by Lynn Emery
“More coffee?” she gasped.
Ryan wiped his eyes and nodded. “Yes, please. You know my wife can’t be around my mother and sisters for five minutes without heading for the nearest exit.”
“Really?” Willa felt relaxed in Ryan’s presence for the first time since they’d met.
He must have felt the same because he assumed a casual pose, elbows resting on the counter. “She slapped baby sister Jeannie at the family Thanksgiving dinner last year.”
Willa gaped at him and spilled the coffee she was pouring. “Oh Lord, please tell me you have video. Please! Cause if so name your price and I’ll pay it.”
That brought on more helpless laughter from both of them. Now Anthony and Mikayla stood looking at them. Willa spluttered, unable to speak. She waved at them to go away. The kids exchanged a glance then left, shaking their heads in wonder.
“No video, sorry. But that scene will live in my memory forever. I shouldn’t be laughing. That day was awful.” Ryan kept laughing despite his attempt to stop.
“I can’t imagine your very etiquette conscious wife slapping anyone.” Willa wiped up the spill then succeeded in pouring them both more cups of coffee.
“We’re talking about my sisters, remember?” Ryan replied and tilted his head to one side.
Willa grimaced. “The patron saint of peace and forgiveness would want to whip their butts.”
“Exactly. You can imagine the months of drama that generated. We finally had a peace conference. We have an uneasy family cease fire. My mother plays referee at family functions now. Even so we only get together three times a year. Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas.”
“Sounds like a decent compromise.” Willa shook her head slowly. “I sure don’t miss the Crown family gatherings.”
“And I don’t blame you. If I could get out of them I would.” Ryan sipped coffee and stared into the cup as though looking for answers.
Willa started to blurt out “Get a backbone” then stopped herself. It was none of her business, she reminded herself. Ryan had always played the part of dutiful oldest son. He worked hard to win his father’s attention and approval. Jack had no trouble getting both, being the favorite son. With Ryan seeming preoccupied Willa took the opportunity to study him. His handsome profile could still stop female traffic, but she noticed frown lines around his eyes. More lines were etched into his forehead. He was drop dead handsome, wealthy and had an ex-model, former black debutante for a wife. Yet here was another first, Willa felt a little sorry for him. He didn’t look like a man who could count his blessings or enjoy them.
“Well, at least you don’t live at home anymore. Right?” Willa joked and slapped him on the shoulder.
“Humph, right. Thank the Lord for small favors.” Ryan lifted the cup and drained the last of his coffee. “I’ve imposed on you long enough. You haven’t had a chance to fix dinner.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not a cook, as your mother so frequently pointed out to the world,” Willa quipped. “I’ll fix something quick and easy.”
“No, let me order something for you. I’ve got it. Gourmet pizza and calzones from Angelo’s.” Ryan punched one button on his cell phone.
“No, really, Ryan. It’s okay.” Willa tried to go on but Mikayla’s exuberance cut her off.
Mikayla yelled down the hall. “Yay! Uncle Ryan is ordering pizza, Anthony.”
“Best news I’ve heard today,” Anthony shouted from somewhere in the house.
“Come right in here, little miss,” Willa said.
There was a ten second delay before Mikayla peered around the door where she’d obviously been standing. She shuffled in, head down. “Yes, ma’am.”
“What have I told you about hiding and listening in on conversations that don’t concern you?”
“I just happened to be passing in the hallway on my way to the den.” Mikayla looked up at Willa. “I’m done with my homework, and I got an A on my quiz today.”
“Excellent,” Ryan broke in. “Now you guys like pepperoni or sausage?”
“Both,” Mikayla bounced over to him and leaned against his knee. “Please.”
“Anything you want, princess.” Ryan went back to ordering. Moments later he hit the off button of his phone. “Done and done. They should be here in twenty-five minutes.”
“Enough time for me to check that homework. For both of you,” Willa said loudly. Anthony didn’t answer and Mikayla darted off. “So much for being through with her assignment.”
Ryan stood. He smiled at Willa. “Your kids are a delight. Trust me. Their Crown cousins are trying. To say the least. Well, I better get going. I’ll be in touch.”
