“I am,” Jasmine said. She had such clarity now. It all made sense.
“I just can’t believe it,” Rachel said.
“Believe it,” Mae Frances said from the backseat. “I’ve taught Jasmine Larson well and if she said it’s Yvette, then it’s Yvette.”
Rachel shook her head. “Yvette’s the girlfriend,” she said, repeating what Jasmine had explained to her back at the hotel.
“Think about it,” Jasmine said. “You guys are about the same age, you’re the same height, you have the same coloring.” She paused and glanced sideways at Rachel. “And until you got this new weave, you wore your hair almost the same way, too.”
“I cannot believe anyone would get me mixed up with her,” Rachel said. “I mean, I’m much cuter and I weigh at least thirty pounds less.”
Jasmine held back her words and her laugh, but Mae Frances said what she’d been thinking. “In your dreams,” Mae Frances cackled. “You should be flattered that someone thought you were that girl.”
“What are you talking about?” Rachel said. “Have you ever seen Yvette?”
“I don’t have to see her. I just know that she probably looks better than you.”
Jasmine spoke before Rachel could respond. “But the biggest clue was what Muscle said.” She prayed that changing the subject would keep the peace. She didn’t need Rachel and Mae Frances fighting—this was a war that all three of them were going to have to fight together.
When Rachel said, “About the business,” Jasmine knew that her plan had worked.
Jasmine nodded. “Who else do you know who has celebrity clients?”
“Lots of people,” Rachel said. “It could be anyone in Chicago.”
“Well, I just believe it’s Yvette. Think about it, you said it was almost as if she wanted you to come back to Chicago, so she could’ve set you up.”
“I was just sure that it was Cecelia.” Rachel sighed.
“Me, too,” Jasmine said. “But it’s not, it’s Yvette. They might be working together, but I’m sure the girlfriend is Yvette. Remember, she kept slipping and calling him Earl. Have you ever been compelled to call him by his first name?”
Rachel shook her head.
“Because you’re not sleeping with him.”
Rachel shivered in disgust like the mere thought repulsed her.
“It’s all starting to add up,” Jasmine said as she pulled the car to the curb a few yards away from the front door of Yvette’s apartment building.
Jasmine and Rachel jumped out of the car and Mae Frances slid out of the back. As they dashed to the door, Mae Frances took her time.
“What’s the rush?” she asked when she finally caught up to the other two. “Yvette will be here,” she said, pulling her mink tighter.
But Jasmine wasn’t paying any attention to her friend and she released a long breath when she saw Sherry, the concierge whom she and Rachel had met the last time they were here.
“Hey.” Jasmine could hear Sherry’s greeting through the front door before the concierge buzzed them in.
Her heart was pounding. This time, she had to get Sherry to let them go up to Yvette’s apartment without being announced. She didn’t want Yvette to have any time to prepare; she needed that element of surprise.
“How you ladies doing?” Sherry grinned at them.
“We’re fine,” Jasmine said, wishing that she’d discussed what she should say with at least Mae Frances. But she’d been so excited, so determined. And now . . .
“I hope you’re not here to see your friend,” Sherry volunteered before Jasmine could ask the first question.
“Why?” Jasmine, Rachel, and Mae Frances sang together.
“She’s not here.”
This time, the three released a long sigh together.
“Well, we’ll just wait for her,” Rachel said.
Sherry chuckled. “It’s gonna be a long wait. She moved.”
“Moved?” Now, the three sounded like a singing trio.
“Yeah, she moved to . . .” Sherry paused as she thought, “to the islands.”
Jasmine groaned. “Which island?”
“The Virgin Islands.”
“There are six islands,” Mae Frances snapped as if the woman should know this. “Is it the U.S. or British Virgin Islands?”
Sherry looked stumped. “All I know is the Virgin Islands.”
Jasmine said, “Well, she must have left a forwarding address.”
“Yeah, she did. With the post office.”
“Oh, my God!” Rachel exclaimed. “This is just a freakin’ nightmare.”
