Relapse: A Novel

by Nikki Turner

  Sterling asked, “Why the personal interest?”

  “It’s a long story. And the clock is ticking, but for now we need to put our heads together to figure out as much as we can.”

  “I’ll take the abbreviated version,” Sterling told the younger man in a no-nonsense tone.

  “Well …” Stash sighed in thought. “I was deep in the dope game, wildin’ in the streets. School by day, slaying narcotics as soon as the school bell rang, until one day I was dropping off a package and saw firsthand what kind of power and perks drugs could give to the wrong person. To save a little girl from a pervert motherfucker, I murdered a man.”

  Sterling stood there in shock. He knew what incident Stash was speaking of. Even after years of counseling Beijing had always denied that she knew how the dead man got in that kitchen or that she had seen anything. He wanted to thank the guy that stood in front of him, but instead he listened.

  “That incident changed my life and my lifestyle. From that point on no matter what kind of money it could put in my pocket, I never sold another narcotic whatsoever. I didn’t want to destroy lives anymore.

  “For years I always wondered what became of that little girl with the most intense brown eyes I’d ever seen. Then I saw Beijing’s picture in a magazine article a couple of years back as the best concierge in the country. Still have that article to this day. That’s the day I fell in love with your daughter.”

  Sterling could not believe how small the world was. That the man who’d saved his daughter had been under his nose and he didn’t even know it.

  Stash added, “When you contacted me, the only reason I agreed to talk directly to her and allowed you to give her my direct number is because I knew she could hold water. To the best of my knowledge, she has kept our deadly secret for all these years. Though it was hard, I made up my mind that I wouldn’t intrude in her life. That’s why I only dealt with her by phone, text, and email. But now”—Stash leveled his eyes with Sterling’s—“all that has changed. I’m going to find her, and I’m not going to let her get away from me again if I can help it.”

  CHAPTER 39

  Blood Is Thicker than Mud

  As Thelma faced the vanity mirror in the marble-floored master bathroom and applied the finishing touches to her makeup, Isador slipped up on her from behind, planting a soft kiss to the back of her neck.

  “You’re going to make me mess up my face,” she said to him.

  The two had gotten married right after high school. They had raised two wonderful kids and been happily married, give or take a few hundred disagreements, for more than three decades. This day was their thirty-fifth wedding anniversary.

  “Your face is as beautiful now as it was on our wedding day,” Isador said.

  Thelma blushed. Thelma might not look like an eighteen-year-old but at fifty-three, she could still pass for a woman in her mid-thirties. She still worked out at least three times a week and tried to eat right. The rest was genetics.

  “My husband is still strikingly handsome too,” Thelma tossed back.

  Isador ran an open hand across his full head of sandy red hair. “That husband of yours is a lucky man,” he said. “Now hurry. The kids are downstairs. I just saw them.”

  Thelma smiled, knowing those two children of hers were never on time. Her son had suggested they have a home-cooked meal prepared by a chef before they left for the Golden Princess cruise—fourteen days to Hawaii and back—he’d given them for their anniversary. Thelma and Isador could hardly wait until morning when they were scheduled to set sail; they had been packed for over a week.

  Thelma locked eyes with her son after coming down the steps. He was watching CNN with his sister. “Every time I see you,” she said to Lootchee, smiling, “you look more like your father.”

  Lootchee stood to give his mother a hug. “Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad. You two look great. Congrats.”

  “Don’t they?” Gia chimed in, embracing her dad.

  “Let’s make a toast,” Lootchee suggested.

  Isador went to get four glasses and the bottle of Moët & Chandon he’d been saving, and then popped the cork.

  “Allow me.” Lootchee removed the bottle from his father’s hand and filled the flutes. “May health, wealth, and wisdom never elude you,” he declared. The four glasses of bubbly kissed with a high-pitched “ting” when they touched. Then they drank.

