Ebony Angel (30 page)

“I’ll be there.”

* * *

“I’m heading home to finish packing,” Richard said.

Skeet walked into the kitchen. “Things are getting crazy around here. First Trae leaves the business, and now Dan’s actually Ebony’s father.”

“Trae doesn’t deal drugs anymore?” He told himself not to panic. He had known Trae would make this move sooner or later, but had hoped it would be later. Much, much later.

“This is his last trip to St. Louis. He’s legit. I’m sticking around a few more months to watch his back.”

“Did you say something about Dan being Ebony’s father?” For some reason, this news didn’t shock Richard, but he knew it would knock Ebony off-kilter. He needed to settle his business with his mother and speed up his plan to take Trae out of the picture.

“Now ain’t that some crazy shit? Ebony’s a mess. She won’t even talk to him. And don’t get me started on Marissa.”

“What’s wrong with Marissa?”

“You got me. Something happened between her and Ebony.”

Richard nodded knowingly. He would bet Trae was at the root of all the turmoil in Ebony’s life. When Trae finished with her, she wouldn’t know left from right. “We need to get up out of here.” He headed for the door.

Richard stretched his legs out in the backseat of the limo Stephanie sent to the airport for him. It had been a long flight, made to seem longer by his private investigator not answering his phone. Now that he finally had him on the line, he wanted some answers. “Hello, Mr. Graves.”

“Sorry I couldn’t call you sooner. I just arrived in town about an hour ago.”

The limo was stuck in traffic.
Good
, thought Richard. That would give him more time to speak with the private investigator before he arrived at his parents’ home. “It’s been over a month. What’s taking so long?”

“I know you’re worried about your fiancée, Mr. Pacini. But you have to remember that it often takes the police department years to solve cases.”

“I don’t have years.” He tried to rein in his frustration but couldn’t. There had to be a way to stop Trae.

“I’m severely handicapped here. You didn’t know his real name or the name of his parents. I can’t work with the police. I don’t have any connections in Chicago.”

“That’s why I hired you. He has people in the police department. Hell, he has people all over the Midwest.” Richard rubbed his left temple, frustration mounting. “Please tell me you at least know his name.”

“His real name is Trinity Miles. He did have enough time to murder the Collins boys before his flight. I’m searching for any and everything. Murder has no statute of limitations, and he hasn’t always been so careful.”

The private investigator idea wasn’t panning out. He would have to gather his family and tell them the truth. Once they left the country, he would approach Skeet and Ebony.

“Give me another month. I’m close. I can feel it.”

“I don’t have a month. He could convince her to marry him by then.”

“I know you don’t want to hear this, Mr. Pacini, but you’ve lost your objectivity. Your number one priority should be keeping your family safe, not keeping him from marrying Ebony.”

“I can’t stand by and allow this to happen. I’ll tell my family to leave the country.”

“For how long, until he murders you? Someone’s already hired a private investigator from Chicago to investigate you.”

Richard gripped the phone so tight his fingers hurt. “What the…Who?”

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t be surprised if Trae hired someone to keep an eye on you.”

He cursed under his breath. “Does this investigator know about you?”

“I’m covering my tracks; he isn’t even trying. That’s another reason I believe he’s one of Trae’s men.”

“Great,” he drawled. “I want to be posted daily, even if you don’t find anything.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

Richard walked into the grand hall of his parents’ home. “Have you seen my mother?” he asked a passing maid.

“Your parents are in the study, Mr. Pacini.”

He thanked the maid, then went to the study. The layout of the study hadn’t changed much since he was a child. The sofa was still far enough from the wall for a child to hide behind. The end tables had ceramic lamps instead of antique vases. The built-in bookshelf was still full of books most normal people wanted nothing to do with. He looked at the floor. Stephanie had the marble replaced the day after he’d scratched it.

“Hello, Mother.” He nodded a greeting to his father and the man sitting at the round reading table. His parents seemed nervous, especially his mother. They joined the man at the table.

“Richard, this is Dr. Joyner. He’s here to help,” Stephanie said. “Have a seat with us.”

“Is someone sick?” He sat at the only remaining chair, which was across from the doctor.

“We’re concerned about you, son,” Phillip said. “You’ve changed so much these past few months.”

Richard’s eyes slowly traveled from his father to Dr. Joyner to his mother. “Why are you all staring at me? What’s going on here?”

“Dr. Joyner is my psychologist,” Stephanie answered. “I asked him to be here.”

Richard released a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Nonno had told him Stephanie had started seeing a therapist.

Stephanie tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the oak table. “We know who you are. We want to help you.”

“What? Help me with what?”

“We know everything,” Phillip said. “Your street name is Smoke. You’ve been laundering money for drug dealers. You’re under surveillance by both drug and gang task forces in Chicago. You are part of a double-murder investigation. Your best friend Skeet isn’t a football player but a major drug dealer. Your fiancée is the lover of the man who we believe beat you.”

“So
you’re
the ones who hired the private investigator. This is freakin’ unbelievable.”

Stephanie cleared her throat, calling his attention. “We’ll hire the best lawyers to keep your record clean. Dr. Joyner has given us a list of excellent rehabilitation clinics.”

“So now I’m a druggie, too. What am I on, Mother?” He couldn’t help but laugh at how easily his parents thought the worst of him. He stood to leave. “I can’t believe you called me down here for this.” He tipped his imaginary hat at the doctor. “Sorry they wasted your time. Charge them double.” He stalked toward the door.

“Richard. Wait. Don’t leave.” Stephanie followed him.

