Caress

by Grayson Cole

  Her lip trembled. “I’m not stupid, Michael. I didn’t go to the hospital because I was fine. I didn’t go to the police because it wasn’t necessary. While I was out, Elphonse reported what happened to the FBI agents working the case.”

  “Elphonse did?”

  “Yes?”

  “While you were unconscious?”

  “You know what you can do?”

  “Just answer the question,” he retorted.

  She crossed her arms across her chest in response.

  Michael whipped out his cell phone and started dialing. Nya waited. “Yeah, Derrick? It’s Mike… Then you already know… Do you know if the FBI has any information regarding an assault against Nya Seymour in Norfolk two nights ago?”

  Nya held her breath and scooted away from him.

  “I’m not saying it happened,” Michael continued. “I’m asking you if you or your friends received a report that she had been injured and that a thief had stolen potentially critical evidence from the scene… Right… No, no. Absolutely not. I can’t come in until I figure a few things out… No. Goodbye, Derrick.”

  A shudder rippled through her body. Michael only stared at her… waiting.

  Even to her own ears, her next words sounded incredible. “I’m sure he had a good reason for this.”

  “Are you now? I’m not so sure.” He stroked his chin.

  “Michael, he told me to trust him, and I do. I refuse to let you paint him as a sociopath.”

  “Great. Fine. Wonderful. I mean, maybe this assault was just one of many strange occurrences around Hatsheput over the past few weeks that happen to be linked to Elphonse Deklerk. I get a faulty tip-off about your company… from Elphonse Deklerk. Marshall Ellis, who, it turns out, works closely with Deklerk, gets caught for embezzling, then gets killed while out on bail while Elphonse happens to be on the island. Then some guy decides to rob the Norfolk warehouse of the only proof in existence that Rinaldo Mandolesi is a bad guy and take you out at the same time, and Elphonse is there amazingly enough in time for the rescue. When you left him in St. Thomas that morning, he mentioned no plans of going to Virginia.”

  Nya’s eyes shifted down to the floor. “El wouldn’t hurt me, and he’s not a killer.”

  “Listen, Nya. You are not naïve. You are a smart businesswoman, a strong woman. Why would you buy into this?”

  “I know some things aren’t adding up. I know El is hiding something from me. I know it. But I also know that he loves my family, loves me, and he would never, ever do anything to side with Rinaldo Mandolesi.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “I do!” she yelled.

  “Open your eyes,” Michael pleaded. “Your friend is dirty. And if he’s in bed with Mandolesi, you’re lucky you just got a bump on the head. These people don’t play.”

  “I know all about these people,” Nya snapped. “More than you could imagine.”

  “Then tell me what I’m missing.”

  Nya turned to him, “Are you ever going to give this up? I will never believe that El would betray us for Mandolesi.”

  “No, I’m never going to give up,” he replied firmly through clenched teeth.

  “Well, are you at least going to leave so I can eat in peace?”

  “Yes, I’m going to go. You’re not going to be rational about this, which is fine. You may not believe me, but I know I’m right. He’s trying to put you under, and I’ll prove it.”

  “Just go, Michael,” she said tiredly.

  “I’m not finished,” he grated out between clenched teeth and moved ominously close to her. “You may think I’m wrong. You may not think I care about you as much as that man does, but believe that I was going crazy thinking that you had been hurt. No matter what, I’m glad you’re okay, and I care about you,” he said and leaned so close to her that she could smell the faint scent of cologne on his neck.

  “You’ve said that already,” she replied, trying to maintain some sanity in the face of his nearly intoxicating proximity.

  All hope was lost when his lips descended on hers and slowly enticed them to open. She tried, she honestly tried not to give over to him, but she recalled the dream she’d had the night before as she lay in her bed in Norfolk and lost all resolve. She opened her lips and felt his hot tongue slide into her mouth and caress her own. A dream could not compare to this. She felt his arms slide beneath her quilt and lift her body to meet his as his kiss deepened, driving out all her doubts, all her thoughts of anything but that moment. And then, just as suddenly, he wasn’t kissing her anymore. She looked up to see him towering above her. “Goodbye, Nya,” he rasped and turned towards the door. “And believe this.” he said, without even turning around. “I’m not finished with you.”

