by Emery, Lynn
“By indications I take it you mean there is no hard evidence, and Jack isn’t here to defend himself. Correct?” MiMi stared him down.
“His brother pretty much confirmed it though,” Agent Young replied.
“Ryan Crown got himself into a lot of things Jack didn’t approve of, Agent Young. Which brings me back to my original question; why are you at my home?”
“You’re correct about one thing, Ms. Landry. We have no definitive evidence that Jackson Crown was involved in drug or gun smuggling,” Agent Morrison said quietly.
MiMi stood. “Thank you for finally admitting what I already knew. He has three surviving children, as I’m sure you have in your files. Their father’s memory shouldn’t be tarnished, especially when you have no proof. Now I’m expecting company.”
Agent Morrison tucked her note pad away and glanced at her partner as she stood. “Right.”
“Mr. Roderick Jefferson,” Agent Young said. He rose and towered over MiMi.
“Okay, you’ve established that you can dig up facts on the private lives of American citizens,” MiMi replied.
“We’re looking into his business as well. You seem to have a taste for men who like to move money out of the country, Ms. Landry.” Agent Young spoke in a bland tone that managed to communicate sarcasm perfectly.
MiMi’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Now you just wait a minute…”
“Let’s stick to why we’re here, the late Mr. Crown,” Agent Morrison broke in with a brief sideways glance at her partner.
“Skip to the part about how any of this has to do with me please,” MiMi shot back, still eyeing Agent Young. Her temper flared hotter when he affected a half smile at her.
“Our agency is trying to determine if Jackson Crown and Roderick Jefferson or his father were ever in business.” Agent Morrison stopped as though waiting for a reaction.
MiMi crossed her arms and transferred her gaze to Morrison. “What you mean is you haven’t found any connection and I can’t give you one. In fact, I’m sure Roderick and Jack never formally met.”
Agent Morrison nodded with a sympathetic expression. “Yes, you’re right. As far as we can tell they didn’t know each other.”
“Then have a good evening. I support your efforts to catch real criminals.” MiMi started for the door but Agent Morrison’s voice stopped her.
“Then there’s the matter of your assets.”
MiMi faced the two agents, neither of whom had moved. “What do you mean?”
“As I said, Mr. Ryan Crown admitted knowing Felipe Perez was a drug dealer and selling stolen guns. The money earned was part of an illegal enterprise, as such they are subject to seizure.”
“With all the resources at your fingertips I’m sure y’all will find it in no time. Now if you’ll excuse me,” MiMi replied.
“Not just money, but anything bought with that money, Ms. Landry. Like this house,” Agent Morrison added.
“You can’t be serious,” MiMi hissed. “Jack ran a successful business for over eight years. I’d like to see you prove exactly where the money came from to buy my home.”
“Our forensic accounting section is very good, Ms. Landry,” Agent Young replied promptly. He glanced at his partner as if signaling her turn to be sympathetic.
Agent Morrison responded on cue. “I’m really sorry to drop this kind of news on your Ms. Landry. You’ve had a rough time in the last few weeks. We don’t think you knew about the laundered money.”
“At least not at the time Jack Crown got it. But you did visit a bank in the Dominican Republic.” Agent Young stared at her intently.
“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. If you have any other questions, I’ll have you get in touch with my lawyer.” MiMi tried not to let her voice shake as much as her knees did at that moment. The calm manner of the two FBI agents unnerved her as much as the bomb they’d dropped.
“So you already hired a lawyer, huh?” Agent Young said.
“Unless you plan to put my furniture out tonight, please leave,” MiMi snapped. Her boldness hid the fear that they would in fact start setting her belongings on the curb.
“The Marshals Service is working on it,” Agent Young replied.
“What Agent Young means…” Agent Morrison glanced at her partner. After a silent message passed between them, the tall man turned to leave.
“I’ll check in,” he said over his shoulder. Seconds later the front door opened and bumped shut.
Agent Morrison let out a short breath. “I realize what a shock this must be, Ms. Landry.”
“Don’t bother with the ‘I’m on your side’ speech. I may have been born at night, but it wasn’t last night. Interview over,” MiMi said.