“I’m sorry,” Sherry said. “And what’s so bad, you just missed her mother . . .” She paused. “No, no, her godmother. She was just here cleaning out the apartment. She finished up about five minutes ago.”
Dang! Jasmine thought. Five minutes. Of course, she didn’t know Yvette’s godmother, but she was sure she could’ve talked to her, found out much more than what Sherry knew.
“Are you sure you don’t have any information about where Yvette moved to?” Jasmine asked.
“Yeah, this is really urgent,” Rachel said. “It’s a matter of life and death. Mine.”
Sherry frowned.
“I mean,” Rachel began to explain, “it feels that way.”
Sherry shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay,” Mae Frances said to Sherry, “you’ve been really helpful.” To Jasmine and Rachel, she said, “Come on.”
Jasmine shook her head. “I’m trying to think of something else . . .”
“Let’s go,” Mae Frances said quickly, making Jasmine pause. Her friend knew something.
“Thanks again, Sherry,” Jasmine said, as she pulled Rachel away from the desk.
“What?” Jasmine whispered to Mae Frances as they rushed out of the lobby. “What?”
“Let’s just go to the car.” Mae Frances spoke through lips that hardly moved.
Inside the car, Mae Frances said, “We’re taking a trip.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes. “Where? To the Virgin Islands? And what are we gonna do when we get there? Go around the islands looking for Yvette?”
“And you said yourself, there’re six of them,” Rachel said, sounding as frustrated as Jasmine.
“Are you two finished?”
Jasmine and Rachel said nothing.
Mae Frances said, “Now . . . we’re going to the Virgin Islands.”
Jasmine and Rachel groaned together.
“But we’re not looking for just Yvette. I think Earl is there, too.”
“What?” Jasmine and Rachel turned around in the car to face Mae Frances.
“I told you that back in the day Earl and I kicked it.”
“Kicked it?” Rachel said. “Ewwww,” she added as she turned around in her seat as if she could no longer stand to look at Mae Frances.
“Anyway, we’re gonna check out the Virgin Islands, but not St. Thomas. No one would hide there. Especially not Earl. St. Thomas has too many people. It’s too commercial. Someone on vacation might recognize him. We’re going to St. John. Where he took me all those years ago.”
The look in Mae Frances’s eyes made Jasmine turn back around to the front of the car, too.
“So do you want to go and solve this, or should we all just go home?” Mae Frances asked.
Jasmine and Rachel glanced at each other and shrugged.
Mae Frances said, “I hope you got your credit cards because one of you is going to buy my ticket!”
Chapter
THIRTY
Rachel stared out the window at the clear blue water as the plane touched down on the runway.
She still couldn’t believe that within a matter of twenty-four hours, she’d been cleared of murder, accosted by thugs, and was now in a whole other country. Well, it might as well have been another country, even though Jasmine made sure to remind her that technically, the Virgin Islands wasn’t “another country.”
Lester had ca
lled to let her know that the board had narrowly voted to wait on the outcome of this whole mess before making any decisions, so that was good news. She stopped short of telling him that her name had been cleared because she knew the only thing he would want to hear after that was when she would be home, so she’d let him believe she still couldn’t leave Chicago. That’s why she’d prayed the entire way that the plane didn’t crash. The last thing she needed was Lester getting a call that she died bound for the Virgin Islands. Luckily, the man sitting next to her had made small talk, putting her at ease. She’d groaned when he’d gotten on the plane just before the doors closed because she’d hoped to have the entire row to herself. But he’d turned out to be a welcome distraction as he talked about his excitement of seeing his family in the Virgin Islands.
Rachel glanced over at Mae Frances, who was leaning back in her first-class seat. Not only had she demanded a ticket in first class, she’d demanded two seats so no one could sit next to her because she was tired and “didn’t feel like being bothered.” That, in and of itself, was ludicrous to Rachel. She already thought first class was a complete and utter waste of money. First class got you to the same destination as coach for double the price. But Jasmine had paid for Mae Frances’s tickets, then gotten one for herself without blinking. So naturally, Rachel had felt compelled to get one as well. Lester was going to have a conniption when the bill came. But he would just have to get over it.
