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Authors: Michelle McGriff

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BOOK: Blood Relations
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“You took the blame?”
“Wouldn't you? Beautiful, half naked woman with the promise of a great shag in her eyes,” Ovan swooned slightly, leaning on the table as if starting to daydream and needing the support.
“Hell no! My rates would go through the roof. Crazy foo'.”
“Yes, I'm a big fool because now I don't know where to find her. Damn it all straight to hell! And I bet this Juanita,” he said, holding up the file, “is the same woman from this morning. Ex-wife of Chance Davis—I bet she is. Juanita Duncan is the ex-wife of Chance Davis. This woman was on her way to her ex's home, a home that was in the same hood as Rashawn Ams. Yes, it's got to be the same woman. And her name was Juanita as well—how many of those could there be. Of course. This has really been my lucky day!”
Lawrence shook his head at the eccentric little man. Ovan knew Lawrence saw when him. It was clear Lawrence was still undecided about whether he liked Ovan. “Let me get her address for you. I'm done talking to you right now anyway—I need a break from you. Besides, none of this has to do with Allen Roman being alive,” Lawrence huffed, shaking his head in disgust while taking the file over to the clerk to get an address for Juanita Duncan.
“You'll see, ol' boy,” Ovan mumbled, watching the obviously lonely man make his way over to the clerk. Lawrence wasn't bad looking nor in bad shape. He was big, true, but he actually was pretty buff—and Ovan was not like most men who can't tell the difference between a muscle and blubber. Ovan couldn't stand those guys who called their fat “buff.” Ovan took extraordinary care of his body, and it disturbed him to no end to see other men just letting themselves go and then wondering why they turned women off.
It wouldn't be his concern, except for the fact that they were always asking him, “Gee, man, howdja shag that one?”
Ovan decided then that he would have to take Lawrence out for a few drinks before all this was over, loosen him up a bit. But first he was going to take another look around Craven's place, stop in on the good Dr. Duncan, and then see what he ended up with. Maybe he'd have another run-in with Allen Roman along the way. Maybe he'd get in a clear shot this time—kill the bastard. If anyone knew his personal involvement in the case he would have been taken off a long time ago. It was amazing how having a handy computer geek for a partner could enhance the changing of one's identity. No one would ever be able to trace his real name.
Chapter 16
The day was a long one for Chance. Too long. It had given him too many opportunities to think about his life. He tried not to do that often. It wasn't as if anything was wrong with his life, but not too much was right, either. Maybe he was just bored. He'd been hanging out with his sister-in-law and her husband a little bit lately, getting their advice on this whole Reggie situation. He felt guilty, as if rushing Reggie out of the house. That wasn't it. It was just that Rashawn needed to let him go. Let him grow up. Chance knew he had no ulterior motives for wanting Reggie to go to school out of state. But with Reggie around, Rashawn was having a harder and harder time letting go of the past. It was almost as if now that Reggie was growing up the wounds were reopening. “Maybe because he looks like that guy so much,” Rita, Rashawn's sister, said, offering Chance a possible solution. “I know if I were raped and my child started looking like the rapist it would be hard for me. We've all pretended that Reggie only looks like us, but you know he doesn't. He barely looks like Rashawn and she's his mother, so he sure as heck doesn't look like the rest of us.”
“But it's just time to let go. Maybe it's not even all that deep, maybe it's just that she needs to let go. I'm going to want Nita to do the same thing with Junior in just a couple of years. These boys have got to grow up,” Chance had said to Rita.
“Hell, yeah. If they don't go, them Negros will eat you outta house and home,” Rita's husband chimed in. They had two sets of teenage twin sons and one daughter. “Hell, I wish my kids were smarter so the younger ones could have skipped some grades, and all of them could have just up and gone to some college outta state together. Yeah, I wish they were geniuses like ... who's the kid on that show ... Dooky Howser.”
