The Family Business 5

by Carl Weber

  “You have my word.” I was relieved that she agreed to my demands, but I wasn’t finished. “One more thing.”

  “What is it?”

  “Do you mind coming with me and my grandson to lunch?”

  “I’d be honored,” she said with a smile that looked genuine.

  “Nevada!” she called out. When he didn’t answer, she yelled again. “Nevada!”

  After another few seconds of silence, we both went to his room. She knocked loudly, but still no answer. Consuela opened the door only for us to discover that the room was empty. Two drawers were emptied and left wide open, and there was no sign of his laptop or knapsack.

  I turned to Consuela. “Where could he have gone?”

  Roman

  28

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the guys with the coconuts for balls. I wasn’t expecting to see you two anytime soon. I thought you’d be on a beach drinking piña coladas and strawberry daiquiris after your last score.” Lex smirked when we walked into the hardware store, but his eyes didn’t leave the bag Denny had slung over his shoulder. “So, who’d you hit this time, Jacob the Jeweler?”

  “Funny, Lex, but you ain’t gonna be making jokes once you see what we got.” Denny patted the duffle bag.

  “Is that so? Well, let’s see what you got.” Lex motioned for us to follow him into the back.

  Inside Lex’s office, Denny unzipped the bag and took out the jewelry we’d gotten from Vaughn and his people. Lex picked up each item, examining them one at a time. He didn’t look pleased.

  “I hope this ain’t all you boys got, because right now you’re looking at about eight hundred bucks.”

  “Eight hundred? Are you crazy?” I yelled.

  “Hey, you can take this fake shit back if you want to.” Lex shrugged, pushing it toward Denny.

  At the sound of the word fake, I groaned. “That cheap motherfucker Vaughan been wearing fake shit this whole time.”

  “No worries.” Denny nudged me. “That’s not the only thing we brought.”

  “Let’s see it. What you got?” Lex inquired, peering over to see what else Denny was about to pull out.

  “What do you think of this?” Denny removed the brown plastic-wrapped bricks from the bag and carefully placed all four of them on the desk.

  Lex looked over at me, wide-eyed. “Tuh, you should’ve started with these instead of the cheap-ass jewelry.”

  Denny laughed. “We saved the best for last.”

  “I can see that. Where’d you get them?”

  “None o’ ya business. How much you paying?” I asked.

  “Depends on what it is and the quality,” Lex said, reaching into the drawer and pulling out a small pocketknife, which he used to slice the plastic on one of the packages. He used the knife to scoop a pinch of the white substance, placing it on his tongue. He stood up straight, looking impressed. “Hmmm, heroin.”

  “It’s good, huh, Lex?” Denny looked like he was about to go over the table.

  “How much?” I repeated.

  “We’re about to find out,” Lex told us as he reached into another drawer, taking out some kind of testing kit.

  We watched as he took another sample of the heroin and put it in a small glass vial, then shook it before holding it up to the light. The vial was now a bright blue.

  “Fuck me. This is some primo shit. I’ve never tested anything so pure.”

  Denny leaned over and whispered to me, “We must’ve caught ’em before they cut this shit.”

  “That’s why that motherfucker ain’t have no cash. He just scored,” I whispered back.

  “Okay, fellas, I can give you sixty-five hundred a ki,” Lex said with a big grin.

  “You said this shit was primo, superb!” I reminded him.

  “Hey, take it or leave it. You got another buyer, go right ahead.”

  Surprisingly, Denny leaned over and started putting the bricks back in the bag. “Fuck him, Rome. I’ll step on this shit a couple of times myself and take it down south and let my cousin sell it for us. We’ll make ten times what he’s offering. He’s forgetting we ain’t broke no more.”

  “Lex, listen, my mom is sick and needs surgery. I ain’t trying to be out their slinging dope, but if I have to, I will. So, what’s your best offer?” I asked. Last thing I wanted to do was spend the next month worrying that one of Denny’s cousins would get busted and dime on us. Plus, I need the money for my mom’s transplant.