He spun around, practically knocking her over. “Why not? I’m a drug-dealing, money-laundering druggie who doesn’t have enough sense to find his own woman, but instead goes after the woman of the top drug dealer in the Midwest. And, oh, I forgot—I also belong to a gang. I’m a busy man. I don’t have time for this.”

She wrapped her arms around him. “Allow us to help you.”

Phillip stood beside Stephanie and studied his son. Richard was so hurt and angry he almost turned away. He wouldn’t hide from the pain this time. He would confront his fears, and let the chips fall where they may.

“I don’t want or need your help.” He pried her arms from around him, then returned to the table. “I refuse to live like this any longer.”

Stephanie and Phillip retook their seats.

“We’ve misjudged you, haven’t we?” Phillip asked.

“I’m saying my piece, then leaving and never returning,” he stated with a confidence he didn’t feel.

“No, Richard,” Stephanie cried.

“I won’t go if you explain one thing to me.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “How is it you can accept your son being a drug dealer, a money launderer, a junkie, and a gang-banger, but you’re ashamed of him being black.”

“You’re not black.”

“You are correct. I’m not black. I learned a long time ago that it takes a lot more than a tan and a black great-grandmother to make a person black.”

“Stop trying to change the subject. We’re only trying to help you.”

“Stephanie, stop,” Phillip interrupted. “We were wrong.”

“But, Phillip.” She turned to Dr. Joyner. “You’re supposed to be helping.”

“Listen to your son, Stephanie,” the doctor answered.

“You’re all turning this on me,” she snapped. “I’m not the one in the gang.”

Richard had reached the point of no return. He wanted a family with Ebony. Until he hashed out his problems with his mother, that wasn’t possible. He also wanted peace for himself. Bottling up his feelings and fears was eating him from the inside out. “Let me get this straight. You don’t mind people, such as the good doctor here, thinking I’m a criminal as long as he doesn’t think I’m black. What kind of sick logic is that? You do realize Nonno is black, don’t you?”

“He’s Italian. You’re ashamed of who you are.”

“You have your work cut out for you, Dr. Joyner. I’m proud of my French, Italian, and Moor blood. Can you say the same? Nonno’s still hurt that you worked to lose your accent and everything associated with your Italian heritage. Being Italian wasn’t good enough for you. Being a black Italian was unspeakable.” He nodded at the doctor. “Good day.”

Phillip followed Richard out while Dr. Joyner stayed behind and consoled Stephanie.

“I’m sorry. I should have known.”

“Yes, you should have.” Richard crossed the grand hall. “I lost Ebony because I was ashamed of my family.” He stopped and considered his father. Phillip was a big man: dark hair with graying edges, blue eyes, stern features. He always wore power suits, and didn’t look like the type of man to be pushed around by his wife. “I don’t even know what to call you.” His eerie laugh echoed off the walls. “I’m thirty and don’t have a comfortable way of addressing my father.”

“I love you, Richard. I’ve made mistakes. I regret my inaction. There is no excuse, but you were always such a strong-willed boy, while your mother was weak. She always has been. But I love her. You had Papà. Instead of protecting her, I should have protected you. I should have insisted she go to therapy years ago.” He held his arms out and hands up in surrender. “I’m asking for your forgiveness.”

Richard stepped into his father’s embrace. He relaxed in Phillip’s arms, releasing the anger and disappointment festering in his heart. Tired of fighting, he wanted to work toward healing his family. “I need your help.”

“Anything, son.” They went into Phillip’s office, where Richard brought him up to date on everything that happened with Trae.

“This private investigator hasn’t found anything you can use?” Phillip asked.

“Not yet.”

“Tell Skeet the truth.”

He shook his head. “If he believed me, he’d go after Trae. He saved my life, Papà.” Richard smiled. It felt awkward saying Papà, but it also felt right. He saw the joy on his father’s face. It was odd, but he felt at home.

Phillip nodded. “You don’t want to risk your friend’s life. I understand.” He moved his hand over his face. “I’ve been thinking about retiring.”

“What are you saying?”

“Papà misses Italy. Stephanie and I want to travel the world. I can hire protection for you and your sisters.”

“You would quit your job for me? But you’ve worked so hard.”

“It’s time for me to take care of my family.”

“I appreciate your efforts, but he could hire a sharpshooter. I don’t want to live under siege, and I don’t want that for you.” He leaned back in the chair. “I think I should tell Dan. He’ll be able to find evidence against Trae.”

“Didn’t you say he killed the man Ebony thought was her father?”

“I’ve finally figured Trae out. He likes to separate his victims from their support. He knew I’d go to Dan, so he said something to make me fear Dan.”

“Are you sure you can trust Dan?”

“I should have gone to him from the start. Trae has all of the phones bugged. He probably has me being watched.”

Phillip poured himself and Richard a rum and coke. “Can you bug a cell phone?”

“I have no idea. I don’t want to take any chances.” He took the drink offered. “Thanks. I’ll have my P.I. contact Dan and set up a time and place for us to meet.”

“Sounds like you have a plan.” Phillip held his glass up in toast.

Richard tipped his glass. “Let’s pray it works. By the way, I’m moving.” He chuckled. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Skeet hasn’t moved my furnishings over to my new place already. He’s been after my condo for months.”

“Do you think it’s wise to have friends like Skeet?”

“Wise? No.” He tasted his rum and coke. “I don’t know how it happened. The Skeet I know isn’t a drug dealer. I’m told he is, but I haven’t seen it. In my head I know it’s real, but in my heart…” He stopped mid-sentence, unable to find the words to explain this odd friendship. Ebony had said similar words to him. “I’m his friend and can’t turn my back on him. He needs someone to show him a different way of life.”

“I’m proud of you. You’ve grown to be a fine young man. I only wish I had more of a part in it.”