The Secrets of Paradise Bay (13 page)

“I'm sure you're right,” Zabrinski said. “Just trying to cover all the bases. Have you fired anyone lately?”

Trey thought about Larry Kellogg, whom he'd canned a couple of months ago. It was not an amicable parting. Could Larry have stooped this low? Why now?

“There was someone recently . . .”

Clyde watched the detective write down information on this Larry Kellogg. For Clyde's part, he didn't know the man. Or if he was capable of committing such a crime. What Clyde did know was the description of the suspect, general as it was in the African American community, sounded a lot like the Willie Munroe he had run into at the tavern a few weeks back.

The man was definitely capable of committing the crime, having been there, done that other times. And much worse.

Willie still harbored a grudge against him. And Trey by association. Clyde wouldn't put it past him to have orchestrated this.

Think I'll have to pay the man a visit
, he told himself. Before he made an accusation and involved Trey or the police, it was best to handle this himself. If Willie had gone after Trey, Clyde wanted to make him pay, one way or another; though mindful that this was where he got into trouble before, and had no desire for history to repeat itself. Unless the situation got out of his control.

Ivana sipped on a cup of coffee in the living room. She had a hangover from the night before with one dry martini too many. She was sure Trey's two snoops, Francine and Emily, had reported her every move or misstep back to him. Damn them. She didn't appreciate being spied on. So what if she drank a bit too much at times to cope with things? Or was bitchy. It was none of their damned business.

Ivana pulled the silk and cashmere robe over her bare shoulder and tasted more coffee. Her thoughts turned to where Trey and Clyde might have gone so early this morning. Since they never bothered to tell her, she could only guess. Perhaps it was to get to the dealership first thing, in Trey's obsession to make over Clyde into the man he wanted him to be. She could even imagine them going to a brothel to fulfill the needs that neither seemed to be getting elsewhere these days. Trey had already shown himself to be untrustworthy when it came to sex. So why not corrupt his brother too? Or would she beat him to the punch on that one?

Ivana allowed her mind to indulge the possibility, and the type of demanding lover Clyde might be, when the front door opened, bringing her back to reality. She assumed it was the cook or housekeeper, ready to do their duties while keeping an eye on her.

Instead, it was Trey who walked into the room. He looked disheveled, disturbed.

“What happened?” she asked, expecting to see Clyde over his shoulder, but did not.

“Someone vandalized the dealership,” said Trey.

“My goodness.” Ivana's eyes widened in shock. “Did the police get whoever did it?”

Trey sighed. “I wish. They've got some leads they're following, but I'm not holding my breath for any immediate results.”

Ivana wasn't sure whether to comfort him in her arms. Or remain at arm's length. She wished their relationship hadn't deteriorated to the point where they were pretty much like intimate strangers. And whose fault was that?

“Where's Clyde?” she wondered.

Trey scratched his head. “Damned if I know. We left and came back together, then Clyde got in his car and said there was something he had to do.”

“Such as?”
Perhaps I shouldn't pry as if I have a right to. Clyde's a big boy and is capable of having a life of his own without Trey looking over his shoulder.

“You'll have to ask him. I'm going to take a shower.”

“Maybe I'll do just that,” Ivana said, curious about what his brother was up to when not at work or home. Could he have a lover? Did she really want to know? Obviously Trey had more important things on his mind. This, no doubt, worked to Clyde's advantage. Might it work to hers as well?

 

 

“I'm looking for Willie Munroe.” Clyde stood at the door of the last known address he had for Willie. It was a saltbox house in the seedier part of town.

“He don't live here no more,” a woman said.

She was in her late twenties and pregnant. Clyde considered if Willie might be the father, but decided it wasn't his concern. “Do you know where I can find him?”

“Who's askin'?”

“Clyde. We go back a ways.”

She regarded him suspiciously. “You're probably better off not looking him up for old times' sake. The man is no good.”

Tell me about it
. Clyde wondered what hell he had put her through, if not getting her pregnant. “Sometimes people change.”

