He hung up.
Lacy’s hand was shaking so badly it took her two times to fit the phone back into the cradle. Lord, her stalker and Melissa’s murderer were the same man! Pulling herself together she made two calls: first to Detective Franks and then to Drake.
After Franks and his partner left, Lacy looked across her office to where the tight-jawed Drake stood. The police traced the call to another pay phone. Uniformed officers were combing the area around the phone, but just like the earlier foray, Franks didn’t have much hope of finding any clues. Drake had stood by silently during the interview, but Lacy could feel his anger. “Hey,” she asked him softly, “you okay?”
“No, and I won’t be until they find him.”
“Me either.”
“Walter and I are not letting you out of our sight.” Walter was now down in the garage making sure no damage had been done to her new car.
“That’s fine. I’m not some stupid woman in a movie. I want somebody standing between me and him. The more the better.”
Drake smiled for the first time since her disturbing call. “Good. I’d really rather have you at my place, but I know you won’t say yes to that.”
“You’re starting to know me well, Your Honor.”
“We’ll put someone on Ida too.”
As if on cue, she walked in. “Ida don’t need protecting. Herbert and I will be fine. You just take care of my girl, Mayor Randolph.”
Herbert was Ida’s husband and if anyone did manage to get by him, there were three, six-foot-four-inch sons, all over 280, waiting to step in and take up his slack. Lacy wasn’t worried about the pistol-packing grandma Ida at all. If anything, Benny Madison was the one who’d better beware of Ida and her men. Mess around, get his butt kicked and then get killed.
“Just came in to say I’m gone. See you tomorrow.”
Ida’s exit was Drake’s cue to ask, “You want to get something to eat?”
“Only if I can take it back to my place. Not in the mood for a crowded restaurant.”
Drake understood.
Lacy walked over and put her arms around his waist and her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her in return, and the feel of him squeezing her tight made the awful last few hours much better. “Madison scares me to death.”
“I know.” The man had threatened Lacy’s life, and Drake wanted to exchange the white hat he usually wore for one as black as his mood. He wanted Madison dead. Period. He’d give the police a few more days to bring him in, then he and NIA would start a hunt of their own. “What do you want to eat?”
“Pizza’s good.”
“Then pizza it’ll be.”
They called to have a pizza delivered to Lacy’s place. Drake also called Walter, who was downstairs in the garage, to let him know he would be walking Lacy down to the car so Walter needn’t come back up to the office for her.
Drake wound up riding home with them because he couldn’t handle not having Lacy in sight. At the apartment, she opened the locks and let them in.
“Walter, we really need to find you something better to sleep on than that sleeping bag,” she said. “It has to be uncomfortable.”
“It is, but it’s okay. His Honor isn’t paying me to sleep.”
Drake laughed. “I’m not paying you at all.”
Lacy looked between the men. “You two must be real good friends.”
Walter nodded. “Me and his big brother taught him everything he knows.”
Drake rolled his eyes. “The man lies a lot, Lacy, just remember that.”
The buzzer blared, and Lacy went to the intercom. Walter gave her a look, then stepped in front of her. “You don’t answer the door, the phone, or any other form of communication from now on. That’s my job.” He hit the buzzer and called, “Yeah.”
It was the pizza man.
While he made his way up, Walter said to her, “In the bedroom. If it’s not a real delivery, we don’t want to be worried about where you are.”
She looked at Drake, and he pointed. She put her hand on her hip to show him what she thought of being ordered around, even if it was for her own safety, but she went.
The pizza delivery person turned out to be the real thing, and a few minutes later they were seated on the floor enjoying the hot pie. Drake had taken off his suit coat, and for the first time Lacy saw the holster and gun strapped under his arm. Walter had removed his leather coat to show he was armed as well. Hers was in her purse.
Drake asked, “You still going to the gun range?”
Lacy nodded. “Yep. Walter has been a great help too.”
Walter asked, “Do you think you could use your weapon if push came to shove?”
