Rejecting his affection, she gently pushed him away, then shook her head.
“I recently added on the dance class to release my stress,” Monet lied, emphasizing, “Mother.”
Apparently, Trinity couldn’t care less if Monet was miserable. She continued listening to her mother’s abrasive tone.
“You’re releasing your stress, all right. I need you to come home right now. There’re some things I need to share with you, but not over the phone.” Her mother whispered, “We can’t take a chance on the authorities eavesdropping.”
We? Monet huffed, knowing she had nothing to hide.
Cairo puckered to give her an enduring kiss on the lips. Monet covered his mouth. “I’m on my way,” she said, ending the call with her mother.
Reaching for her purse, Monet said, “Sorry, but I have to leave.”
“I can see that.” He blocked her hand from gripping the handle on her bag. “Before you go, don’t you think I deserve an explanation?” He wrapped his arms around her, then seductively pulled her to him.
Men! she screamed in her head. If he had to go, he’d expect me to understand. What in the hell is wrong with him?
This wasn’t the proper time to tell him any more than he already knew.
“I want you to know I respect your home front. If you need to confide in me, I’m here for you. I have feelings for you, Monet. But I don’t want to play games. You’re a gorgeous woman that I’d love to call my own one day. I know what I’ve gotten myself into. Promise me you’ll text or call and let me know how you’re doing.”
None of what was happening was Cairo’s fault. He was a sweetheart.
Opening her mouth, she closed her eyes. When she felt their lips touch, Monet slid her tongue into his mouth, then suctioned his tongue into her mouth. Softly she caressed the nape of his neck.
As long as she resisted, she knew he’d find a reason to keep her there. Breaking their bond when she felt his hand on her breast, she agreed. “I promise.”
* * *
Hurrying home, she parked in her garage and entered her house. She found her mother sitting alone in the living room.
“Are the girls still upstairs? Do they know what’s going on?” was Monet’s first question as she tossed her purse on the leather sofa.
“Of course, they know. They both have cell phones,” her mother sarcastically mentioned.
Choosing her battles, she knew this wasn’t one worth fighting. The only way the girls should’ve known their dad was missing was if their principal, their teachers, or her mom told them, because students weren’t allowed to use phones during class.
“I’ve spoken with Israel and Nairobi. I’ve taken their phones and they’re not allowed to watch TV until we agree on what to tell them.”
Monet knelt at her mother’s feet, placed her head on her mom’s lap, and cried.
Scooting to the edge of the sofa, Trinity said, “Hush. Kingston will be okay. Grown men his age and size don’t disappear without a trace. There’s something I must share with you.”
Sitting next to her mother, Monet grew angry as she listened to her mother explain how she’d secretly rented an Airbnb for Kingston. That wasn’t enough. Her mom rented a second Airbnb and a third. Her mother had honored Kingston’s request to keep his locations a secret between them. There were moments when Trinity claimed she had no idea where Kingston was living. Nor had she spoken with him recently.
Speechless, Monet created enough space where both of her children could’ve comfortably sat between them. Rocking back and forth, she shook her head. Gravely disappointed in her mom, Monet softly asked, “What else do you know? If you’re going to lie again to me, Mother, I prefer you don’t say anything at all. Because right now, I don’t believe you don’t know where Kingston is.”
“The truth is, Kingston went to Atlanta to explore his—”
“What, Mother? Huh?” Monet prayed Bianca wasn’t right.
Trinity hesitated, then said, “To explore his sexuality.”
“So you’re telling me that you know my husband is gay and you never told me?” Monet stood, then shouted at Trinity, “You told me not to pressure my husband! To give him time! Give him space! And all along you knew he was cheating on me with a man?”
This was the first time Monet was angry enough to punch her mother in the face.
“Lower your voice, Monet. The kids might hear,” Trinity insisted.
“You didn’t give a damn about my kids”—Monet slapped her chest repeatedly—“when my husband was out fucking a . . .” The next word was trapped in her throat.
