Avenging Alex (20 page)

She took his hand and kissed it. “I love you,” she whispered.

The faint sound of sirens in the distance grew louder as they got closer. People stood around gawking, some were crying, all were comforting one another.

John turned to Hank. “You need to tell Mama . . . ” His eyes fluttered and then he was gone.

Alex heaved as tears of anguish rolled down her cheeks and pooled at the base of her neck. She lowered her face and gently kissed John's lips.

The perimeter of the ghastly scene was cordoned off and the crowd was swiftly ushered away from the vicinity of the boardwalk and out of the park as John, Xavier, and Donovan's bodies were removed. A search of the car turned up evidence that would lead them to the Four Seasons.

Pilar was stunned by the breaking news she watched unfold on television. The extent of devastation at the pier was astounding. There was no contingency plan discussed should Xavier's plot fail to yield the desired results. “
¡Dios mío!
” Frenetic energy coursed through her as she paced the floor ferociously, pulling her fingers through her silky raven mane. With the plan to drive across the US border into Mexico now defunct she needed to act quickly. Picking up the short blond wig that was purchased for her disguise she frantically tucked her hair underneath it. “
Esto es absolutamente una locura!
”

After checking herself in a mirror she scrambled around the hotel suite, collecting her passport and nearly $10,000 cash that Xavier had left behind. She then called for a car, threw some things into a bag for her and the baby, and bolted for the door. Cerena's unabated cries informed Pilar that she would not be pacified. “
Tenga en una pequeña y tranquila. Tu mamá está aquí.
”

Donning a large pair of dark sunglasses she stepped onto the elevator, rocking and shushing Cerena. The few others already on cleared their throats and shot her irritated side-glances. When the doors opened the concierge nodded toward Pilar and a female marshal rushed toward her.

“Pilar Vélez?”

Pilar continued through the lobby as if she didn't hear. Cerena's cries grew louder. Milton Toliver approached and grabbed her by the arm. Her bag fell to the floor and clothes and money scattered. The female marshal took hold of Cerena as another officer hurried to assist in Pilar's capture.

Toliver snatched off her wig and glasses to assure a positive identification. “Pilar Vélez, you're under arrest for kidnapping, murder, and conspiracy to commit murder.”

Hotel guests and staff clustered, pointed, and stared.

Pilar thrashed around to free herself. “
Cabrón,
let go of me. I didn't do nothing.”

“I wouldn't exactly call murder and kidnapping nothing,” Toliver sniped as he twisted her wrists into handcuffs.

“
¡Eres un hijo de puta! Quítame las manos de encima!
”

“Blah, blah, blah. Yada, yada, yada,” Toliver snarled. “I would exercise the right to remain silent if I were you.” He dragged her to a waiting car and shoved her inside.

Having cleaned up the blood from her face and hands and given an unflattering change of clothes, Alex bolted from another car as the agent emerged from inside the lobby of the Four Seasons with Cerena. The agent handed the baby to Alex and she held her tightly, smothering her with kisses and tears.

“We have to go now,” Toliver said as he ushered Alex into his car.

Alex breathed a sigh of relief. “I can't wait to see my mother.”

“You'll see your mother soon enough. You've got a statement to give and I've got a lot of questions that need answers.”

Alex shook her head. “I can't deal with any of that right now.”

“You don't have a choice,” Toliver snapped.

Alex steeled herself and glared back at him. “Choice is the one thing that you're not going to take from me. I'm not answering any of your questions until I see my mother.”

Convinced that Alex would not relent, Inspector Toliver backed off and whisked her away to the undisclosed safe house where Jamilah was being kept. When they arrived he checked the security detail and pulled Alex to the side. “They'll be an armed guard outside your door tonight and a patrol outside the building. I'll be back here first thing in the morning, at which time I expect you to choose to cooperate.”

 

 

Jamilah and Alex's reunion was bittersweet. They clung to one another and cried.

“It's over, Mama.”

“Thank God you and Cerena are safe. I was beginning to think . . . Never mind; it doesn't matter now. What's important is that you're here and we're all together again.”

Alex broke from Jamilah's embrace, laid Cerena down on a bed that was in the room, and sobbed more vehemently.

“What is it, Omolola?” She noted the bruises on her face. “What happened?”

Alex gently rubbed her cheek. “It's nothing. I'm okay.”

“Inspector Chase? Where is he?”

