Roland sighed, as if disappointed that no violence had occurred, and erased the space to the front door in a few strides. “Nice meeting you.”
Kadir kept his mouth zipped.
“Cheer up.” Bell grinned. “I’ll make it so that you’d never notice me.” He thumped Kadir on the chest. The paper bag crinkled. “Whatcha got there?”
“Lunch,” Kadir lied with a straight face.
The men stared at each other.
“Well. Bon appetit.” Bell gave Kadir a two-finger salute and waltzed out of the apartment.
Kadir slammed and locked the door before removing the gun from his jacket. When will I fucking ever learn?
14
“Where the fuck are you?” Abrianna blasted into Moses’s voice mail. “And where in fuck do you get off stealing my money? This is not how the fuck this shit is going down. You got me all the way fucked up if you think that . . . THE FUCK?” Abrianna slammed on her brakes when an asshole came out from nowhere and braked.
“Watch where the fuck you’re going!” Abrianna threw up her middle finger. “Learn how to fucking drive!”
The driver whipped off his shades and laid on his horn.
She ignored him and kept her finger up while she completed her turn out of the bank’s parking lot.
Abrianna’s attention returned to the cell phone tucked under her ear, but the call had disconnected. “Shit.” Her acrylic nail stabbed in Moses’s number again, but this time she received a fast busy signal. “This muthafucka here.” She tossed the cell over into the passenger-side seat and gripped the steering wheel at ten and two. She needed to slow down and clear her head.
Mr. Bad Driver pulled up next to her at a red light and shook his head.
“Fuck you,” she mumbled and then jumped when her cell phone rang.
The car’s Bluetooth speakers kicked in and the speaker’s feminine robotic voice announced, “Call from Alexei. Say answer or ignore.”
Abrianna rolled her eyes and debated briefly whether to take her boss’s call. “Answer,” she huffed. “Hello.”
“Bree, where in fuck are you? You begged me to schedule you for a double today. Did you forget that shit?”
“Yo, Alexei. Sorry. Can’t do it today. Something has come up. I got some shit I gotta take care.”
“Fuck that,” he shouted, his Russian accent thickening. “I’m running a business. You handle your bullshit on your own time. Get in here, Bree. I joke not. I—”
“All right. I’ll see you tonight.” She disconnected the call. Minutes later, she swung onto the street corners Moses and his boys held on lock, but couldn’t catch hide or tail of them anywhere. But she crept her car through every spot that she could think of, hunting for him. Finally, she picked up her cell phone and called Tivonte—who, by day, was Tyrone and worked as a sous chef at Plume.
“Pick up. Pick up,” Abrianna begged over the ringing line.
“Hello.”
“Oh, thank God. Tivonte, where does Moses’s new girl stay? I know you know.”
“Well, good afternoon to you, too, Ms. Girl. I’m doing good. Thanks for asking.”
Abrianna caught her breath. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Hello, Tivonte. How are you?”
“If you wanna know the truth, I’m still dealing with a hangover from that bomb-ass birthday party you had last night. Did you have fun?”
“Yea. I enjoyed myself immensely. Thank you.”
“Enough so that you wanted to kill your damn self,” Tivonte charged.
Abrianna sighed. “Shawn told you.”
“You’re damn right he told me. You damn near gave him a heart attack.”
“I’m sorry. I’m fine. It won’t happen again.”
“Uh-huh. Now what’s this I hear about you leaving town?”
“Damn. You already know about that, too?”
“Oh. We stay all up in your business, girlfriend. You’re the only one of us who got any.”
They laughed.
“Now,” Tivonte said. “What can I do for you?”
“Moses. Where the hell can I find him? I know that he’s walled up with some trick. Just point me to where.”
Tivonte sighed. “Well, I heard through the grapevine the other day that he’s been laying the pipe to Simone Fredds. You know that lopsided-titties heifer who dances down at the Pearls? She stays off one of those townhouses off Volta Place.”
“All right, thanks. I owe you one,” Abrianna said.
