Friends & Foes

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  Rachel shook her head, her eyes still wide and wild as if she were reliving each second of her near-death experience. “At this point, all I know is that I’m alive.”

  Jasmine raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m kinda alive, too.”

  Rachel’s glance rose to where Jasmine paced in the living room section of their hotel room. Her eyes softened and she tilted her head. “Yeah, you’re alive, though after some of the things you’ve done to me, I’ve always wondered if you had a heart.”

  “This coming from a woman who practically kidnapped my daughter.”

  “Dang! Why you always bringing up the past?” But then Rachel lowered her eyes. “You know, I’ve never liked you, but I always wanted to apologize for that. I didn’t mean to get you that upset, but did you have to cold-cock me the way you did?”

  “Tell me that you wouldn’t have done the same thing to me!”

  A wisp of a smile crossed Rachel’s face. “I would’ve done worse.”

  “I know you would’ve tried,” Jasmine said as she sat down on the bed next to Rachel. “After all we’ve been through, who would’ve ever thought we’d be here working together like this.”

  “I know, it is something.” Rachel paused, then added, “But don’t get it twisted . . . I still don’t like you,” though the wider smile on her face belied her words.

  Jasmine laughed. “Right back at you.”

  After a moment, Rachel said, “Thank you.”

  Jasmine frowned. “For what?”

  Rachel added, “For what you just did. For getting me to think about something else for just a moment. I’m not as scared as I was when we first got back here.”

  “We both needed a break. But we’ve got to get back to work. So,” she paused as if she was giving Rachel a moment to change mental lanes, “let’s go over what we know.”

  “Well, one thing I know is that I really can’t go home now. Before I just wanted to clear my name, but now,” a sob rose in her throat, “I can’t let those thugs get anywhere near my family. I’d die if . . .”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Jasmine piped up, not even letting Rachel finish her thought. “We’re going to figure this out. Come on, look at everything we know. We know that Pastor Griffith may be alive . . .”

  “But he’s dead! They found his body.”

  “And he owes some folks some money . . .”

  “Some money? Ten million dollars is not some money.”

  “And they think you have something to do with it.”

  Rachel threw up her hands. “That’s the part that’s just killing me. Not only did I hardly know that old man, but I couldn’t stand him and he didn’t like me.”

  Jasmine tilted her head. “So, why do they think you’re his girlfriend?”

  “I don’t even know, ’cause if I was to ever mess around on Lester it wouldn’t be with somebody as old as Methuselah; it would be someone more like Bobby.”

  Jasmine arched an eyebrow. “Bobby? Who’s that?”

  She sucked her teeth before she said, “None of your business. And before you go jumping to conclusions, I ain’t cheating on Lester and never have. I was just sayin’.” Shaking her head, she added, “So I have no idea why those gorillas think I’m Pastor Griffith’s girlfriend.”

  Jasmine snapped her finger. “That’s it!”

  “What? Gorillas?”

  “No. Girlfriend. We just need to find Pastor Griffith’s real girlfriend.”

  “And how are we supposed to do that? Even Eleanor doesn’t know who she is, so how are we supposed to find her in a city that has, what? Almost three million people?”

  Jasmine jerked back a bit, impressed that Rachel would know something like that. But she didn’t compliment Rachel. Instead, she said, “Well, do you have any other ideas? I mean, we could go back to those guys we seem to keep running into and ask them some questions so that we can get clarity.”

  The image of the men must’ve passed through Rachel’s mind because she said, “So, where are we supposed to look for her?”

  “Church.”

  “Church?”

  “Yeah, this man was the pastor of a church. Surely someone there knew something about his life; someone knows his girlfriend.”

  Rachel nodded slowly. “Okay, I’m feeling this. I like it. Do you know the name of his church?”

  “I don’t, but how hard can it be to find out?” she said before pulling out her iPad.

  As she did, Rachel’s cell rang. She groaned. “I’m sure that’s Lester.” But then her eyes widened when she looked at the screen. “It’s Yvette,” Rachel said. “Should I put her on speaker?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hey, Yvette,” Rachel said. “Jasmine’s here with me.”

