Cassandra stretched her red rimmed eyes in surprise and looked up at her daughter. “What’re you doing here?” she mumbled, wiping drool from her lips with the back of her hand. She was dressed in a nightgown, which was stained in the front, her hair was sticking up all over her head, a clear sign that she had not bathed or combed her hair, and Deidre could smell the stench of alcohol from a distance. Her mother was on a binge again. Deidre wondered how many years it would take for her mother to get over the past.
“You remember this birthday party?” Cassandra screamed over the loud music, jutting her hand forward and spilling some of her drink.
Crinkling her face, Deidre searched in vain for the remote. “How can you hear yourself think?” she screamed.
“Your father had just come back from one of his so-called business trips, and you were so gotdamn happy to see him,” her mother slurred, tears now streaming her cheeks. “You were always so happy to see him. Oh yes, your Daddy could do no wrong,” Cassandra continued, taking a swig of her libation.
Deidre walked over to the television, refusing to look at the tape of her and her father. She turned it off. Turning back towards her mother, she felt relieved that she’d chosen to visit Cassandra. Her mother was clearly in no condition to be alone. Kneeling in front of her, Deidre removed the liquor from her grasp.
“What are you doing? I’m not bothering anybody with my drink. It’s just a lil’ bit,” Cassandra mumbled, rolling her eyes at the same time.
“Mom, you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” Deidre whispered, grabbing her mother and hugging her. Deidre shut her eyes, straining to fight back tears.
“Me? Doing it to myself? No! He did this to us! You are selfish just like him!” Cassandra screamed through tears, shoving her daughter away.
“Okay. You’re not in your right mind. Let’s go lay down,” Deidre consoled, grabbing her mother by the arm, trying to get her to stand up.
“Don’t touch me!” Cassandra garbled her words, snatching back her arm.
“Huh,” Deidre sighed. She wanted to run out of the door and return to New York. Right then, she admitted to herself that she felt more comfortable around the F.A.B. and R.J. than she did around her own mother.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha!” Cassandra suddenly let out a scary cacophonous laugh. A startled Deidre looked at her mother, confused. “Did you know that your father was an adulterous slut? Did you know that his woman never stopped calling me? Up until the day your father died, she called and called!” Cassandra bellowed, pointed an accusing finger in Deidre’s direction.
“Mom, please let’s not talk about this now. I came off assignment for one night to see you. I’ve missed you,” Deidre pleaded, again attempting to get her mother out of the chair.
“No! You listen to me. What I have to say is important,” Cassandra announced, attempting to stand up on her own, only to fall back down in the chair.
Deidre inhaled, exasperated, and walked to the couch, leaving Cassandra alone.
“Your father cheated on me every day of our marriage. That woman, she was beautiful. She had long hair and a beautiful body. She was young and gave him what I couldn’t. I met her. So young and dumb, that home wrecking bitch! Why would a man leave his wife for her? It didn’t matter if she was pregnant, or if she had had fifty children. Your father would’ve never left me for her. But he left her brokenhearted. He didn’t know that I spoke to her. I visited with her. I never wanted her to see you, and I never wanted you to see them!” Cassandra wailed. She was overcome with racking sobs.
Deidre just listened to her mother ramble. It was hard to hear. She didn’t want to believe a word her mother was saying. Her father was her hero. Not my father! He loved us . . . both of us! She’s crazy! Deidre thought to herself, in full denial. She rested her head on the back of the couch, closing her eyes in anguish. Her mother ranted until she wore herself out.
Deidre jumped out of her sleep. Looking around frantically, trying to get her bearings, she finally remembered where she was—on her mother’s couch. Sitting up, she scanned the room. Her mother was not there. Deidre quickly remembered the painful night she’d endured and was overcome by an urgency to leave.
“Good morning!” Cassandra chimed, coming from the kitchen with a smile on her face like nothing ever happened.
“Morning,” Deidre mumbled. She was not in the mood for this Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde routine her mother performed so often. Her mother’s behavior took her back to a place in her childhood that was very painful. All she wanted to do was leave.