  As Lootchee sipped on the champagne, he couldn’t help but think of the lies he’d told Beijing about his parents. He felt bad, but he had to come up with something to get her to come back with him. For the first time, he thought how the truth might have sounded: I love you, B, but when I feel like you are giving me the least bit of rejection, I just get preoccupied, sometimes with my girl on the side.

  They still had a few minutes to kill before it was time to eat, so Lootchee asked his sister to get him online.

  “It doesn’t make no sense you still don’t know how to use a computer,” she teased.

  “Just get me on the thing. That nigga Jeff told me he emailed me a picture of his new car.”

  “I ain’t yo’ damn secretary,” Gia fussed, but she logged on to his email account. “It’s easy to get on; you need to sit still long enough so I can teach you how to do it yourself.”

  Lootchee stood over his sister’s shoulders as his email account opened. “Go to the one that says Beijing Lee,” he said with a big smile. Lootchee was shocked but happy that she had emailed him. He hadn’t heard anything from her since she tried to ruin his birthday

  Gia did as she was told, causing Lootchee’s smile to be wiped off his face, “What da fuck?” The contents of the video shattered his thoughts. Gia sat mesmerized as everything came together in her mind.

  “Watch yo’ mouth,” his father quickly scolded him.

  Before Lootchee could react, Gia gasped, “Oh my God!”

  Lootchee broke a lamp in his parents’ house, throwing it across the room. “Shit! I can’t believe this bullshit,” he screamed. His father tried to calm him down but it wasn’t working.

  Gia had her mouth open for a few minutes before speaking. “I think Roy may have something to do with this,” she muttered

  “What, why do you say that?” Lootchee asked as he took in every detail.

  “I thought that motherfucker was bullshitting. Roy kept saying that he had some million-dollar heist going on. I blew it off, I thought he was in on a bank robbery or an armored truck. He left a couple of days ago to go to North Carolina and everytime he calls he talking about how he going to get us a bunch of money and I would never have to ask you to do a damn thing for me again. I had no idea that it—”

  “That what?” He huffed angrily. “That he was going to snatch Beijing? The one chick I ever gave a fuck about? Shit.” He shook his head. “She don’t deserve this bullshit.”

  Gia saw the hurt written on her brother’s face. He always was so secretive about everything he did. The mere fact that he admitted to actually having feelings for someone was shocking—and now this. It hurt her to see her brother the way he was, and she especially felt guilty because her boyfriend was partly responsible.

  “I never liked that dirty dog anyway,” Thelma said.

  Gia felt rotten.

  Lootchee went over to his dad. “Dad, I need all the money I had you put up for me and anything extra you might have. This is my fault and I have to get this girl back.”

  Thelma came up behind them. “Son, it will be okay. Just calm down.” Everything his mother said went in to one ear and out the other.

  Lootchee got the money from his father and raced out the door.

  Gia was on his heels. She took a deep breath, and said to her brother, “Blood is always thicker than mud, and this is what I know.” She told her brother everything she could, even though it meant double-crossing her man.

  CHAPTER 40

  It Takes One to Know One

  Paris raced into the house wearing a pink sweat suit and sneakers. She went straigh
t over to Greta and gave her a hug.

  She released her and then said in a louder voice, “Everything will be okay.”

  “I know,” Greta whispered, even though she wasn’t too sure of anything.

  “Any news at all?” Paris searched Greta’s teary eyes for answers. All she saw was hurt.

  She took a long deep breath, lowered her voice, and said, “No news at all.” She dropped her head in disgust. “But I’m prayerful that God is going to work this all out.”

  “Well, if it’s money they want, why haven’t they called?” Paris declared.

  Greta didn’t have an answer. “We don’t know. We don’t know anything. There’s been nothing since that email. I keep telling myself that maybe it’s a hoax.”

  “Maybe it is and maybe it ain’t. I need answers, I love my sister,” Paris said and looked around. “Who is in fucking charge around here?”

