The education of nevada.., p.2
The Education of Nevada Duncan, page 2
“I do love you,” I told her as they literally carried her down the hall. “That’s why I brought you here.”
“Bullshit! You’re going to get me killed,” she cried as she disappeared down the corridor. “You’re going to get me killed!”
“Everything all right, bro?” I turned to see my brother Junior and his wife, Sonya, standing beside me. Sonya was a nurse, and she had recommended The Clayborn Institute for Mental Health as one of the best hospitals of its kind in the country.
“Ain’t shit gonna be all right until we catch these motherfuckers,” I snapped back at Junior.
They’d been in the lobby, and I was sure they’d heard Marie screaming at the top of her lungs.
“Yeah, I know, but what happened? She seemed fine when you went back,” Junior said.
“I don’t know. One second she’s docile as a lamb, and the next second she’s screaming and fighting like a lunatic. I don’t get it,” I replied sadly.
“Nothing to get. You said it best—she needs help. Anyone would after what she’s been through. You did the right thing bringing her here,” Sonya said, placing a hand on my back to comfort me. It was no comfort. Nothing other than killing the people who did this would help.
“Then why the hell do I feel like shit?” I could still hear Marie screaming my name in the distance.
“Because you love her, that’s why,” Sonya replied.
“Yeah, I guess I do. That’s the problem.” From my pocket, I pulled out a thick envelope filled with crisp hundred-dollar bills and handed it to Sonya. “I need you to keep an eye on her, Sonya. Spread this money around the employees on her floor. Nobody outside of our family is to know she’s here.”
“What about her brother?” Junior asked.
“Especially not her brother. I’m not saying he did it, but that weaselly bastard’s a suspect until I say he’s not. And get the twins down here. I want her to have twenty-four hour security,” I demanded.
“You think whoever did this will come back?” Sonya asked timidly. It was pretty obvious the thought of whoever killed those girls returning was troubling to her.
“I doubt it. They coulda killed her along with the girls if they wanted her dead,” I said angrily. “Those bastards wanted her to remember this for the rest of her life. They knew how much those girls meant to her and how much their deaths would haunt her.” She may have been their madam, but Marie had practically raised most of those girls. They were the only family she had other than her no-account brother.
“Makes me want to put a bullet in them,” Sonya snapped.
“A bullet’s too kind,” Junior replied, looking down at his phone.
“By the way, that was Pop. They landed in Paris.”
I nodded my head. At least something was going right. Nevada being in Paris was a good thing, despite the argument it had caused with his mother. Consuela wanted him to go to college, but Chi’s was the best place for him, especially since his girlfriend had been one of Marie’s girls. Death was the worst kind of heartbreak. Finishing shool was the kind of distraction he needed while I figured out who was behind this.
“So, what now?” Junior asked.
“Now we dive even deeper into this shit. And in order to do that, we have to go back to where it started.”
“The Hellfire Club?” Junior asked.
“Exactly. Get Bryant on the phone and tell him I want to see him,” I demanded. “And let’s get down to the Hellfire Club. I wanna see if I can find Marie’s little black book. See if she owed anyone money.”
Nevada
3
The ride to Chi’s Finishing School was about an hour and a half long from the Paris-Orly Airport, and it was beautiful. I’d never been to Europe, but I liked it already. It had a totally different vibe than anywhere I’d ever been in the States or Mexico, and I looked forward to exploring it. All I could think of was how much Kia would have loved it.
When we reached our destination, I was kind of astonished.
“Is that it?” I asked. I’m sure my jaw was hanging down as I stared at the huge medieval walls, stone gates, and the actual moat that surround the huge castle we were stopped in front of. There was even a boy sitting on the bank, fishing. “Is that Chi’s Finishing School?”
“Yep, kind of amazing, isn’t it?” my grandmother replied.
“Pictures do it no justice,” Grandpa added as we drove over the drawbridge.
