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Authors: Deatri King Bey

BOOK: Caught Up (Indigo Vibe)
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“Okay. Just thought I’d mention it.” He paused. “About Harriet, how will I contact her?”

“I’ll bet your ass she calls me. I’m tellin’ you,
Jorge
is gonna kick her ass out. She has nowhere to go. All she cares about
es dinero
, and her pride will keep her from returnin’ to
Jorge
until she’s desperate. She’ll call or end up at Tony’s to try and seduce me into taking her back.”

“Tony’s?”

“Yeah, that new spot I’ve been hangin’ at over in Wrigleyville.” He looked around the average sized kitchen. “These luxury apartments are great and all for a bachelor, but if you gonna be with Harriet, she’s gonna want a big-ass mansion.” He stretched his arms out. “Really big.”

“I have someone who’s into me for about a mil. His family doesn’t know about his gambling habit. I’m sure he’d give me a great price on his estate.”

“What the?” David leaned forward, head tilted and brows furrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have made sure that
chimba
paid you. A million? Hell naw! You can’t let that shit slide.”

Unaffected, Ernesto continued, “I’ll be able to use him someday. He’s a senior vice president over at Diligent Telecommunications.”

“That Caldwell guy you told me about?”

“Yep, that’s him.”

“Oh.” David relaxed his small frame in his seat. “As usual, you have the shit under control.”

CHAPTER THREE

Florida, Present Day

David turned his back to the corrections officer and allowed him to unshackle his hands. “This is fuckin’ unbelievable. You’re actually gonna leave me alone in a room with a woman. I should have paid for this shit years ago.” A death row inmate, David wasn’t allowed contact with his visitors except Alton and Samson. Not that anyone visited him besides his lawyer and the agents.

The officer chuckled. “Hell, I’m being paid a grip, but not enough to be caught on tape. The leg irons stay on. Hurry up.” He opened the door.

* * *

“You look like shit!” David couldn’t believe Harriet had let herself go so badly. He could get past the filthy, baggy clothes and burgundy wig she wore as a disguise, but her eyes had washed-out-drunk swimming in them. And she smelled like a distillery. He’d bet she sweated two hundred proof.

Harriet’s tight smile looked as if it would crack. “We don’t have time for pleasantries, dead man. Our child’s in trouble, and you’re going to help me save her.” She tugged the ragged sleeve of her denim shirt up and checked her watch.

Panic sent his heart racing, and the small room felt like it was caving in on him, but he forced himself to maintain control. “Why the hell would I help you?”

“Because we’re both fuck-ups, and she’s in danger we placed her in.” She strummed her nails on the metal tabletop. “She’s more than earned her inheritance. If I go to the authorities, she’ll lose everything. No. You have to do one good deed before you die.”

Harriet may have changed physically, but he noticed she was still about the money. “Your ass always needs money. Tell me something new. What danger?”

“I’m not saying shit until you ensure my financial security.”

“What the fuck?” He hopped up from the table, the chains about his legs rattling. “You said our child is in danger! Your ass is still fucked the hell up!”

She tapped her watch with the tip of her nail. “I don’t have time for this, David,” she said through clenched teeth. “I risk everything coming here because I love her. But, I’m realistic. I need money to survive. I should have spoken up years ago when you first approached me.”

“Fine.” He smacked the back of his chair. He’d suspected Ernesto set things in motion for him to end up on death row, but he couldn’t have his lifelong friend murdered on a hunch. He’d spent years searching for the truth. The truth pointed to David making a mistake of arrogance and Ernesto continuing with business as usual. Ernesto even saw to the change of power in the cartel when David received the death sentence. He followed David’s orders to a “T”, except that Ernesto kept none of the power for himself. At the time, David was disappointed, but not surprised. Ernesto never wanted the cartel. He got off on the juice he received from being associated with David, and only continued laundering because they were so close and David didn’t trust anyone else with his money.

“I’ll make arrangements for your financial security. My ass is dead anyway. Now tell me what you know.” He grabbed his metal folding chair and set it next to hers. “Speak quietly. You never know who’s listening.”

She quickly looked around the small room, resituated her wig and huddled close to him. “He came from your room after the graduation ceremony, enraged,” she whispered. “He said after all of these years you wanted her back, and he wasn’t giving her up. He wouldn’t let the drug life have her. A month before she returned from Europe, you were arrested for murder.”

David remembered him and Ernesto celebrating Rosa’s graduation from college perfectly. He’d gotten drunk and said lots of things he didn’t mean to follow through on. He pushed away from the table.
“Hijo de puta!”

