The camera returned to the reporter. “Witnesses say that a silver Jaguar was seen speeding away from the scene. Chicago police are asking people to come forward and call Crime Stoppers if they have any information. This is Wesley Wallace for ABC 7 Chicago. Back to you, Mark.”
The scene shifted to the studio and the news desk.
“Thank you, Wesley. And in related news, John Mitchell Lender, CEO and founder of Lender Pharmaceuticals, was found dead this evening in what is believed to be a self-inflicted gunshot wound. Police are not saying if the two shootings are in any way connected. Lender Pharmaceuticals develops and produces medicines and vaccines for a wide range of medical disciplines and has a net worth in excess of fifty-four billion dollars. We will keep you posted as we learn more information.”
Davis turned off the TV, and all the brothers turned back to stare at Paul.
Paul sat back in his chair, not knowing when he’d shifted forward in his seat. Hearing them talk about Simone had made him cringe with hurt, hating that what had happened had been reduced to an assortment of emotionless soundbites. But the revelation that John Mitchell Lender was dead suddenly splayed his curiosity wide open. “Was it a suicide?” he questioned, turning toward Parker.
Parker and Armstrong exchanged a look. “We don’t think so,” he answered. “It’s just too convenient and the initial forensics don’t support that story. But someone has gone to great lengths to make it look like one. And conveniently, the gun found beside him was the same caliber as the weapon used to shoot Simone.”
“We’re still waiting on the ballistics report, but I’m betting it’s the same gun,” Armstrong said.
“Which would tie the two cases together and put Simone’s shooting on him. And attribute his death to guilt,” Parker surmised.
“But you don’t think that’s what happened?” Paul asked again.
There was a loud pause, no one saying anything.
“If it were that neat, it would allow your friend Vivian Lincoln to slide right into the CEO position,” Mingus interjected. “She stands to inherit all of his stock, which would give her controlling interest in the business and make her a very wealthy woman.”
“So, the bigger question then becomes,” Ellington added, “what do you believe, Paul? Do you think Vivian Lincoln’s hands are clean in all of this?”
Paul shook his head emphatically. “Hell, no. Not at all,” he answered without hesitation.
Parker nodded. “We don’t think she’s innocent in all of this, either.”
“So how do you prove it?” Davis asked.
Silence filled the space a second time. The quiet felt stifling, nothing but the sound of a ticking clock and the scuttle of nurses on their evening rounds outside the door.
“How about a confession?” Paul suddenly asked.
“We always welcome a confession,” Parker answered. “How do you propose to make that happen?”
Paul stood. “I have an idea.”
* * *
The decision to keep Simone sedated in a drug-induced coma had been for her benefit, giving her body time to simply rest and heal. Another two hours had passed before Paul was able to relieve her mother and sit by Simone’s side. The matriarch hadn’t wanted to move, but Armstrong had insisted, finally convincing his mother that she needed as much rest as her youngest daughter.
Paul anticipated being with her most of the morning until Judith returned, wanting to stay with her baby girl. He fully understood because until Simone opened her eyes and gave him one of her snarky comments, he knew there was little else he’d be able to accomplish. He needed to sleep, but rest avoided him, in case he closed his eyes and missed something. He reached for her medical chart outside the room’s door, reading through all the doctors’ notes. He had a question or two and he made a few mental notes to follow up with them once the staff changed shifts and they made their new day rounds.
She looked fragile, he thought as he stood staring down at her. Her mother had brushed her daughter’s hair, wrapping it with a pretied silk slip-on scarf. He knew Simone would appreciate the gesture. Cords connected her to machines that were monitoring her vital signs. Her blood pressure was still erratic and a cause for concern, but the doctors were still optimistic about her having a full recovery.
Paul blew a soft sigh as he drew the backs of his fingers down the side of her face. She was tough as nails and he trusted that in no time at all she’d be back to herself and giving him a hard time. He didn’t have the same trust about their baby but as one of the nurses had pointed out, they’d seen things happen that none of them could ever explain. It would be God’s will and he continued to pray that God knew his and Simone’s hearts.
He leaned to kiss her cheek then moved back to that recliner. He pushed it closer to the bed so that he could reach out to hold Simone’s hand. It was only hours later, when Judith returned and woke him up, that he’d realized he’d been sleeping soundly, his fingers still locked tightly with Simone’s.
* * *
Paul’s decision on calling Vivian Lincoln to offer his condolences on her loss came with its own level of anxiety. After spending time with Simone and her mother, he’d gone back to Simone’s house to shower and change. Beginning to feel like himself again, he sat down and ate a bowl of cereal and milk. After calling the hospital to check once again on Simone, he sat down to set things in motion, hoping what he planned wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass.
Vivian had been surprised to hear from him, or she pretended to be. Paul had used that to his advantage because he was pretending. Pretending to be a concerned friend as he spun a web of lies as he talked to her.
“I do have some compassion, Vivian. Mr. Lender was a leader in the drug business. His initial efforts in the game served many people well. I believe in giving credit where credit is due. I was also concerned about you. I know this can’t be easy.”