“Thanks.” Willa followed him to the front door.
“I really mean it.” Ryan faced her. “I’m going to spend more time with Anthony. Jack would want that. His last wishes made it clear how much he cared about you, too.”
“Watch out. You’re gonna ruin the Crown reputation for ruthlessness,” Willa joked, feeling awkward in the face of his solicitude.
“And we can’t have that,” Ryan joked back. He leaned forward and pecked Willa on the forehead. “See you later, kid.”
Shocked, Willa blinked at him with her mouth hanging wide open. All she could muster was a goodbye wave. He strode to his black Mercedes SUV. Willa closed and locked the door. Ryan being nice to her, telling stories that made the Crown clan look bad and wanting to spend time with Anthony. The world was upside down. Willa understood how Dorothy must have felt waking up in Oz.
***
Mama Ruby clicked her tongue as she peered at the newspaper through her reading glasses. “Says here he was thirty-six years old.”
“Humph, so sad the way our young men are dying. Just killin’ each other off,” Papa Elton rumbled. He shook his head. “Humph, humph, humph. Doggone shame.”
Willa sat in her parents’ comfy kitchen. Decorated in green and yellow, the brightness combined with the smell of banana nut bread baking in the oven. Still Willa’s childhood haven could not ward off the gloom caused by talk of murder. A second murder to touch their lives in a few short weeks.
“His car was found way down River Road in Iberville Parish. Somebody set it on fire.” Mama Ruby rattled the paper as she turned pages to find where the story continued. “Probably destroying evidence.”
“Which she knows from watching them forensic shows on television. You oughta call her Mama CSI,” Papa Elton joked and poked Willa in the side with an elbow.
Mama Ruby shot him a dark glance then went back to reading. “Reverend Fisher is quoted in here. He’s going to start a special outreach program to help fight crime.”
“Really?”
Willa craned her neck to read over Mama Ruby’s shoulder. Fisher knew about Jack and Ike doing business. Reverend Fisher would have to be very naïve to think the murders were a coincidence. And naïve was not a description Willa would ever attach to the good reverend’s name. If Fisher was involved, which Willa had considered, then he’d want to keep a low profile. According to the article he planned to do anything but.
“Abundant Love Ministries, Inc. board of directors met in an emergency meeting. With approval from a grant source they will develop a new program,” Mama Ruby read aloud. “Operation Lift Us Up, as it has been named, will not only reach out to troubled teens. In an unusual twist, young men ages twenty and older will be given opportunities for mentoring. ‘We will talk to men who want to change their lives and help them do so’, Reverend Fisher said.”
“Ametrine might be right, baby. You judged him wrong. Seems like the man just wants to reach out and help somebody,” Papa Elton said, echoing his favorite gospel hymn If I Can Help Somebody.
“Yeah, well.” Mama Ruby pursed her lips. Her expression indicated she wasn’t ready to change her mind just yet.
“I hope it was a carjacking,” Willa mumbled. She picked at her slice of banana nut bread. Usually she inhaled the treat like a crazy woman. But not today.
“Of co
urse it was. Nobody been bothering you or the kids. Jack might have had his faults but he wasn’t a criminal. And you said that Strafford, Inc. is just a normal company.” Papa Elton gave Willa a paternal pat on the back of her hand. “Don’t let your imagination run away, darlin’.”
“You’re probably right,” Willa said and gave him a weak smile.
“Now you listen to me. I got an extra pistol you can take and—” Mama Ruby started to rise.
Papa Elton pulled her back down. “What is the matter with you, Ruby Mae? This child is jumpy as it is. She don’t need a gun. Too many guns in this country as it is.”
“Yeah, well when that chump broke in here back in the day, and I popped off a round you wasn’t complaining.” Mama Ruby cocked a defiant eyebrow up at him.
“You lucky them social workers didn’t take our children, too.” Papa Elton shook a finger at her.
“Please. Y’all still arguing about that?” Willa broke in to head off one of their head-butting contests. She well remembered that wild night.
