The Million Dollar Deception Page 15

  Abbey was able to turn up spotty employment records for both of the women, but nothing solid, and no sign that they were working now.

  Abbey had presented this information to Nate yesterday, before he left his office for home.

  “Have you contacted them?” Nate asked, walking with Abbey from the break room back toward his office.

  “I called only to verify a working number and to see if they still resided at the address I had.”

  “And do they?”

  “Yes, Mr. Kenny, they do.”

  Nate stopped, waited for one of his employees to pass before he spoke. “It sounds like they could use some money.”

  Abbey nodded. “Yes it does.”

  “I want you to call them again. I want you to tell them we’re from Chicago, that we have some information that could be financially beneficial to them, and that we’re prepared to fly down and speak with them about it.”

  “Yes, sir. When should I arrange for our travel?”

  “Book the flight for tomorrow morning. That will give me enough time to think about how I can make these two work for us.”

  Abbey closed her cell phone, slid it into the seat-back pocket in front of her.

  “Are they still expecting us?” Nate said.

  “Yes, sir. The mother, Salesha, kept asking, Are they going to get paid? Did they win the lottery or something?”

  Nate laughed a little, thinking to himself, Not the lottery, but if they do what I say, they will get lucky.

  52

  Abbey parked the big rented Buick in front of a dilapidated frame house. Paint peeled from its aging surface, bedsheets hung in the windows, and trash was strewn over the weed-infested front lawn.

  “This is the place?” Nate said with a frown, as he looked through his passenger-side window.

  “It’s the address I have, sir.”

  Nate stepped out of the car, wearing a brown suit and black tie. Abbey exited, wearing a skirt suit that closely matched the color of Nate’s outfit.

  She reached into the backseat, grabbed her briefcase, carried it around the car, and stood beside Nate on the sidewalk.

  “Well,” Nate said.

  A boy wearing a long white T-shirt and a black do-rag whisked between Nate and Abbey on a bike much too small for him.

  Nate continued. “Time to do what we came here for.”

  They walked up the path toward the house, climbed the creaking, rotten wood stairs, and stood on the big front porch. Nate looked for a doorbell but only found two exposed wires snaking out from a small hole.

  He knocked on the door, looked at Abbey, then stood, waiting. Yells of children and a barking dog could be heard in the far-off distance.

  A moment later, the locks on the front door clicked undone. The door opened, and behind it stood a woman wearing a large pink T-shirt, boxer shorts, and fluffy Tasmanian Devil slippers. She ran a hand over her wild hair and said, “You Mr. Kenny?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Nate said. “I’m Mr. Kenny, and this is Ms. Kurt. We phoned you from Chicago to—”

  “Yeah, yeah,” the woman said, smiling, showing the gaps from a couple of missing teeth. She pushed the screen door open. “Come in. Come on in.”

  Half an hour later, Nate and Abbey sat on a soiled living room sofa, drinking Kool-Aid out of plastic cups. The woman who answered the door was Salesha, the mother. Her daughter, Salonica, had been introduced not long after Nate and Abbey entered.

  Salonica was painfully thin. She greeted them wearing skintight blue jeans and a halter top that exposed so much of her midriff that the bottom of her bra could almost be seen. She extended a hand to Nate, every finger adorned with a gaudy silver ring. “Nice to meet you.” Nate took her hand and shook.

  She had brought her two twin girls out to meet the visitors. Salonica stood between them, a hand on each of their shoulders. “This is Lena, and this is Lois.”

  Their hair was parted down the middle of their scalps, pigtails hanging from either side of their heads. They were both pregnant.

  “They doin’ real good in school,” Salonica said. “Because I tell ’em, you don’t keep them grades up, I’m gonna get rid of them babies you carrying faster than you can say free clinic.”

  Nate smiled uncomfortably and took a sip of his Kool-Aid.

  After the girls left, Nate got down to business. He told the women that he knew the man who had dated Selena.

  “Yeah, we know him. Lewis Waters, right?” the mother said.

  “That’s right,” Nate said. “He’s raising your granddaughter, correct?”

  “Yeah. So what?”

  Nate turned to his investigator. “Abbey,” he said.

  Abbey opened her briefcase, pulled out two plane tickets, and handed them to Nate. He then set them on the coffee table before Salesha and Salonica.

  “I want you to fly to Chicago and tell Lewis Waters you want custody of your grandchild.”

  Salesha turned to her daughter, and they both started to laugh.

  “Mr. Kenny,” Salesha said, “do you see the house you walked into? I ain’t holding all the money I have for home repairs because I got it in stocks and bonds. There ain’t no money. That’s why this place look the way it looks. I already got two grandchildren I can’t half feed, and they about to have two more children of they own. What do we need with another mouth around here always begging for food?”

  “He’s not going to give the child to you, Ms. Wells. I can assure you of that. But I want you to ask him all the same. I want you to pressure him, tell him that you believe your daughter died because of him. I want you to tell him that you’ll take him to court, fight for the child if you must. He won’t want to do that, trust me. The little girl is not only very important to him, but instrumental in maintaining the situation he’s in.”

