4
"Are you really Wade Tyson? The new owner of the network. Why don't you tell me what your job is going to be?" Her smile beamed at him.
Don't fall for the big butt, sultry voice and a beautiful smile, Wade's mind warned him. It's a dangerous combination. He took a moment to deal with his reaction, and the crap she was about to give him. Wade glanced at his watch then gave her an exasperated look. "The secret undercover assignment and please don't make me say it again, because it sounds ridiculous."
Rachel looked out the passenger window attempting to get her reaction to this man who was her boss under control. Yes, she was stalling, trying to determine if she could trust him with the story or would he take it from her and give it to Lisa or if the possibilities of where the story may go would scare him.
"Tell me a secret about you."
"What's with the secrets?"
“Look." She turned to directly face him. "I don't know you. Other than you have a nice car, your last name is Tyson and you have delicious looking lips, trust has not been established. So, tell me a secret and keep in mind I have an internal bullshit detector."
The look in her eyes indicated she was serious and he did believe she could detect bullshit a mile away. He looked at their surroundings as he thought.
"A secret, huh."
"Yes, a secret."
He sighed. "Okay. My biological father is a mass murderer."
Rachel pulled back and frowned at him trying to determine if he was lying or not. "Seriously?"
Wade didn't answer. He turned to her and simply stared with a raised eyebrow.
"And your mother?"
"Serving a life sentence with him."
"No shit?"
"No shit. Now, what's your secret undercover assignment?"
She stared at him a moment longer, then sat forward. "Okay, I'm going to tell you what I know. Just one thing before I do. When we sleep together, and make no mistake, we will be doing the wild thing, with all this sexual tension happening up in here, but when we do, I don't want to wake up one morning and see Jason standing over me. Are we clear?"
Wade could not believe what he had just heard. "You realize I'm your boss?"
"Well, technically you are my boss' boss, if you plan to leave Jerry in place, but yeah, I got that. And none of that means a thing when it comes to sex." She waved her hand around. "With you looking like all of that and some more and me with..." she threw her hands up, "well, with all of this, it's bound to happen. Now stop looking at my lips and concentrate."
Wade wanted to laugh, for her words were exactly what was roaming through his mind. He was staring at the movement of her lips, which appeared to be luscious and silky smooth. However, as her boss he needed to keep a professional distance. So, he nodded. "What are you working on?"
"A few months ago my friend Nisey came to me with this story about her cousin. Well, I know Nisey and most of her cousins. So when she said one had been arrested, I stopped listening until she was half way through her story." She glanced out the window, adjusted in her seat, then turned to face him and continued.
"According to Nisey her cousin had been sentenced to 12 months in jail and a $2500 fine for stealing-not stealing prescription drugs."
"What was the drug and how much did he take?"
"Don't interrupt the story. You'll have a chance to ask questions at the end. So do you want to hear this story or what?"
“Sorry." Wade started the car as she talked. Music played low in the background as she continued.
"The prescription was his mother's and it cost $36 which she had paid online. All Chad had to do was pick the order up. There was a problem with the store’s computer system and when Chad walked out the door, the alarm sounded. A code scanned into the prescription label indicates when it has been cleared at the pharmacy register. If it has not been scanned or the scanner does not pick up on that label an alarm will go off when walking out the front door. For whatever reason, the prescription was not scanned at the back counter."
"Which was the pharmacy clerk’s responsibility," Wade offered.
"You going to let me tell this story or what?"
Wade threw his hands up, then turned facing her and sat back. "Sorry."
Rachel sighed then continued. "But yes, you are right. It was the clerk's responsibility to scan the prescription. However, the manager of the store insisted on filing charges against the boy for stealing drugs. The officer hesitated, but had no choice but to arrest Chad. The officer told the mother to bring the receipt to court, show it to the judge and it should all go away. Well, the only thing that went away was Chad. Judge Paula Reid did not see the incident as a computer error, stating the mother could have falsified the document. Even if that was the case, the boy should have been given probation or a warning. Something just did not sit right with the story." She shrugged her shoulders. "Hey, I'm a fact finder, so instead of taking Nisey's word for what had happened, I did a little investigation. I started with the mother. She did place the order online and paid for it with her debit card. The bank records show the payment at the time and date of the purchase. I even had a friend of mine go into her computer to make sure it wasn't tampered with in any way. It wasn't. "
"So the kid was innocent," Wade stated only to receive a glare. "Will you get to the story?"
