Absolute Corruption: Southern Justice Trilogy
Page 21
“Afternoon, Ladies. I’ll be with you in a moment.” Slash continued with the last few lines of the phrase I wanted to use, without removing his eyes from the gun, which buzzed as he worked. The pain at first had been intense, but as the skin numbed, it changed to something less harsh, and more of an annoyance.
“That’s all right, Sir. We’re here for her anyway.”
A smile slowly made its home on my face, so much better than the marathon crying I had been doing. “How did you guys know I was here?” I hadn’t told a single soul I was coming. Intentionally wanting to be alone as I took this step.
Claire held up her cell phone, shifting it back and forth in her hand. “Really, Lainie? You know your boyfriend, do I really have to answer that question?” Of course he would have been able to use the location finder my phone used for webpages. I wanted to be mad, but it wasn’t worth the effort. Austin had done this for good reason, not to check on me or to catch any dishonesty he feared I was up to.
“No, I guess you don’t.”
Claire and Priscilla moved around Slash, both admiring the work he was doing.
“‘Never let the fear of falling, keep you from learning how to fly.’ I love it. Did you write it?” Priscilla was asking Slash, who shook his head, but kept on working.
“I read it in a book. The story behind it was very similar to what I’m dealing with, and it just fit.”
“All finished.” Slash said, as he rolled his seat away from me.
I stood from my chair, my clothes were now dry, but still looking like a homeless person. Turning my back, I used the hand mirror hanging on the wall. Taking a good look at the angel wings which surrounded the phrase Priscilla had just read. It was exactly what I had pictured, both when I designed it, and when I imagined it on my shoulder.
“It’s perfect.”
Slash came around with a big fancy camera, taking shots from every angle he could. This was his condition for placing the tattoo on my front shoulder, hidden from eyes, unless I wore something really revealing, something I had never done in the past. He gave me detailed instructions on how to take care of it, and said he would see me the next time I was ready for new ink.
“Once you get a taste, you always want more.”
Priscilla wanted to have lunch with her girls, but first we would stop by the salon where I would get ‘presentable’ as she called it. As we climbed into her car, I looked around the block, what a mess I had been when I first walked in, ignorant to the beauty which surrounded me. Charleston was full of old world charm, houses lined the streets on both sides, each one prettier than the last.
Priscilla pulled her car into the valet parking area, handing her key to the young attendant who knew her by name. Once inside the revolving door, the sounds of piano music filled the air. I felt like a crazy person dressed in ruined shoes and filthy clothing. While the area around me was lush with cloth covered sofas and chandeliers hanging from sky high ceilings. I wanted to climb into a hole and die.
“Constance, do you have my bags?”
Priscilla called to a woman who stood ramrod straight by the bubbling fountain in the center of the foyer. Her navy blue suit matched that of the valet attendant with a gold plated nametag, sitting perfectly straight above her heart.
“Yes, Ma’am. It has been placed in the Morally Suite just as you instructed.”
I got the feeling Priscilla didn’t care for Constance, but since I looked like an extra from a Zombie movie, I wasn’t about to pass judgment. One quick elevator ride later, I was shown to a room with the largest shower I had ever seen. The damn thing felt so good, I took a video of the inside, just so I could remember it.
After I dressed in the clothing Priscilla had procured for me, a nice pair of slacks and a complimenting top, which was thick enough to keep me warm, yet not cook me. As I went to stand, I noticed a shoebox sitting on one of the tables in the room. A note card with my name scrolled across the front was taped to it. Pulling the card open, noticing Austin’s manly penmanship scrolled inside.
It’s my fault you ruined your favorite pair of shoes. Here’s a new pair to make up for it. Well, it’s at least a start of how I’m going to make this up to you. I love you, Lainie.
Nestled inside the shoebox were my heels, well, a replacement of the ones I’d had to throw away. Even with everything going on in his world, he took the time to care about me. Holding the card to my chest, I closed my eyes as I mouthed the words, I love you, too.
When I walked out to join them, Claire and Priscilla were enjoying a drink by the window that overlooked the street below. While the building wasn’t a skyscraper, you could see the hospital, and office buildings, which surrounded it. The rain had stopped, finally, leaving just a hint of a cool breeze in its path. The waiter, who stood against the entrance door, pulled out my chair so I could join them.
Conversation was kept to a minimum, as we all seemed to be extremely hungry. I had lost my appetite over the last few days, but in the light of today, it seems to have returned.
“Okay, my bestie. I have allowed you to marinate your feelings long enough. I want to know your side of the story and don’t hold back.”
I watched the traffic move along the bridge as I told her everything; the way Keena had presented herself as his current girlfriend, and how she’d wrapped herself around Austin like he belonged to her.
“So you stopped talking to him, because of what an ex said? That’s doesn’t sound like you.”
“It’s not that I’m not talking with him. I just feel like he needs to have an open mind about his child, without me complicating things.”
“Oh, and removing yourself from his arms is your way of not complicating things.”
Claire Stuart was me with brown hair. She held nothing back, just as I wouldn’t with her. Cutting past the layers of bullshit, and getting to the core of the problem.
