Neighborhood Watches

“Farrell, my office.”

The sergeant was one of few words. Barking orders without pleasantries was commonplace in the station. Farrell initially ignored him and continued with his paperwork until he was startled by another boisterous bark.

“Now!”

He was annoyed, but he obeyed Sarge’s order and quickly shuffled into his office. Sarge was already sitting looking through paperwork.

“Sarge?”

“Farrell,” he replied without looking up, “The Thomas case has seemed to stall. Or shit it completely stopped. The deputy mayor is on my ass to get this thing wrapped up.”

He handed Farrell Malik’s juvenile mugshot and Farrell looked at it quizzically.

“He’s released this to the media and set up a tip line. You and Ross will man the line in the morning then follow up in the afternoon. At night, the number will be programmed to either of your cellphones.”

Farrell shook his head.

“I know it seems like a lot of work, but this…”

“No Sarge it won’t be. I can almost guarantee it.”

Sarge looked up and frowned.

“No disrespect, you don’t know the people here like we do. No one is gonna call. They’re afraid of retaliation.”

“Well no disrespect, detective, but I’m fearing retaliation from the mayor. So, it starts tomorrow. Figure out who’s gonna take the line first.”

In a flash he was gone leaving Ross and Farrell chomping at the bit.

“This is gonna suck.” Ross said tossing the mugshot onto his desk.

“Nah, it ain’t gonna be that bad. Like I told Sarge, ain’t nobody gonna call, so at least we’ll be able to get this paperwork done.”

“Let’s hope so.”

***

Malik wasn’t ready to make this trip to east bumblefuck. He pressed his phone and waited while it rang until Stacey answered.

“Hello?”

She sounded out of breath.

“Ma? You aiight?”

In a rushed whisper she responded, “Yeah, yeah, I had to hurry to get the phone cuz I just got your sister to sleep. Somethin told me it was you. I’m glad it’s you. You okay boy?”

Malik kinda chuckled to himself, “Yeah Ma I’m fine. I just wanted to let you know that I’m gonna be outta town for a while.”

The lull of silence echoed with disappointment.

“How long is a while?” Stacey asked smirking while washing out bottles.

“I dunno Ma.”

She sighed heavily, “Boy, you gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

“I’m not tryin…”

“I know you don’t mean to, and part of it may even be my fault…”

“Ma don’t. I’m a grown man…”

“I don’t wanna hear that shit Leek. You’re still my baby boy.”

This time the silence was somber.

“I do have some good news,” Malik said trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“I met someone.”

As if the sun creeped through the kitchen window, Stacey’s whole world lit up, but she didn’t even have thirty seconds to celebrate her joy. Malik’s mugshot flashed across her television screen just as he spotted Sticks’ truck in the valet area of the hotel. Man and a bellhop were putting Malik’s belongings into its trunk.

“Ma, listen, I gotta go. I love you kiss Atiya for me.”

“But…”

He had hung up before she could tell him what she saw.

At that moment, Sticks opened the back door and ushered Malik inside as he followed “Well hello to you too.” Malik quipped.

“Very sorry Mr. Douglas that we do not have the time to exchange pleasantries, but we’re late.

He tapped Man’s head rest and the truck cautiously left the casino area until it was safe to speed down the highway. The rest of the ride to the airport was uneventful. Sticks had Malik write down any necessary contacts from his phone then swapped it for the burner. He then described Jasmine, her vehicle, and what would happen during his stay.

“Any questions?” Sticks quipped with annoyance.

“Besides the attitude, nah.” Malik replied with his hand out.

Sticks snarled, “The fuck you want a handshake?” Surprisingly, his voice cracked causing Man to gaze into the rearview mirror to assess the situation. Sticks chuckled nervously but regained his composure to exchange a playful handshake with Malik.

“Nah, I’m just fuckin with you Soldier”

“Yeah aiight; so, I don’t need no ticket or nothin?”

“Nah, homie. You flyin the real first class.”

As Farrell and Ross entered the airport terminal along with a dozen or so of the city’s finest officers followed by an overzealous news crew or two, Sticks’ truck was driving onto a tarmac leading to a private jet