Deep

by C. N. Phillips

  Quinton sat up straight in his chair when he heard the figure. With that kind of money he would be straight for a lifetime. “How do you know all of this? And if he has that kind of money in his home I can only imagine the measures he’s gone through to secure that it stays there.”

  “Most men with that kind of money aren’t good people,” Lance said and chuckled. “He’s not a mob boss; the only things that keep his security there are their paychecks. If something happens to their job with him, they can get another elsewhere. I have some inside guys and they have already sent me a blueprint of the entire house; they even have the numbers to the vault. The cameras are run all together off a computer system and I have a buddy who can hack into it so that you can get in and out with no problem.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  “You have to get the job done on their shift; otherwise, the window of opportunity is gone.”

  “How many people know about this?”

  “You mean now? Just you, me, the two guards, and my computer tech guy.”

  “How can you trust the guards?”

  “We know their home addresses, where their wives work, and where their children go to school. Need I say more?”

  Quinton nodded and thought about the proposal. This was more up his alley. He knew how to use a gun, but he was used to not having to brandish one. Before he opened his mouth to give Lance an answer he already had an answer. He was in.

  “I have to talk to the girls about it first. But in the meantime send me over the details and the blueprint of the house. No more bullshit.”

  “Never,” Lance said. “And, Q? If you decide your answer is yes, just be careful.”

  Lance disconnected the call before Quinton could say another word. Behind him in his bedroom Quinton heard his computer ping. He put his cigar out and left it outside in the ashtray so that he could go back inside of the house. He sat at his computer desk and sure enough when he opened his e-mail he had all the information he needed about the hit. He knew for a fact how sufficient Lance’s computer guy was; he had been the one to set Quinton up with an untraceable e-mail address. Quinton scrolled through all of the details of it and got the contact information for the two guards, the date and time for the hit, and most importantly the vault numbers. The only thing that put a damper in any plan was when he saw the date and something clicked in his head. It was the same day as his next meeting with his probation officer. She was cool, but not that cool. The last thing he could risk was going back to jail for missing a thirty-minute meeting.

  “Shit,” he said to himself.

  The only way that he would be able to be a part of the hit would be if he sent Rhonnie and Ahli in his place. Which had never been a problem before, but he knew that the Miami incident was still fresh for them. Especially for Rhonnie. He just hoped that her love for money would trump her memory and she too would see the bigger picture. One last job and $500,000 spoke volumes for them all. In the end everybody would eat and with that kind of money no smile on their face would be fake again.

  He knew both Rhonnie and Ahli were out of the house so he went back out to the balcony to get his phone. He placed phone calls to Ahli, Rhonnie, and Brayland to meet at his house ASAP. It turned out that Rhonnie was still in the house so he wouldn’t have to wait for her. Ahli, on the other hand, said she was on the other side of town and it would take her about thirty minutes to get home. Brayland didn’t answer his phone, but Ahli said that she would try to reach him herself.

  He pressed ENE on the last phone call and then sat down to finish off his cigar before he made his final proposition. He could only guess how the meeting was going to go and, of course, he was right.

  * * *

  “Hell no!”

  “Rhonnie, just lis—”

  “No, Ahli! The last job Lance set us up with we stole drugs from notorious drug kingpins and I got shot! Hell nah. Ding! Try again.”

  Rhonnie sat on the living room couch next to Brayland with her arms folded across her chest. Ahli sat on the floor to the right of the coffee table with her knees pulled up to her chest and Quinton sat in a big chair facing them all. He just laid down the complete details of the hit, showing them the blueprints and safe numbers. Just like he thought, Rhonnie blew up as soon as he stopped talking. Except he didn’t think she would go as hard as she did.

  “This is seven hundred thousand dollars we’re talking about, Rhonnie! And it’s just doing what we’re good at.” Ahli was trying to reason with her sister because she wanted to do the job, but she wouldn’t do it if Rhonnie wasn’t on board. Yes, she was sure that Brayland would be down to do it, but he wasn’t trained like Rhonnie. He didn’t know her like the back of his hand like her sister did.