“You owe me several, but who’s counting? Now you make sure that you see me before you blow this joint. I’ll never forgive you if you don’t.”
“All right. Deal.”
Abrianna disconnected the phone and sped her way to Volta but found herself caught up in rush-hour traffic. She damn near crawled out of her skin sitting through the bumper-to-bumper madness. When she arrived on Volta, she immediately spotted Moses’s piece-of-shit Durango. The only space available on the whole street was right behind his vehicle. Abrianna whipped her Honda in and jumped out of the car in one fluid motion.
“Stay calm. Don’t lose your shit,” she coached herself as she bounded up the stairs.
“Moses! I know you’re in there!”
She rapped on the door again—harder. “Open this goddamn door and give me back my money!”
Another pound and the door flew open. Abrianna stormed inside.
“What the hell did you do to my door?” Simone screamed as she backpedaled away.
“Where is he?” Abrianna thundered.
“He’s not here,” she screeched.
“You’re a goddamn liar.” Abrianna shoved her aside.
“Moses! Where the hell are you?!”
“I told you that he’s not here,” Simone lied, clutching her peach robe closed.
Abrianna cocked her head. “Not dressed in the middle of the day?” She looked up and knew exactly where Moses was hiding.
“No. No.” Simone blocked her path to the staircase.
Abrianna sent her headfirst into a wall and then charged up the staircase.
“You crazy bitch,” Simone yelled.
Abrianna burst through the first door on the second level. Moses was in the middle of climbing his naked ass out of the bed. His right arm was in a sling. “Asshole! Where in the hell is my money?”
“Bree! Bree! Calm down.” He approached with his good arm out in an attempt to ward her off.
“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down. Give me back my shit!”
“I was trying to. That was what the dope was for. I was going to flip it and put the money back. I swear.”
“You stole my money!”
“Borrowed. I borrowed it,” he corrected—with a straight face.
“Borrowed, my ass!” She shoved him back a few steps.
“I was going to pay you back.”
“Liar!” Another shove and he went straight into the wall, knocking shit to the floor. “There was more than eighty thousand dollars in there. Where is the rest?”
He pressed his busted lips together and she knew.
“It’s all gone?”
“Look. I had some debt I had to clean up. I was going to pay you back.”
“Stop saying that shit. Thieves don’t pay people back! And when they’re caught, they do time or get fucked up.”
“What about my shit?” he challenged. “Where the fuck are my bricks?”
“At this point, I don’t even know if there ever were any damn bricks. I never saw them.”
“Yeah. Right.”
Abrianna grew angrier the more she thought about it. “You robbed Zeke and me. You knew that I didn’t have any money when Zeke gave us the seventy-two-hour deadline and you didn’t say shit. Now my name is on that debt.”
“Who the fuck are you kidding?” Moses asked, changing up. “You weren’t about to go and pay that shit. Your ass was about to run, and you damn well know it.”
“So? It was my fucking money! I can do whatever the hell I feel like with it!�
�
“Well . . . it’s gone. All of it. I—”
“You son of a bitch!” Abrianna sprung forward and whooped his ass.
15
Ray’s Sports Bar off Fourteenth Street was a dimly lit place with a traditional bar feel. Not everyone knew each other’s name, but to former lieutenant Castillo, it still felt like home. She liked washing her troubles away with a few brewskies at the end of the day. Today was particularly troubling, since she’d read about Shalisa Young’s plunge off the roof of St. Elizabeths. Castillo had been shocked when the girl was arrested for murdering her mother—and shocked when she was found not competent to stand trial. Now she was gone. Maybe she’d never left Dr. Craig Avery’s basement.
When Tomi Lehane breezed through the door, Castillo smiled and waved her over. “Glad that you could make it.”
“Whew! I almost didn’t,” Tomi exclaimed, removing her jacket.
Castillo signaled for the bartender. “What’ll you have?”
“A beer is fine.” She settled into the booth and looked around the place. “Interesting place.”