He’d clung to the reports of Ernesto’s innocence because he couldn’t bring himself to admit his lifelong friend, the man whose life he’d saved time and time again, the man he’d trusted to raise his child and handle his money, would betray him like this. Why hadn’t Ernesto come to him for clarification when David was sober? Didn’t Ernesto owe him at least that?
This shit must end!

He drew in several breaths and released them slowly. Harriet hated Ernesto so much that she would lie, and she hadn’t said what “danger” Rosa was in. In his heart he knew Ernesto loved Rosa and would never hurt her, and if Ernesto did set him up, it was because he was protecting Rosa. He smiled internally. They’d changed a lot over the years. All and all, none of this mattered. Rosa deserved to know the truth. “I’ll take care of everything.”

Harriet’s lifeless hazel eyes sparked to life. “Very good.” She peeked at her watch. “My time’s almost up.” She stood to leave.

“Clean yourself up.”

She rolled her eyes as she quickly exited the room.

David, hands re-shackled behind his back, shuffled along the darkened corridor with his guard escort. “How would you like to make a quick hundred grand?”

“It depends on what I have to do,” the guard replied.

“If you can get me a disposable phone within twenty-four hours, the money is yours.” David always used throwaway phones when he didn’t want his calls traced or bugged.

“Two hundred grand.”

“A million if you hand me a disposable phone within five minutes.”

The guard stopped in his tracks and looked around for eavesdroppers. Harriet’s money had ensured they were alone. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

He was just as serious as when he’d decided to allow Ernesto to raise Rosa. Ernesto had tried to convince him that the baby might not be his. He’d reminded David that Harriet wasn’t the most faithful of women. But David knew in his heart the baby was his. It had to be. He could see himself lying across his bed after he’d broken the news to Ernesto…

Chicago, thirty-one years ago

First his whorish mother tried to destroy him, then the foster care system tried to destroy him, then society tried to destroy him. He dragged his hands over his face. His rivals thought by killing his son that they’d destroy him, and now this. David closed his eyes. The baby Harriet carried was a part of him. He wouldn’t allow her to destroy him or his son.

He reached into his back jeans pocket and pulled out his wallet. Lying on his stomach, he sorted through the scraps of paper he found in the slits. He unfolded a picture of him holding his three-year-old son and hugging the love of his life, Rosa.

He brushed his thumb over Rosa’s image. She’d survived the drive-by physically, but died emotionally. He couldn’t let the world know Harriet was carrying his child. He smiled, knowing he’d be having another son. This time, he’d do it right.

Using Ernesto would be perfect. This way David would have access to his son without the drug world ever discovering his secret. Then when his son was older, he could run the cartel at his real father’s side. And if Ernesto ever got out of line—David folded the photo—he’d be handled. He replaced the picture, then stuffed his wallet into his back pocket.

* * *

Samson and Alton circled the desk officer like sharks around prey. He’d already said the mistake was his fault, but the agents weren’t satisfied. The heavyset warden leaned on his desk with one hock on the edge of his desk and one foot on the floor as he watched the agents debrief the officer.

“Let me get this straight,” Samson said. “You
forgot
to call Warden Jackson when Ernesta Wells signed in?”

“This mindless ass thinks we’re as stupid as him.” Alton poked the officer in the center of his forehead. “How much were you paid?”

The officer wiped the sweat from his brow, then gripped the arms of the chair. “I wasn’t paid. I swear.”

“You should have been, because when I finish with your ass, you won’t find employment anywhere,” Alton snapped.

The officer avoided eye contact with Samson and Alton, but looked with pleading into the warden’s eyes. “We go way back. My record is clean. I only have a year until retirement. You know me. I made an honest mistake. Please, don’t let them do this to me.”

“I’ll vouch for him,” the warden relented as he heaved his leg off the desk and approached the officer. “But, I’m suspending you without pay for three months. Now get.”

The agents watched the officer scurry out. “He wouldn’t have told us shit anyway,” Alton said. “I’m still having his ass watched though. I want every guard associated with David changed. Their asses are on the take.”

“May we have some privacy, Warden?” Samson asked.

“Sure. I’ll have the guards changed immediately.” He left the agents alone.

Samson popped in the video of the mystery woman into the VCR. “I don’t recognize her from our files. What about you?”

“Nope. And what’s this shit about their child? He had a son, right? He was killed in a drive-by. They must be talking in code.”

Samson smoothed down his goatee. “Can we crack the code before we run out of time? What about the taxi service she took?”

