Black Diamond

by Ja'Nese Dixon

  “Camille, I need you to listen to me, and listen good.” He slid closer to her and she watched him transform before her eyes. Gone was the humorous smile and laid back charm; in its place was a hardened edge that caused her to jerk away from him.

  Talib placed his hand on the opposite side of her body, preventing her from sliding across the bed.

  “What did you do with Ashanta?” she asked, ignoring his threat.

  He laughed and she flinched as he tossed back his head. Talib stood and faced her with his shoulders squared and arms crossed. “Precious, you are not in a position to demand answers, but if you behave you will be allowed to walk away from tonight unharmed.”

  “Are you planning to do to me what you did to her?” She continued. Ashanta's warnings rang in her head.

  “What do you know about my money?” He asked with a scowl on his usually handsome face.

  “What money?”

  “Don't play stupid. I know you know something and I'm not into playing games. Tell me and you can go on with your night.”

  Camille returned his spine-chilling glare and inwardly prayed that Marc or Derek were aware of her disappearance. She needed to disarm him and get to her gun. She decided to play sweet.

  “So tonight was a lie?” She softened her voice and watched him adjust his stance.

  “Camille, answer the question. What did Ashanta tell you?”

  “Nothing...I saw a picture of you at her graduation. You must be friends.” She watched the veil behind his eyes fall, but instantly return.

  “We're acquaintances.”

  “Did you kill her?”

  * * *

  Camille eyes began to fill with tears and Talib fought to hold his composure. He felt his heart breaking as her eyes bore into him.

  “Since you don't want to talk, I'll help you.”

  He called for Saul. “Tie her up.”

  Talib did not trust himself to move closer to her. He would have Saul tie her up and administer the serum. He didn't want to harm her, but he had a flight to catch.

  Saul stood in the doorway and stared at him as if he had two heads. He walked towards the bed and picked up the rope Talib tossed his way. Camille used the heels of her feet to scurry across the bed, but Talib moved to block her escape.

  “Don't do this,” she said, not taking her eyes off either of them.

  “Talk,” Talib ordered.

  “I swear I don't know anything about your money. I saw some picture and that's it. I promise.”

  He didn't believe her. He felt his anger boiling to the surface. He drew back and slapped Camille across the face. The shock on her face ended his hopes of everything working between them. He had a job to do.

  She held her cheek as tears welled in her eyes, “You'll regret that, you bastard.”

  His response was cut off by the sound of the front door being kicked in. “Camille, are you in here?”

  They all looked toward the doorway. Talib yanked Camille before she could move off the bed toward the voice in the living room. She kicked and fought as he wrapped his arm around her neck and pointed the gun into her back.

  “Don't make me do it, because I will.” He clamped his hand over her mouth, stifling her response. He could smell the sweetness of her perfume and feel her body shaking beneath him. He had three hours before he was scheduled to board a plane for home and he refused to leave without his money.

  * * *

  Marc scanned the living room. It was quiet and still. He called to her again as he motioned with his head for Derek to check the kitchen. Derek nodded and moved toward the kitchen with quick, soundless movements. Marc kept Derek in his sight as they checked the front area. Neither found Camille.

  They stood facing down a long hall leading to the back of the apartment. Derek mouthed that he'd cover him. Marc knew he was taking a chance, but he didn't want to risk Derek getting to Camille first. Nodding, they dashed across the living room, backs against the wall and Marc called down the hall to Camille again.

  “Camille, baby, are you back there?” He glanced toward the back bedroom and motioned for Derek to take the other side of the entrance.

  Derek took his place as Marc let his gun precede him down the hallway. He could see the backroom light on. He prayed she was unharmed. He reached the doorway and saw Talib standing with his gun pointed at Camille's head. He kept his eyes fixed on him, but couldn't help but notice the tears in her eyes.

  “FREEZE. Drop your gun and let her go.” Marc entered the room.

  Talib's laughter filled the room as Marc heard the release of a gunshot. Pain coursed through his body as he clutched his shoulder.

  Marc fell to his knees and looked over his shoulder as the smell of gunpowder filled the air. Derek had shot him in the back! He turned to Camille as she fought with Talib, trying to reach him. Her arms and legs were flailing when his eyes fell shut.

  Chapter 28

  Camille was tied to a wooden chair. Her hands were secured with a rope behind her back. Marc lie on the floor in a puddle of blood. Talib shot her with a syringe and she smelled an awful stench, like onions. He lowered into a chair in front of her and glared into her eyes.

  “How do you feel?”

  She did not want to respond, “Fine, considering...” came without thought. She turned from him and kept her eyes on Marc. He'd stopped moving and she could see his breathing getting slower…and slower. She searched Talib's eyes for a trace of the man she shared the entire night with, but she found his eyes void and cold.

