The Family Business (19 page)
Read The Family Business Online
Authors: Eric Pete,Carl Weber
LC
29
“Alejandro, are you able to talk?” I was seated in the conference room at our offices. It had been almost two days since Alejandro and I first spoke about the hijacking. I was not any happier now than I was then. I motioned for Harris to come closer as I placed the phone on speaker.
“Yes, the line’s secure. Speak freely,” he replied.
“There have been new developments on our end. I just wanted to know if you have anything for me. I’m starting to lose my patience about the loss of my product.”
“I can only imagine, my friend. You have remained remarkably calm during a difficult situation. Unfortunately, I have no answers for you. I’m afraid my resources on the East Coast aren’t as reliable or thorough as they should be.”
Does he really expect me to believe that?
I wondered as I glanced over at Harris, who just shook his head. We both knew Alejandro had been supplying the Mexican gangs on the East Coast for years; I had just never cared, because they weren’t anything significant or challenging to my network. Besides, I had some very reliable people I worked with on the West Coast too.
I wondered as I glanced over at Harris, who just shook his head. We both knew Alejandro had been supplying the Mexican gangs on the East Coast for years; I had just never cared, because they weren’t anything significant or challenging to my network. Besides, I had some very reliable people I worked with on the West Coast too.
“Has Miguel helped you any?” he asked.
“No. He hasn’t done shit but proclaim his innocence.” I was starting to get tired of this.
“And what do you think?”
“That he’s a liar,” I replied, my voice rising in the specially equipped soundproof room. “And that you took my money, then sold my shit to someone else.”
“Lavernius, my friend, I give you my word. I have nothing to do with the travesty that has happened to you. I only want good relations between us.”
I sighed long and hard. “You want good relations between us, you fucking Latin viper, then give me my shit back!”
“I give you my word, and then you raise your voice and accuse me of being a snake?” I heard a loud thump, which I assumed was him pounding his desk.
“That’s because you are a fuckin’ snake. You were when I met you, and you are now. But I’m used to dealing with snakes in this business. It’s the thieves and crooks I have a problem with, and you’ve become a first-class crook.”
“I am no crook!” he yelled, his anger matching my own. “I could sell my ‘shit,’ as you call it, to the Italians or the Jamaicans and not have to deal with your arrogance or accusations. I do this only because we were once good friends.”
“That’s right, once good friends. Past fucking tense. Now, who did you sell my shit to?” I asked.
“I don’t believe this. It’s like talking to a petulant child with you.”
“Ha! I’m not the one who killed his own men to cover up my crime.”
This news seemed to take him off guard, as he grew silent for a while. “What are you saying? My men are dead?” His voice cracked. If he was putting on an act to seem innocent, he was doing a damn good job. I still wasn’t convinced, though.
“I told you there have been new developments,” I said coldly.
Harris had gotten a tip less than an hour ago that the truck was in a warehouse up in Orange County, New York. I’d sent Pablo’s brother Carlos and his crew up to check it out, since they were the closest. They reported back that the truck was there, but the car was gone. They also found two dead bodies, two men who appeared to be Mexican. In truth, I wasn’t so sure that the Mexicans were really dead before he got there. There was no one Carlos loved more than Pablo, and if he had the chance to avenge his brother’s murder, well, let’s just say God Almighty couldn’t have stopped him.
“What are these developments?” he asked cautiously.
“We found the truck that your men delivered. My car’s gone, of course, but there are two dead Mexicans there. If we ID them as your men, then we have a serious problem, Alejandro, because there’s no fucking reason that your men should have been anywhere near that truck after it was delivered to my men.”
He remained silent.
“Nothing to say, huh?” I asked. “That’s okay, because remember I still have Miguel, and he’ll eventually spill the truth. If I have to, I’ll rip out his fucking liver to make him talk, and then I’ll mail it back to you.”
“Don’t touch him, Lavernius. I am warning you,” Alejandro threatened.