Alex wailed and covered her mouth to keep from disturbing Cerena, who'd drifted to sleep. She shook her head in disbelief. “John is dead.”

Jamilah gasped and clutched her chest. “What? How did this happen?”

“It was Harley Donovan. He was working with Xavier Rivera all this time.”

“Oh, dear God. How did you find this out?”

“It's a long story, one that I can't get into right now.”

“What about Xavier Rivera? Did they catch him?”

Alex hesitated and wiped her tears. She turned to Jamilah. “He's dead too. I shot him.”

“Alexandra.”

“Everything happened so fast. There were people and guns and chaos. It was horrible. Now John is dead and it's all my fault.”

Jamilah took Alex in her arms. “No, Omolola. You can't blame yourself.”

“I loved him, Mama. Now he's gone,” she cried.

Jamilah's heart broke for her daughter. There were no words to ease her pain. She had to feel the loss and process it in her own way and in her own time.

Nearly a week had gone by since John's death. Once she gave her statement, with Xavier Rivera out of the picture, Alex felt that there was no longer a need for her to be part of the WITSEC program and requested to leave it. She understood that getting out meant she'd no longer be protected nor would she be allowed back in. She informed Chief Inspector Toliver of her intent to return to Nigeria with her mother and daughter. Under the circumstances he agreed to comply and began the necessary paperwork and the arduous process to release them.

Reports of the bloody skirmish on the Santa Monica Pier continued to dominate the news outlets. There was widespread conjecture surrounding all that had transpired, but a tight lid was kept on everything having to do with Alex Solomon and her involvement. Unfortunately the high profile of a man like Xavier Rivera was not so easily reined in. News of his demise ran wild. A report of the death of John Chase was a small but significant footnote to this story, as he was credited for tracking Rivera down and bringing him to a decisive and final end.

When Alex heard where John's memorial was being held she knew she had to be there. Jamilah objected. “Omolola, do you think that is wise given everything that's happened?”

“It's because of everything that's happened that I have to be there, Mama.”

“Then I'll go with you.”

“No, you stay with Cerena. I have to do this alone.”

 

 

It seemed an ominous cloud hung over Mount Paran Baptist Church in Inglewood despite the warmth of June. There had been a constant flow of traffic all morning of those coming to pay tribute to the life of a fallen hero. A dark hearse with small American flags waving from either side of the hood was anchored outside the church. There was a line of cars behind it also standing ready to attend to the bereaved family once the service concluded.

Inside the sanctuary over a hundred mourners had gathered and sat solemnly as the organist played a litany of music Barbara Mitchell had selected that would honor her son's life the most. John was never the churchgoer that his mother was. But on those rare occasions, when she insisted, he was there sitting right beside her, clapping and singing as if he'd always been there. She sat in the front pew, staring directly at the open casket that held John's lifeless body. Hank sat on one side of her and her eldest son, Anthony, sat on the other. Their shared sorrow eased the tension between Barbara and her inconsolable daughter-in-law Lorraine, who sat on the opposite side of Hank with Chloe on her lap and holding on to John Michael's hand. Lorraine's parents, Liam and Madeline, sat behind them. Milton Toliver, Sam McFarland, and several police officers and marshals were also in attendance.

Alex stepped into the sanctuary and almost immediately drew inquisitive whispers and accusatory stares. The gossip that John and Lorraine's rumored separation was careening toward divorce court and that there was another woman involved was now verified with her presence. Despite concerted efforts at understated glamour, with her hair pulled back and dressed in a simple formfitting sleeveless black dress, Alex still found herself to be a ready target. She stopped and glared back at those nearest the door and took a few moments to gather herself. Swallowing apprehension she continued up the aisle toward the casket to say a final good-bye.

Barbara Mitchell turned around when the disruption reached her ear. She knew from everything Hank was finally able to tell her that this was the woman at the heart of all of her anguish. Letting go of Hank's hand she stood up slowly. He tried to grab her arm and she yanked it away. All eyes watched her as she stepped into the aisle and stopped Alex in her tracks. Hank stood up behind her. Barbara's tear-stained eyes and grief-stricken expression raised the curtain on her years.

“Mrs. Mitchell, I'm so—”

Before Alex could complete her condolence Barbara slapped her so hard across the face it caused her to lose her footing and stumble a bit. Hank pulled his wife back and Anthony rushed to assist.

“You're the reason he's dead! My son . . . my baby boy,” Barbara cried. “You're not welcome here.”

