by Pete, Eric
“Hello.”
“Junior, I’m in trouble. Big trouble.”
“What do you mean, you’re in trouble?”
“I’m at that spot on Sterling Place, the Nightlife Café, and some dudes just busted in the club and are robbing the place. Me and Trevor are in the bathroom, but it’s not gonna be long before one of them figures out that we’re in here.”
I could hear him sigh, but then he flipped on me. “Didn’t Orlando tell you to keep your ass out of Brooklyn?” he yelled.
“Yeah, Junior, but Orlando ain’t my—” I stopped myself, remembering what my father had told me about thinking things through before I spoke. Now was not the time to be starting a fight with my brother when I needed his help. “Yeah,” I started again with a more respectful tone. “He did, and I should have listened, but that ain’t gonna help me right now. I need you to tell me what to do.”
He sighed again. “You on the first floor or second floor?”
“First floor.”
“Is there a window?”
I looked around. “Yeah, but it’s small.”
“See if it will open, and then get your asses outta there.”
Damn, with everything happening so fast, I didn’t even think about looking for a window, and obviously neither did Trevor.
I pulled the phone from my ear and turned to Trevor, who’d just ended a call. “Trevor, see if that window will open.”
He ran over to the window and pulled it, but it opened only halfway, probably to prevent people from sneaking in. “It won’t open all the way. We won’t fit.”
I studied the window. “You won’t fit, but I will.”
He looked at the small opening, then at me. “You really going out that window?”
“Yep, if you give me a boost.”
For a quick second, he looked pissed, like I was deserting him, but then he finally manned up, cupping his hands for me to step into them.
“I’ll call you when I’m outside,” I promised.
He took a deep breath. “All right, you go ahead. I’ll be okay. The cops are on their way. I’ll meet you at the car when this is all over.”
“Nah. My people are on the way—and trust me, you don’t wanna be here when my brother shows up. He’s not gonna be a happy camper, and he’s gonna blame it all on you.”
“But-”
“Time to go.” I threw my bag out the window. “Bye, Trevor.” I gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. “I had fun.”
“Paris, please. I had a good time. I know I’m a little bit nerdy by your standards, but I like you. I don’t give a damn what your brother thinks.” His eyes refused to meet mine, and hurt registered on his furrowed brow. He probably wanted to continue what we began in the club. Maybe the “nice guy” in him wanted more. I know it sounds lame, but part of me kind of wanted that too, despite the little-bitch way he was acting just a few minutes ago. Hell, with a wife beater, some baggy jeans, and a couple of tattoos, I might be able to pass him off as a thug. Besides, good dick was hard to find, and so was a guy who Daddy would approve of.
“Okay, Trevor, I’ll meet you at the car. Here, take this.” I handed him my gun, then kissed him again. “All you have to do if anyone comes in here is point and squeeze the trigger. The safety is off, and I already have a round in the chamber.”
“See you outside.” He smiled and handed me his keys.
He cupped his hands again, and I stepped up and out the window. A few seconds later, I was on the ground outside the club, picking up my purse. I had a few scrapes from my fall, and my stockings and dress were ruined, but I was no worse for the wear. Now all I had to do was call Junior and let him know I was okay.
LC
12
I checked my watch, shaking my head as I walked down the hall to Harris and London’s bedroom. The last thing I wanted to do was disturb my daughter and son-in-law so late at night, but unfortunately, as Harris was the family’s lawyer, I needed to talk to him about a problem that just couldn’t wait until morning.
I raised my arm to knock but stopped myself when I heard noises coming from behind the door. I was a little embarrassed to admit it, but they were the kind of noises that would make any father uncomfortable, despite the fact that my daughter had been married for five years and had her own child. I thought momentarily about leaving them alone and returning to my bedroom, but I had no choice. This situation needed immediate attention. I knocked on the door twice. Thankfully, the noise stopped and was replaced by whispering.
“Mariah ... honey, is that you?” London called.
“Ah, no, London,” I replied. “It’s me. Is Harris awake? I really need to speak with him. It’s important.”
There was more whispering, and then London said, “Yeah, Daddy. Just a minute. He has to find his robe.” I was sure she was as embarrassed as I was.
Harris opened the door, wearing his robe, slippers, and an irritated look on his face. I wished there was something I could say to him to smooth things over, but what do you say to a man who was screwing your daughter less than five minutes ago?
“What’s up, LC? Everything all right?”
“No. I need you to get dressed. We’ve got work to do.”
“What’s going on?”
I lifted my head and shifted my eyes toward his bedroom door to signal that I didn’t want London to hear us. “I’ll tell you in the car. Meet me downstairs in ten minutes. I’m gonna try and reach Orlando.”
He nodded his understanding, then headed back into his bedroom to get dressed.
As I waited for Harris, I tried to call Orlando again. This was probably the twentieth time I’d called him since we found out the shipment from Asia would not be delivered, and the twentieth time I’d reached his voice mail. He’d better have a damn good reason for not answering my calls, because if he wasn’t dead or seriously injured, I was going to kill him myself.