  “Fuck that money.” Rhonnie stared at her father with fire in her eyes. “Daddy, I love you, but I’m out. That’s the reason why I came to this meeting. I would let you tell us more about the job, but I don’t even want to waste your time like that.”

  “What about the money?” Brayland finally spoke up. “I could use that kind of dough.”

  Rhonnie didn’t budge. “What about the money? Y’all can still go. I’m all right when it comes to the money department. I have a lot saved up in a couple of accounts that will hold me over until I decide what I want to do. I’m tired of robbing people and killing people. That shit shouldn’t be normal! But it’s normal to me and that’s crazy.” She paused and sighed deeply. “Daddy, I know you’ve always done what you always thought was best for us, and because of you I have more money than most. But did you ever think that maybe we only do this for you? Have you ever taken a step back and thought about what we want?”

  “Every day.”

  “Then why you still got us out here moving like trained assassins? Other dads treat their daughters like princesses. You treat us like some fucking sic ’em dogs! I almost died in your arms and you still want to send me on another mission. What kind of man are you?”

  “Rhonnie, that’s enough!” Ahli stood and Rhonnie did the same.

  “You know I’m right, Ahli! I ain’t doing this fuckin’ job. He can do the shit by himself or with you two.”

  “I can’t do this without you, NaNa, you know that.”

  “Well, I guess today is the day you retire too, then.”

  Rhonnie glared at her father one more time before storming out of the living room. Shortly after, they all heard the front door slam.

  “Daddy, I—” Ahli tried to apologize for Rhonnie’s behavior but Quinton held up a hand to stop her. He’d since changed into a Jordan sweat suit and he sat in his chair looking relaxed and comfortable. His face held no expression and his eyes focused on the rug on the floor. Rhonnie’s words were circling in his head.

  “Your sister is right,” Quinton said in a low voice. “I’ve been so focused on money when I should have been focused on you two. We have more than enough money to sit on for a while. I guess I just never want fall into the pit again; enough money just hasn’t been enough money for me.”

  He cleared his throat and finally looked up at Ahli. Ahli, the one who resembled her mother, almost like a spitting image. He smiled at her and cleared his throat. “I’m going to call Lance and tell him that the deal is off.”

  “But, Daddy, that’s a lot of money. I can talk NaNa into going.”

  “But you won’t have to,” Quinton said and turned to Brayland. “Son, give me and my daughter a second. Go on to the basement and pour us up some drinks. I’ll be down in a second. I need a hit of something strong.”

  “Yup,” Brayland said, getting up so that he could leave the two of them alone.

  When he was gone Quinton turned back to Ahli, taking in what a beautiful and strong woman she had become. Rhonnie was right; he’d been viewing them as his shooters and not his daughters for some time now. He’d missed out on so much of what was right in his face. He was too busy trying to be unselfish that he ended up being selfish anyway. He had taken their lives from them and that was not at a
ll what Rhebecca would have wanted. She wanted them to have something she only tasted for a short while: freedom.

  “I think it’s time,” he finally said after staring at her for a while.

  “Time for what?”

  “That I tell you a little bit more about your mother.” Quinton stood up and headed to the stairs. “Follow me.”

  Ahli didn’t let a foot get between her and her father as she walked up the steps with him. With all of the mystery surrounding who her mother really was, she wouldn’t let the opportunity pass to know who Rhebecca was. She totally forgot all about Rhonnie’s blowout argument when she walked into Quinton’s master bedroom. She took a seat on his bed and he sat in the chair at his computer desk. Quinton stared into Ahli’s eyes for a long time, taking her in piece by piece. Everyone said she favored him, but he knew that was a lie. She was the spitting image of Rhebecca. A constant reminder of what a beautiful and great woman she once was.

  “Have I ever told you the story of how I met your mother?”

