A Kiss Before the End

by Roy Glenn

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

Roy Glenn returns with his bestselling Mike Black saga, which has continued to excite readers for two decades.

When a member of his crew is seen in the Bahamas, where he has no business and may be involved in a murder, Carter Garrison looks into the matter. Along the way, he meets Gianna Matisse. She came to Knuckles gambling spot with one of their regulars and had been coming there nightly without him. Carter tells his people that he wants to know everything about her—and not just because she’s beautiful. Her being a ghost might represent a threat to The Family.

As The Family prepares to go to war with the Italians, Carter finds out her true intentions. When he agrees to help her, Black cautions him to remember: “Our priority remains the Montanaris.” 

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

One year ago …

Channel 4 news anchor Carmen Taylor heard that a friend of hers has died of sudden arrhythmic death syndrome, which is an unexpected death from cardiac arrest that occurs when the heart stops pumping blood, preventing breathing, and depriving the brain of oxygen. Carmen attended the funeral.

She had moved back to New York after she filed for divorce from her husband, Marcus Douglas. Although Carmen loved him, she wanted a divorce because he was never home. That, and she believed that he was having an affair with his law partner, Tiffanie Powers.

The straw that broke her back was one night when Carmen and Marcus had made plans to go out after she got off work. When she called him, Marcus was still at the office and had utterly forgotten that they had plans.

“I’m sorry, Carmen. I promise to be home as soon as possible.”

Because of his commitment to his work, Carmen knew not to expect him anytime soon. She hung up the phone and looked around the studio.

This is my life now. A job I hate, and I have a husband that I love but never see, she thought.

Carmen was about to quit her job and call her lawyer, but she called Jada West instead and said that she was coming to visit her in Nassau. She and Carmen went to dinner at the Graycliff Restaurant, a five-star dining establishment that served continental cuisine with a Bahamian twist. Over John Watling’s Single Barrel Rum, the two drinking buddies chatted about the circumstances that Carmen found herself in.

“You know, I hate to be in this position, but I did tell you that this was going to happen,” Jada said.

Carmen laughed. “I know, and then you said, and when it does happen, don’t come running to you, but here I am anyway.” She paused. “I love Marcus with all my heart, but I’m bored with our marriage, and I hate my job.”

“I think you should take a trip with me, perhaps go to Spain,” Jada said, taking a sip of her cocktail.

“I like the sound of that.” Carmen sat up a little straighter and leaned forward. “Where were you thinking about going?”

“I was thinking about us going to Barcelona, Spain.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Jada said. Unfortunately, the trip to Spain did not materialize because after what was supposed to be a quick stop in New York, the murder of actor Mason Grant changed their well-laid plans, and Carmen immediately thrust herself into investigator mode. She called Ethan White, her producer at the station in Atlanta, and acted like she was reluctant to cover the biggest story of the year because she was on her way to Spain with Jada.

“I understand, Carmen. But if you do this for me, David has already authorized me to cover any charges incurred in rescheduling or cancellation, and he said you can take another two weeks off if you do this for me. What do you say?”

“Two more weeks, and if I want to come out from behind the anchor desk to cover a story, I have his blessing?”

Ethan agreed to Carmen’s terms, and she covered the story. And then the offer came.

“I will pay you twice whatever they are paying you in Atlanta to come back to New York, Carmen. The anchor chair is yours if you want it.” Which she did not. “And we’ll give you the freedom and the resources to make Carmen Taylor Reports what you really want it to be.”

“In-depth investigative journalism?”

“In-depth investigative journalism.” Dan nodded in agreement. “I wanna make you the face of this station without putting you in the anchor chair. And once you and I define what that looks like, you will have the freedom and the resources to make it what you want it to be and what I need it to be.”

Carmen accepted the offer, quit her job in Atlanta, and filed for a divorce from Marcus. When she returned to the city, Dan was as good as his word, and they defined what Carmen wanted the position to be. Since she did not like being in the studio, chained to the anchor desk all the time, and wanted to cover the stories that were important to her, Carmen would anchor the news from various locations depending on the story that she was investigating.

