What Lies Within (28 page)

Tarik turned back to look at the church. “Can’t you let this one go? These people are good, Jamal. They just want to help.”

No answer, but then Tarik hadn’t really expected one. He knew the fine line his brother walked. Knew it angered some of the Brotherhood that Tarik wasn’t a member. Made no sense to them that the leader’s little brother wasn’t connected. Only the OGs understood.

They didn’t want their kid brothers or sisters involved in gangs either.

Fortunately, those who might grumble knew better than to question King about Tarik. You challenged King K and you got a full dose of wrath. No one was willing to risk that. So they let it go. For now. But one mistake on King’s part, one sign of weakness …

“This will happen.”

Tarik looked up at the night sky. What was it like to live someplace where you could see the stars? Where the streetlights didn’t obliterate them? “I know, brother.”

“You stand on the wrong side when the judgment comes, you go down with them.” Jamal lifted his chin. “Won’t be nothin’ I can do.”

Spoken so matter-of-fact. But Tarik knew what those words cost his brother. “I know.”

Jamal nodded, then turned and walked away. But his voice drifted back through the night. “I love you, L’il Man.”

Tarik closed his eyes. “I know, brother. I love you too.” When his whispered response was met with silence, Tarik opened his eyes, ignoring the tears that slipped free and ran down his face. He gazed back up at the sky.

Someday, he’d really like to see the stars.

THIRTY-TWO   

S
top the work.”

Kyla blinked in the darkness of her bedroom, struggling to comprehend the words coming across the phone line. The jangling phone had jerked her from sleep, and she grabbed at the receiver, fearing, as anyone does at a call in the middle of the night, bad news from her family.

Instead, a low, threatening voice filled her ears. “Stop the work. Or we’ll have to stop you. Permanent.”

“I … what?” Kyla pushed to a sitting position. “Who is this?”

Obscenities flew then, and Kyla jerked the receiver from her ear and slammed it down in the cradle. She pushed back against her pillows, trembling, not just because of the foul words thrown at her, but also at the violence behind them.

She should have known this was coming. They were making real progress on the church, so it only made sense their opponents would resort to such tactics. But that didn’t make it any easier to endure.

A soft mew drew her attention, and she scooped Serendipity up, holding her close, letting the cat’s rumbling purr—and her own fervid prayers—replace fear with calm.

Progress. It was a beautiful thing.

Kyla studied the papers in front of her. Invoices, schedules that had been worked and reworked and …

Okay, so there had been a few delays.

More than a few.

Their two largest shipments of materials were delayed, though the companies couldn’t explain why. One shipment just disappeared. “Lost,” Kyla was told when she called for the umpteenth time to check on it.

“Lost?”

“Yup.”

Apparently the company she’d called didn’t hire folks for their scintillating conversational skills. “So … will a replacement shipment be sent?”

“S’pose so.”

Drawing a deep breath, Kyla counted to two hundred. “I paid for expedited shipping on that order. I assume the company will absorb those costs and get this replacement to me ASAP?”

“Well, don’t know if we can do that without knowing whose fault it is.”

“Whose fault? Sir, it has to be on your end.”

“How do we know that? How do we know it isn’t there already?”

“If it were here, I wouldn’t be calling you!” She sucked in some measure of calm.

“You never know, miss. Could be someone signed for it and just set it aside.”

“Set it aside.”

“Yup.”

“An entire shipment of windows.” Kyla wanted to pound her head on the desk.

The conversation went downhill from there. It took Kyla another fifteen minutes to get a supervisor on the line. And another half hour for him to figure out the issue and assure her the replacement shipment would go out that same day. ASAP.

At their expense.

What drove Kyla nuts, though, wasn’t just that the shipments were messed up. It was that no one could offer any explanations. Just apologies. Lots of apologies.

The first few had some calming effect. After hours upon hours with her ear glued to the phone—maybe Annie was right; maybe it was time to go Bluetooth—Kyla was certain if she heard one more “I’m awful sorry” or “I don’t know how that could have happened,” she was going to erupt.

