Good Intentions (Samogon 1) (10 page)

Early Friday morning, just as he said, Chris drove to the warehouse, parked his truck, and jumped in the box truck. At the farm, he backed up alongside the work shop and lowered the hydraulic lift. One barrel after another he wheeled out on a dolly. Four at a time he lifted them up into the Ford. Chris smiled when he finished and thought to himself,
it may be labor intensive but it sure is a lot of money
.

“Baby,” Rochelle said, “we’re going to be okay.”

Rochelle drove ahead of Chris to the warehouse. While he unloaded the barrels, Rochelle called Mikhail and arranged the exchange for Saturday morning.

“Come on and take me to lunch,” Rochelle said.

“I got a better idea. Why don’t you go get lunch and bring it back here.”

There was a lot of money sitting in that warehouse and a lot of prison time with it.
Rochelle was so wrapped up in reward that she was forgetting the risk part.

“Look, as long as the barrels are here, I’m here.
I’m not leaving them unattended when others know about them. Someone could come and rip us off and we’re out $50,000. Worse, ATF could raid the place and we’re both off to prison. The only thing that might save us would be to dump the barrels over if they try to raid. You got any idea how long it would take to dump forty 50-gallon barrels?”

“Yeah, I guess all that escaped me.
But Mikhail wouldn’t possibly try to steal the moonshine. He needs us and knows there wouldn’t be another load. It’s just not feasible for him to play us like that.”

At first Chris thought Rochelle was defending Mikhail, but she was right about him.
“I’m not worried about Mikhail and his brothers. But if they have some young cats in their crew that can’t be trusted, or enemies, or if some petty thieves were to stumble on this place and break in, then we got a problem.”

Rochelle could see how Chris considered different types of threats and knew her daddy’s moonshine business
―
her
moonshine business―was in good hands. She often heard her dad talking about his operations in the Marines and having to always make “threat assessments.” Listening to Chris was like listening to her dad. She knew Chris had been paying attention to what daddy was teaching.

She left and came back with deli sandwiches, a couple dishes of lasagna and a big bowl of meatballs and pasta sauce.
She knew how much Chris could put away, and for whatever reason she liked watching him eat.

“You know, we got this whole place to ourselves and a lot of time to kill until morning.”
Rochelle had a wicked grin on her face.

Chris kept eating as he watched her walk off to make sure all the doors to the warehouse were locked.
As Chris finished eating, he heard Alicia Keys singing on the office’s sound system. He looked over and could see Rochelle in the office putting sheets down on the bed that Chris had placed in the back room. Nothing fancy, just a plain full-size bed for when he would have to spend the night at the warehouse. He never thought he would be christening it with Rochelle.

He placed the rest of the food in the refrigerator and made his way to Rochelle.

In the back office Rochelle was laid out on the bed in her bra and unbuttoned jeans. Her light brown skin looked so soft to Chris. Her long hair dangled over one shoulder, exposing one entire side of her neckline. Her lips and emerald eyes captured Chris and brought him close to her. All afternoon they made love.

As the day turned to dusk, Rochelle covered herself in Chris’ shirt.
She pulled out a grocery bag containing a bottle of red wine and a few scented candles. Chris watched with renewed excitement from the bed as Rochelle placed the candles throughout the office. She then got the lasagna and meatballs from the refrigerator and heated it all up in the microwave.

Chris pulled his pants on and walked out to join her.
Takeout and candle light―this was the most romantic time they had ever had together. He opened the wine and allowed it to breathe while Rochelle prepared a couple of plates.

“I’ve never been fond of wine,” Chris told her.
“But drinking it with you seems cool.”

Rochelle smiled and held back from laughing at him.
“I, on the other hand, enjoy wine. I like a lot of nice things, Chris Porter.” Rochelle was going to take the opportunity to educate him on her likes and dislikes, something the two of them had never discussed. “I like money, fast cars, the feel of silk, and a strong man’s gentle touch. The tranquility of the countryside, and I like to be made love to.” She kept going. “I like the idea of running my own business and being someone. I don’t want to just get by and be a common person. I want to leave my mark and for people to know me when they see me, and to know my story when they hear my name.”

Chris sat there eating, absorbing every little thing he could about the young woman he loved.
He started wondering about his own life but he had no ambitions. He just wanted a loving wife and a family, financial security, and comfort.

His mother would soon pass away, Rochelle would be away at school, and his boss was dead.
He would soon feel what it was like to be alone and on his own. The only person who could keep him grounded would be Rochelle’s mother. Chris realized he would have to stay around the farm as much as possible to help Louise Donovan stay grounded as well. After all, she would be without Rochelle and Richard. The two of them would likely fall back on each other’s company to get through the first couple of years.

Later that night, after another h
our of making love, Rochelle fell asleep in her lover’s arms―another first. All the times the two hooked up they never spent the night in each other’s arms.

