Chapter 30
Chance pulled into the high school parking lot. He halfway thought maybe Reggie might have come to school on his own. He just needed to talk to him. No more consulting with Rashawn on everything. He needed to talk to Reggie about who his father was and why things were going the way they were right now. “Rashawn should have told him years ago. Roman can’t hurt him—but not knowing that Roman was his father can. And for all I know, Roman could be alive. The guy is like evil walking. I need to find Reggie, and then find out who the hell that cat was. Hell, for all I know Juanita could be in danger too!”
Stepping out of his car, several young girls noticed him. “Hi, Mr. Davis.”
“Hey there, have any of you seen Reggie today?”
“No, I was just going to ask you the same thing,” the tallest, prettiest of the girls said, swinging her long braids over her shoulder.
“Oh, okay thanks,” Chance answered, attempting to keep the panic out of his voice. He headed to the office to check with the attendance clerk.
“No, he’s been marked absent in his first and second periods, Mr. Davis.”
“Dammit,” Chance mumbled under his breath. “What about his friend, Francisco.”
“Mr. Davis, Francisco is here.” She flipped through the logs. “Jackson is here, too.”
She noticed his growing despair. “Problem?”
“Yes, and I need you to please call my cell number if he shows up today ... please,” Chance said, rushing out. Climbing behind the wheel, Chance rushed to several different BART stations, just in case he might see Reggie sitting here—trying to get somewhere. His mind was spinning, only momentarily landing on the information Ovan had given him. “Allen Roman alive?” he said aloud, instantly feeling the sharp pain in his side—the pain caused by Doc when kicked his ribs, breaking them. Chance blinked hard hoping to erase the pictures that now began to flash before him mercilessly. The concrete rushing toward his face, the broom he attempted to protect himself with, used as a weapon—a sword. He’d hit that big man—Doc—fifteen, twenty times, to no avail. He just kept coming! Roman had created a monster in Doc. He’d taken a simple man—maybe even a decent man, Blain Tollome and changed him into a drug addicted maniac everyone called Doc—a crazed killer that he could control through hypnotic suggestion. No one really knew why Doc became so obsessed with Rashawn. Only once or twice Rashawn talked about the night she killed Doc. The trial had been hell, and afterward she never really wanted to talk about it, but when she did, she told Chance that Doc had told her he loved her. Chance could only think that despite the control that Roman had on his mind, Doc’s heart belonged to Rashawn and that he had stalked her in his efforts to protect her from Allen Roman. That was the part that tore Rashawn up worst of all.
True, Doc had done some terrible things around Moorman campus in his involvement with the deadly Get Ass drug, but as Rashawn had said after it was all over, “I killed an innocent man. He’d never done anything to me. Those bullets belonged to Allen Roman.”
Horns honked as Chance sped through the red light. “God! Get your head back here, Chance!” he told himself, catching his heart as it nearly jumped from his body upon realizing he’d nearly been hit by an oncoming car.
Chance had a lot of baggage. He realized that now. He’d buried his pain in order to deal with Rashawn’s. He’d buried his shame in order to deal with Juanita’s. But the time had come and now he needed to deal with what he felt—but perhaps this too would wait until later. Right now, he had to find Reggie. Stroking his cell phone, he contemplated calling Rashawn. Surely she was at the airport already. Flying wasn’t her favorite thing to do and without a doubt, this would upset her even more. What could she do to fix any of it anyway? Okay, so Roman was alive, it didn’t mean he was anywhere near them. He’d done so much to so many people, why would Reggie and Rashawn be the focus of his attention after all this time? “But then, Chance, he is crazy, you know this, right? And if he’s here in this city as that guy insinuated—what else is he here for!” Glancing at his watch, Chance realized then he been roaming the streets for over an hour. He headed back to Juanita’s. When he arrived no one was home.
Chapter 31
Rashawn had barely cleared the city when she noticed her gas gauge and pulled into the closest gas station to refuel. She hated pumping her own gas. Huffing just a bit, she stepped from the car and pulled out her credit card to slide it into the machine. Again she was hit with the feeling of foreboding, coupled with one of being watched. She glanced around. The black BMW moved slowly through the station. The windows were dark. If she was paranoid, she’d swear the car was circling her. She felt as if it was. Turning her head to and fro, she strained to see the driver but couldn’t. She began to pump her gas, watching the car out of the corner of her eye as it pulled over to a parking stall—as if waiting for her to finish up.
