Beneath The Surface (27 page)

“Hey, Alphonso.”

He was surprised to see Rain and didn’t say anything. He just looked at Rain, and then back to the woman he was talking to. “Excuse me,” he said quickly, and grabbed Rain by the arm. He led her over to the bar.

“What you want?” Alphonso asked.

“What I want? Where you been? I thought something happened to you,” Rain said and realized that three of Alphonso’s boys were standing behind him.

“Yeah, well, you see I’m all right. So what you want?”

“This how you gonna do me?”

“I don’t know what you talkin’ ’bout.”

“A’ight, whatever. Just tell me what’s up with my money?”

“Truth is, I fucked you and beat you outta your dope. Now I’m done with you; so get the fuck out my face and don’t let me see you no more.”

“Mutha fucka, I’ll—”

“What you gonna do? Tell your daddy? Oh yeah, you can’t tell your daddy ’cause you don’t want him to know that his baby girl is rollin’. You ain’t gonna do shit. Now get the fuck outta here,” Alphonso said and put his hand in Rain’s face. He pushed her so hard that she fell over a table and hit the floor hard. By the time a few bystanders helped Rain to her feet, Alphonso was gone.

Every night after that, Rain was in the street looking for Alphonso. It was bad enough that he had robbed her, played her like a trick, but then he punked her in front of a crowd. It was almost a month later when somebody told her where they had seen Alphonso. Rain drove down the street slowly until she saw him standing on a corner with three other men, passing around a forty. She pulled up in front of him and rolled down her window.

“Hey, mutha fucka!” When Alphonso looked up, Rain raised her weapon and fired twice. Her first shot hit him in the shoulder, but the second shot hit him in the chest. The men he was with scattered as Alphonso fell to the ground. Rain got out of the car, stood over Alphonso, and put two more in his chest.

He was the first person she’d killed.

It gets easier,
Rain laughed. It was then that she realized that the car Walker jacked was nowhere in sight. Rain slowed down a little more and looked around as she drove. “There that mutha fucka go,” Rain said as she watched Walker go inside a bar. Rain drove around the corner and parked the car. She put the silencer on her gun and then went in after him.

Walker peeked out the window when he first went in the bar. He stayed there for a minute or two before heading for the bar. He needed a drink after that experience. He stepped up to the bar and waited for the bartender to get to him. “Dewers straight up. Make it a double,” Walker told the bartender. When the bartender returned with his drink, Walker paid him and drank it down. He was about to signal for another when he felt pressure in the small of his back.

“Now we gonna walk up outta here nice and quiet ’cause I don’t mind puttin’ a hole in your back,” Rain said and pushed her gun a little harder into Walker’s back.

Walker put down his glass and Rain walked him out of the bar without any problems. She kept the barrel to his back as they went down the street and around the corner into an alley.

Rain pushed Walker and he stumbled a little. Then Rain shot him in the leg. Walker went down. He screamed and grabbed his leg. Rain got in his face. “That’s for makin’ me run,” Rain yelled with her gun to Walker’s head. Rain stood up over Walker and then kicked him in the wound. Then she kicked him again. “Where the fuck is my money,” she said, returning the barrel to Walker’s temple.

“I ain’t got it!” Walker yelled through the pain.

“What the fuck you mean, you ain’t got it?” she asked and
punched him in the face.

“Dice didn’t give us but a little bit. Said we should lay low for a while then he’ll hit us off.”

“Damn.” Rain thought for a second. “Empty your pockets.”

“What?”

“You heard me, mutha fucka, turn out your pockets!”

“Come on now, you gotta leave me somethin’,” Walker pleaded.

“I ain’t gotta do shit.”

Walker pulled a wad of bills out of his pocket. Rain kicked him in the chest and Walker fell over. Rain picked up the money and held it up. “This look like ’bout three grand.”

Walker nodded his head.

“This all you
got,
nigga?”

Again, Walker nodded his head.

“Y’all some dumb-ass mutha fuckas,” Rain said and shot Walker three times in the head. She took the silencer off and put the gun away. She took out her cell and called Nick.

He answered on the first ring. “Where are you?”

“Don’t worry, baby. I got him. I’ll tell you ’bout it when I see you. Where you at?”

Despite the fact that she had reported their arrest, Carmen was convinced that Jack and Jeannette Winters did not murder Tangela House, and she was determined to prove it. She remembered what Detective Mitchell said: “I don’t believe in coincidences.
”
Tangela House had a picture and an article about Congressman Terrance Redding in her room; it was stuck to the mirror where she was sure to see it every day. Thaddeus Jones liked to watch women get strangled after sex and Redding is connected in some way to a woman who was strangled after sex; and they were old army buddies.

Congressman Terrance Redding is where Carmen would focus her attention. She spent the morning doing research, trying to find out everything there was to be known about him. His current committee assignments include agriculture, armed services, and homeland security.