“You want breakfast?” Cassandra asked.
“No, that’s okay. I have to get back on assignment,” Deidre replied, standing up and straightening her rumpled clothes.
“Look, about last night . . .” Cassandra started.
“Mom look. I just came to see how you were doing. Don’t worry about it. I’m used to it,” Deidre said with an attitude.
“Baby, I’m in pain everyday. With you gone, I’m lonely,” Cassandra explained, choking back tears.
“You don’t have to explain,” Deidre whispered. She walked over to her mother and kissed her on the forehead, just like her father used to do. “I love you. I’ll call you.” Deidre said, walking straight to the front door. She left her mother standing alone, also just like her father used to do. In her car she broke down in tears. Looking out the windshield at her mother’s house, she prepared to pull out.
Her undercover cell phone rang. Deidre pulled herself together and picked it up. “Hello . . . ? What’s up, Chazz . . . ? I’m on my way back to the city . . . What ya’ll gettin’ into tonight . . . ?” Deidre said into the receiver, her heart racing. “Nah, I’m a’ight. Just got a cold. I’ll see ya’ll when I get there,” she replied to Chastity. Deidre disconnected the line, threw her car in reverse and headed back to New York.
VOLUME 13: THE WARNING
It felt like days, but actually months had passed. The last remnants of the blustery New York winter cleared up, and the first signs of spring in Brooklyn became apparent. The first thing Deidre noticed was how many people came outside as soon as the days got warm. She hardly saw anyone on the streets during the winter when she first arrived in Brooklyn. Now, she had to damn near dodge human bodies just walking down the sidewalk. All of the motorcycles that revved up and down her block at night were also a telltale sign that the weather had broken.
She had become closer with the F.A.B. and R.J. It had taken some time, but she’d finally broken the wall that stood between her and them. Every day she documented everything she did with them—shopping, eating out, drug deals—everything. But, she still hadn’t found out anything about Amber Reeves.
Deidre stared at her computer contemplating what to write. The night before, Chastity had revealed to her that the F.A.B. was in the process of constructing their own meth lab in upstate New York. “I’m trying to cut out the fucking middleman,” Chastity had said. She hadn’t told Leticia and Tori yet. “Loca is my girl, but the bitch got a big mouth, and Tori ain’t about her business these days. DeeDee, I’m kinda trusting you these days, and a bitch like me don’t fuck with no other bitches,” Chastity had told Deidre.
Deidre thought about forgetting the entire conversation and letting it go. She had seen firsthand the real side of Chazz, Loca and Tori, and they were normal girls trying to survive and move past their pasts, just like her. Maybe this one thing can pass, Deidre thought to herself. Ferguson wouldn’t know unless I told her.
Deidre didn’t even realize that the lines between her being a drug dealer and a Fed were beginning to become blurry.
“Bang! Bang!” The door to Deidre’s apartment rattled. Startled, she raised her eyebrows and looked up from her computer screen. On display were all of the things that revealed that she was an agent, including her wire and gun. She furrowed her eyebrows and moved cautiously towards the door. “Who is it?” she screamed from inside, hand on her gun.
“Dragonetti Flowers!” the male voice announced. Dei
dre slowly opened the apartment door, standing behind it so she could peak out slightly. “Flowers for DeeDee,” the young white boy announced.
Deidre stepped around the door to accept the package. Twenty-four fully opened red roses were thrust into her hands. She gasped at their beauty. “Thank you!” she said, digging in her pocket and handing the boy a five-dollar tip. The bouquet was so large it almost blocked her view entirely. Placing them on the coffee table, she hastily picked up the card.
“Seems like we were meant to meet. You may be the love I never knew—R.J.”
Deidre read the card several times before she placed it up against her chest. “If you only knew who I was!” she mumbled as she walked over to her nightstand and picked up her cell phone.
“Yo!” R.J. said, picking up.
“Thank you for the beautiful flowers,” Deidre said in a low sexy whisper.
“Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman,” R.J. replied.
