Book Read Free

No Reservations

Page 28

by Natalia Banks


  Griffin spat out his hot wad in a bold spike that leapt out of his cock and hit Lorraine square in the face. It was hot and plentiful, wave after wave coating her cheeks, her forehead mixing with her sweat as she rubbed that still-hard cock all over her face, smearing the cum and the sweat and coating his dick with it. Lorraine licked his cock dry, that delicious sauce sliding down her throat, coating her tongue, filling her senses.

  Chapter 16

  Griffin picked up the smartphone and swiped the screen. “Griffin Phoenix,” he said. Lorraine looked over from the other side of the bedroom, hardly able to climb out of bed after another marathon session. “Yeah, thanks.” He set the phone down and turned to Lorraine with a grim, grave expression.

  “Grif, what is it? Something about the audit? Did they find Ki Fong?”

  “No, Lorraine,” he said with a low, soft rumble in his voice. “It’s Albert.” Lorraine waited, heart skipping a beat, not needing to ask. Griffin explained, “He’s dead, Lorraine. I’m sorry.”

  An icy bolt of confused fear shot through Lorraine’s body, an emptiness she only scarcely recognized. “How?”

  “I’m not sure,” Griffin said, reaching for the television remote. “Jeannie says it’s all over the news, I didn’t want you to be caught off-guard.” Griffin clicked on the television and climbed back into bed with Lorraine, the two of then in each other's naked arms as the flatscreen came to life in high-definition.

  A pretty mocha-skinned woman stood in front of a resort hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada, along the famous Las Vegas Strip. When they turned to that channel, she was already in mid-report:

  “… Found just hours later. We managed to get a few words with the new widow of the gubernatorial candidate from Colorado, currently on a cross-country tour of North America to drum up support for his campaign. It’s an unusual strategy, campaigning for governor outside of one’s own state, and it’s raised a lot of eyebrows in Washington, not to mention among his constituents. But today, the world is focused on mourning this rising political star, at the dawn of what was to be a brilliant career.”

  Lorraine and Griffin shared a worried look, neither finding words to better the reporter’s facts, which they both wanted desperately for a variety of reasons. But, it was Carmen who dominated the TV screen, a number of news agency mics jutting up into her tired, beleaguered face. Lorraine was struck by how poorly Carmen had aged, but she knew that sorrow was aging her even more.

  Carmen said, “We … we’d been campaigning so hard, we decided to take a night just for ourselves, away from the staff and everybody. So we took a room here, had a nice meal. I went down to the spa, had a massage … ”

  Lorraine glanced at Griffin, not needing to draw attention to the fact that he was sending her own mother to a spa that very day.

  Carmen went on, “When I came back,” she said, voice cracking, “he was lying on the bed … gone.” She broke into tears and a police escort lead her away from the reporters.

  The reporter returned to the screen. “No word on the cause of death, or if any foul play is suspected. For KSNV News, this is Tanika Thomas reporting.”

  Griffin and Lorraine looked at each other, a tense silence surrounding them. Finally, Lorraine said, “We should pack our bags, get back to New York. There’ll be the funeral in Denver to get to.”

  “Yeah,” Griffin said, “call your folks, I’ll get the jet ready.”

  The local press was waiting for them at the airport, camera crews following them through the terminal to their private jet, barking questions at Griffin and Lorraine, the Devonshires already on their way back to Denver.

  “What do you make of City Councilman Jenkins’ death, Mrs. Phoenix?”

  “What do you expect me to make of it? It’s tragic. I’m so sorry for my old friend Carmen, and for the people of Denver, of the whole state of Colorado, the entire nation; we’ve lost a good man, a man of character and integrity, a dutiful public servant.”

  “He came to visit you recently in New York,” one reporter shouted, “isn’t that true?”

  “It is,” Griffin said, “it was a private visit in our home, dinner among friends.”

  “It wasn’t a business meeting, to do with your PEEC program?”

  Lorraine flashed angry eyes at him. “Who could have told you what we were talking about, whatever that may have been?”

