Ebony Angel

by Deatri King Bey

  “Melodramatic and arrogant,” he said. “I don’t want Crystal to think I’m abandoning her. Talking on the phone isn’t the same.”

  She slapped her forehead. She had been so busy wallowing in self-pity she hadn’t taken into consideration how Crystal would react. “You’re right. Don’t pay any attention to me. So how are we doing this fight?”

  He rose, calmly picked up the lamp and hurled it across the room, smashing the front window.

  She jumped up. “Trae! Are you out of your mind?”

  “I didn’t do it! They’re lying.”

  “Get out!”

  He tried to kiss her cheek. She hit at him. “Get away from me. How could you?”

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  She snarled. Yes, she was supposed to be playing along, but she was actually angry. How could he break the window?

  “I’ll send someone to fix that.”

  “Go away now.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “Come on up, Skeet.” Richard unlocked his front door and continued packing. He didn’t know what his mother was up to, but she said she needed him to get down there immediately. Nonno wasn’t sick, so he had no idea what could be so urgent.

  Skeet walked into the bedroom. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re selling your condo? How many times have I said I want to buy this place?”

  “I didn’t know you were serious.” He tossed two pairs of jeans on the bed. Trae had violated his home, and Richard no longer felt comfortable in it.

  “Hell, yeah, I’m serious. I put your for-sale sign in the trunk of my car. I get first dibs on this joint.” They both laughed. Skeet plopped down on the chaise lounge. “You find a new place yet?”

  “I haven’t even tried.”

  “I found the perfect place, but it’s a rental. The only problem is the location. I love the west side. Oak Park is as close to leaving the west side I’ll ever get.”

  “Where is it?”

  “About a mile from Chinatown.” He scratched his head. “Now that I think about it, it’s in a perfect location for you. Let’s go.”

  Richard took a few pairs of socks out of his drawer. “Can’t you see I’m packing? I’m leaving town in the morning.” He continued his work.

  “Damn, man. It’s only seven. You have all night. This place won’t be free for long. If you like, we can start the paperwork for me to buy this condo before you leave.”

  “You are entirely too impatient.”

  “I just know what I want, and don’t see why I should wait to get it. You want to sell this place. I want to buy this place. I don’t see the problem. Now let’s go.”

  * * *

  Richard stood in the foyer of the two-bedroom town house. “Hidden Oasis is right. I would have never found this place.” Royal blue carpeting covered most of the floors. The kitchen, living room and dining room were part of a large hexagon. “I love this layout.” The bedrooms were off the 10 o’clock and 2 o’clock sides of the room.

  “These are sweet, ain’t they? I’m tellin’ you, if someone had moved them to the west side, I’d of bought one.”

  “It’s perfect for me.” Richard inspected the kitchen. The cabinets had plenty of storage space, and the appliances were new. He pointed at the dark-gray ceramic tile. “Nice. Who do I contact?” He didn’t want to buy another place until he and Ebony were together again.

  “So it’s a done deal. Cool. What’s your realtor’s number?”

  “I’m not contacting anyone tonight. I’ll call whomever from Texas—tomorrow.”

  Skeet walked out. Richard ignored Skeet and stepped out onto the patio through the sliding door in the kitchen. The patio stretched from one bedroom around the back of the town house to the other bedroom. He wondered who tended the patches of lawn surrounding each home.

  Skeet stepped onto the patio, handing the phone to Richard. “I have your realtor on the line. I’ve already explained everything to him. All you need to do is confirm.”

  “You’re not serious, are you?”

  “Just tell the man you’ve found a buyer for your place, and you want to sign a lease for this place before you leave tomorrow.”

  Richard was anxious to move out of Oak Park, so he took the phone and made arrangements with the realtor, then went into the kitchen. “Don’t ever pull anything like that again. How did you get his number?”

  “Off the sign you had in your yard.”

