Austyn was prepared for this move, but she second-guessed whether she should give him the second bag of crack. The first one was the bait, but she needed the second one to catch the big fish. The sooner she got the information she needed, the less likely she would be involved in an overdose.
“There’s more where that came from,” she said, her voice trailing off. She stood her ground and waited. And it wasn’t long before the bathroom door flew open and a pair of glassy eyes stared back at her. His cheeks looked sucked in, and his dark brown skin looked ashen.
“Tell me about the woman you were with the other day.”
“What woman?”
“The one driving the Lexus?”
“Why you asking ’bout her?”
“I’m the one asking the questions, not you,” Austyn snapped. She removed the motivation from her pocket so he could see it.
“Her name is Payton, she’s my niece, and the uppity little bitch won’t give me my goddamn money,” he said, his words venomous and thick.
“What money?”
“My inheritance. You sure got a lot of questions.” He pushed past her and made his way toward the bed.
This slow-moving creature was a stark contrast to the man who walked around the grounds like he owned the damn place.
Now she could barely get him to string more than two words together at a time. Her plan to let him take a hit, then try to have a conversation had been a bad one. He took a seat on the floor and nestled his back into the corner. The room didn’t have much light, but she could see the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
“Why won’t she give you your money?”
“Because she knows I’m going to smoke it up,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Does your sister, Lois Greene, have an inheritance, too?”
Sheldon frowned. “How da fuck do you know Lois? She hasn’t lived around here for years.”
Austyn flicked the baggie again and shook her head.
“I ain’t got no sisters. She’s my sister-in-law.”
Austyn’s mind connected the genealogy dots. If Lois Greene was Sheldon’s sister-in-law, then he wasn’t related to her by blood. But she’d overheard him referring to Lois Greene as Payton’s mother. If that were the case, then she and Payton were half sisters.
“So, how is Lois related to your niece, Payton?”
“You ain’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. She’s her got-damn mama,” he said, clearly sounding frustrated. “How much longer we gon’ play twenty questions?”
Now, it was time for the real questions that would lead her to the reason she came to Pittsburg in the first place. But it really didn’t matter whether Sheldon helped her or if she had to comb every inch of this town to find Lois Greene her damn self. One way or another, she would get exactly what she came to Pittsburg for.
“Last question,” she said before placing the plastic baggie on the small circular table. The hunger in his eyes rose to the surface.
“Where is Lois Greene?”
“The judge sent her to Glover House, the drug treatment facility,” he blurted out. He stood to his feet, his agitation clearly visible.
“I need to see her.”
“She can’t have visitors for at least two weeks—”
“Do you know where Glover House is?”
“No, but I can find out.”
Austyn picked up his cell phone and began typing. “Tell you what, I’m going to save my number in your phone, and when you get me an address for Glover House, I’ve got plenty more of this just for you.” She reached into her jacket pocket, tossed an extra baggie on the table, and backed out of the room, closing the door behind her. She hoped he didn’t do anything stupid, like have a heart attack or a stroke. She kind of liked the arrogant bastard. But crack was such a nasty drug. It made people sell their souls and their children, chasing a high that would never be as good as the first time they took a hit. It was ironic that the same white crumbs that had devastated her life were now leading her down a trail right back to her mother.
Back in her room, Austyn chained the door and removed the laptop from her backpack. It booted up quickly, and after she typed in Glover House, Pittsburg, CA, she waited as the screen populated with several different links.
Austyn grinned and clicked on the first hyperlink, and within seconds the website populated the laptop screen. She clicked, then clicked again, searching each page for the physical location of the facility, but came up empty. Every link she searched listed the address as a post office box.
“Fuck!” she hissed.
It looked like she was going to be depending on the crackhead more than she thought, but she had plenty of little baggies to keep him doing whatever she needed him to do.
CHAPTER 15
Donathan parked the car alongside the curb outside the posh eatery. He made it a point to keep his finger on the pulse of the new and happening spots in the Bay Area, yet somehow he’d never heard of this restaurant before. The outward façade reeked of his mother. Exclusive and private, two things Sylver James and her upscale clientele required. His mother was known for patronizing elite establishments, and before stepping a foot inside Donathan already knew this place fit the bill.
It had been two days since Sylver had threatened him in her own way, and before she showed up on his doorstep and encountered the paparazzi, he’d instructed his receptionist to phone her back immediately and set up a face-to-face meeting at a location of her choosing.
He sat in the car a moment to gather his thoughts. There was no explanation for his behavior, and playing the victim with his mother was not going to work. In all honesty, he had crossed the line the moment he decided to walk Austyn Greene to her hotel room—a tiny detail he’d expected to be magnified by Sydney long before now. But she hadn’t pressed him on this significant issue, a fact that concerned him. With Sylver James, he wouldn’t be so lucky.
