “Hello officers. What can I do for you?”

  “We had some complaints from some neighbors about a disturbance,” one of the officers replied as he stood firmly in the doorway with his hand positioned on his gun holster.

  “We probably did get a little loud officer. You know how it is when you get together with the fellas. I apologize,” Stick answered, laying it on thick.

  The police officer lo
oked around the group of men suspiciously. “Is there anyone else in the house?”

  Stick could’ve shit himself when he heard the female voice behind him say, “No sir, it’s just me and my daughter’s father and a couple of his friends.” She walked out of the room with her daughter held snugly in her arms. Her eyes darted wildly around the room as she tried to remember the faces of the men who had come to do her harm.

  Stick shifted uncomfortably in his stance as he stared a hole through Alija. The officer immediately recognized her face.

  “Ma’am can you come with us please?” the officer asked. “You are wanted for questioning in relation to a murder that happened about a week ago.”

  “A murder? My girl don’t know nothing ’bout a murder, officer,” Stick answered as his forehead began to sweat.

  “I can come with you,” Alija said eagerly, while silently thanking God for showing her a way out.

  The officer nodded and responded, “You may want to leave the child with her father miss.”

  “My daughter goes where I go,” she said harshly. “Now, I’m ready to make a statement.”

  She walked out of the apartment with Stick grilling her as she walked past. He was lucky she didn’t turn him and his friends in. He smirked once he realized the game that the girl had just run on him and his crew. He respected her gangsta though, because she didn’t snitch him out. He just hoped that she lived by the same code when it came to the murder.

  “What was that?” one of the goons asked.

  “I don’t know fam, but let’s get the fuck outta here before our luck runs out.”

  Chapter Five

  That was so stupid. I should’ve turned them in. They are only going to come back for me, she thought regretfully to herself. They’re probably watching my crib right now ... I have to warn Mick.

  She tapped her leg against the floor rapidly, while holding Nahla in her arms. The police had contained her in a questioning room for over an hour now and she just wanted to get this over with. She wasn’t a snitch, but she planned on telling what she knew in order to protect her daughter. The door finally opened and a tall lean man stepped inside the room. He was dressed casually in slacks and a blazer, his badge hanging from his belt on display.

  “Hello Alija, I’m Detective Nielson,” he introduced. “Do you need anything? Are you hungry?” His voice was friendly but Alija was no dummy. She had been born and raised to hate the police so she knew he was playing the good cop role, she just wondered where the bad cop was hiding. “Can you tell me what you know about the night of March twenty-first? What happened at Club Blaze that night?”

  Alija was quiet and her attention was on her child. She was hesitant to look at the detective and she sighed deeply.

  “We know you were there Ms. Bell,” he said, using her last name.

  “His name is Kasheef, he owns the club,” Alija said in a low tone.

  “Is he my shooter?” the detective asked eagerly as he leaned into the steel table.

  Alija nodded.

  “And you will testify to that?”

  “If that is what it takes to protect my daughter then yes. Now I need to call my sister.”

  Kasheef held Norelle in his arms as an uncanny feeling suddenly swept over him. He sat straight up in bed and looked around his room. It was too calm inside of his bedroom. It was as if the entire world had come to a standstill. He didn’t hear the usual voices of the corner boys who were out trying to make a day’s pay, or the sound of neighbors coming in from a late night out, even the hum of the refrigerator had ceased. Everything was silent ... too silent and the hair on the back of his neck stood straight up. He shook his head and told himself that it was just paranoia.

  “What’s wrong babe?” she asked as her brow furrowed with concern.

  “Nothing, it’s just too quiet in this mu’fucka,” Kasheef replied, trying to shake the caution that his sympathetic nervous system was sending out. “Something just doesn’t feel right.”

  Norelle pulled back the covers and revealed her naked, perfectly sculpted figure. “I know something that feels right. Come back to bed,” she enticed as she opened and closed her legs seductively.

  Kasheef crawled on top of her, their tongues intertwining in a passionate kiss, but they were interrupted by the hinges being knocked off of their front door.

  Norelle and Kasheef jumped out of bed, but before they could do anything, their bedroom was swarmed with fully suited swat agents who held automatic weapons pointed their way.

  “Get on the ground!”

  “Get on the ground, now!”

