After Dark (4 page)

R
on got up from the edge of the desk as the two men came through the door. He knew who they were before they opened their mouths. They all looked the same, so inconspicuous that you'd have to be blind not to see they were government men.

“Can I help you?” Ron asked.

The first man took off his prerequisite sunglasses. “I'm Agent Jennings and this is Agent Collins.”

Ali came to stand next to Ron. “You guys are pretty far away from home.” He folded his arms across his broad chest.

“Local business. We're looking for Ron Powers.” Agent Jennings focused on Ron, knowing it was him by his photo, even though the picture was an old one. He hadn't changed much over the years.

“I'm Ron Powers. What can I do for you?”

“It's been brought to our attention that you were a former member of the Black Panther Party.”

“That was a long time ago. I was a kid. What about it?”

“Old enough to get arrested.”

“Your point.”

“It's also been brought to our attention that you have a supplier that has connections to the Middle East.”

Ali dropped his arms and took a step forward. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Ron backed him up with his arm.

“No need to get nasty,” agent number two chimed in.

Ali cut the agent a look.

“I don't know what you're talking about and, if my supplier does have these alleged connections, I don't have anything to do with that.”

“That's where you're wrong,” Agent Jennings said.

“We want to take a look at your books and your employee list,” Agent Collins said.

“You got a warrant?”

Jennings tightened his face. “It won't be a problem to get one if you force us to go that route.”

“No force. Just citizens' rights. What's left of them,” Ron tossed back.

“It's really best if you don't make this more difficult than it is,” said Collins. “You'll make us start thinking you have something to hide.”

“Go get your warrant,” Ali challenged.

“What's your name?” Collins asked.

“Malcolm X.”

“Very funny. We'll be back—with a warrant,” Collins said.

“You do that.” Ron watched them leave before kicking his chair clear across the room. It slammed against the wall and flipped over. He threw his hands up in the air and began turning in a slow circle. “What the hell was that?” He stuck his arm out toward the door then ran his hands across his head. “I don't believe this crap. The Panthers, I was seventeen damned years old.” He looked toward the ceiling. “I know they've never stopped watching and listening. I've seen the ‘unmarked' cars from time to time, the clicks on my phone line. But they've never approached me—accused me of something.”

“Look, man, you have nothing to hide.”

“I know I don't,” he snapped. He blew out a breath.

“If they are really investigating and not just trying to give you a hard time, my name is eventually going to come up.”

Ron looked at him. “And?”

“Hey, man, you know my slate ain't clean, especially from back in the day.”

Ron waved off his concern. “We'll deal with it.” He lowered himself into an upright chair. “We need to go through our records. Check our Philly supplier.”

“Yeah, and, in the meantime, I suggest you get a lawyer. Just in case.”

“You're right. Everybody is so paranoid, these days, there's no telling what those fools might cook up.” He slammed his fist down on the desk. “Dammit!”

“Do you have an attorney?”

“Do I look like the kind of guy that keeps an attorney at the end of a phone…just in case?”

“All right, all right, look, we need to find someone.”

“Yeah. Hey, Ellie's friend, Ann Marie, her guy is an attorney.”

“Can you call him?”

“I'm sure Ellie can get a number for me.”

He got up and went to the phone. He dialed the spa, expecting Elizabeth to pick up, but he got Barbara, instead.

“
Pause for Men,
how can I help you? Barbara speaking.”

“Hi, Barbara, it's Ron. Can I speak to Ellie?”

Barbara winced. “She's not here right now. Can I give her a message?”

Ron checked his watch. It was barely eleven. “Did she say where she was going or how long she was going to be?”

Barbara started to respond but divine intervention let her off the hook.

“Uh, never mind, I'll call her on her cell. Thanks, Barbara.” He hung up and dialed Elizabeth's cell phone. It rang and rang until it went into voice mail. Ron frowned. “Hey, Ell, it's me. Listen, can you give me a call as soon as possible. It's important. Thanks.”

Ali returned from the back storage room. “Did you get her?”

“Naw,” he said absently, his mind turning in a direction he didn't want to go in. “Left a message for her on her cell.”

Ali angled his head to the side. “You cool?”

Ron looked up. “Yeah, yeah. Look, we need to head on over to the construction site.”

“Right. Ready when you are.”

Ron got his bag, turned off the lights and set the alarm.

Where was Elizabeth?

 

Elizabeth pulled her car to a stop in front of Matt's apartment, after stopping at the pharmacy to drop off his prescription for antibiotics and pain killers. She'd never been to his new place, and sitting in front of where he now called home was a rude awakening.

During the months of their separation, she'd initially remained in the home, which they'd lived in for more than a decade. After the sale of the house, she'd moved into the apartment above the spa, leaving her life with Matt behind her. Now she was reminded of how far they'd come.

“Thanks,” he said, once she'd put the car in Park.

“Can you make it from here?”

“I think so.” He dared to look at her. “You want to come in for a minute?”

“I really don't think that's a good idea, Matt.”

“Look, we're both adults. I'm not some horny teen that's going to try to get in your pants as soon as you shut the door. Besides, I couldn't, anyway. The least I can do is offer you something to drink.”

