Chapter 7 - The Visitor
Kiara would not immediately say the name.
That alone made Tasha furious.
“We are past protecting people.”
“I’m not protecting him.”
“Then speak.”
Kiara looked at Denise.
Her mother’s expression held no softness.
“It was Lionel.”
Tasha frowned.
“Lionel Grant?”
Marcus’s older cousin.
Lionel had attended cookouts at Tasha’s house. He had helped carry furniture inside after she bought it. He had driven with her to two prison visits when her car needed repairs.
“He knew?”
“Some of it.”
“How much?”
“He knew Marcus and I were writing.”
Denise rose again.
“That man sat at my Thanksgiving table.”
Kiara nodded miserably.
Tasha remembered Lionel joking that Marcus was lucky to have a woman like her.
Some men never learn what loyalty looks like, he had said.
She felt nauseated.
“Why was Lionel carrying letters?”
“Marcus didn’t want everything going through monitored mail.”
Vanessa asked, “Was Lionel also moving documents?”
Kiara’s hesitation answered.
“What documents?” Tasha asked.
“Business forms.”
“KJ Supplies?”
“Yes.”
“Second Line?”
“I don’t know.”
“Money?”
“Not cash.”
“What, then?”
“Prepaid cards sometimes.”
Tasha stared.
Marcus had repeatedly asked her to load money onto legal prison communication and commissary systems.
If he also had access to prepaid cards through Lionel and a contraband phone, his finances had been far less restricted than she believed.
“How was he paying Lionel?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you pay him?”
“Once.”
“How much?”
“Eight hundred.”
“For what?”
“He said Lionel had legal expenses from helping with filings.”
Vanessa wrote something down.
Tasha felt as though every answer contained another account.
Another person.
Another corridor.
“What did Marcus tell Lionel about me?”
Kiara shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Denise snapped, “You expect us to believe there were boundaries in this?”
“I’m telling you what I know.”
Tasha believed that part.
Kiara had begun speaking differently.
Less defensively.
More precisely.
Perhaps the shock had finally broken the habit of protecting Marcus.
Tasha looked through the letters until she found Lionel’s name.
There were references to “L.”
L will handle filing.
L says the account can wait.
Tell L not to use the old address.
Vanessa photographed each page.
Then Tasha’s phone rang.
Marcus.
She let it ring.
He called again.
Then again.
Finally a message arrived.
We need to talk before you start involving people who don’t understand what they’re looking at.
Tasha showed Vanessa.
“Do not argue by text,” Vanessa said.
“I wasn’t going to.”
Another message.
Lionel has nothing to do with us. Leave him out of it.
Tasha stared.
Marcus did not know Kiara had mentioned Lionel unless someone had told him.
She looked at Kiara.
“Did you message him?”
“No.”
Denise pulled out her own phone.
“I didn’t.”
Vanessa said, “Then Lionel may already know you found the letters.”
Tasha felt a new kind of fear.
Not physical fear.
Informational fear.
The sensation of being inside a room where everyone else had been passing notes behind her back.
“How?”
Kiara looked toward the box.
“I called Lionel earlier.”
Denise turned.
“When?”
“Before Aunt Tasha got here.”
“Why?”
“I asked if he knew about the deed.”
Tasha closed her eyes.
“And?”
“He said he didn’t.”
“What else did you tell him?”
“That everything came out.”
Denise cursed softly.
Kiara whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Tasha sat.
“From now on, you tell Marcus nothing about what we discover.”
Kiara nodded.
“You tell Lionel nothing.”
Another nod.
“You don’t delete anything.”
“I won’t.”
“You don’t move money.”
“I won’t.”
Vanessa added, “And do not close business accounts without advice. Preserve records.”
Kiara agreed.
Denise stared at her daughter.
“You’re going to do everything they tell you.”
Kiara’s eyes filled.
“I know.”
“No. You keep saying that like knowledge fixes anything.”
“Mama.”
“You let him turn your aunt into an obstacle.”
Kiara sobbed.
Tasha intervened.
“Enough.”
Denise looked at her.
“She betrayed you.”
“I am aware.”
“You keep defending her.”
“I’m keeping us focused.”
“Why?”
“Because rage is what Marcus understands.”
Denise went quiet.
Tasha realized she believed that.
Marcus knew how anger worked.
He knew how to provoke it, wait for mistakes, then point to the mistakes as proof that everyone else was irrational.
Tasha had seen him do it during disagreements with prosecutors, former partners, landlords.
For years she considered it survival instinct.
Now she recognized control.
“We do this with records,” Tasha said. “Not screaming.”
Vanessa nodded.
Kiara wiped her cheeks.
Tasha continued.
“If Marcus committed another financial crime, then emotional chaos helps him. We’re not giving him that.”
The word crime unsettled the room.
Denise whispered, “You really think that’s what this is?”
Tasha looked at the fake vendor structure.
“I don’t know.”
Vanessa corrected gently.
“You know enough to investigate.”
At five forty, Tasha drove home.
She expected Marcus’s car to be gone.
It was.
But another vehicle sat at the curb.
A gray Lexus.
Lionel.
He stood on her front porch.
Tasha remained in her car and called Vanessa.
“He’s here.”
“Do not let him inside if you don’t want him there.”
Lionel raised both hands when Tasha approached.
“I just want to talk.”
“From the sidewalk.”
“Tasha.”
“The sidewalk.”
He stepped down.
He looked older than she remembered.
“Tasha, Marcus is scared.”
“That makes two of us.”
“He thinks you’re going to misunderstand documents.”
“Everybody keeps saying that.”
“I never knew about him and Kiara being physical.”
“But you carried letters.”
His face tightened.
“I carried envelopes.”
“You knew who they were for.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know Marcus planned to leave me?”
“No.”
“Did you help form KJ Supplies?”
“Yes.”
There it was.
No hesitation.
“Why?”
“Marcus wanted a reentry business ready.”
“Why not tell me?”
“He said you worried too much about anything connected to money after the case.”
Tasha almost smiled.
He had used her caution as justification for secrecy.
“Did you form Second Line Development?”
Lionel looked away.
Tasha’s pulse accelerated.
“Lionel.”
“Yes.”
“Whose company is it?”
“Marcus’s.”
“Who owns it?”
“I don’t know now.”
“What does that mean?”
“I filed the original documents with Marcus as sole member.”
“Now?”
Lionel rubbed his face.
“Two months ago, he asked me to prepare an amendment.”
Tasha’s chest tightened.
“Adding who?”
Lionel looked toward the house.
Then back at Tasha.
“Kiara.”
Tasha’s expression must have changed, because Lionel quickly added:
“But that isn’t the part you need to worry about.”
“What part should I worry about?”
He swallowed.
“Second Line didn’t just receive money from the restoration company.”
Tasha waited.
Lionel said quietly, “It borrowed against something.”
Her house flashed through her mind.
“What?”
“Your life-insurance policy.”
Tasha stared at him.
“I don’t have a policy Marcus can borrow against.”
Lionel looked confused.
“He said you did.”
“I have term insurance through work.”
“No cash value.”
“Then what policy are you talking about?”
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Lionel went pale.
And Tasha understood from his face that the answer might be worse than the question.