“Things aren’t looking good for you. First you get busted for drugs in a foreign country. Your new boyfriend has questionable business practices, and your ex-boyfriend—”
“Jack was my fiancé, Agent Morrison. Do I have to write it down on an index card so you’ll remember?” MiMi didn’t have to pretend. She was officially pissed off. “The judge in the Dominican Republic ruled that I didn’t buy or sell drugs, but you already know that. You also have no proof Roderick, Jack or I committed a crime. So this little visit to rattle me and get a guilty confession wasted your time, and mine.”
“I’m trying to help you.” Agent Morrison wore a frown of regret.
“Good, find the truth and clear my name. Goodbye.” MiMi squinted at her.
“We’ll be in touch.” Agent Morrison didn’t wait to observe the effect of her words. She spun around to walk away.
MiMi beat her to the door and opened it. “Save our tax dollars and stop chasing the wrong people.”
She shut the door firmly once the woman was through it. MiMi clicked the locks hard. Then she backed away from the door, a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. When the doorbell rang again she jumped. The agents had left only long enough to come back and take everything she owned. Looking around in desperation, MiMi tried to think of who she could call. Her parents would be mortified to take her in under such circumstances. The phone rang. Roderick’s name displayed.
“Sorry I’m late, but come down and open the door. We can still make the seven fifteen showing if we hustle,” Roderick said.
MiMi marched to the front door, phone still in her hand and pulled open the front door. She glared at him. “I suppose the delay was because you had a chat with my visitors. How many times do you plan to get me thrown in prison?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Roderick realized he was talking into his cell phone. He frowned and ended the call.
MiMi grabbed him by the arm and pulled him inside. “Come in, baby, and explain a few minor details. The damn movie can wait.”
****
Predictably, Monday came too soon. After a weekend of jumping at every sound in the house, the last place she wanted to be was at work. Tyler gazed at MiMi with undisguised disdain.
“You have to take off early. Again. After being gone for weeks.”
“I’m leaving an hour early for an appointment,” MiMi replied shortly. She kept tapping the keys of her laptop as she talked. “You can get me on my cell phone if anything urgent comes up. But I’m on top of my assignments.”
“Kerry wants the team to meet on the summer in-store and window displays. Six of our stores have a deadline set by the mall managers.”
“Right, they want stores to coordinate themes to give shoppers a consistent experience, I know. I don’t leave for another two hours. I’m sending them graphics. Fred and his team did design suggestions. Harold is ready to help them order display supplies for the May Day and Cinco De Mayo sales. Mr. Jenkins and Darcas gave the green light to the ideas we sent. Oh, and we’re working the Fourth of July display drafts.”
“Kerry has all these I assume?” Tyler tapped the stylus of his tablet computer against one cheek. “She doesn’t like being blindsided.”
MiMi stopped typing. She swiveled her
chair and affected as much sincerity as possible in her expression. “I know how busy she’s been with renovations of the store in Jacksonville, Florida. Plus she’s got so many other priorities. These are details I took care of to relieve her.”
“So the answer is no. Once again you went behind her back to the bosses,” Tyler drawled. He made notes on the tablet, the stylus moving fast across the smooth surface.
“Unclench your sphincter muscles, Ty-Ty. Doing my job is not going behind Kerry’s back. Mr. Jenkins always says we should pull in the same direction.” MiMi smiled at him.
“Kerry is your boss, MiMi. You might want to stay on her good side,” Tyler warned.
MiMi almost blurted out that the woman had no good side but swallowed the comeback. Even so, her voice held an edge. “I’m ahead of the curve on the whole display thing. My projects are on schedule. Those two facts should be doing wonders for her good side. Instead she’s…”
Tyler gazed at her anticipation. “She’s what?”
“She’s worried for no good reason,” MiMi replied mildly. Whew, that was close. She almost gave the little snitch ammunition to use against her.
“Yeah, I’ll just bet that’s what you meant to say,” Tyler mumbled.
