Dark Waters, page 14
“And why is the treasure’s office asking you for that information?”
“Because you’re not here, sir. All I know is, she says she tried to access the file but can’t because you locked it.”
Panicking, Keenan Jr. fumbles to open his briefcase. When he does, he pulls the phony documents for the fundraiser from a second set of books. As he makes a U-turn in the middle of the street, he shoots toward downtown to give the nosey-ass treasurer a hard copy of the file she’s trying to access. She cannot see the original documents under any circumstances.
Keenan Jr.’s stomach drops a few more centimeters when his assistant says she just received an air message from the treasurer. “What does it say, Julie?”
“I told her you were in meetings the rest of the afternoon, so she’s asking me if I have your password for the master file.”
“Tell her that you don’t.”
“I did, sir. That’s when she messaged me and asked me to call and get it from you.”
Before Keenan Jr. could answer her, his line beeps; he recognized the number. It’s the treasure’s office. “Julie, I’ll see you when I get back to the office.”
Keenan Jr. clicks over, thinking, Don’t rush me, Allison; I’m your boss. You’re not mine. He then answers. “DA Waters.”
“DA Waters, good afternoon. This is Allison Baker calling, as I’m sure you know.”
“What can I do for you, Allison?”
“Well, we have an issue that must be cleared ASAP.”
Keenan Jr. is driving like a bat out of hell, trying to make it back to the office. Sweat runs down his forehead when he asks, “Okay, what can I assist with?”
“Well, a copy of the Hamilton Elementary fundraiser disbursements was sent directly to me, as all the fundraisers and charities do monthly. I generally check them, sign them, and send everything to the finance director for final approval.”
Keenan Jr said, “Okay.”
“Your office donated twenty thousand dollars for Hamilton Elementary, which was awesome. However, I noticed the funds were deposited into a different account with a different tax ID number. Looking closer, none of the information is the same as the non-profit bank info for the school.”
Keenan Jr. quickly said, “That’s my tax ID number, Allison. I gathered all the donations for the fundraiser, including my personal check, into one account. I then did a funds transfer for the full amount and sent it to the school’s accountant. I’ve been doing it this way to make the money trail a little cleaner.”
“Oookaaay. Do you have a copy of the incorporation paperwork you opened the account with and the IR—”
“IRS letter of exempt status, I have it all right here.”
“Great! I will need that info to add the new account to my records, and I’ll need to see your funds transfer. After that, we’re good on my end.”
Keenan Jr. breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that’s all you need? Lady, I got that. He confidently looks over at his briefcase when he says, “Okay, sure, I have it right here.”
“Okay. I can get the account info later, but I can take a copy of the fund transfer to the audit meeting I’m heading to now.” Keenan Jr. blew right through a red light when she said, “Since you’re not here, will you send me the password for the file? That way, I don’t have to wait for something we can easily pull up through Excel.”
“Okay, my assistant will send you my info immediately.” After hanging up, Keenan Jr. sped through downtown to get to his office. He thinks I don’t want to make it look like I’m hiding something because she’ll start digging, and I can’t have that. Fuck!
Less than five minutes later, there is another call from his office that he doesn’t answer. Next, there’s a text from Julie. He doesn’t answer that either. She’s just asking for his password he’s not going to send her. Besides, he’s here. Now all he has to do is give the treasurer what she’s asking for, but first, he has to make it up to the tenth floor. As he waits for the elevator, he gets another call from his office. This time, he answers. “DA Waters.”
“Sir, I’m sorry to keep calling you, but Allison Baker is hounding me for your password.”
“I’m back at the building now. Is she in her office? If so, tell her I’ll fax her what she needs in a minute.”
“Sir, she says she’s headed up to me now.”
“Thanks, Julie.” Keenan Jr. looks up at the panel of numbers above the elevator to see the car coming from the basement. That’s when he takes off for the staircase. His briefcase wades beside him as he races up the stairs trying to beat the treasurer to his office.