“Yes. Although the first time I shot a duck, I threw up, and didn’t shoot anything but targets and skeet after that.” She looked at the men. “This is different. The duck wasn’t trying to take my life. Madison is.”
Drake was satisfied that she’d be able to take someone down if she had to, and that made him feel much better.
Later that evening they gathered around Lacy’s TV to watch the game. The NBA playoffs were under way, and the hometown Pistons were on their way back to the Eastern Conference championship if they could eliminate Philly tonight. At halftime Detroit was up by three. Lacy, Drake, and Walter were discussing what might happen in the third quarter when the sound of the door buzzer interrupted them.
Walter hopped up to answer it. “Yeah.”
“Let us in,” the voice boomed over the intercom.
He laughed. “Come on up.”
Remembering her instructions from earlier, Lacy got up to go into the bedroom, but Drake stopped her. “It’s okay, it’s only my brother Myk.”
Lacy smiled. She was finally going to meet the owner of the house in Holland and the man who, according to Walter, helped Walter teach Drake everything he knew.
A knock sounded, and Walter let in first a tall dark-skinned man, who was followed by three other people. One was a tall light skinned man wearing dark glasses and a long dirty trench coat, and two women; one of whom was short and pregnant and wearing a Piston’s throwback jersey over a red T-shirt, the other woman was taller, rounder, and in her jewelry, designer suit, heels, and fine leather coat looked like a movie star on vacation.
Drake was over hugging everyone, especially the man in the coat, who cracked, “Hey, don’t bend the coat.”
Drake laughed. “When did you get into town?”
“About an hour ago. Myk and Sarita picked us up at the airport. We’re heading back east after Gran’s party.”
Drake said, “Lacy, I want you to meet my brothers, Myk and Saint, and their wives, Sarita and Narice.”
“Hello,” Lacy said. This was a real surprise.
The brothers gave her polite hellos, and their smiling wives did the same.
Lacy sensed they were all checking her out, but since she was doing the same thing, she didn’t mind. “Come join us. We were just watching the game.”
Sarita threw up a hand and said, “Hallelujah, a woman who likes sports. Good job, Your Honor.”
Lacy smiled hearing that Sarita called Drake by his title, too, and that she approved of Lacy.
Sarita then plopped down on the couch, her attention now glued to the halftime analysts.
Narice smiled, took a seat on the couch next to her sister-in-law, then removed her leather coat. “You know, Philly’s going to win the second half.”
Sarita didn’t even look at her. “Narice, I love you, but you really need to stop drinking.”
Everybody laughed, even Narice, then they all settled in to watch the second half.
The Pistons won, and Narice’s Sixers were forced to try again next year. With the game over, everyone got their coats and gathered by the door to say their good-byes. Lacy had a great time and was thankful that Narice and Sarita hadn’t been stuck up or hard to like.
Sarita gave her a strong hug, then said, “Don’t worry. With these Vachon men in your life, Ma
dison will have to go through fire to get to you.”
For some reason, Lacy wasn’t surprised that Sarita knew what was going on. Then Narice added coolly, “And if he gets past them, Sarita and I will be waiting.”
The four men looked at each other and shook their heads in amusement.
Walter said, “Where do you all find these women?”
Everyone laughed.
After the visitors left, Drake and Walter went back to the TV to watch the Lakers against the Clippers. Lacy went to bed. She had work in the morning.
When Lacy got up the next morning, the sun was shining and rays of sunshine played against the bare wood floors of her bedroom. She was dressed and ready to go and had been tipping around in order not to awaken Walter, whom she assumed was still sleeping. She stood there in the silence for a moment and tried to gather herself for the day ahead. When somebody calls and threatens your life you really don’t want to leave the house, and she was no exception. Madison murdered Melissa Curtis, and the idea that he was now after her, scared her to death. What she really wanted to do was crawl back into bed, pull the covers over her head, and stay there until they caught him, locked him up, and threw away the key. But she decided to go to work; staying home with nothing to do but worry would only make the bogeyman bigger. At least at her job she’d be busy and her mind would be occupied by something other than imagining Madison around every corner. Her decision had nothing to do with bravery or I’m badder than him, or anything like that; it just made sense.