“I’m checking into it. With our luck, we’ll hit another dead end. Same for her fingerprints.”

“I need to speak with David.”

“I know you’re his buddy-buddy and all,” Alton said with an overdose of sarcasm, “but he’s about to go on the warpath. You need to step back and watch his every move. He’ll slip up.”

Samson sat at the warden’s desk, thumbing through a file on David, writing all of the names associated with David on a notepad. “What are we missing? Who would know about a child, his child, his daughter?”

“There ain’t no daughter. Daughter’s a codename. I’m having extra cameras placed every damned place and wiring them to our office in Miami.”

Ignoring Alton, Samson began crossing names out. “Who would he trust?” He continued eliminating names when one name yelled at him. The same name that David had plastered all over his cell.

“I’ve figured it out.”

“What?”

“The code.”

“Well, hot damn. Lay it on me.” Alton rolled an office chair from the conference table to the desk.

“Ernesta was talking about Rosa, the mother of David’s child. She disappeared soon after the baby was killed. I’ll bet David put her in hiding.”

“Sorry, man, but there’s no way in hell he’s still protecting Rosa. Her ass cracked up after the kid was killed. He isn’t the type to stand by his woman through thick and thin.” Alton stood to leave. “I’m checking in with the taxi service. Maybe they have something for us.”

“I’m visiting David.”

“Suit yourself, but it’s a waste of time we don’t have.”

* * *

David set the stack of typing paper to the side, then leaned against the wall and pulled his feet up on the bunk.

By the time Rosa earned her masters degree, he’d grown tired of hiding in the audience while she showered Ernesto with the affection that should be for him. Her strong personality rivaled his. He could see her being not only the first big-time female drug lord, but also the drug lord of the largest syndicate. He lowered his head to his knees. Those were only drunken dreams that he had never really considered. He looked at the bars. He’d given her to Ernesto to save her from the life and, at the time, save her from himself.

If there were only a way to see her one last time before I die.

An anxious chuckle escaped him. The knowledge of impending death was a mind-altering event. His priorities had changed since he was assigned his death date. Now all that mattered was Rosa. If the drug world discovered her identity, they’d never believe that she wasn’t involved. He’d die before he allowed another of his children to be destroyed by the drug world. He regretted giving her to Ernesto, but he couldn’t go back. The call he’d made a few minutes ago would ensure her safety once he was gone. Only the truth would protect her.

He heard someone with a long, even stride approaching. It had to be Samson. He heard a second set of footsteps, but he didn’t recognize the stutter-step rhythm.

The new guard let Samson into David’s cell, then left.

“Where’s that lanky-assed bastard you call your partner?” he asked in Spanish.

Samson grinned. “He said to tell you he misses you.” He sat on the opposite end of the bunk, which creaked from his weight. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

David considered Samson. He was young, single, honest, and actually a good person, so how the hell did he allow Alton to convince him to join the DEA? Samson had been visiting him twice a week for the past year. David knew the game. Samson’s assignment was to befriend David. He’d never admit it to Samson, but over the months David began looking forward to the visits. It helped relieve some of the boredom and loneliness.

“You just gonna sit there or you got somethin’ to say?”

“I thought I’d just sit here.”

“Suit yourself, smart-ass. You got somethin’ to write with?” His pen had run out of ink, and he wanted to sign the pictures he’d drawn. Even as a child, drawing had calmed David.

Samson handed him an ink pen and resumed his resting position. David didn’t know if Samson was brave or stupid. He could kill Samson with the pen, and what could they do to him? Send him to death row? There was no way Alton would have lowered his guard. He smiled internally. Samson knew that he didn’t have anything to worry about. Somehow, the jerk had become a friend of sorts.

He took the stack of typing paper and signed the top picture, which was a rose. He’d missed his little girl’s thirtieth birthday. He closed his eyes, this time praying to see her again.

“Where’s Rosa?” Samson asked.

David coughed violently. His sketches dropped to the floor, the pages scattering. He hopped off the bunk and bent to retrieve them.

“If you give us Sierra, I’ll ensure no one harms your lover. Just tell me where she is.”

“My lover?” David quickly gathered the pages, laughing. “My lover!”

Samson picked up the last stray page and displayed the rose design to David. “It’s too late. I’ve already seen your reaction. Who’s threatening her?”

David snatched the page. “You don’t know shit.” He returned to the bed and leaned against the wall as if it would fall if he moved. Ernesto had been correct; naming Rosa after his lover was a stupid move.

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