Bury Me Deep by Roy Glenn

Author:Roy Glenn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: supense thrillers
Publisher: Roy Glenn

Chapter Nine

After a night of making love all over their suite, Black and CeCe passed out on the bed. Their sleep was interrupted by the annoying intrusion of the telephone ringing.

“Black,” CeCe said, still half asleep.

“What?”

“The phone.”

“You get it. You’re closer.”

CeCe picked up the phone and shoved it at Black. “It ain’t for me.”

“Hello.”

“Let me talk to CeCe,” Jamaica said.

“Right.” Black handed the phone back to CeCe. “It’s for you.”

“Who is it?”

“It’s Jamaica.”

“For me?”

“Yes. He wants to talk to you,” he said and rolled over.

CeCe sat up in the bed. “Hello.”

“Good morning, sunshine,” Jamaica started. “Do you have any plans for the day?”

“Nothing special. Why?”

“I have taken it ’pon me self to arrange an introduction with the ladies I speak with you ’bout.”

“The designers, right?”

“Exactly.”

CeCe glanced at the clock by the bed. “What time are we talking about?”

“Anytime you say. They are at your disposal.”

“Let’s say two then.”

“I will come ’round ’bout two and carry you to they shop. Tell Mike that I have something for him to see while you chat with the ladies,” Jamaica said.

As promised, Jamaica picked them up at two and took Black, CeCe and Kevon to Port Lucaya to the shop. After introducing CeCe to the ladies, Jamaica tapped Black on the shoulder. “Come. I want you to see something. I will leave Alan with her to be sure no harm befall her, and take her back to the hotel when they are done,” he said as Black and Kevon followed him outta the dress shop.

“So, what you got to show me, Jay?”

“Come, you see.”

“This better not be some Jacara shit,” Black cautioned as they walked.

“No, no, not’ing at all like that. But her know you are on the rock and you are here with another woman.”

“How does she know that?”

“Jacara have many friends ’round.”

“How’d you find out she knows?” Black asked, thinking that this was exactly why he needed to keep CeCe off the island.

“She call me late night some time after you leave the restaurant at the hotel.”

“What you tell her?”

“I tell her I don’t know what she talkin’ ’bout.”

Black laughed. “What she say to that?”

“Her call me a liar and hung up the phone,” Jamaica said as they arrived at the dock to one of the boat tour spots he had taken over. Along with a few of Jamaica’s men, there was an older man with a cane seated there, talking shit with the rest of them. Black recognized him as soon as he saw him. His name was Harold Elgin. Black had known Mr. El-gin for years. During the days when he was a number runner back in New York before circumstances forced him to return home to Freeport. He had recently had a stroke and the last time Black was on the island, there was talk that he wasn’t doing that good.

The moment Mr. Elgin saw Black come through the door, he rose to his feet. “Mr. Black,” he said as Black shook his hand.

“Mr. Elgin!” Black said. Obviously glad to see him.

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