Velvet Mafia

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Velvet Mafia Page 25

by Lydia L Watts

Getting up from her bed, she could feel the fluids inside her body rushing to find a way out as she ran to her bathroom. With only seconds to spare, Taylor made it to the toilet.

  Now every muscle in her body ached as she tried to liberate her body of the images of her victim. For years, she had heard her mother say that killing somebody was easy, that the hard part came when you were left thinking about what you had done. Now she knew firsthand what she had meant. As Taylor sat on the floor at the basin of the stool, completely exhausted, tears rolled down her face. Even without genuine remorse, she could feel herself about to break — but she wasn’t about to let that happen. With her emotions on overload, Taylor knew she had to get busy. This was the only thing she could do to stay sane.

  “Good morning, Pam,” Taylor said. “Would you please let the chairman know I’m here for our committee meeting briefing?”

  “Yes, sure,” Pam said, surprised to see her. “Taylor, honey, are you all right? You must be feeling terrible. I’m so sorry this happened to you and I’m grateful you didn’t get hurt.”

  “Me, too,” Taylor replied. “And I appreciate your concern. But, Pam, can you just let the chairman know I’m here? I would like to finish the business at hand and then I have to leave for the day.”

  “No problem,” Pam replied as she picked up her phone.

  “Hello, Chairman. Taylor DuBois is here to see you for your committee meeting briefing.” She hung up and said, “The chairman will see you now, Taylor.”

  “Thanks, Pam.”

  “If you need anything, honey, please don’t hesitate to ask,” Pam said as she escorted Taylor to the chairman’s office.

  “I won’t.” Taylor grabbed her hand.

  “And, again, thank you.” As Taylor walked into the large office that sat in the same corner two floors under the mayor’s, she couldn’t help but marvel at the view. Both the view inside as well as the one outside spoke volumes. Suddenly she could smell, taste and feel power. While she waited for the chair-man to finish his conversation with an aide, again she found herself thinking about Stan as she had watched him take his last breath. In that moment, she realized what she was truly capable of and knew she would never be the same.

  “Hello, Taylor. Sorry to keep you waiting. How are you?” Chairman Stanback asked.

  “Just a little shaken up, but other than that, I’m fine,” she replied.

  “I was surprised you even came in today,” Stanback said. “I would have understood.”

  “I know, sir, but this upcoming meeting is just too important. We mustn’t forget this was a special meeting convened by the late mayor and with Councilman Yeager out due to personal reasons, I had to make sure you understood his response to the allegations. You know how this crowd can be.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” he said. “I think before we get into Yeager’s response, we should review the transcripts of the last full meeting. I’ve read them, but I just want to get your take on the intent behind some of the conversations.”

  “Sure,” Taylor replied, now in full work mode. “Where do you want to begin?”

  “First, let me ask you something. Was Whitherspoon invited to the meeting?”

  “Not to my knowledge,” Taylor replied. “He came in right around the time of the testimonies. The room was standing room only, and somebody claiming to represent the eighth ward — a Mr. Ali Mahanadi — I think that is how he said his name — stood up and immediately began to challenge Councilman Yeager. He claimed that Yeager and the rest of the executive branch were poverty pimps and terrorists. I could tell the man’s comment didn’t sit well with the councilman, but since Yeager didn’t recognize him, he remained poised.”

  “Did you find that to be strange? You know, Yeager letting him go on like that?” Stanback asked.

  “Yes and no,” Taylor replied. “With Yeager, it’s hard to tell. He’s a master at camouflaging his real thoughts. Sometimes he lets you go on as if to hang on your every word and then he turns around and uses your own words to annihilate you. Surely, Chairman, you have seen this in practice!”

  “Yes, I have,” he said, laughing. “In fact, he’s used it against me a few times.”

  “Me, too,” Taylor replied. “Me, too.”

  “Anyway, go on.”