She pursed her lips in thought. She could tell that as hard as he was trying, he was uncomfortable. What harm could it do? He was still a little shaky in her estimation and she'd never forgive herself if she simply drove off and something happened to him. And someone was going to have to go back to the pharmacy when his prescriptions were ready and Matt certainly wasn't up to it.

“All right. But just for a few minutes—until you get settled. I'll pick up your medicine and then I really have to go.”

“Deal.” He opened the door and gingerly got out of the car.

She got out after him, set the alarm on her car and followed him into the turn-of-the-century apartment building.

The lobby was something right out of a movie set, with chandeliers hanging from cathedral ceilings, swirling marble floors and gleaming elevators. There was even a horseshoe-shaped desk, shined to such a high gloss that you could see your reflection, and a clerk behind it, complete with a brilliant red jacket with gold buttons and braiding.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Lewis,” the clerk greeted.

“Afternoon, Milton.”

“I have a package for you, sir.” He leaned down behind the desk and handed Matt a large box from Fed Ex.

Elizabeth hurried over and took the box from Matt, giving the clerk a short smile. “Thanks,” she murmured.

“Milton, this is my—” he shot Elizabeth a glance “—wife, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest, but held her tongue.

“Pleasure to meet you, finally, Mrs. Lewis.”

“Thank you.”

Matthew moved toward the elevator. Elizabeth was hot on his heels. But she wouldn't make a scene. At least, not here.

The doors swooshed open.

“I'm on nine,” Matthew said, depressing the button.

Elizabeth fumed.

The bell dinged, the doors opened and they stepped out into a lush corridor with carpeting so thick it make the walkway soundproof.

“I'm at the end of the hall, facing the river, actually. Pretty good view,” he rambled, fishing for his keys in his pockets.

He opened the door and stepped aside to let Elizabeth pass. She was immediately impressed.

The small foyer with cushioned benches on either side of the archway opened onto the main room, which was straight out of a magazine. Classy, sleek, yet personal. She wasn't sure what she'd expected but it wasn't this. A part of her had hoped that it would be a hovel, dirty clothes and dishes everywhere, the scent of old socks in the air. But it was nothing like that.

The windows arched halfway around the room and the treatment was simple Roman shades in off-white. The furniture was minimal but, she could tell by looking, that it was expensive. The design was a combination of old and new, which gave the room a unique feel. Antique tables embraced a low oxblood leather sectional that could easily seat ten, two swag lamps teased the tiffany shades of tabletop lighting. On the far wall of the room was an entertainment center that looked like the deck of a spaceship with all the lights and gadgets. Then, on the right side, was an intimate dining area. He even had fresh flowers as a centerpiece.

“I'll show you around,” he said, after giving her a moment to take in the room. “The kitchen is through that door.” The door was virtually invisible when it was closed, blending in perfectly with the décor and the paint.

He pushed open the door to the kitchen. It was small, but state of the art. Everything was stainless steel, from the high-tech oven with the glass range top, to the refrigerator, dishwasher and garbage disposal. The island counter space could be used for food preparation as well as eating.

“The guest bathroom is this way.” He pushed through another invisible door that led to a small anteroom that had built-in cabinets on either side. The bathroom was just as fabulous as the rest of the house, complete with Jacuzzi. “My office is down the hall.” He opened the door and showed her his workroom. Sleek and stylish and surprisingly neat. “The master bedroom and bath is on the other side of the hallway.”

He turned to her. “That's the grand tour.”

“Very nice. If I didn't know better, I'd swear you had a woman living with you.”

He chuckled lightly. “Then, I'm sure you wouldn't believe I did this all myself,” he said, leading her back to the front of the apartment.

“Did you?”

“Yep. I picked each and every item myself, including the contact paper in the cabinets.” He grinned.

“Then, I am impressed. I didn't know you had it in you.”

“That's because those were the things you wanted to do. Whenever I offered a suggestion…” He let the sentence drift off.

Elizabeth licked her lips. “I didn't think you were really interested, just humoring me.”

He focused in on her. “I wasn't,” he said softly.

For a moment, they faced each other in the confines of the anteroom. The space grew smaller, the air hot. Elizabeth's heart began to race. Too many images clouded her mind.

“I better go see if your medicine is ready,” she said in a rush, and brushed by him. She practically ran to the front of the apartment, making at least one wrong turn in the process.

She grabbed her bag from the chair where she'd left it and hurried to the front door. She heard him behind her and she opened the door and shut it quickly behind her.

She was breathless by the time she reached the elevator, not from exertion, but from the racing of her heart.

What had almost happened back there? She stabbed the button of the elevator demanding that it arrive.

Finally, the doors opened. She stepped on, walked all the way to the back and leaned against the wall. She shut her eyes and drew in a long breath. She knew it was a mistake coming here.

She drew in long gulps of air once she got outside in the hopes of clearing her head. Instead of taking the car for the five-block drive, she chose to walk to give herself time to think.

It was over between her and Matt. They were divorced. It was official. She'd tossed her feelings away for him and reinvested them in Ron. So why did she suddenly feel so uncertain? Why did all those old emotions rear their ugly heads when they were in that small space together?

No, she wasn't going to buy into that. It was a vulnerable time for both of them. That was it and nothing more.