“Doogy, baby, Doogy,” Rita corrected, rubbing her head in disgust at his comment. She then turned to Chance. “Crazy man, you know he don't want all his kids outta state 'cause then he'd have to deal with me every day. Anyway ... Chance, you've been a great father. You deserve an award ... seriously. And you're right; Reggie should be allowed to go away to school. But you have to see Rashawn's point, too.”
“I don't though. She doesn't treat Rainey the way she treats Reggie, or Junior. I know, I know, Junior isn't her son, but sometimes I think she doesn't care about anybody but Reggie.”
“Well, you know that's not true,” Rita interjected quickly.
“And they fight all the time, she and Reggie. And ... and she's been having nightmares again,” Chance finally confessed. “About Roman.”
“He's dead!” Terrell again jumped in.
“We know this, T.” Rita smacked her lips and rolled her eyes. Chance smiled. Rita and Terrell argued all the time and fought with their kids constantly. But love was thick in their house. They were what Chance always considered to be a real family. Rashawn called them “a mess.”
“Then why is she dreaming about a dead man—that's what I wanna know,” Terrell asked, heading back into his office. He was an attorney who worked out of their home.
“You just have to be patient with my sister. This turning fifty has not been good to her,” Rita told him—as if he would understand what that meant.
Rethinking that visit with Rita and her husband, Chance looked out the window now. He watched as Rainey walked toward the house. She was laughing with her friends—one boy, one girl. The boy suddenly tugged at her hair, and the girlfriend reached around Rainey and slugged him. Rainey was laughing. They all were. Just the thought of that boy hurting his daughter for real ... the thought of anybody hurting her, the way Allen Roman had hurt Rashawn, tightened Chance's belly. No, fifteen years would not be near long enough for him to get over it. “Nobody is ever going to hurt my kids,” he said under his breath.
“Hey, what's cookin'?” Reggie asked, lifting the lid off of Chance's pot. He turned back toward the kitchen. Rainey walked in.
“Soup. My specialty,” Chance answered.
“Oh yeah, I'm down,” Reggie slurped greedily. “I gather Mom is still pissed and this is make up food?”
“Smells good in here,” Rainey said as soon as she cleared the door.
“Your mother is leaving tomorrow, so I wanted her to have a good going away dinner. And, no, this isn't a make up meal.”
“Mmhmm ...” Reggie winked. “Scared she won't come back, eh?”
“Oh, she'll come back. She can't survive without me,” Rainey teased.
Looking around now as if he'd missed something, Reggie asked, “Where's Junior? He wasn't at school today.”
“He's home, I guess,” Chance answered, stirring his pot.
Rainey looked at her father and then at her stepbrother. “God, you guys are horrible. You don't even know if he's home sick. I'm sure he wants to say good-bye to Mom too. Call him.”
“You are so cornball and stupid,” Reggie barked.
“No, she's not, and it's a good idea,” Chance spoke up.
“I have a better one ... giving me back my BlackBerry. Now, that is a good idea,” Reggie grumbled, heading back to his room.
Chance reached for the wall phone and started dialing Juanita's number. “Shoulda had it at the table.”
Chapter 17
Juanita pulled into the driveway with Junior. It was obvious that Rashawn wasn't home. Junior jumped out of the car quickly. She always had mixed feelings about how excited he was to be at this house. But then again, their day at home together had been far from fun-filled. After the fender bender, Juanita detoured to the car dealership to get estimates. She got a flat on the way and had to call AAA. Of course, her membership was suspended due to her being behind in the payments. It wasn't as if she could change the tire in her costume, so she and Junior caught the city bus home. Robbing Peter to pay Paul, so to speak, she floated money from one account to another to pay her AAA insurance premium, then arranged for them to tow the car, which they did to the tune of a one-hundred-dollar deductable—ugh. Breaking down and using money from her “stash,” she paid the tow guys, who then fixed the flat that, by now, she could have changed herself. By then, Junior was way too late for school, so he spent the day playing video games and she spent the day cussing and fussing at wasting so much time and money on a stupid flat that, again, was Ovan Dominguez's fault!
