War, page 11
“Della said they’d talk to the others, get them to work with your people and social workers to i.d the children,” El shared.
“They’re also gonna convince the others to i.d. Keene, Jock and Scofield as the ones who kept them on Buetree,” Seela added.
“How long before all this is in motion?” Fray asked.
“Well,” Seela moved her cider mug around on the table, “certain esteemed members of our families have called in favors and blocked Keene’s lawyer from getting him released, but it still doesn’t mean we’ll be able to hold him indefinitely or even get a conviction.
Bianca says Della’s and Patsy’s testimonies could do that,” Seela continued. “She’s sending someone from Charleston to take their statements.”
“It’s still not good enough for Della and Patsy, though,” Moira shook her head admiringly while sipping at her Jasmine tea. “They intend to get all the island residents to make statements.”
Laughter filled the cozy space.
“Tell them their thoroughness is appreciated,” War said. “It’s necessary given how slippery the jackasses have been.”
“Is there any sign of Scofield or Jock yet?” El asked.
“Nothing,” War dragged all ten fingers through his hair. “It’s no surprise, though.”
“No surprise at all. Someone on the island is probably hiding them,” Zyon guessed.
El rolled her eyes. “You know, I almost forgot there are still folks loyal to Bronson Guthrie here.”
“Never forget that, Babe,” Fray urged his fiancee. “There are more loyalists on New than you might think. If that wasn’t clear before my mother died, it was very clear afterward. No one asked one question about a drowned woman washing up on the shores of the Atlantic. Drowned, even though she lived around water her whole life. Made sure her son knew how to swim even though he was barely a year old.”
El reached over, squeezed Fray's hand.
“The man’s death was the best thing that ever happened to any of us. If only it could’ve happened before I lost her.”
El hugged Fray back against her. His pain was evident despite the matter-of-fact manner he spoke. Fray’s tone fooled no one, least of all Seela who inhaled sharply and left the cushiony scoop chair that sat closest to the active flames in the lounge hearth.
War had scarcely looked away from Seela since they’d met at LaRue’s. His interest was undeniable as he measured her expression, one that reeked of discontent.
“We have to make the most of having Keene in custody,” he said before she could distract him more than she had.
“Well it’s like Fray said,” Zyon raised a hand toward his cousin. “War? You’re our strategist. What’s next?”
“How long will it take to get the statements, See-See?” War asked her. “Do we need to work on another stall tactic while we wait?”
“Um...no,” Seela emerged from her deep thoughts. “Della and Patsy were ready to talk before we even left the hotel. I think they’ll be ready to talk to Cassius first thing in the morning.”
War only nodded, his expression as fixed as it ever was as he watched her.
“Well I think it’s time to turn in,” Moira suggested, having noticed the intensity charging the room.
Zyon, Fray and El agreed. War and Seela were alone in the lounge room soon after.
“There’s more, isn’t there?”
Dazed, Seela shook her head, threw up a hand. “I don’t...”
“More you haven’t told me,” he clarified.
“Well, jeez War we haven’t really talked in sixteen years. Of course there’s more I haven’t told you,” she laughed a little and braced herself when he stood and moved close to dwarf her height.
“So should I take that to mean we won’t spend the night discussing what you don’t trust me enough to share?”
“I trust you, War-”
“You trust me?”
She flinched at his tone, despising herself for it.
“We haven’t really talked in sixteen years. Of course you don’t trust me.”
She glared, not appreciating having her words thrown back at her. “That’s not fair.”
“No it’s not, but there it is.”
“So because of what you think I’m keeping from you, we’re back to not communicating?” Her heart vaulted to her throat at the look he turned her way. In moments, her feet were leaving the floor.
“I wouldn’t say that,” War murmured next to her temple.
Everything preoccupying her mind up until that moment became engulfed by a tumult of need. Those emotions worked their way up from her core, throbbing relentlessly as his proximity overwhelmed.
He kissed her, making it abundantly clear that he planned on taking his time with her mouth. The kiss was exploring, possessive, intentional. Deliberately, his tongue grazed her teeth. He repeated the gesture as she moaned and tried to take his mouth with her tongue. War abandoned the kiss and used his mouth on her throat instead. Gradually, he worked his way up to start a sensual assault on her ear. Seela tried to tilt her head to accommodate the torment, but there was no need. War had his hand tangled in her hair, easily steadying her to endure his every move.
They could’ve been discovered at any moment, if their companions had failed to lock the door when they left. Seela didn’t care. She was only interested in leaning in to enjoy more of Warwick’s touch. Her arms circled his neck when he cupped her bottom as the lounge door hit her back. The snick of the lock echoed soon after.
There were no beds in the lounges at LaRue’s, but many other surfaces suited the needs of its two occupants. War wasn’t picky. With Seela secure between the door and his body, his attention escalated at her ear. He sucked the fleshy lobe ravenously while tugging the zipper of the olive green shirt dress she wore with fur-lined knee boots.
