by Donna Hill
It was probably the same file that she’d found, Mia thought.
Mia’s door opened.
Brenda twisted in her seat. Before she could react, Bernard had a handkerchief over her mouth and she crumbled in her seat.
“I’ll take it from here. Jean wants to see both of you within the hour.”
He picked Brenda up, braced her against him and put his arm around her waist to keep her on her feet. “Hand me her coat and purse.”
Mia numbly did as she was instructed.
He half dragged, half walked her out. Mia rushed to the front of the office and saw the black Ford Explorer parked at the curb. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear that was Claudia, Savannah’s mother, on the other side of the tinted windows behind the wheel.
Bernard settled Brenda into the backseat, got in beside her, and the SUV pulled off.
It was a scene right out of a James Bond movie.
Mia pressed her hand to her chest. She needed a drink.
“You want to bring me up to speed?” Ashley asked, snapping Mia out of her trance.
Mia blinked, bringing Ashley into focus. For a moment, Mia was disoriented—nothing made any sense. But in the next minute she was pissed. What the hell was going on? First Ashley was right under her nose and now Brenda. She suddenly didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. And the in-her-mind relationship with Michael was a perfect example of how she was no longer able to separate fact from fiction.
She turned on Ashley. “Is Ashley even your real name?” she railed. “What other secrets do you have that I should know about? Are you really here to spy on me, make me crazy? What did Jean do to her to make her want to have a whole other life? My God, what have I gotten myself into?”
Burning tears of anger and frustration filled her eyes and spilled over her eyelids.
Ashley stepped toward her gingerly. She put her hands on Mia’s stiff shoulders. “Mia, calm down. Okay? I know all this seems too much right now, but it’s going to be all right. I promise.”
Mia slapped her hands away. “Just leave me alone.” She held up her hands. “Leave me alone!”
Ashley took a step back. “Fine. Let me know when you’re ready to see Jean. I’ll be out front.”
Mia spun away. On wooden legs she went to the love seat in the corner and collapsed into it. She pressed her head against the back of the couch and wept. What she needed right at that moment were the strong arms of her man wrapped tightly around her, telling her that it was going to be all right. But if she knew nothing else, she knew that, at best, that little desire was hours from fruition.
They took Ashley’s Infiniti for the drive uptown to Harlem. The first few minutes of the ride were done in silence. The only sounds were the intermittent street noises.
Finally, Mia spoke. “I’m sorry for going off on you earlier. There was no excuse for taking my frustration out on you.” She turned halfway in her seat. “I apologize. Really.”
“No problem. If anyone understands how this whole thing can get to you, I do. So forget the apology. Chalk it up to stress.”
Mia faced forward. “Will you be honest with me?”
“Sure.”
“Did you know Brenda or Traci?”
Ashley shook her head. “No. She was gone before I came along. I’d heard about one of the members leaving, but it was always very hush-hush. No one would talk about it.”
“Hmm.” She was thoughtful for a moment then frowned. “How come your picture isn’t up on the hall of fame?”
Ashley laughed. “It is. It’s not in the main corridor to Jean’s office. It’s on the top floor. Most newbies don’t have access. In addition to which, when Jean assigned me to you, she intentionally moved it. Even if you had seen it you probably wouldn’t have recognized me without my Angela Davis fro.” She patted her halo of naturally spiral curls.
Mia chuckled. “I can’t imagine you without it.”
“There was a time,” she singsonged.
“What about Brenda?”
“As I said, I’d never met her before. My guess is that once she’d left the agency—and not under the best of circumstances and with Jean literally erasing her out of existence—Jean would have taken the picture down.”
“You’re probably right. Does Jean scare you?”
“Scare me? What do you mean?”
“It’s like sometimes she doesn’t have a soul and everyone is expendable in her life. It’s all about the job, at any cost.”
“For her, it is. She’s really not as coldhearted as you think. Jean…Jean has had a real rough time of it in relationships and in the career path that she chose. She was screwed over in the CIA by people less qualified than her and badly hurt by her husband.”
“Husband? I didn’t know she was married.”
“She isn’t now, but she was. What happened between them changed her a lot. She only refers to him as Mr. Armstrong. Look, I really shouldn’t be telling you this. Maybe one day she’ll tell you all about it. Maybe she won’t. All I can say is that beneath that cold, hard-ass exterior is a real decent human being. Even if she does act like a machine,” she tossed in with a smile.
“I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
“Let me put it this way. She changed my life when it desperately needed changing, and I will always be grateful to her for that.”
“Changed your life? How?”
She turned her head to look at Mia. “I was at the bottom of the food chain, strung out, living on the street…she rescued me, gave me a life. But that’s another story for another day.”
Mia rested back against the leather seat. The last person on earth she thought had a caring bone in her body was Jean Wallington-Armstrong. This little bit of information forced her to look at Jean from a different perspective. There’s always more to a person than meets the eye. No truer adage had even been written, especially when it came to the Ladies Cartel.