There was a closed sign on the front window, but the brown wooden door opened and Donathan was greeted by a young man who welcomed him inside, then escorted him through the establishment to a door marked private before walking away. Donathan mentally prepared himself for the barrage of questions that were coming, then stepped inside.
Before he could take a seat, Sylver was on her feet, demanding to know what the hell was going on.
“I cannot believe you have disrespected yourself in this manner, let alone me and your father. Did you know that your face has been splashed across every gossip rag in this country? God knows I taught you better than this. That woman has whore flashing like a neon sign across her forehead and for the life of me I can’t wrap my brain around why my son would be caught dead with such trash,” she said, shaking her head and flinging her hand in the air as if banishing the idea.
Donathan stared at the petite woman in front of him, the epitome of perfection. Her hair was coiffed just right, her dress was custom fit, she had the perfect shoes, and her accessories included the coveted Birkin handbag, a symbol that spoke volumes about his mother whenever she stepped into any room. Sylver turned on her heel, returned to her seat, and waited with a look of disdain on her face for Donathan to take his seat and join her.
Confrontations with his mother always conjured up feelings of failure, and today was no exception. He could see her disappointment and feelings of sorrow rising closer to the surface with every word. He had broken the cardinal rule by bringing palpable shame to the James name, and no matter what he did or said to justify his behavior, the reasoning would never be enough in the eyes of Sylver James.
His mother thrived on being the talk of the town for good reasons such as having a home in the right zip code, sending him to the appropriate schools, and being the wife of a prestigious doctor. But never for the bad or the ugly, something she’d instilled in him from day one. The truth was, he knew his mother loved him, but she didn’t love the fact that he chose a life different from the one she’d envisioned for him. Holding his mother’s gaze, Donathan took a s
eat.
“Are you done?”
“Don’t you sass me, boy.”
He reached for his mother’s hand and kissed it lightly, then gave her a thousand-watt smile.
“You look absolutely stunning today, Sylver.”
“Donathan Maurice James! How many times have I told you not to call me by my first name?” she said, unable to hide a slight grin. He winked at her and she quickly looked away. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”
“Mom, look. You know I would never do anything to bring this type of attention to you and Dad. This entire thing has taken on a life of its own, but I handled it—”
“Are you referencing the statement you gave to the local channels the other day that they’re playing on a loop along with the one from that dreadful woman who lives across the street from you? She is the exact reason I begged you and Sydney not to purchase property in El Cerrito. If you lived in a gated community none—”
“Mom, our home is behind a gate.”
“You know exactly what I mean. If you lived in a respectable community those cameras wouldn’t be able to come anywhere near your home. And what does Sydney think about all of this? I’m surprised the girl hasn’t gone running scared...” his mother said, her voice trailing off.
Donathan sighed heavily, ruminating on her last words. When things got uncomfortable his wife did have a propensity to run, and the last time she had run straight into the arms of another man.
“You need help framing your story and creating a clear message for your brand. Is that torrid radio show you work for helping with damage control? Well, obviously not. You need a PR professional,” she said, reaching for her purse, which had a personal seat at the table. “I have a referral for—”
“Mom, who cares what people think? I’m not one of your clients,” he snapped, growing agitated by the truths Sylver spoke. He didn’t want to admit that everything his mother said was true. He hated the fact that the conversation had been commandeered by the reality of outward appearances—something he’d grown to despise—but he couldn’t keep running from the inevitable.
“First of all, you need to watch your tone. Second, I know exactly who you are,” she spat back. “I went through forty-eight hours of labor before giving birth to you. You are my child and I can see that you’re hurting. So why on earth would you not think that I only want what’s best for you?”
Donathan looked away. Everything his mother was saying was spot on. He was a local celebrity “brand” and between the things that happened with Austyn Greene and that damn altercation at Lois the Pie Queen his “brand” did need a little resuscitation.
“Well, at least we both agree on the fact that my brand has some serious issues right now and this is the exact reason why I told Sydney we should not attend the gala to honor Dad. The last thing I want to do is bring this ugliness to something he’s worked so hard for—”
“That’s absolute nonsense. Your father would be devastated if his only child were not present to celebrate him.”
Donathan had spoken to his father briefly and as usual he had been so optimistic, telling Donathan life lessons were hard, but this too shall pass. He looked at his mother and committed this instance to memory. It was a rare occasion that both Sylver and Sydney agreed on anything.
“Here,” his mother said, softening her tone and handing him a business card. “Rebecca is brilliant, trustworthy, and a very good friend. I’ve briefed her on the situation, and she’s expecting your call.”
CHAPTER 16
Avoiding a few bicyclists, Sydney James maneuvered her Range Rover up the winding road toward Tilden Regional Park. She stopped at the clearing to marvel at the breathtaking views of the San Francisco Bay and the infamous Golden Gate Bridge.
She had taken this drive many times before, and every time it was like witnessing this sweeping beauty for the first time. She took a deep breath.
