Provocative Territory

by Altonya Washington

  Clarissa wanted more of his kisses and she curved her hands around his neck to draw him closer. Elias groaned while giving her what she craved. His fingertips at the entrance of her sex gave her a start. After all...she was only used to the feel of her fingers there.

  Clarissa’s flinching however was enough to jerk Elias back to the reality of what he was doing. He moved his hand suddenly, as though she’d scorched his skin.

  Her brown eyes were question-filled yet trace amounts of understanding filtered in through the confusion. When she bit down on her lip, Elias rolled his eyes and gingerly eased away from her.

  Clarissa inched up on the sofa, keeping her eyes downcast.

  “Clarissa...” Elias waited until silence held its sway for several uncomfortable moments.

  “It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything.”

  “But I should say something,” he argued.

  “Such as?” She looked at him then with challenge in her stare.

  “I should go.”

  Clarissa turned away from him. When she heard the front door close, she rested her forehead to her knees.

  * * *

  Barker Grant wore a scowl on what could have easily been classified as a ruggedly handsome face. The scowl however was a permanent fixture. It was one that so effectively darkened his looks that it kept him from showcasing his extensive investigating skills on screen for his employer, WPXI News 4 Philly.

  It all mattered little to Barker since he preferred the grit and heat of hunting down leads and uncovering stories that shocked and scandalized. Barker knew that was what kept him alive—alive and happy.

  Just then however, the scowl had to do with more than simply the set of his facial muscles. The work board he studied was the catalyst for his current unrest.

  “Gotta be a connection somewhere, dammit. Think, Bar...”

  Elias smiled when he arrived at Barker’s office door in time to hear the man’s solitary grumble. Another of his friends since the days of diapers and day care, Barker Grant had crafted as respected a name as it was intimidating. People hushed up quick and sure when Barker was in the vicinity. The man could sniff out dirt in the time it took to cover it.

  Though Elias had no desire to keep quiet. He needed to talk and he needed his most levelheaded friend to not only listen but to offer up some sage advice.

  Barker heard the quick rap on his door and pivoted on the heels of his Chuck Taylors. He grinned at the sight of his old friend. They met in the middle of the office for handshakes and hugs.

  “Am I interrupting work?” Elias tilted his head toward the corkboard.

  Barker cursed and gave an agitated wave in the general direction of the board. “I could stand a break. What’s up?”

  “Clarissa David,” Elias said, smirking at the mild frown Barker displayed in return. “Jaz Beaumont’s niece.”

  “Aha...she anything like her aunt?”

  Eli grinned. “Not in the way you mean.”

  That got Barker’s attention. He perched on the edge of one of the three desks in his office and waited.

  “I don’t get the impression that Clarissa’s a...”

  “Home-wrecking bitch?” Barker supplied and shrugged nonchalantly when Eli told him to have some respect for the dead.

  “Anyway.” Eli walked the office while smoothing fist against palm. “We’re working together on this remodeling project for Jaz’s clubs across the country. I’m acting as Clarissa’s go-to person for any questions she might have.”

  “Ha! And whose bright idea was that?”

  “Mine.”

  Barker’s smile turned devious. “Guess I should’ve asked if she looks anything like her aunt?”

  Elias sighed as though the effort took everything out of him. “God, yes,” he admitted.

  Barker whistled. “I know the ladies’ men weren’t too thrilled about giving up the job of seeing to Ms. David’s every need.” He referred to Santigo and Linus.

  Elias and Barker shared long laughter at the expense of their friends.

  “I probably should’ve let ’em keep the job, though.” Eli sat on the edge of one of the other desks. “I don’t think business will be a priority or even a passing interest for us.”

  “Well, hell, man, don’t sell yourself so short.”

  “We kissed.”

  Barker sat still for a while, and then stroked his jaw in consternation. “She come on to you?”

  “Not even. She, um...she was just talking and the next thing I know, I’ve got her up against a wall.”

  Barker’s whistle that time was partnered with a chuckle. “I’m surprised she let you get away with that.”

  Eli shook his head. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if she’d told me to stop. I couldn’t think straight.” He spread his hands submissively. “I swear I lost track of time while I was with her, Bar.”

  “What are you tellin’ me, E?”

  “It was like—” Eli left the desk “—like she was mine and only mine. I don’t know her from Adam and I felt possessive as hell over her.”

  Barker let slip another lurid curse while observing his friend. “So how are you gonna work with her?”

  Eli’s laughter was halfhearted at best. “That’s what I want you to tell me.”

  “Man!” Barker doubled over from amusement. “Telling you how to help me with my job would be easier.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Eli mumbled and strolled over to the corkboard where he stared blandly for a few seconds until his attention focused.

  “What the hell are you workin’ on?”

  “Somethin’ weird.”

  “Clearly. Is it a secret?”

  “Only if you work for WPHY,” Barker replied as he cited the name of a rival station.

  “So?” Eli fixed the man with an expectant stare.

  “Tryin’ to see how it all connects.” Barker grabbed a tuft of his curly hair and tugged, frustrated.