She’d almost done so when one customer service rep, whose company did manage to deliver on time, but whose entire shipment of plumbing fittings was the wrong size. Another lengthy phone call revealed what they’d received was one letter off the unit number they’d ordered. When the rep finally figured it out, he spoke the words that almost pushed Kyla over the edge:

“You must have ordered the wrong thing.”

Kyla squelched that almost the second the words came through the phone line.

Her people were the best. They checked and double-checked before orders went out. Especially on this job. Because they knew time was at a premium.

But now things were starting to click. They’d finally received almost everything they needed and the project was well underway. The floors, walls, and old ceiling were stripped from the sanctuary-cum-gymnasium. The walls between the upstairs classrooms were history, as was the old wiring. New insulation was in place, and they were all set to start putting in the new double-paned windows today.

And they were only a week behind schedule.

Normally a week’s delay was no big deal. With this project it could have been disastrous. Had her crew been any less skilled, they’d never have made
up that time. But her guys were amazing. They’d worked almost around the clock getting the building gutted, and now they were back on schedule. Almost.

At this point, “almost” was great. For the first time in days, Kyla felt as though she could breathe.

“The windows arrived.”

Kyla looked up from her desk. If the dark cloud on her foreman’s face meant anything, her relief was about to die a grisly death. “Dare I ask?”

Grant snorted. “They’re all the wrong size.”

She stared at him. She couldn’t have heard right. “All of them?”

“Off by a quarter inch. Every last one of the da—” He caught the warning of her arched brow and clenched his teeth. “Dratted things.”

Grant was a tough old bird. He’d been with the company since she was a teen. Knew all the workers by name, and despite his gruff exterior, treated people like gold. Kyla considered him one of JuCo’s greatest assets. Sure, his language got a bit salty now and then. But he’d worked hard to restrain himself, knowing how much she—and her father before her—didn’t care for vulgarities.

However, she had to admit she understood his desire to use stronger language right now. Too well. Kyla wasn’t inclined toward obscenities, but more than once lately she’d wanted to scream. Really, really loud.

Instead, she held her hand out for the invoice.

“You gonna call ’em?”

She gave his bland question a nod. “I’m gonna call ’em.”

“Sure you don’t want me to do it?”

That brought her gaze to his. The man hated the phone as much as she detested technology.

“Company’s based in Shy Town, right?” His face was a study in innocence. “I can be real persuasive.”

Kyla’s frustration gave way to laughter. “Let me guess. You’re from Chicago. You know people.”

“Uncle’s a Gambini.”

“Uncle who? Guido?”

He didn’t even crack a smile, though she knew it had to take some serious effort to prevent it. “Close. Giovanni. He’s a very tactful fellow.”

“Only breaks bones that heal quickly, huh?”

“Miss Justice, you disappoint me. Such flagrant stereotypes don’t become you.” The pure delight in Grant’s broadening smile belied his chastisement.

“Tell you what”—she lifted the phone receiver—“let me give it a shot. If they don’t make this right, we’ll call in the … cavalry.”

He bowed his head, ever the gentleman. “I live to serve.”

Question was, would those he dealt with while serving survive? Kyla didn’t care to test the theory. Well. Not yet, anyway. But the next company that messed up an order or hit a snag in delivering on time?

She just might give good ol’ Giovanni a call.

Mason got the call just before the end of the workday.

“You haven’t stopped Kyla Justice.”

Controlled fury singed Mason’s ear. “Mr. Ballat, I never said I’d stop Kyla. I said I’d check into the situation.”

“Perhaps”—the snide edge to the words set Mason’s teeth grinding—“you’ve lost your edge with the good Ms. Justice—”

“Look. My relationship with Kyla is none of your—”

Ballat didn’t even pause. “—considering the fact …” Now he hesitated, as though making sure he had Mason’s full attention.

Which he did. Because Ballat sounded even more supercilious than usual. And that was not a good sign. “Yes?”

“Oh, nothing really. Just that there’s another man beside her all day.” The suggestion was as ugly as the smile he could hear in Ballat’s slimy tone. “Close beside her. And Mason?”

“Yes?”

“She seems to like it that way.”

THIRTY-THREE