The Reign of Rain Robinson

by Roy Glenn

  It was good advice; advice she should take, and she knew it. Carmen looked over at Max as he drove; she knew that even though he was right there with her, he knew it. She looked out the window and knew that what she should do is turn to Max right then and say, “You know what, Max?”

  “What’s that?”

  “I think that I should do what Harmon says and let this drop before I get hurt or worse.”

  “I think that’s for the best, Carmen. Let the police do their job,” Max would have said and then he would have made a U-turn.

  “I’m gonna call Jada right now and tell her to get packed because we’re going to Paris.”

  But Carmen didn’t say that. She looked at Max and said, “Was Carolina mad when I called?”

  “Not really. She’s gotten used to you calling at all hours of the day and night.”

  “Well, tell her that I said that I’m sorry,” Carmen said and looked back out the window, thinking about that morning’s interrogation by the detective.

  Where the previous morning, Harmon focused on why Carmen shot Kenneth Castellano when he was leaving the diner and she was in no apparent danger, today the detective wanted to talk at length about where she got the gun.

  Carmen went into an elaborate and winding tale about a story that she had once covered. She told Harmon about how she was kidnapped at gunpoint and then locked in a laundry room and had to be rescued. Which was a true story; she and Jada did get themselves locked in a laundry room and they had to be rescued by Black and Shy.

  “After that incident was when I decided that I needed to start carrying a weapon.”

  “Where’d you get the gun, Ms. Taylor?”

  “I had a friend of mine get it for me.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why did you have a friend get it for you, when you could have easily got one yourself?” Harmon asked.

  “I was busy, so I asked a friend to get one for me.”

  “You asked for an unregistered gun?”

  “No, I just said, get me a gun.”

  “And that’s it?”

  “I did say please,” Carmen smiled thinking once again that this isn’t gonna be as easy as I thought.

  “The reason I bring this up, Ms. Taylor, is that you are licensed to carry a firearm in the state of New York. You could have walked into any licensed gun shop and gotten a gun,” Harmon said.

  “After a waiting period,” Carmen said quickly and the detective moved to another point, but he would eventually circle back to the same point.

  “Why didn’t you get it at a licensed gun shop?”

  That, coupled with the way Harmon said, ‘go to Paris with your friend,’ made Carmen believe that the detective didn’t believe that she was the one who shot Kenneth Castellano.

  As Max arrived at Abbate Construction, Carmen wondered if maybe the cook or the waitress told him that it was Jada that actually pulled the trigger.

  Yeah, a lot more complicated than I thought it would be, Carmen thought as she got out of the car.

  While Max waited in the car, Carmen went inside of the building and told the receptionist that she was Carmen Taylor with Channel Four News and that she would like to speak with Frank Abbate.

  The receptionist politely asked Carmen to have a seat while she checked on Mr. Abbate’s availability. She had been sitting in the lobby for fifteen minutes or so when a man walked through the door.

  “Walter Bonner to see Frank Abbate.”

  The receptionist checked her list and then she looked up at Bonner. Carmen observed the way her facial expression changed. “You can go right in, Mr. Bonner.”

  It was less than five minutes later when the two men came out of the office. Bonner turned to Abbate, pointed in his face and said something that, even though she was sitting less than ten feet away, Carmen couldn’t hear.

  When he turned quickly to leave the office was when he first saw Carmen. Bonner stopped, looked at her and then he glanced back at Abbate before he left.

  “I have Carmen Taylor with Channel Four News here to see you, Mr. Abbate,” the receptionist said, and an angry look washed across his face.

  Carmen stood up and was about to approach Abbate when he stepped quickly to Carmen.

  “I’ve already talked to the police and I have nothing to say to you, Ms. Taylor. So if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work.” And then he spun around and went back in his office, slamming the door behind him.

  The receptionist and Carmen exchanged puzzled looks, and then the receptionist shrugged her shoulders.

  “Have a good day, Ms. Taylor.”

  When Carmen turned to leave, she bumped into someone and looking up. She found it to be a man that didn’t seem to be in the lobby a moment ago.

  “Excuse me,” the man said.

  “Totally my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going,” Carmen said and left the office.

  She went outside and got back in the car with Max, and proceeded to explain that Abbate wouldn’t speak to her. She then told him about the man who was there and the reaction everyone had to him. It was then that she was startled by a man knocking at her window. It was the man that she had bumped into in the lobby. Carmen let down her window enough to ask the man what he wanted.

  “I don’t have much time. My name is Calvin Simpson and if you want to know what Katana Jackson wanted to tell you, meet me in an hour at a place called Enzo's Palace,” he said and rushed away from the car before Carmen had a chance to say anything. Thinking it was strange, Max advised that they don’t go, but Carmen wasn’t hearing it.

  When Carmen and Max arrived at Enzo's Palace, they found that Enzo's Palace was a gentlemen’s club. Carmen looked at Max. “Really? A gentlemen’s club? Really?”

  “A gentlemen’s club,” Max smiled as they got out of the car and approached the place. “Really.”

  Remembering the detective’s warning, Carmen told Max to go in first and have a look around, and if he thought that it was safe to send her a text and she would come in.