The funeral for Carmen’s friend was to be held at The Abyssinian Baptist Church on West 138th Street in Harlem. That day, Carmen sat next to a woman named Victoria Howard. After staring at Carmen for a while, she could no longer contain her question.

“You’re Carmen Taylor, aren’t you?”

Carmen turned to the woman. “Yes, I am,” she admitted.

Victoria held out her hand. “I’m Victoria Howard.” She giggled softly. “I’m a big fan. So, it’s such an honor to meet you.”

“Good to meet you too, Victoria.”

She looked around, and then Victoria leaned close to Carmen and whispered. “We know some of the same people.”

“Do we really? Who would that be?” Carmen asked eagerly; however, she was unprepared for the answer.

“Mike Black, Bobby Ray, and Carter Garrison.”

“Oh,” Carmen said in surprise. She looked around, and then Carmen leaned close to Victoria. “Do you mind if I ask how you know Mr. Black, Mr. Ray, and Mr. Garrison?”

She leaned closer. “I work for Carter Garrison. He’s my captain. I dance at Club Envy.”

“Oh,” Carmen said, and was a little put off. Carmen looked at the beautiful woman sitting next to her. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but why are you dancing at Envy? With your looks and that body, you could be doing a lot more,” she said softly. Carmen leaned closer to Victoria. “How old are you?”

“I’m 21.”

“You could be doing a whole lot more with your life other than dancing,” Carmen said as the service began.

“Almighty God, we rejoice in your promise of love, joy, and peace. In your mercy, turn the darkness of death into the dawn of new life and the sorrow of parting into the joy of heaven; Amen.”

“We’ll talk later.” Carmen leaned close to Victoria. “Are you doing anything after the service?”

“Nothing. Why do you ask?” she inquired excitedly. Not only was Carmen Taylor talking to her, but now it also seemed that she wanted to get together after the service.

“Let’s go somewhere and have something to eat because I’m starving, and talk about it.”

“I would love to,” she replied enthusiastically.

Over a late lunch at The Bleu Room Restaurant & Lounge, Carmen talked to Victoria, who danced under the name Vixen, about a career in modeling over oxtail and jerk chicken. Carmen shared some of her experiences and how she had to change her life to get where she is now. She gave her the number of Calvin Clark, her old modeling agent. Then she called to see if he was free for an introduction. He told her that he was doing a show that night and told them to come to the presentation. After the show, Carmen introduced Victoria to Calvin.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Clark.”

“Don’t talk. I just wanna see you walk,” he said without so much as glancing in her direction, and he pointed to the stage.

Victoria nodded and stepped up and out onto the runway. While Calvin and Carmen looked on, Victoria walked.

“She walks like a stripper,” Calvin commented.

Carmen giggled. “That’s because it’s what she does. She dances at Club Envy.”

“And it shows.”

Victoria stopped walking.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he said, motioning with his hand for her to keep walking. He leaned closer to Carmen, whispering, “She’s beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous.”

“I told you.”

“Great legs. But that dress is too big, and it is totally wrong for her,” he said of the white, high-low gown she was wearing. Calvin leaned closer to Carmen, but he kept his eyes on Victoria as she continued to walk. “It’s your dress, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I thought so. But those shoes are hers, right?” Calvin asked about the leather lace-up wrap sandals that Victoria was wearing.

Carmen laughed aloud. “You’ve known me long enough to know I don’t let people wear my shoes.” Her body shook in disgust. “Repulsive.”

“I know that’s right.”

“So, what do you think?”

Calvin was interested in Victoria. He thought that she had potential and agreed to train her and see where it goes from there. Over the next six months, she juggled working at the club and training for her first show. It was months of walking before he thought she was ready to wear designer clothes.

“The way you’re walking right now is how I want you to walk the streets, and when you hit the runway, step it up a couple of notches.”

“I understand.”