She snickered. “What planet you from? Willie Munroe ain't never gonna change. He married my sister, then made her life so miserable that she left his ass, taking their son with her.”

So Willie had a son. Probably did him a favor by being as far away from Willie's bad influence as possible
.

“Sorry to hear about that.”

“Yeah, well, Katie has a real man now, so it worked out for the best.”

Clyde was inclined to agree. “I still need to see Willie. Can you help me out?”

She touched her belly as if to feel the child kick. “I heard he's staying at the Strawberry Ridge apartments off Tulane Road. Don't ask me which one.”

“Thanks.” Clyde looked at her and hoped she wouldn't be bringing up that child alone, only to put the kid at a disadvantage right from the start as too many children were these days.

It took less than ten minutes for Clyde to find the place. He didn't even have to look further, for there was Willie, along with another man. They were standing in front of an apartment talking. Clyde speculated that the man could have been one of the men he saw in the surveillance video, fitting the physical characteristics, with Willie being the other.

Or maybe I'm way off base.
Something told Clyde otherwise. He watched as the other man left, got in a car, and drove away.
Now it's time to find out if Willie was behind the vandalism. If so, he had to be held accountable for it.

 

 

Willie inhaled meth into his nose through a rolled-up dollar bill. He winced from slight discomfort before smiling at the anticipation of the drug taking effect. Already, he felt good this morning, knowing that he had put a serious hurt on Clyde and his brother. Maybe that would teach them a lesson on messing with Willie Munroe. With more to come.

Willie closed his eyes and experienced the high while thinking about Roselyn going down on him. He'd make that come true today and give as much in return, enjoying watching her get off.

The knock on the door startled Willie, caught in his buzz and slightly disoriented. He got up from the couch and lumbered toward the door. Probably Luther wanting to get in on the meth, he thought. Better yet, maybe Roselyn decided to take the day off and spend it with him.

Willie grinned at the latter notion as he opened the door. The smile left his face when he saw Clyde Lancaster standing there, scowling at him.

“What the hell do you want?” Willie tried not to show the trepidation he felt.

Clyde's nostrils flared. “I want to know if it was you and your buddy who used bats to vandalize my brother's car dealership.”

Willie's first thought was to admit to it and dare him to do anything about it. But that didn't seem like his smartest move under the circumstances. “Don't know what you're talkin' about.”

“Like hell you don't!” Clyde barked. “I can tell when you're lying through your meth-stained teeth.”

Sensing that he would not take no for an answer, Willie panicked and tried to shut the door in his face. Clyde blocked it with his arm, forcing it open and propelling them both inside.

Looking around the untidy, cluttered living room with an unpleasant odor permeating the air, Clyde first honed in on remnants of the methamphetamine crystals on the coffee table. Next to that, he spotted two gold pens and a plaque from the dealership—unmistakable evidence that the son of a bitch had been there and taken what was not his.

“You bastard!” Clyde glared at him, lower lip hanging.

Willie growled. “If you want a piece of me, man, take your best shot!”

This show of guts made Clyde hesitate for a moment. He thought back to their last confrontation, and the fact that he nearly killed Willie and ended up going to prison. Did he really want to go down that road again?

Before Clyde could answer the question, Willie charged at him like a bull. Bracing himself, Clyde took the hit, but still went tumbling down from the force. Willie climbed atop him and landed a solid blow to Clyde's left cheek, momentarily dazing him.

“It's time I finished what you started years ago,” Willie spat.

But in that moment, Clyde had recovered, partially blocked the next blow intended for his face, and landed one of his own. Then another, hitting Willie squarely between the eyes.

Willie grabbed his face, moaning, and Clyde hit him again in the soft part of his stomach before flipping them both to the side and gaining the upper hand by getting on top of Willie.

He managed to land a wild punch that hit the side of Clyde's nose, drawing blood. Clyde bit back the pain and smashed a fist in Willie's face, and two more, bloodying it. Raising his fist for another punch, this time to Willie's bad eye, he watched as Willie cowered, trying to cover his face.

