The Iron Tiara

by Beth Flynn

  "I posted bail, but I asked to speak to someone who could confirm that he really wasn't in trouble. That it was a fluke that he'd been stopped and got picked up for an old warrant. That's when I met Detective Cochran." She let out a long sigh. "She was able to confirm what Richard had told me. He'd been staying out of trouble, and it was an old warrant. It wasn't too far into our discussion when she realized I was not a fan of my parents. It wouldn't be a stretch for me to say I let her know how much I despised them.”

  Anthony sat up and leaned back against the headboard. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave Christy his full attention.

  "What about the dealerships?" he asked, trying only to show mild interest.

  "Detective Cochran suspects something has been going on there. Possible embezzlement and connections to an international car theft ring," she said in a hushed tone, her eyes bright with excitement.

  Anthony shook his head. "Wouldn't embezzlement and a car theft operation fall under federal jurisdiction? Like the FBI?"

  "Apparently not." She shrugged.

  "And so you agreed to help her," Anthony said. "That's what you were looking for in their house the day I found you. Something that would connect Van to whatever is going on at Bobbi Bowen's Luxury Autos."

  "Yes." She smiled. "That's what I was doing. Digging for something, anything that might help her prove he is up to something. Right now, their information is limited and they don't even have enough for a search warrant. Don't you see, Anthony?" Christy asked, her eyes wide. "Bobbi must've found out what Van was doing. She would never let him use her auto empire to do something illegal."

  If you only knew, he thought.

  "What does Detective Cochran want from me?" he asked, knowing what the answer was going to be.

  "She wants to know if you've heard anything. I know it burned her insides to say it, but she can't deny that you're a well-connected..." She stopped talking and looked at him.

  "It's okay to say it, Owani. I'm a well-connected criminal, and me and my crew would probably have heard something on the street."

  She nodded hopefully.

  "You can tell her that embezzlement and international car theft is out of my scope of work. I have nothing for you to give her."

  Christy narrowed her eyes. "What about your friend Grizz? Do you think he knows anything?" she asked.

  "Christy, I'm telling you out of sheer love that you need to remove yourself from this. You’re nosing around in dangerous territory. You need to tell Detective Cochran that you asked me, I told you I don't know anything and you cannot be of any further help to her."

  He swiped his hand through his long hair and grunted. "And what is she doing asking you to search your parents’ house? She should follow specific rules of law and evidence. She is not allowed to ask a citizen to do something that she can't legally do herself. Searching a home without a warrant would fall under that. It's unethical."

  She rolled her eyes at his use of the word unethical. He should talk. "She knows that and I know that, Anthony. She didn't ask me. She didn't even hint at it. And when I offered she specifically said ‘I cannot ask you to do that.’ And I made sure she knew that she didn't have to ask. I'm only too willing to search their house on my own."

  "Okay, but she did ask you to ask me."

  "So what? That's not illegal. When I told her I wasn't going to hide what we were talking about from you she said she didn't care. She suggested that maybe you’d heard something. So, I'm asking for a morsel. A tip. Anything I can pass on to her," Christy pleaded.

  "Let Detective Cochran find her own morsels, Christy. I'm putting an end to this right now. You stay away from her. That's an order."

  "You can't tell me what to do, Anthony!" she screamed.

  "I just did!" he screamed back. He exhaled loudly and his expression became softer. He reached for her and she pulled away. "Christy, honey, I'm asking you to stay away for your own good. Please, with everything that is going on, don't you have enough on your plate?"

  She slumped and nodded. "Yeah, I guess I do. It's just that I know Van had something to do with Bobbi's death. He is pure evil." Her expression was pleading and hopeless. “And if there’s no way for me to prove he was the reason for her death.” She paused and looked away. “Then I want to help take him down another way.”

  "Maybe you're right, baby." He reached for her again and this time she welcomed it and moved toward him. "But can't you be happy knowing Van will face justice one way or another? Please walk away from this situation."