They pulled up in front of the brownstone.
Showtime.
Chapter 17
Claudia met Ashley and Mia at the front door when they rang the bell. Her expression was somber. “Jean is upstairs.”
Mia and Ashley walked inside behind Claudia.
“Where’s Brenda or Traci whatever her name is?” Mia asked.
“She’s here. Jean will explain everything,” Claudia replied.
After Mia and Ashley were seated, Jean didn’t waste any time getting to the point.
“I’m sure you are both aware that there has been a serious breach in security.” Her gaze darted in Brenda/Traci’s direction, who only sat up straighter in her seat, as if challenging Jean in her own way.
“So that we are all on the same page,” she began again. “Brenda Forde, known to me as Traci Bennett, was a former member of the Cartel who was decommissioned of her own accord five years ago. To my knowledge—” she cleared her throat “—Traci was off the radar and living her life, apparently much closer than I ever realized. For reasons that she has explained to me, she is willing to help us get as much inside information as necessary in the Avante Enterprises case. I’m sure that the both of you understand that because of the way she approached you we had no recourse but to take her in as quickly and as quietly as possible for questioning.
“To reassure you both, we are running a thorough check on her, using all our resources to guarantee that she will not be in a position to compromise us in any way. When the report is back, which I suspect will be shortly, I will give the clearance so that we can proceed as planned and whatever help Traci can offer will be accepted at that point.”
“How can you be sure that this isn’t some kind of setup to infiltrate the Cartel?” Ashley asked.
“I can’t. At least not right now, which is why she was drugged and blindfolded before she was brought here.” She stole another look at Traci. “She has no idea where she is.”
Mia was certain this was some weird out-of-body experience. The whole scene was surreal. Right down to the charact
ers, the dimly lit room and the manipulating head of operations moving people around like a grand puppeteer. At that moment, she wanted to jump up and run the hell out as fast and as far as she could. She wanted to have the nerve that Traci did and get out before she got dragged down so far that there was no way out. But who was to say that she wouldn’t wind up just like Traci, right back in the place she was trying to get away from?
A knock on the door drew everyone’s attention. Jasmine stepped inside. She spotted Traci sitting off to the side and there was the flash of recognition, followed by a look of admiration that quickly passed. “I have that report.” She handed over a manila folder to Jean. “I sifted through all the intel and took out the extraneous information. Only the relevant data is included.”
Jean snapped her gaze up from the papers in front of her. “The next time that I ask you to compile data on a potential rogue I want all the data! Not only what you think is important. I make those decisions. Understood?”
The entire room froze in shocked disbelief. Jean never lost her cool, and certainly never lost her temper. But it was clear that this mini-explosion was an indication that she was rattled.
Jasmine visibly recoiled from the verbal assault. “Yes. Of course. I’ll recompile the data.” She turned to leave, keeping her gaze focused on her Reeboks.
“Jasmine.”
She stopped with her hand on the knob and turned halfway. “Yes?”
Jean lifted her chin ever so slightly. “That won’t be necessary,” she said in what must be her apologetic tone. “I’m sure this will be sufficient. I can look at everything at a later time. If I think I need more, I’ll let you know.”
Jasmine only nodded and walked out, closing the door quietly behind her.
Jean took a seat behind her desk, slipped on her red-framed glasses, flipped open the folder and began to read. You could hear a pin drop in the room, the rhythm of heartbeats, the turn of a page. For a solid fifteen minutes, no one dared to move or breathe out loud. Finally she closed the folder, removed her glasses and turned to Traci. “It appears that everything you’ve said regarding your whereabouts, your activities since leaving the Cartel checks out.”
Traci’s features, which had remained taut throughout this ordeal, slowly began to relax. She gave Jean a barely there nod of her head.
“Although Traci will not be given full access to or privileges of the Cartel, she says that she is willing to help us bring down Avante Enterprises and Michael Burke. As you know, Avante is a front for an illegal escort service. We have names and amounts, but what we don’t have is irrefutable proof. We don’t have transactions taking place, photographs, audio or locations. This is where Traci can be of assistance.”
“I know Michael,” Traci began, “and, more importantly, I know how the legitimate end of the business works. I have access to the files, the computers and all the people Michael knows and associates with.” She zeroed in on Mia. “The red-carpet event that you’re running on Friday for Raven…I know that many of the women will be there. I can point them out.”
“I’d like to bring in Danielle,” Mia said.
“Explain,” Jean said curtly.
“We can use the extra hands, especially when it comes to perhaps photographing the attendees, overhearing conversations.”
Jean was thoughtful for a moment. “Fine, bring her in.” Jean exhaled. She looked from one to the other. “Anything else that you can think of?”
“No.”
“We’ll talk again the morning of the red carpet to ensure that everyone is in place and you have what you need, Mia.”
Mia nodded.
Ashley stood up and Mia followed suit. They took one last look at Traci and walked out. Bernard was right behind them.