“I’m jealous, okay.”
“Of?”
I wanted to take the admission back, ignore I had just ripped a scab off the hole in my heart.
“Claire, what would you do if Portia came over, and announced she was pregnant with Dylan’s child?’ My eyes moved from the midday traffic to the face of the girl who had saved me from so much. “Would you dance around, and then throw her a shower? Hell no you wouldn’t, you’d curl up inside just like I am.”
“And you would come in and kick my ass, just like I’m doing for you.” Claire’s hazel eyes flashed between mine, no ill feelings, just simple truth in her words. “Lainie, you don’t give up on something just because it’s hard. Hell, you and I have battled far worse than anything Keena and Portia could dish out. Now is the time to show your strength, not how fast you can run and hide. You didn’t fall in love with the man the first time you met; it developed as you got to know him. Don’t think for one second it’s going to go away any faster. You need to be there for him, show him you are in this for the long haul, no matter what happens.”
She was right, and the reason she was my friend.
“Claire is correct, Lainie. Besides, Keena would never fit into the family the way you two do.” Priscilla moved her body so that she could hug me. “Don’t give up, I know this will work out.”
Claire had spent the time I was showering filling Priscilla in on our suspicions of Harmony. She agreed we were on to something, but made us swear not to do anything on our own.
“Did she ever confirm which dentist she worked for?” Months ago, Claire shared with me the conversation Harmony had during dinner, telling Priscilla she needed to have her teeth whitened.
“No, but how many dentists are there in Mount Pleasant?”
“Six,” Priscilla responded. “Three of them have wives I’ve known my entire life, the other three have ex-wives I’ve known just as long.”
Priscilla Morgan may be a socialite and the good wife of a prominent attorney, but behind all those masks she wore, she had the cunning of a southern girl on a mission.
“It just so happen
s, I’ve had lunch with all six of them recently.” She commented, while applying her lipstick, as if she was discussing the weather. “According to one of the ex-wives, a dental procedure was performed free of charge, by one Howard Stevens. Which was the reason for their divorce.”
My eyes opened wide at the scene playing out before me. Priscilla Morgan was as good a detective as her eldest son was.
“See, something went wrong with the aftercare, and Howard got a call in the middle of the night. He apparently got out of bed to meet the patient at his office and forgot to remove the backpack one of his children left behind in the car. When Cynthia got the kids up for school, her son announced his project was in said backpack. So Cynthia did what any good mother would do, she drove over at the early hour to get the backpack. Since the car was locked, and she didn’t have the keys, she had to go into his office to get them. Imagine her surprise when she finds good old Howard with his assistant slash patient, naked as the day they were born, having sex in one of his dental chairs.”
I could almost picture an older gentleman with a young woman, bouncing up and down on him, in a reclined dental chair.
“She took him to court, and got half of everything he owned, including current ownership of the dental office. She’d never suspected the assistant would do such a thing, as she had the worst overbite she had ever seen. She also knew Howard was too cheap to help the girl. Cynthia took great pleasure in firing the assistant with everyone watching, calling her every name in the book. A few weeks later she found out the girl was working at one of the strip clubs, and wasn’t surprised in the least.”
Priscilla thanked the waiter as she signed a slip of paper, never showing a credit card, or handing over any cash.
“Did she tell you her name?”
“Oh, she did better than that. She emailed me the file with her before and after photos included.”
Priscilla extended her cell phone presenting side-by-side photos, Virginia Greyson on one side, and a plain faced Harmony on the other. Under the photo, in black and white block lettering were two words, Ginger Greyson.
Claire and I sat at that table, mesmerized by the change between the two photos. I’d always been a fan of those makeover shows, where the girl who’d been picked on for not being the prettiest, was made into this super hot girl. Virginia must have found one of the makeup artists they used, because she looked so much different.
“I would never pair the two photos as the same girl.”
“According to Dean and the boys, neither will Chase. They all agreed, until he witnesses her in the act, he won’t believe anything we have.”
Part of me felt incredibly bad for Chase, loving someone so much you ignored the evil everyone else saw. When he finally did see it, come to grips with the truth, I hoped he had the strength to love again.
“Enough about that harlot. Tell me what you think about Audrey?” A tiny woman had delivered refills on our sweet tea. It was nice to sit back and enjoy this time with these two ladies. I was discovering different sides to Priscilla, sides I wanted to be friends with.
“Well, I think she is sweeter than this tea. But, she has some dark secret she’s hiding, something she is trying to protect.” Claire could read people like a seasoned psychic. It made her an excellent nurse, and a perfect friend.
“I have to agree with you, Claire. Something just isn’t adding up with the girl.”
I gazed once again out the massive window, watching the wind blowing the branches of the palm trees. I watched as an expensive car pulled up to the building across the street, and a large man pulled himself out of the tiny space, locked the car, and then ran into the building. Three stoops over, a door opened, and a man and woman walked out. I did a double take, as I would recognize that body anywhere, even in the dark of night. Keena stepped heavily down the steps, a file wrapped tightly in her arms. She looked angry, as if he’d upset her, or something. For the first time, and I hoped Priscilla didn’t see him do it, Austin Morgan didn’t open a door for a lady before he got into his truck and drove down the street.