"I'm trying to if you will stop interrupting me. Anyway, the next thing I did was check the kid, Chad, out. He wasn't one of Nisey’s crazy cousins. He was legit all the way. Good grades in school, college bound, never arrested, all around decent kid. So why give a kid like that, first offense, a year. Even if he was guilty, like I said it should have been probation at most. Thinking, I must have missed something, I took the facts and presented them to one of the most brilliant legal minds in the country. According to him, the case should have been thrown out. Now, I'm really curious and a little pissed. This kid’s life has been ruined and he did nothing wrong. So I went to Judge Reid, asked her about the case." She pointed an angry finger at him. "Do you know what that heifer said to me? Her response was and I quote. 'My rulings are not to be questioned. I preside over hundreds of cases dealing with these brown boys ruining good people’s lives. Now get the hell out of my office.' Well, you know I'm more than a little pissed at that point." Rachel gave him a side eye glance. "So I checked her history." She leaned towards him. "Judge Reid has presided over 672 cases in the last 5 years. Her first three years she averaged about 75 convictions a year. Her sentencing record was reasonable. Some a little stricter than others but nothing out of the ordinary. In the last two years, she has sentenced over 400 cases. Of the 400 cases, 173 of them were young white males and females, with a variety of offenses. The remaining 273 cases were African-American or Latino descent males and females. Now the girls were sentenced along the mid to high range minimums. However, the 202 brown males have all received the maximum time in jail and fines. Here's another fact, those males were all sent to Centerville Maximum Security Center or Peace Reliance Correctional Facility. Both are privately owned. So you’d think that’s enough of the story, but it's not. To be fair, I checked all the records of the judges assigned to that court. There are two other judges with a marked increase in closed cases who also turned to harsher sentencing for brown males. Now, my focus is on the three judges instead of just the one. Word has it that one of Nisey's cousins has a friend who just got out from a sentence imposed by Judge Reid during the first year of the change in her sentencing patterns."
Wade listened intently. "What do you think he will tell you?"
"I don't know, but my gut tells me there is something big going on here."
"Have you checked financial records?"
"No. Whose financial records would I check?"
"Well, my first question is always who benefits?" He glanced out of the front windshield. "It usually comes down to money, power or love. So ask yourself. Who benefits from brown males being off the street? And how? I would start with the bank accounts of the three judges. Has there been any fluctuation of deposits or purchases? Have their buying habits changed? What about friends? Who are they hanging out with these days? When you follow the money trail things begin to come to light." He looked back at her. "And why just those two facilities? Virginia has a prison facility on just about every corner it seems. So why are the brown boys being sent to only those two facilities? In private facilities, they make money off of the number of prisoners assigned there. What are those facilities making off of each of the boys? Who owns those facilities? Are they connected to each other in any way? If money is not a motivating factor, could it be, the judges in question do not feel that brown boys can be rehabilitated only white boys can? With the court system in the hands of a questionable administration like we have today, is it possible something deeper is happening here?"
"You get it.” Rachel reached over, cupped his face between her hands, kissed him squarely on his lips then sat back and continued. "So you see there is a story here, right?"
The kiss shocked him, but it didn't seem to faze her. Maybe it was just the excitement of him understanding her premise for the story. He cleared his throat.
"There are a number of questions that need to be answered that’s for sure. If we have corrupt judges in our midst, there is no justice for anyone." He nodded then looked up at her. "You look surprised."
"I am. I usually have to take Jerry through it several times pointing out the obvious along the way." She paused. "Hey, I know that song." She stopped midstream in her story and started singing, 'Betcha by golly wow, you're the one that I've been waiting for....'
"Forever," Wade joined in as they sang together.
Rachel stopped singing towards the end and listened to his voice hit note after note as he finished the song.
"Tell me there is a voice behind that pretty face," she laughed. "Somebody did a great remake of Prince's song."
"No," he chuckled while looking through the side mirror for oncoming traffic, then pulling off. "Where are we going to meet your informant?"
"What do you mean we? And I'll have you know I know every Prince song there is and he did this song." She added a huff and gave him a sideways look.
Wade smiled. "I don't doubt you at all, however, the original version of this song was titled Keep Growing Strong and it was recorded in 1970 by Connie Stevens. It did not really pick up speed until 1972 when a group called The Stylistics out of Philly recorded it and changed the name to Betcha by Golly Wow. Prince re-recorded it in 1996 on the Emancipation album. And by the way, I fly from one topic to the next just like you. When I say we, I mean we, you and I, together, are going to talk to your informant. If this case involves judges, we both may be seeing the inside of a jail cell before this is all over with."
Rachel smiled. "You’re going down with the ship?" She nodded. "I like it, but he's not going to talk to you," Rachel changed the subject, again. "So you are a music history buff?"
"I dabble here and there," he said as he stopped at a red light and turned to her. "He talks to both of us together, or he talks to neither of us." He raised an eyebrow. "So, what's it going to be?"
Racheal held his glare. "You are pushy, do you know that? Make a left turn on Broad Street."
"That's the only way to get to the truth that no one wants you to know," he replied. The light turned green and he followed her directions.
"You could make a serious living off that voice," Rachel said as she sat back with a huff.
Wade glanced at her with a grin. "Flattery will not change my mind." He turned back to the road.
"No flattery, just good old honest truth. You have an amazing voice."
"Not really," Wade coyly replied. "Shower sing..........." He had begun as he glanced her way. He never finished his sentence.
The impact from the collision turned the vehicle they were in 360 degrees. It skidded across the median strip into oncoming traffic. Cars swerved with horns blaring to keep from hitting them. The vehicle did not stop until the rear end hit a light pole.
Voices inside the vehicle were silent as the music continued to play. Airbags were deployed, smoke from the engine was seeping from the tangled metal. The truck, that hit them, stopped long enough to ensure there was no movement inside the vehicle, then pulled off as motorists emerged from their vehicles to help the couple inside the now mangled Mercedes.