From the outside, you would never know it, but inside the castle walls was more like a college campus than anything else. I watched dozens of groups, dressed in different colors, practicing martial arts, archery, hand to hand combat, and countless other physical activities on the grounds of the campus.
“What building are you in?” Grandma asked. I rummaged through my backpack to find my first day of school instructions.
“Paris Hall,” I replied.
Rob, now driving the SUV we were in, followed the signs to Paris Hall, and eventually we pulled in front of a large stone building. There were several people coming and going from the building, all dressed in navy blue uniforms. One guy in particular, a tall lanky white guy, stood out more than anyone, mainly because he was staring at us like a groupie. He walked up to the car as we were getting out.
“You must be Nevada Duncan,” he said in a thick accent that sounded Irish.
“Yeah, I’m Nevada. Who are you?” I asked. He wasn’t threatening, but it was kinda creepy that he knew who I was, and we’d never met.
“Name’s Clem McCloud. I believe we’re roommates. Pleased to meet you.” He held out his hand. “It’s going to be a fun year.”
I hesitated to take his hand at first, but when I saw the smile on his face was genuine, I gave in. “Yeah, it is. Pleased to meet you too, Clem. These are my grandparents, LC and—”
“Oh, I know who they are. It’s a real pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Duncan.” Clem shook my grandpa’s hand then hugged my grandma like he had known her his entire life. Once again, very creepy. “Are you still making those peanut butter cookies, Mrs. Duncan?”
Grandma smiled, looking flattered. “Yes, I am. How do you know about my cookies?”
“My brother Kevin went to school with your sons Junior and Vegas,” he said. “They still talk about the care packages you used to send.”
Grandpa raised an eyebrow. “Did you say your name is McCloud? Are you one of Patrick McCloud’s sons?”
“Yes, sir, I am,” he said with pride.
“Geez, how many kids does Patrick have?” Grandpa questioned.
“Thirteen boys and six girls. That we know of. My father has been a very busy man over the years,” Clem replied as if it was no big deal.
“Apparently.” My grandpa chuckled. “Please, give him my best.”
“I sure will.” He lifted one of my suitcases. “Why don’t I give you a hand with your suitcase? We’re not allowed to have visitors in the building except on weekends.”
My grandmother looked disappointed, but what could she do? If it weren’t for my grandpa pulling some strings, I might have not been admitted at all.
“Bye, Grandma.” I walked over and hugged her tight, then my grandpa. I gave Rob a nod. “Take care of them.”
“For sure.” Rob nodded back.
Clem and I grabbed my bags and headed inside. I could feel my grandparents’ eyes on me as I made my way through the doors. I wanted to look back, give them a reassuring wave, but I didn’t want to take a chance on looking soft to Clem, so I kept my head straight. My plan from day one was to stay under everyone’s radar, not draw any attention to myself, and just learn as much as I possibly could over the next twelve months.
Once inside the common area, I quickly found out that staying under the radar was going to be damn near impossible. It felt as if I was being watched, not by one person, but by everyone in the room.
“Um, Clem?”
“Yeah?” He turned to me.
“Why is everyone staring at us?”
He looked around and chuckled. “They’re not staring at me. I can assure you of that, mate.”
“Then why are they staring at me?”
“Most of them haven’t seen royalty before,” he replied. “I mean, we do have some genuine, honest-to-god princes and princesses on campus, but nobody like you.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean nobody like me?”
“You don’t get it, do you? You’re Nevada Duncan, the son of Vegas Duncan, the nephew of Paris and cousin of Sasha. Hell, this building wasn’t named after the city of Paris. It was named after your aunt. And the dining hall is named after your dad.”
“What? Are you serious?”
“Look for yourself.” He pointed to a picture above the huge fireplace. I took a few steps toward it and stared. Hanging over the mantel was a full-sized portrait of Aunt Paris.
“This is the elite dorm, the cream of the crop. Your aunt is a god around here, and so is your dad. Being your roommate is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re going to get laid every night, and so am I as your wing man.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and smiled. “You’re our new leader.”