Quickly, she climbed in behind the wheel and again thought about calling Chance. “You’re being silly,” she sighed. “This isn’t about Chance. This is about Reggie. Start at the source, Rashawn.” Dialing Reggie’s phone instead, she suddenly realized that she had it in her purse—or so she thought. Digging around for it she realized it wasn’t there. “Shoot, I musta left it in my pocket or in the kitchen ... dangit.” She rubbed her head. Looking around she had to make a decision. She was already pretty far from home but had many miles between there and Arizona. She called Trina only to get her machine.
“You’ve reached national best-selling author Trina Ams, but then again, if you have this number you must already know that, so what choo want?” the recording said, followed by laughter.
“Trina, this is Shawn, look, I’m having some issues with Reggie—go figure. So, I’m gonna try to deal with them first and then I’ma drive out. So don’t expect me until morning. I won’t be late for the thing—okay. So just wait for me,” Rashawn said before hanging up.
She felt a little better just having said that out loud. Now she could head back to the house and deal with reality before heading off to the land of fiction.
Chapter 32
Chance pulled into the driveway of his home. He noticed immediately that Rashawn’s car was missing. “She was supposed to call a cab,” he mumbled under his breath. Climbing out of the car he headed over to Rita’s house, walking. He knocked on the door. Rita answered. “Rashawn drove somewhere?” he asked.
“You didn’t know? God, my sister is losing it.” Rita shook her head. “Chance, she decided to drive to Arizona. Why in the hell does she do stuff like this?”
“What?”
“She said she just had too much on her mind to fly. She wanted some time,” Rita made quotation marks around the word “time.”
“Dammit!” Chance blurted, catching Rita off guard. “Allen Roman isn’t dead,” Chance blurted.
“What?”
“I know. I know. It’s crazy ... and I don’t even know who to call for verification. I guess somebody in Jamaica. But first I have to find Reggie. I can’t even relax until I find Reggie—then I’ll deal with this.”
Rita’s eyes widened. “Reggie? Where is Reggie?”
Just then Ovan and Juanita pulled up in Ovan’s sports car. Juanita’s window rolled down. Her face was reddened and her eyes wide and crazed. “Is Junior with you?” she asked.
“What is wrong with her?” Rita asked regarding Juanita’s expression. But Chance’s tightened stomach was the only answer he could muster.
Juanita jumped out of the car and flew into Chance’s arms. “Tell me he’s with you. I went with Ovan to look at the Amtrak for Reggie and we came back and Junior was gone.”
Ovan stepped out of the car. “There was indeed a ticket at the station in Reggie’s name.”
“What? I didn’t get him a ticket!” Chance barked.
“My guess is Allen Roman did ... the purchaser’s name was a Dr. Lipton ... and well, Dr. Lipton is dead,” Ovan explained, sounding a bit casual, which Chance could only figure was his way of attempt
ing to keep the situation under control. It wasn’t working, though.
Rita clawed Chance’s arm. “Junior? Junior was here a little while ago. What’s going on Chance? Where is Reggie? Oh my God!”
“Junior was at the house?”
“Yes, a little bit ago. He went in and came out with a couple of backpacks. Hell, I didn’t know I was supposed to stop him. If folks would tell me stuff and quit ... !” Rita’s voice trailed off as she went back into the house, only to return within a millisecond with her jacket on.
“Rita, stay home. Don’t leave. Rashawn may call you. We need someone to stay and you know it can’t be me.” Chance moved from Juanita’s embrace and headed toward Ovan. “Now what, Mr. FBI, or British Intelligence or whoever you are.” Chance asked him. “You’ve got my attention. Now, if you don’t want my foot up your ass you’ll play it straight with me.”
“I’m here looking for Allen Roman. My search for him brought me looking for your wife because her son Reggie could be in danger. That’s as straight as I can give it to you at this moment.”
“Well, that’s straight enough. Let’s go,” Chance blurted heading for his house. Ovan stopped him by grabbing hold of his shoulder.