Sydney sighed, and then second-guessed her decision to do a group run with Black Girls Run this morning. She really wasn’t in the mood for idle chitchat. What she needed was a long solo run so her mind could problem-solve and put her life in order. But she’d made the commitment, so she reached for her door handle, got back into her truck, and continued toward the merry-go-round meeting point.
The deeper she drove into the park, the thicker the fog became, which heightened Sydney’s anxiety. She had never been to this part of the park before, and after driving around for about fifteen minutes, she found herself on a one-way service road and decided she was headed in the wrong direction.
When she turned around, she came upon a brown building and turned into the parking lot. There were no other vehicles in the lot, so she drove parallel with the building, craning her neck for any sign of life before she decided to park and get out. She noticed a kiosk a few feet up the road, and she began a brisk jog in that direction.
After running a few yards, Sydney heard a crackling noise and paused, unsure where it was coming from. For the first time, the seriousness of her situation paralyzed her. What the hell was she thinking wandering around this deserted park alone this time of the morning? This wasn’t safe. By the time she reached the stand, she was in her head, psyching herself up. Her eyes darted around the Plexiglas, trying to make sense of the map in front of her, but now her nerves were in overdrive. She kept reminding herself that she was overreacting, and the sounds she heard had nothing to do with some animal—or with Austyn Greene.
“Are you lost?” a woman’s voice said.
Sydney’s breath caught in her chest, and her hands balled into fists at her side. Heart racing, she pivoted to face the voice coming from behind her. When Sydney made eye contact with the raven-haired woman, her body relaxed.
The woman was wearing running shoes, tights, and a Cal Berkeley sweatshirt.
“Are you lost?” the woman asked again.
“I’m afraid so. I was meeting my running group at the merry-go-round, and I somehow got turned around.”
“The carousel is located on the other side of the park. You have to go in on the Orinda side.”
“Can I get there from here?”
“Well, actually the quickest way is to go back out of the park, get on Highway Twenty-Four, and take the Orinda exit.”
“Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, and then ran off in the direction of the one-way service road.
Locked inside the confines of her car, Sydney breathed normally again. Calming herself, she drew in and released several long breaths. She picked up her iPhone from the passenger seat to call the run leader, but there was no service.
“Damn,” she mumbled.
She’d had enough of this craziness, but her mind was wound up pretty tight and running helped her think. These days she had no idea what she’d get from Donathan. One minute he was fine, and the next they were having outrageous arguments about nothing. After his blowup at dinner, he flat-out told her that he could never accept another man pleasuring his woman. With the help of a therapist, she had contemplated telling him about her indiscretion with Miles, but there was no way she could do that now. Then and there, Sydney made a decision: Shrink or no shrink, she had way too much to lose if Donathan ever found out about her and Miles. He would never be able to forgive her.
CHAPTER 17
Not sure exactly what it was that he was looking for, Donathan circled the property until he noticed the yellow crime scene tape covering one of the doors, then parked his car. He’d promised Sydney that he would let the police do their job, yet here he was parked outside the Motel 6 in Pleasanton. He surveyed the outdoor walkways leading to the rooms, trying to imagine the route the killer had taken. No word from Holsey again, but he also believed this situation had Austyn Greene written all over it.
He noticed two balding white men exiting the double doors. Their cheap suits and protruding guts screamed police who spent way too much time sitting at a desk instead of fighting crime. He’d done some researc
h and learned that Pleasanton hadn’t had a homicide in over five years, which meant these guys were just a little bit rusty, to say the least.
A news truck with KTVU Channel 2 plastered on its side turned into the parking lot and caught his attention.
“Shit,” he mumbled, slipping his shades on and scooting down in his seat. His windows were tinted, but the last thing he needed was to be seen here by a reporter. When he became a regular on the KBLX morning radio show, he became an instant media darling. His face was plastered on billboards, bus stops, and all over the radio station’s social media pages. To the chagrin of his mother, the “Sex Doctor” was everywhere. His rise to fame had been on his terms, and it was great. But as soon as those pictures of him kissing Austyn hit the web, he became a condemned man.
It was like the media wanted him to fail, and no matter what he said, they continued printing that filth because filth sells. It had only been a few days since he’d had the impromptu press conference outside his house that had gotten the vultures off his back, but if they caught him here at this murder scene, they would be back to making his life impossible. And if they did that, his mother would absolutely kill him.
Sydney had finally talked him into attending the recognition dinner for his father, even though he still had his concerns. His father, Dr. Maurice James, worked hard and deserved any award being presented to him. The last thing Donathan wanted to do was to mess it up for him.
He sank down deeper into the plush leather seat, and the passenger car door jerked open. Donathan’s back straightened to an upright position.
“What the hell—?”
Before he could get out another word, Payton slid into the passenger seat and closed the door behind her.
“Are you following me?” he accused.
“What?”
“Did Sydney put you up to this?”
“Sydney? Donathan, you are seriously tripping.”
“Then who?”
Donathan flashed Payton a look that said, You better start talking.
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