She had found out that the health records request had been faxed from the Fairmont Hotel in the West End neighborhood of DC. She had not heard back from the doctor's office on the phone call, but intended to call them again today and remind them of her threat to sue them. She had contacted the hotel but had gotten nowhere. She was going to have to hire someone, someone who would be willing to break the law if that was what it took to get the job done, to get more information.
She had pretty much ignored Justin when he'd gotten home. She was afraid he would notice she was terrified and also afraid that he still might be behind this and she would give away that she knew something. She didn't trust him. She was barely functioning at this point. She knew she should care because this was her test for Northman, but too much was at stake.
And seeing Erica standing there didn't make things better. She ached to tell her what she was going through, but she didn't. Right now, her girls were the only people in her world she could trust, and she didn't want to risk losing them.
“What do you need me to do?” Erica asked, noticing that Sherise had a frantic look in her eyes. “Hey, are you okay?”
“No, I'm not. The photographer took forever to get here. I lost my phone and . . .”
She looked down at the phone and realized that Justin had tried to call her twice, but did not leave a message. What did he want? Had he found out she was investigating who wanted her medical records? Had the doctor's office screwed up again and contacted him? What did heâ
“Sherise!” Erica snapped her fingers in front of her face. “What's going on with you?”
Sherise blinked, trying to focus again. “It's just crazy around here. Look, I need you to pose for some pictures. We need to add some more diversity to the images we want to use for the Web site. So can youâ”
“I'm just here to make it seem like Northman has a diverse staff?” Erica frowned, placing her hands on her hips. “Good thing you didn't tell me beforehand. I would have saidâ”
“Can you just not judge for five seconds and help me out?”
“Yes,” Erica responded. “And I can also turn around and walk out.”
Sherise sighed. “Erica, I just need you to help me out today.”
“That's what I'm here for.” Erica was confused. Sherise was usually game for their back and forth, but seemed unable to keep up this time. “What can I do?”
Sherise pointed to the woman standing on the ballroom stage. “That woman in the red dress is Eden Gale. She's the event manager. She'll tell you what she needs help with. Then let me know, so I can send the photographer.”
“Fine,” Erica said. She turned toward the stage, but remembered something and turned back. “I have a condition.”
Sherise sighed. “I'm gonna strangle you.”
Erica laughed. “Terrell gets to come with me tomorrow night.”
“No,” Sherise protested immediately. “Absolutely not.”
Erica placed her hands on her hips. “If I come, he's coming.”
“Then you don't come.” Sherise pointed at her. “You're not even invited. This is a fund-raiser at twenty-five hundred dollars a person. You're only coming as a friend of mine. One poor person at this party is enough.”
“Fuck you, I'm not poor. I want him there with me.”
“He wouldn't even enjoy it, Erica. This is not his element. Besides, there will be metal detectors outside.”
“Bitch.” Erica socked her in the arm. “You're not funny.”
Sherise couldn't believe it, but she found a way to smile. “Seriously, Erica. This is my chance to prove myself to Northman. Don't do this to me.”
“He'll be on his best behavior,” Erica said. “He would never do anything to upset me. Not now, especially since he's moving back in. He wouldn't mess that up by embarassâ”
“Moving back in?” Sherise shook her head. “You are the most backwards-moving bitch I have ever met in my life. You could have moved on.”
“There is no moving on,” Erica said. “Not without Terrell. At least not for me. You need to face it, Sherise. Terrell is coming with me tomorrow night. He's back in my life and there is a chance that Jonah might be, too. Deal with it.”
Before Sherise could protest, Erica had turned and headed off. Erica bringing up the possibility of Jonah in her life made Sherise wonder. Was the latest nightmare in her life connected to him? He had threatened her the last time they talked, when he thought she knew about his real relationship with Erica. Was this his threat, merely delayed, playing itself out?
Jonah was a powerful man, one of the most powerful in the country. If he wanted information to hurt someone, he could get it. If he wanted a social security number, he could get it. Hell, he could manufacture it if he wanted to. He could destroy lives as a hobby, if he wanted to.
She thought she was safe. They had planned the situation right. If Jonah even hinted at following through on his threats to her or Terrell, Erica would cut him out of her life. But hadn't she done that? After what Sherise had just heard her say, obviously that wasn't the case.
Whatever the truth was, Sherise could hope only that Jonah wasn't behind this, because if he was, she was outgunned. This man had the power to ruin her life.
9
S
aturn House was a modest old home that resembled a bed-and-breakfast one might find in the country, but with a modern twist. The design of the home reflected the cultures of the people who had called it home for temporary periods of time. These weren't cheap pieces of clay or pottery one might find at a flea market or a museum gift shop. The rugs, the paintings, the wooden sculptures and ceramic bowls that adorned the three-floor home had been contributed by people who brought these things with them to America.