  Max went inside, wandered around and got his eyes full before he took a seat at the bar, sent Carmen a text, and ordered a drink. Once Carmen came in and sat down, it wasn’t long before Simpson came and sat down with her. Max moved to a spot where he could watch her.

  As soon as he sat down at the table with Carmen, he slipped her a flash drive. “What’s this?”

  Just then, another man came to the table and slid into the booth next to Carmen.

  He looked directly into Simpson’s eyes. “Leave. Now.”

  Not having to be told twice, Simpson got up and very quickly went in the back of the club.

  With Simpson gone, the man turned to Carmen.

  “You need to give me the drive that Simpson gave you and back off the story.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t even know that man; he just came and sat down.”

  “Don’t fuck with me; just give me the flash drive he gave you.”

  “I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “That’s the way you wanna do it, fine,” he said and took out a gun. He pressed it in Carmen’s side. “Now get up,” he demanded and stood up.

  Carmen slid out of the booth and stood up. When she did, the man placed the gun at the small of Carmen’s back.

  “Walk, nice and slow. And don’t do anything stupid.”

  When he started to walk Carmen out at gunpoint, seemingly out of nowhere, a man approached them quickly.

  “Is there a problem here?” he asked, and Carmen’s heart skipped a beat when she looked at him.

  “Mind your business.”

  He grabbed the man’s arm and put a gun to his side.

  “I’m making it my business.” he took the gun and put it in his waist.

  Carmen looked up at the tall fine looking stranger and felt a mix of curiosity and ensnarement.

  Who is he? Was naturally her first thought.

 
; He surely was fine. At least six feet three inches tall, very well dressed, chocolate-brown skin, and those deep penetrating eyes, Carmen thought as she stared into them.

  “Now, let her go,” her bodyguard ordered, and Carmen could add a sexy voice to his list of pleasurable qualities. He looked at Carmen. “You can go now, Ms. Taylor.”

  “Huh?” Carmen asked still looking at him trying to come out of her daze.

  “You’re free to go now, Ms. Taylor. This man won’t bother you anymore.”

  Max took Carmen’s hand. “Come on, Carmen.”

  Carmen’s bodyguard watched as she and Max left Enzo's Palace, before he pushed the gun in his side a little harder.

  “Walk.”

  When Carmen got back to the station, she and Max, along with Dan Graves, her producer, went to see what was on the flash drive Simpson had given her.

  “It has two folders on it. One named east and the other named west,” Carmen said.

  “What’s in them?” Dan asked.

  Carmen clicked on the folder. “It has video files in it,” she laughed a little. “With what I’m guessing are dancer names on each one.”

  “Open one up, Carmen.” Max said quickly and Carmen smiled and shook her head.

  The videos are of black women. The women introduce themselves and then they dance while they undress. The videos end with an invitation barcode that can be printed or sent to a cell for free access to Enzo's Palace.

  “I’m gonna assume that they are just marketing,” Dan said and told Carmen to see what was in the other folder.

  “Yeah,” Max agreed. “See what those are.”

  “Perverts,” Carmen said and opened the folder. The files had the same names as the other one. “Looks like the same videos.”

  “Yeah, but there must be some difference. Otherwise, why have them in a separate folder,” Dan said. “I think we need to check it out,” he said and looked at Max.

  “I agree. Two people died over this. I think we owe it to them to watch them all,” Max said.

  “Perverts,” Carmen said and clicked on a video.

  The second video of each woman was the same as in the first video, except after they dance naked for a while; they masturbate and the video ends with a numeric code.

  “What do you think that code is for?” Carmen asked.

  “I don’t know. Could be anything. I wouldn’t even know where to begin listing the possibilities,” Dan said.

  “I think we need to watch them all again.”

  “Why, Max?” Carmen asked.

  “Now that we have the code, we watch carefully to see if there are any clues in the videos,” Max said and both Dan and Carmen looked at him.

  “You know, as stupid as it sounds, it may be worth a shot, Carmen,” Dan said.

  Carmen shook her head and stood up. “You boys have fun. I already have a lead.”

  “What’s that?” Dan asked.

  “All of the videos were made at a company called CTI,” Carmen said and left the room.

  When Max sat down at the computer, Dan sat down next to him. “Where do you want to start?” Max asked.

  “Does it matter?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Clothed head to toe in a flattering Stella McCartney lace inset dress, Christian Louboutin front-tie leather stilettos, John Hardy citrine & sterling silver beaded multi-strand necklace and a Saint Laurent clutch, Jada West was an alluring vision in orange.

  There was still a warrant for her arrest, so Jada was on her way to see her lawyer, Patrick Freeman. With Jada being unexpectedly in the city for a couple of days, he had invited her down to his office to discuss her case.

  Earlier that morning, she was awakened by a knock on the door when Fantasy told her that Rain had been shot the night before and a second attempt was made that morning.

  “Is Rain all right?” Jada asked as she got out of bed and put on her robe.

  “Honestly, Jada, I don’t know for sure,” Fantasy said and followed Jada into the living room. “All I was able to find out is that Mr. Garrison was there when the shooting took place,” Fantasy informed Jada.

