Rapture: Where are our Children (A Serial Novel) Episode 3 of 9
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occasionally slept with; the one who had decided to keep his name after their divorce. Control, he chided himself silently and he took a deep breath and then another the way that Scotty had always taught him. You must never lose control around Denise or any other woman; because once you cross that threshold you’ll never able to be to look at yourself the same again. Scotty had preached to him. And I’m not just talking about the man in you who plays the role of the cop, Old Man.
“I’ll be in touch with you tonight, as soon as I speak to Roxanne.”
Chris sat in his own BMW afterwards, cracked the windows down half way, and tried to push the last of the heat he was feeling from his latest argument with Denise of its cracks.
Denise, apparently, had other plans for him.
She reached over the top of him and battered the back of his bald head with her fist over and again until he had regained his awareness of time and space, caught her fist and somehow unlatched his self from her assault, opened the card door, and pushed her off of him without injuring her.
He stood just outside of his car door and slammed it shut, rattling the glass, and exhaled loudly through his nostrils in exasperation. He was angry at Denise for sure for an unprovoked attack against him, but was absolutely furious with the FBI Agent inside that should have expected the possibility, knowing this woman’s history the way that he knew it.
Denise sat on the pavement and looked towards the heavens and took a few forest fire plagued breaths of her own. When she looked at her ex-husband again there were tears running down both cheeks. Chris took notice. For all of their confrontations of the years, Denise Prince was not a woman who cried easily.
“Why can’t you forgive?” She said. He knew from long experience that the forgiveness she referred to was meant for his step daughter Erica Lovings, not for her specifically. Through all of her faults, Denise Prince knew what kind of creature she was. “Why can’t you understand that no mother wants to believe that her child is a liar? Please believe me when I say tell you that I didn’t want to believe that my little girl was capable of what she tried to do to you. And I don’t know what I will do if I lose you both. ”
Agent Christopher Prince got back in his BMW, closed the door, and sat back against his head rest for what felt like a long time afterwards.
Denise had returned to his window, calm as an ocean’s breeze. He powered the window the rest of the way down, found Denise’s hand and squeezed it with genuine affection, politely asked her to step back, and fired up the ignition. He decided right then and right there in Parker’s parking lot, that the sexual escapades between him and his ex-wife had run its course and needed to end.
“I’ll call you tonight.” He said finally. “I’m sure that Roxanne Sanchez will have something meaningful to report.”
He put the car in gear, sped off and left her there.
Roxanne
She fired a signal rifle round into the ceiling.
Councilwoman Vanessa Davis hopped her big ass off of the face of a white man that Roxanne Sanchez figured was a fellow politician or someone of note who held a lesser post in the Atlanta political scene. Davis nearly toppled over her bed onto the carpet from jumping off her lover so fast.
“What in the hell is going on here?” She asked. She reached for her robe and fastened it in one large bow around her waist. “What are you doing in my house?”
Roxanne, for the moment, ignored Councilman Davis and saved her attention and a taut smile for her guest. “Hi,” Roxanne laid the rifle on her shoulder. “You might want to leave us girls alone for a while. We have so much catching up to do. I’m sure you know how it is?”
“Okay,” The Naked Man said. “Sure.”
He was a butterball of man who wore only his glasses, wedding ring and smelly socks while he had handled his business. He stepped in the right direction but made his first critical error of the evening by reaching for his boxers, which were draped across the chair nearest the king sized bed.
Roxanne fired a second shot into ceiling to remind him of his slip-up.
“What are you doing?” Davis asked her.
Roxanne scratched her forehead. “I guess I’m not making myself clear. I mean for you to get out…right…now.”
“Okay,” The Naked Man said again. “Sure.”
Councilman Davis watched the younger man vacate her bedroom as unclothed as the day he was born. She muttered an apology in his general direction and asked him to call her. A moment later both women listened as he slammed the front door close. Roxanne still held the rifle over her shoulder, but kept the barrel pointed away from the councilwoman’s face—for now.