Trinity stood, stretched her arm behind her back, then swung at Monet’s face with an open hand. After she slapped her daughter, Monet shoved her mother on the sofa, straddled her, then held her biceps. “This is not a fight you want me to finish.”
If it were true that her husband preferred being with a man, that was his right. She’d rather suffer through the woes of divorce than be married to a liar.
“Mommy! Mommy!” The girls ran toward them with their tablets in tow.
“Why are you fighting Grandma?” Israel asked, tugging at her arm with one hand. “Let her go. You’re hurting her.” She placed her iPad on the floor, then used both of her little hands to pull her.
“Thank you for rescuing Grandma.” Trinity quickly stood.
“Grandma slipped and fell on the couch, honey. I was trying to keep her from falling to the floor,” Monet lied. “You okay?” she asked her mom.
Trinity rolled her eyes, but did not respond.
“Where’s Daddy?” Nairobi cried, pointing to the article about their father on her electronic notebook.
This was one of the few times Israel mimicked her sister. Tears ran down their faces.
Monet wasn’t going to lie to her children. “I don’t know, but I don’t want you girls to worry. We’re going to find him. Until we do, both of you will have to miss a few days from school.”
Imagining the worst, Monet prayed Kingston was alive. But how did children cope with the death of a parent? She never considered that.
Drying her tears, Israel pleaded, “What good is staying home going to do? I’d rather go to school. I’ll tell the kids my daddy is on vacation or something and he’ll be back soon. The media makes mistakes all the time.” She hunched her small shoulders.
“I don’t want to go to school until Daddy comes home.” Nairobi ran upstairs, crying.
“Go check on your sister,” Monet insisted.
An incoming call registered from Bianca. Monet answered, “Hey, girl, I know you’ve heard.”
“I’m on my way to your place,” Bianca said, then asked, “You home?”
“I’m coming to your house,” Monet stated. “Be there in a few minutes.”
Looking at her mother, Monet said, “If Kingston is dead, it’s all your fault.”
Monet would’ve preferred to stay in bed with her new guy. She liked Cairo more than she’d admit. If Kingston was dead, she wasn’t sure what to do with her side situation. No matter what had happened, Kingston was still her husband and her best friend for life.
Driving to Bianca’s house, Monet parked her car, then hurried to the door, which was open by the time she got up the steps.
“Girl,” Bianca handed her a large goblet filled with chilled Chardonnay.
Monet sipped, sipped, and sipped again, then sat at the dining table with Bianca. “I came here so I could call Lilly Ortiz without having my mother in the conversation. She’s the Realtor that Kingston supposedly had looking for a house for us.”
Bianca snapped her fingers. “Do it!”
Monet dialed Lilly’s number, then placed the call on speaker.
Immediately Lilly answered, “Have you found him?”
“Me? I need you to tell me everything you know about my husband,” Monet demanded.
Bianca tapped her fingernail against the silver cloth placemat.
Lily confessed that Kingston purchased a property,
an all-cash deal, and deeded it in her name. She explained, “He did it because he didn’t want you to know where he was living.” Lilly added, “I have no additional information to offer.”
“That’s my house. You’re going to transfer it over to me immediately,” Monet declared.
“Not so fast,” Bianca countered. “We don’t know if Lilly is lying. Let’s find out where Kingston is before you draw any attention to yourself.”
“I agree,” Lilly said. “I have no problem signing the property over to you, Monet. I’ve already given the same information to the police.”
Why in the hell didn’t Lilly start with that piece of information? “Do you know any of his church/drinking buddies?” Monet questioned.
“No,” Lilly said. “And all women in Atlanta are not whores. I don’t understand why you’re not taking this seriously. Your husband is missing. I have to go.” She rudely ended their conversation without giving Monet the chance to respond.
Monet was more in search of the truth regarding her husband’s disappearance. She’d talk to the cops when she was ready.
A text registered: You don’t know me, but I know your husband. Call me.
Showing Bianca the message, Monet asked, “What do you think I should do?”
