| |
“She’s on the office terrace doing her eval of the day’s meal,” Ellia’s assistant told Fray when he arrived in the hotel’s administrative wing that morning.
“If you hurry, you can catch her before she heads out on her walk,” Theodora Poole advised her boss’ guest.
Fray hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “You’re sure it’s alright to go on back?”
“It’s fine,” Theodora waved. “She’s got an open door policy in the mornings.”
Fray wasn’t so sure El’s policy pertained to the likes of him, but he headed back at any rate. Despite his unease, he couldn’t help but to appreciate the hotel’s 21st century efficiency that complimented its century’s old beauty.
Cream marble finishes enhanced the rounded edges of the desks and bannisters. Furniture was plush suede and ran to soothing earth tones that whispered elegance and tradition. Those tones were offset by thick, dark carpeting and the array of mammoth chandeliers that captured the soft violet, burgundy and caramel hues then spewed in a colorful shimmery array.
The floors along the administrative wing were dark pine buffed to a high shine. Tan, rectangular rugs ran the length of the long corridors and left thin splices of the pine flooring visible on either side.
The establishment honored the essence of warmth and hominess even as it beamed status and grace. Fray found Ellia beyond two exceptionally tall thin doors of the same glossy pinewood as the floors.
He hesitated at the entrance of the deck. Beyond it, lay a spectacular ocean view with the Exodus boardwalk in the foreground. The breeze carried the scent of her perfume and he recognized the fragrance from his visit the day before. It wafted lighter that day. Before, it had carried with it the weightiness of her fear. He had enjoyed the scent both times and in equal measure.
The breeze carried in Ellia’s laughter then as she wrapped up the conversation she was having about the day’s menu. When she disconnected from the call, Fray took an additional few moments to smile in appreciation of her laughter. He watched her settle back into relaxation against a white wooden Adirondack chair. White cushions lined the seat and El’s loose hair appeared as a dark, elusive cloud being tossed by the breeze.
Fray was reluctant to interrupt her, but did so by clearing his throat softly and adding an even softer knock to the doorframe.
Ellia tuned into the sound easily enough, still wearing her inviting smile. The gesture vanished when she saw Fray and she straightened from her recline on the lounge.
She didn’t bolt or make a grab for the knife sheathed at her feet. Fray considered that a small step forward. He didn’t approach her, merely raised a calming hand.
“Ted said it was alright to come on back.”
El relaxed fractionally, although she appeared to be grudgingly acknowledging the truth in Frayzer’s words.
Fray read the look easily and wondered whether anyone else would have picked up on it. Her expressions were hard to decipher when she intentionally kept her features cool and relaxed. El offered a faint nod after a moment and he could feel the fist about his heart loosen another centimeter.
“About yesterday, Elli I-” he took a moment, not wanting to say the wrong thing but understanding the words needed to be said.
“For coming here the way I did yesterday. Leading with talk about business. For that, I’m sorry. We do need to discuss it, but it’s the very last thing I should have said to you first.” He gave a nod as if some feat had been accomplished with the statement and then continued.
“One of the first things I should’ve done was to give you my condolences about your dad. I was sorry to hear he passed.”
The reality of that loss was still upsetting, but she acknowledged his gesture with a quiet smile. “Thank you,” the words hung like gossamer lifted by breeze for a few moments longer and then curiosity was narrowing her eyes.
“Is there trouble? With your business?”
“Yeah um,” a darkness sharpened his fierce looks as though he was none too certain of continuing. “Russ, Jock, Scofield and Keene,” he said his cousins’ names and watched El bristle at the sounds. “We may finally be able to get rid of them for good.”
The slightest of frowns tugged the long brows that made her stunning eyes more expressive. “Finally? You...want them out?”
“I’ve always wanted them out.”
“They’re your family.”
“Zy and War are my family. I’d just as soon kill the others as to look at them. Thank God for small favors. They run things from Atlanta. I work with Zy and War in Ohio.”
El knew that much. Every now and then Bin let little tidbits of information drop. The woman would then apologize to Ellia as if to convince her that she hadn’t meant to do it on purpose.
“What I should’ve come here with was an apology for sixteen years ago, Elli.” He saw the fear return to her face then. He didn’t let that stop him.
“I should’ve come with many apologies and even that wouldn’t be enough.” He risked a step closer. “I’ll never forget it Elli, never forget what I did to us- to you. I just needed you to know that.”
He watched her for a few additional, silent moments as if making a mental replica of her face then.
“I already made a real appointment with Ted,” he smiled and retreated the step he’d taken. “So I’ll see you then. Thanks for listening to me, El.” Deciding it was best not to give her the chance to conjure an excuse not to keep the meeting, he turned and left her.
***
“So you’re saying someone in your ranks can’t keep their mouth shut?”
“We’re sure it’s just some fool blowin’ smoke.” Scofield chimed in easily, though he shared distinctly uneasy looks with his brother and cousins while they spoke with their contact via speaker phone.
“Nobody would be stupid enough to go against us,” Scofield added, rearing back in the chair he’d taken before Russ’ desk.