“Don't—” he said, whimpering. “Don't hit me no more.”

Clyde shot him a hard look, wanting more than anything to punch his lights out—this time for good. The same way Willie had battered the cars at the dealership. Clyde felt the rage he had nearly a decade ago when he and Willie came to blows. And for the same reason—trying to do right by Trey.

This time, Clyde held up from acting further on impulses. He had no desire to kill Willie or cause serious injury. Or even turn him over to the police. It would only end up leading back to him. Clyde imagined that even Trey would probably place the blame on him, and things between them would go back to where they were before.

Not this time.

He opened up his fist and grabbed Willie by the collar. “You're not worth killing, asshole. If you think you owe me for what went down in the past, the debt has been settled in full by what you and your boy did to my brother's dealership. The cops will never know, and you won't get to see what it's like to spend time in prison for breaking and entering, destruction of property, and more. It's over, Willie, and I never want to see your face again!”

Willie sniffled, but otherwise remained mute. Clyde curled a lip and read into the silence. “I think we understand one another.” He got up off Willie and backed away, keeping an eye on him 'til he was out the door.

By the time Clyde had driven away from the complex, he had second thoughts on coming in the first place. He also felt a sense of accomplishment. He had discovered who was behind the vandalism and dealt with it in his own way. And hopefully, had settled the ongoing feud with Willie Munroe once and for all.

Willie was still in pain when he finally got to his feet, blood spurting out of his nose and mouth. Once again, he had been humiliated by Clyde, who had taken it on his shoulders to protect his big brother's interests. Willie felt lucky to be alive, knowing that with Clyde's temper rivaling his own, the bastard could easily have killed him.

He flopped down on the couch and considered his next move.
If you think this is over, think again. It ain't over 'til I make you wish you'd finished me off while you had the chance.

Willie felt his strength returning on that thought. He reached down and finished off the meth to ease the discomfort and lift his spirits, if only temporarily.

“What the hell happened to you?” Trey watched as his brother practically staggered into the house. Clyde had a bloody nose and a nice-sized welt on his cheek.

“Nothing,” Clyde mumbled. “Just had a little incident, no big deal.”

Trey's brows stitched. “Don't tell me it's no big deal. Who did this?”

Clyde hesitated, looking away, then back at him. “I went to see Willie Munroe—”

“What?” Trey hit him with a look of incredulity that he would actually have gone within a hundred feet of the man he went to prison for. “Tell me you're not serious?” It was obvious to him by the expression on Clyde's bruised face that he was quite serious. “Now why would you do something stupid like that?”

Clyde winced, while offering no response, as Ivana approached them.

“You're hurt,” she said maternally, touching his cheek.

“I'm fine,” he insisted, pushing her hand away.

“I don't think so. I'll go get something to wipe the blood from your nose, since your brother hasn't offered to do anything.” She glared at Trey and headed for the bathroom.

Clyde sniffed and faced Trey. “I thought Willie might have been responsible for the vandalism at the dealership.”

“And so you went after him yourself like the damned Lone Ranger?” Trey said angrily. “What on earth were you thinking, Clyde . . . that you were better equipped to go after him than the police? Do you want to end up back in prison?”

“No, I just wanted to talk to him, that's all. But things got a little out of hand.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“It looks worse than it is,” Clyde said with a shrug.

Trey wanted to feel sympathetic, and maybe he did in a way. But the better part of him was annoyed that Clyde could be so reckless.
Why am I not surprised? Isn't that the way he's been all his life? Why should things change now that he's supposed to be more mature and getting his life in order?

Ivana returned with a wet facecloth and some napkins. “Hold still,” she told Clyde, applying pressure to a nostril to stop the bleeding.

“When did you become a nurse?” Clyde asked, frowning.

“Since you seemed like you needed one.” She wiped his face.

“What he needs is a damned shrink!” Trey blared. “You could have gotten yourself killed. Was it worth dying for in going after this man?”

“No,” Clyde conceded. “It was a dumb thing to do.”