According to GovTrack’s analysis of bill sponsorship, Redding is a moderate Republican. The top campaign contribution was $380,905 from employees of ActBlue, followed by Corning, Inc., Harris Corporation, and Honeywell International’s AmeriPAC: The Fund for a Greater America. According to his mandated financial disclosure statements, Terrance Redding’s net worth was between $10.8 and $17.9 million.

“Something else him and Thaddeus Jones have in common: money,” Carmen told Dan.

“Sounds like a respected member of the House of Representatives.”

“Sounds that way to me; so what would Tangela House be doing with an article about him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she was a political junky,” Dan said and Max laughed. “But I get your point.” Dan took a nervous breath. “Go slow on this, Carmen. I want you to keep me in the loop every step of the way on this.”

“You got it,” Carmen said excitedly, feeling like an investigative reporter.

“How are you going to go about it? I mean, you’re not planning on walking up to him and asking him if he murdered Tangela House, are you?”

“Of course not. Besides, if he was at the gallery that night we’d know about it by now,” Carmen said. “But that doesn’t mean that he didn’t send somebody to do the deed for him.”

“So what’s the plan?” Dan asked.

“The congressman is giving a speech this afternoon on the coal mining practice of mountaintop removal.”

“What’s that?” Max asked.

“It’s a technique that involves blasting off the tops of mountains and dumping the rubble into valleys and streams. I was thinking about riding out there to hear him, and maybe get an interview.”

With Dan’s blessing, Carmen and Max headed across the George Washington Bridge into New Jersey, in to Pennsylvania on I-80 West, and finally back in to New York on I-86 West to Corning.

The speech was to be held at the Radisson Hotel on Denison Parkway in Corning. When Max and Carmen arrived, a crowd protesting mountaintop removal and the use of coal as an energy source confronted them. After fighting through the crowd, Carmen and Max showed their press credentials and were admitted to the event.

“If we’re going to transition to a cleaner coal and the Federal government is going to invest in clean coal technology and carbon sequestration, obviously Western New York needs to be in the forefront on that,” Redding said to a gathering of businessmen and supporters.

“Coal is the fuel for the future. With the senate poised to consider a climate change bill, the usual talking points from environmental public-interest groups have begun to rear their ugly heads. They say that any movement to reduce CO2 emissions will mean the end of the use of coal to generate electricity. Nothing could be further from the truth. If anything, it means the need to increase investments in carbon capture and storage technology is even stronger than ever. Now, let’s be perfectly clear about the facts. Coal currently provides about 50 percent of America’s electricity. And the United States has more coal than any other fuel. A quarter of all the known coal in the entire world is here in America. In fact, we’ve got more coal than the entire Middle East has oil.

“This is where I think we’re missing the boat and why we are critical of the House bill. Their goal is to remove low-cost energy options like coal from the fuel mix. They can’t see that such a policy would not only increase energy costs and leave America more dependent on imported
energy,
it would also deter meeting the key goal of reducing greenhouse gas emissions on a global scale. That is just misguided and bad policy,” Redding said.

After the speech was over, Carmen tried to get the congressman to consent to an interview; but one of his aides held up his hand in Carmen’s face and said, “No interviews” and rushed Terrance Redding out of the room.

“What now?” Max asked.

“Let’s go to the library,” Carmen said excitedly.

At the library Carmen and Max read all the articles that the local paper had on mountaintop removal and investment in coal technologies.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Max asked.

“I don’t know. I’ll tell you when I find it,” Carmen replied and kept reading. Two hours later, she found what she was looking for. “I think I got something, Max.”

“What’s that?”

“This article is about a group of Middle Eastern businessmen that are investors in a clean coal project, and that Hammdee Yasir is involved with the group.”

“Who the hell is Hammdee Yasir?”

“When I was talking to the dancers at Lace—” Carmen began.

“And by the way, I still haven’t forgiven you for going to a strip club without me.”

“I told you, Max, I was fine in there.”

“It’s not your safety but me, a married man, getting to go to a strip club . . . on business.”

“Anyway, one of the dancers told me about a real scary lookin’ Arab guy; but he just too weird for her so she introduced him to Tangela House. She and a guy named TR were supposed to have scammed outta
a lotta
money from him. His name was Hammdee Yasir.”

“We have a connection,” Max said. “I think we need to go back to Lace and see where we can find this guy.”

“I already know. He likes to gamble in Atlantic City.”

“Oh,” Max said and looked very disappointed.

Before Carmen and Max made their way back to the city, they decided to get something to eat. Max had noticed a restaurant in the hotel where Terrance Redding spoke earlier that day.

They were halfway through their meal at Grill 1-2-5, when Max saw a familiar face go in the Steuben Bar and sit down. “Isn’t that one of the congressman’s aides?”

“Where?”

“At the bar—dark gray suit.”