  “Sorry to hear that,” Lex said, not taking his eyes off the dope. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you a grand for the fake jewelry and eleven grand per ki. That’s the best I can do.”

  I knew we were being taken advantage of, but at this point, I didn’t have a choice. Dr. Ford had already said that if the transplant was a go, it would cost in the hundreds of thousands. Even with Denny giving me his share, what Lex was offering wouldn’t put a dent into that amount, but it would at least be a start. The hospital wasn’t gonna do shit without a down payment.

  “Just give us the cash,” I snapped.

  Thankfully, Denny didn’t protest.

  After we’d exchanged the goods for cash, Lex looked me in the eyes and said, “Listen, I’m sorry your mom is not well. But if you guys are looking for a big score, I may have one for you.”

  “How big?” I pushed.

  “It pays a hundred grand a piece.”

  “Get the fuck outta here. A hundred thousand a piece?” Denny almost dropped his money.

  “Yep.”

  “And what do we have to do for this hundred grand? Rob the White House?” I asked.

  “Cute.” Lex laughed. “No, there’s a truck coming in from Texas. Y’all get me that truck, you get a hundred grand each, no questions asked.”

  “For a truck? What the fuck is in the truck?” I asked skeptically.

  Lex glared at me then shook his head. “For a hundred grand a piece, do you really care?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “This just sounds a little bit too good to be true. What’s the catch?”

  “The catch is that the guys who own the truck will kill your asses and mine if they catch us. Any more fucking questions?” Lex stared at us. When we didn’t give him an instant response, he waved his hand in disgust.

  “You know what? Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you two aren’t the guys for the job. Maybe your coconuts are just plain old walnuts.”

  “Our nuts are just fine. It’s the bullshit that—”

  “Say less,” Denny whispered, touching my arm as he cut me off. “You forgetting your mom needs that money for her operation.”

  “He’s got a good point,” Lex added.

  I was still unconvinced, but they were right. I needed the money.

  “When and where do we find this truck?” I asked.

  Lex smiled. “So, does this mean you want the job?”

  I glanced over at Denny, already knowing what his answer was. I said, “I still have to think it over, but for now, yeah, we want the job.”

  Rio

  29

  I went by Dreams and every other strip club in Hunts Point, but I couldn’t find anyone named Kandace. Lots of chicks with stage names like Candy Cane, Brown Sugar, and Honey, but Kandace must’ve been her government name, because no one had ever heard of her. So, the next morning, I went to plan B and wound up riding up and down the Grand Concourse, looking for an orange building with a mural on the side not far from Yankee Stadium. After hours of searching, I finally found it on a side street.

  I walked up to the front door, trying to look casual in spite of my nerves. I pressed the doorbell and waited for a few seconds, then knocked when there was no answer.

  “Roman?” There was an older man walking up the stoop next door, holding a bag of groceries. This shit was getting creepy. He obviously had me confused with Roman, but at least now I knew for sure I was at the right house. “What’re you doing?” he asked.

  I turned my head to look at him, and my hood slid back a little.
/>   He squinted. “What the hell is going on with your hair? Is that purple?”

  I thought about taking off, but the guy seemed harmless enough. The house seemed empty, so I wouldn’t get any information from anyone who lived there, but maybe if I played along like I was Roman, the old dude might tell me something useful.

  “Yeah, uh, I decided to try something different,” I said.

  “Mm-hmm, that’s different all right.” He laughed as he held up a bunch of keys and jingled them in the air. “One thing hasn’t changed, though. You been locking yourself out since you were in third grade.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” I couldn’t believe my luck. This guy was coming up the steps with his key to unlock the door. At that moment, I made the decision that I was going inside.

  “There you go,” he said.

  “Thanks.”

  He picked up his bags. “When you go back to the hospital, let your mama know I’m praying for her. She’s a good woman. And your aunt too.”

  “I will. Thanks again.” I stepped inside and closed the door behind me before he could try to talk my ear off.

  It was dark and quiet inside, but I still felt the need to yell out, “Hello?”