“That’s kind of you to say. He was dedicated to the business. I hate that he was in so much emotional pain that he would take his own life!”
“I also wanted to apologize,” Paul continued. “During your visit the other day we both said some pretty awful things to each other.”
“I agree and I want you to know that I was just talking out of frustration. The lawsuit and all...” Her voice trailed off, leaving the comment open for interpretation.
Paul took a breath. “Let’s not talk about that. Hopefully, with everything that’s happened, we can resolve it privately and make it all go away.”
“If it could be that easy,” Vivian gushed.
“I understand. I also need to apologize for standing you up when we ran into each other in Detroit. My schedule blew up on me and I just needed to take off.”
“I admit, Paul, that did hurt my feelings.”
“I would never purposely hurt you. I’m not that kind of man. In fact, if I’m honest, I must admit that I was a little intimidated. You’re a beautiful woman and you’ve dated some very eligible men, if I believe what I’ve read in the tabloids. I’ve questioned if I would be able to measure up.” Paul was grateful they weren’t face-to-face. He pretended to gag, pointing his index finger toward the back of his throat.
Vivian giggled. “Fake news,” she said. “Most of it anyway. And if I didn’t think you’d make the cut I wouldn’t have shown any interest.” She giggled again.
Paul rolled his eyes a second time. If he could have reached through the phone line he would have pulled her through the device and wrung her thin neck. He’d never been a violent man, but it was taking everything in him not to rage, wanting to punish her for putting Simone in that hospital bed. He took a deep and held it before he spoke. “Well,” he said, another lie rolling off his tongue, “I hope we can still be friends and move forward.”
“About that lawsuit...” she started.
Paul interrupted her. “I regret that as well, bu
t what I was seeing frightened me.”
“I so wish you had come to me first. I’m sure I could have explained everything so that your concerns would have been alleviated. But not to worry. Our team here is handling things.”
“Well, I’m not sure what’s going to happen. I don’t know if you heard, but the attorney on the case was shot in a drive-by yesterday afternoon. They’re not sure she’s going to make it.”
“Tch, tch, tch!” Vivian exclaimed. “I did hear that and it’s such a shame. Have you heard whether or not they have any leads yet?”
“No,” Paul responded. “I do know they’re questioning whether or not Mr. Lender’s death was related. Because of the lawsuit, of course.”
“I do know he was very upset about the allegations against him. But I don’t want you to blame yourself. You couldn’t have known he’d take things so personally.”
“No, I couldn’t have known that,” Paul replied.
There was suddenly an awkward silence and Paul knew he needed to do something to change that. He took a deep breath.
“I don’t want to take up any more of your time, Vivian. I’m sure you need to get back to your family. Perhaps we can get together for a drink sometime soon?”
“How about tonight?” she asked.
The question stunned him, coming out of the blue. He didn’t know what he had expected, but he hadn’t expected her to jump at the bait so quickly. Now he wondered if maybe she had plans for him that he hadn’t anticipated.
After agreeing to meet her, he was even more conflicted when she insisted he come to her home. Her excuses as to why she couldn’t go out had run the gamut from her not being dressed, to the fact she didn’t feel like going out, and each excuse escalated with a hint of sexual innuendo. When they’d settled on a time, he disconnected the call, turning to look at Mingus and Armstrong and feeling like a deer caught in headlights.
“Let’s get a mic and camera on you,” Armstrong said.
“Are you sure she won’t be able to tell that I’m wired?”
“The only way she’s going to know is if you take your clothes off to show her.”
Mingus laughed. “I wouldn’t let that happen if I were you.” He jostled his brother’s arm. “Can you see him trying to explain that one to Simone?”
Paul shook his head. “Not funny. You both know Simone would kill me!”
“That’s putting it mildly. Simone would crush you like a bug, revive you and do it again just to make sure you suffered!”
“Well, since y’all are putting me up to this, I can’t do anything that will get you killed, too. Because she would crush all of us!”
“I know that’s right!” Mingus quipped, still chuckling under his breath.
“Just try to relax,” Armstrong emphasized. “If you get nervous and start sweating you might short out the system and electrocute yourself.”
Paul laughed, the nervous chuckle sounding awkward to his own ear. He was suddenly having second thoughts, questioning if he could do what was needed without showing his hand. Not wanting Simone’s brothers to see his discomfort, he deflected. “So, is this how you all get rid of your sister’s boyfriends?” he asked, trying to ease the tension that had risen in his heart.
Mingus shook his head. “Nah! I just tell them to go away.”
Armstrong nodded. “We all do. We can be very convincing.”
There was a moment of pause and then the three burst out laughing. The moment of levity eased the tension, necessary so that they weren’t all consumed with rage and sorrow, worrying about what would happen next.
“If you get into trouble and need our help, just say your safe word. We’ll be there before you know it.”
“Safe word?”
“Something easy that lets us know you’re in trouble. A word you won’t forget in a pinch,” Armstrong added.
Paul nodded, a slight smile pulling at his mouth. “French toast.”
Mingus grimaced. “French toast?”
“It’s the only thing your sister can cook and cook well.”
