Slipping Into Darkness Read online

  He paused as if for dramatic effect, then sniffed his glass like a connoisseur. He swished wine on his tongue and assumed a judicial expression as he slowly sipped from an amber wine goblet. He finally spoke. “Samaria told me your name.”

  “What is your name?”

  “Escobar. You’re a bold woman.” He paused. “I like that in a woman.”

  I didn’t answer. I tried to hide any signs of fear. This was something I’d learn to do well over the years. What was he planning to do with me? Would they torture me or would it be a quick death?

  “So you’re David aka Big Homie’s sister?”

  “I thought you wanted to do business with Mayhem–I mean Big Homie.”

  “I was, but he has something that belongs to me. I have it back now. Tell him I don’t want to do business with a thief.”

  “What does he have that belongs to you?”

  “He had Samaria–well, you all knew her as Appolonia. Even with the facial reconstruction she’s had, I’d know her anywhere. But now I have her back.”

  “Why do you feel he took your woman? You were before his time.”

  “No, you tell your brother this woman is mine.” He took a flat hand and pounded his chest. “I raised this girl from a wee girl.” He held his hand low like about age ten. “I’m no short eyes, though. I waited until she became a woman at thirteen before I made her mine. I popped her cherry. And you know what they say. You never forget your first. She loves me. She came back to me. I’m willing to forgive her and take her back. She was under duress when she turned state’s evidence with me. She will always be mine.”

  I didn’t answer. Did he mean to send me back to the States? I felt a glimmer of hope.

  “My lieutenant has an eye for you. He says you’re the finest piece of chocolate woman he’s ever seen or tasted.”

  My throat constricted and turned dry as a cotton ball. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  “That means you’ll get a little reprieve. You know I could have my men kill you, but if you make my lieutenant happy ... we’ll see. Relax. Trust me.” Both of his arms were crossed, indicating he was lying. I just held my face straight.

  Trust you? Hah!

  I sat and stared at the smug look on his face. He was playing with me like a lion playing with a mouse–until he got ready for the kill.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  I had to think fast. First, I knew I needed some food. I couldn’t fight back on an empty stomach. I couldn’t even think clearly. My stomach was growling and I was feeling weaker by the moment. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning. The potion the Santera made had acted as a laxative so I was emptied out.

  “I’d like something to eat, sir, if it’s all right with you.” I tried to humble my voice the way I saw Appolonia work the police officer. In fact, how she was able to keep this sociopath from killing her after she sent him to prison showed the girl had skills.

  “Yes, you must eat. We got plans for you.”

  I nodded affably, pretending to go along with his program. The best thing is to twist the facts to your advantage. “Gracias,” I said, using some of my Spanish.

  “Okay,” Escobar said. “So you speak Spanish.”

  “A little.”

  He snapped his fingers and a rotund woman with two long rope braids crisscrossing her head and a portly waddle appeared. “Matilda, bring the lady some breakfast.”

  Escobar watched in silence as I gulped down a breakfast of pineapples, avocado, mangoes, kiwis, and plantains. I drank almost a gallon of water with a squeeze of lemon from a jade pitcher. My stomach started feeling more settled. I felt my strength return.

  “Thank you for your kindness. I’d like to take a bath before I meet the lieutenant. What is his name?”

  “Alfredo. You’re welcome for the breakfast. Mi casa es su casa. Matilda, take her to the bathroom.” He snapped his fingers and two of his henchmen appeared. They both were armed with nine millimeters.

  “Go to the bathroom with her while she cleans up. Get her some of Appolonia’s clothes and get her some shoes.”

  The men nodded, then accompanied me, at gunpoint, to the bathroom.

  As I sat in the large sunken tub filled with hot water, I soaped away the filth oozing from my body and I thought of Romero and I cried. I’d never cheated on him since I’d been with him, as his woman, and, although I was drugged, I hated the thought of another man’s hands, let alone body parts, fondling or being in or on my body. This was Romero’s “diamond” as he called my sex parts.