Hold a door open for your girl, not because it’s expected of you, but because it gives you a moment to appreciate her as she walks ahead of you.
~ Granddaddy VanBuren
“In today’s top story…
“Police are investigating the body of a man found during an investigation after a tip was called in to crime stoppers. Investigators were called to a residence in the eight hundred block of North Calvin Street. Several allegations of suspected drug manufacturing have been reported to the crime stopperss number in the last few days. Police officials reported the body was found in the home’s attic. Preliminary toxicology reports show no drugs were found in the body, which has been identified as former Bank of Charleston CEO, Franklin Benson. You may recall a story earlier this year where Mr. Benson resigned his position when allegations of spousal abuse were reported by members of the community. He pled not guilty, but later recanted his plea when his then girlfriend, and mother of his youngest child, called police to her residence after an altercation had occurred. The unidentified woman, placed a cell phone in the room after she said he’d struck her the first time. Police found Mr. Benson locked in a storage area after the woman had escaped his imprisonment.”
I tossed the remote to the table after lowering the volume on the television. “You having fun without me, Bro?”
Dylan looked over his shoulder, his hands covered in gear oil. I stepped back out of his range, as I wouldn’t put it past him to smack his dirty hand on my shirt.
“Fuck no, I haven’t seen that motherfucker since we all went hog boiling.” Dylan continued working on the bike, a custom order from some celebrity in California. Dylan never got excited by the dropping of a name, he gave them a target date, built the bike, and then made them pay to ship it. If they chose to come see the bike, Dylan made sure he was around to talk with them. “I’m too goddamn busy with all the shit around here.”
While Carson had screened several people who came to him seeking our help, we hadn’t found anything, which panned out. Either the claimant didn’t show up, or the situation fixed itself.
“Austin, let me ask you something?” He had his red towel in his hands, wiping the residual grease from his skin. “Do you think if I asked Claire to marry me, she would say yes?”
When we were younger, Chase thought Daddy had forgotten it was Valentine’s Day. He knew how much Momma loved to be spoiled every year with the flowers, and such that went along with the holiday. So Chase took all the money he’d saved from hauling hay the summer before, and went into town to buy her all the flowers he could. What he didn’t know was Daddy had booked a vacation to Italy for them to celebrate. When Chase got home with his truck full of flowers, he’d gone inside, changed his clothes, and then covered the living room with the flowers. Momma had been out in her greenhouse planting seeds for her new garden in the spring. When she came in, Chase stood proud as a peacock, and asked her to be his Valentine. When Daddy came home, bags already packed in the car, he’d watched as his youngest took his wife to dinner in the city. Dean Morgan called the airlines, and delayed his vacation by two hours, so his son could make his Momma smile.
Dylan had slipped his own money back into Chase’s stash, since everyone agreed Daddy’s secret would be kept. Chase left for sports camp the next day and never knew of the trip our parents shared. He’d prided himself for years that he was the reason Daddy stayed out of the doghouse for not remembering Valentine’s Day.
“You remember the time Chase bought Momma all those flowers for Valentine’s day?”
“Yeah, the year Daddy took her to Italy.”
I nodded my head, “And what did Momma say when Chase asked her to go to dinner with him?”
“She told him she would be honored.” He smiled the smile of a boy remembering the joy found on the face of his beloved mother. Dylan really was a good guy at heart.
“And so will Claire when you ask her.”
“Mr. Morgan, the girls made me keep quiet when they asked to bring supper over.” Audrey worked far too many hours for my, or Dylan’s, liking. But he knew she was drowning in debt, and needed the money. Momma came over most afternoons with a pan or sack of something homemade that would have gone to waste if Audrey didn’t use it. Dylan said he would find the clean containers inside a bag in the back, as if she hadn’t bothered to take them home, and eaten them here at her desk.
“Hey, Baby.” The term of endearment warmed my heart, as I took the large pan of what looked liked shrimp and grits. My Lainie was a hell of a cook; fighting me most nights to enjoy a home cooked meal, instead of a restaurant. I couldn’t resist as I leaned in, kissing her soundly on her soft lips. “Let me put this down, so I can welcome you proper.”
Dylan did the same to the pan of fried chicken Claire carried. Shooting Audrey a furrowed brow when she raced past him carrying a bowl of biscuits, and a gallon of sweet tea. “Next time, wait for help.” He chastised, his way of trying to be a gentleman.
“Ignore him, Audrey. He hasn’t had enough of his girl lately.” I pulled Lainie into my arms, inhaling her unique smell, its effect giving me a calm I hadn’t felt in days.
“Can I talk to you in private?” She mumbled into my chest.
I dreaded the conversation that I knew needed to happen. “Dylan, I’m going to get something from my truck. Don’t eat all of that chicken.” I warned, knowing my brother and his appetite for our Momma’s secret recipe.