“What else?” MiMi blinked at him, a wide-eyed look of innocence on her face. Then she swiveled back to face her desk again. She hit a send button. “There, your concerns have just been addressed. I sent Kerry a link to the cloud with all the wonderful work the team has done. We’ve put in our best effort, all due to her leadership.”
“Oh please.” Tyler looked up at the ceiling and gave a snort.
“You’re not saying her leadership is… lacking I hope.” MiMi raised an eyebrow at him.
Tyler gasped. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Glad to hear it. By the way, did I mention Darcas asked for an update on the displays? I have her email from last week. So in the unlikely event someone says I went behind Kerry’s back, well I have to respond to head of merchandising. Right?”
“Clever. Be careful you don’t hurt yourself being smug,” Tyler said crisply. He strode off.
MiMi’s co-worker, Elle, came into her office seconds later. The tall strawberry blonde was an ex-model like Kerry. As usual, she was dressed in what fashion stylists called “casual elegance”. Her spice orange tunic set off her coloring perfectly. Brown leggings tucked into distressed brown leather riding boots finished off the outfit. Many of MiMi’s colleagues were former models, including the men. MiMi liked to joke that they all made her feel like a chubby munchkin. Elle looked over her shoulder in the direction Tyler had gone down the hall.
“Girl, what did you do to put that sour look on Tyler’s face? I asked him a question and he got snippy.” Elle’s accent identified her as a “Yat” from New Orleans. She plopped her five foot eight inch frame in a chair in front of MiMi’s desk.
“I just spoiled his plan to give Kerry dirt to use against me. Forget him. Thanks for helping me out. I’m sorry you had to add some of my work to your already crowded plate.”
“Anything that that irritates Tyler gives me pleasure, baby,” Elle quipped. Her expression turned serious. “Is there something you need to tell me? You’ve been looking mighty stressed today.”
“I’m a single mother. Stress is my middle name,” MiMi replied and gave a dramatic sigh.
“Uh-huh. Kerry has been asking around to see if you talked to anyone. I’ll bet she has Tyler snooping to find out. What happens in Vegas don’t always stay in Vegas, ya know?” Elle’s expertly shaped eyebrows went up to the bangs of her pretty bob haircut.
“Yeah, except I wasn’t in Vegas,” MiMi quipped. Still, fear spiked in her chest.
“Vegas, Dominica, you know what I’m talkin’ here,” Elle replied.
“Dominican Republic, Elle. Dominica is a very different Caribbean Island several hundred miles away.” MiMi flipped images saved on the Fashion Sense cloud used for staff collaboration.
Elle hitched her chair closer to the desk and lowered her voice. “Yeah, yeah, so I got a C in geography. Look, you don’t have to tell me, okay? I got your back. Hell, you covered my ass more than a few times. I’ve got a plan.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you…” MiMi brushed a hand through her hair.
“I understand.” Elle shrugged.
MiMi sighed. Then she got up and closed her office door. “Roderick bought weed and we both ended up in jail. Our parents got us lawyers, paid our fines and we got the hell outta there.”
Elle stared at her, mouth open for a few seconds. “Wow.”
“Yeah.” MiMi slumped into her chair again. “Anyway, I don’t think Kerry will find out. We didn’t make the news down there.”
“Humph, don’t put anything past that devious hussy. Okay, so about my plan. We’ll spread disinformation.” Elle nodded to herself.
“What?”
“So Cal in IT and Nadia in HR are the worst gossips. I’ll tell them some story about how you and the rich boyfriend had a falling out, he left you stranded and you were too humiliated to tell the truth.”
MiMi laughed. “C’mon Elle.”
“Yes, you were sick, but it was from the heartbreak which led to a deep depression. You didn’t want to be the object of pity, so you kept the truth from everyone. You’ve been in therapy. But,” Elle cut off another protest from MiMi. “There’s a happy ending. You two crazy kids finally worked it out.”
MiMi wiped her eyes with a tissue from the box on her desk. “No one is going to believe that mess.”
“I’ll tell them you broke down and told me what happened. The partial truth always makes a lie sound credible.” Elle nodded.