Billie loved that about this place, and as her formal tour, given to her by Ricky, was coming to a close, she got a very warm feeling about the home. She could also tell how much Ricky loved this place and how much the people who were living there now respected him.
She felt silly now, having thought of coming here to discover something about Ricky that would confirm her worries. This man was no drug dealer. He was a strong brother committed to his community. That, and he looked dangerously sexy in jeans and a black turtleneck just tight enough to define his muscular body.
The last hour had gone by quickly. Ricky showed her around the shelter, but they had never been alone. People were coming and going out of the rooms and hanging out in the living area. Twin eight-year-old boys followed them around most of the time. It was a nice distraction. But now, the two of them stood alone in the kitchen, and Billie was suddenly aware of her attraction to him. She kept her distance, standing against the refrigerator as he leaned back against the large sink.
“What?” he asked, studying her. “What is that look?”
“What look?” Billie laughed girlishly. She didn't have the best poker face.
“You need to loosen up, Billie.”
“I thought I was loosening up.” She realized he was heading right for the refrigerator and quickly stepped aside. “I've enjoyed myself.”
“You were enjoying yourself.” He opened the refrigerator door and reached for two cans of soda. “You were real up until a minute ago. Now, you've tightened up. You're all business again.”
He offered her a can of soda.
“Well, this trip was business,” she said. “I'm fighting to help you save this shelter. It's essential I know what I'm fighting for.”
“Is that the truth?” he asked, his expression not hiding his skepticism. “Working here, I've come to read people real well. You have to learn how to do that quickly around here.”
“What are you reading from me?” She was starting to fidget.
“You wanna ask me something,” he said. “You're itching to. We're alone now.”
She felt her body begin to tighten up as he took a few steps toward her.
“So ask,” he said, stopping only a foot from her.
She took a deep breath. “I do need to ask you about what goes on out there.”
He turned to where she was pointing, out the back door.
“The alley?” he asked, smiling. “It's an alley. What goes on in every alley? What are you talking about?”
“Can we step out there for a second?”
Ricky seemed confused at first, and Billie could sense that he was somewhat offended, but he hid it quickly.
“You wanna go in the alley?” he asked. “It's pretty dirty out there.”
“I'm not afraid of dirt,” she said.
“That suit you have on probably cost four hundred dollars. You don't want it to get dirty.”
“This one is due for the dry cleaner's anyway.” She was curious as to why he seemed reluctant. It made her only want to go out there more.
“Well, then,” he said. “Follow me.”
She followed him to the back door. He unlocked it and opened it for her. She stepped through the door and into the alley, which was wider than most she had seen in this part of the city.
“This isn't that dirty,” she said, turning to him as he stood in the doorway.
“Just be careful,” he said, looking around.
“I heard this neighborhood was turning around,” she said. “Isn't that why Sanders Realty is buying everything up around here?”
“It's still sketchy in parts,” he answered. “But look, Billie, if you expected to see a drug deal, you're gonna be out of luck.”
“Why would you ask me that?”
He laughed. “That's what you want to know about, isn't it? You've heard rumors.”
“Are they just rumors?” she asked, walking closer to the corner. She could see directly across the street on Channing Street: 2812 Channing Street was in clear view of the alley. Etta Gladstone's apartment was on the second floor of 2812 Channing Street. She had a direct view.
“What are you looking at?”
Billie jumped and turned around to face Ricky, who was standing only inches behind her. She had no idea he had gotten that close. She was looking straight into his curious eyes and she felt a tingling sensation run through her. She was a little frightened and a little turned on at the same time.
“You scared me,” she finally said once she found her voice.
“Sorry.” His brows centered with curiosity. “You seemed particularly interested in something.”
“No, I . . .” Billie took a few steps back. “I was just looking around.”
“Billie I know what you're thinking,” he said. “Yes, there is some drug activity around here. I've actually seen it happen in this alley. I don't want trouble for the shelter, so I don't snitch. You see, if someone gets mad at me, it's not just me I have to worry about. I have families here.”
“So you just mind your own business?” she asked.
“I do my best to make sure they don't feel welcomed, but my priority is keeping the people in the shelter safe.”
“I've heard rumors about a twenty-something African-American man by the name of Ralphy or Randy or something doing deals around here. Do you know this guy?”
He squinted, looking away for a second, then shook his head. “A black man named Ralphy?”
Billie smiled. “I'm being serious.”
“I mean I know a few Ray Rays and a Ray Dog, but not a Ralphy.”
“Stop playing.”
She pushed against his chest in an unintentional move, but regretted it the second she did. Feeling his tight muscles against her hand as she failed to move him even an inch elicited a reaction from her. Before she could remove her hand, he grabbed it with his own, keeping it pressed against him.
“Ricky,” she said, feeling frightened and excited. “Don't.”
“Don't what?” he asked, stepping closer to her. They were only a couple of inches away. “You smell like a fresh summer morning.”
