The Fleeing Felon

1 PARTY SCOTTSDALE, ARIZONA Present Day 2 a.m. The blaring music inundated the crowd as the various partygoers gyrated uncontrollably to the rhythm. Those not dancing talked louder so that their partners could hear. Yellow and blue lights scattered throughout the room in random sequences illuminating the darkened presidential suite. The smell of sweat and alcohol permeated the air, filling it with a sense of excitement. In the far corner was Fredrick, alone. His smile was beaming in an immature way as he gazed into the crowd with amazement. Nevertheless, he was having fun. “Pass me some chips,” a dark-haired woman wearing a sleek dress said as she winked innocently at Fredrick. She stood about six inches taller than Fredrick who was of average height. “What did you say?” He barely heard her voice. Fredrick wasn’t sure if it was the loud music drowning the hotel suite or if it was because she spoke softly in a sultry voice. A part of him secretly hoped it was the latter, but that was just the vanity of youth. She drew near and spoke into his ear, “I said pass me some chips.” This time her voice sounded perturbed. Fredrick nodded, turned towards the banquet table near him, and grabbed the chip bowl. He ate a few chips himself and then passed her the bowl. “Thanks. What are you doing here?” she inquired as if his presence was out of the ordinary at the luxurious Regal Phoenix Resort and Spa. In fact, Fredrick was out of place and he was keenly aware of it. He wore faded jeans with a blue linen shirt; its collar was slightly askew. His rugged boots rounded out his wardrobe. Fredrick didn’t mind. He was accustomed to not fitting in with the upscale crowds at similar resorts. But fitting in wasn’t his purpose. His purpose was, “entertainment” of sorts. Well, that’s how he described it to family members and friends. He never told them the truth. He went to upscale parties, graduations, birthdays, weddings, and other events to sell drugs. His family wouldn’t approve of Fredrick selling drugs again especially after he spent the last two years in prison in Florence, Arizona. That killed them. At least the prison was close to the reservation where Fredrick’s family lived. His family lobbied for Fredrick not to be housed in the state prison in Winslow, Arizona. Winslow was a three-hour drive from their reservation near Scottsdale, Arizona. Florence was only an hour away. Fredrick’s mother and father easily visited him throughout the day and after work and then went back to the family home. They frequently visited him despite the initial awkwardness. While in prison, Fredrick swore up and down that he was finished with dealing drugs. He realized that his now four-year-old daughter, Maleah, needed him. She was a fragile two-year-old when he first went to prison. Her mother, Caitlin, was disgusted when she learned that her boyfriend sold cocaine and meth. Despite her family’s protests, Caitlin relented to Fredrick’s pleas and stayed with him mainly for Maleah’s sake. “She needs a father, not useless gifts,” Caitlin would say. “My father is rich. We don’t need your money.” Fredrick’s words of reassurance that he wouldn’t sell drugs rung hollow in Caitlin’s mind. She feared that the fast money was too irresistible. Unbeknownst to her, she was right. Soon after he was released from prison, Fredrick convinced himself that it was okay to sell m*******a because he was no longer selling hard drugs. “It’s just m*******a,” he frequently repeated to himself. “No one is harmed by a little weed. It’s for medicinal purposes.” He reassured himself that he was doing the right thing for his family. But, in reality, Caitlin’s words stung deeply. Fredrick knew that he could never provide for his family the way Caitlin’s father did. Her father was a millionaire of sorts, making money by importing merchandise from all over the world. Maleah lived with Caitlin at her parents’ house— a large, six-bedroom home in the rich neighborhood of Arcadia near Camelback Mountain. Maleah was taken care of by live-in maids and taught Mandarin and Spanish by exotic tutors. Her every need was met. But Fredrick insisted that he and Caitlin live on their own once he was released. That decision caused a lot of conflict between Caitlin and her parents. Fredrick’s drug money could never compete with millions but at least it was his money, made from the efforts of his own hands. Also gnawing at him was his pride. He didn’t want a non-native telling him what he could do and how to do it, especially when it came to his own family. Fredrick’s parents and friends would never respect him if he wasn’t his own man. He convinced himself that this was his true motive for moving Caitlin and Maleah out of her parent’s house Fredrick’s only solace in his tumultuous relationship with Caitlin was that his parents unconditionally accepted his daughter. They loved her as if she was their own daughter. All they asked was that Fredrick not sell drugs to his own people on or off the reservation. He reluctantly agreed. The Regal Phoenix Resort and Spa was a stone’s throw from the reservation and, to his knowledge, none of the party-goers were natives or at least not from his tribe. So, in Fredrick’s mind, he was honoring both his parents’ and his girlfriend’s wishes. Well, almost all of it. “I’m having fun. Are you?” he answered the woman next to him, still grinning subconsciously. She glared at him and then eyed his body up and down in disapproval. “Hey, you want some weed?” he asked as she stormed off. When she didn’t respond Fredrick shrugged and continued eating chips. His sales skills were rusty. He no longer had the flair and debonair attitude he used to have while selling drugs before prison sullied him. Maybe he lost that edge now that he was twenty-three years old and becoming a real man. Fredrick didn’t know why he was striking out. But he knew that he needed to start selling and make the most of the party. He looked around the room and saw two men approach in a half-drunken stupor. They stumbled towards him laughing and carrying on. Fredrick watched attentively as the two neared the banquet table. “I need food, bro,” the taller male said as he stared greedily into the eyes of the other male. He shoved him slightly to emphasize his point. “No, need to tell me. I’m there with you.” The two laughed heartily and then noticed Fredrick’s gaze from across the floor. “Hey man. What are you staring at?” the taller man asked. “Hi, guys,” Fredrick said. “Nothing. Just—” “Well mind your business,” the man snapped. “I am man,” Fredrick said. “No harm. No foul. I’m just here to entertain.” “Entertain?” The other male gave Fredrick a puzzled look. “You don’t look like the entertainment. Where’s your costume?” “No man. Not like that.” Fredrick pulled out a small bag of weed from his pocket and showed it to them. “I’m talking about the ganja.” He gently shook the bag to focus their attention. “Got anything strong than that?” the taller male asked with a sense of disappointment. “Yeah, we need something stronger,” the other male said. “Nah, man. This is it. Tell me how much you need.” Although the men were disappointed with the inventory, they purchased two bags from Fredrick and moved on. He was pleased with his first sale. It had been a slow two weeks, but things were looking up. With added confidence, Fredrick strolled through the crowd with his contagious grin. He sold more product once the partygoers realized his purpose there. His cellphone buzzed while he was completing his latest transaction with a young teenager. Fredrick looked at the caller ID and noticed that Caitlin called. His heart dropped.