“My, my, my. You’re awfully touchy about your employee, señor, which is surprising. I mean, if you think about it, Miguel maybe the one who planned the hijacking and then set them up to be murdered. After all, who else knew the truck’s route?”
“He would not do such a thing. He would not betray me.”
As I considered the theory I’d just put forth, I realized it could be true. Miguel might very well be the mastermind of the hijacking. “You seem so sure of Miguel’s innocence, Alejandro. Perhaps you put more faith in your men than is warranted.”
“Lavernius,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “Miguel would not betray me. Miguel is my son.”
This time, I was the one stunned into silence, during which Alejandro’s confidence returned.
He warned, “If you harm my only boy, Lavernius, I promise you I will not rest until one of yours is hanging from a stake.”
I looked over at Harris, who was undoubtedly thinking the same thing I was. Thank God I had not given a final order regarding Miguel’s fate. Family members were generally off-limits, unless you wanted a war. I had no idea that Miguel was family, but that wouldn’t matter to Alejandro. He would not hesitate to even the score if we harmed Miguel.
“Why didn’t you tell us he was your son?” I asked, trying to keep my tone more neutral than it had been.
Thankfully, Alejandro seemed willing to dial his anger back a notch too. “Miguel’s all about proving himself in my organization,” he explained. “He doesn’t want anything handed to him. I’m sure your sons feel the same way.”
“Yes.”
“So, can I speak to him? You have not killed him, have you?”
Hearing the fear in Alejandro’s voice, I realized that holding his son was a dangerous thing, but it was also a good bargaining chip. “No, no, Miguel’s alive. But I’m still not in the mood to share him with you. Not until I check out this trailer personally.”
“You do understand I cannot let you hold my son any longer without a sign of good faith?” he said.
“How about you return the money I gave you and I return your son?”
“You know I cannot do that. It would be an admission of guilt, and I am not guilty of anything. I was thinking more like a sign of good faith on your part. You have my son. For all I know, your people murdered my men and are processing the delivery as we speak.”
“Ridiculous! You already had my money. Why would I jack my own shipment?”
“I don’t know. To discredit me?” he speculated. “Maybe you’re just looking for an excuse to end our arrangement and go with someone else. Still, I’m going to need something to keep this from turning into some very bad shit for both of us.”
“Okay, you’re right. How about I send one of my people to L.A. to keep the lines of communication open until we get this sorted out?”
“Agreed. But I don’t want it to be some flunky. I want it to be someone high up in your organization who you value. One of your family members.”
“Fine,” I answered. As long as we held Miguel, I had to assume that Alejandro would never be stupid enough to harm my family. “I’ll send one of my sons.”
“Fair enough. There is a flight that leaves Kennedy in two hours. I will expect your son to be on it. We will speak again soon.”
I ended the call and sat back in my chair, rubbing my eyes to relieve the throbbing pain behind them. My blood pressure must have been at an all-time high.
“Can this get any worse?” Harris blurted out.
“I sure hope not,” I replied.
“You’re not really going to send one of the boys out west, are you?”
I turned my head to look him directly in the eye. That was enough to let him know his question was a stupid one. What choice did I have but to send someone?
Harris continued. “I mean, now that we know Miguel’s his son, why not give him back to Alejandro? Or at least let him speak to him. We don’t war with these people, LC.”
“Harris, we’re blind right now. Someone’s gunning for us, and we don’t know if it’s Alejandro or someone else. Miguel is our only hope to get to the bottom of all of this. Let’s just hope Orlando can get what we need out of Miguel without hurting him worse than he already is.”
“I hate to say this, but maybe this is a sign that it’s time to get out of all this. Look at it as an opportunity. We’ve got some pretty successful legitimate businesses.”