  “Well, Mr. Mahanadi was the first one to allege that Councilman Yeager was behind the no-bid contracts for HIV/AIDS products and services and he challenged the attorney general to look into it. He went on to say that as a result of the councilman’s thievery, Yeager had single-handedly hijacked federal monies, established his own million-dollar round table representing agencies of his choice and was getting a hefty sum of money from agency kickbacks.”

  “Is that when Mayor Whitherspoon came into the meeting?”

  “No,” Taylor replied as she began to laugh. “He came into the meeting right after Mr. Mahanadi made an unintentional joke. He’d said Yeager was so crooked, the reason he and Councilman Grey Jeffries had fallen out was because Yeager didn’t like to share his butt-kicks. We all knew he meant kickbacks, but when he said it, we couldn’t help but laugh.”

  “What did Councilman Yeager do?” Stanback asked, amused.

  “What could he do?” Taylor replied. “He had to control his composure while the room erupted in laughter. And that’s when Whitherspoon walked in.”

  “What makes you so sure of the time?” Stanback asked, sitting up straighter in his chair.

  “I’m sure because I remember him saying that he hoped he wasn’t the butt of the joke and then everybody burst into laughter again.”

  “I really wish I could have seen that,” Stanback replied. “It’s unbelievable that of all days and of all hearings, there was no live feed. Nothing captured on film or audio.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Taylor replied, obviously confused by what she had heard. “So it’s a good thing I did come in today and brief you after all.”

  “Yes, it is,” he said. “Please continue.”

  “Okay. Where was I?”

  “Everyone was laughing.”

  “Right,” Taylor said. “After everyone stopped laughing, Mayor Whitherspoon asked the chamber guests if they cared if he sat in on the proceedings. Of course, no one objected. In fact, they fed off him being there.”

  “Yeah, I can see that happening.”

  Taylor continued, “He listened for a good hour and then, when he heard that the District was not putting its resources where they were needed, he asked why. No one could give him a solid reason.”

  “What about Yeager?” Stanback asked.

  “Councilman Yeager simply declined to give him a reason at all.”

  “Really!” Stanback replied, as if shocked Yeager wouldn’t even attempt to placate the mayor.

  “So, before the meeting ended, Mayor Whitherspoon pledged he would find out why the District’s HIV rates were so high. He even said publicly that he believed there was something sinister going on. Too many in the room — including myself, I might add — we thought he was referring to how resources were distributed. But I found out from others later that they believed he was referring to the mechanics of the disease itself. Apparently, in some circles, Whitherspoon made it no secret that he felt that the disease was too sophisticated to be a disease based solely on behavior. One person even said Whitherspoon characterized the disease as a military weapon, precise in its ability to eradicate its target.”

  Taylor used this solemn moment to make her excuse to leave. Too much had happened lately and she was no longer up to the briefing. Chairman Stanback seemed to understand and ended their meeting while suggesting to Taylor that she go home for the rest of the day.

  As Taylor was leaving the chair’s office, she heard him say to his chief aide, “Send out a memo to the director at the Department of Health stating that the Committee on Health and Environmental Protection meeting scheduled for next week is cancelled and will be rescheduled at a later date, one to be determined.”

  Taylor didn’t break
her stride. To her, it didn’t matter whether they had the meeting or not. She was on to bigger and better things. By the time she hit the outer steps of the Wilson Building, Taylor was on her phone putting things in order.

  Hello, Councilman Yeager, this is Taylor. We need to talk.

  I have some very interesting information to share with you.

  Information that will not only change your life but mine, too.

  Call me.

  Chapter 12

  NOW THAT YEAGER knew the connection between Jones and the picture of him with the Velvet Mafia, he had to act fast. Time was running out and if he had figured it out, it wouldn’t be long before the Velvet Mafia figured it out, too. Yeager had done some things outside the boundaries of the Velvet Mafia, things he thought he could justify if ever challenged; but exposing the Velvet Mafia to others was a guarantee that life as he knew it would be over. He had to find a way out of the mess he now was in.

  Where was Taylor? And why wasn’t she answering her phone? With Taylor in the office running things, Yeager was simply oblivious to the other staff; however, one other person did stand out: Adrienne, Taylor’s assistant. As he himself had, Adrienne had come from meager beginnings; as a result, she was hungry, worked hard and stayed out of trouble. If anybody knew where Taylor was, it would be her.

