by Carl Weber
“What you mean, what kinda plans do I got? I’m a newly married man with a gorgeous bride at home waiting for me. I plan to make the whole damn house shake!” he joked.
Seeing him so happy and in love with Sonya really made me happy. I knew that he was going to make a great father, but still . . .
“Ewww, TMI.” I shook my head. “TMI!”
“I know you ain’t talking, with all of the information you and Paris find it necessary to volunteer. That was nothing and you know it.”
I took out my cell phone and turned it on. It had been off since the night before because of my mother, who had been calling and texting nonstop. After that stunt she pulled at the auction, I was done with her for real. You couldn’t tell me she’d didn’t do that shit on purpose. Since then, she’d been trying desperately to reach me, but I was ignoring her. She just wouldn’t let up, and it was so damn annoying. Sure enough, when the phone powered on, it alerted me that I had seventeen missed calls and just as many texts, all from the contact with the name BIRTH GIVER.
“Fuck. Leave me alone,” I said aloud as I deleted the calls and texts.
“Uh-oh, must be one of your ex-boos trying to come back. Or is it one of your stalkers whose heart you broke?” Junior teased.
“Oh, it’s a stalker all right. It’s my stalking mother,” I said with a sigh.
“Aunt Donna?”
“The one and only. She’s been blowing me up for days because she knows I’m pissed. I can’t believe her sometimes. Here’s a woman who didn’t give a shit about me and pretty much abandoned me, yet she still thinks she can tell me what the fuck to do. She’s got some nerve.”
“Yeah, Aunt Donna is pretty intense. I don’t know what it is about her, but Pop always seems to back down when she snaps off. I’ve seen her and Mom go at it a couple of times over the years, too,” Junior said, “and it was not pretty.”
“That’s ’cause Aunt Chippy is the only one who can see through her bullshit.”
“I hear you. Ma does have a bullshit detector on her nose, but I’m not gonna lie. Aunt Donna ain’t shown me nothing but love over the years. You should have seen the wedding present she got me and Sonya.”
“Take off the rose-colored glasses, Junior. She’s a bitch, plain and simple.”
He looked over at me and said gently, “That may or may not be true, but maybe you should just talk to her and get it over with. Seems to me the longer you avoid her, the longer you avoid the inevitable.”
“What?” I looked at him like he was crazy. “I don’t want to talk to her. I just want her to leave me the fuck alone.”
“Then tell her to leave you alone.”
“I have! And if my words haven’t been enough, I’ve avoided her for the past five years. That should be obvious.”
“Look, I get it. But maybe it’s time you had a heart to heart with her. Put your cards on the table. When it comes down to it, Sasha, she’s your momma, and you only get one of them. Do it the same way you would do a Band-Aid. Just rip it off and get it over with.”
I thought about what Junior said, and once I let it sink in a little, it made sense. If I didn’t handle this situation, it would go on just like this for years. I picked up my cell phone and said, “Siri, call Birth Giver.”
Junior looked at me and shook his head.
“What?” I said. “You didn’t think I’d have her in my phone as Mom, did you?”
The phone rang over and over, but there was no answer. I hit the redial button and called again. Still, she didn’t answer the phone.
“You mind if we make a pit stop?” I asked, irritated because the tables were turned and now it was her ignoring me.
“No problem. We already late as hell anyway.”
Fifteen minutes later, we pulled into my mother’s driveway and parked next to her Maserati. At least now I knew she was home. Knowing her, she had some man over, and that’s why she wasn’t answering her phone.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, opening the car door and hopping out.
I stood at the front door and rang the doorbell several times. When she didn’t answer, I started banging. I knew she would be pissed. She might have been a crappy mother, but she was the queen of decorum and proper etiquette. Not only was I at her house unannounced, but I was beating on the door like I had lost my mind. I could just imagine the disgusted look she probably had on her face as she was running down the steps to scold whoever was at her door. I waited, now excited because I was going to get the opportunity to say what I wanted to say to her face and then be done with her once and for all. Junior was right; I needed to handle this woman to woman, and if she had some dick over who would hear it too, then all the better.
I waited a few moments more, ringing and banging, before I remembered the spare key that she kept. As bourgeois as my mother was, she was still old fashioned in some areas of her life. She always left a key under the watering can sitting near the flower bed. I waved at Junior, who seemed to be quite entertained by all of this, and used the key to unlock the door.
“Hello?” I called out when I stepped inside. No one answered. “Mom, it’s me. Sasha.”
There were a couple of shopping bags laying discarded in the den. That was weird. She was usually pretty careful with her designer purchases, because as far as she was concerned, her wealth and style defined her. I called up the stairs a little louder.
Still no answer. Her and her beau must have decided to take things up to the bedroom. I rushed up the stairs, thinking it might be funny to bust in on them in the middle of the action. But the bedroom door was open, and the room was still as pristine as ever: the bed perfectly made, her dresser lined with jewelry boxes and bottles of expensive makeup and perfume. She was nowhere to be found. I searched all the other rooms upstairs to no avail.