“Yeah. I like it.” Castillo glanced around her second home and pushed up a smile when the waitress arrived. “Two beers and new bowl of peanuts, if you don’t mind.”
“You got it, Gigi.”
Tomi’s brows lifted. “Gigi?”
“One has no control over nicknames.”
Smiling, Tomi glanced over Castillo’s shoulder.
Castillo turned to see Tomi’s attention was drawn to one of the flat-screens tuned in to CNN. The newly elected speaker of the House, Kenneth Reynolds, accepted the gravel from the retiring speaker, Miles Hartman, and then addressed the assembled representatives on the House floor.
“Thank you.” Deep breath. “I never thought that I’d be speaker. You have done me a great honor. Before I begin, I want to thank my family and friends who flew in from Illinois to be here today: in the gallery, my mom, Joan. My brother, Lawrence, and my sister, Shannon. I want to recognize my wife, Valerie, and our four kids . . .”
“Whelp.” Tomi pulled her gaze from the screen. “The smug son of a bitch did it. He pulled it off.”
“I take it you don’t care for the man?”
Tomi laughed. “I don’t know him—but no. There’s just something about him.”
“Is that the reason you want me to dig around in his background? Are you working a story angle?”
“I’m covering a congressional investigation that he’s chairing, but that was before this whole hoopla of him being drafted to the speakership. Now add in his boast that he could impeach the president, and I’d say that Speaker Reynolds is going to be in my headlines for a while.”
“Are you looking for something in particular?”
“I’m looking for everything. On paper, he’s the last Boy Scout and I don’t buy it.”
“Who doesn’t like a Boy Scout?”
“What can I say? I’m a cynic.”
“Not jaded?”
“Call it a mixed bag.” She smiled. “So how are you?”
“Good. I could complain—but why bother?”
“I hear you.”
Castillo assessed Tomi again. She really had blossomed into a beautiful woman, but Castillo knew that there were still scars just below the surface. Tomi’s jet-black hair reached the center of her back. And her large doe eyes made it clear that she never missed a single thing. She was beautiful without trying. Castillo liked that about her.
Despite Tomi’s easy smile, Castillo was certain that Avery had also left his mark on her. And what about Bree?
Their beers arrived and Castillo quickly took a deep swig. There hadn’t been a day since Bree—or rather Abrianna Parker, as Castillo had later found out when Bree’s parents came looking for her—disappeared out of that hospital that Castillo hadn’t thought about her, wondered where she was and how she was doing. And sometimes wondered whether she was still alive.
“So what do you say?” Tomi asked. “Do you think you can help me out and see what you can dig up?”
“Really got a feeling about this one, huh?”
“A pretty strong one,” Tomi said, drinking.
Castillo looked back at the screen. Speaker Reynolds was still rambling. She stared while his words fell on deaf ears. The veneered smile was politician perfect, but there was an . . . oiliness that seeped into the man’s delivery. Castillo spotted all the deliberate, well-rehearsed stagecraft in his performance. “The thing is, I already know that Reynolds isn’t what he appears to be,” she admitted.
Tomi perked. “Oh?”
“Years ago, I’m not sure how many, I had a situation with Reynolds and his wife. Apparently, Mr. Reynolds had a problem keeping his hands to himself. His record is clean because his wife refused to press charges and Reynolds had the political pull to make my incident report disappear before I’d finished typing it up. The shit was pretty bad. I remember thinking that he had gone at his wife, who was barely five-two and one hundred pounds, like they were two dudes in a prison yard. She was a sobbing mess and he was a self-confident, arrogant prick. I’m actually looking forward to digging around his closet.”
“So you’ll do it?”
“Of course. You know I’d do anything I can to help you.”
“Great! Just invoice me your expenditures. And turn over every rock you can find. There’s something there. I know it.” Tomi beamed. “I knew that I could count on you.” She tapped their bottlenecks together and they guzzled down their drinks. For the next hour, they caught each other up on what was going on in their lives.