  “Hello, Councilman,” Adrienne said. “How are you doing today, sir?”

  “I’m fine, thank you,” Yeager said hurriedly. “Listen, do you know where Taylor is? I’ve been trying to reach her all morning, but she’s not answering her phone.”

  “She didn’t come in today,” Adrienne said.

  “Oh. That’s interesting. Did she say why?”

  “Yes. She had a follow-up meeting with the police regarding Stan Lewis and after that, she said she was taking a few days off.”

  “I see,” Yeager said. “Well, find her and have her call me as soon as possible.”

  “Yes, Councilman. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “No,” he yelled. “Just get Taylor DuBois on the phone!”

  Adrienne’s attempts to reach Taylor were coming up empty. She knew Taylor had a second phone but it was her private number — one she had not shared — and if Adrienne called that number, Taylor would know she had it and everything she and Taylor had built together would come to a sudden end. So, instead of calling Taylor on her private line, she decided to keep her secret to herself. She would just let the councilman know she had left a message for Taylor to contact him; after that, she would let the chips fall where they fell.

  Good morning, Ms. DuBois. I hope you are feeling better. I hate to bother you, but Councilman Yeager has been trying to reach you. Please call him ASAP. Adrienne.

  After she had sent the text, Adrienne waited before contacting the councilman. She was hoping to hear from Taylor before she had to let the councilman know his top aide was unreachable, something that made even Adrienne nervous. She believed that wherever Taylor was, she was sure to see her text message.

  Just as Adrienne had predicted, Taylor texted her back: “Thanks. Is he in his office?”

  “No,” typed Adrienne. “He’s still out at least today and tomorrow. I think he’s at home.”

  Taylor couldn’t help but marvel at herself as she sashayed her plussize hips down the hall and out the door of the nation’s capital’s police headquarters. Everything was going as she had planned. The police believed it was a random robbery and they still had no suspects. The only thing left to do now was deal with Yeager. In an unprecedented move, Taylor drove to Yeager’s home. She knew she was in the driver’s seat, both figuratively and literally and she wanted to bask in the feeling.

  She dialed his number from her car. “Hello, Councilman —”

  “Taylor, where have you been? First you call me hours ago and leave this cryptic message, and then when I try to reach you, you don’t answer your phone. By now you should know I don’t appreciate that shit!”

  “Calm down, Councilman,” she said. “Don’t get your panties all bunched up.”

  Based on the sudden stillness, Taylor could tell Yeager’s face had dropped to the ground. “What did you just say to me?” Yeager asked angrily.

  Seizing the opportunity to repeat herself, Taylor could not wait to stick it to him again. “I said, calm down, Councilman. Don’t get your panties all bunched up.”

  “Do you know who the fuck you are talking to?” Yeager yelled, as spit sputtered out his mouth onto his phone. “I don’t know where you get off talking to me this way, but —”

  “Shut up, Yeager. Whether you know it or not, you need me. Now open your damn door and let me in.”

  “Open my door and let you in?” Yeager said in disbelief. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “Yes, open your door,” Taylor said, “and, no, Councilman, I am not kidding you.”

  Yeager had definitely been rocked by what he was hearing. The last person who had told him to shut up was found hanging from a beam in his apartment and now Taylor DuBois had crossed that invisible line, too. Without even responding, Yeager hung up his phone. He could see from his front picture window that a car was in fact in his driveway. And before Taylor could get out of the car, Yeager was standing at his front door.

  As Yeager watched Taylor exit her car, he wanted to wring her neck. He didn’t care about the information she claimed to have because at that moment, he lusted for blood. How dare she?

  She walked up his driveway and he knew, regardless of what he felt, he had to control his desire. Taylor wasn’t stupid; she had to have something of enormous value to commit such a profound, blatant and egregious act of defiance. Why else would she commit suicide?