The violent parent of a foster child had somehow found out Mama Ruby’s address. Determined to take his child back by force, he’d shown up one night. Terrified, the little boy had cowered in a closet screaming he didn’t want to go. Few things could make Mama Ruby take such drastic action. A child being hurt was one of them. With lightening speed Mama Ruby had unlocked her gun, loaded it and aimed at him when he kicked in the back door. The man took off running. Willa wondered if he was still running.
“And no I don’t want a handgun, Mama. Not with kids in the house. Besides, what kind of message would that send to Anthony?”
“Exactly,” Papa Elton added. “She’s working hard to keep that boy on the straight and narrow. No more gun play.”
“Papa Elton is right. I’m overreacting. Now let’s talk about something else.” Willa broke off a tiny piece of banana nut bread and popped it in her mouth.
“Yeah, y’all can talk. But anybody mess with my family— ” Mama Ruby snapped the newspaper and went back to reading. “Humph.”
“Lord give me strength,” Papa Elton muttered.
“Anthony knows right from wrong. He’s just being a normal teenager. I’ve raised enough kids to know that. There’s some that just too broken to fix. They’ve seen and suffered too much. Others get a taste of street life and decide it’s more fun. Anthony ain’t in either of them categories. I know,” Mama Ruby said.
Willa also knew Mama Ruby was thinking of Willa’s older brother in prison, and Jazz. “Of course I agree with you. But all it takes is one big mistake to ruin his life forever, just one time of being with the wrong kids in the wrong place.”
“Yeah, like our church member’s son. He was riding in the car with his buddy who shot a guy. Now he’s sitting in prison right along with the boy that pulled the trigger.” Papa Elton shook his head once more. “Umph, umph, umph. Broke his mama’s heart.”
“Poor Sharlene.” Mama Ruby sighed and nodded.
The rear doorbell rang and Papa Elton got up. He pulled back the curtain to look through the window. Then he grinned and opened it. “Hey, Darrell. Hope they’re not working you too hard.”
A short and muscular UPS driver dressed in brown grinned back. “Afternoon, Mr. Elton. They sure are working me hard. Glad y’all are at home. I couldn’t have left this one. Requires a signature.”
“Sure thing.” Papa Elton took the stylus from him and signed the electronic pad.
“My wife is to blame, always ordering something from that TV shopping channel.”
Darrell handed him the box. “I’m not gonna complain too much. The ladies who shop give me job security.”
“You got a good point, son.” Papa Elton laughed at Darrell’s joke. “Take it easy.”
“Bye now.” Darrell rushed off to his truck and his next stop.
“Now what have you bought, Ruby? I swear you don’t need no more shoes or purses.” Papa Elton passed the box to her.
“Daddy, scientific studies confirm that there is no such thing as too many pairs of shoes for women,” Willa teased. She giggled when he rolled his eyes before sitting again.
“Or purses,” Mama Ruby put in.
“Or earrings, bracelets and lipsticks,” Willa finished.
“Amen.” Mama Ruby frowned as she examined the outside of the box. “But this isn’t something I ordered.”
“Don’t tell me I finally got a package in the mail. Better mark this on the calendar, Willa, so we can remember this day.” Papa Elton peered at the package.
“No, it’s addressed to me. From somewhere in the Cayman Islands. I don’t know anybody down there.” Mama Ruby put the box down then stared at it.
“Cayman Islands?” Willa leaned forward. “Open it.”
“These days with foreign terrorists running wild, maybe we should call homeland security,” Mama Ruby said. She pushed her chair away from the table, and stared at the long flat box.
“Don’t be silly.” Papa Elton gazed at the box for a moment then leaned back.
Willa grabbed it and tore open the seal. “Jack traveled to the Cayman Islands. He dropped a few bombs while he was alive. Let’s see if this is one he’s sent from the great beyond.”
Chapter 11
Willa sat at her desk staring at the bright red USB drive shaped like a sports car. This cute small package held a lot of information and potentially big trouble. Big dangerous trouble. Which is why she didn’t try searching the files on the USB drive while at Mama Ruby’s. Willa wanted to keep her parents out of harm’s way if she could. Now she could only hope no one knew the package had gone to their address. So she’d called MiMi, told her about the thumb drive. True to form MiMi didn’t wait to be invited. By the time Willa had made it over to her office MiMi was sitting in the lobby patting her foot.
