Black 01 - Black Rain (18 page)

“I won’t miss next time,” Dread promises. “I will call dis detective and you guys will be waiting down the ridge.

There you will drive him off da road. That should shake his ass up. I do like his persistence. You fuckers don’t eat from my table! Leave my sight, you pieces of shit!”

The men rush from the dining area. Brutus is the last to leave, and Dread grabs his arm as he walks by.

“I am very disappointed. You do understand my position, yes?”

Brutus looks at him, then at Chase. “I understand,”

he replies as he exits.

Dread walks to Brutus’s chair and pulls the knife out of it. He takes out his cell phone and makes a call. “He’s here. My men failed, but will deal with him tomorrow.

I am looking very forward to meeting him, if he isn’t killed first.” Dread laughs into the phone and hangs up.

Chase tries to figure out who might be on the other end of the line.

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Then Dread walks up to her and strokes her hair.

“I’m taking one of my cars out for a drive to calm my nerves. Have on something sexy when I return. I will need to work off some stress, and I don’t want to have happen wat happened da other night. Be nice to me and I’ll be nice to you, yes?”

Her skin crawls, but she nods. Dread kisses her on the cheek and leaves. She goes to the window to watch him drive off in the brown Ferrari. She passes through the kitchen where the five scorned officers are watching TV and eating. They’re all too defeated even to look up at her. Chase realizes that this is the perfect time to sneak into the study to get the information she needs from the safe. She’ll only have to get past one guard inside the house.

She walks through the game room and past the library, without seeing Byron Moore, who has been assigned to guard the inside of the house. Dread has cut down the number of men used to guard the inside and placed them around the perimeter of the property. She thinks he’s getting paranoid after what happened in Sioux City, Iowa.

Hearing a toilet flush nearby she quickly enters the study and carefully closes and locks the door behind her.

She takes out the penlight that she had stuck into her piled-up hair and turns it on, shining it on the Charles Bib painting that hides the safe.

As Chase starts to enter the combination she figured from closely watching as Dread opened the safe, she hears someone inserting a key in the door. She quickly spins the combination on the safe, closes the picture, turns off the penlight and tries to think of a reason for her presence in the study.

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When Byron comes through the door with his gun drawn and turns on the light, Chase is lying on the leather-covered couch with nothing on but her thong.

Her arms cover her breasts.

“What are you doing in here, Ms. Chase?” he asks as his face turns red with embarrassment.

“I’m waiting on Dread if you must know, and if you know what’s good for you, you better get out of here before he catches you. God knows what will happen.

You know how jealous he is, Byron.”

Byron drops his gaze, trying not to look at her as he apologizes and closes the door. Chase relocks the door and runs back to the safe, grabbing her belt buckle with its built-in camera on the way past.

She sighs gratefully as the safe door swings open on her first try. Right in front is Dread’s address book. She photographs all his contact names and bank account information. When she finishes, she places the papers back in the safe exactly as they were and smiles.

She dresses and steps into the hallway where Byron is waiting.

“I thought you were waiting on Dread?”

“I was, but you spoiled the moment, asshole. I’ll be in my room.”

Byron wipes his sweaty hands on his pants and nervously fidgets. “Hey, I’m really sorry, and, uh, you don’t have to mention this to Dread, do you?” he asks, playing with his shirt collar.

“Not this time, but don’t let that happen again. And I saw you peeking at my breasts, Byron. Did you get a good look, pervert?”

“Yes, ma’am, I mean, no ma’am. I really wasn’t try-168

Black Rain

ing to look. I swear,” Byron answers stuttering and perspiring.

Chase just stares at him and then climbs the staircase to her bedroom. Her hands are trembling. She goes into the bathroom and splashes water on her face. Her nerves are shot and she still has Dread to deal with.

She starts to feel like a whore for the FBI. She looks at herself in the mirror and doesn’t like what she sees.

But she does have the information that she was sent in to get. Now, if she can just get out alive. She wants to escape before Dread’s return, but knows that because of the situation and the guards, that’s impossible.

She puts on a crotchless, sheer black body suit, goes to the window and looks out for Dread’s return as she dials Agent James’s cell-phone number.