  "Anthony," she sighed into his chest, "if Vivian is declared dead, then the dealerships become mine. That means that someone is stealing from me. And I don't care about the money. It's the principle of the thing. I don't like the thought of someone thinking they're pulling the wool over my eyes. Especially if they're doing it under direct order from Van."

  He tucked her head under his chin and wondered how she would react if he told her that Van wasn't the mastermind behind the international auto theft ring. As a matter of fact, Anthony was certain Van didn't even know about it.

  He stared at their reflection in the mirror over his triple dresser and inhaled the enticing aroma of her silky hair. His fingers traced a line up and down her side as he wondered, What would she do if she knew that the man who was stealing from her dealerships was the same man who was holding her in his arms?

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Naples, Florida 1978

  The hammer came down hard, and red-hot sparks floated through the air. Naked from the waist up, Anthony's dark brown skin glistened beneath layers of sweat. He always found solace in his shop. The physical exertion of blacksmithing not only contributed to keeping him in excellent physical shape, but provided a mental outlet as well. And right now, he needed to burn off his anger at not just Christy's reluctance to marry him, but her willingness to act as an unofficial informant for the police.

  He put his hammer down long enough to stoke the flaming embers that shone bright red and contributed to the sweltering heat in his workshop. He had a quick memory of the old blacksmith who'd temporarily hired an eight-year-old Anthony and his father to do some odd jobs. He'd noticed Anthony's interest and showed him some basics before the father and son moved on to the next job. The heat and isolation of his garage reminded Anthony of a Native American sweat lodge, and when opportunities arose he'd continued to hone his craft. He was grateful that the house he'd purchased provided an excellent space in the garage for him to set up a shop. It was his only hobby and even though he wasn't the best artisan, he knew his work showcased a talent that would surprise most people.

  He'd been working on a wedding gift for Christy. A gift that he was going to present to her after they'd been officially pronounced husband and wife by the state of Florida. Unfortunately, he could take his time to perfect the gift because even after explaining to her that he loved her and wanted to give her his name, she'd still refused and even turned up her nose at his offer to sign a prenuptial agreement. He didn't need or want Christy's money. She offered no explanation other than she didn't see a reason for them to be formally married unless she became pregnant. She would want their child to have his name, so of course, she would marry him if that happened.

  His long black hair stuck to his back as he wielded another blow. He thought about how just last night Christy had finally gotten around to asking him about the large sum of money that Van owed. She was surprised when Anthony told her that Van had been borrowing from him for quite a while, and always paid on time and with interest. She knew that her stepfather had some unsavory habits and vices, but she hadn't realized they'd become so out of control he couldn't cover them with his monthly dealership dividend and the allowance that Vivian had been giving him.

  After the death of her mother, Vivian Chapman had become the sole heiress of her estate which included several luxury automobile dealerships on the west coast of Florida. Anthony shook his head in disgust when he thought of how Van Chapman was managing to r
un the businesses into the ground in the four short years since his mother-in-law's death. Between his expensive drug addiction, high-priced whores and penchant for betting on everything from horses to baseball, he was blowing through what had to be a substantial fortune. Bobbi Bowen must be doing somersaults in her grave, Anthony thought to himself as he swiped his arm across his sweaty brow and reflected on the secret business arrangement he'd had with the elderly woman. An arrangement he'd not yet disclosed to Christy.

  It's not like Van wasn't honoring the agreement Anthony made with Bobbi before her death. Van didn't even know about it. Anthony dealt with two contacts that Bobbi had handpicked to work with him. Unfortunately, Van's proclivity for hard drugs and heavy spending had rendered him practically useless when it came to presiding over the dealerships. Their bottom line had recently been taking a hit due to his mismanagement. And a bad bottom line meant it was becoming increasingly difficult to bury evidence of Anthony's illegal business transactions in their accounting ledgers. Anthony had recently discussed this with his contacts at Bobbi Bowen's and they were trying to come up with a plan to see what could be done. Finding out that not only was Van indirectly hurting his clandestine operation but that the man had been in arrears on his personal loans only fueled Anthony's irritation, and his hammering quickened along with his frustration.