Keenan Jr. is sweating. He’s out of breath, slightly panting around the eighth floor, but he can’t stop now—he’s almost there! When he gets to his floor, he runs right past the War Room and bursts through the back door of his office. His chest is heaving when he sits down in his chair.
Ding! It’s the elevator, and sure enough, that treasurer bitch is on it. Keenan Jr. can hear her annoying voice from the hallway. “Hello Julie, our meeting is about to start; do you have that password for me?”
Keenan Jr. takes a deep breath to try and compose himself when he calls out, “It’s right here, Allison.” He grabs the folder from his desk and pulls out the forms. “Here is the full breakdown from that fundraiser and the fund’s transfer.” Keenan Jr. has fooled so many people with his bogus bullshit, and he was hoping this time wouldn’t be any different.
Allison quickly scans the form. Then, seeing the large transfer that never happened, she says, “This is all we need for the meeting.” Keenan Jr. could tell she was satisfied, which relieved him. “Thanks, DA Waters.”
“You’re welcome, Allison. Have a good day.”
Once she’s gone, Keenan Jr. plops back down in his office seat, blowing a sigh of relief out of his mouth. He then says, “Gugliemelli, did you set me up?” as he watches Allison round the corner to his office.
With Keenan Jr. at his desk glaring out through his glass door, his assistant’s phone buzzes on her desk. She looks around before she picks it up. In her notifications, she sees a two thousand dollar deposit. She then quickly clicks off her screen, lays her phone back down, and returns to work. She’s following the No Cell Phone rule today, mainly so no one will see that the two thousand dollars Cash App payment that just came in was from $Gugliemelli215.
Julie is slightly shaking when the office phone rings. She immediately jumps and grabs for the receiver, hoping no one can pick up on how strange she’s acting. “DA Keenan Waters office . . .”
31
Judge Waters
Judge Waters is working on a brief when he gets a buzz that someone is here to see him. He looks at his calendar. His next set of meetings wasn’t for two hours, so he couldn’t imagine who would be disturbing him.
“Who is it, Jean?”
“It’s Clarence Washburn, Judge.” After he asked her to send him back, Keenan Sr.’s old friend walked through the door. He’s gotten a little older, heavier, and grayer around the edges since the last time he saw him, but he was still the same old Clarance.
The heavyset balding black man walked right up to Judge Waters’s desk, carrying a thick manilla folder. “How the hell are you, Keenan?” The two men shake hands before Clarance sits on the sofa by the window with the folder in his lap.
“I’ll be better when you tell me my son is not out here doing anything crazy.”
“I wish that I could, but I can’t.” He pulled out a sheet of paper from the folder. “He attended a charity event in North Philly for Hamilton Elementary on the thirty-first.” Now Clarance started pulling out pictures of Keenan Jr. at the event. “He brought balloons, sat, and blew all three hundred of them up with the children. He ate a hot dog, a bag of popcorn and even rode the Ferris wheel with a student with a broken arm. And, of course, he took plenty of photos with the preschoolers.”
Judge Waters looked at the pictures. “He didn’t mention this fundraiser to me.”
Clarence pulled out more photos. This set was of a field of trees. “There were twenty-five trees donated by his office along with a twenty thousand-dollar check—gifts for Students donated ten thousand. Jack Pierce’s office donated thirty thousand. And your son supposedly donated five thousand dollars, which he did. But not all that money made it to the school.”
“What the hell does that mean, Clarance?”
“It means your son walked away with thousands of dollars that did not belong to him. He’s working hard to cover it up, but I have it all right here.”
Judge Waters looked anxious when he asked, “So the school is filing charges?”
“No, because the trees and a large contribution made it to the school.”
“They just don’t know how much money was actually collected.”
“Correct.”
“So, how did this make it to your office?”