Her breasts wedged the material further apart with every breath. War cupped the full firm orbs, squeezing to his content. Seela was still off her feet, elevated to a height that put her at a comfortable level for him to rest his face in the softly fragrant valley. He breathed her in, finding a nipple to molest. Seela arched sharply when he sucked.
She was lost in thunderous sensation that amplified when War took her with a single lunge that stretched her intimate walls wide around his thick erection. Her body hummed at the treatment and she bit into his shoulder to muffle the cries crowding her throat.
They weren’t using protection and War knew they should stop now while there was a chance they were still ahead. She said she trusted him, but how long would that last if he got her pregnant?
The idea-the possibility, was dizzying. The thought of her pregnant with his child, sharing that unbreakable bond with her...not so very long ago, he would’ve been happy just to see her smile in his direction. Now she was in his arms, willingly. Eagerly giving him a part of herself no one else knew.
She cried into his shoulder, the sound stirring his hormones into greater frenzy. Stopping now, was a joke. He found her mouth with his as the long thick slides of his sex gained urgency. He cherished the pitch of her cries when he came, filling her with generous doses of his need. War wondered if the woman in his arms had any idea of how irrevocably her fate was sealed. He was never letting go of her again.
~13~
“I haven’t been careful with you, See-See.”
Delightfully depleted, it took some effort for her to work up the strength to frown, even more to speak.
“Mmm...what are you talking about?” She managed, reaching up to bend a dreadlock around her finger.
“I wouldn’t trade a minute of this for anything,” he said. “I convinced myself that the only way I’d ever have you was in my dreams. Now I’ve got you,” he drew the back of his fist across the underside of her breast. “I’ve been lost in taking what I want and not being careful with you while I did it.”
“War,” understanding pooled her voice and expression. “Concern for what happens or doesn’t happen isn’t all your responsibility. I haven’t thought much about being careful either.”
“Yeah,” he smiled tenderly into her upturned face. “We both know the consequences would be more stressful on you than me.”
Seela mulled over the word for a moment. “Stressful. That’s how you see it?” Her lashes fluttered when he leaned close to drop a lingering kiss between her brows.
War shifted, gently unsettling Seela from their cuddle. He left their plush pallet and crossed the room on slow strides. The lounge sofas and chairs were accented with a variety of throw pillows and blankets. This allowed the space to easily shift into a cozy oasis for lovers. Rain had entered the forecast again. Speculation was high that snow could visit the island in another day or so.
War turned his back on the high windows and rested on a far wall. He regarded Seela where she lay. The dark, bottomless pools of his eyes roamed her face tirelessly. “That would never be stressful for me. That would be the best thing in the world to me,” he rejoined her on the pallet after a few moments.
Seela’s smile was steadily brightening. War’s next words brought her back to reality.
“Our world is far from being the best it can be. There’s still a lot to do. A lot of folks needing to be put down or...out. Where they can’t harm us or any who might come after us.”
“And once that happens?” She asked, then bit softly into War’s thumb when it brushed her mouth.
“When that happens, it’s time for us,” he said, settling down beside her to ply her mouth with a sweet kiss. “See-See what you said before about us not talking for sixteen years, you were right. There’s still too much we don’t know about each other.”
“Warwick, I-”
“See-See, wait, just...” he brushed his thumb across her bottom lip again. The gesture now belied a certain urgency as though he were silently asking her to let him finish.
“I know something’s bothering you. I’d be an idiot to just expect you to trust me with it. We need time to know each other without so much of...this hanging over our heads.”
She laughed a little. “That’s a funny way to put it.” She rubbed one of his dreads when he nodded.
“What happened before, it won’t ever not be hanging over our heads but maybe what we do here-now might stop it from happening again and again, each time worse than the last.”
Now, Seela nodded against the pillow. “So what does all this mean in terms of...being careful? Are you saying you don’t want to have sex anymore?”
“Are you crazy, girl?” He joined in with soft laughter when he heard hers.
“No See-See, I’m saying we’ll be careful when we have sex.”
“Right. I understand, War. We’ll use protection until this is over.”
“Wrong again, Seela Desmond,” he put a quick kiss to the tip of her nose. “We’ll use protection until you’re my wife.”
***
“Now would be the time for you to stop thinking we’re just chasing our asses here, Hammond. We’re working with a multitude of witness statements. First hand accounts- quite a few of them from minors. I don’t have to tell you how much weight that carries. As far as witnesses go, they’re the cream of the crop. Chief Cassius Sagers leaned back from the interrogation table and looked on as Keene Hammond idly drew invisible patterns into the dented metal. It was easy to see that the man was well and truly shaken.
“Sure you don’t want to put in that call to your lawyer now?” The Chief asked.
Warwick and Seela viewed the scene from their places on the other side of the one way mirror. It was morning-two days later. Once again, the island’s police chief was making a last ditch effort to rattle Keene Hammond into giving up the whereabouts of his remaining partners and full disclosure of their business dealings.
“Why hasn’t he called his lawyer?” Seela whispered to Warwick.
“No idea,” he said. “I figured it’d be his first move, but no. He made a call when they first took him into custody- chances are, it was to one of my brothers. Not wanting to call his lawyer...could be about something else.”