  “So what happens when he keep on telling us no?” Salonica said.

  “You’ll tell him that you can make a deal. You tell him if he gives you thirty thousand dollars, you’ll leave.”

  “Thirty thousand dollars!” The mother practically screamed. “We getting thirty grand! How he gonna get that?”

  “Don’t you worry about it. He’ll find a way, I’m sure. And yes, once he gives you the money, then it’s yours to keep.”

  Both women stood from their chairs, hugged each other, and bounced around the living room, screaming.

  “But it’s up to you,” Nate said, raising his voice over the celebrating women. “You hound him so much that he feels he has no choice but to give you what you want.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry,” Salesha said, out of breath, her heavy breasts heaving under her T-shirt. “Once we roll into Chi-town, all hell gonna break loose.”

  53

  Her jeans around her ankles, her torso bent over the kitchen table, her palms grabbing the edges, Monica gritted her teeth, groaning as Lewis continued to pound himself into her from behind.

  She had already come twice. Her inner thighs were wet with her orgasms, and now she was urging Lewis to finish. Monica pushed back into him, opening herself up, then clamping down around him, trying to squeeze the pleasure out of him. She felt him grab on tight to her, felt his body stiffen, and then he cried out, shooting himself inside her. He slumped over her, huffing and sweating.

  Monica eased out from under him.

  “What are you doing? Don’t,” Lewis said, grabbing her, trying to hold her in place.

  “My legs are tired, standing like that,” Monica said, pulling up her jeans, fastening them. “Besides, Layla might wake up and come down.”

  “You know that girl sleeps hard,” Lewis said, falling onto one of the kitchen chairs, his pants and underwear still around his ankles.

  Monica turned around to see him there, exposed. “Pull your pants up.”

  “Ain’t you gonna get a cloth to clean me up?”

  “What?”

  “C’mon,” Lewis pleaded.

  Monica went to one of the kitchen cabinets, grabbed a clean hand towel,
went to the sink, ran it under cold water, wrung it out, and then slung the twisted cloth at Lewis.

  “Hey!”

  “Wash your own balls!”

  Monica stomped out of the kitchen.

  Lewis yanked up his pants.

  “What’s going on with you?” he said, catching her and taking her by the shoulders.

  “The annual Women in Business Ball is Thursday. Are you going with me?”

  Lewis rolled his eyes, slumped his shoulders, and whined, “Not another one of those things.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Monica said, shaking free of his grip. “Don’t even worry about it.”

  “You know how I am at those things. You gonna have me standing in some corner, looking crazy, while you laughing it up with John, Bill, and Ted, talking about shit I don’t understand.”

  “I said forget it. It’s cool,” Monica said, standing in front of Lewis, her hands on her hips.

  Lewis just stared at her, a guilty look on his face. “Naw, it ain’t cool. You promise me if I go, you won’t leave my side.”

  “I can’t promise you that, and you know it. There are people I have to talk to.”

  “I know.” Lewis sighed, shaking his head. “All right. I’ll go.”

  “Let me know if I need to pay you, or if this is interrupting one of your TV shows.”

  “Damn, Monica, I said I’ll go, alright?”

  “Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule,” Monica said, walking out of the room.

  54

  Man, that’s like the twelfth game in a row I whupped your ass in,” Lewis said to Freddy.

  After his little tiff with Monica, Lewis had stopped at the store, bought a twelve-pack of beer, and headed over to Freddy’s house. They sat in front of the TV, downstairs in his apartment, playing Mortal Kombat.

  “I’m killin you,” Lewis said. “You gonna play, or am I gonna have to spank you a hundred to zero?”

  “It’s almost midnight,” Freddy said. “Ain’t your girl gonna be looking for you?”

  Lewis took a swig of his beer. “Man, we had it out. She wants me to go to some business ball thing to celebrate all the folks who making more money than we are.”

  “What business ball thing?”

  “It’s this annual thing she wants me to go to with her.”

  “When?”

  “Thursday.”

  “Where’s it at?”

  “Why all the questions?” Lewis said. “You want to take my place or something?”

  “Naw. I was just curious.”

  “It’s at the Hilton downtown I think she said.”

  “Oh,” Freddy said, fidgeting with his controller. “So you ain’t gonna go?”

  “You know I don’t want to. But this supposed to be such a big deal, so I told her I would.”

  Freddy grabbed his beer while he stared at Lewis playing the game. “Everything all right with you two?”

  “Same old, same old,” Lewis said, working the controller, not taking his eyes away from the screen. “You know how it goes.”

  “You ever think of leaving Monica?”

  Lewis mashed the pause button on his controller, then turned to Freddy. “What?”

  “I mean, you the one who saying that things are never going right between you two.”

  “I didn’t say never. I said sometimes they ain’t going right. Are things always perfect between you and Kia?”

  “No.”

  “You getting rid of her anytime soon?”

  “Naw,” Freddy said. “But you don’t like going to her work things, you don’t want to hear about her job. Sounds like you might be happier without her. And you never know, you might find somebody who you got more in common with.”