  “Are you a police officer?”

  “No.” She thought she saw relief in his face.

  “Do you know where my money is?”

  “No.” She tried to stop the answers from coming, but she felt the need to comply.

  “Do you know who I am?” He stood and started pacing in front of her.

  She noticed Saul on the far wall, listening. Then she saw...wait what was he doing here?

  “DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?”

  She jumped and answered, “No, not really, but I have an idea. You're an acquaintance of Ashanta's. She met you as a child and she believes you're responsible for the death of her mother. You run an international corporation that has a scholarship program, which is responsible for Ashanta getting a job with IJDC.”

  “Who are you?

  “Camille Blackwell.”

  “Blackwell?” Talib stopped pacing. “Camille Blackwell, what do you do for a living?”

  “I'm an undercover agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigations.”

  She could feel the life suck out of the room. All three men stared at her. Talib turned his gun on Saul, “Do you have anything to do with this?”

  Saul threw up his hands, in surrender, “No! If I did, why would I assist in giving her the truth serum? I have as much to lose as you.”

  “And what about you?” He turned his gun on Derek resting against the wall.

  She too wanted to know what he was doing in Ashanta's apartment and why he'd shot Marc, his contact, in the back.

  Talib's face twisted as he looked over his brow. “Actually, let's ask Camille, since she's being so forthcoming.”

  He held his stance and addressed his next question to her. She could see the sweat rolling down Derek’s face.

  “Camille, dear…do you know D?” He lazily turned the gun in D’s direction.

  “Yes, he's my boss. We work together for the FBI. But for the life of me I don't understand why Derek shot Marc. That is no way to treat a friend.” Camille said looking at him through tear filled eyes.

  Talib looked at Marc on the floor and back at Derek. “A friend, huh?”

  As if in slow motion, she watched as he squeezed the trigger causing Derek to topple to the floor. Camille screamed, caught off guard by the shooting. She heard someone fire another round. She scanned the room trying to determine who executed the last shot.

  Saul stood in shock while Derek remained on floor clenching his leg. She could see bloodstained expand
ing his right thigh. He was losing a lot of blood.

  Camille turned to check on Marc when she watched Talib collapse to the floor. The last shot went his chest.

  “Cam! Are you okay?”

  Chapter 29

  Marc’s eyes fluttered open. He felt like they weighed a ton. He looked around the room. What he found at his side caused him to pause. Camille was asleep on the side of his bed. Her head lie next to his thigh and she was using her crossed arms as a pillow. Her delicate hand held his. He realized his hand was clinched in a tight fist. Her wild ringlets were free and he reached out to touch them. His attempt fell short when a sharp pain caused him to groan.

  She woke and sat up alert. Camille stopped directly at his face and a soft smile touched her full lips. He could see the tears pooling in her eyes and he wanted to touch her. Cautioned because of the pain he had just experienced, he opened his mouth to ask her to move closer.

  His throat was so dry, it caused his request to sound like he had a frog stuck in his throat. She moved toward the nightstand, poured him a cup of water, and held it to his mouth. He reached for the cup, but the pain assaulted his body again.

  “Will you please stop trying to move? I got it,” she said in a quiet voice.

  He nodded, although he did not know how much he liked being unable to drink water without assistance.

  She held the back of his neck and brought him closer to her hand holding the cup of water. He could see the moisture gathered on the outside of the cup, but the increase of her breathing that caused him to look into her eyes. It was then that he realized the sensual gesture that was about to take place. Maybe being dependent wouldn’t be so bad…

  She held the cup to his lips and he heard the sharp intake of her breath when his lips connected with the cup. Mark allowed the water to slide down his throat. He felt as if he hadn’t had water in years. Camille pulled the cup back and he took several breaths. He tried to talk again. It was then that he noticed the IV attached to his arm. He quickly scanned the room and knew he was in a hospital.

  “You’ve been here at St. Josephs for almost a week.” Camille said, reading his mind.

  “A week?” A frown settled between his eyes. He looked around the room. They were alone. Marc inhaled the sterile smell of the room and lifted his arm, examining the IV. The hum of the machines attached to his body measuring his heart rate broke their silence with small steady beeps.

  Camille nodded while letting Marc take in his surroundings. She reached for the remote attached to his bed and pushed the red button with the nurse image. A reply came and she notified the attending nurse that Marc was awake. Within seconds, a nurse and doctor entered the room. She stood to move away, but he grabbed her hand. They shared a look. He wanted her near him. He could not remember how he got here and he did not want her to leave. She was the only familiar thing in the room.

  Camille stood to the side, giving the professionals room, but she did not release his hand. He could see the worried strain in her eyes. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. His gesture, meant to reassure her, caused a trail of tears to run down Camille’s face. Watching her cry, created an ache in his chest that had nothing to do with the physical pain his body was enduring.