“Where is your wife?”
“She’s on her way to Arizona—driving. She was supposed to be on a plane so if anybody is looking for her, they spent some wasted time at the airport. Do you think he might have been following her?”
“Not likely, but if he managed to figure out she was getting on a plane he figured out she didn’t. Roman is a bit more direct I think and if he was following anybody it was Reggie. Junior spoke about a scout calling, do you know anything about this?”
“No, but Rashawn has Reggie’s phone. I’ll have her check the calls on there,” Chance called Rashawn’s phone.
Chapter 33
It was official, the BMW was following her. She was freaked out and not sure what to do next. Traffic was picking up on the I-5 as she headed north on her way back home. It was a weekend day around noon—soon she was at a crawl with no way off. Her cell phone rang. Thinking it was Chance she answered it without checking the number.
“Chance,” she answered. Her voice was choked and nervous.
“Hello, Rashe. I missed you, my beloved. It’s your real husband ...”
“What? Who is this?”
“You don’t know? My myyyy. It’s Allen baby,” he purred sensually. “The father of your firstborn—”
“Allen?” she screeched, dropping the phone. Her head spun madly now, as she searched for the black BMW. Madly she began to weave through the slow traffic taking each and every opening she could find. Her phone rang again, but she refused to look at the number or dare to answer it.
Seeing what appeared to be a sudden break in traffic, she aimed for an exit at top speed without any regard for others on the road. Looking in the rear view mirror, the black BMW was right on her tail. Her phone rang again but her hands were frozen to the wheel. She looked again for the black car that now she was certain contained Allen Roman. Darting off the exit, the BMW rushed up behind her. The next glance in the rear view mirror horrified her. She could see his eyes. She could see his wicked smile before feeling the jerk of her neck caused by his car bumping the back of hers. Speeding up, she attempted to merge with the fast flow of oncoming traffic. Again she noticed Roman rushing up behind her. She pulled, blindly, into the lane without paying any mind to the blaring horn of the semi truck. Roman’s evil grin was last thing she would remember before the sounds of metal crushing metal, the screeching and smell of burning brakes filling her senses.
Chapter 34
“She’s still not answering?” Juanita asked, noticing Chance’s tense expression. He’d called at least a dozen times, on their way to the Amtrak station again.
He hesitated and then shook his head. “No.”
Juanita rubbed his back. “She’ll answer. She doesn’t stay mad long.” Chance glared at her and moved over to where Ovan was standing. Alongside him stood his team of one, a small built woman named Maravel. Ovan had been making calls as well—one of them brought Maravel to the station, another was to Homicide. That call nearly sent Chance into a frenzy of redial segments to Rashawn’s phone.
“We’ve got people at every local station now. So if they try to get on a train, we’ve got them ... no worries,” Ovan assured Chance, no doubt sensing his despair.
“Are they going to stop them?”
“No.”
“No? What the hell ...” Chance blurted. Ovan held out his hand.
“They are not going to stop them. They are going to follow them. It doesn’t help to stop them if in fact Allen Roman is following them. We need to catch Roman—not two boys on their way to Oregon. Do you understand?”
Chance slammed his phone deep into his pocket. “No, no I don’t. I need to talk to a real cop.” Chance looked at Maravel. “No offense, lady, but I don’t know you either. Do you have kids?”
“No,” Maravel answered shyly.
“Then you have no idea how this is killing me. I can’t find my wife. I can’t find my kids! And I don’t know who to trust!”
“I understand, Mr. Davis. The police are looking for your wife right now. Ovan and I are looking for your children—”
“No, no, you’re no. You’re looking for Allen Roman,” Chance snapped before storming off. “We’re not on the same page.”
“He’s got a pretty bad temper,” Ovan noticed.
“Well, because of Allen Roman, Chance was almost killed,” Juanita told him, watching where Chance was heading.
Ovan’s head went back with the revelation. “Hmm ... well then I guess that will do it. Allen Roman seems to have touched us all pretty personally.”
Chapter 35
“Dr. Duncan, I need to ask you about Allen Roman. While you treated him did he ever mention his health,” Maravel asked, finding they had time to finally talk. Ovan was on the phone with Homicide Detectives Miller and Beem. Chance was pacing the station like a caged cat.
