Triple Threat

by Camryn King

Christian had always done everything possible to not wind up in prison. Yet here he was, preparing to walk into the Eastern Correctional Institute to visit the uncle who’d been more like a brother for Christian’s whole life. An uncle in prison for taking a life. The whole situation felt unreal. Usually visitors met inmates in a communal visiting room. Because of Christian’s high profile, however, and a few hundred types of green encouragement, the warden made an exception and allowed Christian and Peter to visit in a private room with a guard present. Just being behind the fence made Christian uncomfortable, yet he maintained a casual conversation with the remaining guard while another brought his uncle from the cellblock.

  A few minutes later the door opened, and a handcuffed Peter walked through with the guard just behind him. Christian worked hard to mask his surprise. He’d only been behind bars a couple months, but his uncle had aged ten years. No words were exchanged as the guard removed the handcuffs and Peter walked to where Christian now stood by the chair.

  “One brief hug,” the guard who’d waited with Christian informed them.

  “I’ll be just outside this door,” the other warned, as if Christian were going to play Superman and try to bust his uncle out of a maximum-security facility.

  The two men shared a strong embrace. Both sets of eyes were damp as they sat at the round table across from where the guard stood, giving them a modicum of privacy.

  “How are you, man?” Christian finally said.

  “What can I say? This isn’t the Four Seasons.”

  “No.”

  “It’s a shithole, Christian. I need to get transferred out of here. They’re all a bunch of animals. Trying to extort me, I’m in fear of my life.”

  “Maybe you should have thought about that before.”

  “Before what? You don’t believe what happened in that crooked courtroom? I pled guilty because the lawyers forced me to, not because I am.”

  “Save it, Pete.”

  “I’m not lying. Ask Matt. Somebody got to Danny and paid him off to lie on the stand. I was looking at a very real chance of life without parole.”

  “Danny lied, huh? What about that tape? Were you lying on that? Were you lying when you told that girl you’d come up with the five million she was asking for?”

  “Her plan had been to blackmail me all along. I think it had been Danny’s idea, and the two of them were in on it together.”

  “Oh, really.”

  “Damn right. I know you have a soft spot for that criminal because of his son, but believe me when I tell you, he’s bad news.”

  Christian’s eyes were sad as he looked at his uncle. “I admired you, man. Looked up to you my whole life. Dad always had doubts about you working with me, but I defended you at every turn. Who better to work for you than family, someone who’s known you from the time you were born.”

  “I’m still that man.”

  “You’re the man in here that you were on the outside. Not the one I imagined, but the one who showed up when I wasn’t around. The one who felt the heat when Danny wanted to sell you that tape and tried to borrow money from the organization.”

  “What? I—”

  “The one who made the payment with a gold sculpture instead, only Danny didn’t believe the value you told him. Surprised I know about that, huh? They didn’t even get to present that evidence in court. Or the missing piece you gave Leigh, worth almost forty thousand. Even though she was a woman you barely knew.”

  Pete jumped to his feet. “I don’t know who you’ve been listening to, but I won’t sit here and listen to those lies come out of your mouth. Guard, I’m ready to go back to my cell.”

  Pete walked over to where the guard was. When the door was open for him to be led back to his cell, Pete did not look back.

  Christian watched him, as a single tear ran down his cheek. For the uncle he loved and the murderer he knew, it would be the only one he shed.

  * * *

  The week after Pete’s plea deal, Mallory entered the cycling class unsure of what to expect. If Zoey was upset about what had happened, it didn’t show. She acknowledged Mallory when she entered the room and conducted the class with the same mixture of cheerleader and drill sergeant that she had all the others. Her actions didn’t change until the end of the class, when she walked over and asked, “Can I buy you a drink?”

  Zoey didn’t drink alcohol, so Mallory joined her at the publicist’s favorite juice bar and at her suggestion ordered a mean green drink that Zoey swore would add years to Mallory’s life. They settled into a table by the window and for the first few moments watched the pedestrians hurrying to the rest of their lives.

  “I assume there’s a reason you wanted to buy me a drink,” Mallory said at last.

  “To offer my congrats.”

  Mallory paused, looked up. “You’re congratulating me for helping to put away your client’s manager and uncle?”

  “You didn’t put away anyone. Pete did himself in when he decided to play God and become the dispenser of life and death. You did what needed to be done, what I wanted to see happen.”

  Zoey had Mallory’s full attention. “Wait, you knew Leigh? You knew Pete killed her?”

  Zoey shook her head. “I didn’t know her, but I knew they dated. Saw them in a rather compromising position one night and asked him about it. He denied it, then downplayed it. Always bothered me that he’d make such a big deal. When she died, it bothered me even more. And then when the indictment was handed down and he lied to Christian, I knew there was more to the story. I also knew that if anyone could get to the bottom of the sordid mess and uncover the truth, it was you. The Prober’s Pen winner: Mallory Knight.”

  “You knew about me before the media blowup?”

