Wifey: Part 2

Jimmy felt somewhat relieved, but he knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet. He quickly scooped his shirt up from off the basement floor and put it on and pulled up his pants.

“The lowest I’m going is three hundred thousand for the nine kilos,” Black Justice said. “Have the cash tomorrow. I’ll have Poppy hit y’all up to arrange the location.”

Jimmy kept quiet, and Jasmine said okay.

Poppy held open the basement door that led upstairs to the kitchen, and Jasmine and Jimmy both headed toward the stairs, Poppy following behind them.

“It’s disrespectful not to roll up a man’s weed for him when you in his spot,” Black Justice said out loud, a sinister grin on his face.

Jasmine, Jimmy, and Poppy made their way up the stairs and out.

“No muthafuckin’ games! Word up!” Black Justice shouted out to Jasmine and Jimmy.

Jasmine and Jimmy made it through the restaurant’s kitchen and then out the front door. They had never been so happy to see daylight.

“I’ll hit y’all and let y’all know what’s up,” Poppy said to Jasmine and Jimmy just before they walked out of the restaurant.

As soon as they got in the car, Agent Gosling asked Jasmine with a real stern voice. “Where is his fuckin’ stash house?”

“I told you to step up your swagger, and you up in there haggling like you at a fuckin’ car auction or some shit. He tell you thirty-five, you suppose to roll with that number.”

“Where the fuck is the stash house, Jasmine?” Agent Gosling hollered.

Jasmine screamed back at him that it was in Yonkers and that they would have to drive to it and she would be able to point it out.

“Gosling, it’s weed we’re talking about. Everybody knows how to roll up weed. Oh, my fuckin’ God!”

“Look, shut the fuck up!” Gosling was seconds from slapping her. He had just gotten punked by a drug dealer and didn’t need Jasmine in his ear.

Gosling drove off, and they headed toward Yonkers. After he had driven about two miles from the restaurant, he pulled the car over, got out, and left it running. He told Jasmine he would be right back.

Gosling called Agent Battle and told her what had just happened at the restaurant. He then told her that he was heading over to Yonkers to drive by Black Justice’s stash house and that he would call her back in an hour. He also told he needed her to get a judge to sign off on three emergency warrants—one for the stash house, one for the restaurant, and one for Black Justice’s residence. He then cautioned Agent Battle against telling the New Rochelle Police Department about the raids on the stash house and Black Justice’s house until all of the FBI teams were in place and were ready to storm the locations.

Gosling was taking a major chance that Jasmine would be right about the location of the stash house; otherwise, it would not only make the FBI look really bad, but it would also put Jasmine’s life in jeopardy on the streets of New York. He was going more on emotion than intellect because Black Justice had just played him. He no longer wanted to wait until the next day and show up with the money to do the deal and then make the arrests. He wanted to get Black Justice off the streets that same day for punking him.

Twenty-Seven

Jasmine was shocked when Gosling told her that Black Justice, Poppy, and ten other members of Black Justice’s drug organization had been arrested. She didn’t feel one ounce of guilt or remorse for the role she played in setting up Black Justice, but she did have doubts about whether major charges would stick. The feds weren’t able to catch him red-handed with major drugs, nor were they able to directly link him to the stash house because the house wasn’t in his name, but they did catch him with an illegal gun and four pounds of marijuana when they nabbed him at the Dominican restaurant.

Jasmine had expressed some concern that Black Justice would quickly beat his charges, and, within a year or so, be back on the streets looking for her. But Agent Gosling tried to assure her that there was enough rock-solid evidence on Black Justice to get him indicted and convicted on a federal conspiracy charge and send him away for a very long time.

It didn’t take long for Jasmine to forget about Black Justice. In fact, three days after he had been arrested, Jasmine was reimbursed by the feds for the money she had spent buying the half-ounce of cocaine, and she received another twenty-five-hundred-dollar installment payment. On top of the money, she also had the keys to a ninth-floor loft apartment in the trendy SoHo section of Manhattan.

Jasmine couldn’t believe her eyes when she walked into the pristine, newly furnished apartment in a building with a doorman. It was way more than she ever could have imagined.

“You like it?” Agent Gosling asked.

Jasmine was beaming. “Are you kidding me?” She knew that only high-end doctors and top runway models could afford to live in SoHo, and here she was a drug dealer’s girlfriend and an FBI snitch, living just as good as them.

After Jasmine had finished touring the apartment, Gosling had to bring her back to reality.

“The apartment is nice, but remember, you have a job to do, so don’t let the apartment become a distraction.”

Jasmine nodded.

Gosling reminded her of her next two targets, Prince and Homicide. He gave Jasmine a rundown of the different intelligence reports the FBI had accumulated on them, including the cars they drove, the clubs where they hung out, the restaurants where they ate, and the different women they were fucking.

Jasmine took in everything that Gosling was saying, and she told him to give her a few days and she would come up with a plan to get close to the two targets.