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Poison Candy - Book 2: Behind Closed Doors Series Page 13


  “So, we rule out the “House of gods theory’ and focus on the web shop, because our killer could ‘unknowingly’ be communicating with us?”

  “Don’t you agree our resources would be better utilized that way? We have responded to the email. I’m almost certain that we will receive a response. And when we do, we zero in like a bull’s eye, dispatching a team of officers to pick up the trail.”

  “Providing that the person returns to the same location.”

  “Most criminals love familiarity. They don’t travel too far from home. I’m sure this individual will return to that web shop.”

  “But what if they don’t?”

  “Let’s hope that they will…it’s a better risk to take than to run around the island, trying to find this ‘supposed’ secret organization.”

  “Well, you can ask the Inspector to assign a couple of rookies in an unmarked police car to stake out the place,” Karissa offered. “Then have your work emails transferred to your smartphone. That will solve two things: It will be easier to pinpoint the exact time the email was sent. And, you will have police officers already waiting in the area to capitalize on any suspicious behavior.”

  Richard smiled, thoroughly impressed with his partner’s quick mind. “Whenever you make great suggestions like that, it makes me want to hug you.”

  Karissa chuckled. “At this hour of night? No, thank you. I get carried away very easily.”

  It was Richard’s turn to laugh. A beat of silence passed between them before Karissa tore her eyes away from Richard. “Okay…next question. What are you gonna do with the Anwar Daxon theory? You know his parents came in last week to file a missing person report.”

  “The jury is still out on that one,” Richard answered. “During Jorge’s last seconds alive, I was convinced that Jorge had scribbled Anwar’s name in the dirt and that maybe Anwar was on the run for killing his best friend. Now, I’m not so sure. In light of this anonymous email, I have come to believe that that too could have been a diversion. Anwar went missing around the same time Jorge and Chazz were murdered.”

  “Wow. This could turn out to be a triple homicide,” Karissa said. “Do you think we have a serial killer on the loose?”

  Richard smiled salaciously, “Now that is a very interesting thought. I love how your mind works, Detective Middleton.”

  Karissa smirked, allowing her eyes to linger on Richard a little longer than normal. He had the most attractive-looking forehead she’d seen on a man. They’d been passing around sexual innuendoes all night, but she was enjoying every bit of it. It made her long hours at work go by a little faster. She stood to her feet, this time stretching as Richard had done earlier.

  “Well, I think we’d better call it a night,” she said. “I’m bone tired.”

  “I agree. Would you mind if I walked you out?”

  Karissa rolled her eyes playfully. “Not at all, Richard, not at all.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ms. V stepped back into the form fitting dress she’d taken off fifteen minutes ago to have a quick roll in the hay with one of Gregory’s men. She didn’t find him remotely attractive, but it was the easiest way to get him to do exactly what she wanted him to do. He was chief of security and whatever directives he shot down the line to his subordinates would be followed to the letter without her having to interfere. With a snobbish sneer that seemed to be permanently glued to her face, Ms. V swayed over to the bar and poured two-half glasses of cognac. She returned to the room and handed one of them to the man.

  “Now what is it you were saying about Dallis?”

  “I think she knows where Anwar is. She’s a bundle of nerves and that’s not like her.”

  “Of course she knows!” Ms. V exclaimed. “You saw her in St. Elmo’s Valley, waiting in front of that hog pen Anwar calls a home. He must have contacted her. To this day I still don’t understand why you pursued her.”

  “We thought she had hidden Anwar in the car,” the man said in his defense. “We simply wanted to confirm that.”

  “What were you expecting to do? Run them off the road into a ditch?”

  The man smirked. “Something like that, but we got derailed by Richard Shelby.”

  “That was a very thoughtless move. Richard and that diva of his are like two little annoying leeches – looking for anything to latch on to. Be careful. I don’t wish to send them to an early grave. But if I have to, I will. I bet they are chewing their fingernails, trying to figure out what happened to those license plates.” Ms. V took a swig of her cognac. She pointed at the man and said firmly, “Don’t you ever do something stupid like that again. I have always depended on you to carry out my instructions the way I give them.”