“Mrs. Mitchell, I—”

Barbara lost all decorum and began screaming. “Get out! Get out! Get out!”

Alex looked to Hank as if he would somehow come to her defense. He shook his head. Alex trembled as she caught sight of Lorraine and Chloe and John Michael and knew that her decision to come here had been a terrible mistake. She backed up a few steps before turning and running out of the church.

She ran up the block until she happened on a bus stop and took a seat on a bench. Catching her breath and drying her eyes she recalled the grieving faces of John's children. Even though she knew of them somehow they hadn't seemed real until now; their loss, their pain, was palpable.

Busses came and went. Passengers boarded and she sat. Finally, she spied the headlights of the hearse being escorted up the street by a platoon of motorcycle police. For fear of being seen she scurried behind a tree as the motorcade of cars passed. As the processional wound down she hailed a taxi and followed them to the cemetery. The mood at the cemetery was as somber as that in the church. Alex asked the cab driver to wait a safe distance away from the others as she witnessed the ritual of the last rites and the lowering of John's casket into the ground. Her pain, her tears, were no less ardent.

After a few minutes she instructed the driver to take her to the bank in Monrovia where she had her safety deposit box. It was almost an hour's drive, but it gave Alex enough time to decide what she had to do next.

She sat staring at the contents of a manila envelope: a letter to Tirrell Ellis, pictures of Cerena. Racked with guilt, she thought about all the children who may have lost fathers because of her dealings in Atlanta, and John Michael and Chloe, who'd lost their father when he was trying to protect her. Given what she'd caused to happen to Tirrell and his family, maybe she could be absolved of her sins in some small way if he were to know about Cerena. Pulling the letter out and tearing it up she put the pictures back inside the envelope and sealed it. She crossed out Betty Ellis's name and addressed it directly to Tirrell.

 

 

By the time she made it back to the tiny apartment she and Jamilah had transitioned to the day was well spent. The old was giving way to the new. A fresh start was on the horizon. Alex walked into the apartment, kicked off her shoes, and sat facing the window staring out at the orange, yellow, and crimson hues of a summer sunset. The view above the San Gabriel Mountains was nothing short of breathtaking, but all Alex could think about was another love lost.

“There you are,” Jamilah said, coming in from the bedroom. “I was beginning to worry.”

“I'm sorry, Mama. I had some things to take care of and time got away from me.”

“How was the service?”

Alex smiled sadly. “I wouldn't know. John's mother was so angry with me she kicked me out of the church.”

“Omolola, I wish you would have allowed me to go along with you.”

“It wouldn't have made any difference. The end result would have most likely been the same.”

“The service was at eleven,” Jamilah noted. “It's almost seven. Where have you been all this time?”

“Believe it or not I went to the cemetery.”

“Why torture yourself, daughter?”

“I had to say good-bye. Then I drove around in the cab and did some thinking. It felt so strange being out in the open for the first time and not being afraid.”

Jamilah sat down in a chair facing Alex. “I for one can hardly wait to leave this godforsaken mess behind us. You are going to love Nigeria.”

Alex sighed. “That's one of the things I was thinking about. Now that Xavier is dead and we're leaving the program nobody's chasing us anymore. We don't have any reason to run.”

“You want to stay here in California?”

“Not necessarily. There are a couple of other places we could go. I think I've paid enough. Maybe God will give me a break now.”

Jamilah stood, leaned into Alex, and kissed her forehead. “Maybe you should give yourself a break, daughter.”

“Where's Cerena?”

“I fed her and she's asleep. Can I fix you something to eat?”

“I'm not hungry.”

Alex pushed herself up from the sofa and went to the room where Cerena slept. She tiptoed inside and watched her. “I did something today that I can't tell your
nnenne.
I don't know whether I should have or not, but it's done now. I sent your father pictures of you; I just hope I don't live to regret it.” Alex's eyes misted. “
L'abe igi orombo . . . N'ibe . . . N'ibe . . .
”

Jamilah stepped up behind Alex, wrapped her arms around her and joined her in the song. “
N'ibe l'agbe nsere wa . . . Inu wa dun, ara wa ya . . . L'abe igi orombo . . . Orombo, orombo . . . Orombo, orombo.
”

Alex leaned in and kissed Cerena. “Sleep tight, my angel.”

Despite all that remained from the wreckage of the past months it was a strangely peaceful moment. It was as close to normal as most anything else.