  Richard laughed. “You really did take my sign. I didn’t even notice. You’re out of your mind.” He sat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. The park across the street would be perfect for Crystal. “Do you know if any of the units out here are for sale?”

  “I’m sure some are.” Skeet’s cell phone played “Bohemian Rhapsody.” He looked at the caller ID, then went into the living area answering, “What’s up?…No way!”

  * * *

  “Skeet, I wouldn’t joke about something like this. Dan is my father. I saw the birth certificate, his marriage license and everything. I’m so angry I could spit. How could they keep this from me?” Ebony switched the phone to her other ear, rolled over on the bed and hugged her pillow.

  “That’s jacked up. What did he say?”

  “I can’t speak to him right now. I feel so betrayed. First Mom, now this. I need time to sort out my feelings.”

  “Forget that feelings crap. I’ll three-way his ass right now. I want answers.”

  “No, Skeet.”

  “And what the hell did Marissa do this time?”

  Ebony smiled. Skeet was the only person who had always supported her decisions. He could be meddlesome at times, but she realized he was the only one who truly had her back. “It doesn’t matter. Do you want to go to the movies? I’m home alone and bored.”

  “I’m still trippin’ off Dan bein’ your father.”

  “Wild, huh?”

  “I’m not tryin’ to rush you off or nothin’, but I got company. I’ll come by tonight. We can catch a late show.”

  “Oh, no, don’t rush things on my account. Love ya.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  * * *

  “I’m heading home to finish packing,” Richard said.

  Skeet walked into the kitchen. “Things are getting crazy around here. First Trae leaves the business, and now Dan’s actually Ebony’s father.”

  “Trae doesn’t deal drugs anymore?” He told himself not to panic. He had known Trae would make this move sooner or later, but had hoped it would be later. Much, much later.

  “This is his last trip to St. Louis. He’s legit. I’m sticking around a few more months to watch his back.”

  “Did you say something about Dan being Ebony’s father?” For some reason, this news didn’t shock Richard, but he knew it would knock Ebony off-kilter. He needed to settle his business with his mother and speed up his plan to take Trae out of the picture.

  “Now ain’t that some crazy shit? Ebony’s a mess. She won’t even talk to him. And don’t get me started on Marissa.”

  “What’s wrong with Marissa?”

  “You got me. Something happened between her and Ebony.”

  Richard nodded knowingly. He would bet Trae was at the root of all the turmoil in Ebony’s life. When Trae finished with her, she wouldn’t know left from right. “We need to get up out of here.” He headed for the door.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Richard stretched his legs out in the backseat of the limo Stephanie sent to the airport for him. It had been a long flight, made to seem longer by his private investigator not answering his phone. Now that he finally had him on the line, he wanted some answers. “Hello, Mr. Graves.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t call you sooner. I just arrived in town about an hour ago.”

  The limo was stuck in traffic. Good, thought Richard. That would give him more time to speak with the private investigator before he arrived at his parents’ home. “It’s been over a month. What’s taking so long?”

  “I kno
w you’re worried about your fiancée, Mr. Pacini. But you have to remember that it often takes the police department years to solve cases.”

  “I don’t have years.” He tried to rein in his frustration but couldn’t. There had to be a way to stop Trae.

  “I’m severely handicapped here. You didn’t know his real name or the name of his parents. I can’t work with the police. I don’t have any connections in Chicago.”

  “That’s why I hired you. He has people in the police department. Hell, he has people all over the Midwest.” Richard rubbed his left temple, frustration mounting. “Please tell me you at least know his name.”

  “His real name is Trinity Miles. He did have enough time to murder the Collins boys before his flight. I’m searching for any and everything. Murder has no statute of limitations, and he hasn’t always been so careful.”

  The private investigator idea wasn’t panning out. He would have to gather his family and tell them the truth. Once they left the country, he would approach Skeet and Ebony.

  “Give me another month. I’m close. I can feel it.”

  “I don’t have a month. He could convince her to marry him by then.”

