The Conglomerate: A Luxorious Tale (38 page)

             
“Huh?” she frowned groggy and perplexed, “what are you talking about?”

             
“You.”

             
Evan glimpsed down and saw an empty bottle of Patron on the floor next to the chair leg. “Oh so that’s why you’re tripping?” she yawned, pointing at the bottle.

             
“Nah, that ain’t why!” he shot back.

             
“What’s the problem then?”

             
“You.”

             
“What could I have done? I’ve been sleep since we got here.” 

             
“You did the very thing I told you not to do,” Reza sneered.

             
“What!”

             
“You lied.”

             
“About what?”

             
“Last night before the party, I asked you if you had been completely honest with me about everything and you said yes.”

             
“And that wasn’t a lie.”

             
“I’ll give you that. It wasn’t exactly a lie. It was a lie by omission.”

             
“So what did I omit?”

             
“That you killed or thought you killed your boyfriend and the dude y’all were sticking up.”

             
Leaning back against the plush white crystal-tufted suede headboard, Evan inhaled deeply and with the roll of the eyes she exhaled audibly. Since Isadora had broadcasted the truth to everyone about Gage’s attempted murder, Reza had been a little standoffish. Evan attributed his quietness to the seriousness of the circumstance. 

             
“I kinda had it in my mind that I’d take that secret to the grave with me.”

             
“Bet you did. You shot that nigga three times in the head and neck like he was nothing to you. I can’t help but wonder if you betrayed the man you loved like that, what could you do to me one day.”

             
“I killed him ’cause he was hitting me and he didn’t want to stop doing robberies.”

             
“I’m sure not wanting to share that six million with him didn’t have anything to do with it.”

             
“Getting Gage that night was about chance and opportunity.”

             
“If dude would’ve of gotten his hands on that six million he would’ve retired from robbing.”

             
“You don’t know Gage. He wouldn’t have flipped the money. He wasn’t a hustla, that’s why we had to keep doing those licks. Gage loved to spend big, and then add in his love of cocaine and gambling. That six million would have been gone in less than two years.”

             
“That’s probably true, but the money was a big factor. Admit it.”

             
Evan shook her head, “No.”

             
“Admit it!” Reza screamed aiming the gun at her.

             
Terrified, Evan yelled, “okay-okay it was a big part of my decision. I saw the money and I knew that was my chance to get away from him. I was miserable with him. He’d become nothing more than a violently mean coke addict. He was never going to let me go.” Tears streaming down her face Evan cried, “I would never do that to you.”

              Reza lowered the gun, “That’s a shame I have to put the pistol on you to get the truth. After what I heard in that office I just don’t think I can ever have any kind of trust for you. I was stupid to think that this could work when I knew that I could never fully trust you.” He raised the gun and aimed it her again.

             
“What are you doing?”

             
“Killing you before you kill me.”

             
“If you kill me you will murder your child.” she warned.

             
“Huh?”

             
“I’m pregnant.”

             
Reza squeezed the gun’s lever. Three loud blasts rang throughout Evan’s mansion, shattering the home’s  serene silence.

***

Zay pulled opened the glass door to the Pancake House and bumped into his attorney as he was leaving.

             
“What’s up Scott? How is everything?” Zay extended his hand.

             
“Pretty good,” Scott shook Zay’s hand. “Glad you made it before I took off.”

             
“It was a wreck on seventy-seven. I got stuck in one of those spots where I couldn’t get to an exit.  What’s going on though?”

             
“You remember Detective Blankenship, the white detective from your wife’s assault case.”

             
“Yeah.”

             
“He’s my frat brother and college roommate. Blankenship isn’t a dirty cop. He does give me the heads up whenever it involves my clients.”

             
“So what they still think I got something do with Dawhar’s disappearance?”

             
“No, the police have issued a fugitive warrant on him. However, Blankenship says his partner, Detective Sanders, is borderline obsessed with Dawhar.”

             
“The black detective?” Zay asked.

             
“Yes.”

             
“Ya man ain’t lying. That detective was acting like groupie around Dawhar.”

             
“And it seems that he’s still a fan and for some reason he blames you and your wife for Dawhar’s down fall.”

             
Zay twisted his face, “You have to be kidding,”

              “Unfortunately I’m not. Sander’s wanted to know who you were that such respectable and affluent people alibied you. He’s been digging.”

             
“What did he find?”

             
“Nothing of evidentry value. He knows your net worth and he doesn’t believe all your money is clean. Therefore he’s given your name to the narcotics unit to be looked at.”

             
“Are you fucking serious?” Zay looked up at the sky shaking his head. Just when one issue was close to being fully resolved, here was something else that he deemed as bullshit being tossed at him.  “Un-fucking-believable.”

