Friends & Foes

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  Jasmine shook her head. Those were good questions, but she couldn’t spend too much time on Yvette and Cecelia. She had to figure out what she and Rachel should do next.

  And right now, Jasmine had no idea.

  Chapter

  NINETEEN

  Jasmine might be ready to move on, but something about Cecelia King being chummy with Yvette was gnawing at Rachel’s gut. Cecelia had proven she wasn’t to be trusted and she would stop at nothing to get what she wanted. Prior to the election, she had made it clear that she wanted to be president of the ABC and Rachel doubted that Lester’s winning the election had squelched that desire.

  Rachel shifted to get comfortable in her queen-size bed. It was only eight a.m., but she was ready to get up and moving around, searching for answers. But Jasmine had been adamant that they’d be no good to anyone if they didn’t “get a proper night’s sleep.”

  But Rachel was tired of waiting and ready to make a move.

  She was just about to get up and go tell Jasmine that when her cell phone rang.

  “Hello,” she said, answering it.

  “Rachel!” Lester sounded relieved to hear her voice, which was strange since she’d just talked to him last night.

  “Is something wrong with the kids?” she asked, panic sweeping through her body.

  “No, the kids are fine. Why are you sounding like that? Rachel, the Coalition has learned that Pastor Griffith is missing and they think foul play may be involved.”

  Rachel sat in silence for a minute.

  “Did you hear me?” he asked.

  “Y-Yes, I heard you,” she said. “Why do they think that?”

  “I have no idea. But I don’t like the way all of this is going down. I think you need to come home.”

  She thought so, too. But not yet.

  “Lester, Pastor Griffith’s disappearance has nothing to do with me.” She hoped that she sounded more confident than she felt.

  “Something just doesn’t feel right.”

  Rachel loved that about her husband. Even when she wouldn’t admit it, he knew her so well.

  “Sweetheart, I’m fine. I should be home tomorrow.”

  He didn’t sound convinced. “I don’t understand why you can’t come home today. If your interview is today, why can’t you just catch a flight back after that?”

  Rachel immediately began trying to formulate the lie in her head. She hated lying to her husband, but “Hey, honey, I’m trying to clear my name of murder” just didn’t seem like the right thing to say.

  Luckily, her other line buzzed, giving her a reprieve. “Hold on.” She glanced at the phone and her heart jumped when she recognized the 312 number. Eleanor Griffith.

  Rachel jumped out of the bed and headed into the connecting living area. “Hey, hon, I need to grab this other line. I’ll call you back,” she said, hurriedly.

  “Rachel, wait!”

  “Love you. Kiss the kids.” She disconnected the call, then tapped on Jasmine’s door as she answered the other line.

  “Hello.”

  “Come in,” Jasmine called out. She sounded like she was awake, which meant they could’ve been up and out already.

  Rachel quickly muted the phone then turned to Jasmine. “It’s Eleanor.”

  Jasmine jumped out of the bed and stood in front of Rachel. “What does she want?” Jasmine replied.

  Rachel shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  “Hello,” Rachel said, again.

  After a brief hesitation, Eleanor said, “Yes, Mrs. Adams, ummm, it’s ummm, it’s Eleanor Griffith. Pastor Griffith’s daughter.”

  She sounded strained. Maybe she had some news about her father.

  “Hi, Eleanor, what can I help you with?”

  Another beat. Then finally, “Ummm, I got some information. I know you were wondering about my dad, and well, I found out something you might want to know.”

  “What?” Rachel asked, her heart racing.

  “Well, I can’t really get into it over the phone. I was wondering if maybe you could come back over.”

  Rachel muted the phone again and faced Jasmine. “She wants me to come over.”

  “For what?” Jasmine asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, ask her.”

  Rachel unmuted the phone and returned to the call. “Can’t you just tell me over the phone?”

  “Actually, I can’t.” She paused. “I really need to talk to you in person.”

  Rachel debated the woman’s request. The last thing she wanted was to return to the spot where she’d had her run-in with those goons. But if Eleanor had any information that could help them find out what really happened to Pastor Griffith, she needed to go see her.

