Return of the Cartier Cartel (27 page)

I’m packing up my family and moving out of New York. I’m not sure where yet, but know that I won’t ever miss ONE visit. And I’ll always bless your commissary and you’ll always receive a weekly letter or card. I know what it’s like to lose the ones you love most while being locked down, and I want you to know that if you don’t have anyone else, you have me. I hate to say this for the first time in a letter, but I love you, heart, mind, body and soul.

An honest woman

Cartier

****

Trina had called Cartier’s name twice before her daughter actually heard her. Cartier was engrossed in re-reading her letter, hoping it said everything she wanted to say. Finally she relaxed. It’s all about actions. Her actions would solidify her words.

“Cartier.”

“Yes?”

“I think you need to see this. It might not be anything, but then again it could be everything.” Trina rushed over with a plastic baggy containing paperwork from Chase bank.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a key to a safety deposit box, and you’re listed as a second signer.”

“What? How could that be? Wouldn’t I have had to be with him to be a second signer?” Cartier peered at the signature line. Trina was right. She was listed as a second signer, but it wasn’t her handwriting.

“Look, figure out all the particulars later. You need to go down to this bank with your identification and see what’s up. For all we know, the person who posed as you could have already been there.”

Cartier rushed out of the house and sped off to Chase. She approached the teller and asked to gain access to her safety deposit box.

“Sure. Have a seat, and our branch manager will be with you shortly.”

Cartier walked over to the set of chairs, but she couldn’t sit down. Her palms were sweating, and her heart was racing.

“Ma’am.”

“Yes?” Cartier turned to face a well-groomed, conservative-looking gentleman clad in a three-piece suit and tie.

“Could you follow me?”

The manager led Cartier downstairs to the lower level, where the boxes were located. He stood behind the desk and pulled out the registry. “What’s your box number?”

“Umm, three, zero, eight, one.” Cartier swallowed hard.

After flipping briefly through an index box, he pulled out a card. “Do you have identification?”

Cartier tossed him her license.

He looked at it. “Could you sign here for signature verification?”

“Sure.” Quickly Cartier tried to recall the signature on the paperwork. Why didn’t I practice before running into the bank? She tried her best to replicate the signature, remembering that the C was pronounced and the rest of her name illegible.

The bank manager hardly glanced at the signature before walking her through a large vault with over one thousand boxes. They both stood in front of box 3081. He took out his master key and opened his side before telling Cartier to open hers.

Fumbling with her key, Cartier wondered if he could see her hands trembling. Once it was opened, she stood back and watched him pull a somewhat large, heavy box and place it into a private room.

“I’ll be outside,” he said. “Take your time.”

As soon as he closed the door, Cartier opened her future. There was all the money Jason had taken from the house. Over a million dollars in crisp bills neatly stacked in an 18 x 20 box. Tears of relief trickled down Cartier’s cheeks. She now had a chance. A new beginning. Money to take care of herself and her family.

She thought of Jason. He would have wanted it this way. Christian and Jason Jr. would benefit from his life in the streets. She’d make sure to always tell them about their father and how much he loved them.

As Cartier looked at the box she realized Jason had thought of everything. Inside, tucked on the side of the stainless steel box, was a black duffle bag. She grinned. And she kept grinning as she waltzed out of the bank after making a hefty withdrawal.

“Hey, Li’l Momma.”

“What’s up, girl?”

“Life is good.”

Li’l Momma was so glad to hear such a positive response from Cartier after all she’d been through. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. I just want you to know that, whatever you need, I’m still here for you. Babysitter, sister, friend, punching bag”—Li’l Momma laughed—“I got you.”

“I know you do. Listen,” Cartier said, barely able to contain her excitement, “I found the money Jason had stolen from our family.”

“Get the fuck out!” Li’l Momma exclaimed, a rush of excitement traveling through her body. “God is good.”

“Most definitely. He’s good to you too because I got two hundred large with your name written all over it.”

It was at that moment that Li’l Momma understood the meaning of Cartel.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I’ll drop it off before I hit the road.”

“Have you decided on where you’re going?”

“Not yet, but I won’t be too far from you or my man.”

“Head?”

“Yeah. He said he’s going to make an honest woman out of me.”

“You’re still going to marry him?”

“First chance I get.”

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