Ghetto Girls IV. Anthony Whyte

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СКАЧАТЬ and some reasons why these people were murdered!”

      The detective’s bellowing didn’t rattle Eric, who calmly adjusted the yellow diamond cuff links on his Gucci shirt.

      “I was shot,” he said. “You’ve had me cooped up in this office all morning trying to get me to answer questions on shit I don’t know about. I guess you don’t know when to quit, huh?” Eric was looking at the gun.

      “Why did he want you dead?”

      “Maybe he was a disgruntled fan. He didn’t like my last song. I don’t know. Maybe you know dick.”

      The detective was rattled and grabbed Eric by his shirt collar. Eric rose to his feet as the detective continued shaking him.

      “He may have missed that time you sonofabitch! There’ll be other chances to prove just how tough you are!” Kowalski screamed.

      Two uniform officers came busting through the door. They fought and struggled to get the detective off Eric. During the commotion, Eric was hit twice in the face before they finally dragged the irate Kowalski away.

      “You better cut a deal right now. The price on your head guarantees you’ll be back begging for our help,” Kowalski shouted as he was pulled out the office. “You’re gonna be begging—”

      “Muthafucka get outta my face,” Eric muttered while examining his torn shirt. A couple minutes later, a uniformed officer returned. “That muthafucka must be crazy,” Eric said. looking at his injured arm. \Another officer approached him.

      “They giving you a hard time?” the officer asked.

      “This shirt must be offensive,” he sighed, shaking his head.

      “You can leave. Your lawyers have bailed you out,” he said.

      Eric got up and adjusted his clothes. The chief stepped in front of him, looking him up and down.

      “I don’t like your kind. You rap millionaires wearing your expensive clothes trying to pass yourselves off as decent people…”

      “I’m not a rap millionaire, I’m a music producer I do all types of—”

      “Whatever you are, all the hip-hop-pity-shit makes no difference to me. At the end of the day, you’re still a criminal so you better be prepared to pay them high price lawyers a lot of damn money. You can guarantee one thing. We will get you. Go on back to your studio and put it in a damn song, Mr. Music Producer.”

      He was mean-grilling so close to Eric that blobs of spit crashed into his face. Eric pulled out a silk handkerchief and wiped his face.

      “You made your point,” Eric said before walking out the office.

      Kowalski, the chief and his superiors were staring at him as if he were a prize. They watched Eric strut to the front desk and shake hands with his lawyer.

      “We need constant surveillance on him. He’s a tough guy with a soft heart. Let’s find where he’s slipping and then let’s pounce. Give him a lot of attention, I want wiretaps to go over his telephone records. He’s connected somehow. Find me something so I can nail the nigga to the wall,” the chief ordered. “We’ve got to wrap this case and very soon. We need the murderer caught. The department already lost a couple of good men in this one. We can’t afford to drag this one too long, especially you Kowalski. He helped to kill your partner. Now get on your jobs!” the chief ordered.

      A group of detectives huddled and as Eric walked by, they nodded and dispersed. Eric stood at the front desk and conferring for a few minutes with his attorney. They walked away still in conversation.

      “Are you alright, Eric? Everything is alright. But apparently someone from their side notified the media. The news hounds are waiting outside. I’ll handle them if you want me to.”

      “I want you to handle them. I’ll... I’ll...” Eric was worn out.

      His attorney turned and looked at the precinct commander, smiled and continued walking. Outside flashbulbs went off and reporters bumrushed the pair. Eric shook off the early morning sluggishness he felt and gave a good performance with a smile. Pictures were taken and the attorney started answering questions. Eric kept walking but was unable to avoid the ugly glare of the cameras and queries.

      “How was your stay Mr. Ascot?” a paparazzo asked.

      “How’d you like to be cooped up in a police precinct answering questions all night without being charged? And to make matters worse, I was the victim of a crime. Despite all that provocation, I’m doing real well. My songs are popping off the charts and I’m about to embark on a new project…”

      “Why were you in taken in?”

      “I don’t know. Maybe the detective is a strong advocate for censorship of my music.”

      “What was the charge?”

      “No charges have been leveled at Mr. Ascot at this time or any other time. An apparent robbery attempt was made earlier today…” the attorney started.

      Eric slipped past the crowd, blinking and reaching for his shades, when he spotted someone who looked like Sophia. He stared and he felt a rush of adrenalin when he realized it was indeed his ex-fiancée.

      “Well, I see you’ve not lost all your usual charisma, Mr. Ascot,” Sophia said, smiling.

      “Sophia, what the hell are you doing here?”

      “Don’t worry. At the behest of my boss, I’m here to get your signature on some of Busta’s paperwork. Otherwise, I would not come and see you. This is strictly business!”

      The impatience in her tone drew a cautious stare from Eric. Sophia was his fiancée but after Busta was killed, he had to sure up security. Eric did so with the help of the Maruichi brothers. They were linked to organized crime. Citing fear for her life and reputation, Sophia walked away. Eric pulled up his Marc Jacobs goggles, wrapping his eyes while looking searchingly in hers. The love was there but she had lost respect for his ways. He smiled easily.

      “Business, huh?” he asked.

      “Yes Eric, business. I don’t want to know why you’re in and out of jail.”

      “I’ve been held and interrogated by the police and you come—”

      “I’m not interested in your ghetto point of view,” Sophia said, raising her hand.

      “I see you haven’t lost the nasty little attitude of yours. Do you want to discuss this business here, or should we go somewhere else where you can rake me over the fire in private?” Eric asked, looking around for a cab.

      “I’ve got the firm’s chauffeur if you want to go somewhere,” Sophia said, turning away from Eric. His eyes checked her out from head to toe. He licked his lips and felt the lump in his throat.

      “Good. Give me a ride cross town,” he said with his eyes riveted on her backside.

      “What’s across town?”

      “I have to get Deedee,” Eric said casually.

      “Oh, СКАЧАТЬ