Her bag over her arm, Lacy stepped out of the room and saw Drake asleep in her yellow chair. He had the sleeping bag thrown over himself for warmth. The picture he made pulled at her heartstrings. As if he’d sensed her watching, his eyes opened and he smiled at her sleepily. “Hey, baby.”
“Hey yourself,” she called back softly. “What’re you still doing here? Where’s Walter?”
“His stepson was in an accident early this morning and he went meet to his wife Shirley at the hospital.”
“Is the son okay?”
“Yeah, car was wrecked but Jerome checked out okay. Some bumps and bruises.” He sat up, then said, “You sure look good first thing in the morning.”
Heat touched Lacy’s cheeks and she dropped her eyes before meeting his smile. “I’m sorry you had to sleep on the chair. You must feel like a pretzel.”
“I do, but I knew the job was dangerous when I took it.”
Lacy wondered if there was a woman alive able to resist him or that boyish smile. He had become such a blessing in her life. “Was Walter coming back to take me to work?”
He unfolded himself from the chair. “No, he’ll be back this afternoon. I’ll ride with you to work. Just let me brush my teeth and throw some water on my face.”
Lacy could see that his suit and white shirt had taken quite a beating. They were as wrinkled as pretzels, too.
He looked down at himself. “I’ll shower and change when I get to the office.”
He grabbed Walter’s backpack and slipped into the bathroom. Ten minutes later they were outside, heading to her new car, and Lacy’s paranoia about Madison returned. “Maybe I’ve seen too many movies, but my car isn’t going to blow up now, is it?”
Drake shook off his tiredness. “We probably saw the same movies. Hold on, let me make a call.”
He punched in a number, put the phone to his ear and said, “Let me speak to Uncle Gadget.”
Lacy stared in confusion, but he simply smiled.
About ten minutes later Saint drove up in a souped-up black Escalade. When he got out wearing that battered coat, he reminded Lacy of an Old West gunfighter. She wondered if he ever took the glasses off. “’Morning, Lacy. Your Honor. What do you need?”
“Just want to make sure her car doesn’t go boom.”
Saint nodded as if that made sense to him.
Lacy stared on not knowing what to say or think.
Out of his one of his coat pockets, Saint removed a small device about the size of an Ipod. He pointed it toward her new silver Crossfire then took a slow walk around the perimeter. When he was done, he slipped the little sensor back into a pocket. “Think she’s okay. Anything else?”
Drake shook his head. “Nope. Thanks.”
“See you later.” He hopped back into the Escalade and rolled away.
Lacy watched his departure in amazement. “Who did you say your brother works for again?”
“The government.”
“Doing what?”
Drake shrugged. “This and that.”
“That’s what I figured.”
She hit the clicker for the locks, and once she and Drake were buckled in, she steered the coupe out of the lot and out onto Jefferson. They were both grinning.
The driver of the Parker Environmental truck caught smuggling drugs over the border back in early April decided he’d had enough of the city jail he’d been languishing in and began singing like a Temptation to the feds. He implicated Parker in everything from drug smuggling to illegal dumping to kickbacks. An hour later a warrant was issued for Parker’s arrest and he was picked up and placed in custody. He posted bond and was out an hour later, but had to surrender his passport as part of the arrangement.
Drake and Myk met with the NIA board over lunch in Myk’s boardroom. The conversation centered on the Parker investigation. “Why’d the truck driver sing now as opposed to earlier?” Drake asked.
One of the members said, “Parker promised he’d take care of the driver’s family but hasn’t so far, and since it was looking like Parker was going to hang him out to dry, the driver decided he wasn’t going to be the emperor’s sacrifice.”
