Caught Up (Indigo Vibe) (2 page)

“I’ve been wondering the same thing, man. I think his silent partner double-crossed him, but that brings us back to square one. I sure as hell wouldn’t die for someone who double-crossed me.”

“We need more time.”

“They won’t commute his sentence unless he gives up his partner or Sierra. Hell, you’re the lawyer. How can we have his sentence commuted?”

“Good question.”

“Well, something’s got to change. I’m too close to let this slip by.”

Drifting into his own world, Samson looked around the one bedroom flat.
Boy, has my life changed
. He went from having a promising career and beautiful home to an all-consuming job and somewhere to sleep. The worn-out, tacky tan furniture was even part of the rental agreement. Three years had passed since the divorce. Tired of punishing himself, he wanted to live again, practice law again, and take control of his life again. But, he couldn’t bail out on Alton.

After Samson left his law firm, Alton kept him from shutting himself off from the world and convinced him to join the DEA. Alton had been there to kick sense into him when he needed kicking. The change of pace had worked wonders initially. Being a DEA agent was exciting and kept his mind off his troubles, but now he was ready to move on and do his own thing. After David’s execution, he planned on turning in his resignation.

“Anybody home?” Alton knocked the coffee table with the head of his golf club. “Hell, forget this. It’s Sunday. We’re off. Let’s go to the pool hall and worry about this in the morning.”

“I’m with you.” He stood to leave. Only thirty-four years old, Samson still had a lot of life to live. Thoughts of his large family comforted his aching heart. He hadn’t seen them since his sister’s funeral a year ago. She’d been on his mind a lot lately. “I forgot to ask your status on the Ernesta Wells’ call David received.”

“I’ve already run her. Of course, her name is totally bogus. We’ll allow the guards to believe they’re getting away with smuggling her in until after we’ve interviewed Ernesta. The warden’s gonna call us as soon as she arrives.” Alton stood and reached in his pocket for the keys to his Mustang.

“She’s our only lead,” Samson said. “That and flowers. He’s been obsessed with them lately. His cell walls look like he has floral print wall paper.”

“Maybe he’s dreaming about his funeral. Martín dies in ten days. We need to find out who he’s actually protecting and why, or get his sentence commuted. I don’t give a damn how we do it.”

* * *

Chicago

“Happy birthday, CNN,” said the news correspondent. “The nation’s first all-news station debuted on this day in 1980…”

Opening the door, Rosa heard CNN, and her spirits lifted. The news playing could only mean one thing. She dropped her keys into her purse, setting it on the entry table.

“Daddy!” She rounded the corner into the living room where he stood with his arms held out. She hugged her grizzly bear of a father. “You’re early.” Though he lived in Miami, they had keys and the combinations to each other’s residences.

His hearty chuckle filled the room. “You want me to leave and come back?”

After the dose of disappointment her mother injected, Ernesto’s loving embrace was just the antidote she needed. “You’d better not.” She fought the urge to cry. She couldn’t save her mother if she refused to recognize that she needed saving.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I visited Mom today. That’s always draining.”

He lifted her chin with his fingertip. “She’s the one losing out, not you.” He wiped the tears from her face. “I have something for you.” He turned her around.

A glimpse of brown beside her large, white sofa caught her eye. “You didn’t.” She walked around to investigate. “You did! An African stool.” She knelt beside the Asante chief’s stool, running her hand over the fine dark wood of the concave surface. Excited to see Ernesto, she’d missed the stool when she came in. The craftsmen carved each stool out of a single piece of wood. The base of this particular stool was an elephant, a sign of chiefly authority. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“You have two ends to this couch.”

“Two! You got me two?” She went to the other side of the couch, and sure enough, there was a second stool. This one’s base was a lion, reserved for royalty. Both stools were only two feet tall, making them perfect end tables. She knew the antiques’ original purpose, but she didn’t want people sitting on them.

“You need to get dressed. We’ve only begun to celebrate your thirtieth.”

“Why didn’t I turn thirty years ago? How should I dress?”

Arms crossed over his chest, he raised a brow. She laughed. He always wore designer suits, handcrafted Italian leather shoes, and Egyptian cotton or some other fine-fabric dress shirt. He did everything in first class style.

