“I never know how I’m going to feel from day to day,” Britney said. “It’s a miracle I had the energy to come to this meeting. Would you have a few minutes to talk with me right now?”
Waverly hesitated. He didn’t want to waste the woman’s time, or his own.
Britney gave him a pleading look. “There’s a Sizzler across from the Fox Hills Mall. We can go there. My treat.”
“Uh, okay. Sure.”
Waverly reluctantly followed her out of the building. As he started up his car, a gloomy feeling engulfed him. He talked to sick and dying people on a regular basis and always managed to detach himself emotionally.
Something told him he was going to have a hard time doing that with Britney.
CHAPTER 29
Two things prompted a change in Dre’s million-dollar plan. Getting ripped off and a call from Angela inviting him to dinner. That had to mean she had finally called off her engagement.
Dre was a little more than one hundred grand short of reaching his million-dollar goal, but he had grudgingly come to the conclusion that he had to find a safer way to get there. Most dudes were too stupid or too greedy to know when to quit. Dre saw the handwriting on the wall.
To move his plan forward, Dre set up a meeting with a buddy from his old neighborhood who owned a real estate investment firm. Willie Ross and Dre had been homeboys since fifth grade. Willie knew Dre’s vocation and had been trying to convince him to get out of the game for years. Willie was the real estate broker Dre used to buy his foreclosures.
As Dre sat in the reception area of Willie’s office at Crenshaw and Vernon, he wondered how his life would have turned out if he had taken the straight and narrow. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the smarts. But sometimes circumstances took you in a different direction.
Willie walked into the reception area and embraced him warmly. He was a stocky, muscular guy with a baby face.
“Nice suit,” Dre said, a bit of wistfulness in his voice.
“Thanks, man. You know I love me some Armani. C’mon back.”
Willie attended Southern University and spent a few years playing minor league baseball. When he realized that he wasn’t going to make it to the pros, he married a real estate agent and started buying and selling fixer uppers. He eventually began soliciting investors to buy commercial property and was doing quite well for himself.
Dre followed him down a wide hallway to a small office that looked out over a strip mall.
“It’s time,” Dre said, before he was even seated. “I’m ready to go one hundred percent legit.”
Willie grinned good-naturedly. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ve been worried about you, bruh. That’s a crazy life you livin’. Few guys are smart enough to get out in time. Does that gash on the side of your head have anything to do with your decision?”
Dre absently touched his face. “Yeah, man. I got robbed the other night. The dudes got me for fifteen big ones. Cash money.”
“Ouch,” Willie said, making a face.
“Exactly.” Dre hesitated. He felt like a lovesick schoolboy who couldn’t contain what he was feeling. “And I also met this female.”
“Okay, okay,” Willie said, nodding and smiling. “I can see from the expression on your face that she must be something special.”
“Definitely.” Dre’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “And if I’m goin’ to step to her, my situation has to be straight.”
“She doesn’t know anything about your line of work?”
“Naw, man. And trip this, she’s a lawyer.”
Willie’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “Dawg, you need to tell her your situation. That’s not something she should find out in the street.”
“I plan to. But when I tell her I’m out, I want to be completely out. That’s why I’m here.”
“You interested in picking up some more property?”
“Yeah, but instead of fixer uppers, let’s look into some apartment buildings. I’m ready to be a landlord. Something small. Five, maybe ten units.”
“Okay, I’ll get to work on it. I assume you’re still mostly in cash.”
“Yeah. That a problem?”
“Naw. I’ll work it out.” Willie was legit. For the most part. “Where’d you meet this lady?”
“I was at the gym just mindin’ my own business. She just couldn’t resist my charm.” Dre stroked his goatee. “And don’t laugh when I tell you this, but I ain’t even got with her yet and I still can’t stop thinkin’ about her.”
“Damn, dawg, she’s got your nose this wide open and you ain’t even hit it yet? What you waiting for, bruh?”
“It’s all about timing, man. I really want my situation to be right before I make my move.”
“Is she special enough to put a ring on her finger?”
Dre cocked his head. “That’s a possibility,” he said, smiling.
Willie chuckled. “I never thought I’d see you go down for the count, bruh. But I’m happy you found yourself a good lady. I hope everything works out for you.”
“It will,” Dre said. “It will.”
When Dre walked into Baja Cantina on Washington, he found Angela seated at the bar.
“Ain’t this a little close to home?” he asked. Dre didn’t know exactly where Angela lived, but Playa Vista wasn’t that far away. “Ain’t you worried about runnin’ into dude?”
“Cornell hates Mexican food.”
Dre was encouraged by her lack of concern. Had she already kicked dude to the curb?
They settled in at a table near the fire pit. After the waitress took their drink orders, they munched on chips and salsa and made small talk. On the drive over, Dre decided that he would be patient and wait for Angela to broach the subject of her wedding. Ten minutes in, he realized he couldn’t hold out.
Dre pointed to her left hand. “Does that mean you made your decision?”
Angela was still wearing her engagement ring.