“His health? You mean his mental health or ...?” Juanita asked.
Maravel smiled. “No. We already have that answer.”
Juanita nodded emphatically. “For sure, he’s a fuckin’ loony. God, if he hurts my son ...”
“Why would you worry about your son?” Maravel asked. “Juanita, tell me the truth. If you just say it, it will be easier for all of us to get on with this.”
Guilt ran across Juanita’s face like a ticker tape. “I’m just meaning both boys. I’m sure Junior is with Reggie and if Roman is after Reggie, then,” Juanita answered quickly before moving away from Maravel in search of Chance who had stormed out of the station as soon as a bus pulled up in front.
He was on the phone with Rita when she found him. “Has she called?” Juanita asked.
“No,” Chance answered sadly. He looked at his watch. “It’s been hours. She can’t possibly still be mad at me.”
“Maybe there’s no reception, Chance,” Juanita explained. “She should be pretty far south by now.” He looked at her. His eyes were sad and she felt her heart grow heavy. Unable to stand the look, she pulled him into a tight hug, before kissing his cheek softly.
“We’ve got Sprint ...”
“Juanita, I think we need to talk,” Ovan blurted interrupting their moment. Juanita still holding Chance spoke without looking at Ovan.
“I’m busy, Ovan,” she answered.
“I’m sure you are but I need you to tell me who Junior’s real father is.” Ovan asked, pulling her arm from around Chance’s shoulder. “Since you won’t talk to Maravel you’ll have to talk to me. Who is Reggie’s father ... and don’t tell me it’s Chance Davis,” he growled.
“Knock it off,” Chance bit, pulling Juanita from Ovan’s tight grip.
“Sorry, Chance, but we have to do what we have to do. Seems Juanita here has a couple of gaps to fill and I mean right now,” Ovan began to explain. Chance now stood wide-eyed and confused.<
br />
“What did you do?” Juanita screamed.
Before he could answer Juanita struck out at Ovan, but his reflexes were quick and he caught her flying fist. “Stop it. This lie has apparently reached its end, Juanita!” Ovan said, holding her by both forearms.
She was shaking. “I didn’t lie,” she growled.
Chance just stood there watching. “Talk, Nita!”
“Chance,” Juanita began, her face instantly drenched with tears. “Chance I didn’t know ... I don’t know ... I,” she stammered.
“I had our friends at Homicide go to both your house and Juanita’s. I tested whatever we could find from the boy’s room for DNA. We had multiple matches.”
Juanita howled like a wounded animal. “Why would you do that. You had no right to do that. They aren’t broth-ers—they can’t be brothers.”
“Are you blind? Good grief, woman, are you and everyone else blind?” Ovan blurted rudely. At that, Juanita reached out for Chance who seemed in total shock. Suddenly his brow furrowed. He stepped back from her and again pushed the button on his cell phone calling Rashawn. It was as if he had shut her down the way someone shuts down and ignores a crazy stranger on the bus.
Chapter 36
Roman laughed again, watching Chance’s number coming up on Rashawn’s cell phone. The one he’d taken from the scene, along with her wallet. Sure they would eventually find Chance through the license plate on the car, but first things first. She would have to be taken to the ER as an unidentified woman. That would surely buy him a few hours. He was the first on the scene when she swerved to avoid hitting the large truck. Her car then hit the concrete on the opposite wall at top speed, flipping the car over on its top. Other cars came to a halt, slamming on breaks, causing rear-end bumps, crunches—gridlock. He quickly pulled over and acted as caring and concerned as he could as a few dogooders pulled up behind him. “I’m a doctor,” he told them, hoping to be allowed more up close time—ordering everyone else to “get back!” Examining Rashawn for a pulse he could see she wasn’t dead; that’s when he noticed her small phone. He quickly grabbed it and tucked it in his pocket. Her purse had spilled its contents as well and so her wallet was another handy bit of identification he snagged. Soon the roar of the ambulance was heard, and the crowd pushed forward, cars slowed, and people rubbernecked, some too late or unconcerned pressed forward. During all the commotion, he slipped back into his car and left the scene, appearing to be just another rubbernecker.
Blood Relations Page 13