  Chapter 11

  Michael swung onto I-20 and careened down the interstate. Elphonse Deklerk had led him to make the hugest mistake of his career and was getting away with it. What’s more, Nya refused to believe that this illustrious Elphonse Deklerk had done anything wrong. That infuriated Michael more than anything. For some reason, she was refusing to see the truth about the man. That caused him to wonder if there was something more to their relationship than a platonic friendship spawned from that of their mothers. Nya had denied that she felt anything like that, but she had also denied her attraction to him for some time. Michael pounded his hand on the steering wheel, frustrated with the possibility that Nya was romantically involved with Deklerk.

  Stunned by his own jealous reaction, Michael shook his head with a slow smile. There were only two things that would put his mind at ease. The first was to solve this Hatsheput Industries mystery. The second was to have Nya Seymour. The woman absolutely made him crazy with desire even when she was fighting him tooth and nail. He attributed this to his ego’s need to be stroked. She was a challenge to him, and he refused to see it as anything more.

  Michael pulled into Claudia’s driveway and slowed down to marvel as he always did at the sight of it. Every time he saw this place, he was sure Claude couldn’t have bought anything more ostentatious and showy. It was a massive Greek-influenced structure in smooth canary and white. Its tall, white Ionic pillars, large bay windows, and the sculpted cupola crowning it expressed all the elegance and simplicity that one associated with the South. The manicured lawn sprawled out in luscious green, sprinkled with white lilies, calla lilies, and tulips.

  Though Michael was convinced that it was way too much house for his sister and niece, he knew why Claudia had wanted it. That house had meaning for them all. As children, he and his brother and sisters had grown up very poor. Their mother had had to work constantly to keep food on the table. Claudia, being the oldest, had become responsible from the start for taking care of Michael and his younger brother and sister. He remembered that her only breaks were the times when their mother would take them into work with her, through the back of this new house, always on Sundays when the family was out for their drive. They would wander with wide eyes through the house, careful not to touch anything, careful not to even breathe on anything.

  Michael remembered how Claudia had studied long after they were in bed, vowing that one day she would have all the things those rich people had. When she received a full scholarship to Columbia, she didn’t tell anyone at all. Michael had been the only one to notice that she was despondent. He watched her sit in the living room for days, not saying anything, just staring at the walls. He found the letter by accident and knew what her problem was. She wanted to go so bad she could taste it, but she felt responsible for him, Kimberly, and Darryn. It was then that he realized how integral she was to making the house run. He remembered telling their mother and how her face had beamed with pride. Right then they both came to a decision. Claudia would go to school and Michael would start to take responsibility for himself and his younger siblings.

  That day saw Claudia amid tears and excited chatter started on her way to becoming one of the premiere editors in the newspaper business, and one of the few Afric
an-Americans to do so. He followed in her footsteps somewhat by going to college himself after Kim made it to high school. He worked his way through four years at Stanford and earned a degree in journalism. For two years, he and Claudia put away money to create their own publication. After one late, whirlwind night of planning, they quit their jobs and poured all of their hearts and hard work into founding the Harrison Tribune.

  Their paper had been named the fastest growing black-owned publication ever printed. Within two years it was circulating throughout the country. In five, its print runs were eclipsed by its huge web following; the online newspaper was published in four languages and sold all over the world. Their staff had grown from two to over two hundred.

  To celebrate their unparalleled success, Claudia bought this house, the very house in which their mother had worked so hard for years to make sure that they were fed and clothed; the very house in which their mother had worked herself into an early grave. After that, it had seemed that a cloud had lifted from around his sister. Her steadfast determination had brought her to a place of personal satisfaction. She had accomplished an important personal goal.