“Shit,” I murmured to myself. “I think I’ve bitten off a little more than I can chew.”
I knew my family members had been high achieving students at the school, but I had no idea I was walking into this. So much for staying under the radar.
“Yeah, you got some pretty big shoes to fill.”
Vegas
4
Junior and I entered the Hellfire Club through the back entrance and made our way toward Marie’s office. Yellow crime scene tape was still everywhere, despite it being months since the killings. As we walked inside the blood-stained parlor, I could almost smell the stench of death, and from the look on Junior’s face, so could he. Now, we’d seen our fair share of death. Hell, we’d even taken a few deserving souls over the years, but the senseless killing that had taken place here was chilling. I wasn’t exactly a religious man, but I said a quick prayer before Junior and I continued on to Marie’s office.
“Shit, looks like the cops beat us to it.” Junior sighed angrily when we cautiously slid open the door to Marie’s office. The place had been trashed, and it wasn’t random vandalism. Somebody had been looking for something.
I shook my head adamantly. “Cops didn’t do this.”
“All right, then who?” Junior gave me an inquisitive look. “This place wasn’t like this when they found the girls. Bryant let me inspect it.”
“Most likely one of Marie’s competitors, or maybe a client. That client book she kept was worth millions and could take a lot of people down,” I explained, moving my flashlight from left to right across the trashed office. “A lot of people would love to get their hands on it.”
“From the looks of this place, whoever was here may have already found it.” Junior’s face was full of concern.
“I don’t know, but I hope not,” I said, “because that book might be the best lead to who’s behind all this. Come on. We’re not gonna find it standing here.”
Junior nodded his agreement and we stepped into the room, overturning the mess to search for Marie’s books. Unfortunately, whoever had been there before us had beaten us to every hiding place imaginable, including the safe that Marie had hidden behind a picture of me. One thing was for sure: whoever opened that safe knew what they were doing. It was evident from the fifty thousand in cash and jewelry that was left behind that this was no simple robbery.
“I think they got it, Vegas,” Junior said. The defeat was evident in his tone.
“Yeah, unfortunately, I think you’re ri—”
I was interrupted by a huge crash outside the room. Junior looked over at me, and I placed my finger over my lips to silence him. We withdrew our guns from holsters, him from inside his jacket and me from the small of my back. I also carried a .38 in an ankle holster. After what had happened to Marie, a brother couldn’t be too safe. Using hand signals we’d learned at Chi’s Finishing School to communicate, we left the office to investigate the noise.
We made our way through the club and followed the sound of someone fumbling around in the parlor. Finding what looked to be a lone person lurking in the shadows by the bar, Junior and I split up. As we crept closer, it was Junior’s job to distract whoever the hell it was, which he did by tossing a glass in the middle of the parlor. The damn thing broke into a million pieces.
“Freeze!” the shadowy figure shouted, reaching in his suit jacket for what I could only assume was a gun—which brought me to my job, which was to ease up behind him fast. It would be only a matter of seconds before he realized where that broken glass had come from and took aim at my brother, who, at six foot five and 350 pounds, was one big-ass target.
“I said freeze!” he shouted.
His gun was now pointed at Junior, and he was tensing to fire. Lucky for Junior, my gun was pointed at the back of this guy’s head.
“If I were you, I’d drop that gun and keep your hands where I can see them,” I growled.
He raised his hands and laughed. “You planning on shooting a NYPD detective? ’Cause that might not work well for either of us.”
I recognized the sarcastic voice of Detective James Bryant right away. “Bryant, you fucking ass. Announce yourself!” I shouted, holstering my weapon. “Why the hell are you fumbling around in the dark behind the bar like that? I almost shot your ass.”
“I was looking for the light,” Bryant replied, holstering his gun.