  He had to take a calming breath as he thought about how all this could've been avoided if Denny had been direct months ago. But why would he have been? Denny knew Van always paid so he was certain he could extend credit and make a little for himself without anybody knowing. What a poor choice that had turned out to be for Denny. And Van.

  Thinking about the Chapmans only made him angrier, and using the tongs, he hurled the object he'd been working on through the air. It hit the wall with a loud clang.

  "What was that?" a soft voice asked from behind him.

  Anthony spun around and saw Christy staring at him, her eyes huge and curious.

  They got wider as they took in his appearance. He still held the hammer in one hand and the tongs in his other. His breathing was heavy as his eyes raked over her. He threw both tools to the floor and the loud clatter caused her to jump. He approached her slowly, his dark eyes blazing and his skin slick.

  He grabbed her by the back of her neck and brought his mouth down hard on hers. There was no tenderness in his kiss, just raw need. He backed her up against a wall and undid his belt. After freeing himself from the confines of his tight jeans he yanked her shorts down roughly.

  "Anthony?" she sputtered. "Anthony, what...what are you doing?" She'd never seen him like this and didn't know how to react. He hoisted her up and pressed her hard against the garage wall.

  "Wrap your legs around me," he barked. After arranging it so their bodies would meet in perfect unison, he plunged deeply and watched her expression change from one of concern to one of need and carnal lust.

  "What am I doing?" he asked, mimicking her question, his voice throaty. "I'm getting you pregnant."

  Chapter Forty

  Naples, Florida 1978

  Anthony and Christy's lives seemed to blend seamlessly despite their diverse backgrounds. They stayed busy, and Anthony’s marriage proposal and Christy's refusal wasn't mentioned again. Anthony finally took Christy back to Camp Sawgrass and wasn't at all surprised that she was able to endear herself to some of the regulars. She was sincerely concerned about their health and general well-being. She had to have known that he'd slept with most of the women she'd met there and yet she showed no signs of jealousy and never questioned his loyalty to her. She didn't have to. He could no longer even imagine himself with another woman.

  Her need to care for and nurture others was always apparent. Christy had so much love to give, and Anthony wanted more than anything to give her a child. Not only so she would marry him, but because he wanted to look into the face of the child whose existence was a result of their love. And it was even more obvious after they'd dropped in to visit Nadine a few times. Her love for Nadine's children went beyond anything Anthony had ever witnessed.

  They rode several times with his motorcycle club and he reveled in having her cling tightly to his back. After all, it was right where she belonged. He purposely didn't bring her on any excursions that would involve criminal dealings. But he did need to keep up appearances. Besides, he wanted everyone to know the woman on the back of his Harley belonged to him.

  It was a warm Saturday afternoon when his gang rode through the parts of town where Anthony wanted to send a message to some rivals. There would be no violence as a result of the ride, just a statement. By the end of the day, most of the bikers broke from the group and headed their separate ways. Anthony, Christy, Alexander and Brooks decided to stop for a bite to eat. Since their favorite place to eat, Kelly’s Fish House, was packed to the rafters, they settled themselves at a corner table in a popular restaurant chain nearby. Anthony couldn't help but notice the stares of the other diners. Three scary looking bikers and his beautiful and well-groomed Christy sitting right in the middle of them caused more than one curious glance. She, of course, was oblivious to the attention as she concentrated on the menu.

  Anthony noticed one couple, who appeared to be about Christy's age, paying a tad too much notice to the foursome. He quietly asked Christy if she knew them. She looked up from her menu, and looked at where he nodded. She broke out in a smile.

  "I went to school with them," she told him as she laid down her menu and gave them a wave.

  "Were they friends of yours?" he asked.