  I thought back to how I didn’t value my body when I was young. Although I was a virgin until I was nineteen (thanks to Shirley’s close supervision), when I was almost gang raped at eighteen, I didn’t really understand the repercussions of sexual assault.

  At the time, I was willing to give up my virginity rather than give my three assailants my money. True, I was concerned with keeping my money so I could buy gifts for my baby brother and sister who were in foster care at the time. Although I scared the guys off, telling them I was HIV positive, I think what really scared them off was when Romero came along and rescued me. I thought about Romero and a pang went through my soul. Would I ever see him again? This man was the best man I’d ever had.

  I didn’t know where my iPhone was so I couldn’t try to contact anyone. I only had the amulet the Santera gave me, but what good was it doing me?

  I looked around the room for something I could use as a weapon. I found a long hairpin and unbent it. I stuck it in my hair, which I was glad I’d let grow out so it was hidden. I wondered where Appolonia was in this big house. The way Escobar acted so smug and self-satisfied, she obviously was not in harm’s way at this moment.

  I put on the long red dress with a split on the side and the golden sandals, which I assumed were Appolonia’s. Although she was shorter than me, since I’d trimmed down the dress to fit me. However, the dress came just below my calves, when it should have been floor-length.

  Afterward, the two sentry guards marched me to my room and roughly pushed me inside. I heard the door lock behind me. I double checked and it was definitely locked. Bars enclosed the full-length room windows, so I was trapped.

  I sat and scanned the room. I was glad that they did not tie me up again. I studied the four poster bed to see how they had tied me up. Next, I checked the sheets. I didn’t see any evidence of sexual activity, so I wondered why I’d felt sore down there. I thought about it. My clothes were still on when I woke up. What was going on? The bedroom floor was made from a terra cotta ceramic tile and I didn’t find any loose tiles where I could maybe find a way out.

  Then I thought of my more immediate priority. How was I ever going to get out this mess? I still had the amulet–the ankh. I rubbed it and hoped this voodoo mess worked. No way was I going to be given to some man I didn’t know, and be conscious, in my right mind. What kind of patriarchal society was this? As far as women had come, it still boiled down to we could easily become victims because of our sexuality. We could still be raped, murdered, or exploited.

  Suddenly I remembered my teacher, Miss Golden’s, program, “I’m Not Your Victim.” Then and there I decided I was not going to be a victim if I could help it. That’s how I came up with a plan.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  A few hours later, a soft knock came at the heavy oak door.

  “Who is it?” I asked seductively.

  “It’s Alfredo.” The door slowly cracked opened. An elderly Hispanic male sauntered in. He was neatly dressed in a smoke jacket, a tie, and navy linen serge slacks. He wore his curly hair pulled back and it ended at the nape of his neck. His hair had thinned in the crown and he had liver spots on his hands. He was sepia colored and could pass for just about any race under the sun.

  “I’m Alfredo. Thank you for receiving me.” His English was halting, but clear. He could have been any normal business man, but this man held my life in his hands.

  I smiled, trying to hide my revulsion. I thought of
the geisha girls in Arthur Golden’s book, Memoirs of a Geisha, and I remembered the girls at The Kitty Kat Koliseum. The power of the “P.” Women held the power. We just had to play our cards right.

  I smiled, pretending to be shy. “You seem tense. Would you like to sit down and talk?”

  There was a table and chair in the room in the corner.

  “Sure. Would you like a drink?” he asked. He was soft-spoken.

  “No. I don’t do alcohol anymore. I’d like a cup of tea though.”

  He went back to the door and had Matilda order tea. Matilda returned with hot tea in two china cups on a tray.

  “Well, I’m a business man, and I’ll get right to the point. You’re the type of woman I’d love to have at my side. I saw you dancing at the Carnival and I loved the way you moved. You seem like a woman with a lot of nerve, too. I mean the way you tried to kidnap my boss’s woman ...”