“Well what are you waiting for? Just stick it in,” MiMi blurted out impatiently.
“Bet you’ve said that a few hundred times in your life,” Willa tossed back at her.
MiMi lifted one arched eyebrow at her. “Jealous, huh? Now quit stalling and let’s see what we’ve got.”
“Maybe we should call the police.” Willa chewed on one fingernail for a few seconds, remembered her manicure and stopped.
“Are you crazy? We don’t know what is on that thing. The father of our children might have been involved in criminal activity. We need to know that before the police.”
“So we can get killed, too?” Willa transferred her gaze from the USB drive to MiMi.
“No one knows it exists. I’m sure of that. Otherwise we would have been threatened before now.” MiMi placed a hand on her stomach, and then sat down.
“You okay?” Willa stopped rocking.
“Yeah. This heavy feeling, is that normal?” MiMi yawned.
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, princess. Wait until you pack on fifty pounds.” Willa smirked when MiMi shuddered.
“I’m going to start working with my personal trainer tomorrow.” MiMi nodded.
“You got some secret stash of money I suppose. Designer maternity wear, personal pre-natal exercise guru.” Willa shook her head slowly then looked at the thumb drive.
“Credit card Jack gave me. It has a high limit. But we must find that money. Now fire up that thing so we can get to it.” MiMi leaned forward and reached for the USB drive.
“Stop,” Willa commanded. “I’ll do it.”
“Fine. Sometime before I give birth would be nice,” MiMi snapped back.
Willa mumbled and grumbled beneath her breath, but picked up the small device. She wanted to know, and didn’t want to know. When MiMi let out another long-suffering sigh Willa glared at her.
“Sorry, it’s just I’m dying to know.” MiMi tapped her right foot. Then her impatient expression relaxed. “By the way I appreciate that you chose to call me. It means a lot to me. I’m not real close to my family, as you know. Anyway thanks. I mean you didn’t even include your mama in this.”
“I didn’t w
ant either of my parents in danger.” Willa looked at the screen. All she had to do was tap the mouse pad on the icon. She didn’t move.
“Great, but you don’t mind putting me in the cross hairs. I’m with child, or have you forgotten? MiMi clicked her tongue to indicate disapproval.
“Okay, so which is it? You’re eternally grateful to be included or ticked I put you in danger?” Willa put her hand on the USB drive. “I can always call Cedric.”
“Well, you’re a mother, too. Maybe handing this over to Detective Miller is the way to go. Mikayla and Anthony need both of us.” MiMi wore a serious expression.
Willa blinked at her, mouth open. This crazy person had convinced herself they were actually family. Jack’s mistress and love child? Then Willa gave herself a reality check. MiMi’s baby would be Mikayla and Anthony’s sibling, no question. Besides, Willa knew from experience that sometimes you have to fashion your own family to survive. The notion that a biological connection made a difference was wrong, totally wrong. Especially when it came to parents. So Willa decided not to argue with MiMi. At least not today.
“I know what Cedric would say, MiMi. We can’t keep information from the police. Doing that could shut down Crown Protection.” Willa tapped the mouse pad and held her breath.
“If we don’t get some serious cash infusion that’s going to happen anyway.” MiMi got up and walked to the desk to get a better view of the computer monitor.
“What do you know about it?” Willa frowned at her.
“Jack left me an interest in this business. Your lawyer sent the financials my lawyer requested.” MiMi squinted at the list of files.
“We’re not broke. We have clients and new contracts,” Willa argued.
“Right, but a huge chunk of operating capital is missing. I hate to say it, but maybe our darling Jack put that money in the Caymans. Open one of those documents.”
Cedric entered the office. His dark tan skin contrasted in a delightful way against a crisp white shirt. He smiled, revealing that single killer dimple in his left cheek. “Excuse me, ladies. I have two new contracts for the boss to review and sign.” Cedric strode in without waiting for an invitation. “More business means more money.”