  “Detective Jimmy Janks,” a detective said, introducing himself.

  Greta spoke up. “This is Beijing’s sister.” As the detective and Paris spoke to each other there was a knock at the door. Greta went to see who it was. She was hoping and praying that it was someone with some answers instead of questions. A team of caterers walked in with caviar, escargots, crab cakes and all kinds of delicacies, courtesy of Prince Amir. He had already put up a reward for anyone with information about the kidnapping and come up with half of the ransom. He said it was the least he could do; Beijing had a good soul, for an American girl.

  Darkness had taken over the sky. The lights, cameras, satellite transceivers, and other equipment the reporters used to digitally transport their photographs, videos, and stories to the control room were finally off. Rayna took in a long breath of fresh air, then exhaled before pushing the doorbell.

  The front door swung open, revealing a puffy-faced, tear-stained Greta. Rayna stepped into the foyer of the house and hugged Greta.

  “Has there been any news? What do they know?” She bombarded Greta with questions.

  Greta dabbed her eyes. “Nothing since that horrible video,” she said. “Come on in. Have something to eat.”

  Rayna followed Greta’s lead into the great room, scoping the downstairs of the house. People were scattered all over the place. Willabee was in one corner talking to Chyna. They both looked as if their best friend had died.

  Rayna felt a tug at her heart. “Where’s Sterling?”

  “Working. You know he’s one of those people who can’t sit still. Anticipation kills him, so he throws himself into his work,” Greta said.

  Rayna had figured he would be on post, like everyone else, waiting for the call from the kidnappers. Rayna and Greta spoke for about five minutes before Rayna made her way over to Paris.

  “Hey, girl,” she said. Paris jerked her head around toward the voice. “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m holding.” She looked Rayna up and down, and then asked, “Why are you here?”

  The question caught Rayna off guard. “I—I was concerned,” she answered, mad at herself for stammering. “I just want to know if there’s anything at all I could do to help.”

  Paris was studying Rayna closely, but Rayna had pulled herself together. She knew that Paris didn’t care too much for her from the way she kept giving her the cold shoulder.

  “I have five hundred dollars if you all need it,” Rayna offered.

  Paris glared at her. “Ten million is a lot of money, but we don’t need a damn thing from yo’ ass.”

  “It’s not for you, Paris, it’s for Beijing.”

  “Look …” Paris had her hands on her hips. “Beijing doesn’t need your money and we don’t need your company. Besides, we’ve got the money together if it comes down to that. I don’t know why my sister can’t tell you are not worthy of her friendship. But you can’t trick me. I’ve been a larceny-hearted bitch most of my adult life, it takes one to know one.” Paris scanned Rayna from head to toe. “I know one when I see one.” She pointed and said, “You.”

  “You are just jealous because I’m closer to your own sister than you will ever be.”

  “You wish,” Paris said, unconvincingly.

  “I don’t know why you dislike me the way you do, Paris, I’ve never done anything to you … and I’ve been nothing but a friend to your sister.” Rayna spoke deliberately. “I’m not tripping on you, though, because I know this situation has everyone stressed to the max, including me. But that’s no reason to take your pent-up frustrations out on me. I’m only trying to help.”

  “Whatever.” Paris walked away, leaving Rayna alone and looking stupid.

  Rayna said good-bye to Greta and Willabee and shared her intentions and regrets one more time with them.

  “We’ll let you know when we learn something,” Greta said.

  Rayna drove past the camera people at the entranceway of the house, and then looked both ways before turning the white BMW X5 onto the dark road that would lead her onto the main stretch. Relieved to be out of there, she picked up her cell phone and dialed York. She set the cell phone on speaker and laid it in her lap in case someone drove by.

  He answered on the first ring. “What up, baby?”

  “I did everything you told me to,” she said into the phone. “Nobody knows anything and everybody is shook up. They’re all waiting for the call and ready to pay whatever you say. They done gathered up the money and everything.”