Chris didn’t sleep just yet.
He laid there feeling Rochelle’s chest against his as she breathed. Her arm was stretched against his body, her leg draped over his thigh, and her head rested softly against his shoulder. She slept so soundly. Eventually, Chris drifted off.

It was early in the morning when Chris woke. Rochelle was gone. He looked for her in the warehouse but she was nowhere to be found, nor was her car in the parking lot. He wondered if her leaving was what woke him, or had she left some time in the night?

The morning sun was shining through the office windows as Rochelle arrived back at the warehouse.
Chris saw that it was shortly before eight o'clock. “Where did you take off to?” he asked.

“I shot home to check on mom and took a quick shower.”

Chris thought maybe she had regretted spending the night with him. But then he remembered—Mikhail would be here this morning, and here she stood, made fresh again, for her other lover. Before Chris could inquire any further, a silver Cadillac sedan pulled into the warehouse along with a freight truck that was backing up to the dock.

Chris chambered a round into his Glock .45 and tucked it in the front of his jeans, then pulled his cotton tee shirt down over the gun.
When the slide-action clicked, Rochelle looked at Chris with some disgust, as if to say, “How dare you not trust Mikhail.” He moved to the dock and raised the bay door for Mikhail and three of his crew.

One of the Russians carried a bucket of blue powder.
As they entered, Chris could see they were all carrying handguns under their clothes—an observation skill that Richard Donovan had taught him.

Rochelle came to life when Mikhail entered the warehouse and it immediately got under Chris’ skin.
Before this business relationship is over, you and I are going to come to an understanding,
Chris thought to himself, looking at her Russian …
lover
.

Rochelle scurried to Mikhail with a smile stretched across her face.
She hugged him and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.

“How are you, love?”
Mikhail asked Rochelle.

“I’m great.
I was wondering when you would get here.”

Chris’ temperature was rising as he watched her flirt with Mikhail, but he controlled his anger.

“Are these my barrels?” Mikhail turned and spoke Russian to his three partners, then he turned back to Rochelle and handed her a neatly folded brown bag. “Fifty-thousand dollars, just like I promised.”

The young eighteen-year-
old conducted himself like a seasoned wiseguy. His behavior said a lot about him—how he handled business and how he acted with Rochelle. Chris continued to size-up the Russian.

With all that money in hand, Rochelle’s spirit was renewed. It was an instant high
—standing in a warehouse, in a business she owned, holding $50,000, a bodyguard behind her with a loaded gun, Russian gangsters in front of her, and two men vying to be her lover.

Chris watched as the Russians took the lid off each barrel and poured a scoop of blue dye into the barrels.
The white lightening morphed into a blue color as the dye quickly dissolved. Next, they slapped a couple of stickers on the side of the barrels that identifying the content of the barrels as windshield wiper fluid. Chris was intrigued.

When all forty barrels were loaded, two of the Russians left with the truck.
Mikhail took Rochelle by the hand and spoke with her before leaving.

“You are heading off for college this week?”

Rochelle smiled proudly and answered, “Early Monday morning. Mom and I are driving up in my car, and Chris is following us in his truck. He’ll bring mom back.”

“Well, I wanted to be there to help you move in but I won’t be.
But I will come by later in the week, once you are settled in.”

He handed her a piece of paper.
“These are the numbers in Columbus where you can call to leave messages if you can’t reach me on my cell phone.”

Mikhail looked over to Chris and shouted out, “I will hear from you in two weeks, yes?”

“Next week, I’ll be ready.” Chris just looked at Mikhail, continuing to size him up. He was extremely vexed about Mikhail being in Columbus with Rochelle. He preferred that the Russian kept his distance from her. He didn’t believe the young mafioso would purposely harm Rochelle, but his lifestyle would bring trouble, and Chris would not be there to protect her.

Anything Chris could possibly say to her would be perceived as jealousy, and to a point she would be right.
He didn’t know how to get through to her that Mikhail was bad news and wasn’t what she needed. And, yet, she would just reply that they needed Mikhail for the money. Chris knew in his heart he would not win her over with words. It was going to be a long slow process and much of it she would have to experience herself. He had faith that Mikhail would put her in a situation that would open her eyes to the truth—be it sex or whiskey, it would be all she would ever mean to him.

As soon as Mikhail was gone, Rochelle spun on her heels.
“Really, Chris? You had to cock your gun because of him? He hasn’t done one thing to cause you to distrust him. Maybe you’re just scared of Russians.”

Chris couldn’t help but laugh at her.
“Every single one of them had guns. How come you didn’t say anything to him or ask him if he’s scared of a black man? Oh, yeah, you like to be made love to.” And with that Chris turned his back and walked away.

Anger and embarrassment surged through Rochelle, much like it did the day Jennifer outed her at school about her secret affair with Mikhail.
There was nothing to say to Chris without starting a dialog that would require her to go into detail about Mikhail and her. She wouldn’t lie to Chris, but if she could avoid telling him about her relationship with Mikhail, that was the path she would take.