Laughter filled the room a second time.
The next few minutes were spent taping a microphone and battery pack to his upper torso so that it wouldn’t be easily exposed. Armstrong explained how the micro camera hidden in his lapel pin worked. After checking all the connections and testing the volume levels, the two brothers wished him good luck and sent him on his way. They followed behind him in an unmarked van.
The ride to Vivian’s was fraught with nervous energy. Paul talked into the microphone the entire time, fighting to dispel the anxiety that had him wanting to turn around and change his mind. The idea of playing on Vivian’s romantic interest in him had sounded like a good idea at first, but now he was having second thoughts. Maybe, he mused, she wasn’t as enthralled as he sometimes imagined. Perhaps she was wanting to get him before he was able to get her. Maybe they were all wrong and Vivian didn’t have anything to do with Simone’s shooting. His cell phone rang, lighting up on the car’s dashboard. He depressed the answer key, the Bluetooth connection filling the vehicle’s audio system.
“Stop talking,” Armstrong admonished. “You’re driving yourself crazy.”
“You’re driving us crazy,” Mingus yelled.
Paul laughed. “Sorry about that. I was just trying to pass the time.”
“Just practice your pick-up lines. This woman is looking to get into your pants. Work that and make it work for you. Show us that romantic side Simone is always bragging about.”
“Just don’t screw this up,” Armstrong chided. “This may be the only opportunity we get to nail this broad.”
Paul nodded, even though neither man could see him. “I know what I’m doing,” he said. He took a deep breath, thinking of Simone and the baby and what had put them all in this position in the first place. After a quick call to the hospital to make sure nothing had changed with her condition, he stepped out of his car. His jaw tightened and his anger rose tenfold, fueling his objective. “I’ve got this,” he said, signaling he was ready. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
* * *
Vivian’s luxurious residence was located in Lakeshore East, in one of Chicago’s newest high-rise apartment buildings. Paul was slightly taken aback when Vivian opened the door wearing a sheer red negligee that was super short and cut extremely low. Double D breasts looked like they were about to explode past the expensive lace and the hem barely covered a matching lace thong. He suddenly broke out into a sweat, fighting not to let his disgust show on his face. Armstrong’s comment about him electrocuting himself suddenly flooded his thoughts.
“Wow!” he exclaimed, as he stepped through the entrance, his grin like a mask settling in place. “I wasn’t expecting...”
Vivian pressed her index finger to his lips to stall his comment. “I thought I’d surprise you.”
“Well, I’m definitely surprised,” Paul said. “You look incredible.”
“You are exactly what I need tonight!” she said as she grabbed his hand and pulled him inside to the living room. “Let me pour you a drink. I make a mean cocktail. Just tell me what your booze of choice is.”
“No. Thank you. I don’t drink.”
“How can you not drink?”
“It’s not a habit I ever picked up because I’m usually on call at the hospital.”
“The hospital is why I drink,” she said. “I’ve always hated pushing meds at doctors, going from door to door like some snake-oil salesman. And everyone there is always sick with some horrible disease.”
“That’s why it’s a hospital!” Paul chuckled. He bit back the snarky comment at the tip of his tongue, wanting to rail at her about the “snake-oil” she and Lender had been peddling to patients.
She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Whatever.” She moved to the bar and poured herself a tumbler of scotc
h. “I’m glad you came,” she said.
Paul faked another smile as he sat down. “Me, too.”
Vivian moved to the sofa and dropped down beside him. “I’ve had a rough few days.”
“I understand. Losing someone you care about is always hard.”
She waved a dismissive hand, but she didn’t say anything.
Paul spoke instead. “I’m glad I can be here to support you.”
“I’m a little confused about that. Every time I tried to hook up with you before, you weren’t interested. Why now?”
“I told you. I was intimidated. I’ve never been a big ladies’ man and I don’t date much.”
“What happened with you and that woman you were dating?” Her brow lifted as she stared at him.
Paul felt the muscles in his face slide into a deep frown, a nervous twitch pulling at his eye. “It didn’t work out,” he lied.
A look crossed the woman’s face. Like she had questions, or maybe knew something he didn’t. Instead of commenting, she took another sip of her beverage. When she spoke, her tone had changed. “You disappoint me, Dr. Reilly.”
Revelation simmered in Paul’s heart. He instinctively knew he had made a mistake as she stood up and moved back to stand in front of the bar. He knew he needed to think fast, still unsure what was going through her head. He took a breath. “Why’s that?” he asked.
“Why don’t you just tell me why you’re really here?”
“You invited me.”
“It’s more than that. You’re here pretending to be interested in me and we both know you’re not.”
Paul continued to play dumb. “Why would you say that?”
“Why did you lie about your girlfriend? I know you were dating that attorney.”
Paul hesitated, meeting her gaze evenly. Something unspoken shifted between them, a battle of wills coming to a head. “Why did you shoot her?” he finally asked.
Vivian stared at him. Her eyes narrowed, the lids hooded as she eyed him. “You really have become a problem,” she answered. She reached for her cell phone and began to text someone a message.
Reunited by the Badge Page 23