“Chase? Good. Have we got any more information?”

“Yes, I have all the information that we need. I’m ready to come in,” she answers.

“Great job! I knew you could do it, Chase. Did any names in the book stick out?”

“Shit, I don’t know. I was too busy trying to get the information without getting caught. I couldn’t mem-orize all the fucking names.”

“Agent, get hold of yourself. I’m your superior, and you will answer me accordingly, understand?”

“You said all you needed was his list of names and contacts to close the case. You’re not sacrificing your body for the Bureau, sir. I didn’t join to become a prostitute,” she replies, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Agent Chase, I’m going to say this one time and one time only. You
will
do whatever it takes to get this case solved. Period! You joined the Bureau to get scum like
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Dread off the street. We all have to make sacrifices, Chase.

I know it’s hard sometimes, but that’s what we do, get next to people to expose them and take them down. We can’t let the case get personal. It’s all part of the game.”

“Well, it’s a fucked-up game.”

“Get me that information and we’ll get you out. I promise. You’re a great agent, Chase. There’ll be a promotion after this is over. The magnitude of this case warrants that.”

“Yeah, a promotion.”

She hangs up feeling worse than she did before. As she sits in the window staring hopelessly at the stars, she see a lightning bug caught in a spider’s web. The spider is descending upon its prey and she relates to the bug and its torment as the spider approaches.

Dread drives up the road and pulls into the garage.

Agent James words circle in her head, “We all have to make sacrifices.”

She turns off the lights, hides her cell phone, lights a couple of candles, turns on the CD player and lets Billie Holiday sing her blues. What would Joe think of her, if he knew what was about to happen? She lies in bed and lets the tears flow as she waits for Dread to come and violate her. All for the good of the FBI.

Chapter 11

At about 6:00 a.m. I watch the water fill the bathtub.

Vernon’s snoring has kept me up most of the night, so I decide to spoil myself with a hot bath and relax before a busy day. I have a pretty good feeling that Dread will call some time this morning and want us to meet with him. My mind is also racing because that will probably be his trap to kill us. We’ll have to survive the surprises he has in store. We need to win his trust with our resourcefulness, then take him down when he least expects it.

I enter the steamy hot bath and my mind and body is instantly soothed. How is Dad’s health holding up?

Guilt stabs my gut. I should be there, but at this point, I can’t turn back. Still, I can’t shake the shame of me being here in a hotel in Nebraska while my father is home dying and in pain.

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I submerge myself in the steaming water and let it cover my face. My jaw pulsates under the water. It is strange how sound intensifies under water, and if you listen, you can hear your heart beat as it pumps blood through your body.

I surface, take a deep breath, let the heat enter the pores of my skin and relax my mind. Sierra will be getting the kids ready for school, making breakfast, answering the twins’ questions as they brush their teeth, and my little angel, Nia, will be being Mommy’s assistant by helping the twins get dressed and putting on their shoes. I smile as loneliness traces across my heart.

There is nothing more sensual than seeing my beautiful wife getting dressed in one of her business suits.

I picture Sierra pulling her pants up over her silk-stocking-covered legs. I see myself fastening her neck-lace, having the privilege of zipping up her pants. That always gives me a chance to embrace her hips and rub her firm, full ass. I always place a gentle kiss on her neck and hold her close to me from behind.

Sometimes I undress her and we make love. She loves it when I serve it to her from the back. We look at ourselves in the mirror in the act of loving and it turns us both on. After, we get in the shower together and I wash her and she washes me. We rinse off and dry and lotion each other and I help her get dressed all over again. Other times I raise her dress and explore her secret garden with my tongue until she shivers from excite-ment, grasping my bald head and my shoulders as she is about to climax. The way she looks me in the eyes as I taste her is riveting. I love the way she smells and the way she holds my arms when I embrace her like that.

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My thoughts are broken by a presence in the room.