  “Please.” Eleanor must have sensed her hesitation. “It involves you and my father.”

  “I’m on my way,” Rachel finally said.

  “Okay, come alone,” she added.

  Rachel hung the phone up and stared at Jasmine, who stood with her head cocked, her arms crossed.

  “You’re on your way where?”

  “I’m going back to talk to her,” Rachel said, heading out of Jasmine’s room. The whole “come alone” demand sent chills up her spine, but she had to find out what Eleanor knew.

  “Rachel, don’t be ridiculous,” Jasmine said, following her. “Has yesterday slipped your mind?”

  Rachel stopped in the living area and spun around to face Jasmine. “Of course not. But what other choice do we have? You’re the one who said we need to do something. Well, this is something.”

  “I don’t know,” Jasmine finally admitted.

  Rachel exhaled in frustration. “Then I say we go see what she’s talking about. Maybe she can give us some answers.” Rachel didn’t want to tell Jasmine what Eleanor said about its involving Rachel and Pastor Griffith. That piece of news would surely send Jasmine barreling toward O’Hare Airport.

  Jasmine continued shaking her head. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

  “I don’t have a good feeling about the whole thing,” Rachel said, turning to head back across the suite. “Now, put on some clothes and let’s go.”

  Twenty minutes later, they were back at Eleanor’s apartment complex. Rachel felt a chill shoot up her spine as she looked at the spot where the thugs had accosted her less than twenty-four hours ago.

  “I don’t like this,” Jasmine said.

  Rachel pulled into a parking spot. “Neither do I, Jasmine. But unless you have a better plan, I need to see what she’s talking about.”

  “Fine.”

  Rachel turned off the car. “Come on.” She didn’t care that Eleanor had told her to come alone. She wasn’t a fool.

  “No, ma’am,” Jasmine said, snatching the keys from her hand. “You said you’re going to find out what she’s talking about. I’m going to sit here and wait in the car.” Jasmine pulled out her iPhone and began reading her messages.

  Rachel didn’t feel like arguing so she just shook her head and headed inside. Her heart raced as she tapped on Eleanor’s door. The woman slowly opened it.

  “Eleanor?” Rachel asked. The girl’s eyes were wide and she looked frightened. Maybe she had some bad news about her father. “Are you okay?”

  “Come on in,” Eleanor said, stepping to the side. “Are you alone?”

  Rachel was about to say Jasmine was in the car, but something made her say, “Yes. What’s going on? Have you heard from your father?”

  “I haven’t,” she said, looking down nervously, then slowly looking up, over Rachel’s shoulder, toward her long hallway and the two men who had stopped Rachel yesterday.

  “She doesn’t know where he is, but we think you might,” the shorter of the two said.

  A flash of panic swept over her and Rachel immediately darted for the door, but she wasn’t quick enough as the tall, lanky one grabbed her and flung her down on the sofa. Rachel tried to get up and found herself facing the barrel of a shiny handgun.

&nbs
p; “Sit your five-dollar ass down before I make change!”

  Eleanor gasped and Rachel froze as the gun touched the bridge of her nose. Then suddenly, the tall one burst out laughing as he moved the gun.

  “I’ve always wanted to say that.” He kept laughing, like that was the funniest thing he’d ever said. “Nino Brown is one bad dude.”

  Both of the goons cracked up.

  Seriously? Her life was in danger and these dudes were quoting lines from New Jack City?

  “Look here,” the first guy said, sitting on the coffee table in front of Rachel. “We don’t want any trouble. We just want answers.”

  “But I don’t have any answers,” Rachel protested.

  “You and your girl here know something.” He motioned between the two of them.

  “I told you all I don’t know her,” Eleanor cried. “I just met her over the phone yesterday.”

  “Yeah, tell us anything.” The man motioned at the sofa. “Please, have a seat next to her.”

  Rachel blurted out, “I’m a first lady.”

  The tall one replied, “Then I hope you’re prayed up because if you don’t do what we need you to do, you’re going to need your God sooner than you think.”