Vanessa Davis:
She was a full figured Black woman in her mid 50’s. Underneath the housecoat she’d been dressed in a panty less bustier, garter belt, and heels. She was sliding her panties back on right now and fitting one of her signature wigs on her scalp. She wore large hoop earrings and when she had spoken before it was with a raspy voice. Her teeth were darkened where they had been stained by years of caffeine and nicotine abuse.
She forced herself to sit back against her headboard, cross her legs and relax as much as a woman who had a maniac running around her bedroom with a rifle could.
“Alright, so congratulations, you have my attention, Little Girl.” Davis said. “How may I help you?”
Roxanne plopped her butt in a nearby love seat. She was dressed in what amounted to a body fitting cat suit. It was so black and snug that one could barely tell where the shadows ended and Roxanne’s curves began.
“You’ve got it all wrong, councilwoman; I’m here to help you.”
“Help me?” Davis thin eyebrows shot up. “How do you mean?”
“I’m going to ask you a series of questions. Trust me when I say that each subsequent question is more important than the one that came before it. You’re going to answer my questions, of that I have no doubt. But failure by you to answer them in a timely manner will result in me bashing you upside your head with this.” Roxanne emphasized her Smith and Wesson for the other woman to see.
“Alright,”
“Any omission will be considered insufficient. A blatant lie will be considered very insufficient.”
“Alright,”
Roxanne had watched Victor use these same techniques down below. Sometimes, Senorita, the mere threat of pain is enough to get the answers that you need. He had taught her well. “It’s been my experience that you will bleed a long painful time before you died of these head wounds.”
Councilwoman Davis asked and received permission to slowly reach into one of her drawers. Roxanne targeted her forehead with the rifle while she methodically pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and to Roxanne’s anguish got one going. Women have vices as well, Victor.
Roxanne laid the rifle across her lap. “I’ll take that as if you are ready to begin.”
Vanessa Davis nodded as she exhaled.
Roxanne wasted no time. “Where is Erica Lovings?”
“Who?”
Roxanne picked up the rifle and fired a single shot into Councilman Davis’ monitor of an old school PC that was resting on a computer stand on the far side of the bedroom.
Davis came unglued. “Stop that, Goddamn you.”
“Stop what?” Roxanne asked and laid the hot rifle back in her lap. “Oh, that business with your computer…I want you to think of it as my way of reminding you that we are going to reboot this conversation for the first and last time.”
Davis inhaled another hit of her cigarette. “Look, Sweetie, I know Erica Lovings was seen with my son before she went missing. I’m sure somebody, somewhere, told you that, that’s why you’re here terrorizing my guest and blowing holes in my roof.” She said and pointed the ash end of her smoke at Roxanne. “I don’t know where she is now.”
“Let’s say that I believe you,” Roxanne leaned forward in the chair. “At least for the time being, I do. Tell me where your son is?”
“He’s tucked away where you or no one
else will find him, Little Girl.” Davis actually smiled. “Ever,”
Roxanne hopped up out of the chair, made her way through a cloud of cigarette smoke towards Davis who looked to hold her ground.
“Let me get this straight,” Roxanne said in a low voice. She’d placed the rifle’s barrel just below Vanessa Davis’ chin. “You sex men who should be home with their families. Even worse, that one particular man belongs to a race that you openly despise, at least in public. You’re always rumored to be stealing public funds in some shape, manner, or form. And now you’re hiding a killer.” Roxanne pushed the gun out of the other woman’s face long enough to feign applause. “Well done, Councilwoman Davis, we should display more of your wonderful merits for your followers to see.”
It was Davis turn to lean forward with a response. “My supporters are plentiful, rich, and see only what I choose to let them see.” Davis allowed her dull smile to showcase itself again. She shifted her wig to a better position on her skull. Nonetheless, Little Girl, you are wrong about one of your accusations. If Xavier Prince’s niece is dead, my Trey didn’t kill her.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just know.”
Roxanne eased back and tucked the rifle on her shoulder again. “Sometimes we’re blind to the failures of the ones we love the most.”
Davis shook her big head and stubbed out her smoke in the ashtray besides the bed. “I ain’t blind to shit.” She said. “Trey is far from perfect, but he is not some