It’s not my usual inner alarm that has alerted me, the one that gets my reflexes on edge. I don’t reach for my gun that I put between the towels on the floor by the tub’s base just in case something jumped off unexpected. I am calm, even though I’m lying in the tub with my eyes closed, reminiscing. When I do open them, I find a full-bodied woman with beautiful dark eyes, dark-skinned, dressed in a navy-blue pant suit and with a short afro that accentuates her oval face. Her nails are perfectly manicured and her full lips are painted red. With her hands on hips she has a look of delight on her face—

like a sugar-junkie child about to reach into a cookie jar.

“FBI Agent Epiphany Duvall, I presume?” I ask with no embarrassment.

“Yes, and you must be Detective On-Loan-with-the-FBI Johnson. You look almost as good as I thought you would.” She shifts her weight and places her finger by her red mouth. “Is the flag pole raised to salute me or are you just excited to see a lady?” She asks, checking out my erection.

“Thanks, but if you don’t mind…” I start to say as I get out of the bathtub.

“Oh, no, don’t mind me, sugar. You go right ahead and just act like I’m not even here. I like to watch.” She leans back against the bathroom doorframe.

I hear Vernon moving around, and when he looks up and sees the woman in the doorway, he eyes me.

“What the hell is going on?” Vernon exclaims.

Before he can get the words fully out of his mouth, Agent Duvall, with confident agility, pulls two silver-plated Smith and Wesson .45 automatic pistols from
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the back of her waistband. With arms crossed, she has one pointed at Vernon and the other at me. Vernon and I look at each other wide-eyed, impressed.

“Damn!” we say in unison.

“So, are you gonna shoot us, or are you gonna let me get dressed so I can explain this case to you?” I ask her.

Agent Epiphany Duvall puts her guns away and throws me a hotel towel from the rack.

“Now, you take your time getting out that tub, sugar, and we’ll talk about a lap dance later, okay?” she says, winking. Then she turns to Vernon. “And look at you, Detective Brown! All this chocolate up in here! I like a man who wears Tasmanian Devil boxer shorts. You go, boy!” She slaps him on the rear. He retreats back to the bedroom in total embarrassment.

I can’t help but laugh as I wrap the soft white towel around my waist and pull the lever to release the water from the tub. I grab another towel and dry myself. I shake her hand and say, “So, Agent Duvall, I see you are very resourceful. We could have used you last night when Cattanno’s men tried to rough us up.”

She smirks at my remark. “Baby, Epiphany Duvall always gets here on time. Y’all must have took care of things, ’cause I see you’re here standing in front of me.

A little bruised, but still looking fine. Here I am ready for duty. You need some help lotionin’ up there, brotha?

One thing I can’t stand is an ashy man. Ohhh, that gets on my nerve!”

I grab the shea butter off the counter. “No, I think I can handle that by myself, and
my wife
gives me all the help I need, when I do have problems. But thank you for asking.”

Agent Duvall licks her lips and sucks her teeth.

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“Don’t start acting all uppity in here. I was just trying to help. Don’t let me have to get ugly.”

We walk into the living area where Vernon, now robed, joins us.

“You’re pretty good to be sneaking up on us like that,” he says. “I like your style, and I’m glad we have someone professional on our side.”

I look Agent Duvall up and down. Wow! I’m amazed at how she made it in the FBI with her weight being what it is.

“I know you brothas are probably looking at me and wondering how a sexy black woman in all her fineness could possibly be in the FBI. All full-figured with plenty of me for someone to love? Well, let’s just say, it’s not what you got, but how you use it, honey!”

Vernon shakes his head and smiles. “You must use it very well. You a whole lot of woman, and I bet twice as smart. You were slick enough to get in here on Joe and me, and that’s damn good. If you’re good enough for the FBI, baby, you’re good enough for me.”

“Vernon, you’re so sweet. So, let me tell you a little about myself. I finished high school in Opelousas, Louisiana, at thirteen at the top of my class. I played and lettered in basketball and track. I finished Yale when I was seventeen and had my master’s degree at Stanford when I was nineteen. After that I entered the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia. I’m a black belt in karate, kung fu and jujitsu, and I took the domino cham-pionship in Jackson, Mississippi, last year. Vernon, I heard you’ve got some skills and I can’t wait to spank that ass,” she says as she snaps her fingers. “I don’t talk a lot of stuff, but I do like to party and have fun. I have
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