  “What kind of business would you like me to do?”

  “You could fly in and out the United States and help transport our product. You won’t want for nothing. I have a mansion as big as Escobar’s. I will make you a rich woman. Oprah won’t have nothing on you.”

  He pulled out a key and opened a window. The window opened to a balcony with granite balustrades. He took his hand and showed me the mountains, the ocean, and the large neighboring mansions.

  I didn’t answer. I got up and started dancing a slow samba around the room. I did a slow voluptuous sway, then I’d take a few mincing steps.

  I watched Alfredo’s eyes widen. He unloosened his tie, and he began to lick his lips salaciously.

  “Did you touch me last night?” I asked, giving him a playful wink, as if I had enjoyed it. I threw my hip suggestively toward him. I pivoted and swiveled my pelvis in the samba move.

  “No, but I tasted you. I can’t wait to get inside of you now. Your lips look like plums down there and you’re as sweet as a mango.”

  Okay, no wonder I felt funny down there. No wonder my clothes were still on. I got sickened at the idea of his old behind touching me that intimately, but I hid my aversion. I continued dancing slowly, sensuously, until he had eased off his slacks and his shirt. I could see his small erection standing out through his shorts. I also noted his gun in the pants. Alfredo took long strides and climbed on the bed. I kept dancing.

  “Give it to me, baby,” he crooned. He patted the pillow and the sheet. He started talking dirty in Spanish. I made out his words. “Come to me, mamacita. Come to papi.”

  “Close your eyes,” I cooed seductively.

  As soon as Alfredo closed his eyes, I grabbed his nine millimeter gun and got the drop on him. I held it on him while his eyes were still closed.

  I took the bobby pin and stuck it in his acupuncture point in his neck. Next, I tossed the hot tea on him, splashing his face and his chest. I pulled the gun and cocked it.

  He jumped up off the bed, screaming like a laughing hyena. He grabbed the sheet and was trying to cool off.

  “Shut up hollering like a woman or I’ll throw another cup on you. This is what you get for taking my sex when I was drugged.”

  “I’m sorry, but you looked so sexy. I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Oh, the devil made you do it. You keep talking about that shit, I’ll kill you on GP. Now where is Appolonia–I mean, Samaria?”

  He hesitated.

  “Oh, do I have to put a cap in your ass for you to talk?”

  His eyes became saucers. He sputtered out, “She’s in the room at the end of the hall.”

  “Do you have a key?”

  “No.” I cocked the gun again, this time pointing at his little johnson.

  He threw both hands up in surrender. He sure didn’t want to lose his manhood. “Okay. Okay. Yes, I have it. It’s in my pants pocket.”

  I fished into his pants pocket and found the key. “Is this it?”

  He nodded, still glaring at me. Next, I tied Alfredo up with the same rope they’d used on me and gagged his mouth with his own tie. I could see the burn beginning to peel on the left side of his face. It was just a first- or second-degree burn, I decided. His nostrils flared in rage. Although his mouth was muffled, I could make out his words. “I’ma kill you, bitch, when I get free.”

  “You can lay the pipe on your own self,” I quipped over my shoulder. I peeked out the room and didn’t see the guards. I kept the gun cocked, and tiptoed down the long hallway. I made it to the door at the end. I took the key and turned it. I found Appolonia alone inside. She was not tied up, and she seemed to be searching the room.

  “Zipporah?” She seemed surprised to see me. “How did you get away? I’m so sorry about everything.”

  “Do you have the money for Mayhem’s release ?” I went straight to the point. This was the reason I’d come to Rio in the first place. If she was really telling the truth, she’d help me get away.

  “Yes, it’s in this account.” Appolonia got down on the floor and lifted a floorboard. She reached in and handed me a flash drive. “The password is on there too. You can transfer the money to whatever account the kidnappers want.”

  “What happened to the drugs?”

  “There were never any drugs. Escobar just wanted to get me back.”