  “Hey, I was just checking on you guys. I felt kind of bad that you came all the way over to see me yesterday and didn’t even stay.”

  “That’s okay, we saw you had company.”

  “Cecelia? Please, she’s not company. I would’ve much rather been hanging out with you guys. So, is everything cool? You’re still in Chicago, I take it, since the two of you are together.”

  “Yeah,” Rachel said.

  Jasmine added, “But we’re getting ready to leave.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” Rachel said, following Jasmine’s lead. “After you said you couldn’t get us back on Oprah, there really isn’t reason for us to stay.”

  There was a long pause. “Well . . . before, when you came over, you said that you wanted to ask me some questions.”

  “We asked them,” Rachel said.

  “Yeah,” Jasmine added. “We asked about Oprah.”

  More silence. Then, “Okay. Well, do you need a ride to the airport?”

  “No,” they said together, then grinned at each other.

  “Okay, so I’ll be in touch.”

  “Okay,” they sang together again.

  When they clicked off the phone, Rachel said, “You know, I almost asked Yvette where was Pastor Griffith’s church, but when you didn’t say anything . . .” She stopped as if she wanted Jasmine to fill in the blanks.

  “I’m beginning to figure that the fewer people who know that we’re here, the better,” she said as she typed into her iPad.

  “She might be able to help,” Rachel said. “At least, that’s what we thought before.”

  “She might, but let’s see what we find out first at the church.” Another tap on the tablet keys, then, “Got it. Here it is. Pastor Griffith was the pastor of Church of the Deliverance.”

  Rachel chuckled. “That man needed to be delivered.”

  “It’s over on Martin Luther King Boulevard.” She looked up at Rachel.

  “Eleanor lives right off Martin Luther King.”

  “Uh-huh.” She clicked off her tablet. Grabbing her coat, she said, “Okay, let’s go.”

  Rachel stayed right in place, sitting on the edge of the sofa. “Now? Today?”

  Jasmine frowned. “Yeah. What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking about Sunday.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Well, I was just thinking that there would be more people hanging around on Sunday.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not interested in talking to his church members,” Jasmine said. “I want to talk to the people who actually work at the church. I’m sure he had a full-time staff.” Jasmine headed to the door. “Let’s go.”

  Rachel was already shaking her head. “I don’t think I want to go back over there. I can’t do it.”

  “But where else can we go? His church is the only place that makes sense. ’Cause if he had a girlfriend, the church folks would be the ones to know, and they’re gonna be the ones who’re gonna tell it.” The look on Rachel’s face made Jasmine ask, “Do you have any other ideas?”

  “Yeah. Let’s go on Sunday when there’s lots of people and less of a chance of someone stepping up to us and pushing a gun in our faces.”

  “And if we wait
until Sunday, what are we supposed to do in the meantime?” She didn’t even let Rachel respond. “I need to get home to my family and so do you. We’re going now.” Jasmine paused. “Well, if you don’t want to then I’ll just go.”

  “But what about the time?” Rachel glanced at her watch. “It’s almost five o’clock.”

  Jasmine shook her head. “Stop making excuses. Somebody will be there. Every church has something going on every night. Look, like I said, I’ll go by myself.”

  Jasmine swung her purse onto her shoulder, then marched to the door like she was going off to war. But just as she put her hand on the knob, Rachel sighed. “All right.”

  Jasmine turned around and faced her with a grin.

  Rachel sucked her teeth. “You knew I wasn’t gonna let you go by yourself.”

  “Yup.”

  Rachel shook her head. “I just hope that this time if the thugs come, they go after you!”

  “Thanks a lot,” Jasmine said as she closed the hotel room door behind her.

  This was a lot to handle in two days, but Jasmine wanted to get out of this James Bond saga and coming to this church was her best idea yet.

  At least that’s what Jasmine thought, until Rachel rolled the car to a stop in front of Church of the Deliverance. The church was one of the sturdier buildings in this neighborhood, a brick monstrosity that looked like it was constructed during the time of Abraham Lincoln’s childhood.