He pulled another sheet of paper out and two sets of pictures. “I received an anonymous email about your son taking bribes from all over the state. From there, I called you. And then I started watching his every move, so it wasn’t hard to find out the stunt he pulled at the fundraiser. Also, after doing some light detective work, I tracked down the sender’s IP of that anonymous email.” Clarence handed one of the pictures to Keenan Sr. “It came from him. His name is—”
“Author Gugliemelli! I know that scumbag. He’s been a part of so many investigations, but they can’t get anything to stick to him.”
“Well, that might be about to change. When I discovered who sent the email, I started digging more. That’s when I found her.” This time Clarance handed Keenan Sr. a picture of Faith.
“Who is she?”
“Her name is Faith Price-McKnight. They used to work together, and unfortunately, they are off into a lot.” As Keenan Sr. looks at Faith, Clarance says, “She orchestrated a bribe that will send your son and his family to the Virgin Islands.”
Keenan Sr. said, “What?! He wouldn’t do that.”
“Yes, he would, and he did.”
“I don’t get it . . . And why would Author Gugliemelli send you that email?”
“I don’t have an answer for that part, Keenan. But, you know how it goes; the cheater feels cheated and decides to throw the whole organization. And then there is—”
“Lock him up.”
Clarances’ eyebrows furred together. “What was that?”
“You heard me. Take the Hamilton Elementary documentation only, but change the amount he took to five thousand dollars and not a penny over. Get the locals involved only. Charge him, but don’t book him.”
“If I do that, I can’t stop PD from picking him up.”
“I know. Let them grab him, but Clarance, no marshalls, no FEDS. Have PD snatch him from his home, but don’t fingerprint him when he gets to the station. No mugshots, and don’t let him make any calls. Oh, and make sure he looks decent, so take a black suit with you, size 42R. White shirt, no tie, black pocketsquare. If he has on sweats, make sure that suit makes it into the police department with him. Then, when I pick him up, he’ll walk out of there with me like he’s leaving work after hours, not jail.”
“Keenan, I’m not following.”
“Tomorrow night, I want to scare that son-of-a-bitch; teach him a goddamn lesson.”
“A lesson? If I file charges against him, it will be real. I would have no way to resend it.”
“But I can.” Keenan Sr. confidentially said, “ Call me the minute he’s there. I’ll come, grab him and his file, and it’ll be as if it never happened.” Judge Waters blew air from his jaws when he admitted, “I just had to dissolve a case for my out-of-control daughter, and now this.”
Clarance is about to ask what Naomi did, but the look on Judge Waters’s face says he shouldn’t. “Fine, Keenan, but please get to the jail when I call you. I can only do so much.”
They both stand with Clarance about to leave. “Come on, Clarance, where else would I be?” They shake hands again. “I got it all under control, my friend, and relax. The only one that should be worried right now is my son.”
When Keenan Sr.’s cell phone starts to ring, he tells Clarance he’ll talk to him tomorrow night. He then picks up the call. It’s Mia. “Hello, sweetheart.”
Mia sounds slightly agitated. “You finally took my call; how thoughtful of you.”
He assures her, “Honey, I promise I’m almost there. Remember, we’re leaving for Kannon’s birthday tomorrow night.”
“You’ve already told Kannon you’re coming, so you have to show up, Keenan.”
“Mia, I would never lie to my son.”
“What about his mother?”
“Baby, just one more day, and things between us return to how they were.” When the reminder buzz comes from his laptop, he tells Mia, “I have to go. I have court in less than fifteen minutes.”
“Tomorrow night, Judge. Not next weekend or the weekend after that. You told Kannon tomorrow-night.”
“Mia, after tomorrow night, you and Kannon won’t be able to get rid of me.”
Mia giggled. “Just the way we like it.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, Judge. Bye.”
When Keenan Sr. hangs up, he sits there before he gets up and heads out. “One more day, Mia, and then we’ll be together, but first, I’m going to teach my son a lesson that he will never forget . . .”
32
Naomi
Naomi headed up to the register in Bloomingdale’s after she finished shopping. She has an interview at the end of the week at the Trademark office for a patent examiner. After finding the position on Indeed, she quickly applied. Naomi took the first opening when they called her for an interview. She didn’t want to live off her parents any longer because she was tired of the control and manipulation, especially from her mother.