  “No,” Ahli said. “You both just used to tell me it was love at first sight. That’s it.”

  “Yes.” Quinton smiled sadly, thinking about the day he met Rhebecca. “Indeed it was. But I think it’s time for you to know the full story.”

  Ding!

  The sound of the bell at the front desk got the attention of a very attractive front desk worker. She turned around and found herself face to face with a young man with a promising face. Looking him up and down, she noticed that the shirt and jeans he wore were drenched from the rain outside and he was carrying a small travel bag with him. By looking at him you would think he was just a man down on his luck, not a deadly thief.

  “Oh, no, and here I am thinking that the rain had stopped.”

  “No, it’s still going.” The man offered a kind smile to her. “Just started pouring actually. It got so bad that I couldn’t see the roads anymore.”

  “Where were you headed?”

  “Home,” the man answered simply. “I’m just looking for a place to lay my head for the night until I can start moving again in the morning. This was the only place open.”

  The woman smoothed her hands down her skirt suit outfit with her eyes still on the man. She slowed her hands when she reached her hips, causing his eyes to shift downward.

  Damn. Baby is stacked. He hadn’t noticed how thick the woman was until then, and on top of that she had the face to match. He quickly averted his eyes back up and glanced at her nametag. “So uhh, Tamia? Do you have any rooms available?”

  “Let me check.” Tamia went over to her computer and began to tap away at the keyboard. “May I have your name please?”

  “Quinton Jacobs,” he said, giving her a fake last name. “And I will be paying with cash.”

  “No problem, Mr. Jacobs. Just give me one second.”

  While she looked for an available room Quinton used that time to take a look around the large inn. The décor was very antique like; everything looked fragile. Like the stuff your grandmother would slap you for just looking at when you were a child. It had white walls and a spotless white carpet. The lobby of the inn had many gold chairs to sit in, completed with a stone water fountain and stacks of magazines on the many tables. He found it slightly odd to have such a classy place in the middle of nowhere, but he was grateful to have found something before it got too late in the night. He would have never made it to the next town in the storm if he’d have kept driving. Still, something told him that if they were able to take a cash payment to give it to them.

  “Okay,” Tamia spoke again. “This is one of our busiest nights but we do have a room available. It’s one we don’t use very often since its one of our”—she cleared her throat—“regular rooms.”

  “I’ll take it,” Quinton said quickly. He was so tired he just wanted to lie down in a comfortable bed. “Are there bugs?”

  Tamia looked at Quinton as if he were a bug. “The Opulent Inn doesn’t have bugs,” she said, not sounding too fond of his joke. She activated a room key and handed it to him. “That will be one hundred and fifty dollars for the night. Breakfast is served in the morning until eleven o’clock. Your room number is fifty-eight. It is down that far hallway and you will take your first right. Continue down that hallway and it will be on your right side.”

  When he walked away Tamia was slightly disappointed that he didn’t glance back at her. The more she had looked at him the sexier he got. She could see his muscles in his wet T-shirt and she wondered what his arms looked like when they flexed. Yeah, she definitely wouldn’t mind taking a quick break to be broken off by that. Little did she know, a pair of round breasts and a fat backside made his manhood rise, but it would take more than that to make him bite the bait.

  Quinton followed her directions until he reached a hallway with wooden floors. He turned the corners he’d been instructed to turn and was glad when he finally found the room at the end of one of the many hallways. The coldness of the inn was starting to get to him since, after all, he was soaking wet.

  He put his key against the door until he heard it click and he pushed it open. The first things he noticed about the room was that it smelled fresh, like the laundry had just come back. And also the fact that the light was already switched on. He figured that maybe someone had hurried to place brand new sheets on the bed.

  The room was decorated much like the rest of the hotel. There were beautiful paintings hanging from the wall, clean tan carpet, a flat-screen TV, and a queen-sized bed in the middle of the room. He walked past the closed bathroom door and tossed his bag on the bed. The only thing he could think about was how good it was going to feel to have some hot shower water hitting his face.