  "No. I didn't have friends, but neither did they. They're twins, and they always kept to themselves. Real braniacs. Because they didn't have friends and stuck with each other, the kids weren't very kind. Always suggesting they were closer than a brother and sister should be. It was mean, and I'm sure they were even more miserable back then than I was. Someone made up a stupid rhyme, and it followed them everywhere."

  "What kind of rhyme?" Brooks asked. He was the biker who’d won the thousand dollars Anthony had offered as a bonus to participate in Andrew's torture and murder. He had a deviant nature with a mean streak that rivaled Anthony's and a demeanor that would send a lion running the other way. He was almost as tall as Anthony and at least thirty pounds heavier. He was riddled with tattoos, including his face. He wore his brown hair long and always looked like he needed a shave. Alexander noticed that Brooks couldn't seem to take his eyes off the woman. He couldn't understand why. She didn't seem like Brooks’ type. She looked like a nice girl, not the hardcore, rough women Brooks usually brought around the camp.

  "The Renquest twins are freaks of nature..." Christy started to say, but the words died on her lips. "I don't remember the rest," she lied as she looked down at her drink.

  Knowing that the conversation was making Christy uncomfortable and sad, Anthony quickly added, "Well, they seem mighty interested in you."

  The waitress interrupted the conversation, and after taking their orders and walking away, Christy continued where she'd left off.

  "They were two years ahead of me. I didn't hang with them, but I did have Lucy in phys ed, and Lenny tutored me for a semester in science. I didn't have any reason not to be nice to them."

  "Why don't you go say hello?" Anthony prodded.

  Assuming he wanted to speak to Alexander and Brooks alone for a moment, Christy agreed. Besides, it would feel rude not to acknowledge them.

  Anthony watched out of the corner of his eye as Christy approached the duo. He saw that Lenny stood when Christy got to the table, and he even pulled out a chair for her to sit.

  Fifteen minutes had passed when Anthony signaled Christy that their food arrived. He watched as Lenny stood again when Christy did. It was obvious by the guy's expression that he had a crush on Christy, and Anthony told her so when she got back to the table.

  "Yeah, he might've back then, too. But he never acted on it. He's totally harmless," she said as she placed her napkin in her lap.

  "Ya t
hink?" Alexander laughed.

  "Don't make fun of them," Christy snapped. "I'm sorry, Alexander," she quickly added. "It's just that they had a rough time of it back in high school. But you know, they've come a long way. I think I learned more about them in the past fifteen minutes than I ever did in school."

  She took a bite of her salad and set her fork down to pick up her water. After taking a sip she added, "They're both still in college. Lucy is doing something with disease control and Lenny is into nuclear physics. Whatever that is," she laughed.

  They resumed their meal and groaned when Brooks shared a story about his stepmother's toothbrush, a camera and his then teenage butthole.

  "That is disgusting," Christy said, but she couldn't help but laugh at how Brooks took revenge on the woman that used to beat him as a child. Besides, it was mild compared to what she knew he was now capable of. "And, I think I'm done with dinner," she added, laying her fork down.

  "I think we all are," Anthony added as he signaled the waitress for their check. Brooks excused himself to use the restroom.

  Lucy Renquest washed and dried her hands. She checked herself out in the restroom mirror and wondered what her life would've been like if she’d had Christy Chapman's looks. Christy was one of the few kids at school who wasn't mean to her or Lenny. Christy had been quiet and reserved, but not cruel like the others. Lucy was more than flattered when Christy not only approached their table, but took the time to sit with them and talk. She seemed genuinely interested in their lives and Lucy couldn't help but wish that someone from their old high school would happen upon the three of them. She wanted to be seen with one of the cool kids. Just once in her life, she wanted to feel important and popular. She had no way of knowing that Christy Chapman had been lonelier than her back then. She was completely taken aback when Christy confessed that she had no real friends in high school. At least Lucy had her twin, Lenny. She let out a sigh when she thought of her brother. His puppy dog eyes kept passing over Christy during their entire conversation. He was smitten with her in high school and it was obvious that he still carried a torch. Her brother was as unremarkable in the looks department as she was.