  But it wasn’t the building that stood out most to Jasmine. It was the activity that was going on in front of the building. On one side, a couple of teenage boys sat on the brick wall in front with a boom box of a type that Jasmine hadn’t seen in years, blasting Jay-Z’s “Empire State of Mind” for everyone on the block to hear.

  Concrete jungle where dreams are made of . . .

  The volume made Jasmine shake her head. The words made her wish that she was back in New York.

  Just a few feet away from the music maestros was another set of young men, stepping up to everyone who passed by. Jasmine couldn’t hear their words, but their body language told their business—they were drug dealers.

  Jasmine wondered if Rachel noticed, then Rachel said, “What is all of that?” as she took in the same scene. “That’s just blasphemy, acting like that in front of a church.”

  “I know, right?” Jasmine said as Rachel eased the car along the curb, several doors down from the Church of the Deliverance. When she turned off the ignition, Jasmine said, “Let’s do this.”

  But just as she put her hand on the door handle, Rachel shouted, “Wait!”

  Jasmine frowned.

  “Look!”

  Jasmine’s glance followed where Rachel pointed. To a Town Car that had stopped in front of the church. And the woman who slid out of the backseat.

  Cecelia King.

  Jasmine and Rachel stared as Cecelia stopped to chat with the ghetto pharmaceutical salesmen and then she pushed herself up the three stairs that led to the church’s front door. The stained-glass windows on either side of the door rattled before Cecelia disappeared inside.

  Jasmine and Rachel were silent for several seconds until Rachel whispered, “What do we do now?”

  After a moment, Jasmine said, “We come back on Sunday.”

  Chapter

  TWENTY-ONE

  From the moment she met her, Rachel knew that Cecelia was a low-down, dirty snake. Well, maybe not from the moment she met her; after all, she’d tried everything to get in the woman’s good graces while Lester was running for president of the ABC. But of course, that was before Rachel found out that Cecelia had been playing Jasmine and Rachel against one another so she could ease her own name in to be president. After that, Rachel knew Cecelia King was not a woman to be trusted.

  She’d figure out what Cecelia was up to, but right now, she needed to see if she could dig up anything on Pastor Griffith. Both Rachel and Jasmine had been exhausted when they’d returned to the hotel last night. They’d gone to their respective rooms and crashed. But today was a new day. They’d eaten breakfast in the suite and had spent the last several hours sitting across from each other, strategizing and searching the web for clues.

  Rachel closed out the article she was reading—another positive one about Pastor Griffith’s work. Her eyes caught the Angry Birds icon and for a moment, Rachel thought about playing the game that was her favorite stress reliever. No. She pushed that thought away. She didn’t have time for Angry Birds. They had work to do and if she took time to play games, she’d have a real angry bird to deal with. Rachel immediately chastised herself for having disparaging thoughts about Jasmine. The woman had literally saved her life; they’d just had a great bonding moment, so Rachel needed to stop being mean. Besides, they were a team now and the last thing they needed was any lingering animosity.

  “Are you coming up with anything?” Jasmine asked, breaking the silence that filled the suite.

  Rachel looked up from her iPad. “Nothing but all this great stuff, like the man is a saint or something.”

  “Hmph,” Jasmine snorted. “I was hoping that we could stumble across an article, a photo, something that would give us a clue as to who this girlfriend is.”

  “My gut tells me it’s Cecelia. And if it’s not her, then she knows who it is. We should just ask her.”

  “Yeah, like she would just say, ‘You got me. I’m cheating on my husband with Pastor Griffith.’ ”

  Rachel sighed. This was all getting so frustrating. Jasmine must’ve felt the same way because she set her iPad down, stretched, and announced, “I’m tired. We’ve been at this for hours. It’s almost four o’clock. Let’s get out of here. I’m tired of being stuffed up in this hotel room.”

  “Get out and go where?” Rachel asked.