  There was no answer. The old guy had said Roman’s mother was in the hospital, so I guessed that was why the house was empty. I clicked the light switch on the wall near the doorway, revealing a tidy little living room. Someone clearly loved this place, even if the stuff in it was outdated. The hardwood floors were worn out but clean, and the floral sofa and TV console had to be at least twenty years old.

  There were some framed photos on the TV console, so I walked over to get a better look. I picked up one picture of a lady and a little boy, and then nearly dropped it when I saw the resemblance. I didn’t recognize the smiling woman, but the little boy, who looked to be about three years old, could have been me. It was really eerie, like seeing myself in some alternate universe. My hand was shaking a little as I put the picture back and picked up another one. It was a photo of the boy sitting in front of a Spider-Man birthday cake with a candle in the shape of a 9. I looked at one photo after another, each highlighting lifetime events that, if had I not known better, could have been my life—minus the prom. This shit was getting creepier by the second.

  At the bottom of the shelf was a large photo album. I would look through it later, but I wanted to explore the rest of the house first. There were two bedrooms that were obviously occupied by women, based on the perfume bottles and jewelry in there. I skipped over those rooms and kept searching. At the end of the hallway, there was another bedroom, the one that I’d been hoping for: Roman’s room. There was an unmade bed, a single dresser, and a closet. I guess Vaughn’s buddy was wrong. Roman did live here.

  I started with the closet first. He had the typical collection of Nike shoe boxes and Timberland boots. Hoodies, oversized jackets, and jerseys hung in the closet. This dude may have looked like me, but he damn sure didn’t have my taste in fashion. Not one single dress shirt in sight. Typical thug. And what was with the cheap-ass Axe body spray? I would never. How the fuck anyone had confused me with this fashion-challenged loser was beyond me.

  I closed the closet door and was about to start rummaging through the dresser drawers when my phone vibrated.

  “Hello?” I whispered.

  “You must be somewhere you’re not supposed to be if your ass is whispering.” It was Sebastian. Thanks to Paris and Sasha, who felt sorry for me, we were talking again. They’d convinced him to check out the video from his club, and when he saw the wack outfit and hideous shoes the guy was wearing, he realized it wasn’t me. He knew I’d never be caught dead wearing something like that.

  “So, what are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m inside this fake-ass motherfucker’s house.” I walked out of the bedroom and sat down on the floral sofa as I talked with Sebastian.

  “In his house?” Sebastian hissed. “The doppelganger? How?”

  “I broke in, that’s how,” I snapped back.

  “What? Why?”

  “Inquiring minds want to know,” I replied, picking up the photo album I’d found earlier.

  “And what’d you find out?”

  “You’re not gonna believe this shit. It’s gonna sound crazy.”

  “Crazier than your ass breaking and entering? I don’t think so.”

  “Oh yeah, crazier than that.” I took a deep breath and admitted out loud the thought that had been stirring in my head ever since I entered the house and saw those pictures. “I think this guy’s my brother.” There. I’d said it. I still couldn’t believe it, but I’d said it.

  “Rio, you’re trippin’.”

  “If you saw the pictures of him that I saw, you’d understand that it’s possible. Haven’t you ever seen Sister, Sister with Tia and Tamera? It’s possible, Sebastian.”

  “You’re reading way too much into this over a couple of pictures.”

  “Maybe, but I look more like this guy than I do Paris—hell, anybody else in my family, honestly. And you know that’s always been a running joke in the Duncan household: Rio’s adopted.” I started flipping the pages of the photo album. More pictures, certificates of promotion, sports awards, report cards. This guy’s momma must have saved every scrap of paper that had anything to do with him.

  Sebastian was still skeptical. “Everyone has a doppelganger. You’ve just found yours.”

  “I hear you, but being in this house, this room, I can feel something, some type of connection. I can’t explain it.” I flipped the page and saw a picture of Roman and the woman at his high school graduation. “Wouldn’t it be crazy if this woman was my mom and Roman was my brother?”

  “Rio, are you on drugs or what? You need to hurry up and get the hell outta there before you get caught.”

  “You’re right.” I stood up from the sofa. “I’m just gonna be a little bit nosier, and then I’ll get out of here.”