  Michael walked into the house and called out to his sister. He heard her call back and followed her voice into the den. She was sitting with reading glasses perched low on her nose and papers spread out all around her. His niece Tonia was lying on the floor highlighting portions of a textbook. Michael leaned down and pulled the young woman’s wild ponytail. “Stop it, Unc Mike,” she said and snapped her head away. He grabbed the thick wooly hair in his hand again and she pushed at his leg. “Go away. Ain’t you got something better to do than bother me?” she whined.

  Michael laughed again and went over to sit next to his sister, shifting various pieces of paper out of the way. After he glanced over some of them without interest and looked at her, Claudia asked, “What’s up, bro?”

  Michael looked over at his niece and said to his sister, “Can we talk?”

  “Yeah, sure,” she said with a little frown.

  Claudia was starting to get up when her daughter grumbled, “I’m not twelve. You two can talk in front of me.”

  The siblings exchanged a look. Claudia shrugged.

  “Have you talked to Derrick tonight? I spoke to him earlier about the Art Sentries case and I haven’t been able to get in touch with him since.”

  “What makes you think I would have spoken to him?” Claudia asked… but her eyes were shifty.

  Michael eyed his niece pretending not to listen on the floor. Finally, the younger woman capitulated. “Okay, okay. You two want to talk without me here? That’s fine.” She took up her textbook, a notebook, and her cell phone, then exited the room.

  “What’s the big deal about talking about Derrick in front of her?” Michael asked.

  “I just don’t think she needs to hear me say things about her dad when he’s not present.”

  “She’s not twelve,” Michael said, then snickered.

  “Anyway, I did talk to Derrick this evening. It must have been before he talked to you because he didn’t say anything worth mentioning.”

  “He just called to shoot the breeze? You two don’t shoot the breeze.”

  “Mikey, you didn’t come over here to talk about my conversations with Derrick. What’s going on?”

  Michael cleared his throat. “I’d like to talk to you about this, sis, but you have to promise me that anything I say is off the record.”

  “Off the record? Off the record?”

  “Yes, off the record.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “It means that I don’t want to be pressured about putting anything I’m about to tell you into the Tribune.”

  “I won’t promise that. What are you, crazy? If you’ve got something worth tellin’ ‘off the record,’ it’s probably exactly what we ought to lead with.”

  “Claude, I need you to be my sister right now.”

  Claude raised an eyebrow in a look that people always said they both could give. “Fine, off the record, what’s up?”

  “Nya Seymour went to Norfolk to research a lead she found in the Art Sentries case. While she was there, she went after hours to their warehouse at the dock. While there, she discovered a photograph linking Rinaldo Mandolesi to the scholarship recipients who died, as well as to other crimes. Someone attacked her in the warehouse and stole the photograph. I went over to see about her today. She got back last night.”

  Claudia nodded patiently. In a soft voice, she asked, “And you don’t think we should put this in our paper?”

  “Not yet, Claude. Not yet.”

  “Right.”

  “But there’s more.”

  “More that we can’t publish?”

  “Right.”

  Just then her doorbell sounded. “Hold that thought,” she told him as she went to answer it.

  Claudia returned with tension around her eyes and mouth. She was followed by her ex-husband.

  Derrick started into the den but was stopped in the doorway by his daughter, who hugged him tight before disappearing from the room again. Then he came forward and sat in a rocking chair near the sofa. His eyes lazily scanned Claudia, taking in her yoga pants and t-shirt. Michael did not want to even imagine what the man was thinking.

  “I’ve been looking for you.”

  “I saw you called, Mike, but I was trying to get some information. You can’t call and ask me the questions you asked me and not expect me to start digging.”

  “Yeah, well, he expects me not to publish it,” Claudia complained.

  “Listen, both of you. I can’t risk Nya being hurt again. It’s quite possible she’s still in danger because of what she’s seen.”