  “I’d read your series, ‘Why They Disappear, Why They Die.’ That’s why when you first contacted me about interviewing Christian, I was suspicious and leery of your motives. I thought you suspected him of having something to do with Leigh’s death, and I didn’t believe that wasn’t true. I was ready to do whatever I had to do to protect him. At the same time, I wanted your help in finding out what was going on with Pete, who I never trusted because he was jealous of Christian. That’s why . . .”

  Zoey paused, looked at Mallory and then looked away.

  “That’s why what?”

  “That’s why I accused you of drinking the Kool-Aid and becoming another worshipper at Christian’s throne.”

  “The anonymous emails. It was you.”

  “The way fans worship Christian is almost the way he viewed his uncle. There was no way I would have been able to convince him that Pete was capable of anything close to what actually happened. But I knew that you could. I also thought that you and I were a lot alike and that if I goaded you in just the right way, you’d be like a dog with a bone and not stop until you knew the truth. I was right.”

  “I spent months trying to figure out who was behind those anonymous emails. They were different than the other mail I received. But after Rob exposed me and in turn exposed Christian, you sent a congrats. Why, since you knew he was innocent?”

  “Because I knew if they shined the spotlight on Christian, they’d see the blood on Pete’s hands.”

  “You may not drink alcohol but after everything you told me just now, I need a shot.”

  The two walked a few blocks to a small, neighborhood bar. They talked for hours, almost closed down the place, finding out that they were more alike than different, and understanding that, while it had appeared otherwise for almost three years, all along the two had been on the same team.

  37

  Mallory rushed around her apartment, performing last-minute straightening in an already immaculate living room. She stopped short of chiding herself for being nervous. It wasn’t every day her dad came for a visit. In fact, it had never happened before. Not when she lived in Omaha with her mom, stepfather, and half sister. Not even when she chose the University of Missouri at Columbia to get her journalism degree, a choice
she now admitted was made in part due to its proximity to the Gateway City and her father just one hundred and twenty-five miles away. The hidden blessing found in her St. Louis hideout just months before was the time it allowed her to spend with a man she hardly knew and bond with the half brother she’d seen only a handful of times. It was going to be hard leaving New York and her beloved Brooklyn brownstone, harder still to leave the paper where she’d made a name for herself in less than ten years. But for every door she was closing, she believed another one would open. Doors to her future and to her past. Doors to the family that, in recent years, she’d all but ignored. Family that she now knew meant much more than she’d ever realized, or admitted. Family that she wanted to know again, to love again, and to feel their love. Mallory had spent half of her life in denial during the contentious relationship that began when Jan divorced her father. The threat of an opportunity for restoration had thawed the icy relationship shared with her mother. Hopefully this visit and her relocation back to the Midwest would be the foundation for a meaningful relationship with her dad.

  The phone face lit up on a nearby table. Melvin was in a taxi and on his way. The airport was at least a thirty-minute ride this time of day. Mallory walked to the fridge to see what kinds of drinks there were to offer. Milk. Flat soda. Old wine. Lovely. She reached for the wine and soda bottles, poured them into the sink. Time for a trip to the corner grocer. Tonight’s plans were dinner and a Broadway show, but it would be good to have something to snack on in case Melvin was famished. She pulled out her debit card, slipped it into her back pocket, and reached for her sunglasses and house keys. Just as she neared the foyer, the doorbell rang.

  Dad? Maybe so. Mallory had assumed he’d texted from the airport, but they could have been in transit. A mixture of excitement and anxiety played ping-pong in her stomach as she reached the door. She put her hand on the knob and out of habit took a quick peek through the side pane before she opened the door.

  She snatched her hand from the knob as though it were on fire. Christian.

  The doorbell rang again.

  She set her jaw, squared her shoulders, and opened it. “What are you doing here?”

  “I tried to call. Left a couple messages.”

  “How’d you know where I lived?”

  “Couple phone calls. Wasn’t hard.”

  “What do you want?”

  “To talk about what happened.”

  “I don’t think you and I have anything to talk about. Besides, I was just headed out.” She stepped outside and turned to lock the door.

  “I think he did it.”

  Her hand paused with the key in the lock. Her shoulders slumped, but she didn’t turn around.

  “I think my uncle aided in your friend’s death. Or caused it.” Mallory looked back and saw the sincerity in Christian’s eyes. “I’m sorry it happened and was hoping to talk with you to try and better understand what happened, why it happened, anything at all.”

  “I’m expecting company.”

  “I understand.”

  “But I’ve got a couple minutes.” She opened the door and held it so that Christian could come inside. He followed her into the living room. She sat down and motioned for him to have a seat, too. She thought about offering him a drink, then remembered she had nothing. Probably best. This wasn’t a social call.

  “What made you finally believe it?”

  “Pete.”

  “He admitted it?”

  “More like the guilt was in what he wouldn’t say.” Christian told her about his recent prison visit and the coded conversation he and his uncle had shared. “I still don’t understand why.”

  “She was pregnant.”

  Christian visibly started. “What?”

  Mallory remained calm. “I believe the baby was his.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “You can ask Danny. He heard it all. Those pricey lawyers you paid for successfully fought to keep out the evidence. They were further aided by Leigh’s parents’ unwillingness to disturb her ‘sleep’ ”—Mallory used air quotes—“by having her body exhumed. Had we done that, I believe the evidence would have been allowed and would have provided conclusive proof that Leigh was pregnant with your uncle’s child at the same time his new wife was also preparing to have a baby.”