I walked back down the steps into the den and noticed my mother’s purse on the floor in the corner. Something was wrong. My mother loved her designer bags more than she loved me. There was no way in hell she would ever allow one to touch the floor.
I grabbed my gun out of my purse and headed over to search the rest of the first floor. I stepped into the dining room, and that’s when I let out a scream loud enough for Junior to hear me outside.
At first, I was unable to make my body move. There she was, sprawled out in the middle of the floor, a pool of blood around her head and chest.
“Mom? Mommy?” I squeaked out, even though I already knew the truth: she was dead. Donna Washington-Duncan-Wilson-Ferguson, my mother, was dead. I squeezed my eyes shut and told myself to wake up, because I had to be in the middle of some horrible nightmare; but then I opened them slowly, and she was still lying motionless. She was still dead.
“Noooooooooooo!” I screamed and ran over, collapsing onto my knees and pulling her lifeless body to me. “Please, God, no. Please. I’m so sorry. Please, Mommy.” I rocked back and forth, crying so hard that I could barely breathe.
“Sasha! Sasha!” I heard Junior calling, but I couldn’t answer. Seconds later, he entered the room.
“Oh my God. No, this can’t be happening,” I heard him whisper, then I felt his arm around me. I continued to rock her in my arms as the tears poured down my face.
“She’s . . . She’s . . . ” I couldn’t bring myself to state the obvious.
“I know.” He sat with me for a few moments, and then I heard him dialing his phone.
I thought about all the missed calls and texts that I’d ignored. She had tried over and over to reach me. Did she know something was wrong? Was she calling because she needed my help? Was someone after her?
“Yeah, Vegas, it’s me. I’m over here at Aunt Donna’s with Sasha. Bro, something horrible has happened.” He paused to listen then said, “Yeah, she’s dead, and it looks like something Uncle Larry would do.”
“Mommy,” I whispered through my tears. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Mommy.”
“Yeah, I’m bringing her home right now,” Junior said softly. “Sas
ha, we have to go.”
“No, I can’t leave her. I can’t,” I wailed.
“Sasha, please. Come on, sweetheart.”
“No! You don’t understand. I know she’s a bitch, and I know no one likes her, but she’s my mom and all I had left. And now. . .”
“Sash,” Junior said, reaching for me.
I snatched away, still holding my mother’s head against my chest. “Now she’s gone. I have no one. I have no one left. My daddy’s gone, and now she is too. My family is gone.”
“Sasha, you’re not alone. You still have family. You still have me. I’m always gonna be there for you. You know that. We all are.” Junior’s voice cracked a little. “But we have to go.”
“I can’t leave her by herself. I’m all she’s got.” I looked up at him and shook my head. “I have to stay with her.”
“Sasha, you can’t stay. Vegas is on his way with a team. They will make sure she’s okay.”
“No.”
“We’ve gotta get you home and get you cleaned up. Come on.” Junior eased my arms from around my mother’s body and pulled me up off the floor to embrace me. He held me tight and let me cry on his shoulder until I had no more tears left. Then he released me and held my hands as he looked in my eyes. “It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna find who did this. I promise.”
His words sparked the fire of fury in me that I knew would be burning for a long, long time. “Stop pretending, Junior.” I turned and kneeled, leaning over to give her one final kiss. “We both know who did this. It was Uncle Larry, and when I find him, he’s going to find out that he ain’t the only crazy one in this family.”
Orlando
47
“Okay, okay, you’re right. Going there was a bad idea,” I heard London saying as she came around the corner of the motel. She stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted me leaning against my rental car. “Orlando! What are you doing here?” She ran up and hugged me.
“I hear you’re having some problems getting into Tivoli Gardens,” I told her as she released me from our embrace. From the look she gave Daryl, I guess that comment had struck a nerve. “I’m here to help.”
I turned to Daryl, giving him a pound with my fist. “What’s up, Dee?”
“Just trying to make it, O. Good to see you,” he replied. Daryl was always low key, but for some reason he seemed a little standoffish. “Right now, we could use all the help we can get.”
“Don’t worry. The cavalry has arrived,” I said confidently.
“You do know Daddy and Vegas are going to lose their minds when they find out you’re here, right?” London gave me a disapproving look, which prompted Daryl to take a step back, glancing in every direction but ours. Now I knew what the problem was: London thought that I was there to step on her toes. “We’ve got the situation well under control,” she said, full of attitude.
“Pop and Vegas know I’m here, London. They’re the ones who sent me.” I saw the disappointment on London’s face as her confident demeanor deflated. I’m sure she thought my presence was the result of her failure to find Vinnie Dash, but that was far from the truth. “And for the record, we all think you’ve done a phenomenal job,” I added to gas her up a little. London didn’t get involved in the business too often, so she deserved some credit for stepping out of her stay-at-home mom role as eagerly as she had this time.
“You do?” She perked up quickly. “I was just doing the same thing any Duncan would do.”
“Yeah, Rio told me how much of a bad-ass you were, shooting that guy in the foot and saving Daryl’s life.” Daryl couldn’t help but laugh along with me as I teased, “Who the fuck you think you are, Annie Oakley?”