  “I was thinking we could go walk The Magnificent Mile.”

  “I’m not trying to go walking, especially a mile.”

  Jasmine laughed. “The Magnificent Mile is called that because it’s a mile-long popular shopping area.”

  “Oh.” Rachel hesitated, then flashed a smile. “I knew that. I was just messing with you.”

  “Sure you were.” Jasmine chuckled. “Go put on something comfortable. Shopping will momentarily help us forget all of our troubles.”

  A few minutes later, they were back in the suite. Jasmine was wearing a cute pair of jeans with a white button-down blouse and some low-heeled pumps. Rachel wore a cream velour warm-up suit with some tennis shoes. Jasmine ran her eyes up and down Rachel’s body. Rachel could tell she wanted to say something, but Rachel wasn’t fazed. If she was going to be walking a mile, she was going to be comfortable. Jasmine could try to be cute if she wanted, her feet would be hurting after a block.

  “Should we really be shopping?” Rachel asked once they were in the elevator heading down.

  Jasmine fumbled in her purse for something, then said, “We’ve done all we can do for now. We go out, shop, get something to eat, then tomorrow we go to church.”

  Rachel nodded pensively. It’s not that she didn’t enjoy shopping. She just felt guilty about doing it in the middle of this crisis. “Do they have a Marshalls?” she finally asked. Jasmine chuckled and Rachel raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sure you only shop at Nordstrom,” Rachel said with an attitude, “but I like to spend my money wisely and there’s nothing wrong with Marshalls.”

  Jasmine hailed a cab. They’d decided not to drive to avoid the issue of parking. Once they were settled in the backseat, Jasmine said, “As a matter of fact, they do have a Marshalls and some other discount retailers, including Filene’s Basement.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s a high-end discount store where they sell last season’s clothes.”

  “And what makes you think I wear last season’s clothes?”

  Jasmine’s eyes roamed up and down Rachel’s outfit. She smirked.

  Rachel waved her off. “Whatever; you’re the only one concerned about that anyway. I happen to have some cute clothes.”r />
  “If I must admit, you do,” Jasmine conceded. “I’ve seen you in some cute stuff, even if it is last season’s.” She smiled, but this time neither her smile nor her tone was condescending.

  “Is right here fine?” the driver asked as he pulled up at the corner of W. Grand and Michigan Avenues.

  “This is fine.” Jasmine handed the man a twenty. “Keep the change,” she said as they climbed out of the car.

  Rachel shook her head. That man hadn’t said a word to them the entire time they were in the car. No way did he deserve a nine-dollar tip.

  “Come on,” Rachel said, stepping out of the cab. “I’m going to teach you a thing or two about bargain shopping and when I’m done, you’ll be like ‘I can’t believe I used to spend all that money.’ ”

  “I doubt that very seriously,” Jasmine said, following her out.

  Forty minutes into shopping on The Magnificent Mile and it was obvious Rachel and Jasmine were from two different worlds.

  “So you seriously are going to pay fifteen hundred dollars for a pair of shoes?” Rachel asked as they browsed in yet another high-end store.

  “They’re Jimmy Choo,” Jasmine said, like that was a crazy question.

  “Unless they’re Jesus Christ, that’s ridiculous,” Rachel said, removing the shoe from Jasmine’s hand.

  Jasmine shook her head pityingly.

  “Don’t get it twisted,” Rachel said. “I have some Jimmy Choos, but guess what? I got mine at Off 5th. Just as cute, a third of the price.”

  “Oooh, look at this handbag,” Jasmine beamed, picking up a black snakeskin hobo bag.

  “Now, I’m all for purses,” Rachel said, going straight for the price tag. “Oh, my God, do you know how many people you can feed with the money you’ll spend on this purse that you’ll probably grow tired of in two weeks?”

  “Okay, now you sound like Hosea,” Jasmine groaned.

  Rachel shook her head. “It’s true. This stuff is ridiculously priced. I believe in rewarding yourself, but how many black purses do you actually have?”

  “A woman can never have too many black purses.”