“I guess bowling and Burger King are out.”

He moved several large throw pillows out of the way, so he could sit comfortably. “Who’s Burger King?” He winked.

* * *

Rosa and Ernesto boarded the Odyssey cruise ship, which was docked at Navy Pier on Lake Michigan. Known for its elegance, the Odyssey had three levels, each ensuring its guests a great time.

“Let’s have our picture taken,” Rosa suggested.

The photographer positioned Rosa and Ernesto along the railing and snapped shots. “You’re a very lucky man,” the young man said.

Pride filled Ernesto’s light eyes. “My daughter is something, isn’t she? It’s her birthday.”

Ernesto missed the man’s double take, but Rosa didn’t. She didn’t resemble either of her parents, so she figured she must look like some of her family that she didn’t know, which was all of it. With Ernesto growing up in foster care and Harriet’s only sister disowning her, Rosa considered herself family-poor.

As the man clicked more pictures, she observed Ernesto. In his early sixties, he was still a handsome man. She reached up and ran her finger through an area of his hair that had more gray than black.

He smiled down at her. “I’m getting old.”

“Mature.” She hugged him.

They had spent the majority of their day at the Art Institute enjoying the exhibits, with her talking about the children she tutored during the school year, and him giving her pointers on how to expand her computer-networking firm.

Ernesto had raised the bar, using Bolívar International as the example. Proud of her father, Rosa listened to most of his advice because she knew it was sound.

The pictures printed out instantly. Liking what they saw, Ernesto paid for the photos, and then escorted Rosa around to the Topaz deck. The ship left dock and cruised Lake Michigan, providing a breathtaking view of Chicago’s night skyline.

“Where’s everyone?” Rosa asked. The outside portion of the deck was deserted. “The main point in these cruises is to see the skyline from the lake.”

Ernesto frowned. “This is strange. I’ll go inside and see what’s going on. Stay here.” He walked around the deck chairs toward the entrance.

Rosa followed. “I’m coming, too. You’re not leaving me in the
Twilight Zone
.”

The perfect gentleman, he opened and held the door open for her.

“Thank you, kind sir.” She stepped into the Topaz dining area.

“Surprise!” cheered the crowd.

Rosa clutched her heart in fear, and then realized what was happening. The dining hall was filled to the deck’s two-hundred-person capacity with her tiny family, friends, and co-workers.

Juan, one of the children she babysat, ran to her with his hands held up. “Wosa!” She lifted the three year old, swinging him around. “Wheee!” he squealed.

She stopped spinning and placed him on her hip. “
¿Como estas, Juan?
”

“English, Rosa,” Ernesto chastised. “He must learn.”

“Yes, Daddy.” Not in the mood for an English lesson, she held the child close. Often, she wondered if Ernesto was ashamed of his Colombian blood. He’d claim to be a proud Afro-Colombian, and they were both fluent in Spanish, but she knew there was so much more to the culture. It was Anna who had taught her about El Choco, Colombia, also known as the African Heart of Colombia, where Ernesto’s family came from; Anna who had taught her the many similarities between African-American and Afro-Colombian history, Anna who had convinced Ernesto to take Rosa on a trip to Colombia for her high school graduation gift.

Then again, it was Ernesto who sparked her love for African art, and Ernesto who had raised her a proud black woman.

Juan, tugging on her arm, broke her musings. Ready to enjoy her special day, she gazed into his smiling face. Someday, she’d have a child of her own. The crowd continued gathering around to wish her happy birthday.

Someone pulled on her waist. She looked over her shoulder. “Mom!” Juan remained planted firmly on her hip as she hugged Harriet. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this.”

“And ruin the surprise? Never! Stand back and let me see you.”

Rosa handed Juan to Ernesto, then spun to show off her new designer dress. The sheer black rayon shell and Georgette lining were close-fitting without being tight; the sleeves were capped and the sides slit up to the knees. A rose border print swept diagonally across the front and along the hemline.

“You’re simply breathtaking.”