  Lewis put down his game controller, got up from his chair, and sat beside Freddy on the sofa. He looked his friend directly in the face and said, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “What?”

  “You tell me what.”

  Freddy said nothing. Lewis continued to look into Freddy’s eyes, and then he smiled a little. The smiled widened, he laughed, and said, “You fuckin’ with me, right? You fuckin’ with me.”

  Freddy started to smile, forced a phony laugh for Lewis. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m fuckin’ with you.”

  “I thought so,” Lewis said, going back over to his seat.

  The smile quickly left Freddy’s face as he watched Lewis sit back down and take two swallows from his beer.

  “Stop playing games,” Lewis said. “Grab that controller so I can whup your ass some more.”

  55

  Lewis pulled his Land Rover into the garage, clicked the remote, and heard the door roll down behind him. His head was buzzing slightly from the six beers he’d consumed at Freddy’s place, but he felt good. His dash clock read 12:53 A.M., so he figured Monica would be long asleep. He was thankful for that; because she hadn’t rung his cell once that night, Lewis knew she was still mad at him.

  She’ll sleep it off and be fine in the morning, he thought, grabbing the door handle and preparing to step out of the truck when his phone started ringing.

  “Who the hell?” he said, checking the caller ID.

  The screen read PRIVATE.

  “Hello,” Lewis said after flipping the phone open.

  “Lewis,” a strangely familiar woman’s voice said.

  “Who is this, and why you calling my phone at one in the morning?”

  “We just arrived in Chicago on the red-eye.”

  “Who is this?” Lewis said, losing patience.

  “I should take offense that you don’t remember me, boy. This here is Salesha.”

  Lewis closed his eyes, every muscle in his body tightening.

  “You there, Lewis?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Salonica here, too.”

  “Hey, Lewis!” he heard the daughter yell into the phone.

  “What brings you all to Chicago?” Lewis asked.

  “You know I want to see my grandbaby.”

  “Salesha, you can’t just be popping up out of thin air, expecting me to drop everything just so you can see Layla.”

  “Really? Why not?”

  “Because—”

  “Because what? We flew all the way up from St. Louis to see our baby, and we gonna see her. You gonna tell me what time is good tomorrow, or should I come knocking on your door tonight?”

  “You don’t know where I live, Salesha.”

  “You wanna bet I can’t find out?”

  “All right,” Lewis said, stepping out of the truck and slamming the door. “Tomorrow. You have to give me your number so I can call you and tell you when.”

  “That’s all right. We’ll call you first thing in the morning and get that info then. Have a good night, Lewis.”

  “Bye Lewis,” he heard Salonica yell into the phone again.

  “Good-bye,” Lewis said.

  56

  Freddy lay sleeping peacefully in his bed beside Kia when he was suddenly jarred awake by his ringing phone. He flipped in bed and blindly groped for the cell phone on the nightstand.

  “Hello,” he said, his voice groggy as he glanced at his alarm clock. It was 6:00 A.M.

  “Do you have more information for me?” It was Nate on the other end.

  “What? It’s six in the—”

  “I know what time it is. Did you talk to Lewis yesterday? Do you have more information for me?”

  Freddy turned to his side to see if Kia had awakened. She had not. Freddy peeled back the blankets and gingerly slid out of bed.

  “Hold on a minute,” he said.

  He walked through the almost pitch black space into the bathroom, closed the door, and clicked on the light.

  “We talked yesterday,” Freddy said, his hand cupped over the phone, his voice hushed.

  “And…,” Nate said.

  “He was over till after midnight. He and Monica must’ve had a fight or something. She wanted him to go t
o some dinner party gala thing, and he doesn’t want to go.”

  “When?” Nate said, sounding very interested.

  “On Thursday.”

  “Where?”

  “The Hilton on Michigan.”

  There was silence for a long moment while Nate thought this over.

  “Mr. Kenny?” Freddy said after waiting another moment.

  “You said the two of you watch sports. Does he watch basketball?”

  “Yeah,” Freddy said, as though the question was a stupid one.

  “The Chicago Bulls play this Thursday at home, do they not?”

  “I think they’re playing against the Lakers.”

  “Would he rather do that than go to this gala Monica is asking about?” Nate asked.

  “Who wouldn’t?” Freddy said, thinking he heard movement outside in the bedroom. He moved as far away from the door as he could.

  “When you speak to him today, tell him you have tickets.”

  “But I don’t.”

  “You will. And make sure he goes.”

  57

  Shortly after eleven o’clock that morning, Monica sat behind the elevated reception station of her store.

  Tabatha stood beside her, ringing out a customer she’d sold three suits to.

  “That’s right,” Monica said, continuing what she was saying after the customer paid for his purchases. “I don’t even know what time he came in last night. But I know when I rolled over and last looked at the clock, it was twelve thirty and he wasn’t back yet.”

  “So you think he’s sleepin’ around on you?” Tabatha quickly said. “I knew you couldn’t trust—”