The jolt of the plane touching down snapped her out of her thoughts. It also woke up both Mae Frances and Jasmine. How they could relax was beyond Rachel. But then again, it wasn’t their life on the line.
“Whew, it’s hot,” Mae Frances said as she stepped off the plane and onto the tarmac.
“That grizzly bear you’re wearing might have something to do with it,” Rachel mumbled. Mae Frances cut her eyes and Rachel flashed an apologetic look.
“Where to now?” Rachel said once they were in the cab.
“We go get checked in at the hotel. Then we go by Earl’s.”
“That sounds like a plan.” Rachel had no idea what they would do when they got there, but she knew she’d drag that man kicking and screaming back to Chicago if she had to. She not only wanted to prove he wasn’t dead so the D.A. couldn’t accuse her of having anything to do with his disappearance, but she also was going to demand he give the drug dealers back their money or she’d tell them where to find him. That is, if they could even find him.
They got checked into their five-star hotel, and it was a good thing Jasmine had a black American Express card because Mae Frances had insisted on a top-of-the-line room—at their expense. Rachel was about to protest when Jasmine shook her head. “I got it,” Jasmine said, handing the clerk the card. “Let’s just meet back down in the lobby in fifteen minutes.”
In the room, Rachel dropped her bag, used the restroom, and headed right back downstairs. She didn’t want to waste any more time. She still ended up waiting another twenty minutes, but finally Mae Frances and Jasmine made their way back downstairs. They hailed a cab and headed to the secluded address Mae Frances had recited to the driver.
As they pulled up to the bungalow nestled in the back of a wooded area, Rachel had to once again give Mae Frances her props. No way would they have ever found this place on their own.
Rachel’s heart raced as she beat on the front door. What if this was a wild-goose chase? What if Pastor Griffith really was dead? Rachel didn’t know what she would do if all of this turned out to be for nothing.
“What now?” Rachel said, after no one answered the door. Defeat registered all over her face.
Mae Frances turned and marched back toward the cab. “I’m going to eat.”
“We don’t have time to eat,” Rachel said, following after her.
Mae Frances didn’t break her stride. “Is Earl here?”
“Well, no, but we can go look for them,” Rachel said.
“You can go look all you want. I’m not about to go traipsing all around this island looking for them. Jasmine Larson, you know I get grumpy when I don’t eat.”
“Fine, let’s make sure we feed the animal,” Rachel muttered.
Mae Frances stopped and spun toward her. “Look, little girl,” she said, waving a finger in Rachel’s face. “I’m doing you a favor. There’s no one after me. There’s no one waiting to blow my brains out on the steps of my church. So unless you want me to march right back to that airport and get back on the plane—”
“Okay, okay,” Rachel interrupted. “I’m sorry. I’m just stressed out.”
“Well, I don’t care how stressed you are, you need to learn a little respect for people that are trying to help you out.”
“You’re right,” Rachel admitted. As much as she couldn’t stand this old lady, they wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Mae Frances, so she needed to show the woman her respect. “I’m sorry.”
Mae Frances looked taken aback, but she forced a tight smile. “Well, thank you. Maybe there’s hope for you yet.” She spun and walked off. “Of course, I doubt it,” she mumbled.
Jasmine flashed an apologetic expression, but Rachel just shrugged as they both followed Mae Frances back out to the taxi.
At the restaurant, Mae Frances insisted that they sit in a shaded, secluded area in the back of the restaurant. Then it took her almost three hours to eat. She feasted like she was at the Last Supper, slowly nibbling her food, sipping tea, and acting like they were on a nice, leisurely vacation. Even Jasmine was getting irritated.
“Can we go now?” Rachel said, no longer able to hold in her frustration.
Mae Frances sipped the last of her hot tea, set the cup down, then asked, “Tell me something, Raquel.”
“Mae Frances, you know her name is Rachel,” Jasmine chided.
Mae Frances feigned an apologetic look, and continued. “Tell me something, Rachel. You and Jasmine all buddy-buddy now, right?”
