Hostile Takeover

“You remember, Carmelita Carty. She’s a Dominican chick, works at Montefiore as a nurse.”

“Long hair, thick accent like she just got off the boat.”

I thought the accent was sexy as hell. But to each, his own, I guess.

“Yeah, I remember her now.”

“Take her there. I’ll call her now.” I looked at the woman. “Go on and go with Bobby. He’s gonna take you to somebody that can take care of you.”

She nodded her head and walked over to Bobby. He put his arm around her and headed for the door.

“What’s your name, honey?” Bobby asked.

“Chocolate.”

“What’s your real name?”

“Cynthia. But everybody calls me Cynt,” she said, and left with Bobby.

I looked at Roscoe’s dead body again and shook my head. I laughed and picked up the phone.

“Even when I don’t wanna kill them, they end up dead anyway,” I said, and locked the door.

Then I dialed Carmelita’s number.

“Hello,” a sleepy sounding Carmelita answered.

“Carmelita, its Mike.”

“Mike who?”

“Mike Black.”

“Mike Black? What are you calling me for … and at this hour of the morning?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, Carmelita, I really am, but I need a favor.”

She sucked her teeth. “You need a favor? Nigga please. I don’t hear from you in over a year, and you call me in the middle of the night and want a favor. You got a lot of fucking nerve.”

“I’m sorry, and if I could have thought of anybody else, I wouldn’t have bothered you.”

She sucked her teeth again. It was kinda her trademark.

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“No, it’s not.”

“What do you want Mike?”

“A woman’s been raped and badly beaten and for reasons I can’t go into over the phone, I can’t take her to a hospital.”

“Why didn’t you say that in the first place? Bring her on Mike, but you owe me.”

“Thank you, Carmelita. Bobby’s on his way to you now.”

“Bobby?” She sucked her teeth. “You know I can’t stand Bobby. Always asking can he fuck me.”

“I will make it up to you, I promise.”