“Somebody tipped off the cops about Zainab. Anonymous tip that got a five-year-old case reopened overnight. I need to know who made that call.”
“That’s a big ask.”
“I know.”
Silence. Then: “Let me see what I can dig up. I don’t got anybody out there, but I know people who know people. No promises though.”
“That’s all I’m asking.”
“How’s she holding up?”
“She’s pregnant and locked up for something she ain’t do. How you think?”
“Yeah.” He exhaled. “I’ll hit you when I got something.”
“Appreciate it.”
I hung up and was about to start the car when my phone buzzed.
Zainab.
I answered before the second ring and had to go through the whole jail call routine.
“Goddess.”
“Hey.” Her voice was tired. Tight. “You got a minute?”
“For you? Always. What’s wrong?”
She was quiet for a second. Then: “Something happened after you left.”
My whole body went still. “What.”
“There’s this bitch. Big Mona. She runs things in here—commissary, gambling, whatever. She came up to me after our visit. Her and her crew.” A pause. “She knows who I am. Who you are. Said she wants ten thousand in her account within forty-eight hours or things could happen during the transport.”
I didn’t say anything. This Mona bitch didn’t really know who I was if she was trying to extort my pregnant fiancée.
“Prime?”
“She threatened you.”
“Yeah. She threatened the baby.”
For a second I couldn’t breathe. Some bitch in a jail cell thought she could come for my daughter?
Then I laughed.
“Prime, this isn’t funny?—”
“Nah, it’s a little funny.” I leaned back in my seat. “She really thought that was gon’ work? Shaking down a Banks?”
“I just had to let you know. She’s gonna try to do something in 48 hours if she doesn’t have that money.”
“She won’t get the fuckin’ chance. I got you. I got this.”
“How?”
“You don’t need to know how. You just need to know it’s done.” I let my voice soften. “Thank you for telling me.”