  Rachel glanced over at Eleanor. She couldn’t believe she’d walked right into this trap; that this young girl had actually set her up. But the fear in her eyes told Rachel that Eleanor had only done what she’d been ordered to do.

  “What do you want from me?” Rachel finally asked.

  “We want to know where your boyfriend is.”

  Rachel frowned. “My what? I am a married woman.”

  “Yeah, so is my girlfriend,” the tall one chimed in.

  “Where is Pastor Griffith?” his friend repeated.

  Both Rachel and Eleanor sat speechless.

  The goon sitting in front of her exhaled in frustration. “See this?” He pointed back and forth between the two of them. “This is going to be a problem. I don’t like liars. Liars piss me off.”

  “I’m not lying.” Rachel wanted to cry. She never would’ve imagined a simple trip to see Oprah would lead to all of this.

  “Here’s the deal,” the man continued. “Me and my partner here, this is Bean”—he smiled as he pointed to the tall guy—“as in pole. You see how tall and lanky he is. I’m Muscle and we’re some really nice guys at the end of the day.” He said it as if they really were sitting sipping coffee. “Me and Bean make a good team because we get results,” he continued. “By any means necessary. So I have no doubt that we’ll get results from you. By. Any. Means. Necessary.”

  “I don’t know how I can help you.” Rachel no longer wanted to cry. She did.

  “Come on. We know that you’re seeing Pastor Griffith.”

  “No, I’m not,” Rachel protested, then turned to Eleanor. “Tell them I’m not your father’s girlfriend!”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell them,” she cried.

  “Tell them who the real girlfriend is,” Rachel urged.

  Eleanor shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said through her tears. “I haven’t exactly been a model kid. I’ve been in rehab.” She sniffed. “I heard him talk about her, and I talked to her once on the phone when I was trying to find him, but I’ve never met her.” She lowered her head in shame. “I haven’t been right since my mom died and, well, I didn’t want to meet my dad’s girlfriend.”

  “Yeah, this ain’t therapy,” the stocky thug said.

  “I’m just trying to get you to see you have the wrong woman,” Rachel pleaded.

  The guy exhaled in frustration. “So, you said you’ve never met your dad’s girlfriend?” he asked Eleanor.

  Eleanor shook her head.

  “So, this could be her and you wouldn’t even know,” he said, pointing at Rachel.

  Eleanor glanced up at Rachel like she hadn’t really thought about that.

  “But—”

  Muscle waved his hand to shut her up. “Look, I don’t really care about your extramarital affairs. All I know is the old man is gone and the money is gone. Either you produce the old man or you produce the money. End of story. You got kids?”

  The panic in her eyes answered for her.

  Muscle nodded. “Yeah, you got kids.” He snatched her purse, then pulled out her wallet. He picked up her license, dropped it in his pocket, then fingered a photo of her children. “Awww, they’re so cute. I’d really hate to kill a kid, but all’s fair in love and my boss’s money.”

  At this point, Rachel would do whatever she needed to do to get out of there. “I don’t know anything about any money,” she said, reaching for her purse.

  “Whoaaa,” Bean raised the gun at her.

  “Calm down! I just want to get my checkbook,” she snapped. “I’ll just write you a check for whatever is owed to you if you just let us go.” He tossed the purse at her. She dug in, then pulled out her checkbook and a pen. She didn’t have a whole lot of money in her account, but she was sure the ABC would cover any shortage. “Who do I make it out to?”

  Bean and Muscle exchanged glances, then burst out laughing.

  “You hear that, Bean? She’s gonna write us a check.” They continued laughing for a minute, before Muscle’s expression turned serious. “I’m sorry, our check machine is out of order so we’re only able to accept cash at this time. Or the old man.”

  “I don’t have anything to do with any of this. I just want you to let us go. How much cash? I can go to the bank. I have a debit card.”

  “And your debit card lets you withdraw ten million dollars?” Muscle asked nonchalantly.

  Rachel’s eyes bucked. “Excuse me?”

  “My man didn’t stutter,” Bean interjected.

  “I-I don’t have that much.”