  “Just speculating,” the reporter said. “The councilman was doing a lot of business in New York on that trip.”

  “We don’t know anything about that,” Lorraine said.

  “What about your PEEC program,” another asked, “is that still on track?”

  “It is, yes,” Griffin said, “we’re just trying to find the perfect location for the pilot center. It’s a crucial decision, not to be taken lightly or to be made quickly.”

  Another reporter asked, “What about the rumors that your company is in shambles, that you’re been robbed blind in some ponzi scheme?”

  “They’re just that,” Griffin said, “rumors, which makes them meaningless. We did have a little glitch in our computer program, but I understand that’s been cleared up, and things at Phoenix Enterprises are moving ahead, full-steam.”

  “Are you planning to attend the funeral in Denver?”

  “Of course,” Lorraine said. “Albert was my friend, my mentor, the savior of the public libraries. I wouldn’t dream of dishonoring him by not paying my respect.”

  “That’s enough, ladies and gentlemen,” Griffin said, holding his hand up and leading Lorraine and the kids past them and onward toward their private jet for the trip back to New York.

  Two days later, Lorraine and Griffin were attending Albert’s funeral, the kids staying with Larry and Sally for the day. The cemetery was cluttered with mourners, black jackets and veils, sobbing and sniffling, Carmen surrounded by her family and friends.

  News crews hovered just beyond the perimeter, catching every miserable moment for their broadcast profit.

  The service had been long and somber, but at least everybody had been staring in the same direction. With the crowd gathered around the grave, Lorraine could sense the grim stares she was attracting from her former friends and neighbors, Albert’s constituents who considered him a saint in death.

  Lorraine wasn’t sure what was inspiring their ire, as it could have been one of any number of things; the violence at the library three years before, her abandoning them for a jet-set lifestyle out of New York, even Albert’s death. More and more, everybody seemed to have a reason to hate Lorraine and Griffin, despite the risks they’d taken for no other reason than the welfare of the community. Lorraine wasn’t concerned about that, or about them.

  Lorraine was worried about Carmen.

  After the burial, Lorraine and Griffin worked their way through the grimacing crowd toward Carmen, surrounded by friends and family. Lorraine said, “Carmen, I’m so sorry … ” Lorraine hugged Carmen, but Carmen’s arms barely moved from her sides. Lorraine could feel the tension, the rejection of her outreach, so she backed away with an awkward confusion. “Carmen? Are you okay?”

  Carmen lashed out, a black-gloved hand flying out and smacking Lorraine across the face, shocking everybody around them. Carmen grimaced at Lorraine and snarled, “This is all your fault! If it weren’t for you, he’d still be alive!”

  “Carmen?”

  “The school board. He begged you, but you were just too stubborn.”

  “The school board?”

  “Shshshshsh! They’ll kill me next,” Carmen rasped, “if they don’t get to you and your family first.”

  “Carmen, are you sure of what you’re saying?”

  Griffin said, “News said it was a heart attack.”

  “Oh please,” Carmen said. “They knew where we were, when he was alone. You think that Supreme Court Justice died of a heart attack, too, I suppose?”

  “What are you saying, they smothered him with a pillow like Antonin Scalia?”

  “They rushed his body int
o cremation even though his will said he wanted to be buried, why do you think that is?” Lorraine and Griffin shared a peaked glance. “He was just a warning,” Carmen went on, “watch yourselves, watch your kids — ”

  “Carmen!”

  “Heed my words! She who lives by the sword, dies by the sword!” With that, Carmen’s family led her away, not sparing any nasty glares at Lorraine and Griffin, but managing to slither away before the camera crews arrived. All they captured were Lorraine’s stunned expression and Griffin’s determined gaze.

  Chapter 17

  Lorraine and Griffin arrived at the offices of Phoenix Enterprises early the next morning. The computers were back up and running, and Griffin was anxious to collect every last file from their system, cloud or otherwise, to transfer them to another off-site system. Griffin was working with his head IT guy to this end, leaving Lorraine to scour Ki’s personal files for some clue as to where he might be.