  “I know you don’t want to hear this, Mr. Pacini, but you’ve lost your objectivity. Your number one priority should be keeping your family safe, not keeping him from marrying Ebony.”

  “I can’t stand by and allow this to happen. I’ll tell my family to leave the country.”

  “For how long, until he murders you? Someone’s already hired a private investigator from Chicago to investigate you.”

  Richard gripped the phone so tight his fingers hurt. “What the…Who?”

  “I don’t know. I wouldn’t be surprised if Trae hired someone to keep an eye on you.”

  He cursed under his breath. “Does this investigator know about you?”

  “I’m covering my tracks; he isn’t even trying. That’s another reason I believe he’s one of Trae’s men.”

  “Great,” he drawled. “I want to be posted daily, even if you don’t find anything.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  * * *

  Richard walked into the grand hall of his parents’ home. “Have you seen my mother?” he asked a passing maid.

  “Your parents are in the study, Mr. Pacini.”

  He thanked the maid, then went to the study. The layout of the study hadn’t changed much since he was a child. The sofa was still far enough from the wall for a child to hide behind. The end tables had ceramic lamps instead of antique vases. The built-in bookshelf was still full of books most normal people wanted nothing to do with. He looked at the floor. Stephanie had the marble replaced the day after he’d scratched it.

  “Hello, Mother.” He nodded a greeting to his father and the man sitting at the round reading table. His parents seemed nervous, especially his mother. They joined the man at the table.

  “Richard, this is Dr. Joyner. He’s here to help,” Stephanie said. “Have a seat with us.”

  “Is someone sick?” He sat at the only remaining chair, which was across from the doctor.

  “We’re concerned about you, son,” Phillip said. “You’ve changed so much these past few months.”

  Richard’s eyes slowly traveled from his father to Dr. Joyner to his mother. “Why are you all staring at me? What’s going on here?”

  “Dr. Joyner is my psychologist,” Stephanie answered. “I asked him to be here.”

  Richard released a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Nonno had told him Stephanie had started seeing a therapist.

  Stephanie tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the oak table. “We know who you are. We want to help you.”

  “What? Help me with what?”

  “We know everything,” Phillip said. “Your street name is Smoke. You’ve been laundering money for drug dealers. You’re under surveillance by both drug and gang task forces in Chicago. You are part of a double-murder investigation. Your best friend Skeet isn’t a football player but a major drug dealer. Your fiancée is the lover of the man who we believe beat you.”

  “So you’re the ones who hired the private investigator. This is freakin’ unbelievable.”

  Stephanie cleared her throat, calling his attention. “We’ll hire the best lawyers to keep your record clean. Dr. Joyner has given us a list of excellent rehabilitation clinics.”

  “So now I’m a druggie, too. What am I on, Mother?” He couldn’t help but laugh at how easily his parents thought the worst of him. He stood to leave. “I can’t believe you called me down here for this.” He tipped his imaginary hat at the doctor. “Sorry they wasted your time. Charge them double.” He stalked toward the door.

  “Richard. Wait. Don’t leave.” Stephanie followed him.

  He spun around, practically knocking her over. “Why not? I’m a drug-dealing, money-laundering druggie who doesn’t have enough sense to find his own woman, but instead goes after the woman of the top drug dealer in the Midwest. And, oh, I forgot—I also belong to a gang. I’m a busy man. I don’t have time for this.”

  She wrapped her arms around him. “Allow us to help you.”

  Phillip stood beside Stephanie and studied his son. Richard was so hurt and angry he almost turned away. He wouldn’t hide from the pain this time. He would confront his fears, and let the chips fall where they may.

  “I don’t want or need your help.” He pried her arms from around him, then returned to the table. “I refuse to live like this any longer.”

  Stephanie and Phillip retook their seats.

  “We’ve misjudged you, haven’t we?” Phillip asked.