Her best friend replied, “Right now. Not a damn thing. That might be his side chick.”
CHAPTER 48
Victoria
“Fine! Chancelor. Meet me at the church. Bring Tracy with you, but don’t either one of you open your mouth,” Victoria lamented. Mumbling, she added, “I warned his ass. Lord, forgive me for cursing in your presence.”
“Thank—”
She punched the red phone symbol on her steering wheel. “Lord Jesus, help me make it through this day,” Victoria prayed.
Kingston was missing. Jordan was acting out of character. Chancelor had disobeyed her and connected with Tracy, which meant they both smelled worse than dog and horse shit mixed. Neither Kingston’s nor Chancelor’s emergency was hers. All Victoria wanted to do was complete Brother William Copeland’s service before his family members came busting through the doors of the church.
She’d deliberately printed invitations for them with a start time two hours later than everyone else’s. She’d prepared to take home his teddy bear urn and place him on the new rocking chair in her casting room.
A call registered from the one person with whom she looked forward to speaking with. Victoria answered, “Hey, Heavenly, how far are you from the church?”
“I’m parking in the lot right now,” he said, then asked, “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’ll be glad when everything is over. I appreciate your being by my side today. Think about where you want to go on a weeklong vacation. Sit on the first pew,” she instructed. “I’ll meet you inside.”
Turning off her engine, Victoria sat in her car in the rear lot. She bowed her head and closed her eyes, then prayed aloud. “Thank You, Lord Jesus, for blessing me with a companion that comforted me for over forty years. I know I haven’t been a perfect Christian, but I am Your child and You know my heart. Tell Willy what he already knows . . . I love him. And I’ll see him, but, dear Lord, please don’t make it too soon. I pray for another forty years of blissfulness with Heavenly. Forgive me, God, for casting a love spell upon Heavenly. But what good is having all of Willy’s money if it cannot bring me happiness? Willy would want me to have a companion. Amen.”
Dressed from head to toe in a sky-blue outfit, Victoria entered through the rear doors of the church. Greeted by Pastor Baloney, he and the first lady expressed their condolences.
Chancelor and Tracy walked into the back of the church together.
“Greetings, Brother Leonard and Sister . . . Lord, have mercy on us.” Pastor Baloney’s eyes protruded at Tracy. “Whateva you do, don’t open your mouth again. Victoria, I’m telling you, if Tracy speaks, you’ll have to perform Brother Copeland’s services by yourself. She damn near killed everyone in here. I’ll be in the pulpit. C’mon, First Lady.” Pastor grabbed his wife’s hand and entered from the rear into the church.
Chancelor stared at Victoria, but didn’t speak.
“Let’s go in the pastor’s study for a moment.” Victoria led the way for Chancelor and Tracy.
Congregating behind closed doors, Victoria removed a small black glass bottle from her purse. Pouring the same potion she’d used to cast the spell upon Tracy, Victoria massaged oil into her palms. “Close your eyes.” She touched Chancelor and Tracy on the foreheads at the same time.
Victoria chanted, “Let the spell be broken right this moment.” Then she added, “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”
Tracy stared at Victoria, but still didn’t speak.
Frowning, Chancelor questioned, “Is that it?” He huffed into his hand, then inhaled.
Following his lead, Tracy did the same, sighed heavily, then laughed. “Thank you, Victoria.” Tracy bowed before Victoria. “I promise I’ll never use another man for money as long as I live. Just don’t do whatever you did to me again.”
“Honey, I wouldn’t make that promise to anyone. That’s what women are supposed to do. Use men for whatever they’re good for. Just don’t make the mistake of trying to use any of my men. That’s where you fucked up . . . Excuse me, Lord Jesus . . . Other than that, we’re good. You can stay for the service if you like. I’m sure Willy would approve.”
Exiting the pastor’s study, Victoria saw Jordan enter into the rear of the church. She was wearing all black. “Have any of you heard from Kingston?”