She smiled. “Yes and no. I’m still wearing the ring because I don’t want people at work asking me a bunch of questions that I don’t want to answer. But, yes, I made my decision.”
Dre held his breath and waited.
“I told Cornell that I wanted to break off the engagement,” she continued. “He basically told me I was being emotional and asked me to reconsider until we could talk about it.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“I told him I would. But since then, he’s been pretending like I never brought it up.”
Dre tried to keep the disappointment off his face. “You’re goin’ through with it then?”
“Nope. I just need some time to get my ducks in a row. I can’t up and leave without a plan.”
“I see.”
“Sounds like you don’t believe me,” Angela said.
Dre hung his arm over the back of his chair. “When people want out of a relationship, they get out. When they don’t, they find excuses to stay.”
Angela started to say something, then reached for her purse instead. “I have something to show you.” She removed an envelope and handed it to him.
“What’s this?”
“Just open it.”
Dre pulled out several legal-size sheets of paper stapled together. It took him a few seconds, but when he finally realized that he was holding the lease papers for Angela’s new apartment, a big grin spread across his face. “Okay, so you are serious.”
“Yep, I think I am.”
Angela’s apartment was in Ladera Heights on Springpark Avenue. That was practically jogging distance from Dre’s place.
Dre could not stop smiling. He refolded the papers and slid them into the envelope. He had just handed the envelope back, when he stopped her.
“Hold up. Let me see that again.” He unfolded the papers and scanned the second page. “You don’t move in until the first of the month. You gotta hang with dude until then? Is that gonna be cool?”
“I’m telling him this weekend, then I’m moving in
with my sister until the first.”
“Why you even gotta wait that long? Tell him tonight.”
“I need to get some things in order first. It’s only a few days and I’ll be working late every night this week. I also want to start packing up some of my stuff. I’m sure Cornell won’t even notice.”
“You want me to be there when you tell him?”
Angela laughed. “Oh, that would go over real well.”
“Well, I can at least help you move.”
“No, thanks. My sister’s going to help me. I don’t have that much stuff anyway. Mostly clothes and odds and ends. All of the furniture is Cornell’s. He made me sell most of my stuff when we decided to live together.”
“You can crash with me if you want,” Dre offered.
“Thanks, but I really don’t want Cornell to think I’m breaking off our engagement because of another man.”
“What about the wedding?” Dre asked. “Have you cancelled it yet?”
“Nope, but the cancellation announcements are all addressed and sitting in the trunk of my car.”
“When you talk to dude, if he gets crazy, I want you to call me,” Dre said. “I mean it.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet. What’re you going to do? Come over and beat him up?”
“If I have to, yeah.”
“How do you know he wouldn’t beat you up?”
Dre laughed. “’Cuz everything you’ve said about the dude tells me he’s a punk.”
Angela grew serious. “Don’t worry. Cornell would never do anything that might soil his stellar reputation. He just can’t face letting me go.”
“I can understand that. I wouldn’t wanna let you go either.” Dre reached across the table and took her hand. “It’s been a while since you’ve lived alone. I think I should probably spend the first few nights with you. In case you get scared.”
Angela smiled. “You’re something else, you know that?” She picked up her menu. “What do you want to eat?”
Dre winked seductively. “You.”
Angela peered at him from atop the menu. “Just a few more days,” she said, her voice full of mischief, “and I’m all yours.”
CHAPTER 30
Erickson had not seen Sophia or Ashley in the five days since the coroner’s van pulled out of the driveway. Now that Claire was gone, they were no longer a family. Not that they ever really had been.
Sitting on the patio, enjoying his garden, he took a sip of scotch and pondered his situation. Things could not have worked out more perfectly. Claire’s cause of death had been listed as pancreatic cancer. He didn’t know how Becker had pulled it off, but the man was a master.
Erickson’s only problem now was Ashley. She was running around telling anyone willing to listen that Erickson had murdered Claire. There didn’t seem to be any way to stop her character assassination. What was he going to do? Call up all their friends and explain that his stepdaughter was a catty little bitch just like her mother?
No matter what, Erickson refused to hide or cower. He just prayed that the White House never got wind of Ashley’s lies. Such allegations against the chairman of one of the nation’s most well-regarded law firms would be a big news story. The same allegations against the next U.S. Attorney General would set off a media firestorm. He had considered eliciting Sophia’s help in silencing Ashley, but wasn’t sure he’d get it.
Erickson walked back inside to refresh his drink, reveling in the almost magical silence that now engulfed the home. He was alone in the world again and that suited him just fine. Erickson had not been in contact with what remained of his own family for years. He had a sister in Michigan and cousins he’d never been close to in Ohio. His escape to New York by way of NYU Law School had been his way out of the harsh Chicago winters and he had never looked back.
Without thinking it through, he picked up the telephone from the kitchen counter and called Sophia’s cell.
The minute she picked up, he had second thoughts, but proceeded anyway. “It’s Larry. How are you?”