  “But your boyfriend did. And it belongs to my boss and he wants it back.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend!” Rachel yelled. “What makes you think I’m involved in this?”

  Rachel looked to Eleanor for some help. She hadn’t stopped shaking, nor had she uttered another word.

  “Eleanor,” Rachel said, reaching for her hand.

  “They found his car this morning,” Eleanor finally said. She looked up at Muscle. “I told you. My dad is dead.”

  Rachel’s heart dropped as she faced Eleanor.

  “I just got the word, before these jerks showed up,” Eleanor continued, tears streaking down her face. “They found his car in Lake Michigan. His body was inside.”

  “Oh, my God,” Rachel said. All kinds of emotions were running through her. They’d found Pastor Griffith’s body? And from the way these thugs were acting, they weren’t the ones who had dumped him in the river. But if they didn’t, who did? Just what kind of mess was Pastor Griffith involved in?

  “Well, my condolences if he really is dead,” Muscle said with a smirk. “But that just means the debt passes on to his woman, especially since we know he wouldn’t trust his crackfiend kid with that kind of money.” He smiled sympathetically.

  Rachel wanted to tell them one last time she wasn’t involved with Pastor Griffith, but it was obvious they weren’t listening, so instead she said, “We don’t have that kind of money.”

  “Then it looks to me like it’ll be a triple funeral,” Bean said. “Rockabye, baby.” He pointed the gun their way.

  Rachel watched Eleanor shake uncontrollably. She looked like she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Tears were streaming down her face. As Bean pursed his lips like he was deciding who to shoot first, all Rachel could think was that she didn’t want to die like this. She had four kids who needed her. She had a family that loved her. So Rachel did the only thing she could think of. She bolted off the sofa and ran as fast as she could toward the front door. The sudden movement definitely caught the two thugs off guard and both of them scrambled toward her but by that point, she was out the door. She ran across the complex’s lawn like her life depended on it. Muscle and Bean were right behind her as she screamed at the top of
her lungs, “Help! Help!”

  Rachel had just made it to the street when she spotted Jasmine, who had jumped up in the passenger seat and was looking on in shock.

  “Do something!” Rachel yelled, scurrying on top of a nearby Hummer. Muscle and Bean tried to grab her just as she pulled her feet onto the roof and out of their reach. Rachel knew they were about to shoot her in the head and she was just about to accept her fate when she heard a horn blaring. She looked over to see Jasmine bearing down on the horn, the loud sound permeating the neighborhood. People began sticking their heads out of their apartments and Rachel took her cue. “Help me! They’re trying to kill me,” she shouted.

  They reached wildly for her, and Jasmine continued holding the horn down.

  “Yo, Ma. Why you on my truck?” a young guy yelled as he raced down the sidewalk.

  Muscle looked at his cohort. “Come on, man. Let’s get out of here.”

  Muscle glared at Rachel. “This ain’t over, First Lady,” he hissed, before both of them took off running around the corner.

  The owner of the Hummer came running up to the truck. Half his hair was braided, and he wore a wife beater and a pair of saggy jeans.

  “What you doin’?” he yelled.

  “They were trying to kill me,” Rachel said, shaking.

  “Yeah, and I’m gon’ finish if you don’t get the hell off my truck,” he snapped, pounding the hood.

  Rachel slid down the front. “What in the world happened?” Jasmine asked, running over to her.

  Rachel did the only thing she could. She wrapped her arms around Jasmine and sobbed.

  “Do you need me to call the cops?” some elderly lady said.

  At the mention of police, both Jasmine and Rachel froze. Finally, Jasmine spoke. “No, we’re okay. We’re leaving.”

  Rachel didn’t protest as Jasmine led her back to the car. Part of her wondered if she should go back and check on Eleanor. But the other part of her wanted to get as far away from this place as possible. That’s why Rachel didn’t say a word as she slid into the passenger side and prayed for this nightmare to end.

  Chapter

  TWENTY

  So is this man dead or alive?” Jasmine asked after Rachel finished mumbling out the story of what had gone down in Eleanor’s apartment.