  “He’s got family in Hong Kong,” Lorraine said. “We could check the airlines, see if he’s flown out.”

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Of course, he could just have gone with the law of contrary instinct and be hunkering down in Mexico. He almost certainly flew out under an assumed name with a falsified passport.”

  “You think he put that much … ?” Lorraine had to stop herself, already knowing what the answer was. She knew he’d have gone to those lengths and greater. He’d swindled millions of dollars from the company at first blush, perhaps a good deal more.

  Lorraine continued over Ki’s file, not liking what was coming up. “Minor in computer tech, that pans out.”

  Griffin glanced around. “No sign of Jeannie?”

  Lorraine shook her head. “I just called Dennis’ office, but he’s not in either.” Griffin bit down on his anger, a silent tension collecting around his office.

  Lorraine checked her watch and turned to Griffin. “I have a meeting with that realtor in a half-hour, I think I’m going to head on over.”

  Griffin said, “You should have them pick you up here.”

  “I don’t mind, it’s just around the corner.”

  “It’s a status thing, Lorraine,” Griffin said, “a power move. You’ve got to get used to that now.”

  “What can I say? You can take the girl out of Denver, but you can’t take Denver out of the girl.” They shared a chuckle and a kiss and Lorraine headed down the hall toward the elevators.

  She took the elevator down to the multi-level parking garage.

  She couldn’t get her mind off Ki Fong. He must be a genius of some kind, to have sneaked that past Dennis Douglass, or any competent accountant. No, Dennis has to be involved. Unless Ki really is that good. A delayed computer virus, suddenly vanishing at just the right time; that’s a man with a plan, can’t be much doubt.

  So how do we find him? Is Griffin right, is he just gone for good, made off with company funds? What’s that going to do for Phoenix Enterprises’ reputation? Griffin said the whole company could collapse if word gets out. How’s Griffin going to spin this one? Is this a problem even he won’t be able to fix?

  Lorraine stepped out and glanced around. She walked toward her car, heels clicking against the concrete, echoing in the vast, layered lot.

  What about Albert’s death? Could he really have been murdered by the school board? It’s possible, I can’t doubt that. He did try to warn us, Carmen was right about that, too. But, he could have had a heart attack, that also tracks. And poor Carmen could just be delirious with sorrow over his loss, that happens all the time. People die of broken hearts, and they kill because of them, too. I recall back at the library rally when Albert had left her to go back to his wife, she was devastated. I wasn’t sure what she was capable of. Of course they did wind up together in the end, but if Carmen was that sad over losing Albert’s love, imagine how hard it must be for her to lose his life!

  Is that really my fault? I suppose if I’d never written that letter, if the chain of events hadn’t begun, he wouldn’t have run for office. If the school board really did have him killed, then that’s on me, no question.

  How could we prove such a thing? Surely no record of their meetings with Albert still exist, if they ever did. Whoever put that pillow over his face would have been untraceable. What chance would we have fighting the entire school board, anyway? It goes straight up to Capitol Hill!

  What about me, Lorraine couldn’t help but wonder, do I really belong in all this mess? I keep sticking my head up, and I have to admit it’s had some terrible consequences. Maybe my mom’s right and I should just go back to the penthouse, raise my kids, love my husband and that’s that. It would be enough; really, it would be more than enough.

  But that didn’t feel right to Lorraine either, and never had.

  No, I lived too much of my life like that, even before Tony Gardner attacked me in that dance club parking lot. I don’t want to be some mousy librarian, hiding in a prison with golden bars. I want to live the way Griffin does, even the way Ashe does. They ski, they glide along on dizzying zip-lines, master motorized water flyboards. I barely made it through those things, and they were just tourist attractions!

  I was shot and almost died, I saved the public library system and then I let somebody else take the credit. That’s not bad, not bad at all! I’ve been places most people could never come back from. I’ve earned everything I have, even if I didn’t create it. Love has brought me here, and I deserve to be here. And this is where I’m going to stay, damnit!

  Lorraine walked on, her car not far up ahead. Should have let the valet park it, she told herself. It’s a power move.

  I hate those.