Victoria worked hard, and she did well. Calvin kept working with her until he thought that she was ready to wear his clothes and appear in one of his fashion shows. She began doing more shows, and it started to conflict with her dancing at Club Envy. The fashion shows were usually on Friday and Saturday evenings. Therefore, Victoria arrived at the club late, and she got fined by dancer-turned-manager Vanessa Jennings.

“You need to decide about what’s important to you and where you make your money.”

“I don’t get paid for these modeling shows.”

“What?”

“I don’t make any money modeling.”

“Not making any money?” Vanessa frowned, shaking her head. “You need to get your priorities straight. Not making any money?” Vanessa pointed to the stage. “Go on and go to work. Not making any money,” she repeated, shaking her head as she walked away from Vixen.

It was a month later when Calvin came to her with an opportunity to do a photo shoot with some other models in Nassau, Bahamas. Viven was excited about the opportunity, but it was on the weekend, and she would have to miss work.

Again.

But that was when she remembered what Carmen Taylor had said about having to change her life, and she agreed to do it.

Nassau, Bahamas

It was a big day for Victoria. She was on her way to the airport to board a flight to The Bahamas. Victoria had never been out of the city before, much less out of the country. She didn’t have a passport, so Calvin had to apply for an expedited passport so she could make the trip. It was also her first time on an airplane, so she was nervous about flying.

When they arrived at Lynden Pindling International Airport, Calvin and the models were picked up and taken in a van to the Courtyard Nassau Downtown at Junkanoo Beach. They had checked in, and four models were assigned a room. Once they were settled into their rooms, Calvin took them to eat dinner at The Bistro in the hotel.

“Get some rest tonight,” Calvin rose to tell the models. “We have a seven o’clock call in the morning, and I don’t want to see any of you dragging. That means no Señor Frogs, No Poop. And no Deck East, ladies. Are we clear, ladies?”

“Yes,” the models said in unison.

However, despite that promise, thirty minutes later, Victoria and her roommates, Cynthia, Maya, and Candace, snuck out of their room and went to Aura, an adults-only nightclub in The Atlantis Casino. That night, Aura was featuring a DJ Competition with Nassau’s hottest DJs.

“I’ll see y’all later,” Maya said when they arrived.

“Where are you going?” Victoria asked.

“To the casino,” Maya replied as she walked away from her roommates.

“Go on with your bad self,” Candace said. “I don’t gamble.”

“I can’t afford to gamble,” Cynthia cosigned, and the models went into the club.

“Neither can I,” Vixen said.

For the next few hours, the three hit the dance floor. They danced with each other most of the time. Every now and then, a man would dance into their space, but after being ignored by the three beautiful women, they all eventually faded away.

As for Victoria, the professional dancer, she did a very conservative side-to-side two-step. Other than Calvin, none of the other models knew that she danced at Club Envy, and she planned to keep it that way. But when a song came on that she would dance to at the club, Victoria let her ass drop to the floor, and she came up shaking it.

“Look at you,” Candace said to bring her back to reality, and she tried to giggle it off.

“I don’t know what got into me,” she said and went back to the side-to-side two-step.

It was just after three in the morning when the three decided that it was time to go.

“We need to find Maya and get back to the hotel,” Cynthia stated as they left the club and went into the casino. For the next fifteen minutes, they wandered around the casino in search of Maya, but they didn’t see her anywhere.

“Maybe she already went back to the hotel,” Candace said and looked at Victoria, who was staring in the direction of the bar. “Do you see her?”

“No, but I do see somebody I know.” Victoria discreetly pointed in his direction.

His name was Mitchell Wright. He worked as security at Shooters, another of Carter Garrison’s strip clubs. Mitch was an extortionist, and he did a little loan sharking for The Family, but he was muscle.

The last thing I need is for him to say, “What’s up, Vixen?” Victoria thought as she started walking in the opposite direction. However, it did cause her to wonder what he was doing there.

“Girl, he is fine,” Cynthia commented. “What’s his name?”