  “This better be good, Taylor, because if it’s not, you’re dead. Do you hear me?”

  As Yeager reluctantly held his door open, Taylor passed by him, permitting her body to touch his slightly. Both her strut and her stride informed the watching eye of her confidence.

  “Oh, it is,” she said without turning to face him. “So, are we just going to stand here facing off or are you going to show me your home?”

  Reluctantly, Yeager shut his front door but not before he surveyed his surroundings. It wasn’t often he had guests, especially an uninvited one. As he walked past her, he motioned her to follow. Yeager lived in a beautiful French Colonial home surrounded by Rock Creek Park, but inside, it lacked both definition and style. Everywhere Taylor turned, she saw mismatched furniture, ugly old carpet and dark, dirty-looking curtains. To top it off, it was messy and stinky. He may have been the most powerful gay politician in the District, but he definitely didn’t fit the stereotype of living the fabulous gay lifestyle.

  “This is how you live?” Taylor said, looking disappointed. “I was hoping the inside looked as beautiful as the outside.”

  “Are you done?” Yeager said with obvious disgust. “Now that you have made your grand entrance, what is it you want to share with me?”

  “Not so fast, Councilman, not so fast,” Taylor said, clearly enjoying her sudden position of power. “Before I tell you what I know, I think we need to establish the rules and what it is that I want for bringing you such a valuable treasure. There’s no doubt in my mind that the information I have will change your life and I just want to make sure I get a piece of the change.” After thinking about what she had said, Taylor had to laugh. Even to her, she sounded funny.

  “Are you done amusing yourself? My patience is running thin. So, if you have something to say, please do so before I get completely bored with you.”

  “Okay. But, first, can you at least offer me something to drink?” she said, still feeling excited about the recent turn of events. “I’m a little parched from my earlier meeting today. I had to visit with the police about Stan Lewis.”

  Yeager was clearly not interested in what she had to say about Stan. To him, Stan was dead and yesterday’s news. He was in the moment and at that moment, he was confronted with a nuisance.

  “Su
re, Taylor,” Yeager said in a patronizing way. “I have water, juice and soft drinks. What’s your pleasure?”

  “I don’t want to put you out, so water with ice is fine.”

  As Yeager turned and headed to his kitchen, he decided Taylor just couldn’t help herself. She had finally lost her mind and he would be doing her a favor when he killed her.

  “Here’s your water, Taylor. Now tell me what it is you want me to know. And I promise to give you a share of my fortune, whatever that may be. Now, are you satisfied? I said it. So stop stalling and tell me why you have invaded my personal space.”

  “No, Councilman. You misunderstood me,” Taylor said. “I don’t want a share of the fortune. I want to be your partner and I want half.”

  “Half of what, Taylor?” Yeager asked, no longer hospitable. “You’re not telling me anything, so why would I negotiate half of something that doesn’t even exist? So, again, if you want half, you had better tell me what you are referring to.”

  “Half the Clydesdale Energy fortune. That’s what I’m referring to, Councilman. Half the Clydesdale fortune. What else would make me come to your home unannounced?”

  The moment he heard her say Clydesdale Energy, Yeager knew she was a force to be reckoned with. No one had known of his connection to the Laurie family and now, out of nowhere, Taylor DuBois was standing in his home asking for half of the fortune he had spent the entire day trying to figure out how he could get his hands on.

  Yeager had to play it cool. The one thing he knew was that Taylor was as cunning as he was, so, if she was brazen enough to bring it to him the way she was, she knew what she was talking about. The ques-tions for him were how much did she know and who else knew.

  “Again, Taylor, what are you talking about?” Yeager said calmly.

  “Come on, Councilman, give me some credit. You know as well as I do that I know what I am talking about. So, please, Guy —” Taylor paused. For the first time, she heard herself call him by his first name and she felt even more powerful than she had when she’d showed up on his doorstep. She continued, “Stop insulting my intelligence. After all, I was trained by the best, remember? Even this rogue move, showing up at your house uninvited, is something you would have done. So, give me a break. Either we have a deal or we don’t.”

 

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