This wasn’t the first time Harris had suggested this, and once again, it was the wrong time. “I appreciate your idealism, but our legit businesses don’t bring in a tenth of what the dope money does. With our overhead and expenses, things would not be as pretty as they might seem. Besides, there would be blood on the streets if we suddenly left the game. Nature abhors a vacuum. All our lieutenants and their crews would be fair game for every fool wanting to make a name for himself. I go back too far with some of those men to abandon them like that.”
“Look around, LC. There’s blood on the streets already. Alejandro’s people are dead, and Miguel’s damn lucky we didn’t pop him. And just how loyal are your lieutenants, anyway? We still don’t know if Pablo was working with someone against our interests when he got popped.”
“Your arguments aside, we’re staying in the business, and I’m still sending somebody to L.A.”
“Okay. I tried,” Harris said with a shrug. “But you’re not really gonna send one of the boys to L.A., are you?”
“Yes, I am. We have to show a sign of good faith,” I said, shaking my head. “It’ll be okay. We’ll send Rio.”
“Rio?” Harris snapped back. “Rio doesn’t have anything to do with this. He runs a club and distributes designer drugs. You don’t even think of him as an executive.”
“Exactly,” I responded. “He’s not essential to our operations.”
“Damn, LC. That’s cruel.”
“It’s a cold, hard fact. We can still function while Rio gets a little vacation out west.”
“But it could be dangerous. He could get killed.”
“That’s life. Everything we do is dangerous and comes with risk. Do you think peddling club drugs all over Manhattan is safe? Sometimes celebrities and entertainers are more irrational and unpredictable than the criminals we deal with day in and day out. And besides, Rio’s never shied away from wanting to prove himself. Now’s his opportunity.”
“But he’s your son,” Harris said. “How are you going to tell him you’re sending him to his possible death?”
“I’m not. You are,” I stated flatly. “I want you to make arrangements right away for him to be on that flight.”
Harris stared at me for a moment, his face twisting and contorting as he mulled over a response. I could’ve sworn real concern flickered in his eyes for a nanosecond.
“That is, unless you plan on taking Rio’s place. Otherwise, I suggest you get moving so he doesn’t miss his flight.” I sat back and folded my arms.
“Nah, I’m good.” He stepped toward the door. Now that he knew his own ass could be on the line, he was all business, no more protecting his brothers-in-law. “You don’t have to worry about it. He’ll be on that plane if I have to carry him on myself. Should I send a security detail to keep an eye on him out there?”
I shook my head. “No, Alejandro and his people are too smart for that. Our people will stick out like a sore thumb out there among those Mexicans. Rio’s going to have to be on his own on this one.”
Harris
30
I pulled up to the family residence and got out of the car. It was about a thirty-minute ride to the house, but it felt like forever with all the anxiety building up inside me. I loved being LC’s right-hand man and lawyer, but telling my brother-in-law he was being exchanged for that scumbag Miguel was not something I was looking forward to. I just hoped Rio was awake so I could tell him what he needed to know, get him on a plane, and put this whole ordeal behind me.
As I entered the house, I ran into London, with purse and keys in hand, getting ready to exit.
“Oh, honey, you’re home,” she said with such a lack of emotion that I couldn’t tell if she was happy or disappointed to see me. For some reason, my wife was very hard to read as of late. Perhaps it was because my mind was so preoccupied with the task at hand.
“And you’re leaving,” I replied. “Where are you headed?”
“Oh, well, uh, just out to grab some lunch. Maybe go over to Roosevelt Field and do some shopping.” She kept her eyes focused on some point behind me, and the lack of eye contact made me suspicious. I was about to accuse her of something when she offered, “Would you like to join me? I could use the company, and we do need to talk.”
“I wish I could, but I have to do something for your father. Is your mother home?”
“No, she went to a doctor’s appointment.”
I nodded, thankful. I had been dreading the possibility that Chippy would be in the house to ask a million questions about where Rio was going.
“Okay, what about Rio? Is he up? I need to speak to him.”