It wasn’t long before Harris came downstairs, retrieved his coat, and followed me to the front door. He looked tired, but then again, so did I.
“So what’s going on?” he asked.
“It’s Paris,” I told him as we headed for the BMW I’d driven home from the dealership. “She’s being detained at the Fifty-first Precinct in Brooklyn.”
“Son of a bitch! What is wrong with that girl?” Harris didn’t mask his frustration. I was sure he was sick of leaving his family in the wee hours of the night to retrieve her. “What are they holding her for now?”
I stopped in my tracks and told him, “Harris, that boy she brought to our board meeting tonight is dead.”
Shock registered on his face. “Get the fuck out of here! The councilman’s son? You’re kidding, right?”
“I only wish I was.” If he was half asleep before, he sure as hell was awake now. “Here, you drive.”
“Jesus Christ, did she do it?” Harris asked as he slid into the driver’s seat.
I wasn’t surprised to hear him ask that question. I didn’t want to believe she did it, but the possibility had crossed my mind as well. I loved Paris, but we both knew that she had a lot of issues to work through and a lot of growing up to do. She had been known to make impulsive decisions that got her into trouble ever since she was Mariah’s age. Not only that, but she had a temper that only I could control—probably because she’d gotten it from me in the first place. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time she’d been held by the police and needed to be rescued. Usually, it was for fighting some woman over a man. One time it was for something as stupid as someone looking at her wrong, but not this time. This time it was because someone was dead, and we both had to wonder if Paris could have done it.
“No, I don’t think she did it,” I replied.
“Has she been charged?”
“From what the desk sergeant told me, she’s being held as a material witness. She was there when the boy got shot.”
“Well, that’s a good thing.” He placed the car in gear, and we headed down Rockaway Boulevard. “LC, th
is is what I’m here for. Don’t worry. We’ll get this cleared up quickly and have Paris home in no time. What did Orlando have to say?”
“Nothing. I haven’t been able to reach him.”
Harris tried to play it cool, but I could see it caught him off guard. “That’s unlike him. I hope he’s okay. Last thing we need is for him to show up missing.”
“Look, Harris, I don’t need anything else to worry about right now, okay? Let’s just focus on getting Paris away from the police. Orlando is a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
“Point taken,” he said, but that didn’t stop me from worrying about my son. Harris was right; this wasn’t like Orlando at all. If he wasn’t home when I got there, I was going to have to make a few calls.
Silence took over the car for a while as we were both lost in our thoughts about this latest situation.
After a while, Harris said, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.” I already knew what it was going to be about.
“It’s about Orlando.”
Yep, I should probably have my own psychic network the way I could read his mind.
“What about him?”
“You sure this whole leadership thing hasn’t gone to his head? I mean, he should be here or with Junior.... Look, I know he’s your son and the man works hard for the company, but-”
“But what?” I leaned back in my seat and gave him a hard stare. Yes, he was my son-in-law and he did a lot for our company, but Harris was treading on thin ice talking about my son.
“Don’t get me wrong. He’s bright, but he still has a lot to learn about the business.” He gave me a sideways glance, and the confidence left his tone. “I mean, not that what I have to say matters. You’ve already made your decision. I just hope it’s the right one for the family. Personally, me and a few members of the family aren’t so sure.”
“Is that so? Which family members?” I was putting him on the spot because I knew there could be only one family member he’d spoken to, and that was his wife. I studied his face for a reaction. It looked like he was struggling to keep a poker face, but all his tension was evident in the way he was gripping the steering wheel.
“Hey, you know me. I’m a lawyer. I’m not going to throw anyone else under the bus. I could have kept this all to myself, but like you’re always telling me, you pay me for my opinion, so I’m giving it to you. But I’m not the only one with concerns.”
“Okay, so if you were in my shoes, how would you have handled it?”
He took his eyes off the road for a second so we could make eye contact. “Well, if I were you,” he began cautiously, “I would have named a temporary leader. That way if Vegas comes home, he can just take over, and if he doesn’t and the temp does a good job, you could make him permanent—or if Orlando is ready by then, you could put him in charge.”
“Sounds to me like you have this all worked out. So, who would you appoint temporary leader?” I asked, as if I didn’t already know who he would say.
He relaxed his grip on the steering wheel and placed one hand on his chest in a falsely humble gesture. “Hey, look, I don’t want to sound self-righteous, but I would have appointed me.” Oh, he sounded self-righteous, all right. “I already know the ins and outs of the businesses as well as you. I have a law degree, which, I might add, comes in mighty handy, and I have the respect of most of our employees. I could have done a great job. I would have made you proud.”
“And you don’t think Orlando will?” I asked, pushing.
“No, sir, I don’t.”
I sighed out of sheer exhaustion. Why did it seem like everyone in my family was determined to try my patience tonight? “Harris, if you’d like, once we get Paris home and I get some sleep, I will explain to you in detail why I chose Orlando over you. From what you said here, you’ve made a good case for yourself. I’d like you to listen to the case that was presented against you. Would you like that?”