“Mitch,” Victoria answered as two men approached him from either side.

“He doesn’t look like he’s happy to see them,” Candace said as the men grabbed Mitch by either arm and walked him out of the bar.

“No, he doesn’t,” Victoria said as they kept looking for Maya until they finally found her at the blackjack table. Once she cashed in, they went back to the hotel.

They were all dragging at seven that following morning when the van came to take them to do the photo shoot at Junkanoo Beach. The shoot was to be broken into three parts. The swimsuits would be shot first thing that morning, casual wear in the afternoon, and the evening section would feature evening wear and gowns by up-and-coming fashion designer Chriscinda Parece. It was her first international show.

It was after eleven that evening when the van dropped off the models at their hotel. And after the long day, they were tired and complaining about their aching feet.

“I heard that some of you went out last night,” Calvin began, speaking at the front of the van as they returned to the hotel. “Which explains why some of you were dragging first thing this morning,” he said, looking at Candace. “So, I urge you, ladies, get some rest. Rehearsal is on-site at eight o’clock sharp.”

But that didn’t stop them from sneaking out again. Their destination for the night was Cable Beach at the Rosewood Baha Mar Hotel. While Maya gambled in the casino, Victoria, Candace, and Cynthia went dancing at Bond at Baha Mar. It was after four in the morning when they returned to the hotel. The result was the same, and they were tired and dragging at rehearsal.

“I bet you all will get some rest now,” Calvin said on the way back to the hotel. Since they were tired and dragging, the models got some rest that afternoon and were ready that evening when it came time to do the show.

The standing-room-only event was held at Utopia Gardens, which had a view of Corry Sound. Unbeknownst to Victoria, Mitchell Wright attended the presentation. The show was going well until Mitch noticed the two men who had approached him at the bar in Aura the night before.

How did they find me? Mitch asked himself. Knowing that he didn’t have what they wanted, he began looking for a way out of there.

As the men got closer, Mitch rose to his feet. Maya had just come onto the runway wearing a floral, ruched, sleeveless midi-dress with Stuart Weitzman ankle-strap stiletto sandals. Mitch pulled out his gun, rushed up onto the runway, and grabbed Maya. She screamed as the two men pulled their weapons. Mitch fired a couple of shots at them and pushed Maya into the line of fire. When the men returned fire, Mitch ran. However, Maya took shots to her head and chest as she fell to the ground.

As chaos ensued at the fashion show, Mitch raced out of there, firing shots at the gunmen as he ran. Once the shooting stopped, the other models came out onto the runway as people rushed to Maya.

“What happened?” Victoria asked.

“Maya got shot.”

“Is she going to be all right?” Victoria inquired.

“I don’t know.”

The return flight to New York was quiet the following morning. The group of models and support staff were all in their heads about what happened to Maya at the show. Chaos ensued following the shooting. The police were called, and the investigation into the shooting began. Although none of the models saw anything, they were questioned at length about the incident. Needless to say, the show did not continue when the police left; therefore, many of the models were disappointed on the flight back because they didn’t get their moment under the lights on the runway.

It was no different for Victoria. However, in addition to sharing the feelings and disappointment that the other models were experiencing, she had the added burden of Mitch. When she peeked out to see how crowded the house was, Victoria saw Mitch in the audience.

What is he doing here?

Now, she was forced to wonder.

Is he involved in the shooting?

Did his presence on the island have anything to do with her or The Family?

Those were all great questions, but Victoria didn’t have an answer to them. By the time the flight landed in New York, she had convinced herself that whatever Mitch was doing in Nassau had nothing to do with her.

If it were, he would have reached out and said something to me, right? Victoria thought.

On the cab from the airport, Victoria thought about whether she should mention Mitch being there to anyone. She had to work that night at Club Envy, so by the time she was ready to leave, Victoria had decided that it was in her best interests to mention it.

When she arrived at Club Envy, she went to the office to tell Vanessa Jennings, the club’s. . .