“It's the dry cleaner's scent on my clothes,” she said. “Now let my handâ”
“I thought you said this suit was due for the dry cleaner's?” He kept his hand right where it was, over hers against his chest. “So you lied. This suit is perfectly clean.”
“Ricky.” She tried to look away, but the charming smile that formed at his lips compelled her eyes to stay on him.
“Well,” he said, leaning in. “If it's going to the dry cleaner's anyway, we should try and get it a little dirty to get your money's worth.”
Billie jumped with a little scream as the phone in her pants pocket began to ring. She was grateful for the scare because it allowed her the strength to move away from Ricky. She looked at him as she reached for her phone and could see the disappointment on his face. What had she almost done? She couldn't be this foolish.
“I have to take this,” she said, as if she had to offer an explanation. “It's work.”
It wasn't work. It was Sherise, but Billie didn't care. Sherise had probably just saved her from making one of the biggest mistakes of her life.
“Hello?”
“What have you got for me?” Sherise asked, her voice clearly agitated.
“What do you mean?”
“On Justin!”
“I . . . um . . .” Billie was trying to clear her head. “Nothing right now, but I'm working on it.”
“Billie, I'm counting on you.”
Sherise was relying on Billie to get her Justin's work schedule, and after a lot of begging and pleading, she had promised to try her best to let Sherise know when her husband was going to be out of the office.
“Yes,” Billie continued, ignoring Sherise. “I can get on that right now. I'll be back in the office in ten minutes. Yeah . . . Okay . . . 'Bye.”
She hung up and turned back to Ricky, who hadn't moved from where he'd been standing.
“I have to go,” she said. She headed for the back door of the shelter, keeping a good distance between them as she walked past. “I'm sorry. I really did enjoy the tour.”
“Billie!”
She turned around and he was still standing there. He had an impatient look on his face.
“You gonna just walk away from that?” he asked, his voice hinting at his disappointment.
Billie thought at first to play it off, but she knew better. “That isn't gonna happen, Ricky. You're my client. It's just . . . not gonna happen. I have to go.”
She didn't wait for a response as she rushed into the house. She couldn't get out of there fast enough.
Â
Erica was in her bedroom, still with curlers in her hair, when she heard noises in the living area. Even in just the slip she was going to wear under her dress later that night, she rushed out of her bedroom to confront Nate.
“Where the hell have you been?” she asked as she entered the room.
Nate, wearing jeans and a white T-shirt that looked like it needed to be cleaned badly, was leaning into the open refrigerator. He looked up in response to Erica's demanding question. She noticed right away that something was wrong with him. His eyes seemed . . . glossy.
“What the fuck, Erica? Put some clothes on.”
“You haven't been here for three days! I was worried sick about you.”
“I'm a grown-ass man.” He slammed the refrigerator door shut and reached for the box of cereal on top. “I don't need to tell you where I've been.”
“Three days, Nate!”
“And the world is still spinning. Who would have thought?”
“We need to talk.”
“I'm all talked out, Sis!” He grabbed a handful of cereal and stuffed it in his mouth.
“Then I'll talk,” she said. “Terrell is moving back in.”
He stopped chewing and looked at her. He hadn't expected this. “What?”
“He's moving back in this weekend.”
“That is fucked up,” Nate said.
“Why would you say that?”
“You don't want to do that, Sis.”
“Why not?”
Nate just shook his head. “You gotta make your own mistakes. Imma move out soon anyway.”
“Move out?” she asked. “And go where? And what's with your attitude about Terrell? After everything he's done for you. He got you this new job.”
“Fuck that job.”
“Are you high?” she asked, walking up to him. She grabbed him by the arm and turned him to face her. “What is wrong with your eyes?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Let me go.”
“I swear to God, Nate, if you've taken something, I willâ”
“Do nothing,” he said. “You ain't gonna do nothing to me.”
Erica gasped as he pushed her away and she fell back against the kitchen counter.
“Nate! You almost pushed me down!”
“You deserve it!” he yelled. “You're not my mother, Erica. Lay off.”
He stormed right past her as if she wasn't even there. It took Erica a few minutes to get herself together, but the second she did, she noticed that he had left his phone on the kitchen counter. She didn't know what else to do. She checked his calls and realized that the last ten calls he had made were to his ex-girlfriend, Kelly.
She pressed redial.
“What the fuck do you want now?” Kelly's irritated voice asked immediately.
“Kelly, it's not Nate. It's Erica.”
“Oh . . . Well, hi, Erica. Why are you calling from Nate's phone? I almost didn't answer.”
“Why does he keep calling you?”
“Because he's messed up, that's why. I wish you would tell him to leave me the fuck alone.”
“He just called you ten times in a row. Did he mention anything? I'm desperate, Kelly. I want to help him, but I don't know what the hell is going on in his life.”