  “I see. Was Mr. Garrison hurt?”

  “No.” Fantasy paused. “At least he didn’t appear to be. I saw him at J.R.’s after it happened, but I was unable to speak with him.”

  “Any particular reason why?” Jada sat down on the couch, crossed her legs and smoothed out her robe.

  “He was there to pick up Mileena. My understanding was that he was concerned about her safety, so his attention was focused squarely on her.”

  “I see,” Jada said.

  That didn’t stop Fantasy from watching him, enjoying the way his body moved, from the moment he walked in J.R.’s. She observed the way his dark eyes seemed to brighten at the sight of Mileena, the way those eyes devoured every inch of her. Fantasy looked on, almost in envy, as Carter put his strong arm around Mileena and escorted her out of J.R.’s.

  The entire time he was there, Carter never even glanced in her direction. Even when she purposely positioned herself by the exit so he would have to make eye contact with Fantasy and acknowledge her, he didn’t.

  But Mileena did. She looked right at Fantasy as they passed on their way out of J.R.’s.

  “That isn’t all,” Fantasy said.

  “What else?”

  “There was a shooting at Conversations last night as well. Four people are dead.”

  “What is going on?” Jada wanted to know. It was the same question that everybody had. “Do you know if Jackie or Mr. Arcus were hurt?”

  “I’m sorry, Jada, I don’t know that either.” Fantasy stood up. “But I promise to find out for you.”

  “I’m sure that you will.” She stood up and looked at Fantasy.

  Although she wasn’t at all interested in being involved when Black originally approached her about working with Fantasy, in the time that they been together, Jada had come to like her. Fantasy had taken to her methods better and faster than anyone had before her.

  Of course, Fantasy didn’t have that cumbersome burden of having to work on her back with her legs in the air, but she had already mastered that skill years ago. Now, she was proving that she was a reliable operative, whose mission this time was to gather information for her boss.

  “I have a couple of appointments this afternoon, but I will be back here later.”

  “I will do my best to have answers to your questions when you return,” Fantasy promised Jada and rushed off to shower and change.

  Once Jada was ready, Mr. Nesmith escorted her to the limousine for the trip to see her lawyer. Along the way, the situation with Carmen was uppermost on her mind. After speaking with Fantasy, Jada had tried to call Carmen, but got no answer.

  A moment later, she received a text from Carmen informing her that she was, once again, at the precinct waiting to be interviewed by Detective Harmon. It reinforced her resolve not to let Carmen take the weight for something that she did.

  As she arrived at the offices of Wanda Moore and Associates, Jada considered whether she should seek Patrick’s advice on the matter. But as she rode up in the elevator, she decided to deal with the issue at hand first and discuss the matter with him should the conversation become appropriate and necessary.

  The matter at hand was that Jada had been arrested years ago and charged with several violations of the New York Penal Law, including promoting and compelling prostitution, both of which are class B felonies and were punishable by up to twenty-five years in prison.

  “Or you could cooperate with us and not be charged at all.” That was the offer that Lieutenant Gineconna made Jada that day.

  To which she replied, “You want me to snitch, don’t you?”

  Jada chose not to become Lieutenant Gineconna’s snitch and fled the country several days later. At that time, a warrant was issued for her arrest.

  “Since you’re going to be in the city for a while, I can work on speeding up the timetable to get before a judge to get
the warrant dismissed.”

  “Is that possible on such short notice?”

  “It’s going to take some work, for sure, and if you can be a bit more flexible about the date, we might be able to get this done.”

  “As you know, Mr. Freeman, I had planned to be in Paris for a while, and since it seems like that’s not going to work out, I suddenly find myself with free time on my hands,” Jada said.

  “Great,” Patrick said excitedly and began shuffling the papers on his desk until he found the one he was looking for. “If you could give me three or four weeks, I’m sure we can get this done, Ms. West.”

  “That sounds excellent, Mr. Freeman.”

  “So I can count on you to be in the city for that long?”

  “Can you assure me that I won’t be arrested and carted off to jail?” Jada asked.

  Her one and only time in jail, however brief, was enough for her to know that she was never going back. However, it did give Jada an understanding of why her mother, Vivian, didn’t want her to visit while she was in jail, and absolutely refused to talk about the experience.

  I don’t know how you stood it for all those years, Jada told Vivian on more than one occasion.

  “I think that I can assure you that you will not be arrested while we get on a sympathetic judge’s calendar.”

  “If you can make me that assurance, I promise to behave and not skip the country.”

  “That will give me enough time to set some things in motion,” Patrick said.

  “Are you referring to the items that we previously discussed?” Jada asked.

  “In part,” Patrick said. “One of those items has been taken care of with the help of Lieutenant Cavanaugh, who by the way, is now working at One Penn Plaza in the Commissioner’s office.” Cavanaugh had been on Mike Black’s payroll for years.

  “Really, how so?”

  “Lieutenant Gineconna has been promoted to Captain and transferred to a precinct in Staten Island with heavy mob activity.” Patrick leaned back in his chair. “So he has his hands full.”