Rosa bowed gracefully. “Why, thank you. You’re looking pretty good yourself.” She had to give Harriet her props. She always dressed nicely, and tonight was no different. Harriet sported a burgundy silk pantsuit and had her hair in a French knot with a few curls falling freely.

She waved Rosa on. “Go ahead with your friends. Have a good time.”

Grateful Harriet wasn’t drunk, she kissed her mother’s chocolate cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Rosa turned to greet everyone else and bumped into Anna. “Someone’s been keeping secrets.”

“One…two tops.” Anna winked. “Harriet’s right. You’re breathtaking.”

Harriet grumbled under her breath as she pushed her way past Anna and stalked off toward the bar.

Rosa narrowed her eyes on her mother.
She’d better not cause the usual scene. Not tonight.

She returned her attention to the dark statuesque beauty her father had married. Anna would never replace her mother, yet Rosa had carved a special spot in her heart for Anna. Many a night, she spent talking to Anna about her troubles, wants, and desires. Many a night, she spent wishing Harriet were more like Anna.

“I’m sorry about—”

“Stop apologizing for your mother.” Anna fingered the curls about Rosa’s face. “I love this new look.” She hugged Rosa. “Everyone’s waiting on you to get out there and shake your groove thang.”

Anna’s attempt at slang had Rosa laughing. “Groove thang? Okay, I’m out.” She took Juan from Ernesto and headed for the dance floor.

* * *

“I’m worried about Rosa,” Ernesto said. Dinner finished, most of the party guests were on the dance floor or on the boat’s deck enjoying the view. Ernesto remained at the head table with Anna, watching Rosa.

Anna patted her husband’s hand under the table. “She has such a kind heart. Look at her out there with Juan.” Rosa was on the dance floor teaching Juan how to step to a R. Kelly jam. “I don’t think his mom will ever get him back. Our baby is ready to settle down and have children of her own.”

Ernesto’s brows furrowed. “I’m not talking about that. I was only thirty-two when I married the first time, and look what a disaster that turned out to be. She has plenty of time to start a family. I’m worried about her trying to save Harriet. That woman’s the pilot on a one-way trip to self-destruction. I don’t want Rosa caught up.”

Harriet stumbled over to Ernesto’s table. “How could you bring your whore to my daughter’s party?” she slurred.

“Please, Harriet,” Anna said before Ernesto could speak. “Not tonight. I’m willing to leave. This is too special for Rosa.”

“My point exactly. Your ass shouldn’t be here!” She stomped on the floor, spilling a portion of her Long Island iced tea on her silk suit.

Ernesto glared at Harriet. The party was Anna’s idea, but she was willing to stay away because she didn’t want Harriet to cause a scene. He’d told Harriet, and she’d insisted that she knew how to behave. He’d prayed that for once Harriet would put her child first. Having the three of them in the same room without a fight would have been a long-awaited, much-needed first for Rosa.

“What the hell you looking at?” she asked Ernesto.

Ernesto stood to drag Harriet out of the party if necessary. He should have followed his own mind instead of Anna’s, and not invited Harriet.

“Mother!” Rosa spun Harriet around to her. “Grab your wraps,” she said through tight lips. “We’re leaving!”

* * *

After the boat docked, Rosa dropped her mother off at her condo, then called Ernesto and told him that she wasn’t returning to the party. He tried to change Rosa’s mind, but the moment had been ruined for her. Instead, she went home, showered, and readied for bed. Mind weary, she reached into her nightstand for her two best friends: journal and pen.

Ernesto had started her writing journals when she was eight. He said women had all of these extra emotions and journaling helped get the emotions out before they drove the men in their lives crazy. A smile warmed her heart as she readied her pen, thanking God again for her father.

I love Mom, but things have to change. She doesn’t respect my feelings or care about the awkward positions she continually puts me in, and I’m tired of it.

She wrote everything that had happened throughout the day regarding Harriet.
Maybe the books are right, and I’m an enabler.
She tapped her chin with the end of the pen.
I’ve remained quiet out of respect; but if I remain quiet, things will never get better. I hate to admit this, but it felt good telling Mom off this afternoon. Freeing.
She doodled a few scribbles.
Things have to change.