“Believe it or not, he’s in the kitchen. What do you have to talk to him about?”
“Nothing. Just business.” Now I was the one avoiding eye contact.
“Do you want me to wait for you? I’d love to do lunch. And we really do need to talk.”
Did she want me to say yes? Did she want me to say no? This was the first time she’d spoken more than five words to me since her threat. What did she mean by “we do need to talk”? I was not going to talk with her about that phone call again. I still couldn’t read her, but I thought she was happy—or at least pretending to be. In any case, I had more important things to take care of at the moment.
“Uh, no. You go ahead and enjoy yourself. Buy yourself something nice.”
She smiled. “Don’t worry. I will.”
“Where’s your bodyguard, anyway? I don’t want you going anywhere without protection. These are bad times, London.”
“I know. He’s in the car, waiting for me.” She kissed me on the lips and then galloped off.
She was happy, all right, but I had no idea what she was so happy about. Then again, why shouldn’t she be happy? She had a nice house, a luxury car, the family she had always wanted, and she didn’t have to deal with half the shit I did. I’d be happy, too, if I had nothing better to do than do lunch and have Mommy-daughter time.
I walked toward the kitchen, dreading my assignment. It wasn’t that I was nervous about the assignment LC had given me. I was nervous for Rio, because we were about to serve Rio up to Alejandro. I might as well have been sent to the house to cut his head off and then deliver it to Alejandro on a silver platter. Today’s lunch special: Rio Duncan. Man, I could have used a stiff drink at that moment.
“Harris, what’s up, man?” Rio said upon my entering the kitchen. He sat at the island bar, nibbling on a sandwich and sipping a cup of tea.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
He looked down at his plate. “Just having something to eat before I head down to the office. Figured with everything going on, I should try and get down there before the sun goes down. Show Pop and Orlando a little support.”
“You wanna show the family some support, I’ve got just the thing.” Like an actor who hadn’t expected to win the Oscar, I didn’t have a speech ready. So, without further delay, I just got right to it. I reached into my breast pocket, pulled out an envelope, and threw it down on the bar. It landed right next to Rio’s glass of orange juice.
“What’s this?” He dropped the sandwich, brushed the crumbs from his hand, and then picked up the envelope.
“Tickets,” I said as he pulled the contents out of the envelope.
“Tickets for what?” He began reading the details on the tickets.
“To L.A. We have a job for you.”
“L.A.? What kinda job?” He looked a little upset as he tossed the tickets onto the bar. “Don’t tell me you have some gay man out there you want me to sleep with for information, like you did in Detroit. You can tell my father I’m not a hooker and I won’t be pimped out.”
“It’s not like that, Rio.”
“Then how is it?”
I lowered my head and cleared my throat, wishing I had spent my time in the car preparing a speech instead of worrying. Did I really think he was going to accept his assignment, no questions asked? Now, I had no idea how to sugarcoat this. I went for the straightforward approach. “Well, you know how we’re holding Miguel as a marker ... ? Well, I guess you could say you’ll be a marker for Alejandro.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He pushed his plate away and stood up. I couldn’t blame him for losing his appetite. “Y’all want me to be Alejandro’s collateral?”
“Trust me, Rio, if I was in charge, this wouldn’t be my call.”
He shook his head. “I can’t believe this. Orlando actually wants me to go to L.A. and play hostage? If anything goes wrong, I’m a dead man.”
“Nothing’s going to go wrong. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”
“You can’t guarantee that! I can’t believe Orlando.”
“Orlando has nothing to do with this,” I corrected him. “He doesn’t even know I’m here. This is what LC wants. He’s the one who sent me here.”
I might not have been able to read my wife, but I could read Rio’s expression loud and clear. He was hurt. I would say this about Rio, though: he was loyal to a fault. Once he learned that the order came from his father, he gave up all protesting.