  Christian sat forward, put his head in his hands. “This situation is beyond fucked up.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “You don’t understand.” Christian’s jaw was set, the words spoken as though it hurt to do so. “Melissa slept her way through half the NBA before snagging Pete and turning him out. Word on the street was she never stopped screwing around. My family doubts the baby is his, but Pete is too in love to have the boy tested.”

  “Then you can’t be sure the baby isn’t his.”

  “No, but I do recognize that the older he gets, the more he looks like a dude that plays for the Hawks.”

  “Good Lord. In some ways, I guess this is as hard on you as it is on me.”

  “I can’t even tell you what acknowledging the truth has done. When I was growing up, Pete was everything to me, at times even more than my dad. He was the brother I never had, an alibi when I needed one, and my first best friend. It’s killing me to know that he’s where he belongs and that there is nothing I can do.”

  Christian placed his head in his hands once again. Mallory watched him take a couple deep breaths before his shoulders began shaking. Instinctively she walked over to him, placed a hand on one of the shaking shoulders. Christian’s arm snaked around her waist and brought her down to his knees. She didn’t resist, but sat on his legs and wrapped her arms around the broadest shoulders she’d ever felt. She squeezed and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  Two words that broke a dam. Christian bowed his head. Silent tears plopped on her exposed arm. She held him tighter, blinked back her own tears. His arms held her tighter, then slid to her shoulders. He lifted his head. She looked down. Sensuality seeped into the sadness. He lifted his head. She lowered hers.

  Ding-dong.

  The bell snapped Mallory out of a Christian-induced fog. An urgent whisper. “My dad.” She slid off his lap, straightened her clothes, and wiped her eyes. Christian stood, too, suddenly embarrassed.

  “Sorry about that. Emotions got away from me.”

  “No need to apo—”

  “Where’s your bathroom?”

  It was as though Mallory could literally see a door close. The vulnerable, feeling basketball star had been pushed back into the closet, replaced by a man fully in control.

  “Down the hall to your right.”

  The doorbell rang again. “Coming!”

  She rushed to the door and opened it. “Hi, Dad.”

  “Hello there.”

  She pulled him into an embrace. Harder than she’d intended, longer than she’d planned.

  He stepped back. “You okay?”

  “Fine. Excited!” She forced a big smile on her face and looked at the carry-on bag he held by the handle. “That all you brought?”

  “That and my horn.” He stepped back and retrieved the case leaning against the building, then passed by her and entered the home, looking around the whole time and talking nonstop.

  “New York! Whew wee! It’s been a minute since I’ve been here and, man, how it’s changed. Brooklyn looks nothing like it did in the eighties. Came close to asking the taxi driver to head straight to Harlem but then I said, naw. Came here for my baby girl. Gotta make that my first stop. Harlem will be my second, though. This is nice, Mallory Anne.”

  His enthusiasm was contagious, her smile genuine as she answered. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “You own this or just renting?”

  “Renting.”

  “I bet this place would cost a million dollars.”

  “Two, actually.”

  He whistled. “Got damn!”

  He paused at the window, looked outside, and then again around the room. “This sure is nice
, baby girl. You must be doing a grand up here. I know none of it is because of me, but . . . I’m proud of you.”

  The comment brought about an unexpected emotion that Mallory quickly dismissed as the remnants of what had happened just before Melvin arrived.

  “You came to see me just in time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m moving. I’m leaving New York.”

  “What?” A single question asked by two voices. Mallory turned to see Christian fully emerge from the hallway as her father turned as well.

  “Christian Graham? The Don’t-Give-a-Damn telegram?” He closed the distance between them in three long strides. His hand was outstretched, his smile wide. “Got damn! I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven. Man, I watch you every time you play!”

  “Christian, my dad, Melvin. He obviously already knows who you are.”

  “You’d have to be dead not to know him. This man is the best thing that happened to basketball since Jordan and Johnson ruled back in the day.”

  The accolades further secured Christian’s armor. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

  “The pleasure’s all mine. Hey, can I get a picture. Whew wee! The boys back home aren’t going to believe this!”

  Melvin whipped out his phone and snapped off a few self-ies. “Come on over here, baby girl. I want people to know this ain’t no Photoshop right here!”

  “They’ll know, Dad.”

  “Come on,” Christian said. “You should be in the shot.”

  After taking a few more pictures, Mallory tried to regain control. “All right, guys, enough with the photo op. Christian, I’m sure you have somewhere you need to be while Dad and I have a date with Broadway.”

  “Broadway?” her dad said, with a scowl.

  “What are you going to see?” Christian asked.

  “After Midnight.”

  “Ah, that’s a good one, Melvin. Great music. You’ll enjoy it.”

  “I know you play ball, man. But what do you know about music?”

  A slow smile spread across Christian’s face, much like when he’d pulled a player out of the zone to lay up an easy two. “Kansas City, 1983. ‘Melvin’s Mystique.’ I know about that.”