“So you have a lot of experience telling lies. I hope you’ve used your powers for good.” MiMi shook a forefinger at her.
Elle wore a smirk. “Mostly. Anyway, Kerry makes it obvious you’re on her list.”
“Yeah, but Darcas likes me. A lot. So does Mr. Jenkins, they kinda think I’m precious.” MiMi patted her hair and sniffed.
“Bull crap,” Elle said with a snort. “Their sales have gone up. You do a damn good job figuring out trends and what fashions customers want each season. But you are cute I have to admit.”
MiMi started to smile back at her. Then remembered the grim faced agents on her doorstep. If she could get her cute power to work on the FBI, life would be awesome. “Yeah, but they’ll drop kick my butt if those numbers start going in the wrong direction. So for the next few weeks, I’ll come in early when possible, even work at home.”
“You can’t keep going at this pace, not without sacrificing time with your baby. Anyway, if the sales are good, but you bring bad publicity to the Fashion Sense brand…” Elle shrugged.
“Yeah, Kerry can’t find out about… what happened.” MiMi shivered. Not to mention an employee being investigated by the FBI and tied to a murder.
Elle leaned forward. “My story will keep them busy, re-direct her energy. She can’t go after an emotionally fragile single mother. Not only will it make her look bad, but I’ll remind her that it’s illegal. Remember the Americans with Disabilities act?”
MiMi gazed at her friend. “I have a new appreciation for your devious mind, girl.”
Chapter 8
That night MiMi put Sage to bed at eight o’clock. She’d convinced Roderick that they were going to have a romantic interlude. She set the scene with mood lighting and a silky wrap blouse over matching lounge pants. Roderick eagerly agreed to bring dinner. He showed up, bags in hand with a big smile.
“Am I on time, baby?” He came in and gave MiMi a peck on the forehead before heading to the kitchen. A delicious smell of garlic and onions trailed after him.
MiMi closed and locked the back door. “Right on time. Put the food on the counter. I’m going to heat it up.”
“Yeah, by now it’s room temperature. Baton Rouge traffic is a pain that never goes away.” Roderick set the bags down. He faced her. “What’s next,
oh gorgeous one?”
“Let’s have a little talk.” MiMi forced a smile. She pointed to the long counter with three wooden stools. “Take a seat.”
“Whoa, you sound too serious. This was going to be another special night like the last two we’ve had.” Roderick walked to MiMi and put both arms around her waist. He tried to kiss her, but she turned her face away.
“Sit.” MiMi pushed back from him.
Roderick sat down and leaned one elbow on the granite surface of the counter. Dressed in a long sleeved brown shirt and Army green slacks, he looked relaxed. “Okay then. But I thought we’d hashed out that whole incident in the DR.”
“You left out a few details. Anything you need to tell me?” MiMi wrestled with the urge to blow up at him.
Roderick affected a thoughtful expression. After ten or fifteen seconds he shook his head. “Honestly, babe, I told you everything. I thought we had built up some trust. Come on now. Don’t over think it and come up with more questions.”
“Actually, I’m not talking about what happened on our trip. The FBI paid me a visit about Jack’s death and his business deals.” MiMi watched him. His short exhale signaled relief.
“Damn, Jack’s issues won’t die. Sorry, bad choice of words. Come here, girl. Let me make you forget, at least for a little while.”
“You might need some comfort yourself. They mentioned you, too.” MiMi crossed her arms.
He wore a puzzled frown. “Me? I never even met the guy, much less did business with him.”
“The FBI is looking into your family’s company. So I started wondering just what exactly haven’t you told me.”
“I don’t understand. The FBI?” Roderick’s smooth charmer facade slipped. He blinked rapidly as he pulled a hand over his face.
“So they haven’t questioned you yet?” MiMi squinted at him.
“Wh-what exactly did they say? I mean their exact words.” Roderick got up and started to pace. “Damn, I told dad and Uncle Harold not to…”
“So you know what they’re talking about,” MiMi said mildly.
“Look, it’s not that bad. We helped with some exports to the Caribbean. One of the guys has a criminal record, but he’s clean now; a totally legitimate businessman.”