He examined the tickets again and said, “At least it’s a round-trip ticket,” with a nervous laugh.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that my orders were to get him a one-way ticket. I’d opted for a round-trip. It made it feel a little less like I was handing Rio a death warrant—though there was still a good possibility that was exactly what it was.
“Guess I better go get packed, huh?” In an attempt to ease the tension in the room, he added, “Wonder how the weather is. I have this killer purple outfit that has L.A. written all over it.”
I hated to rain on his gay pride parade, but I had to. “Actually, you don’t have time to pack. You have to leave now. A car is waiting outside to take you to the airport. You can shop for the things you need in L.A.”
“Oh, it’s like that, huh? Well, do I at least have time to grab my new pair of sunglasses? Although for some reason I have a feeling the sun is not going to be shining bright.”
I nodded. “The car is waiting.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Rio said. He took one last bite of his sandwich and then looked at me as if to say, “Hey, you never know. This could be my last meal.”
“Fuck!” I cursed under my breath after he left the kitchen. It was tasks like this that made me hate my job sometimes. When my mother-in-law found out it was me who sent Rio to L.A., she was going to hit the roof.
My cell phone rang, and I looked down at the caller ID. “Shit! Not now,” I said and ignored the call. It rang again almost immediately. I knew he would just keep calling until I answered. I hit the TALK button.
“Yeah.”
“Hey, Harris. It’s Vinnie Dash, baby.” Had he been in front of me and not on the phone, he probably would have tried to give me some corny hand-slap secret handshake type of shit.
“Look, Vinnie, now is not a good time. I’m in the middle of taking care of some serious business.”
“I’m sure you are, but that’s because of me, isn’t it? I’m just calling to find out when I’m going to get my money.”
Okay, so now he’d piqued my interest. “And exactly what money are we talking about?”
“The hundred grand you owe me.”
“Hundred grand? Vinnie, I owe a lot of people a lot of things, but I think I’d remember if I owed you a hundred grand.”
“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” he said.
“I’m not acting at all. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” If he didn’t stop bullshitting soon, he was going to be the recipient of all my pent-up tension.
“You and your people put it out on the street that you were paying a hundred grand for any information about that truck.”
Shit. Now I knew exactly what he was talking about. Earlier today Vinnie had called me with a tip on the truck. This information was just what I needed to prove my value to LC, to prove once and for all that I was more than just the convenience of a son-in-law with a law degree. No, I wasn’t a blood Duncan, but surely this would help me move up in rank. His tip had turned out to be right on the money, except for the car being missing from the truck.
“Vinnie, you never mentioned that you were looking for the finder’s fee when you told me about the truck.”
“Didn’t know I had to, but I did give you a tip that helped you find the truck, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, I guess you did, but the car’s not in it.”
“Don’t know anything about a car. I was looking for the truck.” He laughed, probably reveling in the fact that he knew something we didn’t know. Smug bastard.
“How’d you know where the truck was, anyway, Vinnie?”
“Someone offered us the truck. We declined, of course, but still, we acted just interested enough to get a location.”
“Who offered it to you?”
“Now, that’s something you’re going to have to ask my old man about. I can set up a meeting.”
“Let me get back to you on that.”
“That’s up to you, counselor. I just wanna know when I’m gonna get my money.”
“I’ll make arrangements. Don’t worry, Vinnie. You’re gonna get exactly what’s coming to you.”
After I hung up, I walked over to the window and pulled back the curtain. Rio was just getting into the car. He looked over his shoulder and spotted me staring out the window. Slipping on his diamond-studded sunglasses, he waved and then slid into his seat. I watched until the car headed down the driveway and was out of sight.
I called LC and let him know. “He’s on his way. He should be at the airport in fifteen minutes. My men will let me know the minute his flight takes off, and I’ll call you.”
“Good. Junior and I are on our way to the truck. I just texted Paris to meet us up here. Why don’t you check on Orlando and make sure Miguel’s okay.”
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