  “I understand.”

  “Now, let’s talk about Gregory for a little while.”

  “What about him?”

  “Drastic measures will have to be taken,” Ms. V said matter-of-factly. “Gregory has changed…something’s going on with him, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

  Still naked, the man turned on his belly in Ms. V’s bed. He cocked a mischievous grin and replied, “The way you satisfy me, Viola, you could get me to do anything for you. Just say what you want and I’ll make sure it’s taken care of. You know I can’t stand Gregory. His wife wasn’t enough for him; he had to be greedy and snag you.”

  “Maybe I give it so well that I made him forget about his wife.”

  The man sneered at Viola’s words. “You’re right, you are very addicting. That’s why it’s not wise to fall in love with you.”

  That elicited a devilish smile from Ms. V. She enjoyed hearing about her sexual expertise. She cleared her throat and said in a crisp tone, “Okay, my little Romeo. Let’s get back on track.”

  “Just say the word.”

  “Only certain places of Gregory’s home have been bugged. But I want the entire compound to now come under surveillance. From the toolshed to the dog house. I need conversations to confirm my suspicions.”

  “Gregory knows the drill,” the man said. “He’s not going to bring up anything relating to the organization at the house.”

  Ms. V waved him off. “Do it anyway. A desperate man makes mistakes, especially if he feels as if his family is being threatened.”

  “Do you think Gregory is desperate?”

  “Not only is he desperate, he’s gay.”

  The man chuckled at the unexpected outburst. “Gregory? Gay? I don’t think so.”

  “Or maybe a bisexual. Why else is he keeping Izaiah for himself? Do you realize that he is the only recruit that Gregory hasn’t brought to me?”

  “Not every catch is as easy as the previous one.”

  Ms. V lifted her lips into a scowl. “Garbage!” she spat. “Gregory’s planning something. I can feel it. Didn’t he hand the pulpit to Izaiah last Sunday? Gregory has an inferiority complex, among other things. He would never give up his pulpit to anyone. Believe me, Gregory has turned his affection toward the same sex, because only a man consumed with lust would do something irresponsible like that.”

  “That’s a bit cynical to say.”

  “Whose side are you on? I thought you hated the man.”

  “I’m sorry, Viola. I just find that hard to believe. What do you want me to do about Dallis?”

  “Make sure her room is the first to be bugged. If she knows where Anwar is, hopefully it will be revealed in a phone call. Bug the cell phones as well –”

  “Now, that may be a little harder to do.”

  “I don’t care; just make it happen!”

  Ms. V’s instructions were interrupted by a commanding knock on the door. She placed a finger to her lips, signaling the man was to remain where he was. Moving swiftly across the floor plan of her suite, Ms. V arrived in front of the door, irritation swathing her visage. She did not like being disrupted when conducting business.

  “Who is it?” she called out.

  “Mustafa,” came the heavy accent from the other side. “I hav
e come back for my Anwar.”

  “Anwar’s dead!” Ms. V deadpanned. She wasn’t sure that was the truth, because they were still searching for Anwar. But Ms. V knew it would be enough to get that fat whale off her back. “I have a dozen other men to choose from. Go to your suite and I will have them sent up in a few minutes.”

  “I want to see his body!” Mustafa cried.

  “What is wrong with you, Mustafa? GET away from my door!”

  Ms. V spun in a fit and marched back to her bedroom. The Arabian was one of the organization’s wealthiest clients, but Ms. V didn’t care if he decided to take his billions somewhere else. Never in her life had she seen a client so hung up on one of her recruits.