             
“That joint taskforce between the narcotics unit and DEA that was put together a year ago just went to the grand jury with some major charges on a lot of people locally and nationally.” Scott looked Zay directly in the eye and sternly warned. “You need to be careful, because when the indictments come down people are going to be looking for deals. The investigators are going to be tossing your name at them asking what they know and have they done business with you.” 

             
“And all it takes is a few of them to lie and they’ll hit me with conspiracy charges.”

             
“It isn’t that simple anymore, DA’s now have to have actual evidence,” Scott stated assuring. “If you’ve never been caught with any drugs, caught discussing drugs on wire taps, and you have a legitimate income that matches your lifestyle. The testimony of a would be co-conspirators isn’t enough.” he looked at his watch. “I have to get going we can finish this my office later. In the meantime, watch your back and keep your hands clean.”

             
“Thanks Scott,” Zay shook his hand once more and headed towards his car.

             
The previous night’s events had finally taken a toll on Rico and Tony; the recently freed brothers were both sound asleep in the backseat of Zay’s car. From the passenger seat Joey had been on pins and needles while watching her husband talk with his attorney. She could tell by Zay’s demeanor during the conversation that the news wasn’t good. Silently, Joey prayed that the police were not coming after Zay for Dawhar’s murder.

             
Zay was only half way in the car when Joey started questioning him.

             
“What was Scott talking about?”

             
Still processing the information himself, Zay didn’t say anything. Looking at Joey he came very close to lashing out at her. Feeling that if she’d listened to him about Dawhar. The chain of events that had been set off by the assault on her would have never happened. He had to remind himself that it could have happened even if she had taken heed to what he said. 

             
Joey rubbed his thigh, “Baby, are you okay? What did he tell you?”

             
Wisely, he continued to sit quietly thinking before he spoke. Just as much as he’d been ready to blame her seconds earlier, as her husband, he still needed to protect her.  In order not to scare, or extremely stress her out, Zay chose not to divulge all that he’d been told. Keeping it light, he replied, “Scott was just telling me that I need to lay low for a while and not to get caught up in anything.”

             
“Why?”

             
“It’s Indictment Time.”

Chapter Thirteen

              Gage and Isadora had flown straight to Belize, the country where Isadora’s mother resided. Shortly after Marshawn’s murder, their mother left the states and vowed to never return. Five years had passed since Isadora had visited with her mother. Visits for Isadora were hard, because after her brother’s death her mother went through an arrested development. After Marshawn died the world went on for everyone else, but it completely stopped for his mother. 

             
Isadora’s mother’s home and life was a shrine of Marshawn. Being in her mother’s home was like reliving her brother’s death each time she went there. It was too much for Isadora to deal with, after every visit she’d return to the states and slip into a deep depression that would last for weeks. Upon returning from the last visit five years earlier Isadora decided that it would be her last. Though she stopped visiting, Isadora spoke with her mother by phone weekly and sent money monthly.

             
The couple had been in Belize for a week, but had yet to see Isadora’s mother.  After being away for so long Isadora didn’t want to show up at her already fragile mother’s door swollen and covered in bruises. Instead of going to her mother’s home in Belize City, they went to Cayo Espanto, Belize; a private luxurious five-star resort island.  The resort comprised of seven water front villas and only accommodated eighteen guests at a time, which was great for them. They were able to get the only over the water bungalow, which totally isolated them from the other guest giving the couple the seclusion that they desired.

             
Under the influence of percocet and hydrocodone Isadora slept the first few days, only awaking to eat, bathe and get spa treatments. Her face and body benefited greatly from the rest and by the fourth morning, Isadora had recovered almost ninety percent from the bad beating she’d received in Joey’s office. Isadora spent the other days laying up with Gage, enjoying the resort’s white glove butler service. Although they had been alone for six days in a bungalow, only a little over one-thousand square feet—they had not talked in depth about the gigantic neon green elephant in the room; Gage’s true role in Marshawn’s death. However, they did touch on the subject lightly on the jet ride to Belize, and that was just to agree to talk about the ultra-sensitive topic at a later date when their emotions had calmed.

             
On the couples eighth and last evening at the resort, Gage had the staff set up their meal on the dock of the bungalow while Isadora was asleep. When she awoke, Isadora’s mood was a little salty, but she thought that his gesture was nice and romantic. During the beautiful dinner beneath the Caribbean sunset, Gage talked non-stop about all the different ways he wanted to spend their newly acquired millions. He mentioned extravagant homes, hundred thousand dollar cars, and jewelry including a twenty carat flawless diamond engagement ring for Isadora. 

             
Gage might as well have been talking to himself, because Isadora had checked out of the conversation and the meal as soon as he started talking about the money.  Isadora sipped flute after flute of champagne while watching Gage’s mouth move, but not hearing a word he said. During a brief break in his soliloquy, Gage finally noticed that Isadora’s mind was not there.

              “What’s up with you Dory? You haven’t said a word or touched your food.”