She’s trying to get focused on what’s important and not worry about Lillian, or her biggest stressor, Jace. Naomi’s been trying not to think about him as much but can’t help herself. She loves and wants a piece of him but not this way. She doesn’t want to be his baby mama, but here she is, carrying his child while he’s with someone else. She hasn’t talked to him or Tia since Tia showed up at her house, which was good because she had nothing else to say to them.
Naomi laid the pink open-front crop jacket and body con skirt in front of the woman behind the register. She had more than enough new clothes at home, with the tags still on them, but she wanted something else, so she grabbed a suit, blouse, shoes, and cute little clear pendant for effect.
When the woman said, “Your total will be $1615.09,” Naomi taped her debit card on the machine in front of the register and put it away. When the store clerk asked her to try it again, Naomi thought, Yeah, okay, lady, whatever, just hurry up! She tapped it again, but it didn’t work. She inserted it, hell, she even tried swiping the card, and it still didn’t work. Naomi thought, why the hell is my card declining? When the woman asked if she could use another card, Naomi gave her the oddest look as if to ask why? But she didn’t bother checking the woman about their system not taking her card; she just pulled out one of her other cards, but her Citi card declined, and her Black card did too. Even her Cash App card was declined. Naomi was becoming angry and a little desperate. She could not turn around and leave without her stuff. That would be too embarrassing, so she thought, oh, my God, one of these cards better work!
Naomi said, “Hold on,” and quickly pulled out her Apple credit card. She knew that one would go through. It has a ten thousand dollar credit limit she’s never touched. When Naomi taped that one, the same thing happened. Declined. She had tried every card in her wallet with a mini line of women forming behind her. She prayed, God, please let one of these cards work! But none did.
Her voice shook when she asked the woman to take the shoes off. She then swiped the gift card her unthoughtful daddy gave her on her last birthday. It had a thousand dollars on it, and thankfully, it worked. So she grabbed the pink suit, white blouse, and that cheap-ass clear pendant and hightailed it out of there. She had never been so humiliated in her entire life!
As Naomi marches to her car, she calls her mother because her name is all over this. When she taps Lillian’s name from her call list, she hears: “Welcome to Verizon Wireless, to be transferred to an external operator—” Naomi knew what that message meant; she just never thought it would be coming from her phone. She shrieks, “YOU BITCH!” Then, right as she was curing her mother out, her phone rang.
“HELLO!”
Lillian sounds so calm and sweet. “Hi, Naomi.”
Naomi huffed, “Turn my credit cards back on, ALL OF THEM! And stop fucking with my checking account that doesn’t have your name on it, and . . . and . . .” Naomi stops in mid-sentence.
“And what, darling?”
It took Naomi a minute to catch her breath as she looked at a Buick parked in the handicapped spot by the door. That’s where she was parked. She quickly hit the keyfob on her keyring, thinking maybe she was in the wrong location, but she got nothing as she pressed the button repeatedly. “MAMA, WHERE IS MY CAR?! I SWEAR TO GOD, I WILL—”
“YOU WILL DO WHAT THE HELL I TELL YOU TO DO!” After yelling back at Naomi, Lillian returned her voice to calm and sweet. “Now, sweetheart, stop yelling at me and talk like you got some goddamn sense because if I hang up, you’ll be on the pay phone for your next call.”
“What did you do to my phone? To my car? Why are you in my life?”
“Because I can be. I am your mother, and when I tell you to do something, you do it.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Did you go to Planned Parenthood like I told you to do?”
Naomi snapped, “Yes, I did!” still holding shopping bags in the parking lot.
“And then what? What happened when you and Saint Kenny were there?”
“How did you know Saint . . . he told you?”
“Saint Kenny didn’t tell me anything. I hadn’t talked to him besides when he disowned all of us because he was mad at his brother.”