Myk said, “Too bad he wasn’t that smart when he first got busted, or this might be over by now.”
Drake added, “And Melissa Curtis might still be alive.”
Myk met Drake’s eyes and nodded almost imperceptibly, but it didn’t make Drake feel any better about the circumstances leading to the young woman’s death, especially now that the killer was after Lacy. He’d grieve for the rest of his life if anything happened to her. When he first organized NIA, one of the things he and Myk discussed was whether they were doing the right thing in the way they operated. The decision to forge ahead had been okay when they were riding roughshod over the rights of drug dealers and their fat cat suburban suppliers. He hadn’t even minded snatching gang bangers off the street and forcing them into education and rehabilitation programs, whether the bangers wanted to be there or not, because the programs had been successful. But this thing with Lacy and Melissa Curtis was different. He and the NIA board had played God, and in their wisdom decided that their way was the only way, and as a result a woman had died.
It was now the second week in May, and a week had passed since Benny Madison’s last phone call to Lacy’s office. The police still hadn’t caught him, and Walter McGhee was still joined to Lacy’s hip. The newspapers were filled with stories about Parker’s upcoming trial, and he’d become the whipping boy for every urban dumping crime that had ever taken place. BAD members were holding large demonstrations at Parker’s construction sites to protest his poisoning of urban neighborhoods, and the police had to be called in on the picketers marching in front of Parker’s upscale home. The schools began assigning projects on urban pollution to their students, and the hospitals were giving free lead poisoning tests to children under five.
All in all, Lacy saw some positives come out of the circus now swirling around Parker’s arrest; the schools were involved, as were the churches. She and Ida thought it might be a good idea to bring their office’s version of the Good News to as many congregations as they could get signed up. Today, she and Drake were on their way to St. Matthew’s and St. Joseph’s, and they were late.
“Your mother is going to think this is my fault,” she said from the passenger seat of the Mustang.
“No, she’s not.”
“Are you going to tell her you got a ticket?”
He looked at her
like she was crazy. “No.”
A tight-lipped Drake took the ticket from the smiling policewoman, who said, “Slow down, Mr. Mayor. God wants you in the pew, not in a casket.” She nodded at Lacy then went back to her unit.
Drake pulled away from the curb and continued the drive to church.
They slid into the Randolph pew while the choir was still singing the processional, and Lacy met the surprised and smiling eyes of the women she assumed were his sisters. His mother—Lacy supposed it was his mother—was decked out in a stunning beige suit and a hat that Lacy could only describe as gorgeous. Seeing Lacy made her eyes widen with delight, and she immediately made the family members move over so she could work her way down to where Drake and Lacy stood on the end. With her hymn book in hand, and while still singing, she grabbed Lacy’s hand and gave it a welcome squeeze. Lacy squeezed back. When she looked up at Drake, he was singing and smiling too.
After church, Lacy laid out her information and brochures on one of the tables and waited for people to drift her way while they enjoyed the fellowship of coffee hour. Many of the mostly elderly congregation stopped by to hear what she had to say and look over the literature, but mostly they were there to check her out: one, because they’d never seen her before, and two, she’d come to church with the mayor. They wanted to know her name, where she was from, if she was married, and if she had a home church. Lacy answered the questions as honestly and as politely as she’d been raised to do and smiled the entire time.
Mavis and Drake stood across the room and watched her dealing with their church family, and Mavis said, “Drake, she is a doll, but you need to go and rescue her from nosey old Mrs. Satterwhite. The only thing that old biddy hasn’t done is check her teeth.”
“I tried a few minutes ago but Lacy said she was okay.”
“She’s a better Christian than I am, then.”
“Me too.”
By the time Lacy began packing up her stuff, the only thing she hadn’t been asked by a member of the congregation was the color of her underwear—which was black, by the way, black lace, as always. But not one of the questions had been asked in a negative way; folks were just trying to get to know her, and Lacy had no problem with that.
Black Lace Page 24