  ****

  That evening, before he turned in for bed, Gregory decided to pay Dana a visit to her room. He gave a hesitant knock on the door and waited to be invited in. Before Dana’s injury, he would have simply barged in without her permission. But things were changing in him and it felt as if he was about to have a breakdown of some sort. Maybe it was because Frank Dubbin had been filling his head with that ridiculous dogma, or maybe it was Viola’s quest for power, which had almost gotten his wife killed. And maybe he should blame Izaiah’s sermon last Sunday for contributing to this mix of confusion. Together, it all came off as a stinging rebuke to his sin.

  However, Gregory knew within himself, he was simply searching for a reason to turn his life around. Deep down, he was weary of the double life. And even though he had faintly heard Dana invite him into her room, he contemplated turning away. He did not want her to question him about the changes he knew were becoming visible to everyone. But he twisted the knob anyway and entered in. He closed the door behind him and stared at his Dana, who for some reason had a peaceful smile attached to her face. He moved his eyes downward and noticed that a Bible was open in her lap.

  “I’m surprised you’re not sleeping,” he said. “It’s late.”

  “Gregory, is that really you?” she inquired. “I can’t remember the last time you’ve paid me a visit to my bedroom.”

  You don’t remember because you are missing two months of memory, Gregory thought. But by the same token, he was thankful that Dana didn’t remember, because his last visit had been totally embarrassing. In a whirlwind of fury, he had confronted Dana about her unwillingness to join the family for breakfast one morning. Things quickly turned violent. He had yanked the chair from beneath Dana, causing her to crash to the floor. He then dumped a few expletives on top of her head and scurried out of the room. Thinking about it now made Gregory cringe with regret.

  “I just wanted to see if you needed anything,” he told her.

  “Rose is doing an excellent job of catering to my physical wounds. My family is doing a better job with my emotional needs. What more can I ask for?”

  Dana’s words had a sense of conclusiveness to them and Gregory couldn’t decide what to say next. “Well, I won’t keep you,” he finally said. “You need your rest.”

  He turned to leave, but Dana stopped him.

  “I’ve been resting all day,” she said. “Come sit next to me for a few minutes. I want to talk to you about something.”

  Right where he stood, Gregory felt his heart take a leap, because he was always on guard to hear the worse. He did not know how much Chazz had told Dana about the House of gods and of his involvement in the secret sect. But one thing was for sure, Gregory feared that peaceful smile on Dana’s face would morph into an ugly scowl the minute her memory kicked in. And Gregory was not sure he wanted to be around when it did.

  “Candi told me that Asia went to St. Elmo’s Valley to Jorge’s funeral,” Dana began. She closed the Bible and rested it on the nightstand. “For starters, I didn’t know that Jorge had been killed. First Chazz and now Jorge? What other shocker do I need to know before I get my memory back?”

  “We were only trying to protect you, Dana. Besides, those events occurred during or shortly after your incident at the art gallery. So it was decided that it wasn’t necessary to upset you about the news.”

  “But Jorge has been dead for over three weeks. I should have been told sooner.” Dana let out a quick sigh. “I assume Asia is out of sorts about Jorge’s death. No wonder she seemed secluded whenever she came to visit me at the hospital.”

  “Asia is too stubborn,” Gregory said grumpily.

  “She is in love with that boy,” Dana said. “I can understand why she would want to attend his funeral.”

  Gregory stared intently at his wife and then asked, “How much did Candi tell you?”

  “Enough to know that you’ve kicked her out of the house and that Izaiah has gone behind her,” Dana replied. “It’s almost midnight. Have you heard from them as yet?”

  “I don’t understand why Candi would run to you about something like this. She knows what condition you’re in.”

  “I’m fine, Gregory. Don’t be upset with Candi. The only thing I’m concerned about is my daughter’s safety. You know she doesn’t have anywhere to go. In light of what has happened to me and to those two young men, aren’t you the least bit afraid of what could happen to Asia? I think you should put your pride aside and go search for our daughter.”