  Both of them waited for Michael to explain. He stood up and paced around the room as he told them all he knew. After recounting what Nya told him, he asked what they thought about the information he had shared about Elphonse Deklerk.

  “Deklerk doesn’t matter,” Derrick concluded.

  “How’s that?”

  “He doesn’t matter. Regardless of whether he set you up or not, whether he’s a liar, a killer, or a thief, he’s still not the big fish. That continues to be Mandolesi. What’s important are those photos. We’ve got to get them back.”

  “I’m sure Mandolesi has had them destroyed by now.”

  “Yeah, probably, but depending on how the boy took the photos, we need to be on the lookout for digital files or negatives. I guarantee you Mandolesi is out looking for the same. He won’t have been satisfied with a hard copy.”

  Michael opened his mouth to argue, but realized quickly that his brother-in-law was exactly right. “I need to go back to St. Thomas.”

  “You need to stop spending the company’s entire travel budget. We do have other reporters that have to travel, you know.”

  “I know, but Claudia, think about us publishing the only photos ever to catch Rinaldo Mandolesi red-handed.”

  “Michael,” Derrick said and held up a hand. “You do know that I’m going to have to report this. This is a Bureau investigation and it is their responsibility to interview Ms. Seymour, to comb the crime scenes, and to search for the proof.”

  “I get that, I’m not planning to get in the way. What I want is your opinion on this Elphonse Deklerk. I know you say he doesn’t matter, but I know there’s a link. I know he’s a liar, and I’m not going to let him hurt her.”

  Claudia started to speak, but Derrick interrupted her. “Then I’ll see what I can find out about him.”

  Derrick understood. Michael was thankful that Derrick understood. He just wondered when his sister would understand how much her ex-husband wanted his family back.

  Chapter 12

  Nya sat riveted to her computer. For the past couple of weeks she had thrown herself into her work in an attempt to drive all thoughts of her father and the Norfolk issue out of her mind. Her father had issued an executive order that she stop her investigation after Elphonse told him that she ha
d been assaulted. Nya wouldn’t put it past him to have his minions within the company and the FBI report back to him if they witnessed her doing anything that could be construed as dangerous. He was treating her like a foolish child, and Nya was bound and determined to prove him wrong. There was much to do at work with a major company event coming up, and the majority fell on Nya’s shoulders as Elphonse was more MIA lately than normal.

  Most times she actually succeeded in getting El off her mind, but lying in wait was a subject even more threatening to her mental stability: Michael Harrison. If he was killing her with kindness, then she was nearly dead. He had been around finishing up his piece on Hatsheput and behaving so much the gentleman that was ridiculous. He hadn’t asked after the investigation or even made an accusation regarding Elphonse since that day at her house. In fact, he barely spoke to her, but when he did he was exceedingly polite, frustratingly charming, and not once had he tried to kiss her. Secretly, she thought about him all the time, him kissing her, his superb body open to her for exploration.

  Once she’d come into an office filled with roses. Her heart had begun to thud uncontrollably to the point where she could barely breathe. She’d reached for the card hoping…hoping for what she didn’t know. She’d read the platonic, “It’s been nice working with you. Your feature has gone to print. Michael,” and had nearly been crushed, though she wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t as if she were involved with him.

  But wasn’t she involved with Michael? She remembered the night after she’d met with the Art Sentries mothers. He had held her hand and comforted her while she cried. Then she had let him take her upstairs where God knew what would have happened if they hadn’t been interrupted by the phone call about Marshall Ellis. It wasn’t like her to get that carried away, but she couldn’t deny the connection she felt to Michael Harrison. Something about him drew her.

  Sadly, there were so many reasons she could not get involved with anyone, especially not him. For one, she had to devote too much of her time to work, and she couldn’t risk letting her personal life interfere with the future she had planned for herself as president of Hatsheput; also, maybe most importantly, she was frightened to death of the things Harrison made her feel, the way he made her act. Nya shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will the entire string of thoughts from her mind but never quite succeeding. She needed to talk to someone.