“That’s cool, but you still need to know who hit your spot, right?”
“Right.”
“So let me help you.”
“Why, you got somebody else you need to kill?”
“Fair question. But no. I handled all the family business tonight.”
I pulled up in front of her father’s spot and put the car in park. I took out a pen and wrote down my cell number. “If you hear anything that I can use, call me.”
“I will, you can count on that.” Rain got out of the car and leaned in the window. “I might call you; even if I don’t have nothin’ but some sweet talk for you.”
Rain walked away from the car and I watched her swing that big ass until she went in the club. I thought for a second about having more than a drink with her. Then I put the car in drive and drove away.
I might have told her no, but part of me wanted to. Like I said, I was startin’ to like Rain. I respected the way she saw what needed to be done and took care of it. There was a time when I might have done the same thing and worried about the truth later.
Chapter 19
Mike Black
I looked at Maria as she slept. She seemed to have a smile on her face and I wondered if she was dreaming, and if she was, was she dreaming about me.
When I do dream it’s always about Cassandra. Truth is I think about her all the time. It doesn’t matter where I am, who I’m with, or what I’m doin’, I can’t get her off my mind. I think about what my life would be like if she were still apart of it. I think about the sound of that sexy voice of hers dancing in my ear. I think about how her eyes seemed to come alive when she saw me. I think about how at every step I made decisions that led to her death.
I thought about my own nightmares. I don’t have them as much as I used to, but every once and awhile I do. It always begins different, but it always ends the same way. I’ll be dreaming about being with Cassandra, and we’ll end up back at our house. No matter what I do to try and stop him, Kip Bartowski, the man who beat and murdered Cassandra, kills her again. Then I wake up in a cold sweat. It reminds me that everybody who was involved in her murder isn’t dead.
But not tonight.
Tonight my mind wasn’t on Cassandra. Tonight my mind was on CeCe.
I got out of bed and walked toward the window. I thought about our last conversation. She said Cash knew Mylo by his real name. Cassandra had a friend named Juanita that worked for the DEA in Washington.
I had her do a little digging and she found out that Clint Harris was a DEA agent and Kenneth DeFrancisco was his last supervisor. The way she got it was that after DeFrancisco went to jail, the agency lost track of agent Harris until they found him dead at his house in Philly. Fortunately for me, they had no idea what he was working on or I would probably be in jail for his murder.
But that started me thinking about how long these bastards been on me, how deep they had infiltrated my house. It made me realize there was more to this than just DeFrancisco ordering Cassandra’s murder and me being framed for it; that’s just how it ended up. This was all part of Diego Estaban’s plan for me.
Now maybe I’m paranoid, but I wondered just how deep this plan was? Killing Diego didn’t stop it. DeFrancisco going to jail didn’t stop it. He still had Cassandra killed. I thought killing DeFrancisco would put an end to it, but suppose it doesn’t? Pete Vinnelli was still alive and pulling the strings.
The more I thought about it, the more the pieces fell into place. Mylo or Harris worked for DeFrancisco. DEA agent Masters worked for Vinnelli. Logically, he had to know about their plan to kill me and for Mylo to take over the Commissions drug markets. That meant that Vinnelli had his hand in it.
I had to know.
In spite of my promise to Angelo that I would let it go; I had to know. I had to know what their plans were, and try to get a feel for what else they may have in store for me. This was a crucial time for us, making the move to go legit. I didn’t need this shit coming from nowhere to bit us in the ass. I had to be ready. I had to be a step ahead of them. I had to kill Vinnelli.
It was and still is the only way for Cassandra to rest in peace.
The next morning me, Bobby and Wanda met with the real estate broker, and then she had a meeting scheduled at her office with Meka Brazil, the investment banker that we’ve been dealing with. The meeting was to discuss with us the financing ideas, equity and bond issues.
At the meeting Meka recommended a very aggressive strategy for taking over some smaller companies, merging with others to form a larger company, and selling the company’s stock to the public. At this point, we had no plans to tell her how we made our money, but she’s smart, so if she hadn’t figured it out for herself, at some point she will.
Then Meka started talking about us buying or investing in an insurance company that was looking to use derivatives to reduce risk in its investment portfolio. “I don’t mean to sound stupid, but what are derivatives?” I asked Meka. I could tell that both Wanda and Bobby were glad that I asked ’cause neither of them had a clue what she was talking about.
“Derivatives are financial instruments whose value changes in response to the changes in underlying variables,” Meka answered without appearing to be annoyed by my question. “The main types of derivatives are futures, forwards, options, and swaps.”
“In English, please.”
“Derivatives can be based on different types of assets such as commodities, stocks, bonds, interest rates, exchange rates, or indexes. The main use of derivatives is to reduce risk for one party. The diverse range of potential underlying assets and pay-off alternatives leads to a huge range of derivative contracts available to be traded in the market. Their performance can determine both the amount and the timing of the pay-off.”