  He searched for the remote to the television and found it by the lamp on the nightstand by the bed. Turning the TV on, he flicked through the channels until he found a movie that he wouldn’t mind watching when he got out of the bathroom. Just when he was about to turn the volume up on the TV he heard a thud, like someone had dropped something, not too far away from him. He muted the TV and stood still so that he could hear around him better. After about thirty seconds he didn’t hear anything else. He pointed the remote back to the TV.

  “What the hell is that?” he said to himself and listened to the room. When he didn’t hear anything else he shook his head. “Must have been one of the other guests.”

  The words had only been out of his mouth for a few moments when he heard a whimper. That time he knew he wasn’t being crazy; the sound came directly from the bathroom.

  He turned the TV back up before he reached in his bag to grab the fully loaded chrome 9 mm pistol from it. Slowly, with the gun aimed, he walked to where he was sure the sound came from. He was a fool to get a room at an inn in the middle of nowhere; he’d seen all those scary movies.

  Placing his ear on the cold white door he tried to listen for something on the other side of it. Sure enough, he heard rapid breathing. Someone was in there. He aimed the gun and wrapped his free hand around the doorknob. Twisting it, he flung the door open and extended the weapon in front of him.

  “Don’t move!” he called out with his finger itching on the trigger.

  What he saw was not what he expected at all. The bright lights above the wide mirror were on, shining light on the bloody scene before him. There was deep red blood all over the sink and counter with drippings that led all the way to tub. He thought that it would be someone in the room trying to pull the okie-doke and rob him. Instead, he found a trembling young woman, in her early or mid-twenties, sitting on her knees in the middle of the floor. She looked distressed and like she was caught red-handed in the middle of committing a crime. It was evident by the blood trails that she had been in the middle of frantically trying to rinse the blood from her body. Her hair was disheveled, but he noticed that she was wearing makeup and she was wearing an expensive silk robe with lingerie under it.

  “Shh,” she said, not moved by the gun. Her eyes were wide and they darted a
round him to the entrance to the room. “Shhh. P . . . please. Don’t let anyone hear you.” There was a terrified look frozen on her face and she looked around him to see if anyone had come in the room with him.

  “Who are you? How did you get in here?” Quinton asked and glanced around for the weapon she’d used to cut herself just in case she tried to use it on him.

  The woman at the desk must have double booked the room, and whatever was taking place right then he knew he wasn’t supposed to see. The woman just stared at him as if she hadn’t heard the questions. When he didn’t see a weapon he knelt down to his knees too, staining his pants at the knees. Why? He didn’t know. He should have just turned around, grabbed his bag, and asked for another room. But, the way she looked, the fear-stricken look on her face, and the eerie feeling in the room made it impossible for him to walk away. He couldn’t leave her like that.

  “Why are you cutting yourself?” he asked.

  The woman looked at her hands, the floor, and the tub before finally looking back at Quinton. Tears appeared in the corners of her doe-shaped eyes and she took an unsteady breath, shaking her head. “This . . . this isn’t my blood.”

  The intensity in the room magnified with her words and Quinton felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Quinton didn’t have time to process her words when he heard the whimpering coming from behind her. It sounded like a baby cry and when he looked over her shoulder he saw just that. There was a small brown sleeping baby wrapped up cozily in one of the white bathroom towels. Well, it used to be white; now there were bloody handprints all over it.

  What has she done? Quinton asked himself. “Did you kill his parents?”

  “Did Madame send you to find me?” She ignored his question and asked her own. She searched his face through fearful eyes knowing that if his answer was yes her plan would be foiled. “Did you tell her about the baby?”

  Quinton had no idea what she was talking about. “Listen, I just came to this place to get some sleep before I head out again in the morning. I didn’t expect to find a woman drenched in blood with a baby in my bathroom. I’m just hoping that if you killed somebody that the body ain’t in here too.”