It was just short of noon when the police stepped out on 86th Street after concluding a preliminary investigation. Kareem stood there in pajama bottoms with his arms crossed as he watched the NYPD hop into their cheap vehicles. They did not take a missing person’s report, but they did stand around and listen to Kareem’s story, which they viewed as fiction, and they were not required to look at it differently. A grown woman gone for all of a few hours was not worthy of a missing person’s report. Nor was Kareem’s problem worthy of the mass amount of attention that would be dedicated to a person missing in the City that Never Sleeps.
Kareem watched the two officers hop into their car and he admired the female officer’s cleavage once more before he shut his front door. He walked to the family room and threw himself on the sofa. He rubbed his hands over his face and shook his head. He was disgusted and lost. He hated when he had no control and he could never control the unknowing. Over and over, he asked himself if Toi had been kidnapped. He was fully aware that McKenzey had a bevy of corrupt followers that were dedicated to doing anything that they could to show that they were loyal. Kidnapping Toi, or anyone else connected to the Bezel brothers, was not out of the scope of things that Kareem had expected.
There were pictures of Toi and him all over the family room and that began to take a toll on him. The room began to spin with confusion. Toi seemed to have preferred him at a distance, which was not the plan that he wanted for them. Seemed that she had been granted her wish, and now he was left to deal with the madness. He envisioned that if she was missing, the kidnappers were designing things to appear that he had been responsible for her disappearance.
Kareem stood and was prepared to just lie in bed and wait for the call; which call he had no idea. The call from the coroner. The call from a lead detective for him to come in for questioning. Or the call demanding money from the kidnappers. As he brooded, his cell phone rang and he thought, here we go.
The caller ID read: PRIVATE. And Kareem surmised that the call would be private.
“Hello,” he said cautiously.
“Reem, it’s Dre.”
“Dre who?” Kareem asked and knew full well who it was. He was just confused, and he asked, “How are you calling me direct?”
“The captain gave me a call.”
“Are you okay?” he asked the obvious. He could not understand what the hell was going on. Two monkey wrenches being thrown at him in a matter of hours was too much to bear.
“I am fine, but I need you to do something for me.”
“That is?” Kareem asked and then said, “We’re being recorded, right?” He had to know what he was up against before he answered any questions, or incriminated himself, or committed to doing something that was out of his reach or he was just not going to do.
“I am not sure if you know about the events going on in this jail with me, but I’m in trouble and I got some shit started.”
“Stop right there. Is this call being recorded and are we being monitored. I need to know that before we proceed.”
“I need for you to get the media from in front of the jail, man.”
Kareem was fully aware that he was being monitored. He knew what had been happening in the jail; hell, he orchestrated it. And he knew that Andre did not answer his question because they were being monitored. How else would he be calling direct?
A light chuckle was followed by, “Um bro, what are you talking about?”
“Man, on grand mom, get the media from in front of the jail.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but if you insist, I will make an attempt to do that.”
“No. Don’t try! Do it.”
“Or else?”
“Or I won’t get what I was promised in exchange for you making that happen!”
The call was terminated along with Kareem’s spirit. Just when he had thought that he had it all figured out. He raced up to his room and dialed Tasha and he threw on some clothes. She answered on the very first ring.
“Sis, get the media from in front of the jail. I know this sounds strange, but mission has obviously been accomplished.”
“Why you say that, bro?”
“I just got a call from Dre and he asked me to. That was never in the plan, but I believe he has shaken everything up in there.”
“Don’t get it, but I will. You need to tell me some more about this overall plan.”
“No, I don’t, Tash. Just go with the flow. Are you in jail?”
“No, but...”
“You’re speechless. You know that it’s because of me that they did not at least arrest you and have you on bail with home monitoring and curfew until the outcome of the case. Just work with me. I am going to forward you the contact list of media reps outside the jail. Please go to a pay phone in Jersey and call them. Just cross the Ben Franklin Bridge and take the Atlantic Avenue exit on the right as soon as you’re in Jersey. Drive straight up to Broadway and make a right. Go until you reach the transit center. I know that there are plenty of pay phones there. You got all that.”
“Yes. I got it. Send the numbers. Are there cameras in there?”
“Not sure. Check and improvise if you have too.”
“Okay, I have it.”
“Cool,” Kareem said and was about to hang up.
“Kareem?”
“Yes.” What was the problem, he thought.
“Is Dre coming out of there?”
“Stay tuned. You’ll see.” He had no idea if that statement was true, but he had other calls to make.