“You shouldn’t have, really,” she said modestly.
“Stick with me and there is more where that came from. I gotta go, ma. I’m taking care of business,” he said mysteriously, and was gone.
Deidre clipped the phone shut and sighed. Suddenly it dawned on her. How did he know my address? She hadn’t told any of them that she was staying in Brooklyn. They always thought she stayed in a hotel, and actually had a pad in her hometown of D.C. That lie worked when Deidre needed to disappear when she had to meet with Ferguson. The girls just always thought she was back in D.C. Deidre always prayed that no one would ask to accompany her home. Receiving the flowers threw her off course, and her heart began to thump . . . hard.
“Tsk-tsk, Ricky! I can’t believe you. You disappoint me,” the skinny Mexican man said in a heavy Spanish accent.
“I just need more time. Reeves surprised me too when he signed the drug control policy,” Ricky said nervously.
As powerful as Ricky was, Carlos Esperanza had become the most notorious drug kingpin in the world. He even had the Colombians beat. The Mexicans had the crystal meth game on lock, and they planned on keeping it that way.
Carlos didn’t like Ricky. In his assessment, his father, Diego had been taken away from him as a child at the hands of Senator Reeves, when Reeves was District Attorney. Carlos had no childhood visits with his father behind bars. He’d been groomed all of his life to get retribution for Diego. Ricky owed a debt to Diego, and Carlos was going to collect. He expected to be repaid when, as agreed, Senator Reeves kept the new drug control policy from becoming law. As far as Carlos was concerned, Reeves and Ricky had reneged on a deal that was made years before he was even old enough to drive. The younger Esperanza was more ruthless than his father, and he intended to let Ricky know it.
“You now owe me twenty-million instead of the seven you lost when your partner stole from my father,” Carlos informed Ricky, cracking his knuckles.
“C’mon, man. I took care of Ramon as soon as he did that. I thought I had settled that score. It was years ago. I’ve been bringing you almost a million a week since then,” Ricky said, pleading his case.
“I don’t give a fuck! Senator Reeves fucked up my business, and you took money and product from me with the promise you would fix it! You haven’t delivered!” Carlos scolded, breathing hotly in Ricky’s face. It made his dick hard to see this old man sweating under the pressure.
“Just give me more time!” Ricky implored. He hated this little snot nose, wetback bastard!
“I thought you said you knew where Ramon’s children were, and that you would take care of them. In my culture, revenge is the settler of all disputes. You don’t just kill a man, you kill his entire family,” Carlos said flatly. “Don’t you think my father deserves revenge?” he asked, his accent making Ricky sick to his stomach.
“I need them right now. They are going to provide a way for me to pay you back. I think one of them may have the money,” Ricky said.
“Yes. Isn’t one of them a fucking federal cockroach just like you?” Carlos asked.
“Yes, she is a federal agent, and I’m using her to get to the other two,” Ricky answered.
“So you don’t know which of Ramon’s children has the money, huh?” Carlos inquired, running his hand through his long, greasy jet-black hair.
“No. Ramon had two families, and I have grown close to all of his children in one way or another. I’m using them against each other to find out where the money is. I promise, I’ll have your money back!” Ricky swore, feeling even his balls sweat.
“How many fucking years will it take, Ricky? I’m not happy with you, and neither is my father,” Carlos stated threateningly.
Ricky looked on with fear dancing in his eyes.
“Well, you only have a short time before I kill you and your whole family. I want my money!” Carlos demanded. Snapping his fingers in the direction of a tall man standing guard at his office door, the man came forward with a large suitcase, which he handed to Ricky. “This will be your last supply until I get all of my money,” Carlos informed, turning his swivel chair around, giving Ricky his back.
Ricky picked up the suitcase and backed out of the door, his body drenched in sweat. As soon as he stepped into the penthouse elevator, he upchucked his stomach contents. This shit was out of hand. It was nothing like when he first got into the game. He learned that there was a whole new breed of criminals taking over. He was going to have to step up the heat on Deidre and the F.A.B., but first he needed to exact revenge on Senator Reeves.