  I went back into Roman’s room and opened the top drawer of his dresser to snoop around. In among his socks and underwear there were a few condoms, a couple hundred-dollar bills, and a shiny .44. I pushed aside a pile of socks and found an envelope that was kind of yellow from age. I pulled a paper out of the envelope and was rendered speechless.

  “Rio, you still there?” Sebastian asked.

  “This can’t be true. Is this shit for real?” I said. “Sebastian, I think my life is officially over.”

  “What? What’s going on?”

  “Me and him have the same birthdate,” I mumbled.

  “Get the fuck out. How is that even possible?”

  “I don’t know, but it says it right here in black and white on his birth certificate. Roman Marcus Johnson, date of birth February eighteenth, 1993. Mother, Margaret Wilma Johnson. No father is listed.”

  I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath.

  “Shit! Rio, are you okay?”

  “No,” I said on the verge of tears. “Sebastian, I’ll call you later.” I didn’t wait for an answer before I hung up. I didn’t know what the hell was going on, but I didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

  Feeling too numb to think straight, I closed the drawer and turned to leave. On my way out, I slipped the birth certificate in the pocket of my hoodie—for what reason, I wasn’t sure.

  “Rio, you need a drink or several.” I took one last look around the little living room and then left the house, nearly bumping into a woman who was heading up the walkway.

  “Hey, Rome.” She stopped right in front of me, blocking my path. “Uh, hey, babe.”

  I kept my head down. “Uh, hi.”

  “What the fuck did you do to your hair?” She frowned, touching my purple ’fro. To be that bold, she had to be the infamous Kandace.

  “Dyed it,” I said.

  “I see. But why?” Her lip curled, and she looked at me as if I had done something wrong.

  I was instinctively about to snap my neck and ask the bitch what the hell her pro
blem was and tell her that I probably paid more for this dye job than she had paid for her entire outfit, but then I remembered who I was supposed to be. “I lost a bet.” I flipped the hood over my head and went to walk past.

  “Well, maybe it’s not so bad. In fact, I think you look cute.” She grabbed my arm and turned my body toward her. “Maybe I’ll dye my hair purple too.”

  “That’d be nice,” I replied, trying to step around her.

  “Hey, where you going? I came over here to check on how your mother’s doing and to see if there’s anything I can do for you before I go to work.”

  Her hand caressing my crotch made me jump back. “Whoa.”

  She frowned again. “Roman, what is wrong with you?”

  “Nothin’. I got a lot on my mind with my moms in the hospital is all.” I tried to play it off with what I hoped was a thug effect. “I’ll holla at ya later.”

  “Damn. All right, but can a sista at least get a kiss before you leave?” She stepped closer and put her arms around my neck, puckering her lips in anticipation.

  I swallowed hard. You can do this, Rio. It’s just a kiss. Pretend it’s Sebastian, I told myself as I closed my eyes. I leaned toward her, but dammit, I just couldn’t do it.

  “What the hell is going on with you?” she asked when I pulled away from her. “Are you cheating on me?”

  “No, no, I ate some garlic knots and my breath is kickin’. I’m sorry, but I just can’t do it to you, for real,” I said, then brushed past her and rushed to the street.

  “Roman!” she called after me.

  “I’ll holla!” I waved as I sprinted around the corner to my car. At that point I got in the car feeling a wave of uncertainty and anxiousness. I hated that feeling, and the only thing I could think of to get rid of it was a very expensive bottle of tequila.

  KD

  30

  I opened my eyes just as we passed by the WELCOME TO LOUISIANA sign. It had been a little over a week since the disappearance of the nigger sheriff, and things had been surprisingly quiet. Roscoe had stopped by, along with a couple of his deputies, to tell us the news and ask if we knew anything about it. I suspected old Roscoe was afraid that if he came alone, his ass might be the next to disappear. Of course, we told him we didn’t know nothing. Tyler and I both had strong alibis, with him on duty there in El Paso and me on the ranch with forty of my faithful employees as witnesses. So, with that behind me, it was time to move to the next phase of my plans.