CHAPTER TWO

Upset that Rosa refused to return to her party, Ernesto claimed one of the deck chairs and watched the skyline as the Odyssey cruised Lake Michigan.

The city has changed so much.

The boat passed the high rise where he had lived some thirty-odd years ago.

I’ve changed so much.

He could remember the Thanksgiving when he’d learned of Harriet’s pregnancy as if it just happened. Looking back, he had a lot more to be grateful for than he’d realized…

Chicago, thirty-one years ago

A quiet David equaled a dangerous David. Ernesto knew David’s somber mood had something to do with his girl. The previous day, David had hung up on her and closed himself off in the spare bedroom. He stormed out a few hours later and didn’t return until late.

“I bought a few more buildings.” Ernesto pushed the specifications for the properties across the kitchen table to David. The real estate, car dealerships, and other businesses they owned weren’t enough for Ernesto to launder their drug money, and Barry Paige was trying to muscle in on their trafficking territory. They didn’t have time for distractions. “You’re bringing in the money too fast,” he joked, hoping to lift David’s spirits and get him talking. “We need to make our move.” He pulled the plate of bacon over to his side of the table and took a few slices.

“Well, ain’t this some shit!” David skimmed through the papers while continuing to eat. “I knew we were moving up, but damn. Who’d a thunk two
niños
nobody wanted would rule the world someday?” He tipped his forkful of eggs onto a slice of toast. “We’ve come a long way.”

“Yeah, we’ve come a long way.” Thoughts of their years in foster care, bouncing from one abusive home to the next, always brought Ernesto down. If it weren’t for his friendship with David, he would have never made it.

At the age of fifteen, they had their first corner. Seventeen years later, they controlled the drug trade in the majority of the Midwest of the country. David handled the seedier side of the business, while Ernesto handled the rest.

Ernesto’s thoughts returned to the present. He needed to break David out of his funk before it affected their expansion. “I’m quitting my job and buying a technology firm.” He used his position as a corporate lawyer to network both the legal and illegal sides of business and start several legitimate businesses of his own. David saw the legitimate side as a necessary evil, but Ernesto wanted to fit into it, be accepted by it.

“It’s an up and coming firm,” he continued between bites of bacon and eggs. “Software and hardware. They have several large contracts pending. I’m sinking all of my assets into this.”

“How many times have you told me not to put all of my eggs in one basket?” David said, his Spanish accent coloring his words deeper than Ernesto’s.

“I’ve already developed a vision for the company that will propel me by leaps and bounds. I don’t know. I just have a feeling about this. I’m going for it.”

David nodded. “That’s cool.” He forked through his food. “I always knew your white ass was corporate.”

“I’m not white, I’m Colombian,” Ernesto retorted to rile David.

“Humph, Colombian, my ass.” David tossed his fork onto his plate. “Your ass ain’t neva been to no Colombia. We, Chicago boys, born and raised. You need to change your name to some shit like Ernest Bowman!” Their laughs ricocheted off the kitchen walls. “A wholesome white-sounding name that’ll keep a few doors open for your corporate ass. Jews do it all the time. You wanna be corporate. I say go all out. Hell, you even sound like a white boy.”

“When I’m at the top of the Fortune 500 list, I want my mother to see what she gave away.” His joke had an undercurrent of truth. His earliest memory was when he was three and his mother’s lover said he wasn’t raisin’ no white man’s kid. A few days later Ernesto’s mother dropped him at David’s house to spend the night. She never returned. David’s mother, Maria, kept Ernesto so David would have someone to play with while she worked. A year later, she was murdered by one of her johns, and the boys were placed in foster care.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure she follows the list religiously, Ernest.”

Relieved David was climbing out of his stupor, Ernesto smiled.

“Seriously though, I’m glad you bought this company. I’m sure you’ll take it far. If there’s anything I can do, you know I got your back.”

Ernesto knew. He couldn’t count the number of times David had saved his butt over the years. Throughout their whole lives, the only people they could rely on were each other. David would get into a bind—Ernesto’s charm and cunning would get David out of it. When Ernesto needed unabashed, brute force—David was willing and able to oblige. But, Ernesto wanted to do this entirely on his own. This was his company, and he would be the reason it succeeded or failed.