“No, I like to think of myself as Pam Grier in Brown Sugar,” London joked, laughing along with us. It seemed all she needed was that little reassurance, because her insecurities were gone, just like that.
“Any word on Uncle Larry and the boys?”
I leaned back against the car and took off my sunglasses. “No, not yet. We got eyes and ears everywhere, though, so I’m sure it won’t take long. They sent me down here to help you with Vinnie and your Tivoli Gardens problem.” Of course, it went without saying that I didn’t hesitate for a second when they told me to get on a flight to Jamaica. It was what I’d wanted all along.
“Orlando, getting in there is damn near impossible,” London said. It didn’t matter to me. Nothing was going to dampen my spirits now that I was one step closer to getting my son back.
“So I’ve been told, but as Pop always says, nothing’s impossible. It just depends on how much you’re willing to give up to get it.”
“You sound awfully confident,” Daryl said.
“Time to take the fight to them, Dee. Come on. Grab your stuff and let’s go,” I said.
“Where are we going?” London asked.
“The Sheraton—unless you prefer to stay in this place.” I gave the raggedy motel the once over and chuckled. Nobody back home was going to believe that my bourgie-ass sister had even dared to stay in a place like this. I was starting to see there was more to London than any of us had given her credit for.
“Hell, no! Hot showers and decent bedding, here I come,” my sister said happily.
* * *
It was early afternoon by the time I got London and Daryl checked in. I told them to meet me in the presidential suite in half an hour, and they were actually on time.
“Come on in,” I said, opening the door then gesturing for them to follow me. We walked past a half-dozen Asian men wearing headphones and working on computers.
“What’s going on?” London asked.
“Why don’t I let our host explain that?” I waved my hand at Jun Cheng, who took off his headphones and walked over to me. “Jun, this is my sister, London, and one of our main guys, Daryl.”
“Him, I already know,” Daryl said, stepping up so the two of them could share a brotherly embrace. “Good to see you, Jun. It’s been a long time.”
“Yes, it has, my friend.” Jun politely shook London’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you,” she replied. “Now, can someone tell me what’s going on here?”
“Jun and his people have agreed to work with us on taking care of the Tivoli Gardens problem we are having,” I told London and Daryl.
“How? If we can’t get into West Kingston without being detected and we’re black, how are his people going to manage to do this?” London asked.
I shot a glance at Jun to see if he had been offended by her comment, but if anything, he seemed amused.
“My people are invisible,” Jun said with a smirk.
London rolled her eyes as if Jun had a screw loose. “Excuse me? What did you say?”
I answered for Jun. “You heard him, and he’s correct to an extent. His people are invisible, London. Maybe not literally, but figuratively.”
“Have you had the chance to enter any grocery stores while you’ve been here?” Jun asked her.
“One or two.” London shrugged. She still wasn’t getting the point.
“And did you notice anything about them?” Jun continued.
London looked at him, her face full of confusion. “They all had food in them?”
Jun laughed and said, “Yes, that is true, but they also had Asian workers—which you did not even notice.”
“Son of a bitch.” Daryl nodded his head. Clearly, he understood what Jun was getting at.
“Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?” London sounded totally frustrated, so Jun patiently explained it to her.
“All the major food stores on the island are owned and run by my people,” Jun said matter-of-factly. “Locals don’t pay attention to us. We’re like furniture to them. We’re—”
“You’re invisible! Yeah, now I get it,” London said, looking almost relieved that she now understood. I guess after being out of the loop with the business for so long, she didn’t like to feel stupid or uninformed.
; “We can get into every neighborhood in this country, including Tivoli Gardens and anywhere else that yellow Lamborghini you have been searching for goes.”
“You know the apartment building downtown that you followed Vinnie from?” I asked.
“Yeah,” London replied.
I pointed at a computer screen that was divided into four video images. “Take a look at this monitor.”
“Is this in real time?” she asked as she watched over two dozen Asian men walk in the building and then, in another quadrant of the screen, the same men storm the apartment.
“It happened about five minutes ago, right before you arrived,” Jun responded.
“Did they capture Vinnie?”
“Vinnie was not there, but his men who were, the ones that are alive, have been taken to our safe house in Saint Mary’s. Locating him will not be a problem. I assure you,” Jun said.
One of the Asian men brought over a cell phone and held it out for Jun to talk. Jun stepped away and carried on a short conversation in Chinese. When he ended the call, he said to us, “We’ve located the house in Tivoli Gardens where the yellow Lamborghini has been seen, and it has been confirmed that a white man with an island woman and child live there. My people are heading there now to take care of it. We should know something in the next ten to fifteen minutes.”
“Are you sure you want them to do this?” London asked me.
I guess I looked worried, because Jun read my expression and said to reassure me, “I’ve given them specific instructions that they are not to harm the woman or the child.” He paused for a second and then added, “Provided the woman does not become involved, of course. However, should she pose a threat . . .”
“Take her out,” I replied before he could finish. “If she gets in the way, take her fucking ass out.”