  “Connects?” Eli queried skeptically and turned back to observe the board again. The space was cluttered with papers, cards, pamphlets and pictures.

  The snapshots showcased several properties that Elias recognized as some of the most exclusive areas in the city. Additionally, there were several featuring what appeared to be garden party and charity events. A large circular space was left clear in the middle of the board.

  Eli moved closer to peer at the documents clustered among the pictures. He could tell that many of them were tax notices for property owned by some of the city’s most notorious characters.

  “What are you diggin’ into, Bar?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But you know there’s something here?” Eli turned to find Barker nodding. He looked back at the board. “What goes in the clear space?”

  “The one thing all this crap has in common.”

  “Which is?”

  “More like, who is.”

  Eli waited while Barker moved to rummage around on the desk before retrieving another picture. Barker handed him the photo and Eli’s head snapped up a second after he’d scanned the 5x7.

  Barker’s smile was grim. “That’s right. Our friendly neighborhood banker.”

  Chapter 6

  “Cleve Echols?” Eli’s tone and expression were incredulous.

  “He’s the only thing that glues all the pieces.”

  “Barker, listen, if you think Cleve Echols could—”

  “Hold on a minute.” Barker raised his hands and winced. “Now look. I was as close to Mr. Cleve as you were. My mother never had money to put in his bank but she made sure we took a trip there every week so I could see that a black man was good for more than shootin’ pool and beatin’ his wife.” Barker took the 5x7 photo and slapped it to
his palm.

  “That’s why I haven’t pinned this up there—he’s not where the story ends.”

  “All right.” Eli stroked his goatee and shifted his weight. “So you don’t have all the pieces and I’m damn well not questioning your nose for dirt, but I gotta ask what the hell got you snoopin’ into this?”

  Barker tossed aside the photo. “There was word about Mr. Cleve having money problems.”

  “Bull.”

  “True. I swear it.” Barker looked even more distressed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t back out of that deal you’ve got in the works with him.”

  Elias grinned. He knew better than to waste his time asking Barker how he knew about the project.

  “Project was scrapped,” Eli went ahead and confirmed. “Being broke isn’t a crime, Bar.”

  “I didn’t say it was. I’m only telling you why I started snooping.”

  Eli spread his hands, urging Barker to continue.

  “When I heard this rumor, I wanted to help him.” Barker ran all ten fingers through his mass of dark hair and studied the corkboard. “Thought I could set him up with some folks who could help—other bankers maybe? In these times, goin’ out of business is nothin’ new, but I hate to see it happen to good people like Mr. Cleve.”

  Barker reclaimed his perch on the desk closest to the board. “God knows we’ve done enough stories lately on this. I’ve made a ton of contacts because of it, but I couldn’t get one of those contacts to touch the man.” He shrugged his brows at Eli. “The whole drug dealer clientele and all.”

  Elias grimaced, recalling that Linus shared the same concerns when Joss Construction had been approached about the project.

  “‘Alleged’ drug money supposedly constitutes upwards of thirty percent of Echols’s bank holdings.”

  “That soft heart of his,” Eli groaned the words and began to pace the large office again. “Never turned his back on anybody he thought he could help.”

  “And that got me to thinking.” Barker pointed a finger to the ceiling. “How could the man be having money problems with those kinds of dollars funneling in? I was able to uncover the fact that their deposits had dried up along the same time that their property tax bills came due. Those cats had seen a fifty percent increase in those fees.”

  Eli whistled. “Hell, that can’t be right.”

  “Right as rain.” Barker snatched one of the documents from the board.

  “You think Mr. Cleve had somethin’ to do with it?”

  Barker thumped a finger against the page he’d pulled from the board. “I think all his high-level clients suddenly experienced money problems. These drug guys were just of the highest profile. We’ve run loads of stories on ’em.” He pointed to the photos.

  “Those snapshots there, properties all owned by Echols’s bank customers, sites of their charity events. They’ve seen maybe a two percent tax hike. Now either somebody’s tryin’ to take down these folks who just happen to be Mr. Cleve’s most notorious customers or they were tryin’ to take down Mr. Cleve himself.”

  A phone buzzed and as Barker tried doggedly not to be attached at the hip to his, he knew the sound had emerged from the phone belonging to his workaholic friend.

  It wasn’t a call but a reminder from Eli’s calendar. His expression softened even as he winced over the message.

  “Meeting with Clarissa,” he shared.

  Barker raised one eyebrow. “Twice in one day...”

  “First one wasn’t scheduled.”

  “Maybe she’ll cancel,” Barker mused and grinned at the look Eli sent him. “But that move would only have you heading back out there for a second visit.”

  “Thanks.” Eli’s reply was drenched in sarcasm but he still moved close to shake hands with Barker.

  “Always happy to help,” Barker stated then chuckled.

  * * *

  Clarissa was in the midst of accepting hugs from Waymon Cole’s executive staff. Everyone was filled with condolences for Jaz Beaumont. Waymon moved in last to hug. He kept his arm around Clarissa’s shoulders while he led her to his office. There, he escorted her into one of the chairs before a wide mahogany desk that claimed an unfair amount of space. The glossy piece of furniture was broad enough to support two desktop computers on either end.