I’ma need the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost to make it through this day. Can You help me get through the service, Lord Jesus? Victoria silently prayed, then said, “Kingston is a man, darling. There’s no telling where he’s at or whom he’s with. Kingston Royale is too big to be missing.”
Jordan pulled her arm, escorted her away from Chancelor and Tracy. Standing in a corner, Jordan whispered, “There’s something I didn’t share with anyone.”
“Girl, you haven’t killed Kingston, have you?” Victoria joked. “I’m kidding. Whatever it is, it can wait. We need to start the service before the ratchets arrive,” Victoria lamented. Didn’t anyone give a damn about her situation?
Blocking her in, Jordan spoke low: “Langston Derby set up Kingston.” She lowered her voice even more. “I don’t know if the police are trying to discredit me for representing the Donovan case or if Langston is a con who sought me out to help him get Kingston, but I need your help.”
Obviously, Jordan was serious, but what could Victoria do at this moment to help her? “This is confusing. Give me all the details after the service.”
An officer had entered the church, approached them, and said, “Jordan Jackson?”
Quickly Jordan placed her phone in Victoria’s hand, then confirmed, “Yes, Officer. I’m Jordan Jackson.”
“We have to take you in for questioning. We have evidence that you were the last person seen at the property where Kingston Royale resided.”
Lord Jesus, help me so I can get Willy Copeland home, where he belongs, on an express cloud.
“That’s ridiculous,” Victoria vehemently defended. “Why would Jordan be at Kingston’s residence? There must be a misunderstanding here.”
“If you don’t change your tone,” the officer advised Victoria, “I’m going to arrest you for obstruction.”
Victoria next heard, “Where that bitch Victoria at?”
She might be better off if the officer arrested her.
Jordan stared at her phone, which was in Victoria’s hand, then said, “I’m innocent. I’ll fully cooperate. Don’t worry about me, girl. Take care of Willy’s service. I’ll use my one call to contact you later.”
Jordan wasn’t her usual, confident self as she exited the rear of the church in handcuffs, as though she’d committed a crime. Victoria told Jordan, “Willy is already dead. There’s nothing I can do to bring him back from glory.”
&n
bsp; A young woman pushed the door and entered into the rear of the church.
Victoria told Jordan, “I’ll leave now and head to the police station.”
“I’m going with you,” Chancelor told Victoria.
“Bitch, you ain’t going nowhere!” the woman said.
Chancelor pointed at himself.
“She know who the fuck I’m talking to. What the fuck kind of service is this with a teddy bear! Where’s my uncle’s body?” the woman yelled at Victoria.
Victoria prayed Pastor Baloney would appear and intervene.
Looking at Tracy, Victoria instructed, “You stay here. Make sure everything goes as well as it can and there’s five thousand dollars in it for you. Make sure you get, protect, and keep the teddy bear for me. Sit in my place on the front pew, next to my new man, Heavenly. And don’t—”
Tracy interrupted, “I got you. Don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson.”
CHAPTER 49
Chancelor
Women were unnecessarily complicated. Liars. Cheaters. Unpredictable. The more beautiful they were, the more fucked up in the head they were. The worst part was they got pleasure out of breaking a brother’s heart.
Browsing the adult store off of Cheshire Bridge Road, Chancelor was in search of toys for himself. Everything he saw was for women. He picked up a cordless waterproof vibrator, pushed one of the six buttons.
“Goddamn! What dude could get a chick to cum after she’d fucked with this shit?” he said.
The head spun in one direction, and the shaft with pearls on the inside spun the other way. The soft rabbit ears danced for her clit, and the tickler for the booty slapped back and forth.
“Women don’t need us for dick,” he said aloud to himself. Powering off the pink glitter monster penis, which was bigger than his, Chancelor returned it to the display shelf.
Laughter resonated from across the room. The guy behind the register approached him, then asked, “Man, what are you looking for? Maybe I can help you out. This section has toys for females. Over there are rings for men. My name is Blu. Pronounced like the color, but I dropped the e.”
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