“I’ve been better,” Sophia said. “And you?”
“As well as can be expected under the circumstances.” He cleared his throat and decided to skip the phony chitchat. “I’d like you to speak to Ashley and ask her to stop her preposterous allegations. If she wasn’t family, I would have already stepped in to stop her.”
“Ashley’s taking her mother’s death very hard.”
“We all are. But her allegations are ridiculous.”
Sophia did not reply.
When Erickson translated the meaning of her silence, he almost dropped his scotch. “You can’t possibly believe what Ashley’s been saying.”
“Claire was doing fine when I left that morning,” Sophia said coldly. “On top of that, I was as shocked as Ashley was to learn that Claire had sold her insurance policy. It seems strange that she hadn’t mentioned it to either of us.”
Erickson tried to rein in his burgeoning rage. “Like I told you, Claire sold that policy to pay for an experimental operation. She didn’t tell you about it because she didn’t want to raise your hopes unnecessarily. But later on, she changed her mind about going through with the procedure.”
“If you say so.”
Anger bubbled in Erickson’s chest. “Exactly what are you insinuating?”
“I’m not insinuating anything,” Sophia replied curtly. “I’m saying that I don’t think there ever was an operation. Ashley was Claire’s sole beneficiary. She thinks you convinced Claire to sell that insurance policy so you’d be able to keep the money. And so do I.”
“Are you nuts? I offered to give it to Ashley, but she refused to take it. And anyway, I’m not exactly hurting for cash.”
“As I understand it, some people can never have enough money. I think you knew Ashley wouldn’t accept a dime from you.”
“I’m telling you the truth!”
“I’m sorry, but I find it hard to believe that Claire would have wanted her only child to end up with nothing.”
Erickson closed his eyes and pressed the phone closer to his ear. “Nothing? Ashley gets three grand a month from her grandparents’ estate. Claire knew she’d be taken care of. Just do me a favor and talk to her. I can’t afford to have her lies picked up by the media.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” The bitterness in Sophia’s voice told him she would do absolutely nothing to help him.
“I’ve relayed Claire’s wishes regarding her services to the funeral home.” Erickson was now anxious to end the call. “If you and Ashley would like to keep the ashes, I don’t have a problem with that.”
Sophia gasped. “Ashes? What ashes?”
“Claire wanted to be cremated. She didn’t tell you?”
“No, she didn’t. I—I can’t believe she would’ve wanted to be cremated. She never shared that with me.”
“She told me she planned to talk to you.”
“Well, she didn’t.”
Erickson reached for his scotch glass. “Claire said she would write everything down, but she never got around to it.”
Sophia paused for a prolonged beat. “I’m really having trouble with what you’re telling me. Claire always said she—”
“I don’t care what she told you. This is what she wanted,” Erickson said, flustered. “I have to go now.”
“I don’t think Ashley’s going to be happy about this.”
“Why should I be concerned about whether Ashley’s happy or not? She isn’t concerned about destroying my reputation.”
Erickson hung up without saying good-bye. He refilled his glass with scotch, then made his way to his study. With Claire out of the way, he could enjoy his personal pleasures without fear of discovery. He turned on his computer, took a seat and waited as it booted up. He now wisely restricted his viewing habits to websites featuring women who were of age, but looked much younger. Erickson had also checked every crevice of the room to ensure that there were no recording devices Claire had neglected to remove.
Before he could get settled in, the phone rang. It was the director of the funeral home. “Mr. Erickson, I’ve just received a call halting your wife’s cremation.”
Erickson sat forward in his chair. “What? From who?”
“From your wife’s daughter. Ashley Morgan.”
“She doesn’t have the authority to—”
“I’m sorry, but when these types of family disputes arise, we can’t proceed until they’ve been resolved. She told us she’s asking the authorities to perform an autopsy. In light of that, legally we can’t proceed. I’m sure you understand.”
No, he did not understand.
“I wish Ashley had talked to me,” he said. “She’s been under tremendous stress. But do what you have to do. I have no problem with postponing the cremation until we get this all straightened out.”
Erickson hung up the telephone and hurled his drink across the room. The glass shattered, leaving a light stain on the white wall.
For months, it had been Claire he feared. But now Ashley had taken the baton and run with it. He could not let the White House get even a whiff of his family drama. Even a request for an autopsy could wreck his chances of getting the nomination.
Erickson still had no idea of Claire’s true cause of death. He had honored his agreement with Becker to never broach the subject again. But he was racked with curiosity. Instead of heading for the bathroom during his visit, Becker had obviously slipped into Claire’s room. Had he drugged her? If so, what would an autopsy reveal?
He snatched the phone to call Becker, then almost as quickly set it back on the desk. He did not want phone records to show that immediately after speaking to the funeral director, he had called his law partner. That could unnecessarily implicate Becker.
Erickson walked back into the kitchen to fix himself another drink. He chastised himself for sounding so alarmed when the funeral director called. A man who had nothing to hide wouldn’t fear an autopsy. He would not make the same mistake again.
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