“Trying to make you think he’s not on edge,” Seela guessed.
“That’s what I thought at first.”
“And now?”
“Now I think it’s because he’s afraid to be out and about on his own.”
“Jail is safer?” Light laughter underscored Seela’s inquiry.
“At this point, nothing would surprise me. Guess we’re about to find out.”
“How?”
War inclined his head toward the mirror. “Watch,” he said.
“We got enough to charge you with everything those witnesses claim they were subjected to on Buetree,” Cassius was informing his prisoner.
“Everything we witnessed,” Cassius continued. “You and your men holding women and children at gunpoint.”
“You never saw me with a gun on on any women and children-”
“Cut the shit, Hammond!” Cassius snarled with a clenched fist. “You know what kind of hole you’re in. Won’t be long before we’ve got a credible lead on where they and their family members were taken on these...work trips?” Cassius stood and rested his fists on the table.
“What I won’t have, Hammond. What I will not risk is you claiming we denied your right to counsel and have you use that lie to see our case fall apart.” Sagers bore down on the table as he glared. “Since you seem hell bent on denying yourself that right, I’m releasing you from police custody-”
“What?” Keene Hammond straightened, the metal chair groaned under his weight.
“You are not to leave the island-”
“Wait-”
“If you do leave, a warrant will be issued for your arrest and we’ll just add-”
“Cass-”
“Add that to the list of charges already stacked against you.”
“Cassius, wait-”
“A guard will be in to process you out.”
“Okay! Okay I-I’ll talk.”
“Good day to you, Mr. Hammond and good luck-”
“Linton!” Keene Hammond bowed his head until his brow rested on the edge of the battered table. “Linton, Virginia.”
“I’ll be damned...” Seela murmured from inside the observation room.
War was already moving away from the mirror, his phone in hand.
Seela moved close to the mirror to take in the rest of the confession.
“Maud and Jute VanSty,” Keene was reclined on the uncomfortable looking chair and appearing as miserable as the seat must have felt. “Brother and sister,” he added. “Not sure which is older- I think Maud, given her...personality. They own a compound in Linton. No one’s supposed to know about it, but we have for some time.”
“Compound,” Cassius rested back on a wall, arms folded over a beefy chest, straining beneath his light brown uniform shirt. “Why the need for so much space? Is that where they keep the Buetree folks?”
Keene smirked. “Them and everyone they bring from the other labor islands.”
“Other labor islands,” Cassius left his post on the wall.
“No,” Seela murmured from where she stood. Horrified emotion was taking root in her gut.
“Where?” Cassius demanded, his plate-sized hands now splayed on the table as he leaned in to pin the other man with a scowl.
There was no need for intimidation. The Chief had already located the proper trigger to motivate his prisoner’s cooperation.
“There are islands from South Carolina to Florida. Some along the Gulf,” Keene shared. “I’ve heard rumors of a place outside California but I’m not sure.”
Cassius gaped, his surprise undeniable.
“From there, they get shipped up to the VanStys. Our boats are met midway to the final destination. Their people unload them from our ships to theirs and carry them the rest of the way for work assignments in various locations. Depending on the need-”
“The need? Enlighten me, Hammond.”
Keene bristled, his willingness to cooperate appearing to cool. This, until Cassius brought his fist down hard on the table.
“Talk!”
“Intimate needs!” Keene met the Chief’s glare with his own.
“Jesus...” Cassius straightened, ran a hand over his round, fair-skinned face.
The Chief turned to the mirror, but Seela’s focus was on Keene Hammond. Her palms ached to strike him, to plow into his face with merciless and evicerating contempt.
Again, Cassius sighed. Resolve, seemed to temper the anger that had captured his expression. “So in addition to kidnapping and traficking, we add rape and molestation to the list.”
“Oh no, Chief, you misunderstand. There was no kidnapping.”
Now, Sagers grinned. “You expect me to believe these people just willingly presented themselves on these islands to be abused.”
No hint of the usual smugness appeared on Keene Hammond’s expression then.
“No, Chief,” he said. “That’s not what I expect you to believe at all.”
***
The New Island Christmas Luncheon was a culinary dream. Held the Saturday before Christmas week in The Taylor ballroom, the gathering was well attended and one of the highlights of the holiday season.
With the exception of Christmas Day breakfast and dinner, the luncheon was Seela’s favorite event. Her earliest memories of the gathering were like something out of a storybook. She often compared the rows and rows of food-laden tables filling the ballroom to the impossibly long, curvy tables the Whos gathered around in Dr. Seuss’s How The Grinch Stole Christmas.
The celebration, the fellowship and divine meal made for a sublime experience. Everything was in place to make a sublime experience of that afternoon’s lunch. Everything, but the desire to celebrate. The meal included roast beef and chicken richly seasoned in red and green onions, cracked pepper, garlic and basil, red beans and rice, macaroni and cheese casserole, collards, sweet corn bread and much more. A long table on a far wall carried an assortment of high calorie desserts that all the diners intended to save room for. Attendees enjoyed every morsel, yet their hearts ached over the latest news to hit the island community.