She followed him into the office and started dividing the money.
She counted out $5,000 for Chris, $2,500 for herself, $2,500 for her mother, and $7,000 to pay taxes. $33,000 would be deposited into Donovan Delights’ bank account.

Rochelle took a minute to make some quick calculations in her head.
What was left of her share of daddy’s insurance money and her share of the bootleg came up to almost $13,000 cash. The candy business’ bank account had a balance of $43,000, and another $5,000 in petty cash. That gave her $61,000 cash. She figured there was $7,000 left on back taxes and less than $30,000 on the farm’s mortgage after mom made a $5,000 payment. Louise still had the majority of what Richard left for her, thanks to Chris—
and Rochelle
.

Next, Rochelle figured out her liabilities.
There was $52,500 outstanding on the warehouse’s ten-year mortgage and $4,000 on the box truck’s loan. With the renovations that Chris made to the warehouse along with the furnishings and appliances, it now had an estimated value of $90,000. The box truck was worth $8,000. Rochelle let a small grin emerge. A conservative estimate gave her a net worth of $60,000. Not bad for an eighteen-year-old black girl on her way to college. She was already looking two weeks ahead for that next $50,000.

Chris could see her lost in thought and knew instantly that she was counting her money.
He smiled, thinking,
if only she knew how much I’ve put away these last few years, maybe she would think as much of me as she does herself or that damn Russian
. But Richard Donovan had taught him to keep his affairs private. There was no need to let other people know what you have or what you desire—not even those who are dependent upon you.

“
Let’s go home. I still have a lot to pack and get ready before Monday.”

Chris answered her, “You head on.
I still have to keep up the farm for your mom and make sure everything looks legit. I have to look in on my own mom as well. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

Rochelle smiled back at him and headed out.
She stood next to her car looking up at the sky, seeing that it was going to be a hot and sunny day. A hundred different thoughts raced through her mind in a confusing maze of dreams. She focused just on college, jammed her audio system, and headed back to the farm.

***

Sunday as the sun was setting, Rochelle walked around the family farm one last time before leaving for college. She walked through the rows of corn thinking of her dad and all the times she ran through them hiding from him as he worked. She rested along the bank of the pond, sitting in her favorite spot where she would just stare across the farm and clear her mind.

She could see Chris through the work shop’s open doors as he worked-out on her dad’s old weight pile.
What she saw was Chris pressing 315 pounds over and over again on the bench press. She was awestruck watching him workout. The sheer size of him would impress anyone. He was tall, lean, barrel-chested and had arms bigger than her dad’s. What really amazed her was his abs and that he had such a defined six-pack despite how much he ate.

“A freak of nature” was how she described him.

When he was done pressing the barbell, Rochelle watched him jump up to grab a bar secured in the rafters of the barn. With a shoulder-width grip, he pulled himself up until his chin was over the bar for twenty repetitions before letting go. The thick muscles in his back formed a distinguishable V-shape. She smiled thinking how powerful Chris’ arms and back were, but how gently he would hold her. She was already thinking about the next time she would be lying in his arms.

As she sat there dreaming, she sensed her little friend was nearby.
Slowly she turned her head and there he was, just forty feet away sitting in a patch of clovers.

“Hey, Peter Rabbit.”

The sight of him eased the sadness of leaving home and leaving her mother alone for the first time. An hour passed with Peter Rabbit staying at her side before he scurried into the safety of the thicket. Rochelle looked up and sure enough, Chris was walking toward her.

“Don’t come over here all sweaty and stinking,” she wisecracked.

Chris looked at her and replied back, “If you’re not careful I might throw you in that pond.” He sat down next to her. “We didn’t get much time to talk today or yesterday. Don’t know if we’re going to talk much at all after you leave for school.”

“It looks like it’s about time for you to harvest the corn.”

“Yeah,” Chris answered. “It’s time for a lot of things.” He quickly ended the small talk and got to the point. “You can’t let this moonshine business control your time at school. You’re there to get that degree and to prove yourself.”

Rochelle looked him in the eye and let him continue.

“I got your mom’s back down here. You don’t have to worry about her. Even if you were here, you couldn’t stop her sadness and missing your father. So let it be. What you have to do is put everything you have into getting through college.”

She smiled and said, “And what else?”

“Don’t get caught-up running with that Russian. He’s not there to go to college or to see you succeed. Contrary to what you might think, he doesn’t love you anymore than he loves any other girl. He wants money, a reputation, and power. I don’t know about his brothers, but he will use whoever and whatever to get what he wants. Don’t run with this boy, okay?”

“Chris Porter, I do believe you are more jealous than concerned.”

“Yeah, well, think what you want. But I know that kid hasn’t asked you to be exclusive with him, and that’s because he’s just using you for his own gratification.”

She changed the subject to business.
“What about the moonshine and the deliveries? As far as getting paid, I’ll have Mikhail pay me so none of his crew plays games and say that they paid you when they didn’t.”

“So I guess after all I just said, you’ll be seeing him anyway?”