Bryant was one of the NYPD detectives my family had on our payroll. He was an arrogant prick as far as I was concerned, which was why he usually worked with my brother-in-law Harris, but when the incident happened here at the Hellfire Club, my pops asked him to get involved. Bryant pulled some strings right away to get himself assigned to the case. It’s amazing how money can motivate a person. He’d been reporting to Pop and Junior while I took care of Marie, but now it was time we met face to face.
“Looking for a light almost got you killed,” Junior snapped at him, reaching behind the bar and flipping on the switch. The room became illuminated.
“So, what do you got? It’s been two months and I haven’t heard shit. You fucking cops any closer to finding out what the fuck happened here?” I asked.
Bryant took a breath and exhaled. “Honestly, we ain’t got dick, but the folks down at One Police Plaza want us to act like we do. Twelve women murdered in an election year doesn’t make for good politics, and the pressure your father is putting on his political contacts isn’t helping. The Commissioner’s trying to keep his job. I wouldn’t be surprised if this doesn’t get pinned on some career criminal or a sex offender we’ve been trying to nail for a while. They just want someone to pin it on.”
“I don’t give a shit what they want. I wanna know who did this. Am I making myself clear? We don’t pay you ten grand a month to hold your dick, drink coffee, and eat donuts. We pay you for fucking results. So, you better tell me something.”
Bryant didn’t like the dressing down I was giving him, so he turned to Junior, hoping for a sympathetic ear. “You know I’ve been busting my ass on this case the past two months, Junior, telling you everything we find, and this is the thanks I get? What the fuck?” He looked like he was about to walk.
“Bryant, chill out. We all know you’re doing the best you can,” Junior replied, though he was mostly talking to me. “His girlfriend is Marie Hernandez. He’s been taking care of the only survivor.”
“Oh, shit. Sorry.” Bryant’s entire demeanor changed. “How is she?”
“She’s fucked up. She’s afraid of her own damn shadow. Only thing that’s going to give her peace is us finding these bastards. We had to put her in a mental facility this morning.”
“Yeah, I get it,” Bryant replied sincerely. “You think we could talk to her? Might help the case.”
“Not gonna happen,” I replied adamantly. “You got questions, you give them to me or Junior. We’ll see if we can get you some answers. Now, what the fuck do you got?”
“You ever heard of The Pulse?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of it. It’s a strip club over on the Lower East Side. What about it?” Junior asked.
“You might wanna pay them a visit.” It didn’t sound like a simple suggestion.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because from what vice is telling me, they seem to be the only ones benefiting from your girl Marie’s demise.”
Nevada
5
I’d managed to make it through the first night at Chi’s without incident and make a few new friends with the help of Clem. He’d introduced me to quite a few people in the dorm, and to be honest, most of them were pretty cool, especially Raheem, our other roommate. He was a brother from Washington, D.C., who’d spent most of his life in boarding schools in Europe.
Clem was right about the girls. I’d been slipped at least four phone numbers from some pretty hot girls, and one dude named Richard who, despite his British accent and blue eyes, reminded me a lot of my Uncle Rio. I tried my best to be polite to him and the girls, but I had no intention of hooking up with anyone. I could never do something like that to Kia. I loved her too much for that. Besides, I wasn’t there to meet women. I was there to learn how to find Kia’s killer.
“Good morning,” our second period teacher, a thin, very intense, sixty-something-year-old Asian woman said. I was in a class with Raheem and about fifteen other elite students from our dorm. “My name is Professor Susan Chin. I am your Criminal Science professor. I trust everyone had a sufficient amount of time to freshen up after your first class?”
Our first class had been PE, which consisted of calisthenics and a five-mile run with a profoundly serious drill-sergeant type of Muslim named Brother Elijah.
“No, I can smell most of them from here. Especially the one in front of me.”
Professor Chin cut her eyes at someone sitting in the back, and when I turned my head to look, I was met with glaring eyes. They belonged to a kid who looked big enough to be a lineman in the NFL. Even though he was sitting, I could tell that he was well over six feet tall. He had dirty blonde hair and a light dusting of freckles across his nose that seemed to blend as he scowled at me.