Junior turned the knob and walked in. Rashawn wasn't home, so Juanita took advantage of the opportunity to make herself at home by following him inside. The house was quiet except for the sounds of the TV coming from the den. The lingering smell of popcorn was in the air, as well as the wonderful aroma of Chance's favorite recipe, homemade minestrone soup.
“Hey!” Chance said, coming from the den and dusting the salt from his hands. Juanita frowned, thinking about his blood pressure. “I was just ...” he began, sounding guilty.
“I know what you were doing. Eatin' something you have no business eating. Ya watchdog ain't even outta town yet and here you are already messin' up.”
Chance's smile faded quickly. “Don't call my wife that.”
Juanita immediately regretted her words. “I'm sorry ... really. That came out wrong. What' cha cooking?” she asked, changing the subject.
“His specialty,” Rainey answered, coming from her room. Junior had quickly disappeared into the den and had taken over Chance's seat and his bowl of buttery, salty popcorn. Chance noticed and sighed slightly—looking disappointed about losing his decadent treat more than anything. “You staying for dinner?” Rainey asked her. “It's Mom's going away dinner.”
“Where is she going this time?” Juanita asked, realizing that apparently Chance didn't want her to know, or he would have told her.
Rainey lit up. She seemed to enjoy talking to her. Juanita liked her too. She reminded her so much of Chance, a sweet child indeed. “She's going to Arizona for two weeks! She's going to see her sister, the writer.”
“And you know what they say: while the cat's away!” Junior yelled out from the den. “Parrrtay!”
“Noooo, none of that,” Chance corrected, heading to his pot to give it a stir. Juanita followed him.
“So just you and the kids for two weeks?” she asked. Chance glared at her.
“I can handle it. Why do you and my wife think I can't handle it?”
“I didn't say anything remotely like that ...” Juanita grinned.
“Yes, you did,” he fussed playfully.
“No worries, he's got me,” Rainey said. “I can handle these boys,” she assured.
“I'm sure you can, baby.” Juanita again noticed how pretty Rainey was. She felt immediately melancholy, imagining Rainey to be her own daughter—but, alas, she was Rashawn's daughter. She was the glue that held Chance by Rashawn's side. “You're more and more like your mama every day,” Juanita said.
Chance looked at her as if unsure of what she would say next. “And that means?”
“Don't be so defensive. That means she's turning into a beautiful young lady.” Juanita laughed and then whispered loudly and playfully to Rainey, “Willing to get in over your head, but then,” she turned to Chance, “I'm sure that's the
you
in her,” she added, bursting into laugher. Chance clearly couldn't resist and laughed too. Dipping the spoon in the pot, he tasted the soup.
“Yeah!” he exploded.
“Ohhh, let me taste it,” she requested. It was a knee-jerk request but she was caught up. Warm house, warm laughter... . Yeah, she was caught up. And as soon as Chance raised that spoon to her lips, the door opened and Rashawn walked in. Yeah, she was caught up, or she would have been ready for that one.
“Well. Cozy,” Rashawn said. Her tone cooled the room down by degrees. Surely it matched outside now. Chance quickly set down the spoon and hurried over to her, kissing her tenderly. Juanita felt her own mouth open slightly as if she had received the tenderness of his lips.
The moment was suddenly awkward. “Well,” she began. “Junior. I'm going. If you need more stuff, just have your dad ...” she glanced at Rashawn and Chance standing there, “or just come get it,” she stumbled.
“Yeah,” Junior answered, sounding as if his mouth was full.
Quickly, Juanita grabbed her purse and brushed past Rashawn, pausing only to whisper, “Have a nice trip,” before rushing out the door.
Climbing behind the wheel, she noticed Rashawn's car parked on the street. She was parked in Rashawn's normal spot. She looked back toward the house and thought about the perfect family inside. She thought about how that family could have been hers if she hadn't cheated, schemed, and lied so much. “I'ma get back on my meds tomorrow,” she promised herself.
BOOK: Blood Relations
12.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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