Authors: Vincent Alexandria

Black 01 - Black Rain (26 page)

BOOK: Black 01 - Black Rain

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Chase is smarter than I thought she was. She’s pulled the perfect crime and who’s to be the wiser? She screwed everybody that screwed her. She must have been through a hell of a lot to turn the tide like this. I don’t agree with what she’s doing, but I understand.

The governor’s eyes bulge with rage. His mouth falls open and his hands shake. His thin lips tremble with anger and he turns redder than a tomato on a hot August day.

“You bitch!” He runs and grabs his bag, checking its contents. “You fucking bitch!” Those seem to be the only words he can muster. He rubs his chin and tries to gather himself, looking around as if trying to find what to say next. “Chase, we can work something out. Let’s renegotiate.”

“That’s Ms. Bitch to you. Why do you think I need you? So you can try and kill me later? Fool. You been
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played, like you thought you were playing everybody else. I’ll send you a postcard now and then to let you know how I’m spending your money. That’s the least I can do. Oh, and I forgot to tell you, I called in a shooting at the hotel and gave them the suite number. I’m sure the police and FBI are on their way. Thanks again, Governor!” she says.

“I’ll kill Joe and the agent if you don’t return with my money.” He shoots me in the shoulder again.

She hesitates. “So what, he didn’t want me, remember. He chose his family over me and the money and I don’t know the agent. I’ll get over both of them as I’m drinking a pineapple piña colada on some hot island somewhere, but you’ll be getting the death penalty for killing two officers, and you’ll be some big guy’s play-thing in federal penitentiary.” She laughs as she hangs up.

The governor screams as he looks at the phone in dis-belief. I lunge at him, knocking him backward. I leap into the couch where Agent Duvall sits, knocking it backward to give us a shield from the imminent gunfire. Two shots pierce the couch. Cotton and fabric float in the air in front of us. We duck as low as we can behind the coach.

“Put down the gun or you’re dead,” a husky yet fa-miliar voice orders.

“What do I have to lose? Take your best shot!” the governor screams as four more shots ring out. There is silence and a loud thud.

“Damn, dude, you really took him out,” I exclaim as the gunman’s aim turns on me.

Brutus and I look at each other. I smile and pull myself over the top of the couch.

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“Whoa! I’m the good guy! Put that gun down,” I order.

“Joe, I’m glad you’re okay. I’m Brutus Tucker and I work with Internal Affairs in the Nebraska Police Department. We’ve been on to Dread for about twenty-four months now. You and your guys almost blew the case for us. Where’s Chase?” He asks as he puts his gun away and unties Agent Duvall.

“She took the money and ran. She’s on a plane headed somewhere. She was undercover with the FBI,”

I answer.

“I figured she was a fed. I can’t believe she would turn, but with all she went through, I can understand. I tempted her several times trying to see if she was in with Dread. She never budged or took the bait. She was a good cop, but I guess the money got the best of he,”

Brutus says as he scratches his huge head.

I stumble over to kick the gun away from Governor Brush and check his neck for a pulse. None. Brutus unties Agent Duvall then comes over and helps me over to the chair I was once leaning against.

“Is he dead, Joe?” Agent Duvall asks as she rubs her bruised wrists.

“Yes, he is,” I say with a heavy sigh.

“Good for the bastard. Brutus, I’m sure glad you are on our team. Joe and I were in a bad situation. If I ever get my hands on that heffa, Chase… She just left us for dead, Joe,” Agent Duvall says with her hands on her hips.

I don’t argue with Agent Duvall. I know we can’t judge Chase because we don’t know what she had been through. But, I know we owe her our life, because she caused all the distractions that allowed us to get out of
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this mess, and at any time she could have had us killed if that was what she wanted. She held all the cards.

“Brutus, please hand me my gun—it’s in that corner.”

I take the gun from him and place it in my holster. “I don’t know if we’ll ever catch Agent Chase. She’s long gone now. By the time we try and find what aircraft and pilot or what flight plan they took, they’ll be across the border in either direction.”

Agent Duvall brings me some towels out of the bathroom, presses them against the wounds on my shoulder and wraps a couple around my thigh.

Commissioner Wayne, FBI Agent James and other federal agents and police officers flood the room. We explain what has just transpired and I’m escorted by the paramedics to a waiting ambulance where my wife and Diamond rush to me. Sierra looks at me with relief and cries, “Baby, you’ve been hurt. Are you all right?”

She cups my face and kisses me.

Diamond puts her hand on my arm as I grimace from the paramedic applying bandages to my leg wound. “I’ll be fine. I was shot, but we solved the case. The governor was behind all this.”

Sierra shakes her head in disgust, “What is this world coming to?”

Diamond lets the paramedic get by as he checks my heart rate, bandages my shoulder and gives me the thumbs-up. When he’s done she grabs her sister by the hand and pulls her closer to me, “Joe, you need to talk to Sierra. We saw that reporter Tracy on the news. When Sierra heard her call you ‘Killer Joe’ like she was trying to blow your cover or something, she pulled me out of your mother’s house and made me get in the car. We
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drove down to the Plaza and she beat that woman with her own microphone. I’ve never seen her like this before.