  “Mr. Fulton, I’m Dr. Eric Collins, I need you to look at the light.” He shined a light in both of Marc’s eyes. “Do you know where you are?” The doctor asked.

  “Yes, I’m in St. Joseph’s Hospital.” He recalled Camille’s earlier statement.

  “What is your full name?” He continued, lifting Marc’s shirt and placing the stethoscope on his chest, directly over his heart.

  “Marc Fulton.” Marc felt the warmth from Camille’s hands tightly holding his right hand. He could feel her slight tremble. He squeezed her hand trying to reassure her that he was fine and everything would be all right.

  Dr. Collins nodded. He then asked Marc a series of questions. Who was he? Where was his born? His parents name. Satisfied with Marc’s answers, he smiled at Camille while placing his pen in his white jacket pocket. He then passed the manila file to the nurse standing several feet away. She exited the room as he pulled a chair close to Marc’s bedside, and gestured for Camille to take a seat as well.

  “Marc, do you know why you’re here?” That was the question of the hour. Marc searched his mind trying to remember. He recalled entering the apartment and seeing Camille held at gunpoint and he remembered being shot in the back by Derek.

  As Marc talked with the doctor, he could still feel Camille’s hand shaking. She bent and placed a soft kiss on his forearm. He paused, wishing they were alone.

  The doctor assured them that he would fully recover and left them alone. Camille took her seat. “What happened?” His flashes of memory did not quite add up.

  She shrugged, “I'll explain it all to you later. Get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up.”

  * * *

  Camille held Marc's hand as he drifted back to sleep. Watching him fight for his life had made hers a living nightmare. Derek had been arrested and charged with treason. It seemed Derek, who was playing both sides, sideswiped the money Talib was searching for. He'd met Ashanta by chance and used information she shared to forge a relationship with Saul. Saul didn't know he was an agent, but used it as an opportunity to get back at his father. He was now facing murder charges for the death of Harold.

  Saul signed a plea bargain in exchange for his testimony against Derek; however, he still awaited trial for his involvement with trafficking conflict diamonds. Apparently, he imported diamonds mined by the Imperial Dynasty and mingled them with their legitimate diamond supply.

  Talib sustained critical injuries due to the shot he received from Ashanta. He was hospitalized and a few days later, he went missing. Camille knew the authorities would look for him, but they didn't have enough solid evidence to hold him. She turned over her information to the bureau and they planned to coordinate with the agency and seek international charges against the Imperial Dynasty.

  Camille started the case to find diamonds, but what they found instead was greedy people fighting for money. Saul, Derek, and Talib all sought financial gain through ill-gotten means at the expense of precious lives.

  Epilogue

  Camille lounged on the beach in a colorful one-piece bathing suit watching Marc make sandcastles with their daughter. The past few years had been a roller coaster, but they had weathered the storm of building a relationship and now a family.

  “Mommy, mommy...look...”

  She sat up and looked at Ashanta, her little angel and dusted the sand from her face. “You did a great job, sweetie.” Camille kissed her on her chubby cheek, giving her a tickle before watching her run back to Marc. “Babe, it’s time to start packing up.”

  Marc nodded and began chasing Ashanta along the shore. Camille could hear her giggling as she sat up in the beach chair, putting on oversized shades.

  After witnessing Derek’s trial and saying goodbye to Ashanta, they moved to Virginia where Marc taught at the academy. She left the bureau after learning that she and Marc were expecting a baby.

  Camille stood and began packing up their things. She folded their blanket as Marc ran up and planted a kiss on her mouth. “Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  He ran back to gather their daughter as she walked toward the car. Camille stopped and surveyed the beach, noticing a figure in the distance watching her. Startled, she dropped their beach bag. She hurriedly picked up the items and glanced over at Marc who was occupied with Ashanta. She turned back and the figure was gone.

  She searched the beach for him, but he had disappeared. What was Talib doing in Virginia?

  Intoxicated

  Coming Spring 2010. Read a sneak peak from

  Intoxicated by Ja’Nese Dixon.

  “How would you like to feel my tongue run up your spine, babe?” The lyrics cut through the crowd like a knife.

  Beneath the stage, Marques paused to take in th
e deafening screams. He knelt in position waiting to begin his finale as women of all ages jumped up and down in anticipation. Signs were floating in the air, waving erratically, uncontrollably. Cell phones glowed in the dark atrium as concert goers captured the concert to post online.

  The For Ladies Only Tour had been a commercial success and it was all because of them.

  Marques began to slowly ascend from below the stage into a nearly pitch black arena. He appeared to levitate as one white house light came to life directly overhead.