  “That’s what up,” York replied, sounding extremely happy with what he heard.

  “I’ll call you back. Later.” Rayna hung up and dropped the phone in her pocketbook on the passenger seat. She turned the volume up on Teflon’s new song blaring from the Bose speakers, singing it word for word as she made her way down the dark road.

  “I knew you were a snake from Day One,” Paris said. She had been hiding in the back of the vehicle and had now revealed herself by sliding one of the seats down. She pointed her .25-semiautomatic directly at the back of Rayna’s head. “Bitch, don’t give me a reason to kill yo’ ass. I don’t like you anyhow,” she spat. “Now, where’s Beijing, bitch?”

  Rayna tried to regain her composure and play innocent. “What the hell are you doing in my truck, Paris? Are you crazy or something?”

  “Not crazy as I’m going to be if you don’t come clean. Where the fuck is my sister?” This time she made a gesture with the gun showing her she wasn’t afraid to use it.

  Rayna was trying to think of the right thing to say or do.

  “How would I know where she is?” Her eyes bounced from the road to the mirror and back again. “Please put that gun away.”

  “You’d rather deal with me than the others, that’s for sure. Drive where I tell you, bitch,” she said and poked Rayna with the gun. Rayna followed Paris’s directions until they pulled up at the double gate of Sterling’s business. Paris had called him on the way over, and he was waiting at the gate. He opened the gates then shut and locked them behind the BMW.

  The door opened and Stash stood there, looking down at Rayna with fire in his eyes.

  “Turn off the car and get out,” he said roughly.

  Rayna did as she was told. They led her inside and sat her down in a metal chair.

  “Don’t make it harder for yourself than it already is,” Sterling threatened.

  “Don’t take him lightly. If he has to, he will set fire to your ass to make you talk,” Paris leaned down and whispered to Rayna.

  “It wasn’t my idea,” Rayna cried. “But, honestly, I don’t know where she’s at. They threatened to kill me. That’s the truth.”

  “I’m going to kill you, bitch, if you don’t do better than that,” Sterling shot back. He was distracted when his phone rang. He answered, “Yes.”

  “Mr. Lee, sorry to have to call you under these circumstances. It’s about Beijing.” It was Lootchee.

  “Do you know her whereabouts?”

  “No, I don’t, but I have managed to pull together some money. A few mil. I’m on my way to your house if you don’t
mind waiting on the call.”

  “Yeah, call my wife, but if you got warrants I wouldn’t go there.”

  “I don’t even really care about that.” Lootchee thought about how Bambi had lied to him about the police coming to her house just to get back at him, forcing him to South America. “I just want to be wherever I need to be to help get her back.” Lootchee sounded like a sad puppy dog.

  “Well, that’s where the family and friends are posted up,” Sterling said bluntly with appreciation that Lootchee was trying to help. “Be careful, man, traveling with all that green.”

  “I’m flying in private so I’ll be okay.”

  While Sterling was on the phone, Stash went through Rayna’s purse and found her cell phone. After studying it for a second, he dialed the last number Rayna had called. Stash put the phone on speaker as it rang.

  “Yo, what’s up?”

  Rayna grimaced when she heard York’s voice over the speaker.

  “We have Rayna,” Stash said loud enough to be heard. “You give us back Beijing the same way you found her and you can have Rayna. No questions asked.”

  York erupted in laughter.

  “You must be kidding, man. That shit is real funny.” His voice boomed out of the speakerphone. “Rayna ain’t worth nothing to me. I was wondering how I was going to shake the dumb bitch after this was over anyway,” he said. “With ten mil in my pockets, a nigga ain’t got no need for a straggly bitch, no way. If you want Beijing back … it’s going to take ten mil. Good try though.” He was roaring in laughter. “I will be in touch with the instructions within the next twenty-four hours. Oh, and this phone will be destroyed in a matter of seconds, so no need to try to trace it.”