“Frankie Biggs sends his regards,” Robyn stated.
The judge couldn’t believe his ears. A man that he had sentenced to life in prison just weeks before had reached out from behind the wall and ordered his execution. For the right price, the Murder Mamas would hit anyone, including a state judge.
As soon as the judge’s head hit the wooden desk, Robyn stood up and walked out of his chambers. She bypassed the young girl, Melissa, whose head was face first on her typewriter. The cyanide-laced coffee had done its job to perfection.
Without looking back, Robyn exited the building unnoticed, with a satisfied smirk on her face. She waltzed down the stairs outside the front of the courthouse and slipped into the black Benz that was waiting for her curbside.
Aries pulled away discreetly, and without any words, they got ghost in the wind. Aries felt the engine purr beneath the hood of her Mercedes as she pushed the beautiful car along the California coastline. The wind whipped through Robyn’s hair as she pulled off the honey blonde wig that was her disguise.
The mystery that lay behind their designer shades was more deadly than any onlooker could ever imagine. Business was good, as usual. After the tyranny that had taken place in Miami, they had started anew in the City of Angels. There was more money to be made on the West Coast than they had ever encountered before. Leaving bodies in their path, their murder game had soared to new heights.
Still, they couldn’t help but feel like a fundamental piece to their puzzle was missing. What had started out as band of five ladies with murder as an agenda had quickly become four, but then four had turned to three, and now after all the bullshit, the last two were standing. Too many mistakes had caused their numbers to dwindle, and not knowing where Miamor was weighed heavily on both of their minds.
The West Coast had been the plan all along. It had all been Miamor’s idea. They would take Miami by storm and stack their paper, until Murder was released from prison. That had all been tossed aside when Carter Jones entered the picture. Miamor had forgotten her own rules and gotten so caught up in her emotions that she had broken their cardinal rule: Money over everything.
Now Murder was out of prison, Miamor was nowhere to be found, and it was up to them to fill him in on everything that had gone down since the last time he had seen her.
“What are we going to tell him when he asks about her?” Aries asked as they pulled up to the Union Station bus terminal.
“We’re going to tell him the truth: Miamor chose a nigga over him and over us,” Aries replied uncertainly, knowing that Murder would not receive the news well. When they had contacted him to let him know their whereabouts, they never mentioned that Miamor had not relocated to L.A. They hoped to get him there first and inform him later, because they knew he could help them bring Miamor home and talk some sense into her.
Aries pulled into the parking lot of the station and put the car in park as both she and Robyn peered anxiously toward the door.
“Didn’t his bus get here like an hour ago?” Robyn asked.
“He’s here. He’s watching us. Murder don’t move until he’s ready to. That’s where Miamor got it from,” Aries replied confidently as she recalled the many stories that Miamor had shared with her about the man.
Finally, Murder came sauntering out of the station, his pants low, fitted hat worn over his eyes, while his head sat on a swivel neck as he surveyed his surroundings. Even though no pistol dwelled on his hip, his hand was instinctively planted there.
Robyn smirked as she popped the locks for Murder to enter the car. “You’re all the way in Cali. Who you looking for?”
Her tone was playful, but his was not when he replied, “I’ve popped niggas in Cali.” With that, he ducked low in his seat and pulled down his hat as Aries put the car in drive.
“Where’s Miamor?” he asked immediately. She was whom he had made the trip to see. After years of lockup, their reunion was inevitable.
“We have something to tell you.” Robyn turned around so that she was facing Murder. “In the letter we sent you, we didn’t tell you everything.”
“Where’s Miamor?” Murder asked again, almost impatiently.
Aries was silent as she drove. She didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as Robyn spoke up.
“She’s not here. She decided to stay in Miami. She’s fucking with the same niggas that murdered Anisa,” Robyn stated.
Murder’s temperature went through the roof as his jaw tightened and his brown eyes turned black. “My li’l mama wouldn’t do that,” Murder replied assuredly as he stretched out across the backseat of the car.
“It’s not exactly how Robyn is making it sound,” Aries cut in. “When we went to Miami, we accepted a contract to hit a group called The Cartel. Anisa was murdered, and after that, everything spun out of control. Miamor met this nigga named Carter. She fell in love with him, but did not know that he was affiliated with The Cartel.”
“Affiliated how?” Murder asked. His words were calm, but the blaze behind his stare revealed his true emotions.
“He’s the brother of the nigga that killed Anisa,” Robyn finished. “When we left, she stayed behind. She’s not the same, Murder. That nigga Carter got her all fucked up in the head, and we need your help to get her back.”
Murder was livid as he processed everything the Murder Mamas had told him. He had been gone for too long. He was out of touch with the streets, and even worse, out of touch with Miamor. Although he had never expected her to wait for him, hearing that she was so loyal to another man sparked a flame inside of him that he tried to snuff out long ago. He was ready to go retrieve Miamor, and anybody who stood between them could get it.
They rode in silence, until they reached the condo that Robyn and Aries shared. As they walked up their walkway, they immediately noticed that things were not as they left them. The curtains in the living room window had been shifted slightly, and the piece of clear tape that they had put at the top of their front door had been ripped in half, indicating that someone had come in or out of the condo.
Aries put her finger to her lips and pulled out her 9 mm pistol as she stepped into the condo first. Their place was untouched; nothing was out of place, but they knew that someone had crossed their threshold. They filtered through the place, going in separate directions, until every room had been checked.
“There’s nobody here,” Murder stated.
“But somebody’s been here,” Robyn stated as she finally noticed the medium-sized packing box that sat in the middle of their kitchen island. She picked it up, and Aries gasped as she noticed the blood-stained bottom.
“Robyn,” she said as she pointed at the red color.
Murder walked over to her and removed the box from her hands.
He opened the box, and when he noticed what was inside, his stomach folded, causing him to bend over as if someone had punched him in the gut.
“What is it?” Aries asked in a panic as she watched Murder’s reaction.
Tears filled Robyn’s eyes as she shook her head back and forth in disbelief. She ran over to the kitchen sink as the contents of her stomach erupted from her mouth.
“What the fuck is it?” Aries asked again as she stormed over to the box, but Murder stopped her in her tracks as he wrapped one hand around her throat.
“Why did you leave her there?” he asked. “You should have never left her in Miami!” he stated, his eyes ablaze with anger.
The mixture of devastation and rage that twisted his features told Aries all that she needed to know. She violently slapped his hand away from her neck and rushed over to the box. Her heart felt as if it shattered into tiny pieces when she saw the severed hand that lay inside. The cursive Murder Mama on the wrist revealed her identity. It was Miamor. They knew that only one person could be this ruthless.