"It's been three months since the former CEO's death. Why has it taken so long to announce you as her successor? And are divers still searching for the body of Lisette Lee Reynolds Johnson?"
"What ties does your family have to reported drug cartel boss Vladimir Gonzalez?"
"Is it true Vladimir Gonzalez is the long lost son of the Grand Ma-ma?"
"Is it true Lisette is responsible for the kidnappings of her own children and the subsequent murder of her first cousin Roxanne?"
"Does your family have ties to Mexican drug cartels and is it true the US government has seized many of the company's overseas assets?"
"How has Lisette's death affected the family business? Is it true you are being forced to restructure due to poor sales and massive amounts of debt?"
"Is it true Lance Johnson reportedly dead and now presumed alive is missing again?"
"Is it true you are personally under investigation for money laundering and tax evasion?"
"Several members of your family are Chicago police officers, aldermen, and women. Has this had any impact on how the city is being run?"
On and on the questions, innuendo and rumors persist. Nadine has no intention of addressing any of them.
*****
"You really think your wife is dead?" Lance's cousin Terrence asks, in between hits on an expertly rolled, weed filled blunt."She's not my wife. We're divorced," Lance mumbles staring intently at the dusty television set sitting haphazardly on top of a red milk crate.
"They say," inhale, "that helicopter she was riding in smacked into the middle of the ocean and broke in a million pieces. Can't nobody survive that man, especially no skinny broad like your wife. I remember seeing her once. I think I was downtown on a corner peddling something. She was walking by snarling, looking all evil."
Lance absently caresses the severely scarred side of his face, trying to gather his thoughts which was proving to be quite difficult with his cousin's weed-induced ramblings. And as much as he tries to forget her, Lance can do little to stop his mind from thinking of Devra. A pregnant Devra. Pregnant with that scheming bastard's child.
"I think she's dead man. Nobody can survive a helicopter crash in the middle of the damn ocean, especially a skinny broad like her," Terrence repeats between hits, his eyelids heavy with highness.
"The lake dude. It's called Lake Michigan," Lance mumbles watching Nadine Lee Fletcher smile for the cameras. Another pretty devil in designer clothes.
"Lake, ocean, whatever. It's all god's water man. Sharks have chewed that skinny-booty up! They ain't going to find no body, no bones, no hair weave, nothing."
Lance shakes his head, "The devil don't die."
"Well bitches do and that one is dead in the water yo!"
****
Devra lays on her back in bed, watching her cousin Nadine's impeccable image on the wall mounted wide screed television. As is her normal Nadine is dressed to the nines, clearly loving every second of her new-found power, fame and unimaginable fortune. Devra is furious. "I should be standing there! Not you!" Devra cries out to the empty bedroom. Absently she rubs her growing belly, unconsciously taking another humongous spoonful of ben and jerry's cherry garcia ice cream. She's never liked cherries a day in her miserable fat life and here she is chomping away adding yet another inch to her increasingly expanding 250 pound frame. How in the world would she ever get this weight off this time. She'd practically need to be beat in the head again with a pistol. With Lisette dead, what were the chances of that happening? Lisette, dead. Please. Whoever believed that was a fool for real. Her sister is alive somewhere sipping on a cocktail, snorting a line. At least now Devra would be off her radar. Nadine better enjoy all the glory while it lasts. Devra laughs out loud. Lisette dead. Yeah, right.
****
"Every family endures challenges. Ours is no exception. As the new Chief Executive Officer of Lee-Reynolds Enterprises it is my responsibility to make certain there is no uncertainty. Make no mistake, we are a multi-billion dollar family-owned business and continue to be the leader in skin care and day spa technologies. In addition to our news and media outlets, hotels, boutiques, premium vodka and whiskey brands, our luxury perfumery, custom leather goods and our most recently launched designer jewelry and home fabric labels, and despite a floundering economy, our company has and continues to exceed quarterly sale expectations for all our lines of business."There is no other company like ours in the world. We are not just a business but a family through blood, sweat, and more blood. We are our shareholders, therefore we answer to no one other than ourselves and the clients who love us. As CEO my clearest focus is and will continue to be superb quality, and continued growth and expansion across the globe. As a minority-controlled enterprise, we view any and all challenges as God's sweet whispers, because the devil is a lie just as your questions are lies. None of which will be answered with the truth since it is clear to me that is not what is important to any of you. Thank you all for coming here today. And as always we so greatly appreciate your sincere interest in our work." Nadine nods to no one in particular, continuing to smile broadly before exiting the podium with the elegance and grace of a dancer. The crowd of reporters watch in temporary stunned and confused silence as Nadine Lee Fletcher click-clops towards a private elevator, literally shielded by a heavily-armed security team. Within seconds clips of the unusual press conference are viewed by thousands on YouTube, and a remix of her sweet-as-caramel laced words; "the devil is a lie just as your questions are lies..." soon become an itune favorite.
***
In the crowded distance Mason Truce watches Nadine exit the podium. He shakes his head slightly, arms folded across an Armani-clad chest. "That was interesting," he says to an ever-present Tiny by his side.
"Do you think she knows anything?" Tiny whispers, his lips barely moving.
"She knows everything there is to know. That's why we're here," Mason Truce smiles slightly, more determined than ever to find his children, including the two that are not biologically his.
***
Suddenly Lance Jonhson jumps up leaning closer to the television having caught glimpse of Mason Truce in the crowd of reporters following Nadine Fletcher's worthless news conference.
"I know that crazy yellow mofo," Terrence mumbles through smoke stained dark brown chapped lips . "Chason Truce. Mean. That's the meanest yellow man I know."
"You mean Mason Truce the attorney?" Lance asks, feeling something in the pit of his stomach shift slightly.
"I don't know no Mason. I said Chason. Chason Truce. Me and him hung out in Cali for a minute. He ain't even supposed to be out yet. Mean, murdering bastard."
"You hung out with Mason Truce in the state of California?"
"Man, you ain't hearing me. I said Chason. And I mean 26th street. The County jail fool. Ain't nobody been to California. I ain't never even been on a damn airplane. Look here, this may not be the Hilton, but you gonna have to pay some rent dude. Plus a fugitive fee."
***
Trash is back! Thank you for reading this new episode. If you have any questions or need any clarification on characters and what have you, kindly include them in the comment section below. Let's get a conversation started.
Wow, it feels wonderful to be back.
xoxo,
Veda
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