  A loud set of footsteps grabbed Lorraine’s attention, reverberating in the wide, low chamber and getting louder fast. A woman ran around the corner from the upper level and was barreling straight toward Lorraine, her long, chestnut hair bouncing on her shoulders.

  Lorraine muttered, “Jeannie?”

  Jeannie’s eyes were wide with fear, her mouth open but silent until she called out, “Lorraine!”

  Jeannie finally met Lorraine, almost falling into her arms. “Lorraine, we gotta get outta here!”

  “Why, Jeannie, what’s going on?”

  Jeannie looked desperately behind her. “No time to explain, we gotta go!” Another set of footsteps approached from the upper floor, heavy and fast and getting louder. “Where’s your car?” Lorraine looked around. “Never mind, there’s no time!”

  The footsteps got louder and a gunshot rang out, echoing in the concrete parking lot and sending both Lorraine and Jeannie running for their lives. The nearest point of escape was a staircase on the side of the parking lot leading to the street, and though Lorraine would have kept running back toward the office building, Jeannie made her choice and Lorraine followed, the two scrambling down the metal steps and onto Fifth Avenue.

  They ran blindly, Lorraine following Jeannie away from the Phoenix Enterprises building and further down the posh avenue, cluttered as always with pedestrians.

  “Jeannie, what’s going on?”

  “No time! Keep running!”

  Lorraine did keep running, sensing a pulsing danger behind them. They ran up to a pretty young woman with a baby carriage, who turned to see them coming and was stunned, frozen where she stood. All the poor woman could do was bend over to protect her unseen child as Lorraine and Jeannie ran past, very nearly smashing into the carriage and sending the baby flying.

  Gotta be careful, Lorraine told herself, gotta figure this out! What’s really going on here? Who are we running from? Is she luring me into a trap? Is she pretending to run so I’ll charge right into an ambush? Why would she be running, and from who?

  They turned a corner on Madison Avenue and kept running, angry tourists grimacing at them, shaking their fists.

  Lorraine and Jeannie kept running, skidding to a halt to see two beefy men carrying boxes from behind a double-parked box truck filled with brown packages. Lorraine nearly hit one of t
hem, stopping just in time. She and Jeannie looked around, and Jeanne led Lorraine around the truck and out into the street.

  Horns honked, people shouting at Lorraine and Jeannie, a cab blasting by so close that Lorraine could feel the pull of the car’s drag, only inches away from her. Jeannie led Lorraine past the truck and then across the busy avenue. Cars were skidding, horns blaring as the two women scurried to the other side, finally reaching another stretch of crowded sidewalk.

  Gotta figure this out, Lorraine’s imagined voice warned her, but we don’t dare stop running. What if she’s sincere and we’re in real danger here?

  Lorraine had no choice but to keep running, cutting across the intersection of Sixth and running toward Central Park. Pedestrians parted as Lorraine and Jeannie ran, Jeannie plowing into a man walking on metal braces. He staggered forward, metal crutches flailing as he fell forward.

  “Hey, you stupid bitch!”

  Lorraine’s impulse was to stop and help the man up, but Jeannie grabbed her hand and dragged her forward down the street. “Hurry, there’s no time!”

  Bam bam bam! Gunshots rang out behind them, people screaming and charging around them, ducking into shops. Some cars screeched to a halt, other drivers gunned their engines and tried to drive around the others, inevitable collisions creating the heavy crunch of metal, the blare of horns blasting out continuous tones.

  Lorraine and Jeannie ran into the park, big trees providing little enough shelter in the expansive place.

  Bam bam!

  More confusion, people scattering around them, Lorraine was struck by flashbacks of the Denver shooting. Remembered pain shot through Lorraine’s belly and shoulder, so striking and real that she had to glance down to make sure she hadn't been hit again.

  No, she reassured herself, not this time … not yet.

  Lorraine and Jeannie got separated, Jeannie running in a straight line and looking backward in terror. Lorraine called out, “Don’t run in a straight line, Jeannie!” Jeannie turned to look at Lorraine, both still running forward.

 

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