“I still don’t know if I can trust you,” Jean said, once they were alone. She turned to face Traci. “You left once before, nearly ruining a case as a result. How do I know that you won’t suddenly have a change of heart for this man you claim to have fallen for and just tell him everything?”
“I wouldn’t do anything to risk exposing the Cartel or an operation. You know that.”
“It seems that lately I don’t know much of anything anymore. I thought I did.” Her tone sounded uncharacteristically weak, sad almost, as if for the very first time she was faced with the knowledge of her own vulnerability. “But until I can be sure about you and your real motives, I want you to stay in the background and if you can’t, I’m sure you know that I can make that happen.”
“There’s no reason to threaten me, Jean. I’m not here to hurt you or the organization. I want to see Michael brought down.”
“Because you’re a woman scorned or because you really believe what he’s doing is wrong?” she taunted.
Traci’s jaw clenched. “Maybe a little of both.”
“But why come back now?”
She glanced away. “I’ve known that Michael didn’t love me, but I thought he at least cared for and respected me. When I stumbled across those files, everything that I thought about him began to crumble. I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to be wrong. And then Mia shows up and I can see in an instant where his heart is and has always been. I guess something inside me snapped and when I found the listening device and knew the source, whatever kind of fleeting hope or desire I may have had regarding me and Michael vanished. I realized that what I’d found had merit and it wasn’t my imagination because the Cartel was already investigating him.”
“You disappointed me, Traci,” she said, her voice leaden with regret. “You were the best. You were more than a Cartel member, you were like my own child.” She turned sad eyes on Traci, eyes begging to understand what she’d done that had prompted Traci to run away.
“I guess I can tell you now.”
“Tell me what now?”
“The truth about why I really left the Cartel when I was in Chicago. I can finally tell you about that scumbag you married,” she said, her voice hard with emotion.
“What! What the hell are you talking about?”
“Your husband tried to sleep with me. Not once, not twice, but every chance he got, which was many, since I was always at your home.”
Jean’s face blanched. “W-what are you saying?”
“Yes, Eric Armstrong. He went so far as to blackmail me into sleeping with him.”
Jean flinched. “Why are you lying? He wouldn’t do that!”
“Of course he would. Eric was as manipulative as you are. It’s why you both got along up to a point. But Eric was manipulative for his own greedy reasons.” She crossed the room then walked back, talking as she did. “To this day I don’t know how he did it. He had an audiotape of my voice—calling him, telling him…things. Talking about how great it was between us, what I wanted him to do to me the next time we were together.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as if she’d suddenly gotten a chill. She stopped walking and turned to look straight at Jean. “He told me that he was going to give you the tapes if I didn’t sleep with him. I couldn’t let him do that.” She shook her head, her gaze looking back to that ugly time in her past. “You were so in love with him. Happy for the first time since I’d known you. I mean, really happy. I knew if he gave those to you, it would kill you inside, ruin our relationship. I couldn’t let him do it. So I left. I left the Cartel and my whole life so that I wouldn’t ruin yours.”
Jean’s face was so pale it became translucent. She didn’t move. She didn’t speak. Slowly she lowered herself into her chair. With what appeared to be almost painful understanding, she leveled her gaze on Traci.
“Giving you this information and helping is my way of making up for walking out on you and not telling you what kind of bastard you were married to.” She pressed her fist to her mouth then moved it away, drawing in air through her mouth. “When I found out what Michael was doing, it brought it all back—women being used—even if they are getting paid.”
“I…think I always knew,” Jean said, her words barely above
a whisper. “I knew he saw other women, but I turned a blind eye because I loved him.” Her throat worked up and down. She blinked several times. “But never this. Not what he tried to do to you. I’m so sorry, Traci.” She slowly shook her head, her eyes pleading for forgiveness.
They moved simultaneously toward each other and embraced, erasing all the years that had separated them.
Chapter 18
Mia and Ashley left Bernard at the brownstone and started back to the office.
“So what do you make of everything that happened back there?” Mia asked as they pulled out into the late-afternoon Manhattan traffic.
“I think the thing that freaks me out the most is to realize that Jean is not infallible. That she really doesn’t know everything and that there was actually someone out there who had outsmarted her—for years. That scares me because Jean scares me. But Traci is the real deal.”
Mia nodded in agreement. “I know exactly what you mean. Not to see Jean in total control was a reality check, to say the least.”
“So it looks like we’re going to be working with Traci. How do you feel about that?”
“You mean because of her relationship with Michael?”
“Yeah.”
“Hmm. I don’t feel anything one way or the other. Whatever illusions I may have had about Michael have been crushed. To be truthful, I feel bad for Traci. Michael is a charismatic man. His aura can overwhelm you and before you know it you’re totally mesmerized by him, doing things you never would have thought you would do. And when your heart and emotions are all tied up in it, it’s that much more devastating. But from what I’ve seen so far, Traci is a strong woman. She’ll be fine.”
“Damn, I was looking forward to the catfight!”
Mia poked her in the arm and they both laughed.