He watched David toy with his food. Prying conversation out of him was awkward. It was time to stop fooling around and go in for the kill. “What’s going on with your girl? You might as well say it before your black ass explodes,” he said with a smile, eliciting the same from David.

David became somber, stared at Ernesto a while, then pushed away from the table. “
Esa
puta
got pregnant! No, make that, she got pregnant, then had the audacity to tell me I’m gonna pay for her abortion. Now ain’t that some fucked up
mierda
? I ended up kickin’
Jorge’s
ass.”

Now this sounded more like his David! The more upset he was, the thicker the accent, until he’d finally switch to Spanish completely.

“You’re out of your damned mind,” Ernesto said as he lifted his mug and inhaled the rich aroma of the Colombian coffee. This turn of events didn’t bode well for Ernesto. A baby in the mix would complicate their already difficult life exponentially; there had to be a way to turn this around. “You’d better chill out with these married women before a jealous husband comes after you.” He set his coffee down and continued eating.

“Aw, hell naw! I know you ain’t tellin’ me to watch who I’m screwin’. I’m not the one who almost got his brains blown out. How the hell you gonna sleep with Mac’s girl? Damn, man. You’re lucky I was followin’ his ass.”

“I was only seventeen, and Vanessa was too fine to pass up. You’re thirty-two. What’s your excuse?” Hunger gone, he dropped his fork onto his plate.

“That was one of my best kills.” David positioned his arms and hands as if he were shooting a rifle. He closed one eye and looked through the sight, following along the diamond print wallpaper, past the refrigerator, to the patio door. “Taking over his territory was a good idea. Sleeping with his woman was stupid.” He readjusted his imaginary rifle. “S.W.A.T don’t have shit on me.” Pulling the trigger, he jerked back. “Bang!”

Ernesto flinched, haunted by nightmares of Mac’s head exploding: the blood, the brains, the body. He loved the control the money and power associated with the drug trade afforded him, but he couldn’t stomach the violence. He envied David’s fight. David would do whatever needed doing. Ernesto knew he’d be unstoppable if he could somehow harness David’s power.

David lowered his arms. “I’m sorry, man. My ass got carried away.”

“I’m fine.” Ernesto forced himself to stop trembling.

“Hell, naw! Your ass really is white now. I was out of line. That bastard had a gun to your head. I know that shit fucks with you.” He returned to his seat. “I need to learn how to shut my damn mouth.”

“I’ll be fine.” He lifted his cup of coffee with shaky hands, then replaced it on the table.

David’s brows furrowed. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” He pushed his plate, the cup, and the memories away. “Do you think they’ll go to the police? Maybe I should smooth things over with George and give him a payoff. We can’t afford for you to be arrested over this stupid stuff right now. Paige is standing at our back door with a battering ram, and the DEA is at the front.”

“
Jorge
ain’t goin’ no fuckin’ where; Paige ain’t shit; and the DEA hasn’t even learned to tie their damn shoes yet.”

“What did you do to George?”

“I pushed him around a little.” He strummed his fingers on the wooden tabletop. “I can’t take him out. My stupid ass was drunk. I drove over there like I owned the damn place. I know someone had to see my car.”

They both fiddled with their cups of coffee, calculating their next move. Contrary to David’s assessment of Paige, the man was very important. Paige controlled the second largest trafficking territory in the United States and was primed to squeeze in on David’s. The Drug Enforcement Agency might be only a few years old, but they were hungry to make a name for themselves. Ernesto groaned. He needed to get this baby situation under control fast so that David would concentrate on business.

“Why don’t you just marry Harriet?” Ernesto suggested, knowing what David’s reaction would be. “That way you’d have your son. It’s not like you have to be faithful.”

“My ass would be
el pinche
Pope before it was married, especially to a
puta
like Harriet. And if that
pinche
Paige found out about my boy…” he trailed off.