  In the past, words like that coming from Dana would have gotten a sharp response from Gregory; instead he simply nodded and then stood to leave a second time. As a matter of fact, he had been concerned about Asia the minute she walked away from him after their argument in the driveway. Because Gregory knew that Izaiah would take good care of her, he didn’t feel forced to take action. Right now, he was more thankful that his wife’s memory hadn’t returned, because if it had, she wouldn’t be as relaxed as she was.

  “Gregory, before you leave,” Dana said, “would you mind if we hold hands and pray for a few minutes? Ever since my incident, I’ve found myself wanting to renew my relationship with God. I am grateful that my life has been spared and the least I can do is show my gratitude. Prayer these past few days has been so refreshing.”

  The feeling of conviction slammed into Gregory like a freight train. It was his fault Dana had cheated on him. It was his fault that she had almost died at the hands of the secret organization that he was involved in. It was his fault Chazz and Jorge had lost their lives in a struggle to maintain their integrity. And it was his fault that everything seemed to be falling apart. When Gregory reached over and took Dana’s hands into his, a film of tears had already settled at the bottom of his eyelids. He listened as Dana took the lead in one of the most heartfelt, passionate prayers he’d heard in his life. His emotions at that point made a complete fool out of him.

  “…and Lord, I decree wholeness and restoration upon my wonderful husband and upon our marriage. We both have made numerous mistakes and we have hurt each other in ways that should have torn us apart for good, but You have kept us together under one roof. I believe You have given us another chance to work on our relationship. From this very moment, help us to communicate without disrespecting one another. Help us to love without dissemination. Help us to trust without suspicion. No one has ever told us that the road to recovery would be easy. But with Your strength, oh God, we can survive the greatest test that is thrown into our path. Bless our marriage, bless our children, and bless our family…in Jesus’ name, Amen.”

  Gregory released Dana’s hands, completely awash with tears. His wife hadn’t prayed like that since the girls were in junior high. Unable to say anything else, he walked out of the room and quietly closed the door behind him. He managed to make it to his room without encountering anyone. There, in his nicely made-up bed, Gregory lay prostrate and buried his face in one of the pillows.

  Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets

  - Paul Tournier

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Early Monday morning, Candi was ready to head out to work at the Bliss Community Bank after having spent six months in Cayman. However, she decided to take a stroll to the guesthouse to greet Izaiah before she left. Nothing like a
man waking up and seeing the face that would be in his thoughts all day. She was attired in a dark grey business suit. Her hair was pulled back into a clean bun, with loose strands hanging over her face. Candi hoped Izaiah would be pleased with her appearance. She hadn’t seen him for all of eighteen hours – the amount of time since he’d foolishly taken Asia to Jorge’s funeral in St. Elmo’s Valley.

  Candi knocked on Izaiah’s front door several times before garnering a response. She watched as the door opened slowly and with a cheerful grin, she waited to behold Izaiah’s handsome face. But to her dismay, it was Asia’s face staring back at her. Candi stepped back, fighting two reactions at the same time. She was stunned to see her double-crossing sister, but was insanely jealous that her sister had spent the entire night with Izaiah – probably doing things she’d done with Jorge.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Candi inquired stiffly. “Daddy has been looking all over Bliss Haven for you!”

  “If he kicked me out of the house,” Asia dragged, “why would he be remotely concerned about where I am?”

  “That’s not the point, Asia! You know better than to be sleeping in the guesthouse with the youth minister.”

  Asia looked at her sister sideways. “You mean, you would rather it be you sleeping in Izaiah’s bed?”

  Candi gasped, suspiciously cataloguing Asia’s appearance. “You slept in Izaiah’s bed? Doing what?”

  “Making out and it was real good,” Asia retorted. “He has been there, supporting me when my family turned their backs on me. What do expect me to give him in return? A friendly slap on the back? Izaiah deserves more than that.”

  “But Asia, he’s the youth minister. How dare you seduce him into something you know is wrong?”

  “As if you weren’t trying to do the same since the first day you came back from Cayman.”