  “Kasheef?” Norelle screamed as she was handcuffed and put face down on the floor.

  Detective Nielson approached Kasheef and slapped the silver bracelets around his wrists. “Kasheef Williams you have the right to remain silent ...”

  “I want a lawyer,” he said calmly and cockily as he cooperated fully with the police. He turned up his nose smugly and looked down at Norelle who was also being read her rights.

  “Norelle!” Kasheef called out to her.

  With her hair wild and her face stained with tears she looked at him. He shook his head from side to side and she already knew what the code meant. He was telling her to keep her mouth closed. Silence was the key when dealing with the police and it was something that the couple had discussed before, but talking about it and having it actually happen was two completely different things. Norelle could feel the panic setting in as she closed her eyes as the police slapped the cold, steel bracelets on her petite wrists.

  Detective Nielson pushed him toward another officer and yelled, “Get him out of here!”

  Before the officer could respond, another cop came into the room with a black duffel bag. “We’ve hit the jackpot,” he announced as he unzipped the bag. The heroine that Kasheef had copped from Belize was packed neatly inside.

  Kasheef instantly began smacking himself for keeping the product inside his crib, but he knew that it was a charge he could beat because the apartment was not in his name. The detective finished reading Kasheef his rights as he was escorted out of the building.

  “I don’t know anything!” Norelle screamed for the millionth time as Detective Nielson asked her the same questions over and over again. “Why are you doing this to me?” she asked. She was distraught. Her hair was a mess and the knot in her queasy feeling in her stomach made it feel as if her dinner would come up at any moment. The police detective was quickly backing her into a corner. She was trying to stay strong and not reveal what she knew, but with every threat Nielson threw her way, he chipped off a piece of her allegiance to Kasheef and she began to think of saving herself.

  “You did this to yourself sweetheart. Dating a drug dealer must make you hot shit, huh?” he grilled. He was leaned in so close to her that she could smell the scent of old tobacco on his breath and she had a front row seat to his crusty, crooked teeth.

  Norelle was silent as she put her face in her hands and shook her head from side to side. She just wanted to get out of there. All she wanted to do was go home and forget that any of this had ever happened.

  “Where were you the night of March 21, 2008?”

  “I was at home,” she answered.

  “And where is home?” the Detective asked.

  Norelle frowned and rolled her eyes, “Where did you arrest me at?” she shot back sarcastically. Her voice was full of irritation as she smacked her lips and sat back in her chair.

  “So that is your apartment?” Nielson asked again, purposely repeating himself to make sure that he established her residency.

  “Yes! How many times do I have to tell you? Yes, that is where I live,” she replied. She had no idea that she had already said too much. The police were merely giving her enough rope to hang herself. With every word that she said she tied the noose tighter and tighter around her neck.

  “Where was Kasheef on the same night?”

  “I already told you he was home with me,” she answered.


  “All night?”

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “What time did you go to sleep?” he asked.

  Norelle didn’t know how she was supposed to answer that question. She was growing frustrated and confused. “I don’t know. I can’t remember. Don’t I get a phone call or something? I know my rights. You can not just hold me here like this. I want to make a call.”

  Carmen looked over at her night stand when she heard the irritating shrill from the ringing of her phone. “It’s four o’clock in the morning. Who is this?” she said in exasperation. She picked up the phone. “Hello?” A sigh escaped her lips as she waited for a response.

  “C ... Carmen?”

  Carmen sat straight up in her bed when she heard the distraught voice. “This is Carmen. Who is this?” she asked.

  “It’s me. I ... it’s Norelle.”

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Carmen asked.

  “I’m in jail. I’ve been arrested and I need a lawyer. They’re trying to get me to say things about Kasheef. I didn’t know who else to call,” she stammered.

  Carmen threw the bed spread from her legs and hopped out of bed. She ran to her closet and pulled out a grey Donna Karan business skirt and silk blouse. “No, it’s okay. I’m on my way. Don’t say anything to anyone else until I get there okay?”

  “Okay,” Norelle said before the line went dead.

  “What in the hell has this girl gotten herself into?” Carmen pondered aloud as she slipped into her clothes. She unwrapped her hair and combed it down around her face and slipped her feet into black three inch designer pumps. Grabbing her keys and her briefcase all in one swift movement—she ran out the door.