“Hello,” Senator Reeves breathed into the phone, groggy from the sedatives his doctor had prescribed since Amber went missing. He bolted upright at the sound of the voice.
“Did you sign the contract yet?” the voice at the other end asked.
“I can’t right now. The FBI wants to keep all media away right now. It would be very suspicious if I cut a deal with 20/20 or Dateline for my story,” Senator Reeves whispered, his head beginning to spin. A plan that he thought would be well-hatched had cracked.
“Well then, you better find the money then. You better start making phone calls for Congressional earmarks, or sell your ass if you have to!” the voice barked.
“Please, just release her! We can find another way!” Senator Reeves whispered, moving close to the door to make sure all of the law enforcement officials that had taken up residence in his apartment thought he was still asleep. He had offered up his daughter as a sacrificial lamb because he wasn’t man enough to face his own demons.
“There is no other way now. It’s too fucking late. When you signed the National Drug Control Policy and agreed to this plan, you signed your daughter’s death warrant! You wanted to get rid of the embarrassment anyway, didn’t you! Well consider it gone!” the voice growled, disconnecting the line.
Senator Reeves dropped to his knees. What had he done? He wept for his daughter, his career, and for the shame he would surely bring to his family if his secret ever got out.
“Life is a mystery. Every time I am alone, I hear you call my name, and it feels like home,” Amber Reeves recited the Madonna lyrics in a weak raspy voice. She hadn’t had a visit from the lady or man in a few days. In order to keep herself from losing her sanity, she sang songs all day and all night until she fell asleep. Hearing footsteps, she didn’t know whether to be excited or scared. Amber wanted them to just kill her and get it over with. The door creaked open and the bright light that came in temporarily blinded her.
“Sit up!” the female demanded from behind the bright light.
Amber struggled to get up, but the one hand that was cuffed to the bed made it hard for her to sit all the way up.
Not to mention she was very weak. She used her free hand to shield her eyes as she tried to get a good look at her assailants.
“Put your fucking hands down and sit up!” the lady demanded again.
Amber did as she was told.
“Now speak to your daddy. Tell him you are about to die, and that only he can save you,” the evi
l, faceless woman instructed.
“Daddy, please save me! I’m begging you, Daddy! Pul-ee-ese! They will kill me! Give them what they want!” Amber screamed into the light, her entire body trembling. Her weakened state made it hard for her to even get enough air into her lungs to scream out the words.
“Okay, now shut up!” the man commanded.
Amber didn’t know he was there. With his usual black mask on, he rushed over to her side. She couldn’t see anything but spots because she’d looked into the light so long. She didn’t see what he was holding. Suddenly, she felt him grab her free hand, and she immediately tried to pull it away.
“Keep the fuck still! Do it now!” he screamed, instructing another man to move.
Amber could see the sweat on the second man’s shiny black bald head. She locked eyes with him, still struggling to free her hand from his grip, but it was too late. “Bernard! No! Arrgh!” she let out a deafening scream as the man chopped off her index and middle fingers on her right hand. Blood squirted everywhere. “Aghhh!” Amber continued to scream, biting down on her tongue so hard that blood filled her mouth.
“This is going to be a message for your daddy. His time has run out,” the man said, leaving the girl to bleed to death.
Bernard ran out of the room, almost knocking over the video equipment. “She saw my fucking face, and she screamed my name on the tape!” he said, panting and out of breath.
“She’s going to die, so what do you care? If you’re good, we’ll edit out your name, but only if you help me finish this job,” Ricky said with no remorse at all.
The media cameras camped in front of the Reeves’ estate made it hard for the FedEx delivery guy to walk up the driveway. Before he could make it through the sea of reporters, he was stopped by a man dressed in a suit, dark glasses and a clear coiled wire in his ear. “Can I help you sir?” the Secret Service agent asked.
“Um . . . um . . . I got a package for Senator R-R-Reeves,” the meek delivery boy stuttered.
“I’ll take it,” the agent replied, grabbing the box.
Hush Page 12