  “I’m saying my piece, then leaving and never returning,” he stated with a confidence he didn’t feel.

  “No, Richard,” Stephanie cried.

  “I won’t go if you explain one thing to me.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “How is it you can accept your son being a drug dealer, a money launderer, a junkie, and a gang-banger, but you’re ashamed of him being black.”

  “You’re not black.”

  “You are correct. I’m not black. I learned a long time ago that it takes a lot more than a tan and a black great-grandmother to make a person black.”

  “Stop trying to change the subject. We’re only trying to help you.”

  “Stephanie, stop,” Phillip interrupted. “We were wrong.”

  “But, Phillip.” She turned to Dr. Joyner. “You’re supposed to be helping.”

  “Listen to your son, Stephanie,” the doctor answered.

  “You’re all turning this on me,” she snapped. “I’m not the one in the gang.”

  Richard had reached the point of no return. He wanted a family with Ebony. Until he hashed out his problems with his mother, that wasn’t possible. He also wanted peace for himself. Bottling up his feelings and fears was eating him from the inside out. “Let me get this straight. You don’t mind people, such as the good doctor here, thinking I’m a criminal as long as he doesn’t think I’m black. What kind of sick logic is that? You do realize Nonno is black, don’t you?”

  “He’s Italian. You’re ashamed of who you are.”

  “You have your work cut out for you, Dr. Joyner. I’m proud of my French, Italian, and Moor blood. Can you say the same? Nonno’s still hurt that you worked to lose your accent and everything associated with your Italian heritage. Being Italian wasn’t good enough for you. Being a black Italian was unspeakable.” He nodded at the doctor. “Good day.”

  Phillip followed Richard out while Dr. Joyner stayed behind and consoled Stephanie.

  “I’m sorry. I should have known.”

  “Yes, you should have.” Richard crossed the grand hall. “I lost Ebony because I was ashamed of my family.” He stopped and considered his father. Phillip was a big man: dark hair with graying edges, blue eyes, stern features. He always wore power suits, and didn’t look like the type of man to be pushed around by his wife. “I don’t even know what to call you.” His eerie laugh echoed off the wa
lls. “I’m thirty and don’t have a comfortable way of addressing my father.”

  “I love you, Richard. I’ve made mistakes. I regret my inaction. There is no excuse, but you were always such a strong-willed boy, while your mother was weak. She always has been. But I love her. You had Papà. Instead of protecting her, I should have protected you. I should have insisted she go to therapy years ago.” He held his arms out and hands up in surrender. “I’m asking for your forgiveness.”

  Richard stepped into his father’s embrace. He relaxed in Phillip’s arms, releasing the anger and disappointment festering in his heart. Tired of fighting, he wanted to work toward healing his family. “I need your help.”

  “Anything, son.” They went into Phillip’s office, where Richard brought him up to date on everything that happened with Trae.

  “This private investigator hasn’t found anything you can use?” Phillip asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “Tell Skeet the truth.”

  He shook his head. “If he believed me, he’d go after Trae. He saved my life, Papà.” Richard smiled. It felt awkward saying Papà, but it also felt right. He saw the joy on his father’s face. It was odd, but he felt at home.

  Phillip nodded. “You don’t want to risk your friend’s life. I understand.” He moved his hand over his face. “I’ve been thinking about retiring.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Papà misses Italy. Stephanie and I want to travel the world. I can hire protection for you and your sisters.”

  “You would quit your job for me? But you’ve worked so hard.”

  “It’s time for me to take care of my family.”

  “I appreciate your efforts, but he could hire a sharpshooter. I don’t want to live under siege, and I don’t want that for you.” He leaned back in the chair. “I think I should tell Dan. He’ll be able to find evidence against Trae.”

  “Didn’t you say he killed the man Ebony thought was her father?”

  “I’ve finally figured Trae out. He likes to separate his victims from their support. He knew I’d go to Dan, so he said something to make me fear Dan.”