He turned to me and smiled. “Yes, sir, I would, as long as I get a chance to redirect and defend myself.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Harris
13
Once again I came through like a champ, saving the Duncans’ asses and doing it with style. It took me less than fifteen minutes to get Paris out of police custody, a feat I was sure impressed LC. She’d still have to come back in a few days and answer the cops’ questions, but hopefully by then this whole thing would calm down so I could sit down with the right people to have it all swept under the rug. LC had made it very clear to me that he did not want Paris or the Duncan name attached to this case in the media in any way. Of course, that was a tall order, but doable considering how greedy both cops and reporters were these days. I’d already made some inroads with the lieutenant on the case, so I wasn’t concerned about the police, and thankfully, it was already too late for the story to make the morning papers or TV news.
Now all I had to do was get Paris home. That, of course, was if LC didn’t kill her first, because when I walked out into the hallway, the two of them were staring each other down like gunfighters at the O.K. Corral.
“Daddy, I didn’t do anything. I swear,” Paris pleaded, taking a step back so she was out of his reach—which was probably smart, because LC did look like he might smack the shit out of her.
“Shut up,” he said angrily, pointing his finger in her face as he closed the gap between the two of them. “Just shut up. Don’t you say another word.”
“But, Daddy—” That damn Paris just didn’t know when to be quiet. She was always trying to explain her way out of things, when the smart thing to do would be to just shut her mouth. This time, though, she must have sensed the level of her father’s anger, because she cut her sentence short.
I watched as LC closed his hand into a fist. I had no doubt what his next action would be, so I acted fast. “This is not the time or place,” I reminded him through clenched jaws. He shifted his eyes in my direction, and I saw that cold stare he got when he was about to explode. “Remember where you are,” I continued calmly. “This is a police station.”
He glanced around, then nodded as if I’d brought him out of a hypnotic trance. Paris had just dodged a bullet, and I was not even sure she knew it.
“Paris, why do the ones I love the most always disappoint me so?” he asked. They continued their staring contest for a few more seconds, and surprisingly, Paris didn’t have anything to say. Without another word, LC turned and walked toward the exit.
His reaction must have stung more than any slap in the face. Paris looked like she wanted to break down and cry, which was not something I saw often from her. I walked over and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, but she pushed me away.
“I’m a’ight,” she said, following behind her father but giving him some distance.
When we first arrived, LC and I had come in the back door of the precinct, in case the press was camped out in front of the building. I decided that it was best we left the same way, considering the lieutenant told me that Trevor’s family was on their way.
Once we were safely outside, I didn’t waste any time getting Paris in the car and putting some distance between us and that police station. It would be daylight in a few hours, and I couldn’t wait to get to my bed, where, if I was lucky, London might want to finish what we’d started before LC interrupted us.
“Harris, I got to give it to you, brother-in-law. You was gangsta in there with that law shit. I thought those cops were going to crap on themselves when you told me I could leave,” Paris said with her version of affection. She stretched across the black leather seat, stifling a yawn, as if this were just another night out at the club for her. It appeared she’d forgotten about her little confrontation with LC just that quick. He, on the other hand, was obviously still stewing.
“Anytime, sis, but let’s try not make this a habit,” I replied, wishing this could be the last time I had to do something like this—but knowing that in all likelihood, it
wouldn’t be. I preferred the corporate side of the law when working on behalf of the Duncan family interests; that was the side that made me lots and lots of cash.
“Paris, I’m gonna ask you this one time and one time only.” LC spoke in a calm, nonthreatening voice. The proud, defining lines on his face barely shifted, despite the tension at hand. “Did you have anything to do with that boy’s death?”
I didn’t know what he expected her answer to be, but I certainly expected her to say no. The longer she remained silent, though, the more nervous I became. I felt my stomach twist into a tight knot when I heard her answer.
“Yes, Daddy, I did have something to do with it.”
I slammed my foot on the brakes so hard, the car came to a screeching halt. Thank goodness for seat belt laws, because without them, LC and I would have gone through the windshield. I said a quick prayer of thanks for the simple fact that there had been no other cars on the road to crash into us from behind.
“Tell me I didn’t hear what I think I just heard,” I said, turning to LC. “Please tell me she didn’t just admit to killing that boy.”
“I’m sorry, son, but you heard right. We both heard right,” he growled. “I spent almost half a million dollars sending her to special schools in France and Asia so that they could refine her, teach her discipline, so she would act like a lady, and all they did was send me home a cold-blooded murderer. Little girl, I don’t know what I’m gonna do with you. I’m about ready to give up.”
“Wait a minute! Hold on! What the hell are y’all talking about? I didn’t murder him or anything like that.”
“You didn’t?” LC and I said in unison, turning toward the backseat.
“No, but I might as well have pulled the trigger myself by bringing him to that club. He didn’t deserve this, Daddy. He didn’t even wanna go to the club, but I insisted. If it wasn’t for me, he’d be alive right now.” I almost thought I saw a tear in her eye. This night just kept getting more and more bizarre.