  “I’m sorry we had to do this here, sugar.” Waymon squeezed Clarissa’s shoulders once she was seated. “And...now...” he added a softer tone on the way behind his desk.

  Clarissa smiled sadly at Waymon’s nonverbal mention of the funeral. He had been her aunt’s oldest friend. He had perhaps known the woman better than her own family.

  “Had to be done.” Somehow Clarissa forced strength into her voice.

  “Timing’s still poor but with everything I have going on, it’s the only time I could make for Martin.”

  Clarissa glanced around the well-lit office but there was no sign of Jazmina’s lawyer, Martin Rath.

  “Oh, he’ll be along.” Waymon read her expression and shifted his tall lean frame in the chair behind the desk. “I wanted some time alone with you. How are you doing, really?”

  “Better than I expected.” Clarissa set her tote to the matching chair next to hers and crossed her legs. “Keeping busy helps.” She cleared her throat when the image flashed of Elias Joss pinning her to the wall earlier that day.

  Waymon’s expression reflected concern and a hint of doubt. “You need to pace yourself, sugar.”

  “I’m tryin’.” Clarissa slouched a little in a chair. “There’s just so much to learn. So much Aunt Jaz didn’t tell me—didn’t want me to know.”

  “Such as?” Waymon’s sharp features took on a more notable edge.

  Clarissa recrossed her legs. “Just something she was trying to tell me that last day.” She laced her hands in her lap and inhaled loudly.

  “It’s important that you take it easy, all right?” Waymon grabbed a pen and twirled it around his fingers. “Chances are that Martin will tell you Jaz left everything in your name. Makes sense, you were her heart.” He smiled when she frowned over the advice.

  “Don’t play the innocent, miss. You work yourself too hard, and I know Jaz hated herself for putting so much on you.”

  “But she...she didn’t.” Clarissa suddenly recalled her aunt’s last words to her: be aware, be careful, live...and fall in love.

  “You’re about to become a very powerful woman in a very bold business.” Waymon ran a hand down the side of his long face. “People are quick to turn up their noses at adult entertainment, yet privately they funnel impressive amounts of money into it. If you think just looking like Jaz has made your life hard, imagine how hard it’s about to become now that you’ll be heading the business that made your aunt a scandal.”

  Clarissa studied the hem of her burgundy shirt dress. “Wasn’t just the business that did that, Way.”

  Waymon grimaced over the reference to Jaz’s predilection for attached men. With a nod, he acknowledged the truth of it. “I think that even had a lot to do with the business. The club left her with little time for crafting a real life—a real relationship. With a married man...she could have the joys of companionship without the work required to make a relationship last.”

  Clarissa sniffled at the waste of it all.

  “I think she finally realized the folly in all that,” Waymon said. “After all, there were wives involved...and children.”

  Again, Clarissa had the image of Eli Joss in her head.

  Waymon leaned across his desk. “I only want you to know that no one expects for you to carry on for Jaz. There are plenty here who’d happily oversee things. You remember that.”

  There was a knock on the office door and then a short, slender Caucasian man with sparkling dark eyes and an approachable smile stepped into the room.
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  Clarissa laughed the instant she saw him. She had always held a fondness for the playfully formal man.

  Out of habit, Martin Rath hastily brushed back the shock of grayish-blond hair that consistently fell across his forehead. The unmanageable locks gave Martin a boyish look that made him appear much younger than his fifty-something age bracket. He opened his arms for the hug Clarissa happily gave.

  “So sorry to hear about Jaz, my love.” Martin kissed her forehead. He glanced toward Waymon. “Has this guy explained that we’re all here to help in whatever way we can?”

  Clarissa looked over at Waymon, too, and then she nodded.

  Martin appeared satisfied, smoothing his hands along Clarissa’s sleeves. “Let’s get started then.”

  * * *

  Elias had another hour or so before his meeting with Clarissa David. His second meeting, he recalled and felt the smile coming to his face. He then muttered a curse over his inability to stifle the gesture and wondered what it was about her. Just her—not her aunt or any of that drama. Would seeing her under the guise of business be enough to give him the answers he wanted?

  Was it fair for him to use business as the excuse?

  Elias cursed again and effectively set the thought from his mind. He had arrived at the downtown headquarters of Echols’s Bank and Securities. Eli shut down the Navigator’s engine and waited—debating.

  He reassessed Barker’s suspicions and wondered if he could get Cleve Echols to put them to rest.

  “One way to find out.” He groaned and exited the dark SUV.

  * * *

  Cleve Echols was as beloved by his staff as he was by his customers, and it showed in the easy manner, laughter and conversation that livened the lobby of the elegantly furnished high-rise. The banking officers who weren’t with customers all recognized Elias. They threw up waves and nods but it was mortgage officer Linda Reynolds who actually tugged Eli into her office after she quickly ended a call and rushed out to grab his arm.