“Well, I'll do something smart for both of us.” Trey took his cell phone from his pocket.

“What are you doing?” Clyde's mouth flew open.

“Calling the police. If you've found out who was responsible for the vandalism, we need to notify the authorities.”

“It wasn't him,” Clyde said quickly.

Trey fixed his eyes. “You're saying Willie wasn't involved in this at all?”

“He didn't do it, man,” his brother insisted. “I checked out Willie's place and his car and didn't see anything that was stolen from the dealership.”

“So why the hell did you get into a fight with him?” Trey asked suspiciously, though he had a pretty good idea.

“What difference does it make?” Ivana asked snappily. “He's home safe now. That's all that matters.”

Trey was taken aback by his wife's acting in defense and being protective of Clyde. Where did this come from? Yes, he knew that things had become more conciliatory between the two lately. Still, Trey had assumed that deep down Ivana still saw his brother as little more than an untrustworthy ex-con taking up space in their precious house. Obviously Clyde's presence, for better or worse, was having a positive effect on her. But at that moment, Trey saw Ivana as interfering in something that was between him and his brother.

“That isn't all that matters,” Trey begged to differ, casting a sharp eye on his brother. “Confronting this man like you did was not only reckless but could've put us all in danger. Is that what you want, Clyde?”

“No, man, it's not what I want.” Clyde's expression turned rigid. “It wasn't my intention to put anyone in danger. I thought Willie matched the witness's description of one of the vandals. I figured if I brought it up, that detective would start asking me all kinds of questions, and didn't want to deal with that. So I tracked Willie down and . . . well, he wasn't exactly happy to see me, so we got it on. I'm sorry. Won't happen again.”

“You sure as hell better make sure of that,” Trey said in a tough tone, feeling it was best in this situation than going too soft on him. “Let the police do their job from now on, and you concentrate on your own.”

“Yes, masser,” Clyde responded sardonically.

“Don't go there.” Trey gave him an uneven look. “I'm not trying to boss you around.”

“Could've fooled me.”

“I just don't want that hot head of yours to cause you to lose your good judgment,” Trey said firmly.
Or make me look bad in my own judgment in attempting to steer you in the right direction.

“I think you made your point loud and clear,” Ivana said.

“Yeah,” muttered Clyde.

Trey could only hope that was the case. The last thing he wanted was to see Clyde get mixed up with the likes of Willie Munroe again—only to wind up back in the slammer, badly injured, or dead.

“Why don't you go clean yourself up?” Trey told him.

“I'll do that. ” Clyde turned to Ivana. “Appreciate your help.”

“It was nothing,” she said, giving him a gentle smile.

After Clyde disappeared, Trey faced his wife. “It's commendable that you think it's okay for my brother to kick someone's ass whenever he damned well pleases, but that's not how it works in a law-abiding society.”

“Don't patronize me,” Ivana replied. “Clyde thought he was helping you. Maybe you should give a little credit where credit's due instead of riding him hard all the time.”

Trey could barely believe his ears, considering how she had been treating him more often than not. “Clyde is not a kid anymore. He's got a felony record. Beating up someone is a parole violation that could get him thrown back in the slammer. If I can impress upon him that provoking violence is not worth losing his freedom, then I sure as hell will do it every time!”

“All right, I get it. Excuse me for caring.”

“You really do care about him, don't you?” Trey studied her face.

Ivana paused. “I thought that was what you wanted when asking me to let him stay with us?”

“That is what I wanted,” he conceded, remembering how difficult it was to get her on board with the idea that they would be housing Clyde once out of prison.

“Are you sure? Otherwise I'll be happy to make his life miserable again.”

Trey laughed. “No, don't do that, please.” He put his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. It felt good to be so close. “Just keep doing what you're doing. Clyde can use a friend. And so can I.”

Trey wished they could remain like that for the rest of the day. Ivana seemed to need it as much as him. Unfortunately, his business had been hit, and it was up to him to hold things together and keep up employee morale while the case was being investigated.