There was laughter following the boast before the man on speaker replied. “I’ve met the others... Frayzer, Zyon, Warwick...no way in hell someone should be stupid enough to go up against them but here we are...The fact that you’ve got your hands on that list proves it.”
“We pride ourselves on not keeping moles on the payroll,” Jock said. “We can’t help it if our brothers and cousins are stupid enough to.”
“Perhaps this mole isn’t on the payroll anymore,” the voice on the speaker box said. “Are you four so sure that someone you pissed off hasn’t grown a pair and finally decided on a little payback? Knowing you all as well as I do, I can’t believe the list of folks you’ve double crossed and pissed off isn’t a long one.”
Silence met the accusation.
“Fix this. Before my people have to.”
The call disconnected and was followed, after brief silence, by Keene’s snarled curse.
“Son of a bitch!” Keene raged at the dead speaker box. “I told you we never should’ve pulled outsiders in on this.”
“You didn’t seem to mind it too much when all the business we were bringing in required outside help to manage it,” Russ darkly reminded his younger brother. “As I recall, you were too busy salivating over all the undeclared income we were putting away.”
“Go screw yourself Russ,” Keene muttered. “You know I voiced concerns back then about having outsiders taking part in our business- white ones at that.”
“Here we go,” Scofield sighed.
“Our ancestors would be rolling in their graves if they knew we had so many whites prying into our business. Especially this part of our business,” Keene spat, unmindful of the criticism.
“Key? Who exactly did you think we’d be doing business with?” Russ asked, his tilted dark stare holding as much curiosity as it did agitation. “No one sees the kinds of profits we have without welcoming customers from all colors of the rainbow.”
“Guys? Can we save the UN debate for another time?” Jock raised a cautionary hand. “We’ve got a serious problem here and our...outsider posed a good point. Maybe our mole isn’t on the payroll anymore.”
Russ frowned. “What are you saying?”
Jock left the chair he’d taken before Russ’ desk. “Maybe it’s time we look up some former co-workers.”
Scofield grunted laughter. “That’s quite a long list.”
“Not so long when you factor in the ones who know the most,” Keene reasoned.
Only the faint clink of brandy snifter to glass table punctuated the then silent air as the men drew into their thoughts.
“I’d say that narrows our list considerably,” Keene went on. “But that still leaves quite a few interesting parties.”
“Lucky for us they won’t all be hard to find.”
“And when we find them?” Jock queried Russ’ response.
Appearing a picture of ease then, Russ rested his elbows to the cushioned arm of the navy suede desk chair and raised his hands to observe them.
“There’s a high probability the others have already reached this conclusion,” Scofield noted amid Russ’ silence.
“So that means we’ll need to reach out to our ‘interesting possibilities’ before anyone else does,” Keene decided.
“And then what?” Jock persisted in his question. His round, dark eyes were fixed on his cousin as if to compel the man to answer.
Russ was only compelled to return the stare. It was enough for the others to understand their ultimate course of action.
***
He was pretty certain that he hadn’t taken a breath until he was turning into the U-shaped drive of his uncle’s home. Frayzer parked and shut down the Suburban’s engine, but he made no move to leave the SUV. He wasn’t sure his legs would be willing to carry him to the front door if he made the effort. Much as he’d been; when he saw her in her office the evening before, Fray found that his muscles seemed incapable of support. Such was the state to which she had subjected him.
Cursing then, Fray thought back over his grand plan to force a heated reaction from her. She was still the only girl-woman capable of rendering him incapable and God how he’d missed her ability to do that.
He stood there in her door, all but shaking in his shoes, feeling like the clueless kid he’d been the last time he saw her. She sat there as cool as the day surrounding her. She could’ve asked him for anything and he would have walked through hell to get it for her.
A grin crossed his mind over the idea, but its appearance was brief as thoughts rose of the reputations he and his cousins wielded. He, Zyon and Warwick made a point of conducting their business above board and with respect for their associates. Still, they knew they generated a fair amount of unease in most people.
It went beyond the physical, though they knew ‘the physical’ played heavily into the intimidation factor. That truth went triple for War, Fray mused.
The physical was only a part of it, of course. While fair-dealing, Fray and his closest cousins were known as a take-no-prisoners lot. They could, at times, be ruthless, but they never strong-armed associates into seeing things from their points of view. Besides, they knew all too well what it was to strong-arm. Never again, they’d all vowed.
Like that, his thoughts circled back to Ellia Taylor. At least he hadn’t frozen up so much in her presence that he hadn’t been able to get the apology out. One of many, he’d sworn to her. He’d told Binta that he couldn’t leave Ellia the way he’d found her. That wasn’t completely true. He couldn’t leave her at all. Getting her to lash out at him would be one thing. Getting her to forgive him- to take him back- that would be a whole other impossible thing entirely.
The grin returned to Fray’s mouth when he saw a stout, dark man standing before the Suburban’s hood. The top of the man’s head was a cap of snowy white. He made Fray’s grin look like a smirk next to his broad, toothy one.