Rachel looked to Jasmine for confirmation and Jasmine nodded. “We are,” Rachel said.
“Well, I think you should know Jasmine let you win the election.”
“Mae Frances!” Jasmine gasped, sitting straight up in her seat. Mae Frances leaned back and sipped some more tea.
Rachel lost her smile as she turned to Jasmine. Mae Frances was crazy, but Rachel had quickly learned that everything she did was calculated—and usually right on the money. “I won the election fair and square.” She narrowed her eyes at Jasmine. “Right, Jasmine?”
Jasmine shot Mae Frances the evil eye. “I can’t believe you.”
“Jasmine, what is she talking about?” At one point, Jasmine had alluded to her being the reason Lester won, but Rachel had thought she was just blowing smoke.
“Tell her,” Mae Frances demanded. “BFFs shouldn’t keep secrets.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes. “Why are you doing this?”
Mae Frances shook her head in disgust. “Because, whether you two want to admit it or not—and it pains me to say this—you work well together. And if you’re going to be hanging around each other from now on, I think you need to start on a clean and truthful slate.”
“Since when did you become the bearer of truth?” Jasmine snapped.
“Since,” Mae Frances glanced at her gold watch, “about thirteen seconds ago. Now tell the girl the truth.”
“Yes, Jasmine, tell me the truth,” Rachel said with an icy stare.
Jasmine released a heavy sigh and began the story of how she’d found out about Pastor Griffith being involved in drugs and wanting to funnel drug money through the ABC, so she’d sabotaged the race to make sure Hosea had lost.
Rachel was dumbfounded by the time Jasmine had finished her story. “Are you freakin’ kidding me?” She looked back over to Mae Frances. The look on her face told Rachel that Jasmine was being one hundred percent truthful. “So you set Lester up?”
“Huh? What?” Jasmine said, shocked. “I didn’t set anyone up. I just wanted to make sure Hosea wasn’t caught up in that me
ss.”
“Who cares about my husband? You were just gonna let the drug lords use him!” Rachel stood and balled her fist up. Her blood was starting to boil. She was ready to cold-cock Jasmine in the eye, regardless of how far they’d come.
“Calm down, Laila Ali,” Mae Frances said.
Jasmine and Rachel faced each other in a stare-off as Mae Frances continued. “Now, Rachel, would you really have believed Jasmine if she had come to you back then and said, ‘Hey, Pastor Griffith is involved in some shady stuff so you might want to get Lester to drop out of the race’?”
Rachel paused. Of course, she wouldn’t have. She would’ve sworn it was just one of Jasmine’s low-down dirty tricks.
“Jasmine was just scared for the safety of her own husband and back then, she didn’t give a flying flip about you.”
Rachel poked her lips out in a tight frown.
“And you didn’t give a flying flip about her,” Mae Frances added.
“But—”
“But nothing,” Mae Frances snapped. “You would’ve done the exact same thing.”
“No . . .” Rachel stopped when Jasmine cut her eyes Rachel’s way. Rachel slunk back in her chair. “Okay, maybe I would have.”
“Exactly.”
Jasmine finally spoke up. “Rachel, I never wanted to put Lester in harm’s way. I just didn’t want Hosea involved in any way. And honestly, I had no idea that Pastor Griffith was in as deep as he is.”
Rachel just stared at her.
“Rachel, I’m really sorry.”
Rachel wanted to be mad, to go off, but Mae Frances was right. She would’ve done the exact same thing. If she had found out Lester was in danger, she wouldn’t have wanted him involved, either. Suddenly, so much made sense. Why Pastor Griffith was always up in ABC business. Why he had demanded a slot on the board. Why he’d been insistent that Marcus Brewer keep his post as treasurer. Since Marcus was Pastor Griffith’s right-hand man, that would allow him to stay close so he could keep funneling drug money.
“So, you good?” Mae Frances asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
Rachel shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m cool.”
“Are you sure?” Jasmine asked.
Friends & Foes Page 24