Joe, you’re having a bad influence on my sister, man.”

Sierra pulls away from Diamond and puts her hands on her hips, “Tracy’s had that coming for years. She could have blown Joe’s cover and she had no business calling my man a killer on television, anyway.”

Agent Duvall walks up, “I heard that, girl. Take up for your man. I would have slapped the heffa for you myself.”

I look at all of them. “Y’all some bad ladies.” I turn to my wife with love and appreciation. “I’m sorry I put you through this.”

“Joe, you know I would die for you, baby,” she says as she kisses me. “Let’s get you to a hospital.”

I smile at my wife and hug her tight, “You tough, baby, and cute, too. I like that little bad-ass thang you got going on. You go, girl!” I tease.

Sierra smiles and raises her eyebrow, “Just don’t make me go there on you, Mr. Man.” We both laugh.

Epilogue

A week has passed since we ended the Black Ring case. The FBI has found no trace of Chase or the assumed money and bank accounts that had been seized from the drug dealers. Chase got clean away with over one billion dollars in untraceable funds.

She sent a letter of resignation to Agent James of the FBI. The letter was postmarked from Belize with no return address.

I received a large box in the mail from Chase two days ago, postmarked from Bermuda. It contained twenty-five million dollars in cash. I told Agent James and Commissioner Wayne, and they ran the serial numbers on all the money. None was registered with any of the drug busts the Federal Bureau had on file. Chase had been smart enough to launder the money with brand-new one-hundred-dollar bills. The money was
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not traceable nor could they prove it was from any illegal activity. There were absolutely no records of any of the money transactions Dread and Governor Brush handled. The IRS even did their review. I was taxed out the ass, but was told to consider it a gift. Sierra and I have talked about what to do with the money. After we put some aside for the kids’ future, we’ll share it with our family and friends. I will send money to St. Louis Slim’s family. I plan to give Pretty Kevin, Mo-Mo, Little Tiny, Agent Duvall, Agent Smelley’s family and Vernon one million each. I know one thing though; it sure made my gunshot wounds feel a whole lot better.

We buried Sweet St. Louis Slim in St. Louis, Missouri, two days ago. Mo-Mo and Slim’s family made sure he went out in style with his canary-yellow suit and a pair of Stacy Adams two-tones on his feet. Mo-Mo took it hard, but Agent Duvall was right there by his side.

I stand here at my father’s gravesite and most of the people have left to return to the church for the dinner. People sure love to eat at funerals. My wife, kids, mother, brothers and sisters, Pretty Kevin, Mo-Mo, Agent Jason “Little Tiny” Phillips, Agent Epiphany Duvall, Agent James, Commissioner Wayne and my best friend, Detective Vernon Brown, wait by the limousines and their cars for me as I say my final goodbye to my father.

It is a beautiful overcast morning and the birds are chirping and flying around in the gray skies that are kissed by puffy storm clouds. I hold a single rose in my hand and adjust my crutch under my arm to support my bad leg. The grave diggers look on from a distance.

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“Daddy, you meant the world to me. You were a man of few words. You led by example, always had a big smile and a loving laugh. Thank you for what you did for the family and the sacrifices you made for us. I will always remember you and keep you in my heart. I know you’re looking down from heaven and will be watching out for us. I promise to make sure Mom is taken care of. Put in a good word to God for me.” I smile and toss the rose into the grave and wave the grave diggers over to finish their job.

I walk over to my family and closest friends and we depart for the family dinner. I look back as we drive off in the limousine and the rain starts to fall. In the distance, I see Agent Cheryl Chase appear from behind a gravestone. She waves at me. I nod, sit back in my seat and smile. I don’t know what she went through when she was with Dread, but evidently it was pretty bad. I say a little prayer for her and hope she will be okay, and she stands in the graveyard as though she’s being bap-tized in the black rain.

About the Author

Vincent Alexandria is the author of
If Walls Could Talk,
Postal Blues, Black Rain, Black Heat, Black Vice, Ain’t
Nothing Like Loving An Ugly Woman
from Harlequin–

Kimani Press and a book of poems,
Poetry from the
Bottom of My Heart
from We Must X-L Publishing Co.

He is an author, actor, producer, director, composer, lyricist, vocalist, screenwriter and musician. The father of five children, grandfather of two, he holds a masters degree in literature at Baker University and a bachelor’s degree in psychology from Rockhurst College.

His vision for the Brother 2 Brother Literary Symposium, his nonprofit company that sends published authors across the country to discuss literacy, is that it will enhance people’s quality of life through reading. The events are always free to the public and over $100,000

in free books have been given away. To find out more go to www.theliteraryevent.com/symposium or visit Vincent at his Web site at www.vincentalexandria.com.

BLACK RAIN

ISBN: 978-1-4268-0522-6

First published by We Must X-L Publishing in 2004

A Sepia novel published by Kimani Press in 2007

Revised text © 2007 by Vincent R. Alexandria All rights reserved. The reproduction, transmission or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without written permission. For permission please contact Kimani Press, Editorial Office, 233 Broadway, New York, NY

10279 U.S.A.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

® and TM are trademarks. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and/or other countries.

www.kimanipress.com

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