  I looked at her incredulously. “Come again?”

  “He staged this buy and acted like he was going to be a connect for David. He’d changed his name and I thought it would be safe to come back to say good-bye to my mother and hello to my daughter.”

  I shook my head. This was deep. “Do you want to stay here?”

  “I want to see my mother before she closes her eyes in death. I’d like to see the baby I left behind when I left this place. From there ... I don’t know.”

  “You know this is putting your life at risk, don’t you?”

  “When you helped Mayhem, didn’t you realize you were putting your life on the line?”

  I thought about it. That was so true. But what could you do when it was your loved ones? I didn’t answer her question.

  “Come on. Pick up your speed. We don’t have much time. Do you know where the guards are?”

  “After the Carnival, they’re having a big meeting. Some big deal they want to do. They only have a skeleton crew back at the hacienda.”

  “Do you know how to get out of here without us being seen?”

  “Yes. He has shown me all over this house, to let me see how big he is–even living larger than he was when I was a teenager. There’s an underground passage in the cellar, which lets you out three miles away from here.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  As we stealthily eased down the steps, for each creak in the floorboards, in every shadow, I saw Escobar or one of his goons, but it was only my imagination. Everyone, except for a few sentry guards left in the front yard, had gone back out to the Carnival. Appolonia said she overheard they were going to have a meeting afterward. I guess Alfredo had been left alone to have his way with me.

  We finally managed to get down the back kitchen stairs to the cellar with no problem. Once we eased down the basement stairs, Appolonia showed the way to a dusty carved wood door in the back of a wine cellar, and it opened to an old-fashioned underground tunnel.

  We ran for almost a half hour through this darkened damp tunnel until we emerged into a light green and yellow rolling savannah. Acacia trees and shrubs dotted this grassland. Monarch butterflies floated on the wind. A few straggling stray cows grazed in the distance.

  “How close are we to the nearest town?” I asked. I shaded my eyes and tried to block the sun glare. Judging from the position of the sun, it was about noon.

  “It’s about five miles away. We can catch a cab to the hospice from there.”

  “I’ve got to get back to your grandmother’s to get my ticket and get back to the States.” I was relieved to know I had the money to free Mayhem, but now the next problem was how to get out of Rio alive.

  “Once we get to town, I’ll call my grandmother and tell her
to bring your belongings over to the hospice.”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you okay, Z?” Appolonia asked.

  I paused. The old, pre-AA treatment me would have said, “I’m fine.” But I didn’t lie. “No, I’m messed up, but we’ve got to keep it moving before these fools get back. Alfredo’s last words were he was going to kill me.”

  I decided to flip the script and interrogate Appolonia as we pushed our way through the tall grass.

  “I asked you, did you want to stay here?”

  “No. But I want to see my mother and my daughter. For this reason, I can’t go back with you. I’ve got to stay–for now.”

  “Escobar may kill you. Are you sleeping with him again?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry but I had to make him think I still love him.”

  “The Santera says he’s put a curse on you.”

  “I don’t believe in that old mess. That’s my grandmother’s thing.”

  “Well, what do you believe in?”

  “What do I believe?” she repeated rhetorically. “I believe in money.”

  “Is money your God?”

  “It’s the God of America. Shit. Money’s the God of the world. Look at how everyone goes crazy when the stock market crashes globally. People give you respect when you have money. I don’t care. I come from nothing and I know I like it when I have money. I promised myself when I was a young girl I would not stay poor, no matter what it took.”

  “So you’re willing to sell your soul to the highest bidder?”

  Appolonian didn’t answer. She finally spoke up. “If anything happens to me, please help raise my boys.”

  “If he doesn’t kill you, do you plan to come back and get them?”

  “I don’t know. Where are they?”

  “I had my mother get them out of L.A. She’s taking them someplace safe.”

  “Thank you so much. I love my boys.”

  “Anyhow, I understand only one is your biological son. Why do you have the other two boys? Didn’t their mothers want them?”