Laughing then, Fray left the truck, arms outstretched as he met Broderick Guthrie II for a smothering hug. Though he now outmatched his grand-uncle’s height by over a foot, Fray didn’t think he’d ever be able to see the man as anything other than the larger than life character with the booming voice and crushing hugs.
Broderick pulled back from the hearty embrace he shared with his nephew, but kept his hands firm on Fray’s arms. “Lord Boy, you still growin’?!”
Laughter had but a moment to tickle Fray’s throat before he unleashed it. “I’m a pygmy compared to War!”
Broderick grunted heartily. “Hell kid, ain’t we all?”
Uncle and nephew shared more laughter and then Brod was giving Fray’s shoulder another hearty clap. “Come on, everybody’s waiting.”
~~~
Lincoln Noble sat with his fingers laced and resting atop an enormous beer gut respectfully concealed beneath a tailored paisley print vest. The men met on Brod Guthrie’s screened back porch.
“So you, Zy and War believe the shit’s about to hit, huh?”
“Feels like this threat’s got teeth,” Fray nodded.
“Any theories on where it’s coming from?” Thaddeus Hammond was asking.
“Tons of theories, Uncle Thad,” Fray winced a bit. “‘Scuse me for saying Sir, but...your sons have a lot of enemies. It’d be hard to pinpoint the best place to start looking.” He could see the toll the truth took on the man as he absorbed it.
“I know my sons are lost,” Thad said of Russ and Keene. “Trouble is, I’ve got no one to blame.”
“Sir, my father-”
“No son,” Thad waved off Fray’s logic. “There’s no denying what a horror your father was.” It was Thad’s turn to wince as he looked toward the uncle of the man in question. “Begging your pardon, Brod,” he accepted the man’s nod with a grimace. “I know my boys well enough to know they walked into all they did with their eyes wide open.”
Fray looked out over the backyard, an oasis of hanging moss trees that flooded the area with vast spots of shade. The landscape ended at the cliffs that lined the southern ridge of the island and appeared as haunted as it was alluring.
“Bin thought we were all blameless kids, made to follow the whim of a grown fool.”
“I’d say my aunt has a point Fray,” Thad shrugged while turning a sweating beer can in his hands. “At least where you, Zy and War are concerned. Russ and Keene...they lived for Bron- jumped every time the phone rang thinking it was him and grinned like hyenas when they found out it was.”
Lincoln Noble sat nodding. “Same was true for my boys,” he spoke of Jock and Scofield. “Bron was a hard man for a grown man to hold off so...I imagine there was a healthy foundation of fear at the heart of it. But there’s a ‘run for your life’ fear and then there’s a giddy kind that makes you feel alive. That’s what drove your cousins to the madness they carried out in your father’s name.”
“I don’t care whether they were giddy or terrified Uncle Linc,” Fray’s voice and features were like stone. “I want them gone, ruined, stripped of whatever gives them this sense of superiority and the way they’ve used it. We’re desperate now, I can admit that. Me, Zy and War we’ve worked for almost fifteen years to beat them the right way. We did it because we didn’t want to be like them, even though we’re each more than capable of it.” He closed his eyes, kept them so for a time before working himself up to speak again.
“We run our half of the business above board because there’re times when we’re this close to crossing the line.” He made the customary spacing gesture with thumb and forefinger. “This is our last shot at playing above board. We’re losing interest in being the good guys.”
An image of Ellia crossed Fray’s mind then and pushed him to leave his chair in the midst of the elders. “We don’t want to lose ourselves to that. I don’t know if I’d come back from it. If we don’t take this last shot-take it and make it work- I’m afraid we’ll have to fight on their side of the line.”
“What’s your plan, boy?” Broderick asked.
Fray turned back to his family. “To get enough of you to give us your proxy to vote them out.”
“You think they don’t already know that’s coming?” Broderick questioned further.
Fray shook his head. “If they don’t, they will soon enough. We all know how fast word carries out here.”
Brod gave a sharp, satisfied nod. “My point exactly. Your cousins have a lot of supporters here- ones who don’t mind resorting to certain...old school tactics to push their agendas forward.”
“Brod’s right, Fray,” Thad stood then. “Everyone on the island owns company stock and you’re gonna need over fifty percent support to send those boys on their way. If their supporters start playing dirty, how far do you think you’ll get?”
Fray folded his arms and leaned against one of the wooden slats supporting the porch screen. “What do you suggest?”
“A back up plan,” Brod chimed in. “If yours doesn’t work, you’ll need to jump on something else fast. You’ll need the way this mystery list writer has already uncovered.”
“We’ve tried.” Frustration enhanced the raspy quality of Fray’s voice as he began to prowl the wide porch. “We’ve been trying to get something concrete on them for years.”
“Maybe you’re looking in the wrong place.” Lincoln Noble’s voice was like a calm spot among raging waves.
Intrigued by the man’s manner, Fray reclaimed his seat. “Can I take that to mean you’ve got a plan of your own?”
Linc Noble shared a cunning look with his old friends before looking to the younger man who joined them. “I just might,” he said.