It was never proven, but they suspected Paige ordered the drive-by that killed David’s son. “You’re right,” Ernesto said, voice laced with concern. He chewed on his inner jaw as he ran his hand over his short, dark, wavy hair. “I’m about to be the CEO of a company. We’ve always kept my image squeaky clean. Even the drug world doesn’t know I’m your clean-up man. Corporate moguls have wives and children.”

“No!” David choked on his coffee. “Don’t even start.”

“I don’t like this either. I’m a free man. I have no ties, and I don’t want any, but hear me out. I need a wife that looks pretty on the arm, is the perfect hostess and, most importantly, will stay out of my business. From everything you’ve told me about Harriet, all I have to do is toss a little money at her and tell her I love her every once in a while. She’s already pregnant.”

David ran his hands through his short, curly hair. “So you’d raise
mi hijo
.”

“This is the perfect way for you to have your son and keep him hidden from the cartels.” The more David was pressured, the more he would resist, so Ernesto continued eating, allowing his words to sink in.

A second helping of scrambled eggs and bacon later, David grudgingly admitted, “This could work. Yeah, let’s do this shit. ”

“I just need time to figure out what to do with George.”

“He gonna kick her greedy ass out for this shit. I’ll go over and apologize. I’ll tell him I was all emotional and shit after she said she was gonna kill
mi hijo
. Hell,” he chuckled, “when I’m finished, he’ll want to
dot
Harriet’s
eye
. I’ll pay off his bills, and all will be forgiven. Hell yeah!” He clapped his hands. “It’ll work. She’ll make the perfect show piece.”

“If the baby turns out to be George’s, I’ll pay him off to get him to sign over custody. Either way, Harriet will make the perfect trophy wife for my picture-perfect family.”

“That punk ass bastard can’t make no babies.” He grabbed his crotch. “Hell, my troops cancel everybody’s shit out.”

Ernesto chuckled as he brought his coffee cup to his lips and took a sip. The only time Ernesto saw David break down was when his son was murdered. Somehow, that child had done the impossible—touched David’s heart. “What if the baby is yours?”

“What about it?”

“Do you want to be a part of his life or not?”

“Hell no! I’m keeping her ass from killing him. Ain’t that enough? Shit, that ought to be worth a point or two when my ass is whacked.”

David’s words didn’t ring true to Ernesto. Even as children, David believed he’d be dead by the time he was fifty. Ernesto thought this was the reason why he lived life so dangerously. From what Ernesto could tell, this child was his best friend’s way of keeping death from destroying him.

David sighed heavily as he dragged his hands over his face. “I’m not going through that shit again. Hell yeah, I want
mi hijo
, but damn…”

Ernesto saw the pain in David’s black eyes, heard it in his voice. He would never fully recover from the death of his son. Pondering his next move, Ernesto finished his cup of coffee. If he took this child, he could have a part of David’s fire as his own. Ever since David saved Ernesto from Mac, Ernesto felt indebted to him. Raising this child would finally put David in his debt. “We’re doing this, but this child is mine.”

“Hell yeah, it’s yours. What the hell would I do with
un bebé
?” He paused. “I want you to be a hands-on father. Minimal contact with Harriet.”

“Hold up a second. I’m a businessman, not a babysitter. I’ll raise
my
child as I see fit.” David ground his teeth. Ernesto continued, “You know I won’t let Harriet ruin the kid. I’m insisting on full control. This is business. I don’t tell you how to run your part, and you don’t tell me how to run mine.”

“Then maybe I should just kill the
puta
after she has the baby. Her ass is more trouble than it’s worth.”

“No,” Ernesto said calmly though his heart raced. He’d had two mothers taken from him and wouldn’t deny this child a mother. “That would call too much attention to me.” Manipulating Harriet wouldn’t be a problem. Greedy people were so easy to control. “We do this my way.”

David chewed on his thumbnail. “You’re right.” He relaxed. “No blurring of power.” He smacked the table. “This shit’ll work. You’ll see.”

“DEA paid me another visit.”

“They’ll never give up on you. Guilt by association and all. Fuck ’em. They can’t prove shit. I got it covered.” He strummed what was left of his fingernails on the table. “I can’t stand those crooked-assed bastards.”