“Oh. Chief Holder wanted me to tell you hi.” Tomi grinned.
Castillo dropped her gaze. “Oh?”
Tomi cocked her head, smiling. “Are you two still acting like you don’t have the hots for each other?”
“It’s not an act. There’s nothing between us.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Waitress,” Castillo called. “Another round.”
Tomi laughed. “All right. I can take a hint. But actually, I have to go.” She climbed out of the booth.
“What? You’re going?”
“Deadline. Sorry. We’ll play catch up next time. I promise.” She pulled her jacket back on.
Castillo reluctantly climbed out of the booth as well.
As they leaned in for a hug, Tomi knocked over her beer bottle.
“No!”
The bottle stopped and Tomi quickly grabbed it.
Castillo froze. The whole thing happened so fast that Castillo wondered if her eyes were playing tricks on her. “What the fuck did I just see?”
“Huh?” Tomi’s face darkened. “Oh. Nothing. That was close, huh?” She fidgeted. “Well, I better get going.” She turned, but before she could take a step, Castillo’s hand locked on her arm.
“Oh no you don’t,” she said, eyes bugged. “Tell me I’m not crazy. Did that bottle just stop in midair?”
“What?” Tomi laughed, but sounded like a broken tailpipe. “No. That’s crazy.”
“Sit down,” Castillo ordered and shoved Tomi back into the booth. However, when Castillo returned to her seat, she could only stare at the girl across from her.
Tomi caved, but started the conversation in a lower voice. “All right. You’re freaked out.”
“That’s one emotion,” Castillo said cautiously.
“Well, don’t be. I mean . . . well . . . I freaked out the first time I did something like that, too. But . . . it’s really no big deal.”
“No big deal?”
“What I mean is . . .” Tomi struggled for the right words. “I don’t want it turned into a big deal. I don’t want to wind up in a hospital where they poke and prod me like a lab rat. I don’t know how I can do these things. I just . . . can. But not all the time. I have to really be focused on something. But definitely at heightened states.”
“Heightened states?”
“Yeah, like when I’m angry, frightened, and now appare
ntly startled.”
“You can stop objects from falling? What else can you do?”
“I can move things, but not large things.”
“Like what?”
Tomi huffed. “Oh, I don’t know.” She looked around and then focused on her beer bottle again.
Castillo followed her gaze. When the bottle moved toward her, she fell back against the booth, stunned.
Tomi stopped it. “See? Just small things like that.”
Castillo’s gaze swung between Tomi and the beer bottle. “But how?”
“I don’t know how. I just . . . can.”
“All right. All right. Just give me a minute. This is some freaky X-Files shit or something.” She pulled a couple of deep breaths to settle her nerves. “How long have you been able to do this?”
Tomi hedged and nibbled on her bottom lip. “The first time I did it, about a month after you rescued us from that basement.”
“What? That long?”
“Yeah. And there’s other things . . . small things.”
“I’m all ears.”
Tomi grabbed what was left of her beer and chugged it down. “I’ve never told anybody about this. But, uh . . . I’ve been in a few intimate relationships in the past, and the guys often complained that when I’m asleep that I . . . appear dead.”
Castillo’s facial expressions were getting quite the workout. “Explain.”
“They claim that I stop breathing at night—that I lay there like a corpse or something.” Tomi chuckled at a memory. “When me and my first boyfriend spent the night together, I woke to him sobbing like a baby. The paramedics were coming into the room with a gurney. I completely freaked everyone out when I woke up. Needless to say, that relationship ended rather suddenly.”
The waitress finally brought more beer to the table. Tomi and Castillo reached for the additional alcohol like it was a lifeline.
“The best that I can figure,” Tomi said, “Craig Avery might have been a mad scientist after all.”
16
Stallion Gentlemen’s Club
Abrianna strolled to the front door of the Stallion dressed in black Jackie O sunglasses and with her head hung low. Crusher, in his customary suit and tie at the front door, took one look and shook his bald head.
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